#but also having to dance with her purse on. the struggle of when you don't come with friends who can watch your shit lol

[guardian-angle22]

911 lone star fashion -> every grace outfit

↳ 1.01

[norrisjpg]

no surprises - ʟɴ⁴

based on this request from @jxnellat - thankyou lovely!!

in which, lando's bias opinion regarding the open red bull seat proves to stop a new friendship blossoming - until he proves himself wrong.

contains: unconscious bias, smallest bit of angst, shit-talking, carlos not to red bull (NOO), justice for logan because i give him an extra year in f2, mentions of christian horner (AH), social media, fluff, lando admitting he's wrong, mentions of struggles with mental health, williams not being shit.

platonic lando norris x named female character (senna hamilton)

...

...

carlos sainz jr's first choice was always going to be red bull. why wouldn't it be? the team was dominating the formula 1 world, and he was sure they wouldn't fuck him over like ferrari had many, many times.

but, tough luck for him.

before he could even think about getting into talks with christian and helmut - the world was rocked with the news of formula one's first female driver, moving to her dad's previous rival team.

senna hamilton might as well have broken the media. she was currently racing for williams alongside alex albon, but had no word from her superiors as to whether they were going to extend her contract with williams or whether there was any interest from mercedes.

so, she looked elsewhere.

and honestly, it came as a shock when her manager explained that christian horner wanted to arrange a meeting to discuss her seat for 2025 - due to sergio perez's less-than-admirable performance in the first half of the 2024 season.

either way, it was safe to say, that the hamilton family had given the world yet another reason to look forward to the 2025 season, and also given them all aneurysms in the process.

lando norris wasn't one for commenting on other driver's situations, but when it came to carlos sainz jr, he didn't hesistate as much as he usually would.

"so, lando, as we know you're good friends with carlos, and well, there's now one less team for him to go to - with senna going to red bull next year - can we just get your thoughts on that?" the blonde woman asked him, steadily holding the microphone out in front of him.

"well, obviously i think carlos deserves the best available seat possible, and that would have most likely been the red bull seat - so i think he should be in the red bull - but, i do think it will be interesting to see what senna can do in the red bull alongside max, but i'm just hoping that carlos can also get a good seat for next year." lando nodded, slightly stumbling over his words as his PR manager side-eyed him.

"okay, so you think that carlos deserves to be in the red bull?"

"yeah, i do - not that senna doesn't deserve the red bull seat, i'm sure she does, but i'm just going off how well i know each of them. obviously carlos and i have known each other since 2019, i've only known senna since 2022 and well, we don't really talk much." lando shrugged, pursing his lips.

"okay, thankyou lando." the woman nodded, before he and his PR manager headed back toward the mclaren hospitality.

his PR manager looked at the interviewer as the two walked away, she had a bad feeling about this.

meanwhile, the joyful tune of 'taste' by sabrina carpenter blasted out of senna's driver room in the mercedes garage, as the british girl bounced around her room, dancing to the song - when her PR manager, cameron, walked in.

"i've got some interesting news, sen."

...

well, as hard as lando tried not to give them that headline they so badly wanted - he somehow still did.

'senna doesn't deserve the red bull seat claims star formula 1 driver, lando norris.'

now, senna wasn't usually a confrontational person, but this was bang out of order, and she definitely didn't expect it from someone she didn't know that well. therefore, she requested a meeting with lando and his PR manager.

"so, would you like to explain this headline please?" senna asked as she slid a piece of paper over to him, the headline printed along with the article - she felt like she was interrogating someone in a james bond movie.

"what about it?" lando said gruffly, not entirely sure how to react to this situation.

"this is the equivalent of me saying you didn't deserve your win in miami, and then everyone agreeing with me, lando." she pursed her lips, earning a side-eye from her own manager.

"i don't really know what you want me to say?" the mclaren driver furrowed his eyebrows. "i never explicitly said that."

"i know, i watched the interview, but you might as well have." a soft scoff left her lips. "i don't actually care if you think i deserve the seat or not, i would just like you to undo this. i face enough prejudice and discrimination as it is, but i certainly didn't expect it from a fellow competitor, i'm disappointed quite frankly, lando."

her words hit like a tonne of fucking bricks - how could he be so fucking blind? lando thought that she'd asked for this meeting to have a go at him and tell him how wrong he was, but once again, he was wrong.

suddenly, he felt almost... sympathetic for her? yes, he also experienced a lot of hate online and he knew how much it affected his mental health - but if one of his competitors had said something like he had? he'd be a fucking wreck on the inside.

"oh, um, okay, yeah." he said, a little quieter as the realisations hit him. "yeah, i'm sorry, senna."

"i don't want an apology, lando." she shrugged, a small smile on her lips. "i just want this to go away."

...

INSTAGRAM

liked by georgerussell, charlesleclerc, maxverstappen33, and 421,294 others. sennahamilton ... strong weekend in belgium, another good haul of points with alex in P8 and myself in P7. time for a much needed break after a great first half of the season, see you all in zandvoort!!

view comments ...

alex_albon ... williams are washed who???

user1 ... double points!!!

user2 ... she better not get P7 in a red bull next year

↳ landonorris ... i'd like to see you try and finish a race?

↳ liked by sennahamilton

mercedesamgf1 ... things we love to see - roscoeee!!

user3 ... red bull are seriously desperate after the first half of the season, aren't they?

↳ sennahamilton ... why wouldn't you be desperate for me?

↳ liked by landonorris

landonorris has started following you!

sennahamilton has started following you!

...

"good morning miss hamilton." a recently familiar voice chimed in her ears, and then the unmistakable bright papaya hoodie appeared in her peripheral vision.

"good morning lando." she smiled, sounding a little tired of his recent apology antics.

"i have an urgent question for you." he said, falling into step with her as they walked past the haas hospitality.

"go on." she nodded, walking straight past the williams garage.

"would you be so kind as to accompany me back to monaco this evening after the race?"

"what?" she furrowed her eyebrows, stopping in her tracks.

"you live in monaco, correct?" lando stood in front of her, maybe a foot or so away from her.

"yes." senna nodded, wetting her lips briefly with her tongue.

"and i also live in monaco, i've got a few extra spaces on my jet, and was wondering if you'd like to join me." he explained. "it'd be me, you, max, daniel, charles, and carlos."

"ah, okay, i see." she nodded. "what's brought this on?"

"well, since we're friends now, i thought- well i don't really know i just wanted to know if you wanted to come with us or not."

"uhm... yeah, okay." senna knew she was a little unsure at this sudden gesture, but she went along with it regardless. "i'll let my dad know, but yeah, thanks."

"cool!" lando smiled, trying to sound as nonchalant about it as possible - he failed miserably. "uh, we're meeting at the airport at eight in the evening, and there'll be food on the plane."

"right, okay." she responded as they began to walk again. "not to sound fussy or anything, but the food... there won't be any fish, will there?"

"ew, of course not, i hate fish." he almost grimaced at the thought, but then his brain immediately clocked onto the fact that she sounded as equally as disgusted as him at the idea. "i'm assuming you don't like fish either?"

"i'd rather skin myself alive than eat fish, lando."

why hadn't he ever bothered to talk to her before?

...

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liked by landonorris, danielricciardo, maxverstappen33, and 513,482 others.

sennahamilton ... the whole point of this post is so i can show everyone how weirdly adorable lando and daniel are together - that's all.

view comments ...

landonorris ... i fly you home and you call me weird? last time bitch

↳ sennahamilton ... woah i also called you adorable so shut up

↳ user1 ... lando and senna are friends??

maxverstappen33 ... how come you always say no to me when i ask you to fly with me??

↳ sennahamilton ... i don't want to be friends with you :)

↳ landonorris ... this means you want to be friends with me??

danielricciardo ... i have no recollection of taking those photos

user4 ... i feel as if we might see a group-grid holiday this summer

liked by sennahamilton and carlossainz55

...

"miss hamilton!" lando exclaimed loudly as he skipped up to her in the quiet airport - making her cheeks grow pink in embarrassment.

"lando, shut up." senna groaned, internally praying people around her hadn't noticed that it was, in fact, her and lando.

"sorry, where is your positive attitude?" he teased, a sharp edge of sarcasm to his voice.

"in the plane." she mumbled, dragging her pink suitcase behind her as they walked toward their gate together.

"come on, sen, we're going to disneyland!" the brit cheered, making an amused smile creep onto senna's lips, mostly the mclaren driver's child-like excitement. "actually, i have something to admit to you."

"oh god, go ahead."

"i never thought you didn't deserve the red bull seat, sen." he shrugged, his tone changing but a smile still on his face. "and if anything, i knew you deserved it - maybe more than carlos."

she laughed with a small wink, "i won't tell him you said that."

,,,

ah i actually really enjoyed writing this!! the social media parts especially, so maybe i'll start doing more social media fics??

[theitgirlnetwork]

Earn It

Ch. 7: Heaven's Happiness

Note: As always, the love this story receives amazes me. Thank you so much for reading. Thank you for the notes, the reblogs, the comments and messages. Interacting makes this so much fun! I hope you all enjoy this chapter. There will be a lot more time skips from here on out! So you'll all get to know the gang as adults. I will ask that if anyone wants to use my story as inspo for one of your own, or anything else, you let me know, it's more fun that way. I also don't post this or any of my other stuff anywhere else. Once again, hi to my best friend who now reads this story, love you miss girl <3 Anywayyy, I hope you all enjoy! Thanks for reading <3

Taglist:@spookystitchery@anehkael@fkaams@butterflyybabe@sun2flower @holierthancunt @silkenthusiasts @wolflover384 @liziihorta @summerssover @jackierose902109

Warnings: Some strong language

“She’s very gifted, Mr. and Mrs. Whitlock. The best I’ve seen at this age in my career. You could have a professional dancer on your hands.”

The three adults watch from the observing window as Heaven demonstrates Grand Adage for a group of her peers. Her little back straight and stomach tight as she accomplishes the move with a stern discipline that many adults struggle to achieve. 

“We know. So why is she playing Clara?” 

“Beatrice-”

“I’m just wondering, Luca, I mean I just believe it’s our right as her parents to ask Madame Sidorov why our 9 year old daughter is teaching the snowflakes that are twice her age the dance she doesn’t get to be a part of.” 

Madame Sidorov swallows hard as she brings her clipboard to her chest. She’s been running her youth dance company for over 20 years. Many of her dancers have gone on to be successful, working artists. But she’d never seen talent like Heaven Whitlock. The girl came into her studio at the age of 6, excited to show her that she already knew how to go en pointe even though children really shouldn’t and normally couldn’t do it until they were 11. Madame Sidorov had been overcome with excitement. She had a star on her hands. 

The older woman also learned that Beatrice Whitlock also knew what she had. The teacher has dealt with gunner parents before, but none like the stern young woman who trailed in behind her prodigy daughter with her nose in the sky and demands on her tongue. 

“Mrs. Whitlock, Clara is the lead role in the Nutcracker-”

“Bullshit, Sidorov, we both know that the prima dancer role is the Sugar Plum Fairy and the arguably most complicated dance is the Waltz of the Snowflakes, the dance you had my daughter demonstrating yesterday. So,” Beatrice’s heels click as she shifts her weight from one leg to another, hip jutting out. “Why is your best dancer playing the dumb little girl who spends most of the ballet watching everyone else dance?”

“I think my wife is frustrated because we all know our daughter is talented. So we’re having a hard time understanding why those talents aren’t being showcased.” Luca cuts, wrapping an arm around his wife’s waist in an attempt to calm her. 

“Heaven is only 9. We need to allow the older dancers to play the more advanced roles-” 

“Then they should be better.” Beatrice interrupts, swinging her purse over her shoulder, pushing her shades up onto her head. “How about this, until your priorities are straight, we can take Heaven somewhere where things are fair and you can dust off your pointe shoes and start teaching again instead of using my child.”

“But, all of my friends go there.” Heaven whines as they speed their way down the highway for the hour drive back to their home. “I don’t want to find another studio.”

“I know, Stellina, but we want you to have every opportunity. Wouldn’t you want more chances to dance?”

Heaven is stubbornly silent in the backseat, her step father softly pats her foot, reaching back from the driver seat. Her mother turns to face her, a noncommittal look on her face. “Baby, when you came to Mommy a couple years ago, what did you say you wanted to be when you grew up?”

The younger girl bites her lip, tugging irritably at her seatbelt. “A ballerina.”

“Just a ballerina?”

Heaven huffs, crossing her arms over her chest, looking away from her mother. “The best ballerina ever.”

“The best ballerina. Ever. And Mommy and Papino have worked very hard to make that possible for you, yes? Practice everyday, paying for lessons, buying you everything you need. But you’re a big girl now. You’re going to have to learn how to work very hard too if you want to be the best, baby. We can only take you part of the way. You need to think super hard about whether this is what you want. You need to think about if you’re going to earn it.”

Beatrice’s voice is soft and kind, but her words are harsh. She turns around, not waiting for a response from her daughter, satisfied that her whines and complaints had quieted to obedient, stifled little sniffles. 

Heaven stares down at her hands through wet lashes, her bottom lip wobbling as she smothers her sadness. She does want it. She wants to be the best ballerina ever. She is going to be the best ballerina ever. And she’s grateful. Papino and Mommy had given a lot. And she won’t disappoint them. So she’d go to a new dance studio. She would make new friends. And if not, that wasn’t what she was there for. 

Luca Whitlock frowns as he drums his finger on the steering wheel, looking forward at the traffic ahead of them. “How about some ice cream, Stellina? Might cheer you up?” 

Identical sets of brown eyes meet in the rearview mirror. The little girl in the backseat simply sinks against the leather, forcing indifference into her voice. “No thank you, Papino, I’m…not hungry.”

“And you have your, um,” Heaven scratches her head, mentally scrolling through the list of items Tashi would need at home. She was going to spend the first few weeks post-knee surgery with her parents. Heaven had stayed with her girlfriend for the days following the injury, lying to her school and telling them she had a death in the family that required her to take some time away. She just wanted to get Tashi settled before she headed back to UCLA. 

The dancer had assumed that their boyfriend would emerge out of the shadows, and use his charm to weasel out of an apology, ultimately taking over Tashi’s care since he had the most free time.

Unfortunately, he continued to disappoint her. So, instead, she lingered. Slept in Tashi’s bed with her, unwrapped and rewrapped her knee. Cleaned her dorm, brought her any work she missed. The girls in the athletic dorm thought she’d moved in. But now, Tashi’s parents were here to take her home for a little while. 

“I have everything, Hev, you made sure of that.” 

Her heart aches. Tashi sounds so tired. So down. Heaven is so frustrated. She’s ready to move past this part. She wants Tashi to just be better. She tells herself over and over that the surgery would fix it. That once she got the treatment she needs and a little physical therapy, she’d be back to where she was, ready to take over the world with her. 

“I’ll see you when we open, right? You’re still gonna come?” Heaven rocks on her feet, careful not to bump Tashi’s crutch. “You don’t have to, you’ve seen me do most of the dances and I know it might be hard to travel-”

“Babe, I’ll be there. Okay? I need to go.” Tashi lifts Heaven’s chin, giving her a halfhearted peck before turning to climb into her dad’s truck, gesturing for Heaven to stop when she goes to try helping her into the high seated vehicle. “I’ll call you. Why don’t you have Art help you get your stuff from my room? He probably wants to say goodbye.”

“T, are we gonna talk more about that-”

“I told you,” Tashi shrugs, hand on the car door handle, her pajama pants poorly covering the large brace on her knee. “M’not mad. It’s fine.”

It’s not fine. Heaven isn’t stupid. Ever since Tashi and Patrick found out that she’d done…stuff with Art, Patrick has been radio silent, and all Tashi does is encourage Heaven to spend more time with Art who she was decidedly avoiding. She’d gotten…caught up in the infirmary. The combination of the heightened emotions and Art’s soft attention and care caused another moment of weakness. She’d accidentally said something that she’d been denying to herself ever since, and thanking the good lord above that Art had apparently missed. She was determined not to tempt fate for a…fourth time?

Which is why she’d gone back to Tashi’s room and started packing her stuff and straightening up without alerting the blond tennis player who’d been haunting her dreams as of late. And it’s also why she almost pissed herself when he’d somehow materialized in the dorm room doorway, rapping his knuckles against the light wood, in a failed attempt not to startle her.

“I didn’t mean to scare you, but, um, Tashi texted me and said you might need some help getting this stuff to your car.” 

He looks good. She can’t ignore that, but she can refuse to get caught up in staring at him as he leans in the doorway, muscled arms on full display as he leans in the frame, a poorly hidden pout on his face. 

“I’m good.” Heaven shrugs, slinging her bookbag over her shoulder, trying to lift her purse and her other two bags at the same time, only to have all of her belongings fall out of her purse. “Fuck.”

“Fuck, let me help you.” Art bends and starts grabbing the miscellaneous items from her bag.

“I can do it-”

“It’ll be quicker-”

“Art.” She huffs, tucking her hair behind her ears and sitting criss-crossed on the floor. “I meant it, when I said that I was done…Tashi might be trying to teach me a lesson in some kind of twisted way, and I’m sorry you’re getting mixed up in it, but I’m…I can’t be around you and be with her at the same time. Clearly, I can’t handle boundaries.”

“So…so what does that mean? Not talking at all? Is that what you want?” He asks, shoulders dropping, eyes filled with hurt as he inches closer. “Heaven-”

“Sure. If that’s what it takes for it to get you to get I can’t do” she gestures between them. “This, then fine, let’s say that’s what I want.” 

Art clenches his jaw, blinking quickly as he tries to think something he could say. Anything to change her mind. “Heaven, please, I’ll…we’d be friends. We can just, I can’t…please don’t.” he finishes, giving up on trying to articulate his thoughts through his panicked haze. Through all of this back and forth, chasing and running, he’d forgotten the chance that once Patrick was out of the picture, that he might get written out too. 

His eyes scan her face as she shakes her head, shoving the last of her stuff back into her purse and standing. “Art, it’s not like I don’t wanna be around you. But stuff is getting too complicated. This shit is just too much. I haven’t been back to my school in days, Tashi’s leg is fucked and I don’t want to make things any harder for her, Patrick is just fucking gone and I really can’t handle anything more. So when you say we can be friends, I need you to mean it. I need you to tell me we can do that.”

