#I could write a thesis on how I see that playing out
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hellooooooo I would love to hear about your julian/jadzia sandbox! I haven't given them a lot of thought as a real pairing and I'm so curious about your ideas!
hello good morning thank you for being patient! welcome to my Julian/Jadzia sandbox
putting under a cut cause it got. long
with them im a very casual shipper of it, I dont really seek out content of them and I kinda just have my own thoughts on them as a pairing. I would read fic of them if it caught my attention, but as is im pretty content in my own little world of them. I think they could've been really cute! but also like, again, thank god they didnt go that route in canon, I would not have trusted the writers with them
if im thinking of Julian/Jadzia as a couple then im inclined towards the storyline of that being one where youre in for the long haul. its a slowburn, and most importantly, its of the friends to lovers variety. the way it plays out in my head is you spend a lot of time building up and really developing that friendship, and yes Julian is still crushing on her and pursuing her, but after a little while that fades out and becomes less of a crush and more of just a running bit between them as they get closer as friends. and then, after a while, you start bringing in the hints that this could be something different than friendship. little moments, little scenes, the realization that Julian's crush hasn't gone away and he is now quite hopelessly in love with her, and Jadzia, having to gotten to know him and get so close with him, is also quite in love with him
ive seen different takes that Julian and Jadzia have no chemistry and I think thats simply not true. there's a lot of chemistry between them, but its not the immediate sparks flying type of chemistry you get with, say, Julian and Garak in their first meeting. and I think because of that, people tend to write them off, when really all it would've taken was some development and exploration of their relationship. if there had been less of a focus on Julian chasing after Jadzia, and more of a focus on them getting closer, I think the romantic chemistry would've been off the charts
its Julian's chasing after Jadzia the way he does, especially in the early seasons, that gets in the way of what could've been. and dont get me wrong, I wouldnt take that element out entirely, but I wouldnt have had it go on as long as it did. Julian chasing after Jadzia the way he does makes it impossible for her to take him seriously as a potential romantic partner, so if you have them get over that hurdle and have Julian back off and allow them to develop a close friendship, it opens Jadzia up to the idea of him as a romantic partner. I also think it would make for a deeper and more real friendship, where Julian gets to know Jadzia as a person and not just as a concept, and where Jadzia gets to see Julian from a better perspective
I would also just. put in writing more how Jadzia actually feels about her relationship with Julian. what we get onscreen is pretty one-sided and focuses almost entirely on how Julian feels, with only occasional mentions of how Jadzia feels. some of the novels go into it a bit more, especially Revenant, but alas those are beta canon. Jadzia does like Julian, and she cares about him, but we very rarely get to know her thoughts on him outside of being both endeared and annoyed by his constant pursuit of her. she likes the chase and the attention, even if it sometimes annoys her, and I think it'd be interesting to explore how she feels when that chase is gone. I think it'd be fun to explore the day she realizes she misses it
with Julian, what really fascinates me about his feelings for Jadzia is that even from earlier on, he's clearly a lot more serious about her than I think anybody else realizes. Julian is vulnerable with Jadzia in a way that he isnt with anybody else. for a character who tends to be very private about his vulnerabilities, thats a pretty big deal. where Julian's other moments of openness and vulnerability come from a place of being forced to- see Doctor Bashir, I Presume? when he has that talk with Miles- his vulnerability with Jadzia is typically initiated by himself. he gives her his diaries from medical school, which. I have a lot of feelings about. because even if you remove the context that he probably talks about being augmented in those, since at the time of that episode airing the decision hadn't been made yet to have Julian be augmented, its still a very vulnerable thing to do, because as Jadzia says his diaries contain his fears, insecurities, hopes, dreams, etc. I also think often of when Julian loses that award, and admits to Jadzia that he isnt handling it well. he didnt have to admit to that, but he did. thats a a small moment, but it speaks volumes to his willingness to be open around her, and to me that indicates that even from early on he was very serious about his feelings for her
I think this should've been a big thing in their dynamic. Jadzia realizing that Julian is so open with her when he isnt with others, not even Miles. I think in turn she would've allowed herself some of that same vulnerability and openness. in fact, I think Julian's interest in Jadzia might've helped this. a big complaint I have with a lot of episodes about Jadzia is that they aren't about her, theyre about Dax, or Curzon. a lot of people are more interested in Dax than they are Jadzia, a lot of relationships she has are the relationships Curzon had. Julian, however, is all about Jadzia. he wants to get to know HER, not just the symbiont, not just the legacy of her past lives. I think, seeing that, Jadzia would've reciprocated the vulnerable side he shows her, and been more open with him than she is with others when it comes to herself
this is getting long and rambly but yeah to sum up. they could've had a very good slowburn friends to lovers arc. all they would've had to do was overcome their original perceptions of the other- Julian would need to look past his infatuation, and see Jadzia as a whole person and not just an idea, while Jadzia would need to look past Julian's naivety and see the complex individual- in order to develop a really deep and poignant friendship that could later become a romantic relationship. and the writers kind of do this, in having Julian back off for a bit and focus elsewhere and take the time to develop a pretty solid friendship with the two of them, but they ultimately end up leaning back into Julian's unrequited feelings for her, which could've been interesting imo, but they really only do it to go "she died before he could ever get with her :( so sad :(" which. ive done that rant already so I won't do it again
there is genuine potential within canon for them to have a solid romantic relationship. if they had focused more on Jadzia's feelings and thoughts, rather than on Julian's hopeless pursuit of her, I think they could've honestly pulled it off. there was some solid groundwork for them, but it ultimately doesnt take off. and im fine with that, truly fine with that, because I genuinely do not believe the writers would've done them justice. as is, I like to enjoy my own thoughts and scenarios, and it was fun to write a bunch out. this isnt particularly organized, but I hope you enjoy it, anyways
#star trek: ds9#julian bashir#jadzia dax#'im a casual shipper' I say as I write all this out#turns out I do think about them a lot#this is just generally the way I get about dynamics I find interesting#and the romantic potential of Julian/Jadzia is incredibly compelling to me#they could've had it all but alas 90s Trek was so incredibly hit or miss with deliberate romance it probably would've been a major miss#I prefer the canon route they went in terms of having it be Worf/Jadzia#I like Worf/Jadzia a lot#but in my head I can have Julian/Jadzia. as a treat#I also really really like Worf/Jadzia/Julian so theres that#I could write a thesis on how I see that playing out#but yeah back on topic their romantic potential does fascinate me#and a lot of it is because I find it incredibly compelling how vulnerable Julian is willing to be with Jadzia#I have a headcanon that he wanted to tell her earlier about being augmented#thats why he gave her his diaries#which she never read so she didnt end up finding out until he was outed#developed that hc while reading Revenant because theres this moment where he slips up and almost says something#and I think about it often#I think he wanted her to know#which. again. could write a thesis on#I do love their dynamic- the canon one and the one in my head where sometimes they kiss
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obviously i can't enforce proper rules of what people "count" and i wouldn't wanna really gatekeep, but :D in my opinion! loosely i believe that if it is recognizably the same story, if it could keep the same title without it being problematic for the reader, i believe it does count. like i personally would allow for most comic/manga adaptations of shakespeare plays, even if they're abridged, to be "reading the plays" (even if not as plays).
perhaps maybe also with an asterisk on the amount of early-modern text honored versus original content infused by the new creator. like, i might say a novelization or prose retelling of the plays is different from comics, which as a form, all you really need to adapt is the dialogue and add your own visuals (which actors, directors, and stage crew already have to do for every production, even the most "faithful" ones). tales from shakespeare by charles and mary lamb, for example, might be a gray area, because they present the stories faithfully but in an entirely different medium, with necessary original narrativizing around it. but while not everyone may agree, i would consider the manga shakespeare series (which abridge but maintain the original language, and take liberties with their visual setting, as many directors do) to be essentially the same as reading the text or watching a stage adaptation—which are already two very different experiences with a theatrical work, and i chose to conflate them in this poll in order for maximum inclusivity.
and then there's the confounding factor of translation. some people talk down about the sparknotes no fear shakespeare series and other prose/modern "translations"—i never particularly enjoyed them myself, even as a beginner, because i think more general-reader-friendly series like barnes & noble shakespeare and the folger shakespeare series were better at helping me (emphasis on just me) appreciate the poetry of the plays and approach the difficulties of the language. perhaps i could've been a little bit snobbish about it; the sparknotes series does not aim to bastardize the verse, and it's still there on the adjoining page. yet, not everyone reads the verse to compare. but, if they're still reading the same story, in the same structure, but the text itself is totally altered, is that not still reading shakespeare? it's a philosophical question, but for the wider purposes and ideals of this poll, i would have to say yes, i think it is.
and obviously, obviously, translation into languages other than english must count. that's just common sense. not everyone can or should read or see the plays in the "original" language—but one can say that about that about 'modern translations' too, right? and philosophically, most artists and language lovers agree that in translation, something is always sacrificed; more is also added; all depending on the will and sensibilities of the particular translator. there will never be such a thing as a definitive translation of poetry. translations are arguably, in their own right, as much original works as any other adaptation or abridgement; they are changes to the text. still i think they count for this poll, unquestionably.
another interesting thing people have brought up is adaptations in children's literature, which i see most people discrediting if it's their own experience with the plays, but it probably depends on the book, imo. like i said, retelling something in prose narrative makes it fundamentally different to me, but i think it's wiggly where the line is, since there are a lot of children's works based on the plays that aim to preserve shakespeare's language, and many that purposefully do not. like sparknotes' no fear series versus folger editions, i think both should exist because they suit different purposes.
on the topic, though, i do wanna shout out shakespeare's first folio: a children's edition (2024) released by the shakespeare birthplace trust. i got a copy for both of my nieces for christmas this year. they're still a bit too young to read it with (both are under 2), but i just had to get it. the goal of the book isn't just to preserve the language, but they're actually formatted as playscripts! i find that to be such an interesting choice, and i can't wait to act them out with them and their toys someday. they are, however, suuuper abridged, like 10-15% of the original text at most, and certainly a lot of the magic of the full pieces is lost by boiling it down to its bare essentials, but its simplicity, obviously, is meant to benefit the young readers as much as possible.
would it count? would it count? i don't know! i'm certainly gonna say hell yeah it counts, when im playing cymbeline and the two gentlemen of verona with my little girls. but will it still count retroactively, when i hopefully get to view the plays more fully with them someday? i'm sure the first time i take them to shakespeare in the park, they're gonna feel like what they watched is substantially different from what's in their book, and in comparison, they might not feel like they've still experienced them in that medium that was perfectly sufficient before.
abridgements can certainly count, though, if you had a fulfilling engagement with it! there is always more to get out of these texts, and they are also often reduced to serve a particular audience or medium. there will never be an end of the ways to read shakespeare, so consider for yourself whatever is meaningful to you.
I'm curious about people's levels of familiarity; I intend no judgment or elitism and it's absolutely fine not to be a completionist, btw. I didn't think I would've intended to have read them all at age 25; it just sort of happened that after I passed the halfway point in the middle of 2023, I came out of a reading slump and was motivated to finish. Fwiw I consider myself a hobbyist (I am not involved in academia or professional theater) but I realize that that label is usually attributed to people with less experience.
I also have always loved seeing other bloggers' Shakespeare polls where they put certain plays or characters up against each other, but I'm often left wondering if it's really a 'fair' fight all the time if you're putting up something like Hamlet or Twelfth Night against one of the more obscure works, like the Winter's Tale. It's not a grave affront to vote in those polls if you don't know every play, but I am curious about it.
Please reblog for exposure if you vote; I would appreciate it a lot. Also feel free to elaborate on your own Shakespeare journey in tags, comments, reblogs, because I love to hear about other people's personal relationships to literature.
