#and sure i could audition again next year
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lixiesbabyhands · 4 months ago
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yall i just bombed an audition so fucking bad no one talk to me
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orcelito · 19 days ago
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Oh yeah, I forgot to mention it here hfkshfks
So when I was tuning the violins today. Well it was the first time I'd done anything with them in a while. And tbh I should've loosened the strings before leaving them for so long, but I hadn't thought of it.
So I tuned up my main violin. It's always been easy to tune & keeps in tune near perfectly when it's played regularly. So it went by quickly, except... when I'm tuning, I like to check the harmonic notes when cross-checking strings, and for whatever reason, the G string's harmonic was like half a note flat. The string itself was in tune tho, which was weird. So I went to adjust the bridge a little bit, just in case that might help, and then the G string fucking SNAPPED!!!
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RIP lmao
Good for me tho I've always kept spares in my case. I had 2 of each string, so I just went and put in the new one. First time stringing a violin in years and years, but it went perfectly fine!!
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Back and better than ever!
Then I went to tune my electric violin, and it took me literally 10 minutes bc the pegs DID NOT want to turn. I had to literally grab a blanket to pad my fingers as I put my whole self into that shit. It hurt !!!!! But I got it eventually lol. My main violin is definitely the best one for playing out of the bunch.
#speculation nation#i played my electric violin more than i ever have today.#didnt actually play my main violin like i first intended. bc it was getting late and i felt. bad.#so i played the electric violin. it worked! but i find myself missing my darling#i should try to practice at least a few more times before next semester. to make sure im prepared for returning to orchestra#(which isnt THAT an exciting prospect. take THAT my reoccurring dreams born from orchestra longing)#i actually picked it back up surprisingly well. outside of the um. stiff wrist and finger pains.#my wrist will loosen back up in time. thats the main reason i want to practice some more b4 next semester.#that plus my finger endurance. i still have pretty great dexterity. like it just felt really natural.#but my fingers got tired quicker than they used to and the SKIN. my CALLOUSES. are NOT THERE.#gonna wait until my fingers r recovered before i try taking my violin out again tho#also my wrist is a lil sore. i was demanding a lot from it today too.#not as flexible as it is when im actively playing but i actually managed to overcome it fine.#did my shifting and whatever. vibrato. whatever. really the worst part of the wrist stiffness is the finger positioning.#instead of being straight down on the strings my fingers had a bit of a turn to them#so the sides of the tips are sore now. owie. but oh well i made it work.#certainly wasnt my best playing but i did the best i could considering the circumstances.#in retrospect picking violin back up after Years and practicing and (re)learning a whole song to audition that SAME DAY is kind of insane.#whyd i do this to myself. oh yeah cause im stupid. oh well at least im following my heart.#i hope i hear back from the orchestra professor before too long. now that ive done the rehearsal im like. oughhh. yknow?#we will hope that friday night was good enough to count as 'by the end of the week'. we will hope.
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c0rpsedemon · 2 years ago
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something abt realizing you're listening to someone sing for the last time really hits in an awful way
#so there's this girl who's a year above me and to say that she's good at singing is an understatement. if the goddess of song#herself were to appear in front of me or anyone who's ever heard a note come from her mouth and asked which one was more talented the only#appropriate answer would be that the goddess pales in comparison. i first heard her voice at the auditions for our middle school musical in#the sixth grade and i've been in shock and awe ever since. it's in the name of her voice that i decided i wanted to learn how to write musi#bc i cannot sing but wanted nothing more than some sort of reason to stand next to her. and by some twist of fate. i took music theory last#semester and guess who ended up sitting directly next to me. and who i also said no more than maybe 5-10 words to the entire time. . whoops#in my (and her) defense. it's not like she's unapproachable or anything. she's one of the genuinely kindest people i've ever encountered bu#the problem is. it's a music theory class. i was the only one in it not affiliated w the music department. and everyone in it had known eac#other for 4-7 years. even my like. actual friend in the class was ignoring me a lil (he wasn't he was just hanging out w his closer friends#and so i kept to myself the entire semester bc i didn't want to feel like i was intruding on anything + am terminally shy#(like. to the point where i get physically ill bc of it)#flash forward to today in ap world w our song parody project. our teacher was showing past examples from previous classes and guess who too#the class last year. and ofc. you Do Not get [name redacted] working on a project w/out having her sing for you#her group made a stalin-themed mr sandman parody and our teacher paused the video halfway through and it was my own personal 9/11#bc there's no good reason for our paths to ever cross again. unless she becomes some celebrity. which i have no doubt she could if merit wa#the only factor at play there. i will never hear her voice again and i'm not sure what i'm going to do abt that.#romeo.txt
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creepyscritches · 6 days ago
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I read your post about open enrollment for the ACA and was hoping you might expand on why you believe it would take years to dismantle. I've been terrified that with a Republican house/senate, Trump could just snap his fingers and make it go away within months of taking office. I'd love some reassurance that that's not possible.
Hiya, sure I can share some thoughts on the matter! First, it's very important to understand the ACA is a huuuuuuuuuuuuge system with subject matter experts in dozens of places throughout the process. I'm one of those SMEs, but I am at the end of the process where the revenue is generated, so my insight is limited on the public facing pieces.
What this means is that I am professionally embedded in the ACA in a position that exists purely to show what conditions people are treated for and then generate that data into what's called a "risk score". There's about 6 pages I could write on it, but the takeaway is that the ACA is
1) intricately interwoven with the federal government
2) increasingly profitable, sustainable, and growing (it is STILL a for-profit system if you can believe it)
3) wholeheartedly invested in by the largest insurance companies in the country LARGELY due to the fact that they finally learned the rules of how to make the ACA a thriving center of business
4) since the big issuers are arm+leg invested in the ACA, there is a lot of resistance politically and on an industry level to leave it behind (think of the lobbyists, politicians, corporations that will fight tooth and nail to protect their profit + investment)
The process to calculate a risk score takes roughly 2 years. There is an audit for the concurrent year and then a vigorous retro audit for the prev year - - this is a rolling cycle every year. Medicare has a similar process. These are RVP + RADV audits if you would like the jargon.
Eliminating the ACA abruptly is as internally laughable as us finishing the RADV audit ahead of schedule. If Trump were to blow the ACA into smithereens on day 1, he would be drowning in issuer complaints and an economic health sector that is essentially bleeding out. You cut off the RVP early? We have half of next RADV stuck in the gears now. You cut off the RADV early? No issuer will get their "risk adjusted" payments for services rendered in the prev benefit year (to an extent, again very complex multi-process system).
The ACA is GREAT for the public and should be defended on that basis alone. However, the inner capitalistic nature of the ACA is a powerful armor that has conservatives + liberals defending it on a basis of capital + market growth. It's not sexy, but it makes too much money consistently for the system to be easily dismantled.
Or at least that's what I can tell you from the money center of the ACA. they don't bring us up in political conversation because we are confusing to seasoned professionals, boring to industry outsiders, and consistently we are anathema to the anti-ACA talking points.
I am already preparing for next year's RVP for this window of open enrollment. That RVP process will feed into the RADV in 2026. In 2025, we begin the RADV for 2024. If nothing else, the slow fucking gears of CMS will keep the ACA alive until we finish our work at the end of the process. I highly doubt that will be the only reason the ACA is safeguarded, but it is a powerful type of support to pair with people protecting the ACA for other reasons.
I work every day to show, defend, and educate on how many diagnoses are managed thru my company's ACA plans. My specialty is cancer and I see a lot of it. The revenue drive comes from the Medical Loss Ratio (MLR) rule stating only 20% MAX of profit may go to the issuer + the 80% at a minimum must go back to the customer or be invested in expanding benefits. The more people on the plan using it, the higher that 20% becomes for the issuer and the more impactful that 80% becomes for the next year of benefit growth. It is remarkably profitable once issuers stop seeking out "healthy populations". The ACA is a functional method for issuers to tap into a stable customer base (sick/chronic ill customers) that turns a profit, grows, and builds strong consumer bases in each state.
The industry can never walk away from this overnight - - this is the preferred investment for many big players. Changing the direction of those businesses will be a monumental effort that takes years (at least 2 with the audits). In the meantime, you still have benefits, you still have care, and you still have reason to sign up. Let us deal with the bureaucracy bullshit, go get your care and know you have benefits thru 2025 and we will be working to keep it that way for 2026 and forward. This is a wing of the federal government, it is not a jenga tower like Trump wishes.
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steddieas-shegoes · 8 months ago
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Steve grows up playing piano, absolutely hates it, but is so good at it. His parents aren’t around enough by the time he’s a teen to force him to his practices, so he slowly stops going.
His music teacher happens to be Robin’s mom, who studied at Juilliard, and traveled for nearly a decade with various orchestras and bands before settling down with her husband in Hawkins.
She can see what’s going on with Steve from day one, but knows better than to interfere.
Until he quits.
She can’t stand by and let someone so musically gifted give it up.
She shows up at his house with a violin, her own violin that she hadn’t used in years.
He’s hesitant at first, but decides to give it a try as long as she doesn’t tell his parents. The last thing he wants is for them to find out he picked up a new instrument.
She can’t give him official lessons, so she shows up to his house twice a week and hopes that he practices in his own time.
He’s a natural.
He takes to it like a duck to water.
She encourages him to perform in a local talent show, all kids under 18, most of them not half as talented as he is.
He only agrees when she says she’ll be front row.
And sure enough, for once in his life, someone shows up when they say they will. She’s sitting front row with her husband on one side and her daughter on the other. She smiles as he takes the stage, nervous about people who know him seeing him and reporting back to his parents.
He performs with heart, something he lacked with the piano. He performs with talent, something he may have with any instrument he picks up.
But most importantly, he plays with a smile. He’s having fun.
He sticks around to watch some of the other people performing: Tammy Thompson singing a very out of tune rendition of America The Beautiful, some kid from one of his classes playing piano miserably, and some band performing very loud, very angry music.
Steve wins, and for once, it feels better than when he wins at a swim meet or basketball game.
He spends the next three years secretly practicing, only performing in shows out of town, never saying anything to his parents.
He doesn’t want them to ruin this for him.
He applies to Juilliard, not thinking he has a chance in hell, not with his academic grades.
Luckily, they see that he’s “exceptional with the strings” and “plays with emotion that can’t be trained.”
He gets in.
He goes.
He thinks he may actually be able to do this, use a gift he has to make his life better.
His parents even find it acceptable, mostly because he got into the best school he could have. They still don’t bother showing up for his shows, but Mrs. Buckley always finds a way.
In his sophomore year, Robin gets in, and they both move into a small apartment off campus together. He promised to look out for her.
She tells him that music wasn’t really her passion, she was just good with a trumpet. She really wanted to be an engineer.
In his junior year, Robin transfers to Columbia, starts doing what she really wanted to do from the start. He’s proud of her, but misses having someone on campus during the day to have lunch with.
Until he stumbles, literally, into someone vaguely familiar.
“Sorry, man. Running late.”
Steve pats the man on the shoulder and turns to get to his class when the man stops him.
“Harrington? You’re a student here?”
He turns back and finally recognizes the man in front of him.
“Munson? When did you get here?”
“I got in this year. Kinda fucked up my first audition last year and they were kind enough to give me another shot.” Eddie smiled. “What on earth are you here for?”
“Violin. You?”
“Guitar and songwriting.”
“That’s great, man. I’m just really running late. Catch up soon?”
Soon was two weeks later, when Steve ran into Eddie again while leaving class.
“We should probably stop running into each other like this,” Eddie smirked. “The universe is trying to tell us something.”
“What’s it trying to tell us?”
“Not sure. Maybe we should go grab dinner and find out.”
“Now?”
“Why not? Got better plans?”
Steve thought about how Robin was barely at the apartment due to studying for midterms. He thought about how his only other friend from here was busy rehearsing for their senior showcase.
“Nah. Let me bring this home first,” he held up his violin case. “Actually.”
Steve was on a budget. His parents gave him money, sure, but they thought he was living on campus so the money they sent covered rent and groceries and nothing else.
“I could make dinner. If you want?”
“Steve Harrington cooks? And plays violin?” Eddie fake swooned. “Be still my beating heart. How will I not be seduced?”
Steve rolled his eyes. He remembered Eddie’s dramatics from school and knew better than to feed into them.
“I can make some spaghetti. Nothing fancy.”
“Spaghetti sounds great,” Eddie’s fake swoon turned to a soft smile. “You want some help?”
Steve didn’t need help, usually didn’t even want any.
But something about the way his stomach dipped when Eddie stepped closer, and the way he thought about having Eddie in his apartment, made him agree.
“Sure.”
They walked to Steve’s apartment in a comfortable silence, though Eddie kept tapping the back of his fingers against Steve’s hand.
Eddie fit next to Steve. They cooked together, they ate together, they even managed to clean up together. It was easy to find something to talk about. He’d never clicked with anyone like this, not even Robin.
By the time Robin came home, Steve and Eddie were both passed out on the couch, fingers laced together as if they hadn’t been brave enough to do anything more before they fell asleep.
By morning, Steve’s head was on Eddie’s shoulder, Eddie’s arm wrapped around him loosely.
Waking up to a soft kiss on his lips was something Steve couldn’t have imagined when he first ran into Eddie, but he was pretty glad it was how he started his day.
And almost every day after that, whether he woke up to a kiss, or met up with Eddie on campus for a kiss, he started his day with love on his lips.
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harrysfolklore · 8 months ago
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Harry Styles Answers the Web's Most Searched Questions | WIRED
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this was posted on my patreon a few months ago, enjoy ! MASTERLIST | MY PATREON
"Hi I'm Harry Styles and this is the Wired Autocomplete Interview."
Harry introduced himself to the camera and you smiled, you were currently at WIRED Studios for Harry's long awaited autocomplete interview that he finally agreed to do thanks to yours and his fans persistence.
You were sitting behind the camera with the rest of the crew, watching him with a small smile.
A crew member passed the first board to him, he looked at it confusedly for a minute before speaking.
"Okay so. I'm answering what I think or what?"
Everyone in the studio laughed and the director quickly explained to him how the game worked once again, you rolled your eyes with affection and he sent a wink your way.
"Alright, how is Harry Styles?" he said after taking the little piece of paper off the board, "I'm good, I'm really enjoying being home in London, I was away for a while on tour and I'm going to stay here for a bit so that's exciting."
"How did Harry Styles," he paused to rip the next paper and reveal the rest of the question, "Become famous? Well, when I was sixteen years old I auditioned for a singing show called The X Factor, I got put in a band with four lads and we didn't win but we put out a song called What Makes You Beautiful," he smiled for a second, "that one put us on the map, we released a bunch of albums and now I'm here."
"How did Harry Styles meet his wife?" at this, he turned his gaze to you to give you a big smile, you immediately mirrored his and nodded your head, signaling that you were okay with him talking about it.
"We could say that it was basically a blind date, we had a friend in common who thought we would be a good match and set us up, we had an amazing first date but then I had to travel to Los Angeles for work so we couldn't really see each other after that but once I was back in London we hung out all the time, and now we're married."
He smiled at you again and you couldn't help but feel your heart melt, you had been married for 6 months now but the married life was still new for the both of you, and everything he called you his wife butterflies made its way to your stomach.
"How is Harry Styles still alive?" his eyes widened in surprise and he looked around the room, making a few present laugh, "Um, that's a weird thing to search on the internet, but I guess, I don't know if I can answer that, I don't think anyone can answer that we're just lucky to still be around and enjoy life."
He gave the camera one of his infamous "frog smiles" and handed the board to a crew member who was ready with the next one.
"Does Harry Styles have tattoos?" he revealed the first question of the new board, "Yes, he does. I have a lot of tattoos actually, they're basically all over my body. The most recent one is right here," he pointed at the back of his right arm, "It's my wedding date, actually, everyone might call me a sap but I was reserving this arm for tattoos about my wife a and future kids, so I guess it's finally time to fill it."
It was safe to say that  fans watching at home and everyone in the studio absolutely melted, especially you.
"Does Harry Styles have siblings? I do I have a sister, she's older than me and her name is Gemma. A lot of people claim she's cooler than me for some reason but I don't thing that's true," he shrugged and revealed the next question, "Does Harry Styles speak Italian? I would like to think that I do, I spend a lot of time there and I've learned how to communicate pretty decently."
"Is Harry Styles an actor?" he said after peeling the first sticker of the new board, "He tries to be an actor that's for sure," he laughed and everyone in the room did as well, "I mean, I've been in a couple of movies, I've auditioned for a bunch of roles and my agent has sent me scripts to go through," he shrugged "So I can say that makes me an actor."
"Is Harry Styles american?" he shook his head at that one, "He is not! He's Britain, born and raised okay? He's very proud of it."
"What's Harry Styles BeReal? I don't have a BeReal, but if I did I wouldn't tell you," he pointed to the camera jokingly, "What are Harry Styles fans called? I think they are referred to as Harries, but I don't like to speak on behalf of them, you should ask them."
"What was Harry Styles first song? My first song was Sign Of The Times, I wrote it with friends that I love, and that is my wife's favorite song I've ever written, right love?"
"That's correct." you said from your spot, pretty audible so you know it would make it to the final cut of the interview.
"What are Harry Styles songs about?" he peeled the last sticker of the board, "They're about a lot of things, life, friends, love, my wife," he shrugged, "I even have one about the female orgasm."
You quietly giggled, knowing that his fans would go crazy over that last sentence.
"Did Harry Styles go to college? He did not, he became a singer."
"Did Harry Styles win a Grammy? He somehow won Album Of The Year last year, which is absolutely insane if you ask him."
"Did Harry Styles finish high school? Oh I'm glad the internet asks," he laughed, "Contrary to popular belief I did finish high school, I completed my GCES and I graduated, I don't know why there's a rumor there that I didn't finish high school tho."
"Anyway, last one!" he comically threw the board to the floor and grabbed the final board a crew member was handling him, "Who is Harry Styles best friend? Um, I have a ton of best friends. Jeff who's also my manager, Mitch who plays in my band, my childhood best friend's name is Johnny, so yeah, I'm very lucky in the friends department, I love my friends."
"Who does Harry Styles look like? My mom, I would say. A lot of people point out that we have the same smile," he shrugged, "My mom is a beautiful woman so I'm flattered."
"Who did Harry Styles write Love Of My Life about? My wife and London."
"And final question," he slowly peeled off the sticker for dramatic effect, "Who does Harry Styles love? Okay, that's cute that people search for that on the internet, um, I love my family and friends, I love my wife that's for sure, I love making music and performing," he listed with his fingers, "And love love, yeah, love is great."
He smiled to the camera and put the board aside to say his goodbyes.
"I thought my Google searches were much more appropriate that I expected. I was fun to see what people wonder about me, so yeah thank you WIRED for having me."
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cobaltperun · 4 months ago
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Eternal Flame - Runaway Train
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Cover by @ortegalvr
Jenna Ortega x female Reader
Summary: For her it’s a passion, for you it’s an accident. And as she continues shining brighter and brighter with each role you are left mesmerized, drawn to her flame and cherishing every time she lets herself be vulnerable with you.
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Masterlist / Next part
Word count: 6.2k
-You were there like a slow torch burning, I was a key that could use a little turning-
“The world still sucks!” the shout woke you up, but your doors being slammed open made you jump to your feet from the couch. Somehow even in your confused state you managed to recognize the voice of your best friend and self-appointed back-up manager for your career that would soon be restarted. At least according to Barbara, the same girl that just burst through your front door like she owned the place.
“So does your ability to knock,” you complained, reaching up to fix your bed hair, just fixing whatever you could with your fingers. You ended up falling asleep on the couch while reading through some scripts Barbara managed to get for you. Asshole. Sending e-mails in your name.
You didn’t have to look at her to know she just rolled her eyes and sat down on your couch. Flipping through the script parts you received. “Don’t pretend you’re getting something from the kitchen!” she called you out on your habit the moment you went toward the kitchen, and you winced, sometimes hating how well she knew you. You still poured yourself a glass of apple juice. “At least bring me a glass too,” you winced again at that.
“If you can barge into my apartment, you can get it yourself,” you grumbled, still feeling sleepy. You should have made a coffee, or tea, or something that would wake you up. You went back to the couch and sat down next to Barbara, smirking slightly as she tried her best to glare at you. You even made a show out of slowly sipping on the apple juice, just to see her pout.
