#like are there really none or are they just not promoting themselves in the tags

[tarraxahum]

god, trying to find canon roleplayers for a mostly dead fandom is daunting

even more so when the last time you played it was at the peak of said fandom, so there were A LOT of you

[adverbally]

Take Me Where My Future’s Lyin’

Written for the @steddieangstyaugust prompt “Future” | wc: 731 | rated: T | cw: none | tags: job rejection, hurt/comfort, heavy author projection | title from “St. Elmo’s Fire (Man in Motion)” by John Parr

———

Steve hangs up the phone in a daze. Muscle memory takes over to lay the receiver back in its cradle. His gaze catches on the worn plastic, the kinks disrupting the cord’s neat coil.

“Hey, was that them? What’d they say?” Eddie sticks his head into the kitchen, a smile stretching his mouth wide with excitement.

The exact details of the conversation are already falling out of Steve’s memory, like water through a sieve. Are they even important, as long as the message was clear? “I didn’t get it,” Steve croaks.

Eddie freezes in the doorway. “What?”

He doesn’t think he can get any more words out, not with his throat squeezing like this, but he has to try. Eddie’s looking at him with so much worry, reaching out to comfort Steve without even knowing what happened, and it’s making Steve’s vision swim with tears. “I didn’t get the job. They’re going with someone else.”

“What the hell?!” Eddie protests. “You’ve been teaching there longer than anyone else who applied. You’re practically already the acting department head!”

“I know.” Steve pinches the bridge of his nose. They’ve been saying that all week, convincing themselves that Steve was the best candidate and he was sure to get the promotion. He had even believed it, after his last interview had gone so well. “I, um. They wanted someone with more leadership experience.”

Eddie’s growl of frustration isn’t directed at him, the logical side of Steve’s brain knows, but it still feels like it is. Probably because Steve is so frustrated with himself. His principal had personally encouraged him to throw his hat in the ring, telling him how proud he was of Steve for taking on extra responsibilities for the department and staying on top of everything despite the chaos of testing season. Apparently, that hadn’t been enough.

“You’re the best teacher in that whole damn school, they’re idiots if they think Linda Smith is going to do a better job than you,” Eddie is ranting indignantly.

Steve barely hears him. He can’t stop replaying the phone call in his mind, how Principal Lane had wanted to tell Steve about his rejection personally, before he could hear it through the grapevine. How he had promised Steve that he would find another way to help him advance, send him to training or some other bullshit professional development to put on his resume. How impressed the whole interview committee had been with his answers and his performance.

Just not impressed enough.

The disappointment sits like a rock in Steve’s gut. He‘ll have to go back to work on Monday, where every other second grade teacher will know that he applied and wasn’t good enough, and he’ll smile and shake Linda’s hand and congratulate her on getting the job he wanted. Hell, he’ll probably even have to help train her.

“Stevie?”

Eddie is blurry when Steve looks up at him, but he can make out enough to see his outstretched arms, waiting to pull Steve into his embrace. When Steve’s face crumples, Eddie is already hugging him close, kissing his temple.

“I know it’s just a job but I really wanted it,” Steve tells Eddie’s collarbone. His shirt smells so good, and he doesn’t want to move away to talk or breathe or let Eddie see him cry.

“I know, baby,” Eddie agrees. He does know; he’s been there for all the excited planning, helping Steve brainstorm ideas for how to spend his impending pay raise, looking at houses for sale and thinking about home improvement projects and creating an itinerary for a trip to visit Robin.

Steve shouldn’t have gotten so invested, no matter how optimistic he’d been about his chances. He had seen their future, with a big house full of kids and a job he was really good at and Eddie, loving him and believing in him, and he’d been ready for it. Now that door has closed and it hurts all the more since he’d gotten his hopes up.

“There will be other jobs,” Eddie murmurs to him. “We’ll get there eventually.”

“Yeah,” Steve sniffs against Eddie’s chest.

“In the meantime, we can have ice cream for dinner and talk shit about Linda.”

Steve’s laugh is wet but sincere. Whatever their future holds, he thinks he can handle it as long as Eddie is still there to figure it out with him.

[cheri-2047]

Idk if it's a good request or nah, but can you do a imagine in which the reader got adopted by Lyney, Lynette and Freminett family? Not like adopted by the HoH and arle. The trio adopt us but keep us away from Fatui business. We are obviously young and just got isekai'ed to Teyvat. I hope it's not a weird request, I just really want some platonic time with the trio :')

DUDE THIS IS SUCH AN INTERWSTING REQ, ID LOVE TO WRITE THIS !!

I’m gonna make it so the ages are like, freminet is 16, lyney and Lynette are around 20 and they found you when you were like idk 6

This is so badly written in sorry it’s cause tumblr deleted my progress thrice and my lazy ass lost my motivation on this.

This went from a third person perspective to a first so MY BAD. I’m really sorry like genuinely 😞

Hearth siblings adopt you <3

Tags: none this is in a family situation

Characters: Lyney, Lynette, Freminet, mentions of Arlecchino

Lyney and Lynette were in a mission together, to gather some information from a well-known noble in Fontaine.

The pair had gotten tickets to go to a banquet as requested by father, to “extend connections” and to fulfill their task.

They were in their usual get up, with small extra details such as some pearls on Lynette’s hair and as for Lyney, he had temporarily glued on extra sequins on his hat.

The two introduced themselves, blending in with the crowd smoothly as they had the noble in sight.

“My if it isn’t the greatest magicians in Fontaine!”

The noble recognized them, after seeing them in the Steambird countless times.

“Ah, hello! Pleased to meet you! But ah sir, you must be quite wrong. For we are actually the greatest in all Teyvat!”

Lyney joked, extending his hand for the noble to shake.

“Lyney and Lynette, correct?”

The man said, shaking the boy’s hand. They both nod, as Lynette bowed her head.

“Pleasure to meet you.”

The three chat, as there was a sudden commotion from the food area.

“OUT!”

The Gardes yelled, pointing to the door. The crowd looked curiously, to see a small child running out of the building.

“Ah little dumb kids. Which noble would bring their child to a grand place like this?”

The noble chuckled. The twins (though they didn’t want to) laughed along with his remark.

The twins were smooth, they knew how to talk so they would get answers. They got all the information they needed and decided to linger around longer, to promote themselves as well.

“Ah well sir, we are going to take our leave for now. Thank you!”

The two introduced themselves to others.

“We’re Lyney and Lynette!”

They said, showing others small card tricks.

After a few hours they got all they needed and more, and left the venue. As the two walked out and made their way to the Hotel Bouffe D’ete, they heard small cries.

“….brother look.”

The cat-hybrid pointed towards a bush, walking towards it a little. They saw…a child, a child who looked barely an age over 5. Hugging their knees while shivering and crying.

“…hello..”

The cat hybrid held out her hand, only for the child to look even more terrified.

“We won’t hurt you…”

The hybrid kneeled down to the child’s height, as the young boy approached them and kneeled down as well. The child only looked more scared.

“Hey…your knee is bleeding…”

The young boy said, reaching for his pocket to grab a handkerchief.

“May I?”

The child didn’t speak.

“Ah..parles-vous francais?” (Do you speak French?)

The child shook their head. “Ah…”

“What’s your name little one?”

The boy said, suddenly reaching his hand out with the handkerchief.

“I’m just gonna wipe your wound okay?”

The child nodded, as if saying it was okay before telling the twins their name.

“Nice to meet you! I’m Lyney and this is my sister”

“Lynette. Where are your parents?”

The child shook their head. the hybrid understood.

“I see… are you from here?”

Lynette tried to not talk about parents, since it might have been a sensitive topic for you

“No…”

Her eyes widened in shock, but decided not to question it.

“Ah..I see..”

The boy finished wiping your knee. He could have sworn he had seen you somehwere.

“Can you walk?”

You nodded. Standing up. Suddenly, the magician regcognized you.

“…ah! You were the child who got chased out by the gardes!”

You froze. Were they going to get angry at you? Tell you to scramble off? Were the-

Your stomach grumbled.

“…you were looking for food Weren’t you?”

You nod.

“Well in that case..why don’t you come home with us?”

Lyney turned to his Sister in shock.

“Lynette- we can’t possibly just bring another child to the hearth. You’ve seen how the other kids reacted..”

“They have no home. Where else are they to go?”

“Anywhere but the hearth.”

They kept whispering to each other, not wanting you to hear anything.

Lyney didn’t mean to sound rude, he just wanted to keep you out of fatui matters. He wanted to keep you safe especially since it looked like you didn’t know anything.

“…”

“…”

“…fine”

“Alright Reader… we will take you to a new home okay?”

Lyney sighed. as he carried you up in his arms and started to walk with you.

“We’ll introduce you to our little brother once we get to the hea- at home.”

Lynette pulled some extra sweets out of hee bad, she fed you while her brother was carrying you. As all 3 of you walked, you fell asleep in his arms.

Lynette and lyney were trying to figure out how to take care of you. They didn’t want to tell father, since they didn’t want you to suddenly be forced to enter a life full of a murderer and a criminal.

After awhile, you suddenly woke up in a bed, with a short boy sitting on the edge of it.

“Ah..um…you’re awake…”

“Hello there…I’m freminet..”

The boy introduced himself, as he Pat your head.

“I’m their little brother.. and I’ll be taking care of you today since they’re in a missio- ah- since they’re busy”

You nodded

The three would keep you in a different place outside the hearth. They would do everything to ensure that nobody from the hearth knew you and father would never find out

You hang out with freminet mostly. He makes the clockwork machines a lot while he’s in your room.

The twins always check on you everyday, and entertain you with magic tricks.

Any attempt of calling them your father or mother, they would immediately shut it down and say “no no you don’t have to-“ and laugh afterwards

Whenever you get sick one of the twins would make an excuse to father to not go on a mission, and instead take care of you.

Freminet often gives you some toys, he gets slightly happy whenever he comes back to your home to see you playing with them.

As you grow up, the three teaches you more things (like for school) and they even let you watch some of their shows. On the condition that “you must act like you don’t know us personally. Got it?”

Honestly they would be really nice older siblings to you, they also feel pride in themselves that they “raised a kid normally”

They let you leave your room whenever you want, on the condition that you must say a fake name and call them whenever you go out (and when you’re back).

Sometimes on missions, they feel bad for leaving you out so if they go to another ball, they have an extra ticket for you. They often tell you they’re just “promoting the show” but you don’t mind it.

You get really suspicious and weirded out sometimes, but then freminet would just make an excuse like “since you’re not from Fontaine, people might look for you…”

I bet the three genuinely think they’re being so slick but in reality, arlecchino knows about this. I dont know how she found out, maybe the way all three of them have gotten more food than usual? But she knows about you. She knows your real name, your age and how you look like, but she pretends to not know a thing. She finds it amusing that her 3 kids are trying so hard to give you a normal life and she wants to see the outcome of this.

All 4 of you become really close. Lyneys always there if you need someone to cheer you up, lynette is always there if you want comfort or desserts, and Freminet is literally like your best friend.

They set your birthday in the day they found you. Whenever it’s your birthday, all three give you presents and gives you their favorite food.

On their birthdays, they visit you late (since the hearth also celebrates) but whenever they do, they have their favorite foods and you have a gift for them too that they always appreciate. (And they would always use)

Whenever you’re alone for long periods of time, they would apologize and make up for it by staying with you the entire day the next day.

I’m actually so sorry for the shitty writing like genuinely and this wasn’t proofread either 😔 but thank you so so much

[ohblimeygeorge]

So I’m probably gonna get stick for this but something about a lot of the wags being invited for the Charlotte Tilbury f1 Academy event just rubs me the wrong way. Like F1 Academy is meant to be (and doing a good job) at highlighting women in motorsport and Susie’s doing an incredible job at it all, but the wags being invited to an event just for freebies and to ‘promote’ F1 Academy just seems all kinds of wrong.

For one, (and take this as the bitchy comment it is) none of them are these famous influencers they seem to think they are 🤷🏼‍♀️ so they don’t really have the audience to promote anything to bc their audience is basically full of fan girls of the drivers who most likely already know about F1 Academy and what it’s all about. Plus none of them are actually promoting it they’re just posting their pics with their make up and pr goodies and tagging. That’s not really promoting. I’d be more convinced if they had at least videos of them chatting to the drivers, answering questions to prove they’ve actually watched races, etc. Correct me if I’m wrong but I’ve not seen any of them really showing proper support for it beforehand but suddenly they’re all fans lol? Also I find it interesting that there are 2 girlfriends on the grid who are actual female athletes - Lily Muni He and Tiffany Cromwell. But neither of them are involved in the event nor the pic of the wags on the track today, when they are both there too. These 2 are the perfect way to help bring in more female fans/females in motorsports or just sports in general. They have audiences of their own, not just their bf’s fans and actually know how to engage in enticing new people in - they’ve pushed themselves through in their indvidual mainly male dominated sports. I would’ve loved to have seen them interact with the drivers and get involved! (I’m aware it very much could be them deciding not to but when the only 2 athletes aren’t involved and the other wags are.. Mm it looks strange to me). Having just wannabe influencers who are already from very privileged backgrounds be the faces of this latest promotion is just pure stupidity if I’m honest. Not one little girl is gonna look at that and think ‘yeah I’m gonna work really hard and get into motorsports!’ All they’ll see is flashy lifestyles and easy money. And let’s be clear, I’m not here to purely hate on them it’s just so disappointing tbh. The money spent on the pr freebies for the wags could’ve been used to spend it on the current F1 Academy drivers or the up and coming young girls not wannabe influencers who will keep it on their ig stories for 24 hours then never speak of it again bc they’ve got their picture showing their ‘support’ there now. Idk really it all just gives me a massive ick and tbh I might as well just say it bc I’m digging myself a hole here anyway lol but none of these women seem genuine at all.

I just wanna see more real hard work and determination and actual role models for the younger generation of girls not the glitz and glamour this latest wave of wags/F1 in general has brought.

[evajellion]

SMRPG AU where Smithy wins

OKAY HERE IT GOES-

So hypothetically, let's say Mario, Peach and Bowser just completely vanish after Exor crashes down. Either they straight up died or got isekai'd to Smithy's realm by accident, idk I will let the rest of you figure it out.

Years and years pass, Geno can't really get the Star Pieces without Mario and co. so… Smithy just, straight up takes over Star Road and lets his minions do whatever.

Here's what we thought up-

Smithy: Bowser's Castle was nice, but after learning what the Star Pieces did, Smithy went directly to the source and took over Star Road himself as its new overlord. He built an entire factory around it and over the years, is now known as "he who grants wishes".

Of course, much like the main villain in "Wish" (terrible movie btw), Smithy only grants wishes that he likes. He ignores wishes that are selfless or relevant to one's family, and only grants stuff relative to wealth, gain, or wanting to win.

It's less out of malice and more out of ignorance, really. He doesn't see any value in wanting things that have no material value or glory.

Mack/Claymorton: After ambushing the castle, Mack became the new ruler of the Mushroom Kingdom, but he said the name was stupid and changed it to the Claymore Kingdom.

There are, a lot of parties, almost every week. He's a complete tyrant who threatens and torments the Toads to the point where the Chancellor actually wishes Bowser would come back. If he gets bored? He decides to wage war on another kingdom "for fun".

He's getting an ego about it too, which some joke is just "him compensating for his size".

