#and I’m like yeah no she/her is actually better

[lulunothulu]

There's not many Glen Powell stories could you do one for me plz:)

So Glen and Reader have been dating about a year. she's not in the entertainment industry she is just a RN he ask her to join him for the press tour for Twitters overseas. She goes with Glen to do some interviews and over hears a conversation where people think she is just with Glen for the money and everyone sees it. She's never asked Glen for money or help but he does occasionally do things for her out of love. She starts to pick up alot of extra shifts at the hospital and dip into her savings to afford all that stuff for the press tour to the point she's passes out one day after working 3 doubles in a row. Glen shows up and ask why she has been working so much and she comes clean about what she heard and how she dipped into her saving to afford the trip. He comforts her and makes her feel better and let's her know he knows she loves him for him and not his money and he asked her to come on the trip bc he wanted her there and he loves her and he loves to spoil her that's not gonna change.

I absolutely LOVE this one 😭 as a former ER worker I live for this.

“Just ordinary”

Glen Powell x Reader

“So Glen,” the interviewer asks. “Who are you bringing to the London premiere?”

Glen smiles, looking behind the interviewer to where you stand with his publicist behind the stage.

“I’m bringing my girlfriend, Y/N,” he smiles, winking in your direction.

You make a mental note to check how much flights would cost but smile back at him.

“Ooo! What does she do? Is she an actress?”

“She’s actually an ER nurse,” he boasts. “I’m so lucky to have her in my life and to be able to feel so safe with her around me.”

“I bet,” they say. “Having someone there to nurse you to health even if you’re not sick must be so rewarding.”

“It is!” He beams. “I love that she takes care of me and makes sure I stay healthy. It also helps when I get injured on the job.”

“That’s so sweet,” they tell him. “Well, that’s all the time we have today. Make sure you catch Twisters in theaters near you!”

After the interview, Glen walks up to where you’re waiting and interlaces his fingers with yours before pulling you close to kiss you deeply.

“We’re almost done, I just have to do some mini interviews outside and then we can head home.”

You nod, and smile up at him. You knew the drill. After an interview inside, there would be fans all over the place, begging for pictures, as well as other interviewers waiting outside.

You follow him out the building and mentally prepare yourself for the screens and flashing lights of cameras. Next to you, Glen holds your hand tightly—not only making sure you’re next to him, but also safe. Glen hands you off to his mom who’s waiting behind him before walking up to some fans.

You smile at Cyndy. “I don’t know how you do it all the time. It’s so loud.”

She laughs. “Yeah I don’t know either. But to see how happy he gets when they all flock to him is the highlight of it all.”

You smile. You knew exactly what that feeling was like. Seeing Glen in his element and interacting with the people that got him to where he is now, felt amazing to watch.

———

You both follow him down the line of people, chatting to each other until you hear someone to the left say something that makes your blood turn cold.

“Yeah, I don’t see what he sees in her,” a teenage girl says to her friend. “She must be searching for money or something because there’s no way Glen would be with someone so ordinary like her. She’s not even that pretty.”

“Yeah, I agree. She seems like such a golddigger. Like where did she even come from?” Her friend responds.

You stop in your tracks at that, Cyndy’s brows furrow in their direction and she wraps an arm around your waist.

“Don’t listen to them. That’s just jealousy talking,” she whispers in your ear.

You only nod, scared if you spoke, you’d cry. Instead, you and Cyndy walk toward the car that’s meant to drive you all back to Glen’s house and wait for Glen there.

By the time he joins you all, you’re barely speaking and holding it together. On the car ride back to his place, you text your charge nurse, Kathy, and ask her to put you in the schedule for the whole week.

Kathy: are you sure? That’s a lot of hours and you’ll be exhausted by the end of it all.

You: trust me, I need the distraction and the money. I’ll be fine.

Kathy: alright, you’re set up for the whole week.

You sigh to yourself, earning a light nudge and smile from Glen.

“Are you okay?” He asks.

You smile up at him and lean onto his shoulder. “Yeah, just got a text that I’ll be working all week.”

“Oh no,” he says. “Can you find a replacement?

“Unfortunately no,” you tell him. “We’ve been so short staffed, they’d barely let me leave for lunch.”

“Hopefully all that overtime means you can come with me to London next week.”

You only smile and nod.

The thing about dating Glen that you never got used to was the way that he’d pay for everything you two did. You knew there was an imbalance when it came to money but never brought it up because he’d always been so happy to pay for everything. But after hearing what those two girls were saying…. Your pride, or something like it, felt like it was wrong to let it continue to happen.

You didn’t want to seem like a gold digger after all.

With this week of twelve hour shifts, you’d be able to afford the ticket, maybe some souvenirs?

Maybe I should text Kathy to set me up for sixteen hour shifts all week.

You text her when you get back to Glen’s place.

———

By the time Wednesday rolls around, you know asking for a week of work plus adding four more hours to your shifts was a mistake.

Glen tried to stay up and wait for you, but he’d be fast asleep in bed by the time you got out of the shower.

On top of not being able to really see him, you yourself were exhausted. Your body becoming so tired, even sitting down was hard because you’d fall asleep. So instead of sitting down during your shift, you’d stand.

At the end of your shift on Wednesday, you could barely keep your eyes open on the drive back home. And when you did get home, you didn’t even bother getting out of your scrubs before collapsing onto the couch and falling asleep.

“This is normal, mom,” you hear Glen say faintly. “She’s working herself to death and I’m just…I’m worried for her.”

The next morning, you rub your eyes when your alarm blares in your ear. Sitting up from the couch, you race to the shower, peeling off your scrubs from the night before, and quickly showering to wake yourself up.

When you step out of the bathroom, you find Glen standing there with a cup of coffee ready for you.

“Good morning, baby,” he says, kissing you.

“Did I wake you?” You ask, taking the cup and sipping.

“No, I’ve been waking up early to make sure you get everything you need for work,” he tells you.

“Thank you,” you smile. You look down at your watch and sigh. “I have to get going.”

“I packed you lunch and extra clothes so that you don’t have to shower when you get home. Maybe you’ll sleep in the bed tonight?” His eyes are hopeful and you can’t help but feel so bad.

He’s doing all of this for you and yet you’re trying to avoid him—to an extent.

“I’ll try to,” you tell him. “I’ve just been so tired to walk up the stairs.”

“Then I’ll set something up for us before you get home,” he tells you. He kisses you before adding, “I’ll see you later.”

———

You’re halfway into your shift when you get the trauma of the day, maybe even the year.

You’re running, trying to grab the necessary supplies you need for the CPR that’s on its way when you suddenly feel the world begin to spin out from under you.

One second you’re stuffing you pockets with extra flushes and vials for bloodwork, the next your vision is blurring and going black.

When you finally wake up, you’re at the hospital still but in a room. The beeping of the monitor next to you grounds you in reality enough look around the room. Glen sits in a chair on the other side of you, worry and fear painted all over his face.

“Glen?” You croak.

“Oh my god,” he says, turning you and grabbing your hand. “Are you feeling okay?”

“For the most part,” you mumble. “What happened?”

“Kathy told me you fainted from exhaustion,” he tells you. “You shouldn’t have been working so many hours so close together. You could’ve gotten seriously hurt. You’re lucky someone was there to break your fall.”

He sighs, running his hand through his hair before asking, “What were you thinking working so many hours for so long?”

“I don’t know,” you lie.

“Yes you do. Tell me,” he urges.

You sigh, rubbing your eyes before looking at him. “I can’t afford to go to London.”

“I’ll pay for your ticket,” he quickly says.

“Glen, I don’t want you to.” This was going to be hard. “I want to pay for myself.”

“I don’t mind doing it, baby.” He searches your face before adding, “There’s more, isn’t there?”

“Yes,” you answer. You squeeze your eyes shut before opening them and taking his hand in yours again. “I don’t want you to think I’m a gold digger.”

“Why would I think that?”

“Because you pay for everything!” You exclaim. “I don’t think it’s fair that you spend money on me and I can’t do the same for you.”

Glen smiles at you, kissing the inside of your wrist. “Y/N, there’s nothing that makes me happier than paying for everything. If I get to spoil you by taking you to London or paying for our dinners and rent, then that means I’m doing my job. I never want you to feel like you’re freeloading or being a gold digger around me.”

He tilts your head back to face him completely before continuing. “Baby don’t ever feel like that’s what you are because you’re not. I’m so grateful to do it for you. In fact, I love doing it.”

“Are you sure?” You ask.

“Very,” he tells you. “So you can stop with the extra shifts. I already talked to Kathy about giving the rest of the week off.”

Tears prick your eyes as you pull him in for a kiss.

“I love you so much.”

“And I love you more,” Glen says. “But don’t do that again. Please?”

You laugh. “I promise I won’t.”

[vmpivory]

UNSCRiPTED ── yang jungwon

★ ——  ‎𝓲N WHICH `⠀◌  rivals l/n y/n and yang jungwon are cast as romantic leads in their school play. with no chemistry and lots of arguing, their teacher suggests fake dating. as they spend more time together, they start to wonder if their feelings are real or just for the play.

✶ - 𝓰𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲 : rivals to lovers , fake dating , fluff , comfort (?) ✶ - 𝓹𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 : yang jungwon x fem reader ✶ - 𝓯𝗲𝗮𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 : minji and hyein ✶ - 𝔀𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝓬𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁 : 2.7k

꒰ ⠀ !  ꒱ . .⠀ 𝔀ARNINGS vulgar language (only used 2-3 times), skinship in some scenes, arguments, bad attempt at humor ( lmk if there are more! ) ..

❪ reblogs and feedback are always appreciated! <3 ❫

L/N Y/N STOOD frozen in front of the cast list, eyes narrowing as she scanned it for the third time.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” she muttered under her breath.

Beside her, a voice snickered. "What’s the matter, y/n? Can't handle the pressure?"

She didn’t need to look to know who it was. The familiar annoying tone belonged to none other than Yang Jungwon, her rival in almost everything. Of course, she would get to play romantic leads with him.

Y/N whipped her head around, glaring at him. "You have to be joking. There’s no way we’re playing the romantic leads. That has to be a mistake."

Jungwon shrugged casually, his lips curving into an annoying smile. "I don’t know. Looks pretty official to me."

"PARK Y/N, YANG Jungwon—my star-crossed lovers! How do you feel about your roles and the script?" Ms. Choi’s smile was wide, far too pleased with herself.

Y/N’s mouth opened, but no words came out. Jungwon, ever the smooth talker, crossed his arms over his chest and fake smiled. "Oh we love it!" Y/N rolled her eyes and elbowed him before answering, "Ma'am there must be a mistake because I really can't pretend I love him. Please, can you change the roles? I'm sure someone else would love to be the male lead." "Hey, if you don't like it why don't you give up your role! I'm staying as the male lead and your role is gonna get changed." Ms. Choi raised an eyebrow, glancing between the two of them. "Now, now, there's no mistake. You two are perfect for the roles." "Ms. Choi, with all due respect, we have zero chemistry. And this script... it's all about chemistry." Jungwon snorted. "Yeah, negative chemistry. Like me and math." "Well, if we were a science experiment, we’d definitely be a total failure." She rolled her eyes. Ms. Choi chuckled, clearly unbothered by their protests. "Ah, but that's the beauty of acting, my dears. Chemistry can be built, just like any good relationship."

Y/N shot Jungwon a death glare. "There's no way I can 'build chemistry' with him." "You guys, look. I had this same situation two years ago. The main leads couldn't even stay in the same room with each other but you know what they did? Fake dating. It helped a lot and the play was amazing. I suggest you two give it a try." Y/N’s eyes widened. "Fake dating? Are you serious?"

Ms. Choi nodded enthusiastically. "Absolutely. It’s a proven method. It’ll help you both get into character and build that on-stage chemistry." Jungwon raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued despite himself. "You think that’ll actually work?" Ms. Choi just nodded with a smile.

Y/N groaned, crossing her arms. "This is ridiculous. But fine, if it means we can avoid turning this play into a disaster, I’ll do it." Jungwon’s smirk turned into a genuine smile. "Great. Looks like you're now.. my fake girlfriend." Y/N glared at him, feeling the familiar spark of rivalry flare up. "Don't think this means I’m going easy on you. I’ll be the best fake girlfriend you’ve ever had. And probably you ever will." As Ms. Choi walked away before smiling, Jungwon turned to y/n with a grin. "Guess we better get used to it. You ready for our first 'date,' sweetheart?"

"Don't push your luck, Yang Jungwon."

Y/N FIDGETED WITH the edge of her jacket as she walked into the small café at the corner of their neighborhood. It wasn’t exactly a romantic spot, more of a hangout place for high schoolers trying to avoid homework. But here she was, on her first fake date with Yang Jungwon, of all people.

Jungwon was already seated at a booth near the window, scrolling through his phone as if he didn’t have a care in the world. He looked up when he noticed her standing awkwardly at the entrance, smirking as he waved her over.

"Right on time, girlfriend," he teased as she sat down, emphasizing the last word in a way that annoyed y/n. She plastered on a fake smile. "Let’s just get this over with. What’s the plan?"

Jungwon shrugged, leaning back in his seat with that same annoyingly calm attitude. "We’re supposed to build chemistry, right? Let’s just act natural. Pretend like we actually, you know, like each other."

Y/N scoffed. "Like that’s even possible."

"Hey, it’s called acting for a reason." "My acting skills are not good enough to pretend I like you." She rolled her eyes. Jungwon grinned, leaning forward on the table. "Come on, it can’t be that hard. I’m pretty likable when you try."

Y/N raised an eyebrow. "Really? I must’ve missed that version of you." He chuckled, completely unbothered by her sarcasm. "Alright, if pretending to like me is nearly impossible for you, let's start with something easier. Like having a normal conversation. Without insults." "Impossible." "I'm starting to think you are not that good at acting." "Okay fine," She sighed in frustration. "I'll try to be less insulting." Jungwon leaned back in his seat, folding his arms. "Now that’s progress. See? We’re already improving."

Y/N shot him a pointed glare. "Don't get too comfortable. This is for the play, not for you. Plus, this play is super important for me." He raised an eyebrow. "I wanted auditioned for an acting agency and they will be watching the play to decide if I'm good enough or not. So I'm gonna be blaming you if I don't pass." Jungwon’s smirk faltered slightly as he processed her words. "Wait, you’re serious? You’re auditioning for an agency?"

Y/N nodded, her expression firm. "Yeah. I’ve wanted this for a long time. This play is my chance to prove I can actually do this, and I can’t afford to mess it up. So, if you screw this up for me, I swear—" Jungwon raised his hands in mock surrender. "Hey, relax. I know we clash, but I genuinely want you to succeed too. This isn’t just about me." She blinked, surprised at his sincerity. "You better." Jungwon leaned forward, his expression getting serious. "Look, I know we don't really get along. But this play is important is important for both of us, especially you. I'm not trying to mess up your chances. In fact, I hope you get accepted." Y/N frowned, unsure of how to response to his unexpected support. "Why are you being suddenly so.. nice?" "Hey, I have a heart too."

"SO," JUNGWON STARTED, breaking the silence as they walked side by side to home, "We survived our first fake date. Not too bad, right?"

Y/N rolled her eyes playfully. "Speak for yourself."

He chuckled. "Ouch. Harsh but fair."

They continued walking in the silence, not having any eye contact.

As they approached a fork in the path where their ways would divide, Jungwon cleared his throat awkwardly. "So, I guess I’ll see you at rehearsal?"

Y/N nodded, feeling a pang of disappointment that the evening was coming to an end. "Yeah. Rehearsal, right."

With a nod, Jungwon turned around and started walking the other way, down the street. 

Maybe pretending to be Jungwon's girlfriend wasn't so bad.

She shook her head, trying to clear it. "What am I thinking?" she muttered to herself, quickening her pace home.

Y/N TRIED TO focus on her lines, but her mind kept wandering back to Jungwon. He was across the stage, laughing with some of the other cast members, looking so effortlessly charming.

"Earth to y/n!" Minji, her friend and fellow cast member, waved a hand in front of her face. "You good?"

Y/N blinked, snapping back to reality. "Yeah, totally. Just... lost in thought."

"About Jungwon?" Minji teased, nudging her playfully.

Y/N shot her a look. "I mean, we’re just... acting. It’s complicated. It feels like I should hate him, but deep down, it’s not that simple."

"CUT!" MS. CHOI called out. "Jungwon and y/n," She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose before continuing. "I still don't see the chemistry. This is our 7th try!"

Y/N shot Jungwon a look, half-exasperated and half-amused. “Sorry, Ms. Choi. We’re really working on it.”

Jungwon leaned closer, whispering just loud enough for y/n to hear. “Maybe we should try to actually like each other for a moment?” She rolled her eyes but felt a smile creeping in despite herself. “Yeah, because that’s so easy right?” “Okay, everyone, let’s take five,” Ms. Choi announced, her tone softer now. “Grab some water and reset your minds.” As the cast split up, y/n turned to Jungwon, crossing her arms. "Can you at least try a bit more? This is important for me, you know!" "I know, I know. I'm trying my best but you should too." Y/N snorted. "I'm already giving my best!" "You are clearly not!" Jungwon shot back. "Maybe if you tried to hide your face expressions, it would be better!" "Or maybe, you are not good at acting as you think you are!" She paused, the air thick with tension. “What did you just say?” Y/N demanded, her voice low. Jungwon took a step back, realizing he had crossed a line. "I meant—" "No, you don’t get to take it back now," Y/N interrupted, her heart pounding. "You think I’m not trying hard enough? I’ve been working my ass off for this role! You know this is important to me!" "Maybe if you weren’t so wrapped up in your own expectations, you’d see that it’s not all on me!" Jungwon shot back. "This isn’t just about you, y/n!" “Alright, let's start again!” Ms. Choi called, her voice cutting through the thick tension in the air. Their five minute break was wasted in a stupid argument, great. Y/N and Jungwon took their positions. “Why can’t you just trust me?” Jungwon said, following the script. “Trust? You’re the last person I’d trust!” Ms. Choi watched intently, a satisfied smile spreading across her face. “Yes! Keep that energy!” She mumbled to herself. For a moment, it felt like they were really connecting. Y/N could see the flicker of something genuine in Jungwon’s expression, and she felt herself relaxing into the performance. But then, as the scene reached its climax, the lines began to blur between acting and reality. “Maybe if you weren’t so self-absorbed, you’d see what’s really happening!” Jungwon snapped, his tone rising, the frustration from their earlier argument spilling over. Y/N's eyes widened slightly. What the hell was he thinking? That was not in the script. She didn't know why and how but she also got out of her character. "Self-absorbed? Says the one with a big fat ego!" Jungwon’s eyes flashed with annoyance, and he took a step closer, his voice lowering dangerously. "You think I have a big ego? You’re so focused on your own expectations that you’re missing the bigger picture—we both want this to succeed." Y/N's heart pounded as the tension between them mounted. This wasn’t acting anymore. Their real feelings—the frustration, the rivalry—were bleeding into the scene. Y/N’s hands clenched at her sides, and for a moment, she forgot they were on stage, with everyone’s eyes on them. "Oh, I’m the one acting like that? Maybe if you weren’t so busy pretending to be cool all the time, you’d realize you're not the center of the universe either!" Jungwon scoffed, taking another step forward, closing the gap between them. "Pretending? I’m not pretending anyt—" “Enough!” Ms. Choi’s voice rang out, breaking the intensity of the moment. She stood up from her chair, clapping slowly, her expression a mixture of amusement and disbelief.

