#and that’s really my only main concern with these kind of things— how they feel
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kyouka-supremacy · 8 months ago
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Mmmhh...
#(Basically rant on my last two posts)#I know I've said it before and sorry for coming off as annoying–#but I really wish we still had a central bsd blog on Tumblr like fy-bungoustraydogs or bsd-central or things of the kind.#I think now everyone rushes to post news first. And although there's merit to it in knowing news as soon as they happen‚#in the long run the death of this kind of central official content ***fan*** blogs is such a huge loss of fandom spaces‚#especially for the archiving purposes they solved. Especially today that T/witter and G/oogle have basically become unusable.#Literally. Literally. I've been doing official content archiving since I was 11#(because that's the very specific kind of mental illness I have)#and let me tell you that the quality of web search and especially reverse image search only got worse–#in a way that is very evident and noticeable. Which is crazy tbh and not how things should work.#If anyone would like to start a bsd-central kind of blog I'll be the first one to follow.#Actually if anyone actually wants to establish it feel free to contact me and I'll be more than happy to share the resources I have!!!!#It just needs to be something multi-modded for a series of reasons I won't get into right now#I just can't personally do it (not as main admin at least) because that would be modding my FIFTH active bsd blog–#and that's a little too much even for me.#On top of some ethical concerns I have regarding whether it'd be fair for me to mod a fandom central bsd blog–#when I feel like I can't genuinely share the same amount of love for the franchise other fans share#On top of. You know. Getting a degree eventually hopefully.#Then years after the blog has been solidly enstablished and aquired enough credibility it could even open a free donations found to invest–#in buying and scanning and releasing bsd content that hasn't been shared yet like the guidebooks or illustration books or everything else–#for everyone to see...#The dream. (Is realistically never going to happen) (Won't stop me from daydreaming about it every day)#((Still salty I couldn't afford the guidebooks only due to the shipment prices. I *would* have scanned and uploaded them.))#That was a long and idealistic rant. Kyotag out#Edit: *Modding my SIXTH bsd blog#Apparently I mod so many blogs I lost count of them
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icewindandboringhorror · 9 days ago
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The evil slow creep of it being like "haha these will just be quick little side quests, not much effort at all!" and then noticing each one is getting progressively longer than the last, thus no longer being minimal effort.. auGh....
#The jump of 76 for the first one to 275 for the most recent ghghjb#what can I say.. I am.. The Elaborator.. The Detail Giver..#number six will HAVE to be shorter....!!!!!! !!!!#I fear it's going to look this way but opposite with some of the main character quests. The first character I ever worked on. like their#first quest I added wayy to much information and detail and side options and etc.#Once I got done with all their stuff I was like.... if they're all like this I will NEVER finish.. So then I tried to be very short about#it all. EVERY single interaction cannot have 10 branching dialogue and 5 different endings and blah blah blah.. as much as I wish it could.#Hiring a butler to stand over me all day shouting ''NARROW the scope!!!! REDUCE the options!!! CUT the dialogue!!!'' whilst I sob#and hit backspace on everything once every five minutes#But that means probably the first character I worked on will be very obvious because their quests might have a different#feel than the others and be longer.. I just CAN'T make ALL of them that long. but maybe I could choose one..#Like out of the four characters that will have full quests for them upon release.. maybe I can add another one thats long so at least#TWO of them have weirdly long quests and the one first character doesnt seem so singled out lol#I hear this happens in real life professional games as well (like people complaining that X character doesnt have as much#content in an RPG as some other one does. etc.) so.. perhaps my fears about everyting not being exactlyliterally equal#are not even that worrisome or something that's a major factor. Still lol#It's not really that concerning to me anyways from a 'how will people react to it' perspective (very niche game. hardly anyone#will play it i'd assume. its not like thousands of people shall desscend upon me to criticize even if something was weird like that.#it'd be like. out of the 25 people who ever play it. maybe one of them is like 'yeah it was kinda weird that thosequests were so much#longer than the others. but idk' and that's the extent lol). My concern is more like.. Writing time..#the more I add. the longer it takes for me to finish. So if I keep ednlessly making things forever longer and longer. then it becomes The#Forever Project. which it kind of already is. considering I started it in 2018 and then forgot about it for the most part of 5 years and am#only resuming it now LOL.. I cannot bear to add MORE forever onto that which already is quite Forever-ish#If I wrote everything the ideal way I wish it were then I would either need a full team of writers. or I would finish the game in 2085#so.. alas.. cut cut snip snip..#ANYWAY lol
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gloomwitchwrites · 3 months ago
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His teammates call you because he isn't handling the break up well.
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I'm gonna be honest, Anon. I went a more humorous route with this (but some angst in there too because why not!) I'm just imagining all of them being completely pathetic and the one calling is on the phone like "come get your man please." So, with that being said, I hope you enjoy this!
Presented in four double drabbles.
For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE
Task Force 141 x Reader
Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): swearing, some angst, established relationship, breakups. brief humor
Word Count: 800
ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist
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John Price
“You have two minutes,” you say immediately after answering your phone.
“You need to call him,” comes Simon’s gruff voice on the other end.
You’ve only met Simon a handful of times, but he’s always been your favorite of John’s team. He has consistently treated you with kindness and respect, and he never oversteps boundaries.
“Why?” you ask, glancing at your nails, pretending you don’t care.
“He fucking misses you.”
“That’s not enough of a reason,” you reply.
It isn’t. Not really. Even if your heart aches and your stomach flips from hearing it.
“Captain isn’t taking the breakup well.”
You want to say that you aren’t either, even though you’re the one who ended things. In reality, you miss John. It’s agonizing.
“And?” you ask, trying to hide the slight crack in your voice.
“He has us running laps around the fucking track, love. Haven’t done that since I was a grunt who couldn’t properly tie his boot laces.”
You sigh. “Am I supposed to feel sorry for you?”
“Yes.” Simon’s response is immediate.
Rubbing your temple, you decide to take a leap. It wouldn’t hurt to talk. Not really. “Fine. I’ll talk to him.”
“Thank fuck,” he breathes.
Kyle "Gaz" Garrick
“This is absurd,” you mutter, rubbing the middle of your brow, irritation building in the back of your head.
“Just give us a few minutes,” comes Captain Price’s voice. It’s Kyle’s boss, but he’s not the only one on the phone.
“Oh, aye. Hear us out.” Soap is there, too.
For all you know, Ghost is lingering on the call, a silent entity listening in but not saying anything.
“Why? Give me a reason?”
“Kyle misses you,” says Price.
“He loves you, lass.”
This isn’t new information. You’re aware of how Kyle feels but that doesn’t change things. The two of you are not together anymore. He needs to move on.
“He’s not handling the breakup well.” This time it’s Ghost. The silent man speaks.
“What do you want me to do,” you sigh.
“Talk to him,” says Price.
“No.”
Your phone buzzes and you hold it away from your ear. It’s a text from Price. You click on it, revealing a photo.
It’s Kyle. He’s curled up in his bed in the barracks, clutching a teddy bear he won you at a carnival on your first date.
“We can come get you,” says Price.
“Fine. I’ll talk to him.”
John "Soap" MacTavish
“I’m sorry, John. But you shouldn’t have called. I don’t want to hear it.”
There is a deep sigh on the other end of the phone. You respect Captain John Price. The few times you’ve met him, he’d been pleasant, and he was always the first one to greet you whenever you visited Johnny on base.
“I understand that you broke it off with him.”
“John—”
“Listen. Please.”
He genuinely sounds concerned, and that gives you pause.
It’s not like you and Johnny ended things on bad terms. His life is busy. It’s dangerous. You just don’t fit in it, and the stress of never knowing when or if he’s going to come home is something far to difficult a thing to carry with you.
“He’s been struggling. Had to corner him in my office to get him to talk. He’s really hurting.”
You swallow. Lick your lips. “Why are you calling me, John?”
“I want you to talk to him.”
“John—”
“Soap is currently facedown in his bed in the barracks. Sulking.”
“Okay. I’ll talk to him.”
“In person,” says John. It sounds like a command. Not an ask.
“Fine, John,” you reply, grabbing your car keys.
Simon "Ghost" Riley
“You need to talk to him. Simon is a bloody mess.”
“He’s fine, Johnny. He’ll get over. There was no reason for you to call me.”
Johnny snorts on the other end. “You don’t think so? I thought he was going to crush a new recruit’s skull in this morning.”
You roll your eyes. “I’m not interested in talking with Simon right now.”
Is it really a breakup? No. Not really. More like a separation. Simon has your whole heart, but he’s stubborn and cold. His shell is difficult to crack.
“That’s too bad. Because I’m here.”
“You’re—what?”
“Aye. Walking up to your front door right now.”
You blink. Aghast. “John MacTavish you better not—”
There is a sharp series of knocks at your front door. “You gotta be fucking kidding me,” you mutter.
Growling, you storm to the front door, phone still pressed to your ear. You unlatch the deadbolt and yank the door open. Johnny is standing on the other side, his phone also held to his ear. He gives you his biggest grin.
You want to smack it right off his face.
“What are you doing?”
Johnny ends the call. “I’m taking you to Simon.”
taglist:
@km-ffluv @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @miaraei @cherryofdeath
@enarien @saoirse06 @ferns-fics @unhinged-reader-36 @miss-mistinguett
@ravenpoe67 @tulipsun-flower @sageyxbabey @mudisgranapat @ninman82
@lulurubberduckie @leed-bbg @yawning-grave81 @azkza @nishim
@haven-1307 @voids-universe @itsberrydreemurstuff @spicyspicyliving @keiva1000
@littlemisscriesherselftosleep @greeniegreengreen @umno-yeah @blackhawkfanatic @talooolaaloolla
@sadlonelybagel @kadeeesworld @iloveslasher @sammysinger04 @dakotakazansky
@suhmie @jaggersinclair @jackrabbitem @lxblm @beebeechaos
@no-oneelsebutnsu @kidd3ath @certainlygay @thewulf @lovely-ateez
@whisperwispxx @gingergirl06 @eternallyvenus @smileykiddie08 @arrozyfrijoles23
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tofixtheshadows · 7 months ago
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You guys really need to stop and consider the ways you're talking about Kabru I am dead fucking serious. Like I know that flattening characters is just what fandom does to a certain extent, but Kabru's actual personality is getting lost to the fandom hivemind insisting that he's aggressive/cruel/sociopathic/hateful, and these are particularly concerning takes to see leveled at the only brown character in the main cast day after day. "My poor sweet golden child Laios needs to be protected from this scary brown man" is not a good look! Like, it's very telling that the bulk of the hate and bad faith readings are reserved for Toshiro and Kabru. Everyone else's flaws get to be discussed and validated and forgiven (or erased), meanwhile people are straight making up things to be mad about with Toshiro and Kabru but patting themselves on the back for being smart.
The worst part is how undeserved it all is. I'm trying to lay off anime-onlys because we're still kind of in the red herring stage of getting to know Kabru, but I would still like to gently suggest that even if you think Kabru is up to something, you don't gave to get in the tags of every fan creator's post and bring up how you hate him or You Can Tell he's totally evil. Sometimes I think Kabru's blue eyes give people license to say things about his appearance that they know would sound completely racist otherwise, but referring to his blue eyes acts as a get-out-of-racism free card. The jokes about the dog with brown contacts are getting old, by the way.
For people who have read the manga, it's disappointing. Kabru is one of the most complex and important characters in the story, and if you base your interpretation of him and all your fandom interactions on shallow first impressions you are completely missing out.
I know part of this is because Dungeon Meshi is a comedy, but the story also wants to be taken seriously. For example, it's admittedly really funny when Chilchuck calls Laios "sick in the head", but that doesn't change the fact that the way Chilchuck casually belittles Laios caused him to hide the fact that he was "hallucinating" from his friends for weeks. Those feelings matter.
Like, this
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is funny.
But this?
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Is not. This is just a very clear example of a brown boy with PTSD. As someone else with PTSD, just looking at this fucking sucks, man.
The only reason why Kabru thinks about killing Laios is because he is in the middle of a flashback. He's struggling through a panic attack. If he truly wanted to kill Laios because he's violent or because he finds Laios inherently annoying, he wouldn't otherwise talk with Laios normally. Notice how he doesn't act this way at any other point in the story- it's just because he's triggered by monsters. Even when he's thinking about his plans to "deal with" Laios later, he's reluctant to actually kill him and only considers it to prevent another tragedy. Despite his deadly skills, Kabru relies far more on "soft" power- insight, persuasion, diplomacy. He's a rare example of a character who absolutely is, or at least can be, manipulative, but seems to use his abilities for good. He's not a pathological liar, he isn't looking down on everyone behind a smile. He's someone who is extremely emotionally intelligent, and he's willing to put aside all his own basic wants and needs to stop the cycle of dungeons devouring humans.
I'm going to cut a potential thesis on his character short and just give some examples of things that fandom should consider about his personality more:
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Racism in fandom isn't just about whitewashing in fan art, or using racial slurs. The insidiousness of bad faith readings, reductions to racist tropes, lack of fan content for characters of color, and dismissal of a character's complexity are far more common. You can believe yourself to be completely neutral or even positive about a character and still churn out low-grade bile about them into fandom's collective unconscious. Fandom reflects real life.
And I have been around fandom long enough to see how these behaviors (mostly from my fellow white fans) affect fans of color, how it makes a fandom feel hostile and unwelcome to them. It's fun to make jokes and memes, I'm absolutely not saying that everything needs to be a deeply nuanced take, but we need to be careful that it doesn't veer into toxicity. Please think about how our contributions to fandom come across, and what sort of vibes they cultivate in this communal space.
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maknaereality · 2 months ago
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I shifted
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I shifted to my nana dr for about six months (even though only six seconds have passed here, since I set the time so that one month in the dr equals one second in this reality). I'm still a little confused from coming back, but overall, I feel good.
This dr isn’t my main one but could become my main one. Before I share some details, I want to clarify that this DR doesn't follow the anime’s storyline. For example, that asshole Takumi will never meet Hachi. I'll try to keep it brief, as I don't like talking too much about my dr after all, it is real life .
I live about 15 minutes away from Hachi and Nana’s apartment, in a suburb of Tokyo. I work at a bakery and also do art. Living in Tokyo between 1998 and 1999 is a mix of nostalgia and surreal. It's hard to describe precisely. I’ve also learned to live without modern smartphones, using those old brick phones with buttons instead. This has taught me to live more in the moment, without the constant need to check social media or waste hours scrolling through TikTok, aimlessly losing time.
