#ashton SMILING like this is so personal to me.

[immult]

underrated moment tbh. this was so cute.

[daydadahlias]

you when no 5sos content: 🔪 🪓 🔪 ☠️💀 🔪 🪦❌ 🔪🗡️ 🕸️🕷️🌪️ 🗡️ ☠️👿 🗡️🥊👺👿👊🥊 🪓🪦🚫🏴‍☠️ 👿 🏴‍☠️

you when Ashton exists: 🥺✨🥹🌼🌻🥰😘🥳😈😸😸🫶💋💋 🥰🥰 💋💐🌸🌼🌻🌈⛱️🏝️🧸❣️ 😻 ❤️‍🩹 🧸 🌻🌞 ❤️‍🔥💓💕

and what abt it

[that-ari-blogger]

Critical Role's Cameraman

So, Critical Role (@criticalrole) just released their newest opening title sequence, an animated sequence in the same style of Your Turn To Roll and I would be remis as a film nerd to not pick apart every detail.

What fascinates me about this introduction, however, is the camera movement and shot composition. Allow me to explain.

I DONT THINK THERE ARE SPOILERS AHEAD, BUT JUST TO BE SAFE

So, we open with a hand, this is a close up, I don't think that is unobvious.

But this stops being a close up rather quickly, before it starts moving away. The shot just gives the hand context, and suddenly you aren't in an extreme close up of a hand, you are in a medium shot of a very large person. Then the camera pans backwards, and you can see villains and places spring up, although the perspective on Matt remains weird. Is he a few metres from you, or a hundred? How big is the Game Master here? There's a sense of mystery, of incomprehension. This is setting up some cosmic horror shenaniganry.

Then, we get Fearne. This is a wide camera motion, swivelling around her in a tracking shot that focuses on her face, and those eyes. It is like a reverse panorama, where Fearne is taking in the world, the world is observing Fearne.

But I want you to take note of the leaves here, because they are used to form a connection between her and Orym. The transition uses them, while it isn't a direct wipe transition (the leaf just flies close to mask an abrupt cut), it is framed as one. The name of that isn't important, though, what's important is the leaves. By being in both shots, they emphasise the relationship between the two characters. But where for Fearn they show off her sense of wonder, for Orym, they take on a very different meaning.

Notice, however, how still this shot is. There is no sense of danger here. This is a scene of a warrior with a sword and two people passing on from this world. But it's calm. Because this is a memory. Orym might not be at peace with the death, but the memory isn't a violent one, it's a memory of his family's lives.

Cut to a close up. Orym creates a gust of wind.

And cut to the next shot.

I will not lie, Bertrand is my favourite character across all of Critical Role, so this shot of him made me smile, but it isn't the point here. The point is Imogen's introduction.

Although is Bertrand not actually the point? Because take a look at how Imogen is shown here. Do you notice anything?

She's shown in the exact same way. Imogen is shown doing the exact same thing that those who have died have done. And she can see them ahead of her. The camera panning back shows a wider perspective here, showing her as she tries to run, tries to get away from the same path as Bertrand.

The wind from Orym's blade that came to this scene gets across a consistent element: Memory. This is a dream. But dreams can become nightmares.

As Imogen loses her footing, the camera gives some of its wildest movements yet. It tumbles around her, then looks up.

The camera stops moving when it sees the red moon, because now the viewer has something to orientate themselves around. There is a constant point, and we can see Imogen falling down. And getting closer, and closer, and closer, until.

These are the three frames in order, there is nothing in between.

Imogen crashes into the screen, and we get an abrupt impact frame (that's the black and white one) then Ashton. This is so cool to watch, in my opinion, but it is quite possibly the opposite of smooth in camera work. So why is it so cool? Motion.

The motion is in towards Imogen and out away from Ashton. They are both falling, just in different directions. And the impact frame both helps smooth over and accentuate the abrupt transition.

The camera around Ashton is a tracking shot. They are falling, but they remain the exact same in the screen (shrinking slightly). The rest of the world moves. And when Ashton lands, the screen cracks. The tracking shot is used to show Ashton's disassociation with their surroundings. Not in a "I feel nothing" type of way, but in a "it's me vs the world" type of way.

Then, there is an abrupt cut away. Nothing hides or smooths this at all, because Ashton's memory isn't smooth, and neither is Ashton. Remember the disassociating thing I mentioned, now it changes again to someone who gets lost in his thoughts. Medium.com calls this an "anxiety stare" and as someone who does that on the regular, I can attest to this abruptness being exactly what that feels like.

I'm not going to talk too much about the ship, but just be aware that there is a Dutch angle (the horison is diagonal) here to heighten the stress of it.

Likewise with this shot, there isn't much to talk about. The slow outward zoom and triangular composition are neat, and the tiered reactions (bottom row reacts, then middle, then Fearne) are amusing, but other than that, not much.

Then we meet Laudna, playing with Pate and giving him life. That's a neat little shot, I wonder if there's a metaphor there.

Oh.

This is a super cool visual because it establishes exactly who this character is in two seconds. But I also want to point out the symmetry of this. The hair becomes the blood which becomes the hair again, and then the tree.

Laudna is introduced as big and scary and imposing, and that is very intentionally undercut by making her look small.

Being small means you are less likely to be the focal character, so shrinking Laudna takes away her agency. Only to give it back through Imogen, and when the camera pans back outwards, Laudna is the same size, but the colours and the surroundings make her feel less alone, and as a weird result of that, less small.

And last but not least in this moment, there is the delayed drop of the hands. Laudna finally feels safe and finally breathes a sigh of relief.

That, however, imediately match cuts to this. FCG's vision. The red tinting has obvious implications that I don't need to explain, but the match cut heavily implies a connection between this group and the Bells Hells. There is a fear that this might happen again made clear by a single transition.

Here's something else. FCG doesn't move. At least, the camera doesn't treat them as moving. It's a slow panning out as if nothing is happening. It's the disassociation vibe that you get from Ashton's falling shots now repurposed to someone who isn't in control of their own actions. This is what FCG is afraid of, this is the important pieces of his character. This is FCG.

And just like Laudna, FCG finally gains agency when surrounded by their friends who hug them, and FCG finally moves.

Chetney Pock O'Pea, outlaw of the RTA, alpha of his own heart. A fundamentally chaotic character who takes rules as suggestions to be intentionally ignored. A man who's first instinct upon meeting you is to consider how you could be killed. And he is introduced whittling, with a steady camera and warm light illuminating his face. This is a peaceful side of Chetney, there is a duality to him.

Speaking of which, notice how Chetney draws back from the light as he transforms. His eyes begin to glow, but they don't illuminate him, until this:

Chetney is now backlit by the cold light of the moon itself (There's a neat reveal of Ruidus caused by the pan, but that's only tangentially relevant). Notice how much further you are from him here than in his first shot. But notice how much of him is visible, and how much of the screen he takes up. It's the same, this is still the same character. It's a true Doctor Jeckyl and Mr Hyde character. This isn't split personality, but a character who can be a different person in each form, while still remaining Chetney at all times.

There is more in this video. I encourage you to watch it, but unfortunately, Tumblr has a limit on how many images I can include, so I will leave you with this final shot. A group of heroes looking up at a threat that is so much bigger than them, a threat that is literally controlling the light. But the Bells Hells are closer to the camera, they take up more of the screen. The battle isn't lost, instead, it is just starting.

[lizzaneia-elizalde]

Yandere! Stereotypical! Emo x Stereotypical! Popular bitch! Reader

Okay, so this is a songfic... NSFW at it's most, a lime at it's least.

Not the songfic that has lyrics on them, but fics that are heavily inspired by songs. And this time, it's Emo Boy by Ayesha Erotica.

I'm not that knowledgable with Emos to be fair... I'm only doing it in a way where the fic reads like a stereotypical late 90's and early 20's teen flick! I think. I hope.

Also, the bitch here means someone who sleeps around quite a lot, and not the mean type. Just wanna put that out there.

So, I do apologize if I offended someone ಥ‿ಥ

Like any song fic, I recommend listening to Emo Boy while reading.

Yandere! Emo name: Ashton

TW: stereotypical Emo, stereotypical popular bitch

Ashton always had a fascination with the Emo lifestyle. He loved the music associated with it, especially the people indulging in the lifestyle. He loved how emotional and in tune they are with their emotions and is not afraid to show who they are.

When the got the opportunity to study senior high school in a small yet lively town, he knew he had to grab it.

And when he finally got out of the grasps of his conservative family, he felt free.

No more people calling him demon worshipper, finally (although, now that he thinks about it, aren't the goths the one being called demon worshippers?)

So with black skinny jeans, long, dark black hair that covered his eyes, rings, piercings, chains, sneakers, and a graphic tee shirt, he knew he was ready.

But what he didn't expect was being ostracized by being Emo.

But then, don't people like him always get bullied?

With a grumble while sitting on his chair, all alone, he gripped his pen while in the middle of writing a poem.

"Nobody understands me." Ashton muttered, his dark eyes a stormy grey.

This school he's in is filled with stereotypes, he just realized. Mean Jocks and Cheerleaders, two faced popular bitches, pushover nerds, slobbery otakus, social outcasts... He wonders if his life is a real life teen flick.

So rather than dive into the complicated social hierarchy, he just sits in his seat, reading and listening to MCR and P!ATD just like a true stereotype.

His life filled with such deep melancholy as he trudged in this hormone filled prison that he calls a school.

Hmm. He should write that in his journal.

But then he woke up in his bedroom, his hair having a cowlick he can't put down.

Okay... That's weird.

Then, when he tried to tease and straighten his hair, it won't budge, forcing him to let it stay wavy/curly and covet his eyes just like that.

Then, his favorite graphic tee was eaten by rats...

And his sneakers were accidentally bleached...

Then, as if the day was mocking him, it was really sunny and hot, smiling and cooking him in his dark ensemble.

"What the fuck..."

He suddenly felt a foreboding dread inside of him.

When he got in the school and sat down at his seat at the back, he heard whispers of a new person transferring to this school.

The talk of the town, y/n, was now being speculated which clique they will belong in.

And when they rolled in a pink rover, the school crowd knew they're going to be in the popular rich kids.

Immediately, you integrated into the clique like it was a natural thing to do.

With your quite the revealing clothes, your bimbo/himbo like personality, and your knack for bedding people if you wanted, you got into the social hierarchy just like that. Labeled as the slut, you paraded around the school with that title with your newfound friends.

Trendy, social, quite the airhead, yet charming in your own right, and such a seductive figure too. Nobody can resist your charms.

Not even Ashton.

He tried to fight back the attraction he had with you, and your fashionable pink fit, and fluttery eyelashes.

But he can't.

The hierarchy said no, and his brain also says no.

Yet his heart sings yes.

And he always follows his feelings and his heart.

It was small efforts at first. Poems, love letters filled with such romantic words.

All slipped in your locker, in a cute pink envelop and a sweet sampaguita smell on it.

You knew who it was from, and you loved it.

"Are you really interested in that Emo boy in the HUMSS department?" One of your friends asked, sipping on a disguised flask of alcohol.

You and your friends are in the rooftop, hanging out and skipping classes. Gossip flies out of your mouths and recent "relationships."

"Yeah I am. He's cute and funny... And him being soooo in touch with his emotions is soooo hot." You said, a typical valley accent on your tone.

You twirled your hair and bit your lip, a hot feeling in your body.

You really don't know why you're so attracted to him.

"I just really want to see and feel how good in bed he is." You nonchalantly added, fanning yourself a bit.

Your other friends grimaced a bit.

"... Really? But he's so..."

"Dark."

"Weird."

"And so complicated with his words."

"He's also always alone and listens to those sad emo bands."

You huffed and cocked your hips to the side.

"Hey! He's emotional and deep!" You rolled your eyes. "Besides, I just want to fuck him. I mean, I haven't been with an emo boy."

You thought back to how Ashton walks away from you in those tightest skinny jeans, his ass round and his legs toned.

You wondered really as to why you're so... Desperate to fuck him. Because most of the time, other people are the ones who want to fuck you.

Frustration welled up inside you as you groaned.

"Yeah I truly wonder why myself." You grumbled.

You grabbed the letter from your back pocket, reading Ashton's poem for you.

I burn for you. Your lips so tantalizing, So pillowy and so sacred. It's something I, so lowly am I, Cannot dream of locking with mine. I do not need to know if you're the devil, Tantalizing as you are, Or the deity you claim to be in my dreams, Bringing retribution to my dark and dreary life. Your body so tempting, I want to embrace and bury myself within you. I want to claim and mark you as my own, My bleeding heart corrupting your alluring self. But I know I can't. So I only look at you with starry eyes, As you shine the most beautiful in a pedestal that I molded in your visage.

You understood the poem a bit, and it irritated you.

"What do you mean you'll not pursue me?!" You yelled, gripping the letter. "I can't believe he'll confess like this and not... Go for me?!"

Your friends chuckled and read the poem and was surprised to see how whimsical this confession of lusty attraction is.

"Wow... Okay, I give you my blessing to bed him." One of your friends said and you rolled your eyes and snatching the poem away from him.

"I know. And I'm trying." You spat out. "I need a stress reliever. Let's go shopping."

What you didn't know is that Ashton is listening to your confession, and is fighting the urge to take you then and there.

He smirked and tried to calm his fast beating heart as he slowly unbuckled his pants, lust filling him as he continued to replay your confession of wanting to fuck him.

Maybe next poem will be an invitation to his house.

The sound of bed creaking filled the dark room, along with the pants and moans of two people indulging in the desire of flesh.

"Hmm fuck... Ashton..."

"Y/n you're so tight..."

You moaned as Ashton continued to thrust inside of you, his throat audibly clearing as sweat trickled down his throat.

Your eyes trailed down his body, loving the feeling of being under this man.

The hot and damp air encased the two of you, giving a secure and secret paradise, away from the prying eyes.

"Harder Ashton!" Your raspy voice demanded, gripping his arm as he pushed your thighs to the sides of your torso, bending your back as he went deeper, faster, and harder.

"God you make me feral..." Ashton groaned out, feeling your walls squeeze around him stubbornly, not wanting to let go as he pushed you into a mating press in an animalistic need to bury himself deep within you.

The bed creaked violently, accompanying the orchestra of your moans and groans as you both desperately reached your high, and when he spilled inside of you, you knew that you wanted more.

So you kissed him on the lips deeply, interlocking your tongue with his as you both worked into getting into it again.