#image description in alt text#tl;dr have fun :D u count to me#im sure you didnt expect such a thesis lol. but i do find these things very interesting#glad i also got to talk about different editions and adaptations in here. i am somewhat of a purist with myself#and i was that very purposefully in my own reading of the plays. in fact i never saw one before reading one#1) bc i was intimidated by the prospect of not fully understanding what i was watching and#2) to feel like i organically formed my own relationship w the plays. sometimes my original interpretations have turned out to be unpopular#like for instance i didnt interpret harry hotspur's marriage in h4 pt 1 to be very loving and i was kinda surprised to figure out most ppl#like just classically disagree w me there. wow! what i interpreted as bickering most ppl view as witty banter. i see it now though#cont#but obviously i am very interested in the idea of nothing ever being original. yet how conservative should we be with what's shakespeare?#like i also see a lot of ppl bringing up like the lion king or she's the man just to say they DONT count it and yeah. id say thats osmosis#fully original scripts and settings are adaptations of the ideas and characters but not the play proper. imo#but not everything is so clear and i find the ambiguity fascinating. maybe thats the point! theater is adaptable#i had fun writing this could you tell
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i want more nuance to be entered into the discussion of the green girl sorority and how differently cynthia plays elphaba in comparison to those who came before her because while a lot of people are rightfully like "why was elphaba not black from the beginning" and celebrating that she is now being played by a black woman, i think we need to be careful in just writing off all the elphabas of the past as Random White Girls when the role was championed (and often followed/succeeded) by a jewish woman
the pop culture archetype of the Wicked Witch has deep roots in antisemitism stretching faaaar far back. there is a level of reclamation happening in casting idina menzel, a jewish woman, to play the Misunderstood and Maligned young girl who is branded as exactly that. and stage!Elphaba is also written and acted with jewish stereotypes in mind--she is loud, aggressive, no-nonsense, blunt. she is quick to advocate for herself and shut down the discrimination she faces. all of this is very intentional! her personality is abrasive from years of abuse, and that makes propagandizing her easy. this is literally the thesis statement of the musical--it's not about aptitude, it's the way you're viewed.
cynthia's performance of elphaba is fucking INSPIRED despite going in a completely different direction. she's much more reserved, analytical, one of her key character traits is how well she can read people (see her calling out Galinda as insecure/putting on airs in their first scene together, clocking that Fiyero is using his party guy persona as a shield for his own depression) elphaba's attempts to blend in and make herself smaller all fail simply because of her existence, if not that then because she feels empathy so strongly she often struggles to hold back from acting, protecting.
personality wise, though, cynthia's elphaba is very quiet and closed-off, not at all the bullet-to-the-face that she is in the stage show, and... she still gets propagandized and maligned. though this seems to contradict the other interpretation, it tells of the other end of the spectrum of propaganda, one that black women watching (and many, MANY other marginalized folks) are sure to identify with--it does not matter how "nice," how reserved, how small a black woman makes herself. a racist society will still scrutinize her every action for a way to parse ill intent from it, brand her as an angry black woman who is dangerous and wicked, and write off any humanity she has in the process.
these two very different interpretations tell of the lie of assimilation. the fact of the matter is, when you are marginalized, there is no way to sand down your edges enough to make the people oppressing you "accept" you. that is why wicked is a tragedy at its core. whether loud and aggressive or quiet and unimposing, there is nothing elphaba could have done to make the people of Oz see her as anything other than a scapegoat to blame all their problems on.
so while i definitely appreciate that people are excited for black girl era elphaba, i would encourage us all to still show appreciation for what came before--that was not white girl era elphaba. that was jewish girl era elphaba. two houses, both alike in dignity, two stories both worth being told.
#wordy wendy#wicked#wicked movie#wicked 2024#wendy rambles#wendy meta#honestly i get chills whenever im watching the movie#and it gets to 'her green skin is a twisted manifestorial of her true nature#' what a wham line. literally makes me sick to hear.
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A PICTURE IS WORTH A THOUSAND WORDS ━━ LN4.
sometimes the right words are hard to come across, and sometimes everything you need to say can be captured in an image.
( lando norris x photographer!reader )
━━ part one.
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yourusername a smiley lando is the best lando in my books! to celebrate the end of the 2023 season, here's a handful of my favourite photos from throughout the year!
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mclaren What a happy lad! We can't wait to see that smile again in 2024 😁🧡
↳ yourusername you and me both! 🤝🧡
user she's got the dream job omg
↳ user IKR??? imagine just getting to follow lando around and take pictures of him all day, i'd be dead within the first hour
↳ user he'd smile at me and i'd be asking “what are we” on god 😩😩😩
↳ user is that literally all she does??? she just follows him around and takes pictures??
↳ user there’s probably a technical term for what her position is and i just don’t know it, but bc there’s so much going on around the track at any given moment, sometimes the press and other media workers are focused on something or someone else, so she’s hired on by mclaren to specifically focus on mclaren to make sure that there is content for mclaren or mclaren sponsors to use. she’s not just lando’s photographer, she also takes photos of oscar, the pit teams, and the other staff that work in the garage, but she was hired on when lando started so her portfolio is pretty full of him. hope this helps!
user didn't know i could need so much orange in my life but here we are
user LANDO NORRIS SUPREMACY
oscarpiastri i see who the favourite is 🫤
↳ yourusername you literally SAW me picking photos for your post too
↳ oscarpiastri yeah but you posted his first 🫤
user guys this is the face of the 2024 wdc winner take it in now
user i could write a 50 page thesis on the importance of these photos and what they mean to me and how the serotonin they make me release could replace my depression meds
user lad’s like a mini danny ric with how smiley he is
landonorris best photog right here folks
↳ yourusername you're only saying that bc i always get your good side
↳ landonorris i'll have you know that all sides are my good sides 🤨
↳ yourusername whatev helps you sleep at night luv 😊
In 2019, when you took on the job of being McLaren’s lead photographer, you hadn’t expected it would garner you the amount of attention it has, or that it would slingshot your career to levels of success you never could have anticipated, or that you would get a best friend out of it.
When you first met him back in those early days, you’d thought Lando Norris was an arrogant, pretentious, self-righteous prick who thought he was hot shit because he was a Formula One driver. However, he’d quickly proven you wrong when he’d admitted to you that a lot of the confidence was an act━ carefully constructed to hide his insecurities about his performance both on and off the track.
“I mean, we’re drivers, yeah?” He’d said. “But we’re also actors. We’ve got these personas that we have to uphold even out here on the paddock, and I’m always worried I’m not playing the part well enough.”
It hadn’t made a lot of sense to you then, you thought he was pulling off the persona of Total Douche remarkably well, but in Shanghai, things changed.
After the Chinese Grand Prix, things were dour. Lando had DNFed━ the first in his Formula One career━ which contrasted greatly with his previous accomplishment of P6 in Bahrain. Carlos Sainz hadn’t been doing very well, either, and it didn’t paint a very pretty picture for McLaren so early in the season. You’d thought he’d throw a hissy fit, tear Daniil Kvyat apart for his role in the crash, or at the very least throw some shade his way, but he hadn’t done any of that. He’d accepted his fate with grace, joked to the media about how boring the race had been because of what had happened, and then gone on to congratulate Carlos for at least finishing.
What was even more shocking, was that despite his disappointment and the frustration he must’ve been feeling, instead of going back to sulk in his lonesomeness or drown out his feelings with booze and loud music at some club, he’d comforted you later that evening.
The morning of the race, as you’d been getting ready in your hotel room, you’d gotten a text from an unsaved number admitting to you that they’d been taking part in a months-long affair with your boyfriend but had been previously unaware that he was already taken and therefore wanted to let you know to clear their conscience. You’d managed to hold yourself together then━ mostly because you’d already done your makeup and, quite frankly, didn’t have the time to sob it all off and then attempt to salvage it━ but as the day drew to a close and the adrenaline of the race and its excitement wore off, and with nothing else to keep you distracted, you were struggling to keep yourself composed.
Lando had somehow noticed in that weirdly perceptive way of his that something was off, and he’d sat with you, asked what was wrong, and listened when you━ through tears━ explained the situation to him.
“He sounds like a total fucking muppet,” he’d commented after you’d said your piece, and he’d done it with such a deadpanned expression that it had startled a genuine laugh out of you. Because yeah, you’re (now ex) boyfriend had been a muppet.
After that━ and after all the rom-com and ice cream binging you’d both done in his hotel room afterward much to the chagrin of Lando’s nutritionist and the displeasure of his PR officer━ you’d rescinded your initial judgment of him. He was significantly less dickish than you’d originally thought, and it let you finally understand what he’d meant when he’d talked about putting on a persona.
The cocky, know-it-all prick that Lando pretended to be half the time was all just an act to hide his overly self-critical nature fueled by his insecurities.
By the end of the season, he’d gained a little confidence of his own and had subsequently toned down the assholery when he no longer needed to “fake it til he makes it,” and you were calling him your friend.
It’s 2023 now, and he’s since been upgraded to best friend status━ a role he takes very seriously, and constantly reminds you of.
“I’m your best friend━” case and point, “━you have to come to Bali with me. Literally, like, what am I gonna do without you there? Do you expect me to just go by myself? What if I get lost? Or what if somehow the mafia, who have unknowingly had a hit out on me for years, track me down there and I’m kidnapped and ransomed off for billions of dollars? What will you do then?”
“You just want me to take pictures of you,” you answer, rolling your eyes only because you know he can’t see you through the phone.
He gasps in mock offense. “I cannot believe you think I value you so little! I want you to take pictures of me and be here to help me make fun of awkward tourist spray tans so I don’t feel like a total asshole for being the only one who laughs.”
You laugh at that. “Well, unfortunately laughing at bad fake tans doesn’t pay the bills.”
“But taking pictures of me does.”
“Yeah, when McLaren is paying.” You turn back to your laptop, a photo put on pause mid-edit splayed across the screen. It’s of Lando, as most of your photos tend to be despite your attempts at keeping things even between the McLaren boys. It’s the last of the images you need to send over for their 2023 sendoff, and when it’s finished you’ll officially be without work for a painstaking two months. “I’m on break too, technically, until they need promotional shit for the new season.”
He huffs, and you can almost imagine the childish pout on his face. “What are you even doing, then?”
You hesitate, not because you don’t want Lando to know about your winter plans, but because you don’t really know how he’ll react, which means it could be anything between genuine happiness for you and congratulations, or abject horror and feigned screams of anguish. He’s always been dramatic like that, but even more so now that he’s comfortable enough with you and himself to have crawled a decent way out of his shell.
Even still, he’s your best friend and it would make you a pretty shitty person if you didn’t tell him.
“Believe it or not,” you start, wringing your hands together, “but Manchester City actually hit me up with an inquiry. Asked if I’d be interested in working with them on a project documenting their training throughout the winter months. I said I would love to.”
He pauses for a good long moment, and you prepare for the screaming, but all he says is━ “Man City? You traitor. I thought Man United was our forever!”
“Be so fucking real right now, Lando Norris,” you answer, laughing as you do so. You’re relieved, at least he hasn’t gone the feigned anguish route, but you also can’t tell if he’s happy for you or hiding his true feelings behind humor like he’s prone to doing. “You know damn well you only watched them for Christiano Ronaldo and he hasn’t played with United since 2009.”
“Technically he played for them in the 2021-2022 season,” he grumbles.
“Yeah,” you deadpan, “and he was dogshit. We both agreed to pretend it never happened.”
He groans, “I can’t believe this. My day is ruined and my disappointment is immeasurable.”
“Oh, get over yourself. It’s only for the winter. I’ll be back in McLaren Papaya by February when they need me snapping shots of you and Oscar next to the new livery,” you promise.
The reality is that it’ll probably be sooner. McLaren has always been good about getting you back at HQ pretty quickly, either to get some snapshots of the beginning of Lando and Oscar’s pre-season return or to just capture some material of the engineers at work to promote their readiness. You understand why they can’t keep you around all year━ no Lando and no Oscar means no you━ and with the sheer amount of content you capture and edit for them throughout the season, they’ve got enough to last them the handful of weeks you aren’t working.
Unfortunately, you aren’t working with a driver’s salary to keep you sustained over the break and rent certainly hasn’t been getting cheaper. In past years, your bank account has been chirping with crickets when you’ve returned to work after the winter, and that was before your landlord had decided to make your life a living hell.
You have an important job, but it’s by far the most important, and sometimes sacrifices have to be made. Working in sports media taught you that early on.
“Who knows?” Lando’s voice snaps you back. “Maybe Jack Grealish with his perfect hair and perfect calves will steal you away and you’ll be in sky blue forevermore.”
You laugh, “Jack Grealish is a happily taken man, and although he does have perfect hair and perfect calves, I’m more of a Haaland girl anyway.”
He guffaws. “I can’t believe I’m hearing this. You’re so far gone that you already have a preferred player. Jack Grealish is England’s poster boy! Everyone loves him whether they like City or not!” He heaves a dramatic sigh. “Christ, I can already feel you slipping through my fingers. I give it a week over there at Etihad before you call me up telling me I can find a new best friend because you’ve replaced me with Phil Foden and Julian Alvarez.”