In this dr, I’m learning to be more independent. Thanks also to my experiences in my Kpop drs, I've learned to manage an apartment on my own here: I do the laundry, cook, manage my budget, pay bills, and work in the bakery. Oh, and I'm also studying to get my driver's license.
I’ve also started learning to play the guitar, especially thanks to Nana. Playing has always been a huge dream of mine, but I never had the chance to do it in this reality. Once, I even got emotional with joy while holding the guitar in my hands, because it’s something I’ve always loved doing.
My relationship with Hachi and Nana is really great.
Hachi is very close to me; she often texts to ask how I’m doing, how work is going, and invites me to hang out on weekends or go to the pub together. I love going out with her because she’s unashamed of anything or anyone, and with her, I never feel judged. She also has a great sense of style. Even though colorful clothes aren’t really my thing, she’s helped me find a style that suits me. I must admit, though, that she requires a lot of patience since she’s a bit naive.
As for Nana Osaki, I really love her a lot. She’s given me so much advice on some of my personal concerns, and she’s the kind of person who could listen to you for hours. She shows her affection through sarcastic jokes. We share the same taste in music. It took a little while for her to fully trust me and start confiding in me, but I understand her, and our bond has grown over time.
I’m still getting to know Shin and Nobu. Shin is very reserved, but I feel like we’ll become great friends. Nobu, on the other hand, has already opened up, and we’ve quickly become close.
Next time I shift, I’ll come back with a suitcase full of Vivienne Westwood clothes, necklaces, and rings!
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endless-ineffabilities · 3 months ago
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chemical override (6)
Ewan Mitchell x actress!reader
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a/n: I hope you all have found ways to cope after the breakup, but here all your questions will be answered on what went down pre-August! Special shoutout to @just-fics-station @thepurplecrown @clarkysblog @hotdismylife and @sprinklesprinkle888 for sharing your ideas and indulging me with the lovely, crazy discourse!
To everyone, I am so chuffed at how this has become OUR story - our lil self-indulgent Ewan Nation production. You all are aces <3
series masterlist ▪︎ main masterlist
In the aftermath of the breakup, the reader and Ewan throw themselves into their work, trying (and failing) to avoid any trace of the other. Will they remain this way - former lovers doomed to drift in each other's orbit?
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Some time before August
New York City
The lush office was laden with expensive wooden antiques, one side with built-in shelves displaying film awards and plaques of varying degrees of prestige. A full glass minibar occupied the other side.
The casting director introduced himself as Bruce, insisting that Ewan call him by his first name and not any of that "sir or similar stick-up-the-ass names". Ewan can see him as a mentor or maybe even a friend, Bruce insisted.
After all, they were going to help each other out a lot.
The discussion was straightforward enough, never mind the saccharine tone Bruce seemed to be so good at. Aimed at making Ewan feel welcome, coddling him, remarking with awe at his projects thus far. But there was a fakeness to it. Ewan steeled himself, trying to adapt to the style of conversation. After all, if he is in this for the long haul, then he would have to get used to these situations.
Bruce appraised him, leaning back on his leather swivel chair. "How are you with the fantasy genre? All that YA, lovesick stuff the kids eat up so eagerly nowadays? Personally, I haven't got the taste for it, but it always makes bank, if you know what I mean."
"Oh, well, I'm a fan of all movies. I definitely see why the fantasy genre has made such an impact on audiences, especially with the romance element, you know, I get the appeal."
"Well, son, we've got a solid franchise in our hands here. Some adaptation of an elf-human love story, mind you, it sound ridiculous, but you know how it is. And the team seems to be in agreement - you fit the bill for the male lead. The male elf lead - " he almost guffawed at the thought, then collected himself " - hope you don't mind my saying that you've got elvish features yourself. Long nose, long jaw, lanky. The teens are going to eat you up."
"Ah," Ewan smiled curtly, nodding. There was a backhanded compliment if he ever heard one. "Well, sir, I've read the script - at least, the bit that was sent to me - and it looks quite promising. I'd be honoured to - "
"Of course, of course!" Bruce exclaimed in pleasure, cutting Ewan off mid-sentence. "And there's the case of your leading lady, and this all boils down to chemistry as you know. Our top contender is that Jenna Ortega girl from the Netflix show, you know her?"
Ewan nodded, well aware. He's seen her work, and thinks that she is a top actress of her generation, but leave it to Bruce to reduce her to being that girl from the Netflix show.
"Yes, she's a very talented actress," Ewan replied.
Bruce hums in agreement, head bobbing as a smirk materialises on his face. "Think she's a looker?" he said openly, without shame.
Ewan laughed nervously, his words caught in his throat.
Bruce, characteriscally oblivious to the discomfort of others, carried on. "I only ask because we're going to need you two to be pretty chummy with each other when you jump on this project. It's kind of a condition of the whole thing, but really nothing to concern yourself with." He waved a hand in the air, his proposition barely carrying any weight in his mind. But Ewan was catching on, and he started to develop a dislike about the whole deal.
"What do you mean?" Ewan asked.
"It's pretty common in this business, son. There's a reason why young, new actors like yourself opt to remain unattached so to speak, so they're always open to a PR arrangement or, you know, just so their - your - hoards of fans would think they got a chance with you," Bruce explains lazily. "In this case, since you and Ortega are, as I said, unattached, getting you two together would fuckin' do wonders for our movie."
Our movie, he said, convinced that Ewan was all in, because why would any young actor refuse such a golden opportunity? Franchises like this can set up an entire mainstream Hollywood career.
Ewan thought that he wasn't unattached. Granted, his date with you was yet to happen, but he already felt bound to you. He wished you were the one tapped to be his love interest. Very little acting would be needed there. Maybe he might even be inclined to go along with the idea of selling the relationship, using it for publicity for the film, but even that made him uneasy.
The industry offered a lot of privileges, but more often than not, they come at a cost.
"Sir, I - "
"Bruce."
"Right, sorry. Bruce, I have to tell you that I'm not exactly unattached."
"Got a partner?"
Ewan actually found himself smiling at the thought of you being called his partner. His first easy smile since entering this office. "Yes, she's an actress herself," he agreed.
"I heard of her?" Bruce asked with obvious disinterest. You were but a wedge in his flawless plan.
"She's kind of a new talent like me, but she's brilliant. She plays Alyna Rivers in our show."
"Ah her," Bruce loosened up a little. "I get it, she's a piece."
Ewan cleared his throat loudly, his jaw clenching on instinct. "So, like I said, I'm with her. I'm sorry but this whole PR arrangement with Jenna wouldn't work."
"Look, kid, I want my movie to do well, alright? I got a lot invested here. This PR thing has proven to be highly bankable time and time again. If you don't trust me, I can ask the team to show you the data on all that. It's a lot of boring numbers, but shit, the numbers are never wrong."
"I don't need to see - "
"If you wanna be with your girl, you can, but you just gotta learn to hide it. Sweep it under the rug, you know. Don't canoodle in public, you crazy kids," Bruce offered, like that made things any better.
"You want me to hide my relationship?"
"Hey, now, come on. Word gets around. Isn't your girl also doing this exact same thing with Jacob Elordi?"
"Not anymore, I don't think," Ewan clarifies, "and that was... that was hardly anything. They weren't obligated to do it. It just worked by chance because they were both single for a time."
"Po-ta-to, po-tah-to." Bruce clicked his tongue before making his next point. "So you see how it works, your thing with Ortega won't be any different."
"Do I have a choice?" There it is, the defining factor.
Bruce smiled slowly. The calculating and menacing air about him intensified, and it was obvious he was not there to be Ewan's friend.
"It would be stupid to refuse something like this, kid."
Ewan's blue eyes flashed in return. None of this was ideal, but his nan raised him well, and he knew better than to falter on his values in times of trial.
"Sir, what's stupid is if you ask me to hide my real relationship for the sake of mere publicity for a film."
"Stupid you say?" Bruce sneered, having already discarded Ewan in his mind, his fragile ego bruised. "What a shame."
There wasn't much to say after that. Bruce was clearly not disinclined to reveal the ice that settled in his veins, and it dawned on Ewan that it had always been the case. There was no true hospitality here.
For bigwig casting director-slash-execs like Bruce, this was a transaction. And Ewan was not about to put what he has, or what he could have, with you on the line.
There has to be another way to advance his career. If not bigger productions, then at least those with less domineering producers.
"That is a shame," Ewan said, getting up from his seat. "I won't waste any more of your time, sir. Thank you for considering me."
Bruce's eyes darkened even further. "You're actually refusing me? For some girl?"
Another genuine smile formed on Ewan's face at the thought of you. Some girl.
But you're not just some girl. He nodded without a trace of doubt in his mind, before reaching out to shake Bruce's hand. "If you don't mind, sir... I have to go and see my darling."
▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎
Near the end of August
Los Angeles
The modern space sported a minimalist yet rustic feel, the interiors a blend of sterile white and sleek wooden surfaces. Very LA, as they say. The windowed walls offered plenty of light, as well as precious views of the valley below.
"Thank you for agreeing to meet with me, Donna," you greeted Ewan's publicist as she ushered you in her LA office.
"No problem at all, sweetheart," she said. "Please, have a seat. Would you like some coffee or tea? Ewan always has his coffee with way, way too much sugar. Mind you, if that kid wasn't active and boxing all the time, I'd be worried for his health."
You smiled fondly at her genuine concern. "Don't even mention the cigarettes."
"Oh, yeah," she scoffed, settling down on the chair across from you. She could have sat down at her desk, making the meeting more official, but Donna's always had a friendly and open way about her. "So, my sweet, how's your new movie coming up?"
You respond eagerly. The dialogue flowed freely, talking about your film and the lukewarm reception of season 2 of House of The Dragon. And finally, Ewan.
"I really thought he would get the Greta Gerwig film," you said. "Everyone said he was perfect for it. I think Greta herself had nothing but praises for him when they met on Zoom."
She sighed thoughtfully, "I thought so too. And, theoretically, he did have that one almost booked up. But there was an issue with one of the producers, which - I don't even want to get into that."
You shook your head, catching on whom she hinted at. "Donna, I heard... well, it didn't go too well in New York, didn't it? Ewan told me about it but... if you can tell me more, I just want to understand why - "
"Sweetheart," she offered a smile, but it doesn't reach her eyes, "you should talk about this with Ewan."
"I tried. But he wouldn't budge. Mallory told me... that it might have been because of me that he didn't get the role? And also why he's struggling to get roles now? Donna, I... I can't have that."
It took some time for her to formulate a response. She didn't want to step in something that's none of her business. Your relationship with Ewan is yours. But when his career is on the line, she supposed that she needed to have some say in that.
"He met with this top producer in New York. This real old money Hollywood guy. For decades, he's built careers for the greats, you know - Pitt, DiCaprio, Theron, and whatnot. There was a franchise project practically offered to him on a plate, but Ewan refused, because a non-negotiable was that he would have to hide you in favour of a PR arrangement with his leading lady."
You swallowed, the weight of the truth making itself clear. "Couldn't he have just done the movie without that?"
"You would think," she grimaced, "but some producers... when they want something, they have to get it. And well, Bruce wasn't lying, that would have sold the movie well."
"I thought we were past this," you expressed sadly. "I understand how PR relationships work. Just recently, I found myself kind of in the middle of one. But there was no pressure, it wasn't forced on us, and it was meant to be all in good fun."
"I know, sweetheart," she insisted, reaching out to squeeze your hand. "Bruce is an outlier now. Most of the time you do get lucky, with an all-around supportive production team, just like with your project with Elordi."
You hummed in agreement on that positive note, but your mind kept drifting back to Ewan.
Donna continued, wrapping up her story, "but Bruce is still here, and he still has a lot of power. But you know, it'll be fine. Ewan's got such a huge fanbase and so much talent that it'll only be a matter of time before something else knocks on his door."
You wanted to share her sense of optimism, but something ate at you. What else will Ewan have to sacrifice just to be with you? This was his dream, his one dream, and you were standing in the way. How much longer before he is offered another project but he refuses to take it for your sake? Your thoughts blurred together, bordering on irrational, but you couldn't help it.
All you could picture was the unabashed sincerity on his face, that sense of wonder, when he told you that acting had always been his dream.
Being tied down to you, this early in his career, would surely only hurt him. And you don't think you're worth it.
"Ewan loves you, sweetheart. Anyone with eyes can see that," Donna said after a while, heeding the storm brewing in your expression.
He loves you. It was true.
Less than a month in, and you've already found yourself with a love that you've never felt before. And perhaps never will again.
And that was the problem.
▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎
Late September
The podcast moderators are overly welcoming, if not a little loud for Ewan's taste.
The BBC podcast is called Loose Ends, and it's one of the first things Ewan agreed to take on upon returning to England.
He had wanted to head straight home to Derby, to bury himself in his heartache and bitterness, but the team for the show tapped him for a couple more promotional stints, riding on the high of the season finale. And who better than Ewan to offer to the media, the undeniable fan favourite.
Clad in an old gray shirt and blue jeans, people would think he just rolled right out of bed. He didn't really have the motivation to put in more effort. The only striking thing about him is his newly bleached head of hair, supervised by his stylist for a photoshoot a few days ago.
It was ironic, the timing of such a change. Ewan knew that if word got out that you dumped him, he would never hear the end of the joke of that being the reason for his hairstyle change, typical of all heartbroken sods.
Everyone bursts into laughter when he tells them about his mum's reaction to his nude scene. It feels like going through the motions, and he must have been so out of it, so forlorn, that his team prepared an outline for him prior to the interview. The questions and answers all pre-agreed.
Make them laugh. React as required. Remember to speak when spoken to. The mantra goes on in his head.
And don't think about her.
An impossible task, worsened when a moderator goes off script and asks, "Now it wasn't me who saw this, as I'm not on social media myself, but one of our interns did mention that you ventured into Instagram recently? Is that true?"
Oh fuck.
"Mmm, yeah, I guess," Ewan laughs nervously, his hand massaging the back of his neck in a self-soothing motion.
"And your first post went viral? What can you tell us about that? Our listeners would love to know."
"Uhhhm - " He remembers that the broadcast is live, and he can't exactly ask them to edit this part out, so he quickly settles for something indirect. Inconclusive. Safe. " - did it go viral? I'm not too sure how that thing works. I haven't used any kind of social media before."
