#of trying to be the least appealing person ever
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sunnibits · 4 months ago
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is anyone else like a huge fan of various medias, huge fan of characters, loves exploring plots and themes and character development, genuinely very enthusiastic about storytelling in general… but like, somehow physically incapable of making plot lines you care about with your own original characters. or like straight up being unable to create ocs you’re actually invested in???
like, you know what you like, you enjoy so many stories, you spend so much time digging into and delighting in the themes and tropes you like, and yet every time you try to make an original concept yourself it’s just impossible to make something compelling to you???? which makes no damn sense bc it’s literally coming from your own head so wouldn’t it be as self indulgent and perfect for you as possible??????
or is this just a unique me problem bc I swear to god it’s driving me insane
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melancholic-fig · 2 months ago
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What I loved about the Substance was that it took impossible body standards imposed on women seriously. It didn't treat me like a kid throwing a temper tantrum about not being sexy. It didn't try to tell me "everyone is beautiful" and "every body is a beach body" in a pitiable voice that makes it all worse. There's no one singing to me about how "I cannot see my own beauty", as if validation from men will ever be enough to cover the black hole in my stomach drilled by years of self-loathing, binging-purging cycles and appetite-suppression pills. It haven't stopped for a second to congratulate itself for platitudes.
The substance threw an ice bucket on my head, grabbed me by the shoulders, dragged me to the mirror and told me "look at what violence you're inflicting on yourself!". It showed me a perfect body, the carrot on the stick, and then it hit it with a sledgehammer in white neon light. Is it worth it? Aren't you mad? Look at how he eats shrimp and doesn't wash his hands - is this the person you want to be liked by? Is this what you deserve for being human, really?
I've seen this movie on Friday and it's been stuck in my head ever since. I haven't looked in the mirror the same again. Somehow this made me kinder to myself.
I've seen reviewers say that this movie counts as "male gaze" and "violence against women" but I think they don't see the forest from the trees here.
First the male gaze: it felt like a deconstruction, in the best way. Sue's butt was the least erotic thing ever put to screen. The soft porn dance studio was shot in a lifeless manner, I felt like my mom was reading the browse history. Personally, I'd never want to have Sue's job. Even the sexist dudes that watch the movie seem to "get it", that their overly sexual media diet looks embarassing under the microscope. The medium is the message, and the sound and visual cues are all there to make sex appeal look very unappealing and immature. There's nothing sexy in "Pump it up", it's catchy and fun and has sexual undertones, but not a hint of sensuality.
Then the violence against women: there is only one scene where a man attacks a woman, and I'll not spoil it, but i'll say it's so bizzare it feels too cartoony to count. The rest of the violence is all self-inflicted. Every step of the way. Women don't just suffer abuse under patriarchy from men, they self-inflict and reenforce the structures of their own suffering onto others. Elizabeth is a fitness coach actively making bank off of other women's fears, and in the process of telling everyone over x kg to skip lunch she's grown her own self-loathing too. It wasn't really the horny men watching the fitness show, isn't it? Sue is even worse, she goes on talk shows to tell women her looks come from being kind, a silly statement considering she injects herself daily with an old woman's spine liquid while loathing her for existing. Elizabeth and Sue are both victims and perpetuators of violence, and it's gruesome because it's not a silly feminine thing, it's all-encompassing and a matter of life and death. Without violence, what would be the message of the movie? "It kinda sucks to be a woman hating your body". Doesn't sting, isn't it? This is not chopping women and putting them in refrigerators to give the good guy a reason to kill the baddie, this has to be violent to show the depth of pain of the protagonist. It's necessary. And I like it, because crying and wallowing in pain is not the behaviour you want to see on screens, it feels lethargic and leads to the problem not being taken as seriously.
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hoennislands · 1 year ago
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No one asked but out of all of them, my favorite Reiwa Three Musketeers has to be Shota… I think he’s improving really well and I love when he gets a little attitude <3
He definitely has some ways to go and needs to get rid of that damn jacket and become his own person frrr. Once that happens I think he’ll be good
I also think he needs better entrance gear than the white fluffy and some deep conditioner <3
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48787 · 9 months ago
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DIE AUTOBOTS!!!
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Thank you, @thanook, unlike some of my other warriors, you never fail me!
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#yippie peace through tyranny!!#till all are one.#funnily enough it was probably that line that got me to start looking into the Decepticons as a faction beyond “The Evil Guys”#(I was probably going to anyway but this line probably accelerated it quite a bit)#I've always leaned towards them for aesthetic reasons and also I just thought they were funnier and cooler than autobots more often.#And I just figured the name was relatively meaningless which... Is usually the case for most transformers series hehe!!#(I'd of course still try to figure out a coherent headcanon to at least explain why things were happening or called certain things etc etc)#I was shown the Bumblebee movie as I was just starting to get into Transformers and only really cared about the big robots and not humans#(This still hasn't changed btw. I will defend any transformers series that ignores humans/earth TO THE GRAVE)#But that line really stuck with me because... Like... Yeah not only do they advertise themselves as Decepticons but#it also WORKS! Not only for the humans in the show but for ME!! I heard the name and went “That's cool.” in the first place already!!#And then my wife (The sympathetic Autobot fool) told me that they're called that because it means the whole “You are being Deceived” thing#Hence Decepticon! And I naturally connected some dots about certain hidden-in-plain-sight subterfuge tactics... I looked into the origins..#Had a whole *thing* learning how to write/play good deceptive characters... Tried to figure out *exactly* why the Decepticons were Evil...#And came out the other end even more strongly attached to them than ever before with a short book's worth of reasons why.#Which is funny because it was also my foolish Autobot/Prime sycophant wife trying to point out why they're bad that made me more convinced#AND because the two Decepticons sent weren't that well known so there isn't as much personal history behind them for the audience#(Besides them obviously being Decepticons and having killed Cliffjumper in the beginning of the movie. Fair move tbh)#AND because they took a much more direct appeal-to-authority approach understanding that the humans would try to deceive them#And of course the fact that the post's line itself further pushed me towards sympathizing with the Decepticons.#There's just all these little tidbits that make this line much more funny than it ever should have been to me.#Anyway there's a lot more on exactly why him noticing but no one caring is actually an excellent example of effective deception#and how he's playing right into the Decepticon's hands in more than one way.#So called “Numb. 1 Optimus Prime Fan” should know *all* about that anyway.#But that's just my fair share of Decepticon propaganda for this post at least haha!
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endless-ineffabilities · 4 months ago
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chemical override (6)
Ewan Mitchell x actress!reader
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a/n: I hope you all have found ways to cope after the breakup, but here all your questions will be answered on what went down pre-August! Special shoutout to @just-fics-station @thepurplecrown @clarkysblog @hotdismylife and @sprinklesprinkle888 for sharing your ideas and indulging me with the lovely, crazy discourse!
To everyone, I am so chuffed at how this has become OUR story - our lil self-indulgent Ewan Nation production. You all are aces <3
series masterlist ▪︎ main masterlist
In the aftermath of the breakup, the reader and Ewan throw themselves into their work, trying (and failing) to avoid any trace of the other. Will they remain this way - former lovers doomed to drift in each other's orbit?
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Some time before August
New York City
The lush office was laden with expensive wooden antiques, one side with built-in shelves displaying film awards and plaques of varying degrees of prestige. A full glass minibar occupied the other side.
The casting director introduced himself as Bruce, insisting that Ewan call him by his first name and not any of that "sir or similar stick-up-the-ass names". Ewan can see him as a mentor or maybe even a friend, Bruce insisted.
After all, they were going to help each other out a lot.
The discussion was straightforward enough, never mind the saccharine tone Bruce seemed to be so good at. Aimed at making Ewan feel welcome, coddling him, remarking with awe at his projects thus far. But there was a fakeness to it. Ewan steeled himself, trying to adapt to the style of conversation. After all, if he is in this for the long haul, then he would have to get used to these situations.
Bruce appraised him, leaning back on his leather swivel chair. "How are you with the fantasy genre? All that YA, lovesick stuff the kids eat up so eagerly nowadays? Personally, I haven't got the taste for it, but it always makes bank, if you know what I mean."
"Oh, well, I'm a fan of all movies. I definitely see why the fantasy genre has made such an impact on audiences, especially with the romance element, you know, I get the appeal."
"Well, son, we've got a solid franchise in our hands here. Some adaptation of an elf-human love story, mind you, it sound ridiculous, but you know how it is. And the team seems to be in agreement - you fit the bill for the male lead. The male elf lead - " he almost guffawed at the thought, then collected himself " - hope you don't mind my saying that you've got elvish features yourself. Long nose, long jaw, lanky. The teens are going to eat you up."
"Ah," Ewan smiled curtly, nodding. There was a backhanded compliment if he ever heard one. "Well, sir, I've read the script - at least, the bit that was sent to me - and it looks quite promising. I'd be honoured to - "
"Of course, of course!" Bruce exclaimed in pleasure, cutting Ewan off mid-sentence. "And there's the case of your leading lady, and this all boils down to chemistry as you know. Our top contender is that Jenna Ortega girl from the Netflix show, you know her?"
Ewan nodded, well aware. He's seen her work, and thinks that she is a top actress of her generation, but leave it to Bruce to reduce her to being that girl from the Netflix show.
"Yes, she's a very talented actress," Ewan replied.
Bruce hums in agreement, head bobbing as a smirk materialises on his face. "Think she's a looker?" he said openly, without shame.
Ewan laughed nervously, his words caught in his throat.
Bruce, characteriscally oblivious to the discomfort of others, carried on. "I only ask because we're going to need you two to be pretty chummy with each other when you jump on this project. It's kind of a condition of the whole thing, but really nothing to concern yourself with." He waved a hand in the air, his proposition barely carrying any weight in his mind. But Ewan was catching on, and he started to develop a dislike about the whole deal.
"What do you mean?" Ewan asked.
"It's pretty common in this business, son. There's a reason why young, new actors like yourself opt to remain unattached so to speak, so they're always open to a PR arrangement or, you know, just so their - your - hoards of fans would think they got a chance with you," Bruce explains lazily. "In this case, since you and Ortega are, as I said, unattached, getting you two together would fuckin' do wonders for our movie."
Our movie, he said, convinced that Ewan was all in, because why would any young actor refuse such a golden opportunity? Franchises like this can set up an entire mainstream Hollywood career.
Ewan thought that he wasn't unattached. Granted, his date with you was yet to happen, but he already felt bound to you. He wished you were the one tapped to be his love interest. Very little acting would be needed there. Maybe he might even be inclined to go along with the idea of selling the relationship, using it for publicity for the film, but even that made him uneasy.
The industry offered a lot of privileges, but more often than not, they come at a cost.
"Sir, I - "
"Bruce."
"Right, sorry. Bruce, I have to tell you that I'm not exactly unattached."
"Got a partner?"
Ewan actually found himself smiling at the thought of you being called his partner. His first easy smile since entering this office. "Yes, she's an actress herself," he agreed.
"I heard of her?" Bruce asked with obvious disinterest. You were but a wedge in his flawless plan.
"She's kind of a new talent like me, but she's brilliant. She plays Alyna Rivers in our show."
"Ah her," Bruce loosened up a little. "I get it, she's a piece."
Ewan cleared his throat loudly, his jaw clenching on instinct. "So, like I said, I'm with her. I'm sorry but this whole PR arrangement with Jenna wouldn't work."
"Look, kid, I want my movie to do well, alright? I got a lot invested here. This PR thing has proven to be highly bankable time and time again. If you don't trust me, I can ask the team to show you the data on all that. It's a lot of boring numbers, but shit, the numbers are never wrong."
"I don't need to see - "
"If you wanna be with your girl, you can, but you just gotta learn to hide it. Sweep it under the rug, you know. Don't canoodle in public, you crazy kids," Bruce offered, like that made things any better.
"You want me to hide my relationship?"
"Hey, now, come on. Word gets around. Isn't your girl also doing this exact same thing with Jacob Elordi?"
"Not anymore, I don't think," Ewan clarifies, "and that was... that was hardly anything. They weren't obligated to do it. It just worked by chance because they were both single for a time."
"Po-ta-to, po-tah-to." Bruce clicked his tongue before making his next point. "So you see how it works, your thing with Ortega won't be any different."
"Do I have a choice?" There it is, the defining factor.
Bruce smiled slowly. The calculating and menacing air about him intensified, and it was obvious he was not there to be Ewan's friend.
"It would be stupid to refuse something like this, kid."
Ewan's blue eyes flashed in return. None of this was ideal, but his nan raised him well, and he knew better than to falter on his values in times of trial.
"Sir, what's stupid is if you ask me to hide my real relationship for the sake of mere publicity for a film."
"Stupid you say?" Bruce sneered, having already discarded Ewan in his mind, his fragile ego bruised. "What a shame."
There wasn't much to say after that. Bruce was clearly not disinclined to reveal the ice that settled in his veins, and it dawned on Ewan that it had always been the case. There was no true hospitality here.
For bigwig casting director-slash-execs like Bruce, this was a transaction. And Ewan was not about to put what he has, or what he could have, with you on the line.
There has to be another way to advance his career. If not bigger productions, then at least those with less domineering producers.
"That is a shame," Ewan said, getting up from his seat. "I won't waste any more of your time, sir. Thank you for considering me."
Bruce's eyes darkened even further. "You're actually refusing me? For some girl?"
Another genuine smile formed on Ewan's face at the thought of you. Some girl.
But you're not just some girl. He nodded without a trace of doubt in his mind, before reaching out to shake Bruce's hand. "If you don't mind, sir... I have to go and see my darling."
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Near the end of August
Los Angeles
The modern space sported a minimalist yet rustic feel, the interiors a blend of sterile white and sleek wooden surfaces. Very LA, as they say. The windowed walls offered plenty of light, as well as precious views of the valley below.
"Thank you for agreeing to meet with me, Donna," you greeted Ewan's publicist as she ushered you in her LA office.
"No problem at all, sweetheart," she said. "Please, have a seat. Would you like some coffee or tea? Ewan always has his coffee with way, way too much sugar. Mind you, if that kid wasn't active and boxing all the time, I'd be worried for his health."
You smiled fondly at her genuine concern. "Don't even mention the cigarettes."
"Oh, yeah," she scoffed, settling down on the chair across from you. She could have sat down at her desk, making the meeting more official, but Donna's always had a friendly and open way about her. "So, my sweet, how's your new movie coming up?"
You respond eagerly. The dialogue flowed freely, talking about your film and the lukewarm reception of season 2 of House of The Dragon. And finally, Ewan.
"I really thought he would get the Greta Gerwig film," you said. "Everyone said he was perfect for it. I think Greta herself had nothing but praises for him when they met on Zoom."
She sighed thoughtfully, "I thought so too. And, theoretically, he did have that one almost booked up. But there was an issue with one of the producers, which - I don't even want to get into that."
You shook your head, catching on whom she hinted at. "Donna, I heard... well, it didn't go too well in New York, didn't it? Ewan told me about it but... if you can tell me more, I just want to understand why - "
"Sweetheart," she offered a smile, but it doesn't reach her eyes, "you should talk about this with Ewan."
"I tried. But he wouldn't budge. Mallory told me... that it might have been because of me that he didn't get the role? And also why he's struggling to get roles now? Donna, I... I can't have that."
It took some time for her to formulate a response. She didn't want to step in something that's none of her business. Your relationship with Ewan is yours. But when his career is on the line, she supposed that she needed to have some say in that.
"He met with this top producer in New York. This real old money Hollywood guy. For decades, he's built careers for the greats, you know - Pitt, DiCaprio, Theron, and whatnot. There was a franchise project practically offered to him on a plate, but Ewan refused, because a non-negotiable was that he would have to hide you in favour of a PR arrangement with his leading lady."
You swallowed, the weight of the truth making itself clear. "Couldn't he have just done the movie without that?"
"You would think," she grimaced, "but some producers... when they want something, they have to get it. And well, Bruce wasn't lying, that would have sold the movie well."
"I thought we were past this," you expressed sadly. "I understand how PR relationships work. Just recently, I found myself kind of in the middle of one. But there was no pressure, it wasn't forced on us, and it was meant to be all in good fun."
"I know, sweetheart," she insisted, reaching out to squeeze your hand. "Bruce is an outlier now. Most of the time you do get lucky, with an all-around supportive production team, just like with your project with Elordi."
You hummed in agreement on that positive note, but your mind kept drifting back to Ewan.
Donna continued, wrapping up her story, "but Bruce is still here, and he still has a lot of power. But you know, it'll be fine. Ewan's got such a huge fanbase and so much talent that it'll only be a matter of time before something else knocks on his door."
You wanted to share her sense of optimism, but something ate at you. What else will Ewan have to sacrifice just to be with you? This was his dream, his one dream, and you were standing in the way. How much longer before he is offered another project but he refuses to take it for your sake? Your thoughts blurred together, bordering on irrational, but you couldn't help it.
All you could picture was the unabashed sincerity on his face, that sense of wonder, when he told you that acting had always been his dream.
Being tied down to you, this early in his career, would surely only hurt him. And you don't think you're worth it.
"Ewan loves you, sweetheart. Anyone with eyes can see that," Donna said after a while, heeding the storm brewing in your expression.
He loves you. It was true.
Less than a month in, and you've already found yourself with a love that you've never felt before. And perhaps never will again.
And that was the problem.
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Late September
The podcast moderators are overly welcoming, if not a little loud for Ewan's taste.
The BBC podcast is called Loose Ends, and it's one of the first things Ewan agreed to take on upon returning to England.
He had wanted to head straight home to Derby, to bury himself in his heartache and bitterness, but the team for the show tapped him for a couple more promotional stints, riding on the high of the season finale. And who better than Ewan to offer to the media, the undeniable fan favourite.
Clad in an old gray shirt and blue jeans, people would think he just rolled right out of bed. He didn't really have the motivation to put in more effort. The only striking thing about him is his newly bleached head of hair, supervised by his stylist for a photoshoot a few days ago.
It was ironic, the timing of such a change. Ewan knew that if word got out that you dumped him, he would never hear the end of the joke of that being the reason for his hairstyle change, typical of all heartbroken sods.
Everyone bursts into laughter when he tells them about his mum's reaction to his nude scene. It feels like going through the motions, and he must have been so out of it, so forlorn, that his team prepared an outline for him prior to the interview. The questions and answers all pre-agreed.
Make them laugh. React as required. Remember to speak when spoken to. The mantra goes on in his head.
And don't think about her.
An impossible task, worsened when a moderator goes off script and asks, "Now it wasn't me who saw this, as I'm not on social media myself, but one of our interns did mention that you ventured into Instagram recently? Is that true?"