Y/N STARED AT her reflection in the mirror backstage, adjusting her costume for the big ballroom scene. She smoothed down the soft fabric of her dress, trying to calm her racing heart. Tonight was the first full rehearsal with the whole cast, and everything needed to be perfect. The play was tomorrow and this was her chance to prove herself.

But as usual, her mind drifted back to Jungwon.

After the little argument, they went on a few fake dates again. But their chemistry didn't seem to be there, let alone improve. 

"Why do you look so stressed?" Hyein asked, popping her head around the corner. "It’s just rehearsal."

"I know, I know but.. I don't think I'm gonna do well," Y/N sighed, rubbing her temples as the nerves crept in again. "I just feel like something's off. And if I mess this up, I’ll probably never get the chance to be a real actress again."

Hyein stepped into the dressing room, offering her a reassuring smile. "You’ve been doing great so far. Everyone's seen how much effort you've put into this role. You’ll be fine."

Y/N forced a smile but still felt the unease bubbling under the surface. "Thanks, but it’s not just the play. It’s Jungwon."

Hyein raised an eyebrow. "What about him?"

"Since the little argument... nothing’s been the same. We’ve gone on these fake dates, just like Ms. Choi suggested, but it’s not helping. If anything, it’s made everything more awkward. We can barely look at each other without the tension ruining the scene. And—"

"Hey," a familiar voice called out, making them both look away. "Can we talk?"

It was Jungwon.

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat as Jungwon stood at the doorway, his expression unreadable. Hyein glanced between them, giving y/n a knowing look before excusing herself.

Y/N shifted uncomfortably, trying to hide the whirlwind of emotions that surfaced whenever Jungwon was around. "What is it?" she asked, her voice a little sharper than she intended.

Jungwon stepped into the room, closing the door behind him. "I just... I wanted to talk before we go out there. This is the last rehearsal you know, it's important." Y/N crossed her arms, feeling the tension immediately creep back in. "About what? If you're gonna tell me I'm not good at acting again, no thank you."

He hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck—a gesture she’d come to recognize as his way of stalling. "Look, I know we don't really get along and you hate me, I hate you.."

She nodded slightly as he continued.

"..and I know we’re supposed to be faking this whole... 'dating' thing for the play, but I think that’s the problem. We are forcing it a little too much. Just... think of me as the guy you like or something, okay?"

Y/N blinked, her heart racing at Jungwon’s unexpected suggestion. "You mean, just act like we actually really really like each other? You think that's easy?"

"Hey, you're a good actress. You said it yourself." He smiled and chuckled faintly before leaving the dressing room.

Y/N AND JUNGWON stood under a starlit sky, the backdrop of a cozy rooftop terrace adorned with fairy lights and soft cushions. A gentle breeze rustled the leaves, creating a serene atmosphere for their characters.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” Y/N’s character, Liv, gazed out over the city, her voice a soft whisper. “Sometimes, I forget how lovely the world can be.”

Jungwon, playing the charming yet mysterious Johnny, stepped closer. “It is,” he replied, his tone warm. “But it’s even more beautiful when shared with someone special.” Y/N turned to him, her heart racing. "Someone special, huh? You mean like a star-crossed lover?"

"Exactly," Jungwon said, a playful glint in his eyes. "Someone who makes the ordinary feel extraordinary."

"Do you really believe in love like that?” Y/N asked, tilting her head as she searched his face for answers. "What if that star is too far away to reach?" Jungwon took her hands, his gaze intense. “Then I’ll climb every mountain, cross every ocean, and travel the whole universe just to be with that star. Which is you.” "Me?" Without breaking character, Jungwon closed the distance between them, pressing his lips against hers. He was still holding her hand, gently squeezing it. Despite her irritation, a flutter of excitement raced through her as their lips met, leaving her speechless. As they broke apart, the audience erupted in applause. The curtains closed, signaling the end of the play.

"WHAT THE HELL Jungwon?! That was not in the script!"

Jungwon chuckled softly, shaking his head. "I know, dumbass. I did it on purpose."

“On purpose? Are you trying to ruin everything?” Y/N crossed her arms, torn between annoyance and the thrill of what had just happened.

“Come on, Y/N! We’re supposed to sell the romance. That kiss? It was the spark the audience needed! Don't tell me you didn't enjoy it!” Jungwon leaned closer, grinning.

Y/N's expression softened, a soft smile lighting up in her face. "Yeah, I guess I did."

.vmpivory    ©    all rights reserved    ━    2024

AUTHOR's NOTE i've been thinking about this for a while now and i am so excited that finally wrote this !! this is my first work on here so i hope ygs enjoyed it ! so like.. this sucks. but i tried my best TT and yes, i named the girl liv ( WHICH IS ME ) bc i'm delulu like that eheh :D

PERM TAGLiST: @wonsprincess

[kiddiesmores]

Wait hear me out... maybe chef schlatt is showing reader some kitchen stuff one night (I dunno they're making food after closing or something) and she burns herself pretty badly (not like hospital bad but like she's being flirty and accidentally leans on the hot grill, something stupid like that) and schlatt has to like bandage her up. I'm thinking like knuckle kisses after it's all better?

or alternatively...

Readers batting her eyes at schlatt and being her cuteself and he gets distracted and burns himself (swearing ensues) and she takes care of his burn.

I dunno do what you want 😘

this is so real, sorry for taking FOREVER to write about it.

🥥 Bugging Schlatt after closing is so fun because not only are you getting a free meal out of it but you can also flirt without the possibility of anyone walking by!

🥥 It all went down at sauté station, He was listening to you tell a little story about some asshole who stiffed you.

🥥 But you thought he wasn’t listening so you started pouting a bit.

“You hate me, you’re not listening!”

“I am! I’m trying not to burn your food right now!”

🥥 You press your cheek against his arm and he mutters, “Careful.”

🥥 To which you roll your eyes and held onto his side like “I am careful.”

🥥 Leaning up a little to peck at his cheek with free reign since nobody else is in the store.

🥥 And it makes him laugh a little as he moves the pan over to the burner that isn’t on, mumbling about you being a little minx before turning to face you fully and give you a real kiss on the lips.

🥥 And yall were into it!

🥥 So into it that maybe you stepped back against the stove.

🥥 And maybe!! While you were trying to keep up with his now hungry kisses, the hand that wasn’t wrapped behind the base of his neck needed a surface to hold onto.

🥥 And that surface happened to accidentally be the stove.

🥥 “YEOWCH!” you flinch, backing up from Schlatt as you blew on your scorched hand, sucking harshly against your teeth.

🥥 “Shit, are you okay? How bad is it? Cmere let me rinse it off.” He’s immediately putting cold water on your hands at the sink station behind him.

🥥 Tells you to stay put and keep rinsing while he gets burn ointment from the office first aid.

🥥 When he returns he sees you sniffle a bit, and a little pool of tears in your eyes that threatens to fall any second.

🥥 “Hey-hey, it’s okay,” he hushes while turning the sink off, “Come on this will make it actually feel better.”

🥥 Guides you to the expo line, sits you on the counter.

🥥 Tediously applying the burn cream to your hand and wrapping it while you shed a few silent tears.

🥥 He was very gentle, even kissing the now wrapped burn, talking about some, “It’ll heal faster.” which made you giggle a bit.

🥥 You mumble a small ‘thank you’

🥥 Looking down at the wrapped hand with a sigh, “Can’t believe this..”

🥥 “Happens to the best of us, got burned pretty badly couple years ago,” he rolls up his sleeve to show a gnarly scar a few inches shy of his wrist, making you wince.

🥥 He gives you the go ahead to reach out and feel it, snickering when you poked at it like “oooo.”

🥥 “Now we can be burned buddies.” you state, losing the plot and rubbing up his arm and gripping his bicep, making him scoff out a “Yeah”.

🥥 “Feelin better?” he asks softly, making you nod. “Mhm, stings a little but it’s not hurting too bad anymore.” you mumble.

🥥 He nods with a low grunt, inspecting his wrapping skills before gently holding onto the injured hand.

🥥 His eyes light up, “Y'know you can’t carry trays with a wound like this..” he starts.

🥥 Your head tilts, “But tomorrow my regulars come in and they always tip me $50!” you mope.

🥥 He rolls his eyes, “Listen to what I’m saying. I’m off tomorrow.”

🥥 You shrug, making him groan and throw back his head in annoyance that you’re not getting the hint.

🥥 “If I cut you from your shift I can stay with you and..yknow..take care of you” he nods.

“Ohhhhh, why didn’t you just say that!”

“Thought it was implied.”

🥥 He moves to peck at your jaw, making you giggle as his facial hair tickles you.

🥥 Pats your thigh to signal for you to hop down, “Go grab your bag, imma put your food away and we can go.”

🥥 Watching you from behind as you move to grab your tote bag from the little cubby and letting out a low whistle when you bend down.

“Go put my food away!” “Yes ma’am.”

🥥 Waits for you at the door after putting your food in a to-go bowl, holding an arm out for you to grab.

🥥 “How am I supposed to explain how I got this when people ask?” you whine, staring at your hand while he locks the doors.

🥥 Schlatt shrugs, “Say you were trying to be a flirt and ended up searing your skin instead.” “Okay.”

🥥 He laughs, turning and pulling you tight against his side and kissing the top of your head, laughing harder when you grumble for him to get away.

“Hey, don’t be upset, I told you imma take care of you didn’t I?”

🥥 You look up at him for a moment, his stare meeting yours, a wicked smile on his face that gave you butterflies.

🥥 “Oh doctor Schlatt, save me!” you tease, fawning over him as you weakly collapse into his arms with a hand over your head, making his face scrunch while he mumbles about you being dramatic. He lifts you up to carry you the rest of the way to the truck, smiling with a shake of his head when he hears you giggling.

“Thank you for taking care of me.” You mumble, batting your lashes up at him.

He smiles, “Anytime princess.”

[boomboom-tanjiro2019]

Easy

PT. 1 EX! READER X EX! ACE

Description: Angst but also ridiculous-extra stupid-shit. Reader does some wrong but so will Ace. HAPPY ENDING (No one dies and everyone gets what they need in the end) MODERN AU!!

WORD COUNT: 3680

Prologue

“And you are sure you are getting the promotion today?” Nami raised an eyebrow over to you. 

You roll your eyes, “Psh… Nami, you realize who I am right? Cecil adores me, and we already know she’s going to retire. I think she’s calling me in the office because she’s retiring even earlier than accepted, I mean, she’s old as shit.”

“Ugh… she lectured me on how girls her age didn’t wear skirts as short as mine when they were my age… it was below my knee, Y/N. AND I’m not even in the marketing department, I’m in finance, why was she even concerned about me?!”

“Well… when I am Chief of Marketing to take her place, I will instead encourage you to wear sexy outfits, Nami.” You wink exaggeratedly.

Nami smiles and shakes her head, “Flattering, but HR might not find that as entertaining as we do.”

“Oh yeah that’s not good.” You pause and fake sigh, “Our love will have to be hidden.”

Nami sheds a fake tear, “We are like the platonic Romeo and Juliet… you know… without the death… and pedophilia…”

“A shame I think it would add drama and spice … the death part- not the pedophilia, obviously.” You sigh and place a hand on Nami’s shoulder, “We are unintentionally HR’s worst nightmare I think.”

She shrugs, “Jinbei will understand.”

You stop at a large entrance with two tall engraved wooden doors with shiny golden knobs, a small white and black houndstooth placemat in front of the door, looking out of place compared to the modern marble floor, white walls, and bold furniture and paintings along the rest of the hallway. You had felt the peculiar feeling of walking through those doors a million times before, it was like time traveling back 50 years. How Cecil, a woman who had seen the dinosaurs and who did not bear the resolve to advance her views further than the 1700s became Chief of MARKETING for a RESORT company? Well nobody was exactly sure, by all means it made no sense. Cecil liked you because you sucked up to her, but made sure the company still advanced by undermining just about every request she had. In fact you were sure if Cecil were left to her own devices, Sabo and the folks in the law department would be drowning in lawsuits. 

You turn back to Nami one last time, “My outfit look modest enough?”

Nami nodded, “I can’t wait for you to be able to wear clothes that fit. I’ve seen your actual closet…” She raked your body up and down, making sure to focus on the bland gray and horrid shoes. “...This is a crime in comparison. 

“Great. Wish me luck.” You raise up your hand for a high five, to which Nami immediately reciprocates, before stomping off in her purple skirt and blouse with beautiful jewelry that might have given Cecil a heart attack had she seen it. 

You knock on the door, “Chief Brookes?”

“Come in!” Her scraggly voice calls out.

You open the door and step through, careful to shut the door and resist walking down the horrifically long, green brown rug Cecil used to guide a pathway to her desk. 

“Ah. Y/N.” She gives a smile. Though she was around 68, she looked more to be in her mid-fifties. Absolutely gorgeous woman with a smile that makes you feel safe. That is, until she cuts into you with jabs about your work and overall appearance. Not only that, but so terrible at her job that higher management has been waiting for her to retire. They have come to the conclusion that waiting for her to either kick it or retire in an eccentric manner is better than having to fire her. “My favorite protege.”

Only protege. No part of Cecil Brooke’s favor towards you was accidental. Though part of you had to admire Cecil’s spite and lack of tact. Your admiration might be deeper had she actually been good at her job. “Hello Mrs. Brookes.” You carefully walk up to her desk with a polite smile. 

She smiles wider, “You know I’d rather you call me Cecil.” She lies. She enjoys the hierarchy culture. “Sit sit!”

You carefully pull out the chair and sit down. Making a show of laying your hands down in your lap gently, a stark contrast from the person your team has seen these last few years, “Can I ask what you called me in for?"

Cecil nods and her expression hardens. She grabs a tissue box from across her desk and places it in between you two. “Just in case…”

Good sign.

“I called you in here because… very tragically and very suddenly… I have decided to cut my career short.”

‘If she considers that short, I can only grieve for her husband’s self esteem.’

“What?” You make a point of furrowing your eyebrows, “With all due respect-“ which is none. “-You can’t just quit when the company needs you so desperately.”

“I know it’s a lot to take in. You must be shocked.”

“I’m flabbergasted.”

“It’s tragic, truly.”

“Truly” you nod, slowly shifting your expression from false outrage, to false disbelief, to false sadness. 

“Don’t worry.” She reaches her hand over yours, “I will still be here for 4 weeks. I will teach you everything you need to know…”

‘Even better sign.’

“I am… heavily considering recommending you to take on my position.”

You gasp, “Mrs. Brookes! I couldn’t-“

“You can.” She smiles, “With my guidance over the next few weeks, I believe I can teach you my ways. I will be testing you along the way though. It won’t be easy.”

‘Anything is easier than trying to make our marketing department mediocre at best with you rejecting all of our ideas.‘

“I understand. I am honored to be in your thoughts…”

She puts her hand over her heart, “You just remind me of myself so much.” She sighs, “Well then… I guess that’s it. I will follow up with you later.” She shakes your hand.

You say your goodbyes and walk down the vomit inducing carpet. It would be the first thing to go.

“Y/N? One more thing for tomorrow.”

——————————————————————

You stand near the entrance of one of the interview rooms on the first floor. The one HR usually uses for interviews. Today, it was your interview room, along with Cecil’s if she ever decided to show up. The possible employee would be there in 20 minutes, 10 if they decide to be smart and come off as a try hard. Cecil’s favorite breed of person.

“Y/N?” You hear a familiar voice call out. Sabo. Team 5 leader in the law department, brother of two significant people in your life. Luffy and your ex boyfriend. Though it’s apparent your ex refrained from giving details of the relationship’s end by Sabo’s continued comfortability and friendship with you, though this day it didn’t seem so. “What are… you doing here?” He gives a strained toothy smile.

“Waiting for Cecil so we can start this interview.”

“Right… but… wouldn’t the… team manager the position is under be doing the interview?” He stays smiling, though it gets more and more unsettling as he whips his head around, “Isn’t it supposed to be Yamato doing the interview? Where is heeee?” He laughs in a rather scared manner.

“Change of plans. New employee is under my team until further notice.” You raise an eyebrow at him, “Why?”

“…No reason.” Sabo squeaks out, “Bye now!” Just like that, he is turning the corner on his heel as fast as he can. You hear a thud at one point followed by a curse but you try to ignore it.

Cecil appears from around the corner, dressed like a neon Cruella De’Vil. Her makeup masking her natural olden beauty with a clown color palette. She gives you a curt nod and unlocks the door, expecting you to follow along with her actions wordlessly and fluently. Thank goodness after years of staring her down to copy her mannerisms, this comes easy. You both sit next to each other in the room as Cecil decides to speak her first word of the day, “I will finish my section, then you will speak your peace. I will give you a 50% say in this. Since the new graphic artist will be under your team. Your first test is managing a new employee on top of the new marketi-“ something something something.