“For someone who supposedly hates Manchester City, you’re certainly well-versed in their roster.”
“Well duh, I need to know my competition,” he says, like it’s obvious.
“Ah, yes,” you snark back sarcastically. “Because you, a Formula One driver, have to be worried about the football players of Manchester City.”
“Apparently I do if you’re calling yourself a Haaland girl now!”
You burst into cackles and he’s following shortly after with chuckles of his own that eventually peter out into a comfortable silence. You are really going to miss him for the few months you aren’t working with him.
The Formula One schedule is so jam-packed across the season that it typically means you’re getting to see him every day for an hour or two at least, if not for the entirety of the time he’s at the track. You follow him and Oscar to their sponsor obligations, their interviews, and everything in between. It’s honestly rare if you’re not getting a moment to goof off and dick around with one another━ and it’s even rarer for you to not actually see one another face to face in passing at the very least.
The off-season is your least favorite time of the year for this very reason, and though it makes you feel a bit full of yourself to think so, you imagine Lando doesn’t enjoy this time of year much either for the same reason.
“I promise I won’t replace you with any of the City boys,” you say after the silence has stretched on a moment longer.
He huffs again, but you can envision the smile tugging at his lips. “I suppose even if you do, I’ll just show up to a match and steal you away again.”
“As if. Have you seen Grealish’s calves?”
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footballfansofficial BREAKING: Manchester City Forward Garrett Ward caught with mysterious woman revealed to be well-known Formula One photographer Y/N L/N! The two were seen sharing a romantic evening on Friday, the 5th of January, ringing in a passionate start to 2024. Garrett Ward has been with Manchester City since 2021 but was out on loan to a lesser-known Championship League team until 2023. He has just recently begun to play for his team again, but an injury early into the season has seen him benched for a majority of his time back. Y/N L/N is a photographer for Formula One racing team McLaren and has been working with them since 2019. Recently, she has been working with Manchester City to help promote a new docuseries following the men’s team’s winter training. Check the link in our bio for the full article!
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user OMG GARRETT WARD??? NOTORIOUS BACHELOR GARRETT WARD???
user who is she? like genuinely how is she relevant 🤔
↳ user no literally cuz like who even gives two shits about formula 1?
user girl works in f1 why can’t she stay there
↳ user i’m sure there are plenty of drivers who’d smash her idk why she needs to try and get footballers too like bffr 😒😒😒
user aint no way this bitch is kissing my man rn
user literally what does he even see in her??? she’s not even cute AND she’s wearing man united colors 💀💀
user Y/N L/N??? I THOUGHT SHE WAS WITH LANDO NORRIS???
↳ user LITERALLY ME TOO?? like she posts him all the time on insta so i just kinda thought they were an item or smth?? trouble in paradise maybe
user she’s fucking ugly wtf
user i wish these footballers who get with regular women would realize there are so many better girls out there that would ACTUALLY treat them well and would support them in their careers. like i bet this girl doesn’t even know anything about football. she works in f1 and that’s where she should stay bc nobody cares about that shit round here. she probably doesn’t even know the first thing about how football works, but i bet she’ll be at matches pretending like she knows what’s happening. garrett ward is gonna flush his career down the troilet for this chick bc she’s gonna convince him his busy schedule ain’t worth it and then city will be down a great forward for good, and it’ll all be her fault
user i mean she’s kinda pretty tbf
↳ user stfu she really isn’t
↳ user she gen looks like any random bitch off the street
user these comments are not it…. 😬
↳ user maybe you f1 fans just don’t know how to handle constructive criticism
↳ user is the constructive criticism in the room with us rn?? cuz all i’m seeing is bullying and hatred directed towards an innocent woman who’s only “crime” was going on a date
user ok so she can take photos?? 🙄🙄 maybe she should get a real job
↳ user she’s probably only with him so she can mooch off of him like a fucking gold digger
user AINT NO WAYYYYYY
user it’ll last a month max 😌 i’m calling it
user ayo lando come get your girl
━━ tags: @maih23 @urfavnoirette
━━ a/n: here we have it! took me a bit longer than the start of american smile did, but lando's story is officially here! (and it's a whopping 2.9k words to start us off). first and foremost, before we get started, garrett ward is 100% an oc and obviously does not play for manchester city, and this is bc i would feel absolutely horrible portraying a real person in the way that garrett will be later on. gather from that what you will haha! regardless, i hope you enjoy this first part and stick around for the rest!
#formula 1#formula one#f1#formula 1 imagine#f1 imagine#formula one imagine#f1 x reader#formula 1 x reader#formula one x reader#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#social media au#lando norris#lando norris x reader#lando norris imagine#ln4#oscar piastri
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Flashing Lights
Art Donaldson x reader
If people like this I’ll write a part 2 and possibly some sub Art fics in the future. Challengers is all I can think about at the moment and this blonde man is living rent free in my brain.
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‘Come on come on, they can never have too many pictures taken of them!’
Your friend dragged you and your mediocre camera, quite forcefully, to Tashi Duncan’s party. It wasn’t just that you hadn’t been invited and that you weren’t remotely a tennis player it was that Ashley’s lame excuse of ‘they need more photographers’ was patently untrue. Everywhere you looked there were photographers with cameras that cost more than your yearly rent.
‘I’ll get us a drink wait here.’
You watched her confidently insert herself into the queue for the bar, in between endless posters of Tashi Duncan hoodies and Tashi Duncan headbands. If you hadn’t been such a feminist you might have felt a little sick from all the masturbatory self promotion.
In your idleness you decided to people watch. There were no less than a hundred people there already, all dressed elegantly with hair and makeup that no doubt took longer to do than the night would even last. You pulled at your tight dress. Flattering? Definitely. Comfortable? Absolutely not. Ashley had the tennis body, the Tashi Duncan confidence and skill but without the praise or queue of fans. You had your camera.
You hadn’t touched a tennis racket since you were ten years old. These people weren’t your peers they were your betters, including the snobby photographers and perhaps even including Ashely. At least she knew what ‘down the line’ meant.
‘Can we go?’ Your voice sounded bitter as Ashley handed you a cocktail. ‘I’ve got two photoshoots to edit for tomorrow and I don’t even like tennis! Why am I even here?’ As your friend defended her plan to ‘sleep with as many rich tennis players as possible’ your eyes wandered once again, this time landing on a man who needed no introduction.
‘Is that … Art Donaldson?’
It was him, smoking a cigarette by Patrick Zweig dressed for Summer. Fire and ice in the flesh. You suddenly felt the need to readjust your dress, your hair, your earrings. To fidget. To fidget and prepare for the chance he might look in your direction and see what he wanted.
‘Fuck me it’s Zweig.’
As Ashley launched into a thesis on why Patrick was the hottest man she’d ever seen, your eyes bored into the side of Art’s head. His curls fell so perfectly on his forehead but all you could find yourself imagining was messing them up. As your staring breached the line of too far, Ashley tapped your arm. ‘Think I should go talk to him? Flirt a bit? He’s a bit of a man whore, I’m pretty sure I could get him.’ Just as you opened your mouth to speak, the recipient of your staring began to move closer.
It only took a few moments for Art to reach yours and Ashley’s corner of refuge but his eyes never strayed from you. Zweig had followed him like a puppy and whilst you couldn’t have cared less where the brunette chose to stand, you could practically feel Ashley screaming in her head.
‘Aaliyah right? You basically murdered my friend out there yesterday.’ As Ashley corrected Patrick’s memory, you forced your eyes to look at anything that wasn’t Art’s knowing smirk in your direction. It didn’t work, in fact your refusal to make eye contact with the future star had made your feelings glaringly obvious.
You’d watched him play many times, instead of doing your own work, and although you found tennis a little boring the man had you riveted. The ease at which he hit the ball with such force, the little hand movements he’d do during a tie break and his cruel habit of taking his shirt off on hot days … you were hooked.
As he eyed your dress you wondered if he’d seen you, made note of just how many matches you’d been front and centre at. Maybe he knew you were an amateur photographer and perhaps his smirk was intended as a mockery of your being there. Art knew you didn’t belong at thee Tashi Duncan’s after party. You both knew it. He looked at you, finally as you’d lifted your gaze, and cocked his head slightly to the side.
‘So, you don’t like tennis?’
Shit.
‘Oh. You heard that.’
‘Yep.’
His voice was glazed with amusement as he sipped his cold beer, daring you to defend yourself.
‘Ashley was invited,’ you lied with little ease. ‘I’m here as her friend- well I guess also photographer but you all seem to have that covered.’ Both yours and Art’s eyes glanced at the gang of professionals taking Tashi’s photo. She was holding the shimmering trophy as if it was nothing of real value, she had the humble but proud smile down. Art clocked your jealous expression and raised an eyebrow. ‘Tashi not your favourite?’
‘She’s pretty amazing and she looks fucking beautiful tonight I can’t lie. I just, I guess I wish I was that talented.’
Despite her successful flirting to Patrick, Ashley heard your little, sad admission. Mentally you scolded yourself for letting Art see your vulnerable side. Instead of judgement he smiled.
‘Are you not the best at getting front row seats?’
He left off ‘at my matches’ but the point had been made loud and clear. You chose not to react and to ignore him completely. ‘Ashley?’ But when you turned your head to your friend you saw her mouth was occupied. Oh.
Art laughed at his best friend. ‘Seriously? You couldn’t go one night?’ No, Patrick couldn’t and he couldn’t find it in his horny heart to feel guilty for stealing your one friend and escape route from you. The pair, still connected by their lips, hurried away from the party and to some poor fucker’s bedroom. You were alone with Art Donaldson and the party that engulfed the two of you had began to die down.
‘I should go too-‘
‘Wanna go down to the beach with me?’
You couldn’t help but scoff audibly at his request. ‘You don’t even know my name.’
Art’s eyes practically gleamed with cheekiness as he moved towards you. ‘Then tell me.’
‘It’s Y/N.’
With a charming smile he repeated his offer. ‘Y/N… wanna go down to the beach with me?’
If a mind reader had been in attendance you’d have been mortified as your first thought was: Oh god have I even shaved?
The decision to take your heels off had been an impulsive one and an instant regret as you felt the brittle sand rub against your toes. Avoiding the broken glass, you walked into Art’s shoulder and quickly apologised. ‘You’re like a baby deer.’
You perched on the rock overlooking the water that moonlight reached. Art’s eyes were transfixed on you as your hair blew from your shoulders. Surely he was just bored and flirting for fun. But you hadn’t seen him speak to anyone except Patrick before approaching you.
‘What is it about photography?’ Art gestured to the camera you almost forgot you were still wearing around your neck.
‘What is it about tennis?’
Art lit his second cigarette, took a drag and smirked.
‘I’ll let you answer that.’
Much to his elation, your dress had begun to ride up but you hadn’t noticed. You simply dug your toes in the sand and smiled coyly at the blonde. But how to best handle this?
‘Watching you play tennis isn’t like watching other people play tennis.’
Art grinned, only for a moment, but you caught the ego boost in real time. He moved backwards in his chair, outstretching his long legs and looking up at you with keen interest and quiet amusement. ‘Go on.’
Your mind flashed back to his most recent match. His opponent had purposefully coughed every time it was Art’s turn to serve and instead of letting it distract him or doing it back Art had fired the ball, with force, by his head. It had been a warning, not a greatly subtle one but certainly great to watch. The shock on the boys face as he narrowly missed receiving a black eye had made you laugh and you suddenly remembered Art had beamed at you when you had.
‘You’re just really good at it.’
‘Try again.’
He wasn’t making this easy for you but that didn’t mean you had to shower him in compliments, not when he hadn’t so much as asked you your name until prompted. You watched him, completely settled and comfortable in Tashi Duncan’s deck hair and wondered if someone this confident and talented (and knew as much) could possibly be single… unless?
‘Are you and Patrick just friends?’
He twitched ever so slightly at your question before covering his shock with a chuckle.
‘Umm.. yes. Sorry to disappoint.’
You smiled, suddenly feeling more confident now that you’d put him on the spot for the first time that night.
‘Not disappointed.’
Seeing you at ease, seemingly with any answer he had to offer, Art relaxed into his chair again. A moment of silence passed as the two of you listened to the very end of the party above and the seas tumbling waves. The water was just beginning to reach the rock you’d been safely perching on. A sign to leave.
‘I think I should go back to my ho-AAA!’
You’d barely taken two steps before buried broken glass assaulted your feet.