Oh fuck.
"Mmm, yeah, I guess," Ewan laughs nervously, his hand massaging the back of his neck in a self-soothing motion.
"And your first post went viral? What can you tell us about that? Our listeners would love to know."
"Uhhhm - " He remembers that the broadcast is live, and he can't exactly ask them to edit this part out, so he quickly settles for something indirect. Inconclusive. Safe. " - did it go viral? I'm not too sure how that thing works. I haven't used any kind of social media before."
"Apparently it did! And it had to do with the subject featured in that photo, Ewan. Your costar - "
"Mmm," Ewan stops him there, "didn't you say that you don't use Instagram?"
"No, I think I'm too old!" The moderator laughs.
"It's insane, that whole thing," Ewan shakes his head. "I don't know how to handle it. I'm logged off most of the time."
"Oh, you log off?"
"Yeah, yeah, helps me keep my focus, you know. Keep calm and all that."
"It can get frivolous, can't it?"
Ewan hums in agreement, and thankfully, the moderator moves on to his last question. One that does not breach the subject of you.
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Another day means yet another media stint for Ewan, this time for Now TV.
Still in London, his stylist Davey and the rest of the team prepare him for a day of brief interview clips, to be posted on the social media pages of the company.
Davey had half-joked about Ewan needing even more concealer than usual, the shadows under his eyes having significantly deepened after the breakup.
Some of his team have gotten wind of what happened. They would curiously ask about you, how often Ewan keeps in touch with you while you're on set...
You must be on FaceTime everyday!
Is it hard to be doing long-distance so soon?
Do you miss her? Is that why you're not getting any rest?
...but Ewan would only laugh uncomfortably, dismiss it by bringing up another topic or shifting the attention to someone else, or excuse himself to go for a smoke.
He'd been drowning himself in cigarettes and caffeine during the day, pint after pint in the nighttime. Aimless.
He is coping. He knows how it must look, but he deserves this. He deserves to drift for a while. It's the only thing he can do to keep himself from jumping on the next flight to Atlanta and begging for your hand back.
You said you love him. You did. He hangs on to it like a beacon in a storm. No matter how pointless it may seem, with you choosing someone else over him.
Work is becoming something of an anchor, something that keeps him from spiralling. He's an actor, and he has always wanted to be an actor. People now have expectations of him, and he will answer the call.
The interview session begins with generic questioning, stuff he's answered before on several occasions.
How special is the bond between dragon and rider?
What is a funny moment from set that you can share?
How similar are Aemond and Daemon?
All safe. He's proud of himself for not breaking mental clarity thus far. You're in the back of his mind, dormant as a memory, and not something looming darkly over him. For a while, at least.
But then he is asked, If you could invite any 5 people to a Ewan Mitchell dinner party, who would you pick?
"Matthew McConaughey - "
You.
" - Bruce Lee. I think they could strike up an interesting conversation - "
Your name echoes in his mind, and he can't control it.
" - Andrea Riseborough. She's just a chameleon, like in any role she undertakes -
You have great taste. Even if you would make him eat spicy food again, he'll take it. He'll endure anything for you.
He's stumped for a second, lump in his throat, and his effort in avoiding you leads him to mention someone who will always be a comfort to him.
" - Maybe my nan, because I miss her -
Your name. He has to say your name. Who else? Think of someone else.. but who else? Who would be better?
" - and then, another person. Let's make it from the show... it would be Alyna Rivers."
"Oh really?" The interviewer asks. She's not really meant to respond in this instance, but she knows that the fans would go crazy about any mention of you or your character, so why not jump on this opportunity? "Can you tell us why you chose her?"
"Uhhm, well, she's just an amazing character, you know, fiercely loyal, beautiful, tenacious," Ewan replies easily, "so yeah, she would make for good company."
It is obvious that he is describing you just as much as he does Alyna Rivers, and no doubt, the fans will catch on to this detail.
Later, he's asked about his favourite part about season two, and he duly answers, "Seeing more of Aemond and Vhagar's bond and how that perhaps have gotten stronger. Aemond has definitely reined her in, after the accident at Storm's End."
Then, "There are some new additions to the show. Do you have a particular favourite?"
Another obvious piece of bait. And he takes it, he doesn't care anymore. What's the use of denying the truth?
"A favourite new character? Oh, well, uhmm... I really do like Alyna, and I think I've said before that Aemond and her are quite similar in a sense that they both know what they want and how to achieve it. It's just a shame they're on opposing sides, because if those two get together... " he trails off, leaving it up to the audiences to fill in the rest of the thought.
And they eagerly do. The clips where Ewan mentions Alyna get the most traction, flooded with comments that more or less talk of the same thing -
We know why you chose Alyna, Ewan. We know your ways.
He could have said Alys. Or Gwayne. Or even the ghost of Daeron ffs. But nooooo.... it's Alyna Alyna Alyna 😮‍💨
I wonder if she's there behind the scenes
yeah shes definitely lurking in the background!
Aemond and Alyna better have at least a scene together in season 3!!!!!
Someone kidnap Ryan Condal and make him write this
Ewan doesn't see any of it. Not that he's missing out, because he soon feels the need to call his younger cousin to ask her how to turn off his notifications on Instagram.
Day in and day out, his one single post gets dozens of new comments and likes, a brutal reminder of what he's lost. He could just delete it, and get rid of his profile entirely, but he hates to imagine the discourse that would follow.
All the invasive allegations and rumours. So he leaves it be. It makes no difference to him now. Let people believe what they want.
To his chagrin, he finds himself scrolling on his home page once in a while. The addictive element to it was true, and for him, it's exacerbated because the things he sees are often related to you.
Photos of you from fanpages and news accounts. Ones where your friends have tagged you. It's a toxic habit, looking through it all, but he can't help himself.
Then one day, as he's slouched on the seat in his London apartment, phone propped on his knees, he sees a cutout photo of his face on the corner of the screen. He clicks on it, and it's an image of him interposed among different posts. Posts which he apparently liked.
"Oh for fuck's sake," he cusses at himself, reading the caption.
Boyfriend lurking? - Ewan Mitchell may play a formidable TV villain, but in real life, he's just like us. Click on the link in bio to see his series of liked posts!
Dread takes root in him, followed by self-loathing. Why couldn't he just keep off this bloody thing? He takes to the comments to see what he has allegedly liked on accident and it's predictably photos of you - you at a premiere, stills of you as Alyna, and even, heavens fucking forbid, a behind the scenes shot of you getting pretty close with Jacob Elordi on the set of your film.
He vividly remembers seeing that last one, because he went on a bender after coming across it.
Cursing himself and his wayward, sticky fingers, he exits the app and deletes it from his phone.
Whatever goes on there, whatever people might leave on his profile, he washes his hands of it.
He calls up several of his mates, asking them if they want to come over for a few drinks.
"Again, Ewan?" one of them exclaims. "C'mon, you gotta take a breather, mate."
"I don't need a breather." I need her.
"Ewan - "
His composure breaks, all his damned frustrations rising to the surface, and he confesses, "I wonder if she thinks about me."
"Hang in there, mate. We're coming over."
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October
The director finally yells a satisfied, "Cut!"
It's only taken a good twenty-something takes for you and Jacob to nail a challenging scene. You had been on a roll since the beginning of the shoot, the last few weeks seemingly a breeze on paper, though it's a constant struggle to keep it together.
You've had to quell your internal dialogue so it does not stray to him. His smile. The feel of his skin against yours. His way of subtly picking up on details, and doing sweet things that surprise you as a result.
But you received word just before the scene that a few of your friends have come to visit, waiting back at your trailer - Phia, Fabien and his girlfriend, Bella.
And so, as if on instinct, Ewan is all you can focus on, every repressed memory of him rushing in like a tidal wave.
Do they know? What could you possibly say to justify what you did? You can only hope he took on that project, to give you a bitter sense of vindication.
It's the only thing that keeps it all the bay, the only thing that keeps you from jumping on the next flight to England and grovelling at his door.
Phia has her arms wrapped around you the moment you open the door to your trailer, loudly squealing, "I missed you!"
You sink into the hug, comforted by her presence.
As well as the fact that she represents some connection to Ewan.
Phia, Helaena. Helaena, Aemond. Aemond, Ewan.
It's a sick game to play, but it's what you have.
"Hey, yous," you hug Fabien and Bella in turn. Not long after, you're all lounging on director's chairs right outside your trailer, enjoying a bit of sun.
"How's our big Hollywood star?" Phia quips, her lips curling in her trademark pleasant upturn.
"Hardly a star," you shake your head fondly. "More of an indie darling."
"Of course, of course," she relents, before going on a monologue about how she's been keeping tabs on your project, how she just adores the costume designer whom she spoke to at length while you were working, and how the rest of the cast is rooting for you.
The rest of the cast.
"Ah, are they?" you ask, making a conscious effort to not simply blurt out his name. What does he think? Has he mentioned you at all?
Do they know?
Do they secretly hate you for what you did?
"Mhmm, right Fabs?" she says.
"Oh, definitely." Fabien agrees right away.
"How's your film? Are you done shooting in Philly?" you ask him.
"Just about done, but I think we're doing some final reshoots next week. I'm just glad my girl's here to visit," he slings an arm around Bella, who smiles and leans closer to him.
You smile at the sight, but it visibly falters. Ewan could be visiting you on set right now, just like Bella with Fabien, if you hadn't fucked it all up.
They notice.
"Love," Phia sighs, her tone softening. "I just want you know - we want you know - we're here for you, okay? No matter what you went through with... " A pause. Like saying his name would open up the floodgates.
Your gaze falls to your lap in shame. You pick on invisible lint on your trousers. Bite your lip. Breathe deeply.
Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry.
"So you guys know, huh?"
"Well, more or less," Phia says. "I just spoke with... Ewan... recently. He's back in Derby for the time being, and he's - "
"He's a bit rough," Fabien says firmly. He's not taking sides here, but he's heard from Ewan, and he feels the need to have his mate's back. "Look, I don't want to pry, but what happened? It seemed like you guys were doing so well together!"
"You don't have to tell us," Phia adds, shooting Fabien a look. "But if you want to, we're here to listen. We love you both and we just want to help, love."
You feel your eyes welling up. Leave it to Phia to be oh so sweet. You can't lie to them, you don't want to. Even if you did, they would see right through it.
Your friends know you too well.
"I... I miss him."
Phia squeezes your hand, and the whole story is about to spill out of you when you hear your name being called.
It's your assistant Clara, letting you know you're needed back on set.
You swallow back tears, standing on your feet, trying to maintain enough composure so you can grant yourself access back to your character.
"Go do your thing, superstar," Phia smiles comfortingly. "We'll be here when you're ready."
▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎
November
"I'd like to propose a toast," Tom declares out loud in the empty pub, "to Ewan, Hollywood's new elf... Lord? Prince? Ah sod it, cheers!"
Round the table, Ewan, Fabien, Luke and Elliott all raise their pints with a collective, "Hear, hear!"
The pub has been cleared out for the lads, thanks to a favour called in by the twins, with the owner being their gym buddy and good friend.
"Thank you," Ewan replies, smirking. "I am your new elf prince, address me as such."
"Your ears have never been pointier, mate," Luke quips.
After a month of moping back home in Derby, or recovering as Ewan prefers to put it, he got a call from his manager telling him that the offer from Bruce still stands.
Apparently, the production team for the movie still had him tapped as the prime choice for the lead. After observing his audience metrics and overall viability, they decided that the movie would fare the best with him in it.
They had planted some half-baked announcements in the media, stating that it was Ewan against Joseph Quinn and Manny Jacinto for the role, and the fan reaction veered in Ewan's favour by a landslide.
Even though Bruce had an unsavoury word or two to say about him, he was willing to work past it, so long as Ewan would be more amenable to his demands.
After careful deliberation, Ewan chose to throw caution to the wind, and accept the role. So what if he has to pretend to have a real-life romance with Jenna? This is what you wanted.
"I'm glad you finally came out to see us, mate," Fabien says. "It's been a while."
"Yeah, fuck's sake. Remind us never to break your heart! That was tough to witness, you hunkerin' down out there all mopey and whatnot," Elliott laughs.
"Mmm." Ewan takes a swig of his beer to hide the wince he couldn't hold back. His friends, and most of the cast know by now, not in too much detail, of what went down between the two of you.
A typical short-lived romance of two actors. A summer fling. Most of them would look back and only see it as that.
Even though it was so much more. Even though Ewan still recalls how warm and soft and beautiful you felt as you whimpered underneath him, the loss of you as painful as getting hit by a freight train.
The liquor helps. Burying himself in work helps. Denial... well, that certainly helps the most.
When he goes out to the back garden for a smoke break with Fabien, he tricks himself into believing it's mere curiosity that compels him to say, "Phia mentioned that you guys went to Atlanta."
Fabien is rendered off guard, because he knows what's coming. "Yeah, we did. Bella came with us too. She was visiting me on set," he says, measuredly.
"Mmm." A long drag, a flick of ash towards the ground, an unaffected shrug - and eventually, with as impassive of a tone as he can muster, Ewan asks, "So how is she?"
Fabien smiles knowingly. "She's doing great. Her film's looking pretty good." He's privy to the truth, after he and Phia managed to gently coax it out of you over several martinis at a hotel bar in Atlanta. But he doesn't think it up to him to reveal that to Ewan, out of respect for your privacy.
While he might not share your sentiment, he thinks it's not in his place to tell Ewan that you basically lied for his sake.
But that doesn't mean he won't drop a helpful nugget or two.
"You know, I don't exactly know what's going on... but her and Jacob came across as nothing more than friends."
Ewan's hand freezes mid-air, the cigarette inches from his lips. He loathes the sense of hope that immediately bloomed in his chest. He's so bloody easy. One miniscule hint, and his delusions break through the wall of indifference he worked so hard to build.
"She said she has feelings for him," Ewan stresses, trying to convince himself. What was the fucking point of all this... this pain... if you never did?
"Hey, mate, I dunno," Fabien puts his hands up, "just telling you what I saw."
"It doesn't matter." It does. "She ended it." He wants you back, he will always want you back. "It's better this way."
"Is it?"
Ewan doesn't answer. He doesn't know how to, without grossly embellishing the truth.
Fabien watches his friend, sensing his hesitation as he averts his gaze. One thing becomes clear to him - you and Ewan are far from being over.
So he says, "She misses you, you know."
Ewan regards him with a stony look, one that slowly softens to reveal the broken boy inside. For but a moment, before he clears his throat and throws the butt of his cigarette on the ground.
"Let's head back inside."
▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎
December
You're back in London, as production for your film is paused for the upcoming holiday season.
Work is supposed to be the last thing on your mind, but it just so happens that your manager has you booked for a chemistry read for a yet undisclosed film.
Phia came over to your apartment, insisting that she help you get ready. When you asked how she found out about your audition, she was quick to say that she was up for the role as well but didn't think it was right for her.
"Why not?" you ask, as she hovers over you, patting blush on the apples of your cheeks.
"Oh, you just get a feel for these things."
"Phi, it's just a chemistry read," you say, when she reaches for the mascara. "I don't need to get all dolled up for this."
She gasps, "Oh, but this is showbiz, darling. We always have to put a face on."
"Fine," you relent. "Do your worst."
The makeup she ends up doing on you is minimal, but it enhances your features just the right amount. You rush through your final preparations, folding up the script sample you were given and stuffing it in your purse.
Phia stands out on your balcony, in the middle of a call. The window screen is slightly open, so you hear snippets of the conversation as you walk by.
"Is he ready?" she asks. Who's he? You assume it's the guy you are doing the read with.
You don't know about him, but you are ready, so you stick your head out to say, "I gotta go, Phi."
"Oh!" She startles a little, angling her phone away. "Already?"
"Yeah, the read's at 4, I believe. Just lock the door when you leave, 'kay?"
She hurriedly whispers something to her phone, presumably ending her call. "I'll actually head out with you," she grins. "My work here is done anyway."
"Any plans for the night?"
She shrugs, "Might meet with Tom and Martha."
"Oh, why don't I meet you guys after my thing?"
"Uhhhm," she chews on her lip, thinking. Under her breath, you barely hear her mumble, "... hoping you'd be busy."
"What?" A restrained chuckle escapes you, confused as to why she's being so coy.
"Nothing," she tilts her head. "We can meet if you'd like."
The weird exchange is out of your mind when you arrive at the casting agency. You run the scene through in your head as you walk in the building, up the elevator, down the long hallway.
It's a heartfelt scene, if not a little tense, a dialogue between reunited ex-lovers.
Your manager Polina and publicist Mallory greet you at the doors, swiftly briefing you before directing you in.
"They're waiting, just walk right in, doll," Polina says.
"Okay, wish me luck!" You have your hand on the door handle when Mallory strangely remarks, "Don't hate us, sweetheart!"
"Why would I - "
"Go, go," Polina guides you in, then shuts the door behind you.
The office sports an spacious and open layout, with plenty of natural light streaming through large windows. The primary workstation is partially hidden behind a subtle partition. You see silhouettes of a few people behind it, so you walk down that way.
The figures reveal themselves soon enough - the casting agents you recognise as Patrick and Amie, sitting in front of the actor you're meant to read with.
A range of emotion washes over you, but you don't even have time to reckon with them. The casting agents divert your attention from Ewan, as they approach you with wide smiles in greeting.
"So nice to finally meet you!" Amie croons. "Take a seat. You two already know each other, of course. Between us, there won't really be a question of chemistry here."
"Right?" Patrick adds, looking between you and Ewan. "The fans sure think so, and we have to say we already agree."
"So just give us a minute to set up," Amie says. "Then we'll start."
You smile stiffly, settling down on the opposite end of the couch. You keep your gaze straight, trying to keep your attention on Patrick as he sets up the camera. Your heartbeat races the entire time, and you feel your hands getting clammy.
"They're all in on it," you hear Ewan say, prompting you to finally look at him directly. You take him in hungrily, admiring his outline, ever so handsome with his Targaryen-blonde hair and black leather jacket.
A weak "Mmm?" is all you can muster.
"Our teams, Tom, Phia... they set us up. Tom came over and I overheard him on the phone with Phia."
"Oh," you mumble. He doesn't even spare you a glance, leaning on the armrest on his side of the couch. He looks as if he'd rather be anywhere but here, next to you, and it hurts.
It's what you deserve.
"Is this not a real chemistry read?" you ask meekly.
"I suppose it is," he laughs humourlessly, "but it's not a coincidence that you and I just happen to be the only ones scheduled for today." He turns to you, giving you a critical sideways glance. "Didn't see that coming, did you?"
"I... I can leave if you want - "
"Mmm," his brows furrow, "you do seem to be good at that."