"Apparently it did! And it had to do with the subject featured in that photo, Ewan. Your costar - "
"Mmm," Ewan stops him there, "didn't you say that you don't use Instagram?"
"No, I think I'm too old!" The moderator laughs.
"It's insane, that whole thing," Ewan shakes his head. "I don't know how to handle it. I'm logged off most of the time."
"Oh, you log off?"
"Yeah, yeah, helps me keep my focus, you know. Keep calm and all that."
"It can get frivolous, can't it?"
Ewan hums in agreement, and thankfully, the moderator moves on to his last question. One that does not breach the subject of you.
▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎
Another day means yet another media stint for Ewan, this time for Now TV.
Still in London, his stylist Davey and the rest of the team prepare him for a day of brief interview clips, to be posted on the social media pages of the company.
Davey had half-joked about Ewan needing even more concealer than usual, the shadows under his eyes having significantly deepened after the breakup.
Some of his team have gotten wind of what happened. They would curiously ask about you, how often Ewan keeps in touch with you while you're on set...
You must be on FaceTime everyday!
Is it hard to be doing long-distance so soon?
Do you miss her? Is that why you're not getting any rest?
...but Ewan would only laugh uncomfortably, dismiss it by bringing up another topic or shifting the attention to someone else, or excuse himself to go for a smoke.
He'd been drowning himself in cigarettes and caffeine during the day, pint after pint in the nighttime. Aimless.
He is coping. He knows how it must look, but he deserves this. He deserves to drift for a while. It's the only thing he can do to keep himself from jumping on the next flight to Atlanta and begging for your hand back.
You said you love him. You did. He hangs on to it like a beacon in a storm. No matter how pointless it may seem, with you choosing someone else over him.
Work is becoming something of an anchor, something that keeps him from spiralling. He's an actor, and he has always wanted to be an actor. People now have expectations of him, and he will answer the call.
The interview session begins with generic questioning, stuff he's answered before on several occasions.
How special is the bond between dragon and rider?
What is a funny moment from set that you can share?
How similar are Aemond and Daemon?
All safe. He's proud of himself for not breaking mental clarity thus far. You're in the back of his mind, dormant as a memory, and not something looming darkly over him. For a while, at least.
But then he is asked, If you could invite any 5 people to a Ewan Mitchell dinner party, who would you pick?
"Matthew McConaughey - "
You.
" - Bruce Lee. I think they could strike up an interesting conversation - "
Your name echoes in his mind, and he can't control it.
" - Andrea Riseborough. She's just a chameleon, like in any role she undertakes -
You have great taste. Even if you would make him eat spicy food again, he'll take it. He'll endure anything for you.
He's stumped for a second, lump in his throat, and his effort in avoiding you leads him to mention someone who will always be a comfort to him.
" - Maybe my nan, because I miss her -
Your name. He has to say your name. Who else? Think of someone else.. but who else? Who would be better?
" - and then, another person. Let's make it from the show... it would be Alyna Rivers."
"Oh really?" The interviewer asks. She's not really meant to respond in this instance, but she knows that the fans would go crazy about any mention of you or your character, so why not jump on this opportunity? "Can you tell us why you chose her?"
"Uhhm, well, she's just an amazing character, you know, fiercely loyal, beautiful, tenacious," Ewan replies easily, "so yeah, she would make for good company."
It is obvious that he is describing you just as much as he does Alyna Rivers, and no doubt, the fans will catch on to this detail.
Later, he's asked about his favourite part about season two, and he duly answers, "Seeing more of Aemond and Vhagar's bond and how that perhaps have gotten stronger. Aemond has definitely reined her in, after the accident at Storm's End."
Then, "There are some new additions to the show. Do you have a particular favourite?"
Another obvious piece of bait. And he takes it, he doesn't care anymore. What's the use of denying the truth?
"A favourite new character? Oh, well, uhmm... I really do like Alyna, and I think I've said before that Aemond and her are quite similar in a sense that they both know what they want and how to achieve it. It's just a shame they're on opposing sides, because if those two get together... " he trails off, leaving it up to the audiences to fill in the rest of the thought.
And they eagerly do. The clips where Ewan mentions Alyna get the most traction, flooded with comments that more or less talk of the same thing -
We know why you chose Alyna, Ewan. We know your ways.
He could have said Alys. Or Gwayne. Or even the ghost of Daeron ffs. But nooooo.... it's Alyna Alyna Alyna 😮‍💨
I wonder if she's there behind the scenes
yeah shes definitely lurking in the background!
Aemond and Alyna better have at least a scene together in season 3!!!!!
Someone kidnap Ryan Condal and make him write this
Ewan doesn't see any of it. Not that he's missing out, because he soon feels the need to call his younger cousin to ask her how to turn off his notifications on Instagram.
Day in and day out, his one single post gets dozens of new comments and likes, a brutal reminder of what he's lost. He could just delete it, and get rid of his profile entirely, but he hates to imagine the discourse that would follow.
All the invasive allegations and rumours. So he leaves it be. It makes no difference to him now. Let people believe what they want.
To his chagrin, he finds himself scrolling on his home page once in a while. The addictive element to it was true, and for him, it's exacerbated because the things he sees are often related to you.
Photos of you from fanpages and news accounts. Ones where your friends have tagged you. It's a toxic habit, looking through it all, but he can't help himself.
Then one day, as he's slouched on the seat in his London apartment, phone propped on his knees, he sees a cutout photo of his face on the corner of the screen. He clicks on it, and it's an image of him interposed among different posts. Posts which he apparently liked.
"Oh for fuck's sake," he cusses at himself, reading the caption.
Boyfriend lurking? - Ewan Mitchell may play a formidable TV villain, but in real life, he's just like us. Click on the link in bio to see his series of liked posts!
Dread takes root in him, followed by self-loathing. Why couldn't he just keep off this bloody thing? He takes to the comments to see what he has allegedly liked on accident and it's predictably photos of you - you at a premiere, stills of you as Alyna, and even, heavens fucking forbid, a behind the scenes shot of you getting pretty close with Jacob Elordi on the set of your film.
He vividly remembers seeing that last one, because he went on a bender after coming across it.
Cursing himself and his wayward, sticky fingers, he exits the app and deletes it from his phone.
Whatever goes on there, whatever people might leave on his profile, he washes his hands of it.
He calls up several of his mates, asking them if they want to come over for a few drinks.
"Again, Ewan?" one of them exclaims. "C'mon, you gotta take a breather, mate."
"I don't need a breather." I need her.
"Ewan - "
His composure breaks, all his damned frustrations rising to the surface, and he confesses, "I wonder if she thinks about me."
"Hang in there, mate. We're coming over."
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October
The director finally yells a satisfied, "Cut!"
It's only taken a good twenty-something takes for you and Jacob to nail a challenging scene. You had been on a roll since the beginning of the shoot, the last few weeks seemingly a breeze on paper, though it's a constant struggle to keep it together.
You've had to quell your internal dialogue so it does not stray to him. His smile. The feel of his skin against yours. His way of subtly picking up on details, and doing sweet things that surprise you as a result.
But you received word just before the scene that a few of your friends have come to visit, waiting back at your trailer - Phia, Fabien and his girlfriend, Bella.
And so, as if on instinct, Ewan is all you can focus on, every repressed memory of him rushing in like a tidal wave.
Do they know? What could you possibly say to justify what you did? You can only hope he took on that project, to give you a bitter sense of vindication.
It's the only thing that keeps it all the bay, the only thing that keeps you from jumping on the next flight to England and grovelling at his door.
Phia has her arms wrapped around you the moment you open the door to your trailer, loudly squealing, "I missed you!"
You sink into the hug, comforted by her presence.
As well as the fact that she represents some connection to Ewan.
Phia, Helaena. Helaena, Aemond. Aemond, Ewan.
It's a sick game to play, but it's what you have.
"Hey, yous," you hug Fabien and Bella in turn. Not long after, you're all lounging on director's chairs right outside your trailer, enjoying a bit of sun.
"How's our big Hollywood star?" Phia quips, her lips curling in her trademark pleasant upturn.
"Hardly a star," you shake your head fondly. "More of an indie darling."
"Of course, of course," she relents, before going on a monologue about how she's been keeping tabs on your project, how she just adores the costume designer whom she spoke to at length while you were working, and how the rest of the cast is rooting for you.
The rest of the cast.
"Ah, are they?" you ask, making a conscious effort to not simply blurt out his name. What does he think? Has he mentioned you at all?
Do they know?
Do they secretly hate you for what you did?
"Mhmm, right Fabs?" she says.
"Oh, definitely." Fabien agrees right away.
"How's your film? Are you done shooting in Philly?" you ask him.
"Just about done, but I think we're doing some final reshoots next week. I'm just glad my girl's here to visit," he slings an arm around Bella, who smiles and leans closer to him.
You smile at the sight, but it visibly falters. Ewan could be visiting you on set right now, just like Bella with Fabien, if you hadn't fucked it all up.
They notice.
"Love," Phia sighs, her tone softening. "I just want you know - we want you know - we're here for you, okay? No matter what you went through with... " A pause. Like saying his name would open up the floodgates.
Your gaze falls to your lap in shame. You pick on invisible lint on your trousers. Bite your lip. Breathe deeply.
Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry.
"So you guys know, huh?"
"Well, more or less," Phia says. "I just spoke with... Ewan... recently. He's back in Derby for the time being, and he's - "
"He's a bit rough," Fabien says firmly. He's not taking sides here, but he's heard from Ewan, and he feels the need to have his mate's back. "Look, I don't want to pry, but what happened? It seemed like you guys were doing so well together!"
"You don't have to tell us," Phia adds, shooting Fabien a look. "But if you want to, we're here to listen. We love you both and we just want to help, love."
You feel your eyes welling up. Leave it to Phia to be oh so sweet. You can't lie to them, you don't want to. Even if you did, they would see right through it.
Your friends know you too well.
"I... I miss him."
Phia squeezes your hand, and the whole story is about to spill out of you when you hear your name being called.
It's your assistant Clara, letting you know you're needed back on set.
You swallow back tears, standing on your feet, trying to maintain enough composure so you can grant yourself access back to your character.
"Go do your thing, superstar," Phia smiles comfortingly. "We'll be here when you're ready."
▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎
November
"I'd like to propose a toast," Tom declares out loud in the empty pub, "to Ewan, Hollywood's new elf... Lord? Prince? Ah sod it, cheers!"
Round the table, Ewan, Fabien, Luke and Elliott all raise their pints with a collective, "Hear, hear!"
The pub has been cleared out for the lads, thanks to a favour called in by the twins, with the owner being their gym buddy and good friend.
"Thank you," Ewan replies, smirking. "I am your new elf prince, address me as such."
"Your ears have never been pointier, mate," Luke quips.
After a month of moping back home in Derby, or recovering as Ewan prefers to put it, he got a call from his manager telling him that the offer from Bruce still stands.
Apparently, the production team for the movie still had him tapped as the prime choice for the lead. After observing his audience metrics and overall viability, they decided that the movie would fare the best with him in it.
They had planted some half-baked announcements in the media, stating that it was Ewan against Joseph Quinn and Manny Jacinto for the role, and the fan reaction veered in Ewan's favour by a landslide.
Even though Bruce had an unsavoury word or two to say about him, he was willing to work past it, so long as Ewan would be more amenable to his demands.
After careful deliberation, Ewan chose to throw caution to the wind, and accept the role. So what if he has to pretend to have a real-life romance with Jenna? This is what you wanted.
"I'm glad you finally came out to see us, mate," Fabien says. "It's been a while."
"Yeah, fuck's sake. Remind us never to break your heart! That was tough to witness, you hunkerin' down out there all mopey and whatnot," Elliott laughs.
"Mmm." Ewan takes a swig of his beer to hide the wince he couldn't hold back. His friends, and most of the cast know by now, not in too much detail, of what went down between the two of you.
A typical short-lived romance of two actors. A summer fling. Most of them would look back and only see it as that.
Even though it was so much more. Even though Ewan still recalls how warm and soft and beautiful you felt as you whimpered underneath him, the loss of you as painful as getting hit by a freight train.
The liquor helps. Burying himself in work helps. Denial... well, that certainly helps the most.
When he goes out to the back garden for a smoke break with Fabien, he tricks himself into believing it's mere curiosity that compels him to say, "Phia mentioned that you guys went to Atlanta."
Fabien is rendered off guard, because he knows what's coming. "Yeah, we did. Bella came with us too. She was visiting me on set," he says, measuredly.
"Mmm." A long drag, a flick of ash towards the ground, an unaffected shrug - and eventually, with as impassive of a tone as he can muster, Ewan asks, "So how is she?"
Fabien smiles knowingly. "She's doing great. Her film's looking pretty good." He's privy to the truth, after he and Phia managed to gently coax it out of you over several martinis at a hotel bar in Atlanta. But he doesn't think it up to him to reveal that to Ewan, out of respect for your privacy.
While he might not share your sentiment, he thinks it's not in his place to tell Ewan that you basically lied for his sake.
But that doesn't mean he won't drop a helpful nugget or two.
"You know, I don't exactly know what's going on... but her and Jacob came across as nothing more than friends."
Ewan's hand freezes mid-air, the cigarette inches from his lips. He loathes the sense of hope that immediately bloomed in his chest. He's so bloody easy. One miniscule hint, and his delusions break through the wall of indifference he worked so hard to build.
"She said she has feelings for him," Ewan stresses, trying to convince himself. What was the fucking point of all this... this pain... if you never did?
"Hey, mate, I dunno," Fabien puts his hands up, "just telling you what I saw."
"It doesn't matter." It does. "She ended it." He wants you back, he will always want you back. "It's better this way."
"Is it?"
Ewan doesn't answer. He doesn't know how to, without grossly embellishing the truth.
Fabien watches his friend, sensing his hesitation as he averts his gaze. One thing becomes clear to him - you and Ewan are far from being over.
So he says, "She misses you, you know."
Ewan regards him with a stony look, one that slowly softens to reveal the broken boy inside. For but a moment, before he clears his throat and throws the butt of his cigarette on the ground.
"Let's head back inside."
▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎
December
You're back in London, as production for your film is paused for the upcoming holiday season.
Work is supposed to be the last thing on your mind, but it just so happens that your manager has you booked for a chemistry read for a yet undisclosed film.
Phia came over to your apartment, insisting that she help you get ready. When you asked how she found out about your audition, she was quick to say that she was up for the role as well but didn't think it was right for her.