‘Jesus fuck!’
‘Y/N!’
The pain shot through you from toe to head, it settled in between your eyebrows as you frowned, trying not to scream. Art’s face was a picture of panic. He couldn’t help but notice how much pain you were in from putting weight on your foot, which had just begun to bleed as a thought entered his head.
‘I’ll carry you.’
‘I think I can walk.’
You took a hesitant step further but your foot ,in an act of betrayal, buckled under the pain. Giving Art a look of defeat you sighed. ‘Yeah, I think you’re gonna have to.’
You thought it would feel strange, the man whom you’d been watching almost obsessively for months play a sport you despised carrying you to safety. It didn’t. It felt right. His strong arms flexed under your weight as he took confident but cautious steps to Tashi’s party. There wasn’t much left of it. In fact the only people still there were two photographers packing up their lighting equipment and they didn’t give you so much as a second glance.
‘Any chance you secretly are friends with Tashi?’ Art asked, his voice hopeful, hoping he could drop you off to safety. He pursed his lips when you shook your head. Another moment of silence passed through the two of you but this one was different. You craned your neck out to gage the distance before suggesting:
‘My hotel really isn’t far. A mile at most.’
Art smirked for a moment, forgetting what the actual circumstances were. Your foot had stopped bleeding but you didn’t feel like walking. In fact you were rather enjoying Art Donaldson: the knight in shining armour. It was a good look on him.
‘Uber?’
‘Think of it as a workout.’
It wasn’t the recreational workout Art had been hoping for that night but he did it. He carried you and your shoes to your hotel room. The receptionist barely reacted to your new person but of course what did she care? She was probably only concerned with what mess you’d leave the cleaners.
‘67, this is it.’
Art put you down, keeping his arm around your waist for support. He was a little flushed from the exertion and you were flushed from the pain, or perhaps just his wandering hand.
‘Do you want me to st-‘
‘I want you to stay.’ You interrupted him hurriedly, desperate for him to stay. In that moment you didn’t mind if he stayed to read the complimentary bible next to you or if he wanted to fuck you mercilessly in front of the bathroom mirror. You just wanted him close.
At your eagerness, Art smiled following you in. Your hotel room was not too messy for visitors but it certainly hadn’t been expecting any. For a moment you wondered how Ashley was getting on in her room down the hall and if she too had embarrassed herself in front of her favourite tennis player. Somewhat likely.
‘I think seeing as you’ve carried me bleeding you can see me in pyjamas. Give me one se-‘
You gestured to the bathroom and your dress, looking forward to getting out of it but Art shook his head. You froze. His face was one of sheer determination and unwavering confidence, not unlike the look he gave cocky opponents who needed humbling. He closed the gap between you until his chest was inches from yours but blocked by your camera. You took it off, not breaking eye contact, and placed it slowly on the desk behind you.
Just as you thought the only way to break the silence would be with a kiss, Art broke eye contact. ‘Do you have any antiseptic wipes? Anything to clean it?’ You felt your stomach unclench. ‘Yeah.’ Limping slightly, you fetched a packet from the bathroom sink and placed them in Art’s open palm. He gestured to the bed.
‘Sit.’
His order was polite but you felt compelled. Sitting on your own bed as if it was alien, you looked up at him waiting for the next.
‘Foot.’
Art got down on his knees. Your stomach flipped. With careful hands, he held your injured foot and inspected it. You’d never felt so exposed before, the way his eyes engaged with your wound as if it were more fascinating than any match he’d won. There was an unspoken rule for neither of you to speak as he cleaned you. It stung like a bitch but you only let out minor hisses in pain, barely audible to Art but not unnoticeable.
As he took out a plaster, seemingly from thin air, and applied it to your foot he said: ‘Before tonight,’ Ouch. You winced from the pressure he applied. ‘I’d seen you watching me.’ He didn’t look at you, only concentrating on his handiwork and causing you as little pain as possible.
‘Yeah I gathered from all the teasing.’
His voice grew suddenly lower. ‘I’m not talking about tennis matches.’
You were suddenly reminded of a not so distant memory. Ashley had stood you up for lunch, she’d found a better hot date, and you had been in the cafeteria alone. Art had been queuing in front of you, waiting for Patrick and you’d been in awe. What you hadn’t noticed was that he’d sensed your eyes burning holes into the back of his head long before he turned around. He had given you a passing look of recognition and slight amusement before finding his seat next to Patrick.
You imagined alongside that memory were hundreds others. Hundreds of days you’d stared at Art, watched how he span his apples before eating them and the line of his jaw when he drank water in oppressive heat. All the time he had known, you just hadn’t been as subtle as you thought.
‘Oh.’
Art gave you your foot back and sat on the bed beside you. For a moment you couldn’t bare to look at him, incase he disappeared and decided it was funnier to leave you hanging. Your foot was the least of your worries. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d really kissed someone, with feverish need, but you wanted to.
Noticing your inward battle, Art raised his hands almost in defeat. ‘I can leave.’ He meant it, there was no judgement. You turned to him, your eyes meeting his clouded with lust, and recognised that this was a man who needed to be wanted. He wanted to give and receive pleasure, not out of boredom but out of a clawing need for it. If you wanted him to leave then he’d leave but if you wanted him to stay then he’d make the most of it.
Your hand settled atop of his.
‘Don’t.’
Part 2
Masterlist
Resources 🇸🇩🇨🇩🇵🇸
#challengers#challengers fic#mike faist#art donaldson#art Donaldson x reader#art donaldson fan fic#art donaldson fanfic#challengers x reader#challengers art Donaldson#challengers 2024#x reader
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mutual 1: see the thing about obi wan is that even if he could get pregnant he would do a force-abortion on himself because he believes that strongly in adoption
mutual 2: do you think matt damon was seething and coping when j-lo dropped "dear ben" or do you think matt and ben were still hooking up at this time? essentially if the album dropped in 2002, the bennifer engagement is nov 2002-january 2004, and matt gets married in 2005,
mutual 3: my ebay bidding war for paul reubens's spit in a jar is going really well due to the psychic attacks i've been sending to the other bidder
mutual 4: local authorities wont let me into this abandoned hoarder house in rural wyoming. dies horribly. #i love drunk driving
mutual 5: listen ive studied rpf for years you dont understand. the homoerotic undercurrent of britpop is a different breed than what george and bob had going on. theres a playful aura facilitated by the early 90s
mutual 6: i am going to pound philip seymour hoffman into the ground so lovingly
mutual 7: im doing crazy things to davy jones pussy over here
mutual 8: thinking of writing my thesis on the evolution of rpf #no don't look at my lb diary yes i watched 10 martin & lewis movies this week
mutual 9: you see robbie and bob were having on and off trysts ever since robbie stopped him from killing himself in 1966 but it took martin scorseses tender devotion to show robbie how unhealthy that was
mutual 10: thankfully neil young started estrogen in early 1970. otherwise she never couldve made harvest
mutual 11: how minutes of semi-truck sound effects do you guys think i can play on my radio show before people start tuning away
mutual 12: put this post underwater sorry. but i just feel so angry when people post about their mutuals like they're people they never talk to. i've moved to different countries three times for my mutuals.
mutual 13: [picture of orson welles and anthony perkins laughing on the set of the trial] do you think they ever fucked #hot! #who said that
mutual 14: i think i could fix norman bates if we got married and adopted the eraserhead baby together.
mutual 15: [picture of a computer fucking itself]
mutual 16: m sooooo girl drink drunk daveeeeee
mutual 17: eroticism of the machine? uhhh yeah only if the machine is a sexy car #STOP PUTTING THOSE COMPUTER PICTURES ON MY DASH
mutual 18: my warriors in maine are one step closer to slipping cocaine back into stephen kings food so he can be a good writer again
mutual 19: you don't understand. walton goggins isn't just gay in the show. he also walks gay in real life. you have to understand this.
mutual 20: im going to kidnap mike stoklasa and only release him when he makes a post coming out as bisexual
EDIT: ETHAN LET ME POST THIS: mutual 21: do you think lana del rey and joan baez are hooking up. why is lana with her everywhere and introducing her documentary and doing all these things. we KNOW joan is bisexual. do you think
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There is an endless amount I love the last chapter of Mockingjay and the Epilouge. Genuinely sometimes I feel like I could write a whole novel sized thesis about it and still not quite be satisfied I got to talk about everything.
But I think on this list of my favorite details (which is a mile long) is that Katniss describes her daughter as dancing and playing. And her son as haveing 'chubby toddler legs' that he uses to follow after his older sis.
There could be no clearer way to show to me how happy and loved these children are. How loved and wanted and surrounded by safety and peace. Unloved children don't dance and play like this, children didn't have chubby toddler legs when Katniss grew up. To see these little details paints such a picture of how these children live, and prove their whole point of existence in the narrative from a writing perspective. It shows what the scars were for, what the pain that still lingers paid for. It assures us, even if it's vague, Katniss got to get out of this confusion.
She ended up being able to find and create what she wanted in the freedom she and others paid so high a price for. And while the loss it took will never go away and will always sting, that she got what she had coming to her, the peace and freedom she so craved and spends the rest of her life enjoying along with healing from the cost.
#I think when people realize there is a canonical REASON for Katniss's confusion the ending becomes 100 times sweeter.#Like yes teenagers are confused normally at the best of times but Katniss was confused because the lack of freedom Panem afforded her.#That is a theme throughout the WHOLE series. Katniss can never really put a firm finger on what she doesn't because she isn't give the#stability to explore anything or the time.#So the way she gets that time and stability post MJ? I love it so much#Katniss Everdeen#Toastbabies#The Hunger Games
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i just wanna say thank you for filling the eminath tag. you're a blessing 😭😭😭
do you have any eminath or ml fic recs?
!!!!!!! thank you, that means so much 🩵 glad you and others have enjoyed!! it’s been really nice to see more traction in the tag.
always open to hearing more from people about eminath, or the women separately, too. 🫶💞 love talking about them 🥰
as for fic recs, let’s start with the Emilie ones…
thirteen by okayanna (anna-scribbles)
truly the quintessential thesis on the relationship between Emilie and Adrien and the ramifications of his childhood, as well as a truly thought provoking fleshing out of the ghost of a presence we know.
would that I could, I’d bookbind this fic, annotate it, and have it on my shelf. literally when am I not talking about thirteen.
Orbital Departure, Lose it in the Morning, Watership Down, all by bittersweetResilience
Three fics that play with unique concepts such as Adrien having twin telepathy and a soul bond with Félix, a trait shared once with Amélie and Emilie, and the family dynamics between these pairs of twins.
Could never say enough about the attention and detail Sunny brought to these characters at the time. I think about Orbital Departure all the time.
(just check out Sunny’s Emilie tag, is what I’m saying.)
What Real Human Beings Do by nemali
Amélie is the main character here, but boy 👏 do 👏 we 👏 see 👏 the beautiful scars Emilie has left on her sister. and how better to understand a character than their twin?
and for the eminath section…
in the mouth of the sun by telmes (archekoeln)
I remember reading this and being in awe. it was like reaching into the past (2020!) and finding someone who saw the same beauty in the ship and feeling so understood. love love LOVE their writing style (just READ that summary!! UGH!!!), and I need to do a dive into their other nathalie-centric fics.
On the same note, I just found their fic “you push me down” in my bookmarks too and literally teared up remembering it.
she doesn't need me, not like I need her by azalera
i love a good, sentimental story. it may seem simple, but there’s something about it that I just think about often.
I’ve been meaning to read their fic, “hello, emilie” as well!
bread and oranges by peachcitt
need to do a proper reread of this because I feel like I read it in a trance. 🫶 getting emotional all over again. AUGH
As for me—I have a Nathalie character analysis fic that I’m proud of, and quite like the eminath poetry I did. Maybe you’ll like “for the hope of it all”, too 🥰
#eminath#miraculous ladybug#ml fics#Asukies answered#Emilie agreste#nathalie sancoeur#amelie graham de vanily#ml#fics
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Ignore how late I am but I saw the post and I feel the the need to complain about this. A squick I have when it comes to fics and headcanons is when Belphie is completely villainized while the rest of the brothers hate him with their whole being while also depicted as perfect. And while that's annoying on its own, whenever this happens everyone else in the work also gets fucked over.
I specifically mean works where Belphie gets reduced to "the cold and callous villain who killed MC" and that's it. No acknowledging any circumstance around or about why he did it and making being manipulative his entire personality trait. And the rest of the brothers hate him for killing and manipulating MC, which I would understand more if this didn't so frequently come with them acting like they've never even hurt MC before.