You look away. He is not being fair, but you weren't neither, that wretched night back in September.
And he is making you pay for it now.
But then you hear him speak in a softer tone, "Stay."
Stay. When you look at him once more, his attention is entirely on you, arm outstretched on the couch like he just tried to reach for you but decided against it.
Stay, he asked. So you do.
It's what you should have done, months ago.
"Okay, guys. Whenever you're ready," Amie says. She and Patrick take their seats in front of you, with the camera on a stand between them.
The script crinkles on your lap as you hold it with shaky fingers. "It's been a while," you read out your opening line.
The dialogue plays out twisted and ironic, now that you know who your scene partner is.
"Hardly," Ewan responds in character. "I feel like no time as passed."
"Feels like a lifetime."
He pauses, then sighs, "Do you even miss me?"
"How... how can you even ask me that?"
"How can I - "
"Why didn't you... why didn't you fight for me?" your voice breaks, the lines hitting a bit too close to home.
"You're a fucking hypocrite," he spits with venom. "You weren't exactly giving me anything to fight for."
"I did it for us. I did it all for us." If you didn't feel like crying at the weight of the scene, you would have rolled your eyes at the similarities.
"Like I said - nothing to fight for."
"Nothing? So you're telling me I was nothing to you."
"No," he levels you with an icy look, "you were everything to me. Everything. But you left me behind, and for what? So you can run off with the rebel sect?"
"The mission needed me. You wouldn't understand." You feel a sense of relief when the sci-fi elements roll in, otherwise you might have given in to your emotions and sobbed right there on the damn couch.
"I needed you," Ewan says, eyes not leaving yours. "I needed you and you abandoned me, just like that."
"And are you not better for it? When I left, did they not make you General?"
"See, that is the difference between you and I," he says coldly. "I wouldn't have traded what we had for anything - no position, no amount of wealth, no glory... I would have chosen us every time."
"Aaand cut!" Patrick jokes, effectively breaking the tension.
The two of you have unconsciously drifted closer, now only a foot part. Ewan does not drop your gaze, watching you closely. You see his eyes flit down to your parted lips, and he leans in almost imperceptibly.
"Alright, how about we go one more time?" Amie says, diverting your attention. "Give us a different take, and then that's it!"
Ewan settles back on his end of the couch. When he reads his lines again, his tone is harsher and he no longer meets your eyes.
Patrick and Amie commend you both afterward, singing praises about your acting abilities. Ewan is polite as always, blushing and grateful, but he practically dashes out of the door when the meeting finishes.
You're left standing with Amie, as Patrick has taken to his laptop to file the footage.
"The way he looks at you," she sighs dreamily, referring to Ewan. "You'd think the sun shone out your arse, doll."
"He... he was just in character," you disagree. "He's a good actor, as you know."
"Yeah, I mean, he nailed the part's rancour perfectly. But his eyes - oof - you've got a good one there."
Oh. Of course they would still assume you and him are together.
How desperately you want it to be true.
▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎
An hour later, you've just sent Phia a text saying - You owe me. Where do I meet you guys?
But you hear a knock on your apartment door. If you didn't buzz anyone in, it can only be a neighbour or someone the doorman recognised.
Someone familiar to you.
And it's him.
"Ewan?"
"I need to speak with you."
You step aside so he doesn't linger at your doorway. He walks past you, a welcome if not unexpected presence in the room.
You can't decipher his expression, his gaze angled downward as he leans against your kitchen counter.
When the silence becomes almost deafening, you laugh awkwardly, about to make some silly remark on whether he is still in character. But he doesn't let you diffuse the tension.
"I want you," he blurts out without warning. "God help me, I still want you. I think I might have a fucking problem because how can I... after what you did - " A momentary glance of betrayal, but you see the spite clear in his eyes. " - but I do. I can't get you out of my system."
"I'm sorry - "
"I don't need that," he says sharply. "I don't need your sorry. I need you. I need to have you, and maybe this way, I'll satisfy whatever pointless desire I still have in me."
"What are you saying?"
"I'm saying - I'm asking - will you let me have you?"
"Ewan, I don't under - "
"I'm saying that we should sleep together," he says bluntly, and it feels like the rug has been pulled from under your feet, "but only just. You won't be mine, and I won't be yours."
"You're kidding."
He shakes his head, before adding, "Don't worry. It'll be our little secret. To the rest of the world, I'll have a different girlfriend anyway."
His words register, along with the bitter ache at his words, that you won't be his, he won't be yours. This is purely for pleasure. There used to be love here, and now he just craves the comfort your body allows.
You'll be using each other.
You should refuse. This is not healthy; this is not how you move on. Can you even go back to being good friends after this? But also - what have you got to lose?
What, except for him, and for good this time?
What, except everything?
"So what do you say - " He closes in on you, and with every bit of malice intended, the name no longer possessing the sweetness it once held, he sneers, "- darling?"
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💌 next chapter
Taglist: @namelesslosers @skymoonandstardust @valyrianflower @luckyfirebasement @omgsuperstarg @elissanatok @callsignwidow @sinistersnakey49 @darkwriteracademia @yyrzmomo @queenofshinigamis @luvaerina @shamelessblazecrown @mirandastuckinthe80s @elleinex0x0 @pierrotlu @aegonswife @strangersunghoon @lunampacheco @writer-ann-artist @gaiaea @of-swords-and-words @ateliefloresdaprimavera @m00n5t0n3 @helaenaluvr @peachysunrize @annie-ruk @luvly-writer @ananas26t @athenafaes @lovelyteenagebeard @mamawiggers1980 @moongirl27 @katherine93 @barnes70stark @justbelljust @cloudroomblog @somestufftoday @esposadomd @girl-in-the-chairs-void @insideyourimagination @vyctorya @wildrangers @livcookesgf @onlyrealjoy (continued ... )
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Some notes in the margins...
Well well well... the transition from friends to lovers to strangers to angsty FWBs sure is a slippery slope!
The time jumps are so we get through the moping quicker! It's mostly back to the regular shenanigans in the next part. Only, you know, angst-ridden. But you hurt Ewan, reader. *wags finger* Don't say you didn't expect this switch! Tsktsk
So what now - will you accept this arrangement? Will things ever be truly okay? Part 7 is going to be hot and hilarious and stupid and messy, just as the doctor ordered.
Let's hash it out in the comments, shall we? 🗡💕
716 notes · View notes
a-hazbin-reader · 10 months ago
Note
HII
Could you do some hcs of alastor with wife!reader who ABSO(LUTE)LY adores dogs? (alastor hates the dog with his entire life)
I mean...he kinda has a good reason not to be a dog person...
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😡
Alastor X Reader Headcanons
✅️Romantic
❌️Platonic
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TW: Alastor Vs Doggo 🐶 Cannibalism, Vox getting owned by dog
Description: ☝️⬆️
Look, Alastor loves you deeply and would do anything for you, absolutely anything
Except let you have a dog
Absolutely not, he won't have a dog running around in his hotel and creating problems
He can already see it
The dog using the hotel as it's personal bathroom, gnawing on his hooves and ruining all the furniture
Humping everything in sight!!
You can have anything else, you can have Niffty! She makes a good pet don't you think?
No
How about Husk? He's basically a cat
"Fuck you!"
You want a dog, you even have one picked out already
You what? When did you even have time to go look at dogs? He's been purposefully keeping you busy anytime you mention one
The bite marks all over your body are evidence of it
Totally doesn't believe you're actually bringing home a dog until you do, then he's spitting out his tea
"Y/N, darling, what is that?"
"A smoothie."
"You know what I mean."
"Oh this? Our new dog, isn't he cute?"
You can't have a dog in the hotel-
Charlie and everyone else already agreed to it, even Husk said yes just to piss off Alastor
So everyone is on your side and you'll have adequate help, Alastor won't hardly ever even notice the dog
Except he does notice the dog, like all the time
The damned beast is always trying to hop up next to him, only to be shoved off by Alastor
"No furry beasts on the furniture~ The hair is a nightmare to clean up. Disgusting really..."
Not Husk and Angel giving him dirty looks for that one
After a couple of unsuccessful attempts to sit next to him, it simply settles for resting by his feet
At least it makes a decent footrest
Or the dog is always hogging your attention, sitting in your lap, laying with you in bed, following you around
How is a man supposed to sleep with his wife when there's some mutt in his spot???
You've caught Alastor glaring at your dog a few times, especially when you're giving him scratches and pets
He wants to be the one to hog your lap and be pampered by you, maybe you could even try giving him a belly rub or two
It certainly looks appealing
Alastor at least thinks he can get time alone with you outside of the hotel but nope, you insist on taking the dog with you
"He needs the fresh air and exercise, Alastor!"
But your husband needs some alone time with you! He's not being dramatic!
Or he's trying to enjoy his breakfast?? Guess who's paws are on the table, begging and slobbering over the idea of a bite
"Absolutely not, you can just forget abou-HEY!"
Looks like his breakfast now belongs to the dog
You definitely make him another breakfast and apologize over and over again
Kiss him and sit in his lap, then maybe he'll consider forgiving you~
Sometimes, when you're sleeping, Alastor and the dog will be locked into a staring match
"I don't like you."
Whine
Rosie tries to sell him on the idea of just maybe liking this one dog, even she's taken a liking to him apparently
Traitor
You make Alastor promise that he won't ever get rid of the dog, OR EAT HIM, OR HURT HIM
And he can't break a promise he made to his darling wife
But he hates this fucking dog with a passion so when the dog suddenly gets out one day? He's perfectly content to let him run off
Until he realizes how upset you would be that your beloved pooch is gone and that gives him pause
Fffffffffuck
Not him spending all day trying to find a dog he doesn't even like, asking everyone if they've seen him
Nope, no, sorry no, ect
Just when Alastor has just about given up and started to contemplate trying to replace the mutt, he hears a familiar yell
"IS THIS DOG FUCKING PISSING ON ME!?"
Vox
Following the sound, Alastor is greeted with the sight of your dog running circles around Vox, who's standing in a puddle with wet pants
For some reason, the delightful mutt has taken to terrorizing him, biting at his limbs only to jump just out of reach of Vox's claws
Maybe it's something he's picked up from Alastor, you certainly didn't teach the dog that
The sight is too funny for Alastor, who doesn't even try to stop the dog, only laughing maniacally
Maybe this mutt isn't so bad
Later, when he comes home with the dog, you notice they seem much fonder of each other
Alastor goes and picks him out a fancy new leash, he starts giving him table scraps and he even invites the dog to be his footrest
Quit putting your feet on my dog
Stop giving the dog fingers!!
You catch him giving the pup a few scratches here and there, almost in an absent-minded manner
He starts calling the dog by his name instead of calling him beast, mutt, hound, monstrosity, ect
He even gives the dog his own room at the hotel with his own fluffy doggy bed
Okay, that last part might just be him wanting his marital bed back
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We love dogs in this house!!
1K notes · View notes
wonustars · 1 year ago
Text
𝘋𝘰𝘯𝘵 𝘔𝘰𝘷𝘦, 𝘏𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘺
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Soobin vers. | Beomgyu vers.
txt as 5sos songs: you look so perfect.
Summary: yeonjun is a well known, attractive, and respected. you two are total opposites. the last thing that you would expect is for him to take interest in you. first meeting you at a coffee shop, he beomes a regular. constantly coming back to visit, but not just for the iced americanos.
Reposts are always appreciated/encouraged!! Tumblr works on reblogs not likes, Thank you for your support :)
Tags: nonidol!yj, popular!yj, campuscrush!yj, shy!asocial!reader, total opposites, opposites attract, yeonjun is so sweet and gives lots of reassurance, reader is a little angsty but still a lovely mc!
SMUT! MDNI 18+ only!
Warnings: dom!yeonjun, sub!reader, afab!reader, virgin!reader, unprotected sex, oral (f. receiving), fingering, mating press, creampie, bigdick!yeonjun,this one is more on the vanilla side.
Word count: 5k words
Note: this story contains smut so minors pls DNI! I mean it, if I see you interacting i will be blocking you. hellowwww!! a lot of people really liked the preview so, heres the full thing hehe. i like half assed with the proof read so let me know if i've missed any typos, tags or warnings!! my lovely Taehyun will be after this one :)
happy reading ~
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All your life you had been the one in the shadows. There are no major plot points or no “y/n moments” that people would use to describe Wattpad-like events. You weren’t upset about this though, the life you live is content, happy enough. 
A normal day-to-day for you consists only of two things, school, and working at the cafe across campus. Your life isn’t appealing to others, but you like how quiet it is. A quiet life with no disturbances, no drama, and no feelings of stress. It's a peculiar feeling to want something that seems so lonely.
The last time you witnessed a major disturbance in your life had to be the event that took place within the confines of your part-time job. Two men were trying to win the heart of a girl. Two attractive men at that. The whole time the three were quarrelling you wondered what it would feel like knowing someone wanted you that bad, that they would fight someone else to have you. 
It left an odd taste in your mouth, and a stinging feeling behind your eyes. 
“Hey… are you guys still taking orders?” a voice brings you out of your internal tangent. You perk up from the relaxed position you were in. Shamefully, you nod. Not wanting to make eye contact you head towards the register. 
“What can I get for you?” you ask, eyes trained on the ordering screen. 
“A large iced americano please, that’s all.” 
“And the name of the order?” you ask, a stupid question. No one else was in the cafe except you and this random guy. The music feels louder than it usually does, the embarrassment causes your ears to turn red. 
“Yeonjun.” 
..̇·𓏲 would you wanna run away too?
Yeonjun found himself coming to the cafe across campus more often now. The girl behind the counter piqued his interest, more than anyone he’s ever come across before. The energy you gave off, the fact that you were so shy? He couldn’t get you out of his head. So much so that he caught himself visiting you for his iced americano at least once a day. 
Yeonjun was never on the shy side, he had always been popular at school, living a life filled with social interaction. Everyone at school always adored him, not only for his looks but his charming personality. Which only made the fact that not being able to talk to you is a weird, new feeling for him. 
As much as he wanted to talk to you, he just didn’t know what to say. Where to start, how the conversation should come about. He was overthinking, and he also felt like it was wrong to only visit the cafe as an excuse to see you, like a stalker, although this is just some innocent crush. 
“A large iced americano please,” Yeonjun asks, giving you his sweetest smile. You glance up at him and give a slight nod. He has been coming to the cafe more often lately, you weren’t sure why but you weren’t complaining. A handsome customer becoming a regular was something that caused you to look forward to your shifts. 
“Is that all?” you ask, looking up to glance at his features again. Fuck he was so attractive. 
“Actually, there’s something else I wanted to ask.” Yeonjun declares, his face covered with a layer of determination. You don’t say anything, the feeling of anticipation bubbling in your stomach. “Can I also get your number?” 
Your eyes almost fell out of their sockets. Not in a million years could you have predicted that the handsome regular would ask for your number. 
“U-um yeah sure it’s  _” you're stuttering, no one ever asked for your number before. Is this the “y/n moment” so many people on the internet talk about? 
..̇·𓏲 you look so perfect standing there
As soon as you get home from your shift a notification lights up your screen. It was a foreign feeling to see your phone light up from a notification, let alone a message. Of course, you had friends, but they preferred to hang out in person rather than text. 
You already knew who it could be from, your cheeks heating up at the thought, and possibilities of what this notification might contain. Getting ready for bed quickly, you envelope yourself in your comforter. The light from your phone screen lights up your dark room. 
unknown number: hey, is this y/n? its yeonjun. from the cafe. 
you: Yes this is y/n :) 
yeonjun: hi! you got home safely, im glad. 
you: Yes I did, and so did you. I’m also glad. 
yeonjun: lol ya i hope i didn’t come off too strong earlier. i just want to get to know you more. 
you: No you didn’t, Its ok. I didn’t think you would even want my number. It was kind of a surprise. 
yeonjun: what ofc i would want your number, i think you’re really pretty. and you make good americanos
you: Thank you, it just wasn’t what i was expecting. Americanos arent rocket science tho, its literally water and espresso lol 
yeonjun: yeah ik but they taste so much better when you make them :)
It’s only been a few minutes since you and Yeonjun started talking over text, but your face has already turned into a deep shade of crimson. Throwing your phone across your bed, you shove your face into your pillow letting out a scream. The sound of your feet hitting your bed as you kick them and giggle like a mad woman. As you come back to your senses, you quickly remember that you have yet to reply. 
you: You flatter me Yj, you should keep coming back for them if you like them so much. 
yeonjun: yj? even my nickname sounds sweeter coming from you, but the Americanos weren’t the only thing i was coming back for. 
The smile on your face hurts your cheeks. Never has anyone made you feel like Yeonjun did as he texted you. The blatant flirting and numerous compliments realized how much you were missing out on while living your mundane student life. 
It had only been a few hours of texting each other back and forth, but you started to grow fond of the person Yeonjun is. He’s so handsome, not just in the face, but also with the way he carried himself. The impression he gives off is insanely attractive. The way he made you feel wanted, liked, and cherished over the simplest things reeled you in. 
..̇·𓏲 your lipstick stain is a work of art 
It’s been a few weeks since you and Yeonjun started talking but it has started to become a part of your daily routine. You’ve become accustomed to the many good morning and goodnight texts, the late night Facetime calls, and the blatant flirting from Yeonjun. 
He still comes into the cafe daily to grab his iced americano which you look forward to every shift. 
“Hey y/n!” a voice coming from the entrance grabs your attention. 
You’re working the lunch rush and have been trying to restock the pastries in the glass display. To your dismay they weren’t cooperating with you, leaving you frustrated and tired. A sigh of defeat leaves your lips and you turn your head over to the person calling your name. 
It’s him. The one person who makes your whole shift a little better. He looked so good walking through the door. His dark blue hair appeared more vibrant than usual, and the sun was hitting his face in the most heavenly way. Your heart was pumping hard, the flow of blood running to your ears and cheeks. 
Yeonjun walks up to you, and you notice someone following close behind him. Your eyes shift between the two of them. Assuming thoughts filling your head quickly. 
She is really pretty, you thought. 
They walk up to the counter together, laughing about something amongst themselves. It made your heart sink to the floor. The feeling in itself made you want to throw up. 
Quickly, you push it aside. You were not wanting your feelings to get in the way of your professionalism, especially at work. 
“Oh, hey Yeonjun and friend. What can I get for you guys?” you ask, smiling a little too hard, trying hard to act normal.
“Two americanos pleasee,” he answers, prolonging the ‘please’ with a little pout. If not for your current situation you would’ve found Yeonjun adorable. Your heart can only feel a stinging sensation at the view of the two in front of you. 