Yet, as Ashton smirked and gripped your thigh once more, ready to go, a stray perfume bottle rolled under the bed from the movement, a label on the bottle printed "love potion" on it.

A sweet smell of sampaguita permeating as a drop fell on the floor, glowing.

So if you don't get it, Ashton sprays the love potion on the poems he gives you, making you irrationally desperate for him as he is for you xx.

[idanceuntilidie]

Can you do Yan detective x murder reader

(If you want a name which is optional I got a few, Jason,Kyle,Ashton <- [most recommend in my opinion],Frank)

I hope it was okay! Sorry for not posting anything for so long- Had small problems with my mental health and school TW; mentions of death, murders, blood, yandere behaviour, kidnapping, stalking

reader is gn

Yan Detective x Murderer reader Requests open

The messenger strikes again! Whole group of highschool friends were found dead.... click to find out more!

Ashton bit his thumb as he read another article that night. His tired eyes scanned the painfully flashy site. His co-worker sent him a few of the articles along with this one. For anything that could help him catch the murderer.

Hands shaking and lips pressed into a thin line.

So many people have died recently.

He closed his eyes before getting up and walking to the balcony to smoke. The best stress reliever he had right now. The night was cold. The beautiful once view from his tenement house now covered with ruthless modern architecture. It looked fucking ugly. He took a deep breath in, the smoke burned his throat slightly. It felt nice, he exhaled watching as the gray smoke slowly dissolved in the air.  The case he decided to take seemed simple. It started with one person. Judy Millers. Very pretty young adult, she came from a wealthy family. Ashton actually knew her, back in the day they went to high school. 

A queen bee. He was lucky enough not to get crushed by her. People loved her despite her being an absolute asshole. Judy looked like she was dragged out of some highschool drama. Wealthy, pretty and known for being a bitch.

Her father found her dead in her bathroom. Ashton remembers that night so clearly, when he walked into the bathroom the stench of blood and death overwhelmed his senses. Eyes watering. 

Judy was in more than a bad shape, he could barely recognize her. Face slashed,he could see parts of the bone. She was naked, and the girl was gutted like a pig. Homicide. His eyes darted to the wall behind her head.

“It’s not so funny now is it?” That’s how the murderer got their name, messenger, it sounded slightly stupid but it was a name nonetheless. After Judy, the messenger killed more and more people. Oddly enough they were all from his old high school.

He swore to the father that he will solve the case, but months passed and he still hasn't caught the killer.

Suddenly he heard the door open. Someone walked into his apartment, they were slowly approaching him. He didn’t move, but a smile appeared on his lips. Wide, unnatural he waited as the person behind him got closer. Slowly the person wrapped their hands around his waist. The stench of blood hit his nose in an instant.

They whine. He chuckled as he threw away the cigarette. “Someone got to them before me, can you believe it?” Their voice was rough, but oh so beautiful. It made Ashtons heart burn.

“Oh, oh my love I’m so sorry.” He turned around to hug them back, kissing their head. It was messy, the blood started to already dry out.

“You should take a bath y/n, the blood will be hard to get out, huh?” They nodded, smiling at him before dragging their body to the bathroom. He watched them disappear behind the doorway. He must admit, you look hot in bloody red.

Truth to be told, he found the killer or well the killer found him. After a few of the murders, he decided the question the people who went to the same highschool and were still alive. 

You were the last person on the list, and man when he saw you again after all these years the feelings hit him back. You looked like a wreck, dark circles under your eyes and he swore you had the smell of death on you. Man, even after all these years you were so so lovely. He had fallen for you again.

From then on he started to watch you, even getting to your house. It was full of evidence, and plans to kill everyone who bullied you over the years. He saw the photo of judy with huge X and knife plunged into the middle of her face. He admits he might have got off to the smell of blood on your clothes.

You were the messenger, and he was so sure but he didn’t give you away. Hell, he planned to steal you away actually.

He might have killed a few people along the way, mostly co workers. 

Some got too close, some asked too many questions. He couldn’t share you. He couldn’t share his case. You were his, you were his to understand. To solve. To catch.

He watched you kill some of the people on your list, dreamily sighing as he watched you laugh maniacally as you did. You almost died once, not expecting the victims friend coming back early you didn’t notice them slowly creeping on you with a knife. You were oh so lucky he was near. He saved the day, successfully killing that fucker only to find you were nowhere to be seen. He felt so disappointed. He didn’t even get a chance to even talk to you. Then he found a small gift. A single finger and bloody message.

Every week he got a small body part, along with some threatening messages, but in Ashtons mind, those very love letters. He cherished them.

Then you got into his house, full of rage, bloody, ready to kill him. He didn’t fight you, you looked so beautiful. His heart rammed in his chest as you were ready to stab him. His hands grabbed your face and he kissed you. You bit his tongue and blood filled his mouth. It was so romantic. Let’s say you didn’t leave the house for a good year after that. He kept you in his bedroom for a whole year, finally he had you.

You suffered a whole year, in his grip, answered his questions with a wide smile, describing the murders he already witnessed. Music to his ears. He made his love known, he killed the rest of your victims and brought you their hearts. He watched as you ripped them apart.

After that one year, you fell for him too, and that’s how both of you got to this point, and he knew, you won’t leave him.

[isagrimorie]

I honestly love how angry Laudna was in the first half of the show, out the gate. The moment Orym called attention to FCG's new clothes, Laudna's face was this:

But even through that Laudna can't help but comment and compliment Imogen on her new look:

Imogen smiles at Laudna: "I love the new look."

She just lit up at Laudna's compliment.

And then Sam just goes straight into it, probably sensing the Drama potential and immediately Laudna's mood shifts from sad-soft to sharp.

Also, of course, Imogen's face when Ashton said: "You were the last person to have a complete breakdown."

Fearne also looked concerned.

And then Imogen's face when Laudna pointed to her and said: "You have a new best friend, apparently."

Completely bewildered by this classification of her friendship with FRIDA. I also love Travis's husband reaction of: 'Uh-oh.'

Imogen is completely startled because out of everyone on Team Wildemount she was the one who didn't want to rest and just want to be on task.

I live for Imogen's 'Excuse me?'

It's so funny because apparently, Laudna didn't get any of Imogen's messages that she WASN'T having any fun sexual or otherwise last episode. Like, Imogen really did need to spell it out for her, and another reason why Imogen decided to just make her feelings plain.

Imogen tries to explain and Fearne is also quick to buck up and defend Imogen. Meanwhile, Chetney offers his sexual healing services.

Laudna looked like whatever Chetney's saying isn't computing with her and later looks like she was half a second away from getting angry at him.

And then much later Ashton and Orym are gently trying to convince Laudna to try and unwind, feel what it's like to be Human again. Taking care of Laudna the way they failed to do, bringing her back from the brink of the abyss.

Imogen doesn't even know yet that Ashton and Orym just let her fall.

Orym and Ashton coaxing her back from the edge, directing her back to life, to Imogen.

And it starts to work especially when Imogen brings up visiting Zhuduanna and their old home in Jrsusar. Signs of the old Laudna seem to be softening her edges and her stare isn't as blank or blankly furious anymore.

But it's true they all need to unwind from the harrowing trip they've all been through.

Still, I feel there's hell to pay if or when Imogen ever found out that Orym and Ashton just let Laudna fall down the abyss and possibly let Delilah back into Laudna.

Fearne is just trying to navigate this seachange of emotions too, she was also deeply affected by the split of the team but she's just much better at hiding it.

(Also, Marisha Ray deserves all the accolades because she's so good!)

[inbloomwriting]

Everything to me - Chapter 1

Chapter one - Apple seed

Story Masterlist

Plot: Jamie Tartt is a lot of things: professional footballer, the island's top scorer .... sexually, extremly handsome. But one thing he never saw himself as was a dad. Too bad he has to deal with the consequences of his own actions. This fic follows reader and Jamie as they navigate life and turn from practially strangers to parents. Pairing: Jaime Tartt x female reader Warnings: Pregnancy, swearing, mentions of food and alcohol, slight mention of sexual intimacy (nothing graphic), strained/toxic parental relationship Notes: 5.8k words. I do not have a set uploading schedule. Please bear with me as I work on this story. I know hardly anything about pregnancy, all my information comes from google. Likes, reblogs, comments are all much appreciated. I am German. Sometimes I get the tense wrong or make mistakes. I am useless when it comes to punctuation. Go easy on me, please

"You never understood you're everything to me I just hope you know, the future in your heart Is just about to start"

The universe must be mocking her, (Y/N) is sure of that. This is all one big elaborate joke and any minute now Ashton Kutcher is gonna jump out from behind some bushes and tell her that she has been punkd. 

She had a plan, all neatly laid out and organized. Blue ink on white paper in a fancy leather-bound notebook. Like a professional adult would do it who has their life all figured out. 

Renovate the store and get it back up and running

Sell it for profit 

Pay back Mum and get the fuck away from everyone and everything that has ever made her feel unworthy

That was the plan and she was so fucking determined to stick to it for once in her life. So this must be a prank. This must all be one big misunderstanding.

But it’s not a prank, is it? It’s the consequences of her own damn actions.

Her heart is racing as she climbs the stairs up towards Rebecca Welton’s office. Her legs and feet are heavy, like concrete. Why is being honest with your friends so damn hard? 

It’s not just any friend either. It’s Rebecca. Rebecca who has always been in her life ever since (Y/N) was just a kid. Rebecca who is the only person (Y/N) ever looked up to. Why is being honest with her so terrifying?

You know why! 

Yeah, (Y/N) knows why. Because she doesn’t know what she’ll do if Rebecca hates her for what happened. Of all the people in the world, she needs Rebecca on her side. 

As she lifts her hand and knocks on the door of the office, (Y/N) wonders if this is what death row inmates feel like. Knowing the end is inevitable and it’s all your own fault.

“Come in” 

Taking a deep breath, she opens the door and steps into the room. 3 pairs of eyes look back at her but really, the only ones that matter belong to the beautiful blonde sitting by the desk.

“(Y/N), Hi. What are you doing here? Did we have plans? I thought you went back — “

“Yeah I — no, we didn’t have plans.” 

It almost kills her, that smile that Rebecca sends her way. The one that’s so warm and loving and that’s been a constant in her life for most of her childhood and teenage years coming from Rebecca. Rebecca living in that lovely white house next door with the rose bushes and the big windows. Rebecca who taught her how to do the perfect eyeliner wing, who passed down her coolest leather jacket to her, who held her hair the first time she got wasted and threw up in those very rose bushes. Rebecca who was the older sister she never had. 

She loves that smile it used to bring so much comfort to her. Now it makes her want to die. The girl she used to be, deserved to be on the receiving end of that smile. She doubts she still deserves it.

“Can we—” (Y/N)’s eyes dart around the room towards Higgins, then towards the other man. He’s the American trainer, Ted. She’s talked to him once very briefly and he seems so — nice. Genuinely nice. Not for the sake of being perceived as a good person but because he just is. “— do you think we could talk privately?” 

There’s a flicker of concern in Rebecca’s eyes and (Y/N) hates that she put it there.

“Oh, of course. Ted, Leslie, would you excuse us?” 

Everything’s a blur. They leave and (Y/N) thinks Ted makes some kind of pun but she doesn’t really recognize anything but the racing of her heart and the sour feeling in her stomach. Oh, fuck.

Rebecca sits her down on the big couch by the window, the one that’s meant for personal talks, not business. She’s so nice. Oh, she's too nice.

“Are you dying?” 

“I — uh, no.”

“Okay, good.,” Rebecca says letting out a sigh of relief. “Now that that’s out of the way, can I offer you some tea?”

(Y/N) shakes her head.

“Coffee?” 

She repeats the motion

“Champagne?” Rebecca asks, a perfectly shaped eyebrow raised in question.

God, wouldn’t she kill for a glass of bubbly right now. 

“No, I’m good. Can you just come sit down, you’re making me nervous.” 

Not only does she sit down, Rebecca’s hand immediately finds (Y/N)’s, holding on warm and tight. It almost pulls an ironic scoff from (Y/N)’s lips. Mum doesn’t know but even if she did, she’d never offer this kind of comfort to her. She never did. So for a second, she lets herself relish in the affection. Just one second. 

“Okay, now out with it.” 

She’s rehearsed this conversation so many times in so many different ways. Like a school presentation. Meticulously planned. Even added in pauses for questions and shit like that.

All of that has vanished, her brain is empty, her tongue made of lead. 

“I uh — look um. Do you remember when your dad died?” 

Of all the ways she could’ve started this talk, this is probably the worst of them all. Who says things like that?

Rebecca seems a little taken aback for a moment before nodding her head and suppressing a slight smile, one brought on by the absurdity of the question, not by joy. “I do, yes. Hard to forget if I’m being honest.” 

“Yeah, I would know.” 

“Yeah.”

“So that night I was obviously very emotional because it reminded me of my dad and all of that bullshit.” Tears are already threatening to roll down her face, sitting on her waterline waiting for the right moment to strike. It’s impressive she still has any left to cry since that’s all she did the last few days.

“That’s understandable. Oh, please tell me you didn’t force yourself to come and relive all of your pain just because you felt like I expected you there? If I knew it was so hard on you I —” 

This, all of this, is twisting the knife so much deeper. Leave it to Rebecca to search for a fault of hers in all of (Y/N)’s mess.

“No, Rebecca, it's nothing like that. I — I fucked up. I let it all get to me and because I’m, well — me, I got a little tipsy. Went outside to get some air and there was this guy. God, Rebecca, he had the saddest eyes. I just felt this weird connection so I sat next to him. We talked and talked and then ended up going to a bar and then to my place and then to my bed and well yeah.” 

She giggles. Rebecca really has the audacity to giggle at that. In her defense, she tries to hold it in but it does slip out eventually. 

“It’s not funny.”

“Is this why you’re upset? You slept with someone at, no wait, after my father’s funeral. That’s okay.”

“There’s more.” 

"Oh, what is it? Was it a footballer?” 

At the lack of a vocal response, Rebecca connects the dots.

“Alright. That’s — that’s not so bad. I was seeing a 21-year-old footballer. I don’t see what’s making you so upset about this.” 

“I’m pregnant.” 

“Oh shit.” 

Getting Rebecca to swear was always something (Y/N) found a silly sense of pride in. Rebecca with her perfect hair and outfits and manners. It felt like something so alien to her and yet that was (Y/N)’s favorite version of Rebecca. The one that’s as messy as you and me even if it’s just for a second.

“Yeah, shit.” 

