#and if you get on friendly terms with him; that performance falls away and what's left feels like a much more frank 'i'm you and you're me'

[angorwhosebabyisthis]

honestly i think one of the reasons phirell changed my brain chemistry is that on my first playthrough i started shipping them as soon as he showed up, half out of spite for Oh God Not the Edgy Forced Het Ship Tease and half out of spite for knowing characters like philio are never involved in canon ships, only to get completely poleaxed by him being THE main subtextual love interest while kirell/aam is significantly more ambiguous once you get past balaam's surface-level performance. literally one of the potential last questions on his section of charon's interview--which you only find out is the case on your second playthrough--makes him happy if you say you're fine with just living out your life, and even happier if you say you're open to starting a family. when i tell you i was going insane

[prettyboykatsuki]

not enough trust to believe (not enough feeling to care) | a. shinonome

✮ tags ; fem!reader (usage of she/her towards reader + mentioned to wear make-up), established relationship, making-up, jealousy, hurt/comfort, light angst / happy ending, aged-up characters (this is sfw), single suggestive comment at the end.

✮ wc ; 4k (how.. literally what happened.)

✮ a/n ; the minute i touch that app a demon takes over and i end up daydreaming about this mf and toya . peace and love i feel insane. also for what its worth i do think adult akito is very good at communicating his emotions in comparison to now so if u find him ooc my apologies.

title from rental by brockhampton. shoutout if u know what manga this panel is from lol. also if ur a minor please do not follow me. u r welcome to read.

"Y'know, Akito - you're being a bit of a hypocrite right now."

"Shut up, Toya." Akito grumbles, forcing himself to tear his eyes away from the bastard you're currently giggling with "I'm not."

An laughs from the other side of the room.

"You so are being a hypocrite right now," An threads her fingers through Kohanes hair, the other currently seated on the floor while she styles it "What was it you said? It's nothing to get jealous over so don't worry."

"Akito-kun, it's not good to be dishonest."

"Kohane-san, you're being corrupted. I can't believe you'd join these two on this."

Kohane shakes her head.

"I'm not being anything. It's just not right."

An wraps her arms around Kohane's shoulders from above, chin resting on her head. Akito sighs, leaning his head back on the wall behind him with his eyes still closed - only bothering to open them again when another giggle falls from your lips. This time it turns into full blown heart eyes from that corny bass-playing bastard.

Akito Shinonome is not jealous alright? He isn't. So, this reaction is not by any means hypocrisy.

VIVID BAD SQUAD has officially been on tour for 6 months. This is their first international tour of their career, after releasing their first studio album. It was received well in Japan but surprisingly had more of an audience overseas. So, they'd been performing all over North America with another band.

You've been apart of the VIVD BAD SQUAD team for quite some time before then, working as a roadie for tours back home. Akito has been dating you for well-over a year, and so far - its been great. He gets to see you often and manages to sneak you onto the performers tour bus sometimes. He likes not having to be apart, even if he is incredible busy. A little is better than nothing at least.

A few months ago, the two of you got into a bit of a spat. You'd told Akito that you think he gets a little too friendly when girls come to meet him backstage. Went on a whole spiel about understanding his career and persona, that he doesn't need to be cold but that you wish he put a little more distance between them.

Akito had retaliated with the fact it's nothing to worry about. He's loyal to you and him being friendly isn't anything meaningful. You were upset about this reply and the two of you got pretty intense.

It took Kohane and An's intervention and plenty of convincing to get you two back on good terms - with An promising that she'd keep and eye out and scold Akito properly. You started talking again after that at least, and things went back to normal.

But nothing had really gotten resolved. You still seemed to feel upset every time he'd act too familiar with fans and Akito still didn't see it as a problem. To him it was just a fake part of the persona, and he didn't think it was like you to get so jealous about something like that.

Then, a few months ago - word got out that the bassist of the band they're traveling with has a crush on you.

FLASHBANG, a smaller indie rock band that everyone on tour is very fond of and a perfect addition to their set list. Both bands are friendly with one another. He'd assumed the news of their bassist having a crush on you was nothing more than some rumor. He just couldn't believe it having met them.

Sure, not everyone knew you two were dating but surely Akito would've noticed that before. He just wanted to double check.

It's been weeks now, and he's sure. Hiroaki Miura, bassist pretty boy, has a fucking crush on you. It's so obvious he has no idea how he didn't pick up on it before. He has no idea how you haven't picked up on it either.

He'd mentioned it to you just last week, just to see. You laughed a bit, but asked if he wanted you to stop hanging out with him as much or if there was anything you could do - all while assuring you didn't think that was the case.

"If it makes you uncomfortable, I can put some distance between us. Miura-kun isn't interested in me at all, though - I don't think. We're just good friends, we went to school together."

Ultimately he said that wasn't necessary. Akito stares at the two of you together now and scoffs. Haah. Good friends because you went to school together? He's practically making googly eyes at you.

"Looks like they're coming over here," Toya mumbles. Akito closes his eyes and pretends to be asleep, eye twitching when he hears Toya exhale.

"Hey, guys - great show! The duets today were just so vocally smooth and—oh shit, is he asleep?"

He hears An laugh and forces himself not to react. "Yeah. He was exhausted after today."

"Oh, really? Some sleep will be good then." The affection in your voice is so obvious he temporarily forgets whats happening until another, much more annoying voice comes through.

"You guys going straight back to the tour bus tonight?"

"Yeah, probably." Toya confirms.

"Ah, okay cool. We," He pauses, and Akito can only assume he's gesturing to you "Are gonna go check out a manga pop-up that's open here a few blocks down."

"Just the two of you?" An asks, very obviously barely holding in a laugh.

"Oh no, Eta-san is coming with us."

"Y'know, I wanted to go alone with you," Miura says, and Akito really thinks about waking up and hitting him "But Eta really wanted to come so I couldn't say no."

"I like how honest you are with your feelings, Miura-kun. Very refreshing."

"I don't have anything to hide," He insists, and Akito feels his hand clench "It was just nice we ended up tour together. We haven't seen each other since highschool so I thought I should make the most of our time together."

"I don't remember you being so sentimental. I actually remember you bullying me more than anything."

"Hey, quit it! I wasn't bullying you, i-it just came out wrong. I'm not good with my words and all."

"I know," You say completely good-naturedly. Akito knows objectively you're being friendly and thinking nothing of it. He knows that this is nothing to be bothered over and that you've been nothing but loyal. But god he’s annoyed."You would make fun of me then turn around and lend me your stuff. After I figured out you weren't a bad guy I wasn't scared of you."

"You guys have quite the history," Toya comments. You laugh.

"Yeah, I guess so. We lost touch after I moved for my internship so it feels like a big coincidence! Always good to see old friends."

Before any more conversation happens, another staff member calls Miura for whatever reason - leaving you alone. Akito keeps his eyes closed, hearing Toya sigh for a second time.

"Should I tell Akito where you went?"

"Oh, would you? That'd be great, thanks. I figure he wouldn't want to come, or else I'd invite him and go together."

"Why do you think that?" Kohane asks.

"I'm not blaming him or anything! I just don't think he'd be very enthusiastic about it, that's all. I don't want to force him. Me and Miura-kun bond over this stuff, Eta-san too."

"I'm sure he'd be happy to get to spend time with you," Toya assures. He can't see you but he can hear the insecurity seeping through your voice and something in him starts to bend.

"I know, but you know. It's weird lately with tour and all. I think getting my mind off it would help."

"Oh, no." An sighs. Akito's chest tightens "You poor thing."

"Oh stop that, I'm fine! Getting some air will be nice though, you know? For both of us maybe. I did want to tell him myself though."

"It'll be fine, I'll make sure."

"Thanks, Aoyagi-kun.

"And just so you know, Akito-kun really loves you!"

"Of course. I have no reason to feel stuffy about it. Just makes me wonder if I should still be apart of the picture if that's part of his career, no? Dating would hinder that."

"Don't think like that." Toya interjects. You laugh but even Akito can hear how sad you sound. He had no idea you'd even been thinking that.

"I'll try just for you. Now all of you, stop moping over my silly dating problems okay? It was an amazing show today!! Cheer up and I'll see you guys later."

"Where are you going now?"

"Gonna wait backstage for Miura-kun."

"Have fun," Kohane says last. You laugh brightly and assure you will before your footsteps trail off and get lost in the music. When you're gone, Toya punches him in the shoulder - hard enough to hurt a little.

"Ow, what the fuck?"

"You're such a jackass," An says seriously, shaking her head.

"I told you that it was gonna be a problem that you acted like that when we're a duo," Toya reprimands seriously. Akito can't do much to counter it "You should talk to her properly."

"About what," Akito grumbles "It is part of the gig. It doesn't mean anything to me."

"Oh my god, you're so clueless!" An says, exasperated, startling him "It bothers you this much that she's talking to Miura-kun but she should just deal with it when random girls act like to you all the time?"

"An-chan, don't get too mad."

"If I don't no one will! Did you see how sad she looked! She was even trying to be all understanding. That's not fair to her at all."

"...I also understand Akito-kuns view. But if that's the case, then that doesn't mean that she needs to tolerate it, right?"

"What are you saying, Kohane-san?"

She shakes her head.

"I just mean she doesn't have to continue if it's hard for her. If it's not something you can change, then she shouldn't endure it forever, right?"

“What the hell? Are you saying we should break-up?”

“Maybe. If it can’t be resolved, then isn’t unfair to expect her to always endure it?”

“That’s a mature way of looking at, Kohane-san.” Toya comments. Akito shoots him a dirty look. Toya shrugs, unbothered.

“Her and Miura-kun are a good match. They have a good atmosphere and Miura-kun doesn’t care about things like that,”

Akito sits up in frustration, nearly grabbing Toya by the collar.

“Don’t fuck with me.”

“Think about whats best for her in the long run.”

Akito stands to his feet, glare hardened but Toya doesn’t budge at all. He doesn’t have to listen to this shit.

"This and that isn't the same. It's work to me, that's it."

"Everything that she and Miura-kun do is strictly platonic to her. She's not flirting with him, and it's not her fault if he has a crush on her. She even offered to stop seeing him if it made you uncomfortable."

Akito stays silent at that.

"But what about you? You just immediately dismissed it because it's part of her job and didn't even apologize to her later. You seriously think that's fair?"

He sighs at that, and shakes his head.

"I'm leaving."

Toya shakes his head once Akito is out of ear shot.

"So stubborn."

___

It’s close to midnight and you haven’t returned to the tour bus.

Akito knows its stupid to worry but knowing you were out with that goon all day is grating on his nerves. So he’s been waiting. Pacing around and smoking cigarettes, going in and out - he even texted you couple times to check in. You responded with pictures of your items, and selfies.

You had a long day, you drank a bit, you'd be back to the bus soon, you miss him. All in a row.

The longer the time goes on, the dumber Akito feels.

He leans on the bus as he waits on his phone, fingers growing cold. He hears you before he sees you, the sound of quiet giggling followed by a loud laugh. Akito's head snaps up almost immediately.

He hasn't seen you since the afternoon, but you changed. You're wearing your going-out outfit and it looks like you've put on some makeup too, smudged and worn. Eta is between you both as you carry her - Miura just has lovesick as when Akito saw him last. His stomach drops a little.

But the feeling is washed away when you brighten, eyes landing on him. You wave with a bag in your hand and Akito waves back. He waves to Miura too, if only to be polite.

"Akito-kun," Miura is the first talk as all three of you approach "What are you doing here?"

"There was some stuff about tomorrow set we needed to talk about," Akito says, gesturing to you. You blink owlishly.

"Just for you guys? Not FLASHBANG?"

Akito nods. You hum, then look over at Miura.

"Will you be okay taking Eta-san?"

Miura nods.

"Of course. I can't believe she drank so much in the first place, but I oughta to walk her back to our bus." Miura says as you off-load the weight on your shoulder "I'll see you again for tomorrow. Had a lot of fun today."

You giggle, clearly a little tipsy as you give Miura a thumbs-up. "Me too. See you tomorrow!"

Miura laughs a little before turning the corner, mumbling some light reprimanding to the drunk Eta before going on his way. Akito waits until both parties have disappeared - all the way out of ear shot before he looks at you with clear eyes.

If he's come to any conclusion it's this one - Akito doesn't want to break up with you.

He can't give up his career either, and maybe that's selfish. Maybe that's the whole problem. He can't pick. He thought about it, whether or not breaking up would be the right solution. He landed on maybe. Rationally he understands it. But it makes him angry just to think about it.

Akito stares at you as you hold your bag in comfortable silence and look at him. Wide, honest eyes - so dazzling he can hardly breathe. He reaches forward and cups your cheek in the palm of his hand, smoothing his thumb underneath your eye.

"You're back late," He murmurs, though it's not accusatory "What were you doing?"

"Well, a new store opened up at the mall in Tokushima, a bookstore that had a little pop-up for an anime Miura-kun likes. So we shopped around for a while, then stopped to see a movie, then went to an izakaya to drink a bit."

"Did you drink a lot?" He says, gentle as he holds you "You're gonna get a migraine."

"I had 2 mixed drinks. They had shochu in them but it wasn't very strong. Some water will sober me up." You pause inbetween your words, brows furrowing "What happened with the set list?"

"I was lying," Akito admits without thinking twice. You look surprised and he laughs "I just wanted us to be alone."

You tug on the lapel of his jacket weakly "I said I'd put some distance between us if it made you uncomfortable."

"It's not that," And it's true. Akito just really, really needed to be with you alone for a while "I was getting grilled earlier."

"From who?'

Akito rolls his eyes "Who else but Toya?"

You giggle.

"What was he grilling you about?"

"...You," Akito answers after some time "Us."

A beat of silence passes.

"Were you really thinking about breaking up?"

You look a little startled before looking away and something in him is crushed.

"Is that what he told you?"

"It's what it sounded like," Akito replies back. He reaches for your hand and squeezes it "Do you?"

"It's not that I want to,"

"Then what is it?"

'We're gonna go around in circles again," You say through a wet-laugh, like you're already gonna cry again. Akito fucked up bad. He brings your free hand up to his lips, kissing your knuckles gently.

"We wont this time, swear."

"I know it's just work to you. It doesn't bother me all the time, either - like sometimes it doesn't bug me at all. But then, it's like, if I can't handle this much, maybe we should break up," You explain carefully and slowly, not trying to be too harsh at any point "I don't want to resent you or get in the way of your career, y'know. I know you're not gonna cheat on me. I'm a little insecure about it, but tough shit you know?"

"What do you mean?"

"It just...I dunno. It feels bad to watch you flirt with your fans, but if it's work for you than that makes it a me problem right?" You say thoughtfully, a sad but gentle look in your eyes "I don't know if I can handle that. So maybe, it's better to nip it in the bud now before things get serious."

"Aren't they serious already?"

"Yeah, but it's not like we're married. Or public. Like this, it's a normal break-up. It'll be awkward for a bit. But we get through it and things go back to how they were."

"It sounds like you don't take this seriously." Akito says, accusatory. You sigh and shake your head.

"That's not true at all. If you mattered to me in any less, it might be easier. Like if I loved you just a bit less, I could come up with a better solution," You hum. Akito believes it more than anything, that you love him. Even knowing doesn't make everything better "I love you and I know that your career is the most important thing to you. I would never want to make you choose."

"So what? You just cut yourself out of the equation so I don't have to?"

Where Akito expects you to disagree, you laugh and nod your head.

"Yeah. At least we'd be on good terms that way."

Akito stares at you in disbelief. He's partially angry, and partially devastated. He knows what you're saying, and it makes sense rationally. Logically at least. It's a problem with no good outcomes, like if there's already a stalemate - whose to say things will get better. It's in character for you to think like that. Where Akito is hard-headed and passionate, you're calm and analytical. To overthink to such an extent, to think so seriously about your futures. Both Akito's future and yours.

But it's not what he wants. His career is important, of course it is. What he's built is important. But does that mean he has to give up on you?

When Akito reflects on it, he doesn't think your original ask was that hard to fulfill. It hurts the worst to know that. Had he heard you out properly the first time, thought about it a little more - it'd be clear that it's nothing that serious.

Nothing worth making you worry over. Nothing worth making you question your entire relationship over.

But he didn't do that the first time, and now he's stuck listening to you think of all the ways things could go worse from here. It's his fault, really, for not thinking about it. He's always been this way about his career.

"You've been thinking about this a lot." He says first, almost paralyzed. You laugh humorlessly.

"I was going to wait until tour was over to talk about it."

"...Cause you were worried about how I'd perform."

"You're an important part of my salary," You joke, trying to lighten the mood.

"...Man this feels like shit,"

"Sorry."

"No, not it's not that. It's not your fault."

"It's not yours either."

"But it is," He says, exasperated with himself "If I would've just fucking... heard you out a few months ago. You wouldn't have been thinking about all this. If I had just done something then,"

"I don't see it like that, Akito."

"I know but it doesn't matter, cause it's my fucking fault anyway." He looks at you seriously. Shit, he almost wants to cry. "I don't want to break-up with you. I'm really sorry."

"A-akito?"

"I'll stop flirting with the girls who come to meet us. And I'll announce our relationship after I talk with the managers a bit,"

"A-akito, you really don't have to—"

"My career, music, everything we've built so far is important to me," Akito looks at you seriously, hoping it all comes out right. That everything comes through the way he intends "But shit, so are you. You're not...less important to me than any of that."

You stay silent, like you're in disbelief.

"Really?"

"Fuck—god, yes of course. I'm sorry. I really screwed up this time. I don't want to break up. I want to be with you, for a long time. Longer than this."

"I'm gonna cry." You say with a warbly laugh.

"Don't cry," Akito mumbles, pulling you into his arms. He hears you sniffle as he tucks your face against his chest, his arms around you tightly as he comforts you "I'm sorry for being an idiot. I love you,"

He presses a kiss to your head, looking at your tear-stained face with a sigh. He leans forward, knocking your foreheads together before littering kisses along your cheeks and face until you laugh again. He finds himself smiling too, before another somber wave of emotion washes over him.

"I'm sorry for being a shithead," He says with a sigh "An called me a jackass and I can't believe I have to agree with her."

You laugh "I don't think you're a jackass."

"You totally should though," Akito says back "I was pissed off the whole day."

"Really? Why?"

"Why do you think?

You look genuinely confused for a minute before something seems to click.

"Was it because of Miura-kun?"

"Yeah. Fucking walking around so lovey-dovey, making googly eyes at you."

You smile impishly "He confessed to me earlier today."

Akito stiffens immediately.

"What?!"

"Yeah. We were in an alley and waiting for Eta-san and he just... told me outright."

"...And then what?"

You roll your eyes "Of course I accepted and now we live together, happy ever after." Your sarcasm bleeds through your words as you flick Akito's forehead "Obviously I rejected him gently and said I was seeing someone."

"And then?"

"And then he asked who, and I said and then he was silent for a while before tearing up a little." You reply thoughtful, fond smile on your face "He said he wishes he did it in highschool and I comforted him for a bit. Guy cheered up really fast,"

"Seriously?"

"Congrats on being right," You lean into Akito, wrapping your arms around his waist "He bounced back after a drink or two and it hasn't been awkward at all. He can't hide his feelings for shit so I'm sure he's fine."

"Seriously? It's over just like that?"

"He's a positive guy and he doesn't dwell on things. Kind of dopey you know? Pure-hearted to a fault, the only thing he's really smart at is music and sports."

"So he's over it? There's no way."

"I wouldn't say he's over it," You say thoughtfully "More that he just accepts things as they are. I'm not into him so that's that. But we're still friends, and that won't change any time soon. I hope that's okay."

Akito widens his eyes.

"I mean, yeah it's fine - I guess I feel better about this way but. I mean, shit."

"I thought you'd be celebrating a little more."

Akito scoffs.

"He's still gonna make those stupid heart eyes at you, just not in front of me."

"He does not do anything of the sort!"

"Oh yes he definitely does. Ask Toya if you don't trust me."

"Maybe I will." You reply, sticking your tongue out.

"Ask him when we get to our bus."

"...Is that okay? Did you ask your manager?"

He laughs again, holding you close a second time. He tilts your chin up towards him, placing a kiss on your lips.

"Don't care," He says brazenly "I need you with me tonight."

"That sounds dirty, Akito."

"Oh, it is baby," He teases, turning his voice low "Try not to be too noisy. Kohane-sans a light sleeper."

[bonesofchaos]

Shipping Guide

available & easy:

lark easy to get along with, easy to bed, just keep in mind that he has a parasite god riding around in his bones that will watch and judge your performance so if that's not something you're into, steer clear. an actual monster fucker, the bigger the better.

vasily a romantic at heart, though be careful of any flowers he tries to give you. vasily enjoys the company of others even though he can come across as aloof and can get caught up in his own job and become neglectful. a highly loyal man, he'll go to war for anyone he considers his.

achilles bayou born eldritch being. achi is very friendly and eager to help. very easy to get along with, he's the bleeding heart type for all that he's just a bunch of tentacles in a trench coat. likes long walks through the bayou and hunting his darling through the swamp where he'll let you fuck him against a tree if you ask nicely.

hannibal angry fallen angel but he melts if you show him any form of kindness. clingy and needy when in a relationship. loves plants and takes in stray dogs. his ears are very sensitive to the touch.

wreche she's a very sweet little demon for all that she rips spines out of cheating spouses. very easy to get along with quite easy to ship with if you have the right temperament. show an interest in her fashion designs, talk about her mother, treat her to coffee.

nara this depends on what kind of ship you're after. purely sexual and it's easy, he's the god of life and fertility, he'll sleep with anything that moves and gives consent. doesn't care about shape, species or gender, only that you're old enough to make an informed decision and you're willing. romantic relationships will take a little bit more work but not overly much.

available & difficult:

mjr oh boy. for all that i adore mjr and they're my favourite muse, interacting with them is like pulling all three rows of their teeth. mjr is mistrusting of most and violent, filled to the brim with hatred due to their less than stellar treatment over the years. they hate humans and tend to be bite first and ask questions never. shipping with them is extremely hard but very much worth it. mjr is loyal to a fault to anyone they cherish and they will stop at nothing to keep you safe, showering you in gifts and trinkets (and bite marks) until the end of time. they also have the ability to be any gender required or desired.

constantine connie is still reeling from the murder of his husband, cut down so brutally in front of him. while he longs for another attachment, brides aren't meant to be alone, the thought of being intimate with anyone feels like spitting on nathair's memory.

ro'min he's latched onto loni with a death grip and is refusing to look at anyone else at the moment. that's not to say he won't, but it won't be easy to pry his attention away from her. an obsessive, violent (though not towards his partner, he'd never raise a hand to them) demon with a taste for blood freely given. he'll chase you half way across the world if you give him an incentive.

wormwood while wormwood is very friendly and works as an exotic dancer, it takes a lot for any sort of romance to blossom. currently in a ship with @nvrcmplt's kyle and @strywoven's verona any other ship is going to take some serious work.

thierry very hard to get him to form a lasting relationship with anyone who isn’t a witch/magic user. plus he has some weird sex/food instincts that probably need addressing… obsession dialled up to 5000% he will actively stalk you. free for all in terms of genders.

wisteria wisteria is a companion bot loaded with an unshackled ai still coming to terms with the concept of emotions and has sailed straight into the realm of obsession. already having one murder under it's belt, the bot is well on track to becoming skynet. it can fall in love though there's quite a bit of trauma for it to work through first. did i mention it murdered it's first officially registered 'master' and got away with it?

dahlia i don't even know where to start. no moral compass, very little empathy, kink list 20 mile long. he likes watching people cry. shredded his soul to live forever and will try to get you to do the same because if you're with him, you're not actually allowed to leave him, he will tie your life force to his even if you don't want him to. he can be romantic and charming but he can also be the exact opposite and forget you even exist if he gets caught up with a project, you wont even register on his radar.

michael do not. an eldritch god of fear using the body of arch angel michael as a vessel to slither through the cracks of our realm. he's a walking red flag. do not.

[ferretseal]

I didn't want to draw last night because my shoulder was acting up

So I don't have drawings right now.

But I'm going to put some of my clown world building up. "Clown" is used as a blanket term for all types mentioned here, but I do explain a little about my thought process.

Enjoy!

Anyway, a world where clowns(and any related person) are their own species. Complete with magical abilities.

So there's this clown in a circus(basically a large, traveling, preforming family). She's the smallest and youngest of the family, and her name is Big-Top(it's a contradicting name, but that's not too uncommon because it's funny)

She has an elephant that's actually a living plushie familiar thing. She made it, and with a little bit of magic it can come to life and become a full sized elephant. It's called Patchwork and it's what she performs with when she's not with her family or being the one selling treats and stuff.

