#i'm an amateur photographer

[brightsuzaku]

SOLAR ECLIPSE 2024

Monday, April 8th

Hello, everyone! I'm a couple days late, but I wanted to share a a few photos I took with my smartphone during the solar eclipse!

I DID NOT LOOK DIRECTLY AT THE SUN. All photos were taken by indirectly "looking at the sun" through my camera and phone screen. I am not sure how much better it was that it wasn't sustained looking, it was frequent glances to make sure the lens was facing the correct object an that the zoom was right.

Phone is a SONY Xperia 1 IV. Pictures, below:

f/2.8, 1/50000, 14.5mm, ISO 125

In this image, surrounded by darkened clouds, my camera focuses on the sliver of the Sun visibly left uncovered by the Moon. The eclipse is a partial solar eclipse, and will never fully cover the sun from where I was located. The clouds look far darker than they actually were in real life, and the Sun's still-powerful light shines through, as if a halo.

Here is the same location, using a different lens, so that you can understand:

f/2.2, 1/1600, 2.67mm, ISO 125

Using a different lens, you can see the darkened shape and logo for the entrance of a Home Depot hardware store building in the foreground. I'm standing under a small tree in the parking lot, and you can see a few branches on the far left side. Anyway, the day's blue partly-cloudy skies above are significantly darkened by the partially-eclipsed Sun, in the upper middle of the image. It's an extremely bright glowing spot!

I didn't get any cool pictures of cast shadows on the ground, mostly because of the store building having cast the largest shadow of all.

But, I did get a weird photo of the lens flare as the eclipse progressed!

Once more, using these settings, f/2.8, 1/50000, 14.5mm, ISO 125

In this photo, I tried to get another picture of the eclipse! If I wore borrowed eclipse glasses, I could see the Sun as a small crescent, because it was mostly-covered by the Moon. However, my camera couldn't capture such details very well, and that sliver of light creates a bright round circle of eye-piercing glare, in the middle of the darkened clouds. What is notable is the shape of the lens flare, radiating from that too-bright orb: crescents! The lens flare features two crescents that can be seen: one closer to the Sun that is similar in orientation to the sliver of Sun located to the upper-left of the glare, and a second crescent with a "pink" halo (that appears reflected in orientation), even further to the upper left. The fuzzy, cottony shapes of the surrounding clouds are just visible around the source of the glare, but the rest of the surrounding sky is almost uniformly darkened.

I hope my pictures were interesting! And, I hope my descriptions were helpful. Catch ya later!

[lunadreamsdespondently]

I lied again, you get 6 because look at her! She's so cuuute

She's a Tall Cinquefoil, if I'm getting my plants right

[silverwhittlingknife]

I noticed something in a lot of your Dick and Tim fics. It's probably so obvious, but you always write that Tim is watching Dick. In your newest one, Tim's watching Dick, in The Return Tim's watching Dick, and you even write that Tim is always watching him. Is Tim trying to read Dick? Trying to understand? Or does he understand him by watching? What is he trying to figure out by watching Dick? What does that say about Tim? I really hope this is intentional lmao because I would be embarrassed. Maybe this is just something so obvious that I'm just getting now.

YES IT’S ON PURPOSE <333 Anon. Anon. I'm so sorry this answer took forever, but listen, this was a really delightful ask <333 I think about this a lot.  I really love origin stories—I like stories that resonate through a character’s history. 

And for me, a whole lot of what interests me about Dick and Tim is that theme of watching and being watched. Seeing and being seen.

"Watch me on the trapeze, Tim. I'm going to do my act...'specially for you." | "Timmy, don't look." | "I turned away... I couldn't watch. Then I heard you crying and I turned back... I'm sorry, Dick. I didn't want to hurt you by telling you all this." Dick's watching me. Gauging my reactions. (Tim watching Dick watching Tim!) | "I'm taking off the blindfold." "No!" | "I can't see him. You can't see him. But I know Robin. And Robin's always there when you need him." | I love that kid. Too much to let him see me like this. (But Tim spots him anyway.)

Spotlights and lighthouses and cameras and photographs. Blindness and vision and masks and detective work and trust.

I'm going to try to be coherent about this but it's gonna be incoherent sdfsf BUT I'M GOING TO TRY so. Below the cut, a really long grab-bag of my rambling on vision and watchers and watching.

Tim + watching / Dick + being watched / different dynamics

Tim's origin story

Being watched goes with vulnerability/exposure

Incomplete list of moments with Dick and Tim and vision

Tim + watching

The first time we see Tim's face in LPoD: a close-up on his eyes looking for Dick, a close-up on his eyes at the moment that he sees Dick, a pullback to his face at the moment of recognition, a pullback to his face + his camera (you could maybe even argue that Tim comes into existence at the moment that he sees Dick, like, conceptually. the act of seeing is his defining characteristic. it is the thing that makes his character happen. he is the kid who's watching.)

Tim's a very vision-centric character: he's first introduced as a camera, then as a pair of binoculars, then as a pair of eyes. His whole backstory is about watching: watching Dick's parents die, watching Dick on TV, watching Batman and Robin. I've grabbed a few panels above with Tim watching Dick but there are so many more. His major deductions are all vision-based: he sees Dick-the-acrobat and later recognizes Dick-as-Robin; he sees Bruce-in-the-past and recognizes him as Bruce-of-our-time; the climactic moment in Red Robin is about going into a dark cave with a torch so he can see what's there.

And he's a detective. He pries into secrets. He analyzes people. He's a worrywart and a fusser who always wants to understand what's going on with other people. In a lot of those panels where Tim's watching Dick, his inner monologue is busy deducing Dick's emotions and trying to psychoanalyze him. Tim's caring and watchful and intuitive... but all those qualities also make him very very intrusive.

Dick + being watched

Dick performing acrobatics for Bruce, Donna, and Tim in Detective Comics 38 (his first appearance), New Teen Titans 16, Batman 441, and Nightwing 88 (where he reflects he's glad to be back in the hot glare of the spotlight)

Dick's a detective too, of course - Tim deliberately mirrors Dick, both in-universe and out-of-universe. But also Dick's a performer who loves being watched and also wants to control how he's seen. He gets a kick out of showing off, making puns, kicking ass, taking names, and he gets a kick out of having an appreciative audience. And he's got a kind of yearning for recognition - it hurts, when Bruce won't look at him, and in fights with Bruce, Babs, Roy, he'll often bring up the past, trying to get them to acknowledge a shared history.

At the same time, he's a very private person who withdraws and hides and pushes people away when he's upset. Right before Tim shows up, Dick's just ghosted the Titans because he's having emotional turmoil and doesn't want to have it in front of them, and they're trying to respect his wishes... but that solitude doesn't last long, because then Tim tracks him down. Tim will do this again when Dick's having an emotional crisis and trying to avoid everybody in Nightwing 110.

Possible dynamics

Tim watches Dick in Robin 11, while silently analyzing Dick's anxieties about Two-Face

"The watcher and the person being watched" is a dynamic that really interests me, partly because it can be so complicated?

You can see in Dick and Tim their very first roles: enthusiastic performer and the enthusiastic audience member. Dick likes to perform and show off and entertain; Tim likes to watch; those are roles they both easily slide into and they have a lot of fun together! But also you can look at the harsher side: the crime victim and the voyeur, the amateur photographer and the guy who hates being photographed. Dick's intensely private about his vulnerabilities; Tim's intrusive and watchful and constantly trying to figure out how other people tick. Sometimes Tim's the caring friend who watches Dick closely, reads him well, understands him; sometimes he's the nosy mini-detective who pries into Dick's secrets. And that's just two different ways of describing the same thing!

One of the things that kinda fascinates me about Dick and Tim's relationship is that in a lot of ways it's built on a bunch of low-key boundary violations. A lot of their early relationship is driven by Tim's desire to know more about Dick vs. Dick's reluctance to get close to anyone from Gotham; Tim's often out-of-line, but without his pushiness, it's hard to see how they would've developed a relationship at all. Later on, their friendlier relationship is marked by Dick teasing and low-key bullying Tim; it's pretty obvious that Tim isn't actually bothered by this, but it does involve Dick ignoring whatever Tim's claiming he doesn't like ("Quit it!" "Shh").

And one of the aspects of those boundary-violations is that Tim has a habit of witnessing things that Dick would prefer that nobody see. Tim's a witness to Dick's first and most miserable tragedy; he sees the aftermath of some of Dick's fights with Bruce; he's there when Donna dies. And he's sharp and observant and analytical, and I like to imagine this as being something Dick's not entirely comfortable with.

When Dick first meets Tim, it's before he's learned to wear a mask. And Tim spends a lot of time trying to see through Dick's masks, and he's pretty good at it, and a lot of that prying comes from love and care, because one of the ways that Tim shows love and respect and admiration is by trying to absorb absolutely everything about you, like a little sponge. But there's also something unsparing and even threatening about the search for the truth of someone else. It can be comforting or threatening, to know someone's watching you.

And I love how all that complexity is wrapped up in Tim's origin story? Both the giddy childish "Watch me on the trapeze" and then the awful grim reality of what Tim actually sees as a result and then the difficult connection when Dick and Alfred finally get Tim to explain how he knows their secret identities.

Tim's origin story

Tim (recounting his origin story in LPoD): My parents held me back as the thing moved to you. I cried out to warn you. (Two panels where we see just Tim's eyes, as he watches a crying Dick. He sees Batman approach and start trying to comfort Dick.)

I think fiction sometimes presents "being understood / seen / known" as an uncomplicatedly good thing, and there's nothing wrong with that! But I like complications, and I like the way Tim's origin story frames that moment of witnessing as difficult and fraught. Tim doesn't want to tell Dick how he knows their secret identities because he thinks it'll hurt Dick to know it: I don't want to hurt you, Dick, and I'm really afraid I might. And he's not wrong. It is painful; it does hurt; it's not something Dick's happy to know.

Dick's a very private person, and there's a painful intimacy to Tim's origin story - it's not Tim's fault he was there, but at the same time, it's not like Dick chose to have the most traumatic moment of his life on stage in front of an audience of strangers, you know? It's kind of a violation. In NTT/NT/Nightwing, Dick's pretty violently hostile to photographers, and he's intensely private about trauma in general, and I like to imagine this as partly a reaction to that foundational trauma of losing the most important people in his life and also doing it publicly.

And Tim's part of that audience. And he sees the worst part, the part that Dick can't talk about. He sees the bodies and the blood. He has nightmares about it for years. He hears Dick crying and sees him holding onto his parents' bodies. Not at all the kind of first impression Dick would want to make. Not at all the kind of person he wants to be seen as. And that understanding can be painful, because it's so close to the bone, and when Tim's just a stranger, it's upsetting, because Tim knows things that Dick would never have chosen for him to know. Their few conversations about it are awkward partly because Tim's thirteen and awkward... but at the same time, it's not Tim's fault so much as the situation! There's no way for Tim to talk about what he saw that wouldn't be uncomfortable for Dick.

... And yet, and yet. Tim's also one of the last people to see the Graysons alive. He sees Dick and his parents together; he even takes a picture with them. He remembers the whole thing so vividly he'll recognize Dick's somersault years later. He sees the grief. And so I think of that connection as kind of a metaphor for witnessing. Tim sees these things and they become real; Dick can't hide from them; in the act of being seen he's caught, he's in a spotlight, all the grief made real. You can't hide, that way. And Tim's got this unforgiving memory; he won't ever forget; he won't ever stop knowing.

But then, too: Dick's seen, he's known. Even at the very beginning, when Tim doesn't know enough to understand what he knows, he knows the important things.

So that shared memory is a barrier and a bond between them. It can be a source of discomfort or a source of comfort. And that's how I think about Tim watching Dick in general - it's complicated, and sometimes Dick's glad of it, and sometimes he resents it, and also it just is, it's a fact of Tim, that Tim watches. It's notable when he's not watching, when he's turned away.

Being watched goes with vulnerability/exposure

So I'm going to talk about the fraught feeling of being watched more in a little bit, but first: I think it's fascinating that Dick likes screwing around with games where Tim can't see!

Here's Nightwing 25 - Dick's come up with the idea of trainsurfing while blindfolded:

Tim: Are you sure this is such a good idea? Dick: Shh! Listen. Tune into the changing sounds and - Tim: I'm not so - Dick: JUMP!

Here's Robin 49 - clambering through a tunnel into No Man's Land:

Dick: Hard not to think about the river. All the water above us. And bugs. This tunnels' probably full of 'em. And rats. Big ones. Big blind rats with teeth as long as -

Here's Gotham Knights 9 - ambushing Tim in a sorta game of hide-and-seek:

Dick: Gotcha! Tim: Augh!

I feel like mmm I don't want to emphasize power dynamics too much because it's easy to overplay it BUT when I think about headcanons it's interesting to me to think about how maybe when Tim can't see, Dick's more in charge / in control, and so he feels more comfortable and less vulnerable, and that's often when he's most relaxed and playing around the most?

Whereas the moments when Tim's looking at him are often a bit more fraught, as here in Lonely Place of Dying:

Tim: I'm sorry, Dick. I really am. I didn't want to hurt you by telling you all this. Dick... Dick: It's all right, Tim. No matter how old you are, there are some things you never forget. Or get over. (Silent panel: Tim's watching Dick as Dick turns away and stares into the window.)

Or here in Nightwing 6, when Tim wakes him up from a nightmare:

Dick (internally, imagining a kid falling): He shouts to me. He always shouts to me. I never hear what he says. Tim: Nightwing! Wake up!

Or here in Gotham Knights 26, when Bruce is accused of murder:

(Silent panel where Tim's watching Dick.) Tim: I'm sorry. This must be hard for you. Dick: Me? Why? Tim: Well, I mean, it'd be one thing if we really knew he was innocent, but as it is - Dick: Wait, what? Stop right there. What are you saying, Tim?

Here's Tim spotting him before he can get away in Nightwing 110:

Dick (watching Tim from a distance, internally): Still, Timmy played it through nice and clean. Disarmed the perps, protected and avoided the cops. Kept any civilians from getting shot. God, I love that kid. Too much to let him see me like this. Tim: Hey! (appearing on the roof above him, fake-cheerful) You weren't gonna leave without saying hi, were you? Dick (looking away, very quietly): Hey, Timmy. Tim: Look at you, man! Back on both feet! Think you're done stopping bullets with your body for a while? Dick: Hope springs eternal. (Silent panel with Tim watching Dick, who's turned away.) Tim: You okay, Dick? Dick: I'm fine. Tim: Well, where're you staying these days? Dick: With some people.

Of course, sometimes Tim's watchfulness is frustrating but also a comfort, as in Detective Comics 874:

Tim (watching Dick, who's looking away): Are you listening to me, Batman? I'm saying the gas the Dealer used on you was powerful stuff. Dick: I'm fine, Red Robin. Besides...you're here now. Tim: You're not fine. And with or without me, you shouldn't be out on patrol ye - Dick: Sshhh. Here they come.

(Later in the comic, Dick mentally concedes that Tim's right that he hasn't really recovered from the gas, and Tim saves him from drowning when he's hallucinating. So Dick feels kind of exposed by the scrutiny, but also... he invited Tim along, so there's trust there, too - Tim's perceptiveness can be a good thing, too, when things are serious.)