The brothers love and protect MC by lesson 16, yeah, but they also almost put MC six feet under on multiple occasions themselves and only just got used to seeing humans as equals. They would be upset with Belphie for killing MC, but they wouldn't hate or never forgive him because they've been brothers long before MC got there and it would be hypocritical.
And this causes the rest of the brothers to act extremely out of character as well. Especially when it comes to why the brothers can't forgive him. Sometimes the brothers will hate Belphie for "killing Lilth" or hurting her descendant which is??? Or they'll treat MC like they're a replacement for Belphie, which is also???? And in these situations, MC acts like they're the antagonist of a replacement AU.
For some reason in works where Belphie's personality or lore gets tossed out of the window, so does everyone else's and both of these are so nerve grating to me. Okay, done complaining.
I have so many thoughts and opinions on Belphie and the fandom’s treatment of him, that I could deadass write a peer reviewed thesis on him…
TLDR: The mischaracterization of Belphie in the fandom is so rampant that I’m convinced some people writing him or complaining about him haven’t played the game.
Just to get this out of the way, Belphie’s character redemption arc suffered due to the 20 lesson limit in season one. His grand evil plan got put into motion in lesson 16, and we had to spend the entirety of lesson 17 (and into lesson 18) turning him into a viable Husbando (tm), therefore, his redemption and development was incredibly rushed.
Onto the good stuff 😈
My take on Obey Me and the brothers as a whole is that while yes, the writers have been woobifying them a whole lot, a LOT of their “toned down” behaviours can literally just be explained by them not having a *reason* to be assholes anymore because MC has done so much work to help them repair their relationships with each other.
I was raised Catholic (decently progressive Catholic, still got the fun guilt though lmao) and the way I was taught to view sin, was that it was an act of violence against someone else, and/or yourself, because there is some kind of deficiency or problem in your own life. It’s that whole “hurt people hurt people” thing, and you can literally SEE it with the brothers.
Lucifer isolates himself and puts on the persona of the tough, scary, intimidating eldest brother when in reality, he’s scared, and guilty, and fucking embarrassed about what happened with Lilith. You can see this when Luke took the Grimoire, Lucifer wasn’t acting out of rage, he was acting out of fear and disguising it, and then lashed out at Luke and MC and only stopped when Diavolo told him to because Dia is literally his boss.
Now what does this have to do with Belphie? Belphie is downright homicidal when the game starts in season one (which is why Luci locked him in the attic, to protect him AND the exchange program), now the question is “why?”
To put what Belphie has been going through in perspective: this guy has been drowning in guilt, trauma, grief, and self loathing for thousands of years. He feels guilty that Beel saved him instead of Lilith, and most importantly, he feels guilty that he led Lilith to the human world to begin with. He’s lashing out because he’s been grieving for thousands of years with no one to turn to about it BECAUSE THE OTHER BROTHERS ARE ALSO STILL GRIEVING
Now of course, this doesn’t excuse what Belphie did to MC, but it does EXPLAIN it. He’s so angry at humanity and himself that he’s the emotional equivalent of a suicide bomber. He’s self destructing and trying to take the people he’s blaming with him and praying that makes the guilt go away.
Finally, when Diavolo and Barbatos reveal Lucifer’s secret about what really happened to Lilith (how she was reincarnated and got to live a happy life as a human), this is the kick that gets ALL the brothers to finally be able to move on. We spent the entirety of season one making pacts and going on silly little adventures with everyone, all the while being the support system they needed to finally move on from their grief.
So THAT is why it makes me so angry when people act like Belphie is uniquely The Worst.
This is coming from someone who doesn’t mind writing the brothers at what I believe to be “their worst” in terms of shitty behaviour (if you want an example, look at how Asmo is currently behaving in A Lovecraftian Exchange Student). But I think characterizing Belphie as some pure evil villain is a massive disservice to him as a character. (Ignoring his survivor’s guilt and grief etc etc)
Also, to act like the other six brothers would immediately hate and despise Belphie over this is so wrong, I’m sorry but it’s grossly wrong. Belphie is their sweet baby brother, yes they love MC, but guys, especially at that point in season one, yes they liked MC, but BELPHIE 👏 IS 👏 THEIR 👏 BABY 👏 BROTHER. I think they’d be disappointed and maybe angry at him, but they’re not going to just up and abandon him, no chance about it.
I’d say the brothers didn’t truly begin to love-love MC until the end of lesson 18-20 after they’ve done some growing as people, but that’s just my interpretation.
Finally.
Y’all.
Did you forget that Belphie literally offered a pact to MC, SPECIFIED THAT IT WASNT BECAUSE OF THEIR CONNECTION TO LILITH BTW, and did this entirely of his own free will because he liked them???
Guys, a pact is offering control of the demon’s entire being! Belphie had grown enough in trusting a human to the point where he was willing to put his life in their hands!
This was so ramble-y and confusing, I’m so sorry- I just have so many thoughts about the brothers and Belphie in particular 😭😭😭
#asks#obey me#obey me!#obey me! shall we date?#obey me shall we date#ask#anon#obey me mc#obey me lucifer#obey me belphegor
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Why You Should Rewatch Season 1 of Arcane
For those who are just jumping onto watching Arcane now that Season 2 is coming out, let me just quickly say what transformed me from a fan to a frothing-at-the-mouth insane evangelist for how this show might be an era defining work of genius.
The writing is good, yes, but did you know that structurally, Season 1 might be the most tightly written show ever created? (And no, I don't mean that as hyperbole, because the animation, the music used, and the story as written is all done in-house by Riot, Arcane might truly be the most tightly created, centrally controlled story ever made for film).
If you go back and re-watch Season 1 knowing how it ends, with Jinx's rocket shattering the sky on its arc towards the Council Chamber, you can then actually go back to the very first scene of the show and see how every beat of the story up to that point led to that moment.
The core thesis of Arcane S1 is the question: how did we get to this moment where the potential peace of this divided city was shattered by the violent attack of one traumatized child of Zaun?
Every scene, literally every single scene, every single frame, every single word said or not said, every gesture, every pause of Arcane Season 1 is how we got to that moment.
Every chance encounter that happens or doesn't happen. Every time someone was in one place instead of another. Every time someone helped or didn't help a loved one when they needed it. Every time someone spoke up or didn't speak up when they needed to.
Every. Single. Beat. Every single breath of Arcane S1 is about that last scene and how it came to be and how no one stopped it before it happened. You can pause any frame, dissect any scene, and point to exactly how that last scene could have been averted if this moment had gone differently.
It is truly mind boggling how tightly connected even the smallest fragment of this story is. The care and attention put into it is so next level it doesn't even seem like it's in a different league (heh) from most other films, it's playing a different sport.
And I recommend everyone who has only seen Season 1 once go back and watch it again with this question in mind.
#arcane#arcane meta#this is a longer post than I meant it to be I didn't have time to be brief#but I'm just so passionate about the writing of this show I couldn't help it#EVERY SINGLE SCENE IS ABOUT THE LAST SCENE EVERY SINGLE ONE
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By Leslie Patrick
1 August 2023
Anne Boleyn (c. 1501 or 1507 – 19 May 1536), King Henry VIII's second queen, is often portrayed as a seductress and ultimately the woman responsible for changing the face of religion in England.
In reality, she was a fiercely intelligent and pious woman dedicated to education and religious reform.
But after her arrest and execution on false charges of adultery and incest in May 1536, Henry VIII was determined to forget her memory.
Her royal emblems were removed from palace walls, her sparkling jewels tucked away in dark coffers, and her precious books disappeared from the pages of time.
One of Boleyn’s books that has reappeared is the Book of Hours, a stunning prayer book, printed around 1527 with devotional texts designed to be read throughout the day, features hand-painted woodcuts — as well as a rare example of the queen’s own writing.
In the margins of one of the beautifully decorated pages, she penned a rhyming couplet followed by her signature:
“Remember me when you do pray, that hope doth lead from day to day, Anne Boleyn.”
The book vanished with Boleyn’s execution in 1536, then resurfaced around 1903 when it was acquired by the American millionaire William Waldorf Astor (31 March 1848 – 18 October 1919) after he purchased Hever Castle, Anne Boleyn’s childhood home in the English countryside.
The hiding place of the disgraced queen’s devotional tome had been a mystery for centuries, until recent research by a university student uncovered hidden signatures that helped trace its path through history.
The discovery
The book’s whereabouts in the 367 years between Boleyn’s death and its reemergence remained puzzling until 2020 when Kate McCaffrey, then a graduate student at the University of Kent working on her master’s thesis about Anne Boleyn’s Book of Hours, found something unexpected in the margins of the book.
“I noticed what appeared to be smudges to the naked eye,” recalls McCaffrey, assistant curator at Hever Castle since 2021.
Intrigued, she borrowed an industrial-strength ultraviolet light and set it up in the darkest room of Hever Castle.
Ultraviolet light is often used to examine historical documents because ink absorbs the ultraviolet wavelength, causing it to appear darker against the page when exposed.
“The words just came through. It was incredible to see them underneath the light, they were completely illuminated,” the curator recalls.
McCaffrey’s theory is that the words were erased during the late Victorian era when it was popular to cleanse marginalia from books or manuscripts.
But thanks to her extraordinary detective work, these erased words turned out to be the key that unlocked the tale of the book’s secret journey from certain destruction at the royal court to safety in the hands of a dedicated group of Boleyn’s supporters.
The guardians
Indeed, various pages throughout the text reveal the names and notations of a string of Kentish women — Elizabeth Hill, Elizabeth Shirley, Mary Cheke, Philippa Gage, and Mary West — who banded together to safeguard Anne's precious book and keep her memory alive.
While it’s unclear how the book was initially passed to these women, Anne Boleyn expert Natalie Grueninger suggests it was gifted by Anne to a woman named Elizabeth Hill.
Elizabeth grew up near Hever Castle, and her husband, Richard Hill, was sergeant of the King’s Cellar at Henry VIII’s court.
There are records of the Hill’s playing cards with the king, and there may have been a friendship between Elizabeth and the queen that prompted Boleyn to pass her prayer book on before her execution.
“This extended Kentish family kept the book safe following Anne’s demise, which was an incredibly brave and bold act considering it could have been considered treasonous,” says Grueninger, podcaster and author of the book The Final Year of Anne Boleyn.
Anne’s Book of Hours was passed between mothers, daughters, sisters, and nieces until the late sixteenth century, when the last name makes its appearance in its margins.
“This story is an example of the women in the family prioritizing loyalty, friendship, fidelity, and a personal connection to Anne,” says McCaffrey.
“The fact that the women have kept it safe is a really beautiful story of solidarity, community, and bravery.”
The book, currently on display at Hever Castle, is a touchstone of the enigma that was Anne Boleyn.
Castle historian and assistant curator Owen Emmerson points out that the book contains Anne’s DNA on the pages from where she touched and kissed it during her daily devotions.
“This was a really beloved possession of hers,” says Emmerson.
“Because of what happened to Anne Boleyn, we don’t have a vast amount of information in Anne’s own words. But the physical remnants of her use of the book, and the construction of that beautiful little couplet, have her identity in them.”
While Anne’s Book of Hours has finally found its way home, the research into this intriguing historical mystery is not yet over.
McCaffrey continues to chart the book’s provenance through the centuries to find out where it was hiding all this time.
The discovery of the inscriptions illuminates the book’s furtive journey, providing us with a glimpse into the controversy, loyalty, and fascination that Anne Boleyn has engendered for the past 500 years.
#Anne Boleyn#King Henry VIII#Book of Hours#William Waldorf Astor#Hever Castle#Kate McCaffrey#University of Kent#ultraviolet light#Natalie Grueninger#Owen Emmerson#Elizabeth Hill#Elizabeth Shirley#Mary Cheke#Philippa Gage#Mary West#The Tudors#House of Tudor#British Royal Family
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Petty, I respect you.
I do.
However.
DONT BE QUITE ABOUT THE COLOURS IN ON1Y 1 BECAUSE I WILL READ A FULL THESIS ON IT, 20 PAGES!!!! 50 PAGES!!!!
PLEASEEEE Give
It
To
Meeeeeeeee 🥹
Anon,
You've opened a floodgate.