It’s the first time she said it out loud. Rebecca is the first person to know, except for (Y/N) herself and her gynecologist. Her mother doesn’t know. 

The father of the baby doesn’t know.

Just her and now Rebecca.

“And I don’t know what to do. This wasn’t the plan. Fuck — please don’t be mad.” 

“Why would I be mad? ” 

There is an infinite warmth in Rebecca’s eyes. A warmth she always longed for coming from her own mother but never received. A warmth that seems entirely misplaced right now. 

“I fucked your employee. I used your dad’s funeral to make the shittiest of all shit decisions and now I come here unloading all of this on you because I, once again, don’t know how to get myself out of the hole I dug.” 

Soft hands wrap around (Y/N)’s shoulder and pull her in. Rebecca smells like expensive perfume and hairspray. All comforting and familiar. It’s nice, (Y/N) thinks, that despite everything falling apart in and around her, there is at least one constant in her life. 

“Were you really afraid of telling me or are you just afraid?” 

She’s so smart and so observant, sometimes it’s infuriating. 

“I’m so scared, Rebecca.”

Life doesn’t ask if you’re ready. It doesn’t ease you into things, slow and gentle. There are no training wheels, no floaties. Life happens whether you’re prepared or not. It’s nice to know that there are arms wide open for you to fall into, a hand to pull you out of the roaring sea as you’re just about to drown.

“You can always unload on me, you know that right? That’s what family is for.” 

All the willpower to stay brave and collected and not cry, all that vanishes with Rebecca’s words. Family. They’re family. Maybe not by blood but definitely by fate. By choice. 

Mum would’ve told her to suck it up, to stop crying, and to face the consequences of her own actions. Would’ve probably had an “I knew this would happen” or an “I told you so” on the tip of her tongue. There is none of that with Rebecca. She just accepts the tears soaking through her, no doubt, expensive blouse and softly strokes (Y/N)’s head. 

For a long time, there are no words exchanged. Some moments ask for calmness not conversation. There’s something deeply therapeutic about crying on the shoulder of someone you deeply trust.

“Can I ask?” Rebecca inquires with a gentle voice just barely louder than a whisper.

She doesn’t have to elaborate. There are only so many questions people have after you told them you had a one-night stand and ended up pregnant. 

“You’re gonna hate the answer.” 

A laugh falls from Rebecca’s lips, her breath tickling the top of (Y/N)’s head. “Don’t tell me It’s Jamie.” 

“Okay, I won’t then.” 

“Oh, (Y/N).” 

Where there should be disappointment in her tone, there is understanding, there is slight amusement but above all, there is deep and honest care. 

“ Can you blame me? Look at him. He’s sculpted by the gods and something about that silly little accent does it for me. I hate to admit it, I truly do.” 

“Does he know?” 

(Y/N) shakes her head, guilt and fear coursing through her veins.

“I don’t even have his number. I know hardly anything about the guy other than that he’s a footballer, that his ego is huge, and that he likes to cuddle after sex.” 

Rebecca’s eyebrows rise in surprise. “Does he? Huh.”

“Yeah, it was really cute actually.” 

For a moment she almost gets lost in the memories of that night, however hazy they might be. Jamie was fun and to an extent he understood. And there’s nothing quite as sexy as a man who is just as sad and messed up as you. Is it healthy? Absolutely not but (Y/N) never claimed to have a particularly healthy view on anything. 

“He works here, you know. In this very building. You can just pop down and tell him.” 

The way Rebecca says it makes it sound so easy. Like it doesn’t come with a shit load of guilt and fear and embarrassment. 

“Wait, I didn’t even ask and I just realized that’s very presumptuous and maybe a little rude of me — do you even want to keep the baby?” 

That’s the big one. The question of all questions. It’s the second thought that came to her head when (Y/N) saw the two lines on that fateful plastic stick. The first one being “Oh fuck.” It’s the question her doctor asked. It’s in all of the leaflets and informational reading she’s been handed.

“I’ve never thought about it before. I mean sure I thought about some hypothetical future but those dreams always changed depending on my mood. Now I’m here and I need to make a choice and It’s — It’s terrifying.” 

“But?” 

“But I think I do want it. I think I want to be a — a mother.” 

It’s a word that feels strange on her tongue, bitter and sharp. Like biting down on your cheek and tasting blood. Mother was never the warm comfort of a home. It was the cold hand on her shoulder, the icy glance of disapproval. 

Maybe mother can be something else. Maybe she can turn it into something sweet.

“I’m just scared. This wasn’t the plan, not right now at least, and not like this. I’m scared of doing it alone.”

“What in the world does that mean? Alone?” 

“I don’t expect Jamie to step up. I’d appreciate it, of course. But he has a brilliant career and so much going for him. Getting me, a one-night-stand, pregnant could ruin so much for him. I don’t ever want that.” 

“No,” Rebecca says and cradles (Y/N)’s face between her warm hands “I mean, you’re not going to be alone. No matter what Jamie says. You have me. And I can guarantee you that there are at least 10 other people in this building right now who will also have your back. Whatever happens, I can promise you that you don’t have to do this alone. And don’t sell yourself short, you have a career too!” 

Maybe the universe isn’t mocking her after all. And maybe this isn’t a punishment either. Maybe this is just life pushing her into the deep end. Thank god she has people to help keep her afloat.

(Y/N)’s eyes wander from the clock on the wall towards the door then back. Over and over again.

Every time the door opens and someone leaves the locker room, her heart speeds up. Maybe if she dies of a heart attack right here and now she won’t have to talk to Jamie. That sounds like the most reasonable reaction. Anyone would agree. Right? 

The boys all regard her with a sense of cautious familiarity. They know her face, know they’ve seen her before but can’t recall where much less put a name to her. 

Well, all of them but Sam. He greets her with that big signature smile of his, so full of joy and sunshine. Calls out her name and asks her about her day. Rebecca might have a point that there are more people here that care about her. Their conversation is brief but there is no doubt in her mind that if she were to call him any time of the day, Sam would drop everything and help her out. That’s just the kind of person he is. 

She wonders if that’s the kind of person Jamie is. 

Another glance at the clock. 2 minutes pass. The door opens once more.

Jamie is smiling when he steps into the hallway. His hair is wet, probably from the shower, and held back by that silly little headband of his. He’s wearing a ridiculously bright orange hoodie and obnoxious colorful sneakers. Everyone else would look absolutely ridiculous in this get-up. Jamie makes it work. It must be some kind of superpower. 

Or maybe he’s just so unfairly fit that it doesn’t matter what he’s wearing. Even naked he looks phenomenal.

Stop thinking about him naked, that’s what got you into this mess.

“Oh, hi!” 

He’s so nonchalant, so casual when his eyes meet her’s across the hall. And really, why wouldn’t he be? What they had was casual. A one-night thing, no strings attached. Just two slightly broken people finding solace in each other. That was all it was supposed to be at least.

(Y/N) feels the weight of the secret resting so heavy on her shoulders, she’s sure she’ll collapse underneath it any second now. 

“Jamie, hi. Uh — can we talk?” 

“Sure, ‘bout what? Are you pregnant or something?” 

He says it with a smile, not giving a single thought to the fact that his joke might be no joke at all but the honest to god truth.

(Y/N) on the other hand, feels like someone doused her in ice water, just poured it all over her. Her hands are clammy, breathing shallow, heart racing. Maybe she’ll get that heart attack after all.

When she doesn’t answer, doesn’t laugh, Jamie’s eyes grow wide in return. Though his reputation might make you believe otherwise, he’s quite quick in putting two and two together. At least in this situation. He doesn’t look happy, that much she expected, but he doesn’t look upset either. He just looks shocked. There is nothing but pure disbelief on his face. The cocky smirk has dropped, now his mouth is opening and closing trying to produce words as his head is trying to process the information he just figured out.

“Do you want to go discuss this somewhere more private?” 

Of all the places to tell someone they got you pregnant, the hallway at his workplace might not be the more desirable. 

A pale-faced Jamie nods his head, his eyes distant and glassy. She knows the feeling, has been there just a few days ago. That’s his whole life playing like a movie in his head right there, now with added scenes of a small child with his eyes. Oh god, she hopes the baby gets his eyes.

Jamie drags her into a small room off of the main hallway. Cubicle cupboards line the walls, filled with shoes and boxes. Orange and bright green and yellow. Every possible color of the rainbow, they have a pair of shoes to match in here. The smell though? The smell has her gagging. Sweat and cold cigarette smoke. It’s disgusting. 

“Oh god, Jamie. This is disgusting.” 

“It’s the boot room. ‘s where we keep the boots — and people come here to smoke.” 

“They come here to smoke? On purpose? Like they chose to spend time in here?” 

Jamie absentmindedly nods his head. He’s so pale-looking (Y/N) fears he might just pass out any minute now. 

“Jamie, are you okay? Do you want to sit down?” 

His eyes start to focus again, looking straight at her. He’s terrified and quite honestly, she can’t blame him. Confusion and fear are all she’s felt for the last few days. A bit of excitement too, sure. But mostly the first two.

“Yeah. No. I mean yes. I guess? No. I — fuck.” 

Nervously he combs his fingers through his damp hair as if to calm himself down. Is that something his parents did to him when he was a kid? A motion of comfort? There is so much she doesn’t know about this man. If he decides that he wants to stick around, can this ever work? Can you raise a child with someone you hardly know and not completely fuck them up? 

“Is it mine, then? Are you sure about that?”

“No, I just like going around scaring people into believing they got me pregnant. Yes, Jamie! I am 100% certain.” 

His hands fly up in defense “Jesus, sorry. I don’t know your sexual history. You had sex with me after a funeral, don’t know how much you get around, now do I?” 

She had expected him to ask if it’s his, hell anyone probably would, but there’s something about his tone that is just so off-putting. The accusation that swings along with his words. The judgment. As if he is in any place to talk.

“Oh get off your high horse, dickhead. We both made that decision after the funeral. Didn't hear you complain. And out of the two of us, It’s not me who fucked a girl in a hot tub on national television. Eurgh” 

“You alright?” 

“No, this room is making me gag. I assume this is bad under normal circumstances but this pregnancy situation has my sense of smell going through the roof. This is killing me.” 

“Well, why didn’t you say nothing?! We could’ve gone somewhere else.” 

“I just wanted to — eurgh— I just wanted to get this over with.” 

“Let me get you out of —” 

“No, let me just say this real quick and then I’m off.” 

She’s prepared this speech a million and one times in a million and one ways. It always worked out fine but then again, her audience was just her cat and the mirror. Having Jamie look at her, a mix of concern and shock still on his face, that’s a whole different story.

“I am having this baby and I would like for you to be a part of their life, but I accept if you say no. Just know that whatever you decide, that’s final. I can’t have you running off and then coming back in a few years regretting your decision and wanting to be a parent after all. And I most definitely will not allow you to say you’re in and then give up on the baby halfway through. I had a parent like that, I will not have my child go through the same thing. I don’t need your decision now just — make up your mind and make sure you’re 100% certain. Here uh— “

Trying to hold her breath so as to not breathe in any more of the foul smell, (Y/N) rummages through her purse before pulling out a small piece of paper.

“They don’t usually do ultrasounds that early but I made friends with the nurse as I was waiting and they allowed me to get one and see the baby. Don’t really see shit on here if I’m being honest but apparently that blob is our child.” 

Jamie takes the picture, his eyes moving between the image and back to her, down to her stomach then back to the picture. It’s like his head and his eyes are trying to cope with the fact that there is a real baby growing inside her. His baby.

“I just thought you might want to have this, if not just throw it away. I’m not trying to manipulate or guilt you into anything. Let me know when you’ve made a decision. You know where I live and Rebecca has my number just ask her for it — I gotta get out of here. Eurgh.” 

And while an overwhelmed Jamie sinks to the floor of the boot room, ultrasound picture clutched in one hand while the other nervously combs through his hair, (Y/N) throws up in the bin by the front door. 

There are 3 things (Y/N) knows for certain. One of them is that Michelle Pfeiffer as Stephanie Zinone in Grease 2 is the coolest person in the world. The second one is that decaf coffee kinda sucks. And 3 is that whoever is knocking on her door at 9:15 tonight, disrupting her rewatch of Grease 2 better has a good reason to do so if they want to keep their head attached to their body.

Slowly she’s dragging herself towards the door. Today was exhaustion enough both physically and mentally, she really doesn’t need the stress of an unannounced visitor. Not when she’s dressed in an old, oversized Hardrock Cafe shirt, bike shorts, and those ridiculous yellow slippers she got on her last trip to Disney that look like Minnie Mouse’s shoes.

“I’m coming, Jesus — “ 

“I don’t know shit about babies.” 

Jamie looks different as he stands before her on her front steps, hair messy and flat against his head, wearing a big grey sweater. Gone is all the charming confidence and the mischievous smirks. He’s all sad eyes and shy smiles. He reminds (Y/N) of a sad, beaten puppy. She almost feels bad for him. Almost. That’s until the words that just fell from his lips really register in her mind.

“You could’ve just texted me you’re not interested. Didn’t have to come here, really.” 

“What? No, I am! “

“You just said —” 

“I said I don’t know shit about babies. Cause I don’t. But I’m not gonna run off.”

“You won’t?”

Jamie has never looked so genuine, so serious as in that moment and it sends a weird feeling through (Y/N). She didn’t have any expectations in him. You can’t really have those if you don’t even know the person. Sure, she hoped he would take interest in her and the baby but things truly could’ve gone either way. To hear him say that he wants to step up and be there, that’s a feeling she can’t really put into words.

“Can we uh — can I come in? Your neighbor is staring at me.” 

(Y/N) opens the door to let Jamie pass before leaning outside and facing the house next door. Sure enough, old Mrs. Hartley is standing by her window, eyes trained on (Y/N)’s front door. Jesus fucking Christ, do these people not have their own lives? 

The small pink couch looks even smaller with Jamie’s broad frame perched in the corner. He’s holding onto the fluffy white pillow as if he needs some kind of buoy to keep him afloat.

“Do you want tea or something?” 

“Do you have beer?” 

She only raises an eyebrow in response and points to her stomach. 

“Right. Pregnant. Forgot about that for a second, sorry. “

Oh, the privilege of getting to forget about that. 

“I have water, ginger ale, and apple juice.” 

Jamie screws his face in repulsion. If there is one thing she’s learned about Jamie Tartt in the limited time they’ve spent together, it’s that his emotions are always so clearly reflected on his face. She’s not sure he knows exactly how expressive he really is.