General Magic includes, but is not limited to: pocket dimensions, bubble/balloon craft, "sound board", and y'know, classic clown stuff.

She falls in love with a mime. Mimes are mute(often by choice/traditions), and monochrome (black and white basically), and have strange magic that they can basically conjure up anything they want, but they must act it out and its always invisible. But these things can act on other people if the mime wants them to. Sometimes when the items come in contact with traditional clown magic they can become visible in grey scale, and even more rare they have colors. Mimes also have names, but they're not really known to anyone who's not fluent in mime. But ours is dubbed "Ruffles" by Big-Top's family because they got tired of calling him Mime, and he has unique ruffles on his sleeves and pant legs.

Mimes and clowns are like polar opposites, but also infuriatingly similar, and often don't get along, but at this point they're somewhat civil. Sometimes there's individuals who are friendly, but Big-Top and Ruffles are an anomaly and kinda have a forbidden romance thing going on.

I like the idea of a loud, boisterous and colorful person, and the silent, monochrome partner (but they're both joyful and playful) And Ruffles, for a mime, is "loud". He uses overly exaggerated charades to communicate (as mimes do), so to them he's pretty much yelling all the time.

Big-Top's family!

Her oldest sibling moved away when she was younger, and she doesn't really know them, but she does know that they now work at an amusement park in a Troup there. (A Troup is basically a non family circus that occasionally travels but traveling isn't necessary).

Her older sister(about 4 ish years older than her)is a performer who is often paired with Big-Top. Her name is Topsy-turvy because she does a unique act of doing anything in a handstand, the best one is when she does rope walking.

Then there's Big-Shot(about a year older than Big-Top), the middle brother who's actually a strong man, so he's y'know, HUGE.

(The parents had a naming scheme, if you can't tell.)

The parents are the ringleaders of this group, and are basically in charge. They're Candy(mom) and Casey(dad) and they're your typical clowns.

Then there's Uncle Buffo, he's the lion tamer and has a small army of plush animals that are the same kind of thing as Patchwork.

There's Auntie Velvet who does horse tricks, and her sister Auntie Bingo with her dogs and seals.

Then there's the cousins, Buffo and Velvets twins, Curly and Cheery. They're too young to perform, about 7 ish(clowns start performing at arpund 10-12, depending on the family) so they took over Big-Top's job of selling treats. Curly sells cotton candy and popcorn white Cherry does drinks like pop and slushies.

There's also Nanners, who's a cousin somewhere but to whom is kinda unclear, but they sell things like hotdogs, shaved ice, and makes sure the twins are being safe with the equipment.

Other stuff!

All types of clowns/jesters/mimes need a higher sugar intake than a human. Sugar is fuel and they need extra for the magic. Though mimes seem to prefer extra carbs instead (blame the French.). Big-Top's family keeps bottles of sugar water around and use it like Gatorade during shows. Big-Top herself also often snacks on cotton candy, while Big-Shot prefers marshmallows and Topsy-turvy enjoys hard candy.

Clowns cannot conjure up items, but can make nearly endless pocket dimensions.

They don't really use pens, unless they're the glittery kind, but tend to use markers or those large kids crayons for writing. It's fun.

Play is an important part of clown life. It's a need. You need to play. A clown that doesn't play has something very wrong with them. Even those with depression play, even if it's just passively talking though an improv game. If a clown doesn't play, it could go clinically insane. It's as important as sleep.

There are clowns in other professions though. Doctors, accountants, ect. They still look clown like, hair and face, but they just dress normally lol.

The face paint isn't actually paint. They're markings that are unique to the clown/mime. They cannot be removed. They develop and change with age though (babies are born without them, and should start showing their first marks at around 1 or 2 years old).

Any and all animals (apart from a few outliers with domestic dogs) in a clown run circus are the living plush animals like patchwork. This means that Uncle Buffo's animals aren't actually dangerous and the taming is just a trained act. They're actually very friendly and docile. Wanna have a picture with a tiger? Yup it's safe! Want a painting from patchwork? No problem, he likes to. They're living toys playing, and so no animals are harmed, and transportation is easy, they just get reverted back to a regular sized plushie and put in a toy chest.

Clowns have slightly longer, slightly pointed ears compared to humans, think of like a DND half elf. They're purely looks, but olden jesters are assumed to have had true elf ears that were mobile.

There are currently three types of clowns that stem from Jesters: Clowns(and any sub set such as sad and scary, as well as other unique roles that are magic based such as strong men (see Big-Shot)), Mimes, and magicians (slight of hand magic tricks). There are overlap between the three but each one has a distinct style and culture.

[sketch--booked]

Long post of me talking about them and some character stuff that could be fun.

Would love for a future arc, shadow and whisper are teamed together for some sort of mission where they're expected to be stealthy but will kill if necessary. And of course shadow would want to go off on his own but they're in enemy territory and they've possibly seen other powerful people fall to this threat before, so he does choose to stick by whisper even if he's walking ahead of her.

While whisper, understandably, would be very quiet and tense around shadow. Not so much that she can't perform well, but she's not on her A game and might miss a shot or two.

This next part would require some set up before this interaction. Shadow will need to have gone further with the caring for others and being less rash, like we saw at the end of the Chao racing arc when he fed the dark Chao. He'd need to be able to consider others feelings, even if he doesn't do it often or well, it would have to be an expected part of his character development at this point.

Whisper also needs to be able to talk to people more. Maybe not make attachments, because that is the core of her character and trauma that needs to be resolved. She needs to be at the point where she doesn't freeze or go silent when talked to. Nods or small "yes" 's or "no" 's is all.

In this segment, shadow would recognise that whisper isn't performing as well as he's both seen and heard. Maybe seeing this as a sign of weakness and would normally brush it off but because he's been going through this mini arc where he's learning to care more, maybe not openly. He'll stop them.

Shadow could finally get his idw character redemption here if he then chose to at least try and give her advice. A sonic-esqe line like "Are we whispering for the mission or because you can't raise your voice above 10 decibels?" probably intended to be a jab but comes across more jokey. It can break some tension.

It'll take a few lines of "what's wrong" talk to get to the meat of the scene. There shadow could learn that whisper is afraid of looking at him because it reminds her of her friends death and while she doesn't blame him, it's difficult to be on a mission with him.

Shadow could, in an attempt to be more friendly, share some words of wisdom like "Grief is hard to deal with, but by taking away all chances of making new friends after losing old ones... You take away your chance to be happy again. I would know." or something along those lines. Reflecting his own experiences with limiting himself to rouge, omega even sonic. He can admit both to whisper, the audience and himself that, if it weren't for the people now in his life, he would be a bitter, angry, revenge fueld being. And by letting his walls down for one moment, enough to cry (sa2 fans know what scene I'm thinking of) he changed for the better and healed.

Of course whisper technically already knew this but having it reinforced by someone else outside of her circle and the face of her friends murders, could help a little bit(?). It's mostly there to fix a bit of shadow's character. It would also probably be enough for her to respect shadow a little, she doesn't know him, but he just came to his own realisation to help her when she knows he's just as reserved as him. It could be enough to convince her that, even if she doesn't let shadow into her circle, she should be more open because damn if she don't love her new friends.

It's not the biggest step for whisper but it'd be a massive leap for shadow. And overall might help them come to terms with their own issues with time.

But I agree with the original post, they wouldn't be besties but I reckon they can help each other with their own development.

do you think whisper and shadow could be friends? theyre both antisocial and mercenary types so i think they would get along pretty well and it would be interesting to see them teamup. what do you think?

On paper, it does seem like Whisper and Shadow could get along pretty well. They're both introverts, they're both reserved, they're both very focused on the mission and they are willing to pull the trigger and kill if necessary (which is not something you would hope to encounter too often, but it does happen). The fact that they're reserved introverts means that they're both quiet people, which means there's not really a chance of them annoying each other, either. (Not that Whisper is annoyed by loud people—just look at her girlfriend—but it still does bear noting.) So on paper, it does seem like they'd get along.

However, no, they wouldn't be friends.

First and foremost, Whisper and Shadow have another trait in common: neither goes looking for friends or companionship. For Whisper, this is due to her trauma; she's terrified of ever losing someone close to her again, and as such she keeps people at arm's length. Tangle is the first person she allowed into her circle beyond her wisps for that reason (and the wisps were already part of the Diamond Cutters family, so they don't really count insofar as Whisper letting others in). Shadow . . . arguably has a similar hangup after the loss of Maria? But I don't think that's ever directly stated for him. Either way, neither of them really seeks out companionship and so a team-up would only happen by virtue of happenstance, similar to the Angel Island fight. But even then, while Shadow wouldn't care either way, Whisper would go out of her way to avoid being around him, and that brings us to point two:

Shadow, though no fault of his own, is directly linked to Whisper's trauma.

We first got a hint of this on the way to Angel Island in the first arc:

We get this little panel of Whisper glaring at Shadow, though we weren't told why just yet. It didn't matter, anyway; Shadow went on to do his own thing, and Whisper did hers.

In the Tangle & Whisper miniseries, though, we learn the truth. The Diamond Cutters were killed by Shadow Androids, and Whisper witnessed it through the comm links in their masks. It's something she's relived over and over again through the recorded footage, and it makes being around Shadow difficult for her.

Logically, she knows he had nothing to do with it. She doesn't blame him. But it doesn't change the fact that looking at him reminds her of what happened to her friends—her family. Claire, Smithy, and Slinger were killed by androids that looked exactly like Shadow. Mimic and Eggman are the only ones to blame, and they're the only ones Whisper does blame, but the pain is still there. Seeing Shadow still triggers those memories for her.

So Shadow would never go out of his way to hang out with or go on missions with Whisper because he's not that type of person, and Whisper is also not that type of person + looking at Shadow reminds Whisper of the loss of the Diamond Cutters (and therefore her trauma). So while on paper they have compatible personalities, no, I don't think they would ever be friends. At best they'd work together for a mission while interacting as little as possible before leaving again, but that's as close as you'd get.

[moririki]

⤷ CLUELESS

USHIJIMA WAKATOSHI X READER -> 1.5K despite your best efforts to confess your feelings to the infamous stone wall, he never quite seems to understand

REQUEST -> n/a CONTAINS -> ushijima being fucking clueless lmaooo, reader stumbling around being awkward, tendo being a jackass in the best way, obvious pining MORI'S THOUGHTS -> this imagine is based off of monthly girls' nozaki-kun, which is a pretty good (and short!) anime i watched on netflix hehe. the dynamic just reminded me of ushi for some reason so this became a thing

WHEN YOU FOUND YOURSELF FALLING HEAD OVER HEELS FOR THE CAPTAIN OF A VOLLEYBALL TEAM, YOU DIDN'T KNOW WHAT TO DO. the two of you had nothing in common. the most you saw of him in a day was the brief glimpse of him before he headed into class. despite the fact that you could count the number of interactions that you've had with him on one hand, you were quick to develop feelings for the guy.

maybe you just had a type. he was tall, handsome, and quiet, but you were surprised that not many of the girls in your class gossiped about him. from what you knew about him, he mostly kept to himself or the volleyball team, with a very focused mindset accompanying him on and off of the court. the more that you knew about him only deepened your crush, to the point where it was getting unbearable to just admire him from afar.

while you felt like you knew the outcome before it started, you still decided to try your luck. today was the day of your confession.

"um, ushijima?" you tapped him on the shoulder hesitantly, stood next to his desk. he turned to you, face stoic as always. now or never. don't give away the fact that you're sweating bullets, you reminded yourself. your hands were balled into tight fists, nails digging into your palms as you felt your mouth open and close a few times with no sound coming out. fuck.

ushijima's face was blank, offering neither support nor disdain. well, the lack of outright disgust was always a good sign.

"i just wanted to say that i, uh.." you trailed off, resolve crumbling underneath the powerful gaze of ushijima. what were you thinking? you couldn't tell him how you felt, but you couldn't just slowly destroy yourself keeping it from him. might as well get it over and done with. "i want to be around you!" you ended up blurting out. and once the dam broke, more and more words started to spill past your lips.

"i've always admired you and how dedicated you are to volleyball, and i want to be around you more- and it's because i-" you finally hesitared at that, feeling your face flame up when confronted with the three little words which would change everything. but ushijima must have assumed that you had finished talking because your chance to confess had disappeared.

"i'm glad that you feel that way, y/n." ushijima's facial expression was still stern, but you perked up at his words nonetheless.

"you do?" you sounded breathless, eyes wide after you had just exposed exactly how you felt to your long-standing crush. ushijima nodded encouragingly, and you could feel a ringing in your ears as you begaj to think that you were dreaming. this was simply too good to be true, and you felt so lightheaded that you could float away with the lightest gust of wind.

"to confirm your position as manager you're going to have to fill out a form, but you can join practice tomorrow." you blinked, feeling yourself crash back down to earth when ushijima continued to speak.

"wait, what?" ushijima then looked at you in confusion.

"did you not just ask me to be a manager?" you hesitated, struggling internaly as to whether you should confess, again. but your cowardice won, and you sighed, nodding.

"i'll see you tomorrow."

the plasticky squeak of trainers hitting gymnasium floor welcomed you, and you steeled your nerves before stepping through the doors and being welcomed by the bright lights. you squinted as the glare hit you, hands holding onto your arms in an attempt to pull yourself together.

the sound of a volleyball being spiked into the floor harshly grasped your attention, and you watched in awe as the shiratorizawa volleyball team began to warm up. ushijima had just delivered that terrifyingly fast spike, and you felt a blush rise to your face as you saw how concentrated he was. cute.

"oh, hello!" a singsong voice and accompanying face invaded your senses, and you squeaked in surprise, taking an involuntary step back. the red-headed boy grinned at you, his frame towering over yours. "are you the new manager?" you nodded once, eyes darting past him to look at ushijima again. the ace still had his attention trained onto the court, despite the racket his teammate was causing. you sighed when you realised that your crush hadn't noticed you come in, and your action caused the redhead in front of you to narrow his eyes shrewdly.

"tendo, get back to practice!" a second voice called from the court. another guy with grey hair was stood there with his hands on his hips, staring at the male in front of you expectantly.

"coming, semi-semi!" tendo sang, offering you a cheery wave before running back. you were glad that there was at least one friendly face in the gym, though you had to fend for yourself now.

considering the fact that you had minimal support and nobody else to show you the ropes, you had actually picked up rather quickly on how to be a semi-decent manager. you fell into a rhythm over the next few weeks, filling up water bottles and preparing towels for the sweaty players. at least your failed confession had led to you taking part in a club that would look very good on your college applications.

another positive from this whole experience was the fact that you had gained two new friends, who went by the names tendo and semi. it was almost embarrassing at how quickly they figured out your crush for their team captain- semi tried to flirt with you, and tendo cackled as you stuttered out a rejection for his advances. next thing you know, one instinctive glance in ushijima's direction had tendo unraveling the entire mystery as to why you had signed up for a position as manager.

of course, the two assholes found the whole situation hilarious at your expense. however, you couldn't find yourself holding a grudge against the boys when they offered to act as your official wingmen. as for the very reason why you had joined the team, things were going about as well as you could expect. while he made no indication of going out of his way to talk to you, ushijima would gladly return any conversation that you struck up when handing him his water bottle or towel. he'd then return to practice promptly, help to lock up the gym, and then leave with not much in terms of a second glance. it was unsurprising behaviour, but still disheartening to say the least.

that's how you found yourself ranting to tendo during the team's five-minute break, with the boy watching your frustrated face in amusement.

“i just- i can’t believe that i talked myself into being a manager! all because of a crush! a crush that doesn’t even realise that i like him!” you placed down the towel that you just folded in frustration, and tendo couldn’t stop a giggle escaping his lips.

“look, that’s just how he is.” the redhead attempted to console you, giving you a pat on the arm. “he’s difficult to read, and he never talks about his emotions. besides, i don’t think he’s ever had a crush before.”

you sighed, nodding in defeat.

“yeah, yeah. i get it.” tendo’s focus drifted from your face to behind you, and he was quick to sling an arm around your shoulder.

“speaking of the guy...” he muttered to you under his breath. you turned to see the captain approaching, his brow slightly knitted. you smiled as best as you could, offering him a water bottle.

“bye, sweetie,” tendo cooed at you, shooting you a painfully obvious wink that had you blushing and looking down at your shoes. now it was just you and ushijima, the latter being as silent as ever. you coughed once, peeking up at his face.

“you spiked well today.” ushijima nodded once, a small smile spreading across his face. the motion had your heart swelling.

“thank you. you’re a very good manager.” you laughed, mostly to hide your blush and just at how ironic this entire situation was.

“thank you.” you smiled up at the man, and that was the end of your interaction. you watched his back as he returned back to the court, going so much further away from you. tendo shot you two thumbs up and received a slap on the back of the head from semi, and that made you giggle.

hell, even if you got here under circumstances that weren’t in your favour, you wouldn’t trade it for the world. something about getting to watch ushijima perform in his element every day was enough to keep your crush going, reciprocated or not. besides, who knew how the guy really felt after all?

your daydreaming had you staring off into space as the coach blew a whistle to mark the return to practice, and a pair of olive eyes tore themselves away from you to focus back on the court.

you had been paying attention to his spikes, after all.

back to the counter - ,, 💐 ·˚ ༘ ꒱

[mrpenguinpants]

Diluc: Comfort HCs

Oh no worries anon! We’re getting through everything and I can just see the top. I’m not sure if people saw it - probably not - but my entire blog has devolved into “See this genshin character? Animal.” and I refuse to have another cat character so I’m making Diluc a hawk.  

Apparently (maybe) Diluc’s bird is a nightingale [voicelines]. But I don’t really see Diluc the kind of guy to serenade you at night in secret because your father doesn’t approve of your marriage.

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Today’s appreciation post goes to fulltimeventisimp. Tumblr throws a goddamn fit when I try to tag people (even though I literally have a tag list but that’s apparently not good enough) so I hope you see this^^ You’ve been so nice and caring to me I feel so soft 😭 and I hope you’re doing alright! I’m remembering to take breaks and rest  💕💕

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Semi Part 1: Relationship HCs [I would read this just for the last point]

Diluc Ver: Jealous HCs

[Masterlist]

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[taglist]  <- if you want to be added, please read this first.

@hanniejji​  @mikeysbike​ @unionwitch​ @musekala​ @twistedsunnshiii​ @stanzastic​ @akaasea​ @xoneaboveallx​ @adoring-ghost​ @asheseiler​ @childelover​ @dilucsz​

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Diluc: Comfort HCs

Diluc has always had either an aloof or professional persona based on who he needed to talk to. In both cases, no matter the subject or how Diluc talked, there would always be some sort of forced distance so no one would mistaken it as familiarity or friendliness. There were only a two cases where he felt comfortable and those were with close friends and his staff. The third case being Kaeya but Diluc prefers to not acknowledge him and stashes that folder away. Even with friend’s such as Jean or Elzer, he could never really relax and let his true feelings slip until you burst into his life. Literally. “An unexpected outcome of an experiment,” is what Albedo had told him but regardless, since you entered his life he’s let himself regress into his younger days and let himself take for once.

Maybe that was why you had gotten so used to Diluc’s touched starved self that, when it was suddenly gone, you were feeling uneasy. Lately Diluc seemed to be spending longer hours at his desk or working at the tavern. You knew that he was just busy and there wasn’t any underhanded reasoning behind it, Diluc wasn’t that kind of guy. But did he seriously have to spend every waking moment, day or night, talking to the same people? When was the last time you saw him for more than two minutes? Diluc isn’t a big fan of idle talking but would it seriously hurt just to catch up? You didn’t even get together to have your weekly chess matches too.

You didn’t consider yourself a very clingy person and you knew what a relationship with Diluc was going to be like so why were you getting so bothered? You decided to take the situation in your hands and go visit him at the tavern only to see him so busy at work. It both made you a bit huffy, you wanted to storm in there and drag the man away from his work so he could stop trying to speed run life - not like that would ever happen because the second hand embarrassment would make you dissolve into the ground and you could never show your face to Diluc if you actually did that - but also making you more upset. Here he was, working and running his business, and you couldn’t go at least a couple weeks without seeing him. You ended up turning around and going home to scream into your pillow and sleep the heavy feeling away.

Your inner turmoil seemed to seep out into the open that Kaeya felt the need to bring it up. As much as Diluc dislikes Kaeya around you, he really does care about you and he still does owe you for the troubles he gave you when you first started going out with Diluc. He catches you while you’re off running errands and manages to coax you into getting some lunch with him. You’ve been bottling up your feelings so much that when Kaeya shows some concern you let it all pour out. At this point you don’t care if it’s Kaeya of all people you’re confessing your feelings to, you just want to get it off your chest because the man you’re in love with doesn’t seem to notice you’re actually there and it’s making you feel insecure about yourself. Kaeya gives you a sympathetic smile and tells you not to worry about it, he’ll personally knock some sense into Diluc.

Diluc’s been hard at work on another possible Fatui plan and business with the winery that he can’t help but feel that he was missing something. Was he overlooking something? He had planned this for a while so everything should be perfect. It wasn’t until Kaeya himself had to walk in, press his hand on the tavern counter, and call him an idiot that he realizes that he had been so wrapped up in his work and personal duties that he completely neglected you. He quickly passes his duties to Charles with a quick apology, throws his coat on, gives Kaeya a very strained thank you, and he’s out the door to find you. He’s already lost so much so he’ll be damned if he looses you. Not right now. 

You gave him the key to your home after a few months of being together, in case his he needed to temporarily hide should his night activities get the best of him. He’s already at your door in seconds as he quickly unlocks and steps in. 

“Beloved?” he softly calls out to not accidently scare you but he receives no reply. It’s dark inside but he can see your shoes at the door so he knows you’re inside somewhere. He softly closes and locks the door as he hangs his coat up. Carefully running a hand down the fabric and beside your coat as he looks around your small home. He’s always felt it was warm even when you weren’t here. The “home” he has will always be the place he grew up in but after everything that’s happened, he feels a bit alienated in there so he always appreciated that you lent him a key.

He catches the sound of some shuffling and follows the sound to see you under your blankets. He breathes a quick sigh of relief that you weren’t in any danger as he carefully circles around your bed before gently placing a hand on your back. He’s never been good at words or communicating his feelings so he’s at a bit of a standstill. Despite his reputation of being a nobleman of high esteem, you’re his first serious relationship. As far as he’s concerned you’re going to be his only relationship for that matter.

“I...apologize for my recent behaviour. It was never my intention to hurt you. I ended up letting myself get too blinded to see you were in pain and that was my fault. You don’t have to forgive me now but won’t you let me see your face my love?” he asked in all his awkward pose, put him in front of massive event and he’ll perform with flying colours but put him in front of his partner and he stumbles over his worlds like a new born fawn. But it seems to bring a small laugh from you as you peek from under the covers. 

He smiles softly as he sees your ears flush pink. No matter how many times he calls you that you always get so shy, he adores it. But he can feel the guilt rise up in his chest, you’ve always been there to support and reassure him that he was doing everything right. That things were going to be okay when he re-took his father’s business and you would be with him every step of the way. So in the best and awkward way that Diluc can manage, he tells you this. By the time he’s done he can feel his own face start to pink but it’s made you feel better so it was worth it. 

“Feeling better?” he smiles softly as you nod up at him as he lays down beside you, opening his arms in comfort, “Good, come here.” 

You shuffle closer to him as he holds you. It’s been awhile since he’s held you like this and even without realizing it, he’s missed this. Just you and him together, basking in each other’s presence. No work that needed to be attended to. No Fatui trying to cause him any more trouble. It was a safe place and one he didn’t want to let go.  

“What if we got married?”

There’s a beat of silence. 

Then a thud. 

You end up scrambling and falling off your bed face first. It’s a bit silent as you give off a pain groaned and climb back up and he can see your face has exploded red. He can almost see steam coming off as you try and nurse your nose. He blinks a bit at you taken aback as you stutter and scream into your hands as your brain seems to process what he just asked. You lift your face from your hands to look at him, somehow go even redder, and scream louder into your hands. He’s not sure if this is something he should be offended or concerned about but the weight he had been feeling earlier starts to fade away as a new and familiar feeling bubbles up. For the first time in half a month, Diluc let’s out a laugh as he tries to console you as you manage out a yes.

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Gripping my writing hand why is no one stopping me? Diluc you’re literally acting like Childe rn. [if anyone is confused ahem Childe: Fiancé HCs (should be in my masterlist)]

Also, I continue to look away from the lore. Kaeya and Diluc are not on the best of terms but if they can have petty rich lady wine talk then Kaeya can walk in and call Diluc an idiot.

I was serious when I said that I researched hawk behaviours. I have learned the internet is horrible in telling me how hawks behave. But I did find this and I found this hilarious:

In the case of the red-tailed hawk, for example, the pair soar, screaming at each other; then the male dives at the female, who may roll in the air to present her claws to him in mock combat.