You just nod and smile until she is interrupted by a knock on the door, followed by a muffled sound sounding like Sabo’s voice saying ‘you can just open it’ whoever it is decided that this is a great idea and finally turns the knob. You glance down at the paper you realize you have yet to read any of or review at all. Drinking with your girls out of excitement took up valuable time. You hear the sudden stop of steps as you stay glued to the page, determined to at least scan over the resume-

Portgas D. Ace: Grand Line Resort, Graphic Artist job application.

No. No. No. You look up to meet the face you’ve avoided for a good 5 years. Chocolate brown eyes, splatters of freckles, muscled physique, bronze skin…

You can’t read his mind but if you could you are sure it would be the same thought as yours.

Fuck.

———-

“Fuck” A man you assume is Luffy’s brother says as he stares at you. Frozen like a deer in headlights.

He was coming out of the bathroom. Quickly going to grab a towel from the hallway closet in the flat he shared with his brothers. How was he supposed to know one of Luffy’s… hot friends would be here? The one he would eye across the one class he had with you during a professor’s boring lecture?

Your eyes unintentionally drift down as you try to comprehend what you are seeing. You quickly regret it. Your eyes dart up and you try to forget what you’ve already seen.

You two make eye contact for a few seconds before he, still wide eyed, closes the door while you dart down the hallway. You aren’t going to forget that first impression anytime soon.

———— 

You remember your first legitimate sight of Ace, a memory that is not helping you in this situation at all. A different memory seems to be playing in Ace’s head by the look on his face as he takes in your appearance. Looking for changes maybe. 

Ace shakes Cecil’s hand casually, but falters when he reaches you. What is he going to do? Pretend like he doesn’t know you?

“Good afternoon. I’m Ace, last name is Portgas.” He smiles at you but you can read in between the lines. He is as unprepared as you are. 

Though Ace is smiling and behaving semi-normal despite the situation, you are sure your body language and facial expressions convey your true thoughts. You sit there still as a brick as Cecil gestures for him to take a seat. 

He doesn’t look at you. Cecil introduces you at one point but his eyes look almost past you. Cecil doesn’t seem to notice anything off about his demeanor, but you do. He runs his fingers through his hair one to many times, his blinking is way too fast, he leans forward too much, and the arm closest to you isn’t on the table like the other one is. Details you aren’t sure how you remember.

Questions go by, when answering Cecil’s questions he turns to your direction but his eyes stare right past you as he answers. As soon as he turns to you his breathing quickens, his hand clenches and his shoulders tense. All things you notice before he turns back to Cecil to make eye contact with her.

Cecil coughs and turns her head in your direction. You know what for, though you’d rather be anywhere but here. You cross your fingers and hope you and Cecil don’t have the same questions since you were not at all paying attention.

“So, Mr. Portgas, how did you hear about this job?” You tilt your head curiously.

He takes a breath as soon as you speak your first word. He looks like he’s holding onto every word as you speak. “My brother works here… he recommended this position because I have an art major.”

You nod. Sabo must’ve been shaken because of you interviewing and having Ace in your team, “Impressive. And what can you bring to the position?” You squint your eyes skeptically

Ace freezes, “I believe…” he loosens his tie nervously.

You glance at Cecil, who is taking note of his behavior. Cutthroat bitch. Part of you is internally celebrating at the prospect of Ace not being a potential employee, but the other half is begging him to get it together.

“I can bring a new and innovative point of view to the team. Though this is my first legitimate office job and that can be a challenge to adjust to… but I’m not worn down from the job or stuck to the old way of doing things because of it.” It’s a decent answer, though Cecil doesn’t seem to appreciate his response.

You can see Ace is overthinking his answer in his mind, though his proud smirk says otherwise. He wants this done as soon as possible. Quite frankly, so do you. “That’s it for me. Thank you.” You say as quickly as possible.

Ace mumbles, “Thank you.”

Cecil didn’t seem too impressed with that either.

…That’s a good thing, yeah?

Cecil’s lips purse as she stares back at him, “Here at Hiraeth Resort, though our other departments may embrace new innovation, I have been sure to play our cards safely by using the same technique all these years. I’m afraid this might not be what you are looking for out of a job.”

Ace’s eyebrows furrow at her response, quickly scanning over your face, searching for something, a reaction to her words. The disbelief that you had confined yourself to a job like this etched across his features. His eyes linger on the bland gray and the jewelry metal that differed from your usual. You told him to never buy jewelry in that color, “I assure you I will do a great job no matter what your focus is.”

“...” Cecil analyzes his response before waving her hand, “That is it for me, we will get back to you at some point. I’m sure somebody appreciates the time you spent in this interview.”

That one stung.

You see Ace’s jaw clench and his features narrow before he sighs, “Thank you for your time Mrs. Brookes and… Ms. L/N.” He sends you a look of deep rooted betrayal masked by a layer of professionalism and longing. You aren’t sure which part of it is worse. 

He reaches for a handshake from Cecil, which she does not reciprocate. He hesitantly reaches out for yours, hand shaky. He starts to pull back after a second, but you reach out to meet his hand. The handshake is brief, but the shiver the contact brings you is downright embarrassing. 

As soon as that door shuts, Cecil turns to you, “Absolutely not.”

“...Why?” You should probably just nod and agree like you would with anyone else, no matter how qualified you believed they were. Something stops you.

She almost laughs, “He’s a disaster, sure some of his responses were decent… but a new point of view? Creativity? His job is to draw designs for the company mascot and posters! Look at this portfolio. ¼ of it is tattoo designs.”

“Everyone starts somewhere. He has a ton of job experience, it’s not all tattoo designs. He’s done posters and logos for restaurants and other businesses.”

“Ah yes, because a former firefighter will be very helpful in this job field.” She reads off the job list on Ace’s resume.

Hot. “It shows determination and sacrifice.” And it’s hot.

“I just don’t think he’s a good fit for the company.”

You fiddle with your rings, a color you despise, but it is Cecil’s preferred metal. “He has potential, I believe.”

She turns towards you, disbelief in her eyes, “You’re really for this guy?”

If she finds out about you two having dated, a clear conflict of interest, your chances at that promotion fly away.

You slowly nod, “I think he could be helped.”

Cecil scowls before sighing, “4 week paid internship, at the end of my time here, I will decide if he gets the job or not. You are in charge of shaping him to my standards.”

Your breath hitches. 4 weeks of constant… Ace? Nightmare, horrible idea.

“...Yes ma’am. I will not disappoint you.”

She grabs her pen and writes something down, “You best not, your job future is riding on the line as well. Dismissed.”

—------------------------------------

Nami waves you down frantically as you are headed to the local coffee shop after work, a distressed Sabo and Koala next to her. 

Nami gestures for you to sit down, which you reluctantly comply with, death staring at all three of them while they give you nervous smiles. 

“You all knew?” You ask.

They nod.

“So did everyone else…” Sabo cringes, “But we didn’t think he was going to be under your team… so…”

“Right…”

“Listen… We know the situation is.. Rocky… but Ace needs the job… and there has been a lot going on for him. He got fired from the fire station after breaking Teach’s arm because he insulted pops.” Koala adds

Thank god he didn’t put the fire station as a reference.

“So far one person is for his hiring and the other wants him as far away from her and her department as possible.” You comment.

You immediately are met with a mix of pleading, disappointment and very subtle… threats? The last from Sabo, mainly.

“Guys.” 

They continue. “GUYS!” Their attention finally is on you, “I am for hiring Ace, it’s Cecil who is against it”

Nami pauses and looks up at you, “...That checks out… actually.”

“I may not want Ace to be in proximity to me, but I won’t deny him a job. He has 4 weeks of a paid internship before Cecil decides if he gets a permanent job or not. Believe it or not, I defended Ace, no matter how-” You sigh, “... He is.”

—-------------------------

Sabo opens the door to Ace’s apartment, watching for a moment as pots and pans are roughly dropped on the counter as Ace stomps from fridge to cabinet to counter. “What.” Ace roughly lets out, not making eye contact with Sabo.

“...How’d the interview go…?” He awkwardly smiles. Ace whips his head up and scowls, the expression on his face giving all answers, “Right…”

Ace exhales deeply, “As soon as I saw her there I just knew… Why would you even let me go if you knew before that it was happening? Life just adores me, clearly. We break up, then I finally find some peace with my firefighting job, now that’s over and I come face to face with her. Waiting for her judgment, jobless, unworthy like some pathetic…! Ugh…” He rubs his temples, “I didn’t even read the email, I don’t want to deal with it. I should’ve just stayed at the tattoo shop, but I need to make enough to travel and… Jesus.”

Sabo stays silent before quietly glancing at Ace’s computer, pictures of your instagram open. He gives a wide-eyed stare back at Ace, who closes it and tosses it on his couch. Sabo ignores it and continues his thought, “Y/N defended you. Cecil despised you, but she says that you are being given a 4 week paid internship. Cecil- Mrs. Brookes- will decide at the end of it whether you actually get the job…” He gives a smile and a shrug, “Do with that information what you will.”

—--------------------------

Reason One to hate Portgas D. Ace:

He’s uncooperative

You point the camera back at the tall tan man across from you, trying to forget you have seen this aggravating man naked on your first meeting, “You realize we are doing this interview for you guys’ sakes right? All freshman basketball players this year. You’re on the starting lineup, so people are actually looking at you. And all the answers you have given me are inadequate.”

Ace leans back in his chair with a sigh, “I don’t see the point, really. I’m not trying to go to the NBA or anything.”

“Why?” You say, intrigued.

“...I don’t know?”

You throw your hands up, “Oh. My. God!”

“Why are you doing this anyway? Shouldn’t some sports journalism majors be doing this?”

“They all got caught using Chegg on their assignments and sharing answers in a group chat, so now me and some other Marketing students with a journalism minor have to do it.”

“...Oh.”

You groan, “Let’s try this again, why don’t you want to do basketball after college?”

Ace inhales, “...I don’t know… I guess… I mean… I like it, but I mostly do it because of the people on the team. Also it’s too much publicity… worrying about stepping on people’s toes and shit. Doing it professionally just seems… wrong… I don’t really know what I want to do with my life that I’d be good enough at…”

You turn off the camera, it didn’t seem like the type of response that should be recorded. For a split second, there was no camera, there was no mini microphone you had attached to his shirt. There was no 5 foot distance between the couch he was sitting on, his posture now up straight. It was just… you and this guy. Granted it was a guy you had first “met” when he was naked coming out of his bathroom, but still. Just you. Just you and ‘Ace’  “...It’s freshman year, you still have some time.” You shrug.

“...Yeah…”

You shake your head and turn on the camera again, “Uhh… now for the other questions.”

[parkersgnome]

⭐️Mima Rants⭐️

I remember coming across slideshow on tik tok this about a year ago, and even *I* (as someone who used to be grossed out by proshipping) thought was ridiculous…

This is the title of the slideshow.

Just a heads up guys, just like our favorite ships, None of these stories are real.

And if they were based on actual events, wouldn’t it make more sense to make a video about that instead of making up shit that never happened?

But, Let’s go through each of these as if they were real stories, shall we?

First one

“Caleb uses the internet to deal with his trauma”, Alright, I’m gonna stop you right there.

Isn’t “Staying off the internet is beneficial for your mental health” something we learned in, idk, fucking grade school? Cyber safety PSAs in middle school? Something that dozens of people have screeched from the top of their lungs since social media was invented?

Who the heck told him that being on the internet was going to help with his trauma and improve his mental health???

His feelings are valid, I get that. He has every right to be disturbed by Sage’s writings and fantasies. However, it seems that Sage isn't encouraging these actions in real life and keeps them strictly within fiction. As long as it’s in text or art, Sage has every right to express his fantasies.

Anyways, Caleb should seek a better therapist who can teach him better coping mechanisms like going out for walks, yoga, baking, or some other fourth thing instead of browsing social media where there’s a good chance he can run into something that makes him uncomfortable.

Next one…

“Jackie is 10-”

Yeah no no no no no no.. no… NO.

10-years-old. That’s, like, what? 4th grade? Shouldn’t Jackie be watching cartoons, playing with toys, or better yet, playing outside? Why did her parents give her internet access? Why aren’t they monitoring what their elementary schooled daughter is watching online?

If Charlie was going out of her way to promote this to minors then I would say she’s in the wrong, but this story never implies whether her content was specifically targeted to and/or letting minors come on to her account.

I've never seen proshippers create accounts specifically targeting children. If Charlie makes it clear her content isn't for kids, then it's not her fault if some random little girl she doesn’t know ends up consuming it.

If Jackie thought this was normal and ended up being groomed/assaulted by her brother, then it is her parent’s fault for neglecting her online safety and allowing her to access adult-targeted content at an age when media literacy is at an all time low.

The last one

“dEGenErates LiKE hiM 🤓” 💀💀

Once again, unless you can present to me a REAL LIFE incest/pedophilia case where proshipping was involved, this is not a valid argument that fiction affects reality.

Alas, we're treating these stories as if they were real. If Trey feels compelled to SA his sister after seeing writings or drawings of problematic ships, this suggests he’s likely an untreated mentally ill individual, especially since he can't differentiate fiction from reality.

What? If Trey played GTA V and started shooting and robbing a bank because he wanted to be like Trevor Phillips, should we consider banning violent video games?

As proshippers, we do not endorse real-life criminals and genuinely terrible people. The essence of proshipping is that all negative or degenerate actions should be confined to fiction. Understand?

End of discussion.

Anyway, as ridiculous as that slideshow was, please refrain from harassing or bothering the artist who made it. They have the same freedom of speech we do, and stooping to harassment and bullying wouldn't make us any better than antis who promote such behavior.

[peachysunrize]

[ TANGERINE DREAMS ]

Summary: being stood up on his wedding day, Aemond’s life takes a turn for the worse. Heartbroken and humiliated, he finds unexpected help in Helaena’s childhood friend, who helps him move back into his family mansion. Summer cocktail parties and a long stay at the Targaryen residency, Aemond might let the girl who’s always been in his life make a home in his heart.

Tangerines, in general, symbolize prosperity, good luck and happiness. So if these delicious fruits appear in your dreams - whole or in the form of juice - it is usually very positive. A dream with tangerines expresses the desire and the possibility of progress and prosperity

Warnings: none! A bit of angst, mentions of Aemond’s eye pain, flufffff✨

Word count: 5.6k+

A/n: soooooooo what do we think??👀 shit’s bout to hit the faaaan🙂‍↕️🤭 reblogs and comments are so appreciated!💕🥹 also a special thank you to @namelesslosers & @catinapottedplant for beta-ing this for me<3333

Taglist: it’s closed<3

-> series masterlist <-

Chapter 7: country club

“It feels like we’re on a secret mission,” you say as you walk hand in hand upstairs towards Alicent’s study with Helaena.

“You know she only allowed me once in this room? The boys aren’t allowed even near the stairs,” she scoffs and you nod at her, knowing how Aegon would probably turn into a kid all over when he steps into a new area. “But to let you inside this room… she either wants to fuck you over for shagging her son or something serious is happening.”

“Alicent fucking me over isn’t serious in your humble opinion?” you ask her, shaking your head when she grins at you. “You’re exactly like Aegon, carbon copy.”

“How dare you?” she gasps, leading you to the end of the hallway. “Aegon is a whore, a lovely one, but still a whore.”

“I didn’t mean that you are one too, what do you take me for?” You nudge her with your elbows, giggling as you walk closer to the door at the end of the path. “I mean you guys are just chaotic! Both of you think your Mum is too dangerous and at the same time she’s a saint.”

“Don’t worry, gorgeous. I’ll back you up in there if she brings up Grandpa and how he says a new relationship is bad for Aemond.” She pats your head and you gawk at her.

“Bitch, you better,” you slap her hand away playfully. “You set us up, I’m gonna snitch on you if your Mum says anything about this. Also… why is it a bad thing for Aemond to move on?”

“That’s… we’ll talk about it later, yeah?” she says awkwardly, knocking on her mother’s study door before she pushes it open, “Oh! Well… morning, Mum.”

“Hi, hey!” Alicent clears her throat as she tries to appear busy with a line on her wooden desk while Criston turns his back to her and looks out of the window, both of them flushed and blushing. “Morning, girls!”

“Hi, Ali,” you look between the couple, watching with amusement as Helaena tries to stifle her giggles and Alicent is nearly fainting with how red and ashamed she looks. “How are you doing on this fine morning?”

“Amazing!” She claps her hands, and sits down on the chair and points at the loveseats in front of her desk. “As you know Aemond’s birthday is in a few days, three to be exact, and I thought we should do something special for him. I mean, as special as he lets us…”

“I don’t remember if I’ve ever been to one of his birthdays,” you shrug. “So, what is the plan?”

“You know we already have our wine selection, we even told him that it will be for his birthday. But… I was thinking about hosting this party in the Targaryen country club.”

“Wow—“

“Are you serious, Mum? Like actually fucking serious?” Helaena cuts you off, her blonde brows twisting in a deep frown. “You’re joking.”

“Hel—“

“No, you know how he feels about them! You know this and you wanna torture him!”

“What? What’s going on?” you ask, trying to intervene in the situation before Helaena says something she might regret later. “Is there going to be someone other than us?”

“Listen to me, my loves,” she sighs and looks at Criston pleadingly before she averts her Bambi eyes to you, “my family is rich enough to buy thousands of these clubs, but during my divorce with Viserys… his one and only condition was that we couldn’t have access to the club without telling him or Rhaenyra first.”

“Basically, she has to invite them all because of a stupid fucking belief when she knows how much pain they have caused Aemond!”

“Helaena.” Alicent’s voice echoes in the room, and for the first time you see how your best friend shrinks from her mother’s gaze. “Darling girl, I will only tell them about a gathering, nothing more or less.”

“Why do you wish to throw this party there?” You reach to hold Helaena’s hand and she squeezes yours in gratitude, helping her calm down a little bit. “I mean we can do this somewhere else! Maybe a party on your family yacht!”

“Because Aemond is a man of history, and that club has been passed on from generation to generation. It holds kind of a legacy for Targaryens. And knowing Aemond and where he decided to get married, I think he will love it.”

