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endless-ineffabilities · 2 months ago

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chemical override (10)

Ewan Mitchell x actress!reader

a/n: as dictated by the results of poll #6, this chapter will include stunt training, clubbing, and an accident. Plus, you've got tub anon to thank for... well... the tub scene :) Oh, and this is kind of 18+. Just a tad.

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Matt and the reader eagerly explore the uncharted waters of their budding relationship. Ewan is booked and busy with the preparation for his new franchise. Will Ewan and his darling even find time for each other, or should they just take this opportunity to let go?

The internet, ever so informative, lets you know that Ewan and Jenna’s arrangement is in its initial stages before he even calls to tell you.

Their first interview with Josh Horowitz is immediately followed by another feature on the movie set, with the two talking about the pre-production, what they liked about the script, and their chemistry, which according to them, came naturally and did not require much work at all. It was practically the thing they had to work on the least. How lucky.

A lighthearted reprieve came in the form of a meme that started circulating not long after their interview with Josh. In it, Ewan is caught looking like he's either malfunctioning or deep in a philosophical crisis. The internet ran with it, with captions like, ‘When you realise you left the oven on at home’, to comparing him to an NPC glitching out.

When you asked him about it, he quickly stammered that he simply spaced out. Sure. It was hilarious, nonetheless.

Your publicist Mallory had commented that soon Ewan and Jenna would be obliged to go on pap walks, something that would appear casual and separate from the confines of the project that they’re working on. Something that signals that their relationship is making it into the real world.

“That whole casual ‘just friends hanging out’ vibe they’re gonna push? It’s all part of the gig,” Mallory shared. “Next thing you know, they’ll be taking long walks on the beach or grabbing coffee in some trendy LA spot.”

You’d be lying if you said it didn’t sting. Even just a little. Sure, you know what the business is like. You’ve been on the same end of that deal just recently, with your own film’s PR efforts. But this arrangement that Ewan has doesn’t seem like the usual short-term fling to drum up buzz. It feels… heavy, like something that might actually stick.

“I’d be lying if I say I don’t find it all annoying, darling, but I try to look at it now as part of the job, you know?” he had said, when he phoned you one evening – his afternoon – to let you know that his stay in LA would be much longer than expected.

You responded with, “Oh, yeah, I completely understand.” What else can you do? You aren’t together – you don’t have a claim to him, and vice versa. You thought that would make things better – easier – but you’re still waiting for that sense of comfort to kick in.

This is for the best, you would remind yourself every time a new headline surfaces.

It’s only been a month since you last properly saw Ewan, since that night on the rooftop. In the early days, he messaged every day, called whenever he had a spare moment. But slowly, the calls have become shorter, more sporadic – chalked up to his increasingly busy schedule. Your tones have become more dispassionate – he blames it on his exhaustion, profusely swearing that he misses you so fucking much, but something feels different.

Your job keeps you busy, with your commitments related to the new season of House of the Dragon, event appearances, and gearing up for the release of your film with Jacob. You are even invited to the upcoming Vanity Fair Young Hollywood Ball, an exclusive party to be held in New York.

And Matt is a more than welcome distraction.

Matt, who has begun spending more time in your apartment after Ewan’s temporary move to LA. Matt, who brings you flowers that are apparently ‘beautiful, but pales in comparison to you’. Matt, who is unfailingly a gentleman, respecting your boundaries and not making a move since that time on your couch after your first date, when you told him to wait.

He sits with you by your kitchen counter, in a disarmingly tight white shirt that leaves little to the imagination, one sturdy hand nursing a cup of coffee and the other on the small of your back to support you as you sit on the high stool, and you suddenly don’t want him to wait anymore.

“Have you decided on what you’ll be wearing to the screening tonight, love?” he asks.

“Why? Does it have to be pre-approved?” you playfully quip, narrowing your eyes at him.

“Ah,” he nods, smiling, playing along, “of course, of course. You think I’m an easy man to date? You’ve got to keep up with my standards, as beautiful as you already are.”

You laugh, playfully mussing his hair, and he catches your wrist before it drops back on the counter. He says, “I ask because I wanted to match you, so to speak. We’d be like two peas in a pod.”

“Oh,” you snort softly, “or you know, like Tweedledee and Tweedledum?”

“Funny girl,” he muses, before leaning forward and capturing your lips in a soft kiss, caffeinated and warm and Matty. You notice that his hand on your back is pressed firmer – he didn’t want you to slip when you leaned in.

Charming bastard. He isn’t making things any easier… or maybe he is.

Maybe he’s it.

But the moment’s broken by a loud, offended-sounding meow. You look down to see Sansa, staring at Matt like he’s personally responsible for all the world’s problems.

“Hey, babygirl,” Matt croons, extending a hand toward her. Sansa, the biggest diva of a kitten, just gives him a slow blink before trotting off, clearly unimpressed.

“Calling her babygirl isn’t going to make her warm up to you,” you tease.

“She already doesn’t seem to like me,” he replies, scoffing. “Which is a shock, pretty much, how can she not?”

“So humble, Matthew.” You smile at his effortless charm, his easy personality. That’s all you seem to be doing nowadays. Matt is like your personal ray of sunshine.

“I’ll win her over,” he declares confidently, sitting upright. “Anything for my lady.”

You roll your eyes. “How very Daemon of you.”

“Actually,” he laughs, “Daemon would probably feed her to Caraxes for being difficult.”

“Matthew!”

“I’m kidding!”

Sansa meows even louder, bounding away towards your bedroom.

“Leave my Sansa alone,” you say, pointing at him accusingly.

He gives you a sly grin. “I will… if you come here and give me another kiss.”

Before you can respond, he slides your stool closer to his with a smooth movement, catching you off guard. You find yourself practically in his lap, his thighs pressing against yours as he waits, looking entirely too pleased with himself.

“Okay,” you sigh deeply, narrowing your eyes, unable to mask the smile that graces your lips. “One kiss, but only for Sansa.”

“Oh, shush and kiss me already, love.”

The film screening had been a private event, by invitation only from those who worked on the film. Edward Bluemel, Matt’s good friend, is a fellow actor marking his directorial debut with this film. For a first go, it was impressive, gripping from start to finish. Almost as much as Matt’s hand resting just above your knee, his thumb absentmindedly tracing soft circles into your skin.

Your cheeks had flushed when a particularly steamy scene came on the screen, and it might have been the nervous gremlins in your mind, but you swore Matt’s hand inched higher up your leg.

Now, on your couch, his hand is even higher. He hovers over you, his breath heavy and uneven as his fingers tease at the warmth between your thighs, so close to where you’re already aching for him.

Maybe it was all the dirty martinis you drank at the open bar after the screening, or maybe this was a long time coming. Either way, you want him, and from the way his lips move urgently against yours, he wants you too.

It dawns on you that the tension is no longer something you can talk yourself out of.

He pulls away, and you protest with a mewling whine, your body arching into him. He nearly growls in frustration, the unspeakable sound you just made having a direct line to his hardened cock. With a gentle tug at the nape of his neck, you pull him back down to your lips, but he resists.

“We have to slow down,” he chuckles mirthlessly. “Because we’re about to cross a line that I won’t be able to hold back from, love.”

“Matt – ”

“I understand – ” He licks his lips, letting out a slow and controlled breath. “ – that you want to wait – ”

Your confession comes out slow and measured, letting him know that this is what you really want. “Maybe I don’t want… to wait anymore.”

“Say that again,” he says slowly, his eyes darkening in lust.

“Maybe I… I want you to fuck me.”

“Maybe?” he whispers, his voice rough, practically pleading.

“Oh, just fuck me.”

That’s all it takes for him to snap.

He undresses you in record time, ripping off every item of clothing from your body with an eagerness that betrays just how hungry he is for you.

Neither of you even bother to travel to your bedroom. At some point, your entwined naked bodies slip off the couch and onto your plush carpet.

And you have a heated… What was it called again?

Oh right – a damn good roll in the hay.

The water is still warm in your deep clawfoot tub, steam rising gently from the surface. You lean back, head resting against the porcelain, that blissful post-sex daze settling over you.

Matt slides into the water opposite you, his movements slow, deliberate. His eyes haven’t left you since he stepped in, and you can feel the weight of his gaze lingering on your skin. It isn’t just the remnants of your earlier intimacy – though that heat still hummed in the air between you – it’s something more. Something you can’t name and maybe you’re afraid to, but it tugs at you all the same.

A small smile plays on his lips, the kind that made your chest tighten – half teasing, half dangerous.

“Enjoying yourself?” he asks, voice low and smooth.

You exhale a soft laugh, running your fingers lazily through the water, trailing small ripples across the surface. “I’m not exactly complaining, am I?”

“Good. Wouldn’t want you to have second thoughts.” His tone is light, but the undercurrent of meaning isn’t lost on you.

You close your eyes, letting the warm water soothe your tired muscles, but even with the comfort of the bath, you can’t quite escape the one person lingering in the back of your mind.

Matt isn’t Ewan, but he’s here, his presence steady, his charm disarming. He makes you laugh, makes you feel wanted in ways that are simple and uncomplicated, and maybe that’s what you need right now. Maybe it was okay to let yourself enjoy this, to live in this moment without overthinking what it meant.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Matt asks, leaning forward.

You open your eyes, catching the glint of amusement in his. “Just... thinking.”

“Dangerous territory,” he teases, reaching for your hand.

“Hmm, maybe,” you murmur, meeting his gaze. “You’re too charming for your own good, you know that?”

He chuckles deeply. “I’ve been told. But I like to think it’s part of my appeal.”

You roll your eyes, though you can’t help the smile tugging at your lips. “Cocky bastard.”

He grins, leaning in even closer, his breath warm against your cheek. “Takes one to know one.” His hand travels to your leg underneath the water, massaging gently.

“I’m serious, though,” he says softly, his voice taking on a more earnest tone. “I don’t want you overthinking this. We’re good, yeah?”

You nod, but there is a flicker of something else in your chest. Guilt, maybe? But Matt is right here, and he isn’t asking for anything more than what you could give, and for now, that is more than enough.

“We’re good,” you whisper, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his lips.

He smiles against your mouth, his hand moving to cup the back of your neck, pulling you in closer. “Good,” he whispers back, his voice a low rumble that sends a shiver down your spine. “Because I’m not done with you yet.”

You laugh, the sound muffled as he kisses you again and positions you on top of him. You shuffle forward and discover a very obvious indication that he’s ready for round two of rolling in the hay. Or in the tub. Whatever works.

He looks absolutely enraptured when you ride him, your motions causing tremors in the water.

And in the sheer pleasure he gives you, surrounded by flickering candlelight and the smell of lavender, you allow yourself to let go.

The event has the industry buzzing - an exclusive event by Vanity Fair celebrating the rising stars of Hollywood. A masquerade party, the notion of which excited you to no end. You’d only read about such in books, in its medieval iterations, all poofy skirts and velvet waistcoats, the whole concept full of prestige and mystery.

You spent days prepping with your team, the anticipation building until it felt like a living thing inside you. Your dress, a beautiful piece from Atelier Versace, fits like a glove, one side made of draped black sequins shimmering like liquid night against your skin. The theme is Midnight Elysium, and you look every bit the part - dangerous and glamourous and untouchable.

Your makeup team did an impeccable job. Your eyeshadow resembles a swirling galaxy, a blend of silver and noir. Your lipstick is a perfect nude shade that matches your skin tone and your features.

But then there was the mask. The final, necessary touch. Delicate black lace that settles over your eyes, framed with gold filigree and flecks of silver – sharp and ethereal at once. It was a piece of art, something you personally commissioned from a local designer in your hometown.

In a room where everyone claims to know everyone, a mask can be more than just a costume piece. It can be a weapon – giving you the freedom to be both seen and unseen.

Stepping into the nightclub is like slipping in between worlds. Black velvet drapes line the walls, catching the glow of the minimal lighting – gold and silver chandeliers hanging like constellations. The bass from the music pulses underfoot, sending vibrations through your veins. Faces are obscured by extravagant masks, but you are able to recognise some of them if you look close enough. Milly is speaking to someone by the bar, and you remind yourself to pull her aside for a chat later. Timothee is introducing his date to a small flock of people. And Jacob is bounding right for you the moment you make eye contact.

“There’s my leading lady,” he greets cheerfully, swooping down to kiss you on both cheeks. He’s wearing a metallic silver vest and trousers, along with a white mask that covers one side of his face like The Phantom.

“Wow,” you say, making a show of appraising him, looking at all 6 foot 5 inches of his figure up and down. “You look like a handsome disco ball.”

He laughs, the sound unmistakable even in the bustling nightclub. “And look at you! What are you, a cyberpunk witch? A sleek dominatrix?”

“Careful now,” you warn him, “or I might just hex you into getting me a drink.”

“Coming right up,” he says, but his attention is pulled by someone calling his name. “Hold on a sec, I have to introduce you to some of my friends.” You let him lead you further into the room, and you’re swept into the rhythm of it all, moving through the crowd as if you belong – because you do. You’re slowly getting used to the weight of eyes on you, but tonight, it feels as if there’s a shadow you can’t quite shake.

Your personal shadow in a room full of masked shadows. Your skin prickles, an awareness blooming under your ribs. In all the fuss leading up to this event, you hadn’t really bothered to check the full roster of attendees.

After several rounds of conversation, you excuse yourself for a moment and stand off to the side to take a breather.

And then you see him.

Ewan stands across the room, a drink in hand, his black leather overcoat tailored to perfection. The mask he wears, a sharp cut of black and gold, adds a dangerous air to him. His effortlessly tousled hair sports a smattering of gold embellishments, like streaks of pale blonde hair. You take him in, every inch of him, that mischievous curve of his lips and the glint of his blue eyes underneath that mask.

It hits you like a tidal wave, like a fucking hurricane, the longing you’ve tried to suppress for weeks.

You shouldn’t want him this much, not when you both agreed to the break. To keep some distance. His fake romantic arrangement had made sure of that. And after everything, you knew that some separation was what you both needed.

But seeing him now, looking at you like he’s starving… it’s enough to unravel every careful thread you’d stitched together since you last touched. You want to look away, pretend that this is just another night, that he’s just another fellow actor among the crowd. But the pull is too strong. It’s as if your legs move on their own volition, and you slowly move through the crowd, almost subconsciously drawn to him.

He steps deeper into the shadows of the club as you approach, disappearing into one of the more secluded alcoves draped in heavy black velvet. No one will see you there. No one will know any better.

The world narrows down to just the two of you, and the music becomes a distant hum. It’s quieter, darker, and for all the trappings of the Hollywood elite, Ewan is far more intoxicating.

“You’re here,” you whisper, half in question, half in disbelief.

But he’s already moving towards you, his eyes dark and hungry behind the mask. The air between you crackles with an undeniable need – weeks of distance, of longing, building up to this moment. He’s close enough that you feel the warmth of his body through your dress, and you so badly want to forget that this is a bad idea.

“I can’t stay away,” he says, his voice low and raw, like it’s costing him to hold back. “Not tonight.”

You swallow, your heart pounding in your chest, every rational thought slipping away as his fingers skim the bare skin of your waist through the slits in your dress. “We… we can’t,” you manage to say, but even to your own ears, it sounds weak. Oh, who are you trying to fool?

“How can I not? Fuck, how can you look like that and expect me to just walk away?”