Art finds himself in between a rock and a hard place. He wants to be honest. He wants to acknowledge that he can’t see himself getting over her within the foreseeable future. He wants to tell her that he’s glad she’s probably not with Patrick anymore, and as bad as he feels about Tashi’s leg, he quite frankly does not understand why it has to change anything between them. 

But he’s desperate. Art is humiliated to admit it to himself but, he would do anything to keep the line of communication between him and Heaven open so if he had to appease her by saying that they would be platonic despite the fact that he quite literally gets dizzy standing next to her, fine. Like he’d told himself before, he was playing the long game, collecting the points that matter. So, offering her a tight smile, Art sticks his large hand out to her, encasing her smaller one and jumping to stand at his full height. “Friends. But, friends don’t ignore each other for days, Hev.” 

Heaven bites her lower lip, choosing to ignore the blue-brown eyes that drop to her mouth before looking back up at her and shaking his hand. “Okay. Yeah.” The pair slowly pull their hands apart, Heaven shivers as she feels the calluses on his palm slide across her hand. “As my friend, can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

“Is,” the girl rolls her eyes to the ceiling, releasing a heavy sigh. “Is she done? You saw it, and you obviously know more than me…is that something she can keep playing with her knee like that?”

He can’t bring himself to dash the hope she was clearly harboring on the behalf of Tashi but the girl’s recovery is…unlikely. Art tucks his hands in his pockets, tilting his head as he chooses his words carefully. “Tashi’s strong, and really fucking good, if anyone is going to recover from that kind of injury, it’s her.”

“So…no.” Heaven sits down on Tashi’s bed, staring forward at the wall that’s littered with pictures of some of the best tennis players in the world. A shaky breath leaves her as she stares at the professional posters, accompanied by the posters Adidas had made with Tashi on them. 

“You’re a really good girlfriend.” Art whispers.

“I cheated on her with you. I’m pretty much the worst girlfriend ever.”

“No, I mean, you’re really invested in her. In the thing she loves, like you care about tennis the same way we do, f-for her.” 

Heaven smiles softly to herself, grabbing Tashi’s pillow and hugging it to her body. “I fell in love with Tashi watching her play tennis. Just like everyone else does.” she jokes, poking Art’s leg with her toe. “When I’m watching her, it’s like I’m getting to witness something. It’s…corny but tennis is her calling. She goes to some other little world when she’s playing, and, even though I’m not a tennis player, she takes me with her. It’s this feeling of closeness that I can’t get anywhere else, you know?” Or at least, nowhere else I’m willing to talk about.

He does know. Art does know exactly what she’s talking about. He felt it. Once, when he and Patrick sat and watched Tashi play for the first time. It’s an all encompassing feeling. He was so caught up in watching her every move that he hadn’t looked anywhere but at Tashi. If he’d just looked three rows in front of him he’d have seen the girl in front of him now. 

The second time, the feeling was more intense, more of a sensation than a mere feeling. It was when he was sitting in an empty theater, watching Heaven dance, just for him. Art had never felt the things he’d felt before. He’d never had the thoughts he thought. He’d held his breath for the entire minute and 26 seconds that she gave him. He sat on the edge of the red, fabric auditorium seat, scared to blink and get left behind. He wanted to capture the feeling and keep it forever. And he has. He’s kept it. And everytime she gives him another taste, a smile, a kiss, a laugh, a touch, he goes back to being alone in the theater, experiencing euphoria for the very first time. 

If that’s the feeling Tashi gives Heaven, then he’s very jealous. And he wants it.

And that’s another new feeling the girls introduced him to. He’d never wanted something like her…or…uh them. 

Jealousy. Longing. Needing. 

Art knew exactly what Patrick was talking about when he said he liked seeing him fired up about something. Because, as much as he loves tennis, it didn’t make his blood boil. It didn’t make his stomach muscles clench with intensity. He didn’t feel that satisfying nervous burn. Not until…

Art needs to test a theory.

He scratches the back of his head, looking down at his sneakers before clearing his throat. “Uh, so, Hev, I’ve got a match this afternoon. And, I know things are weird right now, so you might think I’m a dick for even asking-”

“Arthur.”

“Come watch me play.” He blurts. Heaven’s eyes widen and he finds himself taking a tentative step forward as if he was trying to soothe a spooked horse. “I don’t know, I just figured…I mean, you might miss watching someone play, with Tashi taking a break and Patrick being…himself.” When Heaven continues to look unsure, Art puts himself out there again, trying to entice her the way he knows how. He moves to stand in front of where she’s seated on the bed, crouching to be just below her level. “When I win it will be for you. I’d like you to be there.” Art carefully tucks a piece of her hair behind her ear, before grabbing her chin between his thumb and index finger, moving her face around playfully. “As a friend.”

As a friend. That’s exactly what Heaven repeats to herself, over and over when she carries her bags over to the tennis courts, placing one foot onto the metal bleacher and opting to sit in the seats down on the front to rows. Just so she can see better. And it’ll be easier to slip out before the match is over. Besides, she couldn’t bring herself to sit with the women’s tennis players towards the top. All she could think of when she saw them was that it should have been one of their legs cracking instead of Tashi’s and it didn’t exactly make her feel like a great person. 

She slips into the seat and crosses her legs, struggling as she pushes her overnight bag under the low seat.

“Hey, let me help you.” A blonde girl crouches beside her, pushing along with Heaven and getting the back underneath. 

“Oh,” Heaven offers her a bright smile. “Thanks, I have to head back to my school after this so I have all my shit with me, didn’t think I was gonna come.”

“No problem,” the girl chirps, plopping down into the seat next to Heaven. “Sara. Myles’ girlfriend, he’s playing after this first match. Whose girlfriend are you?”

Tashi’s name is on the tip of her tongue. She swears it is. But the girl is clearly talking about the players that were starting to filter in, with their red shirts that Heaven could see fitting Art perfectly from her seat. His blond curls flopping as his head moves side to side, she knows he’s looking for her. Heaven gives a soft wave to catch his attention and can’t help but match his smile when he spots her, waving back. “I’m not dating a player.”

“Well these are girlfriend seats, so don’t let anyone else hear you say that.” Sara says lightly, pulling her shades down over her eyes. 

Heaven turns to look at her, tearing her eyes away from Art stretching. “What the hell are girlfriend seats?”

“They’re seats…where girlfriends sit?” The girl sits up to get a pixelated picture of her boyfriend on her razor. “You know, the players’ girls sit, so they can see them. No wonder I don’t recognize you, you’re a plant.”

“I’m Heaven, I don’t go here, I’m just watching my friend before I go back to UCLA.” 

“Oh, shit,” Sara’s eyes widen in realization. “You’re Donaldson’s girl right? Myles’ cousin Kyle, trust me I know the names kill me too, but he was saying how Donaldson brought his hot girlfriend out with them the other night and was dick trying to show off for her.” 

“Again, we’re friends, m’not his girl.”

“Hey, Hev!” Sara ducks her head, watching out of her peripheral as Art jogs over, racket in hand, pushing up onto the fence so he could be eye level with Heaven. “Match is about to start, kiss for good luck?” He grins, holding his racket handle out to her. He playfully pouts until she gives in, leaning forward and pressing her glossed lips to the handle, looking at Art through her lashes. The blond wets his bottom lip and pulls the racket back. “Eyes on me, okay?” 

“Whatever, just remember you promised me a win.” Heaven giggles, crossing her arms as she settles back into her seat. Art beams even wider, hopping down off of the fence and jogging backwards back to where the players sit. “And spit out your gum!”

Faintly, she could hear Art’s teammates reprimanding him for ‘making the rest of them look bad’ and she smiles to herself, bringing a hand up to play with her name chain.

“Girl.” Sara snorts.

“Just friends.”

“Yeah sure.” the blonde girl shrugs, pushing her shades back down. “Don’t tell me, tell Donaldson.”

Art delivers a win, as promised. It wasn’t hard, really. One thing Patrick had gotten right was that college kids weren’t really much competition. And maybe he had some very good motivation sitting out in the crowd with her eyes locked on him. So he showed off a little, served a little harder, made the other guy run a little bit more than necessary. He could always explain that away as wanting to impress his coach and any possible reps looking to endorse him. And sure, he might’ve looked over at her for each point he wrenched out of the poor guy from Temple’s hands but…well he didn’t have an excuse for that other than it gave him a rush knowing that she is sitting pretty, legs crossed, perched with the other girlfriends, watching him, rooting for him, breathing heavy for him. 

When matchpoint is declared his, Art smiles cockily, strolling up to the net and shaking hands with his opponent before making his way over to Heaven again, this time climbing completely over the fence, leaving behind his tennis bag on the opposite side of the court. This time she stands, catching him a little as he lands in the small space in front of her and the fence. “Well?” he pants, lifting his hat to adjust his hair before placing it back on his head. 

“Well, what? You want me to say congratulations?” Heaven grins, sweeping some sweat that dripped from his forehead off of his cheek. “Congratulations, Arthur.” she hums.

“Thank you.”

“Mhm.”

“Yeah,” Sarah calls from her seat, smiling smugly up at the pair. “Good job, Donaldson. Why don’t you try to pass some of that mojo to Myles, huh? Getting kinda tired of coming out to these things just to watch you play.”

“I’ve got a lucky charm, that’s all.” Art nudges Heaven, wrapping an arm around her waist so she doesn’t stumble too far away from him.

“Yeah, so, lucky, or the other guy sucks and Art is good-”

“No, I think you’re my lucky charm, don’t try to ruin it-” Art laughs, taking his hat off again, his messy blond hair falling all over as he places it on Heaven’s head, holding her to him as she squirms.

“Ew, Arthur, it's sweaty!”

“It’s the fruit of my labor, Hev, that win was for you!”

Sarah scoffs, shaking her head as she watches the pair, leaning away to avoid getting hit when Art lifts Heaven, swinging her to the opposite side of him to help her get to the steps before grabbing her bags. As she sees him guide her by her waist down the bleachers, both of them cheesing as they chat as if no one else was there and she realizes that Art is leaving the courts before his fellow teammates play, Sarah commends her own instincts.

And then she makes a note to herself to start saving the returning girlfriend seat next to hers for Heaven. The other girls were sort’ve bitches, anyway.

“So, I should head back.” Heaven leans back against the driver door of her car, clasping her hands together behind her. “But, this got my mind off of things for a little, so thank you.”

“It’s what friends are for.” Art laughs, stepping in front of her, hand behind his neck.

“Pft, you’re such a dick. Aren’t you supposed to be the nice one?”

“I am nice.” he smiles, rocking on his feet, feeling his chest tighten as Heaven bites her rose petal bottom lip again. His eyes soften as he stares down at her delicate features and thinks about how right things feel when they’re together. How he hasn’t felt this good in…ever. “So nice, I’m not gonna say what I want to say. I’m just gonna say,” he takes her hand gently, toying with her fingers, pushing her thumb with his own, “goodnight.”

Heaven’s lips part, and looking up into his eyes, how kindly he looks down at her. What she can see in them almost does it. She almost got lost, just like that. But a buzz in her jacket pocket has her grabbing her phone and the message has her taking a small step backward and placing her hand on her door handle. “Goodbye, Art.”

“One two three, one two three, and Peter please keep up with Heaven, Heaven a little less hatred on your face, thank you, two three and up, I want her in the air-” Madame Fontaine claps her hands to the pace of the movements she wants from her two leads, following them as they move across the floor. Heaven holds her breath as she’s lifted into the air for two counts before she’s slid down Peter’s body, draping herself across him romantically as he kneels to accommodate her. “Yes, that is exactly it. Now kiss.”

Heaven feels herself wince, squeezing her eyes shut as she feels Peter’s lips press against hers.

“Still doesn’t look good, Madame.” Fallon calls from her seat. 

“No, no it doesn’t, does it? You two, what’s the issue, tu veux m'humilier et me faire me suicider ou quoi?”

“No, Madame,” Heaven huffs, swatting Peter’s hand away from her waist. “We don’t want to humiliate you or make you kill yourself, I don’t understand why we have to do the version with the kiss, there are plenty of variations without it-”

“You understood her?” Peter squints at the girl next to him before huffing, “Fine, whatever, MacMillan intended for there to be passion between Romeo and Juliet, and you curl your lip up everytime I kiss you.”

“I don’t like doing it.” Heaven shrugs. “I’m a professional dancer, not a porn star, and I’m playing a 15 year old girl, I don’t know why any sane, adult audience would want to watch me lay on top and kiss a grown man and then kill myself to be with him-”

“We open tonight. We are doing the ballet as we rehearsed, you two will kiss and you will tolerate it. Practice if you must, pretend he’s someone else, take a shot before you do it, I don’t care.”

“Madame, we’re 19.”

“Oh please.” The older woman storms off, her assistant behind her and the two dancers are left side by side. 

“So…should we practice?”

“Absolutely fucking not, thank you very much.” Heaven pushes past Peter, snatching her dance bag from the floor. “You’re gonna practice until your knees bleed for the next hour and then you’re gonna soak in the athletic building so you’re actually ready for tonight and I’m gonna go…I don’t know, pray.” 

As Heaven storms away, dramatically slamming the theater door behind her, she can recognize she was in a bitchy mood. She felt like she had a lot of shit to be annoyed about and was frankly pissed to feel her world collapsing around her on the first night of her first college role in which she’s the fucking prima. 

First, she once again demonstrated to herself that she has absolutely no fucking self control when it comes to Art Donaldson, a truth that she’s learned about herself that really agitates her. She discovered this as she struggled into the routine of only responding to the blond every couple of days and found herself sitting up in the privacy of her own dorm, reading and rereading every message she sent, the bright light of her phone shining brightly on her shame.

Second, she still hadn’t heard from her boyfriend (ex?), Patrick. She’d watched a couple of his matches while she was on the treadmill at the gym and as he does, he wins the first two rounds only to lose in the third. He found time to get lazy in his tennis playing but failed to pick up his goddamn phone and call either of his girlfriends.

Which leads to the third thing haunting her. Tashi is fucking irritable as shit. Apparently, surgery does not agree with her, because Tashi had been crabby for the last few days. It started with the day of Art’s match when she’d sent her perfectly timed message. 'Did he win?' It was like she was taunting her. Like Tashi knew Heaven couldn't stay away. It pisses Heaven off even more that she was right. Then Tashi had moved on to venting about how Patrick was absolutely wasting his talent, how the fact that he’s not winning pisses her off even more now that she can’t play. How she’s going pro as soon as she gets the chance because if this injury told her anything, it was that there was no time to wait. How now that she’s got time on her hands, she’s been thinking more about her plan for her life and Heaven’s.

And lastly, the real kicker, what had Heaven gritting her teeth as she did bar warmups this morning, was that fucking phone call. The one from her mother that she received at 5:00am when she was stretching. The one where her mother said she wouldn’t be able to make it to her first night of her first ballet in college in which she’s the fucking prima. And when she expressed her disappointment, Beatrice responded ‘It’s just a school ballet, I’ll come to your first professional one.’ 

So, yep, she was in a shitty fucking mood. 

But she wouldn’t let all of that stop her debut as an adult dancer. She was going to be a pro, she was going to do it her way, even if the 5 seats she had reserved in the front row were empty. 

So, she sits at the vanity backstage, putting her hair into Juliet’s first hairstyle. She listens to music that reminds her of when she was 15 to get into the right headspace as she puts blush on her cheeks. She offers Peter a soft smile when she sees him in his costume and forces herself to try to look at him the right way. Because the things that are pissing her off don’t matter right now. Right now, all there is is Juliet.

It doesn’t matter if Heaven’s smile is fake as the lights shine down on her when she first prances her way onto the stage. Juliet’s smile is real. It’s meaningless if Heaven’s tears are real when she squints and sees that her mother’s seat is indeed empty, her stepfather attempting to send her a thumbs up to distract from the woman’s absence. And so what, if Heaven can’t go to her happy place as she solos because she sees both Patrick and Tashi’s seats are empty as well. As long as she can still breezily get through her motions, as long as it looks beautiful for the crowd, it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t fucking matter.

And it definitely doesn’t matter, that as she came out of her fake balcony in her sleep gown to blow everyone’s minds with the most loving, fucking passionate pas de deux they’d ever seen, she accidentally caught eyes with Art in the audience, staring up at her intensely. 

So she doesn’t have to feel guilty that when she kissed Peter, she envisioned him with curly blond hair and heterochromatic eyes. Or the fact that Madame Fontaine told her when she stepped off stage to change into her next costume that it was the most romantic, realistic kiss she’d ever seen.

Does Art know he's stupid? Absolutely. He's never dared call himself intelligent. He didn't need the little voice that sounds like Patrick calling him pussywhipped. He knows. But, he still found himself on the highway, traveling at a breakneck speed, eyeing the bouquet of flowers that he has placed in the seat.

He'd known Heaven was serious about this whole friend thing. She's so good, and kind. And she cares so much about Tashi and Patrick. But Art knows he can treat her better. He's sure of it. Despite what he knows to be true, Art refuses to pressure her...anymore. He'd just rely on the fact that if they were supposed to be together like he believed they should be, they would be. Eventually. Soon. Hopefully.

So he came fully ready to play the dutiful friend. He was gonna stand politely by as Heaven leapt into Patrick's arms after the show. Art was gonna smile politely as she and Tashi shared kisses and exchanged giggles as they talked about inside jokes that they only understood. But then he got there. He'd been directed to the front where the two premier dancers families were arranged to sit and found three empty seats separating him from a man with peppered hair and smart looking glasses who had his own bouquet of flowers across his lap and a Chanel gift bag next to his feet. As he inches into his seat the man looks at him with a smile.

"You must be Patrick. I'm Heaven's stepfather, Luca Whitlock, I'm sorry I missed you at her birthday." The older man holds his hand out to Art with a kind smile. "Nice to meet you."

Art offers him his own awkward grin, accepting the tight squeeze of the man's hand. "Uh, no, I'm Heaven's friend, Art. It's really nice to meet you Mr. Whitlock."

"You as well." The man lifts his wrist to check his watch. "Show is meant to start in a few minutes, hopefully he will be here shortly. Stellina won't like for her boyfriend to be late.