“Mean,” she complained and looked away. You had to admit it was a cute pout. Barbara was beautiful, you were more than aware of that. A bit above average in height, just over 5 foot 6, she had a beautiful face, striking blue eyes, and blonde hair as straight as she was, which was a 100%, not a single atom in her body was attracted to anyone that wasn’t a man.
“You love it, babe,” you still teased one another every now and then. Even if she wasn’t straight there was no way you could ever see her as anything but your best friend. The teasing was just there for light-hearted fun.
Barbara hummed and suddenly tried to grab your glass, only for you to lift it out of her reach. “You have no heart,” she sighed and gave up on drinking the apple juice unless she got up, and you knew her pride wouldn’t let her do it. “Did anything catch your eye?” she asked, pointing a finger at the scripts.
“I dunno. How did you even get this many scripts?” there were four scripts in total. There was one for psychological thriller that would require you to go to Italy, one for a superhero movie, one for a reboot of the Scream franchise and finally for a pilot episode for TV drama.
Barbara shrugged and patted you on the back. “The comeback of a child star that won several awards and was nominated for a bunch for her first and only role? You’d be surprised how effective that pitch is,” she laughed as you facepalmed.
“You… I’m not even going to say anything,” you sighed, glancing through the window. You weren’t sure how it happened, you just auditioned because it seemed fun and Barbara dared you to do it, and then you ended up getting the role, got the taste of the industry, the work and dedication it took and just figured you didn’t want to spend your childhood like that. But now, close to turning twenty, you figured you might give it a shot again. Even if you were still a bit reluctant to go back to that world.
It wasn’t the work, you could do it now. But now that it’s been several years since your movie came out in 2017 and even more years since you filmed it back in 2013 and 2014, you found it difficult to motivate yourself to give it a shot. After all, how do you follow the success of it?
You didn’t notice Barbara’s eyes softening. “You worry too much,” she pointed out nudged you lightly.
You couldn’t help but smile at that. “Yeah,” you went and picked up the script for Scream. “I think this should be fun, though going to Italy could be fun as well, and it’s a good story, dark, but good,” you narrowed it down to two choices and took your phone. You had some calls to make. Not before you went and brought a glass of apple juice for Barbara though.
~X~
The August heat in Los Angeles wasn’t something you liked experiencing, especially when you were already feeling quite nervous standing in front of the building where Radio Silence Production office was. ‘Get it together, you know how these go,’ you berated yourself, you had a successful movie behind you, granted, you weren’t the one responsible for the success. And you had your current job, if this failed you were perfectly comfortable with not being an actress.
Even if Barbara would get on your nerves for it for the rest of your life.
You took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, the role was actually perfect for you, as if written with you in mind. About as close to action as you figured most horror movies would get you, and your proficiency with martial arts was a huge bonus when combined with physically fitting the description of your character. You were a bit taller, but everything else fit well enough.
A bit too well in some ways. But first you needed to go through the chemistry testing with the actress they were considering for the role of Tara Carpenter, your love interest and the character around who the entire plot would revolve in some ways, since she was the sister of the main character and the victim of the first attack, setting everything in motion. Tara was to be the glue for the new main trio of her, her sister and your character, and from what you heard the actress, Jenna Ortega, already did an amazing job with the actress cast to play Sam Carpenter.
With another deep breath you went inside the building. The air conditioning immediately provided you with a much-needed relief as you made your way up the stairs, ignoring the elevator that was right there. A minute or two later you were in front of the office doors. You knocked twice and the door opened, revealing one of the directors of the movie, Matt.
“Come in, come in,” he certainly looked excited as he ushered you inside, you were ten minutes early, but it was clear you were the last one to arrive.
“Damn, should have gotten here earlier,” you rubbed the back of your neck uncomfortably, being the last to arrive, even if you did come here earlier than expected, was never fun.
“It’s all good, I was just telling Jenna about the scene the two of you will do together,” Matt motioned toward a beautiful girl that looked like she was one or maybe two years younger than you, dressed perfectly between casual and professional, and that seemed a bit familiar, but you couldn’t quite remember where you’ve seen her before.
You looked to the side as you tried to remember where you knew her from. She was sitting next to an older woman, you guessed mid or late forties, that looked a lot like her, so you assumed it was her mother.
“That’s a relief,” you approached the girl and offered your hand to her. “Y/N L/N, nice to meet you,” you smiled, too late realizing the mask hid your smile, as she stood up and accepted the handshake.
“I’m Jenna Ortega, pleasure to meet you too,” her handshake was firm, but even more than that, her voice finally made it click where you knew her from. They would really be dumb if they didn’t hire her, considering just how amazing she was in You season 2.
You nodded as Jenna sat down and offered your hand to the woman next to her as well. “Y/N.”
“Natalie, nice to meet you,” the woman nodded as well and you turned back to Jenna as you sat down on a chair to her left, with a seat between the two of you.
“You, right? Season 2?” you were about ninety nine percent sure you got it right. The emotional scene she had in the season was the highlight of it for you and it was mind blowing for you that she was basically still a child when she filmed it.
Her eyes widened and you winced, fearing you made her uncomfortable, but she recovered quickly and nodded. “Yes, thank you, I mean,” she buried her face in her hands. “God,” she whispered, clearly embarrassed.
“No, it’s all good, I was about to say you were great,” you tried, you really did, to salvage the first meeting, but when she still looked like she wanted the ground to swallow her to save her from embarrassment, you were kind of lost and unsure of what to do. Luckily, you were saved by Matt.
He faked a cough and gave you the scene you were meant to do with Jenna. It was one of the two scenes you did for your audition, the first being a bit of the action scene, just so they could be sure you were fit for the physical side of the role. As if working at the gym and teaching several martial arts classes wasn’t enough. “Jenna, Y/N, please move to the couch and the chair we set up, Jenna, you’re meant to start lying down, the relationship between your characters leans a lot on the touch, so do it as if you were filming the scene. Y/N, you’ve got water right behind you,” he instructed the two of you as you removed your masks and as if in an instant you saw a shift in Jenna, as if she was completely focused on the task, and nothing else mattered.
Matt, the other director Tyler, and several other people observed the two of you as you got into position.
“And action!” Tyler instructed you.
You sat, still, acting as if you were in deep thought, trying to get inside the mind of your character. It felt easy, natural, and you were reminded of just how much fun you had when acting before, and it felt so damn right to be doing it again. Even after all the time you spent resisting it once you had the chance to do it again it felt like all of that resistance vanished and you embraced the role. For your character the girl she was in love with just barely survived a vicious attack and she spent the last twelve hours sitting by the girl’s side, waiting for Tara to wake up,
Jenna groaned, and you jumped to your feet, but froze mid-step, your body filled with tension. You continued watching carefully as Jenna opened her eyes and as your eyes met you relaxed your posture.
She blinked a few times before she focused on you. “C/N,” she said your character’s name, prompting you to snap into action and fill a glass of water. You went back to Jenna, and she raised her neck, taking a few sips as you slowly tilted the glass for her.
“Easy, I got you,” you moved once more, kneeling on one knee next to the couch, your hand brushing against the back of Jenna’s right hand. She didn’t flinch away, but you saw the panic and fear in her eyes, and it took your breath away how into character she got. “Tara! Tara you’re safe!” you still moved, quickly reaching up to cradle her cheek. “Okay? You’re safe,” you softened the tone of your voice considerably, and the two of you remained like that, waiting for the slight pause in the scene to play out.
And then Jenna sobbed, with so much emotion you damn near felt the exact need to protect her your character felt for her character. “Please, don’t leave me,” her eyes filled with tears.
“I won’t. I swear I won’t,” you wiped her tears away, though it wasn’t a part of the script, you just felt like that was something your character would do, and much to your surprise Jenna actually leaned into your touch, playing along with your slightly improvisation.
“You promise?” she asked, her tone so vulnerable, filled with emotion and pushing you to be even better, to give even more of yourself. You felt it at that moment, the instant connection, the instant chemistry, the same way you did years ago with your co-star and semi-mentor.
“I promise. You’re stuck with me until you tell me to leave,” you smiled back as she smiled slightly.
“Could you help me sit up?” Jenna went on with the scene, and you nodded, helping her sit up with as much care as you could while getting into the position your character needed to be in. Jenna leaned the back of her head onto your left shoulder, and you opened your mouth, your eyes meeting hers. “Let me stay like this for a bit? Please?”
And it was truly an awkward position, but you hugged her from behind, your left arm just beneath her neck. “Is this okay?” you asked, and not just as your character. Sure, your characters were meant to be close, but you just met and more than anything you wanted her to be comfortable.
“Yeah,” she relaxed against you for a few moments. “Did they catch him?”
Everything was calm between the two of you. “Not as far as I know.”
Jenna turned, leaning closer and burying her face in the crook of your neck and you nearly flinched, as it wasn’t part of the script, though you couldn’t deny it did fit the description of the relationship between your characters. “I’m so scared C/N,” she whispered, her warm breath tickling your skin.
“I’m here. I won’t let it hurt you again,” you said, hugging her a bit tighter than before.
“Cut!” Matt exclaimed and the two of you separated immediately and you watched as Jenna slowly slipped out of character as she moved to sit on the couch with you. And then you both saw the approval on Matt and Tyler’s faces, which was a very good sign.
“Great you two! That was wonderful!” Tyler praised you and you turned to Jenna with a grin on your face, the previous embarrassment forgotten as you raised your hand for a high-five, which she accepted, her eyes shining with excitement, and a tiny bit of embarrassment over the praise.
You could see this movie meant a lot to her, and you were really happy you didn’t fuck it up, in fact, you were almost certain you’d be working together on it after a chemistry test this successful.
~X~
You let a few days pass, not really waiting for the call, but always keeping your phone close. Funnily enough you were in a similar position your character was in. You’ve been training, practicing various martial arts and you were at a bit of a crossroad, stuck between acting and pursuing a career in MMA. The only reason you didn’t try to be a professional MMA fighter was because Barbara and Tom, your actual manager, and most importantly Hugh, demanded that you at least give acting another shot before going down that path.
Getting a serious injury to the face and trying to restart your acting career wasn’t something anyone would advise you to do.
Still, you had a feeling you were forgetting something these past few days, like there was something you didn’t do and probably should have.
You just came out of the shower, fresh after an average solo training session, when you phone rang. It was Tim, and since he was calling, and he very rarely called, preferring to text instead, you figured it was either really good, or really bad news. “What’s up?” you asked as you walked over to your sofa and grabbed a TV remote. Might as well watch something to pass time.
“You might want to pack your bags,” he certainly sounded happy. “You’re heading to Wilmington, you got the role in Scream 5!” he exclaimed and you almost dropped your remote with how happy he sounded. “Welcome back to acting X-23,” he joked and you laughed at that.
The movie you did years ago, Logan. And the reason why no one really recognized you, they all thought you’d be much younger than you were. The truth was, you filmed Logan back in 2013 and the start of 2014, but since several X-Men movies were yet to be released and spacing them a bit made money, combined with the decision that Logan would be Hugh’s last time playing Wolverine the movie got pushed to 2017.
Still, it was one hell of a starting point.
You still rolled your eyes at that. “Looking forward to it,” and you did. If the chemistry test with Jenna was any indication you were in for a really good experience. “Well, better start packing,” you figured and said your goodbyes to your manager.
About an hour later you got a notification on your phone and glanced at it. It was simple, Jenna Ortega has requested to follow you from Instagram. Your eyes widened and you smacked your forehead, so that’s what you’ve been forgetting to do. Well, you did have a private account so- ah, what the hell, you were just looking for excuses as you quickly accepted the request and followed her back.
And so you sat back, wondering if you should send her a message, congratulate her on getting the role because you were a hundred percent sure she got it. Or if you should just say hi, or anything really, and as you sat there, looking at the empty messages and wondering what you should do while the music played on TV you saw Jenna typing.
“Shit!” you cursed and exited the messages as if having Jenna immediately see ‘seen’ on the message would mean being caught doing something you shouldn’t be doing. You lowered your phone onto the table and watched it like a hawk, resisting the temptation to see if she was still typing, but minutes later your screen didn’t light up and you raised an eyebrow at that. She changed her mind?
And now you felt guilty because it felt like you knew something you shouldn’t. So, swallowing your pride and ignoring the slight fear you decided to send her a message after all.
18:21 Y/N L/N: Hey, sorry you had to follow me first, I’m not really all that active here
There, you sent it, nice, simple message. Nothing to worry about.
18:22 Jenna Ortega: Hi! It’s fine, don’t worry about it! I was thinking, I mean if you don’t have anything planned, maybe you’d like to meet up and get to know each other over a lunch?
Your jaw dropped for a moment, but when you thought about it, it really was a logical move, you should spend some time together before acting as characters that were supposed to be best friends turned lovers.
18:23 Jenna Ortega: No pressure, I understand if you’re busy!
You bit the inside of your cheek at that, she was backtracking because you took too long too answer after reading the message.
18:23 Y/N L/N: I do want to meet up!
18:23 Y/N L/N: I was a bit surprised, but it makes sense. Where do you want to meet?
~X~
In the end you agreed to meet up in Los Angeles where Jenna was wrapping up filming another movie. You managed to resist Googling the younger girl, wanting to hear it from her instead of going in knowing things about her. But you did hear her name popping up every now and then, a young, extremely talented actress that wasn’t even eighteen, hard-working and wonderful to work with.
A child actress, you knew that much without having to search for information on the internet. She decided to do it, to basically sacrifice regular childhood in favor of going to work. You felt lots of things regarding that, but you wanted to get to know Jenna better before you decided which of those many feelings prevailed.
You stood near the doors of a small diner Jenna recommended to meet up at, waiting for her. You were a bit nervous and ended up arriving twenty minutes earlier than you agreed to meet up. You could have gone in, ordered a drink, found a way to pass time inside instead of out in the street, but you just simply didn’t. Instead, you opened your phone and began reading ‘The House of Voices’ the book the script that caught your interest was based on. You were still in the talks for that movie, and if you got the role filming wouldn’t start for some time, so there wouldn’t be a scheduling issue.
You still wanted to get familiar with the source material. And the book was good, so that was a bonus.
You barely read a couple of pages when the sound of someone clearing their throat caught your attention and you looked to the side to see Jenna there, fifteen minutes early, dressed in a casual white T-shirt and plain jeans. Not a lot different from the casual clothes you chose to wear. “Hey,” you smiled, putting your phone away, only to realize you weren’t sure if you should offer her your hand or go for a hug.
Luckily, Jenna, either on purpose or by accident, solved that problem for you when she stopped forward, smiling shyly with arms spread slightly, inviting you in for a hug. “Thanks for agreeing to meet up,” she said as you hugged her. Her hold on you wasn’t too tight, but it wasn’t loose either, it wasn’t forced.
“Of course,” you replied and motioned toward the door when you separated. “Shall we?” you asked, making Jenna quickly nod. You smiled as she turned away, clearly more nervous than you anticipated she would be. You weren’t sure what about you caused her to be so nervous, but, you figured she just needed some time, so you let her lead the way into the diner and choosing seats near the corner, just to give both of you some extra privacy. Which wasn’t that difficult, seeing as the diner was almost empty. The soft melody of a violin playing seemed to soothe her as you both sat down.
“Did you wait for too long?” Jenna asked as you both got comfortable, the diner went for more casual and comfortable seating, going for sofas and lower tables instead of usual chairs.
You shook your head at that. “Just a few minutes, don’t worry about it,” especially since she came early as well.
Jenna nodded, not even bothering to hide the relief on her face as you said that. You decided even that early into knowing her, that she worried too much. You arrived early and you were aware that you were early. Any waiting that could have happened was on you.
A waitress approached the two of you and you both ordered, Jenna deciding on baked beans and you going for a risotto.
“Weather is much nicer here,” you suddenly said, glancing outside the window toward the clear sky before turning back to Jenna. “Denver’s been a bit cloudy these past few days,” you explained and watched as Jenna’s eyes widened a bit.
“You came here from Denver?” she asked, almost sounding astounded by that discovery. “I’m so sorry, I thought you’d still be in a hotel or something!” she quickly apologized, but you just shrugged.
“Hey, I accepted to come here, didn’t I? It’s all good,” you couldn’t do much more than just try and reassure her with your words.
Jenna just groaned and lowered her head. “It’s just, since so much is happening here I thought you’d be living close to here, make connections, make it easier to book auditions,” she explained and it made sense to you.
There was one thing she didn’t know though. “Oh, I’m not really working as an actress at the moment,” you admitted and were honestly a bit amused by how quickly she looked at you. “Well, I was, I did a movie as a child, figured I could wait until I grew up and now I’m sort of trying to get back in,” you summed it up.
Jenna nodded, looking a bit regretful when she heard you say that. “Sometimes I wish I made that choice too,” her eyes widened, as if she didn’t expect to reveal that. “I mean, I’m extremely lucky to be doing this, but there are some downsides.”
You could agree with that. You probably would have gone down the same path, if it wasn’t for one detail. “I nearly stayed as well, but then Hugh told me I didn’t have to rush it, that I should be a child first,” you explained, revealing bits about yourself that you didn’t usually speak about as easily as you did just now. You just felt like, since Jenna was so sincere, you owed her the same honesty.
The silence that followed was strangely comfortable, like two long-time friends just existing in each other’s company. Neither of you felt the need to rush the conversation. “So, horror?” you eventually broke the silence and started the conversation.
Jenna’s face immediately lit up with an almost child-like excitement and you leaned in subconsciously. “It’s just pure fun, you know. It’s this release, combining the thrill and fear, and everyone loves it. There’s passion, and deep understanding of what the story is supposed to be, that it isn’t meant to only provoke thoughts, but that it’s supposed to give people watching a relief from everyday worries, an escape of sorts. I, I think it ended up being an escape for me too,” she didn’t even seem to try to wipe off the grin on her face as you listened to her, completely focused on her words and soaking their meaning in. “Sorry, I’m rambling,” she apologized, blushing slightly as if she just caught herself doing it.
“Not at all. I don’t think I’ve ever thought about it from that perspective, but I can see it,” the fact that more often than not the villain was much stronger than the hero just worked, just made it more engaging. “We are kinda breaking the rules with our characters, aren’t we?”
Jenna thought it over for a moment and then nodded. “Now that you mention it, yeah. Tara survives the opening, while the scene pays homage to the flawless opening of the original,” she took a sip of her drink, buying some time so she could collect her thoughts. “And your character feels stronger than Ghostface, to the point of fighting two on one and still having an upper hand until they take my character hostage,” she pointed out.
“You’ve been a fan of these movies for some time, I’m guessing,” you paused, watching her nod at that. “How do those things make you feel?” especially regarding your own character.
Jenna didn’t bother hiding it this time, she just fell silent, and you could see she was taking her time, figuring out the way to word her answer. “It’s fresh, risky, but fresh. Ghostface has always been just a regular human with a knife, it’s plausible that someone trained would beat them. And Tara surviving just needs to happen for the plot to happen, so, you know,” she finished kinda sheepishly and you nodded smiling as the two of you continued talking for hours after that.
~X~
When Jenna came back to her hotel room that night it was already close to midnight, and you met up just a bit after three o’clock! She leaned back against the door of her hotel room, not even aware of the smile on her face as she closed her eyes. She had to admit she was worried about spending a portion of her day off like this, but not only did she spent more time with you than she anticipated, but she didn’t regret it one bit.
She pulled her phone out of her purse for the first time in almost nine hours and immediately wished for ground to swallow her whole. All the excitement and fun of the day just vanished into thin air, replaced by anxiety squeezing at her heart. She couldn’t even count the number of missed calls and texts from her family and Enrique, as well as Maddie. She took a deep breath, calming down her anxiety and calling her mom. For a moment she considered calling Aliyah, and letting her spread the news that she was fine, but she knew she had to reassure her mom herself.
“Jenna Marie Ortega, you’ve shortened my life by a decade!” her mom immediately shouted, and Jenna honestly couldn’t blame her. When she met up with Maddie before the movie they met up early and while they spent more time together they separated at a much earlier hour. This time Jenna didn’t even consider taking the time to call anyone while she was with you.
“Sorry!” she quickly apologized. “I’m fine, I promise, we just lost track of time,” she said sheepishly. And you did, the diner closed at ten and you really should have gone separate ways at that point, but Jenna offered you a walk, which ended up taking you both to a park.
“God help me, Jenna,” her mom sighed, but she could hear the immeasurable relief in her mom’s voice, and her guilt seemed to increase tenfold due to that.