Incomplete summary of moments with Dick and Tim and vision

I think I already mentioned a lot of these but here is my LIST

almost the first thing that Dick says to Tim is "watch me on the trapeze, Tim" and then Tim does and he basically never stops watching;

Tim watches Dick's parents die and watches Dick sobbing on-stage and watches him on TV and recognizes him by seeing a particular trick because he's dreamed about Dick doing the trick in his recurring nightmares about that night;

in New Titans 65 which is their very first team-up comic after Tim's origin, Dick's training pre-Robin Tim and gives him a test about watching for details and later Tim's takeaway is "I saw how [the Titans] listened to you";

there's a moment in Showcase '93 12 which is just Tim watching Dick and analyzing what's going on with him and there's another moment in Prodigal which is the same thing;

in Nightwing 6 Tim sneaks into Dick's apartment and hides in the dark and Dick spots him and tackles him; one of their most important bonding comics is Nightwing 25, where Dick insists on blindfolding him to get him to rely less on vision; when they sneak into No Man's Land they're in the dark and Tim can't see again and Dick's teasing him;

there are multiple moments when Tim can't see Dick for a bit and panics about his safety, in Nightwing 25, in No Man's Land, in Transference, in Bruce Wayne: Murderer;

Tim's there watching when Dick's wedding to Kory falls apart and he's there watching when Bruce and Dick fight and he's there watching when Donna dies and he's watching when Dick and Bruce swing together on the night before Infinite Crisis, and when Dick goes down and almost dies in Infinite Crisis we cut to Tim watching and seeing it happen and screaming;

there are multiple moments which are just silent panels of them staring at each other trying to figure out what's going on with each other or having a stand-off - in Bruce Wayne: Murderer, in Resurrection, in Red Robin;

in the aftermath of Donna's death there's a panel where Dick's watching Tim from a distance and not approaching;

in the aftermath of Blockbuster Dick spends half the comic just staring at Tim from a distance and hiding himself because "I love that kid - too much to let him see me like this," but Tim sees him anyway and chases him down and then they lie to each other and *ranting* LISTEN TO ME the whole comic is about Dick trying to AVOID being SEEN both literally but also METAPHORICALLY AND --!!!

(the only thing i'm even as halfway obsessive about for them is the heights thing because also there are a bunch of moments involving falling or Tim being anxious about heights and worried that he'll fall or Dick will fall)

In conclusion

Consider the progression in all these moments where Tim's watching an upset Dick and worrying about him!! From reaching out instinctively-but-pointlessly when he's too far away in the LPoD flashback, to almost reaching out in LPoD but hesitating, to putting a hand on Dick's back to walk him back to the Cave in Gotham Knights 10, to physically dragging him clear of the water in Batman: Black Mirror!

In conclusion I don't have a conclusion but basically YES, "watching Dick" is a core Tim characteristic as far as I'm concerned, and Tim watches Dick a lot and that can mean all kinds of things from admiration to nosy intrusiveness to worry to care to gratitude to trying-to-figure-out-what's-going-on-with-him, and sometimes Dick's resentful and sometimes he's relieved and sometimes he's playful and sometimes it's a mix of all those feelings.

And at first it's always Tim watching Dick, but later you've got Dick watching Tim too, and there's that moment where Dick's secretly watching him fight but Tim spots him in Nightwing 110 and there's a silent panel where Dick's watching him in Resurrection and at the very end of Robin there's a scene where Dick's secretly watching him fight but Tim spots him and in the very last issue of Red Robin Dick's watching the end of the confrontation with Boomerang and in Prodigal Dick's the one who notices his face is bruised and aaaaaaah

Anyway I think they're neat <3

[musette22]

Paris & Giverny 2023 ♥️

[morbid-search]

[hiodoshi-ao]

.

[astreetcarnamedkendall]

i'm obsessed with jacob's acting choices for the dubai era. every movement he makes has heavy sandbags attached. you can see louis thinking as he attempts to move his limbs "effortlessly." even his voice - intended to sound casual and unaffected - is taut like a live wire. i really loved jacob's acting during the scene in 2x04 where he realizes daniel was looking at photographs he did not take - especially the part where louis wants daniel to make sure he lets the readers know he was an adequate/amateur photographer. he tries to say it in a relatively indifferent way, like it's purely an accuracy concern, but you can see all of his anger in the way he clenches his jaw and purses his lips. i love how jacob utilizes control when he acts as louis; it's magnificent.

[pedroscurls]

training partners (pt. 4)

summary: you meet ryan reynolds and shawn levy, and hugh does his best to keep your nerves at bay. pairing: hugh jackman x fem!reader warnings: implied age gap (hugh is 55, reader is in late 20s-early 30s), reader has some description (hair, outfit), smut (oral - m receiving), shower sex (unprotected p in v, hugh bends you over 🫣), dirty talk, hugh briefly calling you a "good girl", no use of y/n. word count: 8.5k a/n: wow, this got filthy real fast but idc lol - i need it to fulfill my fantasies lol (thank you to the anons and @celestiamour who gave me these ideas!). i promise the story is progressing, just needed this little chapter lol. little fun fact about me - i'm also an 'amateur' photographer (who does specialize in engagement shoots, but also love taking landscape / street photography pics) and i've always dreamt of being an on-set photographer so here's to me living out my dream through this story (if you guys ever wanna see my photographs, i'd be so down to post them here too!). this is purely fictional! i mean no disrespect to hugh jackman (it's the only way i can live out my fantasies of this man lol). prev part. - next part.

Hugh wasn’t lying when he said his schedule would become much busier. It’s been a couple of months since meeting him and while he’s been very busy, he stayed true to his word and prioritized making time for you. When you both weren’t at the gym, he insisted on you staying at his place… and the man can be very convincing when he wants to be. 

He’s been traveling a lot and whenever he does get back, he goes straight to your apartment and spends the night. You’ve started to leave a few of your things at his house and he’s started to leave more of his things at yours. Even when he’s traveling and away from you, it never truly does feel like he’s gone. Physically, yes, but he makes time for you and it makes you feel special. 

Hugh’s heading back home today and you’re sitting on your couch, dressed in one of his t-shirts and panties with a throw blanket draped over your lap. You hear your phone go off and reach for it, seeing his name and the text he sends you: Coming up, baby. Can’t wait to see you. 

You’re about to send a reply before you hear a knock on the door. You grin excitedly, tossing the blanket to the side and standing up, lightly jogging to the door. You swing it open and see him standing there, looking very tired, but still so handsome, his eyes lighting up at the sight of you. 

“Hey, baby,” Hugh says, voice hoarse and low as he drops his duffle bag to step past the threshold and wrap his arms around your waist. He nuzzles his face against the side of your neck, letting out a sigh of relief. 

You smile against him, arms wrapped around his shoulders. “Missed you,” you whisper, kissing his cheek. “Come on in. Did you eat?” 

Hugh releases you and grabs his duffle bag, stepping back inside as you shut the door and lock it behind him. You follow him to your bedroom where he drops the bag on the floor near his side of the bed. He sits on the edge of the mattress and pulls you closer to him, to stand between his legs as he rests his forehead against your abdomen. 

“Not hungry,” Hugh says, looking up at you and taking notice of the shirt you’re wearing. His gaze darkens as he runs his fingertips along the sides of your bare legs, biting his lower lip. “This was a longer trip than intended,” he continues. “I’m sorry, love.”

Your fingertips stroke through his locks, eyes locked with his. “You don’t have to apologize. I understand. It’s part of this…” you motion between the both of you. “Part of us.” 

“Mm, how’d I get so lucky, huh?” Hugh asks, gripping your hips and pulling you onto his lap. 

You gasp quietly, feeling his length pressing against your core. “Hugh… You’re tired, baby.”

“Never tired for you, and seeing you in my clothes just does somethin’ to me,” he whispers, leaning up to press his lips against the side of your neck. His beard has grown out, having heard him say multiple times that he needed to shave. You like it though, the salt and pepper look, the scruff and the feel of it against your skin. He knows just how to use it to get you excited. “At least on my next trip, you’ll be coming with me. I can have you every day.” His hands move further underneath the shirt, running up along your back. 

“Hugh,” you whimper, feeling his teeth graze against your neck. Gently, you place your hands on his shoulders and push him onto his back. Slowly, you roll your hips against him, letting out a quiet moan against the fabric of his jeans. “Let me take care of you tonight. Is that okay?” 

“What’d you have in mind, baby?” Hugh pulls back to look up at you, a quiet groan escaping his lips as he feels you press further against his hardening length. 

Slowly, you climb off his lap and then sit up on your knees, biting your lower lip innocently. “Lean against the headboard,” you tell him. 

Hugh doesn’t even hesitate. He scrambles on your bed and sits up, leaning back against your headboard. He reaches the end of his shirt and pulls it over his head, tossing it to the side. Your mattress certainly isn’t as big as his, but you both make it work. His hands move to the button and zipper of his jeans, undoing them quickly as his eyes take in your frame and the position you’re in. You’re leaning forward on your hands, your tongue slowly darting out to lick your lower lip as your eyes move towards the center of his pants. 

Hugh’s exhausted and he knows he isn’t going to last long, but he has missed you so much. He knows that this relationship is still new and not that many people know about it, but the more he leaves you, the more he realizes that he wants more of this. He wants everyone in the world to know that you’re his and while he wants to make sure you’re comfortable and move at your own pace, he can’t help but feel excited to know that one day you’d both get there. 

“Take off your pants,” you tell him, slowly crawling towards him as he parts his legs for you.

“I kinda like this side of you,” Hugh smirks, pushing his pants and boxers down his legs and tossing them over the bed. He groans at the relief in pressure, looking down at himself to see his manhood at attention. He reaches down and grasps himself, holding onto his base and tugging a few times. 

You would never get over the sight of his manhood. So long and girthy, leaking at the tip, and hair at his base. Every time, you’re at a loss for words. He’s so beautiful and you try to show some restraint, wanting so badly to just wrap your lips around his length and gag–

“Come ‘ere,” Hugh calls out, breaking you out of your thoughts. “Take that shirt off, baby.” 

You nod and sit up on your knees, pulling the shirt off your body, now only clad in your panties. Slowly, you then crawl towards him, settling yourself between his legs as you gently push away his hand to replace it with your own. Once you wrap your fingers around him, barely able to grasp him in one hand, Hugh lets out a groan. You lean down, wrapping your lips around his tip and sucking the pre-come from his tip. 

His large hand moves to your hair, holding it away from your face as he leans his head back against the headboard. “God, baby,” Hugh moans. 

Your tongue swirls around his tip as your hand strokes his base. You love doing this for him, just as much as he loves going down on you too. Just like him, you’re always so crazed and yearning for more. You feel Hugh’s hand move to the back of your head, urging you to go further down his length. You slowly begin to bob your head and with each movement, going further and further until you feel his tip hit the back of your throat. 

Hugh lets out a loud moan at that, accidentally thrusting his hips upwards for more. He hears you gag and he has to pull you away for a moment so that you can catch your breath, eyes gazing down at you as he sees tears stinging the corner of your eyes. 

“Sorry. I got carried away,” Hugh pants, his manhood throbbing for more. “I just– You look–”

“Shh,” you interrupt him, placing your mouth back onto his cock and beginning to quicken your pace. Your head bobs up and down, going further until you feel the tip of your nose brush against the hair at his base. He’s so deep in your mouth and you’ve learned to relax your throat because the sounds that come out of him is something that you yearn for more of. 

Hugh lets out a litany of curses under his breath, hand gripping your hair as he watches you. Your hand pumps him in time with your mouth moving along him and he shuts his eyes, head hitting the back of the headboard as a loud moan escapes his lips. 

“Baby,” he growls, feeling the tightness build in his lower stomach. “Baby, I’m about to–” 

You interrupt him by lowering yourself until you hit the back of his throat again. You don’t slow down and you don’t make a move to pull away because you know that Hugh’s close and you want nothing more than to taste him and swallow. 

When Hugh realizes that you weren’t going to pull away, it’s enough to make him reach his climax. He holds your head down against him as his hips slightly lift upwards. You pull inches away, your mouth still around his length, as you feel his come in your mouth. You open your eyes to look up at him, lips slightly parted, eyes squeezed shut, chest heaving, as he releases his spend. 

You swallow immediately, tasting the salt of his release as you slow your movements. You continue to suck and stroke until he shudders, gently pulling you away from him as his manhood softens against his lower half. 

You sit up on your knees and swallow again, licking your lips as you stare up at him. You wipe the fallen tears away from your eyes, lips swollen as you tilt your head at the sight of him. Hugh slowly opens his eyes and stares at you, a small smile lining his lips. 

“That’s a nice thing to come home to,” Hugh smiles, lowering himself on your bed and pulling you into his arms. “That was amazing.” 

You smile, leaning up to kiss his shoulder. “I can’t help myself sometimes. You’re just so–” you stop yourself, biting your lower lip. “Anyway, I’m glad you’re home.” 

“I’m glad I’m home too, baby.” Hugh kisses the crown of your head and pulls you against his chest. 

You try to pull away from him to grab the shirt from the floor, but he just pulls you back to him. “Hugh,” you giggle. 

“No,” he smiles sleepily. “You don’t need a shirt.”

“What if I get cold?” 

“I’ll warm you up,” he says softly, leaning over to kiss your temple. “I really did miss you, love.” Hugh’s eyes slowly fall shut, feeling completely satisfied and relieved to be with you now. 

“I missed you too, Hugh,” you respond, head resting against him. “Get some sleep, baby.” 

Hugh nods and within minutes, his snores begin to fill your small room. 

—

Hugh decides to stay at your apartment for the next few days and it gives you a glimpse of what a “normal” life would be like with him. You know that you’re set to meet Shawn and Ryan soon and as the day nears, you feel your nerves begin to settle in the pit of your stomach. You don’t tell Hugh though, not wanting him to have to worry about you. 

“So,” you tell him, trying to think of anything else but the meeting with Shawn and Ryan. “I was thinking we can tell our trainer about… You know, about us.” 

Hugh’s eyes light up, turning to look over at you. You’re both sitting on your couch, his arm draped over the back of it as you snuggle against his side. “Yeah?” Hugh can’t help the excitement bubble within him. He knows you’re still a bit wary about this relationship, but if he had it his way, he’d let the whole world know you’re his. “Are you sure, baby?” 

You nod, looking up at him as an arm drapes over his midsection. “Besides, I think she already knows. It’s not like you try to hide it when we’re at the gym.”

“Me?” Hugh playfully gasps, looking into your eyes. “You’re the one who can’t keep their eyes off of me.”

You roll your eyes. “Okay, we both know that’s a lie,” you tell him, though, you know you’re only lying to yourself.  

“Is it though, baby?” Hugh smirks, pulling you onto his lap as he looks up at you, hands resting on your thighs. “You do this thing, and I’m almost certain you have no idea you’re doing it.” 

“And what’s that, hm?”

“You bite your lower lip,” Hugh grins, bringing a hand up to run the pad of his thumb across your lower lip. “When your eyes zero in on my arms… especially when we’re doing biceps.” 

You narrow your eyes at him, bringing your arms to drape over his shoulders. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you say innocently. 

“Oh, so now we wanna act all innocent? You were all talk a minute there,” he chuckles, arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you closer. 

“Okay, hush you,” you smile, burying your face against the side of his neck. He holds you like this for a few moments, but he can tell there’s something else on your mind. He runs his hands along your back and up your shoulders, and back down to your waist. He can feel the tension in your shoulders, can hear the quiet sigh that escapes your lips, your breath fanning against the side of his neck.

“What’s up?” he asks quietly, slowly pulling you back so that he can look into your eyes. “What’s on your mind, love?” 