Art shifts uncomfortably again, checking his phone. Patrick had reached out to him a couple days after Tashi's injuries. Mostly to make insults thinly veiled as jokes, clearly still pissed that he yelled at him. Art responded with short, one worded messages.

It's the least they'd ever spoken since they'd met.

The guilt he feels for his part in this fight they were having is very real. But it was currently heavily outweighed by his annoyance at the fact that his friend was seemingly punishing Heaven by not showing up for her big night. He knew Patrick didn't deserve her, and he was only proving his point.

"Is Tashi with Mrs. Whitlock or..."

"Oh, my, my wife couldn't make it. And Tashi is still...healing. Her mother called right before I was supposed to pick her up."

Oh. "Oh."

As much as he's glad he could be here for Heaven, he knows that Tashi and her mother being there would mean more. His heart aches for her as he settles back into his seat and the lights dim. The pain he feels for her only intensifies when he sees her step out onto the stage. She's beautiful. The perfect Juliet. If anyone would make a man fall in love within a few glances, ready to die at the thought of not being with her, Heaven would be it.

Her eyes are sad as she eyes the empty seats, using them as a tragic point of focus as she completes her expert turns. Behind him he could hear people whispering about how gorgeous the girl playing Juliet was, how talented she is. All Art can think is that they have no idea. They don't know how she's managing to be so elegant, so beautiful, so perfect, even as she's in the type of pain she's in.

Art would do anything to bring the light back into her eyes so they would shine the way the rest of her was.

He loves her.

He knows it. He feels it as her eyes finally make their way to his seat and her smile is a little more real. A little bit of light slips back into her eyes. She dances even more beautifully, more genuinely than before. And his mind is filled with the same thought.

Yes baby, that's right. Eyes on me. I'll make it better. I'll make you happy.

And he means it. Friends or not. Lovers or not.

It's on Heaven's first night of her first ballet in college where she's the fucking prima ballerina that Art makes a vow to himself.

He was gonna dedicate himself to Heaven Whitlock's happiness. No matter what that meant.

3 Years Later (California)(Age: 22):

Tashi shakes her head to herself as she watches Art pace in the kitchen. She brings her coffee to her lips, blowing at the smoke slowly as she observes him from the couch, taking a small sip before setting the mug loudly on the glass coffee table. She rolls her eyes when he doesn’t stop his steadily paced steps across the floor.  “You good?”

The blond finally pauses to look at her, jaw clenching and unclenching before he opens his mouth to speak. “This is just different, you know?”

“How? It’s still tennis.” 

“It’s pros, Tashi, I’m just nervous.” Art says, running his hand through his blond curls. “These guys are good.”

“You’re fucking good.” She asserts, crossing her arms. “Look, I can’t make you believe in yourself. If you can’t do this, please, let me know now, because I need to know if you’re not going to make this happen. We have a deal.” 

Art sighs, planting his hands down on the counter, staring down at the scattered marble with a frown as he tries to get out of his head. Suddenly, he feels a hand slide across his back and an envelope lands on the counter between his hands, into his line of sight.

“Something for you to consider while you decide if you’re gonna fuckin’ play like I know you can.”

With that, Tashi storms out, heels clicking on the hotel room floor and the door beeping as it slams shut behind her. Art stares down at the envelope, reading and rereading the name of the sender.His heart both clenches and races as he thinks about what the 4 little words on the small, insignificant piece of paper could mean for him. How those 4 words and whatever they’re hiding behind them will ruin his life. 

The Paris Opera Ballet

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Malleus, Deuce: Like Mother, Like Son

BRO'S STILL MAKING THE "ARE YOU LOST BBY GHORL" FACE … Malleus’s birthday hits different knowing what I know now 💀 ALSO THE FACT THAT DEUCE SAID "THAT" ABOUT MALEFICENT VS THE HUMANS IS... (trying to keep this wording vague so as to not spoil people who haven’t gotten there yet)

It’s nice to see Malleus and Deuce in the vignettes, I feel like they don’t get to interact that much (which is a shame because I think their dynamic is cute). They had a chapter together in the manga anthology too! I’m glad they could hang out some more.

A Tale as Old as Time.

The princess and her prince were picture perfect in the painting.

The woman, with golden curls that tumbled down her back. Her cerulean gown spilled to the polished floors like a fabric waterfall, the tiara in her hair catching the soft evening light. She gazed up at her lover's warm, twinkling eyes, and smiled.

The man, brunette, locks falling loosely across his forehead. He was handsome in a red tunic with a high black collar, a crimson cape billowing out behind him with each step he took. His gaze was locked with the princess's, his one and only.

Onlookers gathered in a ring around the two, spellbound by how they danced, bodies twinning like threads bound together. It was something precious they dared not disturb, even their breaths clutched like pearls to prevent their escape.

This was happily ever after, a dream come true.

It should have been.

Yet Malleus frowned. His brows drew together and his mouth pursed, a brewing storm settling over his face.

“Draconia-senpai?” Deuce called to him anxiously. “I-Is something wrong? You look a little scary…”

The first year glanced at the portrait of the royal couple. He jumped. “D-Don’t tell me, did this painting piss you off?! Er, I mean... Did it offend you?"

“No, nothing of the sort,” Malleus replied. He rested an index finger against his chin. “It sparked memories of my own days in court. As the crown prince to the Briar Valley, it goes without saying that I've attended a number of occasions similar to what is depicted here."

"Oh, for real? That makes sense, you being royalty and all. What were those events like?"

"Most are rather solemn affairs. Grandmother, the senators, and other politicians gather to discuss diplomacy, trade, and national policies. For certain occasions, there are traditional rituals that must first be performed. A royal birth, for example, must be blessed before the festivities can commence. If it is a knighting, then all the royal guard shall be present and a speech of one's accomplishments read."

Deuce blinked a few times, as though shedding sleepiness. His mind struggled to grasp the enormity of a prince's duties. He dropped the smartest sounding response he could: "That sounds tough."

Malleus lips slightly lifted. "I do not mind it. There is pride to be had in conducting such work."

I don't have a reason to doubt what he's saying, but... Deuce clenched his fists at his sides. If Draconia-senpai really feels that way, why does he still seem so pained?

The fairy drew out a sigh, as if dissatisfied with the silence. "... Ah, but how strange. When I look upon this painting, I see many people present... yet the princess touched by diurnal fae and her prince take no notice of them. They have eyes only for each other."

His words were velvet-lined, soft on the ears. Beneath them, a pang of longing rose like a fine mist at daybreak.

"What must it feel like to be so beloved?" Malleus wondered. "To have someone who considers you the most special being in all the world?"

Vines twisted in his gut, thorns prickling his insides. Frustration and molten discontent pooled. For all the power that he wielded, he failed to attain such a basic thing.

Love.

"Do you understand such a feeling, Spade?" The inquiry was pure acid.

"H-Huh, me?!" Deuce startled, not prepared for the demand in Malleus's voice. "Well... uh, I guess my mom calls me her big, strong man. Does that count?"

Malleus's brow furrowed. "I'm afraid I don't follow. Is it customary for children of man to refer to their offspring as 'big, strong men'?"

"I think that's just my mom's thing." He shrugged. "I'm the only man in the house, so I try to help her out if I can. She jokes about it when I do."

Malleus made a face. It was difficult to discern the emotion he wore.

"Moms, right?" Deuce gave a nervous laugh. "They can be embarrassing, but they care about us a lot."

"I never knew my mother."

"... Oh." A rock dropped in Deuce's stomach. He hurried for an apology as dread rippled through him. "Shit, my bad! I didn't mean to..."

Malleus held up a hand in an elegant dismissal. "Be at ease. I harbor no anger."

There was no point, he told himself, in rage expressed for a woman he had no bond with. Her face, her voice--they were all a mystery to him. She was but a stranger adrift in an abyss.

Still, a part of him sparked at the thought of her, of someone he had yet to meet--would never meet. The thrill of fates closely intertwined, the tenderness of a parent's love.

Malleus went quiet, lowering his hand.

"Grandmother and Lilia have done their utmost to mentor me in her stead." He sounded hollow, insistent. Like he was trying to convince himself as much as he was Deuce.

The Heartslabyul student swallowed. He placed a firm hand on Malleus's arm and squeezed. "... It's not enough, is it?"

He received no answer.

“Your mom is thinking of you, wherever she is.”

Malleus pulled away, presenting his back to Deuce. "Dead fae do not tell tales," he said simply.

“That doesn’t mean she loved you any less,” Deuce stubbornly protested. “Right up until her last breath… she must have been so happy to have you, thinking about what kind of person you’d grow up to be.”

Dreaming of the day when she can, at last, meet you.

Blink, and his eyes were wet. Blink again, and his vision blurred. Heartbeat hot and quick, galloping upon coals.

Did my mother truly…?

“She’d be damn proud of you too.” Deuce flashed a wicked grin. “Believe me.”

“… Hah.” Malleus chuckled dryly.

The longer he considered it, the more appealing the idea became.

A woman in his likeness—or was he made in hers? Papery kisses, fond embraces, words of affirmation. Fire that burned strongly, warding off the darkness.

Wouldn’t that be something?

"I love you, Malleus," whispered that she-phantom. Sweet nothings that sated his starved soul. "Forever and always. My dear son, my pride and joy."

The carefully constructed stone fortress around his heart faltered. His desire burned like a falling star.

He took a breath, and fell from the heavens with his wish.

“Thank you, Spade.”

Just for this moment, let me walk once upon a dream.

A single tear slipped down Malleus’s cheek.

And what a wonderful dream it was.

[linomilkers]

Note: Hiiiii. Let me know if you want a second part to this! And let me know what you think, or what you'd like to see more of, etc. This is my second post on here so I'm moldable right now haha

Summary: Y/N has an oral fixation. Minho thinks it's cute.

When Minho first met Y/N, she had a lollipop in her mouth.

It was a party; the room a haze of smoke that made his lungs feel thick and murky while his skin felt sticky from the humid air in the house. His cup was halfway full of cheap, lukewarm beer that he was struggling to choke down but needed to if he was going to make it through the rest of the night (post mid-term parties were not something you wanted to experience sober at any capacity). He remembered he was searching for Chan, who had managed to disappear on entry, usually pulled this way and that by just about everyone (because he was personable and friendly and sweet, so why wouldn't he be).

Minho didn't necessarily want to be near him for the attention aspect. He liked to be around Chan at parties because he could sit with him and his group of friends (some of them mutual, some of them Minho only sees at functions like this so he's almost certain they don't exist outside the walls of a frat house) and zone out. He was surrounded by people he trusted, could tune in and out of the conversation, but was free to just listen and observe and enjoy himself without being the weird, silent guy in the corner.

He does find Chan, and with him Felix, who was talking animatedly to a girl with a stick hanging out of her mouth. At first Minho thinks it's a cigarette and prepares to wrinkle his nose at the smell of it, but when she grabs the end of it and pulls it out, his theory is disproven. A small, rounded ball of candy sits at the end, glossy from her tongue and at the point where she could crunch the rest of it with her teeth. It's what he thinks she's about to do, until she just tucks it back into her mouth.

It's funny now, because when he looks back on it, he didn't really care what she was doing or who she was really. Felix introduces them because they never met, and she smiles and greets him, and all Minho knows about this Y/N is that she likes lollipops. He probably would have been content to ignore her the rest of the night but the only free spot was right at her side and she twisted her body in the chair to look at him.

"You're Minho with the cats right?" She inquired and he blinked at her a few times, confused -- who had told her about his cats? He'd nodded his head wordlessly but it didn't seem to disturb her, a big smile pulls at her cheeks, "Can I see pictures? Felix says they're really cute."

By the end of the night, Minho knew a few things about Y/N: that she likes cats, she volunteers at a shelter the exact opposite days that he does, that her midterms had her inexplicably stressed and would continue to do so until she knew her grades. . .and that she liked lollipops. She had a few in her purse, she even offered him one, and when he politely declined he watched as she unwrapped a mango flavored one and plopped it back on the bed of her tongue. When Felix wanted the taste of vodka out of his mouth, he sought her out for a piece of candy as well which she merely handed him her bag and let him sift through it -- so he also learned she was either too trusting or just a close friend Minho hadn't remembered hearing about.

He didn't suspect their friendship would go further than that, but he starts to see her everywhere. On campus, at parties, in cafes, at the adoption center when a few of his hours get switched around to accommodate his dance lessons. Y/N always smiles at him, big and bright, like they were the best of friends even though Minho kind of clams up when he's talking to her by himself at first. Sometimes she had her mouth preoccupied, sometimes she didn't, whether it be with candy, gum, nibbling at the end of a straw from a drink she's long finished.

From their conversations, he'd been able to correlate the times that she's usually swirling her tongue around something, is around times she would be stressed. With assignments coming up, essays, exams -- anything that could be deemed worrisome or stressful, she usually had something to play with in her mouth. That's when he finally connects the dots, digging through his brain for old psych lessons from his freshman year.

Y/N has somewhat of an oral fixation; it must help alleviate stress in someway for her, to have her mouth focused on something. He doesn't bring it up to her, because it's none of his business, but he does wonder if she knew. If she even realized it or if it was as unconscious of a habit as his professor back then had made it seem.

They get closer in the months following. Close enough that Minho felt comfortable inviting her over to his parents house to finally meet Soonie, Doongie, and Dori (when his parents weren't home, of course, he didn't want them to get the wrong idea bout her visit). Close enough that they would watch movies together on Fridays where neither of them were doing anything, sometimes in a group with a few others, sometimes only with each other. Close enough that they share the same blanket during these movie nights, warm beneath the sherpa and their legs often times touching on the couch. Close enough that jokes and laughter come easy, that he could tell her about his bad day and not feel like he was being annoying, that she could fall asleep beside him and feel absolutely safe.

And close enough, that when she is reaching for another lollipop out of her bag, Minho clicks his tongue at her disapprovingly and lays his fingers against her mouth instead.

He doesn't know what possessed him to do it -- he thinks, he's probably been thinking about it for a while now. Wondered if the same relief came to her as long as her mouth was preoccupied with anything. He thought he could test it, just like this, but he'd never thought he would actually do it. It almost had felt like his hand had moved on its own accord rather than consulting him first.

Y/N stared at him, blinking, confused, and Minho swallows thickly and clears his throat, "You'll rot your teeth with all the candy." He phrases it like he's scolding her -- his tone would sure suggest he was. This was her out, if she wanted it, she could furrow her brows and call him an ass and swat his hand away. Then it was just Minho being a jerk and they would laugh about it later.

But she doesn't. Instead of playing it off as a funny joke, Y/N splits her lips open and waits patiently, before Minho sinks his index and middle finger into her mouth. Neither of them are laughing.

It's warm, and wet, and soft. It takes her a moment to adjust to the intrusion in her mouth as he keeps his fingers still, allowing her to lick over them, suck them in deeper before letting them rest on the bed of her tongue. She gives an experimental suckle, sighs through her nose, then turned her head back to the movie playing. Y/N adjusts so that he isn't stretching his arm very far, scooting closer to him and resting her head on his shoulder.

They stay like this, neither of them say anything, and Minho tried to control his breathing, keeping it even and measured. He wondered if this was good for her -- if it made her feel good, to have her mouth filled with something that doesn't wither away the longer it was in there. Y/N had been worried over a meeting tomorrow with her professor, to go over a thesis that she'd spent weeks agonizing over. Had Minho been able to help like this? Was she still thinking about it? Or was she thinking about the weight of his fingers in her mouth instead? The pressure of them on her tongue.

After the movie, Y/N pulls her head back and Minho allows his fingers to slip from her mouth. A little bit of saliva follows him, and in a potentially overly affectionate way, he swipes it away from her chin with his thumb. Then he dries his fingers off on the blanket, Y/N looked over to him, and she smiled that kind of smile that makes his heart feel too fond.

"Thank you," she murmured, "Should we go painting tomorrow? Hyunjin is getting a little dramatic about us not coming to the studio when he invites us."

Minho wondered if they would ever do it again, after the first time, but he doesn't have to wonder for long. If he sees her digging around in her purse for gum or a candy, he offers his fingers and she takes them instead. Not in public, of course, but when they were alone, in the safety of his living room or hers. Then, after a while, she didn't really have to dig around in her purse for him to offer it -- she'd give him a look and he'd raise his brows, before holding his fingers up. She'll nod, part her lips, and they find their spot between them again.

At first it wasn't in any way sexual and Minho has to drag his mind out of the gutter every time his brain tries to twist it into something. Like when she absently sucks or licks at the foreign object in her mouth, as if her tongue might have just remembered he was in there and wanted to explore it further. He would readjust himself, inconspicuously as he could, and count backward from 40 until he got himself together. Especially the times he's accidentally pressed them too deep in her mouth and she gags around them; he would offer an apology and Y/N would merely nod before settling again.

He doesn't know so much if it's the way his fingers feel in her mouth so much as its how she looks. All glassy eyed and dazed, her lips slick with spit and swollen. The urge to nip and bite at her bottom lip had become more pertinent in the last few weeks - it made him wonder if kissing would satisfy her the same way this does. If he offered his mouth to her instead of his fingers, would she take it? He could imagine it, and how soft her lips would feel on his own. He could picture the way her tongue would slide into his mouth, curl around his own, those dreamy sighs leaving her the same way they do now.

If he was going to outline the progression of events, he would think that first they might kiss, and then he might introduce his cock into the equation if she was interested. But they skip a step, between the fingers and her nosing at the bulge in his sweats. He wasn't expecting it when it happened -- mostly because their friends had just left, and Y/N was staying behind to help him clean up the disarray his apartment had been left in. Only before they could actually get up and start moving, Y/N flopped her head in his lap wordlessly, and he gave a dramatic sigh, "Enough with this," he said, despite already carding his fingers through her hair, "I played with your hair the whole time, you should be giving me something in return at this point."

Minho had meant a massage maybe (she was good at digging her thumbs into the knots between his shoulders), but Y/N furrowed her brows at him. Pouted her lips, grumbled something, and then she's turning her face into his crotch. He gasps because why wouldn't he? It was sudden, and all at once he feels the mouth he's been daydreaming about for about a month or two now just centimeters away from his dick, separated only by fabric. The fingers in her hair curl up, tugging carefully at the root when she drags her teeth over the swell.