Bowyer: Honestly no one has any clue what Bowyer does. Some treat him like an actual forest cryptid that haunts the maze because he's been in there so long. People who enter the forest now never come back.

Bowyer doesn't understand the concept of killing anyone really, so it's not like forest intruders are dead. He just thinks it's fun to play "freeze tag but you're frozen for good" with anyone who comes by. Essentially, it's all a hunting game to him.

He probably views all his immobile visitors as trophies more than anything else.

Yaridovich/Speardovich: Eventually, he succeeds in duping someone to fight Jonathan and takes the Star Piece for himself. Smithy grants him his promotion and he is made mayor of Seaside Town, and he is a captain of his own crew of Drill Bits.

Jonathan is none too happy about this and makes beef with Yaridovich every day over what he had done. Jonathan prides himself on being a good fighter, but unfortunately, Yaridovich fights dirty.

Eventially, Yaridovich made a habit out of pirating other incoming ships himself. He wonders if doing this will get more promotion from Smithy, but… Smithy seems to have been ignoring him.

Axem Rangers: After beating up the Czar Dragon, Smithy suggests they take care of Nimbus Land since it's "uncomfortably close for his liking". They immediately make themselves known by exposing Valentina's lies and kicking her out, inadvertently making them heroes.

Axem Red and Pink take a lot of pride in removing Valentina and being adored by residents of Nimbus Land, but Black isn't happy with it at all and wants to go back to causing chaos. Green is neutral about the whole thing.

Axem Yellow meanwhile, managed to turn Dodo to their side simply by calling the large bird a "good boy" and giving him legumes as a treat.

Boomer: He's the shogun of Bowser's Castle, but nothing more. He guards Exor as he always did, and commands Smithy's Army, striking down anyone who dare cross his lord.

However, he isn't exactly happy with his position. He knows not to question Smithy, so he just… remains quiet about it. At the very least, he's humored by Axem Red's new heroic personality.

But he also fears if Red will turn on Smithy since he's so bent on appearing as "hero" for Nimbus Land. Boomer dad moments. :')

Exor & Count Down: Stationary. Exor is happy but Count Down seems bitter he cannot do more, he's kind of stranded and stir crazy.

Cloaker & Domino: They moved out of Smithy's dimension (much to Count Down's further frustration/loneliness) and settled into Marrymore for… obvious reasons.

Smithy doesn't mind so long as they can distribute. Domino quickly took advantage by becoming the most well-known medicine/potion seller in the land, kinda like Fairy Godmother. Excuses to depict Domino in sexy business glasses for my one friend who thirsts for him lmao.

Factory Chief: A second factory was built up in Star Road, that Smithy had taken charge of, so the Chief is now fully in charge of the old one inside of Exor! He's pretty happy about it.

The Director's son (because he has one for some reason?) is also working in the new factory while his father, the Clerk, and the Manager remain in the old one with the Chief. They all seem very happy, but the Director's son wonders if what Smithy is doing is right…

Gunyolk: Not used to having brothers. He was created by the Chief exclusively, and is now being mass produced, but… he liked it when it was only him and "papa".

Hypnosis Priest: She resides in Star Hill, discarding of wishes that Smithy tossed out. Essentially, she turned the entirety of the Mushroom Kingdom into a cult that worships Smithy as their Star Road overlord, with her as the leader of it.

And that's all I got, hi, feel free to throw anymore suggestions!!! :D

[wing-ed-thing]

Genma x Reader x Anko Friendship Headcanons

Tags: No Reader Pronouns, Language, Alcohol Mention, Name-Calling Among Friends ("dumbass"), Arguing

𓆃 It's a weird balance of effort, given that Genma and Anko aren't really ones to take themselves too seriously. It can make for a really weird friendship that's laid back and welcoming, but also absolutely infuriating.

𓆃 Compared to most of their peers who are dedicated to their shinobi work on another level, Anko and Genma have more of a realistic outlook on things.

𓆃 But overall, fitting in which shinobi that have different ambitions can come off more than a bit cliquey, but that doesn't mean much to either Anko or Genma so they're more than willing to spend casual time with you.

𓆃 Genma has never been one to overachieve, and Anko has been burned getting involved in Orochimaru's manipulation and doesn't like to stick her nose in bigger things.

𓆃 Ironically, Genma is also one to get the biggest promotions out of the three of you and the moment Anko smells trouble, she's setting off by herself to tackle it.

𓆃 They've achieved an almost god-like work-life balance, which means that you can spend meaningful time together as professionals, but also shed your jobs to just have fun at dinner together.

𓆃 Horrible influences who basically tell you to do whatever you want, and if the detriment isn't your death, it's fair game.

𓆃 Genma would tell you to stick it out for that piece of shit you met at the bar and completely love-bombed you and Anko would tell you to just murder him.

𓆃 But whether you over-do it trying to master some stupid, flashy move during training or you drank the most toxic combination of liquor known to man, Genma won't hesitate to scale a mountain with your passed-out dumbass—his words— on his shoulders; and you already know Anko is giving you every drinking and hangover tip known to man.

𓆃 In encouraging you to do everything, they'll be there for you for everything.

𓆃 Anko isn't afraid to tell you that your outfit is sexy and Genma will bring an extra lunch for you after you complain that about your failed meal-prep.

𓆃 Both of them are terrible at giving advice, though because Genma doesn't like to apply himself and Anko is just kinda stupid when it comes to interpersonal matters.

𓆃 And when Genma actually tries to give you real advice, he misses the point completely and only answers half your question or oversimplifies it.

𓆃 They're also petty bitches— Anko's words. While they can do confrontation, they don't take that as their first option.

𓆃 Ever year you'll have "your fight for the year" where it's very stressful, none of you are speaking, and everything is insanely passive aggressive.

𓆃 Anko will scream at you and Genma. Genma will tell you he couldn't care less about XYZ, and everyone will cry.

𓆃 But then you bounce back within a week, and you completely forget all of it ever happened. You exchange some simple apologies and eat food.

𓆃 Ride or die friends who are actually kind of insufferable.

Thank you to all who liked, reblogged, followed, and supported. Your support means so much and is greatly appreciated.

[blainesebastian]

kiss & tell

words: 3,184 ship: austin butler x reader summary: (request from @lattedreamer): “actress who finally got her big break in a film with Austin + ‘first kiss’” warnings: none notes: tweaked the request just a little, but the general concept is the same!  tag list: @killerqueenfan, @karamelcoveredolicity, @elizabethrosecresswell, @gigisworldsstuff, @stylesmendeshearted, @rairaielv​

If you’ve learned anything in the industry thus far, it’s to take advantage of opportunities that fall into your lap. Your agent would say otherwise, that the films you’ve gotten to be in are purely based on talent and word of mouth, that you’ve done your fair share of B side films to get you exactly where you are. Maybe it’s a mix, who knows. You don’t feel as if you had to compromise your character or morals to reach for something well deserved, which you know isn’t always the most typical Hollywood starlet story.

You’ve worked really hard, lost some friends along the way because of commitments you couldn’t break, a boyfriend abandoning you in the midst of filming because he was possessive and jealous and some family members doubting the paths you’ve taken to do something you love.

It has been one of the most difficult, enthralling, emotionally exhausting thing that you’ve ever done in your life.

But all of it has been worth it.

It’s how you find yourself starting a movie with Austin Butler, a rom-com at that. And while the plot is a bit predictable, you know that sometimes films can pull themselves right past that if the acting is enchanting—and how wouldn’t it be with Austin as your opposite? The guy’s success speaks for itself and admittedly you’ve seen Elvis an embarrassing amount of times. But what you’ve also learned, while at table reads and getting to know him through going to interviews together to promote the film, he’s incredibly down to earth, genuine, and a hard worker. Like yourself, he puts the craft of the movie he’s working on above all else, he dedicates himself and puts all of his energy into creating the very best character he can for whatever plot he’s immersed into.

It’s also just really nice working with someone who’s patient and supportive, who knows more of the ins and outs of the industry while you’re still learning. Austin doesn’t pretend he knows everything either, he’s humble, a lifelong learner himself but it’s nice to be able to depend on him because he’s been through it a bit more than you have.

You understand how lucky you are—not only to have the opportunity to work on a film that you could consider your big break into the industry, not something that’ll go straight to streaming services or anything like that, but that you’re working with someone who makes it so easy too.

You’re trying not to read into the fact that your agent, amongst others, have noted that there’s real chemistry between you and Austin as well. You’re a professional and so is he, both of you put every fiber of your being into the task at hand…so you would hope that’s quite obvious in your scenes together.

But you’re also well aware that you’re definitely developing somewhat of a crush on your co-star. Probably unavoidable, right? You’re not going to let it get the better of you, the last thing you want to do is cause some sort of drama on set but…this never would have happened with your B side horror films. There’s no room for chemistry there, it’s just cut and dry scary movie tropes.

Not only that? —

“There’s a kiss scene,” You hiss into your phone as you pace in your trailer, your sister on the other end of the line. She’s quiet and you can kinda sense that she’s blinking at you because,

“Uh,” She clears her throat, “You’re doing a rom-com, aren’t you? Isn’t that like the bread and butter of those films?”

You groan lightly, glancing up towards the ceiling before you take a seat on your couch. You can hear your mother’s voice in your head telling you to stop wearing down the carpet. “It’s bad enough that I have a crush on him and now I have to kiss him?”

Robin laughs, the sound ringing against your eardrum, “Oh right, I feel so sorry for you that you have to kiss Austin Butler. Literally, one of the worst things imaginable.” She teases, voice dripping in sarcasm.

You pull the phone away from your ear, glaring at the device as if it’s personally offended you, before bringing it back, “You don’t get it—”

“Does he still have the scruff on his face?” She asks, clearly an important question for her. “Like he’s not clean-shaven, right?”

Your eyebrows draw together before shaking your head, “No I mean—just a little bit of scruff.”

She hums, “I’d definitely be thinking of that mouth elsewhere then.” And oh my god, it clearly was a wrong decision to call her.

“I’m hanging up.” You state, squirming just a little with heat gathering low in your stomach and seeping between your legs.

“Wait,” She laughs, “Stop, I’m sorry.” Robin sighs and you can hear the eyeroll in her tone. “What’s going on, why are you worried?”

You open your mouth to try and explain when there’s a knock on your door with the announcement, “Hair and makeup in five!”

Closing your eyes, you take a deep breath as you stand from the couch, “I gotta go, I’ll text you.”

“Hey look,” Robin squeezes in, “It’s just like riding a bike, alright?” And while you know that’s supposed to be comforting as you hang up, it doesn’t exactly help.

You kinda suck at riding bikes because you could never quite get the brakes right.

--

You tug on the turtleneck you have on, feeling a little overheated. You’re seated on the floor in front of a working fireplace in this makeshift cabin (because of course you are). For this kissing scene, your character realizes that despite losing people in her life that believe in her dream about becoming a veterinarian (her grandfather), Austin’s character is very much her person (always has been) and her family of support.

You’re already on edge because unlike some other rom-coms, this scene is emotional rather than cute. You have to work up tears in your voice but not overdo it, and the kiss is a mutual understanding, rather than Austin’s character leaning in and cutting your words off. Which would be so much easier and less for you to worry about.

Austin sits down next to you on the floor, in a dark green sweater that compliments the blue of his eyes and the dirty blonde curls in his hair. “Nice turtleneck,” He smiles, reaching out to gently tug at the fabric along your neck.

A soft huff of air leaves your lips, swatting his hand away, “I feel like I’m melting into a puddle.”

“We might, depending on how many times we have to do this scene,” He smiles, running a hand through the front part of his hair. And God, right, you haven’t even thought of that—it’s not just one kiss, one scene, one run…it’s multiple so that they have lots of takes to choose from.

Your stomach flip flops all the way into your throat.

Austin’s eyebrows draw together slightly as he looks at you, “You alright? You’re flushed.”

Swallowing over the lump in your throat, you nod, “Just…trying to get into the headspace for the scene.”

Austin nods softly, though it doesn’t seem like he completely believes you. Doesn’t matter, long as he doesn’t ask any questions.

The filming begins after a few moments of calling for silence on set and just as suspected, you’re too caught up in your thoughts for the lines to come out of your mouth organically. You mess up on the one take, the director asks you to go a different direction in the second, a third take turns into five and by the seventh time, your hands are shaking.

You can tell that the director is a tiny bit irritated but not about to take it out on you—but he’s definitely wondering what the problem is when you haven’t had any issues thus far with filming. Your eyes are twinged with tears from the scene itself, the lines, working yourself up and Austin squeezes your fingers in solid support because as the takes get more frustrating, his hand has moved to rest against yours. Which works perfectly for the scene anyways.

“You can ask for a break,” Austin says quietly as the cameras reset, a few lights are fixed.

Shaking your head, you’re feeling utterly stubborn about this, wanting to get it over with and yet stuck behind a barrier that you’ve built up inside your head. “No,” You sniffle, “I can do this.”

“I have no doubt that you can,” He rubs his thumb along your knuckles, “But I can tell you’re upset, beyond the lines you have to say. What’s goin’ on, Y/N?”

Lifting your hand up to wipe at your cheek but hopefully not rough enough to ruin your makeup, you’re suddenly feeling completely overwhelmed at the heavy emotion, your fears and this stupid turtleneck making it a hundred degrees warmer next to this fire.

You go to…say something? Anything that’ll just move this scene along but you can’t get the words out, all that leaves your lips is a small whimper of frustration.

That seems to be more than enough for Austin, who turns towards the director, “Can I take ten?”

The director glances between Austin and you before nodding, yelling out a fifteen-minute break. At that point you don’t care if they have to touch up your makeup, you wipe at your cheeks as Austin pulls himself up from the floor. He offers you a hand to take to help you up and once you’re standing, his palm settles on your lower back to lead you out of the set and towards his trailer.

He walks up the steps, tugging the door open so that you can walk in first. Once inside, you take off this stupid sweater, a sports bra underneath, feeling like you can actually breathe once the fabric is thrown onto the couch. Sniffling, you run a hand over your cheek and neck, skin warm to the touch, probably pink on your cheeks.

Austin moves to the small kitchenette, grabbing a glass to fill with water to hand you. You greedily take a few sips, your heartbeat returning to normal and no longer thrumming against your eardrums as you sit down on his couch.

Austin lets you take the time you need, moving to sit down across from you on his sturdy coffee table, his one hand resting on your knee as a point of comfort.

“You wanna tell me what’s going on?” He asks, blue eyes concerned and patient.

Not in the slightest—but you know you’re going to have to, there’s no way out of it. Especially since you have to go back to set when the break is over and work through the stress of that scene all over again. Closing your eyes for a moment, you take another sip of water before putting the glass beside Austin on the coffee table.

“I know how difficult the emotion scenes can be,” He offers, “You have to dig deep for stuff like that, make it feel as authentic as you can—but it takes a piece of you.”

You sniffle and nod, and while he’s not wrong, “It’s not that,” You say after a moment, “It’s not the script.”

Taking in a short breath, you feel embarrassment hit into your chest like a goddamn tidal wave. You can’t lie to him—not when he’s sitting there worried about you, when at this point in filming Austin can read you a bit like an open book. The last thing you want is to ruin the chemistry of the film by making things uneasy, even though this admittance is definitely the last thing you wanted to discuss with him.