“Nothing,” you tell him, shrugging a shoulder. 

Hugh sighs. “You’re a terrible liar, d’ya know that?” 

You roll your eyes. “I’m not lying.” 

He lets out a quiet chuckle and brings a hand up to your cheek, gently cupping it. “Talk to me. What can I do to help ease that mind of yours?”

“How do you know something’s bothering me?”

Hugh sighs, tilting his head. “You know, I’m very observant. Especially when it comes to you.” 

“Ah, so you stare too.”

Hugh chuckles lightly, knowing that this is only your way of trying to lighten the mood. “Well, obviously, but that’s besides the point. I don’t know how I can ease that mind of yours if you don’t talk to me, baby. We talked about this already…” 

“I know,” you sigh. “I know. I just don’t want to burden you with my problems and–”

“Your problems are my problems, baby,” Hugh says seriously. “Let me help you. What’s going on?” 

“I’m just nervous,” you tell him. “Meeting Ryan and Shawn… I just don’t want to disappoint them and what if they realize that my work isn’t even that great and then also, it’ll be the first time I’m meeting your friends and–” you ramble, feeling him lean in to peck your lips. 

“Okay, first of all,” he says, pulling away. “Your work is absolutely amazing and they already know that. And second, as long as I’m happy, that’s all that matters to them. Just be you, baby. That’s what got me in the first place,” he smiles. “Don’t try to be anyone else, but you. You make me happy and I haven’t felt this way in a very long time. That means something to me.” 

You nod, looking deeply into his eyes. You can sense there’s something else he wants to say because you also want to say it too, but it’s too early. It’s only been a couple of months and you don’t want to scare him away, but you’d be lying if you said that your feelings for him weren’t getting any deeper… 

Because it was. 

And you’re afraid to fall because you know that if you do, there’s truly no going back.

“I just–” you sigh, leaning in to press your forehead against his. “I just want you happy.”

“I am happy, baby,” he replied quickly, lightly pecking your lips. “I’m happy with you, love. You’ll be okay,” he promises. “Besides, I’ll be there with you.”

You nod and wrap your arms around his shoulders tightly, burying your face against the side of his neck. Hugh’s hands come up to your shoulders and he can feel a tremendous difference. There’s still some tension, but it’s certainly not like how it was before. 

“Okay, I believe you,” you tell him, pulling back to look down at him. “Should we go get ready for the gym?” 

Hugh nods, standing up from the couch with you holding onto him. You smile down at him, legs wrapped around his waist as you lock your ankles together at his lower back. He holds you up against him, leading you down the hallway to your bedroom. 

“If I wasn’t training to get back into shape for the Wolverine, I’d take you right here,” he says quietly, leaning in to pepper kisses along your neck. 

“We literally had sex earlier this morning,” you tell him with a giggle, hands playing with his hair at the nape of his neck. 

“Do you know what you look like?” Hugh says, gently setting you on your feet once you both get to your bedroom. “You make me feel young again,” he teases. 

“Ah, right,” you tell him, grabbing the ends of the shirt you’re wearing and pulling it over your head, tossing it in his direction. “I forget you’re such an old man,” you tease, walking shirtless to your closet to change into your workout clothes. 

Hugh’s gaze darkens and he strides over to you, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind. His hands come up to cover your breasts, kneading them into the pit of his palms. “How about I just bend you over right across your dresser and just–”

“Hugh!” you whimper pushing back against him. “We have to get to the gym.”

Hugh grunts and then pulls away, turning you around so that he can look at your exposed chest. “Fine,” he says with a huff. “But after our workout, we’re coming back here and you’re gonna let me have my way with you.”

“Oh, I’m gonna let you, huh?” you grin, running your hands across his hardened chest. 

“Yeah, you are,” Hugh growls, stepping closer to you and wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you flush against him. “Now, go and get ready or else we’re never going.” 

You turn around to grab clothes and feel Hugh smack your backside, causing a gasp to escape your lips. You look over at him and he’s staring at you with a grin and winks in your direction before walking away to let you finish getting ready.

—

You and Hugh are both halfway through your workout, both already drenched in sweat from yet another tough workout from your trainer. You get a brief break and walk up to your trainer, taking a deep breath. This will be the first person that you’ll be telling about your relationship and you’re a bit nervous. It still feels surreal to say (or even believe) that you’re in a relationship with Hugh Jackman. 

“Hey you,” your trainer says, smiling in your direction. “Great first half of the workout.”

“Yeah right,” you laugh quietly, using your towel to wipe the sweat off your brow. “I felt like that just kicked my ass. Listen, I wanted to tell you something and…” 

A knowing grin lines her lips. “What’s that?” 

Your eyes narrow in her direction, tilting your head. “Why are you looking at me like that?” 

“No reason,” she chuckles. “What did you want to tell me?” 

You look over your shoulder at Hugh who’s looking down at his phone and your eyes linger on his arms, especially his arms. When he looks up at you, he winks in your direction and you clear your throat, turning your attention back to your trainer. “So, Hugh and I… We’re in a relationship… It’s still new, but–”

“I knew it,” she interrupts you with a larger smile. “You guys don’t make an effort to hide it, you know,” she laughs. “You stare at him a lot.”

“Okay, let’s never tell him that because he won’t ever let me live it down if you do,” you laugh. “But, I’m really happy. Like extremely happy and I’m afraid I’m going to end up self-sabotaging it because I don’t know what a healthy relationship looks like, but he’s… He’s amazing.” 

“Take it day by day,” your train responds. “You deserve a good man and Hugh’s definitely one of the good ones. Let yourself be loved the way you deserve,” she tells you. 

“Thank you,” you reply, pulling her into a hug. “You know just all the right things to say, you know that?” 

She hugs you tightly and then releases you, smiling at you. “Lots of experience. Now, let’s get back to the workout.” 

—

By the end of the work out, you’re lying on the mats trying to catch your breath. You’re about to stand up before you feel Hugh hover above you in a high plank position, his hands resting above your head at shoulder-width distance. 

“Care to motivate me to complete my finisher?” he grins, looking down at you as he tightens his core to keep himself upright. 

“I don’t think I can even move,” you chuckle, looking up at him. “That workout was–”

“Don’t gotta move, baby,” he winks, pushing himself down in a push-up, chest hovering inches above yours as he leans down to peck your lips. “Just motivate me with your kisses, can you do that for me?” 

“That’s gonna motivate you?” you tease. “And how in the hell are you holding this push-up position?” 

Hugh just chuckles and then pushes himself back up. “Just answer the question. Every time I come down, gimme a kiss. Seems easy enough, isn’t it?” 

“If I must,” you wink. “Now, come on then. Finish this last exercise so you can take me back home and have your way with me,” you repeat. 

Hugh’s eyes narrow, pushing himself down into a push-up. You meet him halfway and lean up to peck his lips before he pushes himself upright. He continues this for a few more reps, but you’re beginning to distract him because you bring your hands up his chest to his shoulders and down his flexed arms. 

“I have one more set, baby, stop that,” Hugh says, pushing himself down and pecking your lips. He notices the look in your eyes and he can feel himself stirring within his shorts. “You’re not helping me,” he chuckles. 

“I think I’m helping you plenty,” you reply. “But are you helping me?” 

Hugh pushes himself down once more, but moves his head to the side of your neck as his lips brush against you. He feels you shudder against him and let out a shaky breath. He barely pushes himself back up as he moves to hover his lips closely over yours. “I will be after this.” 

“Mmm, promise? Because all I’ve been able to think about is you bending me over and–”

Hugh growls and moves into a high plank once more. He looks down at you, watching as you bite your lower lip. He doesn’t bother replying to you, wanting to just finish his last set of this exercise so that he can just take you back home. 

“Okay, get on up and meet me in the car while I finish this.” 

“You don’t need me to motivate you anymore?” you ask innocently, batting your eyelashes at him.

Hugh shakes his head and then stands up, reaching down to pull you on your feet. His hand darts out to rest on your hip, giving it a gentle squeeze. He has to remind himself that you’re both still at the gym and while your trainer isn’t in the same room, he can’t just take you here. 

“Go to the car and wait for me there,” he repeats. 

“Or… what?” 

Hugh lets out a low growl, gaze darkening. He steps closer to you, pulling you flush against him at the same time as his lips hover near your ear. He whispers quietly, voice laced with desire and it shoots straight to your core. “Oh, baby, are we not gonna be a good girl today?” He nudges against you, hand dipping from your hip to move around your lower back, inching further to grasp your backside. “Because I’m sure you remember what happens when you ain’t being good.” 

“But, what if I like being bad?” 

“Then don’t whine and beg for me to let you come,” Hugh says with a husky voice. You can feel chills wash over your body as you pull back to look up at him, eyes narrowing in his direction. “Now, meet me in the car. I’ll be there shortly.” 

You want to call his bluff, but you just want him so badly that you move away with a huff. “Fine,” you tell him, turning around to grab your bag. He reaches for your hand for a moment, his touch soft and gentle in comparison to the words he just said as he pulls you back to him. 

“Gimme a kiss at least.”

“So needy, so demanding,” you tell him, leaning up on your toes to peck his lips. 

“Yeah, we’ll see who’s needy later.” he replies almost instantly. 

—

The ride back to your apartment was quick. You can tell Hugh was trying to get back to your place in record time. His right hand remained on your upper thigh, but throughout the entire ride, he didn’t say anything. You know where his mind had drifted to, what he was probably thinking because when you reached over to rest your own hand on his thigh, he just grabbed your wrist and pushed it away. 

“No, baby,” was all he said. The moment he pulls into his parking spot at your apartment complex, he quickly climbs out to grab your bags from the trunk. You step out of the car and begin walking towards your door, looking over your shoulder at Hugh whose eyes are staring directly at you.

And once inside your apartment, Hugh drops both of your bags and shuts the door with his foot. The moment you both remove your shoes, Hugh is on you. His arms wrap around your waist, head dipping down to press light kisses on the side of your neck. He pulls you flush against him and he hears you gasp, knowing that you can feel his hardening length beneath his shorts. 

“Hugh…” you whimper, arms snaking around his shoulders. “Can we–”

“Shh,” Hugh interrupts, lifting you in his arms as you quickly wrap your legs around his waist. He begins walking down the hallway towards your bedroom until he feels your lips on his neck, gently biting down and sucking on the skin afterwards. 

Suddenly, Hugh stops and turns you so that your back is pressed against the wall. He pulls back to look at you, grabbing your hands and pressing them roughly against the wall above your head. Your legs remain tightly wrapped around him, rolling your hips slowly as you yearn for friction, yearn to feel more of him. 

Hugh’s gaze is filled with lust as he stares at you, gripping your wrists as he leans forward, nose nudging against yours. “I should punish you for not listening to me earlier, for teasing me…” Hugh says, his breath fanning against your lips. 

“But?” you ask, tilting your head as you squeeze him closer to you. “But you’re too nice and won’t do that, right?” you smile, letting out a quiet giggle. 

Hugh shakes his head and rests his forehead against yours. “You’re really testing me, aren’t ya? And you know exactly what you’re doin’.”

“I have an idea,” you tell him, leaning in to gently nip at his lower lip. “How about we take a shower and… and see what happens?” 

Hugh lets out an involuntary groan, just thinking and imagining bending you over in your shower or even just holding you up in his arms like this while the water cascades down your bodies. He suddenly sets you back onto your feet, releasing your wrists as he looks down at you. 

“Lead the way then, baby.” 

“Yeah?” you ask excitedly, eyes lighting up in anticipation. Without waiting for him to reply, you grab his hand and lead him towards your bedroom and into the connected bathroom. Once inside, you release your hold on him and lean over the tub to let the water run so that it can heat up. You reach out to test the temperature, feeling the water hit your hand. When you turn back to Hugh, he’s already stripped down to his boxers with an obvious bulge beneath it. 

Your eyes take in his frame, moving along his chiseled and muscular upper body and down to the waistband of his boxers. You swallow quietly, hooking your thumbs into the waistband of your shorts and pulling it down your legs. Hugh stands there, watching you undress as he moves his boxers down his own legs. He lets out a groan of relief, hand immediately reaching down to grasp onto his throbbing length to stroke himself slowly. 

Your clothes pool at your ankles as you stand before him, completely naked and bare, watching as he strokes himself at the mere sight of you. You feel a wetness pool between your legs, throbbing and yearning to wrap around something. 

Hugh takes the initiative to step inside the shower, the water instantly hitting his sore muscles and the heat of the water doing its job to provide relief. He watches you step inside with him and immediately, he reaches out to grab you and pull you flush against him. The water cascades down both your bodies from above as you reach up to stroke back your wet hair and see Hugh do the same. You lean up on your toes and slowly press your lips against his, moving it almost instantly as you feel his manhood stir and throb against your lower abdomen.

His hands move down your wet back and to your backside, gripping both cheeks tightly in his large hands as he feels your breasts push against him. He’s throbbing so painfully that he knows he can’t tease you and drag this out long enough to have you begging because he needs to be inside of you now. 

Slowly, Hugh pulls away to look down at you. Eyes searching your own and it’s in this moment that Hugh feels like this can be something so much more than he expected it to be. He reaches up to cup your cheek, thumb brushing against you as the water continues to trickle down your bodies. 

“Absolutely beautiful,” he whispers. 

When Hugh’s gaze softens like this, eyes staring deeply into your own, it almost feels like you know what he’s thinking, what he wants to say but doesn’t. You feel his thumb move down your cheek until the pad of his thumb brushes lightly along your lower lip, causing your lips to part instinctively. 

“Hugh, I–” 

He interrupts you with a soft kiss on your lips. “I know, baby. I’m gonna take care of you.” Then, he turns you around, eyes drifting down your back to your backside. Hugh then moves a hand to your middle back and slowly guides you to bend over as you reach out to rest your hands on the shower wall in front of you. 

Hugh grasps himself and runs his tip along your folds, growling to himself. He uses his free hand to rest on your hip, fingertips digging into your flesh as he slowly slides into you. Your warmth and tightness surrounds him and he forces himself to keep the slow pace, your moans mixing in with the sounds of the water. He reaches up to take hold of your wet hair in his grasp, tilting your head slightly to the side so that he can see your face. 

You moan loudly at the feel of him stretching you out. You don’t think you’d ever get used to his size, but despite the painful stretch in the beginning, you know that your walls will slowly begin to give way for him. And you’re always dripping wet for him that he just slides right in and this is certainly no different. 

When Hugh fills you to the hilt, he has to remain still for a moment because you’re gripping him so tight that he knows once he starts to move, he won’t be able to stop until he reaches his high. But he suddenly feels you move back against him, eyes immediately drifting down to your backside as this position gives him such an amazing view. He moves his hand from your hair to your hip as both hands grip you and begin to move you back and forth on his hardened length. 

Your moans filter into the bathroom, the steam from the shower encompassing the entire bathroom. As Hugh pulls you back against him, he pushes his hips forward, groaning to himself at the sensation of your warmth. Hugh will never get enough of this, of you. He’s had plenty of conversations with Ryan about you, about how he can see himself falling so deeply in love with you that it not only scares him, but also excites him too. 

“Hugh…” you moan, reaching back to grab a hold of his forearm as your nails dig into the skin. His thrusts are slowly beginning to pick up in speed, the sound of skin slapping against one another now mixing in with the sounds of your moans and the water that has now turned cool. 