"What are you doing?" He asked incredulously.

"Giving you something," she looked up to him and had the nerve to look confused, "Isn't this what you wanted?"

"I. . ." he trails off, surprised, confused, wondering if she was joking but the look on her face is far from teasing, "You don't have to."

"Do you want me to?"

Minho opens his mouth, then closes it again before he nods.

"Okay," she agreed, "But I want to just hold you in my mouth first."

[railingsofsorrow]

can I request Seth Clearwater x male reader

plot reader and Seth was always close when human but when Seth phases he leaves reader later reader phases and Seth and reader imprint on each other but reader struggle with abandonment issues and Seth has comfort reader

Invisible String

[seth clearwater x reader]

A/N: I've never written about seth. this is my first work on him (I loved the experience), I hope you don't find this awful, terrible and trashy. I tried my best, enjoy your reading <3

A/N²: I took some liberties in the werewolf transformation aspect. I picked up different things from research + tv shows + the twilight movies. the wolves turn in the full moon but they have control of their minds during it, at least jacob's pack does. they also have the ability to turn whenever they want to. also, this is not the timeline from the twilight movies. keep that in mind. but some characters are mentioned.

summary: It's you and Seth. Seth and you. Always. Until it wasn't.

pairing: seth clearwater x male!reader; jacob black x platonic!male! reader

w.c: 3.5K

warnings/content: abandonment issues; insecurities; tw!sexual assault is implied (not btw reader and seth!); reader is bitten but the process is not described; break-up (not really); friendship miscommunication; heartache; leah and sam are a thing in here just a warning; explicit description of missing someone; arguments; discussions about transformations and imprinting (I wrote it in another perspective); angst basically; tw!death is mentioned once or twice; jacob is an awesome best friend <3; fluff!!; la push is the actual mc in this oneshot. please tell me if I've forgotten any warning

navi

masterpost

t.s anthology masterlist

[requested]

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“Hey, is Seth here?”

Your fingers were curling around the door handle as you pushed it open after two soft knocks. The Clearwater's recognized your entrance by now. After hearing the same pattern over many years, it was too familiar not to connect it to you instantly. And your scent, of course. But that, Leah suspected, Seth noticed it before anyone else did, even if he hadn't shifted yet.

“Seth!” Leah yelled out in the house, greeting you with a wink and gaining a nudge from her mother in protest because she was yelling. “Your twin is—”

Seth rushed past them without a second thought. You only had time to say goodbye to Sue and Harry before he pulled you towards the path to the beach.

“... here.” Leah sighed with a shake of her head. She pointed at her mother. “They're doing it again. Bet in twenty minutes his mother's gonna call asking if Y/N is here.”

Sue peaked through the window towards the two teenagers, her smile growing in the corners of her mouth. “I'll deal with her.” She promised, finishing up drying the plates.

Leah scoffed.

La Push was the meeting point for you and Seth. You had your own little spot between the rocks to watch the water. Some days it was wild, almost dancing nearby your feet. Other days, it was peaceful. The waves barely moved and the wind held you quietly like a blanket.

Today, it was a cloudy day in Forks — not that you had lots of sunny days, because the city was practically a walking melancholy. You and Seth sat down in the sand, you crossing your ankles against your thighs as Seth splattered out his long legs in the sand.

“God, I can barely see your eyes,” you touched one of his long dark strands. “How do you handle it?”

Seth slapped your hand away, glaring slightly. You raised your hands with a small smile.

“I'm joking.” You nudged his feet with yours. “You're probably the only guy who looks good with long hair.”

Seth rolled his eyes, turning his face quickly so you wouldn't see the blush coating his tanned cheeks.

“Are you excited about going back to school?”

Pursing your lips, you focused on drawing a letter in the sand. “Sure. New semester.”

Seth let out a chuckle, tilting his head to look at you. “You sound so excited.”

“Why should I be?”

He gave you a smirk, “Okay. Fair enough.” His smiled died down a bit, a serious expression growing as he inspected you quietly. That's something he enjoyed doing when you didn't notice. You never noticed. Seth didn't think you ever noticed him like he noticed you. Which is sad, but he didn't have the courage to change that and ruin your friendship. “We'll meet in the first day of school, right?” He whispered softly, refraining from moving an eyelash that had fallen on your cheek.

“Of course.” You replied. “I'll meet you at your place before. As always.”

Seth was an extrovert through and through. But he hated arriving in places on first days, that's speaking in general. Even at school, where he frequented his entire life. He liked to have you there, by his side. Your presence made everything okay.

You didn't have a problem with that. You and him had always been by each other's side, ever since you can recall your memories. It's you and Seth. Seth and you. Always.

You didn't expect that to drastically change overnight.

Weeks went by since the last time you saw your best friend. According to his family, he was sick on the first day back to school. When this excuse wore out, they'd made up some other one. Always that pity look towards you.

Not even when you stopped by his house, he'd leave his room to speak with you. And you knew he was home. You knew that by Leah's urge to pull you way from the house so you could take a walk at the beach.

What had you done to have him withdraw from you like this? What was happening that everyone was walking on eggshells around you?

“You're hiding something.” You kicked a rock. Leah's gaze laying heavily on your back, that didn't make you stop. “Is he mad at me? Because if I knew what I had done—”

“It's not you.”

You spun around frustrated, “It's not m— It's him, then? Did Seth send you here to break up with me? Cause that's what it feels like, Leah.”

“I didn't know you two were official.”

Letting out a groan, you turn away, ready to leave Seth's older sister alone at La Push, when your arm was pulled back softly, causing you to halt in your steps.

“It's not you.” She said sternly. “Do you trust me? Do you trust my idiot of a brother?”

A pause.

“I don't know,” you said. “He kind of broke all of his promises.”

Her lips quirked up in a smile. “Yeah. But that doesn't mean he doesn't care, alright? Seth cares. He's just...” she hesitated. “He's going through something. And he needs space to deal with it.”

Concern fell over your features and your heartbeat failed for a hot second. What was going on with Seth?

ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

“I don't know how you can do that so effortlessly.”

Jacob was laughing beside you. His hair was damp, clinging to his forehead. You couldn't help but think that if he still had that long hair, it'd be a nightmare to untangle.

The rain picked up quickly. You were lucky to seek refuge under a tree before Jacob could. He was looking like a wet dog.

Well, he was. Kind of.

Forks really was a box filled with surprises. You used to think that the only different occurrence that could happen in the city was the sun coming up for once. But, apparently urban legends were a thing, too. And you were a part of it.

Jacob helped you get used to your transformations after you were bitten — get used to is saying a lot. Feeling your whole body break and twist every full moon couldn't be defined as anything remotely enjoyable. No. It was awful. Some nights you actually felt as if you were about to die. The pain was unbearable.

It would be worse if Jake wasn't there.

He helped you control your anger, how to properly channel it so as to not affect your relationships (to a worst extent, at least). He was your rock in a moment of turmoil. A spot that was commonly Seth's, but he disappeared out of the face of the Earth.

Your Earth, at least. Because Jacob has seen him and even Bella, who you recently met, had seen Seth. Your best guess was that he really was running away from you like you previously thought and Leah's entire speech about him dealing with something was complete bullshit so that he could have his easy way out of your life.

Well, he did it. A round of applause because you would've never expected that from him.

“You see no effort because I practiced a lot to reach this place.” Jacob pulls you back from your wondering. You give him a look. “You'll reach it too. You'll see.”

“Pain makes you human, right? So maybe that shouldn't change.”

Jacob rolled his eyes at your dramatics.

“That's not the point of the saying and you know it.”

You rest your chin against your knee, eyes traveling through the horizon. The rain stopped but the sky was still gray, it almost looked as if it was the start of evening although it was still morning.

The sound of a branch snapping a little far from where you where made you snap your neck around in alertness.

“It's nothing.” Jacob said and you frowned, surveying the forest with narrowed eyes.

“Didn't you hear—”

“Do you want to do it one more time?”

The thought of turning was enough for bile to rise up in your throat.

“I have homework. Lots to do.” You turn away from the forest to stand up. Jacob was shaking his head at you. “I'm not a robot. And I'm not an Alpha. I'm a student and I have responsibilities. Shouldn't you like... praise my good behavior or something?”

Jacob flipped you off.

“Get out of here.” He said as you smirked. “Same time tomorrow!” Once you were far enough, he yelled, which made your ears almost explode.

The sounds were still too loud for your sensitive ears, you were adjusting back to everything.

Not only that but you had that hole on your chest along with a constant guilt swerving at your mind. What had you done to push him away? Is he really okay? Did he just want you out of his life for good?

One thing you knew for sure: if you had known that that day would be your last day together, you wouldn't have let it end so quickly.

You missed your best friend. You missed him so much.

His scent was everywhere. In the clothes you borrowed and never gave it back, in the pictures that had the two of you that were scattered around your room, in the path you took to go home from school.

Seth was everywhere. And nowhere at the same time.

He was there, in front of you. Sometimes you imagined your best friend appearing on your front porch to say it was all a prank that he was playing on you because he wanted to see how much time you could go without him.

Wait.

You froze in your step.

Wait.

“Seth?”

He awkwardly greeted you with a small wave.

“Hi, Y/N.”

You blinked twice, analyzing the frame in front of you to make sure he wasn't an hallucination. Then, you took three steps back and walked away. Yes, you walked away from your own house.

There was just no way you would face this now. Not after all this time. So you turned your back on him in the same way he did to you.

He didn't take that answer.

“Can we talk?” Seth said in a plea, right behind you. His voice was the loudest thing you could hear, not even the birds and the sounds of the forest tuned it down. Upon realizing you wouldn't stop, he groaned. “Y/N.”

“Give me one reason!” You spat out angrily, turning towards him. His widened doe eyes stared back at you. You had caught him by surprise. Good. “Give me one reason for me to listen to anything you have to say, Seth Clearwater,” your tone balanced to a softer one but it was still shaking in anger. You were so angry. So frustrated. So... overwhelmed. He didn't have the right to make you feel like this again. Your body didn't have the right to react to him like this. It's like you didn't have any control.

But you did. And you couldn't just lose weeks of progress.

“I'm— I'm sorry.” Seth stammers, walking forward but immediately halting as he sees your threatening gaze. “Y/N, I didn't... I didn't know what to do, what to say—”

“To whom?” You asked. “About what, Seth? Because you just vanished, I have no idea why.”

“That's why I'm here.” He walked over to you this time and you didn't react. “I want to explain. I wasn't ready then but I'm ready now.” His features softened slightly and you almost melted at his kicked puppy eyes.

And suddenly, there it was. That pull towards him. That comfort your body felt, that safety your mind cradled in. You weren't angry anymore, but you were trying to hold onto that anger as much as you could. It wasn't fair to just forgive him like this. He left you without an explanation. Without a goodbye.

Your eyes hardened as you folded your arms across your chest. He was staring. Waiting. “I'm waiting.” You said shortly.

Seth seemed to wake up from his daydreaming. He hesitated for a second but then he blurted out something that might have been a joke to you a month ago. But now it couldn't be anything less than the truth. You didn't know if you should be mad or laugh until your lungs screamed.

“Okay.” You cut him off mid-explanation. He blinked up at you. “Sure, Seth. You ghosted me because you're a werewolf. That's a great excuse.”

His face twisted in confusion. “You think I'm lying.” You raised an eyebrow and his brows furrowed. “But you know I'm not lying, right? You can hear my heartbeat.”

You sucked in a breath.

“What?”

Seth tilted his head, “You can hear my heartbeat, can't you?”

No. Jacob wouldn't do that, would he? He wouldn't tell anybody about... about your condition. No.

“Y/N.”

Your fingers dig into your arms. “What?”

Seth sighed, “Can you look at me, please?”

You did, albeit against your will. Staring back into his eyes caused all your breath to dissipate. They weren't in their usual dark brown shade, leaning towards a mocha brown. No. They glowed yellow in the same way yours did.

“Fuck.”

He attempted a smile but he quickly went back to apprehension.

“Do you believe me now?”

You stammered out a response, forcing your head to travel back to all of the moments you missed the signs.

“I'm sorry.” He said softly, his fingers ghosting over the skin of your arm, sending shivers down your spine. “I didn't know how to tell you. When it happened I wasn't—”

“Seth,” you shook your head. “Why didn't you say anything?” And you looked at him as if it was the first time you saw him. His slightly matured features, his now short strands. God, all that hair was gone. He looked different. But his eyes remained the same. That playful kid you met in your ten years of age was still there. Maybe, that boy from months ago was still there as well.

“I was scared.” He croaked out, leaning closer. His eyes sparkled with unshed tears. It physically pained you to see that image. “I never meant to avoid you for so long but I— I was scared. I was scared to hurt you. You have to understand—”

“Stop,” you squeezed his hand. “Seth. It's okay.” your fingers grazed his wet cheek, he immediately melted under your touch.

“I'm sorry.” He let out in a whisper. You involve your arms around his neck, feeling his warmth travel through you. “God, I missed you so bad.”

His nose buried into your neck as you adjusted to his hold, closing all the space you could possibly have. You finally gave in to the feeling of being close to him. This is what you needed. This is what you've been craving.

“It's called imprinting.” Jacob said, pulling your attention away from Leah and Sam. He leaned back on the three you both were resting against. His damp hair sticking to his forehead. “It happens to two people, usually shape-shifters like us, when they feel this gravitational pull towards one another.”

You turn back to the couple that was playful fighting in the water. They looked like children when they were together, Leah and Sam. You couldn't remember a time where they weren't like this. But you didn't actually know when it started.

“Is it like love at first sight?”

“No.” He shook his head. “It's more like a... strong pull towards someone else. Things make sense with them, they hold you together and they keep you grounded. Have you ever heard of a soulmate bond?”

You nod, shifting closer as your internet spiked up. “Through bedtime stories.”

Jacob hum in agreement. “Yes. It's like your missing piece is finally in its rightful place. A puzzle completed.”

“Have you ever found it?” You ask. “Your... soulmate?”

Jacob took his time to reply to you. And you chose to not question the heavy silence that laid upon the two of you.

“No.” He settled for. “Not yet.”

Seth didn't let go of you for a while. He also explained everything from his first transformation, the main reason why he pushed you away, to the newest gossip in town. It never occurred to you how much you were missing by not having Seth Clearwater at your side at least half of the day — it did occur. A lot, actually. It was all your heart could think of.

“How did you know?” You asked. Your walk took you back to the beach. The first time in a long time since he joined you there. “About me.” You clarified, voice small.

Seth kept on wiggling your fingers in distraction.

“Your scent.” He replied, glancing at you carefully. “It changed.”

A bitter smile graced your lips. “Right.” That's something else you had learnt recently. Humans and shape-shifters don't smell the same.

Seth inched closer, intertwining your fingers. An action that called your attention and made you smile in his direction.

“I'm sorry about the way it happened, Y/N.”

You were aware of what he was referring to. Underlying his words were a melancholic tone accompanied by his soft doe eyes.

Your transformation wasn't the worst thing that occured to you — being bitten was. That you never asked. Something was taken from you that night, you still haven't fully recovered.

“It's a process.” Jacob said once. “One step at a time. And you're not alone.”

You laid your head in his shoulder basking under his warmth in the cold air of La Push.

“Yeah,” you croaked out. “Me too.”

But you were alive and that's what mattered. Someday, the pain would stop waking you up with a bad nightmare that stole your peace in nights and days.

“I should have been there. I'm sorry I wasn't.”

“Seth.”

He hummed softly in acknowledgement. You pinched his side and he emitted a sound of protest.

“Stop apologizing, Clearwater. I already forgave you.” You gained one of his grins that hid his eyelids almost completely. And you shook your head, fingers grazing the crinkles beside his eyes. “Just don't do that again. Or I don't want to see or hear from you ever again.”

He pulled your hand to his chest, mumbling a promise under his breath as if he was scared someone might hear it. “Never. I'm not going anywhere, okay? Well.” You frowned and he chuckled. “I mean, it's not like I can, right?”

It took you two long seconds to understand what he meant by that. When you did and he watched realization enlightening your features, you turned your face away to hide the inevitable blush that coated your cheeks. That only sent him into a harder laugh, but he didn't let you bury in your embarrassment much longer because he started kissing every part of your face until you whined and pushed him away, threatening to drown him in the sea.

He said he wouldn't mind because if he died by your hands then he'd happily go into the afterlife. You called him a sap and he agreed.

Your evening was swarmed by his smile and the new things you had missed in the past few weeks. You still knew him and he still knew you. But there was so much more to see, to feel. One thing was very much clear: you weren't the only one that felt that pull. You knew he felt it too.

You'd happily figure out the rest with Seth by your side. You knew that, from now on, he wouldn't be going anywhere.

“I can properly call you Bambi now,” you mocked him, earning a loud groan.

“I am not a deer, Y/N.”

“Eh, you act like it, so that's enough, Bambi.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━

sources: [1] [2]

[strawberryfairi]

Synopsis✨: The story of how you catch heavy feelings for the hot photography student, Shuji Hanma…even though you already have the perfect (fake) boyfriend.

Pairings: Photography Student! Shuji Hanma X Dance Major! Black Fem 🤎 Reader (ANYONE CAN READ🧚🏾‍♀️)  Content: Drama, lots of denial, angst, sneaky link, lots of cheating, mutual pining, unserious Shuji, controlling parents, forced relationships, romance, fighting, porn with a good plot vibes, intense sexual tension, etc (just find out the rest lol)

w.c: 4k💠 Released: August 30, 2024

Previous | Next... | Chapters Masterlist

NOTE🧚🏾‍♀️: Ok so y'all...here's the tea. Not I forgot to post this on Tumblr after I had already put it up on wattpad I mean like over 2 months ago😅 I KNOW I KNOW DANG I'M SO SORRY Y'ALL OMG. I'm glad I realized this cause uhhh....yeah😭

C.W:  TRIGGER WARNING! Angst (nothing really dark though), illegal drugs mentioned, mentions of date rape/sexual assault, reader has a seizure, "Rape Kit" (Sexual Assault Forensic Exam) Mentioned, Best Friend Keisuke Baji is supportive!!!