“It’s the kiss,” You blurt out and Austin…draws his eyebrows together, clearly confused, because that’s not what he expected you to say.

“You—don’t want to kiss me?”

“No,” You reply far too quickly, your cheeks heating—pretty sure if you still had that turtleneck on it would have been close enough to catch on fire, “No, I mean—of course I want to kiss you.” Oh my god.

Austin smiles slowly, amusement dancing in his eyes and you’re this close to finding somewhere in this trailer to hide. You let out a groan, your head tipping back as tension slips out of your body, curls off your skin like smoke. A long breath leaves your lips, picking your hands up to cover your face for one moment.

“You’re the worst.” You mumble.

“Clearly,” Austin jokes, moving to take your hands down from your face. He squeezes your fingers. “Would completely explain why you don’t wanna kiss me.”

There’s this playful glare you give him, allowing him to keep hold of your hands as you squeeze back. “Stop,” You laugh softly, “Stop teasing me so I can explain.”

Austin straightens his shoulders and nods, not making fun of you, but conveying that he’s seriously listening to what you have to say. His thumb traces a circle along the back of your hand and with that soothing motion, you continue,

“I had a boyfriend about three years ago who dumped me because I was working too much. There was all this…other stuff about being on set and how he didn’t trust me,” A soft eyeroll, “Just utter bullshit. But what I’m trying to say is that…” You take a short breath,

“It’s been a long time since I’ve kissed anyone—I’ve been busy working and starring in B side horror films and the last thing I’m doing on those is kissing anyone because I’m running from zombies or…ax murderers. Aliens.”

A soft chuckle rumbles in Austin’s chest but he nods, this…affectionate gaze on you that makes your whole entire body buzz with warmth.

“I let it get into my head, kissing you. And how I might be bad at it.”

There was a lot more to it, about it affecting your chemistry with him, about it being obvious during playbacks that there were sparks missing, that directors and casting leads might start second guessing hiring you in the first place.

All these self-doubting, self-conscious moments wrapped up into one, topped with an overly emotional scene that already had your heart pounding in your ears.

“I don’t think that’s possible,” Austin smiles and he’s far too sweet for his own good.

You crinkle your nose, “Not to make this sound like a schoolyard fight but—how would you know?”

Austin hums lightly, licking his lips and before you can throw another question his way or maybe derail this conversation entirely, he lifts his hand to cup your cheek. Your heart soars right into your throat as he leans down and captures your mouth with his own. It only takes you a half of a moment to react, tilting your head into the kiss.

It lasts a bit longer than you expect, a soft noise of pleasure leaving your throat as Austin deepens it, a little flash of tongue. It’s over before you even have time to process what’s happened, your breath catching in your chest as you look down at his mouth when he pulls away, bruised a bit pink. That reaches right into your ribcage and clenches around your heart.

“Not to sound all schoolyard back,” He says after a moment, his voice an octave lower, a bit rougher around the edges, “But ‘told you so’.”

There’s a definite eyeroll that follows that but…you can’t deny that the sentiment does make you feel better. You carry it with you when the break is called and you have to dive right back into the scene.

“Figure we’d get that out of the way so we can concentrate,” Austin teases as you settle into the scene. And…when it comes time for the kiss? It a lot more natural, soft smiles shared between you and Austin that have nothing to do with acting as you lean in and capture one another’s lips.

Both of you miss the yelling of cut! at least twice.

You feel your body heat up once again, pulse racing, but attempt to blame it all on the turtleneck you’re wearing. Once the scene is over, you leave the set with Austin, walking with him towards the food tent to grab some dinner before the late-night shooting begins. You’re definitely proud of how the scene turned out, despite being slightly emotionally exhausted at having to produce tears that feel authentic.

And you can’t stop thinking about how Austin’s lips felt against your own.

“Tired?” Austin asks as you both grab to-go containers to fill up, “You’re practically swayin’ on your feet.”

You offer a small smile, “Yeah, nothing a cat-nap and some caffeine won’t fix.” You attempt to stick to a light dinner so you don’t feel even more weighed down—a chicken salad, garlic bread because you can’t pass it up (and because there are no other kissing scenes tonight).

“I guess that’s the trade off though for a pretty heavy scene.”

Austin playfully bumps your shoulders, “Definite pay off though, you were great.”

A soft laugh even though you appreciate the compliment, you feel as if you can’t quite take it, “Right, after my three meltdowns.”

“All part of the process.” Austin grins, closing his to-go container.

You hum lightly even though you are thankful for him, for the conversation you had in his trailer. You’re not quite sure you would have gotten through the scene, or at least done it well, without talking to him about what was bothering you.

“Though I guess the moral of the story is,” Austin turns his body towards yours as you both walk out of the tent, back in the direction of the trailers, “If you’re havin’ trouble with the whole kissing thing—you know where my trailer is.”

Your eyebrows raise in amusement, the corners of your mouth pulling into a smile, “I can’t believe you said that with a straight face.”

“Oh I’m completely serious.”

“I can see that,” You laugh, your stomach doing a total somersault.

You then pause right outside your trailer, reaching out to touch his elbow to get him to stop walking. You take a step up onto the stairs, almost making your heights equal, your eyes taking in the warmth from his expression. You lean down just because you can and kiss him, something short and sweet, your noses brushing in a bunny kiss once you part.

“Thanks for the offer.”

Austin smirks, nipping at your lower lip with his own, “Sure, just lemme know if you want to take me up on it.”

You smile, watching him head back to his own trailer to eat dinner. Walking up the rest of your steps, your phone buzzes on the counter where you’ve left it, reaching to open up a text from your sister as you sit down on the couch.

Robin: well, how’d it go?

Still smiling, you text back,

Y/N: not about to kiss and tell 😉

[hwaightme]

Your fan, Yeosang (part 1)

(part 2) (your fan ml)

📺 pairing: yeosang x talk show host!reader 📺 genre: romance, fluff, mutual pining, 📺 summary: a bulletpoint-style wordstream of what it would be like if yeosang was stanning you 📺 wordcount: 3.5k 📺 warnings/tags: language, yeosang lowkey writing fanfics, manhandling, wooyoung attacks, roommate gathering, mc yeosang, reader is a late night talk show host, exo and txt appearances, wooyoung has connections everywhere, yeosang always has a plan even when you think he doesn't 📺 taglist: @acciocriativity, @senpai-of-doom, @layzfeelit @jcngh0-hq @ficrecsiguess 📺 a/n: Hello there <3 guess who's next in line to stan? None other than Kang to the Yeo to the Sang!! Hope you enjoy, much love and big hugs, and any asks, reblogs and likes appreciated <3

All the way back, even from the stories of your childhood that your parents would tell you, you always had a thing for asking a lot of questions, without giving up until you got a response.

And you did not stop at "why is the sky blue", oh no, you would go right in and ask whoever you had picked to be your target questions along the lines of "why are good people good at giving love but not receiving it".

It was not because you wanted to annoy anyone, in fact, you never once got mad when someone brushed you off or openly expressed their distaste for what they called "your pointless chatter". Quite the opposite. You enjoyed getting into the nitty gritty of human emotions, really getting a feel for other people's energy.

In return, if you were able to make conversation and really connect with someone, you tried your best to be caring, attentive and selfless. You were the smiley toddler who waved at everyone. You were the kid in school who made sure everyone was included.

Although the more people you spoke to, the more not so positive experiences you got, you were not discouraged from pursuing a career in doing exactly what you loved. Talking, listening and learning all that you could about your interlocutors. You could not imagine your life without other people, and as such, ended up being the person who brought others together, and helped them rise to new heights.

First, it was broadcasting and radio clubs in middle school and high school, as well as earning the reputation of being the go-to host for talent shows. In university you had become the president of the Broadcasting & Journalism society, and had led your alma mater's socials and student-led news show to gaining recognition in national media for their quality, insightfulness, and a fresh, memorable feel.

All throughout your journey, you were driven by people and wanted to learn more about them. So when, while you were hopping between internships, you were scouted by a major media label to become a fulltime journalist and prospectively a show host, it was nothing short of the best thing to happen to you in your life.

Initially, it was a rollercoaster, with you being thrown around from one project to another, working in areas where you had to learn on the go - screenwriting assistant, director's assistant... truth be told you had no idea there could be that many assistants.

What had stuck to you were a couple of variety shows that you had the chance to see behind the scenes, along with a couple more formal interviews. The gears in your head started turning, as you watched the high profile figures, promoting themselves, going through the usual routines, doing aegyo and whatnot.

To you, celebrities were a sort of beautiful enigma, even though it initially seemed that their entire lives were available to the public - how wrong. Behind each persona was someone else entirely, and you adored catching glimpses of said realness.

This was exactly what had motivated you to propose the concept for your late night show "Late Night Dive". Dedicated to deep diving, and really getting to know idols, actors and the like, your show was all about the person. Not excessively curated, just pleasantly minimalist. Raw. Real.

Thanks to your prior experience in being a stand-in announcer for a twenty-four hour news channel (aside from what you had done while in education), you were no stranger to being in front of the camera, and having worked in enough departments to make strong connections, your boss agreed to give you a chance.

And now, here you were, going strong, having become a celebrity that interviewed celebrities.

---

And were watched diligently by others. Others like ATEEZ's Kang Yeosang.

Although he had continuous exposure to performing, speaking singing on stage, and had even become an MC for The Show, he never, not for one second, thought he had the right to rest.

He was always looking for ways to improve and to hone the skills that he considered lacking (even when his fellow members and ATINY would praise him). For Yeosang, there was no such thing as 'stop'.

Aside from upping his game quite literally whilst playing the newly released Aenigmata, and working together with Hongjoong and Mingi to improve his song-writing abilities, he was determined to be the next best MC and spent day after day working on it.

He took monologues and repeated them until he, nor his roommates, could stand it any longer. He went over cue cards to improve his memory and to combat his instinct to hide behind them and read whilst looking down. He listened to shows, paid extra attention to the MCs he worked with and those he interacted with through the group's promotional activities - anything was good in his books.

Yeosang knew how to listen, he felt deeply, he was always there for those closest to him, but he did not want to let his members down when it came to speaking and engaging in fun dialogues live. The desire to find his own style grew stronger, day by day.

It would be foolish to try and be like the others, he had concluded. And the members had told him the same during one late night conversation where Yeosang had brought up his concerns about being a talk show host. So, it was clear:

"I am Yeosang, and I am not like other girls." he had proclaimed, with a dramatic 'hair flip'.

He began to search for inspiration outside of standard variety shows and music award programmes, having grasped their methods well enough to emulate. For some time, Yeosang focused on competitions and survival shows, though it did not exactly bring him comfort, nor confidence. That was when it hit him - late night talk shows. They were entertaining, informative, and had a completely different feel.

And after browsing through popular lists and and making his own (only to cross items off again), pushing through his disappointment when he discovered that far too many of said shows were still obnoxiously loud and better watched at double speed, he had finally discovered one show that was exactly to his tastes: 'Late Night Dive'.

Intentionally toned down studio set, warm lighting that gave off a more 'homely' atmosphere, music used staying within the realms of rhythm and blues or smooth jazz, and you truly being the host. The show and you were a perfect match, so he was not surprised when after a bit of Googling he had found out that the show had been your initiative.

You were welcoming. The episode that had established 'Late Night Dive' as a sought-after promotion for various celebrities, with none other than EXO, had shown your deep understanding of their journey, their challenges, and nothing but utmost respect. You had a unique way of easing guests into the questions, and stepping away as soon as there was even a hint of tension.

It was as though you could see right into their soul, and was gently bringing the best parts to share, whilst encouraging the owner that yes, they were safe, and what they had to share was valid, and beyond beautiful.

Yeosang had no idea how to describe the feeling he got while watching some more episodes of your show. The way you guided the conversation and posed questions in such a manner that meant an individual had options (instead of being cornered into making a fool of themselves, for instance), had left him in utter disbelief.

He was used to surprises - the veering off-script for a gag, or for emphasising an error committed for comedic effect. This was entirely absent. In fact, during a particularly sensitive episode where an actress had divulged some details about her struggles while filming a new drama (information that had never surfaced before), you had explicitly asked for consent to air, and in a borderline therapeutic voice had commended the actress for what she had been doing.

You were a bringer of tranquility. You were there not for a superficial chat and waves goodbye, it seemed that every episode was a glimpse into a tale of life-long friendship. And this stunned Yeosang. You knew exactly what to say, even though he had not spotted any cards, nor any sign of reading from a screen at any point. Your heart was working for you, he was sure of it.

This was the style he wanted to learn.

To keep it on the low, he started his quest by allocating half an hour, every night, to what he called 'LND Time'. This involved him creeping away from the rest of the members, plugging his headphones in, and, notepad and pen in hand, noting down particularly well-phrased questions or statements that you had made.

Yeosang had also begun to enjoy writing down observations for what gestures that you did were effective in emphasising a point, which ones were done for reassurance, which ones were plain cute-

He was writing fan fiction about you wasn't he? While he was in the midst of processing the fact that he had, over the span of a few of weeks, had nearly filled out an entire pocket notepad with just you facts, and needed his brain to reboot, a voice right behind him made all his systems crash.

"What'cha writin'?"

So much for privacy. He thanked the lucky stars that he had the reflexes to slam the book shut and lie down on it before Wooyoung could see anything. Though he knew his friend would not let go of any suspicious behaviour that easily.

Especially not when your show continued playing on his phone, that was lying upright, and of course there had to be a close up of your gorgeous face, then and there for Wooyoung to see.

"OOOOH HOLD ON A SECOND!? Forget THAT question what are you WATCHING? CAN I JOIN?"

"My guy, didn't I tell you and Jongho to leave me alone for half an hour?"

"Now I am more than fascinated by what exactly you do alone in this room for half an hour!? Besides, it's been one and a half hours now, and I kind of live here too~" Wooyoung wiggled his eyebrows as he explained, and while Yeo was busy taking his earphones out and locking his phone for good measure, Wooyoung went in for a full attack.

He tackled Yeosang, and since he managed to use the surprise to his advantage, nearly pushed his friend off the bed with the notebook exposed.

But, in gains we trust.

And so did Yeosang. In a matter of seconds, he had Wooyoung flailing his arms and legs as he had been swung over his shoulder like a toga, and turned to 'kindly' teach his friend a new way of using the door.

The commotion had gained the attention of Jongho, who had been passing the time by belting 90's hit songs at the top of his voice in the living room - much to the delight of those he had been keeping as (hostages) an audience.

Claiming that his roommates had finally decided to hold an idol boxing match and that he had promised to referee, he placed his hands behind his back and ambled towards a now slightly open door, through which he could see Wooyoung pushing against the frame with his dear life.

"You are doing MMA in here wait let me grab the guys-"

"NONONONONO JONGHO SAVE ME!"

"And what will I get out of it?"

"....I'll clean the room?" Wooyoung offered, still suspended in midair, but, having wriggled a little way forward was on the verge of toppling onto the floor.

"Woo you'll do it anyway." Jongho replied, smiling just a tid-bit sadistically and crossing his arms.

He stepped into the room and shut the door with his foot, scrutinising the aftermath of the impromptu match. Nothing was on fire, nor was any furniture broken - so he was still going to have to share with two roommates.

In an act of mercy, Jongho decided that he was too bored to prolong the older member's suffering and motioned to Yeosang for attention.