“Sounds good. They’ll be at the end of the counter for you guys,” you mumbled, not really making eye contact with Yeonjun. 
He senses your change in mood but didn’t want to make a fuss with a line slowly forming behind him. It’s the lunch rush after all, so he brushes it off for the time being. Leaving you to work, making a mental note to ask you about it when you’re off. 
..̇·𓏲 got your name tattooed in an arrow heart
Your shift felt longer than usual, probably due to the fact that you couldn’t get Yeonjun off your mind. The feeling in your chest still hasn’t subsided. Who are you to feel jealous about him hanging around other girls? Especially knowing that the two of you aren’t even together. With that tidbit of information circling your mind, you felt even more guilt for letting jealousy get the better of you. 
Not bothering to even check your phone, you focus on getting home quickly, wanting to take a shower as soon as you got back. Walking down the sidewalk your legs felt like jelly, thankfully you didn’t live that far from work. It was already past sunset and the light summer breeze whistled with every step you took. Five minutes and you’re already standing in front of your building. A sigh of relief leaves your lips as you stare up at the brown bricks towering over you, imagining your bed and the comfort it brings you. 
As you come closer to your building you see a figure leaning against the wall near the entrance. Your senses are heightened considering there usually aren’t many suspicious people who tend to hang around your building. The distance between you and this stranger has gotten smaller, revealing their identity. All the while your heart drops once again, but in relief. 
“Y/n! Hey sorry if I freaked you out. You weren’t answering my texts I thought something bad happened to you.” Yeonjun explained, coming closer to you. His scent fills your senses, calming you down in just a blink of an eye. Thank god it was just him and not some stalker. 
“Hi Junnie, sorry I didn’t answer you. I didn’t check my phone after I got off. How do you know where I live?” You asked, raising an eyebrow at him, pretending to be suspicious of his actions. Your arms are crossed as you face towards him, his eyes are round as a globe. 
“U-uh sorry if I seem like a creep y/n-” he chuckles nervously as he scratches the back of his head “-I asked one of your friends because you usually shoot me text when you’re off work.” 
“Oh ok, and no I don’t think your creepy. We’ve known eachother long enough to know these types of things anyways.” You comfort him, patting his back as you tilt your head towards the entrance. Silently asking if he wanted to come upstairs with you. 
As if it didn’t exist in the first place, the feeling of jealousy brewing in your stomach disappeared. The only thing left was the warmth Yeonjun brought you, even though your relationship has been undefined. Unlabelled. He felt like a new world you had yet to explore. New experiences that you’re waiting to try. Although he was popular, especially with the women around campus, he was a total green flag. 
Yeonjun nods his head, giving you his signature heart stopper smile as you lead him up to your apartment.
The familiar air of the building envelopes you, both of your footsteps echoing as you slowly ascend up the stairs. It wasn’t too long of a trip since you live on the second floor. 
A warm hand intertwines with yours, causing the hair on your arms to stand. The chills running through your body like an electric shock. If you weren’t quick enough, you would’ve tripped on the next step; taking Yeonjun down with you. But you relax, squeezing his hand reassuringly as you allow him to continue to follow you. 
What felt like an eternity, was in reality only a minute or two. You and Yeonjun finally made it up to the front door of your home. Your hands staying intertwined even when you fetch your keys from the bottom of your bag. As you unlock the door, your shoulders instantly relax. This is what you’ve been dreaming of since the moment you clocked into work. 
“Well, this is me.” you turn to him, shyly smiling. It wasn’t much but you were happy here. 
He chuckles. “Its cute. It suits your vibe.” 
You can’t help but smile as you continue to drag him through the rest of your living space. He follows you obediently, taking in everything little by little. The whole place felt warm, cozy, familiar. Which is exactly how Yeonjun feels about you. 
“Im gonna take a shower and change. You can watch something while you wait if you’d like.” You beam up at him with his hand still glued to yours, both sets of eyes twinkling against the ambient lighting. In this specific lighting you found Yeonjun to be so pretty. The dim lighting accentuating his features; the pink tint to his lips, the sharpness of his nose, the admiration in his eyes. 
Distracted by your beauty, Yeonjun can only smile and nod. 
..̇·𓏲 dont move, honey
As you leave your room, you see Yeonjun sitting on your couch. Looks like he’s made himself at home, you thought. Giggling quietly to yourself, you close the door shut. The sound causing Yeonjun to move his eyes over to you. His eyes are stuck on your figure, he didn’t expect you to walk out in such little clothing. The lump in his throat gets harder to swallow as you make your way to him. 
Your definition of comfortable clothing is a oversized shirt and some sleep shorts. Yeonjun doesn’t know what to do. He doesn’t want to be rude and keep staring but he just can’t tear his eyes off you. The way your wet hair is causing your shirt to dampen; giving a sneak peak at your breasts. Or the factt that your shorts barely covered any part of you, it almost looked like you weren’t wearing any at all. God, he felt like a pervert, you looked so good he couldn’t help but feel-
“Whatcha watching?” you inquire, sitting down beside him, dangerously close. 
“Hmm just some random youtube video I stumbled upon.” he shrugs, trying to look non-chalant, but in reality, he was screaming at himself for being so turned on right now. 
“Oh ok.” You turn your attention towards the TV, your body stiff as you think about the proximity between you and Yeonjun right now. It’s the frist time he’s been over, and it’s also the first time you’ve spent alone time in person. At this moment you can only wonder if he feels the same way you do. 
With that thought, the memory of the girl who accompanied him to the cafe ressurfaces. You wonder if she was something more to him, of if they are just friends. Silently you pray its the latter. The feelings you’ve grown for Yeonjun seems to strengthen with everyday and night that you two talk. Although its a sad thought, he has every right to talk to other people; especially since neither of you stated that you would be exclusive. You aren’t really an expert in these types of situations anyways. 
Ever since you were young, the only relationships you’ve experienced were through media or reading. Some of your friends would tell you about their dating experiences, but you had no stories of your own to share. You were never as outgoing as they were, and you also didn’t like the idea of going out as often as they did. Funnily enough you still ended up in a job where you had to talk to strangers. All of that had lead you to believe that you were better off living the single life, as sad as it sounds; it was true for a good portion of your life. 
Until Yeonjun. 
“H-hey can I ask you something?” you turn over to face your body towards Yeonjun, your eyes flashing with clear nervousness. He pauses the video turning towards you with curious eyes. 
“Yeah of course, anything.” He smiles at you, his hand patting your bare thigh reassuringly. The action causing your cheeks heat up almost instantly. 
“Who was that girl you were with earlier? I know it’s not my place to ask considering we’re just friends but I’ve been thinking about it all day. Obviously if you’re not comfy you do-,” He cuts you off, a giggle leaving his lips. 
“Shes just a friend. She’s dating Soobin so you don’t need to worry.” he reassures, his hand coming back to your thigh again, squeezing it lightly, but this time he keeps it there. Your heartbeat is now in your throat as you look down at his hand. The veins running along his arms were prominent; the fact that his whole hand could grip more than half your thigh caused an unfamiliar heat to flow down to your lower body. 
“O-oh, ok just pretend I didn’t ask that then,” you mumble, your eyes still focused on the way he was no rubbing your thigh. It felt good to experience this type of skinship with him, even if it wasn’t all that much. It still has you stumbling over your words. 
“I thought you knew I liked you already y/n. I thought you knew from the moment I asked for your number.” he whispered, his face coming closer to yours. 
Your breath hitched not being able to move your eyes away from his lips. 
“U-um I didn’t know. No ones ever shown interest in me.” you confess, your head now turned down towards your hands as you play with them nervously. 
“Thats ok baby, I’m interested in you. I like you.” Yeonjun states firmly. His finger carefully placed under your chin, forcing your gaze to meet his. The look in his eyes sent a chill down your spine. This is the first time you’ve seen Yeonjun look so serious. You couldn’t help but gulp. 
“I like you too Junnie.” you whisper, your eyes locked on his. Smiling, Yeonjun strokes your cheek with his thumb. The warmth of his hand still burning onto your thigh. 
“Fuck y/n It’s so hard for me to hold back when you call me that.” His tone is low. Staring at your lips, he begins to trace their outline. 
“What? Junnie?” you provoke, matching his tone. A groan almost leaves his lips but instead his grip on your thigh only tightens. 
“May I kiss you y/n?” Yeonjun’s polite words are a stark contracts as to all the thoughts brewing in his head. You seem to have lost your voice, only nodding as you slowly try to close the gap. 
With Yeonjun’s lips on yours he grips your waist pulling you onto his lap in a swift motion. You can’t help but yelp at how easily he can move you around. It was like you were his own personal ragdoll. Wrapping your arms around his neck, he deepens the kiss.
This is your first time kissing someone but you’re glad your first is Yeonjun. Not only do you have feelings for him, but he tasted so good. It felt so wrong but right at the exact same time. 
The two of you continue to kiss passionately, and you feel yourself naturally move with the flow. Your hips starting to move back and forth slightly as Yeonjun guides you with his large hands. A tiny gasp escapes your lips as you feel something hard rub against your core. Although this was all new to you, it was like you already knew what to do. Yeonjun takes the opportunity to allow his tongue to enter your mouth. This surprises you, pulling away you say,
“Junnie I-i’ve never done anything like this before.” you squeaked, burying your face into his neck. He rubs his hands up and down the sides of your thighs, soothing you. 
“Thats alright princess, I can show you how. Will you let me?” he asks, his hands moving to take your face away from the space between his shoulder and neck. Brushing the hair out of your face, he tucks the strands behind your ear. The action in itself can only cause your cheeks to burn a deep red. Everything Yeonjun did always had you feeling like the most cherished girl in the world. You can only nod as his actions have left you speechless. 
“With your words princess.” he demands, a hand snakes down to your hips giving you an encouraging squeeze. 
“Yes Junnie, please show me how,” you murmur. Steadily, you move closer to him wanting to close the gap between you two again. You want to feel the same way you did when your bodies were pressed up against eachother. 
“Alright darling, just let me know if it gets too much for you ok? I’ll only go as far as you let me.” 
“Yes Junnie.”
“Good girl.” his hands are back on your hips, his lips back on yours. The wet sounds coming from both your mouths have you riled up. Yeonjuns back to moving your hips back and forth, desperately wanting to increase the friction. The sensation of his hard dick rubbing against you was addicting. Your thin shorts not really leaving anything up to imagination. 
Yeonjun can only groan, the feeling of your warm cunt against his cock is driving his crazy. He can only wonder how it must feel to be inside you. 
“F-feel’s good Jun.” you moan into the kiss, your hips now moving on their own accord. 
“You like that princess?” he chuckles, peppering kisses along your neck and collarbone, leaving love bites in his tracks. Slowly his hands creep up under your shirt. It lifts ups as his hands move higher. They almost hit your bare breasts, but before he proceeds he looks up to you for approval. You can only nod, dazed from all your senses going into overdrive. 
Yeonjun doesn’t waste any time and removes your shirt. You’re left bare in front of him, the blush on your cheeks still noticeable in the dim lighting. 
“You’re beautiful love,” he assures, going back to his ministrations. Kissing up and down your neck until he reaches your breasts. He takes one in his hand and the other one in his mouth. You can only moan, your head lolling back from the pleasure. Hands gripping onto his hair for some type of balance. 
Yeonjun is rock hard under you, the pulse in his dick only getting more noticable the more he pleasures you. He wants to show you how much he wants you, to show you how much you deserved to be cherished. 
Tongue swirling around your nipple, your moans become less shy, the feeling of being pleasured taking over you. Yeonjuns mouth moving onto the other nipple as he picks you up. You yelp from the sudden movement but wrap your legs around his waist anyways. 
His feet padding towards your bedroom, he opens the door. Gently he places you on your mattress, situating himself between your legs.
“Are you still doing ok over there sweetheart?” he inquires. 
“Really ok Junnie, please keep going. Want more.” you whimper, your elbows stablizing you as you get a good view of him. He begins to remove your shorts, your pussy glistening from how wet he’s gotten you. A groan bubbles up in Yeonjuns throat; just looking at you in this light could make him cum. 
He makes himself comfortable with his head between your thighs. Taking things slow, he uses one finger to play with your entrance. Rubbing you all over, collecting your wetness before he finally pushes a finger in. 
You moan, your elbows collapsing from the pleasure. You grip your sheets as he pumps his finger in and out of you. The lewd sounds of your soaking core bouncing off the walls. After a few more pumps he adds in another finger, the stretch burning so good.
He looks up at you to see you whimpering for him, his name leaving your mouth in what sounded like a sweet melody. The way your brows scrunch with his every moves turns him on even more. Watching you coming undone on his fingers is a sight he wants to see everyday if he could.
“Let me taste you baby.” Yeonjun says with a deep tone to his voice. Every word coming out of his mouth is dripping with lust. With that warning he places a kiss on your clit, your hands moving from your sheets to grip his hair. He continues to kitten lick and suck on your sensitive bud, the pleasure sending you to another universe. 
“O-oh Junnie, it feels so good.” you squeak out. He places your legs over his shoulders, delving into you more. He’s properly eating you out now, his fingers pumping in and out of your wet heat while licking you all at the same time. As he goes on, an unfamiliar feeling starts to brew in your stomach; growing stronger as more time passed. 
“I can feel your pussy gripping my fingers baby, cum for me. I know you can do it, just let go.” Yeonjun purrs, his words of encouragement is your last straw before your orgasm. 
“Good girl, so good for me. You’re doing so well my love.” he’s praising you as he moves back up to your face. Hes smirking at you as he hovers over your naked body. His own body still in between your legs, the lower half of his face glistening with your juices. 
“Can I fuck you princess?” he asks.
The vulgar words spewing from his mouth, the way he asks so nicely, the way he calls you such sweet names; the polarity of it all gives you whiplash. 
“Yes please, wanna feel you inside me.” you mumble and you press kissing all along his face, moving down towards his neck. You found it so attractive how he always asks for your consent. 
He quickly undresses, both your clothes randomly thrown around the room. Situating himself between your legs once again, he sits himself on his heels. Pumping his length a few times he then rubs the tip up and down your slit, collecting your juices. The squelching sound of your lips rubbing against his him is like music to his ears. 
Yeonjun finally enters you, causing your back to arch with every inch he slowly puts in. You’ve only heard about sex through friends, but being able to experience it yourself is on another level. The stretch of his cock pushing inside you stings more than when he was fucking you with his fingers. 
“Mmm Junnie I think you’re too big,” you whimper while hes pressing kisses all over your face to soothe you. 
“It’s ok love, it’ll feel better as it goes on ok?” Yeonjun groans, as he keeps pushing into you. He continues till hes dick is buried deep inside you. Stilling for a moment, he lets you get used to the feeling. The scrunched up look on your face begins to relax, giving him a signal to start thrusting into you. 
“Fuck baby you feel so good around me.” he whispers. 
At first hes slow, but the sound of your wet pussy getting fucked by his dick starts to fog his thoughts. Your moans increase in volume, his name falling off your lips repeatedly. 
“Junnie, hmmm it feels so good. Faster please.” you beg as your wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him down for another kiss. Who is he to deny you? 
He fucks into you faster, this time you can hear the slapping sounds as his length goes in and out of you. One of his hands moving between the two of you to rub your clit and his thrusts to turn sloppy. 
Your eyes are rolling to the back of your head the more Yeonjun pumps his dick into you. You could feel his length kiss your cervix with every thrust. This is all so new to you, and the only thing you could do is keep moaning and telling him how good it felt.
“This pussy was made for me. Isn’t it baby?” he states rather than asks.
“Y-yes Jun.” you’re a stuttering mess, you could barely answer him as it is.
“Taking me so well princess. I wanna fuck you like this all the time now.” he praises again, taking your thighs and pressing them towards your stomach. The new angle causes you to whimper, you can feel him so much deeper. Your gummy walls are practically suctioning him.
You moan in response. He’s fucked you dumb at this point, cock drunk with every move he makes inside your wet cunt.
“Can I cum inside you baby?” he asks in between kisses. 
“Please Junnie, wanna feel you cum in me.” you moan, the feeling of your clit being stimualted as he fucks you is causing you to see stars. You cum around him, gripping his dick as you ride out your second orgasm. As if on queue Yeonjun relases his cum inside you, halting his thrusts. He continues to kiss you making sure you feel loved and wanted, his member still buried inside you. 
“You were amazing for your first time princess.” he praises you once again, you kiss him in response. 
“Lets do it again please.” you giggle. 
Yeonjun kisses up your neck, his cock still rock hard. 
“Whatever you want love.” he responds, thrusting into you again. 
© wonustars
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nothorses · 5 months ago
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You've made a lot of really great posts about transmasc experiences and struggles, and they really resonate with me! So I guess I want to in complete earnest ask: why the push for 'transandrophobia' when anti-transmasculinity as a term has been around for longer and faces little friction by comparison? I don't really *dislike* transandrophobia, but its meaning gets muddied everywhere from different directions, while ATM is pretty direct and succinct I feel. It's very clear that it's about TRANSmasculine oppression. I'm not against having a dedicated term at all, but the content of our struggles gets lost in the weeds of attaching kind of understandably divisive terms like misandry and androphobia in an attempt to mirror a phenomenon very specifically about misogyny; it seems more trouble than it's worth considering ATM is right there
I'll be honest, this ask is confusing to me for a few reasons.
When I started talking about transandrophobia around the summer of 2020, the conversations I was encountering were very much, like, a handful of people across Twitter and Tumblr (literally, a handfull!). I picked up "transandrophobia" because it was one of two words I saw in use, and the other- "transmisandry"- felt much less clear and much more contentious. It seemed super obvious to me that people would draw a line from "men's rights activists" trying to push this idea that "misandry", as a systemic oppression of men by women, to "transmisandry", and assume some ill intent where there was none. It's confusing!
"Transandrophobia" was the better of two options being floated at the time, at least in any conversation I saw. "Anti-transmasculinity" was not really a term I'd been made aware of, if anyone at all was talking about it at the time.
I have seen people pick up "anti-transmasculinity" more recently (maybe in the last year?), and this is definitely the first I've seen someone shorten it to "ATM". The people I've seen use that term have been mostly people who seem really new to the conversation, and the vibe I've gotten has been very, like, "we're the Good Transmascs, our word isn't dirty and gross like those other Bad Transmascs everyone hates. you'll listen to us now that our word is Good and Pure, right?"
Which is like... kind of frustrating, and kind of sad, honestly. I think these people honestly believe that if they just choose the right word, all the people who've been dragging me and every other transmasc talking about these issues through the mud for the last 4 years or so will really just stop & listen. If they can just say it right, these people- who have been relentlessly harassing and spreading lies about every single transmasc who came before them for years now- will care what they have to say, and will be willing to engage with them in earnest, compassionate dialogue.