“If it makes you feel any better, she walked me back to the hotel,” Jenna offered, remembering how you insisted on walking her back to the hotel, refusing to let her walk alone this late at night, and promising you’d send her a message when you came back to your hotel room. You parted ways with a hug, firmer than the one you had when you met up. Longer as well.
“I’m guessing it went well?” as if the time she spent with you wasn’t the answer to that question already.
She smiled once more, remembering just how often you made her laugh today, how many times you made her feel heard and seen with each topic either of you started. Going back and forth, discussing different ideas, talking about childhood. She found out you were an only child, but not much else about your family. But you did tell her about your experience as a child actress for a bit. And only then did Jenna realize she forgot to ask which movie you were in. A question for another day, she supposed. “I can’t remember the last time I had such a good time,” she easily admitted, feeling excited to work with you and eventually get to know you even better.
Her mom softened up at that, there was no doubt about it. “I can hear it in your voice,” she pointed out. “Don’t stay up too late, okay? I’ll tell everyone you’re fine, I love you,” and Jenna was thankful for that, she really wanted to go to sleep as quickly as possible.
“Thanks mom, love you too,” she hung up and smiled when her phone buzzed again.
23:57 Y/N L/N: Safe and sound. Sleep well, Jen
Jen… She just now noticed that at some point during the day you began calling her by a nickname.
She was worried about Scream. She was worried about the opening scene, about living up to what they were trying to do, and she was still worried about that. But this, meeting up with you, it eased her bigger worries. You had a kiss together, you would be carrying her, not to mention all the scenes you’d have in bed, lying next to each other. So, she was worried about all of that, worried about not getting along with someone she’s supposed to film all those scenes with, to hug and be held, and to kiss with.
There was no need to worry about that. If today was any indication she would be more than comfortable with you on and off camera.
~X~
You arrived at the hotel a day before the shooting began, and you settled in, appreciating that the room had pretty much everything you would need. And though the hotel itself didn’t have a gym there was one nearby in case you felt the need, or more likely, had the time to get a workout in.
You sent Barbara and Tom a message, letting them know you arrived and that things were going well. There was no one else to contact, the directors knew you arrived, so you just pulled out the script you were given, the final script, and began reading through it. The role you got did, in fact, require at least the build of an MMA fighter, preferably with skills to back it up, you certainly had an intense action scene coming up.
What caught your attention was just how physical the relationship between your character and Jenna’s character was. In damn near every scene you read where your character was on screen Tara was also present, and every time there was some touch involved, be it holding hands or Tara leaning on C/N. So, they were absolutely right when they got Jenna and you to do chemistry read in person instead over Zoom or some other platform.
A knock on your doors made you set the script aside, about a third of the way read, and you got up to open the doors. The woman you saw in front of your doors looked absolutely beautiful, even more beautiful in person than in the Zoom meeting the entire cast had not too long ago.
“Hi, Melissa, right?” you still wanted to make sure.
Since her mask was hanging beneath her chin you saw the smile on her face. “Yeah, you’re Y/N?” you nodded at that. “Great, could you come with me to my room for a few minutes?” she asked, pointing behind her down and down the hall, and though you were a bit confused you nodded. She didn’t look like she came just to hang out or say hi.
“Of course,” with that you closed the doors behind you and followed Melissa through the halls. The hotel you were staying in had pictures hung on the walls, beautiful paintings, some abstract art, modern and more traditional, pretty much something for everyone, without a clear theme. Or, at least, you weren’t sure if there was a pattern. Granted, you just arrived and didn’t have time to observe it closely. Still, it was pleasant to see.
“So, I managed to find something out,” she said and you glanced toward her. “And I’ve been wondering if you’re interested in helping us out?” you still had no idea what she was talking about, but when you came into her room you found most of your costars close to you in age. Jasmin, Mason, Mikey, Jack, Dylan and Sonia were there.
“Hey there,” you raised your hand to greet them, though you definitely noticed Jenna wasn’t there. She probably didn’t arrive yet, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t really looking forward to seeing her again. “So, what’s up?”
“Jenna is turning eighteen on Sunday, so, would you like to help us make a bit of a party for her?” Melissa explained and you grinned.
“Count me in,” somehow the birthday dates never came up when you two hung out in Los Angeles, but you were more than happy to help with this. The time you spent with Jenna that day was easily one of the best days you had in a long time. You felt at ease, relaxed, there was no pressure, or any kind of judgment in her eyes. She was just accepting, a wonderful person and you couldn’t think of any you’d work on this movie with you’d rather do this for.
“Great, what can you do?” Mikey asked, and that got you thinking. What would be the best way to help with this surprise birthday party? Well, you knew your answer, the question was how much could you hide from Jenna?
“I can cook,” and that, funnily enough, got your costars laughing, after all that was one of the things your character did for a living.
Damn, now it felt a bit like the role was made for you, either way, you sat down and while Jenna was oblivious to what was happening in Melissa’s room all of you began making plans for Sunday.
A/N: I am still very much on the fence about this, but, here you go, the first chapter. Tell me what you think, and I dunno... Taglist? Yes? No?
Masterlist / Next part
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lovecla · 2 months ago
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TAKE YOUR PAIN AWAY | quinn hughes.
00.3. your last day with quinn
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➴ chapter warnings: mention of a restrictive diet, constipation.
➴ word count: 1.7k
💌 from me to you: this was supposed to be a cute, hurt/comfort chapter but. i listened to madison beer while writing this so things took a turn and now it’s just depressing. at least there’s still some hurt/comfort here :,)
౨ৎ
2017, SEPTEMBER.
YOU were having the worst day ever.
It was a Friday, and one of those days where anything that could possibly go wrong, went wrong. First, you woke up at half-past five with a fever that made your entire body shiver. Your pajama was glued to your body, sticky with sweat. You sat on the bed, immediately regretting it because your head started spinning and suddenly you needed to throw up everything you’d eaten for dinner last night.
You felt like shit even when you managed to shower, sitting on your bathtub and letting the tears fall from your face. You felt so tired. It had already been a very stressful week, with your Mom forcing you to attend castings and auditions, making calls here and there so you could get the jobs she wanted for you, controlling everything you ate and drank.
On top of all of that, Peter and Quinn were leaving for college and you were sure you had never felt so alone before.
Quinn became your favorite person in the entire world when you both met four years ago. He was so important to you, and even though sometimes your heart didn’t understand what exact feelings you had for him, you needed him in your life.
The friendship you’d built over the past four years meant the world to you. How he took care of you, and how he tried to balance his career with still trying to be present in your life. How he would always ask about how you were doing in school, or about your dreams and wants. How he had introduced you to his family and how Jim and Ellen were nice to you, letting you come over to do your homework with Jack or Luke.
How sometimes you’d find Quinn practicing in their homemade ice rink, and you’d watch him for hours, impressed by his moves and skills. How sometimes you’d notice his hair falling out of the helmet, the sweat decorating his face and his blue, greenish eyes that would stare at nothing but the puck.
So when you found out he was leaving for Michigan? It hurt more than anything else, even if you were extremely happy for him.
You got out of the shower, feeling your body hurt everywhere. You were thankful that your classes didn’t start until next week and you didn’t have any auditions today so you could just jump right back in your bed.
Which was exactly what you did, sleeping like the dead after letting your tears fall for a bit more.
You woke up a few hours later, with a soft touch on your arm. Opening your eyes and immediately feeling them getting wet, you saw Quinn standing beside your bed.
“Hey there, sleepyhead,” he said, smiling. “Maria let me in. You didn’t come say goodbye to me.”
Your sick, tired brain took a little while to process what he was saying. Until you looked at the digital clock that sat on your bedside table, reading 11:34 a.m., Friday, 6 September.
Fuck.
You tried to get up, but your body still felt heavy. You were still shivering underneath the covers and your throat hurt.
“Maddie?” You could see he had stopped smiling.
You tried to smile, feeling the need to reassure him. “I’m sorry. I forgot to set an alarm,” you lied, trying to get up again and, thankfully, succeeding this time. “I’ll be downstairs in just a minute. Sorry.”
Getting up didn’t exactly mean success, since your legs failed after five steps and now you were on the floor, with your knee hurting like a bitch.
“Maddie, what,” Quinn said, quickly coming to your rescue, like he often did. You had a headache? Quinn had the right medicine for it. You hurt your finger? Quinn wrapped your hand with a bandage. You were hungry? Quinn was already in the kitchen making your meal. “What’s going on? Are you sick?”
“No, just— I just woke up.” You didn’t know why you kept lying to him and you felt like shit, but it was his leaving day. The Hughes were moving back to the US, so that Jack and Luke could join the NTDP in Michigan and Quinn could go to UMich. And it couldn’t get worse, not really. “I’m fine.”
“I can tell when you’re lying, Madison,” he hissed, angrily. You frowned. Quinn had never gotten angry at you, not even when you managed to ruin his hockey uniform with glitter. “You’re sick. Did you eat?”
“Yeah,” you mumbled, as he walked you to bed again. “I am fine, Quinn. It’s just constipation or whatever.”
“Stop acting like this is nothing, Madison.”
“Stop calling me that,” you frowned, annoyed for no real reason. You were going to miss them so much.
“It’s your name, isn’t it?” He raised his eyebrow.
“Why are you being so mean?” You whispered, feeling your eyes tearing up again, the fever making you shiver.
He stopped scowling for a second, softening his eyes at you. He sat beside you, placing his hand on your thigh, which you promptly grabbed. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to be mean. It’s just— I hate when you act like what happens to you isn’t important.”
You squeeze his hand, feeling less cold now.
“You’re like my little sister, so watching you sick is just as upsetting as it is with Lukey or Jack,” he chuckled, laughing like he hadn’t just shattered your feelings right there.
You didn’t know exactly what you felt for him, but you knew for a fact it wasn’t that silly admiration you had for him when you were little. You were fifteen now, and just when you were supposed to crush on the boys at your school, you were always comparing them to Quinn instead. And Quinn is always better than them.
Not to mention that he’d been getting cuter. He was losing his teenager features and it didn’t help it with your little infatuation for him.
Hearing him confirming that you were nothing but a family member to him stung. This was definitely the worst day of your life.
“Right,” you whispered, releasing his hand and wrapping your arms around your body. “I don’t think I’ll be able to go downstairs and say bye to you all. I’m sorry for that.”
“We’re only leaving at night so don’t worry. We’ll make sure you’re feeling better until then.” He replied, getting up.
“Where are you going?” You asked, confusion taking over your face.
“I’m gonna ask Maria to make some soup for you while I go look for some cold medicine,” he put his hands inside his jeans pockets, something he did often, and smiled at you. “Do you think you’ll be fine here for ten minutes?”
You nodded, watching as he poked your cheek before leaving your room.
You laid down for a while, trying to organize your thoughts. You still didn’t understand what the Hughes leaving meant to you, only that you’d miss them like they were your own. Because for a while, that’s what they were.
You must have snoozed again because next thing you know, Quinn was shaking you lightly again. You opened your eyes, staring at him.
“Maria made you chicken noodle soup and I brought you juice and pills,” he pointed at the tray on your desk, smiling.
You got up, sitting up against the headboard, and thanking him as he placed the tray on your lap.
“Mom would probably kill me if she knew I’m eating noodles,” you joked, coughing loudly. Ugh.
“I won’t tell her a thing, promise,” he quickly said, sitting on the chair beside your desk, resting his hands on his knees, as he watched you eat. “Can’t believe we’re actually leaving.”
You chuckled. “Yeah.”
“You will come to visit us, right?”
You placed your spoon inside your bowl again, staring at Quinn’s face, trying to memorize all of his features at once. His upper lip, slightly thinner than his bottom one. His wavy, brown hair, messy and untamed, so beautifully shaped. His eyes, darker than Luke and Jack’s, but still bright and vibrant. His nose, big and cute and your favorite feature on his face.
Oh, you were going to miss him so much.
“‘Course I will,” you mumbled, shoving the last spoonful of soup into your mouth. Lying to Quinn always felt wrong. “I’m… I’m gonna miss you,” His eyes softened, and before he could speak, you continued. “You made my life so much easier. You and your family are so important to me so thank you.” You felt your eyes watering, and you looked up. No crying in front of anyone.
“Oh, Maddie,” he got up, removing the tray from your lap and putting it back on your desk, so he could sit beside you. “There’s no need for tears.”
You tried to give him a reassuring smile and tell him you’re okay but you only managed to let more tears fall from your eyes.
He placed your head on his shoulder, pulling the blanket until it reached your chin, covering you completely. Then, he gently grabbed your hand underneath and held it tightly.
“I’ll be only an one hour flight away, Maddie. Our house is your house too.”
You sniffled, feeling your body starting to hurt again.
You wanted to tell him that you didn’t want him to leave, that you needed him in your life and that you loved him. A young, unripe love that made your chest hurt every time you thought about it.
But you knew that you were just being selfish. Ever since you met him, you knew Hockey was his life. It is his favorite thing in the world, and it means a lot to them.
So you would never tell him anything. No. At least one of you deserved to be happy.
“I know,” you mumbled. “Can I take a nap?”
He chuckled beside you. “Yeah, ‘course. Not before you take your medicine though.”
You rolled your eyes, hiding the rest of your face under the cover, hearing Quinn’s soft laugh.
Little did you know you’d keep that sound safe and secure in your heart, for the rest of your life.
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yoongiseesawmp3 · 5 months ago
Text
too sweet - san
summary: model!san x designer!reader. it's love at first sight when you see san. he's perfect...for your runway show! he's the top model right now, and everyone wants him. you want him a little more, but we'll unpack that later. can you get the it boy into your collection?
word count: 8.6k
warnings: afab reader
masterlist
"how many more?" you whine, collapsing onto the table in front of you. your dramatics shuffle all of the model cards out of order after you spent the last hour organizing them. your system is ruined, so your mood goes too. the only thing to pull you back to reality is jen, your right hand man. she pulls you up, encouraging words on her lips, and gets to reordering the cards you just messed up.
"we only have a few more," she reminds you. "and the last few have been good! i think we'll have plenty of options for your show."
"yeah, the girls have been great," you agree. "but the guys are all meh. i thought i was being all forward thinking doing a coed collection but now i wish i hadn't."
"oh come on," jen nudges you. "these guys were hot!"
"they're pretty, but this guy tripped, this one didn't bring a portfolio, and this one has conflicts from now until the show," you list off. "i need at least two more, or i'll have to cut the men's pieces."
"we'll find one," jen ruffles your hair. "you want me to go bring in the next model?"
"nah, we've got a few more minutes on our break," you tell her. "i'm gonna go get a coffee, do you need anything?"
"a water is fine," she replies as you slip out the door. you try to avoid the waiting area so you won't run into any potential models. you make it to the coffee machine down the hall, and of course it's just your luck that there's a tall skinny man already there.
"y/n?" he smiles. "i didn't know this was your show!"
"seonghwa?" you smile back. "i swear, you get taller every time i see you."
"what can i say? i eat my wheaties," he jokes, pulling you in for a polite hug. "how long have you had this gig?"
"few months," you reply. "i've been shitting bricks the whole time."
"i'm sure," he nods. "but you're doing a great job. i've never seen this many top models in the same place for years. everyone wants to walk for you."
"well that's very flattering," you mumble. "but you'd think 'top models' would come more prepared. half of these bozos have not impressed me."
"she's talented and determined," seonghwa notes. "guess i gotta bring my a game."
"i guess you do," you tease him. "hey, you don't know anyone who could come audition before the end of the day, do you? i need more guys."
"i could make a few calls," he thinks. "what do you have in mind?"
"is it too vain to say someone sexy?" you laugh. "we're looking for someone intimidating, good walk, strong features. it's a dramatic piece so i want someone unique."
"i might know a guy," seonghwa nods.
"anyone i'd know?"
"i guess you'll know when you see him," he replies. "i gotta go, i think i'm next, so-"
"right, right, go make yourself pretty," you tell him. "it was so good to see you!"
"you too," he smiles at you genuinely. "proud of you."
"hey, no shmoozing before your audition."
-
seonghwa got a place in your show, obviously. now you only need one more guy. jen convinced you the tripper could work with some help, and there was another model from earlier in the day that you think deserves a call. you still need someone for your final piece, though, and you're running out of hope.
"so how do you know seonghwa again?" jen asks as you wait for the last model to show. "and how well do you know him? and how well would he like to know me?"
"we worked together a few years ago," you laugh. "he was one of the models in my first show."
"so you gave him his big break? he's indebted to you?" jen asks. "he has to make it up to you by, i don't know, going on a date with your best friend and best stylist?"
"we'll see," you frown. "you know i don't like messing with models."
"i hate that rule," jen mumbles as she sits back in her seat. "where's this last model? i wanna go home."
"seonghwa said he pulled a favor getting him here," you explain as you check your phone. "so he might be running behind. i can wait for him if you wanna go."
"no, if he's anything like seonghwa i want to be here to ogle him."
at that, there's a knock at the door, and you call out for them to come in. who steps through the door is maybe the most beautiful man you've ever seen. he's striking, strong, and smiling shyly like he's not used to having eyes on him despite his profession.
"hi, i hope i'm not too late?" he asks, standing by the door.
"no," you quickly reply. "not at all, come in. you're seonghwa's friend?"
"yep," he confirms, walking up to hand you the most professional looking portfolio you've seen all day. and this guy wasn't even expecting to walk! no way you're hiring those other losers now. "i'm san."
"san, hi," you smile at him, and jen stifles a laugh next to you. somebody's smitten, she thinks, but she won't say anything just yet. "i'm y/n, i'm the designer, and this is jen, my stylist."
"nice to meet you," jen presents her hand, and san tentatively shakes it. "firm handshake, i like it. you have soft hands."
"thanks?" he laughs nervously. "um, so do i just-"
"yes, yes," you motion for him to head to the back of the room. "whenever you're ready."
as if you weren't already convinced this was the guy for you (i mean, for your show) then his walk sold it. his presence is so commanding, his movements so precise, and you've never seen someone with such perfect posture. it makes you sit up straighter as he walks toward you, and you almost swoon when he winks at you before turning around. you squeeze jen's hand under the table, and when san finishes his walk you fight the urge to applaud.
"that was great!" jen comments once san is finished. "y/n, what did you think?"
"you're perfect," you breathe out, and jen nudging you brings you back to earth. "uh, for the collection."
"thanks," san smiles proudly. "hopefully i'll hear from you soon."
"hopefully you will," you smile back. "thanks for coming on such short notice."
"it was my pleasure," san says, waving as he ducks out into the hall. as soon as the door is shut, you turn to jen and say, "i love him."
"i know you do," she laughs. "so is he in the show?"
"in the show?" you scoff. "he is the show. he's exactly what i was imagining. i want ten more of him."
"i'm sure you'd like that," she says with a waggle of her eyebrows.
"stop," you roll your eyes. "i just said i don't mess with models."
"mhm," jen nods. "so who else are we casting? we have one spot for sure..."
-
san and seonghwa were cast immediately. well, maybe not immediately. you both looked through their portfolios, ooh'ing and aah'ing over their looks before deciding they had to be in the show. when you and jen decided on the next two male models quickly, you figured this would be an easy discussion. wrong! you have four female models you're willing to fight tooth and nail for, and jen has her own four that she's just as committed to. you've been deliberating for a while now, so you decide to take a break. you head to that same break room you met seonghwa in earlier, and you thought briefly about taking san's portfolio with you. for research purposes, obviously, but you decided against it.
as soon as you step into the hallway, you hear faint sounds of music. not unusual for this studio space, but still, you proceed with caution. you don't want to interrupt anybody, so you walk quietly until you find the the source of the sound. it's san! and he's...dancing?
"oh god, sorry," he bumbles as soon as he sees you. he rushes to his phone, propped against the window in front of him. "god. that's embarrassing."
"what were you doing?" you smile at him.
"embarrassing myself," he mumbles, rubbing the back of his neck. he wiggles his phone in the air and explains, "my agent wants me to post more, says it'll help me get booked, and he sent me a couple tiktok trends he wants me to do. so i was.."
"dancin' your heart out?" you tease, and he blushes.
"you could say that," he smiles shyly, again making it seem like he's not used to having attention on him. does he know he's a model?
"wait, how long have you been out here?" you ask, worried he might have heard you and jen (mostly you) gawking over his portfolio.
"just a few minutes," he shrugs. "part of why i was able to come walk for you is because of another audition i had on the other side of this building. so i was over there for a while, and came back here to humiliate myself in front of my favorite designer, it seems."