“Yeah, he will if the person who cut his eye out doesn’t show up,” Helaena sighs, rubbing her forehead, “Listen, Mum, I love you and I really respect you but… come on, Aemond will not like it if Rhaenyra shows up, nor will any of us! I don’t think he wants to see eye to eye with Viserys after how his wedding turned into shambles.”

“I’m not inviting them, I’ll just text your father’s assistant to tell him we’ll be there. I doubt he wants to join us anyway…” Alicent rests her forehead on her hands, and in an instant, Criston stands next to her, rubbing her shoulders soothingly. “Thank you.”

“Does this party have a theme or a dress code?” you ask, leaning back on the seat, trying your best not to show your excitement for your boyfriend’s birthday party.

“It will be a formal gathering, a cocktail party of sorts. Luxurious, comfortable, and a bit of a show-off because my father will join us and he is all about image and reputation, so there will definitely be a few photographers. Oh, and my brother will join us as well!”

“Finally meeting this ultra-rich Uncle Gwayne,” you chuckle, nodding at Alicent. “I hope gifts are allowed.”

“Aemond hates gifts—“

“Let her buy something for him, maybe someone out of the family will change his mind, yeah?” Helaena comes to your rescue, winking at you and squeezing your hand, “Besides, Uncle is going to give him something mind-blowing anyway.”

“Alright, but you will handle his attitude yourself,” she points at you, glancing at Criston, who is silently listening to the conversation. “So, the country club, Rose wine, formal clothes, one single gift from you, and a good few days spent together.”

“I’ve never been to a country club!” you acknowledge, already excited for the next few days you will be spending with the Targaryens. “What should I even pack?”

“Can I pack your clothes? Please? Pretty please?” Helaena begs you, pulling you up on your feet quickly before you both wave goodbye and leave Alicent’s study. “You're gonna be so surprised to see what I have bought you now!”

“You’re so fucking crazy.” You both laugh quietly as you walk past Daeron’s room. “Alright, you can pack my bags. But I’m just gonna—“

“Go, go! Go check up on your man, babe.” She kisses your cheek before she departs from you, skipping toward her room to grab a few things to bring for you.

With a soft sigh, you walk downstairs, moving through the endless hallways of the mansion, and finally reaching Aemond’s room. Knocking on his door gently, you wait for a response, but then you only hear a groan in what you can only assume is pain.

“Little Nerd?” You slowly push the door open, finding Aemond curled up on his side, clutching his duvet hard in his fists. “Baby, are you alright?”

You approach him, padding towards his bed as he trembles slightly, his breaths coming out quickly and unevenly, and with worry, you crawl on his bed behind him, gently brushing his long hair off the spare pillow to rest your elbow on it.

“Hey…” you lean over his face; he is flushed, his good eye is closed and the other is an empty socket. You brush his hair out of his face, caressing his head as gently as you can.

“Darling?” he calls for you, his voice fragile and quivering. You press a kiss on his clammy forehead, rubbing his arm to soothe him a little, finally understanding what he must be dealing with.

“How bad is the pain?” You scoot closer, resting your head on his shoulder while you rub his arm, reaching to caress his fist gently, trying to open his fingers without bothering him. “What can I do for you?”

“Just… just leave,” he says through gritted teeth. “I’ll be fine.”

“I know you will, but let me help you, yeah?” you try to convince him, snaking your arm behind his neck, gently rolling him over so there is no weight on his damaged eye. “Come on.”

“I always do it alone, I think I can cope—“

“I know you do, and I’m proud of you for that,” you cut him off before his pain turns into anger, “but you don’t have to do it alone anymore.”

“I-I forgot to put my eyepatch on—“ He tries to sit up and move away from you but you wrap your other arm around his middle and keep him on the bed. He can easily push you away, but when he doesn’t, you sigh in relief and pull him down so his back rests on your chest, his head tucked in your shoulder.

“Alys… she used to give me head massages,” he whispers, closing his good eye as he slowly lets his body relax in your arms, the pain of his eye still lingering in the empty socket. “Probably the only thing she did without demanding anything in return.”

“Would you like me to do the same?” you ask, pulling the duvet on top of you, cradling his head in your arms. “Or, I can apply some of the creams you have put there.”

“My head is killing me,” he groans again, turning in your arms to lay his head on your chest, and you tuck him under your chin, holding him close as he grabs your waist. “I forgot to take my meds last night…”

“Oh no.” You squeeze him in your embrace, pouting a little as he battles with the agony. “Tell me how I can help you, maybe I can do something to ease your pain.”

“You can’t do anything,” he sighs and looks up at you, reaching to cup your cheek. “Just stay here, the pills will kick in in a few minutes.”

“Okay,” you rest your hand on top of his, bringing his palm to your lips to press a gentle kiss on it, smiling down at him softly, “Do you wanna talk about something?”

“Yeah, what should we talk about?” He rests his head back on your chest, closing his eye as he listens to your breathing.

“Hmm, maybe your birthday?”

“Not a fucking chance—“

“Oh, come on, don’t be a bummer! You're gonna be twenty-six in a few days! That’s exciting,” you chuckle as he groans and hides his face in your dress, smothering himself between your boobs, “and get your face off of my chest. I know your game, Targaryen.”

“Stop calling me by my last name,” he groans, wrapping his arm around you to hold on to you tightly as a new wave of pain rushes through his nerves. “Fuck—I wish I could die.”

“Hey, look at me,” you look at him seriously, craning his neck to force him to look at you, “I know the pain is bad, my darling, I know… but you will get through it, you have done it before, you will do it again. Don’t you dare say you wish to— fuck I will never forgive you if you say that again.”

“I’m so sorry,” he says quietly, his grip tightening on you as you lean down to kiss the bridge of his nose. “I shouldn’t have said that…”

“Don’t be.” You prep his cheek with kitten kisses. “As long as you have me, I won’t let anything happen to you. Also!”

“No, please—“

“We should pack your clothes! Oh, I’m gonna have so much fun giving you all of my attention on your birthday!” You squeal when he flips you both over, covering the empty socket of his eye before he leans down to kiss you.

Your lips move in sync, slowly and passionately, yearning for more, but you know Aemond is not in the right place to give in to your urges. Instead, you reach to remove his hand from his face after breaking the kiss. 

“Don’t hide yourself from me, baby.” You kiss him this time, letting him slowly relax and get comfortable. He kisses you back, and finally, his pain subsides.

“This is— wow!”

You look around as Aemond drives through the gates of the country club, his free hand mindlessly caressing your thigh. It is a shock that he decided to drive at nighttime, as he mostly lets someone else do the driving at such an hour, but you can sense his nervousness grow with each passing second.

“I know, it’s fucking huge,” he mumbles, rounding the steering wheel as he drives to the parking, stopping the car in front of the doorman. “Good evening, sir.”

“Good evening, Mr. Targaryen.” The man nods at Aemond and you, opening the door for him before he is handed the keys to the car.

You watch Aemond walk towards you, opening the door for you before he realizes his mother is right behind his car, stepping out of the SUV with Cole’s help. You pat his shoulder, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek before putting some distance between the two of you, waiting for others to join you and him.

“It’s gorgeous,” you exclaim, looking at the entrance of the building; just as Aemond said, the building itself is huge, but the area leading to it is just as beautiful and wide. You loop hands with Helaena as the group walks upstairs towards the door. “How come we have never come here?”

“Well… Viserys comes here nearly every week. I think Mum didn’t wanna see him at all,” she shrugs. “Anyway, his first wife was obsessed with this place. Not gonna lie, there is a huge portrait of her somewhere in the dining hall… used to make Mum so sad when she caught him staring at her more than glancing at her.”

“Wow, what a piece of shit.” You grimace, giving her an apologetic smile. “Sorry, babe, he’s just… an ass.”

“Don’t worry, no one hates him more than your boyfriend,” she whispers, and you let out a sad chuckle, knowing how much damage he has done to Aemond.

“I might though,” you squeeze her arms, watching as some people open the door for you. “I wanna curse him for hurting my best friend and my man.”

“Oooh, since when?”

“Since the day we fucked—“

“Forget I fucking asked.” She slaps your shoulder playfully, dragging you inside the building. “Welcome to the Targaryen country club!”

“It’s a shame how I’ve never been here,” Helaena rolls her eyes, “but thank you. This is more than I can ever dream of.”

“Alright, we’ve got two days before Aemond’s birthday! Sleep well tonight, and tomorrow, I’m sure you’ll enjoy your stay here,” Alicent says and kisses all of you goodnight, and Criston follows her towards the room.

“So, lovers,” Aegon starts, wrapping an arm around Aemond’s shoulders even though he has a hard time reaching his height, “you gonna share a room orrrr—“

“I’m gonna show her around,” Aemond extends his hand for you to take, and you let go of Helaena to reach for him, letting him pull you in his arms as he shrugs Aegon off of him, “and you better shut your mouth about this.”

“I saw nothing,” Aegon throws his hands up, looking at Daeron and Hel, who just nod and shoo you away. “Have fun!”

“They are annoying,” he sighs as he pulls you away from them, walking through the large room with portraits hanging off the wall, leading you to the door which opens to the paths ending with tennis courts, a large swimming pool and a lake nearby.

“How are you feeling?” you ask him, wrapping your arms around his torso, resting your head on his chest. “Are you excited for your chic birthday?”

“Hmmm.” He rests his chin on top of your head as you both walk between the tennis courts. “Not really, at least I have you here. That’s something I look forward to.”

“I’m glad I’m here too.” You reach a path that’s decorated with willow and other trees, leading to a large golf area. “I like it when I’m with you, I feel… I feel like I can breathe.”

“That’s an exaggeration,” Aemond chuckles, kissing the crown of your head, “but I feel the same. There are moments I think I am a better person when I’m around you; less stoic, less uptight.”

“Nope nope, it’s my turn to tell you about how I feel.” You pull away from his embrace, grabbing his hand to step off of the path and walk between the trees. “I’ve never been in a relationship that allows me to be free this much. There’s always been a leash on me and my interests, and to be fair, I’ve never dated someone younger than me.”

“Why the sudden doubt in our age gap?” Aemond asks, a shuddering smile on his face. “Does it bother you?”

“What?” You turn around immediately to look at him, sighing before reaching to cup his face. “No, no, of course not! It’s actually something that crossed my mind a second ago. Two years is nothing, especially when I feel so safe and appreciated when I’m by your side.”

“I just— it’s difficult,” he sighs and rests his hands on your hips. “For me, not-not you. I… I think about how things would have turned out if I was never dumped. I’d never find something more than a friend in you.”

“It’s difficult for me, too.” You caress his cheeks. “This feeling… isn’t meant to be easy. It feels right, I mean what we have is right, despite the odds. You’re fresh out of a relationship that lasted so long, and I’ve been your sister’s friend for so long. It’s kind of sad that if your ex didn’t run away, I wouldn’t be able to even kiss you. That makes me so fucking emotional.”

“Yeah, the heartbreak is still there inside me, somewhere I can’t really reach but I feel it somewhere, more than I’d like to admit. Not because I think about Alys, no, but… did I really deserve that? I absolutely adore you, I can’t put it into words, but I’m lucky to find something—someone worth risking my life for.”

“You don’t know it yet, but you have a tendency to make me melt with your words. It’s annoying, really, how impactful you are.” You make him chuckle, and he dips his head down to kiss you quickly. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Why are your Mum and Grandpa against our relationship?”

“Well,” he clears his throat, his grip tightening on your hips, “I know Mum loves you, and she’ll approve. No doubt about her, but Otto… well… he cares about our reputation so much. After the wedding, he’s been reaching out to us nonstop. He wants to make sure the world, or specifically, Rhaenyra and Viserys, know that we are in good shape. Me getting into a public relationship is just… so soon.”

“I understand… okay, so you don’t wanna tell others just yet, right?” You lean back on one of the trees, wrapping your arms around Aemond’s neck. “I was curious, I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable—“

“Hey, no, absolutely not.” He steals a quick kiss from you, caging you with one hand on the tree and the other on your waist. “I’m glad you asked me. I don’t want you to think I’m keeping you hidden from everyone. I’m proud to be with you, and I would show you off to the world the moment I could.”

“Alright, I’ll keep my hands to myself.” You giggle when he nudges his nose against yours. “I wanted to also let you know that your father and sister might join us here.”

You see how he visibly tenses, jaw clenching as he thinks about the last time he saw them — the failed wedding. 

“Whatever,” he says through gritted teeth, pulling away from you to take a deep breath, his hands on his hips as he looks up at the sky.

“Aemond, I tried to say something so your Mum would kind of ditch them, but—“

“I know, I know, don’t worry.” He is quick in reassuring you that he knows why they might show up. “Nothing we can do about it now.”

“Come, I wanna spend one night without anyone bothering us,” you say and he agrees, intertwining your fingers as you both walk inside the building, enjoying a quiet night together.

“All I’m saying is that tea is the solution to all of your problems!” Helaena says, crossing her legs as she sips on her morning tea. The sun shines at the grounds of the country club, and Hel’s suggestion to have breakfast in one of the many balconies is extraordinary.

“Bold of you to say that in front of a coffee person,” you reply and reach for your cup. “Also, thank you so much for packing these clothes! I had no idea I owned them.”

“Well, I can't let my bestie stay in our cultural country club without aesthetic clothes—oh, good morning birthday boy!”

“It’s not my birthday yet.” Aemond appears behind you, kissing the top of your head. “Morning, darling.”

“Hi, handsome.” He bends down to kiss you slowly, making Helaena gag once more. “Why do you look so disgusted? You’re not a virgin, I’m sure.”

“Yeah, well, maybe because I grew up with her and you at the same time. And I’m older than both of you and single. Do you see how horrible I must be feeling?” 

“Cut the crap, Hel, I know you’ve been in a very, very steamy friendship with the Stark boy. You ain’t fooling no one.” She turns to you, gawking at you while her cheeks get covered in crimson red, blushing as she looks down at her tea. “Besides, he is hot—“

“I beg your pardon?” Aemond says, frowning at you and you are quick to chuckle and pull him down again, kissing him languidly. “I’m just trying to make her feel better. No one is near as hot as you are, Little Nerd. You are my one and only.”

“Alright, alright, we get it, now sit and eat something. Mum said something about guests coming over today,” Helaena says, and you watch how Aemond’s smile fades slowly. He nods silently and sits down in front of you, taking a sip from the coffee he is sure you made for him as he grows quiet.

“Aemond…” Helaena reaches and squeezes his shoulder. “I know how you feel about them, fucking hell, even I don’t want them around, but it is what it is. Just—I’m begging you, don’t make a scene.”

“As if the last time they didn’t provoke me.” He taps his foot on the ground, sipping on his drink before he sighs and pats his sister’s hand. “I won’t talk to them, don’t worry.”

“I’m worried about you, not them, sweet brother.” She smiles at him sympathetically. “They have the tendency to get under everyone’s skin.”

“Not yours though.” Aemond grabs your hand and caresses your knuckles while he talks to Helaena. “You seem to like them anyway.”

“Right, because I danced one time with Jace shows how much I adore them—“

“You had Aegon vibrating in his seat from anger.”

“Protective much?” you comment, and Aemond shrugs but matches your teasing smirk. “Is it a quality in Targaryen men? Should I be worried?”

“Yeah, if you’d like me to not go to jail.” Helaena scoffs at him, and he continues, “I’d probably kill the man if they lay a hand on you.”

“That’s so fucking hot, but please don’t kill anyone, I need you around.” You lean forward to capture his lips in a kiss like you always do, but pull away quickly so Helaena can have a peaceful moment. “Who are your guests anyway? Besides your father and sister.”

“Grandpa will be here too. Daemon, I think? Oh, and there is a good chance Uncle Gwayne will join us tomorrow!” Helaena explains.

“It doesn’t matter, because I’m gonna take you away from these people the moment we are done saying hi.”

“How charming, Aemond.” You grin at him, hearing the sounds of Aegon’s quick steps reaching the balcony.

“Morning, morning.” Aegon bows dramatically. “Anyway, our precious, most gracious guests have arrived. You won’t believe how horrendous Viserys looks. It’s like a snake has been eating him inside out, it’s fucking creepy.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t say that about our father, Egg.” Helaena stands up and helps you up too, looking between you and Aemond. “Don’t give them a reason to make our lives a living hell. You can disappear when we go outside, yeah? Just not now— and you! Keep your hands to yourself.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” Aemond nods and with one last reassuring smile, you all step off the balcony, and you watch how Aemond’s walls are back up as he walks downstairs; his face is stoic, emotionless as if he wasn’t grinning a second ago. He walks with his hands locked behind his back, his shoulders rolled back and chin held high. You can see no trace of emotion in him anymore.

“There they are,” Alicent says, her voice soft and welcoming, but everyone can feel the discomfort under it. “Morning, my loves. Come, let us—“

“Yeah, yeah, thank you.” With a wave of a hand, Viserys dismisses the group entirely, limping towards the dining hall with his cane.

“I apologize, Father is really not doing well,” Rhaenyra tells Alicent, a polite smile on her face. “He is more weary than ever. I hope you understand.”

“He could have said a normal hello, couldn’t he?” Aegon sneers, leaning against the wall as he watches everyone.

“Aegon, please.” Alicent looks at her oldest, and once you look down, you see how her nails are bloody and raw from being picked at. “I hope you enjoy your stay here.”

“We will, thank you.” Rhaenyra glances at Helaena, giving her a small smile, before she looks at Aemond. “It is nice to see you well, brother. The marriage stunt was pretty horrible. I’m glad you are well enough to host a party.”

“Yeah, one would think two months after a horrible breakup, he would be in ruins.” Daemon’s booming voice echoes in the hall, and your arm tightens around Helaena’s as you watch how he smirks, his and Rhaenyra’s kids coming into view shortly. “The bridesmaid is here too, I see. You have got good company, nephew.”

“I do,” Aemond replies with the coldest voice you have ever heard from him. You watch him breathe softly, masking his feelings easily, but he is an open book to you; he is nervous, a bit angry, and the tension in his jaw and shoulders are evident.