10; Allegations 指控

Shuji feels a heavy weight partially lift off of his shoulders when he sees you finally awake, but it also pained him the way you looked so tired and devastated, sitting there with red, puffy eyes.

"Hey pretty girl." He says softly, reaching over and wiping a few stray tears with the back of his hand. It felt so strange to him, being so soft and gentle with someone, and caring so much. He never realized how powerful tears could be until right now. You had his heart clenching and didn't even know it.

"I don't feel pretty. I feel terrible." You mutter blandly with a light sniffle, looking down with a deep frown on your lips.

"Trust me you're still a ten even in a hospital bed." He grins, attempting to lighten the mood, but honestly...it was just truly how he felt.

"Stop..." You purse your lips together, trying not to smile at that.

"I mean it." He says softly, leaning down and giving you a quick, uncharacteristically gentle kiss.

Finally you give him a smile, that cute, shy smile that gets him every time. But as fast as the smile appeared, it faded right back into that same deep frown from before. "I-...I don't want you to go away." You murmur sadly, looking up at him with nearly desperate looking eyes.

Shuji furrows his brows. "What're you talkin' about? I'm right here. I'm not goin' anywhere."

"No." You shake your head, "I mean...I-I don't want you to leave me. I don't want this to go away." Your tone is so quiet he almost doesn't hear you, or really, he almost doesn't believe you actually just said that.

"Angel...-

"I don't want you to be like this with another girl; doing to her what you do to me. I want you to just be this way with me, 'cause I-...I li-

Abruptly, Shuji cuts you off with a soft kiss. He wasn't fully sure why he went and did it but, it was just the first thing that came to his mind. Slowly he pulls away, his eyes closed as he struggles to manage the awkward and unnecessarily aggressive pounding in his chest.

"Don't say it." He whispers desperately.

"But-

"I'm serious, you don't know what you're talkin' about. I don't think you really mean all this." He says rather uneasily.

"No, I do! I mean it, I like you!" You assert in a bit of a whiny tone, looking up at him with the most sincerest expression you could muster.

"No", He shakes his head, "No, you don't. You're just...probably feelin' emotional right now 'cause of everything goin' on." He concludes. Truly he wasn't sure he could handle hearing this from you.

You frown, but press on anyways, determined to get your feelings across. "I like you, Shuji. I wanna be more-

"Stop." He says wearily, shaking his head. The more you say it the more it forces him to have to actually acknowledge it, actually do something about it, and he had no idea what to do about this.

"Don't you?! Don't you like me too?! You really don't feel anything for me; not-..not at all?!" Your eyes instantly blur for the thousandth time, small tears starting to make their way down your cheeks just as you had finally stopped crying a second ago.

Shuji sighs exasperatedly, feeling like an asshole for making you cry, even though he was ninety eight percent sure this was purely just heat of the moment, high emotions talk. "Come on, don't cry angel; where's this even comin' from? You have a boyfriend, remember? You know that. You can't ask me somethin' like this." He coos, wiping away your tears with his thumb. He felt so hypocritical saying that. Since when has he ever given a shit about you having a boyfriend?

"So, you don't then? This whole time you-...you don't really like me?" You sniffle, casting your gaze downwards in a mix of hurt and embarrassment. Shuji feels stuck, at a complete loss as he tries to rack his brain for something to say that could possibly diffuse this. For the first time ever he feels completely overwhelmed by a situation; by another person. This was way too far out of his usual territory, and it's throwing him off.

"I-...look, I really don't think this is the right time to talk about-

"Do you or not?!" You press, becoming annoyed at the way he keeps fumbling around and deflecting. For a moment there's nothing but silence between you two. Both eyes locked onto one another stubbornly, inaudibly waiting for the other to crack and accept their loss.

Then finally, Shuji looks to the side with a grunt, jaw clenched tightly while facepalming in defeat. "...I do." He admits in a hushed, low tone.

"What?" You mutter in surprise, blinking a few times.

"I got feelings for you. I've had feelings for you for a while now." He clarifies, his tone still soft yet there's a clear discomfort. "But...you know I don't know anything about that boyfriend stuff; I'm not good at that kind'a thing. I can't give you what you need." He adds apologetically. Instantly you feel a small sharp sting in your heart, completely taken aback by his excuse.

"What does that mean? You-.. so you don't wanna be with me?" You mutter.

Shuji feels genuinely terrible, the way your voice is shaking with that hurt expression, it's killing him. "It's not about if I wanna be with you. Even if I wanted to you're already with somebody else. We can't be more than this anyways." He shakes his head, brushing your tear stained cheek with the back of his fingers.

You use a little bit of strength to place your small hand over his. "If I wasn't with him would you be with me?" You ask, looking him right in the eyes, not at all believing his words. He's never been the type to not go after something he wanted, no matter if it was his or not.

Shuji huffs tiredly, once again feeling cornered by your difficult questions. "I mean, I don't know, I-

"Would you?" You cut him off, your tone soft yet you were clearly getting impatient.

You and that look in your eyes is gonna be the death of him for sure. "If you weren't with him you'd probably already be my girl by now." He admits straight away. Inwardly he was cringing so hard at himself, second guessing his own response.

That sounded sappy as fuck...

You seemed to think otherwise though, with the way your lips instantly curve into a small, warm smile. "I wanna be your girl, Shuji." You hum longingly. Softly, you brush your pretty lips against the back of his tattooed hand, looking him in the eyes with a passion-filled gaze all the while.

"What the hell are you doin', angel?" Shuji whispers breathlessly. The audacity to say something like that and do something like that, all while looking at him like that...

In any other normal situation you pulling off something like this would damn sure have him bending you over the nearest surface and making you his girl. Shit, you could be whatever you wanted talking to him like that!

"I'm just telling you what I want." You murmur honestly against his hand.

"I think...the drugs are talkin' right now." He chokes out hesitantly, using every bit of his strength to block out all the loud, sexual thoughts trying to force its way to the forefront of his mind. "I don't care, it's still how I feel. I wanna be with you." You answer without even a second of hesitation, shaking your head.

Shuji wonders if this must be how you feel when he acts this way towards you, a wild mixture of feeling both so tempted yet so damn conflicted. Then just to make it even worse you have him fully seduced and wrapped around your little ass finger, ready to do whatever you ask.

"Only you would have me genuinely turned on while literally laying in a hospital bed." He facepalms, resting his head down on your shoulder.

"Maybe..." You start rather arbitrarily, turning your head towards him as you let go of his hand, "The next time I'm in a hospital bed will be because you finally put a baby in me." You murmur innocently.

"What?!" Shuji instantly whips his head up, blinking a few times while looking at you with his jaw on the floor. For the first time in his life something someone else has said to him has him literally dumbfounded. The audacity...the randomness, it was so....hot. His brain was completely malfunctioning, both trying to process and replay your words at the same time to make sure he actually heard you right.

Meanwhile you're just sitting there, sheepishly pursing your lips together to hide the little cutesy smile on your face, and it's making him mad. More like a concerning level of sexually frustrated, but that's besides the point. It's heinous the way you have him fully bricked up and ready in this stupid ass hospital, yet he can't do anything about it, and you're literally proud about that! It should be illegal to say something like that so innocently. You knew exactly what you were doing, and you knew it was working too.

"You don't know what you're sayin'. You-...you're talkin' crazy, baby." He says softly, shaking his head while running a hand through his dark hair.

"No I'm not." You deny in such an innocent, sweet tone.

"Yeah, ok. We'll see if that's still how you feel when you're fully sober." He sighs, deeply inhaling and exhaling to keep that tiny little shred of composure he had left.

Then with absolutely perfect timing, Dr. Chen walks back in with a clipboard full of documents. Thank God, if he had stayed any longer he was a undoubtedly sure he was gonna end up risking it all in this hospital and doing some shit he really shouldn't.

"I have the documents here for you to sign and give consent for the forensic exam process." She states politely, walking over to the other side of the hospital bed and placing the clipboard on your lap.

"Feel free to stay if you'd like. We can't start until all the documents are signed, so you have some time." She adds, turning her attention to him.

"Nah nah, I should go." He shakes his head. "I'll come back later." He adds softly, giving you one last look before making his way to the door.

Just as Shuji leaves your room, a familiar face makes him stop dead in his tracks. It's your late ass "boyfriend", and he looks pissed, storming over to him with his eyes blazing with animosity.

Perfect timing....how ironic.

"I fuckin' knew it. I knew it would be you!" He grits out, stepping right up to him.

On the bright side, this is the perfect opportunity for Shuji to let off some of his frustration. Definitely not in the way he'd like to, but...it'll have to do for now.

Meanwhile, Keisuke and Kazutora are just down the hall, coming back from one of the nearest vending machines with their hands full of snacks. "Wait wait wait, you hear that?" Kazutora murmurs, slowing to a stop as he listens intently to the semi-faded yelling.

"Is that Ryuguji?! How the hell does he know about this?!" Kei rambles in bewilderment.

"Oh, I texted him a while ago. I figured he'd wanna know since it's his girlfriend." Kazutora shrugs plainly.

"You idiot..." Kei narrows his eyes.

"What?! What'd I do?!"

"Bro, they're not on good terms right now!" Kei scolds.

"Who?! Hanma and Ryuguji?" Kazutora's brows furrow.

"Nooooo! Ryuguji and Y/N aren't cool right now! But I mean, I guess him and Hanma aren't cool either."

Kazutora's mouth falls into an "O" shape, the both of them going silent as they listen in to whatever was going on.

"Don't fuckin' play these stupid ass games with me! I know for a fact you're the one fuckin' my girl! Don't even try to act like it's not true, Hanma!" Ryuguji accuses.

Both Kei and Kazutora's eyes go wide, mouths dropping as they look at each other utterly shook.

"Whaaaaaat?!" Kazutora mouths quietly.

"What is goin' on?!" Kei murmurs.

"Did you know that?!" Kazutora whispers.

"Hell no! I didn't even know he knew Y/N!" Kei shakes his head frantically.

"Woooooow." Kazutora whispers.

"Your girl?! You're really bitchin' to me about games when you're the one playing pretend with her every single day. She's literally never been your girl." Hanma claps back nonchalantly.

"Wait what?!" Kazutora gasps once again.

"Ok, well see, that I did know." Kei murmurs.

"What does he mean pretend?!" Kazutora whispers.

"So like, Y/N and Ryuguji are actually a fake couple, bro. They're not really together; never have been." Kei explains briefly.

At this point Kazutora has to take a short lap, his brain failing to comprehend the whole situation. "Wait hold up, hold up. Y/N and Ryuguji...aren't actually together. Then on top of that, she's in a whole separate thing with Hanma at the same time?!"

"I-..I guess so, yeah. She didn't tell me the part with Hanma though; I have no idea where or when he came in." Keisuke shrugs, feeling just as lost as his friend.

"It's like a fake love triangle. No, a...love diagonal? I don't even know, college is crazy bro." Kazutora shakes his head. "Should we like...break this up though?"

"Not even gonna lie, I'm kinda trynna hear this." Kei admits with a guilty laugh. "No facts, this is dramatic as fuck." Kazutora nods, joining in with the laughter, then tuning back into the argument.

"That doesn't matter! You probably didn't even know it was fake until she told you at some point! That means before that, you knew we were together, yet you still went after her anyways!" Ken rants.

Shuji pauses for a second, looking to the side in thought before forming a response. "Ok...sure. You're still not actually together though, so being mad at me is crazy. You should actually be her real boyfriend in the first place before being this pissed that she's fuckin' someone else." Hanma shrugs plainly.

Kazutora leans over towards Keisuke, whispering quietly "They're really deadass fighting over her..."

"No like, in the middle of a hospital too. When has Hanma ever argued over a girl, bro?" Keisuke says in a dazed tone.

"Never...never." Kazutora responds.

"If this were the other way around-

"If this were the other way around she'd actually be mine. I would never be caught in a fake ass relationship then have the audacity to be mad when I find out she's fuckin' someone else! That's just straight idiot behavior." Shuji cuts off Ken annoyedly, his tone fully condescending.

"You're going out of your way to miss the point, Hanma! You're a fuckin' snake!" Ken rants.

"I'm a snake 'cause your "girlfriend" wants to be with me instead?!"

"Because you stole her from me! On purpose!"

"She's not yours to steal! You're relationship is faaake! That shit ain't real!" Shuji stresses.

Ken clenches his jaw angrily. "Unlike you, I actually give a damn about her! And honestly, wether our relationship's real or not, I'm the one she's with at the end of the day, not you!" Ken points out with angry finality. And with that, Shuji was completely over this argument. Using being a fake boyfriend as a flex was the dumbest shit he's ever heard possibly in his whole life.

"Right, sure. She might be your "girlfriend" or whatever, but that doesn't really mean shit when I'm all she thinks about every time she's with you." He countered with a level of pride that made Ken's blood boiling hot.

"Ooooo..." Both Kazutora and Keisuke murmur lowly. "That was excellent. He won with that one." Kazutora says, hovering a hand over his mouth. "To be honest, Ryuguji was never gonna win this. They've been "together" for like two years and he's still never bothered to make it official?! No, he's trash. Completely fumbled the bag."

"Y/N's pretty too, he really-

Kazutora cuts himself off, watching with wide eyes as Ryuguji suddenly goes for a punch right for Hanma's face. "OOOOHHHH!" The two guys gasp loudly. "I knew that was comin'." Keisuke shakes his head. Ken went and set things off to a whole other level. Both of them start full out fighting right in the middle of the waiting area...in the middle of a hospital.

"Shit, alright, we gotta jump in! You get Hanma, I'll handle Ryuguji!" Keisuke says hurriedly. The two of them sort of scramble around for a second, trying to figure out where to put their snacks before just leaving it all on the floor and racing over to the fight.

"Ryuguji, chill the fuck out! You're in a hospital! This is crazy!" Keisuke scolds, grabbing him by the forearm. It was like Kei wasn't even there with the way Ken just kept swinging and shit talking. It didn't take too much for Kazutora to get Hanma to back off, seeing as he wasn't nearly as pissed.

"Just admit you're jealous, Hanma!" Ryuguji shouts.

"You're so delusional it's actually sad. The only one jealous is you 'cause you know Y/N doesn't feel the same way about you!" Shuji retaliates.

"Don't even bother, don't even bother." Kazutora says, shaking his head as he tries to drag Hanma along towards the hallway him and Keisuke had just came from.

"Do you even actually give a shit about her-

"Ryuguji shut the fuck up!" Keisuke outbursts loudly. That last bit Ken had said just hit him all kinds of wrong. Finally he shuts up, no longer struggling against Keisuke's grasp as he looks at him with wide eyes, completely caught off guard that he'd went and yelled at him like that.

"You're really over here talkin' about if he gives a shit about Y/N?! Do you even realize that as soon as you got here the very first thing you decided to do was start a stupid ass argument with Hanma when your supposed girlfriend is literally laying in a hospital bed right there?!" Keisuke rants, pointing over at your room just a few feet away.

Ken freezes, the awareness of what he did, or rather didn't do, finally starting to sink in. There were so many people staring at him, looks of distaste being thrown his way from the nurses, families, and patients alike.

"Exactly. I swear Ryuguji I don't know what the hell's goin' on with you lately, but you need to get it together real fuckin' quick. There's no way you really believe you love Y/N when not at any point did you go and check on her, or even just look at her to see if she's fine! She got drugged, bro; she had a seizure! When I went in there she was scared as fuck, she could barely even move! You'd actually know all that had you gone in there to see her!"

The more Keisuke spoke the more utterly embarrassed Ken felt. Once again he goes and screws everything up by running his mouth. It wasn't like he wasn't worried about you or didn't wanna check on you, it's just...when he saw Hanma come out of your room his mind went somewhere else.

It's the fact that he was here before him, already having checked on you and supporting you; probably holding you close and making sure you felt safe. It made him feel like a failure. What good was he when already three other guys were here for you?

It's what he's always been afraid of, that you're just fine and completely unfazed without him. For the longest time that's been his worst nightmare, and somehow he never thought it could get worse than how bad it already was.

Now Hanma's just his nightmare in physical form. The personification of all his fears when it comes to you, and during his entire argument with him all Ken could hear in his mind was:

He's everything I'm not...

Horrific images of the two of you together haunted him every second he looked at Hanma. He could see your arms around him, exchanging kisses and smiles; running your little fingers through his hair. Any thought of your desperate boyfriend completely gone out of your mind.

Honestly Ken just wants you to need him like he needs you. To feel like you have nothing if you don't have him. He wants you to fall apart without him so he can come and piece you back together, like how you'd always do with him. But today just made it obvious.

That's probably never gonna happen...

Then right on cue, he spots someone at the end of one of the hallways that led from the main lobby of the hospital.

Your mother.

Everybody's hearts seemed to drop to their feet at the sight of her. It didn't take rocket science for Shuji and Kazutora to realize you were related. You were this woman's spitting image. "Ms. L/N..." Keisuke whispers under his breath, taking a step away from Ken. With a strained exhale she makes her way over to where Ken and Keisuke are in the center of the waiting area. Kazutora and Hanma are completely frozen, just watching as she approaches the other two.

"Ms. L/N, I-I'm so sorr-

She doesn't even look at Ken, just raises her hand without a word, immediately silencing him. She definitely heard and saw everything, or at least a good portion. That much was obvious.

"Keisuke?" She says lowly, actually looking at him.

"Yes ma'am?" He responds instantly, tone dripping with politeness and respect.

"Take me to my daughter's room. Right now." Ms. L/N demands, her voice making it clear she was not trynna hear anything other than yes.

"Ok. She's in here." He nods, quickly making his way to her side.

"Thank you." She breathes out tiredly.

Ken stands there, eyes wide in a mixture of embarrassment and shock. Your mom really chose Keisuke over him...right in front of him. She'd rather a friend go in there with her than her own daughter's boyfriend?! At this point he couldn't tell which thing hurt more, the fact that you're slipping away from him, or the fact that your mom didn't even trust him anymore. 

Later That Evening

Your eyes could barely stay open from how tired you are at this point. You needed your bed immediately, and nothing else. 

The examination process was finally over, and you were almost cleared to leave the hospital, but your mom's constant rambling and nagging was just getting started. 

"-You hear me? Not another second with that boy!" 