Because I always notice the colors, but just because I see colors doesn't mean I know why they are significant. Even if I see there is a pattern, it doesn't mean I understand its importance. And I don't think y'all should be subject to me screaming about Jiang Tian's paper bookmarks being yellow and pink in a book of (love?) poems where he has highlighted that "a girl's shyness is like a tender cherry under the sunlight" and "16- and 17-year-olds are like fruits in the morning sun, sparkling."
Sheng Wang asks who this is about, but we know who this is about. The colors mean things.
And more importantly, I actually didn't write weekly or episodic posts about shows until 2022. I used to wait until a show was over to write about the colors or background noise, and, mostly, I only did it when people would ask me about it. Big Dragon was the first show that I felt compelled to write weekly about the colors and background noise because it was so amazing, so 2024 is still an odd space for me to be in sometimes because as much as I love colors, I'm ALWAYS surprised how much y'all want to know about them . . . weekly . . . per episode . . . for all the shows.
I write for myself, but sometimes I think y'all don't need to witness me losing my shit every week for sixteen weeks over obviously color-coded characters in The Loyal Pin.
And sometimes I think y'all don't want to witness me losing my shit over colors that I can't completely understand like the grays in 4 Minutes.
And then other times I think y'all shouldn't have to witness me losing my shit over colors that I'm not sure are colors until I've watched enough episodes to feel sure that the colors are, in fact, coloring; then, the series, The Trainee, actually tells me the colors were coloring the entire time like I thought.
And that's why I try to be quiet about shows because I'm figuring them out in my head, or I'm waiting for enough information to feel confident about them, and I don't want to hog up the tag with my ramblings. I need to sit in it a bit to figure out what the colors mean.
Kiseki: Dear to Me was the perfect example. I didn't mention anything about colors until prompted by others because it took me until the third episode to feel certain that Chen Yi and Ai Di matched colors, then it took me close to the end of the series to realize all the cameo couples ALSO matched colors.
It took me until the end of My Love Mix-Up to realize Aoki's color had evolved.
It took me two seasons (and a movie) to feel secure that Kiyoi was a Heavenly Human in My Beautiful Man.
And it took me until midway through Semantic Error to figure out why the red disappeared.
That's how The On1y One is for me. I knew yellow/orange and blue would play some part in the story based on the posters, but I wasn't sure how until I started seeing more visuals appear.
Because even though I saw a yellow container of food for Sheng Wang in the first episode,
I didn't realize he mostly ate color-coded food until episode four.
It's such a tiny detail, so I could have easily missed it, but because I know that he is a picky eater, I feel like it's not simply a coincidence, and I quickly noticed it in the eighth episode.
But I needed to collect more images before I could state that. I needed to let the story develop before I realized it. I needed to settle into it. And that's why I wrote my halfway point post after a few people asked if I noticed.
Because I know I seem like a magician who shouts a lot, but I'm not. Sometimes, I have to be patient and let the colors sneak up on me while I'm simply enjoying the moment, like Sheng Wang's orange alarm clock nestled into the corner of his bed while he falls asleep on his light yellow pillow in his light yellow shirt.
I know not all visuals can be a literal bright yellow sign hanging from the color-coded boy's room, ya know?
I'm not Jenny who cannot grasp that she keeps taking food and drinks meant for Benny even when he realized if she could figure out the mug was about gay rights without realizing he was gay then someone smarter will along and piece the dots together . . .
Because like, girl, he's gay.
But it does take me time to collect images and get my thoughts in order, so until then, I'm going to be quiet.
Or as quiet as a loud ass like me can be.
#the on1y one#I won't move past that mug#like girl . . .#piece the dots together#the colors mean things#color coded boys in love#I'm trying to be quiet#I need to collect more images#I need to organize my thoughts#I need to live in the mess for a bit
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Do you have any HCs for Kayleigh?? I always wonder about the pre-AFTG series story (and the big players).
There’s brief stuff in the EC abt Tetsuji & Kayleigh. but other than that it’s pretty blank?
Also the detail abt exy becoming popular partially via a manga ? I want the missing chapter when Tetsuji reacts to that 😭😭
Oh Kayleigh and Tetsuji!!!!!!!! I picture her so clearly in University in Dublin in her final year of Sports Management or whatever course she did, writing her thesis on mixed gender sports or the invention of new sports and sitting down with her thesis lecturer with this idea. Kayleigh finding a mentor in this man, or woman, and saying to them I want to do something bold, something amazing. She's on the Lacrosse team in UCD. She plays on as many of the teams that she can without jeopardising her studies.
Kayleigh moving to Japan for her masters, and meeting Tetsuji, and she sees herself in him, this glint in his eyes that says he needs to be destined for more. Them sitting across from each other in the library with books about sports and the invention of different things and Tetsuji looks at a sport like Lacrosse and says it's missing something. I think it could be better. And they spitball these ideas back and forth. Should it be on ice, bigger teams, smaller teams? Should it be outdoors or indoors? Is it violence? Is it violence that it's missing?
Kayleigh talking to her mom, sending letters to Ireland, making expensive phone calls in the middle of the night all the way across the world, begging her to send her VHS tapes of as many hurling games as she could find - her mother complaining about how expensive they'd be to ship to Japan, but she agrees anyway. Kayleigh finding as many books as she can about Irish sport and the history of it all. It's a couple of weeks before she get the package at her door, and she calls Tetsuji when he's in the middle of a lecture and tells him to come over. There in front of her is four, five, six tapes of All Ireland final matches, and they sit down in front of the TV with their notebooks in front of them.
They don't write anything after the first match, Tetsuji staring at the screen like he's taking it all in, Kayleigh staring at him with a smile on her face like this is what he was waiting to see. 70 minutes go by and she switches the tape out for another one, and then another, and another, and they stay up until the sun rises just taking notes and watching. Brainstorming. Kayleigh explains the rules to him. They draw pictures, and there's a million failed ideas that don't work, like a flat racquet more similar to a hurley than a lacrosse stick, or helmets more similar to a cricket helmet than an american football one. No armor, more armor, too much armor.
Them finding each other after class, and proposing this idea for their dissertation, their master's thesis, their final project, and getting a ridiculous look. Getting shut down, getting told it's ridiculous. So they do what they were supposed to do; make it fucking happen anyway.
They spend all the savings that they have, and Tetsuji contacts his family, and they get things shipped over to Japan - hurling helmets, hockey gear, lacrosse sticks. All these mish-mash element that creates the idea thats been living inside their heads. They have 10 different types of balls, a tennis ball, a cricket ball, a baseball, all these different options, and the two of them find out the schedule of all the pitches and fields and courts on campus and try it everywhere. It's messy, but it's exciting, and invigorating. They have their bulging notebooks on the ground, and every rule and idea they have, every thing that feels right or wrong, they write it down. They're taping weights around the lacrosse sticks to see if it feels better, padding out their gear with cardboard and duct tape. There's something missing, still. They try it on ice, and its too unbalanced and sloppy, but the first time Tetsuji shoots a ball at the plexiglass wall, and it rebounds right into Kayleigh's net, they both look at each other like that's it. That's what we've been missing. They jump on top of each other and get scolded for falling on the ice and screaming in the rink.
They figure out how much it would cost for them to rent out the unused college soccer pitch for the summer, and find ten of their friends and classmates and explain the rules as best they can. It's expensive, buying the gear for them all, figuring out how to surround the soccer pitch in plexiglass that's strong enough to not topple over from the weight of a person. They spend that summer finessing the rules, and finessing the positions, and teaching their friends how to play. By September, Tetsuji invites his family to watch, and Kayleigh invites their lecturers to watch, and there they stand. The first ever game of Exy.
It's not perfect - a goal falls over, the floor of the pitch isn't quite working, because they keep stumbling over their own feet when they run, but it's a brilliant thing to watch; something new, and unique, and never been done before. Kayleigh's team beats Tetsuji's team, and for a while they don't hear much. But their friends keep playing, they keep contacting people, making phonecalls to manufacturers and sports clubs.
I'm just thinking about those first few years where Kayleigh and Tetsuji probably spent every waking moment together just figuring it out. Their dorm rooms or apartments full of crap, different balls and equipment. Her bedroom wall covered in drawing and scraps of paper and ideas. Them spending most of their time on the phone with each other when they're not together in person. Thinking about them creating presentations and pitches and just trying to get their silly little idea of the ground, waiting for someone to take a chance on them, waiting for all the different sports committees and companies to call them back. A million "Sorry, no thank you!" emails and a million "It's just not something we can help you with" letters and phone calls. Until they get that one, then those two, those three words that say fucking go for it. The four words that say I believe in this.
I think about Kayleigh and Tetsuji running off of redbull and adrenaline, and how happy they would've felt when that first game finished and they saw something in each others eyes. Before their passion got killed by the reality, by the Moriyama's, by the world pushing them back again and again and again. But more of their classmates get involved. Somebody asked "What is it that you kids have built on the soccer field?" and then it's in a local paper. It's letters sent back to Ireland signed off in Japanese saying I can't wait to tell you what I've been working on.
Yeah. Yeah I have a lot of thoughts about Kayleigh. I have some images of her and Tetsuji in my head. Just a few!
#literally giddy just thinking about them tbh#also idfk how you invent a sport dont come for me#kayleigh day#tetsuji moriyama#aftg#all for the game#mine#ask
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The studious type (a Miguel O'hara fanfic, 18+, MDNI)
Summary: Boyfriend Miguel helping you relax during your finals week.
Tags: F/M, afab reader, College AU, established relationship, smut, oral sex (F. receiving), Miguel being a munch (because I can), use of condoms, masturbation, thigh riding, PIV penetration, fluff, soft Miguel O’hara, a bit of dirty talk, aftercare
Note: Finals are not the only thing coming… Very self-indulgent. My first time trying this format, hope you like it.
I am too tired and I don’t have much time, so please, accept this blurb instead of a real story ToT
============================================
Saying that you are anxious for your upcoming finals is an understatement. You keep on pulling all-nighter after all-nighter, taking micro nap sometimes, eating only instant noodles… Finals are really taking a toll on your physical and mental health. And it shows. You also start to get tired and more susceptible.
This doesn’t go unnoticed by your boyfriend, Miguel. Not only does he notice all of this but he also tries to help you as much as he can.
He also has to think about his own finals but that doesn’t stop him from texting you every day, making sure you’re eating enough, taking some naps and just to check on you in general. He is not really prone to public displays of affection or such things but he cares. And his way to show it is by his actions, as small as they may seem.
The two of you also had shared study session. It didn’t matter that you had different classes and majors. You would just keep helping each other, exchanging glances from time to time… And each time Miguel would feel you close to falling asleep, he would either tell you to rest or wake you up with a gentle nudge, depending on the time of the day.
Always brings your favorite snacks to make sure you have eaten at least one thing.
He doesn’t say it but you really amaze him. You’re always motivated, determined to do your best no matter what. One would even call you a perfectionist but that doesn’t bother him. He is really supportive of you in everything you make. You got a presentation? He’ll gladly listen to you as if he was your future audience. You could be talking about something he knows nothing about and he would still be 100% invested in your speech, asking questions afterward… You want to write a phd thesis? He got your back. You want to spend more time than it’s necessary on a paper because the topic matters to you? He will proofread you.
Needless to say, you gladly do the same for him. In fact he likes when you ask questions about what he is working on. And it’s actually endearing to see him geek out about things like dark energy, quantum physics and other things that would usually bore you to death.
After every study session, he walks with you to your bus/ subway station. You usually don’t talk much since you are both tired. Sometimes he would take your hand and slips his fingers between yours without saying anything about it.
Always texts you to make sure you did get back home safely.
You can be sure that the last day of your exam (or a few days after if his finals end later), the two of you will have one of your usual date nights.
Depending on how tired he is, he would either cook something or order take out. If he cooks something, you always make sure to bring something of your own. Even if he tells you that you don’t have to, he always ends up eating what you bring because he is a sweet tooth.
You’re usually too tired after finals to do anything else than just sitting on his couch, watching a movie the two of you probably already watched a hundred of times but that doesn’t matter. There’s something comfortable in what’s predictable.
And every part of this evening is predictable. From you falling asleep while the two of you cuddle to him gently playing with your hair in order to keep you awake. If it’s cold outside, you are wrapped under a warm blanket that covers each of your limbs. His hand that holds your waist slowly drifts to your thigh and draws lazy shape over it. He is not even thinking about it; it has become a habit of his.
Just like the way you nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck while wrapping your arms around his shoulders. Was it the most comfortable position? Not. Did you care? Also no.