“I’m good. Here, I actually brought you some stuff.” 

As she sits down on the couch next to him, Jamie holds out a Tesco bag to her filled to the brim with stuff. 

“What’s all this?” 

He looks bashful, almost shy as he shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly. 

“Just some stuff for your nausea. Google said anything ginger helps so I got these lollies. Also sour candy and crackers. Not sure if it works but I felt so bad seeing you earlier and knowing it's kinda my fault, innit?."

It's such a sweet sentiment that (Y/N) can feel the tears gathering on her waterline. Maybe Jamie is the kind of person she can call when in need. Maybe he can become that person.

"That's very sweet Jamie, oh there's more."

It's a small box with two even smaller socks, so tiny it almost seems impossible that a human being can have such small feet. 

"Saw them and couldn't stop thinking about how cute they were and then I couldn’t stop imagining our baby being so tiny and wearing them and, yeah.” 

“They’re adorable, Jamie. Thank you.” 

His words wrap around her heart like vines. Taking root. Blooming. 

“Our baby”. The thought of having a baby is still so foreign to her. Her own baby, her child. Hearing Jamie call it theirs sends a flutter of feelings through her. Their baby. Part her and part Jamie.

“So what I meant earlier is that I don’t know shit about babies. None of my friends have babies, I have no siblings and all my cousins are around my age so I never really had experience with babies. I know they’re cute and I know they poop a lot. “

“They are pretty cute.”

“Yeah, and our baby?” he says and motions between the two of them “‘s gonna be the cutest fucking baby of all time. It’s genetics.”

The matter-of-fact tone in which he says it pulls a laugh from (Y/N). He does have a point though.

“I am not going to lie, I'm extremely unprepared for this. For being a — a dad.” 

There’s a bitterness there, a heaviness. Maybe Dad is as sharp and as cutting a concept to Jamie as Mum is to (Y/N). 

“Don’t have a dad. Well, I do but he’s right asshole, isn’t he. So I got no idea how to be good at this, had no one to show me. I’ll try though. I want to be different. I need to be. Promised myself when I was a kid that I was not going to be like him, ever.”

“I understand that, trust me Jamie I really do. But I need you to be sure that you want that. I don’t want you to stay around because of some misplaced sense of duty. I want you to want this.” 

"Didn't think I did. When you told me and you gave me an out I wanted to take it. But then I kept looking at that picture, can’t make out anything on it by the way but that doesn’t matter, I kept looking at it and that part of me. That's my baby and I couldn't live with meself if I gave up on it. On you. A lot of people have given up on me in my life and I resent them for it. I can't be the one giving up now, can I? I'm better than that."

She doesn't even realize the tears have found their way out until Jamie's face fills with concern. "Oh no, I didn't mean to make you cry or nothing."

"They're happy tears, I think. I'm really scared, Jamie. Knowing that I don't have to do this all by myself, that helps a bit."

"I promise I'll try to be the best at this. I'll even rub your feet if they're hurting and I fucking hate feet."

Leave it to Jamie to put the humor back into even the most serious and tense of conversations.

"You don't have to rub my feet, that's okay. I do think we should get to know each other better though, now that we're gonna be raising a child together. I know hardly anything about you."

"Uh, you know plenty about me. You know I'm fit, obviously. You know I have great hair. I'm good at football, fucking ace actually. Also sexually."

That little shit has the audacity to wink. it should be annoying. It's weirdly charming though.

"And now you also know that I'm gonna try my best to be good at this. Hey, when the baby is here can I get one of them kangaroo pouch thingies and take them to training with me?"

"Kangaroo pouch? You mean a baby carrier?"

"Yes, that! Strap it to my chest while I do my warm-up."

"You are not taking our baby to training with you, are you insane?"

"I'm joking, Jesus. Would look fucking cool though, maybe get us matching sunglasses. Hats too. Baby icon."

"Oh my god, you know what, maybe this is a bad idea after all."

But it's not, she doesn't mean that. Jamie knows it and (Y/N) knows that he knows. For the first time since those two lines appeared, it feels like she can breathe easy again if even just for a moment. Things will be hard, no doubt but at least she can share it with someone. And it's just an added bonus that someone never fails to put a smile on her face.

"What are you watching there anyway?" Jamie asks, nodding his head towards the tv.

"Grease 2."

"They made a second one? Is it good?"

"No, it's terrible. I love it."

"See," Jamie chimes up, a small genuine smile.on his lips "learned something new about you. The mother of my child loves bad movies. This getting to know each other plan is going so well already."

And while it is a joke, there's also a flicker of truth to it. It's the little things that make us who we are. Like our love for bad movies or our desire to be better than our parents before us.

"Do you wanna stay and watch it with me?"

"Can we start from the beginning?"

"Obviously"

"Then yes! Give me one of them ginger lollies please."

They spent the next few hours watching Grease 2 followed by the first because - well it's just right to watch them both, really. It doesn't feel forced or awkward. This is not two strangers trying to bond for the sake of their child. This is a genuine friendship in the making. It feels wonderful. They exchange numbers, birthdays, favorite colors. It’s all very superficial information but it’s a start and it’s easy. This whole situation is hard enough, sometimes easy is just what you need.

The clock says 12:03 when Jamie decides it's time to go home. 

Just as he is about to leave, one foot already out the door, he turns back with curious eyes.

"Do you know how big the baby is?"

"Uh, no. Pretty tiny I think."

"They didn't tell you what fruit size?"

"Fruit size?"

"Yeah like, it's as big as a strawberry now or something."

(Y/N) shakes her head in response "I think they mostly do that in American movies."

Jamie looks deflated for a fracture of a second before he lightens up again and one of those rare smiles takes over his face. The one that makes him look so boyish and excitable. Like a fucking golden retriever.

"That's okay. I'll find out."

"You do that. Let me know what you find. Have a good night Jamie."

"You too!" Then his eyes move to her stomach "And you too baby."

God, he can be so adorable it's absolutely sickening.

As she lays in bed, (Y/N) thinks back to just the night before. To the anxiety and the fear. To all the what-ifs that ghosted through her head. That seems like a whole lifetime ago and even though a lot of those fears are still present, they get overshadowed tonight. By the knowledge that she's not alone. And by the absolute sunshine that is Jamie Tartt. 

Just before she closes her eyes, her phone dings with a notification. 

Her hand comes to rest gently on her stomach. There’s no change there yet, absolutely no sign of a baby growing in there at this very moment. And yet she knows and that makes all the difference. 

In a voice, soft like silk, she whispers “Daddy says goodnight”. It’s cheesy, outright sickening but in the dark of the night, who is there to judge her for it? Sometimes you have to let yourself be ridiculous and cringy if your heart demands it.

That night she doesn't fall asleep to fear and anxiety. That night she falls asleep with a smile on her face. 

[hotdaemondtargaryen]

EWAN MITCHELL TALKING ABOUT AEMOND TARGARYEN IN EPISODE 3 FOR VULTURE MAGAZINE.

I CAN'T REMEMBER THE EXACT WORDING, BUT I REMEMBER SEEING SOMEONE POST A GIF OF PRINCE AEMOND'S SAPPHIRE-EYEBALL REVEAL AND SAYING, "THIS IS THE MOST ANIME-LOOKING MOTHERFUCKER WHO HAS EVER APPEARED ON A LIVE-ACTION TELEVISION SHOW." THERE'S AN OTHERWORDLY AIR TO HIM.

"So much of the work is done through the costume and the long hair and the eyepatch — because of the talents of makeup designer Amanda Knight and our costume designer, Caroline McCall."

"By taking one look, you can make a rough assumption that he’s probably going to be the bad guy."

"But for me, bringing that otherworldly texture to Aemond, I never watched Game of Thrones, because I wanted to present something fresh."

"I drew on other aspects of pop culture, with ’80s horror icons like Michael Myers: a character who walks so slow but always catches up to Jamie Lee Curtis."

"Aemond hijacks the show and turns it into a horror sequence in the skies above Storm’s End at the end of episode ten of season one."

"It’s this idea of inevitability, something more like an energy as opposed to an actual human being."

"That’s the image Aemond wants to co-opt, that he’s godlike. He operates on a different plane."

"It comes from that cold exterior he’s cultivated over the years, down to the sapphire stone in his eye socket. You don’t know what is going on behind his eye."

THERE REALLY IS SOMETHING VERY "FINAL FANTASY VILLAIN" ABOUT HIM: ELEGANT BUT FIGHTENING.

"You don’t know what he’s thinking."

"People who sit back and smile, don’t say much — they’re the people whose brains you want to pick, but at the same time, you don’t know where you stand."

MY FAVORITE AEMOND MOMENTS ARE WHEN YOU DO GLIMPSE HOW HE FEELS. IN THAT CHASE SEQUENCE ABOVE STORM'S END, AEMOND IS REALLY UPSET WHEN HIS DRAGON KILLS LUCERYS VELARYON. IN THIS SEASON, HE TALKS TO THE SEX WORKER HE'S BEEN SEING ABOUT HOW IT GOT TO HIM.

"I agree. Between episodes seven and eight of season one, he’s manufactured himself into a weapon."

"He possesses this code that stops him from ever being hurt again, like he was as a kid."

"He has to be seen as this bulletproof, untouchable, ethereal presence no one can grasp."

HE BRINGS UP HIS CHILDHOOD IN THE BROTHEL, TOO — HOW HIS BROTHER AND HIS YOUNG UNCLES USED TO PICK ON HIN FOR BEING DIFFERENT. IS ALL THAT IN THE BACK OF YOUR MIND EVEN WHEN YOU'RE DOING THE COOL, SAPPHIRE-EYE STUFF?

"Yeah. It’s partly down to seeing the young Aemond actor, Leo Ashton, in episodes six and seven of season one: the boy underneath the veneer."

"This kid was bullied day in and day out for not having a dragon egg like the rest of the kids in the family. He recognized very early on that he was going to have to go out and get what he wanted."

"I always carried that around with me in season two."

"So he ended up claiming the largest, baddest, oldest dragon in the known world in Vhagar. She’s so enormous, she can’t fit within the confines of any castle wall. Aemond is able to identify with that."

HOW SO? THE BULLYING DIDN'T MAKE HIM FEEL SMALLER?

"It’s the story of the underdog. I have this theory that it’s not so much the person who claims the dragon, it’s the dragon who claims the person as well."

"I don’t believe Vhagar is someone you just stumble upon."

"Although Aemond had to seek her out, she must have seen something in him that he himself hadn’t seen yet."

"Aemond’s the kid who held on. When he realized he wouldn’t get a dragon egg like the rest of the kids, he held on."

"When he was bullied for being different, for not having a dragon of his own, he held on. And when Vhagar took off over the beaches of Driftmark in episode seven, he held on tighter than he’d ever done before."

"I don’t know if any of the other characters would have held on as strongly, because they were gifted dragons when they were kids."

"It’s a tremendous feat of courage to approach Vhagar."

"That’s one of Aemond’s redeeming qualities: He possesses a drive."

"Maybe that kid is still underneath that manufactured exterior."

I WAS HONESTLY SURPRISED TO FIND AEGON AND HIS BUDDIES STILL BULLYING AEMOND DURING THE BROTHEL SCENE IN THIS EPISODE. HISTORICALLY, BULLYING AEMOND HAS NOT WORKED OUT VERY WELL FOR PEOPLE.

"Aegon catches Aemond in a vulnerable spot."

"Picking up the script for the first time and seeing those brothel scenes in episode two and three, I saw a brilliant opportunity to offer a rare glimpse of his vulnerability."

"You only ever see him in his Targaryen blacks, so to see him in that world — not only that, but then humiliated by his brother — is quite shocking."

WHEN HE GETS UP AND WALKS OUT WITHOUT BOTHERING TO DRESS FIRST, SO SURE OF HIMSELF EVEN IN THE FACE OF THAT HUMILIATION, HE SEEMS SCARIER TO ME THAN WHEN HE'S RIDING ON VHAGAR.

I love that line from Michael Mann’s Heat, when Bob De Niro’s character says, “Don’t let yourself get attached to anything you are not willing to walk out on in 30 seconds flat if you feel the heat around the corner.”

"That’s the code his character utilizes so he’s able to maneuver around this world without getting caught by Al Pacino."

"Aemond has a similar code that stops him from being hurt like he was as a kid."

"That’s why he’s able to walk out on the madam in that scene."

"He’s humiliated by his brother and all his crew, and it’s like this switch flips. The madam is no more."

"All of these people in front of him? They mean nothing. He stands up, he owns it — Yeah, I’m bulletproof. Anything you say, it will not work. Like you say, it’s scary."

A LOT OF COMPARISIONS ARE MADE BETWEEN AEMOND AND DAEMON, BUT THAT'S A BIG DIFFERENCE: DAEMON GETS INTENSELY ATTACHED, WHETHER TO HIS LATE BROTHER KING VISERYS OR TO HIS NIECE AND WIFE QUEEN RHAENYRA. WE'RE SEEN HIM LEAVE DIFFICULT SITUATIONS, BUT HE STORMS OUT, HE DOESN'T GLIDE OUT. THAT'S AEMOND.

"One hundred percent. You rarely see him lose his cool."

"As soon as you start raising your voice and shouting, you lose the power."

"It’s not to say Aemond isn’t as angry as everyone else behind the smile. He probably is. But he’s able to keep a lid on it and channel it in different ways."

IT'S ALSO A NUDE SCENE, AND I HAVE A FEELING YOU'RE ABOUT TO GET A REACTION AT A VOLUME FEW PEOPLE ON THIS SHOW HAVE SEEN BEFORE. DID YOU HAVE THAT IN MIND WHILE SHOOTING IT?

Mitchell says that the dragon-rider’s display, a topic of much discussion between himself and the creative team prior to filming, was a move “encoded in Aemond’s DNA” — a shock tactic designed to demonstrate that this once-bullied boy will never allow himself to be chastened again.

"Scenes like this start with a conversation about how far you’re prepared to go. It wasn’t a choice we made lightly."

"But it’s true to Aemond that he shocks the audience."

"Weakness is not part of Aemond’s vocabulary."

[meganwritesfanfics]

Hell I'm just a Kid Myself

Jamie Tartt x Reader

The reader finds out she is pregnant with Jamie's baby and she is terrified of what his response will be when he finds out.

I'm planning on making this a series so feel free to comment what you would like to see moving forward.

Check out Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

____________________________________________________________

She stared at the test sitting on the counter, and it felt like she couldn’t breathe. This couldn’t be happening right now.  The plus sign was staring back at her clear as day. She was pregnant. 