“Oh, baby,” Hugh groans, taking your hand and holding it firmly against your lower back. He pulls back, looking down at where you’re connected and it turns him on even more. Your slickness coats his entire length and he pushes back into you with ease, your walls giving way to his girth but still so tight around him.

You feel your body begin to tremble as Hugh’s thrusts bring you closer and closer to the edge. As you’re about to reach your high, you quickly pull away from him, his length slipping out of you with ease. You turn around to face him, biting your lower lip as Hugh looks at you with a confused look.

“You were close, weren’t you?” Hugh smirks, stepping closer to you. 

“Sorry, it was too much and I–”

Hugh presses his lips against yours and then lifts you up into his arms, allowing your legs to wrap around his waist with ease. He uses his free hand to reach down to grasp his base, lining himself at your entrance. He pressed your back against the shower wall as he slowly slides back into you, growling against your lips. 

Your arms wrap around his shoulders as your fingernails dig into the skin at his upper back. He wastes no time in thrusting up into you, his hands resting underneath you. He’s careful not to slip, even with the water continuing to run down but he needs you to to come, needs to see and hear you. Slowly, he pulls away from your lips, forehead instead resting against yours as your lips brush against his. 

“Come for me, baby,” Hugh whispers, driving his hips upwards. The muscles in his arms and chest flex as he holds you up against the wall, pulling his hips back only to push them back towards you, his length kissing that sweet spot within your depths repeatedly. 

Your walls begin to tighten around his length and you squeeze your legs even tighter around him to pull him closer to you as your nails drag down his back. “Hugh!” You hold onto him tightly, feeling his movements become more erratic. 

Hugh buries his face against the side of your neck, teeth dragging along your skin as he feels himself get closer and closer to the edge. He feels you tighten even further around him and he pulls out abruptly to shoot his release in the inside of your thigh. 

You stare at him, completely breathless as you lean forward to peck his lips lightly. “We didn’t even shower,” you tease, panting against him.

Hugh chuckles, nudging the tip of his nose against yours. “Worth it,” he replies. “And you called my bluff… I just couldn’t tease you and have you beg when all I wanted to do was just be inside of you.”

“Good…” you smile, slowly unwrapping your legs around his waist so that you can fully stand upright. Your legs feel a bit wobbly, bracing yourself on his shoulders as his hands move to your hips. “Because I’d have been a mess if you left me begging.”

“Mmm,” Hugh grins. “That doesn’t sound too bad. Maybe next time,” he winks. “Now, come on. Let’s get cleaned up, love.”

—

For the rest of the week, you’re spending it at Hugh’s place. It’s easy how you both can slip into a routine with each other and how well you both coexist. Even though this relationship is still very new and in the beginning stages, you’re starting to see exactly how easy you can fit into Hugh’s life. You still have some reservations, still nervous that this might not work out, but the more time you spend with him, the more you realize that this is something you’d want to give a chance for the possibility of being something greater than you ever imagined. 

You’re set to meet Ryan and Shawn tonight and you’re nervous. Knowing that Hugh would be there with you does ease your mind, but this is the first step in truly seeing if you can fit into his life. 

You’re in the kitchen, whisking pancake batter in a bowl to cook breakfast for you and Hugh. You’ve gotten used to wearing his clothes and this morning is no different because you’re just dressed in one of his black t-shirts and nothing but. You’re so deep in thought, focused solely on making breakfast that you don’t hear him coming down the stairs and it isn’t until you feel his arms wrap around you from behind that it pulls you out of your trance. 

“Morning, baby,” he whispers, leaning down to kiss the side of your neck. “Making me breakfast?”

“Mhm,” you nod. “Protein pancakes and then some scrambled eggs.” 

You turn your head and kiss his cheek, smiling in his direction before you continue to whisk the batter. 

“You spoil me,” he smiles. “I’m going on a run with a few friends, but I should be back by the time you’re done.” Hugh then pulls away from you to grab a glass of water as you turn to look at him. He’s dressed in a fitted white t-shirt and a pair of black sweatpants, tennis shoes, and a hat. Your eyes take in his frame, lingering at his arms and chest and down his legs. It isn’t until he clears his throat that you finally look up at him who’s staring at you with a knowing smirk. 

“What’s on your mind, hm?” Hugh grins. 

“You just look…” you bite your lower lip, reaching down to play with the end of your (his) t-shirt. “I like seeing you in a white t-shirt and the one you’re wearing is literally about to rip. It’s so tiny!” 

“It is not,” Hugh chuckles, eyes lingering on your frame as well. “I’m just getting bigger…”

“Oh, I’ve noticed,” you grin and walk towards him, hands running across his chest as you feel him flex underneath your fingertips. “I like you either way, but seeing you get into shape as Wolverine again is just…” 

Hugh leans down and pecks your lips, hand moving down to your hip. “Oh, I know. You practically stare at me every chance you get.” 

“Do you blame me?” 

“Not at all…” Hugh smiles, staring deeply into your eyes. “But that’s only because I stare at you every chance I get too.” 

“We’re quite the pair, aren’t we?” 

“I’d say the best pair,” Hugh says softly. “You ready for tonight?” 

You shrug and move your arms to wrap around his shoulders. “No, I’m nervous… But I think knowing that you’ll be there helps a bit.”

“Just a bit?”

You smile. “Oh yeah, a very tiny bit.” 

Hugh’s eyes narrow. “If I’m only gonna help a tiny bit, then I might as well not go with you.”

“No!” you say immediately, shaking your head. “Don’t do that. I need you there.”

“Ah, so more than a tiny bit.”

“Yes,” you laugh quietly. “Since you’ll be there, I know I’ll be okay.” 

“You’d be okay with or without me there,” Hugh reassures. “But I’m happy to spend time with you, Ryan, and Shawn tonight.”

“It’s going to be very casual, right?”

Hugh nods. “Very casual.” he pecks your lips lightly and then pulls away. “I better get going. I’ll be back soon, baby.” 

“Have a good run, Hugh,” you tell him, hands slowly sliding down his arms before you move back to the task at hand. Your eyes focus on whisking the batter as you move around in his kitchen to grab the necessary things you need to complete breakfast. Hugh watches you for a brief moment, eyes filled with so much love and appreciation that for a split second, he wants so badly to tell you what has been on his mind since his last trip. 

But he doesn’t. 

Not yet. 

—

You’re staring at yourself in the mirror, dressed in a pair of high waisted denim pants with a black, loose fit collared v-neck knitted sweatshirt. Your makeup remains light and natural and you play nervously with the black belt on your pants. 

Hugh comes up from behind you, dressed just as casually in a pair of black jeans, black t-shirt with a black bomber jacket over. He wraps his arms around you from behind, resting his chin against the side of your neck. 

“You look amazing.” Hugh smiles. “You ready to go?” 

“I’m nervous,” you admit. “Not only do I want them to like my work, but there’s a bit of added pressure because they know we’re together and they’re both your closest friends and–”

Hugh quietly hushes you with a gentle kiss against your temple. “They already like your work,” he reassures you. “And I talk about you all the time. It’s like they already know you.” 

“I don’t know if that helps me or not,” you tell him honestly. “I just–” You turn around to face him, looking up at him. “I just really like you and I want to get along with your friends, even if they are really fucking famous and–”

“Stop,” Hugh says, gently resting his hands on your hips. “Just think of it as a night out with friends. We’re gonna grab dinner and a couple of drinks and then call it a night.” 

“What if you realize that I’m actually not all that great and then rethink this entire relationship?”

“Okay,” Hugh sighs quietly and rests his forehead against yours, eyes staring deeply into yours. “I like you, a lot, baby. I know this is still new for us, but there’s nothing I want more than to be with you.” He brings a hand up to your cheek, thumb brushing against your soft skin. “Just be you.”

“But what if–”

“Nope,” he interrupts. “What does our trainer tell you?” He tilts his head, eyes gazing into your own. “Ah, yes. Self-talk, baby. You gotta treat yourself just as kindly as I see you treat others.” 

“Okay,” you nod, letting out a quiet sigh. “We should probably go before I talk myself out of it.” 

“Oh, I wouldn’t let you back out,” Hugh smiles, taking your hand and leading you out of the bathroom. Your heels click against the tile floor as you follow Hugh downstairs. “We’re taking a car tonight. I know you still want to keep this relationship under wraps from press, so I figured–”

“Thank you, Hugh.” you say softly, following him out of his house and towards the black SUV parked out front. “You think of everything, don’t you?”

“I just want my girl to be comfortable and happy,” Hugh smiles. 

My girl. 

You slide into the car and immediately greet the driver, who looks at you from the rearview mirror with a shocked expression. Hugh slides in right next to you and shuts the door, hearing you make small talk with the driver and he smiles to himself. It baffles him how kind, sweet, and considerate you are to other people, but to yourself, it’s a very different story. He wishes he can make you see just how amazing you are or make you see the way he sees you. 

Hugh also chimes in on the conversation as the driver begins driving away from Hugh’s house and towards the city. His hand moves to rest on your thigh, looking down at you with a small smile on his lips. He leans in and kisses the side of your head, feeling your hand move to cover his own. 

It doesn’t take long before you and Hugh arrive at the restaurant. You look outside and let out a breath of relief, glad that you don’t see one paparazzi as Hugh steps out first. He reaches a hand out for you and you tell the driver to have a good night before you take Hugh’s hand and climb out after him. 

He leads you inside and immediately spots Ryan and Shawn at the corner of the restaurant, waving in both of your directions.

“Just be you,” Hugh repeats, whispering into your ear as you follow closely behind him. 

“Well, look who finally decided to show up,” Ryan teases, hugging Hugh as you bite your lower lip. You watch him greet Shawn before he turns to you, a large smile on his lips. He rests a hand on your lower back, urging you closer to the table. 

“And this is…” Hugh smiles, saying your name as he introduces you to Ryan and Shawn.

“Okay, you’ve told us a lot about her, but you didn’t say she was this beautiful,” Ryan replies, causing a quiet chuckle to escape Hugh’s lips. You feel heat rise in your cheeks as you instinctively lean against Hugh for comfort, for support. 

Just be you. 

Just be you.

Just be you.

You take a deep breath and then reach your hand to shake Shawn and Ryan’s hands, smiling up at them. “I’m eager to hear what things he’s said about me if beautiful wasn’t part of it,” you tease. 

Hugh shakes his head and pulls out your chair, waiting until you sit down before he takes his spot next to you. Ryan and Shawn sit across from you, already each with a drink in front of them. 

“I like you,” Ryan chuckles. “I’m Ryan.” 

“I’m Shawn.”

You smile and feel Hugh’s hand move to rest casually on your thigh. You don’t realize how much it brings you comfort and you glance up at him for a moment before you turn your attention to Shawn and Ryan. 

“I’m a huge fan of you both… And I’m excited to join you for the movie,” you tell them. 

“Oh, Hugh’s shown us some of your work and it’s impressive. I can’t believe you only do engagement shoots,” Shawn says, his eyes lighting up. “I mean, those are great too, but your landscapes and street photography are amazing.” 

“I still can’t believe it,” you tell him, laughing quietly. “I mean, I’m just a woman with a camera–”

“Who takes fucking awesome pictures,” Ryan finishes for you. 

“He’s right. We’re excited to have you join us too.” Shawn adds. 

Hugh smiles proudly in your direction, looking around the table as you continue to have a conversation with both Ryan and Shawn. He envisioned this so clearly, how well you fit in in his life and to see it firsthand, it makes him feel the love he has for you bloom in his heart. 

He looks over at Ryan, who’s staring back at him with a knowing grin. Hugh narrows his eyes, tilting his head before he interrupts you and Shawn briefly. 

“Ryan and I are gonna grab a drink at the bar. What d’ya want, baby?” 

“White wine, love,” you say almost instantly, your pet name for him coming out naturally that it causes you to blush. 

Hugh grins at that and then stands up with Ryan, walking towards the bar. He feels Ryan place a firm hand on his shoulder and he looks over at the other man, letting out a quiet chuckle. 

“Okay, out with it. I know you have something to say.”

“What? Me?” Ryan playfully gasps then laughs quietly. “I’ve got nothing,” he lies.

Hugh’s eyes narrow. “We both know that’s a lie. What is it?” 

Ryan smiles genuinely. “You’re happy.” 

“I am, mate. She makes me happy,” Hugh replies almost too quickly. He glances over his shoulder at you, seeing you in such natural conversation with Shawn. He doesn’t see the tension in your shoulders, doesn’t see the concern or anxiety in your features; you’re completely relaxed and comfortable. 

“And she’s great,” Ryan adds. 

“She is, isn’t she?” Hugh smiles. “I think…” he sighs, biting the inside of his cheek. “I think I’m falling in love with her, Ryan.” 

“Oh, I could have told you that,” he chuckles. “Does she know?” 

Hugh shakes his head. “No, no. It’s still too early. I don’t– I don’t want to scare her away.” 

Once at the bar, Ryan raises a hand in the air to get the bartender’s attention before he turns back to look at Hugh. “Well, something tells me that she probably feels the same way.” 

“You don’t know that, mate.” 

“Hugh,” Ryan says. “Do you not see the way she looks at you?” 

Hugh looks over at you, catching your gaze briefly. He feels the warmth in his chest at the sight of you smiling in his direction. He winks over at you before he turns to Ryan. “It’s still too early,” he repeats. “I’ll tell her when… when I think the moment is right.” 

Before Ryan can reply, the bartender comes by and Hugh tells him your drink order and his. After a few minutes, he thanks the bartender as he and Ryan make his way back to the table and realizes that you aren’t at the table. 

“She went to the bathroom,” Shawn tells them, then he turns to Hugh with a grin. “Hugh, she’s amazing.” 

Hugh smiles, sitting down. He looks over at the hallway towards the bathrooms, seeing you walk down the hallway as you begin making your way back to them, back to him. 

“Yeah, she is,” he says, voice laced with so much love and appreciation as his eyes stay locked on yours. “I don’t think I’m ever letting her go.”

---

taglist (if links don't work, i'm sorry!): @corvusmorte - @dragonqueen89 - @whimsiwitchy - @kellyxo1 - @wolviehugh - @moonxknightx - @sullyselena - @angelofthorr - @spectorrrhgf - @needz1nk - @fandomxo00 - @godlypresley - @kythefangirl25 - @callsignyourmom - @sue8724 - @squishyfruitloop - @sylviavf - @emotrash1 - @dissentientss - @sir-thisisadndserver - @absolutepie - @millajay

[yeoldenews]

I'm really loving your #tbt posts lately (which I assume might come from your queue). Thanks for keeping the historical interest flowing. One question: I'd love to know who the family is in the Minnesota photos. I assume you wrote about them in the past, if you have a personal source for the pictures. (My grandfather and his family were from Minnesota, and I recently viewed some photos of them.)

I wish I knew! Unfortunately this is one of several "white whale" albums I've purchased over the years with absolutely no written identification in them, and one of only two I haven't had any luck tracking down any individual people in the photos.

My current best guess is that the album is of a young adults group from the English Lutheran Church of the Redeemer in St. Paul, and was taken in the summer/fall of 1897 or 1898. There is one photo of a group in front of a church with a partial sign visible behind them which I was able to match to that church. I did some additional research and found that the church group did regular summer outings to many tourist spots and lakes in the St. Paul area.

I was able to additionally pinpoint the location to the St. Paul area due to the waterslide in the background of this image and a visible sign for the Nevers Dam (on the MN/WI border) in another.