"Put the guy down. And I don't mean like euthanasia. Even though he barks."

"HEY EXCUSE ME."

"I'll leave that pleasure to myself if you are going to act up."

"Okay brutal but thank you Jongho~" now finally back on his feet, the dazed member was shaking himself off and pressing his hands to his face in a feeble attempt to cool down.

"Now I know the real origin story of your hair. It was Yeo's doing wasn't it?"

"Yeah the blood flow really does something." Wooyoung agree, instinctively running his hands through his locks.

Yeosang had edged away from the two members back to his bed, to take the opportunity to hide the notepad somewhere, anywhere. He only had time to shove it under his pillow, but neither Jongho nor Wooyoung seemed to notice, as the former merely stated:

"Well good, now let's chat, gents."

Did Yeosang want to chat? No.

Did Jongho look done with everyone? Yes.

Did that mean he had to be at least a little bit considerate of his friend? Probably.

But did he want to though? No.

"What is there to chat about though?" he blurted, flopping down on his bed and stretching across its length, resting his head on his palms.

"Uh, well it's the room hogging for me." Jongho retorted, settling right across from him while Wooyoung sat at the foot of Yeo's bed.

"No such thing. I just need space."

"I don't have a problem with that dude, and you know I don't, but if you tell us why, that would be great." the maknae was persistent, and leaned in to click his fingers over Yeo's face a couple of times when he unceremoniously shut them to pretend he was in another galaxy.

"Jongho, he keeps notes." the redhead stage whispered, glancing at Yeosang, who looked like he was ready to exploit Wooyoung's choice of sitting too close to his legs.

"What notes?"

"Ones that he would kill me for."

"Kind of a cheap exchange, but makes sense."

"Boo that's rude-"

"The notes, Yeo? Songwriting?"

"Sure." finally seeing some sort of opportunity to steer clear of explaining himself, he took Jongho's question as a suggestion for a fib to tell.

"Smells like bullshit to me, my boy." but he forgot they knew him a little too well.

"Agreed, plus I saw a certain lady on a screen~"

There was no way of getting around this, but Yeosang was a man who did not give up that easily, so he resisted:

"No, seriously, it was a song! And that, well haha, uhm, a tutorial? Yeah."

"Sing the song then!" Wooyoung implored, patting his friend on his knee in encouragement.

"No melody?"

"What is it about?" Jongho joined back in.

"Uhh............ fried chicken." Yeosang was impressed by his own mastery. Truly, a one of a kind lie. Stellar. Award winning. At least the two looked a lot more accepting of his secretive warfare than before.

So he ended up being strong enough to make Jongho impatient and leave the room. The same could not be said for Wooyoung, who was now attempting to smother him by hugging out his soul.

"YEOSANG DON'T CONCEAL DO FEEL AND DO LET THEM KNOW! Well more specifically let me know because I can see you are super passionate about something and I really want to feel that passion with you because hey this is what brotherly bonding is about and I want to rejoice in the positivity and you have no idea how proud I am of you and so I really wanted to spend some time together just the two of us and really just wanted to say that you have grown so much and did you know that you have absolutely been slaying the episodes for your MCing gig-"

"Wait really?" Yeosang shot up, abruptly cutting off Wooyoung's stream of words.

After Wooyoung reloaded himself for a second, he half asked, half confirmed with an: "uh, yeah?"

"Like how, in what way? What aspects?

"Weren't we talking about-"

"We passed that checkpoint, keep moving. In what way did I improve?"

Wooyoung's total confusion nearly made Yeosang chortle as he slid down to sit by him, but he was too eager to hear what his friend had to say.

"Well... there was this... thing you did. I think it was even off script? But you did it so naturally it was almost like dorm-Yeo rather than 'I am now on stage and I must be strict with myself'-Yeo. You just picked up on something one of the other MC's said and your words just flowed. You just flowed. And even how you were standing was slightly different. Dare I say, you looked a lot more comfortable in front of the camera!"

"Okay I will tell you what I was watching."

"What was so special about that compliment?"

"For the few weeks I've been hogging this room I've been training. And I have found the perfect teacher."

Wooyoung asked him to backtrack and explain in more detail, which he did, step by step. He recounted the search he had gone on, his motivations, and finally, how he had found you. With newfound confidence he took out his phone and showed Wooyoung a couple of his favourite clips, all while running a background commentary of why you might just be the best talk show host and interviewer of all time. If there was ever a moment for Wooyoung to melt, it would be now. Yeosang's enthusiasm and appreciation of your work was not only infectious (and completely well-founded), but also came right from the heart.

It was clearer than a blue sky that you had become Yeosang's hope in the MC world. He had not exposed himself fully, but Wooyoung could guess that his friend probably had done a deep dive on you already, and continued watching your shows exclusively not just because you were 'a good teacher'.

This man, was a fan. Likely a little bit (a lot) more than just that. So what did such an amazing friend like Wooyoung have to do, despite being manhandled barely twenty minutes ago?

Network. Find connections. And bring you two together.

"Yeo, how would it make you feel if you got to meet Y/N? Like, face to face?"

"I would probably forget my own mother tongue, but aside from that - I would just be grateful. I could pass her a note about how much she..."

"Means to you-"

"HELPED me, Woo."

"Yeah, whatever. But now I have a goal!" he rose up, fist raised as if he was about to start a revolution.

"Wait wait wait what are you trying here?"

"TO SET UP YOUR FUTURE, DUH! Now excuse me, I have some phone calls to make.

So, Yeosang's spur of the moment plan had worked seamlessly. He patted himself on the back as he watched an over-excited Wooyoung strut out of his room, already messaging someone and simultaneously calling an already-waiting Jongho over.

It was quite easy to get Wooyoong to be a perfect middle man if one were to act the at the right levels of mysteriousness. Since he knew he had been cornered, Yeosang decided to change strategies and get something out of his fellow members, who would undoubtedly get excited about any mention of him treating someone outside of the group with such care and attention (especially if he did not know them personally).

He played the part of 'I am shy and not revealing my secrets', then transforming that demeanour into 'you are the closest person to me so I am telling the truth and baring my heart to you'. And BAM, he could now hear Wooyoung shushing the other members as he was calling Yeonjun from TXT.

Yeosang was impressed, however, when it took his friend only three days to go through his connections, and through his connections' connections and find the ones that led directly to you. And to a meeting with you, to which you somehow agreed, though under an odd condition.

That someday, you could interview him.

"As MC to MC. As two people with a similar style and passion."

You were one two keep your finger on the pulse of media at all times. And when you heard what you knew to be a quote from an older episode of LND, said in a similar manner to yours, you simply had to speak to the MC who had done it. After all, you had a thing for asking a lot of questions.

[1eoness]

BROOO u were literally probably the first author whose fic i read when i first searched up leon smuts last year 😭 ur works r so good n idk if u'll see this but it's nice to hear abt ur perspective, i feel like fics abt leon these days r so fucked up and scary, it reminds me of when i first read a fic of yours and it was nothing but normal and hot? i just mean it's like, what fanfiction should be, how smuts should be, just p in v and stuff without all that crazy shit, it sucks to see writers these days waste their talent on writing dead dove fics that are so horrendous that it really affected me mentally

helloo!! (im not dead mueheaheah)

WARNING : Mentions of dead dove content and the likes of its themes!

before i talk : [HIIIIII HEHAHEH thank you for your support!! i'm glad you liked my (very subpar) work! now that i look back on it those themes did enter a somewhat gray line at some point because i lacked a lot of experience in writing. i do not condone ever letting your professor have sex with you nor do i promote any kind of hate-motivated sex, or dubcon! it was merely a bold attempt of expressing hormones (if you know 😭) like a lot of people my age commonly do and so i had (and still have to) reedit the tropes in my work a bit, also because i turned 18 now and i wanna readjust my boundaries! i hope you dont mind. regardless, i love that you like those themes. very good! love you!! /p]

anyway, leaning more towards the topic at hand. i don't doubt that your opinion is much different than a large part of the community under this tag. which is a very, very good thing! i'm pretty sure it was ever since @/gilfhub's posts started to quickly rise in the top pages that lead a lot of users to be influenced and begin to tear down a very, very important boundary. i'm very sorry to hear that being exposed to that affected you mentally, that's the entire reason why i absolutely abhor blogs that post and enable that content. you're not alone on that either <3 and i agree! people should ALWAYS write boundaries in mind. i've lurked around the tag a lot and noticed a lot of "popular" writers who also have an alternative blog for dark content (this isn't just a specific account, there are a lot of these.) warnings don't make things better, they don't fend witnesses away, and it doesn't make you any less insensitive. "dead dove content" itself (which is really just incestual/horribly taboo sexual assault fantasies, no need to sanitize it) should always be suppressed and private (or, well, NOT WRITTEN AT ALL). the moment you put it up on any kind of digital page, you are attracting ANY kind of viewer and none of that shit is cute, i'm sorry. projecting your trauma onto a character is one thing but writing them as someone who skips the morality line is just straight up trying to exercise your power through the wrong means. just as much as you have the power to express yourself, you also have the power to make someone very uncomfortable. people don't think about these situations in the long run, that's why. they seem to really like using the "leon is just a character, i promise he won't care" argument which i also think is total bullshit cause this isn't even about leon, it just entirely reflects what your true values really are. they centralize around the need to express yourself at the expense of other people's comfort (because, for the nth time, it's a public space with an unpredictable demographic yet people seem to really like just doing the "bare minimum" on their part). whilst your perception of a traumatic experience may be valid, it doesn't give you any excuse. this is far from the idea of free individualistic expression, it is just as bad as some 4channer posting about wanting similar situations be inflicted onto them with even real, sentient people. because we all know why these themes allow themselves to be exposed to the audience and that's because it tries to appeal to a very specific group of people (which is very disgusting.) they want to be so condescending, too. like "oh grow up, i'm all under ur skin and for what." it's blatant ignorance, you're not very smart!

and finally as ironic as it is, porn is to blame for enabling a lot of similar themes. it's so obvious, too, a lot of fictions like the ones you mentioned that are dead dove always have to mention pornography titles in it. (honestly doesn't have to be dead dove either). sanitization can be done in MANY ways, and a lot of the times I notice it's through the way of romanticizing or aestheticizing it. I'm talking about those who put up mini pinterest-board headers of like three whatevercore images and then putting lyrics at the bottom of it. it's like an attempt at writing a very bad fucking movie not gonna lie. for example, they end up trying to decorate their post with elements that fall under anything curated aesthetic. and guess what? we've all been there but NOT for writing about uncle!character and their kid reader thats just flat out WEIRD. trust me you are NOT anais nin, you do not have to write lyrical prose and try to beautify something that will always be ugly and demented to its very core. you cannot call dead dove content "artistic vents", either. i also think i can understand that some people are victims who have failed to get help thus they try to cope through other means. but i will never applause someone for making the right choices. i think there's no excuse behind writing dead dove content other than to self mutilate your mental health in the long run for a temporary moment of "safe fun", and not even knowing that it is also in/directly harming the public eye.

it's rotten. it's disgusting. dead dove writers should not be welcomed in any fictional writing space. i've been triggered over and over again and it made me put off writing and reading for a very long time. i've experienced something similar before and i have gone crazy over it, and trust me, the things these people write so "generously" for their viewers are NOTHING but toxic waste.

tumblr is NOT your space, but everyone has a space in tumblr, so be conscious of yours.

i also encourage people to not stay silent on the matters if they want to speak up on it but are afraid of getting backlash. i've seen people delete their accounts over it (which, i guess is good on them since then they won't have to confront this kind of space anymore).

[wulfhalls]

not our fault waltella always giggle around each other and forget the personal space around each other. and have fuck me look in their eyes when they look at each other. they're the actors doing what the actors usually do when they promote their sexy shows and movies duh 😭

everyone always tags the actors offscreen with the onscreen ship name of their characters. like, it was like that since forever idk where these people have been all these years? it's clear that they just hate the ship and that's why they whining. outrage over some completely irrelevant fandom stuff?

obsessively writing a long ass post to defend their insane stance? a blog made in 2022 with only a handful of posts (none of which are fallout related)?... sounds like your typical twitter user with zero braincells

lmao????? the actors doing promo together have been tagged with their ship names since the down of times, like what??????and of course they exude chemistry, they are actors, are we supposed to ignore this? that ship really made some people up in the arms, huh?

This is the monster fucking website? how are people surprised about a ship involving a ghoul? and you didn’t tag the rpf ship?! Like you tagged a photo with the names of actors, you tagged the show ship. Isn’t that the point of tagging on tumblr? If you want to go into the actor tag but don’t want to see ship stuff, you’ll get your blacklist note and ignore the post? Like people use irl photos of actors together for their ships all the time. People tag the actors when you gif scenes they’re in and if it’s characters of even the most minor ship, or the most minor interaction, the ship can be tagged. Same for like BTS stuff? People went crazy when Kit and Emilia had a photoshoot together and like idk I don’t even watch this show but like it’s so annoying that this is clearly just hating on a popular ship! It sucks when your canon ship is not popular but like 😐 this is NOT the way to fix your FYP or experience. You didn’t @ the actors, if they’re searching themselves or their spouses are on tumblr and they don’t want to see monster ships they’re on the WRONG website. If they’re on tumblr and you started to @ them everytime the actors interacted then yeah you’d be making them uncomfortable but that’s not what you did? Also they @ you instead of going “oh their blog isn’t for me” and blocking you! Boom blocking you clears up the posts from the tag

all of my anons said fuck around and find out thx guys <33 let's continue being sexi taste havers and enjoy our lil not even that toxic ship <3 while other grown ass adults pretend tagging actors as their ship on tumblr.com constitutes a hate crime. anywho. we in our lane living loving laughing no phones in sight just people living in the moment

[raytoropussysupremacy]

Okay, so my partner and I just watched The Midnight Curfew, the unauthorized documentary, and the vibes were BIZARRE. I don’t see a lot in the tag for it, so here goes, it’s long, sorry:

Gerard is basically the only band member that’s talked about (shocker) and they’re painted as a tortured, mentally unstable genius and nothing else. One of the interviewees admitted to -punching Gerard in the face- to get them to calm down and seemed? Proud of it? And they called Gerard’s abscessed tooth an “overblown toothache” and said it caused them a lot of drama and hardship because they were in so much pain that it was making it hard to record and the interviewees were -annoyed- about it..

Mikey was mentioned as “Gerard’s brother, so I guess he HAD to be there, he was awful at bass, didn’t know how to play bass at all.” And then later in the documentary “Mikey saved the recording session from all of Gerard’s drama by being calm and just playing bass”.

Ray wasn’t mentioned significantly, but there -were- recordings of him talking about the beginnings of the band. Edit: I thought this was uncredited, but it was just really hard to tell through the captioning. It was credited, it was just his voice though? Like it was taken from a separate interview?

Frank was surprisingly mentioned almost not at all, his enthusiasm for the band, his scorpion tattoo, how his connections in the scene really helped with promotion, etc. none of that was mentioned. Basically nothing about the music itself was mentioned.

The owner of Eyeball Records called My Chem a nerdy band (confusing; they are, but that’s not their sound) and then said that once nerds started doing school shootings, we as a culture were forced to pay more attention to them so it didn’t happen again. And that My Chem seemed like the school shooting types of nerds??? Coldest take in the universe, what the fuck are you talking about.