"Who? Keisuke?" You murmur tiredly, brows slightly furrowed in genuine confusion. 

"No! I mean that boy you've been messing around with! He's caused nothing but trouble for you, and I've had enough! I'm over it; this is too much!" She stresses, gesturing towards all of you with a hand. 

"He's not the one that did this." You shake your head. It hadn't even fully registered to you that she's somehow well aware about you and Shuji. 

"That's not the point, Y/N. I don't want you around him anymore; I mean that." 

You didn't have the energy to put up much of a fight and protest, honestly you were sure you'd probably go home and forget this conversation too just like everything else from today. Once the doctors clear you, your mom decides to be the one to take you back to your dorm, leaving Keisuke, Ken, and everyone else to head off by themselves. 

Your mom came with you all the way up to your dorm room, making sure you were in there safe and sound before finally heading out. Of course not without making it clear for the thousandth time that she doesn't want you anywhere near Shuji.

 Immediately you practically rip your clothes off then plop face first right onto your plush bed. "What kind of day was this?" You whisper to yourself, that weighty, dark feeling making its way back onto your shoulders with full force. It was shocking yet really not that no more tears were left, your body too exhausted to do anything else but lay. Weakly you get yourself under the blankets, snuggling and curling into a little ball to comfort yourself and bring some warmth. 

A/N🧚🏾‍♀️: AAAWWWWWW Not the confession🥺 I had been debating fro a while with this chapter if I wanted the reader or Shuji to confess first teehee

[spiritually-a-blorb]

I LOVE MONSTER HIGHHHHHH AHHHHHH

so here are some headcannons/movie ideas beacuse we deserve movies like the originals

- If Elizabat had died, Draculara would have actually been the Vampire Queen

- On that note, I think the Vampire's Heart picks two candidates, and whoever is best suited for ruling will be the one the Heart chooses to follow, so if one dies, the Heart just follows to the other person

- In a stipulation included in the contract Clawdeen signed, the one chosen in the competition would inherit Monatella Ghostier's company and fortune if she were to die, making it more believable that she was "passing on" her company.

- Clawdeen now owns a fashion company, long story short, and she collabs with Jinafire and Skelita to help make fashion designs for the company. Everything else is taken care of until Clawdeen is of age

- Lagoona runs a swim team that tries to unite saltwater and freshwater monsters, along with Gil. She also helps monsters get over their fears.

- Ghoulia runs a quiz bowl and mathlete team! Her and Frankie are some of the star members, along with Jackson Hyde and Heath!

- Speaking of Heath, I feel like he gets surprisingly good grades, and knows a lot of random facts

- Frankie plays volleyball! She's pretty good at it, actually. one of her main reasons was she wants to improve her strength in limbs, since Frankenstein's are typically really strong monsters. Plus, she wants to get stronger so her limbs don't keep flying off whenever she falls. The fearleading team is good for some of that, but volleyball gives her stamina and concentration, since her limbs are more prone to flying off when she's tired.

- Abby loves making traditional food for her friends, along with ice cream and desserts. She specializes in colder dishes, like cold soup and other things served cold, but she's good at everything, really.

- She knows exactly what temperature the food is when she touches it, and it works with any object, really.

- Cleo offers to show the girls around Egypt and the Pyramids, and they learn that Cleo caught the attention of the next Pharaoh, and he funds a lot of her shopping. She dosen't know how to feel, since she loves Deuce, but she also feels obligated to the Pharaoh.

- If this was a movie, the lesson would be about toxic couples, and how Cleo goes back to Deuce because she shouldn't be obligated to date the Pharaoh because he buys her stuff. It also features Deuce not feeling good enough against the Pharaoh, and Cleo showing that she loves him for him, not what he provides.

- It would be kinda similar to Boo York, but since it already happened, he would be grappling with an issue that's already been "resolved". It would show that some issues take time to heal, and even then, they might not fully heal.

- All of the girls would've slayed at Just Dance and we should've gotten an episode or movie about friendly competition to teach kids to be good sports.

- The movie would focus on a schoolwide competition, and show different ways to be kind to your opponent and the people being unkind, how to spot it, and how to stop it. They showed that a little in the rollerblading movie, but I think it would be good to focus on it more

- Frankie being non-binary in the reboot is actually really cool, and that is now canon thank you. It would be a good lesson on how people can struggle with dysphoria and would just be really cool to focus on that on a movie, like how she discovered it, her friends being supportive, the whole coming out experience.

MOVING ON FROM POTENTIAL MOVIES BEACUSE I TORTURE MYSELF WITH POSSBILITES AND I CANNOT DO IT ANYMORE

- Spectra grows up to be the new principal of the ghost school. She brings good quality education to the school, and causes major reform in ghost society and how they view other monsters.

- Abby always has candy in her purse for her ghoulfriends

- whenever the girls go out to eat, they always pick a place with vegetarian options for Draculaura

- Clawdeen almost got expelled for fighting students when she was younger. They insulted her friends and family and she went nuts. To this day students are scared of her. But she's a lot calmer now, and prefers to solve her problems with words. Get her mad enough though, and she will start swinging.

- Draculaura is a pacifist!

- Ghoulia has little plants growing on her body. She's a reanimated corpse, so her body is stuck in a rotting phase, it just dosen't rot anymore. It rots slowly until she's barely skin on bones, and then she fades into the dirt and decomposes. (That's how zombies die.) Anyways! she's just rotted enough to support moss/fungus life, and she loves her plant children

IV'E GOTTA STOP THIS IS TOO LONG✋️

[msmattea]

pocket princess

K makes me question everything. Every time I present myself to him, I unravel like a  blooming onion, right in front of his very eyes. I feel beautiful in my performance, and when I  take my bow, I am met with K's quick bite. My scales are broken, and my membranous shell  is left exposing my fleshy inside. I feel like I simply can’t exist anymore, and my curiosity is  being eaten away. I am now left with, the question of why am I the one being eaten.  

 I quite literally don’t know anything about K. I can’t tell you his favorite color. I  can’t even tell you what he does for a living. We seem to only exist, in sexual silence, bound by  the pure physical attraction of each other. Physically, we couldn’t be more opposite; and as a  pair, we resemble the number 10.  

“You're just so small, I just want to put you in my pocket.” He jokes.  

“I’m sure you would love that,” I reply.  

The idea of being carried around, just for the pure thrill of pleasing this man’s pocket  scared me. And at that moment, I could feel myself turning into that onion, alone rotting in some  man’s pocket.  

“Okay so, I know you’re a Gemini. But what’s your big three?” I tried my best to save the  conversation. But K just stares at me.  

“I respect you right now, so don’t make me not.” 

I couldn’t tell if he was joking or not. However, I was able to discover his birthday is in June, exactly three years and three days older than me. I also found out that he doesn’t smoke or  drink, or at least he’s on a sobriety streak. Something I’m struggling with. I wonder what he thinks of me and my relationship with sobriety. It's rare to see me with alcohol, but I am almost  always freshly baked. I was sober with him, because truthfully it isn’t fun being the only person  who isn’t sober. But this time, I wanted to erase any trace of a red flag. I tried to present myself  like an array of freshly washed white porcelain dishwareater, still warm to the touch. There’s a  cleanness to the grime that I do present, specifically from my grimly tainted white socks, which  are slowly turning into a dull grey. Like unhealthy bones. I wonder how healthy K's bones  are. His arms feel strong and I bet he has healthy bones. I find myself oftentimes, fixating on the  90-degree angles of his arm, and how they can hold me, and wondering if they can support me in  the right ways. 

Oftentimes, I am met with the physical command of his mouth rather than the voice that  lives in there. K will stare at me, and slowly purse pulse his lips out, like he wants to eat my soul.  And I kiss him. I complete his command, waiting for my treat. K makes me feel like a  desperate dog, whose life mission is to kiss anything and everything. However, just like a dog, I  could kiss him for hours on end. I could just lick away. I then again, think I could kiss anyone for  hours. I just love to kiss. I crave the Candace of a kiss, the dance, the intimacy of mouth muscles  in rhythm with another. His touch tastes clean, almost refreshing, and every time I taste it,  hydration is restored. And like that watchdog, I could just stare at him for hours, foaming at the  mouth. And he always gives me this look of like bitch why the fuck are you staring at me. But  truthfully, I really don't really give a single fuck. I stare anyway. 

People often think staring is rude. However, there is a difference in the way and reasons  why people stare. I feel like sSometimes people just stare in admiration, with hearts flooding their  eyes. Then, there are pPeople who stare with magnifying glasses, fixating on your insecurities like  you’re a puzzle to figure out. And with K, I have hearts in my eyes, that pulse behind a  magnifying glass. When I stare I study his face and his eyes. The slopes and slides of his very  shiny nose, and I become obsessed obsess with finishing this puzzle. 

 He told me he’s from Seattle.  

“How’s Seattle?” I say like a little girl twirling her hair.  

“Pretty good, can’t complain.” He says with a stale tongue.  

“Tell me your favorite thing about Seattle, besides the rain!” 

“That wasn’t gonna be my favorite thing anyway.” He bites at me.  

“I was just trying to make a joke. I guess it didn’t land.” I bitch back.  

But then K begins to explain to me his favorite things about Seattle. He tells me about  the people, and how there’s a collective identity on the planet. He talks about it like the moon,  how no one leaves Seattle, with his eyes in admiration of the strength and survival of Seattle. How  this magical place has avoided the fast-paced gentrification, unlike here, its neighbor New York. And  when I hear this once again I am bloomingI find myself blooming once again. I wonder if he knows where I’m from and if  he’s ever visited where I’m from. I am left in with anticipation of the question being repeated back  to me.  

And that is all I know about K. I know his height, his birthday, where he’s from, and  that he’s sober as shit. And then I am left to daydream of the could have’s and the idea of him. 

The idea of what we could be. Almost like I’m the director of my love life, and on screen, he is  perfect for the role, but I need to see more.  

I find myself often thinking about moving to Boston or Chicago, and escaping New York.  And if K fits that daydream. I imagine, that K and I are making this expedition together  - driving in a millennial car, infested with cardboard boxes. I’m young but I want to feel old, to  start settling down. My mom says that settling down has nothing to do with age. To calm down,  ideally is to settle down. I’m curious about what that feels like. I crave the feeling of waking up  in my first house. The smell of it. I’ve always loved the smell of a new house: fresh, almost the  way a blank slate would smell if it could be bottled and sold. And it's small and homey. And it's  young, and only grows with me. I try to picture the way K and I would live together. I  imagine I’m naked in bed with K, in a refreshing ocean of white sheets swimming around  us. And it's a weekend, and we order breakfast in for bed because we both can’t cook. I feel like I’m  in my a movie.  

 “What do you wanna do today?” He says, kissing my cheek.  

 The possibilities are endless. And anything is everything because we're doing it together.  “Let's go to the beach.”  

I don’t really know if K swims, mainly because he took his socks off when we had sex for the first time, but perceeded to sheild his feet from my judgement. but my socks remained on. I can tell a lot about  a person based on their hands and feet. Anyways, when I looked at his feet he instantly  jutted them under my bed, escaping the judgment of my eyes. Which honestly told me a lot,  either that one, he’s self-aware. And two, that he also puts emphasis on feet. I can tell a lot about  a person based on their hands and feet. My mom would always tell me that. He didn’t scream  beach boy, but had the eagerness to jump into me, the way a swimmer takes to a wave.

But this is where I stall in my knowledge of him. Of who K is. I’m left guessing. What does he wanna  do with his life? Does he want to stay in the city forever? He seems like a mama's boy so is does  that mean he’s gonna move back to Seattle? Is he out about his sexuality? How is he perceiving  me? What does he think when he sucks a girl's dick? Does he perceive me as a woman? Does he  view me as a perfect blend of both worlds? Has he only been attracted to the forever-growing  power of my femininity? The idea of me? The idea of what a trans woman could be for him? i wonder if his exposure of my fossilized idenity was dug through the archieve of porn. He  wants me in his pocket, to answer at his beck and call. To make him cum. To have me never finish but flirt back all mixed in with the awkward silence of him finishing.

He doesn’t know me though. He doesn’t know anything about me. I know the basics  about him, but he doesn’t even know how basic I am. When I ask questions, I am secretly asking  if I have permission to talk can talk about myself. Almost like I am my own father, showing off his daughter to marry. I asked him what he knew about me and he only said that I’m a gemini. That’s it.  The only thing that I think he knows about me, is that i’m a gemini. And this makes me want to  quite literally create mess. I want to take a knife and just stab balloons, and car tires. I want to  walk out of an empty building, freshly exploded, in slow- motherfucking- motion. I want leave  him behind, and steal his pocket.

[softquietsteadylove]

Hi! I have a request for your amazing actor au!

I don’t know if you know this but there was a photoshooting with the train to Busan cast where Ma dong seok lifts the actress up in his arm.

Thena and Gil have to do a photoshoot for their upcoming new movie and both of them are just looking amazing. the director ask if Gil can lift Thena up in his arm so they look like a powerful and elegant couple. You can make it a bit playful for example Gil pretending to struggle only to lift her up in one smooth movement suprising everyone how easy it is for him.

Looking forward to read it I’m pretty sure it will be amazing as any other work you have done❤️

Here are both gifs as links so you know what exactly I mean :)

https://images.app.goo.gl/YGX2ZQZi4zFLZiiA8

https://images.app.goo.gl/QVHMo2yynM35thRaA

"Okay, great," the director of photography announced, declaring his satisfaction with this set of shots and being ready to move on to the next.

Thena and Gil both fell away from the stiff poses they were hitting with laughter. Thena shook her head hair out, "where is one of those wind machines when you need one?"

Gil just chuckled, picking up one of the nearest props - a clapper board - and fanning her. "I know what you mean. These lights are brutal."

Thena sighed as the light breeze hit her, "what would I do without you?"

"Hey, this isn't free, y'know."

She laughed, utterly glowing between her actual smile and the lights on them. The shutter clacked a few more times, capturing the moment of her genuine laughter.

"How much longer?" Gil whispered to her as the lights were moved for the next few promo shots.

Thena took the clapper from him, fanning him this time, "I think we have the space for three hours? I imagine it's only been half as long as it's felt like."

"Yeah, I get that sense too," Gil mumbled, tugging at the collar of the clothes they had him in for the promos. It was a nice suit, he had to admit, and it fit his character. But it didn't help him in the comfort department. He looked at her, particularly down at her feet, "how're you doing?"

Thena tilted her head, ever charmed by how caring he was. She had complained about the exceedingly tall heels they had her in only twice now. She thought she was showing admirable restraint, considering how uncomfortable they were. But of course Gil still noticed. "I suppose I can't really complain."

"Well, you could," Gil shrugged, "a little. I don't have to wear them."

"That is true," she pursed her lips at him, earning a laugh from him as a reward. "Seems a little unfair."

"Okay," the DOP spoke up as the lights were settled for their next shots. "We're looking for romantic-lead energy. I want the drama, the tension--I wanna feel how bad you want each other!"

Gil fidgeted with his suit but nodded.

"Get in character if you have to, but we're looking for sexy. So sexy I feel like I'm a voyeur just for takin' the picture--and, go!"

Thena took the advice freely, much more comfortable in the mind of her character for direction like that. When she lifted her eyes Gil also seemed in the mind of his character--the man who had leapt through the wall of a burning building for her (character...her character).

Gil pulled her to him, his hands on the slope of her waist. He was always saying that he didn't want to hold her too tight, startled by the itty-bittiness of her waist in comparison to the surface area of his palm.

Thena inhaled as his hand trailed down until it could settle on top of her hip. It hovered there, his fingers dancing the line that separated the platonic and the quiet yearning of desire. Her eyes flickered up to his.

Gil had a hell of a smoulder. He didn't think he did, but he could get this look in his eye that really made her think he was going to slam her against a wall and just...take her--do anything with her, and to her. And he didn't even know he could look like that!

"Closer!"

They stayed in the moment--in the character of the moment. They were used to having directions shouted at them in the middle of a scene; it was part of their jobs.

"Kiss, but don't!--get in nice and close and then-"

Thena inhaled as his lips hovered around hers.

"And you're being dragged away from each other.

Back to the sultry staring. Thena kept her eyes on him as her fingers trailed down his suit jacket lapel and even dipped under it faintly.

"Okay, got it!"

Thena and Gil fell away from each other again, although this time they were quiet, clearing their throats and brushing off their clothes. Thena instinctively moved to twist around and play with her hair before remembering there were people whose job it was to style it. People who would kill her for messing it up out of a nervous habit.

Gil caught the natural movement as she stopped it, smiling to himself at how cute it was.

"Gil, can you pick her up?"

"What?"

"Y'know," the director motioned vaguely, looking more as if he had never lifted anything in his life. "Pick her up--can you?"

"Uh, well, yeah," Gil stuttered, glancing at Thena fleetingly. "I have for, like, scenes...I guess."

"You guess? Can you or can't you?"

Gil wasn't particularly amused by the line of questioning, or how it was being asked. "I can, but what are you looking for? Do you want me to hold her bridal style or do you want me to fuckin' deadlift her?"

"Okay, okay," the DOP rolled his eyes, although he clearly understood Gil's need to clarify the method. "Well, how 'bout just up on your shoulder? Could be kinda cute, right?"

"Me just," Thena looked at Gil beside her, visibly skeptical, "on his shoulder?"

"Yeah," he waved off her concerns, already looking at the monitor for lighting, "it'll be great. Show off those muscles we're payin' for."

"I don't know," Thena frowned, more at Gil than anyone else.

"What, don't trust him?" he snorted.

Gil frowned, "she doesn't have to do anything she's not comfortable with."

Thena's hand landed on Gil's arm before he could really get into it with the photoshoot director. He would, she had no doubt, if it was in the name of protecting her. She frowned, though, "it's not that. Gil, don't you think all of my weight on one arm will be...too much?"

Gil's eyes travelled over her briefly, in just one smooth swoop from top to bottom. Thena's stomach flipped over itself. "No?"

"Gil," she huffed, crossing her arms. "I know how strong you are--I know better than a lot of people, actually."

Not to make it sound like something it wasn't.

"But on one shoulder?" Thena insisted, staring up at him stubbornly. "You don't have to prove anything to them. And I wouldn't want you to strain yourself--ah!"