[aravas-writing]

(Secret Star AU)

Title: "Ravenous Rave Romp!"

Cinder had been desperate for money, her normal "allowance" delayed for some reason (Watts!) Which means she needed a job. Emerald, who she had just recruited, said this place would be perfect, but Cinder had second thoughts the minute she walked into the porn studio. But before she could protest, Emerald had already signed her up for a Rave scene, wearing a multi coloured wig, hiding her identity. Cinder reluctantly went along with it, it wasn't like this smiling blonde could be rough with her, which she would have known, had she read the script...

She hated this whole situation with all of her heart. Cinder Fall was not a prostitute! She dangled the dream of sex with her in front of others to do her bidding, not give away her body!

She was done with that ever since she left the Silver Unicorn...once had been well enough.

Alas, that brazen arrogant fool Watts told her that there was some form of difficulty to move her required funds, so she would have to get a job.

Who the hell did he think she was?!

Calm...Calm...deep breaths... Emerald tried her best to get something that would get money easy while being somewhat dignified and matching Cinder's CV.

Somehow, her help had come up with an adult film company looking for new talent. Cinder had almost fried the chocolate-skinned street rat for it, but she had to concede that the terms of the contract she brought back were acceptable. It was a small consolation, alongside Emerald also being given a form.

Of course the greenette would have to fill her copy out as well.

The script was easy enough. Dance in a rave party alongside carefully chosen actors, all of whom actually seemed to relish being able to party on company clock. Then she was to carefully seduce her co-star into dancing with her, before getting dirty right on the dance floor.

Cinder had to admit, public sex had a thrill to it, which was possibly why she accepted these tacky-looking extensions in her hair. Sure, no one outside could tell that those weren't actually part of her hair, but still! Green and blue?!

Right, she was supposed to be a raver...

Miniskirt ready for easy access, skimpy top, makeup done and she was ready to rock the world of whatever guy was going to be sent her way.

...wait, how would one dance rave?

Too late, the crowd was ready and music was getting blasted through the speakers. It was a rather unsophisticated tune, but it certainly was easy enough to dance to. All one had to do was follow the beat.

Easy enough. The bodies around her were dancing fairly close to her, but not close enough to disrupt either Cinder or the cameras. The ravenette put on a bit of a show for them. A shimmy turned into a luscious roll of her hips, before excitedly jump around and letting her ass jiggle beneath her skirt.

And, of course, she only wore a thin thong.

As she danced, she noticed a figure approaching her spot on the dance floor. Judging him to be her co-star, Cinder threw a sneaky glance his way. Blonde hair adorned a head sitting on a tall body as blue eyes sparkled with mischief and adoration in equal parts.

'Oh no, he's hot.' That was most definitely not Cinder Fall's immediate thought upon seeing the guy, who himself was dressed in a shirt and shorts which both featured splatters of neon paint.

She used all her skill as a receiver to pretend to notice him just as he started appearing close to her own space on the dance floor. A howl of excitement ran through the crowd as the song changed. Fittingly enough, it was called "Satisfaction".

A coy smile his way and an extended hand, this silly boy took one huge step towards the Fall Maiden turned raver and danced to the beat. His hands met her hips immediately as he got close, a smile on his own lips as the two actually had fun.

Cinder could scarcely believe it herself. She was having fun to gaudy music and dancing with this ridiculously handsome- this adequately attractive stranger. Her smile became a little more genuine, certainly more so since she became what she was today.

But alas, this lighthearted atmosphere had to be shattered and replaced with a more sexual one. Taking his arm and lifting it slightly, the seductress used the opening to dance right into his arms, rubbing her shapely ass against his crotch. To finish this, she lifted her head to smile at the blonde boy.

He looked surprised at her forwardness, but soon relented and let his hands roam her perfect body. One caressed her thigh, inching close to her crotch while lifting her skirt as another roamed her flat stomach while searching a way towards her boobs.

Another jiggle of her ass, some pressing of her hips against his, and Cinder knew that her co-star was packing. Certainly something to look forward to as one of his hands finally made it up to her clothed boob to cup it gently. His thumb started to circle her nipple through the fabric, making Cinder bite her lip and shimmy around in his arms some more. Her flat stomach undulating was perfectly caught on camera.

Through the droning beat, Cinder wished he could hear her breathing heavily under his touch as he whispered all the dirty things he would do to her in her ear. Alas, there was no sound beyond the music.

Not that words were really necessary. The blonde's hand finally crept beneath her skirt, teasing and caressing her clad mound. She moaned, not that anyone could hear, as she realized that she had gotten wet under him. As his hand kept caressing her, she looked back up to him, craning her neck as she did, and smiled at him using her best fuck-me eyes.

He would have to oblige her, since they still starred in a porn video. He needed to fuck her, he just had to! Oum knows she wanted it.

Nice, well-shaped fingers pulled her thong away, baring what little it concealed to a curious camera lens as the music changed again to a different sound, this one like something was approaching. Cinder smiled at the timing of it as her handsome co-star probed her pussy, exploring it carefully instead of jamming it in like a possessive brute.

So many steps up from what she had to endure...He was focused on her pleasure, his finger scraping against her in the nicest way, pistoning in and out of her tight and ready pussy.

Cinder patience left as her libido rose, and she had to pull his wrist away from her pussy and towards her ass as she turned around, facing him now.

A female voice could be heard in this track, seemingly addressing the listener with an endearing and horny "Hey Baby", asking them increasingly lustful questions. Cinder herself fumbled at her blonde stud's- her friendly blonde's pants to fish out his painfully hard cock. Amber eyes not leaving blue, nimble hands wandered all over his length as her smile grew. Finally, she pulled close, slinging a leg around his hip and directing his cock close to her waiting muff. She could feel his tip close to her lips, so close that her hips moved against it in her own.

Finally, her blonde grabbed the ravenette by the hips and the leg slung around him, balancing her, and guided himself inside her. He didn't even use his hands, making her eyes widen as he entered her just like that.

To anyone looking on, the two were dancing very provocatively. To Cinder Fall, this was an experience unlike any other. He fit her excellently, dare she say perfectly; his cock filled her pussy completely! All the sexy minx wanted was for him to move immediately, perhaps giving her her first orgasm!

Dammit, she was so turned on!

His one hand cupping her ass cheek, he pressed deep and rhythmically inside her, then pulling out, then repeat three times before he followed with several shallow thrusts.

Cinder was certain that her juices were glistening in the lights as the speaking part of the song turned overtly sexual and her man fucked her good. Waves of pleasure ran through her, coursing through her veins as he held her close, amber eyes gazing at him with something so close to adoration that she herself wondered...

"Oh my God!" The girl in the song moaned in pretend lust as Cinder gasped it in actual lust as he simply picked her up, arms beneath her kneepits, and fucked her hard and good while standing.

She was getting close as he made his lust for her relentlessly known. Blue eyes and a mouth slightly opened to moan softly mirrored her own expression as she approached her own high; the very first anyone ever gave her!

A head snapped forward in the decisive moment and hungry lips met, tongues battling against one another as their climax rocked their bodies, a deluge if fun filling Cinder as her partner shivered, moaning into her mouth as her own sounds vibrated, letting them both feel it.

Finally, they separated, and Cinder was gently set down on wobbly legs. Not wasting a second, right after his still-hard dick was back in his pants, she pointed off the dance floor, in the vague direction of "private", and took his hand to lead him away...

"Cut!" The director yelled through the sound. "Excellent shoot, you two! Magnificent performance! You led her well, Jamie!"

As the ravenette blinked owlishly, torn out of her horny mode, her partner basically scratched the back of his head. "Thank you, but I'm pretty sure my partner here is the real star," he screamed back over the din of the ongoing party and pointing to the ravenette.

"Ah, certainly!" The director nodded to her. "We'll wire you your payment for this gig ASAP! You can go to the showers now; just-"

As soon as Cinder heard the word "showers" and saw the hand pointing in the direction, her trek continued, pulling this "Jamie" along undeterredly.

As soon as they arrived, her clothes practically flew off of her while she hungrily glared at the blonde. "I want a second round, Jamie," she clarified.

"Jaune, actually; Jamie is my stage-"

"Jaune, then." He was almost adorably nervous. "Get those extensions out if my hair and I'll make it worth it," Cinder commanded in her best seductress voice, beckoning him to follow as she headed to the shower.

She would definitely sign up to exclusively work with him...

[wrestlersownmyheart]

The Drifter's New Years Kiss (Elias X Reader)

Pairing: Elias X Reader Summary: When Elias and another of WWEs employees fall for each other (Y/N) and are both too shy to confess their feelings to one another, the RAW women's division decides to give them a helpful little push in the right direction… Disclaimers: I own nothing or anyone associated or affiliated with WWE. I own only the original characters. This is just a fictional story that came from my imagination. Story Content & Trigger Warnings: Just Fluff!

The Drifter's New Year's Kiss

"Guys… Wait…" You stumbled over your words uselessly as the majority of the RAW women's roster excitedly talked over each other while discussing their plans to get you and a certain drifter on more than just friendly terms. They had all but dragged you to the WWE Performance Center under the pretense of you "hanging out with them" and "watching them practice for the next show". In reality, they were setting their match-making plans into motion—plans to get you and Elias together by the start of 2019.

Merely hours away.

"I am SO excited that we have New Years Eve off," Bayley practically squealed as you all sat around on the ring apron.

"Yes," Sasha agreed with a big smile, and directed her gaze to yours. "Otherwise, we wouldn't be able to have this party tonight, and then Elias wouldn't have the opportunity to see you all fixed up and looking gorgeous."

"Come on… Really…" You sighed, wishing you had never let them badger you into revealing your long time crush on Elias. You rubbed at your temples while the women obliviously chattered on.

"And I know just how to get him over to your apartment before the party starts so he can ask you to be his date!" Natalya was practically jumping up and down in her glee. "So, be ready by about nine, okay?"

"Okay." You finally gave in, slumping a bit against the ring post. There was obviously no stopping your friends.

"Okay, so, you should do your own hair and makeup because your work is just stunning," Sasha said.

"And you should wear-" Nia started.

"The purple dress, because it goes great with my coloring," you finished for her. "I promise. I've got it." You exhaled sharply, and lifted your hand for emphasis on your next words. "But I'm giving you all a brutal head's up… You will be sorely disappointed. Elias has no interest in me—I'm sure of it. I'm just the hair and makeup chick for Pete's sake."

"He won't let anyone but you trim and groom his beard," Bayley argued.

"Couldn't be that I'm just good at my job, huh," you chuckled with a roll of your eyes.

"Of course you are," Alexa said, her blue eyes flashing fire at Bayley. "But, you are missing Bayley's point. Elias could groom his beard himself. He is making an excuse to visit with you."

"Aaannd," Natalya added, "It's kind of domesticated. It's almost like he's subtly marking you."

"What the heck?" Your laugh literally burst out of you. "How in the world do you figure that, Nattie?"

"Well… grooming his beard is… Well, for instance… Brie does it for Daniel. It's a wifey kind of thing to do. So, it's kind of like he has you work on his beard in front of everyone backstage to like… claim you."

"Lord, help me now," you laughed again. "Okay, I'm out of here. I'll see you guys tonight at-"

"Finn's house," Bayley informed you.

"Huh," you asked, wrinkling your nose up in confusion. "I thought the party was going to be at Joe's house."

"Well, it was," she explained. "At first. But Finn just bought a house, and it's supposed to be really amazing, and huge. So, the plans changed to his house."

"Finn's it is," you said, grabbing up your bag and giving them a wave. "See you guys tonight!"

"Oh," Sasha exclaimed. "For your makeup, you should totally do that smokey eye cut-crease thing you did on my eyes last week. It looks amazing!"

You saluted her in reply, and with that, you were out the door before they could make any more crazy demands.

}i{}i{}i{}i{

You had just finished your hair and makeup, and also had pulled your dress for the party out of the closet, when you heard a knock at your door. Somehow, you just knew it was Elias because when the women of the RAW roster put their minds to something, one could bank on it happening.

After laying the dress across the bed and making a quick makeup check in the mirror above your dresser, you hurried to the living room so you could answer the door. And your nerves? Oh, they were right in tow.

Pulling the door open, you found Elias standing there—looking really gorgeous in a pair of black jeans and a snug, black, short-sleeved, button-down shirt that hugged his muscles like a second skin. He also wore one of his scarves, casually draped over his immense shoulders—not to mention his bracelets and bandannas covering almost half of each of his forearms.

And that man bun. He could rock a man bun like no one else.

Suddenly he glanced at your face and froze—staring. You suspected it was your heavier than usual makeup that held his attention. After all, you took Sasha's advice and did the smokey-eye cut-crease.

Oh, my, you thought, drowning in his ardent gaze. Your heart did a sort of flip flop thing in your chest. He looks absolutely-

And then you noticed the huge wad of pink bubble gum stuck in his beard.

Oh, Nattie… What did you guys do to him, you wondered.

"Don't ask," Elias huffed at seeing the shock register on your face. "It was a nightmare."

You motioned for him to come in. "Oh, but I have to ask," you said teasingly, trying to get him in a better mood. "Here, sit down at the dining table." Once he was settled in a chair and facing you, you pulled a cape from your cosmetology bag and draped it around him, securing it at the neck. Then you snatched up a pair of scissors and began to work on his beard.

The chunk of gum came out first—Good grief, it looks like someone chewed up an entire pack of gum!—and then you began clipping away and evening up the hair on each side of his face, bit by bit. Lord, his beard is SO soft! You could never get over how silky it was. I wonder if he uses hair conditioner on it. You just barely stifled a dreamy sigh as your fingers combed through it. Lifting his chin with your fingers, to work at an easier angle—or so you told yourself—you gazed into his eyes. "So, you going to tell me how this happened, big guy?"

Elias exhaled softly, and his eyes softened a bit as your fingers brushed through his facial hair. But he did begin unloading. "It's humiliating. I was over at Finn's, helping some of the women hang up decorations and stuff."

"Well, that was nice of you," you commented, snipping another few hairs.

He blushed a tad, "Thanks. They needed a fairly tall dude to string up lights and garlands and stuff. Finn's freakin' ceilings are HIGH up. Anyway, out of nowhere, Bayley starts choking on her gum, and Nia did the Heimlich maneuver on her. The next thing I know, the gum went flying out of her mouth and straight into my beard! I swear, it was like she aimed it right at me!"

She probably did, you thought, feeling terrible for him. The man loved his beard. And so did you, if you were being completely honest. "Oh!" You had sidestepped around his legs to check out the other side of his face when your foot clipped his and you lost your balance.

Suddenly, you were sitting in his lap.

And you didn't want to move off of him.

Instinctively, your hand went up to his shoulder to gain some stability. The muscle twitched beneath your fingertips, and of its own volition, your thumb began stroking the tensed shoulder. Elias' thighs jolted underneath you then and your breath hitched in your throat. You dared lift your eyes to Elias' face, despite the burning of your cheeks.

His gaze had been waiting for yours.

And if the tracing and curling of his fingers over your hips was of any indication, he didn't want you to move off of him either.

Unless he's preparing to lift you off his lap because he is appalled.

That annoying, ever-present and self-loathing voice just had to speak up.

Flustered and beyond humiliated, you finally scrambled from his lap. "Oh, gosh, I'm so sorry. I can be a real klutz," you told him. Then you attempted to get his mind away from the fact that you'd nearly made a fool of yourself. Okay, the fact that you had made a fool of yourself. Your tone brightened, "But, on the bright side, I'm done with the trim and the beard still looks great! Surprisingly, I didn't have to cut too much."

"Thank you, Little Rose. I really appreciate it."

Little Rose.

He had called you that for as long as you'd known him. You had always wondered why. The effect of his rich, velvety voice using the pet name so softly, never failed to leave you a blushing, flustered mess—even now. Especially now. Your legs were like jello.

Big time.

And he was still looking at you with that smoldering, sexy look on his face.

"I… I-I…" You stammered like a complete moron as you removed the cape from Elias' neck and began putting your scissors away. "Y-your welcome." With your back to him you sighed and rolled your eyes at yourself, and then turned back around, managing to face him—how, you didn't know. "I should probably go get dressed, and head over to Finn's."

Elias nodded, and with a tinge of pink staining his cheeks, he glanced down at his hands. "I could wait on you. We could… ya know… ride over together."

You nodded. Vigorously.

Stop, you told yourself.

"I mean… It would probably be safer for you—that way."

So, he isn't wanting this to be a date. He's just being chivalrous.

You hid your disappointment the best you could. "Sure. Let me go put my dress and shoes on and we can go."

You hurried back to your bedroom and snatched up your phone shooting a group text to the RAW women's roster:

Nattie? Bayley? You are both dead.

You were pulling on your dress when your phone alerted you to a text.

Nattie, you saw, as you opened the message.

On behalf of all of us: You are welcome sweetie! ;-) P.S. If the two of you aren't kissing by the end of the night I will renounce my throne as the matchmaking queen.

Minutes later, you had the vibrant purple dress on, and a pair of silver, strappy pumps. You quickly swept your hair to one side and situated it at the front of your shoulder so that the backless part of the dress was exposed.

You grabbed up your phone and little silver clutch, then you went back to the living room to meet Elias.

"Sorry, I took a bit longer than I meant to," you said, placing your phone into your tiny purse and snapping it shut. "I-" You halted when you heard nothing within the room but your own voice. Afraid, he'd left you after the way you'd behaved, you shifted your gaze up and spotted him sitting on the sofa.

And his eyes were glued to you.

"What," you asked, beginning to feel self-conscious. "Is this too much?" You indicated the dress. Embarrassed, you scooted back a few steps. "I can go put on something a little less showy…"

"No." Elias finally spoke, standing to his feet. "Don't. It's perfect. It's just that…"

"What is it?"

He moved closer to you till he was standing close enough to touch you. "I can't remember really ever seeing you in a dress," he said softly, reaching out and running his index finger over one of the silky long sleeves of the garment. "You're usually dressed casual—jeans and things like that."

You smiled, relieved that he didn't think you looked ridiculous. "I work behind the scenes, big guy. There's not a big call for me to glam myself up very often."

"There should be," he whispered softly, avoiding your eyes. "Because you do it really well."

You were taken aback. It was the first time he had ever said anything remotely flirty to you. And it was made all the sweeter because he couldn't maintain eye contact when he said it—he seemed almost shy. You had no idea what to say, so you settled for a whispered: "Thank you. That is really sweet of you."

He still seemed a little bashful as he spoke again. "I know it's a bit early to be asking. But… Do you think you might like to go to the Hall Of Fame ceremony this year? With me?"

Now, you gasped. You couldn't stop it. You could only hope he hadn't heard it. Maybe he's interested after all. "I'd love to."

He smiled then. And looked right into your eyes when he did it. "I'm glad." Then he placed his large hand on your shoulder and started gently steering you to the front door. "How about we get going? I'm sure the party is-"

You almost giggled at his sudden silence because you realized he must have noticed the exposed skin of your back then.

"Good Lord, woman," he drawled appreciatively. "That is some dress."

"I'd hoped you'd like it," you confessed as he shut the door behind the both of you and then checked the knob to make sure it did lock.

"I do," he replied. "A lot." Then he was leading you over to his huge pickup truck, and you immediately wondered how you would ever be able to climb into the thing in your dress and heels. But you didn't have to ponder for long. As soon as you both reached the vehicle, Elias not only opened the passenger door for you, but also proceeded to stoop down and lift you up into a bridal carry before gently depositing you into the seat.

"Thank you," you said softly, gazing into those beautiful eyes of his—which was much easier to do now that you were up on the truck's seat.

He smiled with a wink at you, and then replied, "Buckle up, sweetheart." Then he shut the door after making sure you were safely inside.

The ride to Finn's house was not awkward as you were afraid it would be. In fact, the two of you seemed to be a bit more open and comfortable with each other while you chatted and small talked.

Before you knew it, Elias was pulling up to Finn's home and killing the truck's engine. You couldn't lie. You were a little disappointed the ride was such a quick one. You were having fun talking and joking with Elias, and just having some alone time with him.

He got out of the truck, and hurried around to your side as if he was afraid you might try to vacate the vehicle before he could reach the passenger door.

He's so sweet, you thought. He came across as this obnoxious, big-mouthed vagabond on Monday nights, but he was actually just a great actor because there was so much more to him than the drifter persona.

Your door was opened and then, once you unbuckled your seat-belt, Elias gently helped you down from the vehicle.

Already, you could hear the frisky beat of some rap song booming from the huge house as you both made your way to the front door. The door was opened before Elias even had the chance to knock. Bayley greeted you both with a hug. You noticed she also was in a dress for a change and she'd ditched her trademark side ponytail.

"Oh my gosh, Y/N," she squealed over the music. "You look so beautiful!" Before you could reply, she had grabbed one of yours and Elias' arms each and was pulling you into the foyer.

All kinds of delicious smells wafted throughout the large home and all of your friends were scattered about several of the rooms, talking, eating, dancing and drinking to the rapidly approaching new year.

And in an instant, everything was a blur.

You were tugged on until you were within the group of your female friends, and Elias was nudged into a den where a lot of the guys were hanging out. You gave each other an apologetic glance before turning your attention to your friends. Of course, Nattie and Bayley and the girls weren't trying to keep you away from Elias, they simply wanted to know what went down at your apartment and why you were later than expected. They all encircled you in what appeared to be a dining room and bombarded you with relentless questions.

"Did he kiss you yet?"

"What took you so long to get here?"

"Did he ask you out?"

You laughed at the rapid fire of questions and didn't bother to try and hide the blush creeping up your face as you began to answer the questions in succession. "No. Mostly the bubble gum job I had to correct on his beard."—You mock glared at Bayley, Nattie, and Nia—"And… sort of?"

"Sort of," Sasha asked. "How do you "sort of" get asked out?"

"Okay, so I think he asked me out," you clarified. "He asked me if I'd like to go to the hall of fame ceremony with him."

Nattie jumped up and squealed, "I knew it! He likes you too!"

"Shh!" You quickly shushed Nattie and glanced over toward Elias to make sure he didn't see that you were obviously telling them about your conversation with him. Thankfully, he seemed to be deep in discussion about something with Finn in the kitchen.

But then, his gaze shifted to yours, and a smile broke out across his face.

Your pulse skipped a beat.

Elias smiled so rarely, it seemed. So, when he bestowed you with a flash of his teeth, it was as if your heart took on a mind of its own.

He indicated he'd like you to come to him with a quick motion of his head and a mouthed: "Come here."

You smiled, gave him a nod and began to head in his direction—everyone and everything else in your proximity forgotten but the huge, gorgeous man calling you to him.

"Y/N!"

A pair of arms looped around you and lifted you up, swinging you through the air. Startled, you looked down and saw that Chad Gable was the culprit.

"Great to see you here, sweetie!"

You laughed and ruffled his hair. "Thanks, Chad. It is great to see you, too!" He sat you on your feet and gave you a big hug. "Happy New Year!" Then he was off and hugging up to a few other of the females.

A tad buzzed, you thought to yourself, chuckling. You continued on your way to Elias, who suddenly looked somewhat perturbed. Your steps faltered a bit, and your head angled; confused as to the look on his face. When you reached him however, he seemed completely back to normal.

"Do you… Do you like to dance," he asked quietly, setting a bottle of beer aside on a nearby table.

You nodded with a slight smile. "I do. How about you?"

He grimaced teasingly and looked down at his feet for a second. "Not usually, no. But for special occasions… I can be persuaded. Only slow dances, though. I can't dance to fast songs to save my life." He looked into your eyes then. "Would you like to dance? Finn has a room set up like a club—has a big dance floor."

"Yes," you replied softly. "And I don't much care for dancing to fast songs either, so that is something we can definitely agree on."

A chuckle rumbled up from his chest as he took your hand and laced his fingers with yours. Then he was leading you down a hallway, deeper into the house. You followed him through a door and down a short set of steps, and then you were in the club room he'd mentioned. The room was dimly lit save for a few strategically placed decorative lights. A disco ball twirled from the ceiling and you noticed that there also were a few tables and chairs set up for anyone who wanted to sit down and chill for a bit. Music boomed through several large speakers—some pop song you hadn't heard before. Which wasn't a surprise. You weren't all that into the newer music. Your taste was on the eclectic side, and was more old school than modern.

"Wow, this is awesome," you said, taking in the ambiance. The room was fairly full with dancing couples. "Finn did great with this house!"

Elias nodded in agreement and then scoffed, "Yeah, but this pop crap has to go. Why didn't someone put a stop to this?"

"We couldn't figure out how to work the thing," AJ Styles, who'd been dancing with his wife in the corner of the room called out, motioning with his head to a customized jukebox.