I compiled a list of a dozen or so people who attended the church at the time (from newspaper mentions of various events at the church) but so far haven't had any luck matching any of those people to the individuals in the album.

It's a great album, about 40 or so pictures in total and I believe it was likely developed at home by an amateur photographer. None of the photos are mounted, being printed on very thin paper, and several have hand applied mats added to the exposures to change the shape - as seen above.

Snapshots from the 1890s are my absolute favorite photographs as personal photography was still in its infancy, and people were still figuring out what exactly to do with the cameras the now had access to. Many of the images are still posed like studio portraits, but you can see the very beginnings of people starting to get creative with what they chose to capture.

[libraford]

I understand, fundamentally, why the school photo place was so mercenary about certain things- like getting it 100% right in the camera, making sure your camera doesn't show the floor or go off the background, lighting Must Be Exact Or Else, etc.

Because when you're processing upwards 2000 photos per job, it does get a little laborious to fix all the mistakes.

But now that I'm doing some studio work of my own and I see the mistakes that I made on my first run, I do NOT understand how EACH mistake (most of which can be amended with cropping) cost our location $2 in labor and why I was scolded so often for minor problems.

The franchise doesn't take professional photographers. It takes non-professionals who may have never touched a camera in their lives, and trains them. Chewing them out over mistakes familiar to amateurs is unnecessary.

And let's take the reality of it:

It doesn't matter how long you train- any person that has to get up at 3 in the morning to drive to location and then spend 8 hours in a hot gym, where they may not get a lunch break because we're on the school's schedule not the company's schedule... they're going to make amateur mistakes.

[feelbokkie]

L♡VE IN F♡CUS | Chapter 4

PAIRING: idol!Changbin x fem reader

WARNINGS: mention of food/eating, one swear word, some angst

GENRE: smau, crack, angst, fluff

P♡V: 1st/2nd person (depending on how you view it)

SUMMARY: Amateur concert photographer Y/n has recently been promoted to junior music journalist. Her first assignment? An exposé on the popular Kpop boy group, Stray Kids. Spending an entire tour doing in depth interviews with eight men seems simple enough, but one member isn't exactly open to the idea. Will Y/n be able to break down the walls around his heart, or will her big break turn into a big disaster?

TAGLIST: closed

W♡RD C♡UNT: 4,981

SCREENSH♡T C♡UNT: 15

A/N: sorry for disappearing without a word

PREVIOUS | MASTERLIST | NEXT

©feelbokkie (2024) — all rights reserved. reposting/modification of any kind is not tolerated.

“So, how does all this work?” You ask from the couch behind the set of chairs Chan and Changbin are currently sitting in, a third one is empty between the two of them.

“Like producing or all of the buttons?” Chan asks, spinning around in the chair to give you all of his attention.

“You can explain the buttons if you want,” You adjust yourself comfortably on the couch, making sure to find a way to sit so you can take notes without hurting your back later. “But I meant producing.”

The three of you are currently sitting in a recording studio that the company rented for the group to use on their last day in Sydney. One of the inclusions that everyone agreed on is a mini CD-R of each member's solo song from the tour, and one rerecorded song for the group version broken up into a special racha version. The boys wanted to get the recording as quickly as they could before they got too tired from touring, which is why you're up at the earliest time you've needed to be so far.

Chan starts to roll up the sleeve of his black hoodie, thinking for a moment. "Well, when Han gets here--"

"If Han gets here. I guarantee you that he's still asleep right now." Changbin whines, his voice still heavy from sleep.

"I'll send a text to the group chat in a second to have one of the other kids swing by his room before they come over." Chan rubs his eyes as he pulls his phone out of his pocket and sets it on the table behind him. "We can do the first two songs without him right now I guess."

"They're just the solo songs so we can manage." Changbin yawns. You can't tell if he's telling you or reassuring Chan.

"Yeah, you're right. Anyway," He pulls off his cham and fixes his hair before placing it back on. "Someone will be in the recording booth with headphones that play the backing track while everyone else can hear from the speakers in here. Basically, everyone out here is listening to make sure that the recording goes well. That whoever is in the booth is keeping pitch, or pronouncing everything correctly, and so forth. Or if something doesn't sound right, we can fix it right then and there. It's not always in one go though so sometimes we have to take the best bits of each take and splice them together."

"And then you take the mostly recorded track and do whatever tweaking needs to be done in post?" You question as you write down what Chan explained.

"Exactly! Someone's been doing their homework." Chan claps once loudly in excitement, the sudden noise causes Changbin to jump in his seat.

"I've always been a good student." You smirk to yourself as you look through your questions to ask. "I've watched some of your recording sessions on YouTube. You--"

The door swings open, stealing all of your attention. On the other side, Jisung stands holding four coffees in a carrier in one hand and another, larger iced coffee in the other. He's mostly hidden away in a large beanie that falls just above his eyes, a matching black face mask, an oversized hoodie, and baggy grey cargo pants.

"I know I'm late, but I bought an apology gift." He says, holding up the drink carrier.

"More like a bribe." Chan laughs, turning the seat next to around so that Jisung can sit in it.

"Here you go, noona." Jisung hands you one of the iced coffees before taking his seat between Chan and Changbin.

"I can be bought." You joke as you take the drink.

You watch as Jisung settles into his seat, handing both Chan and Changbin their drinks before placing the remaining fifth cup on the table behind them. Chan takes a sip of the coffee and turns back to you. "Noona, you were asking us a question."

"I'll ask it later. You guys have a lot of work ahead of you. I'll be like a fly on the wall from this moment forward."

All three of them nod in agreement. Recoding nine songs in one day isn't impossible but it is a lot of work. The three of them turn around again and discuss something briefly that you can't hear. Unsure of what else to do, you recheck your notes as they talk, trying your best to give them privacy in the too-small room.

"Ah, I'm suddenly nervous to record this song!" Chan laughs nervously while throwing his head back.

"We've all seen you perform it seven times already." Jisung pats him on the back to reassure him.

"Yeah but..." His voice trails off as he slowly makes eye contact with you as he spins around.

"You're nervous because of me?" You point to yourself for confirmation.

"Well, the song is a bit..." His voice trails off again, scratching the back of his increasingly red neck.

"Oh, so you can take your shirt off in front of Stay but you can't sing the song in front of noona?" Changbin teases.

"At this point, noona is like my sister. So it's..."

"I'm pretty sure your actual sister was in the audience this weekend. Your entire family really." You remind him.

"Oh my God," He sighs, burying his head in his hands.

"Ah, Bang Chan! Just hurry up and go in the booth already!" Changbin yells, getting annoyed and dropping all formalities with his leader.

"Okay, okay!" He gets up and takes one more sip of his coffee. "It's a song about trains anyway so I don't know what I'm getting worked up about."

"Hyung, be so fucking for real right now. We're all adults here. Just--"

Smack!

"Ow! What was that for." Jisung rubs the spot on his thigh that Changbin just smacked.

Changbin doesn't say anything. Instead, he nods in your direction, warning the younger man that you're still listening. You roll your eyes and raise your hand up. "It's off the record, don't worry."

After some punches to the air, Chan finally makes his way into the recording booth. He places the large headphones over his ears and pulls a piece of paper out of his pocket. He unfolds the paper and then places it on the music stand in front of him. He signals for you to turn around and cover your ears with a sheepish smile. You respond by shaking your head 'no' and snapping a quick picture of him with your camera.

Jisung gets up from his seat and takes the seat that Chan was sitting in earlier. He pats his previous seat with his hand while looking through the papers in front of him. "Noona, sit here. Come be an honorary member of 3racha."

"I promise you that your careers are safer if I sit back here." You chuckle slightly.

"Then come up here and keep us company. It feels weird sitting here with just two of us. Feels like if Cerberus was missing a head."

"That's a bit dramatic, no?" You question as you gather your things.

"It's 3racha. You need all three of us. Cerberus is just a two-headed dog without the third head. Or worse, a regular dog. 2racha isn't a real thing." Jisung says with a faraway look in his eyes. You can almost see a glint of fondness as he thinks back about something.

"Can I quote you on that?" You ask as you set your things on the table.

"Technically Vocalracha is 2racha," Changbin interjects. Without looking up from the papers he's now flipping through, he pulls out Jisung's chair for you to sit on. Without hesitation, you quietly thank him while taking the seat.

"That's not the same thing and you know it hyung." Jisung whines, stomping his feet on the floor, gently shaking the table.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

All three of your heads snap up at Chan who is now mouthing something at you.

"Oh, his mic is off," Changbin says while he looks at the set of buttons spread out across the table.

"Hold on, this system is different from the one we're used to. Everything is in English too."

"They showed us how to use the equipment earlier but I forgot which one is the mic on and off button," Changbin explains.

Your eyes scan the table and find the button labeled 'microphone on/off'. Afraid of accidentally hitting something and messing with the entire system, you quietly point to it. Changbin follows your finger and presses the button without any hesitation. You hold your breath for a moment, scared that you might have found the wrong button. All three of you stare at Chan while Jisung signals for him to talk.

"Is my mic on now?" Chan asks softly.

All three of you let out a sigh of relief before Jisung presses the intercom button in front of him and leans into the mic. "Yeah, hyung. We can hear you now, loud and clear."

"Okay, good. Are we good to start now? I want to get my song over with before the other kids get here." Chan teeters back and forth on his feet and swings his arms back and forth like a child waiting for their parent to get done talking to their friend. It's an insane image of a man who is about to sing a song that is definitely not about railways.

Jisung turns to look at Changbin who is looking at a little piece of paper in front of him. You can see small diagrams of buttons and little notes on them in Korean that you're almost certain he wrote himself. He gives Jisung a thumbs-up as his finger hovers over one of the buttons.

"Yeah, we're going to start now, hyung," Jisung tells him before sliding the intercom away from him.

Chan resumes his position in front of the microphone. He flashes all three of you an innocent smile before signaling that he's ready to start. Both you and Jisung watch Changbin as he presses one of the buttons. Soon after, the opening notes of "Railway" play over the speaker in the room. Chan makes a motion pointing up which causes Changbin to scramble as he looks for another button while referring to his little cheat sheet. Changbin presses the button and Chan gives him another thumbs-up before singing the opening lines of the song.

You sit quietly between the two younger members of 3racha as they work, careful to not distract them. You've been with them for two months, but this is the most serious you've seen them. Most of the time, they're goofing off and picking on each other or the other members. Changbin quietly nods along to the music while reading the lyrics sitting in front of him. Every few seconds he writes a little note on the page. Jisung is also reading along with the lyrics. After Chan finishes the first verse, he waits patiently while drinking water as Jisung and Changbin quietly discuss among themselves what parts they should have him fix. After a few minutes, they go over what went well and what he can do to improve. Chan nods along before the three of them rerecord the first verse. After the second recording, they replay both versions of the recording for Chan to hear. This time Chan seems a bit dissatisfied and asks if he can try one more time. Once more, the opening notes play and Chan redoes the first verse. During the review of the third take, all three of them are satisfied and go to the next verse.

This process continues for each verse, chorus, and adlib until all three of them, but most importantly Chan, are happy with the final product. Afterwards, Chan switches places with Jisung and it starts all over again. Jisung's recording goes a bit faster than Chan's due to fewer notes from the other two producers in the room. While Jisung records, both Chan and Changbin are quietly explaining everything to you so you have a bit more context of what's going on. After Jisung is done, he takes Chan's seat again while Chan moves over to Changbin's seat so they can record the next song. Changbin's recording took the longest of the three because of how much he was joking around. After that, they managed to get started on the 3racha hip-hop version of "Runners," all while spending more time messing around than focusing. Still, the three of them are done in nearly two hours.

For a moment, you're left alone in the recording studio while the three men take their break outside of the room. You sit quietly on the couch, your new permanent spot now that all three producers are done recording, and add to your notes about the experience. You don't notice at first that Changbin is the first one back in the room. He's quiet for a moment as he reclaims his spot at the end of the table.

"It's not as fun and glamorous as our recording session videos, huh?" Changbin asks quietly, finally breaking his silence.

You slowly lift your head up and blink at him, confused for a moment. You don't think there's been a moment where he's spoken to you first before. At least, not unprompted. Not without another member being in the room.

Changbin continues to stare at you, waiting for your answer. You shake your head and put your notebook aside, "No, I think it's very interesting. I'm learning a lot about making music and you three in general. I really love music so seeing how it's made is really fun."

Changbin slowly nods his head as he spins back around. You roll your eyes as you pick up your notebook again. A few seconds later, Changbin turns around again. You freeze midsentence, waiting for him to say something.

"Do you want to experience the other side of it?" His expression is soft and genuine. You've only seen this expression on his face when he's with his members, never with you. Then again, you haven't been alone with him yet. Maybe the overprotective, intimidating part of him is an act.

"What?" You set your notebook aside once again, "Like, inside the recording booth?"

"Yeah," While his face is softer towards you than you're used to seeing, he still refuses to smile. "For your article. You're still writing that, right? In addition to everything else?"

"I am still writing the article. And I'd love to step inside the booth." Notebook in hand, you follow as Changbin stands up and leads you to the door you've watched all three of them go through.

You wait patiently as you watch Changbin adjust the height of the mic for you. After a few moments, he quietly leaves the room and takes his spot back in front of the soundboard. He motions for you to put the headphones on.

The recording booth is smaller on the inside than you imagined. Much more stuffy, hotter than the room you were just in. It must have something to do with all the soundproofing that needs to be done. You roll up the sleeves of your sweater while you look around the room, taking in every little detail.

"Noona, can you hear me?" Changbin's voice rings through the headphones.

"Yeah," You turn, giving your full attention to the man on the other end of the glass. You always thought that there was a speaker overhead that was connected to the intercom in the other room.

"Good," He nods as he takes a sip of his now watered-down coffee. "I'm going to play something so you can hear what it's like."

You give him a thumbs up as you watch him search through Chan's laptop. After a moment, finding what he's looking for, he turns to look back up at you. "So you're going to hear a quick-timing beat and then the music is going to start."

You wait while watching Changbin as three ticks of what sounds like a metronome play in your ear right before the instrumental track for "Runners" starts. Your head bobs along to the music as you mentally sing the lyrics of the song you've heard countless times. The music is so loud, you're almost certain your heartbeat changed to match the tempo.

Just as soon as the song starts, it ends right when the first verse should end. You quickly grab your notebook and jot down a few notes before looking back at Changbin again.

"Is it always like this? Like," You pause for a moment, trying to find the right words. "is it always just the backing track? I've heard that some artist hear their own voice too."

"You can hear your own voice if you want it that way but it can get a bit confusing so we don't. Some artists will have their guide playing if they have one or a metronome to keep the tempo. If we're layering or doing adlibs then we'll have what we've already recorded playing instead to make it easier for us and the person mixing the track."

"I see," A million more questions float into your mind as you take note of what Changbin just told you. But you decide to keep them to yourself for now. You still have a few more hours before the day is over.

"Do you want to record for real?" Changbin asks suddenly.

You pause for a moment, contemplating his question. It would be a bucket list item you would be able to scratch off the list. But the idea of performing a--song let alone performing a song in front of the original artist--is intimidating. "I can't sing,"

"We have autotune," He says as the corner of his mouth twitches up into a smirk that he can't hide.

You bite your lower lip as you think about the next time an opportunity like this will happen again. With your career, it probably won't happen again in this lifetime.

"Okay, but no laughing."

"Well, not in front of you."

"I changed my mind." You go to pull the headphones off and go back into the main room.