You want to say something, something sensible, something to remind him of the stakes. But nothing comes to mind, not when his hand brushes up your arm, raising goosebumps in its wake. His other hand slips to your waist, pulling you closer until there’s no space between you. He dips his head down, breathing against your shoulders and your neck, taking you in like a vice.

“Ewan,” you finally croak. “We agreed not to – ”

“I don’t bloody care,” he cuts you off, his mouth inches from yours. “We agreed to give it some time, sure, but I never agreed to stop wanting you. Besides, I make good on what’s asked of me. I play the part. I deserve to be rewarded, don’t I? And you’re the only prize I desire.”

His words hit you hard, melting any resistance you’d been clinging to.

“Oh? So… so I’m just a prize now?”

He only smiles. “The only one worth winning.”

Before you can think, before you can stop yourself, you pull him closer and crash your lips into his.

The kiss is hard, fierce, his mouth feverishly attacking yours. He tastes bittersweet, all hard bourbon and cigarettes. You’re certain that the lipstick your makeup artist painstakingly applied would be wiped clean off. His hands grip you harder, fingers digging into your flesh, pulling you closer, deeper, like he can’t get enough.

You break apart, gasping for breath. His lips are slick, shining in the occasional flicker of neon blue and red lights, his mask casting shadows across his sharp features.

A bright flash from the party's official photographer erupts in the corner, thankfully not pointed in your direction. Still, it momentarily shakes both of you back to reality.

“Come with me.” His hand slips into yours, fingers curling possessively as he pulls you away from the cacophony of the club. You barely have time to react before you’re being led down a narrow, dimly lit hallway. He pushes open a door, leading you into a smaller room bathed in that same cold, electric blue. Plush seating is arranged haphazardly in the corners, but the space is mostly empty. The low hum of the bass still thrums in the distance, but it’s reduced to a faint echo. The smell gives off cigarette smoke and spilled liquor.

“Smoking area,” he says with a half-smirk, glancing around the room as if seeing it for the first time himself. “I think.”

“You think?” You raise an eyebrow.

He shrugs, utterly unconcerned. “Who cares? It’s just us in here.”

You shoot him a look, glancing back at the door. “Someone could walk in.”

He chuckles, stepping closer, that familiar heat radiating off him like a furnace. “It’s a party, darling. They’re probably wasted out of their minds. And besides…” He taps the edge of his mask, his eyes glinting mischievously behind the black and gold. “The masks?”

You bite your lip, trying to maintain some semblance of control. “And if someone does walk in?” you ask, arching a brow. “What then?”

He steps closer, crowding into your space, the tension thick between you. “Then they get a show,” he says, his voice playful and teasing, but laced with something darker.

“Are you fucking serious?”

“You can still walk away, darling,” he offers, trying to bait you when he knows full well that he already has you hooked. “Or, you can just shut up and kiss me.”

So much for giving it time. Ewan’s lips find yours once more, just as desperate, and you barely notice when he directs you to the seating, your back colliding with its velvet exterior. His low groan sends a wave of heat pooling in your stomach, and you think to yourself, this was a terrible idea.

Your hands roam, finding the planes of his chest. He smoothly takes off his leather overcoat, revealing his bare torso underneath. The sight of it makes your head spin, and you croak unsteadily, “Ewan… not here, baby, we can’t – ”

“I know, darling,” he croons, his hand cradling your face. “I just wanna kiss you. I just want you… to touch me…” His other hand takes yours and drags it down the firm lines of his stomach, a desperate plea in his eyes. “Please, just – ”

The moment is abruptly shattered by the sound of giggling from the hallway, getting louder. Suddenly, the door opens and in stumbles a pair of girls, one of them you recognise to be Jenna.

“Oh!” The other girl exclaims, clearly delighted by the situation she’s just walked into. She pulls off her mask, revealing herself as Emma Myers. “We found him! We finally found your date.”

Your heart plummets, right down on the liquor stained carpet.

“Hi,” you manage to squeak, getting to your feet and smoothing down your dress which had ridden scandalously higher up your thighs. “I’m – ”

“Oh, I know who you are,” Jenna says, shaking your hand, not the least bit bothered by the state she found you and Ewan in. “I love your work. I’m Jenna.”

“Oh… thank you – ”

Emma steps in, grinning. “Hi! I’m Emma. I’m such a fan.”

“Oh my god, I should be saying that to you guys!” you blurt, feeling a rush of relief at their easy demeanour. “I love Wednesday.”

They both gasp, and soon the three of you are exchanging compliments like old friends, chatting about each other's work with enthusiasm. Ewan, still seated, watches the scene unfold with barely concealed frustration. He eventually stands, shrugging his leather coat back on, and glances at Jenna.

“One of our producers is here,” Jenna explains cheerfully. “She’d love to chat with both of us.”

Right. Ewan’s her date. The word echoes in your mind, but the jealousy you expected to feel is oddly muted now.

Ewan speaks, addressing only you, “Darling, will you – ”

“I’ve got her,” Emma declares, looping her arm around yours. “I’ve got so much I want to ask you!” Before you know it, she leads you out of the room like you’ve been best friends for years.

Ewan’s eyes stay on you, full of frustration and yearning, even as he and Jenna follow you out the door.

But you barely see him for the rest of the night.

The party is a blur of celebrities and conversations, but your mind keeps drifting back to that stolen moment in the blue-lit room. Eventually, your social battery runs out, and you slip out of the club early, unnoticed by most.

Back at your hotel, you peel off your dress and drop onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling as the events of the night replay in your head. The feeling of his hands on your skin, the heat of his body pressed against yours – it’s all too much.

Your phone buzzes on the nightstand, snapping you out of your thoughts. Ewan One-Eye flashes across the screen.

You hesitate, thumb hovering over the screen, but you pick up. His voice is low, almost cautious. “You left early.”

“I was tired,” you reply, voice soft. “The party was great but it was... a lot.” Mainly because of him.

A beat of silence follows, and you wonder if he's wrestling with what to say next. “Are you okay?” You can almost picture him running a hand through his hair, jaw clenched, eyes dark with worry.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” you say, unable to hide the tremble in your voice.

Another long pause, with only his slow breathing on the other end.

“I hate this,” he finally says, voice barely above a whisper, the raw emotion in his words hitting you like a punch to the gut. “I fucking hate that he gets to have you, and I don’t… and I can’t… ” He cuts himself off, and you hear the snap of his lighter followed by his sharp exhale.

You bite your lip, your throat tight with emotion. You’ve both been so careful, dancing around each other, pretending that you could stay apart.

“I’m flying back to London tomorrow night,” you blurt out, the words rushing out before you can stop them. It feels like a confession, like you’re admitting defeat.

“I need to see you before you go.”

“Ewan, we agreed – ”

“Fuck what we agreed!” His sudden outburst takes you by surprise, and you hear the raw need in his voice. “I don’t care about the arrangement, I don’t care about the distance. I just... I need you.”

You want to tell him that you need him too. You want to throw caution to the wind and agree to being together in secret despite the false romance he has to portray to the world. But you can’t.

“I...” Your voice falters. “We’ll see each other soon.” It doesn’t feel like enough. With a soft sigh, you add on a lighter note, “Alyna still has to kick Aemond’s ass, you know.”

A beat passes, and then you hear his tired laugh on the other end. “Right,” he chuckles softly, the sound both comforting and heartbreaking. “Wouldn’t want to keep the fans waiting for that.”

“Yeah, well,” you say, trying for casual, trying not to let your voice crack, “someone’s got to put Aemond in his place.”

“Hmm, well if that place happens to be right in Alyna’s arms, I doubt you’ll hear any complaints about the script from me this time.”

You can’t help but smile at his teasing, but it only deepens the ache in your heart.

“Ewan…” you begin, but the words hang in the air, unspoken.

“I know, darling,” he replies, his tone resigned yet gentle. “I miss you too.”

The training room is alive with the sounds of clashing swords and laughter, but you can’t help but feel a different kind of electricity buzzing in the air. Maybe it’s just the way Matt looks at you, as you rehearse a scene where Daemon helps Alyna brush up on her sword fighting.

You lunge forward, initiating the first move with confidence, and he counters effortlessly, the blades clashing in a symphony of steel. The practice moves are intense, each swing bringing you closer. His eyes darken with focus as he follows your movements, and for a moment, it becomes easy to forget the rest of the stunt crew in the room.

“Nice footwork,” Matt compliments, stepping in closer. His body brushes against yours, sending a rush of heat through you. Ever since your night together, he has only been more brazen with his affections. “But you’re leaving yourself open here.” He demonstrates, his sword brushing against your side as he adjusts your stance.

“There,” he says, his voice dropping lower, “feel that?” You swallow nervously, grateful that the stunt coordinator had moved on to Harry in the far side of the room.

“I think I might be too open,” you manage to say, trying to keep your tone light.

“Maybe,” Matt murmurs, stepping back slightly but keeping his gaze locked on yours. “But I can’t help but want to close the distance.”

As you move through the choreography, you both fall into a rhythm, and almost inevitably, the fight turns into something more playful. You circle each other, exchanging faux blows and laughter, the distracting banter causing the stunt director to approach and get you both back on track.

Next up, you have to train for Alyna’s pivotal scene where she attempts to mount Caraxes as per Daemon’s command.

As you practice the mounting technique on the mechanical dragon, you’re hyper-aware of every movement. The crew watches closely, ready to offer guidance. You grip the handles tightly, adrenaline coursing through your veins, and for a brief moment, you lose yourself in the character, feeling the thrill of the scene.

But then it happens. The Buck jolts unexpectedly, throwing you off balance. Time seems to slow as you feel yourself slipping. You try to brace for impact, but it’s too late. You land hard, the pain shooting through your ankle as it twists at an unnatural angle.

There is a stinging sensation too, by the side of your head, and all you think is – oh fuck. The world around you fades to a blur, just as chaos erupts.

When you finally regain consciousness, the sterile scent of antiseptic fills your nostrils. Your surroundings come into focus slowly, and your heart races when you realise you’re in a hospital room. The steady beep of a monitor is the only sound, punctuated by the faint rustle of fabric.

You feel his hand on yours before your eyes even land on his figure, slumped on a chair beside your bed. His head rests on his shoulder, his grip still lightly holding your hand. His brow is furrowed in worry, even in sleep.

You feel lightheaded, and for a moment you worry that your concussion might be worse than it is, but no. It's just him.

Then, the sound of your movement catches his attention. He stirs, his eyes fluttering open, and when he meets your gaze, relief instantly washes over his features.

“Love… you’re awake.”

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Some notes in the margins...

Well, well, well. Yous were convinced that Matty would get the clubbing scene, helped by the red herring of his dancing video. Alas!

Is that Matty at the end there? Or a certain Mitchelly man? Hmm... one wonders. 💖

Complaints? Refund requests? Please direct your thoughts in the comments section below. I can 100% guarantee a satisfying solution. Or 70%.

Or, you know, bugger it. We're all in this together, better or worse ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

#ewan mitchell #ewan mitchell imagine #ewan mitchell x reader #ewan mitchell fanfiction #matt smith #matt smith x reader #chemical override #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #house of the dragon #hotd

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my-castles-crumbling · 7 months ago

Text

A Soft Launch

@jaynaverse, here's your request!

It was all over social media: James Potter: Single or Taken? The debate continues!

The argument had been going on for months.

The picture that started it all? Two shadows, holding hands.

The internet had gone insane, with thousands of comments arguing over the context. Some swore it was James holding hands with his best friend and bandmate Sirius. It wouldn't have been the first time they posted a jokingly flirty picture. Others swore neither shadow was James- it was actually Sirius and Remus. Which made sense, as the two were dating. But those with maths degrees and too much time on their hands figured out that the taller shadow definitely was James (something about the angle of the sun and the shadow and James's height) but the other shadow was too tall to be Sirius.

Eventually, the hype might have slowed down, if the pictures didn't keep coming:

Two pairs of shoes: one, James's signature red converse. The other, black converse. It took weeks of people calculating sizes and likely size-to-height ratios for that one to die down.

Two hands holding each other: one clearly James's skin tone, while the other was startlingly white with painted fingernails. Of course, people were immediately trying to reverse-image search the rings on the mystery hand. But nothing was found.

A selfies with just the smallest amount of someone's head peeking up from the bottom: black curls sneaking into the frame. That one almost broke the internet.

But it was the picture that James posted most recently that had everyone speculating more than ever: the leo constellation, with the caption, "Stargazing <3." One of the stars had been turned into a heart.

The comments rolled in faster than James could read them, as he stayed curled up on the couch.

"I think they're going to actually break Instagram this time," he murmured, leaning down to kiss Regulus's dark curls. "Do you suppose it's time to tell everyone?"

Regulus's startled look was enough to answer that question. "And ruin the fun?" he pouted, his beautiful lips making James melt instantly.

"Never," James grinned, kissing the pout away.

"I suppose we can be a bit more obvious, though," Regulus grinned, grabbing James's phone.

A few minutes later, thousands of phones lit up as an image of Regulus curled into James's lap, his face hidden in his shoulder, James kissing his head, was posted. The caption, "My favourite star 🌟" had been written by Regulus himself.

And the comments started rolling in again.

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1onelypoet · 10 months ago

Text

sweet tooth (for you) pt2 || lando norris smau

a/n: part 2 is doneeeee! thank u guys for all the reblogs n likes n comments, i love u all sm ❤️ it literally makes my day omg. anyways, idk if i'm losing it but this part feels shorter than part1 but who knows. also it does sorta jump around a bit in time so if ur confused abt the timeline n stuff hopefully the dates will help? 😭 part 3 will (hopefully) come before valentines day -- also i might do a vday special or smth idk -- but i'm trying for sooner 💪 i did not mean to write this much lol but anyways have an amazing day/night ❤️❤️

pairing: lando norris x singer! ex-leclerc! reader

fc: reneé rapp

warnings: cursing

taglist: @drunkinthemiddleoftheday @kapsylia, @i-wish-this-was-me

disclaimer: this is completely fictional. no hate meant towards anyone mentioned.

part one, part three, part four

charles_leclerc August 24

liked by scuderiaferrari, manonsworld, pierregasly and others

tagged arthur_leclerc, leclerc_pascale, joris__trouche, hugomicallef, riccardoberetta, guizou02, nico_noaro, thomascretot, traininginexcellencemc

charles_leclerc Fun times 🙃

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arthur_leclerc ❤️

user1 weird way to propose but okay!

user2 honey he's gonna cheat on u three years in 😔 ↳ user3 with ur friend too...

joris__trouche Con i ragazzi 🔥 trans: With the boys

user4 glad your summer break was fun 💕

user5 ummmm... anyways stream tummy hurts by y/n!

yourusername August 24

liked by leclerc_pascale, lilymhe, danielricciardo and others

tagged sethmyers

yourusername thanks for having me :)

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leclerc_pascale Belle ❤️

yourusername merci ❤️

user6 post break up glow is real

lilymhe cutie

yourusername no u ↳ lilymhe no, no u

yourbff mother.

user7 he fumbled a baddie fr 🔥🔥

f1gossip August 25

liked by manonsworld, user8, f1gossipgirl and others

tagged manonsworld, mlnmarta

f1gossip Manon spotted in the paddock today

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manonsworld ❤️❤️

user8 NAHHHH

user9 this is not the serve you think it is, babe...

user10 the dress 😍😍

user11 y/n did it better.

user12 she's really wasting no time

user13 no fr just popped out of nowhere

user14 who's that next to her?

user15 marta, the wife one one of charles's friends ↳ user14 ahhh okay ty

yourusername added to their story August 25

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f1gossipgirl August 25

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f1gossipgirl Charles and his girlfriend, Manon, were allegedly spotted by the paparazzi in Corsica on August 7th and 12th. However, some fans noticed that the photos taken on the 12th had a resemblance to a photo featured in Charles' annual summer break photo dump on Instagram.