Another interviewee (I can’t remember them all, sorry, they also look really similar) called their music ‘emo’ which is one of my biggest fucking pet peeves. Emo is not! 👏🏻 A! 👏🏻 Music! 👏🏻 Genre! 👏🏻 The bands that have been labeled as such do not sound similar at all, try again! Also My Chem have explicitly said, early on even, that that is not a word they associate with their music. They’ve used ‘violent pop’ and ‘rock’ as categories in interviews.

Also the documentary starts and is intermittently punctuated by a lilting, extremely posh-sounding English person that makes the whole thing feel like a David Attenborough nature documentary. Their perspective is very detached and it sounds like they’re writing an article based off secondhand knowledge, it’s very fucking weird.

The interviewees also talk about the band leaving Eyeball Records and signing to a major label and the vibe is ‘sad bitter exes’. The documentary feels like Divorce Court at this point. Not an actual quote but it was like “My Chem did what they had to do in order to break out and be bigger, and it stung. It was devastating, I cried about it, but I’m happy for them!! If I’m not what they need that’s fine! It’s….fine.”

And obviously the funniest part was everyone saying that they don’t know how the band are going to top themselves, and they’d better not overthink it or they’re going to crash and burn. This came out shortly before Black Parade, so RIP to these men’s egos.

I would love to know more people’s thoughts on this thing, weirdest hour I’ve ever spent in my life so far.

[anendoandfriendo]

Hello!

AKA the Forever-WIP Post

We're The Rusanya Collective, or just "Rusanya" collectively. We're a protogenic-endogenic (or, to simplify, recursigenic) system of over 300 folks, many of who consider themselves factual fictives and/or soulbonds.

We'd like to think we're some form of queer for the most part, but we haven't really had a good chance to interact with an offline culture yet (we plan to work on this AT SOME POINT but we just got a promotion at our new job and like, are trying to recover from retail & other assorted bullshit).

We like to look at pretty art on this website and read & write stories even if we don't do that much anymore and listen to podcasts. We like video games and watching TV & movies and working on our headspace & simply plural and trying to be happy on our social media while being open as an Autistic system.

We have a cat who is called Cookie. We have a double BA in psychology and social justice from which we graduated in 2020 with. We are just learning to cook in general but especially with a slow cooker, which is better for our ADHD. We actually like living in our current apartment, which has been much better for our overall health (especially mental health) which is important to us.

We don't really have a DNI but we do block if we feel like we don't want you here. You could've been a bigot or maybe you just set us off talking about potato salad one too many times.

Links to Stuff

Throne Wishlist - Please?

Cash App - You can also just straight up tip us on this Tumblr but, welp, if Cash App makes you feel better we want that option to be available.

Our Pillowfort Account, Our SpaceHey, Our Cohost, & Our Aethy Account (18+) - If shit hits the fan with Tumblr, these are where you can maybe find us. If you are mutuals with us or we know who you were/are while we were at university you may also message us for our Discord but we cannot guarantee we will actually hand it out 'cause of our personal anxiety stuff.

Sideblogs

@rusanya-does-edits - Our new edit blog!! We made it because we've made so many of them we just figured this would be easier on us. XD

@rusanyas-sunshine - We're bringing this back because we've realized we have a lot of things we need to hear and none of them are supposed to be mean.

Directory for headmates' sideblogs. We don't use our own sideblogs too often, but we like having them anyways. Feel free to follow and block whomever if you want to keep up with certain folks or avoid others.

Other

We're the queue mutual lol, that is to say, we use both the queue and fast reblog options. Good luck with that!

Our dividers were made by @hypnosiacon, tysm for these! They're great and we like swirlies lol.

Please, please, PLEASE send us asks! We have been needing to update this for ages, but generally, these are the requisite things to keep in mind when doing so. We have those needs for personal safety/wellbeing, but like, it's also very much case by case too so if you need something just...say so? And we want to have fun too! Small talk, infodumps about special interests, cool shit, anything really, those can also go in the ask box.

If you are sending us an ask in reference to another being, please see these guidelines and read through them before you do.

If you are asking us why we do not tag posts as default, please see this specific post before you do, but feel absolutely free to ask for a tag on a per-post basis and try to link/indicate the post for us.

We probably aren't gonna bitecha in the mean way unless you're being a jerk. It can take awhile for us to get through asks but, well, we do try!

We play ClanGen sometimes, we have Pluralityclan so far, our general tag is "#rusanya plays clangen" without the quotations. We are open to others suggesting lore and details for cats who do not have planned lore/details or in-depth lore/details.

Hm. Besides that, we have a bunch of userboxes and cannot remember for the life of us where some of them have come from (except the pro-MOGAI and romanticizing plurality ones, we made those ourselves a long long time ago on our defunct account)!

------------

♤♤ anendoandfriendo ♤♤

~ Art from picsart ~

[A sparkly signature image. The background is the endogenic system flag, recursigenic flag, and protogenic flag. The endogenic flag has the treblesand on it. Amber from Genshin Impact is on the left side of the image; Cinderella from Disney's Cinderella and Aquamarine Hoshino from Oshi No Ko are on the right side. The words "They/Them (pl.)" sit in the bottom corner of the image.]

[literaphobe]

hello everyone :) as someone who’s been in fandom spaces for a decade and creating content for half that time i think i’d like to talk about the concept of intrinsic value vs extrinsic value: especially when it comes to tumblr, a site where low reblog rates and terrible reblog-to-likes ratios have been an ongoing and worsening problem!

this is something younger people in fandom should know, i think, and it’s something i’ve learned and reinforced over the years myself. often times i see fandom creators complain about how punishing making art/writing/creating anything is, and how absolutely disheartening it is when they don’t get the traction they want, or when they see other people being more successful. it’s discouraging. it could make you feel inferior. you wonder what you’re doing wrong. i’m here to assure you that it’s Absolutely nothing — art is such a subjective thing, and timing and chance have so much to play. just because you are not as ‘popular’ does not mean you are less talented

however, that’s where the problem starts: if you only derive extrinsic value (validation from others) from making fandom content, you are setting yourself up for heartbreak and disappointment. if you are suffering a lot (sacrificing sleep, time, energy) to make fandom content and the only thing that makes it feel worth it is potential popularity, then i genuinely suggest you stop or cut down the amount you create for the sake of your health

i know it sounds so silly and obvious: make art only if you like it! write only if you have fun doing it! but that is how fandom works. that’s how it all started. none of us are doing this because we have to. we do it because we want to. and if you feel like making fandom content is making you more unhappy than happy, then i recommend you stop/take a break. there is NO shame in that. there are multiple ways to participate in fandom. there is no right or wrong as long as you aren’t hurting anyone. you don’t have to ‘make content’ to be absolutely vital to the community. every single person who interacts positively is important. just put out the energy you want to feel in a fandom space and that is the best thing you could possibly do :)

i absolutely understand the appeal of getting attention and love and appreciation for the things you do. however, it cannot be your sole motivation. this is something true of content creation in general. when you ask successful ccs what tips they have for streaming, most of them say do it because you like it. don’t do it for clout or it’ll kill your motivation. it’s the same for fandom spaces. it’s even more true for fandom spaces, because no one is paying us. and that’s why when i write/make any form of content i constantly ask myself the same question. am i having fun? is this worth it even if no one else cared? and if the answer is yes i go on!

in the same way how small ccs cannot expect big ccs to just ‘give’ them popularity and receive a huge dedicated following overnight, it is counterproductive to expect bigger blogs to reblog any and every piece of fandom content they see. and especially in smaller fandom spaces like tumblr, what we really need to emphasize and promote in general is interaction — reblog the things you like! talk about what you liked in the tags. whether you are a big blog or a small one, this is incredibly vital to any fan community. you might think you’re not making a difference because your reblog doesn’t expose a person’s work to thousands of followers, but i have personally found the greatest meaning in one sincerely made comment than i have in like… hundreds of silent likes/reblogs. the point is, as understandable as it is to resent blogs with huge followings who i cannot speak for, there is so, SO much power in all of us as individual members of this community

it goes without saying that we should encourage and support creators in any fandom. however, it worries me to see fans, especially young people in fandom, tear themselves apart over making content, things that should be joyful experiences. it’s worrying to see resentment within a community as well. let’s try to do right by each other, and please don’t sacrifice your health for fan content, or any content in general!

[lizzybeth1986]

It Takes A Village

Book: The Royal Romance

Pairing: None. Kiara with her family, and maybe a little bit of Hakim x Joëlle.

Rating: G

Summary: A young Kiara Thorne has something important to say to her parents.

Word Count: 2,234+ words

Tagging @choicesficwriterscreations for FoTW.

A/N1: This fic takes place in the universe of my series featuring Hana x Kiara, Petals and Thornes, but will precede the events of that series. Because of this, the family name is written as Thorne, not Theron. Kiara is 15 years old in this fic (and is 17 by the end of it).

(Gif is from GIPHY)

"Something the matter, ma fée?"

Kiara jumps with a start at the sudden break to the silence. Guiltily, she realizes she's been picking at the same merguez sausage for the last ten minutes - the poor food item is now mutilated beyond recognition. Kiara has somehow managed to create a well in the middle of the subtly spiced couscous without eating any of it too.

Right next to her, Ezekiel raises his eyebrows. Well...you telling them today?

Kiara remembers what she'd confessed to her brother two days ago and sinks a little further in her seat.

She isn't sure why this feels so hard to do. It's not like Castelserraillan is a place that will not accept this...nor like Maman and Baba will throw a fit over it. In fact, her home has attained worldwide fame for being Cordonia's "LGBTQ+ capital" - the first place in Cordonia to publicly celebrate Pride, and the first to have an internationally known queer community and events of all kinds, year round.

Every October, her parents throw themselves headlong into organizing and supporting Pride, getting exhibitions ready, screening films, informing their friends at the press in advance so the events are covered with all the style and pizzazz they'd need for promoting. Every year, they fund more groups and organisations in the duchy, striving to ensure that the queer community in Castel lacks for nothing.

Yet somehow, telling her parents that not only does she find herself attracted to boys and girls, but that she still isn't entirely sure what she should label herself as...somehow the prospect of opening up to them about that is turning this normally-delicious sausage into dust in her mouth.

It had been easy enough with Zeke. It usually is - he accepts just about everything with the same laconic nonchalanance, the kind that makes you wonder if you were the one being melodramatic.

"You're bi?"

"Oui...non...ugh!! Je ne sais pas!" Kiara groaned, throwing her hands in frustration, "Sometimes I think I am...I mean right now I have a crush on that new artist Maman is mentoring..."

"Chantal Bachelet? The cubist?"

"Oui. Her."

"What's there to get confused about! Three months ago it was that stable-boy from the royal palace -"

"He's not a stable-boy. That was for just one summer! Drake lives there!" Kiara hissed, uncomfortable at the warmth creeping up her cheeks again. She was grateful her brother thought this one crush was recent...but it really has been going on for five months and shows no sign of subsiding. Maybe in another five...

"Fine. Whatever. I still don't see why you're so confused."

Kiara pursed her lips in annoyance, too tired and confused to explain herself any further. This isn't what she imagined being bisexual to feel like (not that she'd seriously dwelled on it before). Somewhere she'd imagined it would be a perfect split - that one would likely be attracted an equal amount to both. Yet most of her crushes since age 13 have been boys...and Chantal is the only one so far who has made her rethink things.

They're questions that keep her awake some nights, and make her feel a little bit silly on others. Would calling myself bi make me a fraud? Is it too early to tell either way?

What if I come out, and it turns out I was straight the entire time?

Kiara sighs, trying to make the best of the sausage she'd just mashed to oblivion. It had been far easier to come out to Zeke because he hardly seems to have an opinion on most things. And even if he does - he won't show you one way or the other. There are times she wonders if he deliberately strives to make himself a mere sounding board whenever she wants to hash out things.

Her parents, on the other hand...she suspects they'll follow the revelation up with a hundred questions. Questions she's not entirely sure she has the answers for, yet.

"Kiki," her father begins, his voice warm and gentle. His mouth twists a little in amusement when she frowns at the nickname. "if something is troubling you, you know you can tell us, don't you?"

"Um..." Kiara swallows. "Maman...Baba..." Damn this sudden dryness in her mouth.

Her mother takes a deep breath, trying to follow the advice she's about to give. "Prends ton temps, cherie... don't rush."

And as it always seems to happen since she's turned thirteen, Kiara does the exact opposite of what her mother says. "MamanIthinkI'mbi."

Silence. Confusion.

"Pardon?" Baba says.

Kiara tries, and fails, to clear her throat. She winces as she hears her voice, speaking its truth in the most embarrassing squeak. "I...I think I might be bi...but I'm not sure." She covers her face, cursing the Fates for making this Big, Super Important Moment into such a colossal dud.

"Not sure?" Maman echoes, a frown burrowing lines on the fine skin. Kiara can just see her mother's brain scrambling to pick the right words, her voice tentative and her words unsure. "I don't understand. You are attracted to a girl, I take it, yes?"

Kiara bites her lip, trying to gauge from Maman's face how this conversation will go. "Yes, Maman."

Maman fingers a stray ringlet of hair by her ear, as she often does when she gets a bit confused or agitated. "... shouldn't that settle it then?" She picks a piece of invisible lint on her dress. "I'm sorry - I think I don't entirely get how this works."

Kiara feels a small rush of relief at the words. " I don't know if I really get it either."

"You're young yet," Baba says, his deep voice an oasis of calm rippling around herself and her mother. In another ten minutes they will both wonder why they agonized over this so much. "No one ever knows everything at 15, not even smart young girls fluent in four languages or who can best Auvernese princesses even when they cheat at chess." He chuckles, Zeke hides his giggle behind his hand, and both Maman and Kiara can't resist a tiny smile.

Her parents think she won't notice, but she detects the slightest movement of Baba's hand, presumably covering Maman's. Maman likely places hers over his.

Kiara is half-sure this gesture might prelude a discussion. A discussion involving her. That she may not be a part of.

Yet.

Normally, she would hate that. But today - her own head too muddled and thoughts too scattered to think further without getting a headache - she feels a bit more relaxed.

It would be nice to let her parents do thinking for her once in a while.

--

By tacit agreement, Kiara's mother and father choose to skip their afternoon siesta, preferring to sit in his study and ruminate over today's revelations with a potful of mint tea.

"I don't see why you're so worried, Joli," Hakim tells his wife, his knuckles absentmindedly brushing over hers. "I mean...you're not against her caring for women, are you?"

Hakim won't lie: there were moments at the dining table today when he wondered whether his daughter's truths made his wife uncomfortable. He's heard about it before - parents and loved ones who will genuinely believe they support queer people, yet struggle when they find them in their own families. He won't deny he's still getting used to Kiara's revelation himself...but over here in Castelserraillan, they always come around. They always work on their discomforts themselves, because they know it's their loved one who needs the most support.

It's just that Joëlle - who usually moves through her life with confidence and pizazz even when she doesn't completely know what she's doing - seemed so unexpectedly unsure of herself.

Hakim steels himself against the possibility. Surely even if Joëlle did feel that way, she'd try to process it in a way that wouldn't hurt Kiki. That much he knows about his wife.

"What! No!" Joëlle bursts out. Hakim lets off a stuttering laugh, feeling ten times lighter. "It's just... I know it's silly, but I'm worried. For her."