"Why not?" you ask, as she hovers over you, patting blush on the apples of your cheeks.
"Oh, you just get a feel for these things."
"Phi, it's just a chemistry read," you say, when she reaches for the mascara. "I don't need to get all dolled up for this."
She gasps, "Oh, but this is showbiz, darling. We always have to put a face on."
"Fine," you relent. "Do your worst."
The makeup she ends up doing on you is minimal, but it enhances your features just the right amount. You rush through your final preparations, folding up the script sample you were given and stuffing it in your purse.
Phia stands out on your balcony, in the middle of a call. The window screen is slightly open, so you hear snippets of the conversation as you walk by.
"Is he ready?" she asks. Who's he? You assume it's the guy you are doing the read with.
You don't know about him, but you are ready, so you stick your head out to say, "I gotta go, Phi."
"Oh!" She startles a little, angling her phone away. "Already?"
"Yeah, the read's at 4, I believe. Just lock the door when you leave, 'kay?"
She hurriedly whispers something to her phone, presumably ending her call. "I'll actually head out with you," she grins. "My work here is done anyway."
"Any plans for the night?"
She shrugs, "Might meet with Tom and Martha."
"Oh, why don't I meet you guys after my thing?"
"Uhhhm," she chews on her lip, thinking. Under her breath, you barely hear her mumble, "... hoping you'd be busy."
"What?" A restrained chuckle escapes you, confused as to why she's being so coy.
"Nothing," she tilts her head. "We can meet if you'd like."
The weird exchange is out of your mind when you arrive at the casting agency. You run the scene through in your head as you walk in the building, up the elevator, down the long hallway.
It's a heartfelt scene, if not a little tense, a dialogue between reunited ex-lovers.
Your manager Polina and publicist Mallory greet you at the doors, swiftly briefing you before directing you in.
"They're waiting, just walk right in, doll," Polina says.
"Okay, wish me luck!" You have your hand on the door handle when Mallory strangely remarks, "Don't hate us, sweetheart!"
"Why would I - "
"Go, go," Polina guides you in, then shuts the door behind you.
The office sports an spacious and open layout, with plenty of natural light streaming through large windows. The primary workstation is partially hidden behind a subtle partition. You see silhouettes of a few people behind it, so you walk down that way.
The figures reveal themselves soon enough - the casting agents you recognise as Patrick and Amie, sitting in front of the actor you're meant to read with.
A range of emotion washes over you, but you don't even have time to reckon with them. The casting agents divert your attention from Ewan, as they approach you with wide smiles in greeting.
"So nice to finally meet you!" Amie croons. "Take a seat. You two already know each other, of course. Between us, there won't really be a question of chemistry here."
"Right?" Patrick adds, looking between you and Ewan. "The fans sure think so, and we have to say we already agree."
"So just give us a minute to set up," Amie says. "Then we'll start."
You smile stiffly, settling down on the opposite end of the couch. You keep your gaze straight, trying to keep your attention on Patrick as he sets up the camera. Your heartbeat races the entire time, and you feel your hands getting clammy.
"They're all in on it," you hear Ewan say, prompting you to finally look at him directly. You take him in hungrily, admiring his outline, ever so handsome with his Targaryen-blonde hair and black leather jacket.
A weak "Mmm?" is all you can muster.
"Our teams, Tom, Phia... they set us up. Tom came over and I overheard him on the phone with Phia."
"Oh," you mumble. He doesn't even spare you a glance, leaning on the armrest on his side of the couch. He looks as if he'd rather be anywhere but here, next to you, and it hurts.
It's what you deserve.
"Is this not a real chemistry read?" you ask meekly.
"I suppose it is," he laughs humourlessly, "but it's not a coincidence that you and I just happen to be the only ones scheduled for today." He turns to you, giving you a critical sideways glance. "Didn't see that coming, did you?"
"I... I can leave if you want - "
"Mmm," his brows furrow, "you do seem to be good at that."
You look away. He is not being fair, but you weren't neither, that wretched night back in September.
And he is making you pay for it now.
But then you hear him speak in a softer tone, "Stay."
Stay. When you look at him once more, his attention is entirely on you, arm outstretched on the couch like he just tried to reach for you but decided against it.
Stay, he asked. So you do.
It's what you should have done, months ago.
"Okay, guys. Whenever you're ready," Amie says. She and Patrick take their seats in front of you, with the camera on a stand between them.
The script crinkles on your lap as you hold it with shaky fingers. "It's been a while," you read out your opening line.
The dialogue plays out twisted and ironic, now that you know who your scene partner is.
"Hardly," Ewan responds in character. "I feel like no time as passed."
"Feels like a lifetime."
He pauses, then sighs, "Do you even miss me?"
"How... how can you even ask me that?"
"How can I - "
"Why didn't you... why didn't you fight for me?" your voice breaks, the lines hitting a bit too close to home.
"You're a fucking hypocrite," he spits with venom. "You weren't exactly giving me anything to fight for."
"I did it for us. I did it all for us." If you didn't feel like crying at the weight of the scene, you would have rolled your eyes at the similarities.
"Like I said - nothing to fight for."
"Nothing? So you're telling me I was nothing to you."
"No," he levels you with an icy look, "you were everything to me. Everything. But you left me behind, and for what? So you can run off with the rebel sect?"
"The mission needed me. You wouldn't understand." You feel a sense of relief when the sci-fi elements roll in, otherwise you might have given in to your emotions and sobbed right there on the damn couch.
"I needed you," Ewan says, eyes not leaving yours. "I needed you and you abandoned me, just like that."
"And are you not better for it? When I left, did they not make you General?"
"See, that is the difference between you and I," he says coldly. "I wouldn't have traded what we had for anything - no position, no amount of wealth, no glory... I would have chosen us every time."
"Aaand cut!" Patrick jokes, effectively breaking the tension.
The two of you have unconsciously drifted closer, now only a foot part. Ewan does not drop your gaze, watching you closely. You see his eyes flit down to your parted lips, and he leans in almost imperceptibly.
"Alright, how about we go one more time?" Amie says, diverting your attention. "Give us a different take, and then that's it!"
Ewan settles back on his end of the couch. When he reads his lines again, his tone is harsher and he no longer meets your eyes.
Patrick and Amie commend you both afterward, singing praises about your acting abilities. Ewan is polite as always, blushing and grateful, but he practically dashes out of the door when the meeting finishes.
You're left standing with Amie, as Patrick has taken to his laptop to file the footage.
"The way he looks at you," she sighs dreamily, referring to Ewan. "You'd think the sun shone out your arse, doll."
"He... he was just in character," you disagree. "He's a good actor, as you know."
"Yeah, I mean, he nailed the part's rancour perfectly. But his eyes - oof - you've got a good one there."
Oh. Of course they would still assume you and him are together.
How desperately you want it to be true.
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An hour later, you've just sent Phia a text saying - You owe me. Where do I meet you guys?
But you hear a knock on your apartment door. If you didn't buzz anyone in, it can only be a neighbour or someone the doorman recognised.
Someone familiar to you.
And it's him.
"Ewan?"
"I need to speak with you."
You step aside so he doesn't linger at your doorway. He walks past you, a welcome if not unexpected presence in the room.
You can't decipher his expression, his gaze angled downward as he leans against your kitchen counter.
When the silence becomes almost deafening, you laugh awkwardly, about to make some silly remark on whether he is still in character. But he doesn't let you diffuse the tension.
"I want you," he blurts out without warning. "God help me, I still want you. I think I might have a fucking problem because how can I... after what you did - " A momentary glance of betrayal, but you see the spite clear in his eyes. " - but I do. I can't get you out of my system."
"I'm sorry - "
"I don't need that," he says sharply. "I don't need your sorry. I need you. I need to have you, and maybe this way, I'll satisfy whatever pointless desire I still have in me."
"What are you saying?"
"I'm saying - I'm asking - will you let me have you?"
"Ewan, I don't under - "
"I'm saying that we should sleep together," he says bluntly, and it feels like the rug has been pulled from under your feet, "but only just. You won't be mine, and I won't be yours."
"You're kidding."
He shakes his head, before adding, "Don't worry. It'll be our little secret. To the rest of the world, I'll have a different girlfriend anyway."
His words register, along with the bitter ache at his words, that you won't be his, he won't be yours. This is purely for pleasure. There used to be love here, and now he just craves the comfort your body allows.
You'll be using each other.
You should refuse. This is not healthy; this is not how you move on. Can you even go back to being good friends after this? But also - what have you got to lose?
What, except for him, and for good this time?
What, except everything?
"So what do you say - " He closes in on you, and with every bit of malice intended, the name no longer possessing the sweetness it once held, he sneers, "- darling?"
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💌 next chapter
Taglist: @namelesslosers @skymoonandstardust @valyrianflower @luckyfirebasement @omgsuperstarg @elissanatok @callsignwidow @sinistersnakey49 @darkwriteracademia @yyrzmomo @queenofshinigamis @luvaerina @shamelessblazecrown @mirandastuckinthe80s @elleinex0x0 @pierrotlu @aegonswife @strangersunghoon @lunampacheco @writer-ann-artist @gaiaea @of-swords-and-words @ateliefloresdaprimavera @m00n5t0n3 @helaenaluvr @peachysunrize @annie-ruk @luvly-writer @ananas26t @athenafaes @lovelyteenagebeard @mamawiggers1980 @moongirl27 @katherine93 @barnes70stark @justbelljust @cloudroomblog @somestufftoday @esposadomd @girl-in-the-chairs-void @insideyourimagination @vyctorya @wildrangers @livcookesgf @onlyrealjoy (continued ... )
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Some notes in the margins...
Well well well... the transition from friends to lovers to strangers to angsty FWBs sure is a slippery slope!
The time jumps are so we get through the moping quicker! It's mostly back to the regular shenanigans in the next part. Only, you know, angst-ridden. But you hurt Ewan, reader. *wags finger* Don't say you didn't expect this switch! Tsktsk
So what now - will you accept this arrangement? Will things ever be truly okay? Part 7 is going to be hot and hilarious and stupid and messy, just as the doctor ordered.
Let's hash it out in the comments, shall we? 🗡💕
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elucubrare · 1 year ago
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What are your biggest turn-offs when reading/watching historical fiction or retellings of myths?
this is really complicated - i can put it in two boxes, both of which are packed very full.
disconnection from the material reality of the past
when characters display a very specifically modern mindset (about social issues especially, but other stuff too)
(I also get bothered by some kinds of modern language - I don't mind it when, idk, an author uses "sensible" with the modern connotation of "practical" and not the 18th century "emotional" or "empathetic", but "yeah" or "okay," or even, as i found out when someone used it in medieval fantasy, "holy shit" will get on my nerves.)
there are modern things where (made up example!) a character who's supposed to be a cook will talk about making caprese salad for a fancy restaurant in December, and someone snarking on the book will say "yeah, right, they should know better than to make something that depends on a fresh summer vegetable!" and even with greenhouses, that's pretty fair. and that's even more extreme in the past. it's 1650 in Verona, it's December, you cannot obtain fresh tomatoes. i don't think this means that people in the past were, necessarily, more emotionally or spiritually in tune with the cycle of the year, or the labor it took to get clothes, or furniture, or any other material item, and of course wealth can insulate people from some of that difficulty, but it does mean that the seasons had more direct impact on people's lives. It's possible to, for example, buy clothes ready-made, but for anything fancy, it's more likely that it'll be made to fit if it's new, or altered extensively and painstakingly if it's not. that means that tearing or staining a fancy dress isn't just an issue of looking bad - you can't just replace it, and you probably won't throw it out - you figure out how to reuse it. those concerns of access to material goods are just a lot closer to the surface of the world than they often are now.
my objections to modern attitudes about the world are not that people in the past 100% accepted the views of their contemporaries - there were always people who didn't, and it makes sense that a protagonist would be one of them. but people wouldn't phrase those objections in the same way that modern people would - say your main character doesn't want a woman accused of being a witch burned. "God's power is such that the Devil cannot give this woman the ability to sour milk" is most likely going to be more persuasive to the crowd than "witches aren't real." and sometimes that's rough - it's not super fun to read about a Roman with Roman attitudes about provincial wars, or slavery in the city, but I put something down because a Roman character said (in internal dialogue) that he was disgusted to see that a man had been tortured because "Romans simply didn't do that." Historical Romans did do that, routinely - a slave could not testify in a law court unless they had been tortured. Even with distasteful things like that, I'd much rather it just be glossed over than to have them say the "correct" modern thing. It just makes it feel too much like the theme park version of the culture.
Both of these are because of specific things I come to historical fiction for - I want that sense of alienation, the gulf of experience. I hate that most historical fiction (and fantasy set in semi-recognizable periods) characters don't really care about Honor, except as a joke, because I love when characters organize their lives around arcane rules and systems that cause tiny things to escalate into blood feud. I just think they're neat! I like it when people's worldviews are shaped by their lack of scientific certainty about what causes crops to fail! If I wanted to read about people who thought and acted like me, and had lives that were mostly similar to mine, only cooler, I'd just read contemporary fiction.
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armageddidnt · 1 year ago
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Welcome to My Collection of Random Thoughts during my nth* rewatch of Good Omens Season 2
*only amazon prime knows the exact number at this point but I’m fairly certain it’s in the double digits
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Episode 1: Gabriel’s fly lurking in the box when Aziraphale first takes it inside 👀
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Crowley’s promise of “two minutes” basically means that he’s been homeless and living in his car for the past 4 years strictly so that he can be within 2 driving minutes of Aziraphale at all times in case his angel needs him I’m not crying you are
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So here I think the key word is “fragile,” Crowley knows they are ostensibly safe from their respective sides but that could change at any moment so he’s basically spent the last 4 years in anxiety-ridden terror hovering as close to Aziraphale as he can to try and protect him from heaven, hell, and anyone else that would want to bring him harm after all that business they pulled in season 1 with stopping Armageddon
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Episode 2: I just happened to pause the episode while Aziraphale is lying to the angels about his miracle and LOL Michael really outdid himself here (Sheen, not the Archangel)
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Gabriel trying to swat flies and almost smashing the repository of every single one of his memories
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I’m cAckling
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So if Good Omens exists in Good Omens, does that mean Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett exist in Good Omens?? Do you think they based their Aziraphale and Crowley characters on Aziraphale and Crowley??