If you just find the right word, all of these people will care about your hurt, your pain, and the suffering of your community.
It kind of breaks my heart. It's an incredibly hopeful, kind, loving way to view the world. It's compassion and patience and forgiveness that these folks are not being given, but that they so badly want to offer to others.
And at the same time, it sucks to be the Bad Transmasc. It sucks to have fought so hard for so long, and for the people I've been fighting for all this time to turn around and say, "you're gross, and dirty, and evil, and everything you've done is a mistake." It sucks to see the people I've been fighting for agree with the people I've been fighting against, and shove me under the bus in an effort to appeal to the people running me over with it. Knowing that the bus is going to aim for them once it's done with me just makes it sadder, yknow?
@saint-speaks wasn't the first person to ever speak the word "transandrophobia", but he is the one who coined and popularized it in its current form. And then he was dragged through the mud so hard and so brutally that some people think I coined it, just because when I defended him (too little and too late, imo) I withstood the mud-dragging better than he did (and gee, I wonder white.)
And now people take for granted that everything everyone said about hymn to justify that frankly fucking evil harassment campaign was true, actually, and we should abandon the word he coined and find one with purer origins.
If you honestly think "anti-transmasculinity" is just a more practical word, that's fine. I don't care what word we use. But they're going to cover it in mud, too. They're going to cover every one of you in mud.
Will you keep fighting for "ATM" once they make it the new dirty, gross, bad, evil word? Will you keep fighting when they drag you and everyone else through the mud for using it? Or will you agree with them, make up a new word, and never look back?
Please don't let us drown in the mud. We've been fighting for you, and we want to fight with you. Please.
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exhaslo · 6 months ago
Text
Over-Time Ch7
(CEO!Miguel x Shy/Clumsy!Reader)
Ch1, Ch2, Ch3, Ch4,Ch5, Ch6
Warning: MINORS DNI, sexual thoughts, eventual smut, slow-burn, mentions of sex, bullying, cussing, fluff
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
The lobby was filled with loud chatter as the morning crew was heading out for lunch. The chatter soon came to a silence once the main doors opened. The loud clicking of heels took over the lobby as everyone remained focus on the individual who entered the building.
"A little birdy told me Lyla was on vacation." The person spoke, their lips curled into a smile.
"Yes, ma'am; however, Miguel already has a new secretary."
"So I've heard. I'll be heading up-"
"Sorry, but you can't. Miguel gave us strict orders to not allow you past the lobby. I'm sorry, but you must leave." The receptionist warned the woman.
"Tch, what a bother. Very well, I'll just have to bump into him or that little mouse."
As fast as the woman entered, she left. Soon, whispers filled the lobby as everyone assumed that you were in deep shit. No one but Lyla had survived that snake.
At least you lasted two weeks on your own.
---------
This was driving you crazy. Ever since that incident in the elevator, Miguel had been really handsy with you. The man oozed sex appeal and he was using every last drop of it to torment you. There had been times where you wanted to kiss him, but you couldn't.
He was your boss!
No matter how many times his hand stroked your cheek. No matter how long his hands stayed against yours. No matter how tender his grip was against your waist. No matter how close his sweet whispers were to your ear...
You couldn't.
Miguel was giving you so many mixed signals. His kind personality often confused you with his loving tone, but then...Miguel would get strict and push you away. He was so confusing and you just wanted answers. You wanted to know if it was okay for you to have these feelings for him.
"Sir, are you ready for your next appointment?" You asked, entering Miguel's office.
"I suppose. It's only going to be another fruitless venture of trying to get me to invest in a stupid plan. I don't suppose you have a way for me to avoid such troublesome idiots?" Miguel asked with a soft chuckle.
"Hm..." You pushed your lips forward as you thought, "You really shouldn't, but what if we pretended an emergency came up for your Fall Banquet?"
"Tempting."
Miguel approached you with a smile, his hand resting on your back as he led you out. You could melt against him if he let you.
"Oh, Miguel, you're tie."
You noticed his crooked tie and proceeded to fix it. As you did, you could feel your heart racing as Miguel stared at you. His hands resting against yours before bringing them to his lips. You could feel your heart in your throat.
"Aren't I lucky to have you, hm?" His voice was low.
"Ah-"
You squeaked as you tried to take a step back, but ended up tripping over your heel. You gasped as you nearly fell back, but Miguel had managed to catch you in time.
"S-Sorry-ah!" You whimpered as you tried to stand.
"Well now, I suppose this works too."
Gasping softly, you wrapped your arms around Miguel's neck as he picked you up. Your face was probably a million shades of red as he carried you out of the office.
"M-Miguel-Sir!"
"Now, now. Can't have my precious secretary injured on the job. Let me take you to first aid."
You whimpered only in protest, but proceeded to cover your face. This was embarrassing, but you couldn't help but smile. Miguel was far too good for a clumsy one like yourself.
--------
Miguel was impressed by his own self control. After almost kissing you in the elevator, Miguel had to hold back greatly. That still didn't stop him from touching you. Oh, how he wished for more. How he dreamt for more.
But this was enough.
Taking you to the first aid floor, Miguel was concerned for your ankle. He found you adorable whenever you would get clumsy. It wasn't like you did it on purpose, but it was so amusing. Sometimes Miguel wanted to get you riled up just so he can watch you.
A sadist sometimes, but that was just Miguel. As he stepped off the elevator, Miguel glanced down at you. Hard working as always. You were in the middle of sending an apology message to his greedy business partner for missing the meeting.
"There....hopefully they will understand." You whispered. Miguel nodded towards the nurse as he placed you down on a bed,
"Understanding or not, they have no choice. It's my business they want, so they have to wait."
"Dumb question...But where does Alchemax stand...in the business world?"
Miguel glanced up at your innocent gaze. No matter how many times you asked, Miguel loved how naïve you were. He loved the fact that you still had no care for his status as a CEO, or that of his business. You just came to do your job.
"On top of the world," Miguel hummed.
He took your heel off, chuckling towards your complaints. The nurse was busy doing other stuff, so Miguel had to take care of you. Who else would he trust with someone as precious as you?
"Ah-" You whimpered in pain as Miguel pressed against your ankle.
"Swollen, but not broken. My dear (Y/N), you must be more careful alone. Be clumsy when I'm around, alright?"
"I-I was," You stuttered in embarrassment.
Miguel resisted a chuckle as he started to massage your ankle. You could only whimper in pain as he did so. Listening to your little whimpers made Miguel's mind wander. He leaned closer to you, kissing your ankle.
"M-Mig-" You covered your mouth as your heard the nurse talk to another patient.
Miguel's gaze focused on your expression. How seductive you were as you covered your mouth while your face burned red. His kisses trailing up from your ankle to your inner thigh. It was hard for him to focus as you trembled against his touch.
Stroking his hand against your thigh, Miguel resisted a groan as he felt up your skirt ever so slightly. You laid back against the bed, closing your eyes as you withheld your whines.
Letting his dick do all the talking, Miguel climbed over you. His hands still against your thighs as he trailed his kisses against your neck this time. You moved your head to the side, shaking slightly.
"You're letting me be selfish again," Miguel whispered against your ear, "It's so hard...to hold back."
"I-I....I did....say that you could," You whimpered softly. Miguel groaned lowly,
"(Y/N)"
"Alright, next I believe I saw our CEO," The nurse spoke.
Miguel immediately got off you and sat beside the bed. He fixed his suit as the nurse opened the curtain, her head still glued to the clipboard. You quickly sat up, trying to cover your flustered expression.
"A-Actually....I may have...sprained my ankle," You said shyly.
"No worries. Let me take a look."
Miguel started to tune out as the nurse took care of you. His attention was focused on your lips. You didn't care about his status or anything, but yet you let him have his way with you. It was a no brainer that you liked him.
Hell, Miguel was falling hard for you, but even he knew that this was wrong. Miguel was taking advantage of you. He needed to stop, but at the same time, he wanted you. Miguel could see you at his side as a partner and maybe even a wife.
"Let me get an ice pack, I'll be right back." The nurse spoke before leaving.
"(Y/N), be my date for the Fall Banquet." Miguel spoke calmly, as if he wasn't about to fuck you a second ago.
"Huh? Are you sure?" You questioned. Miguel just smiled,
"No doubt in my mind would I love to have you by my side."
--------
Oh, his words were making you melt. How could you not share feelings with this god of a man. Perchance, this would be a good opportunity to try and kiss him? Miguel was no stranger to sharing his desires...maybe you should be brave and do so too?
"I-I would love too, then." You chirped. Miguel stood and kissed your hand,
"Then I believe we should start dress shopping. Can't have my date being outshined by anyone else."
"You...You don't have too!" Miguel was making your heart race again.
"I'm a selfish man, you know this by now. Don't you want my eyes only on you?"
Your eyes widen as you looked into Miguel's gaze. Your breathing shuddered as you bit your lower lip.
"Yes."
"Then it's settled. We shall go dress shopping as soon as your ankle heals."
"Hehe, thank you sir."
---------
"If Miguel won't see me, then I'll have to approach him. No one deserves the Fall Crown but me."
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
Hehe, slow burn gonna eat ya'll alive.
Gonna be on a one month hiatus outta state! See you all soon!
Next Chapter
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erodasfishtacos · 7 months ago
Text
Boredom & Blind Dates [pt I]
summary: yn is a good friend, who's willing to go on a blind date so that her friend can try to pull the man of her dreams. the new bigshot doctor at the hospital she's works. the dinner isnt as charming as she hoped
word count: 5k
warnings: angst
author's note: hii! this was based off a request. the rest will be posted on patreon and there’s already another part up :)
You can subscribe for $3 USD a month here
+
Victoria was a friend that YN had made in college when they were both studying completely opposite majors but happened to be roomed in the same two-bed dorm.
They clicked instantly and just like their majors, they were also exact opposite in their personalities too but it somehow just meshed perfectly together.
Victoria was a social butterfly who did not have a fear of being the center of attention, going after whoever she wanted (and typically pulling them), and her confidence was impressive.
Despite how smart Victoria was, she had a tendency to come off a bit ditzy, and has been called an air-head more than twice in YN’s presence.
The boys in more prestigious majors like law and medicine usually didn’t find her carefree attitude as appealing.
While Tori snagged the frat boys, YN steered clear of them which worked because they had never once had a crush on the same man.
After graduation, it only made sense to move in together because Seattle was a ridiculously overpriced city but their job wages were competitive.
Victoria was a nurse, she worked on a surgery recovery wing, and complained about her job constantly because of the crabby patients and long hours.
YN worked behind a desk all day, very rarely having to interact with anyone but if she did - it was all virtual from home.
She was the head accountant for a social media marketing company which was a pretty high position for the few years of experience she had.
YN had always been serious, more mature for her age, and always excelled above everyone else in her grade.
It hadn’t been a surprise when she was valedictorian or made summa cum laude in her undergraduate and masters degree with ease.
YN didn’t party, didn’t love socializing out in clubs but would go when Victoria pressured her enough to do so, and it was fine.
YN had been so involved in establishing her career, creating a successful life, and making a name for herself that she didn’t have time for the things Victoria did.
Dating app hookups, one night stands from the bar, and casual flings that only lasted a few weeks was how Tori rolled.
Typically, at least once a month, she was bawling to YN about the latest dickhead who treated her like she was disposable but kept going for the same type.
YN had empathy to an extent, always uncorked the wine and half-listened to her rants about chivalry being dead while she was still thinking about an account she needed to work on because the deadline was coming up.
YN liked to think she lived vicariously through Victoria’s stories which worked for her because then she didn’t have to experience those things herself.
+
YN had been sitting on the couch, laptop balanced on the wide arm as she scrolled through work emails while catching up on her guilty pleasure reality show.
It was nearly ten at night but she was waiting for a reply from a customer with a time difference, work could sometimes be a whole day and night ordeal.
There was no question that YN was uptight, rarely - if ever relaxed, and did not have much time for anything other than what put a hefty sum in her bank account every two weeks.
Victoria tumbled through the front door in a way that is uniquely her - like a hurricane.
Her keys jingling, her water bottle bumping and sloshing water as she drops her purse on the floor unceremoniously with a chapstick rolling out.
She tosses all of her items in a messy pile on the ground with her bag, kicking off her tennis shoes, and nearly prances into the living room.
YN blinks over at her, the excitement of her arrival was a routine now, she no longer gets annoyed that her best friend makes an entrance like that each time.
“Babe, guess what,” Victoria squeals as she sits down right next to her on the couch, still in her magenta colored scrubs and her mascara smudged near her eyes.
“What?” YN replies as she mindlessly clicks refresh in her email, wishing for this message with the information she needs to appear.
“Our new Chief of Medicine started today! He was the head of neurology at another hospital. A literal brain surgeon which, of course I’ve met others but he’s like…the best of the best. They write news articles about him, his studies in medical journals, he’s a big deal,” Victoria is still excited as she nearly bounces in her spot, shaking YN’s laptop.
YN puts a hand up to make sure her computer doesn’t topple, still nonplussed as she looks at her friend, “What does this have to do with you? Is it just because he’s famous in the medical world?”
“No, he’s fucking gorgeous too. I didn’t think you were allowed to be as smart as he is while looking like he just walked off a runway during Paris Fashion Week,” Tori giggles as her cheeks go a bit pink, “He’s the hottest doctor I’ve ever seen.”
“Tori,” YN sighs, clicking her refresh again - nothing, “Again, what is this information leading to?”
“Well I bumped into him today, literally, in the hallway. We spoke briefly, he was polite but serious, and I felt like he was flirting with me. I feel like I have a chance with him,” Her roommate tells her, that same confidence present as ever that she can pull this big shot doctor.
“Good luck with that. I’m sure he’s married with kids,” YN replies somewhat dismissively, unamused that this is how her friend spends her time.
“Nope,” Tori quips back happily, “I googled him. He just made the New York Times list as one of the most eligible bachelors in medicine. Single as they come.”
“I thought you didn’t want to date someone who also worked in medicine,” YN reminds her, clicking refresh once again to no results.
“He’s the exception. If I could settle down with a fuckin neurosurgeon, chief medical officer like come on that would be my biggest achievement,” Victoria pulls out her cell phone, tapping across the screen.
And YN just…cannot relate.
YN only fell in love once.
Where she could fantasize about a life with that person, marriage, kids, a house but it was all fantasy as they were never official in that way.
It was crushed and YN made a promise to herself that she wouldn’t let herself dream like that again.
“Do you want to see a picture?” Victoria asks as she looks for an image to show.
As a stroke of luck, YN’s work phone starts buzzing, and it’s the client she was waiting for to email her, “I’m sure he’s as attractive as you say, Tor. I have to take this.”
Her friend mumbles something about her being in a relationship with work which is honestly not that far off at this point.
However, it gives her an excuse to lock herself in her office for a few hours to avoid the ideas of love, Victoria’s fantasy world, and think about nothing but numbers and percentages.
+
The next few weeks blend together for YN.
Every few days she actually catches up on her work.
Every few days Victoria recounts her very purposefully crafted run-ins with the chief medical officer to shoot her shot.
Victoria has always been forward, asking bluntly for what she wants but with such a seemingly intimidating man, she finally has met her match.
Her roommate deems the doctor as ‘playing hard to get’ but YN starts to wonder if she’s imagining the spark between them or if it’s truly there.
She talks about times where the doctor flat out ignores her in the hallway but brushes it off that he was extremely busy on a pressing issue.
But then there are times where he will pull her aside, gently by the wrist and ask her about how her day was going, and appear to be interested in her answers.
YN loved her friend but was wildly uninterested in these events, the only thing that kept her curiosity lingering was if she was actually going to snag the head of the biggest hospital in Seattle.
She doesn’t hear much for a week or two.
At least three months have passed since the doctor started.
And this finally appears to be a payoff when Victoria comes home with her usual hurricane routine of leaving a trail of her belongings as she comes through the front door.
“Oh my god, oh my god. Close your laptop and look at me!” Victoria announces dramatically as she rushes over to the couch, taking it upon herself to close the lid of YN’s work computer.
“Tori,” YN scolds with a grumble, she really didn’t appreciate it when her friend interrupted her work flow in the middle of her meticulously constructing a report.
“Hush,” She replies, brushing off her concerns, and patting YN’s thighs, “I need the absolute biggest, most massive favor from you ever. And I really need you to agree, I’ll owe you for eternity.”
This didn’t sound good.
YN blinks at her, expression still unamused as ever.
“Okay. I am going on a date with the chief,” Victoria squeals, high-pitched and loud, “But it’s a double-date, he was telling me he’s looking for a date for his friend. I offered you and he invited us all to dinner at The National.”
Fancy.
And YN tries to settle the itching annoyance at her friend offering her up without her approval but unfortunately it was a very Victoria-like thing to do.
Despite how uptight YN could be, she had a soft spot for her friend and would do anything within her to make her happy so instead of lecturing her about setting her up, YN agrees.
YN thinks about it as the days pass until the date, what’s stopping her from actually giving this a try?
The only information she received about her blind date was that he was also a doctor, orthopedics, and his name was Mitch.
YN dresses nicer than she had originally planned, in a form fitting black dress that shaped her chest phenomenally, making her smaller tits look full and lifted.
It also defined her backside well too, making it rounded and voluminous in a way that it normally didn’t look in her regular outfits.
YN hadn’t been with anyone in over a year, not even a casual hookup because she didn’t do those - she did commitment.
Maybe Mitch would be the one.
YN wasn’t one for magical thinking like her best friend but maybe this is what optimism was supposed to be like as opposed to her normal pessimist outlook.
Victoria dressed stunning as well, albeit a bit more revealing which was her go to, cut-outs along her ribs and the hem was nearly to her bum cheeks so she couldn’t bend over without revealing all of her bits and pieces.
YN was sure that the doctor she was pining after would take her home with her that night but she also knows Victoria is possibly looking at this to become serious.
It was all up in the air.
The National was a quiet restaurant, where business meetings were held and deals were made.
Everyone dressed in expensive outfits that made YN and Victoria’s seem a bit out of place but they blended in well enough.
Neither have been to the location before because it was reservation-only and you had to have enough of a name in Seattle to bother calling.
The fact that the chief was able to get them a table, at relatively short notice was flex in itself, showing off what clout he held in the community.
YN wasn’t impressed, per se, felt like it was a bit-show off but nevertheless it was a nice experience that she’d never likely have again after this night.
Victoria gives the hostess their name before they’re being guided towards the back of the restaurant, it lit dimly enough that it would be hard to see the menu.
As they arrive at the table, there’s two meticulous dressed men sit across from one another, both handsome in different ways.