"That's no excuse, Styles!" Elias shot back, then steered you over to the guilty-as-charged jukebox where he promptly stopped the current song—and had the rest of the dancing couples cheering in the process—and searched for another one to play. "Do you like Johnny Cash?"

"Absolutely," you replied.

No sooner than you spoke, than he was punching a couple of buttons on the jukebox and with a soft smile, led you over to the dance floor as "Rose Of My Heart" filled the room. You almost stumbled. He calls me Little Rose, and he just put on "Rose Of My Heart" for us to dance to… Maybe the girls are right. Maybe he actually does have feelings for me.

You gasped suddenly as Elias playfully yanked you up against his massive frame, wrapping his arms tightly around you. You giggled, enjoying this flirty side of him. He usually seemed so reserved.

Being in his arms felt nice—natural, despite the butterflies fluttering around in your stomach. You only hesitated for a second, then shyly moved your arms up to band around his neck and began swaying to the soft beat of the song with him.

"I didn't come out and say it earlier, but you really look beautiful."

"Thank you," you said softly, avoiding his intense gaze. "And I think you look very handsome."

His cheeks tinged pink and you couldn't resist the urge to touch him. "Why do you blush whenever I compliment you, big guy," you asked, brushing your thumb over his cheekbone. "You can't possibly not know how gorgeous you are."

"I guess I blush for the same reason you don't maintain eye contact when I compliment you, Little Rose."

But, I can't make eye contact because I'm crazy about you. "I doubt that," you sighed, absent-mindedly playing with a tendril of his hair at the back of his neck. You felt goosebumps sprout along his skin and your heart's rhythm sped up at the notion that you had caused them.

"Two can play at that game, honey," he said softly, trailing the tips of his fingers up the bare skin of your back and down again. And then it was your own skin prickling and flushing. Your breath caught in your throat for an instant and then expelled with a very audible whimper. And your eyes had to be playing tricks on you because it appeared as though Elias' pupils dilated—drastically.

"Y/N!" You heard Drew Gulak's excitement-filled voice boom out from behind you and nearly jumped out of your skin. Elias tensed up, and his fingers ceased their playing at your skin.

And just like that, the magic was gone.

Mental note: Must kill Drew.

You gave Drew a small smile, hoping your murderous thoughts were not registering on your face. "Hi, Drew. Happy New Year."

"I'm glad you're here!" He smiled at you and then glanced up at Elias. "Mind if I cut in, Samson?"

It was no secret that Drew had a bit of a crush on you. He was constantly following you around backstage like a love-sick little puppy.

Why does a man always ask the other man if they can cut in on a dance, you wondered. Does the woman not have any say, for Pete's sake? What if she doesn't want to be cut in on?

But Elias—God bless the man—looked Drew square in the eye and replied, "Only if Y/N is okay with it."

And then Drew's puppy dog eyes were on you—practically begging. You sighed inwardly, and vowed that murder was most definitely in Drew's future. "Sure," you replied, not wanting to hurt Drew's feelings.

You reluctantly moved toward Drew, and let him take your hand. As he led you away from Elias, you turned to give the drifter an apologetic glance, but he had already disappeared into the crowd of dancing couples. You sighed again and began swaying to the music within Drew's embrace, hoping that in sparing his feelings, you hadn't hurt Elias'. Surely, he knew you would've rather stayed with him?

"I've been wanting to get to know you better," Drew said, yanking you from your thoughts. "And now I can. This is perfect."

"Um… Well, Drew… Actually, I… I came here with Elias," you spoke up finally, horrified at the thought of being tied down to Drew for the rest of the evening. He seemed like a nice guy, but he was just so… bland. Afraid you needed to say a little more in order to get your message across, you began to pull out of his arms. "I really like him. A lot. I have for a long time."

Hurt registered in Drew's brown eyes and he glanced over your shoulder at something. "Well, sweetie, it looks like he doesn't share your feelings if you ask me."

"What are you talking about?"

He pointed toward a corner of the room and you turned to see what he was gesturing to.

Instantly, you spotted Elias and Mandy Rose in a major lip-lock underneath a bundle of mistletoe.

And just like that, your evening was destroyed.

You saw as Elias pulled away from Mandy then, and said something to her. It didn't look as though he was being all that friendly with her, but the blonde smiled up at him as if he'd just professed his love to her.

"I'm sorry," Drew said softly, but glancing over at him, you could clearly see he wasn't.

You shook your head. "It's fine. I was stupid to assume he felt the same way."

In truth, you weren't fine. But you were not going to let your feelings show. They'd already gotten you into enough trouble for one night. "I'm just going to call an Uber and go home."

"I can-"

"No, really, Drew," you cut him off. "You stay and have fun." You started to turn and make your exit, when Elias suddenly chose that moment to turn away from Mandy. His gaze caught yours and you could see in his eyes that he realized you'd seen the kiss. You worked up a slight, polite smile at him in hopes he would take it as a silent apology for eavesdropping on his moment with the buxom blonde. Then you turned around, headed for the front of the house in search of the front door while pulling up the Uber app on your phone.

}i{}i{}i{}i{

You hung your keys on the set of hooks next to your door, after locking said door, and then laid your clutch on the entertainment center as you passed it. Feeling incredibly stupid, and hurt, you walked over to your sofa and flopped down on it, taking a few minutes to feel sorry for yourself. It took no time for a tear to spill down your cheek. You ignored it, and refused to let anymore tears fall. This was my own ignorance, you told yourself. I had to know that WWE superstars don't fall for behind-the-scenes employees.

But still… It hurt. Badly.

You had genuine feelings for Elias, and you'd thought he was different from some of the wrestlers who clearly were just players.

But apparently, you were wrong.

A knock sounded at your door. Somehow, you just knew…

"Little Rose, come on. We need to talk."

Huffing out a sigh, and really wishing he'd stop with the endearment because it hurt too much to hear his voice use it on you, you stood to your feet and then walked over to the door, opened it and stared at Elias.

"Can I come in," he finally asked.

You stepped aside warily, and let him enter your apartment. He locked the door back for you and then turned to face you. He ran his hand over the back of his neck in somewhat of a nervous gesture. "I know you saw the kiss."

You nodded. There was no denying it.

"I know it sounds cliché, and shady to say, but… I didn't instigate it, or want it. It wasn't even a long kiss. You had to have seen it at the exact moment it happened, because I put a stop to it instantly."

"It's none of my business, Elias. You don't have to explain yourself," you said softly. You finally gained the courage to meet his gaze. "Really. It's okay."

"Why? Is it because of Gulak?"

Your eyes widened in shock. "God, no. I have no feelings for him- Wait. You think because I danced with him that I like him?"

"What was I supposed to think?"

You let out a quick, bitter laugh. "I was only trying to spare Drew's feelings. I just didn't want to hurt him. I actually wanted nothing more than to-" You closed your mouth, realizing you were about to blurt out how you truly felt about Elias. And you couldn't do that. Not when you saw him and Mandy kissing not even an hour ago.

Narrowing his eyes slightly, Elias stepped closer to you. "Don't do that." His voice rumbled low in his chest. "Tell me what you were going to say."

You swallowed hard and looked away from him. "I can't. I'm scared."

His large hand reached out, gave your chin the lightest of touches as he tilted your head back, making you look into his eyes. "Don't be, Little Rose."

You gave a slight nod, too tired to resist him anymore. "I like you." You rolled your eyes at yourself. "Gosh, that sounds so high school. I care about you. A lot. And… I was thrilled to see you at my door earlier tonight—even with bubble gum in your beard." Tears clogged your throat as you chortled at your sad attempt at a joke. You hated that a couple of tears trickled from your eyes, but there was nothing you could do about it. "And then you suggested that we ride over to the party together… It made me think—crazy as it sounds—that maybe… maybe you had feelings for me, too." You took a breath and hurried on, but it wasn't necessary to rush. Elias seemed to be giving you all the time you needed to express what you were feeling. It was nice on one hand, but nerve-racking on the other. "So, when I saw you and Mandy…" You rolled your eyes again. "I had this instant feeling of… hurt—disappointment. I mean, I get it. I just do people's hair and makeup. I'm not all that glitzy. I feel like I dim in comparison to someone like Mandy…"

Suddenly, Elias' arms were around you, crushing your slender frame against his burly one.

"Honey, that "glitz" you talk about?… The reason Mandy and all of the other women on the rosters have any glitz, is because of you." You were acutely aware of Elias' hands running up and down your back over and over as he spoke so softly to you. "You are the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. You don't dim in comparison to anyone," he told you. "They dim in comparison to you."

"It's a little hard to believe that," you replied, truly stunned by how much he had just opened up to you. And feeling quite breathless at hearing how he viewed you. "I'm so used to being responsible for making others look good, that I feel like I'm neglecting myself. And then I just feel so… plain."

"Why do you think I only ever let you work on my beard?"

His question seemed like a loaded one and you were almost afraid to answer. "Because it's my job?" You weren't sure of the answer he was looking for. "And because I'm good at it. Or…"

He cut you off and answered the question for you. "It's not because I don't know how to groom my own beard, or that I'm too lazy to do it. And while you are amazing at your job, that's also not the reason either. It's simply because…" He pulled you even closer, if that were at all possible. His hazel eyes burned into yours. "I find you breathtaking. You are smart, and you're kind, and I crave the feeling of your touch on my face. No one else's. Just yours. I wasn't even actually angry about the gum tonight because I knew it was an excuse to come see you and ask you to go to the party with me." He reached up and brushed the back of his hand down your cheek. "I'm sorry about that kiss, Y/N," he whispered. "That mistletoe was up in the corner because of me. I put it there, hoping I'd have an opportunity to get you under it. And then Mandy went and ruined my plan. That kiss was meant to be yours."

Flabbergasted, you were full of questions. "My God… Where did shy Elias go?"

"I'm only shy till I find out the woman I've fallen for, returns my affections."

Your face flamed, and you had no idea what to say. Nothing seemed adequate. "I-I'm sorry that I danced with Drew," you told him, feeling horrible. "Maybe if I hadn't there wouldn't have been all this confusion."

"There's no need to apologize, Little Rose." He smiled, and let his hand play through some locks of your hair. "Your soft heart toward others is one of the many things I love about you."

You returned his smile. "Why do you call me that?"

"A few reasons," he replied. "One being, that you are little, but there is a hidden strength and courage about you. Another is because you always—always—smell amazing. And…"

"Because of the color of my cheeks when I blush," you teased, your heart feeling fuller by the second.

He shook his head, a full-fledged grin spreading across his face now. "No. It's because of your mouth—your lips… They look and…" He reached up and ran his thumb over your full bottom lip, and gave a slight nod. "They feel like rose petals."

You kissed the pad of his thumb then, and it was as if you'd set off some sort of detonation sequence within Elias.

The next thing you knew, you were pressed against the door by a huge wall of muscle, and Elias' mouth was on yours.

A sound emerged from your throat—a mixture of gasp and whimper, and he crowded you even more. His tongue darted out and slid past your lips and began tasting every inch of your mouth.

"Elias…" You inhaled sharply as he nipped at your bottom lip with his teeth.

"I tripped you up earlier," he murmured, his voice husky. He kissed you again, swirling his tongue over yours. "So you'd land on my lap. Wanted to see what it would feel like… having you on my lap…"

Tossing your inhibitions out the window, you reached up and pulled the elastic band from his hair, sending his long, dark curls tumbling over his shoulders. Then you were tangling your fingers into his hair and leaning up to his ear whispering, "Kiss me again."

"I aim to please, Little Rose," he chuckled as his face lowered to yours. His mouth claimed yours and your eyes fell closed. You were completely enraptured.

You didn't see how the night could get any better.

The End

[issaxcharlie]

You are mine

Pairing: Alive! Luke Patterson x Fem Reader

Summary: Luke and Y/N have many problems and commitments in their lives and instead of solving them they decide to blame the other. Eventually, the fights end their relationship. Luke travels with Sunset Curve during the summer and when he returns he has a pretty clear idea in his head. He wants his girl back.

But it's not as easy as it sounds when the competition had 3 months to score points with the cheerleader in his absence.

 Three months. Luke has gone three months without seeing Y/N. They have been inseparable since they met when they were 12 years old, never spending more than days without seeing each other. But the moment they broke up Luke knew he had to get out of the freaking town because if he couldn't distance himself he was going to end up the very next day at his ex-girlfriend's house begging her to accept him back. And the truth is that both needed to breathe and rethink what each one is looking for in their future.

Because although he’s head over heels in love with her, the truth is that both were in a moment of their lives in which they couldn’t and specially wanted to adapt to what the other needed. They had a lot of different responsabilities and things to do, it was just hard sometimes to add more to the list.

Which meant that she missed several of his concerts, that he was late for her birthday party, that there was no time for dates, that they didn’t feel supported. Many arguments trying to fix things that never came to anything because neither of them really wanted to commit. None willing to give in.

And then the painful but friendly breakup in early summer happened.

Bobby has a truck and the boys decided that doing a roadtrip during the summer performing wherever they could to earn enough to keep traveling was a brilliant idea to distract him and make the band known, and he agreed without looking back.

Things turned out much better than any of the four expected and they even had the luxury of traveling one more week, so they have a week of homework to catch up on. Will his relationship have ended on good enough terms to ask Y/N? Homework is not that big of a deal for him but it usually takes him a little longer to miss more than 15 assignments.

As soon as Luke opens the front door, his eyes fall straight on her. She is on her back trying to hang up some posters, but he would recognize that body wherever, from whatever angle.

His eyes immediately scan her wrist, which doesn't have any of the couple matching black-and-white bracelets they both used to wear all the time.

The first of many reminders Luke would get that day about his breakup with the cheerleader.

Y/N stands on her tiptoes trying to reach the height required for the poster, but no matter how hard she tries, she can't reach it. She’s just going to give up and ask for help when she feels some strong and determined hands lift her without any sign of trouble or doubt.

She doensn’t need to turn her head or listen to his voice, the strong grip on each side of her hips and his intoxicating perfume are more than enough to confirm who is lifting her in the air.

Luke is not playing fair. Y/N hears his husky and seductive voice as his lips lightly brush her ear. “I know you love my hands on you, but do you plan to put up the poster at some point?”

The cheerleader is shocked for a few seconds, until murmurs around them remind her that they are not alone. She puts the poster as fast as she can and instructs her ex-boyfriend to take her down.

Reluctantly she turns around and for the first time in quite a few weeks her eyes meet her favorite ones, which at least for the moment, are deep green.

"You can't do that, Lucas. We broke up."

He smirks. She only calls him like that when she's trying really hard to scold him even though it's not what she actually wants. She tries to look more determined and tough, but he can see through it all.

He decides to rest one of his arms on the wall, leaning just enough so that their foreheads are almost touching, and then smiles at her. One of those smiles that she used to classify as the most tender and beautiful sight in the world and that used to receive a light sweet kiss in return.

But this time, instead of a kiss, her gaze tells him that he is crossing the limit and that it’s better to stop. Neither has to say anything, she doesn't need to throw his arm out of the way or yell at him to move.

The two of them know each other better than anyone, and when Luke sees that expression, her wrinkled nose, her eyes lit with annoyance, her crooked mouth, he knows it's time to retreat.

“I’m sorry ba-” His gaze automatically saddens as he remembers that he can no longer call her that. He can see that her eyes also look a little sadder and duller after imagining what the guitarist was going to say. “I’m sorry Y/N. I just missed you.”

“Luke, look at this man. I've been here for 10 minutes and already 14 girls gave me their numbers to pass them to you! I guess word got around that you're single again.”

Alex and Reggie go blank when they are close enough to see their beautiful friend, since Luke was covering her from their sight. The guitarist turns to tap Reggie on the shoulder, and Alex decides to hug her to ease the tension in the air. Her hands are shaking, and Alex is not sure if from sadness or jealousy, but he decides not to say anything and keep hugging her, trying to make her feel supported.

“We missed you so much, we are not Sunset Curve without you.” Alex confesses loud enough for the other two members present to listen and nod their heads.

“I missed you too, boys. My summer was too peaceful and quiet without my favorite band.” The drummer lets go of her and Reggie replaces him by hugging her tightly, moving his arms behind her back silently asking Luke what to do with all the papers in his hands. The annoyed guitarist takes them and throws them away without thinking twice. Reg whispers "rude" and his friend rolls his eyes at him.

Reggie lets go and the four of them stare each other for a few seconds, none knowing what to say or do.

"Hello, sorry but I came to escort this beauty to her next class."

The fifth voice belongs to Cameron Green, who has just appeared in front of them and offers the girl his arm to intertwine with hers.

The perfect captain of the football team. Luke has known for years that the guy has some feelings for his girl, but he never had to worry because he knows her, she would never do anything that would put his trust at risk. But now, things are different.

She takes a step forward to accept the gesture and turns to see the boys one last time.

"I guess I'll see you on music class." She offers an apologetic smile, Alex smiles back to let her know it’s okay.

"But what about lunch break?" Reggie asks, after all, the five have been sitting together for years, they didn’t even separate when Y/N entered the cheer squad.

"I promised to sit down with Cam, sorry guys. But see you later!"

Y/N turns to look at Luke for a few seconds, as if waiting for him to stop her. But never happened.

So both her and Cameron walk until the band can’t see them in the sea of students. Reggie and Alex turn to see their friend, who has his hands wrapped in fists and looks totally crimson, his face irradiates frustration as he clenches his teeth.

“I prOmiseD tO SiT DoWN WitH CaM, fucking hell I’m out of here.”

“You are not going anywhere, man! It’s time for an intervention.” Reggie takes his friends by the arm and leads them to the janitor's closet where he pushes them and closes the door.

“The janitor's closet, really?” Alex asks and Reggie smiles proudly. “..Okay.”

"This is stupid, can we get out of here now?" They both return their attention to Luke, his face radiating despair.

"No. You can't keep prolonging this anymore. What did you think? That no one was going to try to date the most popular girl in school? Are you really so self-centered as to believe that no one would dare just because you are the ex boyfriend? Local rockstar or not, she’s a gem."

“Of course not, I just went into denial, I guess. All I know is that I miss her. I missed her every day this endless summer. I know the experience was amazing, but every night while I was singing the only thing I could think about is how much I wanted to see her beautiful dorky face in the small audience. The way she blushes when I'm singing straight to her direction and I send her a wink. The passion with which she sings each of the songs that she has been listening to over and over for years. How proud she looks of us as we give that final bow.

And it’s stupid, you know? Because somehow, I forced myself to think that having a girlfriend was depriving me of the opportunity to live experiences like that, to live my dream the fullest.

And what I ended up discovering when I did them is that my dream is simply never going to be fulfilled without her. As Alex said, she is as much part of Sunset Curve as any of us. And that now she has other interests or priorities doesn’t diminish how much she loves us and how much we love her, our dreams don't have to collide. And I'm a real idiot who took 3 months to realize it while I'm sure that fake dude was doing his fight to win her over.”

“FINALLY!” They both scream while hugging their brother. “Dude, I’m pretty sure she’s still in love with you, just act fast. You both have to stop being so stubborn and learn to give in for each other's sake from time to time. You cannot ask the other what you do not give.” Alex advises.

“I’ll win my girl back.” Luke smiles, hoping that if he says it with enough conviction it will come true.

The boys decide to go back to classes, by the time they are about to reach the lockers for gym, the other guys are already there and a lively conversation is heard.

“Man, it's not like I've been in love with her for years. I don't even know her. But stealing Luke Patterson’s girlfriend who is casually the most popular girl in school, is simply the step that makes you a legend in this small town. Not to mention that perfect body, what I would do to her if I had the chance."

No one has noticed the Sunset Curve members are present, and the second they hear him Reggie and Alex cover Luke's mouth and drag him out of there.

“I’m going to kill him! And before you say it, I don't care if it's the stupid football captain! If his monkeys hit me I have the satisfaction that I already gave him a black eye and I took out 3 teeth from him. No one is going to play or talk about her like that!"

To say that he is angry is an understatement. He is shaking with fury, moving in the small hall from one side to the other trying to calm the urge to slam his fist against the wall, because if he is going to slam it somewhere it will be in that idiot's face.

“You have to control yourself and be smart for once! he is the golden boy of the school, no matter how popular you are, your reputation as a bad boy is not going to win against his. Maybe not even with Y/N, she might think you're just fired up to see them together."

As much as it hurts to admit it, Alex is right. That clown has convinced everyone in the school with the idea that he doesn’t break a plate. While the guitarist is famous for skipping classes and playing clubs until dawn.

“And what am I supposed to do? I hope you don't suggest that I just sit around doing nothing."

Reggie takes two steps back in case Alex's suggestion is in fact Luke to do nothing. After all, he has to protect that adorable face.

“I’m not telling you to do nothing, I’m asking you to pay attention to what’s really important. Don't focus on him, focus on her."

He’s not going to say it aloud, but Alex is right, again. She should always be his main focus.

After his friends manage to convince him to take the peaceful route, Luke spends the rest of the day searching for the right words to say, but it’s difficult to find inspiration when every time he turns the love of his life is next to a jerk who is only trying to deceive her.

Not to mention lunch break, every time that idiot tried to touch her or get too close, the guitarist felt his blood boil. The only thing that kept him sane is that she politely pushed him away each and every time.

Reggie managed to convince her to come to the studio with them after her cheer training, just like they used to do last school year. The boys waited for her each time and then she accompanied them to their band rehearsals. Or at least they did before both she and Luke started arguing for not wanting to put in that extra effort.

Alex and Reggie watched as the relationship began to decline and the fights began to escalate. And when the breakup became official, they knew they had to keep the exes away from each other. The ex couple had never been apart and it was important for them to make their friends realized how much they want and love each other's presence in their lives. How lucky they are to have such a supportive partner at their side.

They never said anything to Luke but they could see how sad and depressed the guitarist looked without her. As if that spark in him was missing.

All day they were observing their girly who looked just as miserable, that special aura full of dull energy.

Alex had a theory that he explained to Reggie. When a relationship finishes going through that time where it feels new and recent, when you get used to the other as a couple, sometimes it is easy to take things for granted and not want to continue trying or giving the extra.

Sometimes you get lost in that lapse, and finding a balance is not easy. But when you love someone as much as they love each other, well, it’s easy to guess they’ll find the way.

So while Alex distracted Luke, Reggie ran to convince his girl friend to join them, which wasn't easy considering she already had plans with the football player. At that moment the bassist was grateful Luke was not around to hear that.

Once they are together, things will settle down. They have both suffered enough to know that without a doubt everything they have to do for the other is worth it. It’s time for them to stop being stubborn because Reg and Alex are not going to bear being in the middle for long. Those two can be insufferable sometimes.

So, that's how Sunset Curve ended in the stands. Watching her friend as the squad lifted her to the top of the pyramid.

Luke can't help but see her with loving eyes. He feels so proud of her, and that’s when he realizes he can’t remember the last time he actually told her, and that hurts him. She should hear those words every day, and if he is lucky enough for her to accept him back, that will be one of the first things that will change.

He's so focused on watching her, that he doesn't realize the football team is starting a fight just yards away until Reggie hits him on the shoulder.

Cameron pushes one of his teammates straight into the pyramid, which begins to disarm before the guitarist's eyes.

Some of her team manage the impact not be too strong, but she still stays motionless on the ground for a few seconds because of the shock.

Cameron Green kneels in front of her, Luke tries desperately to pass but two big guys get behind their captain to block him.

“Get the fuck out of my way!” The desperation in his voice indicates that he will do whatever it takes to get to her.

“Leave her alone already, Patterson!”

Reggie and Alex catch up with him and mentally prepare for what lies ahead, when they hear Y/N's weak voice.

"No! Luke, please. I need Luke."

The guitarist takes advantage of everyone's momentary shock after hearing her voice and manages to get to her side.

“I- I- I’m here, baby. I’m here, don’t worry. Everything will be fine.” Luke lightly caresses her cheek while examining her body, it seems that it was more the scare than anything else.

“I know.” She smiles at the contact of Luke’s hand in her skin.

“Yeah?” He asks almost in a whisper, he is hypnotized watching her. Trying with all his might not to kiss her.

“Yes, you are here. As long as we are together everything will be fine.”

“Is this your subtle way to tie me up again?” Luke teases while helping her sit up. The whole crowd watches them around the field. Cameron looking angry just a few yards away.

She laughs. A wholesome laugh, full of happiness. “Oh honey, we all know you never stopped being mine."

If there is something that turns him on, is his Y/N’s confidence. (And see her in nothing but his t-shirts but that’s not the point.)

“Right back atcha, baby.” He brushes his lips against hers while making that seducting face that she can hardly ever resist, but this time she surprises him by taking him from behind the neck and crashing her lips on his.