Hakim runs a hand lightly, slowly across her hair, running a small curl through his fingers just the way she likes it. "What's there to worry about, bonbonayet albi? She has us."

Joëlle looks him straight in the eye, her own dark and wide-set on a heart-shaped face. "But will that be enough? Are we enough?

His hand stills. "What do you mean?"

"She has us today, yes," Joëlle says, covering his hands with her own. Distractedly her long fingers twist slowly over his wedding ring. "But we don't know what it's like, do we? Even when we host events, we are at best on the outside looking in. Sooner or later she's going to want guidance from those who have gone through it too, won't she, mon bijou?"

Hakim's answering smile is one of slow recognition. "You're saying what our Kiara really needs...is a community. A community of people who may have been where she's been, who might give her the answers we won't always have."

Joëlle rests her head against the crook of his neck, breathing in the spicy-sweet cinnamon scent of his cologne. Suddenly she is not only grateful for this man she married, but this place she married into. Because her mind may be a maze of doubts about a lot of things, but the one pillar of certainty she can cling to is that Castelserraillan is a safe place for children like her daughter. A safe, welcoming, accepting place. "Maybe we should start small. Baby steps."

Hakim nods. They saw Kiara's face at breakfast today - no matter how confused they were now, she had to feel twice as much. Push her into finding answers now and their daughter is bound to shut down.

"I trust you, ghazali. Absolutement."

Joëlle smiles, already feeling optimistic about her daughter's future. "And I you, cheri."

--

The gallery has never been this packed, Maman had told her just the other day. Kiara's feet feel worn and tired from standing and walking all day, but she's never felt more invigorated. It's been two years since Maman had brought her here, convincing her without much fanfare to volunteer at an art exhibition they run every year during Pride month. She and Baba never told her why, never made it a priority - just put forward the offer and let her choose.

No assumptions, no unnecessary fanfare, no pressure to figure out who she was or what she identified as. In retrospect, Kiara thinks as she approaches a newer, more nervous face, it was the best thing her parents could have done.

They knew they didn't know everything...had no ego acknowledging that fact...and eased her into a community she knew deep inside would accept her but still felt afraid to approach.

"New here?" She asks the new girl, who wraps her shawl around her thin frame tighter, struggling to look Kiara in the eye.

"Yes," the girl says, "Bethany, from Cormery Isle. I'm...here to support a friend."

The brief pause tells Kiara straightaway that Bethany may be hiding a detail or two, but that possibility only makes her own smile grow wider.

When Kiara finally came out as bisexual in public, a year after that suggestion from her mother, it had felt natural - like it was time, like she was ready and felt safe to tell the world who she was. She had agonized over the decision in the months before, wondering if her new friends would turn away from her for lying...whether they would even believe her...whether she was bisexual enough.

But no. People around her embraced that news with the same warmth that they showed when they knew of her as Duke Hakim's straight-ally daughter, not a trace of surprise in their eyes when she told them she wasn't straight after all. And not a single question about whether she really was what she claimed she was - just acceptance and whispered promises to lend an ear if she ever needed to talk. Promises that she took up, figuring out more and more about herself in the process.

She would learn from several of them, much later, that she wasn't the only one.

Kiara doesn't know what the journey of the girl standing before her - 15 just like she was, afraid just like she was - is going to be. Maybe she'll find herself here. Maybe she won't. Maybe she'll discover she's straight, or not. Maybe she'll recognize she's cis, or not. Maybe she'll realize labels were never for her. The possibilities are endless.

All Kiara knows, is that an entire community of people once enfolded her within their wings, gave her time and made her feel safe about exploring what she wanted. And the only reward they would ever ask for, is that you pay that guidance forward.

That's the way Castelserraillan is. That's the duchy her parents are so proud of running, that she and her brother are so proud to call their home.

Kiara calls Mlle Bachelet, the star artist for this year's exhibition, for an introduction (she notes with faint regret, a slight dull pang that she thinks one feels when a crush is over), and grins at how starstruck Bethany looks. I think I'll leave them to it...for now. And come see Bethany later.

Kiara walks away from the two, footsteps light as air. As she passes paintings and portraits chronicling journeys as vast and diverse as Cordonia itself, charting personal and communal histories, she can't help but remember a line she's heard from the grandmothers in both sides of her family. It takes a village to raise a child.

Smiling, she wraps her arms around herself. Safe in the arms of a community that quietly let her blossom, secure in the promise, that they trust her to do that for so, so many more people.

--

Notes:

French:

Ma fée - "my fairy" in French.

Oui...non...ugh! Je ne sais pas! - Yes...no...ugh! I don't know!

Prends ton temps - Take your time

Pardon (in this context) - Excuse me

Mon bijou - My jewel

Darija/Arabic:

Bonbonayet albi - my heart's bonbon sweet (an endearment)

Ghazali - literally means deer, can be used as an endearment for a female loved one.

A/N2: One of my earliest HCs about Castelserraillan, after TRR3, was that if Castelserraillan which was a hot-seat of culture, and had one of the most chill Duke and Duchess in Cordonia leading it...it would probably also have a vibrant LGBTQ community and culture. I tried to incorporate that into this fic.

[blainesebastian]

coffee cart girl (pt9)

words: 3,293 ship: austin x female reader summary: you’re the coffee runner on the set of Elvis. Coffee deliveries run pretty easy, until Austin accidently spills coffee on you. notes: you can find previous parts under this tag :)  warnings: none tag list: under the cut! sorry if links aren’t working, refer to the link above if needed.

All good things eventually come to an end, so it’s a sad day when the Elvis film is officially wrapped. Your dad has used that expression of ‘one door closing and a window opening’ and you’ve always kind of enjoyed living your life like that. Opportunities sometimes come from the strangest or unexpected of places.

You for sure never thought you’d be in a relationship with Austin Butler, so, just goes to show that the universe is in a constant state of flux.

You’re definitely not complaining though.

Settling down on your apartment couch, you smile as Jillian facetimes you—a weekly occurrence since the movie’s been over. You pick up the call with a smile, leaning it against a bowl on your coffee table so she can see you lounging.

“Long time no see.”

You chuckle, “It’s been three days, Jill.” You get it though—going from seeing someone every day to every other few weeks can be jarring. Jillian’s a great friend, last thing you want is to lose contact. Some people are just in your life for a season, somethin’ you’ve learned far too many times the hard way.

You really hope Jillian and Austin are not a part of that analogy.

A soft silence passes, you watch as Jillian mills around her own kitchen putting dinner together and…right, you should probably eat something, or at least figure out what you want to do. Since the end of filming, Austin has been bouncing around to different obligations—you expected this but admittedly, you miss him.

Texts and calls just aren’t the same.

“It’s tomorrow, right?”

You blink, focusing back on Jillian. “Uh,” Picking at a loose thread on the couch, “Yeah, tomorrow.”

“Are you nervous?”

A laugh comes up from your chest, “I’m not the one being interviewed, you know, all I’m doin’ is waiting for him in the back. Maybe someone will bring me coffee for a change.”

Jillian snorts, making some sort of mac n cheese dish, least you’re pretty sure. It’s homemade at the very least, “Yeah but he’s gonna talk about you. The interviewer is gonna know you’re there and not be able to stop themselves from askin’.”

Shaking your head, you push your face into the cushion of the couch. “He’s there to promote a movie, not me.”

“I’ve personally seen the way he looks at you, he’s gonna talk about you—won’t be able to help it.”

There’s an eyeroll but you can’t stop a soft pink blush from kissing your cheeks either, working down your neck. It’s a conversation you’ve definitely had with Austin—there’s been other candid pictures and even a few articles pop up on how he’s seeing someone, though because you’re not a celebrity, no one can seem to nail down who it is. You’re sure Jillian’s right, in a sense, that a question might be asked.

But knowing Austin, he likes keeping personal things private. He might mention you but it’ll be brief—not because he doesn’t want to talk about you or somehow keep you hidden away because he’s ashamed, but because he’s protective.

You like that.

Things are only going to get more hectic; the goal is to figure out the best way to navigate them.

“How’s the script goin’?” Jillian asks, changing the subject, which you’re definitely thankful for.

“Finishing touches.” You let out a long breath, “And then I told Austin he can send it to a few people.”

Jillian grins, “I’m proud of you! I’m sure that took a lot of arm wrestling.”

You smirk, “You have no idea.”

It’s a good thing though, you know that. Austin and Jillian and your sister—a bunch of important people in your life have been telling you, gently pushing, that in order to move on to the next step? You have to be willing to actually take it. There’s a fear of rejection that is very real, of not feeling like you’re good enough—but how else do you know if you never try?

Maybe the script comes back with negative reviews, maybe you’ll realize that character development and story progression that made a lot of sense to you, doesn’t translate to someone else’s experiences.

It’ll be hard but you can take the script back, read the notes, take the feedback seriously, start again.

But what if…it’s the exact opposite?

“Good luck tomorrow—let me know how it goes.”

You pull yourself out of your thoughts before you nod, giving Jillian a smile and hanging up the call. Drawing a pillow into your chest, you chew on your lower lip as you consider ‘good luck’. You’re not giving any interview answers that will one day be on YouTube, or turned into gifs on Tumblr but…

Maybe having some good luck and good vibes wouldn’t exactly hurt. Hopefully it’ll all run so smoothly that you won’t even need it.

--

You know it’s probably something completely lame to admit, but every time you see Austin, your heart ricochets right up into your throat. It’s pounding wildly as you watch him get out of the SUV he’s arrived in at the talk show venue. It’s not one of the major stations with famous names, nothing like that, but something you’ve learned about Austin is that he likes branching out, talking to anyone and everyone. He’s a genuine soul, he likes connecting with people.

Smiling softly, you lean off to the side near the front door, as close as you can get with security. While Austin’s personal bodyguards and assistants know you, the venue does not and won’t let you get very close to where he’s walking in. There’s a speckling of fans along the sidelines, lingering, getting riled up when he steps out and begins walking to his destination. While his bodyguard, Richard, tries to move him along—Austin stops.

He takes pictures with anyone who asks, signs whatever might be in front of him. It’s…really nice to see, actually. Your gaze lingers, taking in his wavy blonde locks, perfectly coiffed on his head. The jet-black hair is long gone and his natural color only seems to bring out the blue of his eyes. He’s dressed all in black which highlights the long lines of his body—slacks, shirt slightly unbuttoned, suit jacket that has a soft sheen to it in the sunlight.

Your stomach flutters as he moves and finally spots you, a soft smile on his lips. He reaches for your hand, Richard sliding one of the metal guardrail fences that are set up aside,

“She’s with me,” He tells building security, squeezing your fingers.

You can hear distinct murmuring from behind as you move quickly inside, the doors closing afterwards. You can’t allow yourself to be bothered or distracted by it, too busy turning to instantly throw your arms around his shoulders. He chuckles lightly, picking you up in a brief hug before pulling back.

He smells amazing, sandalwood and something distinctly Austin and he seems to be taking you in as much as you’re doing for him. It’s been about two weeks since you’ve seen one another in person but it feels longer than that,

“Sight for sore eyes,” He tells you, reaching to cup your cheek before pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

Your fingers curl into the bottom fabric of the lavender dress you’re wearing today, something simple but one of your favorites. It sits along your thighs, clinches at your small waist and has small yellow daisies patterned on it. Paired with some heels? It’s a look.

“Yeah you clean up nice.” I missed you too. You laugh warmly, running your fingers along the lapel of his jacket before you both have to begin walking. Of course he’s on a schedule, wouldn’t want to make him late—you’ll have plenty of time together once the interview is over.

Someone from production meets Austin about halfway into the building, guiding them towards the interview room he’s going to be sitting in. Your eyes take in as many details as you can possibly manage with how fast you’re walking—Steve, apparently, has a very ‘to the minute’ job that reminds you of Sal (with a far better attitude). Entering into a large room labeled Studio 7 that looks like a behind the scenes theater production, Austin is motioned towards a hair and makeup chair near the curtain he’s going to walk out of. You linger, not wanting to get in the way at all but also wanting to watch Austin talk about the film and share out anything he can about what he’s worked so hard on.

“Carol-Ann will run you through a typical questionnaire,” Steve says, checking a clipboard and occasionally touching an earpiece in his right ear. It’s almost ironic to you that Austin has to get touchups—brushing the hair back that’s leaning over his forehead, padding a spot along his hairline, a soft kiss of blush with a makeup brush. The camera finds so called ‘flaws’, you guess, even though it doesn’t feel quite possible that Austin has any.

You stand by quietly, giving Austin a small smile any time his eyes find yours. Steve then moves to hook a mic onto his suit jacket, testing it with a small tap before he nods,

“Should be about twenty minutes out there and then five minutes before we go on—any questions?”

Austin shakes his head, standing from the chair. He thanks the makeup artist before reaching for your hand, approaching the edge of backstage where the room opens up into a studio. You can’t help but dip your head out a little to look at where Austin will be—it’s set up like a typical talk show. On one side, there’s pastel colors and couches for the guest and host to sit on, a slew of cameras separating that and the backside of the room where audience members go. And there are plenty there, the lucky ones that maybe waited outside all night or bought a ticket.

It's just kinda surreal, especially for you but you also can’t imagine for Austin. While he wears a celebrity title well, knowing what to say, holding the gaze of whoever he’s talking to, and passing off charm easily, he’s also humble and sweet, thoughtful. Your eyes find him again and you swear you can feel his hand shaking, just a little.

“You nervous?” You ask, running your thumb along his knuckles.

“Nah, just excited energy.” Though you’re not sure you one hundred percent believe him.

Steve gives Austin a two-minute warning and he takes a deep breath into his chest before nodding, smiling down at you. “Wish me luck.”

“I will,” You tell him before squeezing his hand, “But you don’t need it.”

Leaning back just slightly, you watch him walk out on stage to meet the talk show host. The crowd definitely loves cheering for him and you’re once again reminded how much Austin seems to be made for this. Just like Elvis.

--

There’s an exchange of hellos near the pastel-colored couches, Austin leaning down to greet Carol-Ann with a hug, thanking her for the opportunity with added pleasantries. You notice there’s a moment when Carol-Ann motions to backstage, though you can’t understand what she’s referring to because the noise of the crowd drowns it out. Whatever she says however, Austin glances towards you before shaking his head, shoulders a bit tight even though there’s a gentle and pleasant smile on his face.

Once Austin sits, the interview starts almost immediately and you’re able to watch from one side of the backstage area, keeping to the shadows but you hear the questions and responses. Regardless of how nervous Austin might have seemed before going out there, he’s a natural at talking to people—he turns the interview process into a conversation, even asking Carol-Ann things herself every so often. He’s just genuine and it warms your chest from the inside out as you watch him—you know that he’s not just doing that because he’s under the public eye but rather because he’s sweet and humble.  

You feel like not many people are left in Hollywood like that.

All the questions and clips shown about the movie go swimmingly and there’s a round of applause as Carol-Ann announces that they’re almost out of time. Austin leans back against the pastel, crossing his long legs—the jet black of his suit seems to pop along the soft colors.

“Before we go, I just have to ask—” And before the words are even out of her mouth, you know what she’s about to say, “You came into the studio today with someone beautiful—can you tell us anything about her?”