"your favorite, huh?" you ask. "good thing we've cast my show already, otherwise i'd think you're sucking up."
"damn, so i'm too late?" san laughs.
"who else is auditioning models here?" you change the subject.
"kim hongjoong?" san says it like a question, and you nod in recognition.
"he's good," you hum. "i hope you don't get it though."
"what?" san balks. "why?"
"because i want you in my show," you shrug. "and i don't wanna fight hongjoong for you, even though i know i'd win."
"you sure about that?" san asks. "he's been working out, i hear."
"oh i could so take him," you assure san. "i'm a biter." you notice a flicker in san's eyes, a hint of something, but you feel yourself blushing and cough so you have an excuse to cover your face. "excuse me. i should probably go, we've got a few more models to cast.."
"wait, so you just drop the bomb that i'm in your show and then you're gone?" san asks, following you down the hall. "how do i know you're serious?"
"because you have my word," you furrow your eyebrows. "but if you really need the confirmation, i'm sure my people will call your people soon." as if on cue, san's phone starts buzzing, still perched on the window. san looks to it, then you. you feel vindicated as you turn and walk on to the break room with a flick of your hair over your shoulder, leaving a stunned model and the smell of peaches in your wake.
-
all the models have been cast, and it's the morning of your first fitting. you slept in your studio last night because you had so much work to do. it was mostly tiny alterations to ensure the pieces fit their new models, but you also spent half the night cleaning. you don't let people into your studio usually, or if you do, it's people that know you well enough to know you and your work are a mess. but today, you're the boss. you need to look put together, and so does your studio.
you're standing by the door, taking everything in, and decide that this is as clean as you'll get it. there's still fabric, zippers, stray threads strewn all over your work tables, but you're a designer. that's normal. if the models have complaints they can deal. being next to the door, you hear something in the hall, but write it off as one of your artistic neighbors at work. you start to walk away, toward your coffee station in the back, when the doorknob to your studio jiggles. you hear a quiet "shit" and then a polite knock, so you walk over cautiously. one look through the peephole reveals who it is.
"san?" you ask, opening the door. "what are you doing here?"
"realizing i am," he checks his ridiculously expensive watch, "an hour early for my fitting. sorry." he adds a sheepish smile at the end and you fight the urge to coo. he looks like he just woke up, and that he definitely rushed here. his clothes are mussed, hair in a beanie to hide it not being done, eyes puffy with sleep. still, he looks perfect.
"was the email confusing?" you ask. "i was worried that-"
"no," he shakes his head. "no, i was just, um, i'm really excited," he explains shyly. "i almost couldn't sleep last night, so when i woke up this morning i thought i had overslept. i should've checked."
"no worries," you say as you blush. he was excited? for a fitting? man must love his job. "here, come in. i just finished cleaning, so you get first dibs on space. there's a couch in the back if you want to nap before we get started."
"how long have you been here?" san asks, looking around at the studio. he sees a lot of chaos, but it's beautiful chaos. colors that compliment each other perfectly, strange techniques that have made something stunning. he can't believe he'll be part of this show.
"uh, since last night," you admit, finally reaching your coffee machine. "i had a lot to do."
"you slept here?" san frowns, tossing his stuff onto a table before joining you. he leans against the wall as he watches you.
"yeah," you shrug. "i hate waking up early, so it saved me from getting here grumpy if anything."
"but did you rest?" he asks, looking out at the studio. "this is a big space for one person to clean."
"jen helped," you tell him. "she was here last night to bring over the shoes for each outfit."
"which one is mine?" san asks with an eager smile.
"wouldn't you like to know?" you stick your tongue out at him for good measure. "yours isn't out here. it's so big i had to keep it in my office, i couldn't move it out here by myself."
"it's big?" he looks a little scared.
"that may not be the right word," you think. "it's heavy, so that's why i needed someone strong to wear it."
"you think i'm strong?" san smirks, and you blush. "how'd you know?"
your mind thinks to his portfolio still sitting on your desk, full to the brim of him in scantily clad photoshoots. you've seen pictures of his chest, his abs, his arms. muscles that had to take hours in the gym to sculpt. you wonder shyly if his portfolio is still on your desk, open to a picture of him in a pink outfit with a hint of his chest on display. you'll have to cover it quickly if it is.
"i asked seonghwa how you two met, and he said you go to the same snooty model gym," you explain, which is the truth. seonghwa had been in a couple shows with san before they became friends, but it took the two of them working out together to actually become buddies. they've been looking out for each other ever since, seonghwa told you. san seems to think your explanation was enough, so he hums and nods before turning his attention back to your collection.
"so how did you and seonghwa meet?" he asks casually. you tell him about your first show, as an independent designer no less, and how seonghwa found you stress crying backstage. as you always do when describing seonghwa, you stress how your relationship was friendly, but nothing more. you never want anyone to think you're fooling around with one of your models. but san finds himself thinking, hm, that means seonghwa isn't his competition.
"do you want anything to drink?" your voice pulling san from his thoughts. he looks at you, cupping a warm mug of coffee, and smiles.
"no, thank you," he says. "i try not to have anything before a fitting, i never want to mess up the sizing and put more work on the designer."
"san that doesn't sound healthy," you frown. "and what kind of designer is sticking you in clothes so skin tight you can't have a glass of water? i need names."
"it's a lot of them, i'm afraid," he laughs. "most people cast me expecting to show off my abs, or something else, so i don't have much space to mess up during show season."
"yeah, you are always showing some kind of skin," you think about it.
"you been studying me?" san teases, and you blush.
"i'm a designer, it's my job," you mumble. "i reviewed everyone's portfolio thoroughly."
"what was seonghwa's last shoot then?" san quizzes you. you make a guess, but you get it wrong. "and what was mine?"
"vogue, right?" you answer immediately, and san responds with a shit eating grin.
"i'm so telling hwa i'm your favorite model now," he says, resting against the wall again as he folds his arms over his chest. his very muscled arms, and his broad-
"knock knock!" jen shouts from the door. she steps inside and asks, "you know you didn't lock this- oh hey san."
"good morning," he nods to her. "nice to see you again."
"nice to see you too, so bright and early," jen says as she looks at you. "how long have we been here?"
"me since last night, san since a few minutes ago. he didn't read the email."
"i read the email!" he whines. "i was just excited!"
"that's sweet," jen coos as she dumps bags onto one of your worktables. "i hope i'm not interrupting anything?"
"jen, do you have a favorite model?" san asks, and she thinks for a moment.
"no, i don't," she shakes her head. "there's too many good ones, so it depends on the day. why do you ask?"
"i just found out i'm y/n's favorite," san explains with a smile.
"you just found out?" jen laughs, and you groan. san looks like he's gonna say something else but you speak before he can.
"hey, since y'all are both here, come help me move this table," you command. "we need space for the models to walk." they do as you say, but share a knowing look while you're distracted. it's a bad thing to have your best friend and your crush in cahoots, but you'll figure that out later.
-
since san was here early, you got to work on his fitting first. jen finished setting up the workroom while you and san went to your office. jen made a show of putting headphones in to listen to music, and you wanted to pinch her so hard. she's making it obvious that you have a thing for san, and you're hoping beyond hope he doesn't notice.
"oh my god," he whispers when you open the door to your office, revealing the piece you've dedicated the past few months to. "that's incredible."
"you like it?" you turn to him, unsure. "it's a lot, i know."
"i love it," he smiles from ear to ear. "i've never worn something like this before."
"i hope no one has," you laugh nervously. "i tried a technique to emulate fur, so i'm hoping this is a super cool fashion innovation that'll take the industry by storm."
"how'd you do it?" san asks, looking at the piece in awe. "and how long did it take?"
"so, i shredded pounds and pounds of natural fabric until it looked so fine it could be a better alternative to faux fur," you explain. "and it took me about...four months?" san whistles lowly, his hands twitching at his sides. "you can touch it if you want."
"i want to put it on," he turns to you excitedly. "how do you want me to wear it?"
"don't hate me," you beg. "since this is such a big piece, and i want it to draw attention, i don't have a shirt for you."
"that's ok," san nods. "adds to the natural element."
"exactly," you smile, blushing anyway. "and there's just white pants underneath, for contrast. they should be super comfy, to make up for the workout you'll get walking around in the jacket."
"i can't wait," san says happily. he turns to you fully, looking between the outfit and you. "do you want me to strip, or...?"
"oh god, let me turn around," you say. "the pants are on the desk. let me know when you have them on."
"you're very polite," san chuckles. "most designers try to manage every single thing, including how models get dressed."
"it's pants," you scoff. "if you can't put pants on how did you get out the house?"
"i'm ready," he says, and you turn back to find him in the pants, yes, but still with his shirt on.
"um, do you mind?" you ask, tugging at the neckline of your own shirt hoping he gets the hint. it distracts him just enough that you have to call his name, and he looks at you with a hum. "can you, uh, take your shirt off?" he responds with actions, pulling his shirt off in one swift motion. you squeak out, "great!" and then shuffle toward the mannequin. "i might need help lifting this."
"no worries," he hurries to your aid, his hands brushing yours as you push the jacket off the form. "wow, this is no joke."
"if it's too heavy i can-"
"i can handle it," san says firmly. "help me into it?"
you hold up one side while san slips his arm in, and then help him into the rest. you take a step closer, trying to fasten the clasp on the front, but it won't meet. you struggle for a minute, hands ghosting so softly over san's chest. he doesn't realize he's holding his breath until your voice pulls him from his focus.
"what?" he looks down at you. "why are you frowning? it looks great."
"it doesn't fit over your chest," you pout. "i thought i had your measurements right-"
"oh, sorry, i've been working out," san admits. "and i think i gave you an old portfolio since i was in a rush, so my information may not be up to date..."
"shit," you mumble, and san tries to fix the situation. he starts tugging at the jacket, but you gasp and grab his hands, stilling them instantly. you look at him sternly as you instruct, "i'll make it fit, you just have to wear it. please don't do my job for me."
"sorry," san whispers. you're so close he could just lean down and kiss that pout from your lips, but that wouldn't be professional of him. but boy does he want to.
"before you take it off, let me find your shoes," you look around. "i want to see the whole look together...maybe jen knows where they are."
you open your office door and peek your head out, gasping at what you find. jen is pushed up against one of your work tables, and seonghwa is standing before her holding her waist like she could slip away at any moment. they're making out like they've done this before, and you clear your throat to get their attention.
"hi," seonghwa mewls. "this isn't what it looks like."
"looks like two of my employees are goofing off when they should be doing their jobs," you mumble, wandering around the studio. "jen, where are san's shoes?"
"um, by the door?" she guesses. "i didn't see his outfit in here, so i didn't know where to put them."
"it's in my office," you respond. "that's why i took him in there."
"i didn't know," she shrugs. you find the shoes and then glare at them, but neither one takes you seriously.
"seonghwa, your outfit is labeled with your name. it's an easy piece, simple closures, so you shouldn't need any help getting it on," you explain. "jen, come here. we have a problem."
"holy shit, you look awesome," jen says as soon as she sees san. she looks at you and asks, "what's wrong with it?"
"his chest is too broad," you frown again, staring at san's chest. "i can't get the jacket to close."
"he can't hold it when he walks?" jen suggests, and san tries it out. you start shaking your head before he finishes, and he actually whines when he sees your reaction.
"no, it's gonna fall off your shoulders if you do that," you say. "i want it to stay in place, and i need the clasp to work for that to happen."
"so what are you gonna do?" jen asks.
"not sleep until i fix it?" you reply. you look at her in defeat and add, "i don't know what else i can do."
"can i help?" san offers, but you shake your head again as jen says, "yes, you can." you try to protest, but she cuts you off.
"he can cut the initial shreds!" she offers. "then you do your magic putting them into the jacket. it takes out a step for you so hopefully it'll be quicker."
"what she said," san butts in. "let me help, please."
"i can't pay you for your extra time," you say softly. "i don't want to impose-"
"don't care," san shakes his head. "i've got nothing else going on."
"perfect!" jen claps her hands together. "you two figure that out, i'm gonna check on hwa..."
-
the rest of the fitting goes well. it's perfect, actually. you have the best models you've ever worked with, every piece fits, and the collection looks beautiful all together. you tear up watching them all walk before you, and the piece san is wearing literally makes a hush fall over the room. he still walks toward you with a wink, but this time it doesn't affect you as much. you're too focused on how much time it'll take to add a couple more inches to the coat. when san finishes, everyone looks to you expectantly, and it takes jen calling your name for your mind to catch up with your mouth.
"i don't know what to say," you admit. "you all did an amazing job, and this was just a fitting! imagine what this show will look like on a real stage. um, a couple things to note..."
once you finish your boss spiel, the models all start changing and leave one by one. you make sure to thank them all before they leave, and in a few minutes it's just you, jen, and san left.
"seonghwa didn't wanna stick around?" you ask jen.
"you scared him," she replies. "he left so fast i'm surprised he didn't leave a trail of smoke."
"i'll talk to him," you brush it off. "keep your paws off him in my studio though."
"no promises," jen sighs, gathering her things. "i need to go get another pair of heels for our tall girl, so do you need anything else from me before i go?"
"a hug?" you think. "i couldn't have done this without you."
"she loves me!" jen says to san, and he smiles encouragingly.
"you two are amazing," san says. "i don't know how just two people put together such a stunning show."
"lots of work," you say.
"i cried a few times," jen adds.
"we both did," you conclude. "but it was fun, so it was worth it. right?"
"fun, sure!" jen agrees.
"get out of here," you push her playfully. "please rest. no boys."
"you too," jen wags her finger at you. then to san, "don't let her work too hard!"
"i'll try my best," he salutes her, and jen leaves with a laugh. he turns to you and asks, "what can i help with?"
"i need to buy more fabric," you think. "so if you want to grab food while i-"
"no, we'll both grab food, and then fabric," san decides. "or fabric then food. either way, i'm buying your lunch."
"but-"
"nope," he pulls you into his side and walks toward the door. "can't work hard on an empty stomach!"
-
you find yourself enjoying san's company more than you were expecting. he's easy to talk to, easy to laugh with, and he's so kind. he insisted on buying your lunch, even though that was going to be your payment to him for helping. he even tried to buy the extra fabric, claiming it's his fault you had to buy more anyway. you get back to your studio, smiles on both your faces, and get to work.
"so we need these in strips about an inch wide," you explain as you lay a few yards of fabric out on a work table. "tear them into strips, then we'll cut them in half, and then i can start shredding and adding them to the coat. sound good?"
"got it, captain," san nods. "how many do you need?"
"i don't know yet," you make a face. "you're a big guy."
"i'm just so strong," san rolls his eyes, flexing a little bit as he does.
"stop that," you laugh. "get to work. you want music on?"
"yeah, whatever you wanna listen to," san says as he straightens the fabric. you watch as he measures carefully, taking the fabric cutter over the material slowly. he holds up his first strip, looking to you for approval. "is this good?"
"perfect," you tell him. "now make like a thousand more."
"what are you gonna do while i work, hm?" san asks. "i've got a lot to do and you're just gonna watch me?"
"gotta make sure you're doing it right," you reply. "but i need to pack up some of these other pieces, they're getting shipped to the venue in the morning. my least favorite part of the job."
"how many shows have you done now?" san asks, and you fall into comfortable conversation with him while you work. you get most of the collection packed up before you know it, so you walk over to his table to check on his progress.
"not bad for a model," you say as you inspect the pieces. "you could make a mean designer's assistant."
"you in the market for one?" san asks, and you notice how close you are. he's a little taller than you, so all you'd have to do is stand on your toes and- "what are you thinking about?"
"what?" you whisper, taking a step back. san's hand catches your waist, holding you in place.
"what were you thinking about, just now?" he asks again. "you were staring."
"you're a model, i'd expect you'd be used to everyone staring at you," you whisper back.
"you're not everyone," he says softly. his eyes flit down to your lips, and before you can think you lean in and kiss him. it's quick, barely a touch, but you kissed him, and his hand on your waist tightens. when you look up at him, he's blushing. "what was that for?"
"um, for helping me with your outfit?" you reply.
"anything else you need my help with?" san smirks.
"san, i'm sorry, i shouldn't have done that," you whisper.
"yeah, you pulled back too quickly," he pouts.
"no," you laugh shyly. "no, um, i have a rule that i don't mess around with my models."
"got it," san sighs. "bummer, but i understand."
"i should start shredding these," you say, grabbing a pile of fabric. san's still holding onto you though, so you look at him expectantly. "you gonna let me go?"
"you don't mess with models, ever?" san asks. "or is it just models that are working for you?"
"um, the second one," you think. "but san-"
"then we'll talk about this again when the show is over," san says with finality. "i don't mind waiting."
"as long as you can keep things professional," you tell him.
"says the one who kissed me," san teases.
"whatever," you roll your eyes. "i'm gonna go work on the jacket."
"um, do you think these are enough strips for now?" san asks sheepishly. "i actually have to leave for an audition..."
"my god," you look at the time. "please, go. i'm sorry i kept you for so long."
"i'll come back when i'm done," san says like it's nothing. "i don't really want this show anyway, but my agent booked it, so i have to go."
"that's good to hear," you mumble. "because i don't like sharing."
"make sure you take a break while i'm gone," san points at you accusingly.
"go to your audition," you say as you walk to your office. "i'll be here when you get back."
-
san thinks about you the whole time he's gone. he breezes through the audition and gets an offer before he leaves, but after being in your show this designer seems scattered, unprofessional, and just not as good as you. his collection is fine, but it's nothing impressive. san can't wait to get back to your studio and see the progress on your coat, but when he knocks at the door there's no response. he waits, tries again, and still nothing. he tries the door and it opens easily, so san wanders in calling out your name. he doesn't see you in the work room, but there's a light on in your office.
"y/n?" he calls, stopping at the door when he sees you slumped over your desk, snoring softly. he looks at the mannequin next to you and lets out a gasp. it's more dramatic now with more fabric, and san thinks briefly it'll be even heavier to wear. he doesn't care though. right now, he's more concerned about getting you to someplace you can rest.
"you're back," you mumble, sitting up as you rub your eyes. "i fell asleep."
"i see that," san chuckles. he walks over to you and holds his arms out. "come on, we gotta get you home."
"what are you doing?" you ask, letting out a shriek when san picks you up. you hit his back weakly, but he carries you out of your office, through your studio, turning lights off as he goes.
"where's your bag?" san asks. you point and he carries you still, handing your things to you before doing a sweep of the studio. "ready to go?"
"where are we going?" you mumble into his shoulder. "i was sleeping just fine-"
"i'm taking you home," san says. "you need to sleep in a bed. not hunched over your desk."
"why are you being so nice to me?" you whisper as you nuzzle into him further. he doesn't reply, but you wouldn't hear it anyway. you drift off in his arms, only waking up when san slides you into the passenger seat of his car.
"you know how to get home from here, sleepyhead?" san asks as he ruffles your hair. you type your address into your phone, handing it to him before he closes the door carefully to rush to the driver's side. he laughs nervously when he sits down and finds you staring, so he asks, "what? too much?"
"i really want to kiss you again," you admit.
"but you can't," san coos. "remember your silly rules?"
"hmph, i was gonna say screw my rules, but then you made fun of me, so-"
"no, no i take it back!" san cries, but you turn and lay your head against the window. you smile to yourself as san begs you to turn back around, giggling as he tugs on your arm. you pretend to snore and san gives up, but his hand has moved from tugging your arm to just holding your hand. you stay like that the whole way home.
-
the runway show is tomorrow. you still aren't done with san's jacket. and you still aren't sure what to do since you kissed him. jen has ideas, though.
"climb him like a tree," she tells you for the nth time as she helps you unpack outfits at the venue. "he sooo wants you. and you sooo want him."
"doesn't matter who wants who," you mumble as you try to hold at least three pins by your teeth. you're securing a new zipper to your favorite dress. it wouldn't be a runway show without things falling apart last minute, and you could have punched a wall when you unpacked this dress to find the zipper literally holding on by a thread.
"the show is tomorrow, y/n," jen says sternly. "you can't hide behind your silly 'no models' rule for much longer."
"i won't," you assure her. she looks at you surprised, but she can't ask any follow ups because there are voices coming from the entrance.
"hello?" seonghwa calls out. you yell back that you're backstage, and when he appears he immediately finds jen to pull her into a hug.
"what are you doing here?" you ask him. "you don't have a fitting today."