“It’s nice seeing you again, Mr. Targaryen,” you say quickly, not really thrilled with how Daemon gives you an overall look, his smirk widening as he chuckles.

“Yes, yes, very nice,” he looks at Rhaenyra and extends his arm to her. “Shall we, niece?”

“Of course,” Rhaenyra answers and looks at Alicent. “We will not be joining you for lunch. I wish to show the kids around.”

“Make yourself at home.” Alicent nods politely, glaring at Argon before she sighs and reaches to grab Aemond’s arm. “Darling, don’t listen to them, alright?”

“Yes, Mum,” he nods, his fingers fidgeting behind his back. “Don’t worry.”

“Wow, Helaena, you are glowing.” Jace, you remember Hel telling you about him, approaches the two of you. “You look resilient—“

“Back off,” Aegon snaps, pushing himself off the wall, but Daeron is quick to wrap his arm around Aegon’s shoulders to keep him away from his nephew.

“Thank you, Jacaerys,” Helaena responds politely, but grins when she sees her cousins. “I’ve missed you two!”

Baela and Rhaena step forward, and your best friend lets go of your arm to hug the twins.

You glance at Aemond, finding him staring at his nephews while they greet him not-so-enthusiastically, and you take the chance to step in and comfort him with just having his back.

“Hi, I’m Helaena’s friend.” You shake Jace’s hand, but when you see his younger nephew smirking a bit too maliciously, you back off and stand next to Aemond.

“Yeah, I think I remember you!” Jace exclaims, smiling politely as he tries to engage in a conversation with Aemond, but he only replies with low hums and nods.

“I remember you too! At my uncle’s wedding, right?” The younger one whose name you do not remember says, reaching to shake your hand. “Lucerys, pleasure to meet you.”

“Nice to see you.” You give him an awkward smile, remembering that he was the one who got into a fight with Aemond when they were kids, sighing when the images of that night play in your mind.

“Babe! Come, come, meet Baela and Rhaena!” You pat Aemond’s arm, lovingly mumbling a quick ‘later’ before you walk towards Hel and hug the twins quickly, enjoying how spiritual they are.

“How about we go and take a quick walk around the building? Maybe we can settle for a game or two!” Daeron says, clapping his hand as he tries to break the tension between his siblings and nephews. 

“I’m gonna go for a ride,” Aemond announces, moving away without waiting for any response, but stops and looks at you. “Have you seen our stables?”

“The stables?” you ask quietly, and when Aegon nudges you from behind, you catch up on Aemond’s thoughts, biting the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from grinning. “No! No, I haven’t! I would love to though!”

“Alright, let’s go.” Aemond walks upstairs, and with an apology you bolt upstairs, following Aemond to his room so he can change, but he stops you and kisses you quickly when you are out of sight. “Wait here, we don’t want anyone to be suspicious, yeah? I’ll be out in a second.”

“Okay.” You peck his lips again before pushing him inside the room gently. “Go, go, can’t wait to see you in your riding clothes!”

He only winks and smiles, shutting the door. He changes into his riding leather pants and black shirt, pulling on his knee high boots before he ties his hair in a ponytail.

“Fuck me.” You eye him when he steps out, biting your lip as you rest your palms on his chest, running them down his body as you ogle at his tight pants, enjoying how delicious he looks in his riding clothes. “Why have you been hiding this from me, handsome?”

“Because I knew how much of a pervert you are, darling.” You notice how less nervous he is now, and you kiss his jaw, pressing yourself against him as you wrap your arms around his neck.

“Glad you are aware of how much I like to fuck you, because right now, nothing seems as wonderful as making you hard in these clothes.”

“You’re a fucking tease,” he groans against your lips. “Stop torturing me.”

“Never. Now come on, I believe you owe me a tour of the stables!” you say, letting him pull you downstairs by the hand, looking around to see if someone is around before he leads you to another path. You walk in a comfortable silence, enjoying the warmth of the sun on your face as you walk hand in hand.

“This is my other lady,” he tells you as you walk through the stable, stopping in front of a black mare, running his palm over its long neck. “She doesn’t have a name, unfortunately. Nothing fits her.”

“She’s gorgeous.” He reaches for your hand, gently placing it on the mare’s back, rubbing it softly. “Will you bring her out now?”

“Would you like me to?”

“I would love it very much!” You step aside as Aemond pushes the wooden door open, grabbing his horse’s reins to guide her outside the stables, and you follow him, watching as he mounts the black mare, and bolts his horse to the field. Someone opens the fence for him and he rides through it.

You rest your hands on the fence, smiling at the sight of him rounding the field with his horse, sun shining bright on his silver hair, casting an angelic glow on his face. “You’re doing amazing, sweetie!” 

He smiles at you, stopping in front of you before he points for you to hop over the fence and you do hesitantly, stepping next to his horse.

“Come on, ride with me.” He reaches for your hand, pulling you up with ease, making room to help you sit in front of him. “I remember how scared you were the first time you caught me in our old stables.”

“Please, don’t remind me!” you laugh, throwing your head back on his shoulder. “It was horrendous! I nearly let your father’s stallion stomp on me.”

“Yeah, well, I saved you, so you can thank me for that,” he whispers in your ear, kissing the side of your neck. “Do you wanna step down? I feel you shaking.”

“I’m shaking because the amount of affection I have for you is too intense.” You crane your neck to look at him, and he pulls on the reins to stop the horse as he looks down at you.

“How bad is this affection?”

“So bad that I wanna kiss you in front of everyone.” He leans down, resting his forehead on yours. “Maybe later, yeah?”

“Yeah, you handsome idiot, now kiss me when no one is watching.”

He does kiss you, but unbeknownst to you, there is someone watching.

[lulujeno]

crush culture — lee jeno ᡣ𐭩

summary : liking jeno was a mistake. kissing him didn't make it any better.

warnings : mentions of alcohol/drinking, kissing, cusswords, angst!! (this does not portray how the idols are irl, all the things here are written to match the song crush culture by conan gray!!)

wc : 6.3k

a/n : reader uses she/her pronouns !! jerk!jeno and bestfriend!mark :D thank u for 100+ followers ~~ cant believe i managed to pull out more than 5k words out of my ass >< my finals are currently happening so that's why i've been ia for soooo long :( i promise when i'm done i'll be clearing out both my drafts and requests ^^

Seeing your best friend, Belle, flirt with Jeno on your couch hit harder than you ever expected. The way they leaned into each other, laughter spilling from their lips like a sweet melody, made your stomach churn in a way that felt foreign and unwelcome. You had no right to feel this way, not when you knew about her crush on him. You had even agreed to be her wingman tonight, setting up this moment so she could finally have her chance. But somehow, along the way, you fell for him too, your heart weaving itself into a tapestry of unspoken feelings and bitter regret.

You should feel happy for her, after all her efforts to catch his attention, but the tight knot in your chest made it impossible to be anything but miserable. “It’s fine. Be happy. It’s your birthday, after all,” you whispered under your breath, trying to convince yourself. The words felt heavy, lacking the enthusiasm they were meant to carry. You exhaled a shaky breath before heading to the kitchen, desperate to escape the sight of them together.

The kitchen was warm, filled with the faint scent of alcohol and fruity punch hanging in the air like an unwelcoming fog. Mark stood by the counter, effortlessly mixing drinks with an ease that told you he’d done this a hundred times before. He glanced up as you entered, and a flicker of concern passed over his face when he caught sight of your downcast expression. He flicked his eyes toward the living room, and you knew he had noticed. Most of your friends knew about your crush on Jeno. It wasn’t something you talked about much, but the way your eyes lingered on him said enough.

“You okay?” Mark asked, his voice low, but the concern was clear, filling the space between you like a fragile glass.

You could only shrug, unsure of how to explain the whirlpool of emotions churning within your chest. It felt too complicated to articulate.

Without a word, he whipped up a drink, something colourful and sweet, and handed it to you. The condensation from the glass cooled your palm, but it did little to soothe the fire raging inside. The drink looked vibrant, but you could already tell it was just a disguise for the hollowness you felt.

“She’s kind of a bitch for doing that in front of you,” Mark muttered, glancing back at the couch, his fingers absentmindedly wiping down the counter. His words hung in the air like a lifebuoy tossed your way, and for a moment, it felt like they were offering you a chance to vent, to express all the things you were holding back. But you shook your head, pushing the thoughts down.

“Not really,” you sighed, taking a sip of the drink. The sweetness coated your tongue, but it tasted like nothing, a mere distraction. “I’m the bitch here. Liking the same guy as my best friend, after she tells me she likes him, that kind of thing breaks girl code.”

Mark furrowed his eyebrows, his confusion evident. “Girl code? Really?” He scoffed softly, shaking his head. “Come on, Belle falls for every guy who looks her way. Everyone knows that. Besides, you actually have a better shot, Jeno knows you, trusts you. You should go for it.”

You nearly choked on your drink, laughter bubbling up despite your mood. “Yeah, and get a reputation for stealing my friends’ crushes? No thanks, Mark. I’ll pass.” You handed him the empty glass, watching as he refilled it, his movements swift and practiced. The glint of the alcohol under the dim kitchen lights reflected how your emotions felt; messy and swirling, a whirlpool threatening to pull you under.

Mark sighed, exasperated. “It’s your party. Don’t let them get in your head. Go have some fun.” He handed you the new drink with a smile, but before you could take another sip, he added, “And don’t drink too much. You can’t handle it, and we both know it.”

But after two glasses, fun was the last thing you felt. The sight of Jeno and Belle still played in your mind, a vivid loop that made the alcohol churn uncomfortably in your stomach. You tried to find Belle in the crowded room, but she was nowhere to be seen. After asking around and realising Jeno wasn’t there either, the pit in your stomach grew deeper. You knew what that probably meant.

You found yourself wandering back to the kitchen, your mind foggy but determined to drown out the ache with another drink. Mark raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised to see you again. When you asked for yet another glass, he sighed deeply, a mixture of concern and frustration in his expression.

“This is your last one,” he warned, handing you the drink reluctantly. “You can’t handle much. I don’t want to have to carry you out of your own party.”

But Mark’s warning felt like a distant echo in your ears. By the time you were begging for a fourth drink, all caution had slipped away, and you couldn’t care less about the consequences. The music in the living room was thumping, laughter echoing like a cruel reminder of your current situation, and all you could feel was the weight of everything you couldn’t have — Jeno, your peace, the ability to not care.

“I already told you, no more drinks. You’re cut off,” Mark said, frustration clear in his voice. “I’ll get you some water instead.”

As he turned to open the fridge, you took your chance. The cold metal of a beer can brushed against your fingertips as you snatched it from the counter. You were so focused on your mission to drown out the pain that you didn’t notice Mark turning back toward you.

“y/n,” he snapped, his tone stern, “let go of the can. You’re going to regret this.”

You raised the can to your lips, but Mark was quicker. His hand reached out to grab it from you, and in the struggle, the can slipped from your grasp. The beer splashed everywhere — over your shirt, dripping down your arms, and pooling on the floor. The cold liquid seeped through your clothes, clinging to your skin, making you gasp at the sudden chill. Mark groaned, grabbing a napkin from the counter as you stood there, drenched, with a look of defiance still written across your face.

Undeterred, you tried to tilt the can toward your mouth, desperate to drink whatever was left inside, despite the mess. “Come on, y/n, you’re making this harder than it needs to be,” Mark sighed, exasperation laced in his tone as he managed to pry the can away for good this time.

The alcohol-soaked shirt clung to your body, the sticky sensation uncomfortable, but you were too far gone to care. The frustration bubbling inside wasn’t going to be soothed by just a drink anymore. You were angry, angry at Belle, at Jeno, at the fact that you had let yourself feel anything at all.

Before you could make another move, a strong hand wrapped around your wrist, prying you away from the counter. You froze, looking up into the familiar dark eyes you’d been avoiding all night — Jeno.

The world felt like it stopped as Jeno glanced from you to Mark, his brows furrowed in mild concern. “Help me out here, Jen. She’s had too much already, and she won’t listen to me,” Mark said, his voice weary but relieved that someone else could take over.

Jeno’s gaze softened as he looked down at your soaked shirt, a mixture of amusement and concern crossing his face. He let out a small sigh, his grip gentle but firm as he took the can from your hand and replaced it with a bottle of water. “You’re done with the drinks for tonight, okay?” he said softly, his voice holding the same care you’d heard earlier.

Before you could protest, Jeno wrapped his arm around you, guiding you out of the kitchen, away from the noise and the eyes of your curious friends. The walk to your room was a blur, but the warmth of his hand on your waist kept you grounded, even as the alcohol swirled in your system.

The sight of Belle sobbing into someone’s shoulder as you passed through the hallway barely registered in your hazy mind. You were too focused on the warmth of Jeno’s presence beside you, the way his touch lingered longer than necessary, as if he was anchoring you.

Once in your room, Jeno gently guided you to sit on the edge of your bed, his touch careful as if he was afraid you might fall over. His eyes roamed over your beer-soaked clothes, a soft chuckle escaping him. “You’re a mess,” he teased, though his voice held no judgment. If anything, it was laced with concern, the kind of worry that felt warm and comforting instead of scolding.

You glanced down at yourself, wincing as you finally took in the state of your shirt. The beer stains were obvious now, dark patches clinging to the fabric and sticking to your skin in an uncomfortable way. You grimaced, the sticky sensation making you feel even more self-conscious. The alcohol had dulled the sharpness of your embarrassment, but not entirely. A faint blush crept up your cheeks as you mumbled, “I should change…”

You attempted to push yourself off the bed, but your limbs were heavy, sluggish from the alcohol coursing through your system. Your balance wavered, and you nearly stumbled forward before Jeno’s hand gently pressed on your shoulder, keeping you steady.

Without saying a word, he crossed the room to your closet, rummaging through the clothes until he found one of your oversized t-shirts. He walked back to you with that same quiet focus, kneeling down to your level, holding the clean shirt in his hands. His gaze met yours for a moment, and something in his expression made your heart skip a beat.

“Here,” Jeno said softly, his voice just above a whisper. “Let me help.”

Your breath caught in your throat as his fingers reached for the hem of your beer-stained shirt. He moved slowly, giving you plenty of time to object, to stop him. But you didn’t. You couldn’t. The closeness of him, the way his eyes held nothing but tenderness. It was like the rest of the world had disappeared, leaving just the two of you in this charged, intimate bubble.

Jeno’s hands were careful as he lifted the fabric, peeling it away from your sticky skin with a precision that made your pulse quicken. The cool air hit you, contrasting the warmth of his touch. Every time his fingers brushed your arms, it sent shivers through you. It wasn’t overtly intimate, but the care he took in making sure you were comfortable made the moment feel far more meaningful than it should have.

Once your shirt was off, he handed you the fresh one, his eyes deliberately focused anywhere but your body, giving you the privacy to finish. You quickly pulled the oversized shirt over your head, feeling the soft cotton fabric glide down. Your cheeks burned, not from the alcohol, but from the way Jeno’s thoughtfulness had disarmed you, leaving your heart racing in its wake.

When you were finally settled in your clean shirt, Jeno took a step back, his hands awkwardly fumbling at his sides, unsure of what to do next. “Better?” he asked, his voice quiet but sincere.

You nodded, not trusting your voice. The warmth pooling in your chest wasn’t just from the remnants of alcohol, but from the way Jeno had cared for you, so gentle and attentive. The kindness in his actions made your emotions swirl even more intensely.

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the air between you heavy with something unspoken. The room felt smaller with Jeno in it, the atmosphere charged with a new kind of tension. It wasn’t uncomfortable though. If anything, it felt safe. Like he was there to make sure you were okay, to take care of you, in a way that made your heart feel lighter despite the whirlwind of the night.

Jeno’s eyes flicked from the bed to you, a soft concern still lacing his gaze. “You should get some rest. It’s been a long night.”

You climbed under the covers, feeling the exhaustion settling into your bones now that the noise of the party was long behind you. As you laid down, Jeno lingered by your side for a moment, his hand briefly brushing your shoulder before he moved to sit at your desk. His presence filled the room, grounding you in a way you hadn’t expected.

“Jeno?” your voice came out as a soft murmur, barely loud enough to reach him, but he turned to you right away.

“Yeah?”

You hesitated for a moment before whispering, “Thanks… for everything.”

A small smile pulled at the corner of his lips, the soft light in your room making his features look even kinder than usual. “Get some sleep, y/n. I’ll be here if you need anything.”

You closed your eyes for a brief second, trying to process what was happening. Jeno was in your room. The Jeno. The one who was always surrounded by friends, admired by so many. The same Jeno your best friend had been talking about for months, and the one you, slowly but surely, had found yourself falling for.

The alcohol still buzzed in your veins, loosening your inhibitions just enough to make you bolder than usual. This was your chance, maybe Mark had been right all along. Jeno was here, with you, taking care of you in ways that felt like more than just friendly concern. Maybe, just maybe, you weren’t imagining the way he stayed close tonight, the way his eyes lingered a little longer.

It was now or never.

The air in the room felt heavy, thick with unspoken words and lingering tension. Jeno sat at your desk, his steady gaze unreadable as you shifted under the covers, a mix of nervousness and warmth blooming in your chest. The alcohol had numbed your inhibitions, but the electricity between you both was impossible to ignore.

You pulled the blanket tighter around yourself, trying to ground yourself in the fabric, though it did little to help. “It’s cold,” you mumbled, barely audible, your voice betraying the hint of vulnerability you didn’t want to show. In truth, the room was a bit chilly, but more than anything, you longed for his presence next to you. The space between you felt far too wide, like an unspoken barrier you didn’t know how to cross without risking everything.

Jeno’s eyes flickered toward you, his hesitation lingering in the silence that stretched between you. After a beat, he stood up from the desk, his movements slow and deliberate, as if carefully weighing each step. Your breath hitched as he approached, and your heart pounded in your chest, anticipation curling in your stomach.

Wordlessly, Jeno slid under the covers beside you, his warmth instantly chasing away the cold. His scent, a comforting mix of cologne and something undeniably him, wrapped around you, making your head spin. Instinctively, you leaned into him, your head finding its place against his chest. His arm moved naturally around you, pulling you closer, and you melted into the embrace, feeling his heartbeat against your cheek.