The night would usually end with Miguel having to carry you to bed since you passed out on the couch.
NSFW content ahead
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But sometimes the night would take an unexpected turn. All these days and even weeks spent studying had left the two of you filled with pent-up sexual frustration. And no alone time was the same as the intimacy you guys wanted.
You’re sitting on Miguel’s lap in front of the TV, but none of you are really paying attention to the movie at this point of the night.
He is too distracted by the scent of your hair since your head is so close to his face. His fingers playing with the locks of your hair are not enough for him. He has reached this part of the night where he wants more. He kisses the top of your head in an attempt to test the waters, see if you’re in the same mood.
He would make it look like it’s nothing, or an accident but the two of you know each other too well. After the third kiss, you understand what he has in mind. And you’ve been thinking the same thing all night long, if not longer. These last weeks have been nothing but frustration and you’re more than ready to give in.
You lean further into his embrace, clearly indicating your will to go further. You do this in a nonchalant way, as if it was nothing but he noticed the way your thighs brush against his and how you rest more of your weight near his crotch region.
The hand that was on your lower back supporting you slowly snakes up along your spine until it rests on the back of your neck. His free hand drifts toward your thigh to draw lazy shapes over it. But this time he is deliberately thinking about the moves he makes. His fingertips brush over you as if it was an accident once again, it’s barely a flicker.
The back of his fingers drag along the curve of your thigh, running over your skin until he reaches your knees. He repeats this movement over and over before gripping your thighs more intently. His fingers dig into your flesh, making you feel very aware of his presence behind you. He would usually use his thumb to draw small circles on your inner thigh, eliciting a trail of goosebumps all along.
While the two of you played this little game, you never look at each other. On your side, you still pretend that nothing’s happening, keeping your eyes on the TV but still pushing yourself more against him. He can feel your chest presses against his, your hair brushing his chin and at some point, you’re practically just sitting on his groin.
As the evening goes on, Miguel’s hands get bolder with his actions. He squeezes your thigh from time to time before eventually bringing it under your shirt, avoiding the spot you want him on on purpose. His warm touch on your stomach makes you squirm on top of him. The way your hips shift doesn’t help with his growing erection and his hand on your neck keep you in place, holding you in a careful but firm way.
Without saying a word, his fingertips dance their way over the curve of your belly. He makes sure to trace over the folds of your skin, of every roll on your tummy, to just explore and take in the softness of your belly. He can’t wait for the moment his face will make contact with it. Your skin is too smooth to resist it in his opinion.
You’re a blushing mess at this point and you don’t dare looking at what his hands are doing on you. Your breath gets a little more shallow with every stroke of his on your stomach. He leans closer and brings his face to the crook of your neck, nibbling your skin while making fun of you for not being attentive to the movie playing in the background. When he sees how flustered your are, he decides to act upon it.
“Got something else on your mind?”
You just nod your head and tighten your grip on his shoulder. But he has other plans for you. The hand behind your neck now grabs your waist and makes you sit still over his bulge. Your eyes are on the TV and your mind is on Miguel’s body.
His fingertips brush over your crotch, making you squirm more. Your butt rubs against his crotch and he can’t hide a smile this time. His fingertips barely tap over your crotch before his middle finger rubs over your slit. He then rubs two of his fingers over your groin, pushing his fingers against the fabric of your pants, rubbing his fingers in circle… When he gets too frustrated by the fabric covering you, he asks you if he can just take it off.
“Wanna feel you closer, muñeca...” That’s what he would usually whisper into your ear before kissing your earlobe. You can feel his warm breath, his voice almost shaking with desire as he toys with your zipper. A nod of you and your pants are pulled down your thighs. He doesn’t wait for you to remove them fully or even take off your underwear. His eager finger keeps rubbing you over the fabric of your panties until a damp spot appears in the front.
You lost the count of time as the minutes pass. You’re making a mess of yourself, rubbing yourself on him and when he finally pulls down your underwear and his hand cups your sex, the two of you let out a low moan. His fingers find their way through your bush and he rubs your labia, waiting for you to let him know when you’re ready to take him.
You bite down your lower lip and completely leans back against his body. He wraps his arm around you, holding you tightly and making sure you’re comfortable. Miguel then kisses your cheek. He rubs his nose against your skin, kisses your jawline before nuzzling his face in the crook of your nick, kissing and lapping at your skin.
The movie has already come to an end and in the silence of the room, your moans and Miguel’s heavy breath are the only thing that can be heard. His hooked fingers stimulate your clitoris and when you get comfortable enough, he starts thrusting them in and out of you, almost scissoring you.
He then brings his attention to your clitoris, rubbing it in slow motions. He can feel it throbbing under his fingertips and that makes him moan against the skin of your neck. His warm breath raises all the small hair on your nape and you’re getting hot and bothered. His words aren’t helping either.
“I’ll be damned if I don’t taste you before the end of the night. Been craving this pussy of yours for day now...”
When he catches you trying to relieve yourself of all the tension, he whispers “What are you doing?” There’s no anger in his voice, just pure astonishment. “You know you could just ask…”
The mischief in his voice doesn’t go unnoticed by you. He likes seeing you this needy and you can feel it. Your body writes on top of him and your shoulders slouch down when you whisper his name. You know what he wants to hear and you finally surrender when the teasing gets too overwhelming. “Please, Miguel…”
Your needy voice gets him to smile again. He leaves an affectionate kiss on the back of your neck before pulling his fingers out. He wouldn’t mind having his way with you here and there but he has more self-control than that. He gently kisses your shoulder before lifting your body up.
He usually carries you to the bedroom, helping you lay down the bed while the two of you undress. When your clothes are discarded on the floor and he is busy looking for the box of condoms in his nightstand, you take a good look at him. You watch his figure being drawn by the shadows in the room and your gaze lingers on his back. From his shoulders to the small of his back, your eyes trail down his spine. You smile when you see his back dimples and he catches you staring.
With a cheeky grin on his face, he gets back on the bed. You’re expecting a kiss but his lips land on your stomach. His face rests against your skin while he kisses you all over the smooth surface of your belly. Maybe it’s the scent of your lotion. Maybe it’s the way he can feel your breath catching up. Maybe it’s how close he is to your arousal and can literally smell it… he doesn’t know exactly what makes him love him love this moment but he never gets tired of kissing you there.
Of course he has to taste you after that. Each of his kisses send an electrifying feeling to your body and you can feel yourself growing more aroused. When he starts eating you out, you wrap your legs around his head and this feeling immediately gets stronger.
One of his hand holds your thigh while the other keeps teasing you. His fingers keep thrusting in and out of you while his tongue focuses on your clitoris, sucking and licking. When he feels you close, he keeps his pace steady, focused on only one thing. You. Your thighs quivering around his face, your hands holding his hair, your soft moans… He has waited too long for that and when you finally relax and release all the pressure inside you, he growls against your lips.
He quickly wipes your juice off his chin and gets up. His body towers over you, watching the aftermath of what he did to you. His thumb rubs over your sticky thighs and with his free hand, he brings his cock closer to you. You can see the red and swollen head of his member rubbing against your clit while a few moans escape his throat. He throws his head backward, his shoulders quivering as he feels himself growing more impatient.
He is still careful when he penetrates you, using a tad of lube to make this easier. And the fun part is that he gets to tease you more while rubbing it over your entrance. You wait patiently, at least you try, with your hands gripping the sheets while he gets you prepped up.
Everything feels worth it as soon as you feel him moving inside of you. He keeps his pace gentle, making the moment last as longs as possible. You’ve both been waiting too long for this for it to end too soon. Your limbs are entangled over the sheets and he melds into you. You brush away a few strands of hair from his face and he leans his cheek into your palm. His lips place a few kisses on your hand and even your wrist.
You both make sure to never break eye contact, reading on the other one’s face his emotions. He can see from your red cheeks and parted lips that you enjoy this moment. With one hand on your cheek, he leans closer and kisses the tip of your nose before whispering sweet nothings to you. It could be about how he likes your scent, your eyes, or even how good you feel wrapped around him…
Your hands travel down his back that you were admiring earlier and grabs his butt cheeks firmly when he starts to fasten his pace. You keep guiding him with not only your expressions but also your words. When he gets closer to his release, his shoulders lock tightly and you can feel every muscle on his body flex.
He is not really vocal in this moment and usually a few groans let you know that he reached his climax. However he likes hearing your small whimpers while your body writhes and arch under him. He watches you reaching your orgasm with a content smile before kissing your forehead, telling you how good you were.
The two of you stay in bed a few minutes after this moment. He doesn’t usually pull out immediately after, letting you feel him inside of your walls as his member gets back to its usual size. Even after that, you’re still locked together in a tight hug. He knows he will have to let you go at some point but for now he just wants to keep you inside his arms as long as he can.
The aftercare can vary depending on your mood. If the two of you are in a good mood or still feeling playful, you keep exchanging a few kisses. Miguel’s fingers keep running over the curves of your body, especially your stomach and your thighs. On your side, you like letting your fingers run down his spine until you reach the small of his back. Your fingers then brush against his skin in slow circles. He both loves and hates when you do that. You know he is very sensitive down there and he can’t hold back a few moans.
Some days he would help you get into your pajamas while kissing your shoulders and the back of your neck. You don’t speak that much these days but the silence is not awkward. It’s rather comforting. His fingers run down your hair and he can’t help but take in the scent of your curls. He watches you detangle your hair after a long day of work. This has easily become one of his favorite rituals of yours. When you’re done, his fingers run smoothly down your hair and he watches you in awe braid it, helping you when you ask for it. You can be sure that as soon as your nape is exposed, he will kiss it gently.
It usually doesn’t take long for the two of you to fall asleep after this. His arms are wrapped tightly around you, even though he knows you will probably move too much during your sleep for it to be really useful. But he doesn’t care and you nestle yourself against him.
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Note: This was supposed to be really short but I got carried away ToT
Thansk for reading.
#miguel o'hara#atsv miguel#spiderverse#spiderman 2099#across the spiderverse#miguel x reader#miguel o'hara smut#fanfic#atsv#miguel o'hara au
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The Magnus Protocol Alchemical Theory Ramble
I've been really into alchemy recentyl due to it's connections to The Magnus Protocol (probably to woe of my thesis supervisor), but the more I read the more some stuff that already have happened is starting to make sense to me. This post will be probably due to an update once I get further in my research, but I wanted to get some stuff out of my system as it's still fresh in my mind (people also wanted an update on my previous post where I spoke how there is a lot of connections between history of alchemy and TMAGP so here it is).
Keep in mind this is very brief explanation cause history of alchemy is MASSIVE, so I will be mostly focusing on a brief period in 12-14th century where alchemy was kind of the talk of the ruling class (mostly church). I will also not be explaning much the alchemical goals, but the purpouse of this post I will say chrysopoeia (transmutation of metals into gold) and connected concept of a Philosopher's Stone were two of the main ones.
Natural vs Artificial
The main concern with alchemy in the eyes of the church at the time was the issue of "natural" vs "artificial" gold. You see there were few loosely documented cases where alchemists seemingly reached one of their main goals and trasmutated some metals into gold. The problem was this "alchemical gold" was either devauling natural gold (if real), which was also an issue of "playing God" it was by divine design a fixed amount of gold in the world existed, or an elaborate way to counterfiet coins (if not real). This combined with the concerns of using artificial gold in medicine pushed alchemy into an underground by a decree of pope John XXII by forbidding alchemists from selling this alchemical gold (and silver). Roger Bacon and Albertus Magnus (known alchemists) were however both subscribed to idea that not only is alchemical gold equal to the natural one, it's actually better than natural one.
I see a connection here between "natural" fears (Smirk's 14) and "artificial" fears (clearly a faction of people who experiment on people, forcibly turning them into some type of creatures that resemble TMA's avatars). If we see Entities as apexes of their domains, these "offshoots" we've seen so far could be read as attempts of creating new entities by amature "alchemists" of this universe. This leads us very nicely into the second section.
Deckname, hiding in plain sight
You see, because alchemy was becoming quite controversial alchemists needed to hide their recipies. Deckname describes a way alchemists hid some of their exact recipies by using allegories, same names for multiple ingredients or (quite the opposite) one name for multiple ingredients. This concept wasn't new as in even in arabic writings on alchemy we can observer use of Deckname, but in ~13th century it was quite prelevant and even sometimes mixed with religious imagery (which will be important later). The general idea was to hide infromation with this type of "code", but not in such a way as it would be virtually impossible to decipher (as this would deem it useless). It also connects with the idea of "scattering" information (ingredients) as to send some scholars on this wild goose chase for Philosopher's Stone.