Most, if not all, of the photos on Instagram were taken by Antoine Truchet (Charles' friend and a professional photographer who has shot with Charles many times in the past). We this as on August 21, Antoine posted a series of photos, with a caption saying "corsica with CL". Some of the photos posted here were also posted on Charles' Instagram, further confirming Antoine's presence on this trip. It can also be assumed Antoine took most, if not all, of these photos as he is not actually featured in any of the pictures, which is strange as he is quite close with Charles and his friends. This all makes sense when you assume that Antoine was the one taking all the photos. Also, the photos are clearly taken by a professional.

So now we've established that Antoine, a professional photographer, was there in Corsica, and he likely took all of the photos posted by Charles.

Going back to the photo that sparked recognition, it can be seen that in the picture Charles is wearing a white button-down shirt, and is sitting on a green-and-white striped beach chair. Similarly, in the photos taken by the paparazzi on the 12th (not the ones in the water, but the ones sitting in the chair with Manon), Charles is seen wearing a white button-down as he sits in a green-and-white striped beach chair. These photos were taken on the same day.

All of this has brought fans to speculate that Charles was the one who notified the paparazzi of his presence, which would explain how the photos were even taken (the paparazzi are good, but are they that good..?). It would seem that Charles decided to have a little "photoshoot" and, as his summer break is probably busy, he wanted to get it done in one day. Expose the new girlfriend and take quality pictures for fans!

Many are still confused in regards to the reasoning behind him tipping off the paparazzi and exposing his infidelity.

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user17 lol why can't it be a coincidence

user18 THISSS!!! not everything is a conspiracy!!! ↳ f1gossipgirl this is a gossip channel babes... it's what we do...

user19 why would he even do this?

user20 celebs do weird shit all the time 🤷‍♀️

user21 it could've been for PR? ↳ user22 I mean it's not like Charles/Ferrari is lacking attention ↳ user21 that's true

user23 im so confused why does antoine being there mean he called the paps?? 😭😭

f1gossipgirl it's just weird that his photographer was there the day he gets papped. and we've seen this happen before (*cough* Becky and Carlos *cough*)

yourusername August 31

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yourusername music video for pretty girls out sep 5th 0:00 CET

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yourbff try not to say mother challenge (IMPOSSIBLE)

yourusername marry me. ↳ yourbff bet.

spotify we're ready 🥴

caradelevingne ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

user24 damn we're being fed WELL

scarlett it was great working with you ☺️

yourusername tysm scar!!! i loved working w u too 🫶

yourusername September 5

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tagged caradelevingne, scarlett

yourusername out now ;)

huge thank u to everyone who made this possible 🩷

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user25 I love women so much

rachelzegler oh u ate that up

landonorris slay 😋

user26 HELP LANDO WHAT ↳ user27 slay 😋

instagram she's an icon, she's a legend, and she IS the moment!!!!

user28 now come on now!!!

landonorris September 17

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landonorris Carlando podium let's gooooo

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yourusername ate

user29 I agree!!

mclaren What a weekend 🔥🔥

team_quadrant LFGGGGGG

oscarpiastri 🏆🙌

user30 oscar using emojis is my roman empire

user31 SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP

September 20

yourusername added to their story September 24

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y/nupdates September 25

liked by f1gossip, user32, user33 and others

tagged yourusername

y/nupdates Y/n with a fan at the Suzuka Circuit yesterday

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user34 STOP SHES SO GORGEOUS

user35 nah imagine going to a gp AND seeing y/n. I would die.

user36 ok but going to the gp is such a girlboss move

user37 LITERALLY

user38 she's out here winning the idgaf war

user39 do we know if she saw Charles there?

user40 i don't think so

October 11

#f1 #f1 smau #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 social media au #smau #lando norris #lando x reader #lando norris social media au #lando norris smau #ln4 x reader

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vigilskeep · 6 months ago

Note

Any guesses on the Veilguard companions?

some suggestions i think are worth placing bets on

an antivan crow (the concept art and short story presence PLUS what’s been said about each companion representing “iconic factions”, i think this is a dead certainty). natural choice for a rogue, but the concept of crow mages has been being set up in the novels for a while

again judging by concept art presence, a nevarran mortalitasi necromancer OR a nevarran possessed skeleton type as our friendly spirit companion

a grey warden, probably from the anderfels/weisshaupt itself. always has been one and there is no faction more iconic, right? i believe there’s ancient voice acting snippets suggesting it’s some guy called davrin

considering the collective way that concept art captions, absolution, and apparently three separate stories from tevinter nights were like “hey did you know the LORDS OF FORTUNE are a thing? the lords of fortune from RIVAIN”, one of these. my guess is that they thought about going felicisima armada for a rivaini companion but didn’t want to just rehash isabela’s pirate gimmick so they made something up and they’ve been trying to set it up really hard

i’ve seen people suggest scout harding is being pushed forward for the role and i guess the inquisition is an iconic faction now?

otherwise, couldn’t really say for a dwarven companion. iconic factions might include the legion of the dead, the carta... the tevinter ambassadoria is a bit more niche but would make sense for a northern companion. i could also see them simply making one of the other suggestions a dwarf, the grey warden is definitely a strong contender since it’s always been a human man and it’d be nice to mix it up

speculatively, i’d like to see a templar. you can’t deny it’s an iconic faction. either a southern templar trying to take up a new cause after everything crashed and burned or a vint templar with a completely new perspective to what we’re used to would be a lot of fun. i would actually love to play this character if it’s not a companion lmao

another obvious faction is the dalish. it’s been a while since we had one, we’ve never had a non-mage dalish companion so there’s a lot of room for a fresh approach, they’re so plot relevant right now. someone’s got to give us that good good exposition! and i am so sick of it not being the dalish themselves 😭

i would be very surprised if there’s no qunari or tal-vashoth. i don’t have many strong ideas, i would just expect it to be a rogue or a mage, since warriors are all we’ve had

all that obviously tallies up to more than seven so we have to pick and choose—and i’m sure there’s plenty of surprises i haven’t thought of—but those would be my instincts! i’ve been thinking about this for a while haha. i’d be excited for any of these, just please, please hand over the romanceable dwarf. i know you’ve got them bioware

#how are we tagging this game.#dav

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iznsfw · 1 year ago

Text

The Devil's Telephone

IVE's An Yujin x Male Reader Smut

6969 words

Categories | model!Yujin x photojournalist!you, rough sex

Barely edited. Who cares, I did great.

"Is it true? What they say about you?"

You're nervous, fidgeting in the king-sized bed with your arm leaning against the mattress. It feels odd to be in a rich and attractive girl's place without being naked. Not that it's something you've experienced before anyway, but it's like breaking an unspoken law everyone but you was oriented to. But you have your manners, and so does she. Supposedly.

She's still beside you, her expensive clothes hiding not her shapely form. And to think it looks beautiful without the need for oil painting all around it or nakedness. That pretty smile, that also intimidates you a little, is the cherry on top of the cake that is An Yujin.

Speaking of, there's one right now between her lips. She's toying with its strand of a twig, tracing the cherry she got from the bowl beside her bed along the pink hills of her luscious mouth.

"After everything I did," Yujin says, "what do you think?"

"I don't really…" Struggle to find your words. "I, I don't really dwell on—"

"If I'm a slut or not?" Yujin finishes for you, smiling teasingly.

This conversation's a mistake, now that she's using words about a subject you tried to tread on lightly. "Look, I'm not trying to be rude or anything, I'm sorry."

"No offense taken. I get it."

Yujin lifts herself off her comfortable lounge position on her bed and instead sits on the backsides of her legs. Her hands are on your lap rather than her own. Should've been a sign for you that this is going nowhere but in a downward spiral.

"You want to know if the rumors are true? If nepo model An Yujin's really a slut, like they all say?"

"Uh… sure?"

Yujin gestures her chin to your crotch. "Whip out your dick. Then you'll see."

"You've got to be fucking kidding me."

"I'm not," says Gaeul. "Say that one more time and your career's over. No going back."

The small smile that's an everyday accessory to her features is gone. That tells you that what she says is what there is to her statement. What you hear is what you get. There's no underlying tone to it; she's completely serious, and besides, when has Gaeul ever lied?

Wring the looped lace of your camera over your head and place it and the device that can make or break your career on her desk. "Nope," you say. "I'm not doing it."

"You will," Gaeul says. "Nobody else will do it."

"Can't you get Jiwon to show up there?" It's worth a try, right?

"Like I said, no chance. Rei's with her on vacation. And Yunjin is out of the question."

"God fucking dammit."

Looks like this day can actually get worse. First, you miss the taxi going to the studio, ending up being about an hour late to your meeting. And then the nervous intern almost spilled coffee all over your camera. Luckily, the scalding liquid only ended up mostly on your pressed shirt. It's like the day is toying with your feelings, trying to see how far you can get without breaking down.

Your eye twitches. The day might see your breaking point after all.

"Gaeul," you say, "I'm a photojournalist, not a fucking Seattle professional."

"And so are a quarter of the people who go to the fashion week," she counters. Gaeul exhales through her nostrils, then leans forward on her desk, hands folded. "All you have to do is stand in for Chaewon and take the photos for each model. Don't worry about the caption."

"How'll I know what they're wearing?"

"I can do that for you. I'm quite the fashion enthusiast, if I do say so myself."

You don't see the sense in it, like, at all. "Then why don't you go take the photos?"

"Because I don't want to, newbie," replies Gaeul simply. She swings her legs over the table and places her palms behind her neck. "You can sit here all day whining about I'm-a-photojourn-this and I-can't-do-it-that, but you're still going to go through."

Gaeul's a rather straightforward girl, yet she can still make her blunt words sound frightening. You have to show that you can hold your own, too, and that you're not going to back up. Ever.

"And why do you think I'll give in so easily?" you challenge.

She smiles. "Because An Yujin's going to be there, and unless you live under a fucking rock, you'd know she's the main attraction."

You aren't dumb. Of course you know her. It’s impossible not to know of her when the magazines all scream her name and the camera flashes crave her presence. It’s hard to navigate life without at least seeing a Yujin standee for one of the brands she sponsors or her face on soju labels. She’s become a household name that, even if you somehow wished it to be the other way, she's become an inescapable force in every Korean’s life. That’s just how it works. It’s been like that for as long as you remember.

She rose up in the industry at a young age. Being her age, you can remember the buzz she creates among your classmates, from head-over-heels, hopeless romantic boys and adoring girls (and a few girls who'd die to be able to touch her, too.) She's on their phone wallpapers, in another cutesie pose, and on the photocards in the back of clear cases. She's here, she's there, she's everything everywhere.

You're familiar with her, but nothing about her except the usual: she's a model, she's an idol, she's a—

Ah, how should it go?

The girl beside you at the event, who's rather tall and if circumstances were different should be on the runway herself, tells you it goes like this: "She's an international free-use backstabbing slut."

Well, you didn't expect Kazuha to say that so easily (she told you her name earlier just so you had something to call her during the mandatory small talk), but you know what she's talking about. However, you have no right to say Yujin's a slut when you're dressed… well, dressed like this. Your whole outfit is an embarrassing array of rainbow colors. Even your tie's pulled into passiveness by the colorful dress code. If this is what those high fashion enthusiasts call "fashion," you're glad you're not a part of them. You'll be glad to keep shopping at your local thrift store.

Hence, "I wouldn't put it that way," you say.

Kazuha smirks. "How would you say it?" she asks.

Why is she so interested in what you think about her? You suspect Kazuha's one of those girls who's rather jealous of the stick-figure models strutting the runway but would deny it with all her soul. Maybe that's it. She's jealous that she sits there in the audience while perfection after perfection makes themselves known to the public.

"She's…" You snap a pic of another eighty-pound model walking down the runway. "Uh, promiscuous. That's all."

Kazuha grins. She purses her lips and writes down on her notepad, probably intending to use your statement as a headline pun. "Maybe we should switch jobs," she says. "You can be the devil's advocate journalist, and I can be the white knight photographer."

Exhale loudly. For fuck's sake, you want to tell her, I'm only here to do the job I didn't want in the first place. Why has she chosen you to play with to fulfill her boredom? Whatever game she's set, you're not joining.

"Look, what is it about Yujin that you hate?" you ask.

"She fucked Jang Wonyoung, those MCs she used to partner up with, that actress from the period drama who was on Produce, too… everybody."

"Okay." You look at her pointedly. "Source?"

Kazuha gestures a rude index to the runway. "Look at her. Look at her and tell me she isn't a slut. I dare you."

You look up from the lens of your camera for once, and as much as you'd like to come to Yujin’s defense, seeing as there’s no evidence to all those allegations and being a public figure with all the criticism must be the deepest ring of hell, you see what Kazuha means.

You hate to say it, and you’d love to pass no judgment, but the prodding journalist is right. Yujin isn't skin and bones like the other models, nor does she wear light makeup. However, her confident gaze that not once settles on the floor immediately makes you think, wow, now that is a model. She only looks forward, stepping onto the smooth floor in heels that make her much taller than she already is. Her eyes are lined with this sharp, blaring dark that makes her brown contacts stand out and makes her look like a black cat. So much for Jiwon’s nickname.

But that isn’t all. It’s far from done, because it’s not Yujin’s arrogant smile that drips of sultriness that confirms Kazuha's allegations for you, nor is it her makeup. It’s what she’s wearing. Her chest nearly spills out of the oddly-cut neckline of her blouse, and it’s see-through, meaning that even if her busty figure is in some way contained by the clothing, you can still see everything. For example, her tummy lined with her abs and a small tattoo (barely noticeable, but enough to cause a few tabloids to freak out); her wide hips, and of course; the bare flesh of her breasts. The fabric tape does nothing to hide them when her brown nipples beg to be seen through the fabric. Each bounce coerced by her confident strut is out there for all to see, and so are the jiggles of her full thighs.

Which part of everything do you have to immortalize in a photograph? You don’t know. You just keep taking pictures. There’s plenty enough to create a video of her walk without actually having to record one.

Seeing your dropped jaw, Kazuha grins satisfactorily. “Told you,” she says.

You aren’t done looking, though. As the press and audience scream her name, (they all know her name—she’s bagged so many brand deals, shot more than enough magazine covers, and performed songs you couldn’t count on two hands just so that any type of audience can recognize her), Yujin steps up to the end of the catwalk. She smiles at all the attention, setting a hand on her waist before blowing several kisses to the audience.

And, of course, she finishes off her umpteenth walk with another scandal:

Shredding her blouse into pieces. Yujin rips it clean from the seams, letting the lost dangle of fabric finally reveal the whole of her chest. Her skimpy shorts are the only thing remaining complete on herself.

The viewers gasp, and you do, too. But you're hypocrites, the lot of you, for you remain interested in scanning every bit of her enviable body. Secretly, you all know that some part of you were looking there even before her blouse ripped.

You haven’t seen a model do that before, but then again, she’s not just a model. She’s plenty of things: a singer, an idol, an ambassador—

A slut. A full-on, shameless, lives-up-to-her-name slut.