“Baby!” She heard a voice echo through the hallway. The familiar Mancurian accent of her boyfriend that usually brought a smile to her face filled her with dread. “I need to head to practice.” 

“Hey Jamie, I’m not feeling well I will see you when you come home.” 

“Do you want me to pick you up anything? Is it your lady time.” Jamie asked and a comment like that would have usually made Y/N roll her eyes and laugh but the reality of the situation at hand had her terrified. 

“Um, yeah, if you could pick me up some chocolate that would be great.” She lied the thought of any food making her nauseous. 

“I love you.” Jamie called and her heart broke. 

They hadn’t been dating for even a year, there was no discussion of a future, and now they were faced with it whether they liked it or not. 

As she heard the front door shut and the sound of his Ashton pulling out of the driveway, Y/N slid to the floor. 

“What am I going to do?” She thought. Suddenly she realized there was only one person she needed to talk to, someone who would give her instant clarity. She crawled her way to the bedroom and grabbed her phone. 

“I need you.” She texted before she curled up onto the bed. 

It took what felt like ages but in reality was record time before she heard the doorbell ring. Before she even had the chance to get out a bed, the door bell rang again. Then by the time she made it out of the room he was pounding on the door. 

“Y/N!” He screamed and she knew that if she didn’t hurry he would bust the door down. 

“Jesus Christ,” She sighed as she through open the door. 

“Where is the prick, what did he do?” Roy snapped his eyes wild. 

“I’m pregnant.” 

Roy’s jaw dropped. “Fuuuuuuuuuucccccckkkk.” 

Y/N broke and buried her face into Roy’s chest as she cried. 

By the time she time Y/N finally calmed down her and Roy had made their way to the couch. 

“What did he say when you told him?” Roy asked. 

“I haven’t told him yet, I found out literally a half hour ago.” 

“Fuckin’ hell!” Roy snapped. “You mean to tell me you told me before you told Jamie.” 

“Yes I…” Y/N started. 

“That is far too much pressure! Plus Jamie is going to kill me. Why haven’t you told him?” 

“I don’t know how he is going to react. We haven’t talked about, I mean fuck Roy we haven’t even being dating that long, and he’s only 25. I’m only 27 I don’t and what about his career. I don’t want to ruin that I just…” Y/N panicked. 

“Woah, hey, look at me.” Roy said as he grabbed her hand. “You cannot panic about something when you don’t even know what the outcome is going to be. Jamie is crazy about you.” 

“And I’m crazy about him, but a baby Roy I don’t know what we are going to do.” 

“It is something that you need to discuss with him, and if he does anything remotely prickish I will kill him.” 

Y/N laughed. “You love him and you know it.” 

Roy grunted causing Y/N to laugh even more. 

Y/N gave Roy a large hug. “Thank you for being the best grumpy therapist a girl could as for.” 

Roy cracked a smile. “Give Jaime a chance, I think he will surprise you.” 

“I hope you are right.” Y/N sighed and she could feel the anxiety in her stomach growing. 

Y/N knew that if she stayed at home and waited until Jamie got back that she was going to go absolutely insane, so instead, she made her way to Nelson Road Stadium. 

Roy walked with her and he could see how badly she was shaking as they walked through the halls. 

“Everything is going to be ok.” Roy tried his best to sooth. 

“Yeah, of course.” Y/N replied but she wasn’t sure. 

“Y/N!” The whole team cheered when she came into the locker room. Ever since she started dating Jamie she had become a regular at the Dog Track and all the guys loved her. 

“Hi baby,” Jamie smiled as he wrapped his arms around her and picked her up swinging her around. 

Her heart felt like it was breaking, she couldn’t help but feel that this could be the last moments she had with Jamie. So she held on tighter than she should. 

“Are you ok?” He whispered. 

“Can I talk to you, in private?” She whispered back. 

She could feel Jamie tense up as he set her back down his eyes full of concern as he looked her up and down trying to figure out what was wrong. 

“Ya’ um, this way.” He said as he grabbed her hand and walked her towards the boot room. 

On her way out she caught Roy’s gaze and watched as he mouthed “Good luck.” 

“Is something wrong or did you just want to see me,” Jamie smirked

“I love you Jamie, so much you know that right.” 

Jamie’s face dropped. “What’s wrong, what did I do?” He asked and Y/N watched his jaw clench. 

“Oh Jamie,” Y/N gasped as she grabbed his face in her hands. “Honey, you didn’t do anything, well actually you did, or rather we did, a lot.” 

“I’m confused, are you breaking up with me or…” 

“No God no, I… fuck.” Y/N said her eyes well up with tears. 

“Baby, you are really starting to freak me out, what’s going on?” 

“I’m… I’m pregnant.” 

Jamie laughed. “Jesus, you really freaked me out Y/N I thought something was wrong.” 

Y/N stared at Jamie tears streaming down her face. 

His laughter faded and and she watched as reality hit in. “You’re preg… how?” 

“Jamie, do I really need to explain that to you.” 

“No that’s not what I mean I… you are pregnant.” He gaped. 

Y/N nodded. 

Jamie opened his mouth but no words came out, for the first time since she met him, Jamie Tartt was speechless. 

“Please say something, I’m freaking out and I just need to know what you are thinking.” Y/N pleaded. 

“I…” He started and Y/N could see the tears in his eyes. “I need to get back to practice.” 

Then he pulled Y/N in for a long kiss before he turned and left. 

“Wait Jamie!” She called. “Fuck!” 

The room went silent for a while before she heard the sound of someone quietly moving. 

“Hi Will,” She sighed.

[valentiyne]

Ashton with a tattoo artist! Love interest. Maybe he goes in to get a tattoo then immediately takes interest in them, going back fo stupid reasons like touch ups, recommending anyone to get tattooed there, just being down bad in general

𝗀𝗋𝖾𝗒𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 ꕥ 𝖺𝗌𝗁𝗍𝗈𝗇 𝗂𝗋𝗐𝗂𝗇

Ashton Irwin x Fem!Reader Summary: Requested! Ashton makes a last-minute booking with coffee made just right. Warnings: N/A Word Count: 1.4k Copyright © 2024 Valentiyne. All rights reserved. This original work is not allowed to be reposted on any platform in any format.

"Are you guys still open?"

It was a cacophony of sounds, with the buzz of the tattoo guns overlapping with the hum of conversations. The other artists' voices were raised over the noise, and the air was thick with the smell of ink and antiseptics. I could hear the sound of the machine moving, the soft thud of the needle on the skin, and the occasional gasp of surprise from a customer.

My boss, Jocelyn leaned over to me with a smile, "I'm off the clock, you're up."

I look up now, trying my hardest to not mean mug the person who ruined my chances of an early freedom tonight. He stood in the doorway, his messy brunette hair pushed back behind his ear and his hands fiddling with the sleeves of his white sweater. His hazel eyes scanned the room before they landed on mine.

"What were you looking to get done?"

"Oh!" he stutters and reaches into his back pocket, pulling out a piece of paper. From the looks of it, it was worn down and ripped in a few places but he hands it over proudly nevertheless.

I inspected it for a while, nodding to myself, "Is it a.... dog?" I quirk an eyebrow, looking up to match his eyes. He nods, a loose strand of hair falling down perfectly on his face, "it's a greyhound, yes"

I nod my head and hand him a clipboard to sign in, inspecting the loose piece of paper once again before heading to the printer. I printed numerous sizes, unsure of how big he wanted it to be.

After all was said and done, he was sitting in my chair and I was nervous checking to make sure I had everything I needed.

Tattoo gun, ink caps, gloves, tattoo gun, ink ca-

"I like the room", He speaks up, motioning to the shelf of miscellaneous items hoarded on them.

He slips the white sweater up and over his head, bundling it in a ball next to him. I make an effort not to stare at his tattooed body, my cheeks flushing up as I keep my back turned.

Obviously I was never like this with any of my other clients, but something about him made me lose my focus. It was unprofessional and unlike me- but god is he hot.

"Thanks, this is basically my second bedroom since i'm here so much" I took a deep breath, sliding my gloves on, and turning towards him. His stencil was already prepped and on his arm, and I stepped towards him slowly.

"You're here often?" He questions, watching as I dip the needle in the ink.

I nod, stretching his skin with my free hand "Yeah, all seven days of the week, unfortunately.... It'd be a little easier if I had any coffee today"

He's silent for a while, my eyes wandering up to see him staring off at the shelves that littered the walls surrounding us.

"Any reason you chose a greyhound?" I attempt ti make conversation, suddenly embarrassed of my trinkets. Not that there was anything wrong with them, I just didn't want him judging me for my childlike interests.

I laid the needle to his skin, hearing him take a deep breath before speaking, "it's for my new album"

I nod in response, dragging the ink down as I trace the stencil. "looks like we're both artists in a sense" I tease, earning a chuckle from him.

Over the next two hours, I learned many things about the boy in my chair. His name was Ashton, he was a musician, he owned a lemon tree and he could hold his breath for a minute and a half. He apologized throughout the course of the night, telling me he wouldn't have stopped in and got a tattoo if he knew we'd be closing soon. I reassured him numerous times, telling him it genuinely wasn't a big deal. He was nice and a great person to talk to.

But after all was said and done, I wrapped his arm and after leaving a hefty tip- he was gone.

I didn't see him for two months after the fact, every time the door would jingle, I found myself snapping my head up to see if it was him

Each time it was not...

"I'm telling you, he came in here and left me a $500 tip, Joss. it was bizarre! I couldn't even find his stupid profile anywhere" I groan, smacking my head down on the desk dramatically.

She giggles at my hopelessness, her hand patting my head kindly, "Maybe he has a girlfriend?"

The door swinging open made me groan louder, lifting my head up with half-lidded eyes and a fake smile.

"Hi sorry we're closing soon, you can book an ap-"

"Closed so soon, sweetheart?" His voice rings out, a stifled laugh following after. I open my eyes quickly to see him standing there, his journal tucked under one arm and two coffees in the other.

I giggle loudly, standing from my chair and walking towards him. "Ashton! where have you been?"

He hands me the coffee, giving me a side hug before pulling his journal out from under his arm. "i'm looking to get another tattoo, and who else would I trust but my sleep deprived tattoo artist"

I try to hide the blush creeping up my face, turning around to show Joss who I've been talking about for weeks. Her mouth is hung open, eyes wide as she looks between the two of us. "That's Ashton....?" She takes a deep breath before shaking her head quickly, "Miss Y/n has been talking my ear off about you since your last visit"

I turn around quickly, shooting daggers as I give her a nice tilt of the head to get lost. She raises her hands in defeat and snatches her coat from the chair I was previously in before waving goodbye. Ashton waves back with a smile before I cover my face in embarrassment.

"Seems like i'm the talk of the town?" He teases and I grab his forearm, leading him to my studio.

He hops up on the chair, sliding off his cardigan and showing me his healed greyhound. I analyze it carefully, smiling up at him. "It looks amazing!"

"Wonder who did it?" He teases, poking my side playfully. I roll my eyes and flip through the notebook, passing by song lyrics, doodles, and other random scribbles before I pause at a drawing on the last page.

It was a scribble of me hunched over tattooing his greyhound. my tongue poked out to the side with a look of pure concentration spread across my face.

My cheeks grow red and I look up at Ash, a look of confusion and admiration painted. "Wha?"

"To be fair, I came for a touch-up on a few older pieces but... Also to ask if you'd like to come to dinner with me tonight?"

I couldn't believe what I was hearing, internally I was squealing like a little girl.

"I would love to."

[morningfears]

Second Chance

rating: pg

Summary: Ashton was your first love. It was a case of right person, wrong time. But sometimes, life gives you second chances. Warnings: None, just cute and soft. Pairing: Ashton x GN!Reader (Pretty sure GN but if you catch anything, let me know and I’ll change it to the correct pairing) Word Count: 1.5k

Though nearly six years had passed since your last first date with Ashton, it felt as if nearly no time at all had elapsed as you sat across from him. That last first date, one that also spanned an entire evening, launched a two-year relationship. It found your first love and you felt a sort of deja vu as he easily recounted a new tale from tour.

This Ashton - years older, years wiser - was simultaneously familiar and so very different. He still carried himself with an ease you found comforting, armed with a bright smile and infectious laughter, but there were more layers now. Behind those hazel eyes lingered a deeper understanding of the world, an understanding of life that hadn’t been present at twenty-three and you did nothing to hide the soft smile that lifted the corners of your mouth as he gestured wildly.

“So, did Cal ever realize it was Luke hiding his shoes or does he still think it was Michael?”

Empty coffee cups lingered on the table, long since cleared of your dinner plates, as the restaurant slowly closed around you. Hours had passed, spent lost in conversation - catching up on lost time, listening to the melodic sound of his voice - and you knew you’d have to leave soon.

Still, rather than relaying that thought, you leaned forward with a grin as you waited for his answer.

“Think he realized after a few shows,” Ashton admitted, laughing as he idly wrapped a hand around an empty cup. “Wouldn’t surprise me if he’s waiting to get him back, though. Luke’ll have forgotten all about it by the time Cal attacks.”

“You know, it’s kinda comforting to know that no matter how much things change, some things stay the same.”

Both of you had grown since you last saw one another. Your early twenties were gone, replaced by true adulthood - a career, taxes, responsibilities that sometimes seemed overwhelming - and it was evident in the conversation you’d had. There’d been discussion of family, friends and their marriages and their children; there’d been talk of work, of the inability to recover the way you used to; there’d been a whole tangent about diets and playful complaints at the fact that spicy food grew harder to stomach the older you got.

But knowing that there were still those moments of levity calmed any remaining nerves lingering in the pit of your stomach. Because as different as things were, there was still a glimpse of the Ashton you fell in love with and it made you hopeful that things might be different this time.

Ashton opened his mouth to respond, words on the tip of his tongue, but before he could speak, a soft voice popped through the bubble you’d spent most of the night in.

“Sorry,” she began, politely apologetic. “Just wanted to check in. We’re closing the kitchen so, if you’d like anything else, now is the time. And if not, I’ve got the check.”

The pair of you blinked, both surprised at the time as you spared a glance around the now empty restaurant, before you grimaced apologetically. “Sorry,” Ashton laughed, “didn’t realize how late it was. We’re good.”

“Yeah, we’ll get out of here so you guys can close. Sorry,” you repeated, following suit as Ashton stood from his seat and took the bill.