"I'm kidding, I'll be nice. I promise." He says quickly, his infectious laughter ringing through your ears. "What song do you want to do?"

"'Runners' is fine." You breathe as you readjust the headphones on your head.

Changbin does something on the laptop for a moment, probably turning on the autotune for you, and then makes an 'okay' symbol letting you know he's ready to go.

You say a silent prayer that you don't completely embarrass yourself in front of Changbin or any of the other members who are bound to walk back into the studio at any moment as the metronome chimes in your ears again. As the song starts, your voice is a bit shakier than you hoped. It's one thing to pretend to be an idol recording a song in the shower. It's an entirely different beast standing in a real recording booth while singing in front of an actual idol.

The song goes on longer than it did when Changbin was showing you how it sounded earlier. He's probably letting you go for as long as you can before cutting you off. Unfortunately for him, and his ears, you know the entire song.

Claps erupt in your ears just as the song finishes. You turn to the side to see that Chan and Jisung have returned from their break and that both Seungmin and Jeongin have also arrived. You quickly rip off your headphones, grab your notebook, and leave the booth with your eyes on the floor so that none of the boys can see how red your face is. You're not sure when any of them came in, and for your sake, it might be better that you didn't know.

"Wow, noona, do you want to join us in Vocalracha?" Jeongin jokes as you take your spot back on the couch.

"I think Vocalracha has enough members, thank you very much."

"Just switch places with Seungmin, nobody will notice the difference," Jisung suggests as he takes his seat next to Changbin.

"I'll notice," Seungmin deadpans as he takes the spot next to you on the couch.

"Does that mean I'll be Vocalracha leader then?" Jeongin's eyes light up with a mischievous twinkle.

"I think for noona's sake, you shouldn't be the leader. You'll run it like the military." Chan laughs, ruffling Jeongin's hair. In return, Jeongin pushes him hard enough to cause him to stumble.

Jeonging climbs over both your and Seungmin’s legs to get to the empty seat near the couch in the corner. "And Seungmin hyung doesn't?"

"I'm nice to you, why are you lying? Spend a day in danceracha with Lee Know hyung and you'll be crawling back to me, begging for forgiveness." Seungmin pouts.

Jeongin him off while pulling his phone out of his pocket. "I bow for no one,"

"You bow for Stay." Chan reminded the youngest man.

"That's different. I respect Stay." He replies without missing a beat.

"You don't respect me?" Seungmin asks, his mouth drops open, feigning shock.

Jeongin turns to Seungmin and points at himself. "Maknae on top,"

"Guys," Changbin warns. Both Seungmin and Jeongin turn to the older man, confused by the sudden warning. Changbin only replies by nodding in your direction.

And just like that, he's back to putting a wall between you and the entire group.

"Noona knows that we're only joking," Seungmin says softly, turning back to you with soft eyes. Almost like he's apologizing on Changbin's behalf. "Don't you, Y/n noona?"

"I vaguely remember one or more of you saying something about how Jeongin would be scary if he was one of the hyungs so..." You tease as you pretend to flip through your notebook. You slightly glance up and make eye contact with a worried Changbin. "I'm only joking, I know Jeongin has a soft spot for each of you and to take what you guys say with a grain of salt. Like when Seungmin says he hates you, he doesn't really--"

Seungmin throws his hand in front of your mouth, not close enough to touch you, but enough to get you to stop talking. "Hey, hey, hey, no need to expose me like that, noona."

"Okay, okay, well leave the two maknaes alone." Chan laughs, as he takes his seat next to Jisung. "Which one of you wants to go first? Or did you want to start by doing Vocalracha's 'Runners,' drama version?"

"I'll go first. Someone spent the whole car ride worried about doing his sexy concept in front of noona." Seungmin sighs as he gets up and walks straight into the booth.

"Hey," Jeongin cries, looking up from his phone.

"I'd like to remind everyone that I've already seen all of your stages. Multiple times. I've already seen the belly buttons and abs and heard all of the lyrics enough times in the past two months for you to not be worried." You reassure him.

"Couldn't be me," Chan clears his throat as he turns back around. You can see how quickly his neck and ears are getting red just before he pulls his hood over his head.

"You are the biggest offender, don't lie." Jisung laughs while hitting Chan on the shoulder.

"Seungmin, are you ready?" Chan changes the subject as Seungmin pulls his headphones on. Seungmin responds by making a silly face and doing a thumbs-up.

***

The rest of the day pretty much goes how it did earlier. Seungmin got done with his recording almost as quickly, if not faster than Jisung did earlier. Jeongin took a bit longer because he nitpicked each of his takes to make sure they were perfect. By the time they were done with their solos and recording "Runners," drama version it was time for lunch and the remaining three members of the group came with food for everyone. After lunch, Danceracha got started with their version of "Runners" before doing their solo recordings.

You tried to focus as well as you could but with the room full, there was always something happening on the side that always caught your attention. The other members only got scolded by Chan, Changbin, and Jisung, who were in full producer mode, a handful of times for their volume or overall playful antics. And while the day didn't feel like it lasted that long, when you checked your phone, it was basically dinner time.

"Alright, Lee Know-ssi, you're all done." Chan yawns into the microphone. You are almost certain he didn't get much sleep last night after the two of you spent the entire day exploring Sydney for his solo zine.

"Thank god!" The second oldest yells as he quickly pulls off his headphones and joins all eight of you in the main room.

With nowhere left to sit, Minho sits on Changbin's feet. Nobody else is phased by it, and after spending time with the group, it doesn't puzzle you as much as it once did.

"Hyung, get off," Changbin whines.

Minho tilts his head back and looks at Changbin innocently. "Why?"

"Never mind," Changbin mumbles as he gently pushes Minho's head back forward.

You do your best to hide the smirk threatening you appear on your face as you pack up your equipment. You didn't use much today, just your camera and your notebook. But still, you make sure to disconnect the lens from the camera and over both of them with the appropriate caps and then slide them into your bag. You close your notebook with a satisfying tap and put the pen into the wire spiral before putting it into your bag. Satisfied that you packed everything, you stand up and sling your bag over your shoulder.

"If none of you have any plans, we can all head out to dinner for our last night in Australia?" You ask softly.

You want to treat the boys after a long day of work that you know they wouldn't have had if it wasn't for you. It's the least you can do. That is if you can find a way to pay without them knowing or trying to beat you to it.

"A little bit later? There's something the kids and I have to talk about first. If you don't mind waiting, it'll take about an hour. You can go ahead and wait at the hotel if you want." Chan says while stretching his arms in front of him.

You nod with a smile. "That's fine. We can also go another day too. No rush. Have during your meeting. Or text me if you still want to go."

Trying not to trip, you slightly knock into Felix's leg as you leave. You give them one final wave goodbye just as you leave.

You walk to the entrance of the studio, passing by a few random people entering the building. Deciding to stay cool, you wait in the lobby and dig around your bag, looking for your phone so you can call a car service to bring you back to the hotel.

Panic slowly sets in when you don't feel your phone in your bag. You check your pockets quickly before emptying your bag on the couch in the lobby. Pens, gum, your headphones, camera, notebook, wallet, and a bit of trash fall out. But not your phone. You think for a moment, you could have sworn that you put your phone in your bag. You checked the time, set it on the arm of the couch, and then...

It's still in the studio. You shove everything back in your bag. No longer panicking, you move slowly. You could wait around for the group to be done with their meeting and grab your phone so you don't disrupt them. But waiting for an hour, with nothing more to do feels a bit daunting. You could try to head back to the hotel and see if you could ask one of the staff members to message one of the members to grab your phone but the key to your room is in the back of your phone case. And with the security precautions in place for the group, you're almost certain you're not going to be able to get a spare key from the front desk.

"Here," Someone mutters furiously under their breath.

You turn around quickly, only to be met face to face with Changbin, his other hand clenched tightly in a fist. Even with his jaw clenched, you can see spasms of irritation across his face.

"T-thank you," You stutter as you take your phone from him.

Without saying a word, he turns back around and starts walking back to the studio. Halfway he stops, turns back around, and walks back towards you quickly.

"If you're going to bug us, you should learn to hide your phone better." He growls in a low voice.

"Excuse me?" You scoff in disbelief at the accusation.

You thought that you had Changbin figured out. That he's lovely in general but he's protective of the group. But now, as he stares at you with his nostrils flared and pure anger in his eyes, you fear that everything about him is an act.

Before you can explain yourself or even try to diffuse the tension between the two of you, Changbin disappears back into the hallway again.

You tightly grip your phone as you hold back your screams of frustration. You take a few deep breaths to calm yourself down, ignoring the needle pricks of anger stabbing the back of your eyes. Once you've calmed down enough, you pull up the car service app on your phone and order a ride back to the hotel.

—

Buy me a coffee?

—

TAG LIST (closed)

Red means that it wouldn't let me tag you (either at all or properly)

@amyyscorner @puppysmileseungmin @lixie-phoria @yongbbokkie @spearb-99 

@weird-bookworm @stayconnecteed @brain-empty-only-draken @hanniemylovelyquokka @sunshinessky 

@marked-unknown @lanatheawesome @theblindhag @skz-f0rlif3 @f9clementine 

@kalopsian-thoughts @ismelllikechlorine247 @hyunjineret @kangaracharacha @slut4colinbridgerton 

@reverse-soe @cupidsmoons @jungwonderz @szkstay @tenmii 

@stay278 @phtogravi @hannahs-docx @jihanlovic @alnex05 

@beccaskz @starlostastronaut @itsseohannbin @kayleefriedchicken @anushasstuff

@jutdwae-archives @dazzlingjade @itzella @divineinsanity

[604to647]

Safest with You (Ch. 19 - The Betrayal)

5.3K / Modern AU Retired Mob Enforcer!Din Djarin x fem!reader

Summary: Din addresses the threat made against you the only way he knows how.

Warnings: 18+ Content (MDNI please). Established relationship, unprotected PiV, nicknames (pretty bird, baby, etc.) Angst, angsty angst. Additional warnings withheld to avoid spoilers.

A/N 1: I'm just going to upload this now instead of my usual Friday posting because it's been a doozy to edit and while I don't think I've quite achieved the emotional punch I wanted, I feel like not posting it is holding me back on the next chapters; TLDR - it's not perfect but please take this from me 🙏🏻🫣

A/N 2: I'm sorry.

Series Masterlist / Dividers by @saradika-graphics 😘

It’s been a hell of a week.  More than once, Din’s come home worn down with evidence of some type of altercation etched into his energy.  Whatever is happening with the Mandos these days, it’s different than before – whereas prior to Cass and Rikard’s wedding the toll that the unrest had taken on Din was mainly physical, these days the weight that Din carries on his ever tightening shoulders seems to be more of a mental burden.  He won’t talk to you about it and that alone leaves you anxious with worry for him. 

After what must have been only a temporary respite, months of simmering tension in Din’s world feels like it’s about to break into a boil at any moment and you just know that Din will be in the middle of it when it does.  One night, Din comes home with a nasty knife wound down his side and you have to fight back tears as you do your best to help him clean and patch up his wound.  When it’s clear that your amateur first aid skills won’t be enough, you call Lala who came over immediately and put her nursing degree to use, mending and healing what you could not.  After walking her down the stairs to her waiting cab, you had hugged your friend tightly, thanking her profusely for coming and helping Din.  The look of concern on her face finally breaks you and before you can help yourself, you're crying in her arms – you've never had anyone with whom to share your worry for Din before.  Your friends have seen you stressed over Din in the past, but this is the first time someone has seen evidence of the violence that’s the root behind your anxiety.  Selfishly, you feel a weight lifted off of you from not having to hide this part of your life with Din from your friends for once. 

Climbing the stairs and reciting to yourself the instructions Lala left on how to keep Din’s wound clean and infection-free, you suddenly wonder if Din might be angry with you for having brought in an “outsider”.  But your concerns turn out to be completely baseless, evaporating the moment you fluff the pillows behind Din’s head while trying to make him more comfortable – Din takes your hand and apologizes to you, “I’m sorry, pretty bird.”

“Sorry for what?  Getting hurt?”

“Sorry that I can’t keep this part of my life out of yours.”

Silly old man. “Din, there isn’t any part of your life that I don’t want in mine,” you try to smile at him reassuringly, but he’s already succumbing to the pain medication and drifting off to sleep.

Din doesn’t tell you about the threat made against you - he doesn’t want to scare you or have you living in fear.  He also doesn’t want to add to the anxiety he knows you already carry on his behalf, especially since he doesn’t have any answers right now - the investigation into the threats is not going as quickly as he’d like. 

He knows he's not being fair.  It’s all hands on deck right now - every Mando on the payroll put on protection and surveillance details to ensure that each photographed target has sufficient coverage, including you.  That only leaves a few bodies with enough time and know how to properly investigate the threats and chase down leads.  These things take time, patience, focus – Din knows that, but all he can think about is you and how every minute he hasn’t uncovered the culprit behind the threats is a minute you’re not safe.  It’s distracting him and making him sloppy – like the other night where he literally chased down a lead who ended up pulling a knife on him.

As far as Din’s concerned, even if he has a Mando watching you every second of the day (which just isn’t possible), until he makes headway in the investigation, you won’t be any safer.  He doesn’t tell you any of this - just lets it stew and eat him up.  But you know him so well and he can tell that you know he’s keeping something from you and that it hurts you.  Din had made you a promise a long time ago that even if he can’t tell you everything, he would never make you feel like he was purposefully keeping you in the dark – he knows he’s breaking that promise every day. 

Something has to give. 

Din knows this but he doesn’t know what.  He could tell you everything – you would have to live as you never have before, frightened and terrorized.  Would you blame him?  He already does.  Or he could try harder to pretend that nothing’s wrong – somehow this feels like lying to you and quite frankly, he doesn’t think he could manage it anyways.  What he really needs is a break to come in the case so he can take out whoever is behind this, but he has no concrete way of making this happen.  In lieu of that… he could remove the target over your head another way.  There are no good options.

Then, without warning one night, it hits him square in the jaw what the only option is. 

It’s near closing time at the gym, but there aren’t any people working out – just a Mandos gathering.  Paz leads the meeting which consists primarily of going over surveillance reports and handing out protective detail rotations.  The atmosphere isn’t relaxed by any stretch of the imagination, but nothing out of the ordinary has come up recently and if anything, the meeting is fairly routine.

Din is only half listening to the protection assignments, having already heard that Jimmy and Mayfeld are assigned to you this week, when out of the corner of his eye he sees Brian get a text and leave to make a call outside, but he never makes it past the front doors of the gym.

Even from a distance, Din can hear Brian’s girlfriend through the line; she’s upset, nearly hysterical, whatever Brian is saying to her completely masked by the sobs coming through the phone. 

Having been silenced by what they can’t help but overhear, the Mandos all watch as Brian returns hurriedly to talk to Paz, voice low while his girlfriend appears to stay on the line; Brian has his hand over the mouthpiece of the phone but her loud sniffling can still be heard through the ear piece of the receiver.  When Brian leaves, practically running out the door – Paz calls out for a few Mandos to follow with him, but not Din.

“You should go see Lil’ Lady, brother.”

“Why? What happened?” Din panics.

It wasn’t Paz’s intention to alarm his friend needlessly, realizing too late the folly of his words, “Brian’s girlfriend was being followed while she was out walking the dog.  Not even very discretely.  Two cars filled with guys won’t stop harassing her – she’s not close to home so we’re going to go deal with it.”

“While she was walking the dog?!” Din’s immediate thought goes to you and Al as Paz knew it would.