However, one has a big smile and stands up whilst the other stays seated with a scowl that seems permanently etched on his face - light wrinkles to show for it.
The man who stands up reaches for YN’s hand, kissing the back of it, and introducing himself, “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’ve been looking forward to it all week, darling. I’m Mitch.”
“YN,” She replies even though he already knows, allowing the kiss and giving him a polite smile back as he pulls out her chair for her.
Victoria walks around the table, somewhat awkward as her date doesn’t get up or offer to move her chair out, only a curt, “Hello, Victoria. You look nice.”
“Thanks,” Tori blushes easily, YN has to refrain from rolling her eyes at the interaction, she always fell for the rudest, douchey men on Earth.
This doctor was no different as he says back in his chair, shoulders broad, and back straight, head held high as he watches Mitch help YN in her seat.
“Thank you,” YN brushes her fingers against Mitch’s shoulder as he sits down, making eye contact with her date once again.
He had these sincere brown eyes, a shy smile, and his long hair was pulled back into a ponytail as he nods at her.
Mitch wasn’t her type, though she wasn’t picky, and was willing to give anyone a chance - he just wouldn’t be someone she would pick herself.
Maybe that’s a good thing.
“What’s good here?” YN asks Mitch as she opens her menu, it was a small list of entrees, most that YN had only seen on cooking shows or never even heard of.
“I haven’t been here. Styles here is a regular but that’s because he’s the big name ‘round here, well according to London Times - everywhere,” Mitch teases as he glances up at his friend.
Styles doesn’t even lift his lip in a half-smile, his eyes dart to YN before his friend, “The Steelhead Trout is good as is the Filet Migon.”
YN’s eyes trace back over the menu, heart seizing a bit as the numbers next to the entree - realizing that was the price was a bit of shell shock.
She knew that Mitch would pay for her but she felt guilty about ordering something that was well over a hundred and fifty dollars when she would never pay that for dinner herself.
“I think I’ll just get the thai salmon,” YN replies as she glances over, it was the cheapest option, not by much but still.
“There’s peanuts in the sauce,” The doctor tells her as he glances up from his own menu to look at YN.
YN brow furrows at him, lips turning down, and about to say something when he adds, “Victoria informed me that you have a severe peanut allergy and to choose a restaurant that could prepare your food properly.”
YN blinks to process before looking over to Victoria, “Thanks, Tor.”
“I’d rather not see freshman year thanksgiving happen again,” Victoria jokes but there is some real concern there from such a traumatic incident.
YN had accidentally come into contact with some type of nut that sent her into an anaphylactic shock.
They couldn’t find her epipen for a good two minutes until they did and were able to administer her medication until she could make it to the hospital.
Victoria had anxiety about food in their house for ages, paranoid about her own contact with the allergen, and always made sure everyone was aware of YN’s condition.
“I’ll get the filet then,” YN sighs, giving up on picking a cheap option as she closes her menu, and the waiter pours a red wine into her glass.
YN was not in the mood to drink, preferring to sip on her water instead as Victoria and Mitch emptied their first glass quickly.
Victoria’s date sipped more sophisticatedly on his, swirling it like a proper snob before taking a minuscule sip as if he was savoring it.
Mitch seemed very interested in YN, asking multiple questions about her work and personal life, he put an arm around the back of her chair which YN didn’t necessarily mind as they spoke.
From what YN could see, Victoria was not having as much luck with her date as their conversation appeared strained, her friend was doing ninety percent of the talking, and Harry was nodding with an expression of boredom.
After the soup and salads arrive, Mitch and Harry start to chat about something going on with the hospital protocols.
Victoria tries to add in, he doesn’t acknowledge her but Mitch does instead after an uncomfortable pause of silence between them.
YN stays quiet, unable to add anything, and after a moment, Mitch huffs out a laugh, “Enough work talk, we’re excluding YN.”
Harry raises his eyebrow at her, “Need to be the center of attention?”
“Hey,” Mitch frowns, rubbing at YN’s shoulder, “I didn’t mean for it to sound like that. I’m sorry if I just-“
“You’re fine,” YN waves her hand dismissively, giving her friend’s date a displeased glance that Harry returns the scowl just like he’d been doing all night.
Victoria is oblivious, as she tends to be, and is much too focused on keeping her date’s attention to worry about anything else.
“What do you do for work?” Harry asks her, randomly cutting off a story that Victoria was telling about a patient that eloped recently.
“I’m a head accountant for a social media marketing company. What about you?” YN returns the question with sickeningly sweet politeness.
She felt like Harry was a pompous prick, taking pride in his rankings, education, and had a better than attitude that YN really felt was unappealing.
To act like she didn’t know shit about him was the perfect way to irritate him apparently.
It works.
The way his teeth clench together as the wrinkle between his brow deepens further, he straightens his suit jacket before leaning forward to appear casual.
“I’m the Chief Medical Officer of The Hospital of Seattle, a neurosurgeon specializing in spinal cord injury as well as stroke and trauma, I own three outpatient medical practices, as well as instruct other neurosurgeons on new techniques and equipment,” Harry boasts, to be fair, it was extremely impressive.
There was no doubt that the man sitting across from her was extremely intelligent, she’s probably never been around anyone as smart as him but it didn’t excuse his attitude.
You can be intelligent and humble at the same time.
Apparently Doctor Styles did not get the memo.
“That’s nice,” YN replies as she takes a very small sip of wine, even though she was impressed, it didn’t reflect in her bored tone.
Harry scoffs, sitting back, and licking the front of his teeth.
His eyebrow was raised as he repeated in disbelief, “That’s nice? Nothing else, huh?”
Victoria’s eyes dart nervously between the two, she grips Harry’s bicep, “I think it’s the most impressive thing I’ve heard. Not to mention the medical journals you wrote for or the volunteer work.”
YN tucks her bottom lip between her teeth, tampering down a smile at getting a reaction out of her friend’s date, just as she had hoped.
“S’really not as impressive when the person needs to flaunt their accomplishments so extravagantly,” YN shrugs as she puts down her wine glass, nonchalant as ever, and acting as if she was being casual.
Tori delivers a kick to her shin underneath the table, along with a scolding look for her to drop the attitude with Harry because it was ruining their date.
YN pulls back because she did feel guilty at getting into it with this doctor who Tori was trying to pull and she wasn’t increasing the chances with the snide comments.
Harry is about to respond, his ringed fingers clenched on the table, and there were tattoos peeking out from the cuffs of his suit that were very undoctorlike, “You know what I think-?”
“Uhm,” Mitch coughs awkwardly to break up the tension that was getting thick and cloying between everyone at the table, “Victoria, where did you get your nursing degree from?”
The conversation breaks off, Victoria and Mitch start chatting as YN and Harry remain pretty much silent throughout the appetizers.
Victoria is forward, trying to touch her date when possible.
A brush of his hand here, a squeeze of his bulky bicep there.
Though Harry doesn’t shrug her off, he also doesn’t return the favor at all.
He is nearly statuesque, unmoving, and able to sit very still for long amounts of time.
Of course, maybe that is overly obvious because of how all over the place her friend was at all times, unable to sit still for more than a few minutes without needing to adjust the way she’s sitting or fiddle with something on the table.
YN wonders if this whole thing was set up for Mitch and Harry just settled for being on a date with Victoria to help his friend out.
The thought hurt her to think about because she wanted better for her friend.
YN enjoyed having a job that paid her well, more than most people her age were making but it didn’t define who she was.
Doctor Styles seemed to be his entire job as his personality.
How boring.
When Harry manages to get the topic back onto a work issue, YN cannot help but let out a yawn that she very half-heartedly tries to cover with her hand because she could only hear so much about a spinal surgery before she’s zoning out.
Victoria is hanging onto his every word, asking questions, and being overly interested in a lackluster story in his monotone, deep voice that could honestly lull her to sleep because of how bleak and morbid he sounded.
However, when she yawns, no one at the table notices but Harry.
His eyes have darted over to her a few times while he’s been talking, almost to gauge her level of interest, and when she yawns, he visibly huffs before continuing - his words a bit more harsh and a flutter of annoyance twisting into his cadence.
YN had neglected her date during this whole time, in full honesty.
Victoria and Mitch seemed to have a great conversation.
When YN talked to Mitch, he was nice enough and easy to have a conversation with but his boss across the table was distracting and apparently felt the need to constantly be the center of attention even though that’s what he called YN out for. 
It’s rude, YN knows it is when she excuses herself to the bathroom mid-story, placing her napkin on the table before swinging her purse over her shoulder, and navigating into the dimly-lit restaurant towards the back.
YN goes into one of the many stalls, a larger bathroom, and sits down.
She didn’t have to go to the bathroom but she had just needed a break because…
What the fuck.
What the actual fuck?
YN would be crawling out the bathroom window if Victoria wasn’t with her.
YN hears the door open and she just knows it’s Victoria.
She is definitely going to give YN a piece of her mind for her attitude at the table and she really can’t blame her because she was not being on her best behavior admittedly.
When YN pushes open the stall, already starting her speech, “Tor, I know you’re probably pissed but -”
However, YN stops mid-setence when she sees that it was not Victoria standing across from her.
No, instead it was Harry, leaning back against the sinks with his arms crossed and a scowl worse than anything that he had displayed at the table across his face.
“Already dating again?” He asks unhappily, the slight crack of his deep drawl gives away the jealously laying behind those words, “That’s pretty fuckin’ rich, innit?”
“Don’t you dare,” YN hisses back, defensive and straightening up, “You don’t have any room to talk.”
“I have plenty,” Harry grits out, his gaze unwavering, his hand twitching like he wants to reach out, “You fucked everything up, not me.”
The awful thing is that YN wants him too.
“That’s not true,” YN murmurs softer, trying to keep the feisty edge in her voice but struggling.
The emotions that she was attempting to hold in at the table were much harder to bottle up when they were standing face-to-face like this.
“You like Mitch?” Harry ignores her rebuttal, his knuckles were white where they were gripping the kitchen sink, “Think he’s nice? Boyfriend material?”
“It’s none of your fucking business,” YN snaps back, finding her bravado a bit more.
“Come here,” Harry orders, voice quiet but sharp, demanding, and it sends a chill down her spine.
“Harry-” YN begins to argue but finds herself walking forward, her heart pounding hard enough that it hurts and her hands were shaking as she clung the strap of her purse as a lifeline as her heels clicked against the tile.
“C’mon, dove,” His voice is sweeter, more goading until she’s close enough to touch.
Her lips parted in nerves, excitement, dread.
His hand reaches out to curl around the nape of her neck, fingers lightly pressing into the sides of her throat and though it was gentle, it was possessive - rooted in the jealousy of what was going on tonight with their dates.
Harry brings her towards him by the hold he has on her, until her hands are laid on his chest, and he’s leaning down as he tilts her head up.
He brushes their lips together, once, twice, and on the third time, YN pulls back and takes a few steps away from him.
“You can’t just do that,” YN huffs, grabbing a tissue from the counter and dabbing at the corners of her eyes to prevent the tears from falling and ruining her makeup, “I’m on a date. You’re on a date. It isn’t fair to either of them.”
Harry laughs unhappily, shaking his head as pushes away from the sink, heading towards the door but before he leaves, he bites back, “I don’t think you have room to be talking about fair. You obviously don’t fuckin’ understand the concept of it. Pull yourself together before you come back out.”
YN knows it immature, proves his point but gives him the middle finger before going back to dabbing at her eyes - fuck, she wishes she didn’t cry around him.
She wondered if it was worth sneaking out the window and facing the wrath of her friend later.
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ahhhhhhh.
let me know your thoughts. this was difficult to write but im glad it turned out how i wanted it too! what do you predict?
😙😙😙
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babyleostuff · 9 months ago
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PHOTOGRAPH | JEON WONWOO
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based on "photograph" by Ed Sheeran
SYNOPSIS | Wonwoo knew dating as an idol would be almost impossible, yet he was ready to take the risk. Unfortunately, you were the definition of "right person, wrong time". PAIRING | idol!wonwoo x fem!reader GENRE | angst WORD COUNT| 2.8k
natalia's note | this is wonwoo's pov from this fic, though it can be read as a stand alone
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Wonwoo never cared about relationships - he thought goodmorning texts were overrated, planning dates seemed too tiresome, and he didn’t see the appeal of letting someone else wear his hoodies and sweaters. Besides, he was too busy with work and it was hard to focus on anything else than the neverending schedules. He couldn’t remember the last time he got more than five hours of sleep. 
At least that’s what he kept telling himself.
Dating in the industry was hell on earth, he knew that. Wonwoo had witnessed careers end and lifes get destroyed just because people fell in love. So, he made a promise to himself that that would never happen to him - he wouldn’t allow himself to fall for anyone, and spare himself the trouble of a broken heart and a ruined career. He didn’t care that he had no one to cuddle at night, no one to hug, no one to kiss, no one to call during tour. 
And then you came, and changed his entire world. You became his everything, his little ray of sunshine - you were the first person he looked for in the crowd during their concerts, the first person he ran to on the backstage, the first person he called after they won an award. For the first time in his life he felt complete. 
“I’m sorry. It wouldn’t have worked out either way.”
He didn't even want to imagine the look on your face when he said it. Through the fucking phone. 
Wonwoo was on the verge of throwing up, but he knew that if he didn’t end it now, he’d never do it. He spent the last week crying before falling asleep from exhaustion in the night, and quickly wiping the tears that rolled down his cheeks during the day - he knew what he had to do, or both of your lives would get destroyed, and that’s something he’d never be able to live with. 
“Wonwoo, can I talk to you?” He didn’t know what to expect when their manager approached him in the middle of their rehearsal, but he definitely didn’t expect to hear that he had to break up with you, or his work and your safety would be on the line.
Wonwoo pulled the phone back from his ear, and with a shaky finger pressed the red button. 
That would be the last time he’d ever talk to you. 
We keep this love in a photograph We made these memories for ourselves Where our eyes are never closing Hearts are never broken And time's forever frozen still
Wonwoo didn’t bother with picking up his suitcase from the trunk, he knew Mingyu would pick it up for him. It generally seemed that he couldn’t be bothered with anything other than drinking himself into oblivion and crying until he passed out from exhaustion ever since he broke up with you. All of that just so he'd try to erase every possible memory he had of you together. 
With heavy shoulders, and a headache, Wonwoo shut the door to his room behind him, enveloping himself in the darkness. Usually, you’d already be there, dressed in one of his hoodies, lying on his side of the bed because you fell asleep while waiting for him. He’d tuck you in, making sure you were warm and comfortable, before he’d take a quick shower and unpack some of his stuff, so he wouldn’t have to worry about it in the morning. 
The absence of you in his bed didn't hurt as much as what he saw on his bookshelves and desk, though - countless photos of you from trips, nights spent together in your apartment, photos from parties with the guys and their girlfriends, and pictures he took especially with you in mind. 
His favourite one had to be the one from Japan, when you and the rest of the seventeen girlfriends flew out to Tokyo and surprised them after they won the daesang. You were all huddled on the floor of the hotel room, trying to fit in the picture, as all of you had your arms wrapped around each other, smiles on your faces. Wonwoo could practically hear your laughter, as DK almost knocked the table down, because Seungkwan pushed him to be sure he’d be in the frame. 
“Move your ass, I want to be in the picture!” Seungwan yelled, digging his elbow into Seokmin's stomach. 
“You are, you idiot. Can’t you see that half of your face is in the frame? Stop hitting me!” DK yelled back, pushing Seungwan in return. 
Neither of you knew what was ahead of you at the time, and Wonwoo couldn’t stand the look of love in your eyes, he couldn’t stand the way he was shamelessly staring at you with nothing but adoration, like none of the other twenty people in the picture existed. 
“Fuck!” Wonwoo yelled, slamming the photo against the floor, breaking the glass. 
“Wonwoo, are you okay?” Mingyu knocked on his door a second later, making him wonder how long his friend had been standing there. “Just leave me alone,” Wonwoo said, his voice breaking, as the first tears started falling. He was surprised he was still able to cry, considering how much he was doing that for the past few days. 
“Leave me… alone.” 
So you can keep me Inside the pocket of your ripped jeans Holding me closer 'til our eyes meet You won't ever be alone
“I miss you.” 
Wonwoo couldn’t see your face, but he knew you were pouting. He giggled to himself, and nuzzled his face further into the pillow like a lovesick teenager, smashing his glasses against his face in the process.
“I miss you too, baby,” he said, picking up his phone from the bed, as if it would make him feel any closer to you. “But I’ll be home in a week.” A week too long. 
He could hear you sigh angrily, as you started your usual rant about why overseas schedules shouldn’t be longer than five days, giving him a recap of the list you have written down in your notes app. “You can laugh as much as you want, Jeon Wonwoo, but I’m suffering here.” 
There was nothing else for him but to laugh at your sulking tone, he loved how you didn’t have any limits when it came to him and dissing his schedules. “Do you have the book I gave you before I left?” Wonwoo asked, and immediately heard some shuffling, as if you were getting up from the bed. 
“Of course, but I’m not in the mood for reading,” you sighed. To be honest, you were rarely in the mood for reading - you preferred being read to. Specifically by Wonwoo. Definitely not because you were addicted to his deep and velvety voice, at least that's what you were telling him. 
Wonwoo knew better. 
“Go get it and open it,” Wonwoo said with a soft smile on his lips, laughing when he heard your annoyed groan.
He waited patiently for you to find the book and discover a photo booth picture you thought you had lost a while ago. You took it on one of your first dates, and Wonwoo knew how much you loved that photo, so he was over the moon when he found it laying under the bookshelf when he was cleaning your room. 
“How? What? Wonwoo?” you gasped, and he couldn’t help but laugh at your surprised reaction. 
“I found it some time ago, but forgot to tell you.”
He heard you sigh quietly, and from what he could judge it wasn’t a happy sigh. “Now I feel even more alone.” 
“Baby,” Wonwoo murmured, his tone matching your sad one. “We only have a week left, you won’t even notice when I’ll be back.” 
“You promise?” 
“I promise.” 
And if you hurt me That's okay, baby, only words bleed Inside these pages, you just hold me And I won't ever let you go
“You said you’d be home!” 
This wasn’t how the evening was supposed to go, not at all. You had been planning this date for a while now - it wasn’t anything big, just a homemade dinner and a movie, but any moment spent together was special for you, so it didn’t really matter what you did. And what could be better than to prepare a nice meal together and then eat it cuddled under fluffy blankets, while watching a bad movie you could both make fun of. 
If only Wonwoo’s practice didn’t run late. 