“So.”

“So,” you say, resentfully. Your camera’s in your bag, and Gaeul is on the phone with you. You’re proceeding out of the vicinity like everybody else. It's eight p.m.; someone’s bound to be hungry at this hour, and that someone is you.

You can hear the giggle in her voice as she asks you, “What do you think?”

“What do I think?” you say, flabbergasted. Zip up your satchel bag and walk through the rain. “Gaeul, the girl just ripped her shirt off in front of everyone! This isn’t what I signed up for!”

What should you get tonight? Minute Burger? Maybe McDonald’s or some sushi? You’d take anything—you’re pretty hungry after the long show. If this is how hunger hits after shows, you’re glad you don’t have to go through the whole fashion week. By Saturday, you’d be as dead as everyone was after the stunt Yujin pulled.

“I thought you knew about her, newbie,” replies Gaeul. She’s clearly poking fun at your reaction. What’s also clear is the obvious fact that she picked you out for this job just to see how you’d handle it. Would you go crazy? Treat Yujin as a Victorian man who’d just seen a lady’s ankles would? Oh, she’d love to find out.

“I didn’t know she was…"

"Yeah?"

"B-bold.”

“Oh, please be normal about it. You’re a photojournalist. You handled the dead guy who was stabbed alright, but a woman showing her tits is where you cross the line?”

“It’s not that,” you say tiredly. Your stomach is really growling now. “I guess… I think…”

"Hey."

Your phone drops to the wet cement road. Like a haunting phantom, Yujin appears out of nowhere. It's like she suddenly materialized from the fog of the storm.

You don't know where to look. Yujin's still dressed, (somewhat), in her ruined blouse. The thing is even more transparent as the rain beats down on it. Still, she looks perfect. She is perfect. You know that without having to be a fan of her.

The light from a camera hidden in a beaten bush makes you flinch. If the crouched man in black taking photos of Yujin isn't there, you'd have accepted your fate to get struck by lightning. Yujin raises her eyebrows questioningly, and you're forced to compose yourself once more.

"Uh, hi," you stammer. Bend down to pick your sodden phone up. Darn it, it's dead. How will you contact Gaeul now?

"You're one of the photographers, right?" asks Yujin. Unlike you, she doesn't care that your phone has met its end, or mind that her boobs are out in the open.

You mutter something of agreement, but you're still tinkering with your phone. The battery's probably broken, which's a pity when your late mother gifted it to you on the last birthday you had together.

"Damn, must be nice to snap photos of a half-naked chick, huh? You liked seeing me up there?"

That makes you stop fiddling with your destroyed gadget. "I," you say, cornered into confession but still trying to gather a burst of energy to escape, "I'm not—"

"An Yujin," she says, as if the whole world doesn't scream her name. As if she were just another girl out there who's a little too friendly. She doesn't offer her hand; she grasps yours and shakes it firmly.

You have no other choice but to be acquainted with her there and then. You tell her your name, albeit nervously, as you slip your phone into your pocket. What is she planning? Why is she out here with you?

Yujin grins. "Nice to meet you. Want to come to a party at my house? Starts when we get there."

Now you understand what she's planning. What else would you expect from her?

First things first, though: where should you look? Her chest is a dangerous option. To look or not to look? That is the question—you choose the second option. Note the dim stars in the foggy sky. Look down at the road blotted with raindrops. Remark inwardly about the state of your shoes and how they're too expensive to be dragged through a weather like this.

Second, should you go? Gaeul would be looking for you. She'd want the pics immediately so she could put them in the magazine and on your company blog site. But you haven't had fun in years, and for a girl with the wealth and status of Yujin, it might be a new beginning.

Work, however, comes first.

"I'm sorry," you tell her. You really are. Yujin seems like a fun girl outside of her wildness. "I don't think I—"

"Great! Come on, I'll drive you!"

That's how you end up in a limousine for the first time in your life and learn that An Yujin doesn't take no for an answer.

The seats are dark and soft, and there's two long aisles of it for thirty pax max to occupy. However, despite the spaciousness, Yujin still chooses to sit snugly beside you. Should you feel flattered? Intimidated? You struggle to choose for this question.

You wonder where you're headed. The infamous Jang Hills where celebrities like singer Son Seungwan and model and humanitarian Jang Wonyoung, who owns the place, reside? The rain is too strong for you to be able to see where the vehicle's headed, but you suspect that's the destination. There's no other.

"So," says Yujin. She's still sitting comfortably beside you. Her smile dimples her cheeks, and it just doesn't match the boldness of her ripped blouse. When she wears that smile, she looks like a girl who's too cheerful and innocent to be… the way she is. "Would I have to pay you to see my photos?"

"For god's sake, Miss An, put on some clothes before you scare the guy," chuckles the driver, shaking his head. He's a tall, dark man with the typical shades and a rosary on his rearview mirror. You wonder if he prays for Yujin sometimes.

"But that's no fun," she says, the pout on her face growing wider when her driver tosses her a black fur coat (that still reminds you of her when you note how the chest part is gone) and sleeveless innerwear. Seems like he keeps clothes in his car for situations like these. "Clothes are so big and boring, you know. Totally outdated.

"Anyway, about the photos…?"

"Oh, you don't have to pay," you tell her. But you know that money isn't a problem with Yujin—she can buy you and your whole life if she chose to.

"Gimme then." She makes grabby hands, and your camera eventually ends up in them. Her eyes sparkle with narcissistic adoration. "Oh damn, I look hot. Delete this, though. Bad angle."

"I– okay."

"My tits look amazing, don't you think? Come on, say my tits look fantastic."

"Ms. An," says the driver firmly, albeit his tone holds some of the amusement in it still. "Put on some clothes."

Yujin rolls her eyes, but she does. And you watch as she strips, painfully slow. She pulls the soaked blouse above her wet body, showing her bare, beautiful arms and pits. Even her soft midriff is perfect. And, try as you may (must), you can't stop looking. Several snaps and pinches would be too weak to pull you back into reality, because there's the goddess that she is to look at. You figure out now why your former classmates were and still are obsessed with her. She may be a wild little thing, but she's got an amazing body, an amazing fashion sense. Everything about her, even her boldness, is enviable. Desirable. Unreachable.

The clothes mold to her beautiful shape. The damp, slightly messy hair only adds to her beauty. You can feel yourself getting warm.

"We're here," says Yujin cheerfully, oblivious to the way your eyes are raking down her perfect body. "Here's your camera. Wouldn't want it to break like your phone. Pity."

Getting up to open the car door isn't part of a wealthy girl's everyday life. Yujin isn’t an exception—she has her driver to do that plus assist her out of the limo, and when he does, you're welcomed into a whole new world.

The rain has halted. Signs of its earlier presence, however, can be seen on the drops on the maze of bushes. There's statues of Eros, gray and mighty with his strong arms and arrows, perched on pedestals to the entrance of the mansion. Through the gate, you catch sight of a large pool, where heiresses and friends of Yujin laugh and swim. It's no land for lowlives. You are the exception, somehow.

"This… this is your house?"

"Yep!” She nods positively. “Daddy gave it to me after he died from a heart attack."

"My condolences," you say. As the guards open the gate to Yujin's mansion, you admire the place. It looks like a temple for cupids. Perhaps it’s Yujin they’re worshiping. "Did he have heart conditions before that?"

"No." She shakes her head then waves happily to one of her friends at the pool. "He just saw me wearing a bra over my crop top, and he dropped dead."

You snort. Yujin looks at you weirdly. That's how you realize she isn't kidding.

"You're serious?"

She opens her mouth to say something, but forgets it. It's a long story that doesn't need more sequels.

Just the second drink of the night and you’ve met more celebrities than an average person would see personally in their whole life. As the dazzling disco ball shimmers rainbow colors all over the place, you catch sight of more than plenty of pretty and handsome faces. Over there is Jang Wonyoung, one of the models who walked earlier, and Miyawaki Sakura, a famous CEO of more beauty lines than you can count on ten fingers. Whether their beauties are handcrafted or God-given, they all have something in common: they’re all A-listers—they’re relevant, popular, used to this wild lifestyle. Camera flashes have trained them not to flinch at the gliding lights. This is an everyday routine in their book.

However, you’re used to being behind the camera, not in front of it. You’re overstimulated by the sea of laughing, moving bodies and the loud music. While Yujin happily screams and downs several shots, you stand idly beside her, dizzy and tired.

“I don’t think I can handle more.”

“Past your bedtime?” asks Yujin, grinning. She waves at Wonyoung and points at you, mouthing something to her, to which the model winks in response. You wonder what kind of exchange the two models had that granted an unusually smug look on Wonyoung’s face. You’re certain it’s about you, but you don’t know what it’s about. You’re not even sure if you want to discover it.

“It’s not that,” you say embarrassedly. “I’m… I’m not a party person. I get lightheaded easily.”

“Wanna take a break? Go to my room?”

Now that’s a red flag. It doesn't even try to hide its true color; it waves proudly in front of you. You’re the bull who went straight for it.

Yujin’s bedroom is the size of your living room, with a large bed to match. Curtained pillars stand on each end while posters hang off the walls. You suppose that the people on them are the ones Yujin looks up to: IU, known as Lee Jieun whenever she ventures out of singing and into acting; Marilyn Monroe (no explanation needed), and a few other nameless models and actresses. A lot are old posters of seventies’ pornographic films. Lights frame the mirror on the dresser table.

“You’re a privileged girl, miss An,” you say. It’s the only way you can respectfully say that she’s kind of a spoiled brat. But maybe that’s your jealousy talking.

“I know, right?” replies Yujin, twirling around. “And please, call me Yujin. You can sit on the bed if you want to.”

Your mind toys with the idea of the posters on her wall debating if you’re the hundredth person to have come over or the thousandth. Nevertheless, you want to stay neutral; it’s none of your business anyway. So you take a seat on the edge of the softest mattress you’ve ever felt while Yujin does so, too. She kicks her boots off on the carpeted floor.

“Hey,” says Yujin, “want to play a game before you doze off?”

Just how many red flags does this girl have? “Er, sure.” You shrug. Maybe it’s just a game, nothing more, like she said.

“Since we barely know each other, let’s take turns asking each other questions. Dibs on the first question.

“I haven’t seen you in shows before. How did you end up there?”

A safe start. “One of my coworkers was sick,” you explain. “I had to fill in for her. My turn.”

“Hit me.”

“Did you take modeling classes?”

Yujin laughs as if it was the funniest thing she’s ever heard. “God, no,” she says. “Classes and workshops are scams. All I had to do was ask my daddy to ask for a spot for me.”

“Must be nice.”

“Right? Did you take classes for photography?”

“I took one of the scams, yeah,” you say, earning a giggle from Yujin. “I’m a journalist first. It’s all I know.”

Meaningful silence fills the air. You remain hooked on your sentence, realizing how true it is. Photojournalism is the only thing you’re good at. It’s sheltered you and brought you so many opportunities at the same time. You don’t know how to find other hobbies to make your forte when you’re stuck in its bubble, and its bubble only. Without your camera, you’re nothing. Without people like Yujin to take photos of, you’re nothing, too.

You suppose you should break the heavy silence. But you’re unsure if your question should be asked; it might trigger a violent response from her, although she’s been nothing but laid-back with you. And you don’t particularly want a rich girl to ruin your career. You’ve gone so far that the only direction to look at is forward.

But you must learn to take risks.

"Is it true? What they say about you?"

Speaking of, there's one right now between her lips. She's toying with its strand of a twig, tracing the cherry she got from the bowl beside her bed along the pink hills of her luscious mouth.

"After everything I did," Yujin says, "what do you think?"

"I don't really…" Struggle to find your words. "I, I don't really dwell on—"

"If I'm a slut or not?" Yujin finishes for you, smiling teasingly.

This conversation's a mistake, now that she's using words about a subject you tried to tread on lightly. "Look, I'm not trying to be rude or anything, I'm sorry."

"No offense taken. I get it."

"You want to know if the rumors are true? If nepo model An Yujin's really a slut, like they all say?"

"Uh… sure?"

Yujin gestures her chin to your crotch. "Whip out your dick. Then you'll see."

You’re flustered. Did Yujin—this tall, alluring model that’s got her whole life ahead of her yet nothing to lose, this irritatingly attractive Yujin—really say that to you? Or was it something lost in the swarms of shouts and music from outside of the room? Maybe you’ve misheard. Maybe you’ll keep playing safe tonight.

But those are just mere maybes with no connection at all to what’s about to happen.

“Can’t do it yourself, pretty boy? Let me help you.”

Yujin lifts your satchel bag from your shoulders. You find yourself raising your arms to help her. It’s like the what and tension in the air have infected you and made you into this heated, lustful character far from the real you, because if this were truly your own self, you’d say you had a career. You’d say this shouldn’t be happening. You’d leave the room instead of helping her unbuckle your belt. You’d do anything but this.

Perhaps she’s changed you.

Yujin slips a tongue along the path of her luscious lips at the sight of your bare thighs and cock. “Our friend here,” she says, “needs a little help from me, no?”

“Yujin…” you moan, and it’s humiliating, especially when barely anything sexual has happened yet. At least, anything sexually physical.

Luckily for you, she curls her fist around your dick and gives justification to your breathy sounds. Maybe the rumors about how she likes to get around are true; Yujin knows how to work her way with a cock. Her warm fingers jerk your flesh at just the right timing, letting the hardness build up before doing that too with the pace. She’s looking at you with this wild desire in her eyes that grows bigger when your erection does, too. Oh, and that smile—if looks could kill, An Yujin would already be arrested for your murder.

“Now that’s not so bad, is it?” she remarks. She spits on your cock. Her wet saliva coats your length with just enough to let her smooth palm slide along itself pleasurably. “You like this? Just wait until you feel my pussy. Or maybe my lips would do first? The higher ones, I mean.”

Yujin’s lips descend onto your shaft, welcoming it into an impossibly soft and wet heaven. Yujin’s little tongue flicks at your base gently, even daring to lick at a little part of your balls before working their way up. It deliciously slides upwards at your veins.

“Fuck, Yujin. Your mouth—fuck, it feels so good.”

“Mmm.” Yujin engages in an open-mouthed, sloppy kiss with your tip. “I know. I’d fuck me, too, if I could, but I have you to do that.”

“Right,” you say breathily, because she is. If she’s sucking your cock this well and her cheek’s painfully stimulating as your cockhead brushes it, how much better would her pussy be? You’re definitely fucking her, even if your experience in this is zero. Yes, that’s also right: you’re a virgin. Zero experience, no bitches.

But, if it means anything, it’s the other way around. It’s Yujin making you her bitch. She may be serving you with the lips and kisses of a good girl, but her eyes tell you that there’s more to it than you think. You’re hers, see, for this night, and that’s all you ever will be. You’re no photojournalist anymore—you’re Yujin’s one night stand, and that’s the only achievement people will ever remember to your name.

“These’re so fucking full,” murmurs Yujin as she admires your heavy balls. Sucking on them lightly before smiling up at you, she adds, “Make sure to blow all of it in my face, ‘kay? Promise me.”

“Think you can handle it, Yujin?” you ask, and it’s another embarrassing moment you’ll relive forever, for your cockiness will never get on the level she has. Your voice shakes too hard and your cock drips too much—it’s clear who owns who at this point.

“I’m a big girl.” Unfazed, she smiles. “I can handle myself.”