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Episode 3: So I’m trying to find any hints or foreshadowing of the Gabriel Beelzebub thing bc tbh I did kind of feel like it came out of nowhere which is really the only issue I have with them. I found this one scene where Beelzebub almost ?? seems to be concerned about Gabriel ?? But it’s blink and you miss it and there could be lots of other reasons why Beelzebub doesn’t want to fail in locating Gabriel (pressure from/leverage over heaven, etc) so idk
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More Foreshadowing Fly content 🪰
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Episode 4: So here we’ve seen that Shax can just appear inside the Bentley bc she did it earlier to talk to Crowley. Shax only pretended to be a hitchhiker so she could be invited in because Azirpahale was driving so technically she needed permission to cross the threshold of an angel 👀
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This scene will never not destroy me the 1941 flashback is the absolute sOFTEST thing ever to happen on this show
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We really need more context here I need to see the Crowley-Furfur Monkey Rides
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Episode 5: ahahaha thank you google translate for absolutely destroying my sanity this evening
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POP goes the Ziraphale
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Okay I know you can’t hear it in the gif but just before Nina takes Maggie’s hand, there’s a very quiet miracle noise, like Azirpahale literally MADE Nina dance with Maggie, he said I’m writing a Mina Jane-Austen-Ball-AU and my otp will KISS godDAMMIT
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Azirpahale seems lowkey kind of manic this whole scene tho, he’s controlling literally everyone to force Nina and Maggie together and whenever Crowley says anything that pokes holes in Aziraphale’s Magical Jane Austen Ball Fairytale, Aziraphale just straight up denies it. He wants Nina and Maggie to dance and he wants him and Crowley to dance and he refuses to acknowledge anything beyond that.
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Is this just Shax insulting Crowley for how much of a nuisance he’s been or a reference to his former status as an angel ???
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They’re both completely dismissive of each other when they’re trying to say something important and that’s the main issue they’ve been having this entire season tbh
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Episode 6: I think it’s funny that Crowley describes the angels as bees here because in the book, Neil/Terry describe humans the same way. Guess we have more in common than we thought huh?
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So the metatron was the one who originally decided Gabriel would be memory wiped and not sent to hell, and he was also the one that decided not to sound an alarm about Gabriel for some reason and said ‘just go find him yourself’ instead. The metatron has definitely got his own agenda and you can bet he doesn’t want Aziraphale up there in heaven because he’s a “leader” and he’s “honest” like that’s exactly what Gabriel was and look where it got him 👀
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There’s just something I can’t quite put my finger on about the metatron bringing Aziraphale a coffee from “give me coffee or give me death” and then asking Aziraphale if he’s going to take the coffee he’s giving him…
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I have not seen a single person talk about this since s2 came out but Nina literally calls Maggie “angel” because that’s the term of endearment they hear Crowley using for Aziraphale !!!! I’m still going fERAL over this and I can’t believe no one else is eitHER
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Something about this part of The Final Fifteen compared to this scene from the first episode is so representative of the entire season. Azirpahale keeps saying “my way or get out” and Crowley finally hits a wall and can follow Aziraphale no further. So he does just that. He goes.
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I’m sure a lot of us by now have seen this post that brings up how Aziraphale literally pushes the remains of Crowley into his mouth and swallows and it’s the only thing I see when I watch this now
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We still don’t know for certain if Crowley queued up this song to play on their way to the Ritz or if the Bentley started playing it all on its own and it’s driving me insane
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Basically how I am doing after my Truly-Alarming-Number-th watch of this traumatizing episode/season. WELP hope you enjoyed this garbage dump of my thoughts and feelings time to go cry for a bit again BYE
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celestie0 · 1 month ago
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guys its seriously not the end of the world that ihm gojo has an ex wife like fr 😭 he’s a 34 y/o financially stable & attractive grown ass man, i’d be more concerned if he DIDNT have past serious relationships up to this point
some asks i’ve received ab it have been borderline really rude to me about my creative decision to give him the plotline of a past wife who he, yes, was very in love with (or else why tf would he marry her lmfao)
i have received asks of people saying they find it gross, they think that it’s “bullfuckery”, that they actively ignore that aspect of the fic because they disagree/dislike it (like ffs how rude to admit that to me lol), that they don’t think it makes sense for him to be with someone that isn’t reader, that he “loses aura points” for having an ex wife…etc
please think about how that feels to me, as an author, to have my creative decision constantly belittled, questioned, and made irrelevant like that…there are ACTUAL toxic shit you could call a character out for n i wouldnt be mad ab it bc, yknow, that’s warranted. BUT A GROWN MAN HAVING AN EX WIFE? 😭😭
😅 i only really speak up about things when it gets to being too much, and i’m now doing so bc i’ve probably received 15+ asks with these sorts of rhetoric so far and i’m getting kind of sick of it
if you think a 34 y/o man having a prior relationship is “gross” just because it wasn’t with YOU (aka the reader), then i feel like there’s a difference in maturity between you & i and i’d rather not interact w you on that regard
and i’m sorry to say this, but there will be a LOT of ihm gojo’s ex wife in future chapters. there will be an extensive backstory chapter of their marriage too, where i will not shy away from themes of love and sex between them even if it’s not “with the reader”…if you’re gonna feel some type of way about that, then ihm is not the story for you
i don’t resonate with that level of jealousy or possessiveness over a character, hence why i’m comfortable writing about it. if you’re not comfortable reading it, then you’re not going to enjoy what i have planned for ihm
and if you think your passive aggressive words will get me to change my mind about what i choose to do with the story, then you’re wrong
of COURSE he is going to end up with reader in the end, but that doesn’t discount the person that he was before he met her. i want him to stand in ihm as one of the main characters in his own right, n not just as the “love interest”
like idk i just feel awful bc it’s like every month i have to come on here and make some type of boundaries over these sorts of asks that i get n idk if it’s a me problem at this point lmfao?? but i just don’t understand the entitled and rude language that is often thrown my way w regards to my works 😅 but i can’t sit by and pretend like i’m ok with it hence why i’m speaking up and will continue to speak up if it teaches some of you about fanfic author/reader etiquette
as always ily to all my other readers obv this just applies to the rude few n not to all my other beautiful angels 😃😃 much love 💕 and i’m gonna take a bit of a break from here so hope you all have a nice week ahead of you
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sirfrogsworth · 2 months ago
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Meeting my longtime artist and good friend, Chris, IN REAL LIFE!
So, I hadn't been to a restaurant in over a decade. I can't even remember which restaurant since it was so long ago. But in the past few weeks I've now been to TWO restaurants.
I am becoming a social butterfly. 
And it is exhausting.
But also good.
First I reconnected with my high school best friend, John.
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And that went great.
But then the opportunity to see my friend Chris (a.k.a @whosthewhatnow ) came up only a few days later. And this close proximity of social events scared me a bit, but I have been feeling much better since they figured out my heart thing, so I decided to try and do both things even though they were only a few days apart. 
The key to this was strategic resting. As soon as I got home from seeing John, I got in bed and I didn't get out of it until it was time to see Chris. And that was just enough recovery time to pull this off. Typically a short outing requires 2-3 days of rest after. 
I had never met Chris in real life. He has done nearly all of the artwork for my website and comics over the past decade. And he was a main character in my CRAPPRnauts series.
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We know each other so well and it is crazy that we've never seen each other with our very own eyeballs.
He is such an amazing artist. He works fast and he adds so many cool extra details that you can stare at his comic panels multiple times and catch a new joke or easter egg each time. He is a dream to work with and my Corg Life series was only successful because he did such a wonderful job bringing Otis to life in comic form. 
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So we decided to meet up at a restaurant with his friend Michael and then I was going to take a nice portrait of him after dinner. Chris had never had a professional photo taken of himself and I decided to fix that.
I told him I had a mobile photography setup. Which, in reality, is a trunk full of lights and stands and other various camera gear that I definitely won't need, but bring anyway. It's "mobile" in that it all fits in my car if you are good at Tetris (which I am).
The restaurant was downtown and I had visions of St. Louis's famous Gateway Arch in the background of Chris's portrait. I thought that would be such a cool shot. I could see it in my head and I even dreamed about it.
So I got in my car and headed downtown and my GPS told me to exit at 249B. But I kept looking and I couldn't see the sign for 249B.
This is how much road I had left when I finally was able to see the exit for 249B.
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So I ended up taking 249A and going straight to East St. Louis.
Which, if you believe the headlines, is not a place you ever want to be.
Google Maps and I have been having issues lately. They also tried to get me to take the spooky way home that night, but thankfully I actually knew the non-spooky way back from when I used to go to Cardinal games with my parents as a kid.
My short term memory was trashed by shock therapy. And so was a lot of my long term memory. But it finally came through in a pinch and remembered something useful.
I only had to loop around and cross a bridge so I didn't really do anything but touch the edge of East St. Louis. I was mostly concerned about being late for dinner more than its scary reputation. Usually those news stories about a place being "dangerous" are actually just racist and hurtful to people stuck in poverty. I mean, technically my house is in a "dangerous" neighborhood, and we do have trouble with petty crime in some spots, but aside from a few dinged-up mailboxes, I've never felt unsafe in my home.
On the way back to regular St. Louis I could see the Arch on the horizon at sunset and it was kind of magical. And I wasn't able to get a good shot of it, but it sure looked pretty from my point of view. 
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My photos kind of remind me of the beginning of movies like Training Day where they are trying to show you gritty, dutch angle shots of the city out of the car window to give you a sense of the location.
As I approached the restaurant I invented a new genre I call "stoplight photography." The sky was orange and the streets of St. Louis were just asking to be photographed. But I wasn't willing to die to get neat photos, so I just took them at every red light.
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The big trick was trying to edit the dark area at the top of my windshield out of the photos to make it look like I didn't take these pictures from my car.
After a 15 minute detour through Illinois I arrived at my destination—a Mexican place called Rosalita's. It had a beautiful sign, so I took that literal sign as a metaphorical sign it was a nice place to get a quesadilla. 
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Dinner was great. Both signs were right and their quesadilla was very tasty. Chris and I both got one, so we are quesadilla twins. The waitress was one of those "I can remember your order without writing anything down" types. And I am one of those, "I get anxiety when things aren't written down" types. And, to her credit, she did not forget our orders. But she did forget to give us silverware and napkins. So I still feel like my anxiety was valid. 
We told sad stories of the pups we lost. But we also had a lot of fun and laughed and I got to meet Michael who turned out to be an absolute mensch. I sometimes have trouble meeting new people with my social anxiety, but he was very affable and made me feel comfortable with his presence almost right away. He was a fan of Otis and mentioned he still has a Super Otis shirt. I always get choked up hearing that Otis is still loved. Hopefully we get to meet again. 
Dinner ended and it was picture time.
I asked Chris if he wanted the high effort photo or the low effort photo. Either we figure out how to get to the Arch or we find a spot near the restaurant and just take his portrait there. Chris and Michael had a driver because they were coming from a big conference and getting to the Arch would have been complicated. So we decided to go with the low effort option. 
I found a cool shop nearby that had an LED wall that changed to all sorts of different colors. And I thought that would make a neat background and give a colorful edge light on Chris's face. I pulled my car near that spot and started unloading my trunk full of photo gear.
I think Chris and Michael were a little overwhelmed when I started pulling camera gear out of my trunk like a clown pulling an endless handkerchief out of his mouth. But as far as photo setups go, it was actually pretty minimal. 
Light, giant battery, light stand, umbrella, tripod, camera, rolling walker with seat.
My dad's old rollator came in clutch because I wanted to shoot from a low angle and it is hard for me to bend down. In fact, I think I'm going to look into getting an all terrain version so I can do more outdoor photoshoots.
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I started shooting in the middle of a downtown sidewalk. And I was super anxious. I could not focus (my brain, not my camera). I was very distracted with all of the people walking by and staring. I was not sure if any of the photos were turning out. I wasn't even sure if they were in focus (my camera, not my brain) because I had not yet had my lens calibrated. But down the street there was a guy with an old school boombox playing random music. His music helped to drown out the ambient noise and gave me some comfort.
I had no clue if the photos were any good, but when I got home and checked them on my computer, I realized I have 12 years of experience and muscle memory built up. I probably should have just trusted myself because the photos all turned out great.
I think Chris can now officially say he has had a professional portrait taken of himself.
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This photo has been officially loved by Chris's girlfriend and mother.
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There is no greater seal of approval and I am honored.
I was able to comp in any of the colors the wall displayed from other shots in case Chris is feeling a little more green in the future.
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A literal rainbow of options.
I also liked this one, though it is a little more "environmental portrait" than regular portrait.
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And I got some nice photos of our little group to help us remember the night. 
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And I got a bunch of photos of Chris making silly faces like Calvin at his school photoshoot. 
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I love this woman's reaction to our little impromptu sidewalk photo shenanigans.
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After we said our goodbyes and I gave my friend a hug, I was a little bummed I didn't get to photograph him at the Arch like I had dreamed.
But then I realized I had my own car and it was capable of taking me places. (I actually haven't gotten used to that after not driving for nearly 15 years.)
So I decided to drive a few blocks over to Kiener Plaza—a park with a view of the Arch. 
TO BE CONTINUED...
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midnightstar-kpopsmut · 2 months ago
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Chapter III, Stick it
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- I stayed there for a couple of seconds – said Cheongtae -. I didn’t really know what to do after Karina bluntly asked for my help. Maybe it’s not even that, not knowing what to do. Sometimes I am just moody. You know that from the outside I can look like a tall, muscular, confident guy, but I don’t need much to be thrown off guard. I don’t have that kind of fast smart like reaction that other guys have. So a few seconds of that can be quite uncomfortable for me. You know what I mean. I actually think I have many repressed thoughts, like why would I be uncomfortable, like ever? It’s not like I have a knife to my throat if someone says something strange to me, so there must be many memories and fears that arise to me in those kind of moments, or in this moment with Karina.
- He is just stupid – added Jimmy to the recollection of events -, but I didn’t want to say that to him or it would have took him two weeks to finish his story. So I just said in Korean “I feel you, keep going.”, which is very difficult to learn and I can’t teach you now, and he kept going.
I follow Karina on the sofa zone, she is leading me. I told you how the middle of the room is strangely down elevated, you gotta take one or maybe two steps down. That makes me notice that she is barefoot, I had took some slippers at the entrance, but she hasn’t any, not even socks. Barefoot. Not that I care, because I am not into feet, I don’t understand what’s the point of that. I am waiting for someone to explain it to me. Anyway. We get to the middle of all the sofas, I am waiting for us to sit, but instead she turns and faces me. She is distressed. Just a touch, but she is so pretty, so it is easy to notice. She looks at me straight into the eyes and says: - Can you... hide them?