"i brought him for moral support," san says from behind you. he's so close, and you didn't hear him come up, so it makes you jump. his hands fly to your waist, trying to soothe you, but the touch makes you jump too. "why are you so skittish?"
"i'm stressed," you respond, stepping away so you can find his coat. you look over your shoulder as you tell him, "the jacket still isn't done."
"what?" he whines. "do i need to tear more fabric?"
"no," you laugh. "just come here." he joins you further among the mess that is your collection, following closely behind you through the maze of clothing racks. you stop by his mannequin, turning to find him still incredibly close to you. "it just needs a clasp. as long as you didn't get broader over night."
"no promises," he smirks before pulling his shirt off. "can you help me get it on?"
"you've never needed my help before," you frown as you try avoid staring at his chest.
"yeah well, it's like ten pounds heavier now," san says. "and i'm just so weak..."
"bullshit," you laugh, helping him lift the coat anyway. you hold one side for him while he slips his arm in, then help him hold onto the other. "ok, stay here." you scurry off to get your sewing kit, and san finds jen's gaze through the clothes. she gives him a thumbs up and an exaggerated wink, and he stifles a laugh as you come back. you're holding more pins between your teeth, and san cries out. "what?"
"that can't be safe," he says as he reaches for one, but ends up pricking himself. "ouch."
"no touching," you mumble. "and hold the jacket like this." you guide his hands to hold the coat in place, and san watches intently as you work. you have to hand sew extra buttons on to support the new weight, so it takes a while. san tries to talk to you, but he's so worried about the pins in your mouth he can't focus.
"let me hold these," he grumbles, carefully pulling a pin from your lips. he takes the rest and cups them in his hand, accidentally pricking himself again. "ouch."
"that's what you get," you laugh. "you didn't have to hold them for me, i'm an expert at this by now."
"yeah, but if you had pins in your mouth, i couldn't do this," san says as he uses his free hand to cup your chin. he looks down at you with a smile before he kisses you. he kisses you and holds you against him, his lips so soft on yours. you sigh into the kiss, lost in the feeling of having him so close to you. you can feel his heart beating in his chest, and your hand that had been gripping the coat falls to his warm skin. you push him away, a little gasp on your lips when it hits you what's happened.
"what happened to being ok with waiting?" you ask him, and his head falls to your neck, leaving one kiss against your skin before he pulls back.
"i forgot," he whispers.
"well remember at least until i finish these buttons," you tell him.
"and then what?"
"then you gotta show me your walk," you say. the way you look up at him makes san want to kiss you again, but he does his best to refrain. you hold your hand out for the pins, and you put them back in your sewing kit as you say, "in a few minutes, your coat will finally be done."
"can't wait," san hums, his hands back to holding the jacket in place. "but i admit i'll miss having a reason for you to be so close to me."
"i'm sure you'll find more," you mumble, focusing on the last button. when it's sturdy enough to hold weight, you try securing the jacket together just enough for it to stay on san's shoulders. "hands off," you instruct, and san moves his hands from the coat to your shoulders. "hands to yourself."
"aw," he pouts. you start to walk away and he follows, but you tell him to stay put.
"stay there, then walk toward me," you direct him. "i wanna see how it moves now."
"you want me to go full model mode?" san asks. "can you handle it?"
"just show me," you groan, and the cocky grin on san's face should've warned you. it's like he changes into another person, his demeanor completely different. you realize now that the san you know is not model san, because the man before you is...intimidating? you almost back up as he walks toward you, his gait powerful and his stare petrifying. everything is so dramatic and the movement matches the coat perfectly. he still winks at you as he comes closer and turns, moving the coat so each layer of fabric, each shred explodes into an arc before you. san finishes his walk, turning over his shoulder with a shy smile on his face. he's back to the san you know as he asks, "how was that?"
"you're perfect," you stammer out, mimicking your words from the first time san walked for you. "for the collection. for this piece. everything. this is exactly what i imagined."
"good," his smile widens. "and the weight isn't too bad. it's distributed better now."
"good," you cough, trying to calm yourself down. watching that made everything real to you. this show is happening tomorrow. your nerves are hitting you now, and san can tell.
"are you ok?" he asks, rushing to your aide. he looks like he's going to pull you into a hug when you hear jen calling for you somewhere, and you disappear before san gets a chance.
-
the hours leading up to the show are a blur. in the hours leading up to the show, you are a blur. you don't stay still for more than a few minutes at a time. there's just so much for you to do, so many people to talk to, and so many people that need your help. a stylist asking your opinion. a model with loose threads down her back. a man with pleading eyes that you know is watching you from afar, ready to jump in if you collapse from nerves, or exhaustion, or both. you find jen at the accessories table, helping a model find bangles that won't fall off her arm as she walks. you grab onto jen, leaning in closely to rest your head against hers.
"i'm so tired," you whine. "and scared. and sweaty."
"ew, then get off me," jen pushes you away playfully. she finishes up with the model and sends her away before asking, "are you ok though? really?"
"why did i think dressing san without a shirt would be a good idea?" you whisper to her, watching him as he laughs with seonghwa about something. it's like he can feel your eyes on him, because he looks toward you and winks.
"because it is a good idea," jen says. "and he's not gonna be shirtless for long. you need to go help him into the coat, the show's about to start."
"shit," you curse, checking the time. "i have so much to do-"
"wait!" jen shouts, holding you in place. "something's missing."
"my will to go on?"
"no, you need lipstick," jen decides. she digs into the bag at her hip and finds the perfect pink shade for you. it matches your dress (that you designed) and it matches the warm pinks that you sprinkled into the collection. "there. you're ready."
"no i'm not," you mumble. "i didn't get to practice my welcome speech."
"go practice it with san!" jen pushes you in his direction. "five minutes!"
your palms get sweaty the closer you get to san. you're not sure if it's him, or the running countdown in your head reminding you that your show is about to happen. when you finally make it to san, he's alone, and he's smiling at you nervously.
"time for the coat?" he asks. you nod, and he follows you to the mannequin in the back. "how do you feel?"
"like i'm gonna pass out."
"i'll catch you," san jokes.
"arms up please," you squeak out. he helps you lift the coat silently, sliding into it like it's the most comfortable thing in the world. "and just let me secure it..."
"y/n," san whispers. "look at me." you don't listen, fussing over the buttons instead. you're smoothing out the warm pink fabric as san's hands cover yours, stilling them over his chest. "breathe for a second."
"i'm freaking out," you admit, looking up at him. "i have to go out there, and do a speech, and then watch my clothes, my life for the past year, all be judged by these strangers, and-"
"and you've done it before, and you survived," san smiles softly. "you're pretty great at this, in case you didn't know."
"but-"
"nope," he shakes his head. "it'll be great."
"it will," you say unsurely.
"say it like you mean it."
"the show will be great," you declare, and san squeezes your hands before he lets them go.
"and then after the show..." san trails off, and you feel your heart start to race. "i don't know, maybe i could take you out to celebrate?"
"san, i can't think about that right now," you shake your head. "i can't-"
the stage manager starts calling out models for the line up, and san looks away sadly. he nods like he's got his answer and starts to walk away, but you pull him back. you don't say anything, just cup his chin and leave a delicate kiss on his cheek.
"we'll talk after the show," you whisper. the stage manager calls for him again, and he looks at you one more time before he leaves. you let out a nervous breath, checking your reflection in the vanity next to you. it's now or never. you walk up to the side of the stage, and your heart drops to your ass. something is wrong.
"what's going on?" you hiss, walking up to find make up artists swarming san. "this can't be happening."
"you did this," one of the artists whisper shouts back, pointing to san's cheek. fuck. the lipstick. your lipstick left a bright pink mark on his skin. "we don't have time to fix it!"
"then don't," san shrugs. "i like it."
"y/n?" the stage manager looks at you. "we have one minute. are we fixing this?"
"uh, n-no," you stammer, and the crowd disperses, leaving you and san again. "here, i can wipe it-"
"don't," san swats your hands away. "now i'll have a piece of you with me while i walk."
"you're wearing my clothes, you already had a piece of me with you," you tell him.
"yeah, but this one's just for me," he smiles. "plus the lipstick matches my jacket."
"y/n, you're on!" jen grabs you, a gleeful look on her face. "oh, your lipstick is smudged."
"i don't know how you planned that, but i hate you for it," you say as you try to hide your smile.
"i just thought it would be a cute touch for photos later," she smiles as she fixes the smudge and reapplies more. "i didn't know you'd go around kissing him, marking your territory."
"that's not what i did," you blush.
"we don't have time to argue about this," she pushes you toward the stage entrance. "go be great!"
-
you're able to introduce the collection without tripping or fumbling over your words, so you'll call that a win. even bigger win: the collection is a hit. each piece got the reaction you wanted, but the show stopper was definitely san. the crowd hushed when he walked out, and they went wild when he got to the end of the runway with his flourish move he showed you the other night. as you watch the show backstage, you blush when you see the lipstick mark shining under the bright lights.
it ends up being a hit, almost as much as the coat itself. fashion bloggers lauded it as a perfect touch, basically sealing the collection with a kiss. they also speculated about your relationship with san, which certainly wasn't helped by the fact that he held your hand tightly in his as the collection walked the runway all together. san lifted your hand in triumph as you made it to the end of the stage, and he lets go, stepping back so you can have your moment. you soak it in as long as you can take, then scurry back to his side and grab his hand as you run backstage. he lifts you into a hug as soon as the curtain closes behind you, surrounded by cheers and models talking about how great the show was.
"put me down!" you squeal, swatting at san's chest so he'll let you go. "i need to talk to everybody."
"you can do it from up there," san says. you don't think you'll win this one, and he's right. it might be easier to address your models and your team from a few inches higher up.
"first of all, thank you," you say sincerely. "i wouldn't have a show without you all, and i had the best show because of you all. so thank you. if i could make you all vow to only ever work with me forever until the end of time, i would, but that's not ethical. so instead i'll say: you all have a spot in any show i do for the rest of my career. thank you. thankyouthankyouthankyou."
the crowd thins out as models get undressed, artists pack up their things, and the stage crew follows everyone around to remind them to clean up after themselves. miraculously, you and san are alone again.
"so," he hums. "i walked good?"
"you didn't trip," you nod.
"everyone loved it," san smiles.
"they loved you," you say, busying yourself with straightening the coat again.
"all i care about is what you thought."
"i've told you already," you start. "you're perfect."
"you say that, but earlier i think you were about to turn me down," san laughs nervously.
"what?" you're confused. "oh, i didn't finish. i was gonna say i can't go out with you tonight, but i'm free tomorrow."
"tomorrow? you'd make me wait so long?" san smirks.
"i have a business dinner to go to tonight," you explain. "so unless you wanna be my arm candy for the people who sponsored the show, then yes, you have to wait so long."
"i'm good at being arm candy," san says. "it's basically my job."
"fine," you shrug. "then put a shirt on and come with me?"
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5xlwriter · 20 days ago
Text
Feedist Kinktober: Ex-Model
Part of a series of one-shots in response to @fatguarddog’s Feedist Kinktober 2024 prompts. I see this as a double response to the prompts Runway Ready and Wardrobe Woe.
“Thanks for your time, Brett,” I said, feigning a smile as I looked up from my clipboard. “We’ll call you!”
The muscle-bound hunk nodded cockily and pulled back on his stringy gymrat vest, giving us one last glimpse at his abs in the process before turning and leaving the audition room. His firm glutes shifted in his shorts as he vanished through the doors. I sighed.
Of course, there was no denying that Brett was absolutely gorgeous. He knew it, I knew it, anyone who saw him knew it. And while I might be tempted to call him up for a hookup, there was no way he was getting a callback for this show. He just didn’t have the right look.
The designer, Cherish Misère, was dark, edgy and honestly, kinda goth. There’s a lot that can be achieved with makeup and styling, of course, but nobody’s going to buy that with a jock like Brett. We were looking for skinny guys, with longer slender limbs and angled faces that we could make gaunt with contouring. Brett just didn’t fit the bill - and neither did many of the other hopefuls I’d seen that day. Ugh, Cherish was gonna kill me.
I huffed another deep sigh as I flipped the page on my clipboard, and then was stopped in my tracks at the photo attached to the next profile. That curly brown hair, those sharp, boyish features, those dark, arresting eyes… Tristan!
What a godsend! Tristan was absolutely perfect for the show. Cherish would eat him up, and all the clothes would fit like they were made for him. He and I had been students together. We’d studied Media & Communications and had gotten along well, but drifted in the couple of years since we graduated. He’d always modelled to raise funds when we were at uni, seeming to never need to hold down a real job as a result - but the last I heard, he was now skyrocketing up the corporate ladder, while I was sat here auditioning himbos for D-rate shows at the Fashion Week Fringe. It’s the sort of thing that would usually fill me with so much embarrassment that I’d find an escape route - we gays always compare ourselves to our peers - but in this instance, I didn’t care. I was just glad to finally have found some actual talent! The day was not a complete waste after all.
“Bring in the next one,” I called to my assistant and tried to make myself look as relaxed as possible. I was going to feign surprise, like I’d been caught off-guard. I needed to look busy and important. I sat up straight, eyes fixed on my clipboard until I heard someone shuffle in front of me.
“Hey, Rick!” He announced. His voice was just as I remembered it, but… maybe a touch deeper?
I looked up, ready to burst into a big smile and announce what a pleasant surprise it was to see him again. But then, I really was caught off-guard. My thoughts ground to a halt, leaving an uncomfortable pause as my brain scrambled to register what was going on.
My assistant intervened. “Um, Rick, this is…”
“—Tristan!” I interjected, finally managing the smile I’d been preparing, though I’m not sure how convincing it came off. “What a surprise!”
The surprise was that Tristan was fat. OK, that was maybe a little dramatic - he wasn’t fat fat. But I guessed him to be at least 50 or 60lbs heavier than the 135lbs he listed on his modelling profile - which made him gay fat. I couldn’t believe it!
I was so conflicted. On the one hand, I was a little ashamed to admit that part of me loved seeing perfect Tristan let himself go like this. He had always been nothing but kind to me, so it was completely mean-spirited of me, but I couldn’t help being jealous of all his achievements. It was nice to finally have one up on him, having maintained my own figure - heck, maybe even improved it? - since graduating.
On the other hand, there was no way I could cast Tristan with him looking like this. I could tell just by looking at him that it would take a small miracle to squeeze him into anything Cherish made, which meant I’d just lost my star model just as quickly as I thought I’d found him.
That, I had to worry about later. For now I had to finish this encounter with my old friend, let him down without hurting his feelings, and maybe find out what had caused him to blow up. Maybe he was depressed?
He didn’t look depressed. He was smiling that famously enchanting smile of his, which now showed off the beginnings of a double chin. I made my way over to give him a hug.
“Heh, I thought you didn’t recognise me!” He said as he wrapped his softer arms around me. He was squishy all over.
“Of course I recognise you,” I said, trying to brush it off. “It’s so good to see all of you— I mean, to see you, it’s so good to see you…” Fuck.
Tristan didn’t seem to notice - or if he did, then he didn’t seem to mind. I was happy with either. We pressed on with the pleasantries, Tristan telling me about his latest promotion whilst I did my best to make my own job sound interesting. In truth, it was great catching up with him… Tristan was just so charming, and even with his fuller figure he just exuded a confidence and charisma that was unlike anyone I’d ever met… perhaps even more so then I remembered? He was definitely flirty, and somehow I found myself flirting back despite him no longer being my type.
I wasn’t quite sure how it had happened… Maybe it was witchcraft. Maybe I felt sorry for him. Or maybe it was just that trademark smile that he kept flashing me, undampened by his rounder face…
“I think you’d be a great fit!” I said, the words leaving my mouth without my permission. My brain protested but my lips kept moving. “We’ll see you Monday for the fittings, so we can get things taken in if we need to.” What the fuck was I saying? What was I doing?
As Tristan left with his paperwork, I caught the confused look on my assistant’s face and buried my head in my hands. Cherish was going to fucking kill me.
***
Monday came around fast. In that time, I’d managed to assemble a motley crew of gangly young men to model Cherish’s collection. None of them had walked a runway in their lives, nor did they really have the face card needed for a career in modelling, but they were the best I could rustle up with Fashion Week on the horizon.
We’d started the morning with runway rehearsals and trying to get some charisma out of these boys was like getting blood from a stone. I was relieved that Tristan hadn’t shown up. I figured he had come to the realisation that he quite literally wasn’t a good fit for this, and had decided to silently slink away, saving me a difficult conversation. Now all we had to do was avoid each other for the rest of our lives!
But no, it was never going to be that easy. Tristan arrived late, commanding attention as soon as he entered the studio, smiling and greeting his fellow models as he finished off the remainder of a large smoked salmon bagel loaded with cream cheese. Now there was someone with charisma. He didn’t even try. Nor did he try to excuse his tardiness. “We both know I don’t need practice at this!” he laughed warmly when we had a quiet moment together.
And he was right. He stomped the runway like a pro, showing each of the confused wannabes how it was done. He was the elephant in the room; he didn’t belong; and yet, he was putting them all to shame. I watched bitterly as he walked back up the length of the runway, noticing the slight jiggle and bounce in his body with each deliberate step he made. Ugh, I was not looking forward to this conversation…
Later, as we prepared for the session with wardrobe, I pulled Tristan to one side.
“Listen, Tristan, I need to talk with you,” I said, trying to sound both relaxed and in control. “You know I think you’re amazing, but I don’t think this is the right gig for you…”
Tristan raised an eyebrow for a moment, not sure what to make of what I’d said, before he burst out laughing. “Ha, yeah, good one Rick. Don’t worry, I’ll help the other guys get the hang of it. It’s not rocket science.”
I frowned. “No, Tristan, you don’t understand…” Ugh! I hated this! “I’m serious. I don’t think you’re the right… fit…” I couldn’t stop myself from glancing at his round midsection when I said it - only for a fraction of a second, but Tristan was quick enough to catch it.
“Oh…” he said, looking down at his body for a moment. “You think I’m too fat?” He looked hurt. I’d never seen him not radiating charm and confidence, but in the moment all of that dissipated. He looked like a little lost puppy. “I know I’ve gained a few… I’ve been working flat out at the office… But I didn’t think it was that bad…”
“It’s not!” I blurted out in a panic, desperate to backtrack. “You look great! Better than ever, actually. You look really healthy. That’s super in right now!” It was all lies, and I hated myself for it, but seeing that famous smile return to his face made it worth it.
And so Tristan was whisked off to wardrobe, where we tried to squeeze him into some of the pieces. I thought maybe, if we went with something layered, we could disguise his bulked up body and it might be OK. I was wrong.
Tristan was wearing a black ripped vest, designed to be tight even on a slender model, but practically painted onto him now and emphasising the ball of flesh at his waist. The fact it was ripped made him look like he’d burst out of it. When he moved his arms too high, a little slither of soft flesh would peek out the bottom. He wore a big leather trench coat, down to the floor, which I figured would do a lot of the heavy lifting in making Tristan look presentable - except, we couldn’t fasten it shut over his middle. And on his bottom half, he just wore his underwear and socks, as absolutely nothing that Cherish had designed would slide over his newly thickened thighs and ass.
Fortunately, Tristan may have been oblivious to how much he’d grown, but he wasn’t stupid. He knew this wasn’t going to work. Quietly, he wrestled himself out of the tight garments we’d given him and began to change into his own clothes. I kept my distance and tried to focus on the other boys. Later, as Tristan was leaving, I followed him out.
“Hey Tristan,” I called. “Wait up!” He turned to face me, and was still smiling, but he looked tired and pensive.
“Thanks for the opportunity, Rick! Sorry it didn’t work out.” He said, before surprising me by tapping his softer middle. “Guess I’ve been neglecting the gym!”
“Don’t worry about it, T,” I said. “You still look great and you can definitely work it off — if you want to,” I paused for a moment, hesitating as I decided whether to say what I was about to say. “Or… In the meantime, my friend runs this other company…” I handed him the card.
“Max Macdonald - Plus Size Agency”, Tristan read off the card. He sounded unsure and I thought I might have offended him again, but eventually he pocketed the card. “Thanks, Rick,” he said, giving me a quick hug. “See you around!”
***
As it happened, I never did see Tristan again. It had been four years since our awkward encounter when I found myself in a bar, catching up with my old friend Max, who I also hadn’t seen in years. Being an adult sucked!
Max had been vocally admiring a large man at the bar, telling me in great detail why this stranger’s corpulent body was so superior to the kind of talent I represented. (I’d learned my lesson and played to my strengths, now I had my own agency and was exclusively representing muscle-bound Greek Gods for high-profile names.)