With Jeno’s warmth cocooning you, the outside world felt like a distant dream. The party’s once-loud music had faded into a faint murmur, barely audible over the sound of his steady breathing. Every now and then, his breath grazed your hair, sending tiny shivers down your spine. You stayed perfectly still, afraid that even the slightest movement would break this fragile moment, this perfect stillness.

“Is it still cold?” Jeno’s voice was low, a gentle murmur that seemed to sink into your very bones.

A small smile tugged at your lips, and you pressed yourself closer to him, allowing the exhaustion of the night to wash over you. “Not anymore,” you whispered, your voice barely a breath. His arm tightened around you in response, as if silently saying that he wasn’t going anywhere. That, even just for tonight, you had him.

The soft light from the bedside lamp cast a warm glow over the room, its dim shadows creating a cozy, intimate space that felt removed from reality. The world beyond your bedroom door seemed to slow, leaving only the two of you in this quiet bubble, suspended in time. You found yourself wishing that you could capture this feeling forever, keep this warmth and peace bottled up in your heart.

Jeno’s hand rested on your waist, his fingers moving in slow, absentminded circles over the fabric of your shirt. His touch was so gentle, so careful, that it sent little sparks dancing across your skin. It wasn’t just the alcohol making you dizzy; it was the tenderness in every brush of his fingers, the way he held you like you were something delicate.

“You’re always running around, taking care of everyone,” he murmured softly, his words carrying a weight that tugged at your heart. “Who takes care of you, y/n?”

His question hung in the air, the raw sincerity in his voice cutting through you. A lump formed in your throat, and you blinked rapidly to keep the sudden tears at bay. You hadn’t expected him to say something like that. Who did take care of you? For as long as you could remember, you were the one who held everything together, the one who put everyone else’s needs before your own. But in this moment, with Jeno’s arms wrapped around you, it felt like someone was finally seeing past all of that—seeing you.

“I… I don’t know,” you whispered, your voice trembling as you admitted the truth aloud. “I guess I’m just used to it.”

Jeno shifted beside you, his body pressing closer, his breath now warm against your ear. “You deserve more than that,” he said softly, his voice low and earnest, each word landing like a promise. “You deserve someone who’ll take care of you, too.”

Tears pricked at your eyes, and you swallowed hard, trying to hold back the surge of emotions threatening to overwhelm you. His words felt too good, too perfect, and a part of you was afraid to believe them. Afraid to believe that someone like Jeno could really see you like that, could want to take care of you.

Still, in this moment, wrapped in his warmth, you allowed yourself to pretend — to imagine, if only for tonight, that this could be your reality. That Jeno could be yours.

His thumb traced another slow circle on your side, his touch so gentle it was almost hypnotic. “I don’t want you to forget tonight,” he whispered, his voice even quieter now, like he was sharing a secret meant just for you.

You turned in his arms, your breath catching in your throat as your eyes locked with his. There was something in his gaze, something soft and unspoken, that made your heart race. His face was inches from yours, his breath warm on your skin, and for a brief moment, time seemed to stop altogether.

You swallowed, the words escaping you before you could think twice. “What if I do?”

For a moment, Jeno’s expression darkened, his gaze flicking down to your lips before meeting your eyes again. Then, in a movement so gentle it felt like a dream, he leaned in, brushing his lips against yours in a soft, lingering kiss. The contact sent a shiver through you, your whole body reacting to the warmth of his touch.

“Then I’ll remind you,” he murmured against your lips, his voice barely above a whisper.

The night blurred into a series of quiet moments. Soft touches, shared whispers, and a closeness that felt too tender, too fragile to belong to the real world. You could have stayed in that moment forever, tangled in Jeno’s warmth, pretending that the world outside didn’t exist.

But, as always, reality had a way of creeping back in.

Jeno’s phone buzzed on the desk beside him, the soft vibrations shattering the stillness. He sighed, his arm loosening from around you as he reached for the phone, the glow of the screen illuminating his face. You watched as his brows furrowed, his expression tense as he scrolled through the dozens of missed calls and messages.

“Shit,” he muttered, sitting up, his warmth slipping away from you entirely.

The cold rushed in immediately, filling the space where Jeno had been, and your heart sank. You knew what was coming next.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, already knowing the answer but dreading hearing it aloud.

Jeno ran a hand through his hair, frustration evident in the set of his jaw. “The guys… They’ve been calling me nonstop. I told them I’d leave with them, they’re my only ride home.” His voice was tinged with regret, but beneath it, you could sense the guilt.

You forced a smile, trying to mask the disappointment that was tightening in your chest. “It’s fine,” you lied, propping yourself up on your elbow. “You should go.”

Jeno glanced down at his phone again, then back at you, his jaw tightening as he hesitated. “I don’t want to leave you alone,” he said quietly, his voice thick with the conflict swirling inside him.

You shook your head, the ache in your chest growing. “I’ll be okay,” you whispered, your words feeling hollow. “Really. Go.”

For a fleeting moment, you held onto the hope that Jeno might stay. The way he looked at you, his eyes searching your face with an intensity that made your heart race, felt like a promise unspoken. But then the phone buzzed again, shattering the delicate moment. You watched as his resolve shifted, the warmth in his gaze giving way to a distant sadness.

With a heavy sigh, he rose from the bed, the fabric of the moment tearing slightly as he slipped his phone into his pocket. The air around you felt colder, thick with unspoken words and lingering emotions, as if the very room held its breath. Just before he reached the door, he hesitated, turning back to you one last time. His eyes softened as they met yours, and he stepped back toward the bed, leaning down to press a tender kiss to your lips. It was soft and lingering, yet it carried the weight of finality.

“I’ll see you on Monday,” he whispered, his breath brushing against your skin, leaving a warmth that contrasted the chill that enveloped you after he left.

And then, he was gone.

The weekend stretched endlessly, an expanse of silence that felt like an aching void where his presence had been. No calls. No texts. Just the stark absence of his warmth and the echo of the night you had shared. With each passing hour, the memory of Jeno’s embrace faded, leaving you alone with your swirling thoughts and an unsettling sense of regret.

You spent the next two days trapped in a loop of memories, replaying every moment over and over. The way he looked at you with such intensity, the way he held you close, the sincerity in his voice when he told you that you deserved better. You ached to reach out to him, to check if he still remembered the fleeting magic of that night. But every time you reached for your phone, a wave of fear stopped you cold. The thought of his response, what he might say or, worse, what he might not say, paralyzed you.

By the time Monday rolled around, you had convinced yourself that maybe it was better this way. Pretending nothing had happened would be the safest path. After all, he would slip back into his life with friends, back to the way things were before, and you would have to bear the weight of your choices alone.

As you stepped through the school doors, you immediately felt the weight of stares bearing down on you. Whispers trailed you down the hall like a shadow, and you quickly pieced together the rumors that had spread like wildfire. Word had gotten out about you and Jeno, and Belle had undoubtedly heard every detail.

It wasn’t long before she found you. Standing by your locker, arms crossed and eyes narrowed, her glare twisted your stomach into knots.

“I can’t believe you, Y/N,” Belle hissed, her voice sharp and full of venom. “You promised me you’d be there for me. You said you’d help me with Jeno, and instead, you—” She cut herself off, her voice trembling with barely contained fury.

You swallowed hard, guilt and shame coiling tightly in your chest. “Belle, I—”

“No,” she interrupted, her eyes flashing with hurt. “Don’t. Don’t act like you didn’t know. Everyone’s talking about how you left the party together. You think I didn’t see the way he looks at you?”

Your heart plummeted, a heavy weight in your stomach. You longed to explain, to articulate that it hadn’t been what it looked like, that you hadn’t intended for any of it to happen. But deep down, you knew the truth: you had crossed a line, and no amount of explanation would erase the breach of trust.

“I didn’t mean for this to happen,” you whispered, your voice barely above a breath.

“It’s not fair. I was so close to having him, Y/N. I was right there, and then you had to ruin it for me.” Belle’s eyes glistened with unshed tears, but her expression hardened like ice. “You’re a liar. You promised to help,” she spat coldly, turning away from you. “You’re no better than the rest of them. Maybe you should’ve tried harder not to ruin everything.”

And just like that, she walked away, leaving you with the sharp sting of her betrayal echoing in the silence behind her.

You stood there, frozen, as the world around you faded into a blurry haze of whispers and judgmental stares. The hallway stretched out longer than usual, each step feeling like an uphill battle against the suffocating air thick with unspoken words. You could almost see the rumours swirling like storm clouds, brewing around you as classmates shot knowing glances. Some gleeful, others disdainful, while they whispered behind your back, oblivious to the truth.

You made it through the day by shrinking into yourself, avoiding everyone as if they were fragments of glass waiting to cut you. Each laugh from a group nearby felt like a mockery, reminding you of how the moments you shared with Jeno now felt like scattered shards, impossible to clean up without inflicting wounds on your heart. Every time you caught a glimpse of him in the halls, your chest tightened as his eyes flicked toward you for just a fleeting second before looking away, as if that one shared night had evaporated into thin air. Maybe it had for him.

The days following that night passed under a strange, silent agreement between you and Jeno. Neither of you acknowledged what had happened. No messages. No lingering glances. No awkward conversations. It was as if you had both silently decided that pretending it hadn’t meant anything was the easiest way to cope. But you couldn't shake the feeling that, to him, it truly hadn’t.

At school, Jeno slipped seamlessly back into the rhythm of his life, surrounded by his friends, laughter pouring from their mouths as if nothing had changed. He blended effortlessly into the crowd of popular kids, exuding an air of confidence that was painfully absent in you. Later, you overheard snippets of their conversations, casual, dismissive remarks. “She’s not worth it, man. You could do way better,” Haechan chuckled, as if your very existence was a punchline. Jeno merely shrugged, his indifference cutting deeper than any blade. “It was nothing.”

The words pierced through your carefully constructed defences, more painful than you could have anticipated. They shouldn’t have stung; after all, you had spent the entire weekend convincing yourself that you didn’t care, that it was just a fleeting moment. But those three words echoed in your mind, a relentless mantra: It was nothing.

Still, you played your part. Whenever you passed him in the halls or found yourself near his group during lunch, you donned a mask of indifference so convincingly that you almost started to believe it yourself. You laughed with your other friends, pretended to focus in class, and convinced yourself that forgetting was the best option. You were adept at pretending, had to be, but that night continued to linger, haunting you like a bittersweet melody you couldn't silence.

The only person who seemed to peel back your façade was Mark. You never spoke about that night directly, but he could read between the lines. He noticed the way your gaze avoided Jeno, how your laughter felt forced, and how your smile no longer reached your eyes.

One afternoon, when the weight of everything felt too heavy to bear, you found yourself gravitating toward Mark. He sat on the grass at the edge of the soccer field, scribbling furiously in his notebook. You dropped down beside him, the warmth of the sun contrasting with the cold ache in your chest. He looked up, brow raised, but he didn’t say anything right away, giving you space to breathe.

“I don’t know what I’m doing anymore,” you finally admitted, staring into the distance as the horizon blurred with your emotions.

Mark closed his notebook, shifting his full attention to you. “Want to talk about it?”

You shook your head, frustration bubbling inside you. “Not really. Just… everything’s a mess.”

He didn’t press you, but his unwavering gaze bore into you, his concern palpable. “You don’t have to pretend with me. I can tell you’re not okay.”

The tightness in your chest intensified at his words, and you forced a laugh that felt hollow. “It’s not a big deal. I barely even remember that night, anyway.”

Mark didn’t buy it. He never did. “You don’t have to lie to me. But if you don’t want to talk about it, that’s okay too.”

The silence stretched between you, filled with all the unsaid things that hung heavy in the air. You stared at the ground, fighting the emotions that threatened to spill over.

“Jeno didn’t say anything, did he?” you asked, the question slipping out before you could hold it back.

Mark sighed, leaning back on his hands. “He’s pretending it never happened, too. His friends… Well, they’re being assholes, like always. Told him he could do better. You know how they are.”

You nodded, the weight of disappointment sinking deeper into your bones. Of course they would say that. Of course Jeno would follow their lead. It was easier to dismiss the connection you had shared, to act like you hadn’t been wrapped up in each other, sharing warmth and vulnerability in a way that felt almost sacred.

Sensing your shift in mood, Mark nudged your shoulder lightly, offering a small smile. “Look, I’m not gonna pretend to understand what’s going on in Jeno’s head. But you deserve better than this, better than being some secret he feels like he has to hide.”

His words wrapped around you like a comforting blanket, yet they only amplified the ache in your heart. You wished it didn’t hurt so much, wished you could just move on like Jeno seemed to. But the truth was, that night had meant something to you. Even if you shouldn’t have felt that way, even if you tried to convince yourself otherwise, it did.

It wasn’t just the gossip or the whispers that hurt; it was the entire situation. The reality that you had gotten swept up in something so fleeting, yet so consuming. You felt like you were living on a stage, where every move was scrutinised, turned into something larger than life. Belle, Jeno, his friends; they were all part of that act, and now, so were you. You thought back to the party, to the fragile intimacy you had shared with Jeno, the way you had intertwined your lives for a moment. But the harsh reality was that it hadn’t been real. Not for him.

When you got home, you collapsed onto your bed, staring up at the ceiling, its familiar texture suddenly feeling foreign and oppressive. The quiet of your room suffocated you, amplifying the echoes of whispers and judgment that had followed you all day. It should have been a relief to escape the chaos, but instead, it was a stark reminder of how alone you felt. Gone were the masks and the laughter; all that remained was the haunting silence, thick with unspoken words and unresolved feelings.

Your phone buzzed, and for a fleeting moment, hope flickered inside you. Maybe it was Jeno, maybe he finally had something to say, something that could bridge the chasm that had formed between you two. But as you glanced down, the screen illuminated a message from Mark instead.

Mark: How you holding up?

You stared at the words, the glow of the screen casting a pale light over your uncertainty. Mark had always been the one to see beyond your carefully constructed façade, the only person who didn’t press for answers you weren’t ready to give. His concern was palpable even through the digital barrier, but the weight of your own feelings made it hard to respond.

You: I don’t know.

The reply felt painfully inadequate, a thin veil over the storm churning inside you. You tossed your phone aside, pulling your knees up to your chest, as if trying to protect your heart from the world outside. What did you even want at this point? Jeno wasn’t coming back to fix things, and Belle was probably rehearsing her next round of accusations. You felt caught in a strange, uncomfortable limbo, yearning to forget while being unable to erase the vivid memories of that night.

In the days that followed, you had tried to convince yourself the night with Jeno was nothing more than a fleeting mistake, a moment spurred by alcohol and the warmth of the moment. But now, as the realization washed over you, it became painfully clear: you had wanted it to mean something more. You craved the way he looked at you that night—not with the haze of drunken affection, but with something deeper, something that could fill the void you felt inside.

But he didn’t. He never would.

You remained motionless on your bed, eyes fixed on the ceiling, feeling the silence stretch around you like a shroud. Your phone buzzed again, probably Mark checking in, but you couldn’t muster the energy to respond. The weight of your decisions pressed heavily on your chest, reminding you of the loss that had settled in your heart.

You had lost your best friend, sacrificed your bond with Belle for something ephemeral, and now, you were left to pick up the pieces alone. And maybe that was what hurt the most. The realization that in the end, none of it had felt real. Not the intimate moments shared with Jeno, not the friendship you had thought you could count on with Belle. Everything felt built on a shaky foundation, fragile and destined to crumble.

As you lay there, you reached for your phone, hoping to drown out the noise in your head with music. You scrolled through your playlist, searching for anything that could take you away from this moment. And then it started, the familiar notes of Crush Culture by Conan Gray filled the room, wrapping around you like a bittersweet embrace.

With each lyric, you felt a rush of recognition that hit you like a truck. Crush culture makes me wanna spill my guts out. The words resonated deeply, echoing the tumult of emotions swirling inside you. It was as if Conan had taken the scattered pieces of your heart and crafted them into a song, pulling at the very strings of your soul.

The lines about fleeting moments, unreciprocated feelings, and the pain of wanting something that was never truly yours surged through you. You closed your eyes, allowing the music to wash over you, each note igniting memories of that night with Jeno. The way he held you, the laughter you shared, the promises whispered in the dark. But with each line, the weight of reality crashed down harder, reminding you of the distance that had grown between you since then.

Tears prickled at the corners of your eyes, the catharsis almost overwhelming as the song played on. You could feel every word burrowing into your heart, every melody capturing the longing you tried to hide. This wasn’t just about Jeno; it was about everything you had lost, everything you had poured into moments that turned out to be nothing but illusions.

And in that moment, you felt a fragile clarity. You might be lost now, but you wouldn’t stay that way forever. The lyrics continued to echo around you, each syllable a promise that you would find a way through the pain, that you could reclaim your voice, your heart, and maybe, just maybe, discover what it meant to feel whole again.

As the song faded into silence, you lay back against your pillows, allowing the tears to flow freely. It was time to face the truth, to embrace the chaos of your emotions, and to start piecing together a new beginning. And with that thought, you closed your eyes, a flicker of hope igniting within you. A hope that lingered long after the last notes faded away.

[mynameisjag]

For anonymous: Prompt: Nicepool crushing hard on Weapon X.

Author's Note: If given the chance, I will write Logan as the embodiment of a feral cat unless specifically told not to.

-

The usual thing about the TVA force hiring Deadpool and Wolverine to help handle cross universe dilemmas happens. Which was usually solved with a good fight, quips, and hauling their blood covered bodies back home for a greasy dinner.

Handling the situation with words…was abit more…problematic…

No one wanted to get near Weapon X to demand the variant go home and Deadpool, well, he had his own issues with his variant.

“The forces of fanfiction are against me, why are you fucking here?!”

“Good to see you too buddy!”

“Fucking how!”

Nicepool just shrugged and did a little wave over at Logan, who waved lightly back, “The forces of the multiverse are a mystery, death and life is at it’s own whimsy command. Much like love.”, and the man was now dreamily sighing and staring lovingly at the pissed off Wolverine variant.

Who was currently distracted by Wade’s Logan.