Everyone looked over as Thena squeaked, leaning over Gil's head as he scooped her up like it was nothing. He secured his arm behind her knees, shoulder under her backside with a hand on her knee. He kept his back straight, using his legs to do the bulk of the lifting while physics kept her securely in his grip.

"Gil!" Thena squawked, although she quickly learned he was only swaying because of her squirming and stilled herself. She was still leaning over him slightly, one hand clutching at his far shoulder while the other one was gripping his shirt collar.

"How's this?" he asked, really and truly looking unfazed by it.

"Uh," the DOP, and several others in the room, just stared. "Y-Yeah, that's great! Thena, loosen up!"

"Sorry," she murmured, trying to relax her posture while Gil was holding her the way he might have a two-by-four of wood thrown over his shoulder. She twisted herself slightly, angling her hips and her waist and her bust just-so. Her hand gave Gil's shoulder under her a light squeeze, "are you sure I'm not too heavy?"

"Thena, stop worrying about it," Gil chided, although he couldn't quite get his neck twisted enough to look up at her. He gave her thigh a pat with his hand, "you're perfect."

[jerzwriter]

Can you answer for Trystan x Carolina?

what kinds of music do they like?

are they a frivolous spender or a miser?

Hey Nonny, thanks for the ask. From this list.

NGL, the first one was one of the tougher questions I've had, but I really appreciate the Trystan x Carolina questions. I need to flesh them out more! 💜

What kinds of music do they like?

Carolina: I swear, Spotify is as confused about her as they are about me because I imagine she has very eclectic and varied tastes in music.

Like most people, the music that was popular during her high school years always sticks with her. For that reason, The Black Eyed Peas, Lady Gaga, Eminem, Rihanna, Pitbull, and Owl City will always be on her playlists.

But she was also very influenced by her father's favorite music, which included two things: Latin music and classic rock. Some of his (and her) favorites from the former are Luis Miguel, Tito Puente, Marc Anthony, and Willie Colon from the latter: Pink Floyd, Queen, Rod Stewart, Van Halen, and one that combines the two, Santana.

With that said... I think she also likes electronic music, she is 100% a Hozier disciple, and, thanks to Uncle Tommy, she has a love for the standards, like Frank Sinatra and Louis Armstrong.

Trystan: This was a struggle for me... what would an exiled Eastern European Prince love? Carolina is my world. Trystan couldn't be more removed. lol

I'm sure he was raised on classical Drakovian and Drakovian folk music, and I'm sure he rebelled against it... but now that he's older and more at peace with himself, he finds himself listening to it again. (OFC, since there is no Drakovia, I have no real-life examples of this lol)

I don't have any idea why... but I see him as a Red Hot Chili Peppers fan. Like so much I think I need art of him wearing one of their shirts lol He probably dabbled in Foo Fighters and Pearl Jam, also.

I also see him as a club kid, so dance music (especially long ass remixes) would be something he likes as well. I'm thinking David Guetta and Calvin Harris-esque, but also some of the old disco classics (yeah, he's got Abba on the playlist; the man is THE Dancing Queen).

His guilty pleasure is the Backstreet Boys (and Luke tortures him when he finds out) and when he's sad, you will find him listening to very dramatic classical music, think Stravinsky and Mahler. And Carolina totally gets him into Hozier. lol

Are they a frivolous spender or a miser?

This one feels very straightforward... Carolina is very cautious with her money, and Trystan loves to spend his. I don't think we have to get into how this came to be. lol

One thing about Carolina that is a bit out of character for her is that she loves expensive purses. So even as a younger woman, she would splurge on them, but not frequently. She didn't have many, and they'd get a lot of use. But to her, splurging was Kate Spade, Michael Kohrs, and Coach. She never even entertained Dior, Louis Vuitton, or Prada... but once Trystan finds out - he starts buying her stuff. At first, she's giddy, but then she makes him cool it - she will never be comfortable with such extreme extravagance.

These were SO FREAKING MUCH FUN to answer. Thank you!

[queenofdenest]

Title: tale as old as time Fandom: Hetalia Warnings: no archive warnings apply Relationship: nyo!denest Characters: hws nyo!den, hws nyo!est Tags: ouat fusion au, beauty and the beast elements, flirting AO3: will be updated when i post it

Summary: eha makes a choice and dark one else struggles with believing so.

A/N: Okay, you don't need to know anything really about Once Upon a Time to read this, and honestly I have no clue how to explain it. It was a tv show from abc family in like 2011 and I only really watched about 3 full seasons of it because I started to hate the plot lines and characterization they were doing. Overall though I did adore the Rumb.elle pairing (for like the first 3 seasons -- eh make that 2 1/2) and have really heavily pulled on those early episodes of it for this fic. (The episode Skin Deep in particular).

Anyway I was always planning on making a OUAT Fusion AU for Hetalia but every time I sat down to really plot it out, I hated everything I was doing so immediately scrapped it. This is a small piece of it though spurred on by me A) reading Once fics, B) re-falling in love with it. I don't think I'll ever actually write a full version of it but this fun little bit is good enough for me.

Also, sorry for being for so long, life has literally been kicking my ass far beyond what I could handle. But I really wanted to trying writing some things for both fic + whumptober and so here's the first of what I was able to do. Beta'd by TinyTeddy878, as always, and is for the Fictober 2022 prompt: #1: "I choose you."

“You’re an idiot,” Eha said, with absolutely no fire behind it. The other placed her basket of straw on the long table and moved forwards, the pretty blue cloak that Else had made her fluttering behind her with every step she made.

For a moment, Else’s heart paused – she wasn’t sure what to say to that, even as her curse raged at her to force the other away. She’s a danger! The voices screamed, and they weren’t wrong. It was Else’s growing affection for the former that was threatening all her plans; all her hopes to get back to her family were slowly fading into just being happy with the other woman. 

Still… 

“Shouldn’t you know better than to insult the Dark One?” She laughed lightly, her voice pitching high as she made to stand. 

Eha’s face brightened red, the flush of embarrassment a clashing color to the other’s fair skin and blue colored clothing. “Maybe I wouldn’t insult the Dark One if the Dark One wasn’t being ridiculous,” she replied as she came to a stop in front of her. Her eyes softened, “Maybe if the Dark One would recognize what was in front of her-” 

“A trifling little maid?” Else teased, lips quirking as she made no attempt to dance away as she was normally wont to do. “You do know I see the future, right, dear?” 

“Then why can’t you see that I’m with you forever and open up?” 

It was said with such honesty that the voices quieted for a second and Else swallowed around the lump in her throat. “No one is forever,” she answered after a second, “No one!” 

“Our deal was you save my family and my people from the ogres and I come away with you forever,” Eha said, her hands reached out to grab Else’s softly. “You upheld your part, let me uphold my part.”

“No one stays forever, dear,” she repeated, her voice growing sharper as she did so. The voices of the curse echoed her words around her brain, reminding her of all the times that she had been left behind – reminding her why she had taken the curse on in the first place. The gentle touch burned, and she yanked her hands away, ignoring the way the other flinched slightly. “You’re a fool if you think you’ll stay around me forever – no one stays around monsters forever!” 

“You’re not a monster!” Eha shouted, lips pursing, “Stop calling yourself such rude words, you’re-” 

“Not a human.” Else moved, bowing once far enough away, “Definitely not a soft, pretty little woman like yourself.” She twirled, a dress forming on her body as she did so. Giggling, she attempted a curtsy. The unfamiliar movements were rough, causing her to trip over her own feet and tumble downwards, a laugh on her lips as she made contact with the floor. If she were human, it would’ve hurt, as she wasn’t, the pain was dusted away before she could even process it. 

“Else.” Her name on Eha’s lips was heavenly and for a second, as the other knelt down beside her, the skirt of her dress flaring out exactly as one would expect, she looked every bit the image of a princess. Oh, Else knew that Eha wasn’t one, but the sight of it brought forth an image from one of her visions, one that she quickly batted away. 

“I’m fine dear, worry not for this old crone,” she said, waving her hands in hopes of shooing the other away. It wasn’t that easy though. 

“I choose you,” Eha said softly, her voice barely a whisper in the large hall. Soft blue eyes stared at her, “I really do – I chose to go with you and I choose to stay, nothing you do can get rid of me.” 

Oh, the curse doubted that – murder her darling family in front of her, it whispered seductively, break her spirit – but with the determination in those darling eyes shining so brightly, Else wanted to lean in and choose her too. “You’re a foolish girl,” Else said instead. “Positively foolish.” 

Eha brightened. It truly was a wonderful sight. “All the best stories start with a foolish girl,” she said, as she made to stand and reached out a hand for Else. “They all have a foolish girl, a stubborn love interest, and a quest.” 

“Do you believe you’re in a story?” Else asked as she stood. She knew the other placed a lot of value on books – the two libraries she had all but taken over (been given) spoke of it – but she had never really heard the other talk so fanciful. It was something that had drawn Eha to Else, that clear levelheadedness the other showed when listing to her family why they had needed the Dark One’s help. 

“No.” Eha shook her head, smiling as she moved to get the straw off the table, “But my sister – the one who glared at you when you came to our home – she used to tell me stories before bed when I was a child. They were about doing the brave thing, the right thing, and well-” she paused here, dipping her eyes. After a second, she looked back up, mischief in blue eyes, “How about another deal?” 

“And what do you have to offer me?” Else was intrigued – would she use this to try to gain an upper hand, or would she use this deal for frivolous wishes?  “And what do you want in return?” 

“Nothing big,” Eha replied as she stopped in front of the spinning wheel, the basket slowing dropping to the ground with a decided thump. “I’ll tell you the rest of this story and you – you tell me about the belongings I found earlier this week; the ones I know you sent me away for.” 

The room seemed to freeze with her words. Else stared, unsure of what else to do. She wasn’t wrong, though perhaps Else was hoping that the girl wouldn’t have put two and two together and figured out that those things – her long-lost family’s things, now well hidden so that the girl would never ever find them again – were the cause of her attempted banishment. 

“Ah,” she said after finding her voice. 

“You don’t have to,” Eha said, hesitance in her words. She seemed to pause in her movements before deciding to come closer, laying a hand on Else’s arm. “I’m not going to force you to share something you don’t want to, but I – I just figured… Well, they hurt you, and my father used to tell me that talking about your pain helps.” 

“Wise man, your father.” It was said so softly that she doubted Eha could’ve heard her, but the smile that she got in return told her something else.  Her curse was oddly silent as she debated with herself on if she should take the deal or if she should just wave her hand and deposit the maid elsewhere in the castle, then again, it seemed to always been oddly silent whenever she thought for too long about her family. 

“Else?” Apparently, she was silent for too long. The worry was evident in Eha’s voice. Blue eyes looked up at her in concern.

“Two stories from you, my darling, and we’ll have a deal.”

A/N: There's no real addition information necessary but if you want, likes and reblogs always bring me joy! :)

[enchantress-of-words]

°× Saltare amoris ×°

When you meet her, you dance.

It's slow, at first. Uncertain, sluggish, unpracticed. You stumble and you blush and you murmur "oops"s and "sorry"s, but you don't take your gaze off her eyes, and she thinks - maybe, just maybe, she can trust you; maybe, maybe she can open up just enough to let you in, too look over you with anxiety as you gently examine her heart (her world); and you lift your eyes up on her, and you smile, and you say, "this is perfect; you are perfect; guide me through the rest of you".

She blushes.

You take her hand, and you continue to dance.

It's more confident now. You know the moves, you know the rhythm; you guide her through the ballroom, smiling at her, and her face is painted with that smirk she reserves just for you; and one night, you lean over to her ear and ask, "will you marry me?" and that night, you share your very first kiss.

You still dance.

You twirl and spin, looking at her face and grinning; she tilts her head to the side, and every touch she leaves on you burnes with need and love. You wouldn't trade it for the world, you wouldn't change a single thing, because you are in love, so deeply, madly, mindlessly in love; and you have all the time in the world, in that ballroom, dancing to the everchanging music of life.

You dance even when you're reminded, again and again, that life does change; when the grief is so hard it makes you struggle to hold onto her; when you bury your son, when tears stream down your face - you dance, even though your dance is bitter and the piece playing is a requiem. You purse your lips, you look into her eyes - now distant, cold and unfamiliar (so painfully unfamiliar), and you dance.

It never falls back, it'll never return - that innocence, that serenity of your old dances, but you manage. Your hearts break, but love mends them into something stronger, something calmer, something more mature; and you hold her close; you close your eyes, and you listen to her heartbeat.

And when you're ripped appart, when you're chained deep underground, when you're stripped of the last remains of humanity and dignity - you scream her name, you bury the memories of your ballroom deep inside yourself; and when you forget how gentle was the touch of the sun, you still remeber her grey eyes - and when you forget the sound of birdsongs, you're reminded of her gentle laugh, of her quiet whispers.

So when you're finally free, you look at her, and the music stops.

(It wasn't playing for almost nine centuries already.)

She looks at you, too, and in her eyes is fear and hurt and you left me and I thought you were dead; but she also cries, and her hands are outstretched.

And the orchestra whispers, and the notes shuffle and the maestro holds his breath,

and you step forward,

and you dance.

[pageadaytale]

REVIEW: Four London Theatre Shows - Part 1

I am back home, and somewhat rested now, and I have been dying to talk about London and the shows I went to see! It's been a bit of a wait, as we went for two days and managed to cram in four whole shows in that time, and I've been wiped out since. With that being said, let's talk about what I saw and what I thought:

Show 1: Much Ado About Nothing at the Globe

I was looking forward to this one the most - I love Shakespeare, and I love Much Ado particularly. So to see it at the Globe Theatre in London was pretty much a dream come true! We had groundling tickets so we were standing for the whole time, but thankfully they have spaces against the back wall where you can rest your legs a little. I'm used to standing for a while, but even I struggle for hours at a time, so it was nice to have that relief at times...

The Globe is a traditional thrust stage, surrounded on three sides by groundlings with the stalls set back - honestly being seated for the performances might be a worse view - and everything is performed without technical wizardry; no mics, no amps, no speakers. It can make it quieter than you might expect from modern theatre, but on the ground I could hear everything well enough, until a helicopter cruised by overhead (the perils of modern life!). This was not an issue until towards the end, when one of them droned over one of the best lines in the last act, and it's perhaps the only issue with watching a play in a medieval-recreation theatre. Okay, that and the standing - it can be uncomfortable, especially if you're not used to it, and my legs were aching by the end.

But the magic of theatre is making you forget you've been standing for some two hours, and I didn't think about my legs whilst the play was going on. If you don't know Much Ado, here's a quick run-down: Don Pedro's company is returned from combat to Messina, where they are met by the humble lord Leonato and his family, most importantly the fair Hero, Leonato's daughter, who catches the eye of young, decorated soldier Claudio; and Beatrice, Leonato's neice, whose wit is whip-smart and who verbally spars with the braggadocious Benedick, a noble soldier who has taken Claudio under his wing. Also returning with the troop is Don John, Pedro's brother, who was fighting against Don Pedro and who authors the villainy of the play as he tries to break up the courtship and marriage of Claudio and Hero. But the main thrust of the story is the plan to set up Beatrice and Benedick - ever at each other's throats, they would make a perfect match if only they could see it...

All in all it's a big party atmosphere, and the Globe troupe bring it 1600s-style with Elizabethan-inspired music breaks and courtly-looking dances. Much Ado is particularly apt for this kind of reminiscent performance, as it bristles with songs and dances, including the masque ball. It's a play made for a festival atmosphere, with people throwing oranges and purses and hats, and there's a lot of playing to the crowd - it's amusing and engaging, and the quiet from the lack of speakers gives it a calming atmosphere in spite of the excitement on stage.

But onto the performance as a whole. Our Beatrice and Benedick were Amalia Vitale and Ekow Quartey, respectively, and they were brilliant - Vitale was sharp and sassy, but she had aspects of the flustered spinster maid which was endearing - particularly her turn as Don Pedro (jokingly? Seriously? Depends how it's played) asks for her hand, which she gently rebuffs with awkward excuses. And Quartey was fun as Benedick, he played to the audience and brought a slightly more modern twist to the character. He was excellent as Don Pedro, Leonato and Claudio conspired to trick him, using all parts of the stage to disguise himself as the trio move around him, and he was clearly having fun with the role. Also of note in this performance was John Lightbody as Leonato, who was perfect as the long-suffering father to an only daughter, and who sought matches for both her and Beatrice; and Colm Gormley, who pulled double duty as Antonio and Verges, putting on a broad Irish accent for the latter and playing up the old soldier aspect of the former in later acts. Indeed, I think the serious moments of this comedy are where this performance shines - Gormley and Lightbody feel as though they could take on Don Pedro and Claudio in their rage, and I was genuinely wondering if we'd see a swordfight on-stage in this instance. Robert Mountford also shines as a somewhat campy Don John, but he's given little to do by the nature of the role. Ryan Donaldson does a good turn as Don Pedro, which leaves our alpha couple of Claudio and Hero, in this case Adam Wadsworth and Lydia Fleming. And they're fine. There's not much to say, Lydia is honestly energetic and excited as Hero, where she's allowed to be; Hero spends too much of the play being silent and demure which is more an issue of the original play rather than this troupe's particular problem. Wadsworth felt a little stilted at times, but it's a part for a young actor and a difficult balance, at that: you've got to be the young soldier realising he's in love, and then you've got to become the jilted lover with swaggering masculine energy. Credit to Wadsworth, he plays it well enough, especially the more serious moments, but he's a little wooden just because it's a tricky act for a budding actor.

Despite some issues with the younger cast, however, it's a fun performance and it was a relaxed way to begin two stressful days. Ekow Quartey was brilliant and Amalia Vitale made me laugh, and overall it was a performance with its eye on the comedy and the party, as befits summer at the Globe.

Show 2: Guys & Dolls at the Bridge Theatre

After standing for hours at the Globe it was time to sit down a while - and we were lucky to have our seats upgraded for Guys & Dolls at the Bridge Theatre. But thankfully not too much, because this was an immersive show where some of the crowd stood in the stage area. We still had seats for this show, so there was no more standing today, although after so much time in the sun I downed around four glasses of water during this show to cool off. Thankfully the Bridge has been overhauled, it's got good air-conditioning and comfy seats.