“Y-you sure?”

“Oh, don’t play hard to get it, baby,” Yujin coos. She pleases you with one hand and glides her fingers on your thigh with the other. It’s deadly. She’s deadly. “Let your guard down. It’s just me.”

“And you’ve said that to how many people?” you shoot back.

“More than you’re worth,” she quips. She winks at you. “Now cum for me.”

Ouch, but it doesn’t matter when her lips provide a great suction to cool the burn. It’s making your cock feel the heat instead, forming the tightness in your stomach more. Her hands massaging your thighs causes your sensitivity to reach an all-time high. Yujin’s covered your shaft in such an amountful that just one lick sends your toes curling. She licks, she sucks, she laps at your weak spots and delights in the upward push of your hips, but her hands keep your legs down. Can’t have her meal escaping. She wants all of your cum, and when Yujin wants (no, needs) something, she gets it. It’s how she’s navigated life, having everything her heart could ever want brought to her by whim. But if she has to work for your cum, then so be it. Either-which-way, she’s not giving up until she gets it.

She kisses your cock deeply, almost making your lips jealous. She sucks on each sensitive side and your dripping tip. What takes the cake, though, is how she downs the whole thing so suddenly, slipping itself inside her tight throat and letting you fuck it. Gasps can’t be contained by your pursed lips, and their cycle of repetition continues because of her. Because of Yujin, Yujin and her stupidly desirable mouth.

“Fuck,” you whine. When she hears that, she pulls away. Like rain, drops of semen make slick landings on her face. You keep expelling several shots of the thing she so desperately wants, and you realize that, even with your own pleasure being fulfilled, you’re still serving Yujin. You’re still giving her what she wants: your cum on her face. The fact that she’s playing with you remains stoic.

“Ah, this is the best.” Yujin licks her cumstained lips. “I could have swallowed it all like I did with these cherries here, but I can’t let it spoil the main course.”

“W-which is?” you inquire, still panting. Can you handle more?

You find out through Yujin taking off her black vest. Then, she slips out of her jean skirt. It hugs her lower figure so nicely that it nearly makes you mourn their departure, but you find a better thing to gawk at, and it’s Yujin’s ass and thighs. She may have dressed earlier, but the panties were off. She cares not for modesty, even outside of the modeling industry. It’s just not who she is.

For that, you’re glad. If Yujin were modest, you wouldn’t have had the chance to see her fat ass and shaven pussy up close. You wouldn’t get to see her sway her hips side to side, letting you see from behind how her ass ripples and bounces, or let you peer at her dripping thighs.

"You're weaker than all the others," Yujin notes. "I like it."

Should you be offended? Probably, but you aren't, because there's her approval. There's her saying that she likes how easily you break. There's her on the bed with her pussy spread by her fingers, revealing her tiny hole and needy clit.

There's a lot to look at is what you're saying, and a lot to take in consideration. For example—

"Ohhhh, fuck," moans Yujin. She rubs her core and gets a feel of how wet she is. "I'm so wet, see? I'm so, fuck, wet from blowing you."

Yujin leans against one of the pillars of her bed. What makes the sight of her masturbating hotter is that she's still covered in the face with cum that soon drips down her neck and onto her collarbone. She looks like she's been used incessantly, to the point where no amount of cock or finger can help her reach a good enough high. Although you're still sensitive, you begin to jack yourself off to her.

"Shit. Ohhh." Her head tosses backwards and she shuts her eyes. "This feels so good. Make me feel even better. Use your mouth."

It's all about what she wants, but you find out that you also want to put your mouth on her. Stop jerking off to kneel on the floor and place your hands on her thick thighs. You have no idea how to do this except from porn, but she moans loudly when you flick your tongue upwards, so you must be doing well.

Yujin's so wet that she dribbles on her expensive sheets. The feminine scent of her drives you crazy. Due to that, you pick up the pace of eating Yujin out. She's delicious. Better than any expensive meal you got going out.

"Oh, fuck," mewls Yujin. She grinds her clit down on the flat of your tongue. "That's it. Eat me out like that."

Next, guide your tongue to her slit, catching the juices she has. Push it inside, make her thighs suddenly clamp around your head. Painful, but worth it, because as useful as her makeshift earmuffs are, you can still make out her heavy moans.

“G-good, god, so good. Don’t you stop, don’t you fucking stop.”

“I won’t.”

The force of your mouth holds nothing back as it holds Yujin’s nub captive. She pulses in your mouth, and you can sense that she’s close because she’s screaming. She's squirming, she's writhing, she's—

“Stop.”

“But I, I thought you said—” You were having such a good time, too. Why did she have to ruin it?

Yujin giggles. “I wanted to cum on your cock,” she confesses. Sweat rolls down the sides of her face. “Let me?”

She’s subtly assertive like that, asking you first before making you do it anyway. She’s so used to getting her way, so used to letting people bend reality into the form she wants. And you’re becoming one of those people, as you lie down on the bed and let her mount you. You don’t suppose anyone would refuse either—her splayed lips rubbing your tip seems like a good thing to have in exchange for being under her ownership.

“Fuck,” you curse. Maybe this is better, in hindsight. Her hole grasps for you, but she teases it by only letting her clit glide along your cock. “Miss An, ah, Yujin, you’re so—”

“Pretty? Successful? Tight?” She sinks down on your dick with a smirk that differs from your weakened look of bliss. “Yeah, I’ve heard that before.”

They’re all perfect adjectives to describe her, but you weigh in the most on the last. Her soaked slit swallows you without time to properly take it in. She just keeps bouncing on you, a millisecond going unspared, as if she’d die if your cock weren’t ramming in her all times of the day. By her desperate moans, you think you’re right. They’re heavy, hanging onto your mind for too long that it just makes you throb harder inside.

You reach up to grab her tits. The bra-like innerwear she dons blocks you from experiencing the whole of it, and Yujin takes that into consideration, through which she pulls it up her arms and off herself. Her bust now moves up and down freely, looped in your mind like a constant reminder of how lucky you are to have Yujin fuck you. She may get around a lot, but whoever she fucks is like her: a hell of a catch.

You lift yourself up to suck on their brown nipples. She moans ferally. Her pushing your head deeper into her tits is how you realize you’ve wanted to do this, to suck and play and slap her chest, ever since you saw them be set free on the runway. It’s funny how two mounds of flesh can hypnotize you just like that. You’re trying to defeat the impulse actions they convince you to do, as if they were spiritual entities on your shoulder each to twist your decisions. But both are devils—even from their source, it’s clear that An Yujin is no angel.

“Yes, so good!” she screams. Her eyes are shut as she rides you with an impulse and speed that surely can’t be human. The pleasure she unleashes onto your cock as her pussy clings and gropes it must be the embodiment of the deadly sin of lust itself. It was written before in holy books, preached as a warning in churches. There’s no explanation for how angrily she impales herself with your cock. “Your cock’s too fucking big, I’m going to cum all over it!”

You spank her ass, and the plentiful skin wiggles right back into your hand. Seeing her face twist up into this pained yet blissful reaction inspires you to continue. That and your cock entering and exiting her hole, plus your kisses following the path of her neck makes Yujin go crazy.

“Fuck me!” She’s fully unhinged when she cums. Her short yet sharp, alliterate downward thrusts of her core leaves red on your thighs. She’s kissing you with this hunger that’s been fulfilled, in a way, but with which comes gluttony. She can’t have enough. She can’t have enough of your dick. It starts to scare you how she’s like the girls your pastor warned you about in Sunday school—she’s a gluttonous nymphomaniac greedy for things that aren’t good for her. Aren’t good for you.

Having sex with An Yujin makes you debate if you should go back to your religious roots and pray again. You’ve heard about the devil hiding behind human faces, and she completely fits the criteria: charming, deceiving, gorgeous beyond human comprehension. However, her divine body also can be something holy. It’s something that’s more than worth worshiping.

Which is which: evil or good? Angel or demon? A goddess who descended to earth or something far, far more dangerous?

Whichever, you just busted a load inside exactly that.

“So.”

“Hm?”

“Come on, tell me,” you say. Yujin’s teasing banter piques your curiosity to higher levels. “Did you really fuck all those people, or is it just,” shrug, as if you couldn’t care less when you do, “you know, hearsay?”

Yujin strokes your chest thoughtfully. The aftermath of the rough sex has left her almost invalid, but after a shower, she’s good to go. You followed suit after.

“The devil’s telephone,” she whispers.

“Huh?”

“Here. You know where to call me.”

#kpop smut #izone smut #ive smut #an yujin smut #ahn yujin smut #izone yujin smut #ive yujin smut #yujin smut #male reader #x reader #reader insert #pov smut

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nattikay · 1 year ago

Text

Avatar but with Na'vi captions/subtitles Na'vi → English and English → Na'vi

Detailed notes under cut!

[edit] Correcting a few slips and typos:

Rolo'a nìtxan tsaw tsaw should be tsakem because the thing he's referring to is an action

fko a ralpeng tìkanti Eywayä fko should be 'awpo

Fmoli kivar ayoe sawtuteti alahe Sawtuteti should be sawtuteru; the sky people were the students, not the lesson 😅 this one was a particularly dumb slip on my part and I'm not sure how I missed it, hìtxoa ma eylan, krro krro lu oe skxawng 🙃

For peng san Toruk Makto syaw foru Foru should be ayngaru; I got caught up in the original English "calls to them" and forgot that I set it up in Na'vi as a direct quote so it should be "calls to you" 🙃 gosh i miss kelutral emojis these regular ones just aren't the same i need Derp ;w;

Corrections complete, now back to the original notes:

I have been wanting to do something like this for a while. I initially planned to do more scenes, but was having trouble finding the clips (unfortunately I don't have a full editable copy of A1 like I do with A2...that said, if anyone knows where i might source such a thing...let me know >_>)

At first I planned to add only captions (plus accurate subtitles, because as you can see the official ones can be a bit ehhhh lol) for the actual spoken Na'vi, but then halfway through editing I was like "lol y'know what'd be funny, if I also translated all the English dialogue into Na'vi". so i did ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

That said, on to the more specific notes:

Na'vi → English

First a disclaimer that any "corrections" are made for nerdy/educational purposes, not to say "haha look at these dumb actors who can't speak right". Memorizing lines in a foreign language is hard, and I'm sure delivering those lines while acting is even harder! It makes sense that there'll be mispronunciations, accidentally dropped words, smoothing over tìftang, etc. Plus, practically speaking, the number of people in the general audience who know or care whether the Na'vi is mispronounced is....................extremely small, so ^^; yeah.

Unfortunately for me I am part of that extremely small number, so as someone who studies and teaches this language as a hobby, I still felt obligated to make a note of some of the more glaring errors, hence the "actor transcription" slot that sometimes appears, which is there to contrast the intended line with what the actor actually said if and when they're different.

Learners, please note that just because I didn't include an actor transcription doesn't necessarily mean the line was pronounced perfectly—there are a lot of small vowel slips etc. that I didn't bother to "correct" because I felt it was still understandable even if it's technically inaccurate (mixing up a/ä is a common one for instance, as is mixing up i/ì/e), and catching all of them would've taken far more time ^^; That said, admittedly which ones counted as "I should note this" and which ones were "I'll let that slide" was a bit played by ear but w/e, hopefully it is still useful or at least interesting ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

i apologize to Mo'at for adding extra ???? to one of her transcribed lines, I was tired when I made that panel lol

English → Na'vi

Making the Na'vi → English section is fairly straightforward, as I didn't really have to do any of the translating—all the canon lines are freely available online and have been for years. I just had to edit them into the video. For the English → Na'vi section, however, I had to do the translating myself—and therefore feel the need to go through it a little more line-by-line, to justify some of my decisions hrh.

It's nice to meet you, sir → Lu sìltsan fwa ultxarun ngengati Two things about this line: one, I was a little stuck on whether I should use ultxa si (to meet intentionally) or ultxarun (to meet by chance/to encounter). I ended up going with ultxarun because ultxa si made it sound to me more like this meeting had been arranged, which of course it hadn't. Jake may not have "encountered" Eytukan in the sense of stumbling across him in the woods, but he certainly didn't set out with the intention to meet him; the chance circumstances just kinda brought him here.

Two, Na'vi (as far as we currently know) doesn't really have separate honorifics like "sir" or "ma'am". What it does have, though, is formal first- and second-person pronouns, so I used the formal ngenga instead of the casual nga to indicate the (attempted) respectful attitude of "sir".

three, i so wanted to bop Jake on the head while editing this lol, buddy your skxawng is showing

one who interprets the will of Eywa → fko a ralpeng tìkanit Eywayä Initially I was going to translate "will" as tìnew (want/desire), but then changed it to tìkan (aim/purpose/goal/intention). Tìnew sounded more to me like Eywa is discreetly requesting specific actions which the tsahìk must interpret and answer to, while tìkan sounded more like Eywa is just doing her Eywa thing and the tsahìk is simply interpreting what that means, which felt more accurate to me.

What are you called? → Pefya fko syaw ngaru? No need to justify this one, it's pretty straightforward lol—I just think it's fun that she worded it that way in English, because "how does one call to you?" is the standard way of asking someone's identity in Na'vi!

It is hard to fill a cup which is already full → Lu ngäzìk fwa teya si tsngalur a lu teya mi again no justifying really needed, I was just kinda proud of this line because I made it rhyme lol

Jarhead clan → olo' alu Sähena-re'o Na'vi doesn't typically describe nouns with other nouns like that (sähena-re'o), but I felt like it worked for Jake's spitballing. plus Eytukan's about to drop the term "uniltìranyu-tsamsiyu" in the next few lines anyways so i think i can get a pass lol

For my people → Suteri oeyä Ok, for such a short little line this one definitely had me conflicted. If I were to translate the full line "I was afraid for my people", I would say suteri oeyä oe txopu soli (lit. "concerning my people, I was afraid"). In the forest dialect the topical is always supposed to come at the beginning of the sentence. However, that's not how Neytiri delivers the line, and I wanted to keep it consistent with her delivery. In the end I decided that fudging the "topical must come first" rule here was ok here because she is essentially saying "I was afraid", realizing that Jake might not understand what she meant, then doubling back to clarify "for my people".

I considered using fpi ("for the sake of/for the benefit of") instead of the topical, but that felt off, as if Neytiri being afraid somehow benefitted the clan.

I also considered using Na'vi instead of sute—I'd have to drop the oeyä for this because "my the People" sounds silly, but "I was afraid for the People" as in the Na'vi as a whole would make sense here. However, a standalone "Na'viri" just didn't look right to me, and while fpi Na'vi/Na'vifpi" looked a little better, I'd already decided that fpi wasn't quite what I wanted.

So, in the end I stuck with suteri oeyä concerning my people.

Jake's and Tsu'tey's speech

This one gets its own little section because it was an interesting case; I'm basically redoing Tsu'tey's job. Now, if you take the entirety of Jake's speech and line it up with the entirety of Tsu'tey's translation, it's pretty good; they do basically say the same thing (I suspect this is actually what happened lol, that KP was given the full speech and asked to translate it and said "yeah ok" and wrote Tsu'tey's version).

As you can see, though, when you go through it line-by-line the way it's delivered in the movie, it's....not always quite accurate lol. So I made a version that was a more literal to Jake's speech line-by-line.