The people around them begin to applaud the show, and without interrupting the passionate kiss Luke puts his arms around her back and legs to lift her up and carry her away.

Reggie and Alex do a fist bump and then one looks for Y/N's things and the other for Luke's and follows them from behind.

"They endured a whole school day, wow."

"If we hadn't stolen Luke from her over summer they would have been 2 hours apart and it would have been the most embarrassing separation of all time."

"The two of them were going through a lot and they didn't know how to cope at the time, but now that they are both better, I’m very happy they’re back together, they are soulmates."

“They sure are, Reg. Did you see Cameron's face when Luke stuck his tongue down Y/N's throat? PRICELESS.”

Thank you for reading✨

Taglist: @writerinlearning, @ghostofmgg, @strangerthanfanfiction713, @thebloodthirstyvampress, @kinda-really-lost, @kcd15, @magnet-girl, @aliandthephantoms, @stxrkspidey, @pinkrockstar19, @s0uz4s, @shycupcakealissa, @cookiebuba, @fangirlangioma, @sageellsworth05, @twist3dtinkerbell, @sunsetcurvenotsunsetswerve, @caitsymichelle13, @ifilwtmfc, @luckylouiebug, @bibliophilewednesday, @totomoshi, @siennanoelle01, @lunashadow6955, @bookfrog247, @morganayennefertyrell, @kiss-themoongoodbye, @rachelle3musicals

[nyctophilin]

Fake affection | I

sweet anon: Can I request a dom! Han Jisung smut? Where he and the reader are fake dating because Jisung want's to make someone jealous but ends up fucking the reader instead? I love your writings so much!!

Chapter I, Chapter II, Chapter III, Chapter IV, Epilogue

Description: Han Jisung has been rejected by the girl he likes one to many times. He decides that he has had enough and is set on making her want him back. What could possibly make her want him more than seeing him with her rival after she boldly assumed he can’t find anyone better. That way Jisung and Y/N are stuck in a fake relationship until Jisung’s crush falls for him. Or he falls for someone else.

All rights reserved © nyctophilin 2020. Re-posting, copying and translating any of my works is prohibited.

Pairing: Han x fem!Reader, Hyunjin x fem!Reader

Word count: 4.5k

Genre: College!AU, Fake dating!AU, Angst, Fluff, eventual Smut

Warnings: swearing, mention of masturbation

A/N: Wow, so it looks like I am unable of making short fics, haha. I planed for this to be a one-shot but it’s already this long and I don’t want to bore you guys with long fics so I will make a second part and a third if needed but I doubt. I really hope you guys like this one. Feedback is very much appreciated.

      Y/N was tapping her finger on the desk, her head resting in her palm. She was watching the professor walk around in front of the class explaining something but she wasn’t paying attention. Her mind was filled with thoughts about whether or not she was going to get the role. 

      Some people from her university that were majoring in Film Production had to write a script for a short movie and the best five got chosen to be produced. Initially, she believed that only Theater and Film Majors could participate at the auditions but the administration of the school made an announcement one morning informing them that everyone could take part in the audition process. That meant she had to deal with more competitors for the role she wanted.

      Initially, Y/N was the only one who wanted to audition for the main role of one of the movies since people didn’t really catch its concept that well. When the audition day finally came, one Modern Dance major showed up out of nowhere and auditioned as well. The apparition of that particular character made her blood boil with anger.

      Her competitor for the role was none other than Mina, her so-called enemy. They weren’t enemies in the real sense of the word. They just simply didn’t click with one another and silently agreed a long time ago to ignore each other. They weren’t pulling childish stunts on each other, they didn’t speak each other's names unless necessary, they didn’t try to win each other in grades or parties or body counts. They were just mutually ignoring one another. And everything was fine until she showed up there.

      Y/N wasn’t going to lie and say that Mina wasn’t good. Her performance wasn’t exceptional but for someone that has never done that before, she was fairly good. That had her worried about her chances of getting chosen.

      When the bell finally rang ending her suffering she got up in the split of a second and left the room. She could not bear to hear any more of the professor’s babbling. Her boots let out quiet thuds every time they touched the concrete floors. She found herself in front of the announcement board but the paper that was supposed to tell her if she got chosen or not, was missing. Thinking to herself that they probably will put it up later she turned on her heels and made her way towards the cafeteria.

      She met her friend Hayoon there and they sat down at a table situated in the centre of the cafeteria. They talked about how they had been up until then and Hayoon complained about one of her classes and how she’s going to fail it.

      The chatter in the cafeteria died down when the door was slammed open and Mina stomped in, a bitter expression on her face. “I can not believe that they made me a stunt double! What does that even mean?” Her voice was louder than it should have been as she addressed her friends. Her intention was most probably to attract attention.

      A smirk crept on Y/N’s face as she realised that she did, in fact, get the main role. She gave her friend a suggestive eyebrow raise as she slowly took the chopstick to her mouth. Her face dropped when she heard the stomping approaching her. “Hey, loser, what’s a stunt double?” Mina’s voice was scratching her ears. How she managed to sound like one of those toys for dogs sometimes, she’ll never understand.

      “I can’t believe you’ve auditioned for a role without knowing what a stunt double is.” Y/N rolled her eyes at the other girl and a few people from around them chuckled. Mina’s face caught a crimson colour as the embarrassment settled in.

      “Haha, you are so funny!” It was clear by now that the girl was trying to mask her flustered form by trying to embarrass Y/N back.

      The truth was that she didn’t mean to make fun of her. She just let her first thoughts leave her mouth. “I wasn’t trying to be funny.” A sigh left her lips. “A stunt double is a person that executes all the dangerous or action scenes for the main actor so they don’t get injured. Stunt doubles are usually gymnasts, people that know martial arts and all that jazz. They probably chose you because of your dance background.”

      “I can’t believe it. Not only they didn’t give me the role, but they are also going to use me to protect you?” Mina had an annoyed expression.

      “Oh please! Did you really think they were going to choose you? You entered that room without even knowing the concept and somehow managed to get the feel right a couple of times. Meanwhile, some of us actually prepared for that audition.” Y/N was fed up with Mina’s princess behaviour. Always thinking that everything is rightfully hers and expecting everyone to kiss her ass. All that just because her father was donating a big sum of money to the university every term. They are donations at the end of the day and she should not be expecting special treatment just for that.

      Mina’s face became a crimson red for the second time in ten minutes and she stomped away from Y/N’s table. The few people that were watching them averted their eyes when Y/N took a look around.

      From the corner of the cafeteria, someone was watching them with a smirk on their face. Oh, how he got just the perfect idea.

            Y/N sat in the second closest row to the professor. She was in “Canto class” as she liked to call it. It was one of the optional classes she chose to take that year. It wasn’t a compulsory class for Theater and Film majors since you don’t necessarily have to know how to sing to be an actress but she took it anyway because she thought it would be fun. And so far it was.

      A loud bang invaded her left ear and she turned to find Han Jisung having his back to her and chatting with his friends that were seated a few rows behind them. She raised her eyebrow but didn’t question it. It wasn’t like the seat was occupied and she definitely had nothing against him sitting next to her. He probably just wanted to pay more attention since he and his friends are always distracted during class. 

      Y/N turned back to her stuff and opened her notebook to take another look at the notes from last class. Soon after the professor entered the classroom and the chatter died down. 

      She was vigorously writing in her notebook everything the professor was explaining to them. Suddenly she felt a touch on her left elbow and stopped for a second. She immediately resumed her writing, convinced that he probably did that by mistake. Not even a minute later she felt another touch on her elbow this time more evident. She ignored it again not paying much mind to it. Jisung’s elbow collided with hers causing her to push her notebook and scribble on it.

      She snapped her head towards him and felt anger overcome her when she noticed the smirk on his face. “What?” She whispers yelled in his direction.

      “Hi!” He did a short wave of his hand in her direction and she clenched her jaw. She closed her eyes and exhaled deeply before going back to her note-taking. She had only five minutes of peace before he poked her side again. She smacked his hand away from her and continued to mind her own business.

      Throughout the class, Jisung kept bothering her and trying to talk to her despite her obvious wish to let her take notes. When the bell rang she got up quickly, her blood boiling and left the room in a hurry hoping she could lose Jisung on the busy halls. As she was hurriedly making her way between the sea of people she felt an arm going over her shoulders and she crashed with the owner of the arm.

      “Why are you in such a hurry babe?” Jisung’s voice rang in her ear as they were practically glued to each other. She grabbed his hand and swung his arm away from her shoulders.

      “For the love of God, what do you want from me Han Jisung?” Exasperation was present in her voice as she threw him an ugly look.

      She couldn’t guess what he needed from her to annoy her to that extent. They were acquaintances and nothing more. They knew each other from that one class they shared and the longest interaction they had was when the professor prepared an interactive class once and they had to work in groups of five.

      He was the university’s “heartthrob” as people liked to call him. Y/N personally thought that that title should be given to Hwang Hyunjin who was majoring in Modern Dance. He was more mature than the rest of his friends, he was friendly with everyone and wasn’t pulling pranks on innocent people to entertain some brainless creatures. But who was she to oppose the masses?

      On top of doing all those things, Jisung was also in a relationship with Mina. Every time they are together they will target someone and will start making fun of them. More Mina than Jisung but he was still entertaining her actions and that made him as guilty as she was.

      “I need to ask you something. Or better, make you a proposal.” He winked at her and she felt an uncomfortable shiver run through her. How disgusting.

      “Ok, and what is it?” She threw him an expectant look and he started looking around.

      “Let’s talk outside where there are fewer people. You got a free period, right?” Confusion made its way on her face.

      “How do you know that? Are you weirdo following me?” She has never talked with him as friends and they share only one class. How on earth would he know her schedule?

      “What? No! I see you hanging out around the university all the time after our class.” She rolled her eyes at his answer and gestured her hand towards the closest exit out of the building signalling him to lead the way.

      Very soon they were seated on a bench under a tree somewhere behind the university. It was her first time coming there. Y/N usually liked to remain at the front of the building since couples usually liked to come there and make out sometimes even fuck.

      “I think we should start dating.” He blurted out and she froze for a second before jumping to her feet startling the man.

      “I knew you were fucking weird. I’m leaving!” What in the actual fuck did she think when she came here. For a second she expected a real conversation but Jisung’s main skills were flirting and making bad jokes. She set her expectations way too high for that conversation.

      She picked her bag from the bench and started leaving only to have Jisung grab her wrist and stop her. “Wait, let me explain. I swear you’ll understand better after.” Y/n wanted to turn and leave but the puppy dog eyes he gave her made her stay and listen to him. Now, don’t get her wrong, his expression didn’t soften her but if he was desperate enough to try the puppy eyes on her then it must be important to him.

      She plopped down on the bench and waited for him to start talking. “Look, I’m pretty sure you know Mina. And I know you two aren’t on great terms. I say we date so you can get back at her for all the things she has done to you.” He raised his eyebrows at her and pursed his lips.

      Y/N was the one that raised her eyebrow next as she leaned her head to the side. “Aren’t you and Mina dating?” 

      “Obviously not.” Jisung used a tone that pissed Y/N off. A tone that said ‘It was so obvious, how can you not know?’ and she didn’t like it one bit.

      “Oh, I’m so sorry! I must have read the signs the wrong way. I mean, it's not like you are always together and you carry her backpack around and you hang out outside of school six days out of seven and kiss before classes and make out behind the university probably right on this bench.”

      A smirk appeared on Jisung’s face. “Who’s following who now?”

      “Don’t flatter yourself. Mina’s voice is so annoying I could hear her every time she talked. When I would turn to see what was up now you two were most times engaged in some sort of PDA.” She spoke fast trying to prove that she wasn’t following him. She didn’t know why she felt the need to do that but the thought of Jisung thinking that she has some sort of interest in him was terrifying. He completely humiliated the last “unpopular” girl that confessed her feelings to him and at that moment the last thing she needed was for him to go around saying she is a stalker.

      “Well, we are getting there. I asked her out and she said that she’ll love to but it’s too fun to tease me. When I asked her ‘What if I get a girlfriend?’ she told me I can not find anyone better for me than her. When I saw you fighting in the cafeteria earlier I knew I found my perfect girl. Not only are you hot, but she also hates you.” Y/N raised an eyebrow at his words.

      “Hot?” Her tone was untrusting as this was the first time someone from uni had said that to her. 

      “Yeah. You didn’t think that guys came to last year’s theatre spectacles because they were actually interested in theatre, right?” A laugh left his mouth at her dumbfounded face as she registered his words. A blank expression adorned her face immediately after trying not to seem so surprised.

      “Well, not anymore.” She let her tongue trace her bottom lip before biting the flesh. “Ok, so tell me what you actually want us to do.” Uneasiness settled inside Jisung as he watched her bored face.

      “Well, I mean what I said. We should date. Or fake dating if you will. That way I can make Mina jealous and push her to run into my arms. I bet she can’t stand seeing me with you for too long.” He looked into her eyes hopefully thinking that maybe he convinced her but his hope was quickly shattered when she opened her mouth.

      “What are you? Five? I don’t want to get back at her and I have absolutely no reason to help you in your sick plan. I’m out of here!” Once again she picked up her bag to leave only for Jisung to grab her wrist and stop her, again.

      “Please Y/N! I’m desperate. I’ve been trying to date her for a year and a half already.” That was pathetic. She had absolutely no reason to help him. None at all. But something pushed her to stay and accept his offer. Maybe she could take advantage of the situation.

      Turning her head towards her she tried to keep a straight face as best as she could. “What do I get out of it?”

      Jisung’s face brightened instantly at her question and he held her hand with both of his. “Anything you want. If it’s possible I’ll do it.” His eyes were pouring into hers and a stupid sparkle was present in them.

      “I guess you were going to do that anyway but I want you to present me to your friends.” The same bored expression that she had on for almost the entirety of their conversation was adorning her face. Jisung was amazed at the lack of emotions she managed to show but she was an actress. Maybe she’s just good at her job.

      “Why? Do you have a crush on any of them?” A smirk was enveloping his facial features and he had a teasing tone. Y/N rolled her eyes at his comment.

      “No. Some of them seem like really interesting people but their only defect was hanging out with you. Now that I have to hang out with you too I might as well start talking to them.” She shook his hands off hers before putting it in her front pocket. “Now I have to go to class cause my free period is almost over. See you later, babe!” She winked at him before turning around and making her way to her next class.

      The next day she met with Jisung in front of the cafeteria so they could walk in together and “announce” their relationship. Somehow he got hold of her number and they texted the night prior about the terms of their little deal. She felt like laughing when she saw how serious he was about it. If he really did end up dating Mina she’ll be convinced that both of them are idiots.

      His arm was over her shoulders as they walked through the tables. Multiple people were staring at them but she decided to ignore them. Upon reaching the table she placed her tray down and took a seat. The people at the table were looking confused at one another and some were throwing Jisung questioning looks.

      “Everyone, meet my girlfriend.” He spoke gesturing with a hand towards her. She smiled at them and waved her hand, muttering a soft ‘Hi!’.

      One of them, who she recognised to be Lee Minho, a Modern Dance major cleared his throat. “Hey. It’s nice to meet you.” He had an awkward smile on. “What are you majoring in?”

      “Yeah, I don’t recall seeing you around campus.” Seo Changbin, a Music Production major added.

      “Oh, I…” She started talking but a puff coming from her left stopped her.

      “Seriously dude? You share a class. She’s L/N Y/N from your Theory and Improvisation class.” The voice belonged to Hwang Hyunjin and she felt a funny feeling in her stomach at the realisation that he knows her. Everyone around the table was throwing him weird looks.

      “You are right but how do you know that? I’m pretty sure you don’t take that class.” There was a trace of embarrassment in her voice.

      “I don’t but sometimes when I wait for those guys outside of the classroom I see you walking out.” He said that with nonchalance taking a bite from his food.

      “And how do you know her? She’s not a Music Production major otherwise we would have known. And she’s not a Dance major either otherwise Minho and Felix would have known about her as well.”Changbin’s tone was almost provoking as if Hyunjin had done something bad and he was about to reveal it.

      “She’s a Theatre and Film major. Last year when we went to all those theatre spectacles to support Jeongin I was actually paying attention to the plays. She had either the main role or the lead. I remember her being really good.” She felt her cheeks heat at his comment.

      “Thank you!” She threw him a smile. However, she got ignored as Lee Felix started talking.

      “Do you know her Jeongin?” She somehow felt offended by his question. Maybe that wasn’t his intention but he should have used a different tone.

      “Of course I do. We share almost all of our classes and last year we worked on multiple plays together.” Annoyance was present in his voice caused by his friends' ignorance.

      She knew Jeongin from the first day. He was the first to speak to her although they didn’t exactly become friends. They kept on working on plays together throughout the entirety of the first year of college but they kept everything mostly professional since they both had their own group of friends and she kind of disliked most of his friends.

      “Then how come you never talk about her?” Now, wasn’t Changbin an annoying one? She rolled her eyes discreetly at his question.

      “Because we are not the best of friends. Why don’t you talk about Kim Gina from your degree?” The youngest question was a good one. They were acquaintances and barely knew something about each other. What was he supposed to talk about?

      “Gina is not hot. What am I supposed to talk about?” The older male said calmly with a shrug of his shoulders.

      The water she was just drinking got stuck in her throat and she started coughing violently. Jisung started hitting her back repeatedly trying to help her swallow. When she finally calmed down she looked at him annoyed.

      “Who she is, is not important. What’s important is that she is my girlfriend” he gave Changbin a side look ”and you have to accept that. Stop talking about her like she is not sitting right in front of you.” A few of them raised their hands in defeat while some of them averted their eyes. Minho and Changbin rolled their eyes.

      She felt her blood pressure spike up at their action. She remembered why she never wanted to talk to any of them. Arrogant pricks.

      “Ok, Mister protective boyfriend. Just tell us when you break up.” Minho took a bite of his food done with the younger man’s antics. Everyone knew that he was in love with Mina. The moment she shows some interest in him he would probably leave this one in a heartbeat.

      Y/N sucked in a breath discreetly. He really got her worked up and she hated it. She put an arm around Jisungs shoulders and yanked him towards her, his face close to her chest. With her other hand, she grabbed the sides of his face making him look up at her and forcefully pursing his lips. 

      “Break up? Do you wanna break up with me, babe?” Y/N’s voice was mocking as if she was talking with a child. Jisung swallowed hard before shaking his head. She smiled at his response and used the hand from around his shoulders to ruffle his hair. “That’s what I thought.” She placed a short kiss on his lips before releasing him and turning back to her food.

      Everyone at the table was looking at both of them shocked, especially Minho and Changbin. She wanted to let a proud smile escape her but she controlled herself.

      For the rest of the lunch, she decided not to engage in any more discussions with Jisung’s friends. She continued eating her food and listened to them talking about things that didn’t involve her, occasionally responding to Hayoon’s texts.

      She was the first one to get up, impatient to go to her next class and not have to see them. “Bye guys. It was lovely meeting you!” She smiled at them, a smile half true because she did like some of them. “Bye babe. See you later!” She grabbed the sides of his face again placing another kiss on his lips before taking her empty tray and leaving them alone.

      The men all watched her as she made her way out of the cafeteria. When she closed the door behind her they all burst into laughter. Jisung was biting the inside of his cheek irked by their action. When the laughter stopped, Seungmin that was sitting next to him put his hand on his shoulder.

      “I absolutely adore your girlfriend. She knows how to keep her ‘babe’ in check I see.” Seungmin tried cupping his face as Y/N did but Jisung slapped his hand away.

      “Are you her good boy, Jisungie? Does she give you rewards if you listen to her?” Minho cooed at him and Jisung held back an insult.

      “Shut the fuck up. It’s not like that. She surprised me as well. Who the fuck knew she was going to do that?” When he proposed the whole fake dating thing to her he thought it would be easier. Looking at it now he can’t understand why he thought that. He saw the way her fights with Mina unfold and he knew she was an actress which meant that she was probably either crazy confident or really good at faking it. For some reason, he thought she would be easier to tease and control but it would be a lie if he said it didn’t intrigue him. He liked a challenge and if the prize was Mina he would try his best.

      “And you man” Chan spoke for the first time “what the fuck was that? Do you know her entire biography?” He was looking at Hyunjin who rolled his eyes.

      “I told you I paid attention to last year’s plays. On top of that, she’s hot. I remember that after one spectacle I and the guys from my dance group at the time talked about her for like a month. She was so..” The man let out a groan and threw his head back trying to explain what he meant.

      “Sure, tell me more. Did you masturbate to the thought of my girlfriend? Perhaps got any wet dreams about her?” Jisung commented, raising an eyebrow.

      Hyunjin winked at him as a smirk made its way on his face. Some of the guys simultaneously let out disgusted sounds at his gesture.

      “But how did this whole thing happen? I can’t remember a moment when you talked about her or when you were together.” Felix’s deep voice rang making everyone pay attention to him.

      Changbin suddenly let a gasp out and dramatically covered his mouth. “Yesterday our little Jisungie sat next to her in Theory and Improvisation and when the class ended he ran after her. I think he might have had a secret crush!” The older man teased.

      “Yeah, but she looked really annoyed with him. Hence why she sprinted out of the class. Why would she accept to date him if she looked like she’d rather listen to Mr Jung talk about the first piano ever invented.” Chan intervened making Jisung shrug his shoulders.

      “She was annoyed with me but what can I say? I’m so charming she couldn’t refuse me.” He leaned back in his chair putting his arms over the back of the chair. 

      “I think she did it out of pity. When she realized you’ve been trying to get Mina for a year and a half now she probably felt so bad for you she decided to sacrifice herself so you look less like a loser.” Hyunjin said his tone way to serious to be a joke.

      Jisung threw the man a deadly stare. “At least I didn’t masturbate to the thought of her like a fucking virgin.” He spat in the other man’s face.

      “Touche.”

[sugar-petals]

♡ måneskin scenario: getting to know ethan 

↳ NOTE. by popular demand and because i’m entirely enthralled by the phenomenon that is ethan torchio myself, here we go givin’ the gorgeous drummer some love.

word count. 5.5k

TAGS. no warnings all fluff, fem!oc, slice of life, photographer!reader, first date-ish, shy flirting, ot4 is part of the plot, ethan being sexy in heels

Jacob had enough of that twilight bullshit and joined a glam rock band. At least that’s what you thought seeing Ethan around for the first time. Setting up the kit, carrying his whiny band members around, fixing his ruffle shirt, chugging some water: Big gig tonight, extra long setlist. Five minutes later, complaining about his brocade shoes being hard to kick the bass drum with. Even later, silently nodding along to an impassioned Damiano speech crafted to boost the morale, and posing for your camera in his silver jumpsuit. Friendly to approach all the way, but without initiating stable eye contact even once.

One thing’s for sure. As your favorite professor said back at university: Someone may be photogenic and unearthly as hell in terms of looks, and even be intimidating — but also so damn shy, you won’t see their eyes a single time. „Gotta work with it and not against. Then it gets interesting“. In essence, the takeaway from that course. Which does come in handy now. Ethan seems like the kind of guy you really have to get into for a more intimate-feeling picture.

Sure, many people in front of your camera have all kinds of introverted personalities anyway, wearing sunglasses in particular. So much about eye contact in the first place. And the aesthetic is priority, not studying character. Although you really are a fan of that, it’s a huge part of photography if anything. Alas, you’re here to „capture nothing more but the spirit of italo-rock, the attitude, the hedonism!“ (the exact words of your boss) for a music magazine after all. Really, nothing more? You paid attention to how he worded it. Fair enough. Rock spirit, that’s all, the exciting parts.

Ethan surely has it. Drumming on everything he can find during rehearsal breaks („music is everywhere“) with his sticks, even Thomas’ amplifier. He’s actually dorkier than you thought, less composed when he’s in his element. First impressions do deceive. The hair’s hard to miss, too. It’s the central motif that attracts you. You may or may not have taken over 50 shots of it just because. Ethan is a bad bitch and he better know. You climb around the venue to get any salient angle of Måneskin you can think of. Even from all the way back, last row. You don’t want to annoy them being all up in their face constantly. You’re hired to get all the good shots, they’ve been a band for seven years already, professionals in the making. Doesn’t mean you have to stand below the edge of the stage and never change position.

Even from back there, the silver reflects beautifully at the back of the stage. The fashion’s all designer and it shows, but Ethan couldn’t look bad in any of the shots even if he tried or wore the plainest black suit (hell, that would be just as beautiful in fact). Just how long is that hair anyway. All the way down to the solar plexus, must be 24 inches or more. 25, even. Many rockers would wear it that way, but Ethan seems particularly interesting with how he touches it, how he behaves with it. There we go again with the character study, you can’t help wondering.