“Hide them? Hide what?” I think. O right, her breasts. That’s what we were talking about just before. - How would I hide them? - I say.
- Can’t we do some shape that would draw the attention away from them?
I shake my head slightly. You can’t draw attention away from tits that just gained two sizes and are stretching out of closely fitted clothes.
She sees that I am not convinced. - Do I need longer extensions? - I look at her and say: - Don’t you have already some on? - No! - she quietly screams by protruding her lips – Those are mine. Who are you confusing me with?!
Like I told you I had not seen her for a few months. I get why she scolds me, I didn’t took it personal, she was looking out for competition. Idols can be so possessive of their look and team.
- The only thing that could hide them, I mean draw attention away, is maybe a bob cut. But I don’t think we can go for that without consulting the rest of your team. Especially Hansuk, I need her approval. - Hansuk is the head of the visual branch of Aespa, added Cheongtae to Jimmy, she coordinates make-up, hair and clothes. Not married, sharp, you should meet her. Jimmy wasn’t interested. So he kept pressing Cheongtae to hear the rest of the story.
- I am NOT getting a bob cut. That is horrid. What is that? The idiots that think they can get away with a bob cut in our industry... Shameful. - She took a step toward me. - Try something else.
I evaluate my options. She has indeed call me for something complex, as I had imagine. At least she doesn’t seem to want to get a real cut right now, just get a feeling of what we can do.
- Shouldn’t we go in another room? - I say -. One with a mirror... A chair?
- Why? - says Karina, concerned – Here it’s ok. You can sit. It’s very comfortable.
She gently sits down on the main sofa, tries to calm herself. I put myself on her right, what else can I do?
- Oppa, you look at us everyday. You see that this is a big... change.
She puts her hands on the air around her tits and moves them, to further highlight what she is talking about.
- Why did you do it if you don’t like them? - I add.
- Oh but I do like them – she replies -, I always wanted them big.
I nod, then realize I am nodding as a reflex, and dare to ask -... Why? Why do you like them?
She gets aggressive: - I don’t know. I feel like guys like them big... Don’t you?
- Sure. - I wasn’t lying. I wouldn’t say it is breast is what I think about first, but still. Big can be nice.
She keeps going: - But my fans... They can be so... limited. I am famous for being savage, powerful. Not cheap.
- I know – I say. She was right. Kpop groups go out with a very defined look in mind. It’s difficult to break out from it, even with different concepts, it is not something you should usually aim for.
She rapidly flutters her eyelashes at me and says: - Do I look... cheap?
- No, you don’t. - I promptly answer. She was as classy and expensive as always. There was just something in her crop top, the fluffy texture, that gave her more of “that kind” of look. And it arguably made her breast look even bigger. As if you had to touch them. A devilish loop. But there was no point to underline that, she would have changed her outfit completely for the comeback.
- I am Karina – she says -, not some stupid whore... - She takes her phone out of her pocket and says: - Let me show you.
She gets on youtube and starts typing and swiping, looking for a specific video. She finally finds it and turns it to me.
- Here, her. - She says while starting the video.
The video is a performance of Kiss of Life on Mnet, dating of the 24th of July. - Stick it. - I say.
Karina pauses the video and gives me a tap on my left leg: - It’s Sticky. Not Stick it. You are such a dog...- She presses play again.
I don’t know Kiss of Life much, but in this performance one of the fourth members was giving much more then the others, in my opinion. She is boldest, more defined and you could say just more... vulgar.
- You are looking at Natty, right? - Says Karina.
- I don’t know their names. – I reply.
- The one with the big tits.
- She has quite a character.
The video goes on, on the refrain you can hear “Sticky, Sticky, Sticky”, the four members all slam their asses, then squat, then rise up and bend forward while turning their head to the camera. But Natty improves on the choreography by keeping her mouth fully open while she shakes her ass. The camera clearly favors her.
Karina stops the video exactly at that point, with Natty wide open in front of my face.
I try to say something: - See, she has a bob cut – she indeed had one -. You look at her face more than her... body.
Karina’s face looks disgusted. - She is such a whore. She will never get it. Kpop is not just about making guys hard.
I agreed. While looking at Natty spreading her legs, looking down, opening her mouth... I am surely not focusing on the song.
Karina notices it: - Even you! Look at you! You are looking at her open mouth.
I try to bring back the discussion to our common interest, her own look: - You don’t need to do that. We can use a big bandana for you. The attention will stay on your face and you will look fierce.
- I am so pissed – says Karina -, you heard that I had to stop see my guy, right? While this slut does this on stage.
I remember that Karina was dating a hot Korean actor that she had met in Milan for some fashion event, she was then spotted in Seoul by paparazzi and had to apologize publicly. I had heard rumors that she was still seeing him, though.
Karina continues: - If I get ANY hate for my boobs... I swear, I’ll kill someone.
She starts swiping again on her phone.
- This was the maximum I was allowed to do on stage.
The new video is a snippet from a performance of Next Level, one of Aespa biggest songs. Karina press play.
In the video, while the aggressive rhythm fills the venue, the four Aespa members bends forward, and Karina gently hits Winter’s ass with her hand,
On her living room Karina follows the video and hums: - Next level wa... - she taps my leg again, while the clip plays for a second time.
Then I don’t know if it is because we are not having a lot of sex with my wife, you often told me I should fuck her more, since she is pretty and all, but you know how it is with her, or because I am tensed with the whole idea of having to do an urgent work for Karina, plus the videos of course... Well, I start to stiffen in my pants.
The second play-through of the video ends, but Karina’s hand stays on my left leg. I can’t really brush her off, that wouldn’t be polite.
- Oppa – she says-, do you think I should get rid of this savage style? Be like Natty, just go... all in?
- You should do whatever you like. - I say, like an idiot.
- Oh, really... - She replies with a tone.
Karina slightly moves her fingers on my inner, left, tight. My dick is slowly and luckily growing to the right. My pants are large, so it stays barely perceptible.
She keeps adding – Maybe if I change my stile once and for all they will let me date. I kind of miss him. He is very, very horny. - She looks in my eyes to see how I react. Then looks at herself and says: - He is always looking at my big tits...
And there it is. At that point I get tired of this whole bullshit. This calling me on the middle of the afternoon to work on her hair, the long list of complaints, the talking to me about her boyfriend... I can’t take it anymore and jump on her.
I grab her small head and enormous mass of hair with my hand and throw my head at her lips. I am not that aggressive usually, but she had really annoyed me. So...
She can barely breath through the kiss, I don’t let her. She aggressively taps my leg with her hand, so I relax the kiss and grab her tits in response.
- Oppa!! - she says like a surprised kid – What are you doing?
Obviously I don’t stop. She is just acting up.
- This is not very professional... Even Jae doesn’t go this fast...
Right, Jae-wook. That’s the name of her actor boyfriend.
I grab Karina’s hand and move it to my now hard dick. She starts to squeeze it through the pants.
- Why are you in such a rush – says Karina-, I thought you needed more time...
- More time for what? - I ask, even though I hopes for her to shut up.
- To cheat on your pretty wife... - she says.
- Oh, fuck off. - I stand up and raise her light body with a finger. Then bend her to the head of the sofa and start pushing against her ass. We are still both clothed.
- I thought you liked my face, all those time you looked at me at your shop... Guess I was wrong!
I remove her cargo pants and underwear in a single movement. Then my own pants.
She is wet enough, and I am not in the mood to waste more time to make it comfortable for her. I grab my dick and push it in.
Now that I am fucking her, she has finally stopped talking. She gracefully arch her back to me, you can see that all the Kpop training is paying off. I should not be doing this, but then again who cares, I am not the first of the team that has fucked one of the idols, as you know this is more common than people can imagine. Their job is hard, and we all need to relax.
She slightly pushes her body against me. Her hips, previously enhanced by the cargo pants, are quite fragile. I grab them with my hands and slam her in response. She squeak.
Feeling my rhythm settling Karina pushes me harder, she wants more of the slams, but I am not ready to give it to her. To make her point she flaunts her thick, dark and long hair. I look at them, they are quite imposing. I have trimmed and reshaped those hair to perfection dozen of times. Watching them moving from behind is quite a spectacle. I stiffen. Karina groans and pushes. It is like fucking a lion. I get even harder.
- Oppa – she says-, you are so big...
I am surely bigger than normal. And I am quite proud of it. - Not only for a Korean – adds Jimmy -, he is bigger than a western guy as well.
I push my fully hardened dick inside her and say: - Isn’t it too big? My wife says it hurts her sometimes...
- Oppa... Your wife doesn’t like your huge dick? - She says while turning her head to me. - How is that possible, I like it so much... - her cunt contracts.
- She says she hits her at the end and it hurts. - I add.
- Then it’s not really cheating... - Karina says, closing her eyes – She can keep your bored, sloppy dick...
She touches my right hand on her waist and adds: - I’ll take the huge horse cock of yours... It goes so well with my big tits...
I instantly bend forward and grab her new big breasts through her soft crop top. I bury my head into her cascade of dark hair. My dick is now swelling in pain. The rhythm through which I slam it inside Karina rapidly intensifies.
- Oppa... You are going too fast... - she says.
I don’t answer and cover her mouth with one of the hands.
She frees herself from it and says: - Be careful... you don’t want to make me pregnant.
- What? - I ask while leaving her tits and putting myself straight up again – You don’t take the pill?
- I don’t take anything! - she says, while still pushing her ass and body against me. - Those shit are not good for your skin. But keep going... Tell me when you are almost there...
We keep pushing for a few more seconds, at that point I am almost done, who wouldn’t and I let her know.
- Wait for me... - says Karina. She pushes me out of her, puts herself on her knees in front of the sofa and grabs my dick with her two hands. - You can finish on my face.
I am almost there. She looks at me with her big, dreamy eyes and says: - Oppa, do you like my... - but then I explode into her face. Which at least makes both her eyes and mouth close shut. She keeps stroking my dick in silence. Her face is covered with my full built up of load.
There is one main river of sperm, the thickest one, that goes through her lips. A second, smaller one, deviates left on her cheek. Multiple other droplets constellate the rest of her face, which she has masterfully bended back to avoid staining her eyes.
Karina keeps her eyes closed, enjoying the feel of the sperm on her face.
While looking at her I realize that, even through my numerous sexual encounters, I had never seen something so beautiful. It must have been the makeup, or the hair, or whatever else. Strangely enough, I had never had sex with an idol before.
Karina’s face looks like a painting.
That’s when I reach for my pants, specifically for the phone in my pocket. Karina thinks that I want to go and complains cutely. I give a pump of blood to my dick, so that it will look good on the picture. Karina feels it getting bigger into her hands and smile, still with her eyes closed. Resting like a diligent worker on her break.
I take the picture, put my phone away, and rise my pants.
She opens her eyes and throw herself into the couch.
- I should go – I say. Then I notice her horny look on her face and add: – Did you come?
- No, sorry – she says -. I think I need something more. To come, I mean.
- Yes, I get it. - I answer. What else could I have said? I didn’t have anything more than that to give. And it was also getting pretty late. Girls very often cannot get excited by sex alone, they need feelings, something like that. I said to myself that it must be the same for Karina.
I act with care and help her clean her face with a napkin. I am her employee after all. She doesn’t want me or her to go to the toilet to wash up though, strange.
Instead she grabs a soda from her fridge and rushes me off the apartment. Out in the hot city of Seoul.
- That is how Cheongtae told me he got this picture. - Said Jimmy. The American looked at him, wanting to know more.
- What did you say was your name, again? - Added Jimmy.
- Steven – said the American, that we can now call by his name -, my name is Steven, but you can call me Steve.
Jimmy waited for Steve’s question, which arrived after a few seconds: - Can I talk with Cheongtae? I’d really want to know more about his work in Kpop, it would help me for my job here as well.
- Well, that would be nice – said Jimmy -, very nice. Problem is Cheongtae told me this story one week ago, it had just happened, and I can’t get in contact with him since then.
- What do you mean, you can’t get in contact? - Asked Steven.
- What I mean is, that Cheongtae has disappeared. We are quite close. But I don’t know where he is.
At that Steven didn’t had an immediate follow up question. So we will have to wait and see for the next chapter to know more about his own train of thoughts.
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spdrvyn · 9 months ago
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miguel and his sunshine human gf that loves to annoy the shit out of him and sometimes in order to stop her/calm her down he has to put her in an air jail 🤭
ardor and annoyance
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miguel and reader who's a bundle of energy and joy. having to tame your late night rituals is no easy task, but it's one that he's always willing to take. what's more important than having your dear lover in bed with you?
pure fluff. reader can be seen as either civilian/spider. is it really one of my fics if i don't write about how much miguel hates himself even by just a little bit
dividers by @cafekitsune
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What Miguel learned from being a leader, setting an example, being his mother's son, and serving as a hero was patience. 
It was a value that he had slipped up on from time to time, more often with himself. If he ever found himself at wit's end with someone else, he would mope until it passed or wait to get some precious alone time and healthily expresses his emotions by making a mess of his quarters and breaking down until he'd get tired and just sleep it off, restarting this precious cycle. 
Eventually though, he had begun to no longer exhaust himself by getting angry. Unless the entire multiverse was at stake (ahem), then he'd have to spring into action. But his main priority now is to fix the problem, get it over with, rinse, and repeat. 
When you entered his life, he realized that there was more to his ridiculous routines, more than his self-destructive attitudes, and that true patience came with love and caring as well. Obviously, he's light years away from being content with himself, but you redirect him, navigating through when that dastardly cycle repeats, so that you can wash it away and make him anew. 
Miguel isn't the only one that has his layers peeled back though, there's so much that he notices about you. That composed and mature persona that you set up for yourself, that has built good albeit only professional connections with the other spiders eases its way into a bubbly and joyful demeanor whenever you're around him. 
It almost didn't make sense, Miguel just seemed like the kind of guy to not want to do that with, to not want to relax around. He couldn't even relax on his own, the thought that anyone could feel comfortable in their own skin around him was shoved into the back of his mind. That connection that he so painfully needs is put aside for prioritizing the safety of everyone everywhere else. 