There’s a moment where you completely draw a breath into your lungs and hold it there, a slight hammering of your heart in your ears. Even though you knew this was coming, unavoidable at this point by accompanying Austin to this interview, it still throws you off balance.

Austin takes a patient breath too, his smile pleasing and calm as he nods. Regardless of the question that has nothing to do with the film, he takes it in stride as much as he can. Jillian was right, in a way, there was no way he could avoid talking about you during this interview.

“Yeah, I got a girl,” A soft laugh leaves his lips as the audience applauses and he gently waves to them before answering the rest of the question, “I uh, I met her on the set of Elvis and she’s incredible.”

And just like that, your relationship is officially out in the open.

The moment comes and goes and…you’re not quite sure if you’re waiting for something to feel earth-shatteringly different or for another shoe to drop. It’s supposed to be the same right? You and Austin are unchanged—everything’s just on your terms now. No more concerns about keeping yourselves hidden or sneaking around, a bit more control over your own relationship instead of leaving it up to others with exposing type articles or photos that make you feel like you’re on an episode of Gossip Girl.

Case in point, Carol-Ann tries to push—she playfully asks Austin for more details, a name, something else to feed the satisfaction of hungry and curious fans.

Austin’s smiling but he clamps down on his response, “That’s all I’m willing to share right now—I’d like to keep her to myself.” And even that’s a winning answer because Carol-Ann smiles and there’s applause mixed with some girls giggling in the audience, cheeks kissed pink and totally heart-eyed towards Austin in these pastel-colored chairs. He seems to know exactly what he’s doing.

You smile a little, curling your long hair around your ear. Being able to keep your personal lives private might not always be the case. But at least for now you both are making decisions on your own terms, and no one else’s.

--

You’re not exactly sure what the plan is after the talk show but you figure you can talk it over once you’re both in the SUV. You’re leaving the same way you came in, except this time there’s more fans built up on the walkway leading to the car and even some paps with cameras attempting to push their way past the barriers. You let out a slow breath, hesitating near the door before you can walk out.

Austin turns to look at you, gently reaching for your hand with a smile. There’s no doubt that he can sense you’re uncomfortable, “We just make a beeline for the car, you can stick behind me.”

You shake your head for a few reasons. For one, this is something you’re just going to have to get used to—right? You certainly don’t plan on breakin’ up any time soon and…as Austin’s girlfriend, you’ll be invited to events that’ll have fans at them. Not only that, but even out and about, odds are you’ll run into someone who recognizes him. It’s a little overwhelming, not to mention just weird, going from a girl who delivers coffee to this.

Not to mention that this sort of thing is only going to grow—Austin’s role in Elvis is really going to put him on the map. Last thing you want to do is somehow, accidentally, make him feel like he needs to avoid this, this popularity that is well-deserved.

“No,” You squeeze his hand, running your thumb along his knuckles. Secondly, you remember how Austin arrived here and, “I’m sure they’ve been waitin’ out there to see you, I’m not gonna take that from them. I’ll be fine.”

He holds your gaze for a long moment before nodding, “You sure?”

There’s a playful eyeroll paired with a smile, “Yes, I’m sure. C’mon.” Motioning him forward, building security opens the doors for them, Richard taking the lead to make sure everything is all clear as you walk.

Your only goal as you head out of the talk show building is to stay out of the way—it’s quick chaos, Austin zigzagging to different sides of the divide to sign autographs and actually talk to fans as he takes pictures with them. A small smile lingers on your face as you watch him, doing your best to disregard any questions thrown in your direction. You are definitely not diving into that rabbit hole.

You both are close to the SUV and you pause one more moment as Richard reaches the doors before you do, pulling one open. A pap with a camera grabs your attention from the right, mostly because he’s yelling over the crowd. He’s got his phone in his other hand aimed at your face, you assume recording a video,

“Mr. Butler! Miss! Hey miss, turn around—let’s see your face!”

It’s an automatic reaction for you turn your head in the opposite direction, almost bumping straight into Austin when he reaches for your elbow. Stepping in front of you, he puts a hand out to create distance between your body and the prying pap—

“Can you not film her please?” He requests calmly but there's an air of seriousness there, it’s clear this is not something he's willing to discuss.

“Not gonna tell us who she is?”

Austin guides you around the SUV door, encouraging you to get inside first before he throws out over his shoulder, “She’s my girlfriend and I’d appreciate you not shovin’ a camera in her face.” He gets into the car too, the door closed behind him. There’s a few moments of Richard and Austin’s assistant getting in as well, doors shutting, before the SUV begins to wade its way into  traffic.

He lets out a soft breath, running his hands through his hair. Turning to look at you, his gaze flutters over your body before finding your eyes, “You alright?”

Despite the slight rattling of eager fans and paps who don’t understand the concept of personal boundaries…you feel okay. Finally alone with him, or well, for the most part. You take in a deep draw of oxygen before nodding, a small smile tugging the corners of your mouth.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” A soft pause before, “‘Girlfriend’, just—don’t think I’ll ever really get used to you sayin’ that.”

Austin smiles a little, reaching his arm across your shoulders. You chuckle, allowing him to draw you close in the backseat of the SUV. Sliding across the middle seat, you mold yourself into his body, his arm creating a cage around you as yours maps across his waist.

“Well you better start.” He says into your hairline, your head fitting perfectly underneath his chin. Breathing him in, you close your eyes.

Feels like home.

--

Cannot believe there’s only one part left! Thank you all for everything :) there is a post regarding requests here if you’re interested!

tag list:  @pearlparty, @theinvisiblecapricorn, @kittenlittle24, @andrewgarfields-girlfriend, @mirandastuckinthe80s, @nonsensical-nonce, @softlispoken, @dudinhahoff, @peterparke-r, @lottiee03, @little-diable, @therealwriter17, @bob-the-tomato, @bcofl0ve, @domaniquessidehoe, @oh-austin, @rosequartzluvr, @callthedarknessdown, @laperceval, @ghostinthebackofyourhead, @starry-night-20, @ahoyyharrington, @obsessedunicorn24, @lulu-recs, @queenotaku23, @embobemm, @milaa24, @medleyj, @myownparadise96, @butlersluvbot, @girlokwhatever, @pinkle-monade0103, @vintagebitc, @xcallmetaniax, @adoreyouusugar, @karamelcoveredolicity, @thisisntmeok, @kvcssghbjbcd, @mamaspresley, @elvismylove, @chaoticbilly, @pulisvertz, @killerqueenfan, @jasminex12, @simpforevery1, @dre6ming, @behindmygreyeyes 

[stayarmytinyzenmoa-l]

Prominence [WCh. 2.65]

Social Media AU ; Idol AU ; Added Unit AU CW/TW: Language Genre: Comedy, Romance Pairing: NCT x Idol!Reader, Seonghwa x Reader Y/N Pronouns: Female (She/Her) Word Count: 5.0K

(65/80) [First] | [Previous] | [Next] [NCT Masterlist] | [Other Groups Masterlist] | [Prominence S1 Masterlist] | [Prominence S2 Masterlist]

Notes: I originally split this chapter because it was too long and then I ended up making it longer lmaooooo so here's the once in a blue moon long chapter because I cannot for the life of me figure out how to make it shorter or how to nicely split it without breaking the pacing. Disclaimer: Please remember that this is an AU and a work of fiction, obviously the idols mentioned/written about in this story would never partake in these actions. The idols mentioned in this work are meant to be seen more as face claims rather than the actual idols themselves.

Feedback is greatly appreciated!! Thank you for reading!

25 February 2022

Tapping the soju glass against the counter, you sighed and slid against the wood until your cheek hit the table. It was cool under you, at least. Your sight was maybe a little hazy, a mix of overall exhaustion and the few drinks you had. You did as you were instructed, dropping a quick tweet about how you and Jeno were strictly friends, and of course the comments flooded with the usual support and the few rude replies, which were soon drowned out by memes and rational responses. The usual day on Twitter. You had spent the last few hours scrolling through your tags, a toxic trait of yours, you know, but you couldn't help it. You needed to assess the situation before making any further moves in promotions or on social media, unless you wanted Suho and Seojoon on your ass again managing your socials, you'd rather not give them the extra work. It was only natural that you wouldn't have liked what you saw in your searches and tags. Somedays, it felt like whatever you did just wasn't enough. Your eyes glanced to the clock. It was nearing midnight, and you didn't think anyone would be showing up. How did you get into such a pitiful situation? Wait, you already knew the answer to that.

"(Y/N)! Hi! Are you already there?" Yangyang's voice was chipper. "Hey, sorry, something came up with the WayV guys, you know, they're sentimental so they won't let me out of this "family bonding" shit, so! So, so, I prepared a little surprise for you! You'll love it, I promise, and if you don't I know you'd be lying because I know you too damn well! Trust, okay?"

Yangyang had suddenly called you earlier, conveniently right as you arrived. There was a slight hint of laughter in his voice, the kind you knew him to have when he was planning something in particular. He never intended to come with you tonight, that much you knew for sure, and you were clever enough to put two and two together.

The person who was supposed to accompany you tonight was none other than the one who had been trying so hard to see you, and you had to give Seongwha credit for that. You're the stubborn one, and it was times like this when you could really sit and think about it when you wonder why? Why is he settling for you? Surely, there's someone else out there that could be his perfect half, and yet, here you are, staring at his contact picture. Maybe you should call him? You couldn't lie to yourself, you wanted to see him. Despite the fact that he was now nearly two hours late. Then again, when had any date of yours gone right? Did this count as a date? The sound of a cuckoo clock from the back room of the shop was enough to answer your questions.

"Auntie, can I just stay here a bit longer?" You ask. What could be holding him up? You wanted to call and ask, but at the same time, you felt obligated not to ruin the surprise. You knew they were in the midst of a tour, so you were certain that if anything it was practice holding him up, but goodness, you were worried about him. It was far too late.

"Stay as long as you need, hon," your aunt rubs your head affectionately before walking off to the back room. Your head felt heavy, maybe you shouldn't have drank while waiting, but there was no way you'd want to discuss anything heavy sober right now, you just wanted to relax. If you didn't have this, you'd be knocked out in bed by now.

Before you knew it, you were calling him, holding the phone to your ear. One ring, two rings, three rings, four, then it fell silent, the obnoxious beep tone playing instead and prompting you to leave a message. You hung up, lying back down against the counter. You heard the shop entrance open, as signaled by the quiet bell chime. Was it him? Was he here? You didn't have the energy to get up, your eyelids felt heavy, and the countertop was much too comfortable. Whoever entered took a seat next to you. You could see the polished combat boots, the dark jeans that had faded with age, and the loose chain that hung off the belt loop. You already knew who it was, and it wasn't who you would've ever expected to be here.

"(Y/N), it's not safe to fall asleep in restaurants," his voice was the same as you'd remembered it. Soft but strong, maybe a bit scratchy from lack of use and a bad smoking habit, but not enough for it to be worthy of note. You hadn't heard his voice for, what, a year now? For some reason, your mood only soured. "You should go home." A concerned sigh came from him.

"Did auntie call you?" You asked quietly, your words slightly muffled because of your squished face against the counter.

"I wouldn't be here otherwise," his voice was tired. You heard the sound of a lighter and, soon, the faint scent of smoke.

"Oi! Jung Kanghoon, you'd better not be smoking in my restaurant!" Your aunt's voice was clear. Your older brother made no effort to listen. Instead, he slid the pack towards you.

"No thanks, I have to take care of my throat more," you yawned. "Too many of those guys smoke in the dorms, I'm afraid I'm going to die of secondhand smoking or something," you sighed.

"Too many of them, huh?" Kanghoon sighs. "Were you waiting for someone?" You hear him slide the soju bottle away from you. You turned your head to the door. No one was coming any time soon.

"Yeah, I was," you sat up now and stared at your phone, looking at the one lone message from Yangyang.

'I'm sorry, I don't know where he is, he said he'd be there. You know I just wanted to help...' His heart was in the right place, it always was, and while you appreciated it, you hoped that he didn't take this to heart. Then, another text came in. 'Do you want me to head over there? I'll take you home.' You didn't respond, rather, you didn't have the chance to.

"Don't think he's going to show up though," you added. Kanghoon leaned one arm on the counter. The smell of smoke grew stronger. "So... you came running when auntie called you, but whenever I try to call you it's like I'm no one, huh?"

"You know it's not like that," Kanghoon took a drag of his cigarette. "Those are different, you're trying to get me to come over and get out of the house, and auntie told me that you're on your fourth bottle."

"Don't worry, I can drink more and be fine," you nodded. "So, what did you want to say to me?"

"Just go home, (Y/N)."

"I'll wait a little bit longer..."

"Go home. It's dangerous outside for an idol."

"It's not the first time he's been late to something."

"Stop being stubborn, go home." You glared at him and he only rose an eyebrow back.

"I hate how you do that," you grimaced. "Pulling your big brother card without saying it, jerk," you groaned and packed your things. "Hey, at least read my messages, okay? I'm worried about you."

"I'm more worried about you," Kanghoon reverses the topic back to you. "Take care, (Y/N), I know you're an adult now, but if you need anything, anything important, call me."

"Yeah, yeah, if you pick up," you waved him off. "Not even going to walk me home?" You ask. Kanghoon reaches over to your bag and you push his hand out of the way.

"If you're still sober enough to do that, then you're sober enough to walk a couple of blocks home," he turns back so that both of his arms were resting against the counter.

"Yeah, you're right," you crossed your arms. "Just would've been nice to actually catch up, you know? Or are you too busy to do that?" Kanghoon looks over at you, as usual, you couldn't read him at all, but you could make out a faint hint of concern.

"Good night, (Y/N)," he cuts off the conversation instead, turning away from you.

"Good night," you knew that you weren't going to get anything out of him, not tonight, at least. He watches you leave from the corner of his eye. Once the door closes, your aunt walks back out.

"Why did you call me?"

"Why else? She always listens to you," your aunt huffs. "I've been telling her to go home for the past hour, and here you come, tell her a couple of times, and she's gone! Stubborn as hell, why'd you raise her like that?"

"Rather her be too stubborn than for people to walk all over her."

"Like they do you?" His aunt places an ashtray on the counter.

"Of course," Kanghoon responds.

"I'm worried about her."

"You and her thousands of fans."

"That's different, Kanghoon. Before I was worried about how she was handling all of the publicity, but now I'm just worried about her wellbeing, all that stress on her, it's not healthy," your aunt spies your untouched bowl of ramen. "She walked in here and just sat there. I had a feeling she was waiting for someone, and usually she'd talk to me, at least. Instead, it looked like she was thinking of something the whole time, but she didn't know how to bring it up. She got off the phone with someone and, next thing I knew it, she was ordering bottles instead. I almost called her ex-boyfriend, but I figured that was probably why she was so lost in thought so I decided on you instead," she continues. "You're cruel though, Kanghoon, having her leave herself," she shakes her head.

"Whatever, she can handle it," Kanghoon puts out his cigarette against the ashtray. "I'm heading out."

"Kanghoon, you really should talk to your sister more, I'm being serious here."

"I know," he only nods his head. "You should've called Hamin."

"He's on a whole other continent, why call him when you live just down the street of her dorms?"

"It's actually a couple of blocks," Kanghoon's voice jumps at the last word just as his aunt hits his head with a wooden spatula.

"You're horrible, Kanghoon, what happened to the little boy who was attached to his siblings' hips? Hmm?"