On that note, I've noticed that KP tends to really prefer the shortened versions of case endings ("for" vs "foru" etc.) I like them sometimes ("oey" and "ngey" have really been growing on me lately lol), but as a personal style preference I wouldn't have used them in all the same places he does (this is 100% a personal preference thing that will vary between speakers, neither is more or less "correct"). That said, if and when one of the lines I translated wound up being very similar to what Tsu'tey already said, out of respect for the original I went ahead and kept the same shortened endings, as well as matching the word order.

You ride out as fast as the wind can carry you → Kämakto nìwin nìfya'o a win nìftxan na hufwe atusul Literally, "ride out in a manner as fast as the running wind".

Ngl I actually VASTLY prefer Tsu'tey's version of this one lol. "May the wind propel you" is a lovely "meaning-not-words" interpretation and I like it a lot. However, for comparisons' sake I wanted to do one that was closer to Jake's original line. That said, I'm not surprised they went with a less literal translation for this line because "as fast as the wind can carry you" is actually really hard to pull off grammatically in Na'vi. It'd have to be like "as fast as the wind's ability which is to carry you" or smth, which just sounded clunky imo. So I decided that "as fast as the running wind" was a good middle ground. Not as clean or poetic as Tsu'tey's interpretation, but techincally closer to Jake's original line without being too clunky.

peng san I'm not sure if the quotation opener is strictly necessary here but it felt more cohesive to have it in my personal opinion, so I added it to mine but didn't mark it as a mistake in Tsu'tey's.

and uhhhhh that's it I think. Perhaps one day I will make a part 2 if I get access to more scenes. I also already have an English → Na'vi translation of an A2 scene that I'm gonna make into a subtitled video one of these days. I'd love to do a Na'vi → English for A2 as well, but unfortunately we don't currently have a complete list of the Na'vi lines for A2 like we do for A1, and as you have seen here actor delivery can make it very hard to translate by ear, even for experienced learners. Maybe someday...

#edit: some minor corrections have been added to the notes under the cut ('twas bound to happen :'))#lì'fya leNa'vi #avatar #avatar 2009 #na'vi #neytiri #jake sully #eytukan #tsu'tey #moat #just wait i bet i'm gonna suddenly discover like ten gazillion mistakes AFTER I post-- >:'D

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accio-victuuri · 1 year ago

Text

NOVEMBER 19 : The Full Story 📝

oh well sort of, cause this is what is known and shared publicly with tons of filling in the blanks by cpfs. someone made a side by side incidents during this day and time for the past years 2017 to now 2023 and it’s good to see it all laid out. it’s hilarious to see the realization among turtles that we could be wrong about their anniversary date. for years, we always talked about the month of June but now, November is making a great argument 😂

( these freakin masterminds are so naughty! I swear!!! 🤣🤣🤣 )

source of the compilation i’m using to outline is 圣衣雪琳 cause they perfectly summed up the key points very well. I already talked about some of these in my previous post but this is for the “11/19 lore” exclusively and so we can expand on other years.

I’m a sucker for timelines so let’s go 💪🏼

2017: At this time, they already know of each other and depending on who you ask might have already been low key stalking the other. LOL. WYB’s was about Just Dance and ZZ is a selfie and hotpot ; the latter post about going home.

I don’t think that this holds much significance in terms of an actual relationship and stuff happening behind the scenes. However, it feels like fate that they both posted on this day even without that significance being there. We cpfs love to talk about how they are fated and certain things, no matter how mundane, turned out to be a piece that completed the puzzle. There is some push back with some turtles saying this shouldn’t be included cause it seems like the start of this 11/19 is 2018 but again, just leaving this here. I could probably add 2015/2016 if we really wanna back track lol

2018: THIS IS THE KEY CPN IN ALL OF THIS. I have already explained it here. The infamous Japan trip. How both of them seemingly making references to their post from this year vs today (2023) especially XZ who even posted on the same time. There are so many rumors about this timeline, even going as far as saying the next day, they started living together. How this was WYB saying it’s WYB, not LWJ. So the relationship they have now is not between fictional characters but the real one.

I’m eating this candy whole. No one can tell me otherwise. I’m sold 🤣🤣🤣

Have we been wrong? did they officially become together 11/19/2018. Some are even pointing out that one of GG’s photos shared today appears to be him traveling back from IM to Beijing.

and who is in Beijing? His home. Yibo. 🏡

We love to think about them sharing photos to each other and i’m imagining this is ZZ sending something similar to WYB and saying that he is on his way back.

2019: Bazaar video was released, it’s message being a favorite among BXGs. Going by the assumption that this is their anniversary of sorts, it makes sense to have a message like that to be delivered.

how he met his love in a dream ( presumably that summer and playing wwx opposite wyb’s lwj ) and when he woke up, his love is still there. meaning even in reality, he still feels the same. no. it was not scripted, the one who shot it said it was xz’s answer and he was shocked too.

youtube

They posted some work related stuff on that day, with WYB’s being audi’s. the part of the caption we are clowning about is : Don’t blame me for not reminding you. Which in the original post and context is about the benefits you will get if you buy an Audi. but in cpn speak it could mean that ZZ probably forget, but he actually didn’t cause that bazaar love confession was clear.

2020: I already talked in detail over here #2 with was going on at the time.

It’s also the start of the whole Thursday is a good day to see you, in reference to WYB’s vogue post. Then it snowballed into a whole CPN of it’s own.

I forgot to add one important thing tho, around this time 11/18 there schedules were public and both are supposed to go back to Beijing. WYB was from Hangzhou and ZZ was from Nanjing. The incident of WYB changing his flight 3x so he can go back to Beijing is this time 11/18. We clowned that he was so eager to be in the same city with ZZ but with what we think now, it could be he wanted them to be together badly because it’s their anniversary the next day 11/19. 🤯

2021: Both of them posting a Douyin video that involves changing clothes. Which is a very common transition trend on the app but seeing it done on the same day was a treat and unusual. GG’s was posted 11/17 and WYB was 11/19.

I wanna remind people too that this is the same month we got the mysterious “voices” both in Shenzhen Vlog ( his husband wang yibo ) and talks of ZZ being at the Luoyang press conference filming. The same month the whole Ximalaya CPN started too. So they were definitely “acting up”.

2022: No actual posts but a parallel. 11/17, Guangdian appeared on the itunes chart because of fan’s effort. 11/18, WYB released a song ( government related ) called Light Chaser. So spotlight = light chaser has similar element and theme of light. Then on 11/20 WYB’s shared a douyin with 👀.

2023: Probably making up for how quiet last year was, they decided to give us a big hint/s of what 11/19 is all about. 😂😂😂

This is all fake and cpn talk. I do enjoy when candies go years back! This journey of trying to piece things together is a bxg’s strength so we’re really thriving today— with all the possibly unrelated events we have managed to stitch together into this! 🙃

#bjyx #yizhan #there is no science here i’m just clowning like i always do #Youtube #i love watching all of us collectively lose our minds over this lol #ok i shall sleep now

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rosyblooom · 8 months ago

Text

losing ur interest | op81 smau

PAIRING: oscar piastri x fem best friend!reader WARNING(S): kinda angsty SUMMARY: oscar spent the better half of his teens and early twenties pining after his best friend, y/n, with no luck. however, by the time y/n finally sees him in a romantic light, his love is long gone.

Instagram

yourusername

liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri, lilymhe, and 91,740 others

yourusername did i jump in the water fully clothed for my bestie only to get one nice shot?? yes yes i did that and u would do it too for a free dinner! 😌

view all 1,225 comments

username she was an employee! and she was gonna get employee of the month period y/n !!!

yourusername yessir🫡 username 🤣🤣

username so... where is this picture you speak of🧍‍♀️

oscarpiastri 40 cad of food for 1 pic...😐

yourusername not my fault u're so unphotogenic x username oscar bby the public would like to see it pls 🤲🧎‍♀️

username prettyyyy

landonorris the camera guy always gets the short end of the stick smh guess who paid for my food🤨

yourusername uhm... so anyway the weather was soo nice😋 landonorris woow

oscarpiastri posted to his story!

[ caption: This picture alone is NOT worth a fully paid meal! 2/10 ]

[ tagged: yourusername ]

oscarpiastri

liked by logansargeant, yourfriend, landonorris and 265,880 others

tagged: yourusername

oscarpiastri Two best friends in a room, they might...

view all 3,002 comments

username KISS OMG THEY MIGHT FUCKING KISS YESS PLS😭

oscarpiastri 👀👀👀 yourusername ahahahahahaha😂 username ouch...my heart hurts for osc🥹💔 username alright y/n it ain't that funny😐

username AHHJKSH they're so cute omfg

username slowly realising best friends to lovers ain't ever gonna happen with these two😩

landonorris finally give photo credits???🤨

username oop yourusername never 😙❤️

username the way y/n didn't even like the post omg crying and fucking throwing up

username 😭😭 username sigh... nobody talk to me rn 😞

f1gossipofficial

liked by username, username, username and 11,840 others

f1gossipofficial Y/N L/N, Oscar Piastri's long-time childhood best friend, was spotted entering the paddock today! Despite being a fan favourite, she hasn't attended many races and tends to keep to herself.

Nevertheless, fans are thrilled to see Y/N supporting Piastri at this year's Australian Grand Prix!

Best of luck to all drivers today!

view all 531 comments

username y/n on insta: 🤪😆🗣️ y/n at a gp: 🤐😊🙈

username LMAOO ...why is this me tho🥲 username she's so real for that lololol username ntm on my girl now, she's just shy🤣🫶

username it's so clear oscar's in love with her omg

username she's not tho☹️

username imagine if oscar wins today👀👀

username she looks so prettyyyyy <3

username ew she's just there for the money and fame🤢

username "long-term childhood best friend" what's not clicking??? yall just be saying anything smh

yourusername posted to her story!

[ caption: alright boys, time to get on ur zoom 🏎️ ]

[ tagged: oscarpiastri, landonorris ]

Twitter

Instagram

oscarpiastri posted to his story!

[ caption 1: When your best friend buys you pizza to make you feel better after a crash 😊 ] [ caption 2: Nevermind she dropped it 🤦‍♂️ Actually feeling worse now! ]

[ tagged: yourusername ]

A few months later...

Instagram

yourusername posted to her story!

[ caption: the best type of mattress 😌 ]

[ tagged: oscarpiastri ]

ynfanpage

liked by username, username, yourusername and 3,892 others

tagged: yourusername, oscarpiastri

ynfanpage guys have you noticed how giddy and touchy y/n's become around oscar ever since his crash at the aus gp??? these are some pics she's posted since then👀👀👀

view all 227 comments

username OMG YES IVE BEEN DYING TO TALK ABOUT IT

username what do you wanna bet she realised she was in love with osc that day??🥺

username IMAGINE. that would actually make so much sense!!! best friend to lovers at last omfg 😍🫶 username my nonna always said "sometimes u have to almost lose someone to realise how much they really mean to u"🥹

username Y/N IS IN THE FUCKING LIKES WTF‼️

username probably by accident🥲 username BUT WHAT IF IT'S NOT AN ACCIDENT??? maybe we'll get a hard launch soon omgg

username they're sooo dating lol

oscarpiastri

liked by yourusername, lilyzneimer, logansargeant and 201,888 others

tagged: yourusername, lilyzneimer + more

oscarpiastri Made some new friends at the beach today :)

view all 1,962 comments

username the vibes in these are immaculate🤩

yourusername same time, same place? :)❤️

landonorris where was my invite???

oscarpiastri Non-existent 😊 username lmaoo why are they like this🤣🤣

username is that y/n and osc in the third pic??🧐

username idk but lmk when u figure it out babes

lilyzneimer super fun! nice meeting you guys 💛

oscarpiastri You too 😆

username idk oscar responding to everybody but y/n's comment rubs me the wrong way...🤨

Instagram

lilyzneimer posted to her story!

[ caption: 🍝💛💛 ]

Instagram

yourusername

liked by landonorris, lilymhe, riabish and 82,045 others

yourusername beach x (ty lovely waiter for taking my pic for me)

view all 1,528 comments

lilymhe prettiest! 💕

yourusername youuu <33

username where's oscarrrr

username she's so fake😒 how is she super shy at the gp and then so outgoing here smh??

username lmao maybe bc this is her own insta?? like duh she feels comfortable on her own page wtf

landonorris alone?🤨 where's your shadow

yourusername u're so...😭 username LMAOO referring to oscar as her shadow is crazy??💀💀 username i'm cryin🤣🤣

oscarpiastri posted to his story!

[ caption: 😊❤️ ]

[ tagged: lilyzneimer ]

Twitter

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yourusername posted to her story!

[ caption: girls night in? yes, yes pls :) ]

[ tagged: yourfriend + more ]

0:02 ㅇ──────────── 3:17

no part 2!

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sunnysam-my · 8 months ago

Note

It's ironic almost that Viv shoves "rep" into her shows and went out of her way to include a deaf child at an adult sex circus show for said "rep" but like. Fuck people with visual disabilities right? Because neither of those shows have considered how people with colorblindness or even mild visual impairment might not be able to even WATCH the shows with how bad their colour balancing is.

Viv has completely ignored that having unique designs and color palettes for your world and characters is not only basic design for cartoons but also how you maybe your show accessible to those who struggle visually

Funny you ask me that, I actually already made a post about that signing scene and distracting captioner's notes, because I have a hearing disorder and wanted to add my two cents.

I can't get over the fact the it wasn't a teenager around the age Fizz was when he went to that show with Blitzø. I genuinely can't think why they decided to have a young child be the fan other than it being more wholesome because it was a child.

Think for a second about why this scene there. Fizz was spiraling, consumed by thoughs of not being enough and being a "fake, sellout jester". He himself was a disabled teenager who wanted to be the greatest clown of his times. He ended up as a fake, sellout jester, just like Blitz said. But he saw himself in that kid. He saw for who really he wanted to perform. I don't think it would be as impactful to him if it was regular imp, but this would make infinitely more sense, on so many levels, if this was a teenager. But no, we gotta have a freaking child, because it's just way more cuter that way, right? I genuinely don't understand what other possible reasons for why this was a child, and not a teenager, could be.

I'm also still not over the fucking captions. I had problems with following what was happening in S02E06 of Helluva Boss, because of weirdly described sounds and big chunks of captioner's notes and jokes. That's unacceptable.

The irony of literally being an asshole to deaf/HoH people by purposeful fucking up the caption, the thing we rely on to be able watch a show, only to "give" a representation to said group next episode is almost funny.

But going back to the visuals, yes, it's so hard to watch. HB is better than Hazbin, but both aren't great if you have any sort of vision disorder, and this is coming from someone who just have the regular stuff, shortsightedness, astigmatism etc. The legally blind and colourblind folks must have it hard. HH is a joke when it comes to any sort of contrast. Even if they decided to stick to red(-ish) colours, there's still so much shades to work with. It isn't a impossible to make monochromatic art. In fact it's actually a popular training tool for young artists to learn how to do it even when you have more colours.

Here's some examples of monochromatic and mostly monochromatic art done right.

Now compare one of them with a screenshots from HH, both without saturation (black and white).

Hazbin Hotel isn't even monochromatic and fails miserably at any contrast. So no, it isn't just the problem of lack of hue (colour) differentces, it overall just failed at colour and contrast balancing, especially in the hotel, and there's no defending HH on this, because you have three sliders god damnit!