In a matter of moments, you were standing outside the restaurant, glancing back as the staff turned the sign and began closing up. It reminded you of the past, of nights when you’d close down restaurants just to spend a few extra hours together after he returned from the road, and you couldn’t help but laugh as you headed for the parking lot.

“Guess some things don’t change.” He grinned, eyes bright and glittering in the city lights as he drifted closer to you. His hand bumped yours, body bleeding warmth as tipped his head to glance at you.

“Can’t believe we spent all night sitting there.” It was a quiet observation, whispered into the wind as you wandered slowly down the sidewalk. “Felt like no time at all.”

“It was always like that with us,” he reminded you - as if you’d somehow forgotten just how easy things were for most of your relationship. “Even at the end, we could talk forever and not get tired of one another.”

“I think the accent helped back then.” Ashton rolled his eyes fondly, laughing as his hand brushed yours once more, while you ducked your head. “You’ve always been easy to talk to. You’re kinda captivating, Ash.”

It was true. Ashton had always captured your attention wholly. His voice, warm and honeyed; his way with words, always so thoughtful and intriguing; his general demeanor, easy and bright - everything about him made you want to lose yourself in him and you continued to be reminded of why you’d loved him so fiercely for so long.

“You’re one to talk, sweetheart.”

There was little you could say in response, little your brain seemed to process, so you opted for the next best thing. After a moment’s hesitation, you took Ashton’s hand in your own and laced your fingers together. From the corner of your eye, you saw his grin grow wider - beaming, even in the dim moonlight - and smiled as you drew closer to the car.

The night was coming to an end, as sad as that made you, but you could see more nights like it in your future.

Conversation tapered off into comfortable silence then, neither of you compelled to speak just for the sake of it, and it was yet another reminder of what you’d missed. Things with Ashton had always held a level of ease that no one else had compared to and it was comforting to revel in the quiet, even as you climbed into the car and an old rock song began to play.

As Ashton tapped his fingers along to the song on the radio, you took the opportunity to study him. He sat bathed in the warm glow of streetlights, side profile exactly as you remembered it. There were a few minute changes - his hair had grown a little longer, facial hair covered cheeks that had grown a bit fuller - but you were reminded of why you’d always fawned over him.

There was something magnetic about him, something bright and beautiful that drew you in and kept you tethered in his orbit. He’d always been beautiful, both physically and mentally, and you were grateful for the chance to reconnect.

However, all too soon, you found yourselves parked in the lot of your building and heading up the sidewalk to your door.

“This was nice,” you conceded, smiling as you lingered near your front door. “I missed this.” With only a split second of consideration, brain working on overdrive to rid itself of any doubt, you admitted, “I missed you.”

Ashton, whose cheeks tinted pink beneath the scruff of his facial hair in a way that made your chest ache pleasantly, smiled brightly as he nodded. “I missed you, too.” His agreement was easy, ready, as he took a tentative step closer. “I’m really glad you said yes to tonight. I was afraid you wouldn’t.”

“I never considered anything other than yes.” There’d been no real thought, no other answer you could’ve given him. Though your relationship ended way back when, Ashton had always been the one that got away. Getting a second chance was more than you could’ve asked for. “I’m really glad we bumped into each other.”

It was a moment of serendipity, a coincidence that hadn’t occurred in the years you’d spent apart, and you knew Ashton was just as happy for the chance as he nodded his agreement.

Another step closer, another smile, as Ashton seemed to weigh his words. “I didn’t know if we’d see each other again,” he admitted, voice quiet as he closed the distance between you. “I always wanted to, always thought about reaching out, but I was afraid. I’m glad the universe made the decision for us.”

Ashton lifted his hand, soft and warm as it pressed to your cheek, and leaned in to press a soft kiss to your lips. “I want to do this right this time,” he declared, voice soft and washing over you as your eyes fluttered. “I don’t want to rush and fuck it all up again.”

“No one fucked it up last time,” you reminded him, tone matching his as you gripped his bicep softly. “It was just the wrong time. Things are different now, though.”

“Second time’s the charm.” His easy agreement was all you needed to close the small space between you once more, returning your lips to his in another soft kiss.

The second chance was what you both needed, another shot at a love you’d missed so dearly, and you were glad to have gotten it. No matter what happened, you were hopeful that this time, the second time would be the charm.

_________________________________________________

Author's Note: I dunno, man. I'm just writing while my brain will let me.

[anathemaloren]

flowers and tea

Naomi McPherson x fem!florist!reader

🌼Warnings - 2 curse words? and english is not my first language

🌼Genre - fluff (i guess)

🌼Word count - 3.4k (WHAT?!)

🌼Notes - OH MY GOD, you don't know how much time I've spent writing this like 3k words???? that's just crazy. also, i wrote this in several classes at school, sorry arturo, montse and chus 🙏🏼 and this is dedicated to carolina who tried to peek into the story and i didn't let her, luv ya bubs

Having her own shop was a dream and a nightmare at the same time for Y/n L/n.  Paying the bills, keeping the flowers beautiful the whole day through, being all day on her feet or dealing with rude costumers were all things Y/n wished she could get rid of. But at the same time, she truly loved her job. Being able to surround herself with flowers was a dream come true, and seeing a smile on the face of a happy customer really made her day. Plus, the shop was in a strategic place in Los Angeles where sometimes famous people came through, and she even had a few celebrities who were usual shoppers. Lucy Dacus stopped from time to time to buy flowers in order to dry them, and considered Y/n a friend. Pedro Pascal always bought flowers for his sister from Y/n, and Ashton Irwin loved to stop by for a chat about how to keep his plants as beautiful as Y/n’s. So, Y/n shouldn’t fall easily for a star, right?

          It was a slow day, so Y/n busied herself rearranging flowers on the back of the shop. She was calmly arranging a bouquet of lilies when she heard the bell on top of the door and a pair of shoes rushing in. Curious about who would come bursting in like that, she lowered the volume of the Glenn Miller vinyl that was playing on the background and stepped into the front of the shop while cleaning her hands on her apron. She then saw a person looking like they had run for 10 kilometres, with curls sticking to their red face, and trying to catch some air.

          “Hi.” Y/n said calmly “Can I help you with something?” she asked. “Yeah, I think you would be unbelievably helpful right now” they said, making Y/n chuckle amused. “Tell me, what can I do for you?” she said, taking her notebook out, just in case she needed to write something down. The person standing on the other side of the counter leaned a bit on it and tried to arrange the curls around their head. “It’s my mum’s birthday, and I’ve been so busy that I completely forgot about buying her something, and I love her very much I can’t just not buy her anything, and I’m meeting her tonight, I can’t show up empty handed” they said without stopping, catching a quick deep breath “. So Lucy told me to come here and say to you that she sent me and that you could arrange something with flowers that have meaning for, like… now… could you?” they finished, looking expectantly at Y/n. The girl just blinked a few times, taking all the information in. “Which Lucy sent you?” she asked, testing the person’s connection to her, not truly trusting them yet, even though they looked like a decent person to her. “Ummm… Lucy Dacus?” they said, with caution. Y/n visibly lighted up, smiling at the thought of the black haired girl recommending her to her friends. “Well, you should’ve started with that.” She said, turning around and starting to walk to the back of the shop, turning around again to gesture to the still nameless person to follow her back.

          If the front of the shop was a dream, full of aromatic plants and antique furniture, the back of it was another level of etherealism. Besides another huge amount of plants and flowers, one wall was a window wall, made out of old looking stained glass of art déco style. There was a table with two chairs were Y/n would have tea, sometimes with someone else, and behind the table there was a bookshelf with heaps of books about flowers and their care and meanings. In the middle of the room there was a worktable with a few half-arranged bouquets of lilies of different colours. Y/n moved with ease around the space, and she turned to face the stranger once she got to the workbench, only to find said stranger with their mouth half opened in awe.

          “Are you okay?” Y/n asked, slightly amused with the reaction she was witnessing. The stranger blinked a few times as if to come out of some sort of trance, and responded after centering themselves in the conversation again “Yeah, yeah, fine” they said, making Y/n’s smile a bit brighter. “I’m Naomi, by the way” the stranger said, finally giving a name to the curious person. “Oh, yeas, from Muna, right?” Y/n said, eliciting a nod from Naomi. “Lucy has told me so much about all of you, I don’t know how I couldn’t recognize you the moment you walked in” she said, making Naomi smile a bit. “She really talks about me to you?” Naomi asked, feeling a wave of affection for their friend. “Yeah, she talks about all of you all the time” Y/n said, giggling a bit “. I almost feel like I know you personally sometimes, although meeting you in person makes me realize she forgot to mention some things” she said, standing behind the working table and moving the flowers around to make space for others. “Like what?” Naomi asked, furrowing their brows, thinking that maybe they had given a terrible first impression, when they had been mesmerized with Y/n since they had seen her. The girl standing opposite to them smiled at them coyly before saying nonchalantly “For starters, she forgot to mention you are even more handsome on real life than on pictures.” The comment made the curly haired blush, not expecting the sweet looking florist to be so flirty and straightforward.

          Naomi’s reaction made Y/n giggle, feeling like she couldn’t stop smiling around them. She didn’t know where the confidence to be so bold had come from, either. She then decided to stop messing around and get to work. “So” she said, clearing her throat before continuing ´´, what did you want for your mum?” Naomi shook their head for a second, pulling themselves together about the flirty comment from before, and answered the question “I truly don’t know, I just want to tell her I love her, and flowers seemed like a good option” they said, being truly bad at flowers. “So you want to send a message with these flowers” Y/n said, looking at Naomi attentively. “Yeah, basically” they answered, doubting a bit about the rightness of their answer. “Well, if you want I can arrange a bouquet with flowers that mean that you love her” Y/n smiled, always loving to do bouquets with deep meanings. “Do you mean flowers mean something specific?” Naomi asked, making Y/n clutch her pearls in feigned offense. “Of course they do! That’s my job you’re talking about!” she said, making Naomi laugh. Y/n smiled and walked over to the bookshelf, picking up and old-looking book, with a pink cover and golden details.

          Y/n sat down on one of the chairs of the table, signalling Naomi to sit in the other one. The florist browsed through the book, in which Naomi could only see beautiful illustrations and paragraphs of what they could guess was information about the flowers in the other page. When Y/n finally had all the information she needed, she closed the book and looked up, only to find the curly haired brunet already looking at her. This discovery made the girl blush and Naomi look away immediately, embarrassed about being caught. Y/n decided not to panic, clearing her throat before speaking “I think I’ve found the ideal flowers” she said “. If you follow me, I can show them to you” she continued, while standing up, already blushing a bit again. Where had all the previous confidence gone? The person now standing in front of her was truly messing with her emotions, and they had only met for roughly 25 minutes, even less.

          Y/n waltzed around the room picking up flowers, oblivious to the mesmerized client who was following her. She picked up the flowers and explained their meanings to Naomi “White carnations mean purity, love and beauty; the azaleas are a symbol of womanhood in China, and they are a symbol of love; daisies symbolize purity and innocence; and camellias represent gratitude and longevity” Although Naomi seemed like they were just hypnotized about the girl’s beauty, her words were also enthralling to them. After coming back with the flowers to the worktable, Y/n asked Naomi about their opinion, at which they could only stutter an OK, making the girl working in the bouquet blush and giggle.

          When she finished the bouquet, the mixture of carnations, daisies, azaleas and camellias looked beautiful. Y/n’s talent was something that had Naomi’s mouth open in amazement. Their head couldn’t wrap around the fact that two hands and a few flowers had given such result, the florist’s talent oozing from every aspect of the bouquet. Besides from the big possibility of their mum loving the bouquet, Naomi had also fallen in love with the care and talent Y/n had shown making it. Maybe they had also fallen for the hands responsible of such beauty, and the person who controlled them with so much grace.

          Y/n finished wrapping the bouquet, not really wanting Naomi to leave her shop. But she knew she couldn’t stop a big ass pop star that surely wasn’t going to fall for her. “I think this is finished” she said, nerves flowing through her whole body. “We can go to the front now” she continued, now moving to the front of the shop, bouquet in hand. While Naomi paid with her card, Y/n finished preparing the gift. When she turned around to get the business card she always gave out to first time clients, she hesitated when deciding what complimentary flower to give to Naomi. She finally chose a lavender coloured rose. She nervously put the flower and the card in a bag with the flowers. She didn’t know why she was so shaken, Naomi probably didn’t share her feelings; for fuck’s sake, they had known each other for something more than an hour. When Y/n gave the bag to Naomi their fingers brushed ever so slightly, which resulted in different reactions; Y/n let out a sigh, while Naomi froze immediately. When the florist realized they had spent more time than necessary in that position, she put her hand back as Naomi’s suddenly burned. They just blinked a few times, blushed, turned back and marched through the door mustering a rushed thanks and a farewell. Y/n sighed when Naomi was finally out, leaning on the counter and placing her head between her hands. What a naïve thought, that someone like Naomi McPherson could ever like someone like her. Now, she just had to move on, and try to forget about them.

Lucy Dacus had decided to have a quiet night. She had a nice dinner, placed a few candles and played some soft background music. She then picked up her current read, and with a cup of a delicious tea that Y/n had suggested her, she got ready to relax, plunging down on the armchair she loved the most. That relaxing, though, didn’t last long, as she heard the doorbell ring. She groaned, detangling herself and getting up to open the door. If it was her annoying neighbour again, she was ready to throw hands. However, when she opened the door, there was no nosy neighbour on the other side; instead, Naomi was there, nervously biting her nails, and looking a bit miserable. “Naomi? What are you doing here? Are you okay?” Lucy asked, worried about her friend’s state. “Where the fuck did you send me?” they just said, spreading their arms exasperated. “What?” Lucy just said, sincerely confused. Seeing as the only answer from Naomi was a pair of widened eyes, which lead to Lucy sighing and moving from the door, signalling Naomi to come in. Goodbye, quiet night.