“Yeah.  We’ll go with Brian.  You go home, ‘kay brother?”

Din’s already packing up, ready to close up the gym and head to your place, the buzzing in his head drowns out anything Paz might be saying: “nothing to worry about” or “it’s not the same.”

It might as well be the same.  Brian’s girlfriend was walking the dog.  You walk the dog.  She was alone.  You walk Al alone.  She had been so very frightened – he could hear it over the phone, and his heart constricts painfully imagining that same current of fear in your voice.  She has a detail, of course, but apparently whoever had gone after her was willing to take the chance, or somehow knew when she would be alone, without Brian and when her security would be rotating off. 

The Mandos can only do so much – even with their efforts, none of the targets being protected are 100% safe 100% of the time.  As he drives, Din can’t help but replay the sound his brain conjures of what you might sound upon realizing you’re in danger, scared and crying out for his help.

By the time he pulls up to your building, he’s come to the only solution that’s viable in order to keep you safe.  The one that that increasingly loud, incessant voice in his head has been nattering about since he saw those photos of you.  With a heavy heart, he picks up his phone and dials a number that he hasn’t called in a long, long time.

For the past few days, Din’s been coming home earlier and you can tell he’s making an effort not to bring Mando business home with him.  While you appreciate it, you think you would much rather if he told you more about what was going on, or at least be less closed off with you.  Tonight, he comes home tonight with flowers and a big bag of take out from your favourite Thai place as a surprise – you know he’s trying to make up for his mood the last two weeks; his sweetness warms your heart – he’s shut you out a lot recently but you know he probably hasn’t meant to.  And while you don’t need him to apologize for it, you do need him to know he can open up to you about what’s troubling him – the two of you have come such a long way since the first time he told you about his connection to the Fetts; it seems silly to keep you in the dark so much after saying, in Din’s own words, that you were one of them.  Sitting down with your plates, you let Din know as much in a gentle and calming manner – you don’t want him to feel bad, you just want him to know you want to be there for him.

Din sighs, “I know, I’m so sorry, pretty bird.  I don’t mean to shut you out.  I… just don’t want any darkness to ever touch you.”

Leaving your plate behind, you climb into Din’s lap and run your hands through his soft curls, gently placing soft kisses to the corners of his mouth before cupping his face in your delicate hands and cradling it so he looks at you, “I know, baby… but I’m a big girl.  And I know that I have my big bad wolf to take care of me if things are too much.”

Din smiles and closes his eyes, feeling a tingle every place where the soft graze of your fingers touches his skin: his face, jaw, neck.  He could stay like this forever, just melting into your touch.

Nodding, he tells you what you need to hear, “Tomorrow night, I have to do something that I’m dreading.  But it needs to be done and I’m the only one who can do it.  But, pretty bird – if there was any other way, I would never entertain it.  I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.  It consumes my every waking thought.  It will be one of the hardest and maybe worst things I’ve ever had to do – and I don’t even have any idea if it will even work.  I don’t think I’m at all prepared for what will happen after - I’m scared, baby.”

Din's telling you the truth.  Tomorrow, he’s leaving.  Tomorrow, you’ll hate him.  He doesn’t know how he will find the strength to go through with what he has planned - all he knows is that he has to.  He’s almost afraid to open his eyes – he knows that when he does, he’ll be met your understanding and unwavering sympathy for his plight; you always look at him with so much care, love and belief in his goodness.  His heart shatters at how much he’s going to betray that trust.

“Will you be in danger?” you ask, timidly – you won’t ask details because you don’t think Din will give you any, but you’ve never heard Din speak this way before.  Normally so fearless, it’s so unsettling to hear your big, strong warrior admit that he’s afraid.

His eyes forlorn, Din nods, “I wouldn’t rule it out, baby.  If things go a certain way, I’ll go back to my place to lay low, okay?  No matter what, I’ll call you before 9:00 to let you know I’m okay.”

Still holding his face in your hands, you study your sweet, brave Din’s face and try to convey with your own gentle expression that you believe in him, that everything will be alright.  He reads you perfectly and his chest tightens even more – no matter what, you always remain his biggest supporter, confident in his abilities and his decency.  His precious pretty bird.  He closes his eyes and inhales your sweet scent, a mix of your floral perfume and the nameless subtle scent that he associates with just you, as you flutter soft butterfly kisses all over his face and neck.

That night Din takes you to bed and makes love to you.  His loving gaze and hands try to memorize every line and curve of your figure; he kisses your lips swollen so they’ll imprint on his own.  Mentally, Din attempts to record every sigh and sound of pleasure that falls from your mouth, hoping he’s captured them properly so he’ll never forget them.

He makes you sing with his fingers and mouth, honouring every deep valley and cresting wave of your body and thanks you for allowing him the privilege of knowing it so intimately by touching the very deepest, loveliest parts of you.  He drinks from you like a parched man in a desert that knows what he’s found is a mirage, but it’s as good to a desperate man as an oasis, so he’ll have more than his fill while the fantasy lasts.  He gives you mind numbing pleasure and takes none for himself, hoping that every orgasm his gives you tonight will somehow lessen the hurt he’ll inflict tomorrow.  The less selfish part of him knows that it will actually hurt more, but he cannot regret devoting himself to you for just one more night.

When Din finally enters you, it’s with him positioned on top - pinning you beneath his formidable frame, caged in and safe.  He won’t take you any other way tonight.  He won’t look anywhere else tonight but your bright eyes, the ones that remain, for now, filled with adoration and love.  If there’s anything he swears to himself that he’ll remember, it’s these eyes.  They close whenever he steals your air by uncovering those secret parts of you that only he can reach, and snap open wide as you gasp to the sensation of Din dragging along your tight, warm walls.  Later, after he’s already pulled two from you, Din slowly thrusts, stretching and filling you so that you both feel every inch of his worship and he watches them fill with tears.  “I know, baby, I know,” he whispers, not sure if he’s reassuring you or himself as his kisses your wet cheeks. 

The final time you come, you do so in tandem, both you and Din crying out loud, unashamed, and desperate.  Collapsing on top of you, Din softly chants words of praise and love: ‘I love you’ ‘You’re perfect’ “There is no one for me but you’ timed to his still pulsing cock, trailing off only when the fluttering of you sated cunt subsides.

---

You wake some time in the night to the gentle movements of Din’s lips pressed into your hair, murmuring words that you don’t understand, either because they’re too quiet or because your brain isn’t quite awake enough.

“Din?” you mumble, still half asleep.

“Sorry, pretty bird,” Din gently pets your hair, “didn’t mean to wake you. Go back to sleep, sweetheart.”

Rolling so you’re now facing him, you gently extricate one of your arms from under the covers and run your fingers down the strong line of Din’s jaw, smiling softly at the way his scruff tickles your finger.  Din closes his eyes at your feather light touches.

“Can’t sleep because you’re worried about tomorrow, baby?”

Without opening his eyes, Din nods and leans into your hand, encourage you to give his face more of your soft scratching.  He’ll miss this. Your soothing touch. The way you read him and know his feelings sometimes better than he does himself. And, of course, your sweetness - how you take on his troubles as your own so he never feels alone, and honestly, just how much you care. You care so deeply, about him, about everything, and it tears Din’s heart out that soon your beautiful soul will be marred by what he has planned.

He opens his eyes to what he will forever insist is the most gorgeous sight his eyes will ever behold: you smiling lovingly at him, softened eyes full of fondness, confident that the man you’re gazing at adoringly cherishes you, one who deserves how you cherish him right back, “Whatever happens, Din, we’ll get through it.  Together.  But you should get some sleep, baby - you probably need to be well rested for tomorrow.”

He nods again, he’ll agree to anything you say so not to burden you will extra worry or concern.  Still taking care of him. Always caring for him. Fuck. You’re a heaven he never thought he would find.  Din mirrors your actions, stroking your cheek softly as you smile sleepily at him, his gentle actions doing what they intend - lulling you slowly back to sleep.

“You’re so pretty,” Din whispers, unable to string together something more eloquent; it’s beyond him right now to find the words expressive and articulate enough to describe the beauty he’s looking at.

No matter - your face glows at his compliment, “Thank you, baby. You always make me feel so pretty.”

“You are,” Din’s voice is indulgent and true.

“And you make me feel so safe.”

“You are,” his chest tightens a little at this sentiment.

“So loved,” your voice lilts up a little at this declaration, soaring above the notes of the words and its pretty melody makes Din's heart take flight.

“You are,” Din’s emotions nearly choking him now.

“And so happy,” the look on your sleepy face is tranquil, trusting, content.

“Oh, fuck, pretty bird.  You make me so happy, too,” Din’s voice cracks. It’s such an understatement, in some ways even derivative of how you actually make him feel and yet, not untrue - you make him deliriously happy.

“And loved?”

“Yes, baby, I feel loved,” he grins at the innocence in your voice, though he knows when it comes to the lyricism of your words, nothing you say is by chance.

“And safe?”

“Very safe.”

“And pretty?” and there it is: your silly, teasing grin - wide and self satisfied, like a Cheshire Cat.

Din gives you what you want, “Yes, I feel pretty.”

“You’re the prettiest, Din,” you yawn, eyes ready to close but still crinkled in mischief. Not for the first time he wonders at your playfulness and how you always manage to make laugh. He will miss these lighthearted, carefree moments with you the most, he thinks. Miss making you laugh right back. Oh, your laugh. He wishes there was someway he could record it, to have on hand and replay anytime he needed to lift his spirits.

“Ok, sweetheart. It’s clear you’re delirious.  Time for sleep,” he nuzzles his nose against your neck as you giggle.

“Nope, I’m going to remember every word of this tomorrow morning, pretty man,” you insist, though your languid, sinking body belies the conviction in your tone.

Once he hears your soft, sleepy purrs, Din resumes what he was doing before you woke.  He certainly was not sleeping; he won’t let any of these last remaining moments he has with you go to waste.  Instead, he contents himself just watching you sleep in peace, admiring your beautiful features, unable give them up for even a minute more than he has to - not when he knows that this is the last night he has with you in his arms. 

And so, he appreciates as much of you for as long as he can - soaking in your presence and the warmth of your lithe body against his, feeling your soft calm breaths as your chest rises and falls in your worry free sleep.  He murmuringly declares all his love, devotion and regrets, knowing he will never have a chance to speak these truths directly to your face; so like a coward, he pours them out now, hoping something within you will hear him and always know how deeply he cares for you.  And how very, very sorry he is.  He admires your loveliness for as long as he can, forcing himself to keep his eyes open to the woman he loves until he’s overtaken by exhaustion.

How long is too long?  This is the question you ask yourself at half past 9:00 pm.  When you last saw Din, kissing him goodbye this morning as you left for work, he had reassured you again that he would be careful today and he would check in by nine o'clock.

It’s been an entire day of trying to keep your mind off what Din is doing and failing miserably.  You can’t get the image of your strong hulk of a man - the fighter, the protector - looking so unsure of himself, beaten, frightened.  Anxiously you’ve been awaiting his call all evening, fidgeting and unable to sit still or focus on any task that you attempt to pick up for a distraction.

Is he hurt?

This fear plagues your thoughts starting at 8:00 pm and only intensifies as time ticks by. 

“Fuck it,” you say to Al at 10:00 pm, “I’ll take you for a walk when I get back, ok bud?”  Al looks at you as if to say ‘It’s about time, Lady’ before laying his head back down for a nap that will thankfully be undisturbed by your restlessness.

You fret the entire cab ride to Mando’s, but mercifully, it’s quick.  About to put your key in the lock, it strikes you that it might be a good idea to exercise some caution, so instead, you knock softly.  Worried when Din doesn’t answer right away, you say quietly through the door, “Din, it’s me.  Are you there?  Are you hurt?”

To your relief, you hear the lock start to turn; but when the door finally opens, your stomach drops. 

It’s not Din. 

Instead, Vanessa stands on the other side of the door, half naked - wearing only her underwear and one of Din’s button-up shirts.  You look at each other in silence for what feels like forever; your mind feels foggy, unfocused, but you think you perceive a small smile on her lips.  With every second that passes, the strangling pressure on your heart grows stronger, smothering every loud beat.  Finally, you find your voice, “Is Din here?”

And suddenly he is.  Visible from the doorway and standing only a few steps behind Vanessa, Din’s shirtless and his pants are unbuttoned, as if he had pulled them on in a hurry.  He can’t quite make eye contact with you, and in this moment, any hope that you might have had that this isn’t what it looks like, vanishes. 

Vanessa turns and steps towards Din - as she is about to pass him, she stops at this shoulder and says, loudly, “When you’re done, come back to bed, baby.” Cupping the far side of his face, she pulls him towards her, planting a kiss to the corner of his mouth before she walks off in the direction of the bedroom.

You look away and try to swallow the sob that's trying to claw its way out of your throat.  Din is coming towards you now and instinctively, you back away.  This is not your Din.  Not the Din who always leaves you the last bit of milk for your morning coffee.  Not the Din who holds his hands over your eyes during scary movies, but narrates for you what’s happening because he knows you still want to know.  Not the Din who pledged his love and loyalty to you.  Not your Din.  But your Din is a lie. You think you're going to be sick.

Din watches as you shrink away from him and his heart shatters.  He knows with certainty that he’s lost you.  Yes, this is what he planned for; he needed you to no longer be his. If you weren't his, there would be no incentive for anyone to target you - but seeing you so hurt and being the one to hurt you is more agonizing than he could have prepared for.

He shuts the door so that it’s just the two of you standing in silence in the hall.  Willing yourself to look up, you stare at Din directly, “I came tonight because… I thought you might be hurt.” 

I know, baby, Din laments, I knew you would.  Because you’re considerate and all kindness.  And I leveraged your goodness like a weapon and used it against you.

You pause, still trying to reconcile what you’ve stumbled upon and what you’ve believed up until tonight to be the essence of the man you love.  Didn’t Din assure you that Mandos never cheat?  That he has never and would never?  That you were enough for him?  As if to give him one last chance to somehow offer an explanation that your brain couldn’t conjure up on its own, you continue in a smaller voice, “Just last night you were telling me how happy I make you,” your eyes desperately search his, “How could you do this?”

You do, pretty bird.  You make me so very happy.  Din looks at you with a resigned expression, “I told you… I’m not a good guy.”

You don’t know what you expected – a denial maybe?  Some attempt by Din to comfort you?  An acknowledgement of how he’s betraying a year long relationship that had been one of the happiest of your life?  Somehow this stoic non-response stings just as much as the cheating. 

“No. You’re not,” you whisper.

Din can only look at you sadly, eyes downcast in shame.  No, I’m not, pretty bird.  Finally.  You acknowledge the very truth that Din’s been running from since he met you.  You and your goodness had almost convinced him that despite the things he’s done in the past, or what his connections and ties are, he might be good too - good enough for you.  But a man worthy of you wouldn’t place you in danger just by association; the man you deserve would never betray your sweetness or belief in him by leading you into darkness without your knowledge.

“… you’re an asshole.”

“I am.  I’m sorry.”  It’s the most truth he can offer you tonight.

The tears are coming now and there isn’t anything you can do to stop them.  Your body is screaming at you to leave, to get yourself far away from Din and the flaming wreckage of what you thought was a true and deep love - one you had given all of yourself to and for which you were now left with only questions that you know will never be answered.  “I never want to see you again,” you manage to choke out.

Din is grateful for the small grace that he won’t have to lie to you again.  “You won’t.  I promise,” he whispers, devastated.