#hazbin hotel critique #hazbin hotel criticism #hazbin hotel critical #disability representation #disability pride #disability #art #helluva boss critical #helluva boss criticism #vivziepop #vivziepop critical #hazbin hotel #helluva boss

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aughby · 2 months ago

Text

The Cold Star

I am the kind of person who always finds the funny side of things. Perhaps this explains why I had enjoyed making fun of Yuki Ishikawa so much, especially with regards to his cold, stoic attitude. With that calm focus of his, Yuki was a volleyball star who could dominate the court with ease. And me? I was only Mayu's best friend, and I enjoyed poking fun at him from the sidelines. It wasn't like I actually felt anything for him. Right? At least, that’s what I thought at first.

It was harmless enough at first. Since we were little, Yuki's younger sister Mayu and I had remained close. I was treated like a part of the family. Mayu and I used to sit in the stands and support Yuki and the team whenever he had a game. But mine was mixed with a lot of playful jabs, in contrast to Mayu's passionate and sincere support.

"Nice block, Yuki! However, you could have done it with a smile!" I would yell, causing Mayu to roll her eyes at my foolishness.

And there was Yuki on the court, never missing a beat. His face was always set in that calm, almost unreadable expression. If he ever heard my teasing, he never let it show. He was laser-focused, like nothing outside the game even mattered.

But I knew he noticed. After all, when the game ended and Mayu dragged me along to meet him, I’d catch the slight twitch of his lips, like he was trying not to react to my latest remark.

“Hey Yuki,” I greeted him after one game, holding out a water bottle like I��d been assigned some unofficial manager role. “Maybe next time, you could wink after a spike. You know, for the fans.”

He took the bottle, but his cold gaze met mine. “That’s not happening.”

I smirked, unfazed by his lack of enthusiasm. “Come on, just one wink. You might even make the crowd swoon.”

He rolled his eyes, and I knew I’d succeeded in getting under his skin just a little. That had become our dynamic—me teasing him relentlessly and him brushing me off like it didn’t affect him at all. It was a game I liked to play, and he seemed content to play along, even if his moves were subtle.

We exchanged a few text messages here and there, though Yuki wasn’t much of a texter. I’d send him random volleyball memes or pictures from the game, captioning them with things like, “Wow, look at that serious face. Is this Yuki or a statue? ”

His replies were always short: “Not funny” or “Go away.”

But the fact that he responded at all was enough for me. It wasn’t like I was expecting anything more from him. We were just friends—sort of. And this whole teasing thing? It was just part of the fun.

But then, one night, something shifted.

It had been a particularly rough game for Yuki. The team had lost, and though he never let his emotions show on the surface, I knew him well enough by then to sense that the defeat weighed on him.

After the game, Mayu had plans with other friends, so I ended up walking over to where Yuki was. His teammates were talking quietly among themselves, but Yuki was off to the side, sitting on the bench, staring blankly at the court.

“Hey,” I said, sitting down next to him, trying to lighten the mood like I always did. “Tough game. But you know, I bet if you smiled more—”

“Can you not?” He interrupted, his tone sharper than usual.

I blinked, caught off guard. Yuki never reacted like that. He always let my comments roll off his back. But tonight, there was tension in the air, something heavy lingering between us.

“Sorry, I was just—”

“I know,” he cut me off again, his eyes still fixed on the empty court. “But not tonight.”

I sat there in awkward silence for a moment, unsure of what to say. This was new. I wasn’t used to seeing Yuki like this—so vulnerable, so raw. I wasn’t sure how to handle it, and for the first time, I felt like my teasing wasn’t welcome. So, I didn’t say anything else. We just sat there, side by side, in the quiet aftermath of the game.

That night, as I walked home, something strange settled in my chest. I couldn’t stop thinking about the way Yuki had looked—his usually stoic face hiding a hint of something deeper. And for the first time, I found myself wondering: Did I actually care?

The next few days were different. I stopped texting him as much. My usual jokes and jabs felt... off. Something had changed, and it wasn’t just Yuki. It was me. I realized that all the teasing, all the jokes about him smiling or being cold, were just my way of covering up something else—something real.

And it scared me.

The thought of actually liking Yuki, of having real feelings for him, was terrifying. He was the complete opposite of me—calm, collected, and serious. I was loud, playful, and always joking around. How could someone like him ever take someone like me seriously?

So, I stopped. I stopped teasing him. I stopped texting him every other day. I stopped showing up to his games as often, making excuses to Mayu that I was busy. I thought if I distanced myself, these feelings would fade. It was just a silly crush, right?

But the more I tried to avoid him, the more I found myself thinking about him. His calm presence, the way he never let anything get to him, the subtle moments when I caught a glimpse of something softer beneath his cold exterior. It was driving me crazy.

One afternoon, about a week after I’d started pulling away, I got a text from Yuki.

Yuki: Why did you stop?

I stared at my phone, confused.

Me: Stop what?

Yuki: The teasing. You haven’t been to a game in a while.

I hesitated, my heart racing. He noticed. Of course he noticed.

Me: Just busy, I guess.

His reply came almost immediately.

Yuki: Liar.

I swallowed hard, feeling a lump form in my throat. Why did this feel so difficult all of a sudden? Why couldn’t I just joke around with him like I used to? But before I could think of how to respond, another text came through.

Yuki: If you’re done teasing me, does that mean I won?

I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. Leave it to Yuki to turn this into some sort of competition.

Me: I’m just giving you a break, Ishikawa. Don’t get cocky.

There was a long pause before his next message.

Yuki: Don’t. I didn’t mind it.

I stared at his words for a long time, my heart pounding in my chest. He didn’t mind it. What did that even mean? Did he enjoy the teasing? Or was there something more to it?

For the first time in a long time, I didn’t know how to respond. Because the truth was, I didn’t mind it either. In fact, I was starting to realize that I had never just been teasing. All those comments, all those jokes—they were my way of hiding how I really felt.

And maybe, just maybe, Yuki had felt something too.

Before I could overthink it any further, another text popped up on my screen.

Yuki: Don’t leave me hanging. You said you’d give me a break, but you never said why.

Of course he’d follow up. Yuki wasn’t the type to let things slide once he set his mind on something. I sighed, trying to come up with a response that wasn’t too revealing but would still keep the conversation light.

Me: Wow, didn’t know you’d miss me so much. I must’ve really gotten under your skin, huh?

I bit my lip after sending that, feeling a little braver than I actually was. My heart was racing, and I couldn’t deny the stupid grin that had made its way onto my face.

A few moments later, my phone buzzed again.

Yuki: I didn’t say I missed you. Just wondering why you stopped acting like a pest.

Me: A pest? Ouch, Ishikawa. You know, most people would be flattered to have someone cheer for them so consistently.

Yuki: "Cheer" isn’t the word I’d use. "Annoy" is more accurate.

I chuckled, rolling my eyes. Classic Yuki. Always so blunt. But still, I could tell that he was curious. And knowing Yuki, he wasn’t going to drop this anytime soon.

Me: Fine. If you must know, I figured you needed a break from my amazing personality. Didn’t want to overwhelm you, you know? Can’t have you falling for me or anything.

I added a winking emoji, half-joking, but my stomach flipped at the thought of him reading it. I was playing it cool, but the truth was, I wasn’t so sure I could handle his response.

After a pause that felt way too long, Yuki replied.

Yuki: I’m not falling for you.

The bluntness of his message hit me square in the chest, but before I could let my embarrassment spiral out of control, I saw he was typing again.

Yuki: …But don’t disappear.

My breath caught, and I felt my heart skip a beat. There it was again—that rare, vulnerable side of Yuki that only appeared in the smallest of moments. The Yuki who didn’t smile much, who never let his emotions show on the court, was asking me to stick around. It wasn’t exactly a confession of love or anything, but it was something. And coming from Yuki, it meant a lot.

I was about to respond when my phone buzzed again.

Yuki: Besides, you’re not that annoying. I’ve gotten used to it.

I laughed out loud at that. Leave it to Yuki to sneak in an insult while still managing to say something sweet.

Me: Wow, "not that annoying." Is that the closest I’m going to get to a compliment from you, Ishikawa?

Yuki: Don’t push it.

I smirked, feeling a warmth in my chest. It felt good to banter with him again. For a second, it was like things were back to normal, like I hadn’t been avoiding him for the past week because of my increasingly confusing feelings.

But just as I was getting comfortable, Mayu barged into my room, flopping onto my bed with a dramatic sigh.

“Ugh, you won’t believe what just happened,” she groaned, stretching out across my blanket like she owned the place.

I raised an eyebrow at her. “What now?”

“Yuki,” she grumbled, rolling her eyes. “He’s acting all weird lately. Even weirder than usual.”

I froze, glancing at my phone like it was a ticking time bomb. Weird? Yuki? Because of me?

Mayu sat up, frowning when she noticed my expression. “Wait, why do you look so guilty? What did you do?”

“Nothing!” I said quickly, stuffing my phone under a pillow. “I didn’t do anything. Why would you think that?”

She narrowed her eyes at me, suspicious. “Uh-huh. Sure. The last time you looked like that was when you switched his water bottle with vinegar during practice. What are you hiding?”

I groaned, remembering that incident. That prank had definitely been one of my more extreme teasing moments. Yuki had glared at me for hours after that, though he eventually got his revenge by setting my ringtone to the sound of a crying baby during a team dinner.

“I’m not hiding anything,” I insisted, trying to sound casual. “Why would I need to hide something?”

Mayu folded her arms, her eyes narrowing even further. “Okay, now I know you’re hiding something. Spill.”

I hesitated, my mind racing. There was no way I was about to tell Mayu that I might, might, be developing feelings for her brother. That was a whole mess I wasn’t ready to deal with yet. So, I did what I always did when I was backed into a corner.

I deflected.

“Maybe Yuki’s just stressed,” I said quickly, shrugging like it wasn’t a big deal. “You know, with volleyball and everything. He’s got a lot on his plate.”

Mayu squinted at me, still unconvinced. “Since when do you care about Yuki’s stress levels?”

“Hey, I care!” I protested, though I knew it didn’t sound entirely believable. “I mean, he’s your brother. And my… friend. Sort of. I’m just being considerate.”

Mayu’s eyes widened dramatically. “Wait, wait, wait. Are you actually defending Yuki right now? Oh my god, do you have a crush on him or something?”

My face flushed bright red. “What? No! Of course not!” I yelped, way too fast.

Mayu gasped, slapping a hand over her mouth like she’d just uncovered the world’s biggest secret. “Oh my god, you totally do! This is hilarious! I need to tell Yuki—”

I jumped up, grabbing her arm before she could bolt out of the room. “No! Don’t you dare tell him!”

She cackled, delighted by my panicked reaction. “I knew it! All that teasing was just you flirting! Oh, this is gold. I can’t wait to see Yuki’s face when I—”

I practically tackled her back onto the bed, both of us wrestling for her phone as she tried to text her brother.

“No, Mayu, I’m serious!” I whined, trying to sound more threatening than I actually was. “If you tell Yuki, I’ll—I’ll tell your crush on Kenta from the basketball team!”

Mayu froze, her eyes going wide with horror. “You wouldn’t.”

I raised an eyebrow, my hand poised over her phone. “Try me.”

She groaned, flopping back dramatically onto the bed, defeated. “Fine, fine. I won’t tell Yuki. But oh my god, this is hilarious. I can’t believe you like him. You, of all people.”

“I don’t like him,” I mumbled, trying to convince myself as much as her. But the truth was, it wasn’t just teasing anymore. Not really.

Mayu smirked at me knowingly. “Yeah, sure. Keep telling yourself that.”

Later that night, after Mayu finally left, I found myself staring at my phone again. Yuki hadn’t texted since our last exchange, and I wasn’t sure if I should say something or just let it be.

But before I could decide, my phone buzzed.

Yuki: You’re really bad at hiding things. Mayu almost told me something interesting.

I groaned, burying my face in my pillow. Of course she’d almost told him. I should’ve known better than to trust Mayu to keep a secret.

Me: Don’t believe anything she says. She’s delusional.

There was a brief pause, and then another message came through.

Yuki: So you don’t have a crush on me?

I froze, my heart doing a weird flip. Was he serious? Was he messing with me? I had no idea how to respond, but before I could panic too much, another text came.

Yuki: Because that’d be a shame. I’m not done with your teasing yet.

And just like that, I knew I was in trouble.

I stared at Yuki’s last message, my mind spinning. “Because that’d be a shame. I’m not done with your teasing yet.”

What? My brain short-circuited. Yuki never said things like this. He was always cold, straightforward, and impossible to read. What was happening? I blinked, trying to process his words, but they just kept replaying in my head.

Was Yuki... teasing me now?

No way. No way.

Me: Is this your idea of a joke? Who are you and what did you do with the real Yuki?

I was trying to sound casual, trying to stay cool. But the truth was, my heart was pounding, and I was half-expecting him to shut down the conversation like he usually did. That’s what Yuki did—he built walls, kept people at a distance. But this? This was new.

His reply came quickly.

Yuki: Maybe I’m learning from you. Not that hard, really.

My eyes widened. Yuki? Learning to tease me back? I wasn’t sure whether to be impressed or terrified. I wasn’t used to being on the receiving end of this kind of banter, especially from him.

Me: Wow, trying to steal my moves now? Bold move, Ishikawa. But be careful—you might get in over your head.

I smiled as I sent the message, feeling a little more like myself. This was our dynamic—playful, teasing, never too serious. But something about it felt different tonight. There was a tension in the air, something unspoken lingering between us.

He didn’t respond right away this time, and I wondered if I’d pushed him too far. But just as I started to worry, my phone buzzed again.

Yuki: Over my head? I can handle it. But can you?

There it was again—that subtle challenge, the hint of something more behind his words. My stomach flipped, and for a moment, I wasn’t sure if we were still joking or if this had crossed into something deeper.

I hesitated, my fingers hovering over the screen as I tried to figure out what to say next. Yuki wasn’t the type to play games, not really. If he was saying this, it meant something. And for the first time, I realized I wasn’t just teasing him anymore. The feelings I’d been trying to bury were right there, bubbling up to the surface.

I bit my lip, deciding to take a risk.

Me: You think I can’t handle you?

The moment I sent it, I felt my heart race faster. I was pushing him now, but part of me wanted to see what he’d say. If I was going to keep pretending this was just a game, I needed to know if he felt something too.

His reply was quick, almost too quick.

Yuki: I think you’re used to playing safe.

I blinked at the message. Playing safe? I didn’t know if he was still talking about the teasing, or if he was hinting at something bigger. My throat tightened, and I suddenly realized that he’d been paying a lot more attention to me than I thought.

I wasn’t sure how to respond, so I went for humor, my defense mechanism whenever things got too serious.

Me: Oh please, I’m the master of chaos. Safe is boring.

Yuki: Prove it.

I stared at the message, my heart stuttering in my chest. What did he mean by that? I was stuck between laughing it off and letting it sink in. My mind raced, trying to come up with a clever response, but nothing felt right. This wasn’t like our usual banter. He was challenging me in a way he never had before, and it left me feeling... exposed.

But before I could type anything back, another text came through.

Yuki: Tomorrow. There’s a game. Show up.

I blinked, rereading the message. He wanted me at his game? That wasn’t unusual, but the timing felt different now, especially with this weird tension simmering between us.

Me: I’ll be there. Ready to scream at you from the stands as usual.

Yuki: Good. I’ll be watching.