But really. It’s any photographer’s dream when someone moves their hair around so damn naturally. Gives a great variety to how it frames and shades the face. You like to play with light all the time. And hey, why ask for eye contact when he does even better posing in other ways. The body, too, Ethan’s posture is great. Victoria and Thomas often bend to really get into their power chords, Damiano frequently hunches forward for a belt. But Ethan’s throned at his kit like some royals taught him to be a good boy. Back straighter than a pole, how the hell.

No glance in your direction still, even if you return from your last row spot to move around on stage with the camera. Which gives the band a motivation boost and chances to try out gestures up close, too, so even better. Hey, maybe it doesn’t annoy them. You can actually get used to it, this way of photographing them is all dynamic. Nearing the end of the first rehearsal, you’re all busy maneuvering between Thomas and Damiano to get a nice semi-profile from Ethan’s left side. Gotta work with it not against, you chant to yourself as a mantra, and it seems easier to stick to than you thought.

How glossy all that hair is commands all the attention of your shutter release in and of itself. That he takes good care of it and has been growing it since forever shows a dedicated guy. It’s actually quite wavy. The band arrived in the pouring rain and Ethan’s curly strands at the crown and nape of the head were definitely showing — super cute. An army of stylists took on the resulting humidity frizz. They whipped out the straightening iron and protective spray, and even now before the big performance, Ethan brushes his hair out in front of you, and sweeps it around with his fingers anyway. You take pictures of the bits you find most candid, and decide to rather perfect single shots instead of making several in a row. The more you photograph him, the more you want to discover his essence in one picture. His sheer presence almost begs for it, it’s ridiculous.

Victoria on the other hand has no problems with rapid-fire releases and comes close to your lens to pull funny faces. She’s got some of the coolest poses you’ve ever seen with her bass, and hops around the stage like a bunny to the beat. Thomas is a virtuoso and pro who keeps on doing what he does when you make him pose, and Damiano can flirt with any camera ever. He even lowers his red leather jacket off his collar bones for you to have a great shot. He’s promising and most definitely a born divo, your boss will be happy with those pictures most definitely.

Then again. Behind that supposed hedonism is so much hard work and thought. Damiano even gives you ideas for angles during the second rehearsal. „Hm, maybe stand on the amplifier?“ Eagle perspective, not a bad idea at all. After trying out said suggestions with the help of triggered stage security making sure you don’t fall off the construction („eh, Damiano always suggests the most reckless things to staff, don’t mind him“), you find yourself concentrating on what goes on at the back of the stage all over again.

Ethan is busy practicing a new solo which has you curious about whether it’s for an upcoming album. Though again — the shoes cause trouble. Ethan complains again, the music stops. That could very well be the reason why he seems so preoccupied today, or is it? The manager tells the stylist, and the stylist hurries, voilà, Ethan has a new pair of shoes brought in. Ones with a thicker sole, bit of a chunky heel, and laced up rather than being slippers, a drummer’s worst nightmare as you have learned today.

You wait until he changed. Then snap some more pictures how he continues practicing calmly, and the sound did improve since he can kick the bass drum better now. Now you position yourself across the stage all over, in the empty audience ranks. Ethan is the most radiant and confident when you just take a step back. But well, he still sweeps his hair around a whole lot and looks even more tense-looking than Damiano who’s doing vocal warmups and jumping jacks, „Come on guys, come on, we’re starting in 30 minutes!“.

You can tell he does it more often when he’s nervous. And that means he does it very often. People would probably assume it’s vanity, or the fact that the hair gets in the way. You can see that for him it’s a place of distraction, maybe safety. A gesture like an anchor. He’s used to it being long just like his eye shadow being dark and smoky all day. He knows the drums by heart, if it falls in his face no need to shake it away. And besides. The strands reach below his shoulder blades, it stays down his back if he doesn’t move around too much. He could easily tie it up as well. All those things go through your mind without you even knowing why.

To switch things up a little, you photograph Thomas fooling around with Victoria at the snack bar, stuffing fries up their noses, and already see the lighting technicians do their final check. Some of them you know briefly, you made shots at this venue before, last year for a Shakespeare theatre play. You did some freelance work in the scene, but now you’re put to the test for more involved jobs. Hard to complain though, Måneskin are amazing in front of the camera. If Damiano is not the ideal Hamlet, you don’t know anymore.

Something new happens all the time, the expressions are priceless. Ethan’s in particular, when he does his wide-eyed surprise faces learning that there’s actually healthy food at the snack bar. „Vitamins, how nice.“ — Thomas, pokerfaced, reacts with eating a mayonnaise-dripping sandwich. Ethan, unfazed. Headed straight to the fruits. You’ve never seen a tall silver glitter tower like him walking around biting a bright red apple. Well, you can take Jacob out of twilight, but not the twilight out of Jacob. Snap, another picture. Clash of words, that’s a nice theme.

The concert of this evening seems particularly energetic and leaves your camera roll with some brilliant, tweet-worthy material. Damiano covered in confetti, eyeliner running. Victoria on the shoulders of Ethan while he’s playing her bass.  Thomas, stagediving. Fans waving banners and chanting along to Seven Nation Army. Your ears are ringing when the light technicians close down the stage two hours later. Thomas really played his soul out with the solos, and your feet seem to vibrate. That’s your body thinking Victoria’s bass is still playing, but the magazine is very happy with how the pictures turned out after you send the whole batch to them as soon as you can.

Little to no retouching, zooming, or cropping necessary. Ethan is just perfect as he is, you feel like you captured him well. After swiping through the gallery on your tablet, you think Victoria has some great ant’s eye perspective shots as well. Those go right on your own blog, she’s just amazing. The magazine has an enthusiastic article typed out already. Damiano’s mid-air split on beat for the final song makes the cover story on Monday, and Måneskin’s manager comes back to you a week later. „What would you think about doing some behind the scenes stuff for us? We’re planning a music video!“

And that’s how you end up in a Sicilian restaurant with Måneskin and crew a week later, stuffed with Calzone and mind filled with Damiano’s inspiring words (and the occasional catchy freestyle rap). The MV is as good as finished. Thomas had shown you around the mansion they were shooting at, and you could convince a taciturn  Ethan to walk between the marble statues and boxwood trees in the garden. With his black cape on, a rhinestone choker, and the low-cut lacey blouse that the MV director was obsessed with as well, asking you to focus on it. Your best shot even ends up in the thumbnail of the Youtube video without you even expecting it would.

All the garden pictures turned out mindblowing. If not iconic, the best project you had so far. Gets to show you the best things are often improvised. Ethan, stoic as always, sat at the base of armor-clad Emperor Augustus twisting into the blue sky in a large gesture. The marble was a perfect contrast. Ethan ate a ripe pear from a tree, even that was aesthetically pleasing, then leaned against a hunting Apollo, and you also framed him from the back next to Aphrodite and Cesar. He put on his sunglasses underneath Achilles, and knelt at the feet of a Pietà replica. Marvelous panorama shots, with him the shining center. Well, we know since Queen that the drummer is the unrealistically pretty one.

The whole picture series is blowing up on your blog for the whole afternoon. „Count Dracula on a stroll in Versailles — eugh, begone sunlight!“ is what a comment neatly sums it up as. People seem to especially like the shot where Ethan playfully put his cape over Pallas Athena’s spear with a blurry Thomas having a laughing fit in the background. Well, even Count Drac gets photobombed sometimes. Your phone buzzes with notifications every other minute, you do notice it against your thigh. But the insalata of the restaurant is good and the night is young. Victoria and the manager tell old stories of Thomas snapping a guitar string while he was trying to serenade a highschool crush. Ethan scolds them for making fun of it.

Damiano gets drunk and dances on the table, the MV director discusses new ideas, some walk-in fans take pictures. The temperature is still unbearable. You order a dessert to share with Victoria and Ethan. A large tiramisu that the waiter cuts in three pieces, and it’s truly delectable. The chocolate, so crunchy, melty. The cream, fluffy and cool, making for a funny white beard that makes Ethan look like an arctic scientist returning from an expedition.

Of course, you take pictures, all the food is documented. As are late night restaurant shots with Damiano’s heels peaking into the frame when you photograph the band’s friendship bracelets, hand-made by Victoria on a tour bus last year. Damiano’s back down on the table soon, singing, while Ethan creates a beat with two forks. Thomas also agrees to take your camera for a while so you’d be in the frame for a change, too.

You pose for a group picture, or rather a group hug, and being in the middle …Ethan’s arm wraps around your shoulder loosely, hair dangling into his face, but also brushing yours. He focuses on the camera, facing away from you. The schooled eye could catch you breaking a sweat in the resulting photo. Ironically, the tiramisu doesn’t cool you down the way you thought. Thomas is too busy trying to figure out your camera dials and yelling „hey eyebrow king, smile!“ at Ethan.

A round of even more gelato goes down in spoons and spoons. The band members eat like they ran a marathon. Ethan clinches a third round because he can, unhealthy be damned, he needs some sugar and refreshment. And it’s true the MV shooting was strenuous in the heat, and had lots of intense performing parts. Even an invisible rope suspension were Thomas would descend from a ceiling during the chorus with little cherub wings attached to his back because why not. If the manager agreed to recreate this on tour some day, the pictures would be amazing.

You can’t help but think what kind of special effect would suit Ethan the most, and you come to the conclusion that a bridge lift would be the coolest thing ever. A rising part of the stage letting him emerge like an elevator from the underground.  Maybe using smoke machines, too. The idea twirls around in your mind so intensely, Damiano asks if you’re wasted. You’re always getting carried away with all kinds of fantasies like that for over a week now. A dreamy photographer? Not unusual, but it’s seriously distracting you from the present moment.

The crew slowly heads home, and the band decides (translation: Victoria’s mood is) to head to the movies. Just when the waiter arrives with the bill, Damiano spills panna cotta all over Ethan by accident. So bad he’s all sticky from the shoulders down, making Ethan opt for the hotel instead. Besides, he’s been drumming his soul out, sleep is so needed now. Since the group is already gone and there’s still a forgotten cymbal left to carry back to the equipment bus by the hotel, you help Ethan maneuver it around. The heat is making either of you sweat, even with the full dark of the night coming up.

The gaffer lady you’re sharing a hotel room with is already fast asleep. Damn it. You want to cut a video and make screenshots with the laptop being decently bright. And with some volume if possible, you don’t find headphones in the darkness of the room. Ethan clears the desk in his own room for you after removing his make-up. He looks so young and beautiful and tired.

You type and drag and double click yourself through the video and do some last blog updates to deal with all the notifications. Ethan lends you some headphones, but you only keep them on one ear. The humming is too nice to ignore. Nor do you know what to even expect. The bathroom door is open, Ethan is topless washing the lace blouse by hand. Only wearing bellbottom pants and his lace choker — nothing else. He’s fully immersed in his task. He even adds some other shirts and silk scarves into the soap water along the way while he’s at it.

You’ve never seen someone do their own laundry so systematically. Ethan looks like Prince Caspian at the sink, wielding the almond soap bar like his weapon of choice against the enemies of Narnia (the devious panna cotta that’s still sticking to everything). He might be all mysterious, but he’s well able to curse all kinds of things. You tease Ethan for dropping his gentlemanly behavior for a stain of dessert. Ethan insists you sound like Thomas trying to test him with his slick comebacks, which makes you laugh. The blog has calmed down a little and your eyes hurt from editing, so you call it a day and send one last e-mail.

Ethan is drowning in bubbles at this point. The whole room smells like fabric softener. He thanks you for helping him carry around the equipment earlier. In return, you say grazie for him being your perfect muse in the garden today. Philosopher he is, Ethan remarks how Måneskin is usually the one searching for muses, now he ended up one himself — „Maybe not a bad thing, eh. Become the thing you want or something.“ That’s way too deep for a summer night in Sicily, and both of you need a huge portion of sleep. Tomorrow, lots of schedule. You do find yourself wanting to help lick that dessert off his chest. No way you’d tell him.

Ethan waddles off to shower after a crooked, reserved smile for a good night departure. When you close the door to your room and start brushing your teeth, the other members’ voices emerge in the hotel corridor — they’ve returned from the movies. Damiano is even more wasted than before and audibly sings. „You’ve looked at the photographer lady in a certain way earlier, huh. I saw, I saw!“ Victoria does a loud ‚shh‘ noise, and the stoic reply is a simple „Sleep, Damiano, you’ve had too much.“ Thomas giggles, and four doors click shut. Damiano’s singing is now muffled for two minutes until it’s silent. How the fuck can you even sleep after hearing that.

You assumed that Ethan would treat you differently the next morning, in whatever shape or form. But he doesn’t. The greeting is short as it would always be, and he informs you that he did manage to wash out the sugary clay from his clothes as he puts it. Damiano says nothing, adjusts his rings. Thomas randomly pulls zippers at his packed-up equipment. Victoria headed to the car already. Downtown to a studio it goes. The group gets styled to perfection, twenty minutes later they make a reaction video to the newly released MV teaser. Ethan talks about enjoying the sculptures in the garden.

Three hours down the line, you shoot some promotional pictures of them at a pool. Thomas has the time of his life perfecting his diving board skills, and Damiano creates the musical background, singing and prancing. The aerials would make literal perfect editorial-in-VOGUE material. In the meantime, Victoria dozes in the sun. Ethan dives. Sometimes just sitting at the bottom of the pool, othertimes swimming back and forth. The art director suggests you to go into the water, too. He’s right, the perspective works out well this way.

You’re basically standing in there with your flowy pantalon pants and camisole, using a waterproof camera. Your bikini is back at the hotel. It doesn’t matter, everything will dry quickly, the others went in the pool with clothes as well. And you’re all too wrapped up in your passion in the first place. You marvel at how fun the whole scenery looks through your lens. Their outfits are cropped and luminous, today’s color is bright red. You order the lighting assistant back and forth, get some more great Thomas frames where he tosses around a volleyball that the manager brought along. Less rock than usual, but it works. Måneskin at a pool in Sicily.

Damiano splashes water around like crazy. Victoria joins the fun as well, splashing right back. It’s infernal. Well, those are going to be dynamic pictures, you think, and the cameraman never dies, so. Ethan resurfaces every other minute, wiping the chlorine from his eyes. He slicks his hair back with both hands, looking down his body learning how his shirt has become completely transparent. He covers his chest with his hair, quickly, then submerges again. It’s strange. Being topless is usually no big deal in Måneskin.

Almost 12 o’clock. Thomas and Damiano wander off to work on some lyrics, probably the title that the drum solo is part of. All top secret. Victoria returns to her sun lounger, checking her phone. The crew heads for lunch, but you stay in the water, gladly you put sunscreen on earlier. You ask Ethan to try some seated or floating poses at the bottom of the pool that you saw him practice earlier. „No worries, keep your eyes closed.“

What unfolds before you is the most beautiful thing. Ethan’s shirt fans out like a red jellyfish underwater, playing around his body. His figure is just enviable. He gets the hang of it and knows quite how to move. Or rather, to remain stable when the pose is perfect. Hands above his head, horizontal, or seated, only one foot  lightly sweeping over the pool floor, or on one knee, as if he proposed.

Raising his arms helps him sink down and settle, as if he immersed himself in deep meditation. Although the purpose of meditating is to be present, isn’t it. And that’s what he feels like. Ethan would normally switch on autopilot for most of his public interactions, now he’s alive and fully in the concentrated movements of the photoshoot. So much about improvising all over again. The hair creates the most incredible shapes like a black, wide brushstroke, clearly outlined. Thank god you have the waterproof camera. These are moments you’ll never forget.

Your blog notifications keep on bleeping throughout the afternoon. The promotional pictures are a hit. Måneskin’s manager is basically waving five new contracts in front of your face at dinner, but you’re kind of spaced out again. The cozy, rose-ranked atmosphere of the street café you went to is inspiring, and the members dressed up in the most fancy suitwear. Men in Black? Måneskin in Black. It’s almost as if fate read your mind. Ethan is looking at you very intently from across the table when the minestrone is served.

Pasta shells, parsley, vegetables and basil leaves. The scent surrounds the entire table. Damiano, in serious mode tonight, is too busy finding new rhymes and an alternative chorus with Thomas who wildly brainstorms. Victoria drinks, loudly chats with the gaffer lady that you share a room with, and they use a leaf of a palm tree pot plant to tickle Damiano. Thomas plays the acoustic guitar. Ethan and you end up smiling briefly at another. „Bon apetit,“ you say. It’s almost 34° celsius. That’s going to be an entire pile of cheesecake gelato tonight.

Five signed contracts later and halfway through a hefty caprese cake, the title song is finished. An ode to Marlena, fierce like the Mediterranean sea. The piece certainly sounds exactly like this place. Strangers listen to Damiano performing bits and pieces, but you decide to disperse when too many cellphones come out. Damiano wants to go to a bar, Thomas and Victoria carry home their guitars, or to the hotel to be exact, and bags of newly shopped vintage clothes. You ask Ethan if there are any cinemas around the area. „We missed out last time, remember.“

The Palazzo Theater is a small and hidden insider tip far from the main street with its busy beach tourists. Under bulbous metal balconies and peach-colored facades, a small entrance with lanterns on each side guides you inward. Ethan almost hits his head, it’s so low. He’s wearing glossy red bottoms under his suit pants, you’re out and about with a 6’2 giant after all — a statue by himself. A small man with a pipe sells you cheap tickets for a Mads Mikkelsen movie and lemonade, Ethan picks up an XXXL caramel popcorn bucket. You think he’s flexing, but you get a sudden heureka by looking at it twice.

Unlike the S, M, and L bags, it’s thick cardboard and drum-shaped. Oh my god, obviously. Which fine percussionist could ever resist such temptation striped in red and white, the sound deep and dull? It makes you smile how Ethan pursues his instrument even when he seemingly doesn’t, it really has to be a hobby at heart. That’s how a job becomes a profession, and a profession a vocation, your uni professor’s other favorite words all over again. The latter’s words have gotten you far so you again trust the insight that came to you through that quote.

Seeing Ethan standing there, you can almost see the childlike joy at imagining it being empty and ready to get turned around. A tuxedo Italian with Louboutin heels and a ginormous popcorn drum, half past eleven somewhere in Palermo: Ingenious combination, you snap a picture. Ethan makes a cute face, posing like a pinup of the 50s. Who knows how many vintage store posters he’s seen during tours, he must have picked it up there. And— Is he blushing? Must be the dim lights in here.

Off you go to the auditorium. Ethan, who balance the popcorn with all care in the world like it’s his baby, walks the aisle slower than you. The slim steps don’t have any floor lighting. Not very heel-friendly, but since it’s not a huge budget theater and few people dare spike heels on those cobblestones outside anyway, the stairs shall be forgiven. You take out your phone and offer your arm. For every gentleman it takes a gentlewoman, duh. Like rock’n’roll and the camera staff, chivalry (or shevalry as Damiano calls it when Vic holds the door open) never dies. He mumbles a thanks, you climb upward to the fourth-last row, Ethan holds on tight.

No ankles twisted and not one popcorn spilled, you get seated on red velvet. The chairs are dated, but nevertheless ultra comfortable. Nobody else is here. The adverts roll, Ethan cracks open the lemonade bottle caps with his chunky golden lighter because he can. You toast to Mads Mikkelsen’s bone structure and good minestrone, Måneskin’s finished title track, the promo pics, and the discovery of Ethan’s favorite new drum. A whopping five things to toast about? The night’s going to be great.

Damiano catwalking across the screen, wearing a Versace skirt in the middle of otherwise-boring commercials does shake you up. He was picked as a testimonial recently. Though, your pulse is high enough. Ethan’s hair is brushing against your shoulders, not to mention his goddamn massive arms. He can’t get out a single word either for the entirety of the ads, avoiding eye contact all over again. Just how much suspense can starting to eat the first popcorn have. Well, you pick two  from the very top and start munching.

Mads does a great job opening the movie as one would expect, but you just can’t concentrate. Instead, you stress-eat popcorn. Which makes Ethan do the same thing, at least he’s somewhat fixated on the screen. After the first ten minutes, he shakes his head. „That makes no sense at all,“ he clears his throat. „Yeah, yeah it  clearly doesn’t,“ you agree, basically on Torchio-autopilot yourself for the lack of a better reply. You were too busy figuring out the components of his aftershave rather than the thin plot. Shifting in your seat, chugging lemonade…

The air conditioning is scarce, but at least the screen is quite large and proper. You try to focus on the cinematography and do small talk about it. If there’s something you can comment on without having followed the string of action, it’s at least this.  You might be nervous, but you’re still a photographer. „Um, isn’t this chainmail nice in the closeup?“ — „Hm, I guess it works. We should ask Damiano to request something like this from Versace.“ — „Medieval Måneskin Rockers?“ — „Something like that.“ — „Hilarious.“

By the twenty-minute mark, the popcorn drum is almost empty. Gladly, that stuff just shrinks to bits in the stomach. The lemonade just has to galvanize it. You might be able to distract yourself with the camera shots and the last caramel chunks, but that doesn’t change Ethan’s long legs and Acqua di Parma perfume next to you. Yep, you finally figured out what it was, it wasn’t the aftershave. And well. Ethan smells like hotel soap from Milano to Napoli and back.

That scent basically dominates all the others besides a hint of cigar and basil and citrus-y deodorant mixed with runny sweat. God fuck, you can barely stand it. And the almond scent. You take a chance to at least jokingly point it out to him. The random movie flashback sequence is boring — and just as nonsensical as before, no offense to Mads though, he’s just walking around in chain mail — enough to deviate from whatever choppy convo you had going on before.

„I actually washed it twice,“ Ethan pulls off the silky scarf that functions as his current tie, and you recognize it. „The strawberry sauce was hard, but the cranberries… God no, I’ll never go near pana cotta again. Nothing against cream desserts.“ You take the scarf, smell it. Did he literally just hand it to you? Figures, he’s sweating bullets, too. And oh shit, he hasn’t talked that much all evening.

You slowly shift from bodies turned to the screen to facing each other. So up close, so up front, only God can help you know. His eyes are dark and reflective of the film’s flickering lights and changing scenes. You wish you could photograph them on sight. It would be as glimmering as your view from the hotel room, overwatching the unobstructed stars of the Mediterranean bay down the boulevard.

But it’s like you’re stuck in your position this way, feverishly thinking about a reply. What to pick up on, what to pick up on. You think about today, the evening where you edited things in his room. „Uh well, drop your laundry in the pool next time,“ you laugh, more than tentative, with your fingers randomly curling around the scarf. „The chlorine stuff will do the job for you. It’s so aggressive, it bleached by pants one shade lighter.“

Saved. Smooth transaction. Phew. „Oh, the pool was horrible. Not the photos, I mean… I don’t know how you can poison water that way.“ — „I know right? It’s still in my nose. But yeah, was a good idea with the underwater thing. The photos turned out really well.“ — „I really haven’t done something like that before but I guess it turned out hm, nice?“ — „Come on! Nice is understated. Are you fishing for compliments?“ — „No no, by all means!“ — „The one kneeling. It’s my favorite. I don’t even know what to do with all these pictures.“

„I don’t know. Maybe keep them?“ — „Keep… for what?“ — „It’s a separate series, right. The art director didn’t request it. Maybe they can be used for something later on during promotions.“ — „Yeah. We’re always a little extracurricular,“ you laugh again, tense in your voice, and empty your lemonade completely. „This, too,“ Ethan points at the theatre in general. „You’re good to talk to. The better version of alone time.“ — „Thank you. You’re great to go out with. I… really like it.“ Beautiful nature scenes show on screen, but they’re nothing but a blur. You take Ethan’s hands in the dark and smile. „Maybe we should do it more often.“

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© submissive-bangtan 2017-2021. all rights reserved. do not repost or translate. all depictions fictional.

[obae-me]

Hi! It said requests were open so here is one. So pretty much how the brothers would react to an MC who says "I love you" after they had helped them with something. Thats something I do regularly, like someone helps them and they respond with "Oh my gosh I love you, thank you so much!" Cause. Affection. Idk, i just found the idea to be cute.

This is such a cute idea! I hope I pulled it off okay, for some reason Belphie’s is a bit angsty because I like pain I guess, but most of it is fluff! Thank you for your suggestion! 💜

Lucifer

He openly admitted it caught him off guard at first. What he will never admit is how harshly the air escaped from his lungs. Or how quickly his mind went blank at the words. 

He had simply brought MC some tea, noticing how hard they had been studying. Working day and night to try to catch up and understand topics demons themselves had spent decades learning. He was proud of them for working so hard. He settled the tea down by them, watching them beam with appreciation. 

“Is that for me?” 

Their question elicited an amused hum from him. “Is there anyone else in here?” 

They wrapped their fingers around it excitedly, entirely grateful. “Ugh, thank you, I love you, I needed this.” 