Your true nature is infectious, to his dismay. It's too difficult to avoid the care that you're so insistant on giving him, it started with working overtime, to enjoying working overtime, to going over to Miguel's place for work purposes, to going over to Miguel's place for non-work purposes to kissing him for the first time, and now you're dating. 
The catch with Miguel having let loose around him was that all that conserved energy circulated around his apartment, whenever he got home from another long day at the Society, he'd climb into you doing five different things all at once. Reading, watching a show, watching a baking show, baking a cake, and texting. 
It was hectic, nothing that he couldn't handle, but how you're not on the verge of collapsing probably deep into the trenches of the night concerned him. For slightly more selfish reasons, Miguel doesn't like not having you in bed with him. This wasn't as extreme as the missions he took up at work, but it was a mission nonetheless.
You're... Busy, Miguel doesn't know what with. He sees yarn, he sees cookie dough, he sees a laptop, tablet, phone, and headphones, and so many other trinkets that are buried under the pile that you've built on the kitchen counter. Your focus shifts between each individual station, and Miguel shifts closer and closer to you quietly. 
You're occupied on the laptop, occasionally looking at the stove while you're doing so. Then returning to your yarn and now knitting needles? Before mixing the cookie dough even more and even liking the mixture off of the spoon, humming to yourself contently. 
You don't even notice that Miguel is right behind you, until he secures you against his front and lifts you up with a squeal. 
"Miguel!" You whine, squirming against his solid arms. Your feet swing in the air and you try to push his hands away from your midsection, but there's no use in trying to free yourself when it's with him anyway. 
"Go to sleep. No más tonterías, cariño." His voice is fogged by sleep, as his grasp on you tightens. You turn slightly with what little space that you have and you can see his slumber muddled stature. Tousled hair, relaxed expression, eyes half-lidded, and he raises a brow at your staring. "What?"
"Nothing," you sigh, "I'll go to sleep, you just have to let me go."
Miguel shakes his head, rocking your swinging body from side to sidet to go along with it as well. "No, I don't trust you." There's a humorous fry to it, you accentuate the pout on your lips, and he laughs. 
It takes a little while for you to convince him to put you down, you can't say this is the most uncomfortable position for you. Whenever you're around Miguel, you always wind up in his arms one way or another, but this time that principle is just being used against you. The conversation shifts, less about your captivity, more about Miguel's day, your day, anything new outside, anything new in Spider Society. The position you're in, the silky nature in his voice, it gets you groggy and Miguel can sense it. 
He wins. 
He handles you to the bed properly now, laying your once tireless form onto the comforter as he tucks you in. You don't even try objecting anymore, the stove is still on, the video on your laptop was probably still playing, and that knitting project will have to remain unfinished until tomorrow, but it was fine. You know that everything is fine when Miguel gets into bed with you, pressing his lips to the top of your head in one long kiss. 
He wins this little dispute of yours, but you know that you've won at life knowing that your nights end like this, engulfed in his embrace, the sound of his breathing bringing you to a deep sleep as well. 
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mr-ys-phantasma · 11 days ago
Text
🌙 Moon Phases 🌙
Agatha Harkness X Fem!Reader
Word Count 1703
Chapter 31:
Teen had just used his powers, for the first time truly manifesting their beautiful blue glow and slightly electric nature were getting out of control.
His anger, his grief... they were the main emotions controlling him, and he acted impulsively on his thoughts, sending all three witches into the mud; off the road.
He destroyed that damn sigil, no longer needing it, and he had chosen to wait...only that he didn't think through one thing.
You showing up.
He expected Rio to have joined you, and yet here you stood alone. Your eyes met, and before he could try and talk, explain what happened; your eyes glew white.
A strong force sent him flying back, air knocked out of his lungs rather forcefully. And then, the very same force pressed him against the trunk of a tree, white magic glowing all around him; keeping him up and trapped.
In a moment of panic, his magic glowed, but immediately it started to flicker as your white magic covered his hands.
"Wha...what...?" He exclaimed in surprise, not expecting it.
"My power neuters enemy magic," you explained briefly as you took a few steps closer, arms up and facing him.
White magic had come alive, wrapping around your fingers and wrist like veins; thin and delicate strands glowing with life and moving with a mind of their own.
"Please... Y/N..."
"Where is Agatha? Where are they?" You demanded to know. "What did you do?!"
Your magic pressed him more against the wooden truck, and he could feel the splinters digging into his back. "I... I didn't mean it..." he groaned, trying to ignore the newfound pain. "Please...I..."
Your bottom lip trembled slightly in frustration, and you found your anger subsiding as fast as the tides when the moon was low.
You brought your hands to the sides, white magic dying and letting him land not so smoothly on the ground.
Oh, you were pissed and annoyed, and your head was a mess with your feelings and Rio in the mix. You were on guard, and you would get your answers... but not this way.
This was not like you. You were not one to use your powers for harm and pain unless there was no other choice left, and even then, you held back.
Plus, you had started to warm up to the boy, and you could not really harm him or call him a liar so openly. For something deep inside of you was relating to him, to his journey, and so you chose to let him go.
He coughed and slowly stood up, feeling his back complaining from the meeting with the tree trunk but he looked at you with a thankfully look; not expecting you to truly spare him, let alone so quickly.
"Talk. Now, " You demanded, your tone commanding and sharp; like a mother scolding a child.
He took a deep breath. "I was just very angry with how they treated Alice's death and i lost control of my powers and sent them off the road and I am sorry and I dont know how I did it" he spoke fast, barely taking any breaths and hoping it would prevent you from hearing everything.
But you were a fast student, and you picked up everything. You swore you could feel a vein popping on your right temple, pressure budling up as white magic cracked between your fingers; making him take a step back in fear.
"What?!" You exclaimed, louder than before. "You tossed them off the road?!"
"It was an accident, I swear. I was just very angry. " he tried to excuse while backing away, only for you to match his steps by approaching him.
"Do you have any idea what you have done?!" You moved your hands wildly. "Do you?!"
Teen walked back, feeling afraid and planning to find some rock or thick tree to hide behind. He knew you were a kind person and he genuinely liked you but you resembled so much an angry mother at that moment... that he genuinely was concerned.
Before anything could happen, though, the sound of someone coughing and struggling made you turn your heads, only to see Agatha slowly crawling from the mud she was thrown into.
She had grabbed a nearby tree root and was slowly trying to escape the sticky sinking mud.
"Agatha!" You exclaimed and rushed her way, ignoring Teen while your anger disappeared the moment you saw your lover.
She accepted your help to get out of that stinky mud trap, more than once threatened to slip and lose her grip on you, but managed to prevent it.
In the end, she was out dirty but alive.
Leaves stuck to her muddy clothes, and even her hair had stuck together. Her hands, in an attempt to claw out, had mud beneath her fingernails, and she had managed to stand your white shirt when she grabbed you to be helped out of the trap.
You could care less, though. Your clothes were not as clean as when you first entered the road and you didn't care. It was clothes, simple and unimportant.
You could change them when this was all over.
"Thank the mother, you are okay," you said, inspecting her for any other injury she may have suffered.
So far, she seemed okay, unharmed, and simply sticky and dirty. She didn't push your hand away but kept her gaze locked on the one responsible for this trouble... Teen.
It was then Agatha took notice of his appearance and also the small parts of dirt and wood sticking on his clothes.
"I see you got to him first," she commented, trying to unglue a muddy strand from her cheek.
"More than once," you commented and also looked at him.
His gaze shifted between guilt and pride, trying not to react to your gazes and words.
"Well, careful there, sugar. If he is that much like his mother, he will learn and get you back next time you two clash, " Agatha said, making you frown.
"Like his mother?" You questioned.
Agatha smirked, and you swore her eyes grew misty, her tough facade slipping away. "Yes... the son of the Scarlet Witch. " she looked at him with odd care. "It's good to see you again, Billy,"
"Billy Maximoff," you mumbled, remembering finding that name across the star charts one day when you were trying to find Agatha's whereabouts and maybe try some... old spells to check up on her.
"Billy....William..." The boy said, still conflicted between the two people he is or was or tries to be.
He had a complicated double life he never asked for but had to learn to navigate on his own.
As Agatha started to poke around the Bush, testing the limits and patience of the boy; you managed to get a good idea. She was also kind enough to fill in the blanks.
Basically, Wanda had created two sons within the hex that you knew from rumours. After all, the appearance of the Scarlet Witch had shaken many in the magical community.
After the battle between Agatha and Wanda, the one you learned that your lover had her powers drained, Wanda dropped the hex.
And yet her powerful but still untrained son had managed to slip and escape, find a recently empty body, and inhabit it.
Your gaze softened when you saw the conflict within him and how he tried to hide the guilt he felt, for taking over the life of someone else; even if that someone had passed away.
"She is right, you know," you chose to comment after Agatha finished her speech about why he shouldn't feel bad for what he did. "The rules were never meant for our kind. They were never fair to us. To survive, we learnt to bend and even break them. "
Your words had a personal touch behind them, and Billy quickly understood that you had been in something similar. Maybe not the same, but your past had not been perfect and light and peaceful, evident by your romantic favour towards Agatha and the scars you bore.
And he was right.
For you were meant not to harm, let alone kill, unless something was truly the Darkest spot and a danger to everything.
That was your role, your mission...
And yet you broke it when you killed those witch hunters, even if it was in self-defense. You broke the rules to survive.
Maybe not break, perhaps bent since those men truly were danger for you and other witches... but the ending remained the same.
But of course, this sweet little moment couldn't remain; not with Agatha; who chose to test the waters once again.
Though this time, Billy seemed to have trouble working his powers; a proof he had yet to master control over them, especially when not enraged.
"Whatever." He exclaimed, trying not to let her get inside his head and under his skin. "You know it's there. I can finish The Road on my own."
Agatha smirked. "Oh, sure, with all that power you can't control without throwing a temper tantrum."
"I'll figure it out!"
Deciding that you had enough, you chose to enter this little conversation as you walked to stand by your lover's side.
"You won't have to because you will be coming with us," you said, earning surprised looks from the two. They parted their lips to argue, but you lifted your hand, palm facing them; a sign not to interrupt you. "We lost Alice when we turned on one another. We are not losing anyone else. We work together, get to the end of this hellish road, and then get out of here. "
They muttered in agreement, knowing you were right and that it was also wiser not to argue with you. Especially after the show you did with the ghost of Evanora, they knew better.
And so, the three of you started to walk down the yellow leaved covered path towards your next trial; expecting that Lilia and Jen would catch up with you one way or another.
Or at least that was what you personally hoped for, unsure if it would become a reality.
Chapter 32
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band--psycho · 2 months ago
Text
Sylus x Reader x Zayne- Birthday Surprises (SYLUS)
Please be kind, reblogs are always welcome and greatly appreciated!
Thank you all for the continued support! I hope you all enjoy this! 💛
Requests are open so if you have any ideas/requests, you're more than welcome to send them over.
I do not give permission for any of my works to be copied or translated onto this site or other platforms
Part 2
Main Masterlist / Sylus Masterlist / Zayne Masterlist / Join My Taglist
Don't worry there are going to be multiple parts to this story!
Warnings: Possesive and Obsessive Sylus, Love Triangle, Complicated feelings, Sexual tension, Choking (Minors DNI)
Sylus was used to an unusual sleeping pattern; even having nights where he barely slept at all. 
But dreaming whilst he was sleeping….that was something entirely new. 
The first time it happened, he thought for a brief moment that you were really with him, that was until he looked at the empty side of his bed. 
He hated how his heart ached at the realisation that you were only a dream.
He thought that it was a one time thing, until he dreamt of you again the following night. 
He’d never dreamed before. 
Not really. 
Not until he met you. 
Then he couldn’t seem to stop. 
Whenever he would close his eyes and allow the darkness of sleep to take a hold of him, you would always show up. 
Sometimes you’d be talking to him about work; sometimes he’d hear the echo of your laugh in his mind and sometimes you were just simply sitting in a park with a book in your hand…
It was driving him insane, how much he missed you, how much he craved to hear your laugh, or yearned to see your smile…he felt like a lovestruck teenager.
And he both loved and hated it. 
He spent the next two weeks like this; he tried not to think about you, but it seemed the harder he tried, the more unsuccessful he was. 
He just couldn’t get you out of his head.
That’s when he knew he needed to see you…He knew he had to be careful, he couldn’t just waltz up to you outside of the Association and talk to you. 
But the second he laid eyes on you; he knew he couldn’t turn back. 
He had to see you today. 
And it was perfect because today was your birthday; if ever there was a day to surprise you, it was today. 
But his little plan started slowly falling apart when he saw you laughing because of something a dark haired man had said; it made his blood boil in his veins. 
He thought about using his evol to just pull you towards him; but they could arouse suspicion, especially from the man you seemed to be so friendly with. 
“Boss?�� Luke asked from the driving seat; it was obvious to the twins who were sitting in the front of the car that they were going to be following you, but doing so was risky, if they were caught, it wouldn’t just endanger them but you as well. 
“Follow her,” Sylus’ baritone voice ordered. 
Luke nodded obediently, putting his foot on the accelerator a little, knowing that he had to keep enough distance between you and the car that neither you nor your new friend would get concerned;  but close enough that they wouldn’t lose you.
~~~~~~
After about thirty minutes, they were down the road from your apartment; the apartment that you and the mysterious man you were with had disappeared into. 
Sylus was leaning with his arm resting on the door armrest;  his lips pursed in a thin line as he continued sitting in his car, staring out the window, waiting for the man to leave your apartment so he could talk to you without any disruption. 
Sylus wasn’t sure how much time had passed until he saw a raven haired man leave your building; but in all honesty he didn’t care. 
As soon as the man was out of sight; he wasted no time in exiting his car and heading to your apartment and knocking on your door.
“Zayne, how do you always manage to forget your glasses,” he heard you call out from behind the door; hearing footsteps hurriedly rush towards the door; making a rage course through Sylus’ veins. 
Zayne? 
So that was the name of the man she was with.
“Sorry to disappoint you sweetie,” Sylus said with a hoarse voice that sent a chill down your spine, as you opened the door, puzzlement written all over your face. 
“Sylus?” You questioned; confused by what the hell he was doing here, especially today. 
“The one and only,” he smirked, “aren’t you going to invite me in?”
You were tempted to slam the door in his face; but you knew how stubborn Sylus was, knew that even if you did that, he’d still be outside your apartment tomorrow morning, and that would just put the both of you at risk. 
So you moved out of the way, allowing him entry to your home before quickly closing the door behind. 