          After a cup of tea, Naomi had calmed down, and they had told Lucy about those afternoon events. “And when I finished dinner with my mum I needed to vent, and as you were the one who told me to go to her, I just…” they finished, trailing down at the end. Lucy nodded in understanding, not needing to hear more from her friend before concluding “So basically, you fell head over heels for her and you think she doesn’t correspond your feelings”. Naomi just mustered a “yeah” while dropping their head in defeat. Lucy nodded again, leaning back on the armchair she was sitting in. “Well, we can kind of know how she feels about you” she said, smiling softly, making Naomi shoot their head up, waiting for a solution for their problems. “Did you keep the flower she gave you with her card?” Lucy said, already knowing the answer. Naomi slowly reached for a pocket in their jacket, taking out a lavender rose. Lucy got up and moved towards a shelf next to a window, where she saw rain starting to pour. She took a book from the shelf, under the curious stare of her friend. The book was a Victorian guide to flower meanings, which Lucy had somehow managed to thrift. She looked through the book sat on the armchair again. She could feel Naomi biting their nails and looking nervously at her. Finally, she found it. “It says here that lavender roses mean…” Lucy stopped, looking kindly at the meaning “It’s a flower that represents enchantment love at first sight” she said, looking again at Naomi, whose mouth was now partly opened in shock and eyes completely opened. They quickly recomposed and started shaking their head in denial. “Come on, Dacus, stop playing” they said, not believing what Lucy was saying. “I’m not” Lucy replied, showing the book to them. Naomi was feeling a weird mix of emotions, between shock, denial and complete confusion, with a tint of utter affection. Was this some kind of sick and twisted joke?

          Naomi got up and started pacing Lucy’s living room, not sure about what that really meant. They knew they had liked Y/n, call it love at first sight if you feel like it, but something had bloomed in that flower shop, and not only the plants. Lucy closed the book and laid back, deciding to leave Naomi to walk around and calm down. They finally did, sitting across Lucy again. Taking a deep breath, the curly haired talked for the first time in the last few minutes, breaking the silence that had settled itself on the room, mixed with the sound of drops of the still pouring rain. “What do you think I should do?” they asked Lucy for advice, with a hint of somewhat fear on their voice. “I can’t decide anything for you” Lucy said, shaking their head. “I’m not asking for instructions, Luce, I want your opinion” Naomi said, in a soft tone. Lucy sighed and leaned towards her friend “Do you like Y/n?” she asked, not really expecting a forward answer. “Yeah, I think I do” Naomi said with a sincere voice, astounding Lucy, who blinked and talked again. “Do you want to tell her that?” “I think I do” they replied again. Lucy questioned Naomi for a third time “I have her address. Do you want me to give it to you?” she said, and spoke again before Naomi could say anything “And don’t say that you think you do” she half-threatened. Her friend closed their mouth, opening it not much of a second later “I truly want her address” Lucy nodded, getting up to write it on a blue piece of paper. When she finished, she folded it and gave it to Naomi, who was standing up, nervously playing with their fingers. The moment they had the paper, they gave a heartfelt hug to Lucy, and then sprinted to the door. Lucy saw them get into their car and smiled softly. She didn’t mind a night not so quiet if it was for the sake of romance.

Y/n was laying on her couch, one feet dangling off it. She laid there, looking at pictures of Naomi on Pinterest, although if someone asked, she was reading the Rilke book that was now laying on the coffee table next to her. She sighed, turning her phone off and keeping to staring to the ceiling. How was she so stupid that she had been so enchanted by someone who had been in her store for an hour. She stood up and picked up the book, deciding it was enough pining for someone she probably would never see again. She read a few pages, but didn’t last long before putting the book in her lap and looking out the window. She looked at the pouring rain, which she loved. She knew she should hate the rain, but she loved the romanticism of it all, even though she knew she would never have her ever so idyllic love confession in the rain.

          Just as she was lost on her thoughts, Y/n heard the doorbell ring. She wondered who the hell would be knocking at that time in the night, even more with that terrible weather, which truly didn’t invite to going out. She kept wondering who it could be as she walked to the door, expecting to see a neighbour or someone trying to sell her some stupid product. However, the only person she found waiting outside of her house was a drenched Naomi. Y/n’s eyes opened wide as she took the sigh in, with her breath getting caught in her throat.

          Y/n talked, although the lump she felt on her throat made it a bit difficult. “What are you doing here?” she said, not being able to move herself from her spot on the door entrance. “I needed to see you” they said, with a tint of hopelessness in their voice. Y/n felt like flowers were blooming in her stomach, with the leaves and petals tickling her stomach. “How did you know where I lived?” Y/n asked again, nerves now flowing through her system. Naomi looked a bit guilty before answering “Lucy gave it to me, I asked her for it”. Y/n made a mental note of scolding her later, but asked the last question she couldn’t stop pondering about. “And why did you want to see me, Naomi?” she said, not sure if she wanted to hear the response. Naomi breathed deeply before replying. “I like you” they said, making Y/n’ world turn upside down in a matter of microseconds. She tried to calm down her breath, that was now working, but too fast for anyone’s liking.

          However, Naomi misinterpreted the silence, thinking that Y/n was somewhat outraged by the statement, apologizing while moving back to what Y/n suspected was their car “I’m sorry, this was a mistake”. Y/n snapped back then, following Naomi to their car with a quick pace “Naomi, wait!” she said, trying to get Naomi to look at her. The curly haired, which hair was now not so curly as it was soaked and stuck to their face, turned around and looked at her with a pained look on their face. Y/n tried to find the words, but they seemed to be stuck to the walls of her throat. Naomi exhaled, turning back once more to unlock their car. Seeing as the opportunity of confessing was slipping through her fingers, Y/n decided to take matter in her own hands… literally. She got closer to Naomi and took their face into their hands, pulling them in for a kiss. The kiss was short and sweet, and Y/n pulled away to see what reaction that had elicited from Naomi. They just stared at Y/n with a look of shock on their face, that didn’t last so long, as their brain decided to finally act. Naomi took Y/n face in her hands and kissed her again, now deepening the kiss. The moment under the rain seemed to last forever, as both their hearts synchronized in loud thumps. When they finally pulled away from one another, the rain kept pouring over them with an astounding force that seemed to mimic the strength of their feelings for one another. They were both soaked as they stood outside of Y/n’s house, smiling to each other like the infatuated idiots that they were.

          “I liked the flower” Naomi said, still not getting away from one another. Y/n laughed, touching her forehead with Naomi’s. “It was not as subtle as I intended it to, I guess” she said, making Naomi laugh now. “I liked it better that way” they voiced, giving a small kiss to the side of Y/n lips. It that was a dream, they both hope they would never wake up.

[absolutewhore101]

can i request some fluff with ashton, reader being sad cuz they're being excluded from a friend group but ash comforts her to make her feel less alone? <3

Less Alone

A/N: hope you enjoy!

Pairing: Ashton Irwin x GN!Reader

Summary: Ash makes you feel less alone when your friends are less than stellar

Word Count: 1.1K

Warnings: some swearing, shitty friends

Minors DNI

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You should’ve known. Your whole life, you’d been the one left out of parties, or plans, or group trips, hell even group chats. You were just never included. 

And you’d learned to cope - got used to being alone. And eventually, it stopped hurting so much. You were comfortable in your own presence and spending time with yourself, and then, you didn’t have to be. Because you had Ashton. 

Ashton was the one person in your life who made you feel included in every possible aspect. He asked for your opinion on everything from his shoes to new music he was working on. And he never made a decision without your input, even if it was just what you were having for dinner or what movie to watch. 

But you still had other friends. A whole group of them, actually. Rosie, Liam, and Ollie. The four of you did just about everything together, and for the first time, you felt truly included in a group. 

You went out to eat at least twice a week, constantly messaged in the group chat, and even had plans to take a trip in a few weeks. It was new territory, for sure, but you were having so much fun navigating it that you didn’t mind. 

Until, of course, the inevitable happened. 

It wasn’t that big of a deal, really. At least that’s what you’d been telling yourself. All they did was go out to eat without you. At your favorite restaurant. In the middle of the worst week of your life - which they were all well aware of. 

It has to be me. Otherwise it wouldn’t keep happening.

You stared at your phone, the picture of the three of them smiling back at you doing nothing to cheer you up. Ashton was still at the studio, he’d called you earlier to let you know that he’d be home a little later that night, so you were left to deal with this entirely on your own. 

You texted the group chat, doing your best to pretend you had no idea where they were. 

Hey, guys! I’ve got a bit of free time, anyone wanna come over for a little while???

Rosie: Sorry, hun! I’m all tangled up at the office right now, big project coming up

Liam: Yeah, I’m currently on a hike with a few friends, and we’re not gonna be back anytime soon

Ollie: I’d love to if I wasn’t walking into the gym as we speak. Sry luv :( 

So now they weren’t just excluding you, they were lying straight to your face about it. You felt a tear roll down your cheek and you immediately wiped it away, doing your best to pretend like this had absolutely no effect on you. 

But soon enough, you couldn’t hold them in. They fell and fell and fell until you heard the door open. 

“I’m home, sweets! Thought we could try that new Thai restaurant for dinner if your up for-” 

He cut himself off at the sight of your tears. 

“Hey, honey, what’s going on?” He asked, sitting down next to you. You wrapped yourself around him, burying your face into his chest as you cried. 

“I don’t know why it happens every time, Ash, but it does. It has to be me. I have to be the one pushing them away or something.” You complained. 

Ashton was confused until he caught sight of your phone lying face up on the couch next to him. He took in what he was seeing and immediately understood. 

“Oh, dove, it’s not you. You just happen to find the shittiest people on the planet.” He said, attempting to comfort you. It helped to some measure because he felt more than heard you let out a giggle. 

“They’re not shitty people.” You commented. 

“Yeah, well, either way, fuck them. It’ll just be you and I tonight, alright?” You nodded against his chest, pulling back to look up at him. 

You smiled, pressing a kiss to his lips. “Thank you.” You mumbled. 

“Anything for you.”

A few minutes later, Ash was ordering takeout while you were debating what movie to watch. 

“Babe, do you want to watch Coraline or Pride and Prejudice?” You asked when he walked back into the room. 

“Oh, Coraline, for sure.” He responded. 

You laughed, clicking on the movie but pausing it before it started. 

“Food should be here in about 20 minutes.”

“Perfect.” You grabbed his hand, dragging him upstairs and into the master bathroom. 

He watched as you dug through one of your drawers, eventually pulling out two face masks. 

“Yes.” He said before you could get a word out. “100% yes.”

You smiled, placing one package down on the counter before opening the other one, gingerly applying it to Ashton’s face.

“Well don’t you look so handsome?” You playfully teased, smoothing out a wrinkle with your finger. 

“I should hope so.” He said, admiring himself in the mirror. You hopped up onto the counter, watching as he opened the second one and put it on your face this time. 

“How long do we leave these on for?” He asked you, picking up the empty package. 

“Um, probably about 15 minutes.” You responded. He nodded, and the two of you made your way back downstairs. 

15 minutes later, the masks were taken off, just a few moments before the doorbell rang to signify the arrival of your dinner. 

You made yourself comfortable on the couch as Ashton got the food, admiring him as he walked into the living room. 

“Are you looking at me like that because I have food?” He playfully asked you.

You shook your head. 

“I’m looking at you like that because I love you and I appreciate everything you’re doing for me.”

His face flushed, and he smiled as he set down the food. He walked around the coffee table, crouching down in front of where you were sitting on the couch. 

“I’d do this for you even if you weren’t having a tough week. I’d do whatever you asked of me whenever you asked me to. I love you so much, sweets, and all I want in this world is to make you as happy as I possibly can.”

You were crying for the second time that night, but (thankfully) for a much different reason. You leaned forward, connecting your lips once again, trying to convey as much love as you could through the kiss. 

When you pulled away, Ashton pressed a quick kiss to your nose.

“Now, how about we eat some food and watch a movie and pretend like none of that bad stuff ever happened?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tell me your thoughts! Thank you for reading :)

[ughkat]

crush | c.t.h

part two

part one here

{ probably gonna turn this into a series so be patient for a part 3! }

cal x fem!reader

fluff?, kissing, drinking

not proofread

-

"You should text Cal."...

I sat still in my bed, looking at my screen in confusion at Ashton's text. My brain unbelievably pieced together his distant attitude being tied to an attraction towards me. I furrowed my eyebrows and bit the inside of my cheek with doubt. There was no way he had a crush on me. I would know, right?

I hesitantly exited my messages with Ashton, scrolling to mine with Calum. Looking at my screen aimlessly, my thumbs shifted over the empty text box, thinking of something to say. I didn't want to scare him off, so I started simple.

"Hey"

I typed slowly, pressing send with shaky hands. I knew my nervousness wasn't stemmed from talking Calum himself, but more of finding out the full truth from him personally. Three dots appeared quickly, making my leg bounce with anxiety.

"Hi"

He responded flatly. I sighed at his dry tone. I knew his stubbornness would aide for an inconclusive conversation, so I decided to jump right in.

"What did Ashton mean before he ended the stream?" I sent the text hesitant, trying my best to sound nonchalant.

"Idk what you're talking about lol.".

His pathetic attempt at minor gaslighting me failed, I continued to push.

"Yes you do. Correct me if I'm wrong but he said you're mad at me because you love me?"

"Of course I love you. We all love you, you're my best friend."

I tossed my head back in frustration, rethinking my own suspicions. I realized I wasn't going to get what I wanted from him through a text, so I tried something else.

"Can we hangout tomorrow, just us? I feel like we need it."

I typed genuinely, knowing if he was telling the truth, he'd oblige. As the two of us hanging out alone used to be a common occurrence.

"You have work tomorrow."

He tried to think of a get away.

"I get off at 6. I'll see you after?"

I typed, giving him almost no choice but to see me. I watched patiently has I was left on read for a few minutes before Calum replied.

"I'm bringing drinks."

I smirked at his usual sass and need for a substance to calm his obvious.

" :) see you tomorrow."

I replied before switching my phone off and setting it beside me. I couldn't help but let butterflies slowly fill my stomach at the thought of myself making Calum flustered. For years, though I always found him attractive and had an underlying physical draw to him, I never imagined him more than anything than a friend. But I started to wonder if that was because I wanted it that way, or because I thought it had to be that way.

I began to doubt my own feelings towards Calum as I stared blankly at my wall in front of me. I bit my cheek as I reminisced on past memories and emotions throughout the years with Calum. I realized I never gave the thought of Calum as more than a friend a chance only for the wellness of our friendship as a group.

I stopped my thoughts in their tracks, snapping out of my trance and reminding myself that Calum hadn't confirmed nor denied his attraction to me yet, and I still could have simply misheard Ashton over my phone speaker. I settled deeply into my bed, letting my eyes flutter shut as I reassured myself of the pros and cons of tomorrows plans.

The sounds of footsteps and the occasional phone ringing filled the silence around me as I sat in boredom at my job. I had 15 minutes left of my shift, and all I could think about was the boy I would be meeting with when I got home. I tapped a pen mindlessly on the desk in front of me, my hours going by quickly while I let my mind wander about Calum.