“I’m sorry, but I told you my phone ran out of battery," he said, pointing at his dead phone helplessly. “And we really were busy, baby. You know how the comeback season is,” he sighed, and ran a hand through his hair, tugging at the ends. 
“I know, but if you really cared about me you’d make sure to at least text me. I was waiting for four hours Wonwoo, it’s literally 1 am!” You said, your tone getting angrier and angrier. 
Wonwoo understood why you were angry, he wasn't surprised, but he thought that maybe you would be a little more understanding. On the other hand, he knew how much you were looking forward to this date, he was waiting for it himself, and the fact that he didn't even text you certainly didn't make the situation better. 
“Sweetheart, please,” he tried reaching for your hand, but the second his fingers touched yours you pulled away. 
“You're a bad boyfriend Wonwoo, you ditched me like I was nothing.” 
Your voice was full of venom and Wonwoo couldn't help the slight pain he felt in his chest. Your words when you were angry always hurt him like hell, but he didn't expect to hear something like that. He knew you didn't mean it, of course you didn't - you were angry, tired, hungry, and Wonwoo knew it was pointless to blame you for your words. He loved you too much to do it. 
But before he could say anything, he felt your arms around his neck. 
“I’m so sorry, Wonwoo. I didn’t mean it, I’m so stupid,” you mumbled into his neck. “I love you, I’m sorry,” you kept repeating. 
“Hey, it’s okay,” he ran his hand over your arm, cradling the back of your head with the other. “We both messed up a bit, but it’s okay, baby.” 
“I'm just afraid that one day I'll say something stupid enough to make you leave me,” you whispered, as if you were afraid that if you said it a little louder, your words would become true.
"Just hold me, baby, and I promise I'll never let you go."
Now Wonwoo would give anything to hear even the worst insults about him from you. He tilted the glass to his mouth, which turned out to be empty - just like the whiskey bottle he had taken from Mingyu, not that the younger minded. Or maybe he did, but Wonwoo didn't care much. He snorted and put the empty glass on the night table, from which he took a photo framed in a black frame instead.
Your faces were covered with a white face masks and your heads were adorned with pink cat headbands, and even though you were definitely too close to the camera, to the point where the photo was blurry and unclear, Wonwoo could still see your wide smile perfectly. 
It was from the date Wonwoo surprised you with a few days after your failed one. It was one of the best nights of his life.
Oh, you can fit me Inside the necklace you got when you were sixteen Next to your heartbeat where I should be Keep it deep within your soul
“You know my ex boyfriend got me this, right?” You raised an eyebrow at him, looking at him sceptically.
“Baby, you were sixteen then,” Wonwoo flicked your nose. "I will not be jealous of your great love at the age of sixteen."
You muttered something under your breath, frowning at him adorably. “If you want, I can buy you a new one,” he said, pointing to your necklace.
“No,” you muttered, not looking at him. Cute. "I like it."
"Exactly, so stop whining and let me put the picture in," he couldn't help but smile as he looked at the photo of himself in your necklace, resting right above your heart.
“You picked out the worst picture of me there is, I hate you,” you groaned, hitting your head against his chest.
“Well, I love it, and that’s what matters. Now,” Wonwoo grabbed your hand, kissing your knuckles. "I’ll always be with you."
When I'm away, I will remember how you kissed me Under the lamppost back on Sixth street Hearing you whisper through the phone "Wait for me to come home"
Wonwoo looked around his bedroom with droopy eyes (was it from crying, alcohol or tiredness he didn't know), which less than three weeks ago was full of life - full of you. 
The knowledge that he would never see you again weighed on him like a stone on his heart, but even so - Wonwoo didn’t want to forget you, no matter how much it hurt. He wasn't even sure he could even if he wanted to, you were present in every corner of this room - your pillow still smelled of your perfume, there were your skincare products on his desk, which you never kept in the bathroom for some reason, and your sweater was still lying on the back of the chair in the corner because you were too lazy to put it in the wardrobe. 
Wonwoo grabbed his phone with a trembling hand, its screen lighting up and displaying a wallpaper with a photo of you that he took right before he left for the tour. You were in bed, your hair messy and dishevelled, your eyes still closed and your lips in a sweet pout - you didn't even know he took the photo, but Wonwoo couldn't help himself. 
"Won, you said you'd wake me up," you mumbled, your voice muffled by the pillow and duvet that covered almost your entire head.
“But you're not sleeping,” he said quietly with a smile, brushing strands of hair from your face.
You murmured something, pulling the covers over your head. Wonwoo couldn't help but laugh at your silly antics - he loved how clingy you got whenever he had to leave early in the mornings, you were like a cuddly teddy bear that wanted all the hugs in the world. “You know what I mean. I wanted to help you get ready to leave,” you complained from under the covers.
"I love you, baby, and I love it when you help me, but right now I'd much rather have you get some sleep."
“But I'm going to miss you,” you groaned, poking your head out from under the covers.
“It's only a week and a half,” he said and kissed your forehead gently.
Unconsciously, Wonwoo raised his fingers to his lips. Was that really your last kiss?
"Fuck," he cursed under his breath, running a hand over his face. There was one more thing he had left of you - your voicemails. With a shaky finger he pressed on the last voicemail you sent him, a day before he broke up with you. The second he heard your voice it was like he magically sobered up - his mind was clear as day, and it immediately took him back in time to when the only thing he looked forward to was coming home to you. 
"Hi baby, I know you’re sleeping already, but I just wanted to record a little message, so you have something nice to wake up to. These first few days apart are so hard, I really miss you, especially at night. I got so used to our little bedtime routine that the house feels so quiet and empty without you, like something is missing, you know? You’re going to call me a hypocrite, but you know what else I’m missing right now? The light from your computer when you game late at night and I can’t sleep because of it. Or how I have to beg for you to come to bed for at least two hours, before you finally do. (laugh). I really do miss your bed hair, though. Now with them being so long too, you look so cute. (laugh)."
"But you know, last night, and don’t make fun of me, but I had to put on your hoodie to sleep because I missed your smell, I thought about the first time you left for tour since we got together. I remember how you walked me home after our date because it was late, and you were so adorably awkward. You still are. Anyways, we stood under that lamppost right by my house, and we were talking for a bit, and I remember how sad I was that you had to leave. I know you were too but didn’t want to show it, my strong baby. And then you kissed me. (pause) I will always remember how you kissed me under that lamppost. And how you said “wait for me to come home”. "
"I’ll always wait for you, Wonwoo. No matter what."
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chronicbeans · 10 months ago
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Nurse's Office
Needed to write a platonic Alastor x Nurse Reader Angst fic after I saw that fight between him and Adam like holy hell.
TW: Injuries and Blood, Medical Tools/Procedures, Anxiety/Slight Panic, Spiraling Mental Health
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So... When you got started at the Hazbin Hotel, you didn't expect to be a nurse there. Sure, you have the skills, but you usually don't have a nurse working a hotel. Now, though, you completely understand why they'd want to hire you for that, and not the room service position you applied for. Over the little time you've been here, you've seen more injuries that you could've ever imagined at a single hotel, with so few guests.
After the fight with the angels, though? You have been working on overdrive. You've had to patch everyone up, and you can't even find Alastor. You keep doing a head count after every person you treat, seeing if you can find him, but he doesn't show up. Your anxiety only gets worse once you check on Vaggie, the last person you had to help, and he still didn't make an appearance.
You don't want to assume the worst, though, so you grab some medical supplies, put them into a bag, then head out into the debris. He has to be somewhere. Even if he's not alive, he still deserves to be found. He also couldn't have gotten far! Yeah, he kind of... disappeared at one point...? You didn't get a good look, but he did disappear from your sight. But you don't suspect he'd have went far from the hotel while injured. Just far enough to be safe. That's what you hope, at least...
You continue wandering around for a few hours, your legs feeling exhausted after a while. Climbing over all the rubble, breathing in some of the settling dust, and straining your eyes to see up ahead is tiring... that, and you keep scraping your hands and knees on the sharp rocks and broken concrete. The most disheartening part, though, is that you still haven't seen him... Then, you spot it.
A tiny little splatter of blood.
Then, another splatter nearby...
And another...
Yes, a trail! You don't know who it's going to lead to, but you can see some lights in the distance. It at least leads somewhere. You quickly begin to follow it, seeing the red light get brighter and brighter. The radio tower comes into view. You know that it has to be Alastor, at this point. Why hadn't you thought of it sooner? You climb down the rubble, beginning to make your way over to the ruined tower ahead of you.
As you get close to the bottom hatch, you hear some footsteps against the floor. Immediately, you knock on the hatch, making your presence known. "Alastor! It's (Y/N)! I'm coming in there! If you're on the door, you better get off. Don't even try to stop me from getting in, either, because I'll climb through one of the windows if I have to." You pause, hearing the footsteps stop for a moment. After a few seconds, you crawl into the radio tower.
The place is a mess, to say the least... which, you expected. You stand up, then immediately scan the room for Alastor. It's a bit dark, and knowing him, he's probably going to try to hide, somehow. He hates being seen as weak, and from all the blood you've seen so far, he's gotten injured. Badly.
"Alastor? I know you're in here. I heard you walking." You walk around the room, checking every corner. Then, you notice an oddly moving shadow, alongside a puddle of blood. You walk over to it, frowning. "I know you're there. Come on. I'm here to help." You sigh as the shadow makes a little grunt noise, much like a deer would. You then cross your arms, narrowing your eyes at it. Looks like you'll have to appeal to his ego a little.
"How do you think people would feel if you, the great Radio Demon, died here alone in the shambles of his radio tower?" The shadow grows quiet as you say this, and before you know it, Alastor appears before you. He looks terrible, holding his stomach with one arm and the broken remains of his microphone in his other hand. You take a step towards him, but he backs away a bit.
"I'm fine, dear... It's nothing I can't handle. Just give me some time to regain my energy, then I-" You shake your head instantly, gesturing to his wound. "No, Alastor! Look at you. You almost died! Sure, maybe you can regenerate, I don't know... but I spent an hour or so looking for you, with the sole intention of helping you! I didn't come here for you to tell me "No, I don't need help, even though I'm severely wounded"! I came here to assist you."
You watch his eyes widen, his already strained grin becoming even more strained. His ears then pull back, the look in his eyes becoming more distressed. He mutters something, before nodding. Then, he leans against the wall, before slowly easing himself to the floor. "Fine, dear. If you truly came all this way, I guess it would be rude if I said no to your help." You are a bit shocked he gave up so easily, as well as how uneasy he looks. You decide to just help him, though.
You crouch next to him, taking out your medical tools from your bag. "You're definitely going to need stitches... my healing magic can only do so much, but it should work better if I close the wound first." You smile gently, before you point to him. "Though, I'm going to have to, at least, unbutton your shirt and coat to do so. Are you comfortable with that? I know you are very iffy about being touched..."
Alastor then begins to show more visible signs of discomfort, his eyebrows furrowing, and a slight static hum droning from somewhere nearby. You pick up on it, beginning to think aloud. "I can try to find some way to maneuver around the fabric, instead, since it was cut open-" "No. No. I trust you, dear." You blink a few times, wondering why he is acting so oddly. "Are you sure...?" "Yes, dear. I know you well enough to trust you." He then pauses, before quickly adding "You're a medical professional, after all. You've probably seen more than an upper torso, before. I trust you to not be a degenerate."
You simply chuckle, nodding. "You better! I'd say we're good friends, after all." You then quickly unbutton the clothing, before grabbing some sterile gloves and disinfectant. As you put the gloves on, you hear him mutter something, once again. Then, when you grab a set of tweezers and a cotton ball, he makes an odd comment. "We're great friends, yes...? If I told you a secret, you'd keep it, right?" You nod as you pick the cotton ball up with the needle, cover it in disinfectant, then begin to disinfectant the wound. "Yeah. You can tell me. It'll probably keep you distracted from any pain you feel, too."
Instead of a hiss of pain, the static noise grows loud for a moment. Then, it quiets down a bit as he talks. "I'm not entirely sure if you know this, already, but I made a deal... My soul is owned by someone else. I regret it more than anything..." You let out a little hum, your expression changing to one of shock. You grab the suture needle, as well as some thread. "Why are you telling me this?"
"(Y/N), my dear... I trust you more than many others. I've seen you working in that nurse's office of yours. You care more than the average sinner about others. Almost to a hilarious degree. I can imagine you patching up a soldier on one side of a battle and sending them out, then immediately do the same with someone from their enemy's side." He then laughs, before coughing a bit. "You care... but don't care when it comes to the right things to interest me. I trust you to not care about this, even if it means you'll keep secrets from me."
You nod, before gently smiling. "I'll keep it a secret... I know others could hold this against you and use it for an advantage. So, I won't say a word. Plus, you're right. I'm a bit of a chaotic middle ground. I don't like taking sides." You then get the needle into position, beginning to actually sew him up. "So, tell me... Is there anything else you're anxious about?"
His ears flick, the static growing once more. Then, it dies down again. "I don't want to be remembered as an altruist... I don't want to be seen as someone who had died for that hotel and his friends. I know that there's probably some people there who believe I died... and knowing Vox, he probably found some way to watch what happened. That man is practically obsessed with me, after all, dear!" He laughs, again, causing you to have to pause your suturing. After a few seconds, he begins coughing more. He sounds genuinely upset, despite his laughing.
"Why wouldn't you like that?" Alastor seems to disregard your question, instead beginning to talk about his deal once more. "There has to be an exit to that deal... a loophole. Something so I can get out of it..." You begin to continue, almost done with your work. "Are you sure...? What was it?" "I'm sure, and it's private matters."
You finish up, thing up the last suture's knot. Then, you take off your gloves, putting on a fresh pair, and grab the bandages. "... Alastor, are you alright...?" He looks to you, his eyes wide. "Why are you asking...? I am perfectly fine. Not a problem here. After I get free from my deal, I'll be-"
You narrow your eyes at him. "Alastor... you're frowning."
Alastor seems to grab at his cheeks for a moment, an odd, anxious grimace spreading across his face. Then, he begins forcing another grin. His tone is a lot more frantic, as if he has begun to spiral. Or, perhaps, just begun to outwardly express that he's spiraling. "I wasn't frowning. I am fine, dear." "You're not fine... but, if you say so, Alastor. I won't push the topic." You bandage his wound, before sighing. "Okay, so... This magic works oddly. You'll be-"
Before you can finish, he begins standing up. "Hey, wait-" He, holds a hand up, shushing you. Then, he points to himself. "I'll take care of the rest. You should handle your own wounds, dear. Don't think I haven't noticed your scrapes and cuts. You look like you've ran through a thornbush on your way over here." He begins buttoning up his shirt and coat, and you're shocked to see it repairing itself as he does so. Clearly, while your friend's power is limited, he's hiding more secrets than you expected...
"Fine... You better not leave me here by myself as I do so, though." You go from a crouching position, to a sitting one, as you clean off your tiny cuts. You hear him go quiet, for a moment, but can't see his expression due to your focus now being on yourself. After a few moments, though, you hear him chuckle.
For the first time, you hear his voice clearly, with no radio waves obscuring it. "Of course, dear. I never would dream of that. The others, though? Maybe..."
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3igbootyl0ver · 18 days ago
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A New Face Pt.2
pairing: Tara Carpenter x Reader
summary: Tara was devastated you didn't text her. That was until you met her at a party.
word count: 2250
Pt.1 | Pt.3 | Pt.4
a/n: hey guys, first of all thank you all so much for the overwhelming support 🥹 I didn't expect this much attention at all especially for my first ever pic I've written. Anyways, I'm always open to feedback and requests if you have any. Take note I'm still getting used to this whole Tumblr thing so it may take a while for me to put up master lists and all that stuff (p.s sorry if there's any mistakes, a part of me feels like this lowkey sucks lolz)
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It’s been 2 weeks since Tara had last seen you. And during those weeks, Tara’s mind had been fogged by you. Her mind kept repeating your interaction and every time a smile grew on her face. The group of friends had been making fun of her ever since they entered the lift after leaving yours and Chad’s apartment, saying she looked like a kid getting a lollipop for breakfast, all giggly and in a daze, but she didn’t care. 
She wanted to see you again badly. She started plotting and thinking about ways your paths can collide again. Like, she could plan walking in school and “coincidentally” cross paths even though her classroom was nowhere near yours and at least 10 minutes away from your building. But she wouldn’t do that! “I’m not that crazy” Tara thought. But would she? (A teeny tiny part of Tara knows she’s capable of doing so.)
She didn’t have the guts to text you and it’s already been two weeks! A part of her was hoping that you’d text her, but a pang of disappointment hit her when you didn’t. She usually isn’t this hung up on a person like this. Sure, she found some individuals cute from time to time, but she wouldn’t go up to this extend. She wouldn’t chase for someone, but for you, maybe, just a little bit, she would start jogging a little. There was something so.. alluring and appealing about you that Tara couldn’t comprehend. It’s like her mind glitched and was programmed to think about you 24/7.
 Tara was currently lying on her bed occupied by her mind (thinking of you obviously) when there was aggressive knocks on the front door.  “Give me a minute! Jesus..” murmured Tara as she walked towards the threshold. She opened the door which revealed Mindy looking impatient. 
“Dude, are you not dressed yet? We planned to go this party at least a week ago!” 
“Oh shit, I forgot about this Mindy I’m sorry! Give me 15 minutes to get ready” Tara replied apologetically while Mindy rolled her eyes and plopped herself down on the couch, kicking up her feet onto the coffee table and reached for the tv remote. After an excruciatingly long 15 minutes (it was actually 45 minutes), Tara and Mindy were set to leave and make their way to the party that was a few blocks away.
The house reeked of alcohol, weed, and cigarettes. The party-goers were dressed casually, with some wearing revealing and tight clothes to attract attention, no doubt trying to get laid. There was r&b and occasionally hip hop music blaring through the speakers. Mindy met up with Anika, dragging her to get a drink to get the night started which made Tara lose track of them, leaving her all alone. Tara’s stomach churned when she kept seeing couples making out in the hallway as she strolled to the kitchen to get a drink. (She kept this like a dirty secret, but she had imagined as if it was you and her making out)
“Hey Tara!” She turned around and saw Chad, with a random girl with his arm around her waist. 
“Chad? I didn’t know you were coming to this party” Tara explained, ignoring the dirty looks and stink eye given from the girl
“Yeah, I didn’t want to actually, but Y/N asked me out to this party and….” Whatever gibberish Chad spewed out was ignored as you occupied Tara’s mind. You were here? Y/N? Chad’s sexy and hot and super cute roommate? She’s doomed. 