What did that mean? Yuki never watched the stands during a game—he was always laser-focused on the court. But now? My mind spun in circles. Was he saying he’d be looking for me? The thought made my stomach flip in the weirdest way.

The next day, I was a mess of nerves.

I showed up at the gym with Mayu, trying to act like everything was normal. She, of course, kept throwing me suspicious looks the whole way there, no doubt still trying to piece together why I’d been so weird about Yuki lately.

“You sure you’re okay?” she asked for the third time as we found our seats.

“I’m fine,” I lied, pulling my jacket tighter around me as we settled into the bleachers. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because you’ve been acting super weird,” she said bluntly. “You never get this quiet.”

I forced a smile, trying to shake off my nerves. “Just excited for the game. Gotta come up with new material to tease Yuki with, you know?”

Mayu rolled her eyes. “Uh-huh. Sure.”

The game started, and like always, Yuki was a force on the court. His movements were precise, controlled, and powerful—everything about him screamed focus. And yet, every now and then, I’d catch him glancing up at the stands, his eyes scanning the crowd. Was he looking for me? Or was I just imagining it?

“Hey, Yuki!” I called out during a timeout, cupping my hands around my mouth. “Think you could smile while you’re out there? Might make you more popular with the crowd!”

Yuki didn’t even glance my way, but I could see the slight twitch of his lips as he grabbed a towel from the bench. Mayu elbowed me, grinning. “He totally heard you.”

“Of course he did,” I said, feeling a little more like myself now. This was how it was supposed to be—me teasing him, him pretending to ignore me.

But deep down, I knew things were different now. It wasn’t just about the teasing anymore. The more I watched him, the more I realized how much I actually cared. And that scared me more than I was willing to admit.

The game ended in a win, and the crowd erupted into cheers. Yuki and his team congratulated each other, and Mayu and I waited near the sidelines for him like we always did.

When he finally walked over, he was still his usual, stoic self—sweat dripping down his face, his hair slightly messy from the intense game. He wiped his forehead with a towel and glanced at me, his expression unreadable.

“Good game, Yuki,” I said, forcing a grin. “Though you’d probably win more if you smiled every now and then.”

He raised an eyebrow, his gaze locking onto mine in that intense way that always made me feel like he could see right through me. “I thought you’d be louder.”

I blinked. “What?”

“You weren’t as loud today. Thought you were giving me a break?”

I swallowed hard, trying to think of something clever to say, but my brain was too busy processing the fact that Yuki had actually noticed. He’d noticed that I wasn’t my usual teasing self, and now here he was, calling me out on it.

“I didn’t want to distract you,” I said, trying to sound casual.

“Liar,” he said simply, and before I could react, he leaned in just slightly, his voice low enough for only me to hear. “You’re playing safe again.”

My heart nearly stopped. There it was again—that challenge. The one that made it clear he knew exactly what I was doing, and that he wasn’t going to let me get away with it.

I stared at him, my mind spinning. What was I supposed to say to that? How was I supposed to respond when he was standing so close, looking at me like he was daring me to admit something I wasn’t ready to say?

But before I could figure it out, Yuki straightened up, wiping his face with the towel again. “I’ll see you around,” he said, his voice back to its usual cool, indifferent tone.

And just like that, he turned and walked away, leaving me standing there, my heart racing and my mind spinning in circles.

Mayu, of course, chose that moment to appear at my side, smirking like she’d just won the lottery. “Okay, what was that about? You guys were whispering. Did Yuki actually flirt with you?”

“Shut up, Mayu,” I mumbled, my face burning as I watched Yuki disappear into the crowd.

But deep down, I knew she was right. Something had definitely changed between Yuki and me.

And I wasn’t sure I could keep pretending it was just a game anymore.

The next few days were a blur. My mind couldn’t stop replaying that moment between Yuki and me at the game. His words, his proximity, the way he seemed to know what was going on inside my head—it was like he had seen through the teasing, the jokes, the deflections, and was quietly waiting for me to admit it.

And the worst part was, I didn’t know what to do about it.

I kept my distance for the next couple of days, trying to avoid both Yuki and Mayu as much as possible. Mayu had clearly noticed something was up, but after the game, she hadn’t pressed me too much. Yet. I knew it was only a matter of time before she cornered me for a “serious talk.”

I needed space. Time to figure out what all of this meant. The truth was, I hadn’t expected to get caught up in my own game. But somehow, somewhere along the line, my feelings had shifted. What had started as harmless teasing, a bit of fun at Yuki’s expense, had turned into something… real.

And that terrified me.

On the third day of avoidance, Mayu finally cornered me during lunch, plopping down across from me with a knowing grin.

“You’re acting weird again,” she declared, stabbing her chopsticks into her lunch. “Spill.”

“I’m not acting weird,” I lied, refusing to meet her gaze as I poked at my own food.

“Oh, please.” She rolled her eyes. “You’re barely texting me, you haven’t bothered to tease Yuki in days, and you’ve been walking around like someone stole your favorite hoodie. What’s going on?”

I hesitated, knowing I couldn’t avoid this conversation forever. But I wasn’t ready to tell her the whole truth—not yet.

“It’s nothing,” I said, trying to sound casual. “Just a lot on my mind, that’s all.”

Mayu raised an eyebrow. “Uh-huh. And does this ‘lot on your mind’ have anything to do with my brother?”

I froze, my chopsticks halfway to my mouth.

Mayu leaned in, her grin widening. “Oh my god, it does. I knew it.”

“Mayu, seriously—”

“No, no, no,” she interrupted, pointing a finger at me. “You are not getting out of this. What is going on between you and Yuki? I saw the way you guys were whispering at the game. He was all up in your space, and you were, like, totally red-faced. Spill. Now.”

I groaned, burying my face in my hands. “It’s complicated.”

“Oh, I love complicated,” Mayu said, practically bouncing in her seat. “So, what, you finally realized you’ve got a thing for him?”

I peeked at her through my fingers, my face burning. “Maybe.”

Mayu gasped, slapping a hand over her mouth. “Oh my god! You actually like Yuki? This is amazing!”

“No, it’s not amazing!” I groaned, dropping my hands onto the table. “It’s a disaster.”

Mayu blinked at me, clearly confused. “Why? What’s the problem? I mean, yeah, Yuki’s, like, a giant icicle, but it’s pretty obvious he doesn’t hate you. He actually talks to you, which is more than he does for most people.”

I sighed, leaning back in my seat. “It’s just… complicated, okay? I’ve been teasing him for months, and now it’s all weird. I don’t know how to act around him anymore.”

“Maybe stop teasing him so much?” Mayu suggested, as if it were the most obvious solution in the world.

I shot her a look. “And what, suddenly start acting all serious and weird? That’s not how we work.”

“So you’re just gonna keep teasing him and pretend you don’t like him? That doesn’t sound like a solid plan, bestie.”

“I know!” I groaned, throwing my hands up in frustration. “But what else am I supposed to do? I can’t just tell him.”

“Why not?”

“Because!” I lowered my voice, leaning in. “What if he doesn’t feel the same way? What if he’s been putting up with me this whole time, and now I’ve gone and made it awkward?”

Mayu gave me a deadpan look. “You really think Yuki’s the type to just ‘put up with’ someone? If he didn’t want you around, you’d know it.”

I bit my lip, unsure of what to say. She had a point—Yuki wasn’t the type to fake things. He was brutally honest, sometimes to a fault. If he didn’t want me teasing him, he would’ve told me to stop a long time ago. But still, the thought of actually confessing my feelings made my stomach twist.

Mayu, sensing my hesitation, sighed and reached across the table, giving my hand a reassuring squeeze.

“Look, I’m not saying you need to march up to him and declare your undying love or anything,” she said. “But maybe just… ease up a little. Let him know you’re serious, even if it’s just in small ways. Yuki’s not as oblivious as he looks. If he likes you back, he’ll figure it out.”

I stared at her, wondering how she could be so calm about this. Meanwhile, I felt like my heart was doing backflips just thinking about Yuki.

“Easier said than done,” I muttered.

Mayu shrugged, grinning. “Hey, I’ve got faith in you. Besides, if you keep avoiding him, he’s gonna get suspicious. You don’t want Yuki hunting you down, do you?”

The image of Yuki stalking through the halls, demanding to know why I was acting weird, flashed through my mind, and I shuddered.

“Fine,” I sighed. “I’ll try… something.”

That “something” turned out to be a lot harder than I thought.

Later that day, I found myself standing outside the gym, waiting for Yuki to finish practice. I wasn’t sure what I was doing there or what I was going to say, but I knew I had to do something. I couldn’t keep avoiding him forever.

When Yuki finally emerged from the gym, towel slung over his shoulder and his usual stoic expression in place, I felt my heart stutter.

He spotted me immediately, his dark eyes locking onto mine. For a moment, he didn’t say anything, just walked over and stopped a few feet away, watching me with that unreadable expression of his.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” he said flatly, his voice calm but direct.

I swallowed, trying to keep my cool. “I’ve been busy.”

Yuki raised an eyebrow. “Busy avoiding me?”

I winced. Of course he’d see right through that.

“Okay, fine,” I muttered. “Maybe I have been avoiding you. Just… a little.”

He didn’t respond right away, his eyes narrowing slightly as he studied me. Then, without warning, he stepped closer, his presence looming over me like a quiet storm.

“You’re hiding something,” he said, his voice low, almost accusing.

I shifted uncomfortably, my pulse racing. This was it. The moment of truth. I could either keep dodging his questions, keep playing the game, or I could finally be honest with myself—and with him.

Taking a deep breath, I looked up at him, meeting his gaze head-on.

“Yuki,” I began, my voice shaky but determined. “What if… what if I wasn’t teasing you anymore?”

For the first time, Yuki’s expression shifted. His eyes widened just slightly, surprise flickering across his usually impassive face. But he didn’t say anything, waiting for me to continue.

“I mean…” I fumbled with my words, my heart pounding in my chest. “What if… I actually like you? For real. Not just as a joke, not just teasing.”

Yuki’s silence stretched on, and I felt the panic rising in my throat. What if this was a mistake? What if I’d just ruined everything?

But then, Yuki let out a small sigh, his shoulders relaxing just a fraction. His gaze softened, and for the first time, I saw something like vulnerability in his eyes.

“You really think I didn’t know?” he said quietly.

I blinked, taken aback. “What?”

Yuki shook his head slightly, a small, almost exasperated smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “I knew, idiot. You think I’d let you tease me this much if I didn’t care?”

My heart stopped. Did he just…?

I stared at him, my brain struggling to catch up with what he was saying. “Wait… you knew? And you—”

He cut me off, stepping even closer until there was barely any space between us. His eyes bore into mine, intense but warm in a way I’d never seen before.

“I’m not an idiot,” he said, his voice low. “I’ve been waiting for you to figure it out.”

And just like that, the weight I’d been carrying—the fear, the confusion, the uncertainty—melted away. Because Yuki wasn’t just playing along. He wasn’t just putting up with me. He cared. Maybe even more than I realized.

I let out a breathless laugh, feeling like an enormous weight had been lifted off my shoulders. “So… you’re saying I didn’t need to freak out this whole time?”

Yuki’s smirk only grew as he leaned in slightly, his voice low but amused. “Yeah, you didn’t need to freak out. But it was kind of funny watching you avoid me.”

I felt my face heat up in embarrassment. “Oh my god, you knew I was freaking out, and you just let it happen?”

He shrugged, his expression as nonchalant as ever. “I figured you’d come around eventually.”

I groaned, running a hand through my hair. “Unbelievable. You could’ve at least given me a hint or something.”

“I thought I did,” he said, his tone deadpan. “I told you to show up to my game, didn’t I?”

“That’s not a hint, Yuki! That’s just… normal.”

He tilted his head, considering this. “Not for me.”

I blinked at him, realizing that, for Yuki, inviting me to his game was a hint. It wasn’t like him to ask for things, especially when it came to people. He usually kept his distance, so the fact that he’d made a point of wanting me there… I guess that was his way of showing he cared.

“You’re impossible,” I muttered, though I couldn’t help but smile. “I’ve been driving myself crazy, and you were just sitting back, watching me spiral?”

He gave me a small, almost smug smile. “Pretty much.”

I smacked his arm lightly. “You’re the worst.”

Yuki didn’t flinch, but his smile widened, just the tiniest bit. “And you’re the loudest. Guess we’re even.”

I rolled my eyes, though I couldn’t suppress the laugh that bubbled up. It felt good to laugh, especially now that the tension between us had finally broken. I had spent so much time overthinking everything, and here Yuki was, his usual calm, steady self, reminding me that maybe things didn’t need to be so complicated after all.

For a moment, we just stood there, the weight of unspoken words lingering between us. But it wasn’t uncomfortable—if anything, it felt like a relief. There was still so much I wanted to say, but for now, this was enough.

“So,” I said after a beat, raising an eyebrow. “What now? Do we, like… stop teasing each other? Or is that part of the deal?”

Yuki’s eyes sparkled with something almost mischievous, a rare sight from him. “I’m not sure you can stop.”

I laughed, shaking my head. “You’re probably right. I’m basically a professional at this point.”

Yuki’s smirk softened into something more genuine, and he reached out, brushing a stray strand of hair away from my face. The gesture was so casual, so natural, that it made my heart skip a beat.

“I don’t mind,” he said quietly. “Just don’t avoid me anymore.”

His words were simple, but they hit me right in the chest. Yuki didn’t say much, but when he did, it always meant something. And right now, I knew exactly what he was telling me: that he was okay with all of this. That maybe, just maybe, he felt the same way I did.

I swallowed, nodding as I met his gaze. “I won’t. I promise.”

For a moment, neither of us said anything. We just stood there, the quiet between us filled with an unspoken understanding. Then, as if on cue, Yuki’s phone buzzed, breaking the moment. He glanced at it briefly before looking back at me.

“Mayu’s looking for you,” he said, his expression slightly amused. “She’s probably going to ask a lot of questions.”

I groaned, already dreading the inevitable interrogation from Mayu. “Great. Just what I needed.”

Yuki’s smirk returned, and he stepped back, giving me one last glance before turning toward the gym. “Good luck with that.”

“Wait, where are you going?” I called after him, suddenly realizing that he was leaving me to deal with Mayu on my own.

Yuki didn’t even turn around as he waved over his shoulder. “Practice. You’ll survive.”

I glared at his retreating figure, though there was no real heat behind it. “You’re the worst, Yuki Ishikawa!”

He didn’t respond, but I could’ve sworn I saw the tiniest hint of a smile on his face as he disappeared into the gym.

With a sigh, I pulled out my phone, checking the messages from Mayu. Sure enough, she was blowing up my phone with a series of texts:

Mayu: “Where are you???” Mayu: “You better not be with Yuki without me!!!” Mayu: “Are you hiding something??” Mayu: “Answer me or I’m coming to find you.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. Mayu was relentless, but she meant well. Still, I wasn’t ready for her to grill me just yet, especially when I was still trying to process everything that had just happened with Yuki.

But as I stared at my phone, a small smile tugged at my lips. For the first time in what felt like forever, things between Yuki and me felt… right. There was still a lot to figure out, and I knew this wasn’t going to be easy, but for now, I was okay with that.

After all, teasing Yuki was one thing. But learning to navigate whatever this new thing was between us?

That was going to be a whole new kind of challenge.

And honestly? I couldn’t wait.

#ryujin nippon #volleyball #fanfic #japan volleyball team #yuki ishikawa #ishikawa #au

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