None of it surprised me. Max had always been unashamedly into big guys, despite being in good shape himself. I’d seen him go through many boyfriends - usually they were varying degrees of fat, but sometimes there was a twink or two. They’d soon start to bulk up around him and usually this was when they wised up to his feeder ways and dumped him. He didn’t seem to care, and I always loved that about him. I definitely didn’t share his tastes, but I respected his unabashed commitment to them all the same.
And it seemed to be working out for him! After all, it was his love of big men that had led him to start the plus size agency that was now getting him contracts all over the world.
“Oh my god!” Max said, nearly spitting out his beer as a memory seemed to hit him like a truck. “I can’t believe I didn’t tell you!” He was laughing hysterically and I pressed him urgently for more details. Max was a great storyteller and I found myself eager to hear his tale.
“A few years ago, I was approached by this dude,” he started. I nodded. “He was young, super handsome and charismatic like no one else! He told me you’d sent him.” I paused, knowing instantly that he was talking about Tristan, though I didn’t let on. I wanted to see where this was going.
“He said he was interested in some modelling with me. I told him, ‘look man, you’re gorgeous and you’ve got it, but you’re not exactly plus size’…” He took another swig of his beer. “He was like 200lbs at most. At most!”
I laughed along. “Haha, yeah, sorry about that. I didn’t really know where else to send him. He was too fat for us, but clearly not fat enough for you!” I took a sip of my drink, feeling a little bad for leading Tristan towards more rejection.
“Not then he wasn’t!” laughed Max. I didn’t like the tone in his voice… it was… mischievous. He was relishing in this story. “But I bumped into him a couple of years later at a chub event downtown. I didn’t recognise him at first but he came right over and introduced himself… all 350lbs of him!”
“No fucking way!” My mouth dropped to the floor as my mind raced at a hundred miles an hour, trying to imagine how big a 350lb person would look… How big a 350lb Tristan would look! That more way more than twice the size he’d been at uni.
“Yes way, he was just in a jock strap and a leather harness, shaking and jiggling all over the dance floor. There was no hiding it. He wasn’t the fattest person there by a long shot - a couple of guys were almost twice as big as him - but everyone in the joint wanted to fuck him.” He sat back and smiled smugly, looking very pleased with himself.
I gasped. “You didn’t!”
“I did!” he said, a big grin on his face. “And it was great. Like really great. Man, I had to fucking work for it though. He asked if we could stop for something to eat on the way back to my place - and we did, three times!” He clearly found the story hilarious. “I paid for the lot… Worth it though!”
I was in shock, no longer finding it funny but trying my best to play along. I couldn’t believe that had happened. Maybe Max was just exaggerating. 350lbs? Surely not…
“So, did you end up signing him?” I asked.
“Nah,” said Max, looking a little solemn before finishing his drink. “When I woke up the next day, he’d vanished without a trace and I never saw him again…”
I was about to interject, to empathise for Max, and to tell him how shitty that was, but Max held up a hand to stop me. He wasn’t finished. That big grin had returned to his face and he fished his phone from his pocket.
“I never saw him again until last week…” he said, quickly navigating his home screen to pull up one of his fetish community apps. It didn’t phase me - like I said, Max had always been very open about this stuff.
“I was swiping through the other day when I saw this prize-winning pig…” he was practically giggling as he showed me the phone screen. It was a video, captioned with just two words: “Almost 500lbs”, with a pig nose emoji for emphasis. In the video, an absolutely enormous man was wearing a far too tight black half-zip sweater over a black t-shirt. He was standing close to the camera, with his head cut off by the frame. The strained clothes clung tightly to every curve, roll and fold on his fat frame: his giant tits threatened to burst out of the sweater (the zip of which would never fasten around his fat neck), while about 20cm of pure fat belly hung out the bottom, his gluttony on full view.
Why was Max showing me this? There was nothing to suggest this was Tristan. I became increasingly convinced that this was a practical joke. There was no way that someone who used to look like Tristan now looked like… this.
But then, the whale in the video took a few steps backwards as he jiggled his huge gut for the camera, and his fat face came into view. My world stopped for a moment: it was Tristan, no doubt about it.
Had I seen this veritable blob in the street, I would never have recognised him as my old friend. But I had been primed to see him, and see him I did: even though his sharp and boyish features were now buried under blubbery cheeks, there was no mistaking the charismatic allure of those eyes, which now seemed small and beady in his fat face. All the movement in his gut caused a loud burp to erupt from his mouth, and the smile that followed it as he looked upon his body with appreciation was unmistakably his. Even when being absolutely disgusting, something about Tristan was still so confident, so irresistible… he was magnetic.
“These are the clothes I was wearing when we first met back up,” he said to someone off screen, who chucked back. I recognised that laugh… “Can you believe that was only a year ago?”
“No,” came the familiar voice, as two arms entered the frame and began to pull off Tristan’s clothes, revealing his flabby body in all its perverted glory. The arms and voice belonged to someone older than Tristan by about 15 years. They were reasonably toned and thick with hair, and the strong-looking hands took big handfuls of Tristan’s tits and flesh, shaking it and making his whole body wobble. Then the anonymous figure moved into the screen, kissing Tristan on his big, fat cheek.
I almost dropped Max’s phone and had to do a double take. Was that our fucking professor?! He looked a little older than I remembered him, which was natural, but I was sure it was him.
“…but you’re nearly 100lbs bigger since then, so that’s not surprising,” he said seductively, bringing a cream filled bun up to Tristan’s lips. His mouth opened dutifully and made short work of the pastry, which got swallowed down into his giant gut.
“And why do you think that is?” huffed Tristan, rubbing his belly and stifling another burp. He looked so cocky and sure of himself… more than that, he looked like he was worshipping himself.
“Because,” said our old professor. “You’re a spoiled piggy who gets whatever he wants.”
82 notes · View notes
dayoldtea · 2 years ago
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INSTAGRAM BLURB
pairing: harry styles x brazilian!famous!reader
fc: bruna marquezine
a/n: this is long
..
2012
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2016
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liked by harrystyles, selenagomez and 12,517,882 others
yourinstagram Wow! I can't believe it's been a year of @ipanema 🇧🇷 My favorite childhood memories are connected to the summer, the sun and the sea, and with every new design designed, be it bikinis or accessories, I feel a little more connected to that little girl who counted the days until the weekend, because it meant my feet would touch the warm sand of Ipanema Beach again. So much has happened in one year and I can't wait to see what the future holds for us! Thanks for all the support so far, it means the world and I can't wait for you to see our new designs!! 💚💛 Head over to @ipanema to get 30% OFF the entire store! Limited birthday discount! ☀️
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user81 she's so pretty 😭
user61 harry liked the post just a few seconds after yn posted it 😃
⤷ user42 this man has her notifications turned on, i swear to god
user21 okay harry, we get it
user34 i'm so proud of you
user12 this is what i think i look like
user55 all right yn, here's my whole paycheck
harrystyles congratulations ❤️
liked by yourinstagram and 3,018,164 others
⤷ user96 WHAT
⤷ user48 HARRRRYYYYY
⤷ user82 QHWIOWHWEIWOWJAKAKALAKA
⤷ user10 i bet he sent this comment and then threw the phone out the window
⤷ user02 the poor man has been waiting for an answer for almost five years 😭 #prayforharry
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liked by user7, user55 and 717,011 others
harry_update HARRY AND Y/N/Y/L/N TONIGHT IN LA!!! I REPEAT: HARRY AND Y/N/Y/L/N TONIGHT IN LA!!!!!!!!!
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user44 FINALLY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
user06 i love how the whole fandom was just rooting for harry to finally take her on a date
user71 i feel like a proud mother
user92 THE WAY HE'S HOLDING HER
user66 omg twitter must be collapsing
user04 y/n/y/l/n is the only woman who can keep harry styles waiting five years for a date
user12 when a latina wins, all latinas win along with her 🥳
user29 THIS IS SO ADORABLE 😭😭
user73 am i the only one who doesn't want them to be together?
⤷ user40 yes
⤷ user33 yes
⤷ user81 yes
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liked by taylorswift, niallhoran and 31,981,277 others
harrystyles I finally got that call
harrystyles has disabled comments
2017
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liked by user10, user20 and 471,839 others
ynandharryupdates the puppy appearing on harry's lap in the kiwi music video was a gift from him to yn. welcome, oat!
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user63 CRYING
user99 so lovely 😭😭
user03 i'm sure it was yn's idea to have puppies in the video lol
⤷ user62 that's exactly what i thought 😂
user55 harry is so whipped, and i am so happy for him
user30 this is the most adorable puppy ever
user44 he's smiling for the camera
user52 just a few days ago yn said on a live stream that she missed having a pet at home, but that she didn't know how she would manage since she had upcoming projects that required long trips. it seems that harry decided that they should share custody 🥺
2018
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enews Harry met with his girlfriend's parents, the brazilian actress and businesswoman Y/N/Y/L/N, this morning at a hotel in Rio de Janeiro. Some sources say that Y/L/N's absence in her homeland is associated with projects she is working on.
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user53 something about harry taking advantage of his concert schedule in brazil to see yn's parents even if she is not present makes me weak in the knees
user88 i'm so looking forward to yn's next works! hope to see her acting again soon ❤️
user94 yn taught him to speak portuguese? yn's parents speak english? i'm so curious now lol
⤷ user51 yn's parents speak english! they had to live in the usa for a while to accompany her to the auditions when she was still a minor (nowadays her mother teaches english at a school in brazil, btw).
⤷ user53 yn's parents speak english, but harry said in an interview with nick grimshaw for bbc music that yn was teaching him portuguese so he could communicate with her parents via facetime
⤷ user94 pls this is so cute! thanks for the explanation
user06 knowing how much yn loves going to rio and being close to her family, i'm sure she felt bad for not being able to accompany harry to his shows in brazil, so seeing him close to her parents must make her very happy ❤️
2019
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liked by harrystyles, zendaya and 32,967,501 others
yourinstagram Euphoria coming soon to HBO.
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arianagrande YAAAAAA I CANT WAIT
user25 MAIN CHARACTER
user52 soooooo gooood
annetwist gorgeous
user18 i am so excited for this
harrystyles I couldn't be prouder! te amo, H x
⤷ yourinstagram love u too, H ❤️
⤷ user44 literal parents
⤷ user83 i'm so single 😃
⤷ user90 crying as i question my existence
user02 FREAKING OUT
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liked by yourinstagram, harris_reed and 28,853,481 others
harrystyles FINE LINE . THE ALBUM . DEC 13
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gucci ❤️
user43 thank you @yourinstagram
user88 IM FUCKING READY OH MY GOSH
user06 what about medicine, sir??????????
user14 can't wait to listen and then look for theories about which songs are about yn
user62 i'm so proud
yourinstagram i know i've said this about a million times now, but you make me more and more proud every day. te amo! ❤️
⤷ harrystyles love you more my sunflower muse, H x
⤷ user91 SOBBING
⤷ user54 SUNFLOWER IS ALREADY THE BEST SONG
⤷ user09 imagine being harry styles' muse 😃
user91 WTF IS ERODA
2020
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liked by user86, user31 and 581,740 others
harryflorals All accessories and swimwear used by the models in the watermelon sugar video are part of the new collection of yn's swimwear brand, @ipanema. According to the brand's website, the pre-sale will be available tomorrow.
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user60 SHE IS THE MOMENT
user23 talented, brilliant, incredible, amazing, show stopping, spectacular, never the same, totally unique, completely not ever been done before
user51 I KNEW
user45 I LOVE IT
user78 this song, this video… everything screams yn 😃
user64 the way she always uses harry to promote herself
⤷ user13 what? yn's brand was extremely popular even before she started dating harry. shut up.
user05 IT COUPLE
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ynshine just leaving this here
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user12 the cutest
user44 my parents
user25 i just love them
yourinstagram @harrystyles
⤷ harrystyles darling, i can explain…
⤷ user62 SCREAMING
⤷ ynshine the user of this account is dead
2021
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liked by lizzobeeating, gemmastyles and 14,368,001 others
harrystyles late night talking
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liked by harrystyles, mitchrowland and 20,014,613 others
yourinstagram loving on tour
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user61 SUPPORTIVE GF
user18 i'm obsessed with her
user11 hi, yn! idk if you remember me or if you will see this comment, but i was at the harry concert last night and ended up having a serious anxiety crisis due to the crowd. i was unaccompanied, and as much as the other girls next to me tried to help me, there wasn't much they could do. idk how, but you saw me from somewhere near the stage, offered me water and a safe place to stay until the show was over. i had saved up for many months for this show, and if it wasn't for you, my anxiety would have completely ruined my whole experience. thank you for helping me and being the sweetest person ever ❤️
⤷ yourinstagram of course I remember you, dear! hope you are feeling better, take care! ❤️
⤷ user69 literal angel
⤷ user16 harry is so lucky
user82 i love this relationship so much
user36 i was already crying when I read the caption
2022
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liked by zendaya, annetwist, and 37,8941,241 others
harrystyles Harry's House. May 20th.
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user21 i cant
mtv i will never recover emotionally from this
billieeilish having a breakdown
user87 the message behind the name of the album and the photo he chose to promote it
user52 twitter crashed
user11 mom and dad
gemmastyles the all time favorite couple breaking the internet once again
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liked by user03, user93 and 921,729 others
harryflorals The exact moment Harry and Y/N see each other on the red carpet at the Venice Film Festival.
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user12 sobbing, crying, vomiting, screaming, blushing, banging my head on the wall, running in circles, pulling my hair out, sliding down the wall
user32 THEY'RE LITERALLY GLOWING
user76 after 10 years harry styles finally gets to live his fanfiction
user57 he's so in love with her
florencepugh SHE GOT THAT CINEMA
user97 GET MARRIED NOW
user50 thanks for the new wallpaper
user44 the real reason why i have high relationship patterns
user36 why didn't they go together?
⤷ user07 harry went earlier to accompany the cast of DWD
user09 the fact that harry is obsessed with her since forever just makes it even better
user80 SOULMATES
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inawickedlittletown · 3 months ago
Text
It's A Love Story (BuckTommy) - one-shot
Summary: You saw all kinds of things working at a restaurant. First dates. Failed dates. Proposals. Arguments. Break ups. The passing of secrets.
Or, the waitress at the restaurant Tommy and Buck go to for their first date likes to people watch.
BuckTommy Positivity Week Day 5: outsider perspective
Rated: G
Words: 2.9k
@bucktommypositivityweek
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Read on Ao3
You saw all kinds of things working at a restaurant. First dates. Failed dates. Proposals. Arguments. Break ups. The passing of secrets. People watching almost made up for the meager pay and the nights when few dine-ins meant less tips. Rachel was only working there until she managed to get the right role. That was something she’d been saying for years and she’d landed her fair share of commercials and done a few background characters here or there. Her boss was at least very understanding of her goals and willing to work around her auditions. It was better than she could have ever expected. 
People watching was fun too, especially for someone that was trying to hone the craft of emoting emotions well on film. The best people to watch were the regulars. On them you could see the human condition. A good day or a bad day played out differently. You got to see how things changed from a change in partner or family that grew or got smaller. A small insight into their lives. 
One guy, a guy that Rachel and her coworker, Casey, had named David after the Michelangelo statue, came in almost once a week. It was never on the same day, but he always ordered a medium pizza. It was always just the single pizza pie. It was always ordered over the phone and he paid in cash and nearly always left a tip in the jar. 
David was a bit of a mystery, but he was so hot that she, Casey, some of the other girls, and William tried to make conversation with him if they spotted him. Sometimes, when they knew it was his order, they made the kitchen wait to put it into the oven so they could get a bit more time with him. 
The problem with David was that he was hot and nice. He was tall, kinda built in a way that meant he could probably pick Rachel up without breaking a sweat. His jaw looked like it could cut glass and his cheeks were perfectly chiseled. He had an aquiline nose and on him it made absolute sense. What made it worse were his blue eyes and how sometimes his dark hair curled just a bit. 
He was always friendly, greeting them with a polite hello and a smile. He was always on his own and nothing about him gave away what he did. Casey thought he was or had been military. No ring on his finger told them he was unmarried. William had once gotten the courage to ask if he was seeing anyone. 
He’d gotten a crisp, “no” for his trouble. 
Casey had gotten him talking sports one night and since Rachel knew nothing about sports she hadn’t been able to tell if his opinions were good or not. 
Years went on like that and there was something absolutely lonely about the guy. The few times he ate in it was always on his own. 
On Wednesday afternoon when it was quiet enough that even William had gotten bored enough to start rearranging the shelves under the counter, David walked in. 
“Hi, how are you,” Rachel said at once. “Did you put in an order?” 
“Oh. No. Last minute decision,” he said. “I almost forgot I don’t have anything to eat at home. Can I just get a medium veggie?”
“Sure,” she said. “Fifteen minutes?” 
He gave a nod and took a seat at the counter. Rachel hated the counter seats because it meant having customers right within hearing distance, but she was changing her mind having David there. 
He propped his head on his hand. 
“Long morning?” Rachel asked. 
“Yes. Very,” he said. “I was supposed to get off work — at this point — ten hours ago. So now all I want is food and sleep.” 
He blinked lazily and left as soon as his food was ready. 
Rachel didn’t see him again for a few more weeks and then to her surprise when he next showed up on a Saturday night, he entered with another guy. He looked like he’d put a little more effort into his clothes than usual, not that he ever showed up looking like a slob. His friend was probably equally as hot as him. He had an interesting marking over his left eye and he was cute in a more approachable way than David. 
“It’s a date,” William said. “Haven’t I been saying for ages that David is gay?”
There was actually no telling if it was a date or not. Rachel hadn’t been lucky enough to have them sit in her section, but Casey was willing to recount everything she heard from the table. 
So in the kitchen they all got to hear about how the not-David guy was a bit of a rambler and was giving David a lecture on sea turtles of all things. David, according to Casey, didn’t seem to mind a bit. He seemed to encourage it. So far there was no telling if they were just good friends or on a date, but one thing was for certain, they seemed to be enjoying each other’s company. They drank almost two pitchers of beer between them by the time they asked for the check. 
“Rachel, he’s paying for the whole thing and he’s paying with card,” Casey whispered to her. 
“They’re on a date,” William threw in. “Also, look at his name on the card.” 
Rachel had to go deliver drinks to her table, so she returned after Casey had already processed the payment and returned the card to David. 
“Thomas,” Casey told her. “His name is Thomas Kinard.” 
Something weird did happen, then. Thomas’ friend seemed to get spooked for some reason, glancing around like everyone in the restaurant was looking at them. It wasn’t the other dinners as much as the wait staff but he didn’t seem to get clued into that. David — Thomas — was suddenly looking a bit more serious. 
Rachel went to lead a couple to their table when halfway there, the guy stopped in front of David’s — Thomas’ — table and he called out, “ Tommy!” 
So he went by Tommy. Rachel thought it fit him. His companion was named Buck apparently and Buck only managed to stiffen even more. Rachel didn’t hear everything that was said over the din of plates, cutlery, and conversation, but she could see that Tommy had gone a little flat. His companion looked even more panicked. They didn’t look like they even said another word to each other and then they got up to leave. 
“What is happening?” William asked. 
Rachel was taking care of her own table. The couple looked happy and the guy actually informed her that they’d just decided to move in together. 
“That’s nice,” Rachel said distracted by watching David — damn it, his name was Tommy — walk out with Buck. 
Rachel managed to sneak closer to the window to look out there and she saw them share a few words before Tommy, shoulders squared, got into a car and left his companion behind. Buck seemed frustrated by being left behind. He didn’t waste too long before he too departed. 
“If it was a date,” Rachel told William and Casey later, “I don’t think it ended well.” 
They saw Tommy again two weeks later. He wasn’t picking up his single pie, but two pizza pies, garlic knots, and an order of wings. He was all smiles and talked to William about having spent the day at the zoo. 
“Well that was unusual,” William said. 
After that he just kind of disappeared. He had either found a better pizza place or he’d given it up altogether. So, it was shocking when Tommy returned one Thursday night. He wasn’t alone. Buck, the guy he’d been eating with that one time was with him. They stood close to each other at the counter and Buck laid his hand on Tommy’s forearm. Tommy smiled at him. 
Tommy smiling made him look even more gorgeous. The skin around his eyes crinkled and he had the straightest, whitest teeth. No one had ever managed to get his job out of him and Rachel was starting to wonder if he was maybe some kind of model or actor. 