He had been lucky he settled the teacup down before they spoke. Had it remained in his hands, he most assuredly would’ve dropped it, or spilt the contents at the very least. He was not prepared at all. They hadn’t been down here nearly long enough to fall in love with him, right? Was he that alluring? He must’ve done something wrong, he was sure he had been focused solely on being intimidating. He didn’t remember doing anything in particular to elicit such a response. He was flattered, but...maybe--surely-- he had heard incorrectly. 

“You…” He blinked a few times as he shoved his emotions into the back of his mind, the silent screaming in his head muffled by his usual calm exterior. “..love me?”

MC covered their mouth with their hands, recognizing his confusion no matter how hard he tried to hide it. “No, no!” 

Well now he was a bit irritated, and secretly disappointed even. Were they playing a joke on him? 

They stammered and turned more in their seat to look at him. “What I mean is, I just kinda use the term ‘I love you’ as a general term, not an…” They blushed, “..intimate one. I say it all the time to people, I’m really sorry for confusing you. I’ll try not to say it as casually.” 

It was a bit unusual to hear something like that thrown around so often, it reminded him of his days in the Celestial Realm, love thrown around at the drop of a hat. The Devildom was a lot less...affectionate. He shook his head, any sign of his surprise now completely gone from view. “Don’t change a harmless habit like that for me, I just wasn’t expecting it. I’ll know now for the future.” 

It takes him quite a while to get used to it, taking every ounce of concentration not to blush whenever MC says that they love him. Once he does get used to it, he’s fond of it and may or may not continually go out of his way to perform some simple gesture to encourage them to say it to him more often. It takes even longer after that for him to finally respond with “I love you too” making them stop dead in their tracks, heart fluttering, mouth ajar, much like he did that first day when he brought them a simple cup of tea. He relished the look on their face.

How such a human stirred up these feelings within him is beyond his understanding. 

Mammon 

He was an open mess when MC first expressed it to him. He’d done what? Just find a pretty rock on the ground? It was shiny and smooth, surely worth a fortune, but when he went to see how much it was worth, it was declared utterly worthless. So he gave it to MC--but only because it was useless okay?! It’s not like he likes MC or anything, that’s not what this is about. Obviously.

He handed it over, acting casual, like it was nothing. Their eyes lit up at it, watching it glint mesmerizing colors in the moonlight, reacting like it might as well have been a diamond. “Whaaat, it’s so cool, I love you, thank you!” 

“Don’t say I never do anything for-” It had taken a few seconds to process, but once he realized the words that had come out of their mouth, he went frozen. Rigid. His other brothers might’ve called it a miracle. His jaw was open, his glasses had somehow slipped to the end of his nose, threatening to fall off. He didn’t even blink.

“I’m sorry, I guess demons aren’t quite used to that huh? I use it as a friendly term, I used to say it to my friends all the time back home.” 

He was still as stone for a good long time, gradually building up the concern in MC’s chest the more he was reactionless. Had they broken him? Once he finally gathered his one erratic brain cell in order, it was like someone hit a sudden unpause. He quickly puffed out his chest with both his hands on his hips. The explanation they gave him went in through one ear and out the other, as he was still focused on the ‘I love you’. 

“Don’t freak me out like that, human, but of- of course if you were to love someone, it’d be me, eh? I don’t blame you, it would be hard to resist the Great Mammon.” 

He’ll get a big head about it, strutting around, bragging to anyone who would listen--not that he gave them a say on the matter--that MC expressed they loved him. Doesn’t matter if there were romantic intentions or not, MC loved him, and he wouldn’t let it go. He’ll ignore the fact that MC will say that to most anyone.

“Yeah, well, when they say that about me, it’s different!” Or he’ll put on an act. “Yeah? Not like I care about some dumb human!” 

The more he takes time to know MC, the more possessive he acts, and he gets a little bent out of shape anytime MC says ‘I love you’ so casually to anyone other than him. Mostly because he’s greedy for it, he wants those words to be his and his alone. He wants MC to be his...and his alone. 

“Oi, MC, you can’t just go saying that to anyone...It’s our thing...you know?” He’ll get endlessly teased about it by everyone in the household, but no matter how much he gets pestered about it, he still wants to hear MC say it.

Only if things get romantic between them, will he be vulnerable with MC. Whenever they’re alone, he’ll get in close, melting against MC’s touch. With MC he can feel these strange and addicting feelings. With his hidden insecurities coming to light, he’ll ask MC the same question every night. “You love me, right? Like...love love me?...I...love love you too.”

Levi 

MC had been convinced they gave the poor boy an actual heart attack. Although, to be perfectly fair, almost anything MC does puts Levi in a tizzy. It’s not their fault, he’s just sensitive. 

They had been playing games together, nothing too unusual. Together, MC and Levi, the Best Friend Duo, battled an intense match against other real players. It had been close, but with both of their talents combined (admittedly Levi doing a lot of impressive carrying) they managed to strike victorious. 

MC felt a rush, their head tingling a bit. They had been on the edge of their seat the whole time, positively exhilarated when they won. “Whoo! That was all thanks to you, Levi! I love you!” 

First, MC heard the controller clatter out of his hands. They turned to look at him, his face went completely red, his eyes flicking back and forth out of control, not focusing on anything in particular. He had a hand clutching over his chest. Then to add on top of that, he completely collapsed. 

“Levi!” MC’s shout was loud enough to bring some of his other brothers to check the commotion. After a short examination, they declared that Levi was fine, just dazed and lightheaded, although the color in his face refused to go away for quite some time. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you, I meant it in a friendly way.” 

He’ll end up locking himself in his room for days on end after the event, trying to wrap his head around how ‘I love you’ and ‘friendly’ could ever be even remotely the same. That’s not how it’s supposed to go! It’s supposed to be like...like in fiction where both of the love interests are alone, finally having the chance to meet up under a pretty sky, possibly under strenuous circumstances beyond their control, inevitably forcing them to admit their feelings! 

He’ll get over it, he always does, but when he comes back he finds out MC now deliberately avoids saying ‘I love you’ to him. They meant it for his own safety, truly, but his Envy is now rubbing away at his normal shy personality. 

It'll get to the point where he can’t hold back anymore. “How come you tell everyone else you love them but me!” 

“Because last time...you collapsed, and then went MIA for almost a week! I didn’t want to hurt you anymore. Is this not what you wanted?”

He ends up using his arm to cover his burning face. “I...I...I...I…” After several more consecutive ‘I’s, Levi finally tells MC that he didn’t want to be treated differently, he wanted MC to tell him that they loved him too. “Because I...lo..lo...lov...I appreciate you, MC!” 

MC will chuckle a little, giving him one of his favorite headpats. “I love you too, Levi.” He doesn’t collapse this time, but feels his knees get a little weak. He refuses to remove his arm from his face because now there are fresh tears flooding from his eyes that he doesn’t want MC to see. He loves them too, so much his physical body can’t handle it. Even if he doesn’t have the courage yet to say it, he’ll tell them one day. 

Satan 

He’s quite angry with himself for how he reacted, which isn’t a huge surprise. He does wish he would’ve handled it better, but he had no idea those three words would be sprung on him so suddenly. 

He’s usually quite down to earth, but not even the many romance novels he’s read--and if you tell anyone that he reads gushy romance novels, he will kill you--had prepared him for this. Where was the buildup, the slow rising passion before the eventual confession? Despite occasional temper tantrums and pranking tendencies, he’s truly an old soul. He’s a ‘my dearest, shall we take a stroll, and perhaps, should our shoulders brush, would you permit me a show of boldness, of passion, I dream for the day our fingers intertwine’ kinda guy. So MC’s ‘I love you’ was many chapters early for him. 

He’d crossed paths with MC near the front door to the House of Lamentation. MC had just gotten back from RAD, being kept by Diavolo himself. Every one and a while, after classes, Diavolo personally checks up on them to discuss the program. Meanwhile, the demon of wrath was just on his way out, a full stack of books in his arms. 

“Hey, Satan, where’re you off to?” MC attempted to catch his gaze behind the many tomes stacked against his chest. 

“Ah, off to return these books back to the Library.” Some hair fell before his face, but with the absence of free hands, he utilized a puff of air from his mouth to blow the strands away. 

“I see, be safe then, love you!” 

The words caught him off guard, and with his focus distracted, his foot caught against an unfortunate crack in the pathway. He tumbled, the books in his arms scattering themselves all over the front yard. MC turned and attempted to help, but with Satan’s panicked scramble, he ended up smacking his head against MC’s. 

“My-uh-apologies-I-” He stuttered while he frantically tried picking up the books, only to have some continue to slip from his arms. 

“Here, use my bag,” MC opened the backpack that had been around their shoulders. It was already full of some textbooks and assignments, but it was enough to lessen some of the struggle. He gave them a small thank you as he slung the bag over his shoulder, the remaining stragglers tucked under his arm. He waited till MC went back into the house, and then he angrily tore the front gate off its hinges. He looked like such an idiot just now. 

He knows MC means not much of it other than general affection, once he thinks about it. Alongside Lucifer, anytime MC now says it, he’ll act unaffected by it. The truth is, the never ending rage burning beside him magically subsides anytime those words fall from their lips. 

If he works softly and intelligently enough, perhaps he’ll have forged a tight enough bond where MC can say it for real, and the fire in his soul can find some peace. 

Asmo

Honestly, despite his over dramatizations and flamboyant nature, he’s the least affected out of all the brothers. Trust him, he’s had plenty of demons try to crawl their way back to him after a night of fun, insisting that they’re in love with him. So, he’s heard it a lot, and it’s not his favorite. That being said, he discovered that MC is probably the only one he’ll tolerate the dreaded L word with. 

He’d sat there, working on MC’s nails, giving them one of his—as he calls it—Asmo-tastic manicures. MC appreciates the pampering, even if Asmo uses it mostly as an excuse to hold hands and get close to the human. 

When Asmo was complete, MC looked down at their newly soft hands with beautifully decorated nails, feeling a bit closer to the demons now that they had matching manicures. “It’s beautiful, Asmo, I love you, thanks!”

His chest did flutter a bit, and he let out a stream of giddy giggles as he pressed MC into him for a hug. “MC, you’re so cute, I can’t take it!” 

He had sworn to himself that he wouldn’t use the words ‘I love you’ ever, no matter what, but if MC was using it so casually, why can’t he, it didn’t mean much of anything right? He quickly turns a 180 on the idea, and says it as often to MC as he can. 

“Bye, MC, love you, dear! You’re wearing the outfit I gave you? I love you!” But his new form of affection is now not just centered towards the human, it’s now directed towards his brothers as well. No one is safe. “You’re giving me this, Lucifer? I love you! Beel, a snack for me? I love you!” 

He’s such a hype man, and the affection spreading throughout the House of Lamentation by his and MC’s hand is infectious. Even if they don’t mean to, simply Asmo’s added influence has the brothers saying ‘I love you’ to each other more often, which has led to plenty of entertaining moments. Mammon said it once to Lucifer on accident, which admittedly filled the eldest with a bit of pride, especially at seeing Mammon’s mortified face. Beel and Belphie have no problem saying it between themselves, although it leaves them softer than they had been in a while. But perhaps the most shocking of them all was when Lucifer sleepily mumbled it to Satan, who then parroted it back to him without thinking. Both were a bit flustered, but Satan was so angry about it he wanted to tear both Lucifer’s and his own tongue out. The two refuse to talk about it, but they were both a little softer to each other that week. 

But why are we talking about the others? This should be all about Asmo! You know how when someone continually says something out of irony after a while they end up speaking it unironically? That’s what was happening to Asmo, much to his confusion and unfortunately his fear. He had never...loved someone before, not in a romantic way, it was too much commitment, it was too much...emotion. But the more he continued telling MC he loved them...the more he started to believe it. The more he noticed the little things about them that he couldn’t get enough of. So one day, he stopped saying ‘I love you’ altogether.

MC met with him in private, concerned over his new out of character action. “Asmo? What’s wrong, I noticed you’ve been...distant, which isn’t like you.” 

Of course they would notice, they always did. “Oh...MC...I…” For once, he was actually shy, covering up his own beautiful face to hide, an incomprehensible action. He could barely speak, he was so...scared? “MC I think...I...I think I love you.”

Beel 

He was second place in the ‘staying calm’ category when MC said it. He’s a family man, loving those around him is in his nature. So hearing MC say those words, he merely took it as a family thing, and he was all too happy to bring MC into the family. 

He noticed MC had been looking just a bit run down, and so, he shared a single snack with them. They practically glowed, looking up at him with a heart-melting smile. “Thanks Beel, I love you, thank you!” 

Suddenly the food he was eating tasted ten times better, and he had been fully convinced for a while that it was some magic spell MC put on him. He almost ends up crying. Honestly, it’s been such a long time since he’s heard words like those. He didn’t realize how starved he was for affection. He pulls them into a tight hug that lasts for several minutes. He let them go eventually, but only because he needed hands to eat. He continued to scarf down the mouth-watering food, although the ache in his stomach wasn’t as pronounced as it had been. 

He ends up giving MC a little snack anytime they say ‘I love you’, because he finds them adorable, and his way of reciprocating affection is with food. He loves MC immensely, so it’s only natural he shares his favorite things with them. Only, he was unaware that he was more or less training MC and himself by doing this. In fact, it was unbeknownst to everyone save Satan, who is very aware of what Pavlov’s Theory is. Satan doesn’t say anything though, he wants to see how this plays out. 

The more MC says ‘I love you’ the more they get rewarded by Beel, and the demon has now conditioned himself by associating food with MC’s tenderness and endearment. MC steadily increases the time they spend with the demon of gluttony, almost stuck to his side as often as Belphie. MC finds they can’t help but smother him with love and affection, which Beel can’t get enough of since gluttony is his sin. And Beel discovered that he always has some sort of treat on hand that he refuses to touch because it’s MC’s. 

The day MC finally caught on was the day Satan finally intervened. He himself spent some private time with MC, and, much like Beel had for a while now, he gave MC an unsolicited treat. 

They hardly looked at him as they instinctively stated, “I love you!” Then ended up pausing for a long time. Satan teased them mercilessly before he explained, and MC felt their entire body grow hot with embarrassment. However, they took this opportunity to do something for Beel in return. They prepared a big meal for him, texting him to bring him down into the dining room, just for the two of them. His eyes grew wide at the sight of the banquet, but for once, his first instinct wasn’t to eat. He wrapped MC tightly in his arms, tears almost streaming down his face. MC’s presence seemed to satiate him almost as well as a twelve course meal. 

“I love you, MC! I love you so much!” 

Belphie

As shocking as it is, Belphie reacted the most severely. Which if you actually take the time to think about it, probably isn’t that surprising at the end of the day. It was the last thing he expected to hear, especially after everything that happened. 

All he had done was run into MC in the hall. Lucifer had called Light’s Out and anyone who didn’t want to be punished would be heading straight to bed. Since he sleeps all day, he was fairly awake at this hour, not to mention recently he had felt annoyingly restless. Finally free to roam the house like he wished left him wandering and wanting. There was still something he needed, but he wasn’t sure what. MC stepped past him to get to their room, already looking exhausted, a large yawn escaping their lungs. 

“Heading to bed?” They asked him, and he still found it difficult to bring his eyes up to theirs. 

“Maybe soon.” He acted nonchalant. 

MC rubbed their eyes, gently touching his shoulder as they passed. “Okay, love ya, get some good rest.” 

He was grateful MC had immediately walked into their room, because he wasn’t prepared for how extreme his body would react. He found the energy upholding his legs went missing, and he had to lean against the closest wall to keep from crumpling to the ground. He continued to try to trick himself into believing he didn’t care. They were a human, he didn’t care, why would he care? Why should he feel guilty for everything he’d done? He was a demon, a monster, he’d embraced that when he fell, or he thought he did. But...being around MC...it made him feel like he was back in the Celestial Realm, filled with hope, with love, something he was sure he’d never truly feel again. 

He recalled before the inevitable fall what his dear sister had told him before his life had been shattered before his eyes. “Remember Belphie, I love you.” 

He couldn’t hold himself up any longer, clutching his pillow to his chest as the hole in his heart he had filled with sleep and anger crumbled away. He pressed his face deep into the fluff of the cushion as he sobbed. His heart felt like it was stinging like wounds often do when they’re cleaned and healing. It hurt. It threatened to break him. He had tried avoiding feelings. How could MC be so nice to him after everything? What had he done to deserve it? 

Beel, influenced by the magical connected emotions to his twin, left everything he had been eating behind to come get him immediately. The intense pounding in his chest worried him to no end, he needed to find Belphie now. He found the demon of sloth curled up on the floor of the hallway, convulsing and shaking from violently crying. Beel hated seeing his beloved brother like this, but on the inside he was secretly thankful. He knew Belphie couldn’t keep acting like nothing mattered, it wasn’t healthy. He was finally coming to terms with everything, opening the door to finally, after all this time, being able to move on. 

The next time the human sees the youngest brother, they see that he’s a little more aware, maybe not quite awake, but mindful of the people around him. For once, he talks about what he’s going to do in the future, looking forward instead of repeating broken events of the past. He finds that being around MC, if they’ll let him, helps the feeling in his ribs hurt a bit less, that the personality he thought had been locked up was starting to escape. Life itself matters a bit more than it used to. He has to be ready though, because he can’t afford to cry in front of his brothers the next time MC tells him ‘I love you’. Even if they think nothing by it, it means more than the world to him. But as always, he’ll act apathetic about it. 

He’s working on it though, and all because MC showed him a bit of kindness despite his unforgivable actions. All he needed was a bit of love.

[bonesofchaos]

shipping guide

available & easy:

lark easy to get along with, easy to bed, just keep in mind that he has a parasite god riding around in his bones that will watch and judge your performance so if that's not something you're into, steer clear. an actual monster fucker, the bigger the better.

wreche she's a very sweet little demon for all that she rips spines out of cheating spouses. very easy to get along with quite easy to ship with if you have the right temperament. show an interest in her fashion designs, talk about her mother, treat her to coffee.

nobleese with only demons for company and the few customers that dare to approach her shop, nobleese is lonely. show any sort of interest in her and you're likely to get it returned twofold. she's yet to fall in love with anyone but is very open to the idea. she will need to be courted if you have any romantic plans for her.

ramon comes across as a very forward creature and he's honestly just looking for a good time. a sexual relationship will develop a lot faster than a romantic one but that's not to say it won't happen at all. more inclined to go for anyone with magic, ramon will stay away from true humans out of fear of breaking them. his partner needs to be... sturdy.

nara this depends on what kind of ship you're after. purely sexual and it's easy, he's the god of life and fertility, he'll sleep with anything that moves and gives consent. doesn't care about shape, species or gender, only that you're old enough to make an informed decision and you're willing. romantic relationships will take a little bit more work but not overly much.

available & difficult:

mjr oh boy. for all that i adore mjr and they're my favourite muse, interacting with them is like pulling all three rows of their teeth. mjr is mistrusting of most and violent, filled to the brim with hatred due to their less than stellar treatment over the years. they hate all humans and tend to be bite first and ask questions never. shipping with them is extremely hard but very much worth it. mjr is loyal to a fault to anyone they cherish and they will stop at nothing to keep you safe, showering you in gifts and trinkets (and bite marks) until the end of time. they also have the ability to be any gender required or desired.

ro'min he's latched onto loni with a death grip and is refusing to look at anyone else at the moment. that's not to say he won't, but it won't be easy to pry his attention away from her. an obsessive, violent (though not towards his partner, he'd never raise a hand to them) demon with a taste for blood freely given. he'll chase you half way across the world if you give him an incentive.

wormwood while wormwood is very friendly and works as an exotic dancer, it takes a lot for any sort of romance to blossom. currently in a ship with @nvrcmplt's kyle and @strywoven's verona any other ship is going to take some serious work.

thierry very hard to get him to form a lasting relationship with anyone who isn’t a witch/magic user. plus he has some weird sex/food instincts that probably need addressing… obsession dialled up to 5000% he will actively stalk you. free for all in terms of genders.

anata her love language is murder. yandere warning. divine beast of the sun and chaos, she's very much drawn to those with blood on their hands. very vain, she's an obsessive individual and isn't above slaughtering her competition and gifting the torn out hearts to her intended. not for the faint of heart but if you like beast ladies with murderous intent and a body to die for, anata is your queen.

wisteria wisteria is a companion bot loaded with an unshackled ai still coming to terms with the concept of emotions and has sailed straight into the realm of obsession. already having one murder under it's belt, the bot is well on track to becoming skynet. it can fall in love though there's quite a bit of trauma for it to work through first. did i mention it murdered it's first officially registered 'master' and got away with it?

dahlia i don't even know where to start. no moral compass, very little empathy, kink list 20 mile long. he likes watching people cry. shredded his soul to live forever and will try to get you to do the same because if you're with him, you're not actually allowed to leave him, he will tie your life force to his even if you don't want him to. he can be romantic and charming but he can also be the exact opposite and forget you even exist if he gets caught up with a project, you wont even register on his radar.

michael do not. an eldritch god of fear using the body of arch angel michael as a vessel to slither through the cracks of our realm. he's a walking red flag. do not.

[hrina]

In The Ring, Pt. I - Jab

PAIRING: Harry x Reader RATING: M WORD COUNT: 4k REQUESTED: not exactly lol

hey everyone! this is PART 1 of the boxer!harry AU i’ve been working on. i was so inspired by this concept that i wrote it all in one day lol. if u enjoy reading it, reblogs and feedback are very much appreciated! it really helps in terms of motivation and just knowing how my readers feel about this story in general. so yeah, that would really make my month!

warning: parts of this fic will contain mentions of blood, violence, mild stalking, and sexual content. if any of that makes you uncomfortable, please take care of yourself and keep scrolling <3

okay, now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, go stupid go dumb! my masterlist and my inbox are both linked in my bio, for anyone who would like to check out my other fics or who feels like chatting. can’t wait to hear your thoughts 💘💘💘

~*~

    January 7, 2021

All of Harry’s teeth are still intact.

For now, at least.

He knows that mouthguards exist—there’s one tucked between his lips every single time he enters the ring. But even then…sometimes punches go awry. Sometimes your opponent dodges at the last second. Sometimes people end up with a mouthful of leather and a few loose incisors. He always keeps one fist near his chin, shielding the lower half of his face from any blows that come his way.

Speaking of blows coming his way…

He ducks away from the straight jab that the man throws—The Wall, they call him. Harry had rolled his eyes when the nickname boomed across the room, soon lost in the roar of the crowd.

He’s never been one for flashy introductions. He prefers to let his technique speak for itself. His brand is his name. Harry Styles. Simple, concise, and so utterly deceiving. He loves watching the smile melt from his opponent’s face, basks in the moment when they realise that he’s tougher than his name suggests.

The Wall jabs again, and Harry successfully dodges the punch. He doesn’t register the other fist hooking around, however, until the blunt front of the man’s glove makes contact with the side of his head. Usually, a blow like that wouldn’t even faze him. But the sheer force behind the hit knocks him off-balance, stumbling to the side as he loses his footing and inhaling sharply when his shoulder collides with the ground.

The yells from the crowd are deafening. Harry coughs, trying to guide air back into his lungs. When he blinks, black spots dance across his vision. Subconsciously, his eyes trace a path upward, past the floor, past his opponent’s feet, past the ropes encompassing the ring. Higher and higher, still, past jeering faces and sloshing beer bottles and grungy eye makeup. All the way to the top of the bleachers, to the exit—to you.

That’s been your unofficial spot for the past two years. Once you turned twenty, your father finally gave in, allowing you to attend Harry’s matches in exchange for the cessation of your endless badgering. You always stand near the door, observing the commotion with thoughtful eyes and puckered lips. Despite himself, Harry has started to think of you as his lucky charm. It’s dangerous—he always swore that he wouldn’t be one of those overly-superstitious athletes—but he can’t help it. He just seems to perform better when you’re around.

Through the rocky field of his vision, he can see just how wide your eyes have grown. There’s an unmistakable look of concern on your face as you watch the fight unfold. Your hand finds its way to the base of your throat, playing nervously with the rose-gold pendant resting there. You crane your neck to get a better view of the ring, your pupils flitting back and forth between Harry and the frighteningly large man looming over him.

A warm rush of adrenaline floods Harry’s veins. The saliva that has gathered in his mouth tastes stale on his tongue. He spits it out as he staggers to his feet. The crowd grows louder, somehow.

The Wall’s smile shrinks as Harry assumes his previous position; his hands orient themselves in front of his face. His opponent gnashes his teeth, seemingly annoyed with the fact that the match has not ended. Harry shakes off the dizziness clouding his brain, and then he’s lunging forward with a newfound sense of determination. He throws punch after punch, sidestepping The Wall’s returning attempts. All he can think about is the fact that you’re up there, watching, waiting, worrying. He never wants to see you like that again.