The immersive theatre was fun to see, not only is the stage area just one big floor, it's hung with signs and traffic lights and all sorts, and sections of the floor will rise up to form a stage of varying sizes and shapes as the story progresses. To keep the groundlings safe ushers are dressed as cops and they move people back in anticipation of stage changes, keeping it immersive whilst helping patrons to stay safe. If I have one issue with the setup, it's the signs which move up and down for the scene changes: as we waited for the show to begin I honestly found the array of lights a little overwhelming, in particular the bright blinking yellow of a New York traffic light which shone right in my eye! If you're sensitive to bright lights, wear dark glasses before the show begins...

I knew next to nothing about Guys & Dolls coming into this, so here's the story: Nathan Detroit is a New York hustler who needs money to run his floating craps game, but no one will give him a loan. To cover himself, he makes a bet with high-flying gambler Sky Masterson, that he can't take teetotaller Sarah Brown to Havana the next day. It's another setup-the-lovers plot: will Sky end up with Sarah? And, in the tradition, our beta couple is Nathan Detroit and his long-time flame, Miss Adelaide, who wonders if they'll ever get married. Will they stay together?

It's typically fifties, rife with masculine posturing and sitcom-worthy shenanigans: Detroit swore to Adelaide that he'd given up his craps game and is trying to hide it from her; Masterson tries to win over Sarah by pretending to give up his drinking and gambling ways; and the Save-a-Soul Mission needs to get a dozen sinners in by Thursday night, or they'll be shut down. In between this there's drunken kisses, Burlesque numbers, and a guy named Big Jule with some very interesting dice...

Look, the story is kinda sexist. It's about these men getting what they want and the women being shoved to the side, and though there's a little twist to that in the end, it's very much a man-centric musical. But for all that, it's glamorous and it's fun, and in this case it's backed up by a heavyweight cast. Especially of note in this case is George Ioannides as our Sky Masterson, a relative newcomer who nonetheless provides a smooth, unruffled air to our inveterate gambler. He makes everything look effortless and he shines with Charisma, not to mention the palpable chemistry between himself and Celinde Schoenmaker as Sarah Brown. Both stand out as an excellent alpha-couple. Our beta-couple are played by Owain Arthur in the role of Nathan Detroit, with Timmika Ramsay as Miss Adelaide - she's another performer who rises above her relatively short resume, she's given a lot to do as the star of the Hotbox and she revels in it. The immersive theatre helps by giving her the space to play, in the second act approaching audience members and drawing them into her show. But the real stand-out is Jonathan Andrew Hume as Nicely-Nicely Johnson, which also brings up the big question about Guys & Dolls: why is this comparative background character given the stand-out number of the show? It's weird, but I'm not complaining, as Hume nails "Sit down, You're Rockin' the Boat", playing to the audience and to the Orchestra with aplomb. He also provides entertainment during the interval as the main vocals for the Hi-Hi Boys, during which he wears a terrible wig, it's hilarious.

Overall then, it's a fun musical with a so-so story, where the songs carry the day. It's easier to be more invested in the Detroit-Adelaide story than Sky Masterson and Sarah Brown, but the Bridge Theatre has put some up-and-comers front and centre and backed them up with some theatrical heavyweights for a great show. I perhaps have issues with the story and the distribution of songs, but the actors provided a strong performance. Stand-out numbers were naturally "Havana", "If I were a Bell", "Luck, Be a Lady", and "Sit Down, You're Rockin' the Boat", but special mention needs to be made to Tammika Ramsay for "A Bushel and a Peck" and for infusing "Take Back your Mink" with comedy and sexuality. Guys & Dolls is a show for the male gaze, but it brings comedy and heart and the stage is inventive and entertaining.

That's it for part one - our first day catching shows in London. In part two: a musical about fear and artistry and lost love; and a classic show that I can't spoil...

[wildheartsalwaysburn]

Tiny Dancer || J.S.

Part One

Pairing: John Shelby x fem!reader

summary: After serving in the Great War as a nurse, a young woman starts to work in a shady joint back in Birmingham. Life isn't taking it easy for a pretty girl like her, but things start to change when some handsome, gently cocky bloke cast an eye on her dancing on stage.

a/n: First of all, English ain't my first language, neither is French. I used some french words for realistic ballet language (translation given). This story will be a few chapters long. I don't know how many will be written...depends on my mood, time and your feedback <3 Also, please don't be put off by all the trigger warnings below. I just try my best not to hurt anyone reading my stories. It won't be as dark and sad as you may think!! I've been struggling with anorexia and body dysmorphia and went through a post traumatic disorder due to rape, once. So everything written about these topics come from personal experience.

present writing - This style flashbacks (war, crimes) - This style cutbacks (childhood) - This style

(y/n) - your name (y/l/n) - your last name (y/h/c) - your hair colour (y/e/c) - your eye colour

trigger warnings (whole series): eating disorders (anorexia), body dysmorphia, post traumatic flashbacks, self harm, suicide mention, depression, graphic violence, sexual harrasment, mention of rape, swearing, tobacco and alcohol, drugs

words: 1.085

"UN. DEUX. TROI. QUATTRE. REPRISE!" (one. two. three. four. repeat!), the teachers raucous voice echoes through the dance room, breaking the sweet sound of Tchaikovsky. The dance hall was huge, with mirrors on every wall, even on the entrance door and only some small windows aloft. A few dimmed lights on the ceiling gave just enough light so the dancers could see themselves and their teacher. She was a goddamn perfectionist and former ballet performer from France, who now saw her second chance in her current class. Young girls are incredibly teachable, flexible and persistent. But they are not less naïve and daydreaming. (y/n) was the biggest one og them all and always dreamed of becoming a professional ballet dancer and performer, just as her teacher Mme Bouvoir… One harsh slap on her tights wakes (y/n) up out of her memories. "Focus, Princess! Or do you need another private lesson?", a vile voice whispered in her ear. She dared to turn around just to look into the cheesily grinning face of Mr. Baker, her boss. This slap, his voice and his facial expression make her want to vomit right on his feet. But she keeps herself under control, as usual. She purses her lips and shakes her head: "No, sir. I can do this." Her voice nearly breaks, due to endeavour, exhaustion and tension. "Then fuckin' do it!!" Mr Baker yelled at her and gave her another slap on her tight, like an old horse he wanted to make run faster. This isn't the place (y/n) always wanted to be. This isn't the glamourous life of a dancer she's been dreaming of since she was an eight-year old girl. This isn't what she expected to be when returning from the Great War. This is hell. And Mr. Baker was the devil himself.

Finally, practise lessons are over and (y/n) just wants to disappear in the changing room to get herself clean but a well-known, harsh voice called her and the other women back. "We are not finished here, Ladies! I got an important announcement to make!", Mr Bakers grin twisted into something more bizarre, but his whole body language tells the dancers that this will be something serious. He clears his throat before lightening a cigar and continuing: "Todays' evening we will be having some very important guests in the audience. And I want everything to be perfect. I want you to be perfect, to give everything you girls got!" His eyes were glistening with lust: "And with everything I mean ev-ery-thing." He emphasises the last syllables carefully so no doubts were left on what he meant. Some of the girls look excited, happy even, some lose all the colour in their cheeks due to be shocked by his words and their meaning and some got tears in their eyes. Only one of them dared to speak up, (y/n): "You cannot expect us to act like bloody whores to whoever comes around this night! We are no toys!" Her hands are clenched into fists and her jaw tenses up, trying to prevent more dangerous words coming out of her mouth. Mr Baker stares at her with a mixture of disbelieve, anger and amusement. "My sweet summer peach", he starts, licking his thin lips before taking another drag slowly, "you are toys. My toys. You belong to me, since I pay your pretty arses. So I decide whatever you have to do. And if it's being a whore to every man in this fuckin' city. You'll have to do it!" He nearly yelled the last phrases. But suddenly his figure calms down and an unreadable smile appears on his face. "Which makes me think. You, my beautiful (y/n y/l/n), you will be the main attraction. You got your long wished for solo debut on my stage tomorrow. You will be my Swan Queen!" Watery Lane, a few hours before

Laughter, cheers and the clinks of expensive crystal glasses can be heard from inside the Shelby Parlour. This one is a day like no other since the Great War and the Shelby Brothers got all reason to celebrate today. They finally made it to run an almost legal business. Tommy was waving the fresh printed legitmation card in his hands while explaining that this hasn't been possible without the help of his two brothers, Polly and the Peaky Blinders. "Gentlemen", his deep voice shouting through the bawls of his family, "Ladies", he nodded to Polly and Ada, "today we made history!" Everyone raises their glasses, praising the success of their work. John saw his opportunity, climbs up on a chair to get some attention and waved with a cigar and his whisky glass in both hands: "If this ain't a good day to celebrate?!" Everyone agreed cheering and clapping their hands. "And as fate would have it, I just know the best place for that, eh!" His too well known smirk appears on his lips. Noticing Pollys and Adas raised eyebrows he adds that they don't have to worry. It would be appropriate for Ladies, too. But the two Shelby women declined thankfully, explaining the boys should celebrate this day in their very own way. Tommy sent out one of the Peaky Blinders lads out, immediately, to get the pub reserved and prepared for their evening celebration. While the man leaves the parlour, Arthur, Tommy and John are making the other ones of the Gang going to the Garrison, handing them out some extra cash money. "Johnny Boy, hurry up! You don't want to marry one of those girls there, eh?", Tommys voice halls through the door while John was shaving his face and does his hair perfectly. He grinned to himself: "Well, ya never know, Thomas." Then he starts laughing, imagining his brothers facial expression on the other side of the door. Under normal circumstances Tommy would have sermonized his younger brother, but today went too well, so he just let it slip and chuckled.

Another knock on the door and Arthur reminded John that they wanted to celebrate tonight and not in three days. The young man quickly closed his waistcoat, arranged the sterling silver chain with his pocket watch. "I'm coming.", he said in an acted annoyed tone, before wrenching open the bathroom door. "Oh dear Lord, spare us with this image, please!" his brothers groaned. All three burst out into childish sniggers, grabbed their overcoats and their peaky hats and run off into the night.

[caterinawriting]

Suenito (3)

Summary : (Y/n) is a single mom living in the barrio, struggling to make ends meet like everyone else. Her only Suenito? To provide a good life for her baby, and to move away from the elevated train. And maybe finally go out with her high school crush Usnavi.

Pairing : Usnavi x Reader 

Words : 1,682

Authors Note : I’ve never been so happy to write again! Thanks for the support :)

(Not my gif of course I can't make shit)

Usnavi’s POV

“Yo, how'd it go? Are we poppin champagne?” Usnavi asked Vanessa who had just entered the shop, maybe he shouldn't have though because from the way she entered and slammed the door she seemed upset. Pissed even. She turned to him, pulled out a piece of paper and waved it in his face, “The realtor took one look at this, and was like… No. Well nope on her!” She threw the sheet in the trash can before making her way back to the fridges and grabbing a soda. He sighed feeling bad for his friend, if there was one thing he was sure of was that Vanessa wanted to get out.

He made his way around the fridge, to see if he could cheer her up. He approached the fogged door and drew a smiley face on it, she smiled at his actions. An idea occurred to him, whenever Sebastion was upset he would pull funny faces to cheer up the baby, which he loved. Behind the glass he pulled the same faces to Vanessa, sure she wasn't a baby but it had to look somewhat funny right? (Y/n) always laughed when he did them.

Instead of laughing like Usnavi thought she also went closer to the glass looking at his lips and then his chest, he gulped. “There's something on your shirt.” She whispered before shutting the door and turning to the register. Embarrassed, he tried to get rid of the coffee stain. “Just this.” She placed the coke down, opening her purse.

Sonny looked over to him obviously with a plan in mind, Usnavi tried to single him to stop but Sonny opened his mouth. “My cousin over there, with his tongue hanging out...had been meaning to ask…”

“Yea?’ Vanessa responded with a smile forming on her face, this is it she thought. “What a lady like yourself...would be doing this weekend?” She smirked, turning back to look at Usnavi, which he looked anywhere but at her. “Does your cousin dance?” She joked playing into Sonny's charade. “Like a drunk Chita Rivera.” Sonny said with a look of disgust on his face.

Usnavi just tried to faze himself out of the situation, focusing on his stain. He almost got it out with a combination of spit and wiping with another part of the shirt. Next thing he knew though he had Vanessa infront of him, “Stop.” She was now super close to him with no door in between them, he felt like this was wrong. Just this morning he was this close with (Y/n), how would she react if she saw this right now? Would she even care?

Vanessa pulled out an orange stick out of her bag, and pressed his shirt to his chest. Her hands now touched him as she began to what seemed like coloring him with the stick. “Tell your cousin… Fiesta in the Heights. We can hit a few clubs.Check out the fireworks. Keep it.” She handed him the pen winking at him before she left the store. “Have a good day.” Sonny said, still acting differently

“Sonny what did you just do?” He yelled at his cousin, “What did I just do? Dude I just got you a date, with a really pretty girl who obviously likes you.” Sonny exclaimed, confused at his cousin's reaction.

“Sonny I appreciate you looking after me but… I don't like Vanessa like that. You know that.” He sighed, “Usnavi you have been chasing (Y/n) for years if something was going to happen don't you think it would have already? Here you have a perfect opportunity to get over (Y/n) and get into a relationship with a girl who actually likes you!”  

Sonny was right, maybe him and (Y/n) have been in this dance for too long. Other guys would have just given up a long time ago but what he felt for you was different. It made him want to dance in the middle of the barrio, even with his two left feet. Could he feel that for someone else? Did he want to? “Usnavi, go out with Vanessa, try it dude. It's not going to kill you to try something new.” He nodded looking out the window to see Vanessa  walking to the salon, he would try something new, doesn't mean he wouldn't miss the old.

(Y/n)’s POV

“Migo (son) please, Abuela is tired, we have to let her go to bed.” You attempted to pull Sebastian from Abuelas arms, but he resisted, hiding in her neck. She laughed, placing him on the ground and walking away quickly, just for Sebastian to crawl his way back to her. “No, no c'mon Sebastian.” You pried him off of her and placed him in his stroller, popping his binky in before he could cry. “Thank you so much Abuela, he didn't stress you out too much right?”

“(Y/n) your little man es un angelito (he's an angel)! He is no trouble at all.” You smiled looking down at Sebastian watching as he dozed off. “Well thank you so much for watching him, and don't worry about tomorrow, Danis closing the salon because of the heat. And class got cancelled too so it'll be me and my little man tomorrow. Anyway, here for the week.” You pulled out an envelope with money, holding it outta there to take it, she shook her head.

“Now what have I told you, you keep your money! I'm just happy I get to spend time with the little angel.” You shook your hand placing the money down on her table, knowing she wouldn't take it from your hands. “Well there it is, take it or leave it on the table. Thank you Abuela, I'll see you later.” You turned to exit when you felt her hand on your shoulder. “Miga (daughter) he came around today, to see the baby. I didn't let him in of course but please be careful, por favor (please). I don't like him.” You nodded leaving her apartment.

You exited the building about to turn to make your way home when you remembered that you needed more formula. You sighed, nowhere but the bodega would be open right now, did you want to see Usnavi? Not like you had a choice, Sebastians gotta eat. You proceed to make your way there, thinking about Abuelas words. Enrique came by to her home, he often showed up to your apartment always claiming he wanted to see his son, but you always denied him, he didn't want your baby back then what changed? How did he even know where you left Sebastian? He had to have followed you or Abuela, because you hadn't told him.

You sped up to the bodega, not feeling safe traveling alone right now. Finally arriving you pulled the door open and once again struggled to get the stroller in, now trying not to wake up Sesbastian. “Ayo were closed-Oh (Y/n) im sorry let me help you.” Usnavi ran over to you and pulled the stroller in. “Thank you.”

“Welcome, uh what are you doing here? NOT that I'm not happy to see you but usually you don't come by this late.” You parked the stroller by the register, and went to grab the formula. “Yea I was going to head home but I forgot we needed formula.” You were blunt, not wanting to start a conversation. Ever since your talk with Vanessa earlier you'd been off the whole day. “Hey are you okay?” He asked, walking up to you in the aisle, you nodded. “Just tired.” You walked past him to the register.

“Uhh, you going to Fiesta in the heights? I was just told about it today, but it looks like fun, right?” He said now parked in front of the register. You looked up at him, was he about to ask you out? “I had thought of it but I haven't danced in so long, and it's kinda hard to find a babysitter on occasions like that.”

“I haven't danced in a while too, I think senior prom was the last time I danced.” He chuckled looking at your reaction, you laughed. “I would hardly call that dancing, I still don't know how many times you stepped on my toes. All I know is now I can never achieve my dream of being a foot model.” You dramatically said, both of you laughing at the memory. “Well I'm sure you can still dance, you were electric that night. I remember how shocked I was when you agreed to go with me.”

You tilted your head, “Why? You're my best friend, why would I say no to you?” He coughed looking away, as if you said something wrong. “It's nothing, it's gonna be $9.99.” He rang you up saying nothing else, you paid him and grabbed your bag. “Wait up, I'll walk you home, just let me lock the door.” You nodded pushing Sebastian out and waiting on the curb.

He locked the door and came to your right. “So are you going to Fiesta in the Heights?” You asked, hope gleaming in your eyes. “Yea I think it's gonna be fun.”

Go for it (Y/n), “Well- do you need a dance partner? I mean I might need to buy a new pair of heels, you ruined my other ones but I would be down to dance… with you again.” You looked up at him, trying to read his expression. He stopped at the street light at the corner of your apartment. “Actually Vanessa asked me out, well I guess in a way I asked her out. But she's going to be my date for the Fiesta (party).” Your face fell, why were you surprised. She did exactly what she said she would, and Usnavi said yes. Why wouldn't he?

“Oh well I hope you guys have a good time. I hear she's an amazing dancer.” You tried to keep a happy face for your friend, you needed to be supportive. “I'm sorry.” You looked up at him, confused on why he apologized. “Why?”

“I- I don't know. Have a good night (Y/n).” He walked away, leaving you. At least you weren't alone.

Part 4

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@laic2299​ @toungextied​