“What are you doing here?” You inquired, folding your arms as you stared at him.
“Can’t I just drop by and pay you a visit on your birthday?” He replied, as though him being here was the most normal thing in the world when in reality it was anything but. 
“No,” you answered bluntly, you didn’t have time for this, you were meant to be meeting Zayne and a few people from work for drinks in a few hours.
If you were late, they’d have questions, if you didn’t show up, they’d worry. 
“Tsk, if I were a lesser man your words would wound me, sweetie,” Sylus retorted back making you roll your eyes: 
You didn’t have time for this.
But you also couldn’t shake the curiosity that piqued in your mind about why he was actually here. 
You hadn’t seen him since he gave you a lift back to Linkon City in his private helicopter a few months ago. 
You’d texted him a few times, but never got a reply so you just assumed he wasn’t interested in being friends (or more) anymore.
You’re not ashamed to admit that it broke your heart a little; you weren’t in love with Sylus, but you knew that you could’ve…
And being ghosted like that when you thought the two of you understood one another, hurt. 
But your slightly cracked heart healed; it was after this that you and Zayne grew closer. 
“Sylus, please just leave,” you sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose in frustration. 
Why was he doing this? 
Today of all days. 
“That’s a nice necklace, ” Sylus deflected your plea, reaching out and lifting the necklace off of your chest, allowing him to look at it more closely, “Where did you get it from?”
“It was a gift,” you breathed, trying to ignore how even the slightest touch of his fingers brushing against your skin, made you feel weak at the knees..
“From Zayne?” 
Jealousy laced his words and darkened his eyes. 
Jealousy was an emotion you’d never seen in Sylus before, but you couldn’t deny that something inside you loved seeing him like that. 
“If you must know, yes,” you responded; memories of when Zayne gave you this breathtaking gift a few moments ago, making your head spin. 
Sylus hooked his forefinger under your chin, dropping the necklace he’d been carefully holding, allowing it to fall onto your chest, “Is he your boyfriend?” 
How could you answer such a complex question? 
And how did he have the nerve to be asking it?
Sylus wasn’t your boyfriend, he wasn’t your friend, he was just someone that you last saw months ago…someone that made you want to disregard all sense of logic…
“I don’t see how that’s any of your business,” you bit back; earning a snarl from Sylus in response. 
Your relationship with Zayne was complicated; you two would spend time together whenever you could around work,  and you would always look forward to spending time with him. 
He made your heart feel warm and fuzzy, something that you’d never felt for anyone before. 
But you were not a couple….though the words that fell from his lips before he left your apartment were still racing through your mind, making you think that tonight, that was about to change. 
“Everything you do is my business,” he growled, moving his hand from your chin and down your neck, wrapping his hand around it lightly. 
“My business is my own, who I see in my own apartment, has nothing to do with you,” you countered; trying not to ignore how turned on you were by how his hand was wrapped around your throat, or by how close he was to you…. 
You felt his grip tighten slightly around his throat at your rebuttal, “It has everything to do with me.” 
“You’re crazy,” you choked out.
And so were you, for letting him touch you like this. 
You should’ve pushed him away…but you couldn't bring yourself to do so. 
“About you, yes I am, and sweetie, I have no problem denying it,” he confessed, brushing his lips against your cheek, “I’ve dreamt about you. Nearly every night for the last two weeks,”
“You dream?”
His admission caught you off guard, you’d never expected Sylus to dream about anything, least of all about you.
“Never,” he mumbled, placing a soft kiss on your cheek.
“Not once,” this time the kiss he left was on the corner of your mouth, you could feel how shallow your breath was getting with every second that passed. 
“Not until you,” his lips were hovering inches away from yours now,“And it’s driving me insane,”
“That doesn’t mean anything,” you hated how shaky your voice sounded. 
What were you doing?
This was insane….
Were you really about to do this? 
Were you really about to do this with him?
Neither of you got a chance to say another word before there was a knock at the door; the sudden sound pulled you back to reality, and you pushed Sylus away, quickly.
“Don’t answer it,” Sylus whispered, grabbing your wrist, “You look so flustered right now,” 
You hated that he was right; you needed to take a minute to collect yourself; but that was hard to do when Sylus was still here. 
He was still here! 
He couldn’t be here. 
What if it was Tara at the door….or Zayne…
Zayne….
You felt your heart sink as you thought of him…
Your head was all over the place.
“Y/n? Are you okay?” You heard the all too familiar voice of your doctor ask through the door. 
You shot a glare at Sylus who was still holding your wrist with a smirk. 
“Hide in there,” you said, pushing him towards the coat closet by your door.
“We’re not finished here, sweetie, just remember that,” were the last words he said before he vanished into the closet.
Tagging:
@xacatalepsyx @fangirlsfandomsss @book-dragon03 @ollieneedsamilkshake @ladyparamount @hotdogcookie @kisukiis @deathkat657 @the-slytherin-poet @evilldentists @cheesemachine44 @thegalaxysedge22 @tasha-1994 @popcorn-mochi01 @worm-in-a-bug @babygirl-panda19 @sunshineotaku
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moonlit-imagines · 3 months ago
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Needles and Knives
Jason Todd x reader
warnings: um. needles and knives
a/n: i just wanted to do a tattoo artist au for jason im weak. also no this isnt an nsfw
prompt:
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It took a bit of thorough deliberation to figure out just what you'd be getting permanently inked on your body, but eventually you'd been able to settle on a meaningful piece. Quite the piece according to your artist, Jason Todd.
You walked into the studio, a bit dark and dingy in an endearing way. Fortunately, Jason's setup was more clean and organized than the rest of the place. "Sorry for the mess, the other guys aren't as concerned about health code as I am." He chuckled as he walked over to the front desk. "Far as I know, there hasn't even been an inspector here in at least five years." You laughed with him as he got everything set up on his end.
"Thanks for taking me this late," you said, "I'm kind of a night owl."
"You're not the only one." Jason tapped the chair you'd be sitting on for the appointment. "Make yourself comfortable, it's gonna be a pretty long session." You'd picked a nicely sized thigh tattoo that would be roughly three hours long, but Jason said he was in no rush and would only charge for two. You didn't think he was in this for the money, he seemed to like what he did. Or maybe he just liked poking people with needles. Either way it was a good deal and you liked being in the studio late and alone, it was more peaceful this way.
He was as gentle as possible, checking in every few minutes no matter how much you assured him you could take a little pain. Judging by the looks of it, you could say the same about him. There were plenty of scars on his arms from what you could see past his t-shirt sleeves. You tried not to make it obvious as you started observing the rest of his exposed skin for other marks. There was definitely a faint bruise around his eye and a few healing cuts and scrapes under bandages. Maybe he was trying to fool you with the “new tattoo” look the way those bandages were wrapped, but you could tell he got roughed up. You wondered if his knuckles were just as bad under the gloves.
“You alright?” Jason asked once again, wiping away at the ink on your skin.
“Uh-huh.” You dully replied.
“Seem a little nervous.” He commented without looking back at you, dragging the needle across your skin again. “You can’t keep still.”
“Oh.” You mumbled. “Just a little restless. Not used to sitting in one spot this long.” You both chuckled lightly.
“I know the feeling.” Jason responded. “Tattooing is really just a side hustle, I don’t do it all that often.”
“Really? You seem pretty experienced.” You complimented him and took a peek at the work so far. “What’s the ‘main hustle’ then?” You pried and watched his lips curl upwards ever so slightly.
“That’s a secret.” He responds after a moment of hesitation. You thought he was joking—just a bit of a tease—but he never did give you a straight answer. You were forced to keep awkwardly staring at the injuries he’d sustained recently and further back and make your assumptions. Maybe he got in a fight with a bear. Maybe several bears.
“Late night tattooing, huh? Any particular reason?” You innocently asked. He laughed just a little—just enough to embarrass you a little bit—and stopped tattooing.
“Let’s take a break. Can I get you a water?” Jason offered and walked over to the mini fridge.
“Oh, uh, sure?” You accepted. “I didn’t offend you, did I?”
“No, not at all.” He assured, handing you a cool bottle and taking his seat once again. “You’re just full of curiosity. Remind me of my brother. Always asking questions.”
“Not always a bad thing.” You took a sip and checked the work in progress. “Looks promising so far.”
“I’d hope so.” Jason used a paper towel to pat it lightly with a gloved hand. “You’re a bleeder.”
“Needles do that.” You nodded playfully. He was charismatic, made you feel welcome and not like a burden for making him do the work. He liked your design, he helped bring it to life, and he made sure you were comfortable when the needle was in your skin. You were just so curious about who this guy was when he wasn’t in this dump of a tattoo shop. “You ever gonna tell me what the main gig is?”
“I’m a pastor.” Jason answered and you rolled your eyes.
“Yeah, I bet.” You noticed your cheeks start to hurt from the smirk you couldn’t shake since you’d started conversation. “Boxing?”
“You could say that.” Jason agreed with that guess. “Why do you think that?”
“The bruise on your face and all your bandages.” You tilted your head to motion what you’d noticed in your short time together. “Is that not it?”
“Oh, no. Right on the nose.” Jason was either very good at lying or had a very dry sense of humor. Either way, you figured it was time to stop prying. He was, after all, just your tattoo artist.
After a few minutes of cooling down, Jason got back to work. He’d been more focused thaan before, brows furrowed as he lost himself in the detail. That could only benefit you, though. And by the end, the tattoo looked beautiful.
“Thank you, it really looks amazing.” You moved to check all angles in the mirror.
“It was a great piece, I’m glad I did it justice.” Jason started cleaning up as you paid, you said your goodbyes and left the building.
Gotham wasn’t exactly the safest of places and you were pushing 2AM as you walked down the street. Of course you knew walking was not the best mode of transportation, it was the one getting you home tonight. Especially after blowing all that money on your tattoo.
Halfway home, you realized that you were being followed by a group of people that definitely did not know you or have any positive intentions. You picked up the pace and upon realizing this, they began advancing. You thought that it was over for you before loud screams caused you to stop and spin around. There you saw a man in a red mask standing over several unconscious bodies, freshly beaten by himself. Red Hood. “Are you alright?” He asked you, which gave you deja-vu. Even with that mask on, the warped voice, the concern in the question could not thwart you.
“Jason Todd?” You asked in a whisper. The mask didn’t convey any emotions, but the pause in his answer did.
“…No.” He said.
“Yes.” You replied. “Boxing.”
“Let’s not talk here.” He requested, walking along with you to a safer location. It took some time, but you got home okay.
“Were you following me?” You finally got the chance to ask him.
“Yes.” Jason responded honestly. “I just wanted to make sure you got home safely. Luckily, I was there. You make it a habit walking alone in Gotham—at night?”
“I ought to do it more often if it means you’ll be watching.” You slyly flirted with him, adrenaline still pumping a bit from the tattoo and the fear of being attacked on your walk home.
“Oh, how hilarious.” Jason took off his helmet after you let him inside. “Don’t do dumb shit like that again. You’re gonna get that pretty face of yours roughed up if you’re not careful.” He warned in the same flirtatious tone.
“What, like yours?” You tapped the side of your facecthat mirrored his bruise and he nodded.
“This isn’t pretty. And I’ve been through much worse, believe me.” Jason put his helmet back on.
“Oh, I’m sure.” You sat down on your couch. “I’m sure you have other beautiful people to follow home and ensure their safety. Have fun out there.”
“Remember the care tips for that tattoo. That’s some of my best work there.” He pointed sternly as he approached the door.
“You’ll just have to check in and make sure. Maybe you can help me with that, too.” You smiled mischievously and wondered if he was blushing under that helmet.
“Maybe I will.” His mask distorted his voice still and he shook his head. “Make sure to lock this.” Jason reminded as he exited out the front door.
“How will you get back in, then?”
“I’ll knock.”
taglist: @captainshazamerica // @cipheress-to-k-pop // @the-did-i-ask // @azazel-nyx // @summersimmerus // @deanzboyfriend // @zoeyserpentluck // @mr-mxyzptlk-1940 //
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lanawinterscigarettes · 6 months ago
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Period Cramps (James Wilson x reader)
Summary: dealing with periods isn't so bad with Wilson as your boyfriend
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Warnings: periods/menstrual cycles mentioned, reader is completely gender neutral besides the implication of them being afab (because women aren't the only people who get periods plus it's my fic and I'm transmasc so deal with it), basically just a bunch of fluff
A/N: this isn't long at all but I wanted to write something fluffy while my cramps slowly kill me (joking..for the most part) and I hate that the title is are so unoriginal but honestly who cares. Also the reader makes a playful comment about Wilson using menstrual products that could either be taken in jest or be implied trans Wilson (which was my intent when writing it but really it's up to you)
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"I brought you a heating pad and some painkillers," Wilson's soft voice called out as he entered the bedroom, setting them both on the nightstand beside you. "How's the pain?" His brow was bunched together in concern as he watched you shift around on the bed, trying to get in a position that was at least somewhat comfortable.
"It's not so bad that I feel like I'm dying, if that's what you mean." Your voice came out as a discontented grumble from the pile of blankets where you laid bundled up. "But I appreciate this, thanks." You took two painkillers with some water before grabbing the heating pad and placing it on your lower abdomen. "Ahh, that's much better."
He didn't say anything, but you noticed how the corners of his lips turned upwards into a slight smile while he got next to you on the bed. You never had to make a request for cuddles from him whenever you were hurt or didn't feel good, as they were freely given.
"I'm sure you've had plenty of experience dealing with these kind of things before," you commented playfully as you leaned into him, which he responded to by moving in closer. "You probably keep your bathroom stocked with plenty of menstrual products in case you have guests who come over and need them. And of course there's some in there for yourself."
At that, he let out a snort of laughter, shaking his head in amused disbelief. "You're absolutely right, of course. What kind of host would I be if I didn't?"
"A bad one," you said with mock seriousness before letting out a giggle. The two of you were quiet for a moment before you spoke again. "Do you know what would make this moment even better?"
Almost as if on cue, he pulled out your favorite type of candy from his pocket and handed it to you. A visibly gleeful expression lit up your face as you snatched it from him and tore open the packaging, happily devouring the cavity inducing treat.
"You're the best boyfriend ever," you managed to get out between chews, giving him a look full of adoration.
He simply smiled and replied, "I'm glad you think so."
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End notes: y'all have no idea how long it took me to find a gif I actually liked for this I almost gave up
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