“So I suppose I have to thank you,” Buck was saying. 
“How do you figure that?” Tommy asked. 
“I think the muay thai helped a little.” 
Tommy laughed. “I doubt that. But I’m glad you were quick on your feet.” 
“The whole thing was nuts. Chim really saved the day catching the baby. I like when everything gets resolved in one shift.” 
“I know what you mean. You’re not left wondering.” 
“Exactly.” 
Rachel caught Tommy’s attention. He went to pay, but Buck pushed him back and extended his card to her. 
“Evan,” Tommy said. 
She looked between them as Tommy finally gave a nod. Evan looked a little smug and as he signed the slip he shot her a smile. 
“My boyfriend here is always trying to pay for everything,” he said. 
Boyfriend, he said. So William was right and it had been a date that time they were in before. And, clearly whatever happened at the end of the last date had been resolved. 
“That’s not a bad thing,” Rachel said. 
“Exactly,” Tommy said. 
“I’m not saying I don’t appreciate it,” Evan said and he glanced back at Tommy. “I’m just saying that you deserve to be taken care of too.” 
The look that Tommy settled on Evan was one that Rachel wanted to take and keep into her back pocket because it was infatuation and fondness and maybe even love rolled into one. 
They left still talking to each other and Tommy opened the door for Evan who carried their food. 
After that Tommy started showing up on his own again, but there was no telling if it was because he wasn’t dating Evan anymore or what. After all, sometimes he still did pick up a single pizza pie, but other times it was two or other things from the menu. Casey did report that she’d seen Evan stop by to pick up take out once or twice and that he was nearly always distracted by his phone when he did. 
It did take a while for Tommy and Evan to return together. It was, of course, on the night before Rachel’s big audition. It was for a new tv-show and for some reason they were looking for complete unknowns for the main cast. Rachel was hoping it’d be her big break. Her agent seemed to think she had a shot. 
So, she was a little distracted and running lines as much as she could. She was also lucky that Casey and William were both on shift because as long as it wasn’t busy they were willing to let her take up a table and just go over the lines again. Rachel would pay them back when William needed to sit and write whatever had popped into his head or when he needed to revise something he was turning in and Casey when she had a big test or finals to study for. 
Casey, as a lark, even sat them at the table next to her and winked at her. She rolled her eyes, but that didn’t stop her from eavesdropping. 
“It’s horrible,” Evan said in a tone that was almost whining. “Like I expected the worst, but it’s worse than that. But we can…we can talk about something else because I don’t even want to think about Gerrard anymore. He already takes up too much of my time. Can you tell me about your day?” 
“Lucy and Melton are feuding,” Tommy said. “I think he ate her sandwich by mistake a few days ago and she’s not letting it go. That’s as exciting as it gets around Harbor.” 
“Other than when you’re flying a helicopter. Maybe I really should think about transferring. After all the lessons have paid off.” 
“Uh…I’m not saying it’s not an option, but they kinda need you over there right now.” 
Evan laughed. “I know. I know. I think Eddie is growing a mustache and I don’t know if it’s in response to Gerrard or Chris. Either way, it’s weird.” 
“Evan, you can’t just say that and not have pictures.” 
“He’ll probably still have it when you see him for basketball tomorrow.” 
When the restaurant started getting a bit busy she had to get up and help with the takeout orders. So Tommy flew helicopters? She added that to the lore and passed the information on to William and Casey. 
It was almost a week after the audition when she heard back about a call back. A chemistry read. Two more auditions and then right in the middle of grabbing a take out order to pass to a customer her phone began to ring. 
“Casey, I gotta take this one.” 
Considering how noisy it was inside, she ran out to the front. It was twilight, the sky shot with a bunch of different colors as the sun went down. 
“Hello?” 
She paced the sidewalk in front of the restaurant and listened as her agent said a lot of things that lead up to, “you got it, Rach. You got the job.” 
Rachel didn’t know what noise she made, but her agent was laughing and Rachel was laughing. There may have even been some jumping up and down. 
“Thank you sooo much,” Rachel said into the phone. “I can’t believe it.” 
When she turned around, she saw Tommy and Evan walking out of the restaurant. They were smiling at each other, completely caught up in each other. 
“I didn’t think I’d ever want to come back here,” Evan said. “It was…it was an awful first date.” 
“It was not and I have no regrets.” 
“Still,” Evan said. 
Rachel smiled to herself as she watched them go. 
Rachel didn’t think about Tommy or Evan again after that. She had finally gotten a role on an actual tv-show. Her boss at the restaurant was cool about it and let her know she could come back if she needed to. Rachel didn’t wind up needing to even if that particular tv-show lasted all of one season. The doors had been opened to her, at least, and she had steady work. 
It was almost a full three years later before she stepped foot there again. William, and Casey had agreed to meet up for dinner and they decided it may as well happen where they had met and become friends in the first place.  
Soon after Rachel left, Casey had finished her degree and gotten a different job. William had stuck around a little longer until the script he’d been working on for years was finally picked up. They’d always kept in contact and William had kept them informed on the regulars that he still saw right up until he left. 
“Oh my god,” Casey said twenty minutes after they arrived. 
“What?” 
“Guess who just came in?”
Rachel almost didn’t even have to, but she turned anyway and there they were. Tommy and Evan. 
They were sat a few tables away which meant they couldn’t actually listen in, but they both still looked amazing. Both were smiling easily and didn’t seem to run out of things to say to each other. There was actually something sickening in how in love they looked. 
“What are the odds,” William said. 
“I know,” Rachel said. “But maybe we shouldn’t be creepily watching them all night.” 
Casey laughed. “I guess you know about that now.”
Rachel rolled her eyes. “I’ll die if anyone ever recognizes me from that show. One eight episode season and it was over. Haven’t had anything that big since.” 
Not that she was complaining, really. She was, after all, a working actor and she’d gone to a few auditions that seemed promising. One might mean having to live in Canada for a while, but she was at a stage in her career where she wouldn’t be passing anything up. 
“You will,” William said. “You’ll be the first I call if I ever get backing for my latest script.” 
They were catching up and Casey was giving them the gossip at her new job when silence seemed to fall over the restaurant. 
“Holy shit,” William said. 
At the same time, Tommy said, “Evan, I can’t believe you. Of course. Of course, yes.” 
Rachel turned at once. Evan was down on one knee next to the table and Tommy looked like he was going to start crying in his seat. In the next moment they were hugging and kissing and maybe even crying. 
“Now that is a love story right there,” Casey said. 
Rachel couldn’t help but think about Tommy back when they had named him David and how he had been such a constant every week or two. Always on his own, always ordering take out for one. How there had always existed a loneliness in him even while he was always kind, tipped well, and looked insanely hot. For years that had just been the norm. He never shared much about himself and small talk with him just always resulted in conversation about sports or a movie and nothing about himself. 
Bringing Evan that first time had shocked them because it was outside the norm, but looking at them with their big smiles, holding hands across the table, she was happy to have witnessed even a tiny bit of their story. She was sure there was a lot more. 
60 notes · View notes
dreamingofep · 30 days ago
Text
Forbidden Love pt. 8💔❣️
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Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)
Prompt: Reuniting with Elvis was supposed to be the highlight of your summer, but with unresolved tensions between you two, things aren't what they seem. [Fem!reader]
TW: Cussing, angst, some tension
Rating: Explicit
Word Count: 3.4k
A/N: Hi everyone! Posting in Elvis hours again! Hope you like where this next part is heading! More to build upon and can't wait to share with you what's next! I Hope you enjoy!
*
July 8th, 1969
The next few days felt like an eternal hell. It almost felt like you had to start your life over. It was lonely and quite depressing. You were so mad at Elvis for how he’s treated you after all these years and the other night was your breaking point. You thought a person could change but you might have been wrong. You didn’t want to talk to anyone about what happened over dinner. You kept to yourself for the next few days and no one seemed to mind. John didn’t bring up once why you stormed out of Elvis’ house. It was a better idea for him to do that. You didn't want anything to do with him. 
You had to get yourself out of this funk. You can either let this define you or do something else to make a difference in your career. You started taking fewer hours at the diner which was a scary choice because you knew it wasn’t going to be easy getting new auditions and getting booked for them. It had been three years since you’d gotten anything remotely interesting. You were afraid you didn’t have it anymore. 
You tried to push that negative energy out of your mind and focus on some good. You had to try and go out there. It was still your passion and something you would tirelessly work for. 
For the next few days, you set out for any audition you could find. You'd wake up early to go to the diner for a few hours, then change into new clothes to go search for audition notices around the city. There were quite a few you found and it made you feel hopeful one of these projects could be yours. 
You hadn’t spoken to Elvis this entire time. It was almost strange after you were so used to this new routine you two had. You had too much anger towards him to speak to him about everything without yelling at him again. You were surprised that he didn’t even try calling you. Every time the phone rang, you always expected to hear his smooth southern drawl ring in your ear but you were left disappointed. 
After a few days of nothing but empty promises and bad auditions, you had to keep trying. You knew there would be a hundred nos before there would be one yes. You were about to head out for the day and go to another audition you had scheduled when the phone rings. You were home alone and wondered who could be calling this time of day. 
You quickly pick it up, “hello?” 
“Hi, may I speak with y/n?” A woman’s voice says on the other end of the line. 
“Speaking?” You say, not recognizing the woman’s voice. 
“This is Nancy from Paramount Studios. We’re holding open auditions today for a new production. Your resume was passed onto us from a friend and we were wondering if you’re free to come in today around one?” She asks you. 
You were a bit taken aback. This was unheard of for you. No one was calling you for auditions, you were normally the one on the phone begging them for a chance to be seen. But you had to push that self-doubt away and seize this opportunity now. 
“Oh yes, I can be there no problem!” 
“Wonderful, we’ll see you then,” she says. 
You were thrilled, this could be a new start for you. Your brain couldn’t help but spoil the moment with doubt. This all felt too easy. You had only been out looking for new jobs for a few days and this fell into your lap? It didn’t settle with you, right? 
It had Elvis written all over it.  
He did something to get you this. Sure, it could be just dumb luck but with Elvis around, that wasn’t a thing. He needed to stay away from you, you didn’t want him around screwing up anything else for you. 
You raced to the studio and got there early to get your hands on the script they wanted you to read from. The audition went really well. The scene they had you do dealt with a girl pleading for her boyfriend to tell her the truth whether he loved her or not. It wasn’t too far off from your real life you realize. You connected with the script and let your emotions over your whole situation with Elvis fuel your performance. You left the soundstage feeling positive but still not that hopeful you had the role. It had been a while since you worked so you weren’t sure if your lack of work would hinder you. 
The next day, you get a call and it just about makes you scream with joy. You got the part and you needed to be on set in two days. You couldn’t be happier. It was a shorter production for your character but you didn’t mind it. You get to be on set for five days and do what you love. It was going to be a new start for you, just like you hoped. You had a new sense of optimism. Things were going to be alright, and maybe you needed Elvis out of your life for it.
That thought made your heart cry.
*
The first day of shooting went well and the entire cast and crew were wonderful to you. You had some jitters at first but they disappeared when you started to work with everyone. Everyone showed you respect and appreciation for showing up and being prepared for the day. 
You’re always surprised how much waiting there was when you’re on set. Your call time might say for you to be onset at three, but you won’t start shooting til four. That’s Hollywood for you. It takes the crew a while to set up the new camera or change locations. Thankfully you had the patience for this waiting game.
You weren’t called onto set for another three hours so you had time to kill. They were kind enough to give you a small trailer to get ready in that you shared with another co-star. It wasn’t like what the big stars got but you were thankful you had a couch in there you could take a nap in if you wanted. Sometimes you have to take advantage of the downtime and get a few minutes of sleep. You were going to be on set late today for scenes that were going to be shot at night so you needed the rest.
You lay down on the small, two-seat sofa and try to get comfortable. A knock on your trailer door snaps you awake and you sit up. You couldn’t have dosed off for more than a few minutes and became fearful that you overslept and they were looking for you on set.
“Come in,” you quip, straightening out your hair and smoothing the dress you had on.
Sunshine pours into the trailer and a tall shadow walks in. Your heart stops when you see his face. That beautifully sculpted face that people dreamed about was standing in your trailer. 
Elvis.
He wore tan slacks and a white button-up, looking at you like he did when he first saw you a few weeks ago. He looked so put together and effortlessly beautiful. His hair fell down on his forehead, just how you liked it. He wore these gold sunglasses that had his initials on the sides of the frames. He takes them off and his blue eyes melt into you. God he was beautiful, it shouldn’t be that distracting but he was! You blamed it on not seeing him for the last week that you were jarred by his presence but who were you fooling, he was just too damn beautiful to look at.
Your mouth goes dry as you stare at him longer, not expecting him to be here. 
“What are you doing here,” you say a bit coldly. 
He continues to stare at you and doesn’t say anything right away. 
“How are you, honey?” He asks softly. His voice has you melting. You curse at yourself for feeling this way for him. Even after everything he did, you still feel weak around him. 
“I’m fine,” you say softly. 
He stays quiet and looks around your small dressing room. You didn’t want him here lingering, he came here for a purpose and you wanted to get him out of here as quickly as possible. You also had things to get off your chest. You didn’t want him to stall or try to do anything drastic. 
“How much did you pay them to get me in this movie?” You ask him, crossing your arms against your chest.
He turns around quickly, confusion covering his face.
“What are you talking about?” He asks, taking a few steps closer to you, and taking off his sunglasses.
“Oh come on don’t play dumb, I’m not an idiot. I haven’t gotten an acting job in over three years. Then all of a sudden I get a call that I was recommended to them by someone? It doesn’t make sense,” you huff.
“I didn’t pay them, honey,” he says calmly.
“Stop calling me honey,” you snap, “and stop lying to me!"
His lips form in a scowl and his blue eyes burn into you menacingly. He stands before you and takes a slow breath in while looking at you. He makes you feel on edge, being this close to him again was too much to handle. He was so provocative without even trying. His presence pulled you in so easily and made it hard to focus even when he was mad. He gently lifts your chin up to look into his eyes. His skin on yours again made you feel like a puddle. You defiantly look at him and wait for him to say something.
“From what I remember, you like me calling you honey quite a bit,” he teases, eyeing you up and down slowly. You hold your breath as you feel yourself crumble for him. He was right, of course he was and it pissed you off. 
“I’m trying to be civil with you. I just wanted to see you,” he says low.
You quickly push his hand off of your face and scowl at him.
“Did you think this would make up for what you did? Like I’d forgive it all?” You ask him.
“I didn’t do anything about this role. I didn’t pay anyone anything,” he says fiercely. Your heart gallops away at his tone and the way he continues to look at you.
“I did pass your information to producers here, yes, I did. I still know people here and met with one of them last week for lunch. They were saying they were having a hard time casting this movie. He explained to me the role and… of course, I thought of you. It’s like second nature to me… but I just passed on your information, that’s all. I helped you get the call sure, but you did the work. You were the one who impressed all the producers and director. You got yourself here, I just wanted to help from a distance, that’s all,” he explains.
You sit down quickly on the couch behind you, feeling the wind get knocked out of you. 
He was just trying to do something good.
He did something kind and stayed out of the way.
He’s letting you shine and do what you love.
Damnit he's impossible to hate.
You didn’t know what to say to him. You felt bad for snapping at him like this. You’ve had so much pent-up anger towards him this last week you couldn’t think straight about the whole situation. The sight of him on a magazine cover in the grocery store ticked you off. The sound of his voice on the radio put you in a foul mood for the rest of the day and you almost always drove in silence because of it. You still hadn’t listened to his new album even though it was everything anyone was talking about.
The guilt wracked through you the longer you looked at him. You couldn’t find the words to start to apologize to him. He still put you through a lot of strife. This wasn’t going to make it all magically disappear but it was a good start.
“I… I didn’t know,” you say timidly.
He stays silent, letting you find the words you want to say.
“I appreciate the help,” you continue.
“It’s the least I could do… you know I care for you don’t you?” He asks, taking a seat next to you on the sofa. “I’ve missed you terribly. I hate not seeing you.”
He looks at you softly, his eyes pleading for you to keep looking at him. He places his hands on either side of your face and gently rubs him thumbs across your cheeks, studying every detail of your face. It felt so good to be touched by him again. He was so comforting and intoxicating to be around. He keeps staring at your lips, parting his slightly as you’re both sitting there and he leans in a bit more. Both of you breathe in sharply as you get closer.
You were nervous for this to go any further. On one hand, you wanted him to kiss you like he used to, you missed how his lips made you feel on fire. You wanted to let your guards down with him. A part of you wanted him to hold you in his arms again and hear him say how much he’s missed you. What you would give to hear him plead for you over and over and over…
You let that fantasy wither away and slowly pull your face out of his hands. You take a sharp breath in, you were holding it the entire time he was touching you. He looks like he just got his heart ripped out of him. He was so physical and emotionally hurt by you.
“I want to believe every word you say, but you have to understand why I have the hesitancy not to,” you sigh. His eyes fill with hurt as he looks at you.
He gets up and runs his hand through his hair, clearly frustrated even though you can’t see his face anymore.
“Please come by the house after you’re done here, so we can talk. I just want to talk to you again,” he says firmly as he heads for the door.
“Elvis I don’t think that’s a good idea,” you say, trying to stop him.
“Y/n please, I don’t want to fight with you here. Just come to the house after you're done here okay?” He says sternly.
“No, I’ll go over when I’m ready to talk to you. I have to be back here really early too so I can’t come by,” you snip.
“Goddamn it,” he mumbles under his breath and goes to the door furiously, not taking another look at you. The sound of it slamming made you more upset at yourself. You didn’t know what to say to him. It was hard to have him look at you with those soft eyes that could make you do anything. You didn’t want to talk to him about everything you’ve been feeling these last few days. You wanted more time to process this all. It wasn’t going to be easy to stay away from him.
*
The next few days on set were wonderful and went by too quickly. You wished you had more days to work with all the kind people in the production. Elvis weighed in the back of your mind though. All you could see were those hurt, pleading eyes of his that begged for your attention. It had been over a week since the huge fight you two had. You still weren’t ready to talk to him. You knew it would go the same way when you saw him in your trailer the other day. You didn’t want to blow up on him again, you needed to have a civil conversation. 
It was a sweltering night in LA. The city was experiencing a heat wave and wasn’t letting up for a few more days. You were looking forward to being in your air-conditioned apartment and relaxing. It was well after midnight and started to drive home. There was no traffic this time of night but the lights of office buildings in town poured onto the darker roads, illuminating your way home. 
You unlock the front door and feel the warm, stale air hit you in the face. It was also pitch black in there and couldn’t see a thing in front of you. John had to be home, he didn’t stay this late at Elvis’. 
“John?” You say loudly. The flick of a match makes you stare into the darkness, trying to see who’s in there. 
He was in the kitchen and stepped out, “yeah?” 
“Why are all the lights off? Why is it so damn hot in here?” You say grumpily. 
“The powers shut off,” he says lighting another candle. 
“What do you mean? Was there a blackout or something?” You say confused. 
“The bill wasn’t paid on time,” he grumbles. 
You were taken back. John took care of the rent and the electric bill. He made more than you and that’s just how you’ve always done it. He had never missed a payment like this, even in hard times. He never asked you for the money even if you two were having a really hard month.
“What do you mean? Elvis paid you right? You’ve been working three weeks for him. I’m sure that���s been plenty to pay the electric bill,” you press. 
“Well it wasn’t, we’ll figure it out in the morning.” He snaps at you, taking the candle to the bedroom with him. 
You knew he was lying. The man was lying right to your face. You just about had enough of it with all the men in your life lately lying through their teeth when talking to you.
You follow him to the other room, needing to understand what’s going on.
“Please don’t walk away from me. I don’t understand how we didn’t have money to pay the electric bill. This has never happened,” you press.
“I said I’ll figure it out in the morning! Get off my back about it. Should probably get used to it if you’re going to be out there acting again,” he huffs.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean? Are you blaming this on me?!” You protest.
“Well you’re not helping very much,” he snarls at you.
You look at him in disgust, not believing this is how the man you thought you loved is treating you.
“How dare you. You’re unbelievable, you know that. I know Elvis is paying you more than you’ve made in a long time so I don’t understand where our money is going,” you seethe.
“I guess it’s none of your concern since it’s not your money,” he barks at you.