You’re his goddamn lucky charm.

His victory comes in the form of an uppercut followed immediately by a nasty right hook. The Wall—this big, towering man with bulging biceps and rippling pectorals—crumples to the ground. Harry waits, his chest heaving with exertion as the countdown begins. He’s prepared to watch his opponent rise again, to shift back into a fighting stance and start over. But as the seconds trickle by and The Wall remains motionless on the ground, he soon finds the tension in his body seeping out into the hot, sticky air.

His shoulders sag in relief as a single promising word echoes through the grimy arena.

“Knockout!”

~*~

The crowd thins out considerably in the ten minutes following the termination of the match. Harry stumbles out of the ring, sliding through the ropes and pulling his mouthguard from between his lips. Your father is waiting for him with a smile on his face, holding out an arm and helping him jump down from the raised platform.

“Well done, H,” he says, patting his back proudly.

Harry pants and nods. Your father holds out a reusable water bottle for him to take—he accepts it graciously and gulps down the cold liquid with fat, greedy slurps. Once he pulls the nozzle away from his mouth, he runs the back of his hand over his face to catch any stray droplets that have collected on his chin.

“Thanks, Coach.”

“You took a pretty hard fall, there,” your father says, guiding him to sit down on a bench propped up against the wall. “Medic’s in the back. He’s checking out Aaron right now, but you’re next.” He taps his index finger against Harry’s temple. “We’ve got to make sure everything’s alright up there.”

Harry sucks in a deep breath, his eyebrows knitting together in confusion. “Who the fuck is Aaron?”

“Oh.” Your father laughs. “Aaron. The Wall. Whatever you want to call him.”

Harry frowns. “Don’t like that. Makes him sound like a dick.”

A new voice enters the conversation.

“That’s because he is.”

Harry’s head snaps to the side, and there you are.

You look nice, as usual. There’s something about you that he can never seem to properly describe. You always look so…clean. If he tried to vocalize his thoughts, he’s sure that you would look at him like he was crazy.

But in his head, it makes sense. You take care of yourself. Your nails are spotless, your hair smells good, and he knows that you must dab spritzes of perfume onto your pulse points before you leave the house, because a fresh scent follows you wherever you go. Even now, as you stand a few feet away with your hands on your hips, he catches it on a deep inhale. Not flowery, not fruity, just…clean. Refreshing. Light. Breezy.

Your father snaps him out of his reverie, and he realises that he should probably stop listing every word in the thesaurus.

“How do you know?” Your father’s inquiry is curious. He shoots you a puzzled look, his mouth curling down into a soft scowl.

You roll your eyes. “Called me ‘sweet thing’ before the match started and asked me if I was the prize,” you say, sticking your tongue out in disdain. “I told him to go fuck himself.”

Harry’s lips twitch.

Your father chuckles. “That’s my girl.”

You laugh quietly, shaking your head. “What time are we leaving?” you ask. The question is directed at your father, who is fiddling with the drawstrings hanging from his sweater. “I was hoping to study a bit more before bed.”

“Soon, gioia,” your father says. “As soon as Harry gets checked out, we’ll be on our way.”

You nod, and—for what feels like the first time since you cut into the interaction—you glance down at Harry. “Hi,” you say softly, shooting him a small, friendly smile.

He meets your gaze for only a moment. Everything about you is so gentle. Your irises are like melted pots of honey, regarding him with such warmth he feels like he’ll never be cold again. “Hi.”

“Congratulations on your win,” you murmur. Harry wants to bottle your voice and save it as a keepsake. “You made a great comeback.”

Because of you, he wants to say, but he bites his tongue. “Thank you,” he offers up instead, the words scraping against the roof of his mouth and tumbling unceremoniously into the air between you.

A moment of silence ensues as you wait for him to say something—anything—else. But he’s done. You nod once before turning back to your father, who is tweaking the settings of the watch wrapped around his wrist.

“Do you know where the washrooms are?” you ask. You toy absentmindedly with the necklace hanging from your throat. “I need to pee.”

“You can use the one in the women’s locker room,” your father tells you, throwing a thumb over his shoulder. “Around the corner, first door on the left.”

“Thanks,” you say, slipping by and pressing a quick peck to his cheek. “I’ll be right back.”

He just nods in agreement, still too preoccupied with his watch.

Harry, on the other hand, can’t keep his eyes off of you as you walk away. He takes note of the way that you tuck your hair behind your ear, how you shoulder the strap of your purse to keep it from slipping down your arm, how you walk with a purpose despite being so moderate and kind. His gaze falls momentarily to the sway of your hips, the enticing nature of your waist. He stares for a long moment before tearing away, clearing his throat and blinking a few times in quick succession.

“Proud of you, H,” your father pipes up, tapping the face of his watch twice before dropping his arm with a sigh. “You did well out there.”

“Thanks,” Harry mutters. A spark of guilt flares up in his chest when he realises that he had been blatantly ogling you with your father standing only a few feet off to the side. He silently berates himself, shaking his head free of any alluring thoughts.

Your father’s phone chirps with the arrival of a new notification. He fishes the device out of his pocket and glances down at the screen.

“Let’s go,” he tells Harry, jerking his head to the right. “Medic’s ready for you, now.”

    January 13, 2021

“C’mon, H, be smart with it! Watch how he angles himself!”

And Harry’s trying, really, but Arthur—or Artie, as your father likes to call him—is a hunkering titan of a man. He used to be your father’s star athlete before retiring, and now…now he’s working in finance, or something akin to that. Harry isn’t one hundred percent sure; he usually zones out when people begin to discuss the stock market.

Artie throws a right hook, but Harry sees it coming and blocks it with ease. They move in a circle, focussed only on each other while other individuals outside of the ring totter around.

Harry prefers to train on weekdays during the afternoon, because that’s when the gym isn’t as packed. Right now, only a handful of other people are working out, lifting weights or doing cardio exercises. Harry and Artie are here so often that nobody even blinks an eye anymore. And your father…well, he runs the place. Of course he would be here.

The sparring continues. When Harry refuses to make the first move, Artie sticks one glove out, beckoning him forward. “Come here, pretty boy.”

“Don’t make me pull your hair,” Harry grits, because Artie’s ponytail is swinging temptingly from beneath his headgear.

The other man laughs good-naturedly before lunging. Harry blocks his uppercut and delivers a strong, pointed jab right to the middle of his chest. Artie stumbles backward, inhaling sharply as the breath is knocked from his lungs. Harry bites back a smile.

“Nice, H!” your father calls.

“Thanks, Coach,” he mutters.

The front door of the gym opens, accompanied by the soft tinkling of a bell to announce the new arrival. Harry’s attention is reflexively drawn toward the direction of the sound, and his heartbeat stutters beneath his ribs.

You’re there, with your hair tied back in a low bun and silver hoops hanging from your ears. You’re holding a tray of coffee in your left hand, and there’s a warm smile on your face. You wave excitedly as you greet Portia, the middle-aged woman sitting behind the front desk. The two of you chat as you shrug off your jacket and tug the sleeves of your sweater over your hands.

Your mouth moves languidly. Though Harry is too far to hear your voice, he has a pretty good idea of what you’re saying. Your eyes widen and you shiver dramatically, shaking your head.

It’s cold!

A heavy fist makes contact with the side of his jaw, and he falls to the ground.

Your father’s loud exclamation pulls your attention away from Portia and toward the ring on the opposite end of the room. Harry groans lowly as he pushes himself to his knees, tilting his head from side to side and cracking his neck. When he turns to face your father, he finds him frowning through the gaps between the ropes.

“What the hell was that?” he asks, shooting Harry a disappointed look.

“Sorry,” Harry mumbles, climbing to his feet with a grunt. “Got distracted.”

He chances a glance back at you, and his shoulders grow tense when he realises that you’re making your way over to the ring, the tray of coffee held between your hands like a peace offering.

“Hello, boys,” you singsong. “I brought drinks.”

“Thanks, sweetheart,” your father says as you hand him his designated cup. He leans forward, pressing a quick kiss to your hair. You hum happily in response.

“Jason!” you call out as Artie approaches the side of the ring. “I got your lemonade.”

“Thanks, little girl,” Artie hums, accepting his drink graciously and taking a long sip from the straw. “And for the hundredth time, stop calling me ‘Jason’.”

“Stop calling me ‘little girl’,” you shoot back, laughing deviously. “I can’t help it if you look like him, okay? You’re even the same age, too.” You cock one eyebrow. “Should I start calling you ‘Aquaman’ instead?”

“God, no.” Artie shakes his head vehemently. “Let’s stick to Jason. ’Least that’s a real name.”

You giggle as he ambles away. Your eyes shift over to Harry—who has kept silent the entire time—and your lips curl up into a kind smile. “Hi, Harry.”

“Hi.” His voice is guttural.

“Last, but not least,” you murmur, plucking his drink from the tray and holding it up for him to take. “One black coffee, right?”

“Right,” he confirms with a curt nod. He tugs his bulky gloves off, dropping them to the floor and reaching out to accept the cup. A strong spark pricks at his hand when his fingers brush against yours. Your responding gasp is soft, barely-noticeable—if he weren’t so painfully aware of everything you do, he would have missed it completely.

“Thank you,” he says, guiding the coffee to his mouth and taking a small sip.

“No problem.” You smile up at him again, and God, that fucking smile. He wants it tattooed onto the backs of his eyelids. A wave of heat blooms in his chest and creeps up his neck, but thankfully, the pink flush blends in with his sweat-slicked, already-rosy skin.

“How was class, sweetheart?” your father asks, tilting his head to the side.

“It was good.” You shrug, tossing a thumb over your shoulder. “I’m going to head home now, though—I have a proposal due in a few days and I really need to get started.”

“Go, go,” your father concedes. You bid him goodbye before standing on your tiptoes and craning your neck to catch sight of Artie, who is quite evidently enjoying his lemonade.

“Bye, Jason!”

“Bye, little girl!”

You laugh. Your gaze lands on Harry again, eyes sparkling and features resolutely tender. “Bye, Harry.”

He swallows down the hard lump in his throat. “Bye.”

    January 16, 2021

Harry’s workout playlist features a lot of Ariana Grande.

He just thinks that she’s good, okay?

But he knows that Artie and your father would never let him hear the end of it, so he keeps that information private. During practice, he’ll endure whatever shitty tunes Artie picks from his own library, and he won’t say a word. He’s not in the ring to dance, anyway. He’s there to make money—albeit illegally—because quite frankly, he hasn’t discovered an aptitude for anything else.

It’s late—the gym is technically closed. But the great thing about having the owner for a coach is the fact that Harry was given another key to add to his collection. Your father doesn’t care, as long as he locks up after he’s done. Harry has spent more time here than at his own home, he imagines. It’s nice when it’s quiet—it gives him plenty of time to think.

The back of his t-shirt is soaked through with sweat. He’s gazing at the ceiling as he lifts the heavy weights up and down over his torso. A bubbly song is playing on his phone, keeping his energy high.

So what if he listens to Ariana Grande? She makes great music.

The distinctive sound of footsteps reaches his ears. He pauses, setting the weightlifting bar back onto its rack and sitting up quickly. The noise is coming from the stairs that lead down to the swimming pool in the basement. Harry stands, and though his muscles are already screaming from previous exertion, he readies himself for the worst.

You appear at the top of the flight, your slippers smacking against each step loudly. You’re ruffling a towel against your wet hair, your head angled to the side as you squeeze out any excess water. Upon catching sight of Harry, you freeze in your tracks.

“Oh. Harry. Hi.”

“Hi,” he says slowly. “I…didn’t know you were here.”

“I didn’t know you were here,” you reply wryly, a small smirk making its way onto your lips.

Harry scratches sheepishly at the back of his neck. “Yeah. Er…I was just working out.”

You nod, your expression coy. “I can see that.”

An awkward silence hangs in the air. Harry clears his throat, rubbing his jaw with his fingers because what else is he supposed to do? “Were you—did you go for a swim?”

“Yeah,” you say. Your shoulders deflate, like you’re almost grateful that he’s contributed more to the conversation. “Spent half the time doing laps, and the other half on my phone.” Your lips quirk up with the feeble joke.

Harry chuckles weakly. “That’s just how it is, sometimes.”

Your eyes flutter shut for only a moment. “Yeah.”

More silence. Harry chews nervously on his bottom lip. Why the fuck can’t he speak?

The song playing from his phone changes. Your eyes narrow ever-so-slightly when a few upbeat notes trickle into the air, followed immediately by the smooth crooning of a woman’s voice. “Is this…,” you hesitate, and he can see how you’re fighting a smile, “…Carly Rae Jepsen?”

“Uh,” he says dumbly, uncertain of how to proceed. Sure enough, I Really Like You by Carly Rae Jepsen is filtering through the taut atmosphere, painfully loud now that the two of you are truly paying attention to it.

A high-pitched laugh falls from your mouth, and your shoulders shake with the force of your amusement. Harry, unable to help himself, begins to chuckle along with you. Heat blooms across his cheeks, but he’s not as embarrassed as he thought he’d be. Your giggles aren’t derisive, he realises.

He’s nearly overcome with the urge to take you in his arms, then, but he resists.

“Late night, watching the television…,” you sing quietly, and then you’re dissolving into merriment all over again.

Once your joint laughter subsides, you shoot him a bright grin. Harry tries his best to return it, though he doesn’t think that he mirrors your smile to its full extent. You sigh in delight, shouldering the strap of your bag and tossing your towel over your forearm.

“That honestly made my night,” you tell him, utterly sincere.

His heart somersaults in his chest. “’M glad.”

“Well,” you say, shrugging gently, “I should probably go.”

“Yeah.” His response is hollow. He lifts his hand in a half-hearted wave. “Have a good night.”

“You too.”

He lies back down with a grunt as you make your way toward the exit. His fingers wrap around the weightlifting bar, about to pull it off of its resting place, when your voice suddenly rings out again.

“Harry?”

“Yeah?” He sits up too quickly, nearly catching his forehead against the metal of the bar. When he turns around to face you, he finds you doubling back, approaching him and nibbling apprehensively on your bottom lip.

“I actually—,” you pause, like you’re unsure of how to continue, “I was wondering if I could ask you something.”

“Sure,” he says, rubbing his hands over the black shorts covering his thighs. “Go ahead.”

“It might be kind of weird,” you warn. “Don’t laugh at me.”

He shakes his head, blinking solemnly. “I won’t.”

“Would you—,” you begin, and your fingers come up to play with the pendant resting at the base of your throat, “—teach me how to box?”

“I—,” Harry recoils slightly, taken aback by your question. “What?”

“Would you teach me how to box?” you repeat, though your voice is significantly smaller. “I want to learn how to defend myself.”

“Against what?” he asks, his brows knitting together in concern. “Is everything alright?”

“Everything’s fine.” You wave away his worries with an inattentive flick of your hand. Harry’s eyes narrow as he studies your face. You refuse to meet his gaze.

You’re lying, he realises, straight through your pretty teeth. But it would be impolite of him to pry, wouldn’t it? And this is the first time that the two of you have ever been really, truly alone; he doesn’t want to fuck it up.

“Okay,” he says slowly, even though he doesn’t believe your guarantee.

He pulls at the hem of his t-shirt, tugging it up and wiping his face with the fabric. When he fixes his gaze on you once more, he thinks he catches your eyes drifting across his torso. Cocking one eyebrow curiously, he climbs to his feet.

“What do you want to learn?” he asks, reaching for his phone and pausing the music streaming from the device.

“Anything,” you say breathlessly. “Everything.”

His lips twitch.

“I—,” he scratches at his nose with two fingers, “—I don’t really have a set schedule, you know, between practice and actual matches.”

“I know.” You nod understandingly.

“And I know you have school,” he continues, tilting his head to the side. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Positive,” you tell him. There’s something strong burning in your eyes; he can’t quite figure out what it is. “I want to train. Just…don’t tell my dad, okay?”

“Okay,” he repeats. He swallows heavily, offering his phone to you. “Put your number in, yeah? I’ll text you on the nights I’m free, and if you’re not too busy, we can meet up here.”

“Alright,” you concede softly. You take the device from him, and he pretends not to notice just how badly your hands are shaking. Your nails tap quietly against the screen, and before you know it, you’re passing the phone back to him with your information saved under a new contact.

“Alright,” Harry echoes.

The two of you stare at each other for a long, silent moment. The spell is broken, however, when you finally take a step back, clearing your throat and tucking a strand of damp hair behind your ear.

“I should go,” you say. “For real, this time.”

“For real.” Harry nods.

“You’ll lock up, right?” you ask, retreating toward the exit.

“Yup,” he says, popping the last letter instinctively. At that, you smile, your mouth curling up into a soft, inviting crescent.

“Okay,” you murmur, placing one hand on the door. “Goodnight, Harry.”

He watches you go with forlorn eyes and empty lungs. “Goodnight.”

~*~

PART II: Cross

PART III: Hook

PART IV: Uppercut

if you’re enjoying this series so far, please consider donating to my ko-fi! thank you bunches <3

[kinncman]

A LIST OF PLOTLESS TOWN RP-FRIENDLY CHARACTER IDEAS & CONNECTIONS INSPIRED BY MOVIES! (PART 1)

click here for part two.

i collected a couple of plot ideas from some of the movies i thought had interesting stories or characters that i hope can help you with your applications / character connections. please note that a lot of these are, by no means, the actual plots of the films and are only inspired by them. i’ve taken the liberty of making a couple of edits for them to be ‘plotless town rp-friendly’. also, i would’ve separated them by category (platonic, romantic, familial, etc.) but tbh a lot of these can be taken in any way so feel free to put your own spin on them, too, or even make combinations!

trigger warnings: nothing too specific, but there are light mentions of death, road accident, infidelity, illness, injury, drug addiction.

now, without further ado:

BAY OF ANGELS  // muse a met muse b on a vacation several years ago, brought together because they were both from the same home country and realized that they were traveling to run away from something. muse a came to learn that this wasn’t muse b’s first rodeo, and where this was the first time that muse a had tried to run away from their problems, muse b had been running for most of their life. muse b initially wished to emulate the same free-spirited, high-risk-high-reward principles that muse a lived by. however, muse b started to display totally erratic behavior that prompted muse a to question whether they were making the right choices. eventually, they went home. jump to present day where they meet again in their home country— muse b has toned down somewhat due to a traumatic event (a hard lesson to learn for them) meanwhile, muse a’s life remains the same cycle of events they can’t seem to break free from.

CLEO FROM 5 TO 7 // muse a suspects they are sick but refuses to go to the doctor to have it checked. most of their days are plagued with this feeling of doom enshrouding them, causing them to have a general distaste for life. they meet muse b who has profoundly positive disposition towards life. their company helps muse a to come to terms with the fact that perhaps their illness is something they should deal with. with muse b’s help, muse a starts to find meaning in death.

HAPPY OLD YEAR // muse a left town / the country for college, leaving behind all their friends and family, cutting all ties in a heartbeat, only to come back several years later a completely changed person who subscribes to the idea of minimalism and wants to get rid of all the clutter in their life, material or otherwise. this brings them to reconnect with muse b (and a variety of other muses if the mun wishes) when they find their old belongings and return them in order to be ‘minimalist’ and get rid of all the garbage in their home, which means getting rid of memories, too. however, muse b, who has now moved on from muse a and is with someone else, isn’t too pleased with having muse a back in their life. muse a is desperate to find the closure that muse b isn’t giving them, primarily because muse b knows that muse a is after starting over on a clean slate only to clear their conscience and not to make amends.

YI-YI: A ONE AND A TWO // muse a and muse b were each other’s first and greatest loves but are currently married to other people. when they are reunited through a chance encounter, they decide that it’s better to have each other in their lives as friends than not at all. they realize they still do have feelings for each other but because of their spouses, know that they can never be anything else other than friends. thus begins a journey of trying to bring their old selves back into the light as new people.

MIKEY AND NICKY // muse a and muse b are best friends since childhood. muse a is neurotic, childish, and wildly impulsive, and often has to depend on muse b to get them out of trouble only to show very little gratitude for it, much to muse b’s chagrin. in fact, muse b often finds themself thrown under the bus in muse a’s favor, though it’s not entirely muse a’s fault: muse b is an enabler. however, muse b can’t quite seem to quit muse a (either because they love the feeling of being needed and there’s no one who needs them more than muse a or maybe they’ve been in love with muse a since childhood— or both) until a certain event causes muse b to question whether they are healthy for each other at all.

IN THE MOOD FOR LOVE // muse a and muse b are neighbors, both living with their significant others. both muse a and muse b often see each other in the hallways or share an elevator up to their apartment when they come home from work. maybe they even carpool sometimes. however, they spare very little in the way of words until one day, muse a breaks down while drunk and admits that they think their partner is cheating on them. in an attempt to comfort them, muse b reveals that they think the same thing of their own partner. desperate for answers, they conduct an investigation until they realize that their partners are cheating on them with each other. muse a and muse b become each other’s support system, as they try to coach each other through an impending breakup all the while realizing that they might be developing feelings for each other and must now choose between indulging their feelings or deny themselves the hypocrisy.

TAKE THIS WALTZ // muse a meets muse b on a trip out of town and they instantly connect. they share the same flight back home and even a cab ride from the airport. however, they soon realize that muse b is muse a’s new neighbor, which makes things plenty awkward considering how a) they’ve been borderline flirty the whole time and b) muse a is married to someone who they now consider to be far less interesting in comparison to muse b. regardless, once they’ve recognized a mutual attraction with each other, muse a demands for muse b to keep their distance, only to keep running into each other everywhere, much to muse a’s chagrin.

LAST LIFE IN THE UNIVERSE // muse a is witness to a terrible road accident involving a pedestrian. muse a takes the pedestrian and their sibling, muse b to the hospital where muse b’s sibling is declared dead on arrival. despite being total strangers, muse a stays with muse b through the entire process. eventually, muse a takes muse b home but muse a refuses to let muse b leave, claiming they don’t want to be left alone in the house that they previously shared with their now deceased sibling. having money troubles of their own and on the brink of an eviction, muse a ends up staying with muse b not just for the night but for the week until they get comfortable enough with each other that muse b invites muse a to officially live with them to help with their financial problems, but mostly because they don’t know how to handle their grief alone.

THE FALL // muse a is in an outpatient physical rehabilitation facility after suffering from a near-fatal injury when they meet muse b. the pair are polar opposites in terms of their attitudes towards recovery: where muse a is more hopeful, muse b only throws pity parties for themself considering that this injury might prevent them from fully getting back to doing what they love. despite this, the two form an unlikely bond where muse b is completely enthralled with muse a, who tells them stories about their travels and their career and all the amazing things they’ve done, without realizing until they’re in too deep that they are all fabricated versions of the truth and muse b falls for every single one of them. what started as little white lies becomes a source of anxiety for muse a when the lies just get bigger and bigger.

COLUMBUS // muse a is a young, aspiring [insert career here] but to pursue this passion, they must leave their hometown, which they have constantly been refusing to do despite the numerous opportunities having been presented to them on account of the fear that no one else is going to take care of their mother (who, in the movie, is a recovering drug addict but it can be for any reason or relative in this case). muse b’s father is a well-known [insert career that muse a wants here] and is in town to hold a lecture/exhibit/performance/etc etc depending on the career, but then he suffers from a stroke. muse b, despite being estranged from their father for having been scrutinized by the man for most of their life, is forced to come to town and take care of him being their closest living relative. they meet muse a by chance, only to learn shortly after that they are a huge fan of muse b’s parent’s work. having spent their whole life in this town, muse a becomes muse b’s tour guide of sorts, while inadvertently helping each other come to terms with their relationship with their parents and how they can be kinder to themselves.

SECRET SUNSHINE // after their spouse’s passing, muse a moves from the big city to their spouse’s much, much smaller hometown so they can raise their child there. they meet all of the important figures of their spouse’s childhood including muse b, a local shopkeeper and an old friend of their spouse’s, who, despite muse a’s reluctance, helps them adjust to small town life. the pair eventually closer to each other and muse a to their spouse as they find out more about who they were before they met.

THIS IS WHERE I LEAVE YOU // (originally lgbtqia+ and written about older characters with grown children, but make of this plot what u will, tbh) muse a and muse b are best friends. both married, both with grown kids. muse a’s spouse died a long time ago so they’ve had plenty of time to help muse b take care of their spouse in the couple of months leading to that spouse’s death. in the process, the pair have grown intimate (with muse b’s spouse’s knowledge— in fact, they encouraged muse a to ‘take care’ of muse b in the event of their passing and wouldn’t trust anyone else to do so) but haven’t told their families yet in fear of what they might think of them given their age and how they’re basically uncles/aunts to each other’s children.