Logan was steadily just watching the other black clad mutant circle around him, both bristling.

Wade ignored that whole situation, they could take care of themselves like the big girls they are.

“You can not “Pretty Woman” this situation, Miss Lola over there is a man eater in the way Hannibal Lector is.”

“Oh, their name is Lola? That’s so pretty…Lola…”

“Is this what everyone back home feels like dealing with me, shit, I’m going to have to some apology letters or flowers when we get back home.”

“I should get them some flowers, what do you think they’re favorite is?”

“Lily’s, like the ones they use at funerals because that’s what is going to happen.”

Both Wolverines were on all fours and doing great imitations of cats now, hissing and teeth baring included.

“Awe, they are making friends!”, Nicepool clasped his hands in front of himself, sighing deeply again.

“Just fucking stick your dick in a trash compactor, it would end the same!”

“I can give them a better life, I can save them from the streets, I can be their hero.”, there seemed to be actual anime sparkles around the man…Wade waved it all away like a bad fart.

“Lola” was now purring and rubbing up against Logan, both chittering away like the ferret cousins they were.

Deadpool was just staring at his variant, his face being covered did not deter the aura of his annoyance being projected full force at the other, too bad Nicepool paid absolutely no attention to the waves of hatred sent his way, “You know what “Mr. Salt is too spicy for me”, go on, go confess your love,” he dramatically pointed over to the Wolverines, “go on, go-wait, where’s the other one?”

Logan shrugged nonchalantly, “He left.”

“What?”

“Yeah, he went home.”, he pointed at one of the doorways usually made from the TVA for dimensional travel, “I think he wants me to follow him.”

“Nope, I kidnapped you fair and square, we have a dog and rent together now, so you are not going anywhere. I’ve gotten too used to stealing your body heat at night. I’ve got no body hair to keep me warm, Lo, you’ve got too much, it’s a perfect balance, we can’t mess with the balance.”

Nicepool took a deep loud breath, interrupting the other two as he placed his hand on Wade’s shoulder, who just shrugged it off, “I know what I should do now, wish me luck,” he then turned and went through the gateway like a soldier on a mission, the entryway closing behind him in a zip of light.

“Wow,” Deadpool clapped his hands together once, “he is going to be murdered. Violently. Lola is going to use his thighs and squeeze his head like a watermelon in absolute viscous glee…I’m sorta jealous that’s how that cheery fuck will go out this time,” he turned toward his partner, “will you-“

“-I’m not getting your rotted out brain shit all over my crotch.”

“Fucking damn it!”

-Lola comes from the lyrics, “Her name was Lola, she was a showgirl.”

[quinnysnursery]

[🦇] do you wanna grow together? | johnnie guilbert and grace van dien one-shot

paring : little!johnnie guilbert x cg!grace van dien

summary : johnnie opens up to grace about his coping mechanism

warning/extra tid-bits : language, talk of growing up with bad parents, bit of a tantrum at the end but it's handled well!!

word count : 2,487

divider credit : umm i found all the photos on pinterest :3 (lace from @saradika-graphics)

a/n : i'm aware this song doesn't perfectly fit the vibes but in my heart it does!! i love brye's music idc if it's "tiktok music" (sorry for any typos, i'm just a girl!) also this is not proof read at all

Johnnie’s hand shook as Jake pulled up to Grace’s house. “This it?” The punk asked, leaning down to get a better look at the house in front of him. 

It was nicer than Jake, Johnnie and Carrington’s place, the first time Johnnie saw it he briefly wondered just how much Grace’s role on Stranger Things paid. 

“Yeah, this is it.” Johnnie’s leg bounced up and down anxiously, earning a sympathy glance from the punk next to him. “Hey,” Jake started, turning his attention to his friend. 

“It’s gonna be okay. She’s a nice girl, right?” Jake made sure to look Johnnie in the eyes when he asked him this, “Yeah, she’s…awesome.” Johnnie smiled to himself, realizing just how lucky he was. 

Grace was beautiful, but that wasn’t the reason Johnnie fell in love with her. He fell in love with Grace because she’d noticed him in the corner of a party, alone and to himself- like always- and came right up with that bubbly smile and asked what he was drinking.

He fell in love with Grace because she’d never once been unkind to him.

“Then I’m sure this’ll go fine.” His roommate assured him, placing a comforting hand on his friend’s shoulder. “And if it doesn’t, you’ll always have me and Carrington.” 

Johnnie let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding in. “Yeah, yeah you’re right.” He nodded, unbuckling his seatbelt.

“D’you want me to wait outside?” The red-haired man asked, earning a head shake from Johnnie. “Just uh- keep your phone near.” The emo man told him, earning a nod from his roommate. “Okay, good luck.” Jake smiled, unlocking the doors to his Tesla.

It didn’t take Johnnie long to get out of the car and make his way to his girlfriend’s front door. He could hear the sounds of Jake’s tires pulling out the driveway and down the street.

Just him and Grace.

That was fine, he’d stayed the night plenty of times. He even spent the weekend at her house once! It was fine.

Everything was fine. 

In one swift motion, the large front door swung open revealing the blonde girl that Johnnie was here to see. “Johnnie!” Her perfume hit him in the face in the best way possible, instantly easing his nerves. Grace was good at that, somehow.

“Hey!” He smiled brightly, instantly leaning down and allowing her to hug him. Grace pulled away after a few moments, smiling brightly at her boyfriend. “Well come in!” She beamed before grabbing his tattooed hand and pulling her inside, letting the door automatically lock behind her. 

“Are you thirsty? Hungry? We could order something!” She instantly jumped into conversation about things they could do whilst in each other’s presence.

“Um-“ Johnnie gulped down the lump in his throat, his hands shaking as he glanced around his girlfriend’s extravagant kitchen. “I uh- was actually hoping I could talk to you about…something.” Johnnie avoided eye contact with the blonde woman, opting to stare down at his boots.

“Oh..” Grace’s face fell, fear punching her in the gut. “Okay, we can talk.” She sat down at the kitchen island, Johnnie sitting across from her. 

Both Johnnie and Grace’s legs bounced anxiously as they waited for someone to break the silence. Johnnie was wracking his brain for the script he’d made at three AM this morning- when he’d decided that he had to tell Grace about his regression.

It wasn’t an easy decision by any means, the emo man had only told four people in his entire life. It dawned on him in the early morning hours that he wanted Grace to stay in his life for awhile- forever, preferably. It also dawned on him that that meant opening up about the most sacred part of himself…which was terrifying.

“Are you breaking up with me?” Grace’s voice snapped him back to reality. “What?!” Johnnie’s eyes widened, realizing his girlfriend’s blue eyes were glossing over. “No! Oh my god- No! Never!” Johnnie quickly cupped Grace’s hand with his tatted one.

“Oh thank god.” Grace breathed, placing her free hand over her heart as she let out a shaky breath. “You scared me!” She whined, a giggle following her lips.

“I’m sorry, I-” Johnnie’s brain blanked again, what was he supposed to say? 

“I don’t want to break up with you! I just need you to know that I mentally regress to a toddler because my teen years were ruined!!” That wasn’t right, it couldn’t be right. 

“What’s going on? You’re shaky,” The blonde woman frowned sympathetically, tracing her fingers along his crow tattoo. “More than normal.” She joked, earning a breathy laugh from her boyfriend. “I uhm…shit this is hard,” He laughed, Grace smiled sympathetically. 

Johnnie took one final deep breath, “So y’know about MDE and that shit, right?” He asked. Grace instantly nodded, leaning in to show she was actively listening. 

“I was like, really young, when that all started which- fuckin’ sucked.” Johnnie laughed- it wasn’t funny, but it helped his nerves. The blonde woman nodded and rubbed her thumb along the back of Johnnie’s hand, allowing her boyfriend to continue on.

“And uh- I kinda missed out on a ton of shit that kids got to do, even before moving to Nebraska.” He added, “So,” Johnnie gulped down the bundle of nerves that was creeping up on him. 

“So, I found this uh- this coping mechanism, a couple years ago.” 

Okay. She wasn’t freaking out yet, that was a good sign. 

“It’s called age regression, have you…have you heard of it?” He asked, glancing up to meet Grace’s eyes. Grace thought for a moment before shaking her head, Johnnie didn’t know if that was for the better or for the worst.

“Okay- that’s okay.” He assured, smiling warmly at his girlfriend. “It’s this coping mechanism where the regressor-” Johnnie was cut off, “Is that you?” Grace asked, earning a nod. 

“Yeah, that…that would be me.” The emo man admitted, an embarrassed blush dusting his cheeks. Grace nodded, readjusting in her seat. “The regressor reverts to a child-like mindset, in order to cope with stress…mental health, it um- it can be both voluntary and involuntary.” Once Johnnie was finished with his words, he brought his freehand up to his mouth- chewing on the skin around his nail in order to self-soothe.

Grace processed what her boyfriend had told her before speaking, “And you do this?” She inquired, earning a cautious nod. “Okay, thank you for telling me.” The blonde smiled, “I’m really proud of you, ‘s probably not an easy thing to tell people.” She added.

Johnnie blinked at his girlfriend in surprise. Was that it? Was she mad? She didn’t sound mad, and Grace was still holding his hand so she couldn’t be mad…right?

“Uhm- sometimes regressors- littles, that’s…that’s another name for them- sometimes littles have caregivers and-” Johnnie was cut off once again, “Is that me?” Grace asked excitedly. Johnnie couldn’t help but smile at her tone, delightfully surprised.

“I mean- it could be, but I don’t want you to feel forced into that role at all!” Johnnie quickly stated, he was just fine on his own but if Grace really wanted to help…he wouldn’t mind having her take on a caring role.

Grace thought for a moment, now dealing with her own internal battle. She didn’t have the best upbringing. Sure, being a nepo-baby meant she got whatever she wanted whenever she wanted…but that didn’t make her family issues any better. Her father was the best dad he could be, but her mom…wasn’t the best parent.

Grace had spent her entire childhood worrying about her mothers addictive habits. It was hell, something no child should ever have to deal with.

“I’m not sure I’d be very good,” She admitted softly, her heart breaking as she saw her boyfriend’s smile falter. “I mean- I just…I don’t want to taint your age regression by messing up, y’know?” She explained, earning a soft nod from Johnnie. Silence fell over the room as both parties thought silently, pondering the next step.

“...I think you’d be a really good caregiver.” Johnnie said softly, Grace felt her heart swell. “Really?” She asked, a wide grin spreading over her face. He nodded, “You’re patient, and…gentle and…you already make me happy.”

Grace placed her free hand on her heart once again, this time to signal just how much Johnnie’s words meant to her. “I’ve never had a caregiver,” He admitted, much to Grace’s surprise.

“Really? Not even Jake?” She asked, knowing how close both the boys were. “He knows but he’s not my caregiver.” He explained. Grace hummed, understanding.

“...Maybe we could learn together?” She offered, peaking Johnnie’s interest. The black-haired man tilted his head, urging her to continue. “Like- you could learn to have a caregiver and I could learn how to be one.” She smiled, earning an enthusiastic agreement from Johnnie. 

“Okay…let’s learn together.”

A few weeks later, Johnnie found himself at Grace’s doorstep again. This time though, he had a backpack resting over one shoulder- filled to the brim with his regression supplies.

Toys, a sippy cup, various different coloring books (with crayons, of course) and even a deco-paci that Carrington had gifted him after learning of Johnnie’s regression.

Needless to say, Johnnie overpacked for an overnight stay but…he couldn’t help it! He was nervous!

“Johnnie!” Grace beamed, swinging her front door open and instantly latching herself onto her boyfriend. Johnnie let out the breath he’d been holding in, melting into the blonde’s arms.

 After soaking in the hug for a few moments, Grace pulled back and immediately began tugging Johnnie inside by his hand.

 “Come in! Look what I did!” The girl smiled, once again letting the door shut and lock once the two were inside. Johnnie nearly tripped over himself with how fast his girlfriend was dragging him to her living room, but once he saw exactly what she was so excited about he couldn’t help but smile.

Grace had made a fort that spanned the entire size of her living room, “I hope this ‘s okay, I loved forts as a kid so I just thought-” She was cut off by her boyfriend letting out an excited hum and bouncing excitedly.

Grace blinked in surprise, in the months she’d known Johnnie he had never done that. She didn’t dislike it, though. If anything, Grace found it adorable.

“Cece help ‘e?” Johnnie asked, tugging on Grace’s shirt gently with hopeful eyes. 

Cece.

Grace smiled softly, “Help with what, sweetheart?” She asked, surprising herself with her own tone. It was soft, gentler than her typical one- she hadn’t realized that was possible until now. 

“Shoes!” He smiled, gently placing his backpack on the floor, beginning to tug at his boots. Grace quickly moved his backpack into the fort before crouching in front of the regressed man to help him get his boots off. 

“So you like it?” She asked hopefully, earning a firm nod from Johnnie. “Uh-huh!” 

“We go in?” Johnnie asked softly, pointing at the entrance of the fort. Grace thought for a moment, “Have you eaten?” She asked, not wanting Johnnie to be hungry. 

Johnnie nodded, humming out small “mmhm!”.

“Jayjay made ‘e nuggets.” He smiled proudly, Grace nodded. “Okay, then yeah! Let’s go in!” She agreed, lifting up the blanket to allow Johnnie to crawl in- following him after.

Johnnie gaped at the interior of the fort, multiple twinkling fairy lights hung around. “Staw’s!” He smiled, looking towards Grace with eyes full of childlike wonder.

Grace knew at that moment that, even if she didn’t know how to be a caregiver, there wasn’t anything in this world that would stop her from learning.

“Yeah baby! Stars!” She encouraged, her heart melting into a pile of goop as Johnnie curled up next to her. “Do you wanna watch a movie, baby?” She asked, “Cow’pse Bw’ide?!” The little questioned, excitedly.

“Sure, hun.” Grace smiled, nodding. She quickly grabbed the TV remote off of her couch, scrolling to find the correct movie. The blonde woman wrapped her arm around the little, a coo slipping from her lips as Johnnie rested his head on her shoulder. 

Johnnie whined, tired tears threatening to spill from his icy blue eyes. Grace let out a gentle sigh, “Baby, you're tired.” She tried explaining, but the little one was having none of it. He’d dozed off halfway through the movie, only to wake up still exhausted. The only issue was, Johnnie refused to settle back down.

“M’ not!” He sniffled, despite rubbing his eye with his fist immediately after. Grace took a moment to think about what her parents would’ve done. With her dad’s job, it was rare that parenting was left up to him but her mom probably would’ve left her to cry it out in her room alone. It only ever made her feelings intensify, leading to more frustrated tears.

Grace wouldn’t do that to Johnnie, she couldn’t. The blonde woman took a deep breath before meeting Johnnie’s eyes again, “Can you look at Cece?” She asked gently. 

Johnnie whined, shaking his head and diverting his gaze. “Baby, please?” She cooed, reaching out and brushing Johnnie’s hair away from his eyes. The little begrudgingly met his caregiver’s eyes, “I can tell you're really flustered right now, huh?” She asked, receiving a sniffly nod from the pale man.

“Okay! Hey, that’s okay.” She reassured, thinking about what she needed to hear as a child. “Can you tell Cece why?” She questioned, “Don’ wanna ‘eep!” Johnnie shouted, wobbly lip breaking Grace’s heart.

“Can we try using softer voices?” Grace asked, quoting a gentle-parenting tiktok she’d seen whilst lying in bed awake last night- terrified she’d ruin Johnnie’s regression. She wanted to make sure she was as prepared as possible, and thank god she did.

Johnnie’s lip wobbled, but he nodded. “Sorry, Cece.” He apologized. “That’s okay baby, I know you didn’t mean it.” Grace comforted, pulling the little into a hug after asking permission.

“M’ still wanna color wif’ Cece…” Johnnie admitted through tired tears, “Oh buddy…” The woman cooed, looking down at the little in her arms. “We can still color, I just think you need a nap before we do.” She giggled, resulting in a small smile forming on Johnnie’s face.

“Cece wake ‘e up?” He asked hopefully, earning a quick nod from Grace. “Yeah, I’ll wake you up in…thirty minutes, okay?” She offered. Johnnie thought for a moment before nodding and snuggling back into Grace’s arms.

“Get some rest, I expect to see how talented you are at colorin’.” The blonde joked, earning a smiley laugh from the man in her arms. “Night night, Cece.” Johnnie yawned, eyes already drooping. 

“Night night, sweet boy.” She kissed the top of Johnnie’s head, allowing herself to relax.

She was confident she had Johnnie, and Johnnie was confident that Grace had him. They’d grow together.

taglist !! :

@babybatxxx @mattssturnz @littlestar44 @graceslittlecorner @zivall @hrtz4alex2211 @bimbob1tch @sturnsxplr-25 @cherry-red-heart @pr3ttyf4wn @frlinbruh @jazminepetit-homme @raynaaxx @tyummyz

(also tagging @nicksbestie and @salemscene since i said i would SO long ago i'm so sorry it took forever😖)

[pleasantspark]

at this point can we even call helluva boss a show for the audience because season two deadass feels like some fanservice shit that’s specifically made for Vivzepop and her friend circle

Most of the episodes always involves stolas being this helpless prince who needs his slave- uh I mean true love to save him

she literally blow most on the money budget just to get her favorite pop singer to voice act her oc which is ironic considering the episode literally ended up in copyright jail for two years until they got another singer for cotton candy and the only reason why that episode exists is because it’s supposed to be some love letter to her fans and the die young animation like girl nobody doesn’t care about your old animation 😭

and now blitzo is getting shit on left and right because he didn’t accept stolas little feelings 😐😑

as much as I’m not happy for ghostfuckers (if you know you know) it’s sad that this is going to be the last episode we see imp doing their job before everything becomes Vivzepop barely disguise fanfanfic for the rest of the season and season three

Whose not saying it's already fanfiction? Hazbin Hotel features VivziePop wanting to spread her "love" and "admiration" for sinners to be redeemed, while also being a burden to her own show. And managing to get a BEATBOXER TO SPEND 50K on her ass.