"He grew up," Kanghoon ruffles his hair slightly while sitting back. He spots your wallet on the table and picks it up, rifling through the cards and bills, or lack thereof. He was still trying to figure out if you left it there on purpose, as if to probe him to pay you a visit to return it, or if you really were too drunk to realize.

"Kanghoon, none of that secretive bullshit, you talk to her. Get into her head, somehow, lord knows I can't do it. I don't know what she's thinking now, and I'm worried because of it." Kanghoon looks back at her. No words were exchanged, but there was that mutual understanding. Kanghoon, regardless, stepped out of the restaurant and back into the cold air. He adjusts his jacket just as he notices someone turn the corner. His hair was a mess and his coat buttoned incorrectly, wherever he was going, it was clear that he left in a rush.

In that instant, he and Park Seonghwa made eye contact.

Seonghwa skid to a stop when he saw the stranger, taking deep breaths to compose himself. Roughed in the edges, his jacket was worn and tattered in some spots, but the chains on his belt and around his neck were enough to distract from it. Seonghwa knew better to stare, but that old scar on the stranger's cheek was prominent. He shook his head, he had no idea he'd run into anyone tonight, much less a delinquent. He wasn't expecting to be late, who plans to be late anyway? It was supposed to be a quick trip to the company, just to kill time before heading here, he wanted to sort out his thoughts with Hongjoong, what with the possibility of a close friend of his being your stalker, if it was true, he figured he'd let Yangyang know, thinking that he'd be meeting him tonight. He wasn't expecting Eden to pull him aside to record some lines for a track he had in mind. Even when he insisted, Eden promised that it'd only take an hour.

Needless to say, it has been way more than an hour. Seonghwa figured it would be alright, Yangyang of all people would understand that work gets in the way sometimes. Until he saw Yangyang's contact name flashing across the screen, an incoming call from an unlikely source. It was that one-sided call that got Seonghwa running out of the recording studio as soon as he could.

"Hey, so, this is my fault. 100%, I should've made it clear but I was thinking it would've just been a nice surprise but, of course, whenever I plan things something always goes sideways. Like when I spilled coffee all over Red. But, anyway, yeah, I'm not meeting you tonight. It's (Y/N). I think there's something up with her, I don't think she's told you yet, but she's been getting these weird messages, we're also like 98% sure she has a stalker, and recently more stuff have been piling on her plate, just... just go spend time with her. She likes you a lot, like, disgustingly a lot. She has fun with Mark and I, but anyone can see the difference when she's with you, even if she denies it. Seriously, though, if you can't make it, just tell me now and I'll go there myself."

Like hell he was going to let Yangyang steal his thunder. He hung up the phone and came right here, taking a taxi the whole way and just barely being able to hide his face until he got to the front of the restaurant. He fixes his coat before walking at a brisk pace, noticeably toward the restaurant entrance. Kanghoon watched him as he did so.

Of course, Kanghoon knew who Park Seonghwa is. How could he not know the identity of the man who broke his little sister's heart? He may not have answered every one of them, but he certainly did read every message you sent to him about your relationship. Every message asking him to come out of his house to meet him or for them to come over to his house. He was sure that you'd found the one until that happened. If only he wasn't working, he would've said yes, no, he should've made time for you. That was beside the point now. Now, he read all the messages asking what you did to deserve what happened. He'd never forgive him for that. All those texts you'd sent him asking why, if he wasn't so busy with his job he would've come running, he swears. Regardless, Kanghoon stayed relaxed as he watched Seonghwa move, until finally he decided to spare Seonghwa the effort.

"She's not there anymore, you just missed her," Kanghoon pulls his keys out and Seonghwa, with one hand on the door, turns back.

"I'm sorry?" He looked at him as if he were an overstepping stranger. Maybe Kanghoon should introduce himself properly? He thought about it for a while before deciding against it. You already have enough problems going on, he'd rather not add to it. But, at the same time, you're his little sister, and he'll always keep in mind for you what he thinks is the best for you. And Park Seonghwa?

He's far from what you deserve.

"She just left, don't bother, the owner's cleaning up," Kanghoon continues.

"With all due respect," Seonghwa glowers. "I don't think that it's any of your business." Kanghoon clicked his tongue quietly. This wasn't how he imagined meeting Seonghwa for the first time, that was for certain. He didn't recall you mentioning that Seonghwa had a bit of an attitude either.

"Don't go chasing things you can't keep up with." Using the wallet, Kanghoon points down the street towards the dorms, a motion that Seonghwa followed, silently understanding what he meant. Then, Kanghoon tosses the wallet to Seonghwa anyway, knowing you, if you really liked Seonghwa so much you'd see him soon. Kanghoon would rather spare himself the trip to the dorms. Seonghwa caught the wallet and eyed it curiously, his expression relaxing as soon as he realized it belonged to you. Maybe it was a bad choice on his part, Kanghoon's, that is. Maybe he shouldn't leave the door of opportunity open for Seonghwa. But maybe Seonghwa would surprise him. Kanghoon grabs his helmet and straps it on, riding off before Seonghwa could answer.

"Dammit." Seonghwa looked inside the restaurant and confirmed that it was empty. He pulled his phone out, ignoring the many texts from Yangyang, he decided to call you instead. One ring, two rings, three rings...

"Seonghwa?"

"(Y/N)," he let out a sigh of relief. "I'm sorry, I'm here now, did you go home?"

"I'm on my way back, actually, I left my wallet there."

"Stay where you are, I'll meet you there and walk you the rest of the way home," Seonghwa looks down at your wallet, moving in the direction of the dorms. "Stay on the line."

"I know, honestly, I was about to call too, it's kind of spooky right now," he didn't realize it until now, but there was that floaty tone in your voice.

"(Y/N), I'm serious, stay put," Seonghwa says. You laughed lightly.

"Yes, sir! I'll stay right here. Wherever I am," you added with a short giggle. There was no doubt about it. You were definitely drunk. Stage Two, as he and your close friends called it, Cloud 9. He missed stage one, luckily, grumpy.

"What do you see?"

"I see you!" Seonghwa looked around, not seeing you anywhere.

"(Y/N), are you sure that's me?"

"I mean... I think so? You're pretty far away though. Aren't you wearing a brown coat?"

"(Y/N), love, it's winter in South Korea, every man and his best friend are probably wearing a brown coat."

"That is true. But... he really does look like you," you insisted. "From a distance... at least... I kind of assumed he was you, he's on the phone too, looking right at me, where are you?"

"I'm just crossing the street."

"Oh, then that's definitely not you."

"That's what I've been saying, love," Seonghwa shakes his head with a small chuckle. "Are you the one sitting on the bench?" The more appropriate word would be slumped, but he was sure that you already knew that.

"Yes! That's me! Oh, you're almost right next to your look-a-like! Don't talk to him, that's bad luck, you know." Seonghwa turned his head and, color him surprised.

"Oh, hyung!" Kyungjae smiles and waves while Seonghwa's lips fell into a frown.

"I'll be right there, (Y/N), stay put," Seonghwa says.

"Okay!" You hung up first.

"What are you doing here?" Kyungjae asks.

"Picking up my girlfriend," Seonghwa forces a smile. "Excuse me," he makes a move to leave, but Kyungjae stops him.

"Hyung, actually, I wanted to ask you something."

"Me too, what are you doing here? I thought your apartment was further from here?"

"Oh, well," Kyungjae looks taken aback. "I just had to drop by the company, my boss called me in for a concept meeting," he says. "But, er, did I hear you correctly, hyung? You're back in a relationship?" Seonghwa sneaks a glance to you, who had, miraculously, dozed off on the bench.

"I am, yes, sorry, can we get caught up later? I have to make sure she's safe," he makes a move to leave again, but Kyungjae stops him again.

"Actually, hyung-"

"Not now, Kyungjae, if it's a question, you can text it to me later," Seonghwa squares his shoulders and Kyungjae catches the memo.

"Hyung." Seonghwa, despite being further away, turns to look at him. "Don't do something you'll regret." Seonghwa turned away, walking over to you instead. When he looked over his shoulder again, Kyungjae was walking in the opposite direction. Instead, he turned his attention to you.

"(Y/N)," he shakes you gently. You grab onto his wrist with a death grip, fully ready to react. "Wait! Wait, it's me!" You look up with wide eyes and grin.

"Oh! It's you!"

"How did you fall asleep here?" He chuckles.

"Well, I saw you over there, talking to your twin, and figured that I'd be okay here," you rest your head against his hip and he sighs. "I always feel a bit happier when I'm with you!" Your voice was muffled against his coat. And it was true, as soon as he was in clear eye sight, you felt like you were walking on clouds, it was so easy to forget worries and stresses when he was around. "You'll never guess the day I've had... I'm exhausted but for some reason I feel a little more energetic now."

"Let's get you home, okay?"

"Okay, but, hm, hold this," you reached in your bag, handing him a half-finished bottle of soju. "Shh, don't tell auntie I swiped it," you held a finger to your lips before attempting to stand up. In no time at all, Seonghwa had a hand around your waist to support you. "The cap is broken, so I think it's going to spill if I keep it in my bag, that's why it's half empty," you continued, latching your arms around him.

"Sure, (Y/N), sure," Seonghwa rolls his eyes.

"I didn't drink it, I'm serious!"

"And I'm Choi San."

"You are?" You let him go in an instant, stumbling back and just barely catching yourself. "Choi San! That's very inappropriate of you! You know that Seonghwa and I are seeing each other again, why would you try to take advantage of my semi-drunken state? I thought we were friends? I thought I could trust you!" And you continued to ramble all while Seonghwa held his phone up, recording for educational purposes. "Things are finally looking up, ish, I can't have anyone ruining that right now! I even have to figure out how to tell Choi Yeonjun that I can't do the collaboration because of all these random things coming up about me online, I can't afford that! People are saying that I'm a kitten killer what's with that? Where did that even come from? Oh, gosh, I can't in good conscience ruin another idol's image! Why would you do this to me?!" Seonghwa stopped recording.

"Yeonjun asked you to collaborate with him?"

"Yes! And I said yes, at first, but then I thought about it, and I realized, oh god, I must not have been in the right state of mind if I said yes. Especially now after someone threw a hissy fit because I went to the gym with Jeno!"

Seonghwa knew about that, but he hasn't had time to open any socials, and now he was more hesitant to do so.

"What I'm trying to say, San," you continued, fully convinced you were talking to San at this point. "While I appreciate, that you like me, I can't reciprocate those feelings, so you should move on and find someone better," you placed your hand on Seonghwa's arm. "Besides, you're not my type." Seonghwa, once again, started recording.

"No? Why not?" It was just a curious question.

"Because... because..." You trailed into a thought. "You're like... a buff Yangyang." Yup, that'll do it. Seonghwa broke into laughter, resulting in an offended look from you. "What's so funny?"

"What do you mean, what's so funny? Did you hear what you just said?" Seonghwa says between chuckles.

"What? You're a lot more similar than you'd think! And that's like... weird, why would I date my best friend? He's my best friend for a reason! If we dated that would be weird... Plus, sometimes his face pisses me off, all smug and stuff, makes me wanna one up him at everything!" Your brows scrunched together as you rambled.

"I agree, that would be weird, you know what? Let me grab Seonghwa," he laughs turning you around and ending the recording. You turned around at your own accord and smiled again.

"Hi," there was a bashful smile on your face, a drunken glow to it despite the night air.

"Hey," Seonghwa's voice was soft, savoring the moment as much as he could.

"You will not believe what just happened," you laughed.

"Try me," Seonghwa ushered you forward, listening to you drunkenly recount the tale of what had just happened a few minutes ago, but listening to every word anyway. You were nearing the dorms now, and he silently hoped that he wasn't blacklisted from the building anymore. You looped your arm around his and slightly pulled him closer to you. He was hoping that he'd get to talk to you about Kyungjae today, but considering how slow you were walking, it would be a fool's choice to bring up anything remotely important.

"You know what?" You finally ask. Seonghwa only looks at you, waiting for an answer. "I think we should just date now."

"Is that not what we're doing?"

"I mean, I know I said we should wait, because there's so much on my plate right now, and you're going to be leaving for Europe soon, but I miss you, a lot," despite the way you looked, you sounded sincere. "And, I know, I complain a lot, and I can be a handful, but, you're here right now, you're standing right next to me, and that means something, right?" You looked at him. Stage three, sentimental. You were both standing in front of the building now. Seonghwa placed his hands on your arms, holding you steady and holding you close.

"Of course, it means something," he says. "(Y/N), I know you're not going to remember much of this, but I do love you, so much," he continues. "There's so much I want to do with you and there's so much I want to do for you, I can't even begin to say it in words, and I'm not going to try now, not when I know you won't remember most of it. But this?" He holds up the soju glass. "Let's try to control this a little, alright? Next time you feel like going for a drink, let me know, okay?"

"But... but then I would've ruined Yangyang's surprise..." you frowned. Seonghwa stopped for a moment.

Oh. It all made sense, the short message that morning with no context, the fact that you waited so long without calling him. There was a slight pang in his heart. Your best friend tried to set up a time for you and him to spend together, and Seonghwa very nearly brushed it off. If he hadn't gotten that call, he might not have showed up at all.

"Oh, well, that's on him for managing it so poorly," you snickered. It would appear that even in a half-state of mind, Yangyang was still a relentless victim. You both walked inside now, Seonghwa was too worried to have you ascend on your own, there was a quick nod of understanding between him and the security guard and then he was in the clear to enter. He was glad he followed you, especially when you stared at the elevator buttons for too long. Long enough that Seonghwa was able to pull your key out of your pocket to scan it over the reader for you and slip it back into your wallet without you remarking. The elevator began ascending and you gripped onto both him and the railing. "Gosh, I can never remember which floor it is."

"That's probably because there isn't a button to your floor."

"Right! Security," you continued, the elevator halting to a stop and sliding open to the hallway. As soon as you stepped out, your path began to lean to the right, and Seonghwa swiftly pulled you in the right direction. Stage four, drowsy. "Hey... Seonghwa?" You lightly turned him to face you. You moved closer, your lips inches away from his, and Seonghwa's world slows. In an instant, his hand flies up to cover your mouth. "Mmph?" You let out a confused sound, your eyes wide with surprise.

"You're drunk right now, I don't think it's a good idea to do this," he says. Your eyes seem to sadden and he sighs.

"Mmm mmrph wrmph." He let's go of your mouth.

"What did you say, love?"

"I said that you're right, look at you, being responsible," you yawned and knocked on the door, despite the key being in your pocket. "Guess no one's home." Seonghwa was ready to open the door for you until the door opened.

Taeyong stared at the both of you. A worried look was on his face as he looked at you.

"Hi, Yong!" You smiled. Seonghwa held up the soju bottle and held up five fingers. Taeyong sighed while he reached for the bottle, but before he could speak, he was pushed out of the way.

"Hi, (Y/N), I'm glad you're home safe," Johnny smiles. Ushering you inside.

"She-" Johnny glared at him and shut the door, effectively cutting Seonghwa off. Seonghwa let out a long breath but, at the end, a small laugh bubbled up and a grin settled on his lips. He turned around, ready to head home, and then his phone buzzed in his pocket. He read the message from you and felt his heart soar.

'Good night <3 I got home safe, so promise me you will too, okay?'

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