I don't think I need to talk much on how German way of hiding information might connect to the fact Freddie is a mysterious program written in German code that seemingly does not make much sense (with Deckname being intensively decribed by an arabist named KRAUS of all things). What I would like to point out that even very early on I believed that Freddie is used to crossreference attempts at creation of Philosopher's Stone and it's becoming much more likely this is a case, especially if you consider the next point.
The battle against the Antichrist
You see, alchemy wasn't like a one school of thought with a proper way to perform it, it was a science much like chemistry is today (alchemy is like a granddaddy of chemistry anyway). One of the concept that caught on, especially with the faction of Franciscan Spirituals (which is like hardcore Franciscans who liked to predict end of the world a lot) was the idea that Antichrist is coming and that all knowledge will be needed to stop him. Franciscan friar Roger Bacon even wrote a letter to the pope about it. This connected to with alchemy created a notion of a Philosopher's Stone as a tool in stopping the Antichrist which will be important later.
The Magnus Institute did tests on children that were mostly measuring three things: their developemnt, their empathy and how compliant they are. Given the history of the Institute in TMA it's hard to believe they were doing it for selfless and pure reasons, so I believe they were monitoring children to catch the possible "antichrist" and use their potnential for their own gain (note that I do not believe this "antichrist" is like a christian concept in TMAGP universe, I think it's something more aligned with entities or a purely symbolic title for some type of individual).
The torment of Messiah
For every Antichrist there's gotta be a-christ and alchemy actually did have a concept of one. You see, combining Deckname and the battle with Antichrist the Philosopher's Stone was very often hidden under the allegory of the Passion of Christ. Alchemists believed they are in a way tormenting metals by subduing them to all these processes (this is where the word crucible comes from by the way, it's "the little place of torment"), combine that with Antichrist theory and Jesus became a great allegory for creation of The Stone. Alchemists believe that metal (most often mercury) would have to go through four stages of torment before "ascending" similar how Jesus did (the incarnation, the crucifixion, the resurrection, and the ascension). This were in fact only believed to be instructions hidden in religious imagery.
I believe TMAGP does reverse of that concept. We've seen the Intitute use chemical terms like agent and catalyst do describe either the paranormal items or their wielders. I believe that the faction currently pulling the strings is using alchemical writings to experiment on people through tormenting them and exposing them to what is left of TMA Entities after traversing the universes. Some of those parts were used to make Freddie, that's why we got The Voices, but some are used to make eldritch abominations like we've seen so far. I'm not sure if Messiah in this sense is to be considered a benevolent concept, perhaps it's simply a being that will stop the apocalypse, but I believe that Antichrist is probably rebirth of The Prime Fear all Entities came from in TMA.
Closing thoughts
You can take that with a grain of salt, as I'm not a proficient alchemy scholar, but I won't deny the fact all of this so far fits pretty well and I can already see how this could play into many arcs (like how Celia has a baby that could be the "natural" antichrist and Sam with "chosen boy" issues could become the chosen "artificial" Messiah). If there are other points anyone with more knowledge on alchemy would like to mention in this post feel free to do so!
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— meet cute of the century (a teaser) ⟢
the last thing you expected when you volunteered at your city’s local animal shelter is to meet the hottest, clumsiest cat person in the world. now if only he’d just adopt one of them so you’d stop ogling him every time he drops by.
★ FEATURING; wonwoo x reader
★ WORD COUNT; 1.7k words
★ TAGS; meet cute, strangers to lovers, pining, some angst, smut (though this teaser is completely sfw!)
★ TAGS; mentions of accidents but it's not given much detail
★ NOTES; i'm back with my low quality wonwoo bf pics for my teaser headers hehe i am soooo excited to write the rest for this! honestly didn't think the teaser would end up this long but here we are :3c little heads up that some parts of this teaser could change in the full story, but nothing major plot-wise will be taken out. hope you like it!
this is part of the doting on you! series.
There are a handful of things that a college student can do with their free time. Studying, hanging out with friends, and maybe even picking up a hobby of sorts. You, on the other hand, use up all the hours you’re not spending on your undergrad thesis or sleeping the day away at an animal shelter just a few minutes away from your apartment.
Your friends constantly wonder how you’re still able to maintain a remarkable GPA with a part-time job that’s starting to look full-time, but you just laugh their questions off for the most part—saying that other people have got it worse than you, but can still perform leagues better academically.
You also tell them that most of your motivation comes from all the unadopted animals from the shelter. You started as a volunteer just to kill time on weekends when you’re free, but even if you knew better than to get attached to all those adorable faces, you eventually found yourself on the part-time employee roster anyways.
Now you’re rushing to finish your degree so you can get a neat sugar mommy job that’ll let you afford to adopt everyone that’s been stuck in the shelter for nearly a year or more.
Okay, maybe not everyone because you’re no fool with a savior complex. But just enough to give a few furry friends a new home, right?
“Don’t look now,” your coworker, Mari whispers conspiratorially while you’re in the middle of snacking in the break room, “but that cutie you’ve been crushing on just walked inside. He’s checking out the cats out in the playroom as usual.”
Right. Apart from your altruistic dream of adopting as many animals as your financial capabilities can allow, there’s another reason you’re always looking forward to your shifts at the shelter. A reason that you’re a bit too embarrassed to let your friends know about.
You nearly choke on a potato chip when Mari breaks the news and she immediately laughs in your face. Glaring at her, you compose yourself with a long gulp of water before saying, “I do not have a crush on him.”
“Sure,” she plays along. “If you consider making googly eyes at the guy every time he drops by as ‘not having a crush on him’, then I’ll concur.”
“I hate you.”
“No you don’t, sweetheart. Now get out there and sweet talk him into take one of the kittens home! Pretty sure he wants one if he’s been showing up as much as he did for the last two months.”
While you would’ve argued that the so-called cutie you’ve been crushing on could just like seeing the cats play around in his free time, you don’t really have much energy to play mental gymnastics with Mari. You’ve had a long day of revisions and other nonsense materials you have to submit for your majors, so you’ll let this one slide.
Your workplace is as bleak as every other shelter you’ve seen a few times in your life. Gray walls, concrete floors, and steel cages stacked on top of each other. It looks more like a prison than anything, really, but it’s the staff and those kind-hearted souls who rehome animals that have long been abandoned that give the entire place some life.
While Mister Cutie That You’ve Been Quote-Unquote Crushing On doesn’t exactly fall into either of those categories, you like to think he still leaves the building just a touch colorful once he walks out of the front door.
Speaking of color, he’s wearing a loose, dark green shirt that falls just below his elbows. Cutie—as you’ve deigned to call him not because you think he’s cute but because you’re yet to get his name—has one palm flattened across the viewing glass of the playroom. He’s wearing his usual black face mask today, but from the way his eyes glint behind his glasses, you’re just going to assume he’s having a good time just by watching the cats frolic inside.
“You’re here pretty late,” you state nonchalantly before standing a few feet away from him.
“Is that so strange?” he murmurs with a chuckle, surprisingly not startled with your sudden entrance before glancing your way. “I always show up here at this hour, don’t I?”
God. No matter how many times you hear his voice, you just can’t get over how deep it is. But before any of your thoughts could show on your face, you get talking.
“True. You’ve sparked a debate among the volunteers about your line of work, actually.” Not exactly. You’re not sure if any of the volunteers have even seen this guy, since they mostly work day shifts. “Anyway, are you just here to check ‘em out or am I finally going to hand you the adoption papers?”
His eyes crinkle a bit before he shifts his gaze towards the playroom again. Most of the older cats have already been put back in their respective cages. All that’s left inside are the kittens with way too much energy to spare. The director, A.K.A., your boss, believes that it’s best to tire them out first before settling them into individual enclosures for the night. Keeps the place nice and quiet for the evening shift fellows like yourself.
“Not yet, sadly,” Cutie says with a sigh before pointing at one of the kittens huddled up in a corner. “That one’s new, isn’t it? I don’t think I’ve seen him around before.”
“Her,” you correct. “Her name’s Hani. She’s a stray that someone from the university I’m attending brought in last week. It was pretty ugly, actually. Poor thing got into an accident and was bleeding everywhere. Good thing our usual vet was paying a visit when they came here.”
“Oh? That’s a relief then. No wonder she’s got a little limp every time she walks around,” he observes with a saddened tone. “But I digress. You mentioned you were attending university?”
…Okay, why’d the topic of interest suddenly shift to you?
But since it’s a harmless enough question, you reply with, “Yeah. The one that’s just a few blocks away. It’s kinda why the person who found Hani brought her here instead of a vet clinic. The nearest one’s like half an hour away.”
“Good call, good call.” He nods with a look of understanding. “I hope someone comes and adopts her. She deserves all the love she can get. Well, everyone here does of course.”
You flash him a conniving smile, raising your brows a few times. “You could give that to her.”
Cutie shakes his head with another low-pitched laugh. “As much as I’d love to, my…living conditions won’t be suitable for her at all. Or any of the other animals for the matter.”
“Hm?” You stare at him curiously. “Your landlord doesn’t allow pets or something?”
“Mmm… Not exactly.”
The conversation pretty much ends there. Cutie excuses himself—saying that someone is waiting for him at home. You don’t know why your heart deflates a little at the very real possibility that he has a significant other. Then again, if you’re this whipped when you haven’t even seen his face, you could only imagine how easy it would be for him to settle down with someone who has.
Either way, it’s none of your business. And correction: you’re not whipped. Just…hyper aware of his presence every time he stops by.
Despite the fact that you’re dead-set on filing away this strange fascination you have for the guy, however…
“Wait!”
Cutie turns around to face you with an inquisitive look. “Yes?”
You swallow thickly, deciding to just bite the bullet before your nerves get the best of you. “What’s your name? I can’t keep calling you Cu—I mean, Glasses Guy in my head whenever you pay us a visit.”
He blinks for a few seconds, obviously nonplussed by your forwardness but you don’t think your pride can take it anymore if you had to refer to him as—
“You can call me Woo,” he says warmly and you can almost see the smile that stretches behind that black face mask.
Shit. Did your heart just stutter?
“Mister Woo—”
“Just Woo is fine.”
“Okay, Woo,” you start, kind of liking the way that something that’s obviously a nickname rolls off the tongue, “just let me know if you ever want to take Hani home. We’re open twenty four-seven, as you already know.”
He nods. “Sure thing. Is it okay if I can get your number for that?”
Now you have to fight the urge to scowl at him after he’s been so nice to you all night—and every other night he’s dropped by.
This guy isn’t flirting with you. He said it himself—someone’s waiting for him at home! Plus, he’s expressed consistent interest in adopting a kitten for himself a handful of times before. Maybe he just connected with Hani on a level that’s above the others. Enough to ask for your number since the possibility of him bringing one of these angels home is becoming more and more real.
Yeah, that’s definitely the reason!
So you give it to him—hastily scrawled behind an old flier gathering dust in one of the drawers on the front desk. It’s way too big to write just yours and the shelter’s contact details on, but the other calling cards are nowhere in sight. You’ll have to ask Mari if she’s seen them once—
“Thanks. I’ll keep in touch,” Woo tells you while folding the sheet of paper into a sleek black Louis Vuitton wallet.
Wait a minute.
Before you can even seriously ponder about what job he’s got to be able to afford that, Woo is already out of the door—heading into the evening streets without once looking back.
“Gosh, I swear that guy’s an idol in disguise or something.”
That’s the first thing that Mari tells you when you find her doing a few rounds among the sleeping dogs in the far back. You haven’t even spoken a single word about your most recent exchange.
“What makes you think that?”
“He just exudes idol vibes, y’know? Shows up here when the place is deserted. Always acts subtle and inconspicuous. Oh and not to mention how hot he looks even with a face mask on! He could be that one idol your little sister is crazy about.”
You roll your eyes at her odd ways of deduction. “Mari, I’ve seen enough of Haewon’s Mingyu merch to last a lifetime and Woo definitely does not look like him.”
“Oh?” Your coworker perks up with a mischievous smile. “You finally got his name, huh?”
God. This is going to be a long shift.
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#svthub#seventeen smut#wonwoo smut#wonwoo fanfic#seventeen fanfic#wonwoo x reader#seventeen x reader#lovelyhan
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