On the dot, 6:00 rolled around and I began packing my belongings into my bag to head out to my car. I reached for my phone on my way out of the doors to reveal a message from Calum.

"Let me know when you're home.".

I caught myself smiling at his straight words, tucking my phone back into my pocket. I hurried quickly to my car, tossing my bag into the passenger seat before pulling out into the road.

I scolded myself mentally during my drive for beginning to fantasize about the possibilities with Calum and I. A smile escaped my lips at the idea of hearing Ashton's words correctly, and Calum really liking me.

Arriving home, I quickly raced to my bedroom, changing out of my work clothes and into black pajama shorts and oversized t-shirt. Leaving my makeup how it was, I pulled my hair out of its ponytail, running my hands through the tangles as I made my way to my bed, opening my phone.

"I'm home"

I sent a simple text to Calum before laying out on my back across my bed, letting out a tired breath. I rolled my ankles lazily, taking in the comfort of my bed before a single ding rang from my phone.

"Omw."

I bounced my leg anxiously awaiting Calum's arrival. Suddenly, it was like I was meeting him for the first time. I began to do things I wouldn't before think twice about. I checked my appearance multiple times in the mirror, made my bed, and tidied up my room. All things that I never cared about the boys, including Calum, minding before.

A few quiet knock fell at my front door, making me jolt from my frantic fidgeting. I calmly made my way to the front door, opening it to reveal Calum carrying a single plastic grocery bag.

"I have drinks and snacks." He lifted the bag slightly, speaking with a half smile. I stepped to the side, inviting him in. Already, I could sense his tense energy. I led him to the couch, I felt my heartbeat pick up its pace at the feeling of him so close behind me.

We took our seats beside each other, Calum leaving an awkwardly large space between us.

"Beer?" Calum offered blankly, reaching for the 6 pack of beer. I shook my head, more focused on the subject matter on my mind.

"No, thanks.".

"Wanna watch a movie or something?" He asked, forcing a fake civil smile.

The two of us sat sharing a glance for a moment before I took the wheel impatiently.

"I know you're lying." I spoke, looking down at my hands. Calum turned his head towards me quickly.

"What?"

"You're lying." I repeated, looking at his with a frustrated smile, "I know what heard on that stream, Cal." I leaned deeper into the couch, watching Calum's eyes dart across the room. He let out a sigh, appearing to be trying to gather his words.

"What do you want me to say?" He muttered quietly, making eye contact loosely. I looked down to my hands before back up to him through my eyelashes cautiously, watching his anxious expression.

"Is it true?" I spoke almost at a whisper, picking at my thumbs anxiously. He looked at me slowly, swallowing a lump in his throat before speaking deeply.

"What if it is?" He shrugged gently. I let out a sigh at his small confession, relieved at his words, yet finding myself in another boat of confusion.

"Why didn't you tell me before?" I spoke, moving closer to him, feeling my energy being pulled towards his. He looked away as I got closer, becoming visually nervous. Looking back at me, he replied.

"I wanted to at first" He began, "But I kept ignoring it after some years. I was scared of what you'd say." He mumbled.

"And Ashton knew all this time" I continued, tilting my head. He looked down.

"Yeah, he thought you wouldn't feel the same either.".

We sat quietly in each others silence for a moment, sharing glances and collecting our thoughts. I felt myself warm up inside at the confessions coming from Calum, guiding my next few bold moves.

"Cal." I spoke with a smile, moving in closer. His head perked up quickly at my movements.

"Hm?" He muttered quietly.

"You should've told me sooner." I began softly.

"Why..?" He furrowed his eyebrows, his eyes darting to mine back and forth.

My eyes were stuck in a trance deeply into his sparking brown ones, and my mind took control. Without thinking, I leaned in quickly, pressing my lips to his passionately. He released a small gasp before swiftly closing his eyes, melting into the kiss as well. I pulled back quickly with semi wide eyes, looking at Calum nervously. His mouth was half agape, searching for his words. I watched his shocked expression and loss for words, instantly doubting my actions.

"I-." I started, looking down, "I'm sorry Cal, I do-" I was abruptly cut off by Calum pulling me in for another kiss, holding the side of my face with a gentle hand. I chill ran through me as our lips intertwined perfectly, making me melt under his touch. His mouth on mine was the deciding factor that I wanted every bit of Calum, in every way, all of the time.

He pulled away slowly, looking at me adoringly in the eyes. A smile escaped his lips, followed by us giggling in unison at our impulsive actions.

"Was that so hard?" I teased lightly, filled with joy at the breakthrough Calum had made.

"If I knew this was gonna' happen, I definitely would have told you sooner." He joked with a scoff. I giggled, leaning back into the couch with a sigh.

"Was this your plan the whole time?" He asked smugly, narrowing his eyes. I rolled my eyes, shaking my head.

"No, actually." I laughed, "I came into this blind. Didn't have a plan." I reached for a beer from the coffee table in front of us, cracking it open swiftly and taking a sip. Calum rolled his head back lazily on the couch before speaking.

"In all realness though, I really do like you," He began, "Like, a lot. And I have for a really long time." I began to confess slowly as he joined me with a drink.

"How long?" I asked genuinely, I turned to look at him as he continued.

"Ever since Ash started bringing you around, really. Truthfully, you're one of the most beautiful girls i've ever met, Y/n." He chuckled with embarrassment, looking down to his drink. I blushed uncontrollably at his words, mimicking his actions and looking down.

"Whatever." I giggled at his hyperbole of my description. How could someone as fit as Calum find me to be the most beautiful girl he's ever met?

"It's true." He urged, "Ever since I laid eyes on you, I wanted you to be mine." He spoke boldly. I turned to him with a serious expression, shocked by his words.

"Really?" I mumbled quietly. He nodded his head with a shy smile

An uncontrollable grin took over me, immediately noticing the change in energy. Calum seemed to be slowly resuming his usual self, only leaving me with one question. What now?

[lizzaneia-elizalde]

First off, love your writing, IT MAKES ME FEEL THINGS😭😭 but…

Can we please get more of yandre emo boy Ashton I JUST READ IT AND IM DROOLING SCREAMING CRYING GIGGLING AMD KICKING MY FEET😭🧎‍♀️🤪🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️

THANK YOU❤️❤️🤭🤭🤭

(If not that’s okay, ignore this bae🫶)

Yandere! Stereotypical! Emo and his beloved popular bitch

Ayo, thank you for the compliment! I'm glad my writings made you feel things (I don't know what though LMAO)

Actually, I'm not planning to follow up Ashton, but hey, at least it would break my writer's block (lol it's just laziness) so here ya go!

Sorry that it took days though 😔

FOR THIS ONE, I RECOMMEND READING THE FIC FIRST BEFORE THE DRABBLE (this one).

Read the yandere emo fic here!

💌Little Ashton was misunderstood a lot as a child. He never really liked the same things the other children liked, and he had this morbid curiosity with death and occult.

💌Of course, this undoubtedly scared his family, making him out to be some sort of psychopath.

💌This irked Ashton of course. He's just... That. He still loves his parents, and nothing would change that.

💌But the fact that they're so conservative that it's actually bringing Ashton down is what drove him over the edge to find a school far, far away from his family.

💌A small, quaint town, yet filled with teenagers. It was kind of a nightmare when Ashton found out, but he gritted his teeth and thought that maybe, with the current years, maybe they won't judge him. Maybe.

💌So, he indulged more in his Emo lifestyle. He religiously listened to green day, Panic! At the Disco, My Chemical Romance...

💌He even got into writing poems as a way to put out his feelings that he never got to tell other people.

💌 He's actually very sensitive with emotions and feelings. So technically, he should be a great friend candidate, right?

💌But once he got into the school year, that's when he knew, that his life would be living hell. Stereotypes left and right. Mean cheerleaders and jocks that ostracized his choice of clothing, snobby rich students that turn their noses on him just because he's not that rich, geeks and nerds that keeps getting in his way, thinking he's one of them.

💌"Fuck. Get me out of here. Nobody understands me."

💌He didn't realize himself, but he's also slowly being a stereotype. Always alone, writing poems, and being unnecessarily nihilistic.

💌Until of course, one day, you transfered. You, your pink rover, and your slutty little outfit.

💌God, just looking at you and your charming personality made Ashton hard fall for you.

💌He wants you. So bad.

💌So he dabbled back into the occults. He found an old book in an abandoned "witch's hut" that he went on a mad hunt for weeks. Apparently, the witch that lived there was a matchmaker witch, who gave love potions to those really desperate.

💌At first, Ashton didn't believe it. Especially that it involves sampaguita, a flower not native to his town. How did the witch even get the flowers?

💌But there he was, mixing and creating the potion under the moonlight and putting your hair and his in the pot. Creating a love potion that smelled like the sampaguitas he had to smuggle in.

💌He wrote you letters everyday, obsessing and hyper fixating on your allure and beauty. Confessing over and over again on paper that looks old and aged with writing that looks like it came from a fountain pen. With a spritz of the love potion, he would put it in your locker.

💌God, who knew that it would work?

💌Day by day, he watched you read the letters. At first, you were disgusted (much to his dismay) but slowly, you started to read the letters with a neutral face, then a smile, then with a squeal and then a desperate plea for him to come and fuck you already.

💌Maybe putting his... Semen on your love potion got you desperate for him carnally, rather than romantically.

💌But no fretting, he would just make you fall for him.

💌And as you moan and scream out his name as he pounds into your tight hole like the feral, fuck machine he is,

💌He was pleading to the moon to see his bleeding heart and bare soul to make you his.

💌And if the moon won't allow it,

💌Well, it's nothing more love potions won't do.

💌"my beloved, why don't you drink this sweet tea I made? Why is it pink and smells floral? It's a new tea from Japan. Sakura, from what I know. It's glowing? Nonsense, love. It's probably just the lighting."

💌"Now drink up, don't let a drop go to waste."

[tiredqueermushroom]

all of exu trio please?

Dorian

First Impression:

You're gonna be my favourite. There's more hidden underneath that classic bardic charm.

Impression Now:

Omg, he's just like me fr fr. An anxiety ridden master compartmentaliser, who is desperate for parental approval and desperate to strike out on his own. God I love him.

Favourite moment:

The entirety of episode 105 from summoning coriolis to his conversation with his father 10/10 no notes.

Honourable mention: His speech to dariax about real evil also "Kill your mother."

Idea for a story:

Just pure silken squall exploration. I want to know how dorian mastered his compartmentalision skill, more dorian childhood/lore please mister daymond!

Unpopular opinion:

A lot of people only like dorian because they ship him with orym and it's very obvious. So of the most egregious dorian takes come from these people, because they don't view him as an independent character but rather an extension of orym (disclaimer, I like do/my don't come at me.) Some of yall are weirdly racist about Dorian, especially when trying to 'defend' orym from rightful critism, it's kinda crazy.

Favourite relationship/s:

The exu trio! They keep each other grounded and sane. They also can see through each other's masks better than anyone else. Also, they shared a bed together what's not to love.

Favourite headcannon:

He's autistic! Also that hair is super important to squall culture, so dorian having his hair up and therefore shorter is his way of mourning cyrus.

Fearne

First impression:

I love this ditsy girl!

Impression Now:

Omg you are so much deeper than I gave you credit for. You hide your complex and real feelings behind a mask of smiles and giggles. Bet you related hard to when dorian said he finds strength in a smile, huh?

Favourite Moments:

It's a tie between the coin flip resurrection and the aftermath of watching ashton die. In both these moments, we get to see behind the mask fearne wears and get a peek at how much she is both terrified and angered by the idea of losing her friends, her family.

Idea for a story:

An in-depth exploration of her feelings of guilt about reviving orym instead of Laudna and how this interacts with her feelings of discomfort about being pressured about the shard. Specifically, her feelings around laudna and Imogen, saying they were disappointed in her during the truth trial.

Unpopular opinion:

Same issue I have with Dorian. A lot people don't care about how deep of a character can be with most of her bigger moments being overshadowed by other characters or not given the attention it needs. Some people only like her as the big-breasted ditsy thief.

Favourite relationship/s

Fearne & Orym! They both care about each other so much that they don't want to worry they other, so they lie/ tell half truths to each other. Orym would follow Fearne to the ends of the Exandria, and Fearne would carry him on her shoulders the whole way.

Favourite headcannon:

The coin actually landed on Laudna, but fearne could not and would not be able to stand the loss of her bestie, especially so soon after losing dorian. No matter what the coin said, she would have chosen orym, and the Fey are inherently selfish after all.

Orym

First impression:

Woah, slow down lil man you can only fit some much grief in your tiny body.

Impressions now:

My god I don't know how you can keep fitting all that grief and guilt in there!

Favourite moments:

Definitely, him crying at dorian, telling him he doesn't have to protect everyone. Orym had been carrying the weight of protecting everyone for so long, that he forgot that he's a person, not just a sword and shield to be thrown in front of people. Also, any time he's said he misses dorian because it sounds like an I love you. So much of how orym loves has been defined by longing and missing will, so naturally missing dorian is as easy as loving will. Bonus, him dancing in the rain with otohans sword and carrying that heavy weight with him was so cinematic.

Idea for a story:

Orym apologising to Dorian for his comment about cyrus during the post downfall talk. To recognise that he didn't trust that dorian would ultimately choose to save people despite his opinions on the gods. Especially after dorian revealed how heavily cyrus' death weighs on him as well as how important trust is to him.

Unpopular opinion:

While I acknowledge that orym has gotten some bad faith criticism in the past that doesn't mean all criticism he receives is unfair. Case in point, in some people's attempts at 'defending' orym after people were rightfully put off by his comment about cyrus. Some started using racist language towards Dorian and robbie, e.g robbie needing to watch his tone or that dorian needs to be 're-educated'. Which is especially crazy considering robbie is a native man. All that to say, orym is not above criticism and some of yall need to stop acting like it.

Favourite relationship/s:

Exu trio! Orym's need to protect fearne superseding his own safety is so juicy, he would die for his bestie. That man is so painfully in love with dorian that it makes him look stupid lol. The need to depend on someone vs the fear that the minute he let's his guard down everything will come crashing down. Both of them keep orym grounded, fearne reminding him how to let loose and dorian reminds him that he doesn't have to shoulder every responsibility by himself and that he can share his burdens.

Favourite Headcannon:

He has a tail and obviously he has PTSD. But the first night dorian was back was the first time he's slept well in a long time. The bed was perfect.