Try and convince me Hide Away isn't the main reason why most of these idiots actually got into Hazbin? I mean the fanbase was small but huge at the time, and overtime most of us were busy with other (respectful fandoms) like The Amazing Digital Circus, Welcome Home or even the upcoming news for Dragon Ball.

Helluva Boss is just fanfiction but podcasted and animation. Like those fanmade My Immortal shit. I'd mich rather read My Immortal, atleast the jokes and misspells were better than whatever VivziePop did.

I was currently writing an Audition sheet for my Hazbin Hotel rewrite series (Completely separate from Hazbin) when you sent it in.

So in conclusion:

Both Hazbin Hotel and Helluva Boss are written by WattPad 12 year olds who have some ideas on what is a gay relationship. It's literally remanence of what my Older Sister wrote on Wattpad (this bitch got 1k followers on there LMFAOOO.) Shame she quit writing.

So yeah, you're somewhat right Hazbin is somewhat of a fanfiction gone wrong especially knowing how she relies on the fans to give her ideas because she wasted all her money on broadway actors and complains about being PUH PUH POOOOOR!

Anyways Kofis opened so if you want personalized letters from your blorbos and favorite characters hmu. I need to save up for something related to getting art classes. They are 5$ for anyone interested.

[kateweathermachine2]

My thoughts on the Wisdom Saga

Legendary

TELEMACHUS MY BOY!!!

Honestly most of the stuff I have to say about him deals with the next two songs instead of this one…

Okay, but the more I listen to Antonius the more his voice is just ✨✨✨? Like Calypso’s voice being gorgeous was on SIGHT (on… hear? Heard? Audio?), but Antonius keeps getting better the more I listen to him. Don’t get me wrong he’s a bad dude, but his voice acting? Beautiful

I love the setup in this song, you don’t even notice because it’s so catchy

ARGUS CRUSHED MY HEART IN THE ANIMATIC (like I knew he would) poor dog boi… if Jorge doesn’t have Odysseus say hello to him in a song I will be heartbroken.

Little Wolf

This song… the appearance of Athena in this song brought my prospective ranking of it from likely low to battling it out with Love in Paradise for top spot (I’m STILL not sure which one I like more).

When Athena first appeared in the livestream I (mentally) SCREAMED- MY FAV IS BACK SHE’S BACK AND I LOVE HER (very platonically)

I love the little interlude with her and Telemachus- speaking of which-

I’ve seen some people mention how Telemachus seems much younger than 20/21. Something about the portrayal of Telemachus as this naïve inexperienced child? I’m not sure. But I have my own thoughts to share on this, because as someone who’s close to that young adult age, I think it’s actually pretty accurate for Telemachus’s character. He’s lived in the palace all his life, he’s longing to adventure in the world beyond, but he doesn’t know how to fight… I mean, I don’t specifically relate to Telemachus but I can see aspects of this in my own life. I’ve taken my first baby steps into the big adult world, and it’s intimidating and scary, and I don’t know how anything works, but I’m trying anyways. Point being, I don’t understand how people think that Telemachus has to be younger just because he doesn’t have certain life experiences or knowledge yet. I think it’s a very good portrayal of a young adult being unsure of his coming into the world but excited for it anyways.

Anyways back to ATHENA MY GIRL

I love that we get an in-musical explanation of Quick Thought!! I think it’s really important for a musical to be self-contained with its important lore/information and Jorge does such a great job with that.

Athena’s entire speech about the suitors and bullies and inspiring Telemachus and reframing his “Little Wolf” title CHUCKED THIS SONG SO HIGH IN MY BOOK I need to find a character of mine to associate this part to

The little “ooohhhh, maybe I pushed him a bit to hard” is hilarious

Interesting thing we’re doing with transitions into the next songs with this saga. I do agree with some of the people who said it sounds kind of off in this song; I think it might’ve flowed better if it introduced the next one, but honestly, I’m entirely willing to ignore that because this song is *so* good

We’ll be Fine

I have one glaring complaint about this song…. WHY ISNT IT LONGER?!?! I NEED MORE OF THIS

I can honestly see this becoming a comfort song for me, it holds such great messages to remember

“Cause I got in a fight, and I didn’t die!” The bar is on the FLOOR with Telemachus

The voice actors are rocking their respective high notes! Jorge pushed them and they owned it!!

Speaking of those good encouraging messages- I absolutely adore Telemachus’s chorus. Every time I listen to it, my brain auto-fills the lyrics ahead, and I hear, “maybe it’s all gonna be okay,” but then Telemachus actually sings the verse and it’s “maybe it’s all gonna turn out great!” And that’s just… such a good thing to think about. Yeah, it’s gonna be okay in the end, but what if it was better than okay? What if it turned out to be absolutely amazing?? That’s… such a positive way to view things and I need it more in my life. Of course it could get toxic but for me, it’s a great reminder of how good things can become

Love in Paradise

I read a post that mentioned how the happiest song in the Thunder Saga is called Suffering, and the saddest song in the Wisdom Saga is called Love in Paradise, and I hate how accurate that is T^T

THE TIME DIVE MONTAGE WAS SO GOOOD- such a fun mini mash-up of the rest of the songs! I wish I had more to say about it because I want to keep gushing over it but I’m just gonna end up repeating myself saying it’s so good

The little replay of the “Captain?” “I have to see her” ;-;

WANGUI’S VOCALS— I CAN’T— THEY’RE SO GORGEOUS *unintelligible squealing*

“She’s my wife”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“Anyways-“

Her voice is so pretty help I don’t approve of her actions but her VOICE HER VOICE

Can I also just say the animatic/visuals for this section were also gorgeous, such a great compliment to the audio

The way it goes from all sweet and bouncy to “oh ****” and right back to sweet was so good

“Last I checked goddesses can’t die!!” *cue the Wisdom Saga stream crash of 2024*

The cliff scene… oh my goodness it’s so *good* it’s all so *good* Jorge how are you so good at writing

He pays such close attention to characters and motifs and lines too- you can hear how Calypso triggers Odysseus’s flashback.

NOT TO MENTION- when Odysseus yells his line “All I hear are SCREAMS”, it’s in response to Calypso’s line “I’ll stay inside your heart”- which is Odysseus’s mom’s lyric from the underworld!! I literally just noticed the connection between the line and his reaction and I haven’t seen anyone else mention it before so-

And Athena’s little “he needs my help”- aaaaaa we all feel the pain

God Games

Oh *boy howdy* this one is a doozy

The intro is great, I adore Zeus’s voice- this cast is just FULL of talented voice actors man

“… Hera!…. Or me” …. A-wha-huh? I’m sorry didn’t you used to be “and”???

I was intrigued what Apollo’s grievance would be based on the whole “who’s cows” debacle- the sirens kinda threw me off guard xD

His voice is ✨✨✨ though, I love listening to him

JORGE’S DAD HEPHAESTUS!!!!! Aghhh his voice was so good for the part! And I loved the commentary on trust too

Aphrodite’s and Ares’s parts are still amazing even after all this time- I LOVE the details of Ares’s musical motif! He has the same melody as Athena, but played on this raw-sounding violin/cello? And he *also* has quick thought- but it still all feels different from Athena’s too! Because they’re both gods of war but with different domains and attributes AAAA so good!

And Athena’s lyrics in response- I love the re-do and the little extra quirks in it, like the extra growl on “ARES!!!” And the little riff(?) on “his son’s my FRIIIIEND”

Hera’s part was amazing. 100/10. Her voice was a lot… smoother than I was expecting honestly. It took a bit of getting used to but now I love it. And I am HERE for the dance battle

“Never once has he cheated on his wife”

“Release him.”

10/10 ✨✨✨

I was… really excited for an Athena/Zeus debate in this song when listening to all the snippets. I couldn’t wait to see how Athena would try and persuade Zeus, what arguments he would use specifically, how it would all go down… instead I got uh-

“I played your game and won! Release him.”

Oh so, no Zeus round? Ohh this is why it got changed to “or” isn’t it-

“You DARE to defy me?”

Huh-

“To make me feel shame?”

What’s happeni-

“No one beats me, NO ONE WINS MY GAME!!”

Oh boy howdy-

“THUNDER BRING HER THROUGH THE WRINGER, SHOW HER I’M THE JUDGEMENT CALL, THE ONE WHO MAKES HER KINGDOM FAAAAALL—“

I’M SORRY THIS WENT FROM 10 TO 100 SO FAST WHAT IS HAPPENING?!—

Athena in the flashback scene- holding baby Telemachus- the music- my HEART

And the end instrumental is so triumphant aaaaaa

“Let him gooooo! Please-“ JORGE WHEN I GET YOU JORGE—

Uh, so

My thoughts on God Games right after it came out were

Mixed

At first I was so absolutely frazzled from the livestream I could barely put thoughts together outside of incoherent screaming

But then I read a few tumblr posts about how some others were disappointed in how God Games ended and Zeus’s character- and I found myself agreeing :/

I do have a propensity for latching onto different opinions because I think they’re the “expected” one for me to have- and I totally think a bit of that was going on here- so I took some time off of tumblr/limiting my scrolling (which needed to be stopped anyways-) to really sort out how I felt on this

And I think I feel a bit stilted by God Games from its ending. The ending was… underwhelming? Which sounds INSANE considering the end of the stream but it’s underwhelming less because of actual shock factor and more because of what specifically happens versus my expectations.

Zeus just kind of… blasts Athena in the face??? Without provocation?? Athena DID win his game, she passed the terms he set out, she did all of that… and he shocks her anyways. It just. Doesn’t really sit right with me.

But I love Epic, and want to enjoy every song I come across, and I REALLY didn’t want this view of the ending of God Games to taint the rest of the song or the rest of the musical. So in my next big post, I’m going to do a mini “rewrite”/reworking of God Games that I’ve been toying around with in my mind for a little while now!!

I’ll explain more about why and what and the details in that post but for now, just know that it’s been a helpful exercise in enjoying God Games as it is too, and I’ll get to posting that the next time school isn’t absolutely crushing me with long homework assignments

Anyways, those are my kinda-in-depth thoughts about the Wisdom Saga!! I’ve been so excited to write this out and I’m happy to be posting it finally

[superpyodan]

This is a silly little thing I wrote of @clarisinne's Cringefail Farmer, my Kenny, and The Harvey Debacle™️. Seeing the fanarts inspired me but I wasn't in the mood to draw, so now this exists. It's very self-indulgent (because i am Obsessed with cringefail) but PLEASE... enjoy...

—————

‘’And then,’’ Clarice says, flinging her arms into the air dramatically, ‘’I felt his dick on my leg!’’

Kenny stops dead in his tracks and turns to look at Clarice, comically slowly. Really, he should have been expecting it. She asked him to go out for a ‘walk’, and despite how uncharacteristic it was, Kenny assumed she meant well. It’s a nice day — Maybe she just wanted to get some fresh air, or a break from her farm work. But, she hasn’t stopped talking about Harvey since the second she and Kenny locked eyes. Even when she’s not talking about Harvey directly, he still drips from her words.

‘’Okay? That’s- That’s good though, right? Or bad? Honestly, it’s hard to tell, with you.’’

‘’Uh, bad, obviously. Like - What the fuck do I do about that?’’ Clarice asks. She’s obviously flustered, but hiding it under a thick layer of feigned irritation. Usually, she’s feisty. A firework on the brink of explosion, a person born from the embers of a campfire. Her emotions don’t come out gently, and being abrasive is not something she shies away from. Kenny has seen this exact type of person a million and one times, and there is no way he’d believe that Clarice genuinely believes that she is in a bad situation. Difficult, maybe even a little embarrassing, but not bad.

‘’Was your real motivation for asking me to hang out, to ask for sex advice?’’ Kenny inquires, squinting a little. He figures it’s better to rip the band-aid off instead of dancing around the subject. With Clarice’s temperament, they’d get nowhere doing the latter.

Immediately, she goes bright red, a defensive look spreading across her face. Her instinct, Kenny assumes, is to immediately deny. They’re just friends, hanging out, and talking about friend stuff — Until they’re not. Something Kenny’s been forced to learn over the years is that sometimes, you need other people. Even if it’s embarrassing, or awkward to talk about, you need other people. He can be ‘other people’ for Clarice, if only she’d admit she actually wants help.

‘’Fuck no. Obviously not. I’m just- I’m just saying!’’ She exclaims, just as Kenny expected. So, he holds his palm up to her, preventing a continuation.

‘’No. If you want to talk about this, we can.’’ He assures. Clarice looks straight at him, frantic eyes transitioning into a softness, defensiveness turning into quiet nerves. Quickly, her intentions become clear. She did want to talk about it.

Clarice sighs, and collapses cross-legged into the grass. Kenny shuffles a little then lowers himself to sit in front of her, their knees touching.

‘’I tried to talk to Shane,’’ Clarice starts, ‘’But he was useless. He wanted nothing to do with it.’’

‘’Uh, yeah. Shane’s great at emotional support, but… Yeah. He’d never in a million years discuss sex with anyone. He caught me and Alex making out once and almost killed us and then himself.’’ Kenny reminisces, and it makes Clarice laugh.

‘’Do you fucking know what he said? He was like, ‘I wasn’t even aware Harvey had a dick before all this’, and then started yelling. And then I was yelling, and it was chaos, and I’m never fucking talking to him about anything ever again.’’ She explains, much chirpier than she was while telling the Harvey story. That’s the thing with Clarice — It’s important to match her energy. If Kenny doesn’t make it weird and awkward, she won’t either.

So, he giggles along with her, leaning back on his hands and allowing the sun to hit his face. ‘’Right, well, I’m not gonna yell at you. So, like.. Shoot. I know I seem kind of lame, but I do have experience under my belt, especially with men. Excuse the pun.’’

Clarice grins up at Kenny, before closing her eyes and taking a deep and contemplative breath. It’s a little strange, but he’s grateful that she’s willing to confide in him about something so personal. Sure, he doesn’t know Harvey very well. He can be a bit of a mess, and just as anxious as she is. If Clarice doesn’t get anything productive out of the conversation, at least she will have spoken. For Kenny, that’s good enough. He understands the importance of being able to get things off one’s chest.

‘’I just… Ugh. I don’t know how to go about this situation with him! I haven’t been in a relationship for so long, and like… I really like him. What if it gets ruined if we have sex? What if he thinks I’m a loser?’’ Clarice rambles a little, stumbling over her words, a dust of pink sprinkled over her cheeks. Kenny, however, furrows his eyebrows.

‘’Uh, dude. He got hard just from kissing you. I don’t think you need to worry about him thinking you’re a loser.’’

‘’Men are just like that, though! They’re easily entertained!’’ Clarice retaliates.

‘’Yeah, exactly. If anything, he’s the loser. Men are losers. You’re cool and pretty and literally don’t need to worry about any of that. As for the other stuff, though…’’ Kenny trails off, allowing himself a moment to really think through what he’s going to say. Sensitive subject, sensitive words.

For a moment, he thinks back to the beginning of his relationship with Alex, trying to pull inspiration and advice from that. he was cautious — Terrified of making Alex uncomfortable, terrified of something going disastrously wrong. But, neither of those things happened. They fell into each other very naturally, eventually throwing caution to the wind and exploring each other in a way that suited them both. It seems to have been the way in every relationship Kenny’s had.

‘’I think having sex with someone is something that just, kinda… Naturally happens, over time. If you feel the need to discuss it first, you will. If it just randomly ends up happening, as long as you’re both comfortable, then so be it. Just, go with each other’s flow, you know? I bet Harvey’s nervous about it too, but you guys will come around. It’ll work. And if it doesn’t, then you can just try again. God knows me and Alex had some blunders at first.’’ Kenny says, trying his best to articulate himself well. Clarice nods thoughtfully, but Kenny’s advice isn’t quite enough.

‘’But what do guys even like? I haven’t had sex in so long. What if I’ve forgotten how?’’

He tries to suppress it, but Clarice’s question makes Kenny laugh. Amusement born from love, but amusement nonetheless.

‘’Uh, you definitely haven’t forgotten how to have sex. You forget that humans have been having sex since literally the beginning of our existence. For most of us, it’s pretty hard-wired. You just need to get to know him, explore your options, even ask him straight-up. Genuinely — You’ll figure it out. I know you’re shitting yourself about it now, but, I can promise you with almost one-hundred percent certainty that it’ll be okay. Good, even.’’

Clarice unties the ribbon from her braid, then starts re-braiding it in silence, giving herself a moment to let Kenny’s words truly seep into her brain. It seems to be working — Visually, she’s less tense. Her face is softer, and her shoulders aren’t attached to her ears anymore. Kenny knows that his advice isn’t going to magically absolve her of her anxieties, but if her body language is anything to go by, it’s managed to absolve something. Something is better than nothing.

‘’So, what you’re saying, is that I need to get over myself.’’ Clarice concludes, retying the ribbon in her hair. Kenny smiles at her.

‘’Well — Maybe a little bit. It’s normal to be nervous, but like… I genuinely think you’ll be okay. And if you’re not, you know where to find me, yeah? And please. If you guys do have sex, I want to know all about it.’’

‘’Pervert.’’ Clarice remarks playfully. ‘’But, yeah. Thank you, Kenny. Seriously.’’

‘’Of course. Any time.’’ Kenny replies, soft and sincere.

[thesundanceghost]

Do I have to remind people that using they/them as a placeholder pronoun for people they aren’t sure about is fine but also once you ask and they tell you they prefer something else you can’t just… keep using they/them.

[gatoburr0]

I wanted to join idk

sharing is caring ffs Riley 😒😒 (read tags psst)

[chibishortdeath]

I just realized that I have a TON of picmix gifs I haven’t shown yet : O. Lydie’s gets to be her own separate post because I love her she’s so bestie and I’m very proud of this one :3.

[bitchapalooza]

Thinking about how Zoro may have mixed and complicated feelings about Koushirou because on one hand that’s his sensei and he was taught to respect his sensei, but on the other hand he caused his own daughter, Zoro’s best friend, so much pain and constantly berated her to her face about how she’ll never be strong like the boys nor will she ever inherit the dojo. Like. Zoro cannot have one straight forward opinion on this man, he HAS to have some back and forth opinions on this guy I mean come on!