And with that, you turn and flee.

---

Din stays standing on the landing until he hears the downstairs door slam; you never turned around and he is suddenly very aware that he will never look upon your face again.  The realization hits him with a force the tips him against his door; he closes his wet eyes and rests there for a minute before going back into his apartment.  When he turns from closing his door, he finds Vanessa standing in the living room, looking at him expectantly.

“Well?”

Din sighs. “Well, what?”

“Is it done?”

Is what done? Is he done breaking the heart of the only woman he’s ever truly loved?  Is he done ruining the best thing that’s happened to him a long time?  Destroying something that’s brought a light to his life he never thought was possible?  He supposes it is done.

Din sighs and nods.  He’s not unappreciative of Vanessa’s help, but she represents everything he’s broken tonight, “Thank you for your help, Vanessa.  Do you need a ride? I can drop you off on my way.”

Vanessa smiles coyly, “Right now?  I thought we could…” she lets her voice trail off, looking eagerly at Din.  But when he remains unmoved, face dispassionate and detached, she takes the more direct route, “I mean, she already thinks we had sex.  We might as well actually have sex.”

Din doesn’t have any fight left in him; he just needs tonight to be over, “I don’t think we can do that, Vanessa.  I have to go, are you sure I can’t offer you a ride?”

She dresses as she gathers her things, annoyed, “Where do you have to go?  Are you going after her?”  Hands on her hips, she looks at him in disbelief, “Din. She hates you.”

“I know she does.  But I still want to make sure she makes it home okay.”

Exasperated, Vanessa storms past Din and out the door, ignoring his offer of a ride and for the second time in ten minutes, Din hears his downstairs door slamming closed. 

---

Din expects you make it to your apartment before him, but he has enough time to park his truck and find a spot where he won’t be seen before he sees you come downstairs with Al.  Your pretty face is ashen and a look of shock is still written on your face.  With a lump in his throat, he watches you let Al do his business and the ensuing tug of war between you and your dog, both intent on going in opposite directions.

His chest aches when he hears you cry as you kneel down, “I’m sorry buddy, I can’t take you for a long walk tonight.  I’m sorry.”

Your sweet pup shows you the compassion and care that Din can’t offer you, allowing you to lead him back into the building without further fuss.

Din stands on the sidewalk, looking up at your apartment far into the night.  He experiences a sinking sensation of déjà vu, remembering the last time he was in this position – when he ended things with you after your third date.  What a fool he is, letting go of his perfect match twice; the finality of his actions this time leaves no hope in his chest.  And so, Din remains rooted where he stands, not moving even when his legs start to protest; he barely registers your security detail coming over to check on him.  Jimmy’s calls of his name or questions as to what happened are unable to cut through the dull droning in Din’s head of his own failings.  Called in by an panicked Mayfeld, Paz arrives a short while later; upon seeing Din’s near catatonic state, he intuits with disbelief what Din did tonight.  With some difficulty, Paz draws Din away and back towards his vehicle – Din never even hears his best friend’s insistent whispers that things will be okay and that they have to go.  His head is filled only with you and a sad recitation that drowns out all other voices: I’m sorry, pretty bird.  I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.

Bc I'm not posting on my usual day, tagging a few people that have been so patient with me and supported this series. Ty ilysm 🥹 @tuquoquebrute @furiousmushroom @cheekychaos28 @72scsuze

@toobsessedsstuff @whirlwindrider29 @inept-the-magnificent @mellymbee @that1nerd-20

@hipabbster23 @bitccchmood @bigbutchenergee @rainbowcat164 @the-strawberrythief

@johnssherlock221 @misstokyo7love @vivian-pascal @florxdexcerezo @fanficlover1414

[marzipanandminutiae]

Here’s a thing I think every amateur wannabe historian should learn sometime.

Sometimes, a tomboy is just a tomboy. Not every girl or woman who didn’t want to be a glorified babymaker was secretly a butch lesbian.

I don't really understand where you're coming from with this, given that you just reblogged a post about Butch Lesbian Odysseus AU. like...it's not really an issue, that I'm aware of?

(this is especially odd because most of the big contenders for Famed Historical Western Tomboy titles- ie "woman who presents in a masculine manner and/or shows interest in masculine activities as a genuine expression of personal taste" -I can think of...were in fact queer)

(George Sand? bi. Anne Lister? un-secretly a butch lesbian. Louisa May Alcott? inconclusive on WHAT her deal was, but if that woman was cishet in modern parlance, I'd be very surprised. Rosa Bonheur? lesbian. Missy/Max/Mathilde de Morny? literally made out with Colette onstage and shocked Paris of all places.)

(I can think of plenty of women who didn't want to be "glorified babymakers"- by which I will charitably assume you mean "these women did not want the conventional lives expected of women," and not, "housewives were useless and/or brainless" who were straight. like most women, they expressed varying degrees and types of femininity in personal presentation. not wanting to be a housewife and mother and not being feminine are not necessarily linked. but a large number of the ones that people might call Tomboys, and who gained fame, were uh. were queer. not all, to be sure! but there is definitely not a huge crowd of Woke Historians just clamoring to label every unconventional woman a butch lesbian)

(is there an issue with laypeople online not understanding relationship and image nuances in the past? sometimes. but I find that's less "assuming tomboys are queer" and "not knowing about photographic conventions around Joke Crossdressing, and/or theatrical promo images for trouser roles.")

(Dr. Mary Edwards Walker, first female US army surgeon, comes to mind as a "tomboy" who's not known to be queer- and even then, she married a man, but we don't know for certain that she was Straight.)

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

I saw another post on another blog that had a really good point and wanted to share it with everyone here...unfortunately I can't find the comment now!

The anon suggested that perhaps why the wire services may have freaked out about the edits on KP's photo is because of terms and conditions prohibiting agencies from selling post-edited or post-modified images. So someone at the AP or whatever wire service saw the edits and assumed that the usual rules - no selling or purchasing edited photos - applied in this case and overcorrected by issuing the kill notice to rectify their mistake of purchasing an edited photo. And in that panic to correct their "error", no one realized that the photo was sourced from a personal social media account, thus is subject to different rules. More internet chaos and a KP apology later, the photo suddenly gets resurrected and some of the community notes are removed.

It's a good theory, and one that's very plausible. Probably the most plausible explanation of everything that happened.

As to why there was suddenly a resurrection, I'm thinking the lawyers got involved and if the lawyers finally did get pulled in, they probably said either "this is a personal photo accessed on social media, those rules don't apply" (and everyone went "shit-shit-shit") or they talked about the sudden liabilities they're now open to with this precedence of calling out edits that they now have a standard to uphold (and everyone went "shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit"). Again, this is just conjecture. The kneejerking back-and-forth that happened today does seem classically lawyerese to me, though.

A second piece to this, I'm reminded of how KP shares their photos. Which is that the actually aren't selling their photographs. It's an old story from back in 2013, but when KP published the baby George-Kate-William-Lupo photos taken by Michael Middleton, a blogger who wanted to buy the photos for her website contacted Michael or KP to enquire about purchase and usage, and Michael or Michael's people responded that there was no cost for using the photos as long as she properly credited him with the copyright and used them only for a news story. I imagine that's similar to KP's process; if a publication (such as the AP) wants to reproduce a photograph credited to Kate (or William) that has been published on social media, the entity makes a request to the office, and the communications office sends them the source file.

At no point in any of this is there actually any money exchanging hands. I'm pretty confident there's no money being exchanged for KP's personal photographs to be reused, in which case the "we don't buy edited photos" rule is null and void. Different standards apply here. (My confidence comes from the fact that this is part of the "press pact" that Meghan and Harry pushed back against; they wanted to charge copyright and usage fees for their personal photographs rather than make them freely available on request like the then-Cambridges did.)

And then finally, all photographers - amateur and professional alike - edit their images before publishing them or sending them anywhere. What Kate did is no different than what Misan Harriman or Chris Jackson or Samir Hussein do (and have admitted to! Check out those links for their "confessions."). And I suspect that KP's statement where Kate said she had done the editing herself before the photo was posted is what threw the monkey wrench that maybe brought the lawyers in - because if they retract KP's photo on the basis that someone edited it before it was first posted/submitted to the public, then they have to retract thousands and thousands of other photos on the same grounds that someone edited it before it was first posted/submitted to the public. Again, this is all speculation.

At the end of the day, it all seems to be boiling down to one thing: there was a mixup and a miscommunication somewhere. And for me, all the signs point to the cock-up happening on the media's side. The rules/terms and conditions they have in place to use only verified images are good ones to have, but the last 48 hours have made it abundantly clear that there are holes in the rules and gaps in how they vet and verify images they source and distribute.

(Honestly I'm surprised that photographers haven't spoken out in Kate's defense. I'd have thought at least one or two would've said something. I can see why they wouldn't - maybe jobs are on the line or maybe they lose contest/recognition opportunities if they do - but it does strike me as a bit odd.)

(Also, sorry to the anon from earlier this morning to whom I said I probably wasn't going to post on the photo edit drama anymore. Clearly that plan went by the wayside.)

[mylifeisfruk4ever]

How Difficult Can It Be?

Chapter 1

“You should be at the Planet now.”

“Hello to you too, Bruce,” Superman said, gliding next to him. Bruce had slipped into the cave as soon as Dick left for school, to find out who had taken the photos at the gala and what connection he had with Vicky. 

He had called Lucius to tell him that he would be late for the meeting, but the man had told him not to worry and that everything was under control.

He would like to think more about his civilian life, but by now Bruce was obsessed. How could this have happened?

He was always so careful, how could someone have missed him? He had to find out.

He was so focused on the computer that he barely listened to Superman say, “…so now Lois is going to cover for me with Perry. That's how I got there first.”

“Mhm,” he grunted, nodding. There were several photographers at the party, but the photo was not of any of them. It certainly wasn't made by a cell phone or by someone trying their hand at it amateurally, so...

Superman's voice came to him calmly but decisively, "What have you decided to do?"

He blinked, once, twice, “What?”

The other man shook his head, but smiled good-naturedly at him (it should be illegal to smile like that, as if your face wouldn't hurt afterwards), “For the article and the photo, Bruce.”

“I'm looking for the author of the photo,” he said, pointing to the computer. Vicky won't like that someone hacked into her email again, but maybe it will teach her not to put Clark on the front page without thinking about the consequences.

“And the article? Because Lois is willing to interview you to get a denial, and she's sure she'll be taken more seriously and..."

“It won't be necessary,” he reassured him, putting his hand at his side. He had just felt a slight twinge. How painful it was to be hugged by Dick first and pretend he wasn't hurting like a dog. But he certainly couldn't make the boy go away without a hug first: he would think he had done something wrong and he would be sad, and Bruce didn't want to make him cry.

"Oh?" Superman raised an eyebrow. “Is your PR already dealing with this? Lois will be disappointed.”

"Neither. There will be no denials.”

“Huh?”

Bruce turned to him, "I want to introduce you to Dick..."

“Um…yes, actually it was time…”

“…as my boyfriend.”

Superman was silent. It was a very long and very embarrassing moment (at least for one of the people present), then he decided to ask, "You want me to do what?!"

"Introduce your as my boyfriend to Dick," Bruce said simply, as if he wasn't asking his best friend to pretend to be having a relationship. “It doesn't even have to last that long. We will tell him that things didn't work out but that we intend to remain friends, that way you can come to the Manor without arousing suspicion.”

“Yes, I'm going to need more context here and…Bruce, please look at me while we talk.”

The human took a deep breath, and turned his chair towards Superman. He was in very poor condition, he hadn't shaved and had hair sticking out everywhere. His t-shirt was loose, revealing a large portion of his shoulder, and his gym pants left part of his stomach exposed.  But Superman looked at him and felt like he had been punched in the stomach by Metallo. 

"Well?" Bruce said impatiently. “What do you want to know?”

“How about you tell me why the hell I should pretend to be your boyfriend to your adopted son?” Superman asked, his mouth feeling very dry and strangely itchy again.

And Bruce, master tactician, did it with a single sentence, "This way I don't have to tell him I'm Batman."

Silence again. Then, as if shaken out of his torpor, Superman blurted out a sincere and heartfelt, “Bruce…what the hell?!”

[1863-project]

Thinking a bit about baseball and how it runs in my family so thoroughly on both sides.

My dad's father was such a good amateur third baseman that he was scouted by the Yankees. We have a letter from the team inviting him to tryouts. But he'd just started a family at the time and the Minor League life is rough, and it was rougher still in the 1950s, so he remained an amateur player who nevertheless had a deep love of the game. He apparently met and played with Willie Mays during the Korean War when he was stationed stateside. He got Mays to etch his name on the strap of his helmet. We still have that, too.

(Image description: the author's paternal grandfather in a right-handed batting stance.)

On my mom's side things were entertaining. My mom's grandfather was a New York (later SF) Giants fan. He and his wife had three children, who they raised in the Bronx. The oldest, my grandmother, was a Giants fan like him. The middle child, my great-aunt, decided she had to be different and adopted the Brooklyn Dodgers. The youngest child, my great-uncle, furthered that and became a Yankees fan.

Allegedly, according to my great-aunt, my great-grandfather predicted the Giants, then behind, would win the National League pennant in 1951. She was incredulous because at the time the Dodgers were well in first place. Until they weren't.

[Video description: Giants third baseman Bobby Thomson clobbers a 3-run homer off of Dodgers pitcher Ralph Branca to win the 1951 National League pennant. This moment is known as The Shot Heard Round The World and the radio call only survives because a fan was at work during the game and had his mom record it off the radio for him.]

This family arrangement continued for a few more years until the Dodgers and Giants left for California in the late 1950s, and the National League members of the family drifted until 1962, when the Mets started playing. My grandmother and great-aunt both picked them up immediately and it's been that way on my mom's side ever since - the people descended from my grandmother and great-aunt are Mets fans, and the people descended from my great-uncle are Yankees fans.

[Image description: the man who somehow knew the Giants would win the 1951 pennant carrying his firstborn child, my grandmother, on his back on all fours, likely in 1932.]

Grandma Dot was a deeply passionate Mets fan and passed that trait to her daughter, who at one point had a huge baseball card collection and knew the Mets's stats better than all the boys in her school. My mom experienced her first World Series win at the age of 10 in 1969 and from there she would be loyal forever. She and my dad were married a few days after the Mets's second World Series win in 1986 and my younger brother and I would be raised on stories of that team during our early years.

[Image description: the author and her brother photographed from the back at Citi Field. The author is wearing a Gary Carter jersey and her brother is wearing a Mookie Wilson jersey.]

Although I get baseball from both sides of my family, the intense passion for National League baseball in New York has been passed down matrilineally, from my grandmother to my mother to me, and I cherish that deeply. I'm the culmination of three generations of baseball-loving women and I think that's actually really cool.

I'm mostly writing this because I don't quite want to let this Mets team go yet. They were so much fun this year and I already miss them so much, and they took us so much farther than anyone expected. 2024 wasn't our year, but it was one hell of a year and I love this cast of characters a lot.

This World Series would have divided my grandmother's family in the 1950s. Not so much today, since the Mets aren't there, but the Dodgers and Yankees haven't played in the WS against each other since 1981, and before their move to LA the Dodgers and Yankees met a few times in the 1950s. I wonder what my grandmother's siblings talked about, or if they trash talked each other, or if they gathered around the radio together for the play by play.

I just love how much this sport is literally in my blood.