You had enough. You couldn’t be anywhere near him at this point. You needed to know where all that money was going but you didn’t have the patience tonight to go back and forth with him. It was ridiculous the way he was talking to you. It seemed the happier you were, the meaner he was to you, sucking all the joy out of your life.
You quickly push past him and reach under the bed for your duffle bag. You open your closet and pull articles of clothing off the hanger and shove them into the bag. You then go to the dresser and put more clothes in there before rushing to the bathroom.
“Where are you going?” John asks annoyed.
“I can’t be here. I’m going to stay at a friend's tonight,” you snap.
“Come on,” he says dumbfounded, pulling at the duffle bag, trying to get it out of your hands.
You quickly pull it back though and don’t let him get it out of your grasp.
“No, I’m going. I’m tired of your shit,” you yell, quickly getting out of his sight. You rush out of the apartment and get back in your car. You drive almost on autopilot, leaving your neighborhood and driving up to the Hollywood hills, towards Elvis.
*
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Tagging: @loving-elvis @neptuneismysister @velvetelvis
@ccab @presleyenterprise @theresalwaysep
@sillybookmarks @dkayfixates
@ellie-24 @rktismylife-blog
@myradiaz @tacozebra051
@18lkpeters @flwrs4aust @emma181873
@austinswhitewolf @eliseinmemphis
@everythingelvispresley @chasingwildflowers
@idontwanttoputanything @ohjustpeachy-
@elvisalltheway101 @austinsmutler @kingdomforapony.
@generoustreemystic @claire-elvisgirl
@ashtag6887 @burnthheparaphilia @richardslady121
@jaqueline19997
@returntopresley. @iloveelvis @rjmartin11 @that-hotdog
@louisejoy86 @misspresley @cattcb @annapresley8
@arrolyn1114 @raginginkedslut @epthedream69
@mh777ep1938
@50sexyshadestashionista
@oldhOllywOod @hooked-on-elvis @livelovedilfs
@sloppiest-of-jos @thisis-theway @gatheraheart
@aphroditebabygirl @faeolwen
40 notes · View notes
maimurariki · 9 months ago
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Open arms, SZA.
𝖯𝖺𝗂𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀: Idol!nrk x Idol!reader
𝗚𝗲𝗻𝗲𝗿𝗲: fluff
𝗪𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁:
𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: none, I cried while making this
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making your way into this survival show sure as hell wasn’t easy. Pre-auditions, multiple monthly evaluations, just too much for you. You stuck to your promise with Niki when you told him that you’d make it to idol status with him. years of being a trainee at hybe, 3 years after Niki debuted, you finally made it onto a survival show.
First couple of episodes were hectic, your rankings were going up and down, repeating the same cycle for the next week or so. you fainted constantly off camera, working your ass off in the hybe practice rooms with other people that weren’t guaranteed a debut just like you.
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there were 10 contestants left on stage, you began to grow nervous. there were five people to be picked, you didn’t know that you had the most votes out of everyone there. You hands became sweaty, your breathing became unsteady, you were shaking.
five people were slowly asked to leave, being eliminated in the final selection. You were last left on stage. Sure, this was for a five member girl group, but they could easily change it to four.
that’s when…. You heard your name being called to come up front with everyone else. You immediately fell to your knees, hot tears streaming down your face as confetti fell from the ceiling. Your future group members surrounded you with hugs, almost crying with you. It didn’t feel real. You didn’t think you’d even make it this far. When you were told you had the highest votes, you cried even more. You soon gave a speech, thanking the eliminated members for being so caring towards you.
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The judges all left, all the fans left too. It was just you while your new members were celebrating back stage. You stood facing all those empty chairs, still in disbelief that you actually made it.
“I knew you were gonna make it.”
You turn around to see Niki, your number one fan since pre debut. you immediately ran into his arms, tears starting to form again.
He put his arms around you in response, petting your head.
“I….I did it… I can finally be with you now.” You said between sobs, hugging him tightly as if he was gonna go away anytime soon.
“anytime you need any help with dancing n stuff like that… I’ll be right here. With open arms.”
“you keep me open.”
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If I ever get to hug him I will fully break down. I love riki sm.
135 notes · View notes
grapejuicestyless · 1 year ago
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Unforgettable
Harry Styles x fem!reader
Summery: Y/n Y/l/n is a classic rockstar with a magnetic pull and a bad reputation with men to her name. Turns out Y/n might not be such a bad girl after all and the men she used might have not been the truth.
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Pages bursted from every seam of her notebook, littered in scribbled lyrics of failed beginnings, one night stands and the most innocent poetry writings that reflected the opposite of the devilish woman behind the pencil marks.
Everything about her was shiny. Her glittery deep purplish blue eyeshadow and the highlight on the tip of her nose to the glistening sweat that dripped underneath her top.
She was messy, yet so detailed. Every hair out of place seemed to fit perfectly a top her head. The lazy smear of lipgloss and eyeshadow applied carelessly yet laying in such way that it almost looked intentional.
It was that careless attitude that was so magnetic about her. The rockstar exterior she possessed attracting the innocent into her wild web of her craft.
But, despite her rockstar complexion and her love life reputation, the girl had an undeniable talent that could not be ruined by the poor press that swirled her name.
So it could only be fitting to place the most standout woman there into the cleanest band reputation wise. It was humorous, when it was announced. Y/n Y/l/n, joining Harry Styles for his long awaited Love On Tour.
Harry, who had hand picked her from the bunch of bassists waiting to wow him, was immediately aware of her presence. Her look sharp and eye catching, but her talent even better. She had a skill for her craft that nobody else was even able to come close to achieving. It was almost destiny she had shown up, notebook stuffed full of sloppy writing and bass scratched from her frustration.
Truthfully, Y/n hadn’t really longed to be placed into the band. She didn’t exactly enjoy the bright pinks and pop music that blasted through the speakers. She had only gone to the audition because she had been itching to play. Having traveled the world with some of the biggest inspirations, and by herself on a successful world tour a couple years ago, Y/n found herself bored in her home for so long. She was just about ready to go out a preform to a room filled with angry elderly people who hated all loud noises. Anything to give her the thrill of being in front of the crowd again.
So, when she was emailed one August evening, detailing of an audition for a bassist to join a well known artist on stage, she pushed aside her unfamiliarity with the genre.
It wasn’t that Y/n disliked pop music, it just wasn’t her favorite. She’s spent most of her time closer to a soft rock sound, pulling from past inspirations and old sounds that could be reworked into her work. The glitz and glam of the fresh and new sounding pop music was only something she hadn’t really gotten into, explaining why she felt more nervous than glad she was selected.
Yet, her ability to adjust and charm her way through her lack of experience within the genre was enough to keep her going, placing her where she was now. Standing next Harry, under the intense lights of Madison Square in the middle of one of the hottest summers to date.
A year had passed, just about, since Y/n first stepped onto the stage, her bass slung around her neck with a tattered strap that was practically molded to her shoulders. She gave a good amount to the band, adding in bass lines that ascended the songs into a better form of themselves. Making sure not to overpower the other instruments, but to lift them up and amplify how they sounded collectively as a band.
“That was good, that sounded great actually!” I turned back, the side of my lip pressed into the surface of the microphone. My hands found their way around the cord, untangling it to gain some more movement around the stage.
“Why don’t we recollect, get some water and stretch out?” I shot a thumbs up to the sound guy, who had been playing around with some switches behind a small barricade farther back in the arena. After the go ahead was given, the lights dimmed to a soft glow on top of the stage and the heat seemed less intense.
“No way, that’s so cool! Where did you find that, I’ve been having so much trouble looking for a new bass recently.” Her voice was slightly raspy, deeper too, I noticed from the dryness that I assumed was itching at her throat.
I watched her toss her head back, lips wrapped around the plastic water bottle until it crinkled beneath her hands and was left with nothing more than a few stray drops of water pooling at the bottom.
Elin, who she had been conversing with enthusiastically, seemed to match her energy precisely, showing Y/n the same amount of excitement over the new piece of equipment. Eyes gleaming with interest and passion over the topic. It felt warming knowing that work felt less like an obligation but instead was a privilege.
A close knit family that brought a dopey smile to my face at only the thought of it. I listened to them and there insane energy inconspicuously, eyes avoidant of the women and instead settled on the ledge between Sarah’s drums and where the trumpet players would stand later that night where the nearest supply of water was.
From afar, underneath the sound in my head of my aggressive swallowing of water, it sounded like the pair were dispersing. The conversation ended with a faint laugh that dwindled out the longer the conversation ended.
It was a true laugh, sincere. Almost a belly laugh but just not quite there yet. The sound so familiar it was instantly pinned in my mind as Y/n’s.
The common misconception about Y/n was that she was shallow, unfeeling and unknowing of basic relationships and proper manners. The media had poorly labeled the innocent woman, her lyrics thought to be too provocative and explicit. Too in depth and detailed that gossip accounts were ready to start this false narrative about the most undeserving person of the hate.
Maybe it was her careless expressions after completing a hard bass line, or her rockstar style that made her such an easy target for the untrue opinions and thoughts. She had that old grungy thing about her that both made her desirable and criticized, yet she made it work.
Y/n was the sun, in my eyes. A bright, young woman with wisdom beyond her years and heart so full it was overflowing with empathy and sympathy. Her lyrics reflected her past experiences, like any other artist. Her failed relationships that left her in the darkness and her distantly timed hook ups to fill the cold loneliness beside her bed.
Truthfully, she was more like the rest of the industry than any gossiper could comprehend. Her writing abilities expressed so freely, so vulnerable that it caused that discomfort, that pit in the listeners stomach forming with each song she put on her albums. The real truth was that she wasn’t some shallow, sex driven girl who dated guys to write about how they did her wrong. She was a loving woman who loved everyone more than life and was overly naive. She dated trying to find someone who could understand her like she understood everyone else. She spoke what was on her mind completely true and unfiltered constantly. Not fearful of the backlash her opinions would bring. That’s what continues to draw me to her throughout our time together.
“Hey, Harry.” Her voice was sweet, laced with honey and dripping in sweetness. I barely noticed her touch on my shoulder until I looked down at her guitar string scarred hands and found myself smiling.
“What’s up, Angel? What’s going on?” I turned my back to her, head thrown over my shoulder to look back to her face while my hands worked on screwing on the cover to my water bottle.
“You know, the usual. Just wanted to tell you I thought that note change during Sign of the Times was beautiful. You should go for those higher notes more often, you hit them every time.” She was completely honest in her opinions, which is why I held her words dear to my heart.
Y/n had no issue telling me what she thought. She was rather quick to give pointers of what worked better and how to substitute those notes that were strained and uncomfortable. Yet, she did it with such a down to earth point of view. She remained humble, even if everyone here knew she had talents beyond all of ours. She acted like she was just as good as the rest of us, like we were equals.
“I know, it’s just hard with so many people around. Don’t want to fall flat and ruin it.” Shrugging, we walked together to the stairs at the edge of the stage.
“Don’t psych yourself out, Styles. You nail those notes all the time. Your range is unbelievably complex. You have that ability to hit the higher notes every time.” She placed her hand in mine, following me down the stairs cautiously as the last one was always less steep than the rest, causing mishaps occasionally.
“I’ll keep that in mind.” We nodded at each other, silently understanding that the conversation was ending but still taking each other in. It almost felt like something was pulling us closer, eyes growing heavier and smiles getting looser. Breathing sharper.
“I’ll see you tonight, yeah?” It was breathy, the way it came out of her mouth. Almost like it was something she hadn’t wanted to say but forced herself to.
I nodded, watching her eyes crinkle before she turned away briskly, quick to find her escape through the illuminated tunnel. For a moment I felt like a fly in a web that was her creation, stuck in place to just stare as she left.
The show was unworldly. An atmosphere so intense and the energy so insane the floor swayed beneath my feet. The shows were structured the same each night, yet each one felt like a completely new experience. It was how the fans danced together in a formation that they’d created during Treat People With Kindness and how they’d share different experiences drawn out on their cardboard signs. It was surreal, something I felt lucky enough to experience with some of my closest friends, my band.
It went by smoothly, as projected to. The lights and the transitions between each songs igniting an excitement beyond no other I had ever experienced. Sarah played the drums precisely, hitting every beat necessary as her husband, Mitch, created the familiar tunes that were the songs of the past few albums. Within in the music, Y/n stood perched just next to Pauli, continuing to support Mitch and Elin within her bass playing.
By the time Kiwi had reached its end, I caught myself looking back to catch a glance at Y/n. Telling myself it was only to get a short moment to observe her living in her passion. Really, deep down I knew it was something more, something that had always been there yet I hadn’t had the courage to admit until that out loud.
The dressing room was quiet, after the show. The post show blues, as I used to refer to it as. The ultimate high coming back down with the realization that it was all over.
I let myself peel the sweaty chevron shirt off of my body and kicking off my green Gucci shoes. I left on the mismatched bottoms while ruffling through the pile of clothes packed in my suitcase for a shirt and shorts.
“Hey, rockstar. Trying a new look?” My head raised, turning halfway to meet her eyes.
“Yeah, really going for that oiled up 2000’s boy next door idea.” We laughed, eyes closing at how stupid I must’ve looked to her. Finding it funny and slightly embarrassing as the rose tint spread like wildfire across my cheeks.
Soon, our laughs turned into silence, warm smiles reflecting off of our faces onto the others. It was comfortable, lip caught between her teeth and mine pulling at the skin of my bottom one.
“I heard what you did tonight. Proud of you. I told you, you could hit that note change. Honestly, sounded better out there than at soundcheck.” My heart fluttered.
“I could say the same about you. It’s like you gain more power with each show.”
“Stop it, you just might make me blush.” She stepped closer, merely a few inches left separating the two of us. Her breath tickling my skin, her hands clenched by her sides nervously.
Suddenly, she had lost all that confidence that told the world she could play anyone like a fiddle. Suddenly she lost that fog around the mirror that created the illusion of a rockstar super player who moved from one man to the next, without rhyme or reason. She became what we’d all learned of her. The girl who loved long and hard on the people close to her, and the girl who despite was she was destined by the media to have been, had only had a couple relationships past the one night stands that filled her notebook. She batted her eyes, and I held my breath.
“Y/n…” It was a whisper. A soft murmur beneath my breath, but I was sure she’d heard it.
I found myself slowly reaching for her hand, opening it on top of my palm and brushing my fingers gently over the creases that ran along them before letting it fall back to her side. My eyes lifted from where we touched back to her face. Only to allow myself to find contact again. I let my hand slip around her waist, pulling slowly until our bodies were pressed together. The only thing separating our lips was the small gap we’d placed between them.
“Harry..?” She seemed conflicted, unsure almost. Hesitant.
“Is this okay?” It came out shaky, the nerves reaching a point that could only be cured by her acceptance.
“I…I just…” She thought on it, “I don’t want you to believe everything about me. I don’t want to lose you when you realize I’m not who you think I am.” The confession sounded like it was almost painful to admit.
“Oh.” I blinked, “Y/n, angel, no. I would never think that.” Her eyes were avoidant, her body more tense than moments prior.
“Please, look at me.” I let my other hand raise under his chin, pointer finger hooking underneath her chin to raise her gaze to mine, “To me, you are everything. You understand me. You see things that nobody else sees. Y/n, you bring out the best in me. I would have never had the courage to push myself and change that note tonight if you hadn’t pushed me to do it. You have this honesty that makes everyone value your words and you have this power over me that continues to draw me to you. I can not explain it, but believe me when I say you are all I want.” Her eyes fogged with what I believed to be her taking in my sudden confession. Yet, with her realization at what I had just said, she still remained silent and I felt the instant regret growing harder in my heart.
I had been through enough rejections to build a home. Yet, the thought of her rejecting me hurt more than anything I could’ve put myself through.
“Shit..Im sorry. I didn’t mean to-“ My explanation was no use, her hands on my cheeks and her lipstick smearing across my lips in a red hue as her lips pressed hard into mine in a sudden burst of confidence.
My eyes shut quickly, settling into it, only for it to be taken away quicker than I had longed for. Eyes opened in a lustful haze. Yet it wasn’t sexual, but completely innocent and perfect in every sense.
“I love you.” The words slipped passed my lips before I could stop them. A smile growing in a lovesick fashion across her face as my confession Is held in for so long reached her ears.
“I love you too.” She returned the confession, leaning in again to press her lips harder into mine and a heavenly sigh escaping her throat.
It was passionate and loving in a way that I’d never experienced before. The shared feelings were strong, new, vulnerable. A new beginning that both of us secretly longed for.
How funny the public would find it if the news ever broke that their precious bad girl rockstar was actually a giant love bug and an angel on earth. How much of a shock it would be to those who tore her down for her fashion choices and her lack of precautions in the public eye.
She might not be who she was made out to be from the exterior, but the one thing the press had gotten right about the devilish woman who broke too many hearts and dished out too many fights she could handle.
She is unforgettable.
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valiantphantomangel · 7 months ago
Text
There is nothing wrong with being shy
Request: could you please do something like Chris Hemsworth X Reader where she’s somewhat new to the marvel cast and is quite shy and whilst Chris is trying to make her feel comfortable he accidentally finds out she’s ticklish?
A/n: My Tumblr was once again not working so I'm gonna do it this way for this request and it took a hell of a lot longer then expected but here it is, i hope you enjoy 💜
You had no idea how you could have gotten so lucky, it all just started as a joke.
Audition to play Thor's sister. That was all it said in the page that your best friend send you, thinking of it as a joke you applied for the role.
A few days later you suddenly got an email from THE Marvel Studios, you almost fainted when it appeared in your inbox and before you could utter 'ta-da' you had opened and sped through the email, you read it again and again and again not believing that this was happening.
They were sending you some lines that you had to say, record and send to them since you were one of the last three candidates.
Not long after you send in your little scene and a week later you were flying to Atlanta to start filming.
Now that you are standing in your trailer, nerves racing through your body as you try to stop your hands from shaking, never in a million years did you think that it was possible for you to be in a Marvel Movie, as a main character!
You met Chris a few days ago and he was the sweetest guy you ever met, always making sure that you were comfortable and ready for the scenes. Today was the day that you would start with your first big fight scene and the nerves were getting the better of you.
Sitting alone in your trailer while your leg was bouncing up and down, in just a top and sweatpants since you would change into your costume later as you waited to be called over.
Suddenly there was a knock at the door to which you shouted "come in".
"How are you doing, nervous?" Chris asked with a smile as he walked in and closed the door behind him.
"yeah you can say that, I couldn't even eat with the nerves" you grumble as you flop onto the couch and look at him sideways.
"You have no need to be nervous Hun, you're absolutely perfect and one of the best teen actresses that I've worked with" he said with a soft smile as he poked your side as a joke.
Not expecting it you let out a soft giggle which both of you heard and you looked up at him with wide eyes.
Chris was grinning like the cheshire cat as he looked down at you and quickly sat down on your thighs and traced your ribs.
"Is little Y/N ticklish? That's adorable" he cooed while ghost tickling your bare stomach.
"Don't you darEHEHEH" you try to protest but fall into a giggle fit as he squeezed your sides.
"Oh I do dare, how else would I hear that cute little laugh of yours my lady" He said in his Thor voice as he continued to attack you.
"My laugh is not cuTehHIHIHI, CHRISHAHAHHA" you scream laughed as you trashed around.
"Yes Y/N" Hemsworth said innocently as he spidered over you tummy.
"STOPHAHHAA ITHIHIHI"!!!
"No not else you tell me what's wrong"
"NEVERHAHAHAHAHGAGA"
"Then I guess I'll just have to continue" he sighed as if it hurt him and blew a raspberry in your neck.
You continued to stay resilient until he moved from your tummy to your feet.
"OkAY OKAY OKAY I'll tell youhihihihi" you say still breathless from the giggles.
"I'm listening"
"It's just that- argh I'm nervous that I'm going to screw up everything and that they don't want me to act anymore and that I'm too shy that they don't want to talk to me anymore" you sighed as you sat up.
"Oh darling, they would never. Kevin feige loves you and every crew member can't stop talking about how polite you are to them, there's nothing wrong with being a bit shy, Even Downey was impressed with your acting and that's saying something" Chris said with a smile as he pulled sat next to you and pulled you into his side, with his arm over your shoulder and rubbing comforting circles over your arm "And I think you're the best young actress that I've worked with, next to my daughter of course"
I tried to find something to say but couldn't so you just settled for curling up next to him, filming could wait for a few minutes. And even though you didn't say anything, Chris knew perfectly well what you wanted to say.
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