“Why didn’t you tell me they were coming?! Oh god! Oh my god, Do I look good? Do I have anything between my teeth, I knew I should have put on a sexier outfit”
“Tara- Tara calm down. You look good, okay? Don’t worry about it. If it makes you feel any better, they called you cute after you guys left the other day.” Chad commented, putting a stop onto Tara’s word vomit. You called her cute? Tara felt butterflies in her stomach. But why didn’t you text her? All Tara could hope for is that the universe is on her side tonight and let her catch a glimpse of you, and preferably not drunk to make a fool of herself and to earn atleast a decent conversation. 
She chugged down the alcoholic drink she made and decided to make one in an instant, trying to get rid of her blush since just thinking of you made her stomach do somersaults. She sat down on the couch, hoping she could see you soon. After almost half an hour, her patience was wearing thin, she hadn’t seen you yet. How even big is this house? Why couldn’t she see you? It was as if this house was alive and kept shifting its walls purposely to block her view of you. She made her way to the kitchen to make a stronger drink. Mindy was probably making out with Anika in a random room anyways so she doesn’t really bother, which left Tara looking like a real loser all alone weeping in the kitchen. 
She chugged down another shot of her drink, before making a new one. As she lifted her head to swallow her drink in one go, she felt a presence behind her. She smelt a scent of a wood, earthy with a reminiscent of smoke notes, along with a subtle smell of sweat. 
“Hey stranger. What’re you doing here all alone?” Tara choked on her drink when she heard your voice. Damn it, even your voice is hot. How does that even work? Tara had a coughing fit, while trying to cover up her blush and not make a fool out of herself (she already did). You made it even worse by wincing slightly and putting your hand on her lower back, rubbing it up and down her back and trying to at least comfort her while she was having a crisis.
“You alright there? Let me get some water for you,” You softly chuckled before proceeding to the refrigerator and grab a bottle of water, opening the cap and passing it to Tara which gobbled it down. It took her a few moments to settle down and for her blush to subside.
“Thank you, really. I appreciate it.”
“No problem, I can’t debate with you about horror movies if you’re dead, right?”
“Ha ha. Very funny. Anyway, I didn’t know you were coming to this party. I assumed you were too cool and busy for this type of stuff.” Tara  teased. She took this time to take in the sight of you, you were wearing baggy jeans with a fitting t-shirt, revealing your tattoos. There goes the butterflies in her tummy again.
“I didn’t call in a shift today and I had nothing to do. Plus, it was an impromptu thing to come here since, well, I had a feeling you were going to be here and..I wanted to see you.” You softly chuckled, with your voice lowering at the end. Now it was your turn to start blushing, and Tara found it adorable.
“Well, I’m right here in front of you, cutie. What did you want to talk about?” Tara boldly added in the nickname, in hopes of seeing you blush again. You smiled at the term which revealed those dimples AND your blush. Tara gave her a pat on the back for the double victory. You opened your mouth to give a sly reply back, however your response was cut off by someone calling out for you.
“Y/N!! You in to play some beer pong?” You looked at Tara apologetically for the disruption and invited her to play along with you as a pair.
You both were up against another pair, which was obviously experienced beer pong players at that. You were willing to drink the cups that your opponent successfully had thrown the ball in, but Tara insisted on drinking it while you focus on throwing the ball. Understandably, both of you lost and while you thanked them for the round and lost gracefully, Tara stomped off like a little kid while mumbling swear words to herself, evidently affected by the amount of alcohol she had to drink. You chased for her and found her in the kitchen, mixing different liquids to create an abomination of a drink.
“Tara, you had enough for tonight don’t you think? Let me walk you home.” You suggested while taking her cup away as she was right about to sip it, making her whine. Tara turned around and looked at you as if you had said the most ridiculous sentence she had heard in her lifetime.
“NO!!! Please, let’s just stay a lit-little longer. I p-promise I’ll behave. I just want to spend time with you.” Tara begged and slurring her words, while learning against you for your warmth, and looking up at you with those undeniably adorable doe eyes, giving you the best puppy look she could express.
“We can talk on our way to your apartment, okay? I promise I won’t leave you alone” Tara huffed and rolled her eyes, but continued leaning against you for support. You only made it to the threshold of the exit holding her beside you until you couldn’t handle it anymore with how Tara kept moving around and losing her balance. You offered to give her a piggyback ride, which she immediately accepted after nodding her head enthusiastically.
“Why didn’t- didn’t you text me? I was waiting..waiting for you all along, man, fuck” Tara slurred, having hiccups in between her sentences.
“I’m sorry Tara, would you feel better if I said I was too nervous to text you?” You replied smugly, which made her wrap her arms around your neck a little tighter. You could feel a sudden warmth on the side of your neck, indicating that Tara was blushing. “Cute” You thought.
“Whatever..Whatever, dude. I just wanted to ask what horror movie you preferred,” Tara tried to shrug off and tried to act nonchalant as if your silence for the past 2 weeks didn’t bother her.
“I loved watching Terrifier 2. Art the clown really is a masterpiece,” You softly commented. You’ve reached the entrance of Tara’s apartment and entered the lift, softly asking what level she lives at before the lift door closes. You’re surprised you that didn’t feel tired of carrying her at all. Even after walking atleast 2 miles from the party. Most of the time carrying her home was in silence, since Tara was falling in and out of sleep.
“Me too!! I-lloved watching him kill random people” You walked her towards  her door, slowly getting her on her feet and stabilizing her when she was swaying around clumsily.
“Oh yeah? Well, I heard the new Terrifier 3 is coming out. Maybe we could watch it together during the premier? Like, a date?” You suggested, blush slowly creeping up from your neck to your cheeks. You knocked on the door, hoping Sam was awake to bring her in.
“Yes.” Tara simply replied while nodding insistently. You chuckled at her boldness.
“It’s a date then. We’ll talk about it when you’re sober and having a massive hangover tomorrow, okay?” Tara nodded her head, her arms snaking around your neck to pull you closer. Your hands landed at her waist, feeling her being overly warm, probably from drinking too much. You decided to lean in and give her a kiss on her cheek, holding it for a little longer just to tease the shorter girl.
When you pulled back, you could see her blushing, probably not expecting the kiss. However, she decided to lean in this time, and now aiming for your lips. Just as both your lips brushed each other, the door opened, revealing Sam looking upset with wide eyes. You both pull back, with you coughing awkwardly under Sam’s gaze. Tara entered her apartment after saying her goodbyes, leaving you and Sam. You tried to talk to her, but ended up backfiring after she rolled her eyes and slammed the door on you even before you could utter a syllable. You made your way home and tried to ignore the interaction with Sam by occupying your mind with the younger Carpenter. You know talking to Tara won’t be easy due to her overprotective sister and friends, but you’re always up for a challenge, especially for a girl you’re falling in love with.
On the other side of the door, Sam was relentlessly scolding Tara, since she didn’t inform her of the party she was going to attend and that she had been worried sick the whole day. The least she expected was Mindy or Chad sending her home. Not you. Tara ignored Sam and went in her room, and plopped down on her bed with a huff, and fell asleep not even 5 minutes in.
The next day, Tara woke up with the most excruciating throbbing headache, it got worse when Sam continued her nagging about her going to parties without informing her. It took her awhile to adjust herself, with eating breakfast and taking a hot shower. She realized her phone had died since yesterday and decided  to charge it. When it turned on, the first notification she saw was from you.
Y/N: Heyy, hope you’re feeling better.
Sent at 11.33am.
Y/N: And I’m also hoping you didn’t forget the date we planned. Looking forward to seeing you soon :)
Sent at 11.36am.
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mikkomacko · 23 days ago
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Mob Movember
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Mob Boss Nico x reader
A/n: just a little something inspired by the diva pictured above x
~~~~~~~
“So that’s like gonna be a thing now?”
Nico’s eyebrows pinch together, eyes finding yours in the bathroom mirror and he pauses, razor half way to his face and warm water running from the faucet.
“What do you mean?”
You shrug and he blinks, looking back at his reflection and biting his bottom lip to pull it taut. Then he’s dragging his razor over a smear of shaving cream on his chin, dipping the razor back into the sink to rinse it.
“You shaved a lot this week,” you decide to say, “and yet you always skip the space above your lip.”
Nico bristles at that, a petulant pout glaring at you through the mirror and you try not to laugh at him after indirectly insulting his mustache. It’s not that you hate it per se, it just looks different on him. He’s still cute, you’ll give him that. It’s impossible for him to ever not be attractive, but the mustache doesn’t have the same sexy appeal his beard does.
“Didn’t know I had to explain the concept of a mustache to you.”
“Ouch,” you hold a hand over your heart. “Mean and mustache-y.”
A sigh of annoyance huffs out of his nose, and he shakes his head just once before going back to cleaning up his jawline. “Go away,” he says, but you linger a minute longer to watch him finish shaving, eyes following the bend of his waist when he leans over to rinse off any left over bits of shaving cream.
Giving yourself a moment to appreciate his ass in those light blue jeans he wears all the time, you wonder off before he can look back in the mirror and still see you there.
~~~~
“Not you too!”
Timo frowns, looking around curiously as he slides into the passenger seat. He’s wearing an overly thick puffy coat and those stupid 5 inch inseam shorts from Lululemon that all the boys except Nico wear (much to your dismay) and you were gonna tease him about whether he’s hot or cold but the sight of his face has changed your plans.
“What?” He closed the door, immediately warming his hands in front of the vents.
“Is there like a mustache epidemic going around? What is wrong with you and Nico?”
You saw Timo yesterday, and while he had more stubble than he usually does, you didn’t think he’d be shaving it off into a mustache too. It’s been three long days of trying to get Nico’s new look to grow on you and no matter how times you kiss him, feel the scratch of his freshly shaved cheeks, it’s still not the same. You don’t like the way it tickles your upper lip but not your chin, and you don’t really like the way that you can’t kiss his nose anymore without feeling it.
But you’re trying and it’s hard. Even harder now that your bestie has apparently jumped on the train too.
“You don’t like them?” He asks, not offended but curious. You side eye him, pulling away from the curb and making your way towards the yoga studio.
“Is that why Nico is pouting?” He laughs, clicking his seatbelt. He rubs at his lame excuse of a mustache and you mentally give Nico credit for that. At least he can actually grow a really nice one, not that you’re going to say that to Timo.
“He’s pouting?”
“Uh yeah,” he scoffs, “he’s moped every day this week, Sieges said they’ve been having to talk to clients and stuff because he gets moody right away.”
You cringe, feeling a little bad about the whole thing. You didn’t mean to make Nico feel bad or like you don’t like his mustache. Yeah you don’t love it, but he’s Nico -your Nico -and everything about him is always so beautiful.
“I may be struggling to enjoy it,” you explain hesitantly, “I just am not used to it and he’s never been a mustache guy. Maybe like a day or two but he always shaves.”
“Oof,” Timo laughs, “yeah you probably hurt his feelings. Literally his biggest flex is that you think he’s so pretty.”
Groaning painfully, you thump your head against the steering wheel before pouting up at the red light. You’ve always Nico to be a sensitive person, not in a bad way or anything. He’s just never hid or pushed down feelings when it came to you, and it physically makes you ache to think that your reaction to his new facial hair made him so insecure he didn’t want to tell you.
You’ve got some major Nico loving to make up for.
~~~~
Nico is sat in the Devils booth of The Rock, hunched over the scheduling iPad as the boys mill around the bar. Jesper and Jonas are actually working it looks like, Jonas holding a ladder that has the smaller of the two men perched at the top, Jesper screwing in a new security camera. He’s got Mercer and Alex stocking the bar, and you almost laugh at the overly straight and organized bottles on Mercer’s side compared to haphazardly placed ones on Alex’s.
The Hughes boys are doing something they’re probably not suppose to be doing on the upper level, no where to be seen but definitely heard.
Timo parts from you to go join Jesper and Jonas, who look like they could use it by the way Jesper is trembling on the top rung.
You approach the booth, setting the lunch you brought for Nico onto the table alongside your greens smoothie. He looks up at you when you drop your jacket into the seat, eyes following your movement when you slide in next to him.
“Hey,” he mumbles, and something melancholy settles in the air. A bittersweet smile tugs at your lips, your heart throbbing when you take in the dejected look in his big brown eyes and the way he’s pouting.
“Hi,” you greet, reaching up brush his hair away from his face. Then you hold his cheek, brushing your thumb over the scar on his cheekbone. “I brought you lunch.”
He doesn’t bother to look interested. “Thanks baby.”
“I like your mustache,” you say quietly, tenderly pressing your thumb into the hinge of his jaw where you know he gets headaches from clenching. Like its second nature he relaxes, melting into the feeling.
“No you don’t,” he insists, licking at his pouting lips. “S’fine-“
“I do, I do like it Nico. It’s just different and I was teasing because I’m not used to it.”
Nico blinks, fluttering those stupidly pretty eyelashes at you and then two dimples sink into his cheeks. “Yeah?”
Giggling, you cup the back of his head and draw him closer to you. “You know you’re always handsome, no matter what.” You kiss him before he can say anything else, smiling when his hair scratches at your cheeks and lip.
Nico hums, reaching around to grip your hip and pull you until you’re half sitting in his lap. Then he melts back into the booth, sighing contently.
“Would you two get a room, Jesus fuck.”
You peck Nico’s lips one more time for good measure before pulling back, curling into his side and he slips his arm around you.
Nico reaches for his food, and you bite your lip to keep from laughing. The Hughes brothers have made their way down the stairs, and Mercer and Alex have abandoned the bar in favor of crowding around you and Nico.
Which in itself is a little scary, but add the thin and scraggly mustaches they all have is even worse. Desperate for a distraction, you scramble to grab your juice and take a sip, casting a glance over at Nico who’s smirking proudly. He shares a knowing look with you.
“Why are you making that face?”
You look at Jack, forcing yourself to only look in his eyes as you clear your throat. “What face?”
He points an accusing finger at you. “That face, why are you laughing?”
“M’not.”
“You are, Holtz tell her she is.”
Alex looks around helplessly and you do giggle when you realize his poor mustache is nothing but peach fuzz. “Ok now she’s laughing.”
Steadying yourself, you force your smile down. “I love this new look you all have going on.”
Almost immediately they all groan, offended and outraged and you can’t even listen to them. Hunching over into Nico’s shoulder you cackle, tears springing up in your eyes and stomach aching.
You can feel him chuckle, one hand rubbing at your back to calm you down. Finally you peel yourself off of him, wiping at your wet eyes as the boys glare at you.
“Don’t be mean, it’s for a good cause.” Mercer defends.
“What cause?”
“Movember,” Jack states proudly, “it was Nico’s idea. Good cause and we all bond over our shared ‘staches.” He strokes over his lame excuse of a mustache and Luke cringes, cheeks tinting pink.
You look to Nico. “This was your doing?”
He looks utterly pleased with himself, shrugging nonchalantly but there’s a twinkle of mischief in his features. The sight makes you giddy. What has he been up to?
The other three boys wonder up behind the rest, and you cackle again at the blonde patch of hair on Jesper’s lip and the razor burn on Jonas’s chin. Offended, they frown at you.
“S’like our new tradition,” Jesper says but it sounds more like a question as he examines Nico.
Your boyfriend beams at you. “Like last year we did no nut November,” he explains, and you roll your eyes. You hated that stupid challenge between them, and if you recall correctly, they all did too.
“Yeah and you lost,” Timo mocks, glancing at you because you know all too well why Nico lost. And Nico knows too because you can’t for the life of you keep a secret from him.
“Hey you all cried to y/n to make me lose,” Nico argues, and Timo’s mouth drops open.
“Traitor!” Jesper gasps, pointing at you. “You weren’t supposed to tell him we came to you.”
“Hey the only loyalty I have is to him,” you jab your thumb in Nico’s direction. “And his dick.”
Nico’s smirk grows, shuffling in his seat as he accepts the compliment from you. “You all went crying to her about how dry November was making me mean. And that’s why I lost.”
“Should’ve known to never trust a temptress,” Jack mutters, glaring at you. Offended, you glare back.
“Well you can’t a grow a mustache,” you hiss, “in fact none of you can. That dirt smear on your lip looks like it took twenty years to grow Jack.”
He clutches his heart, offended and looks to Nico for help. Nico takes a sip of your smoothie, gesturing for them to leave. “M’on her side. Get back to work, all of you.”
They grumble, stalking away from the table and muttering to each other as they return to their assigned jobs for the day. Shuffling, you turn to Nico.
“You’re so mean for letting them walk around like that.” You giggle quietly, and Nico snickers.
“You should see the update selfies they’ve been taking,” he whispers, pleased with himself. “Think I’ll make a collage of them and hang them in the office before I tell them it was all a joke.”
“Why didn’t you tell me this was to get back at them for last year?”
He shrugs. “You were so fucking good to me after they whined last year that I wanted it to be a surprise. And was it a good one, or what?”
You laugh again, flashing back to seeing them all standing around you earlier, so proud of their matching mustaches.
“It’s kind of cute,” you mumble thoughtfully, laying your head on his shoulder. “They all wanted to be like you.”
Nico hums in agreement. Then he’s sliding the iPad to you. “Look this over, yeah? Make sure I’ve got the schedule and times right for Thanksgiving.”
He’s so sweet, you think, looking over the calendar he’s filled in. Even when he’s fucking around and embarassing the boys, he’s given them slack for almost the whole month. And he’s even written in the day off for Friday after Thanksgiving. Instead a big red heart is drawn on the day and in his perfectly slanted handwriting is written “Family Sleepover”.
“Looks good,” you agree, pressing a kiss to his jaw. “But the mustaches have to go by Thanksgiving. I am not having those in any photos.”
“Yes ma’am.”
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noellevanious · 3 months ago
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NOTE: For now, I'm turning reblogs off on the post. I've gotten enough support that I feel safe doing so, but I may have to turn reblogs back on. Hopefully I won't have to. Thank you so much everybody, for helping or just sharing the post. It means more than you could ever imagine.
Hey so. I despise making this post but I'm kinda fucked over by unemployment right now LOL
basicallyyyyyyy I have no money, a bunch of different bills that I need to pay for (my phone, our internet, my student loans, my car payments, and am still actively looking for a job.
I SHOULD be getting unemployment, but due to some stupid bullshit involving ID verification for a case from years ago, I'm NOT getting it, at least right now. I'm in the process of appealing but I have no clue how long it will take.
So if you can help me at all -
I'm selling stuff on my eBay to try and keep myself afloat. Generally videogame stuff - some handheld consoles, some games, some controllers, maybe a figure or two.
If you wanna support me directly, you can do so on Ko-fi. If you do it through here, mention in your message you want a tiny doodle and I'll draw you anything you want (WITHIN REASON - and these will be minor doodles). I also have Ραyραl, but will only send it to people I trust due to personal reasons.
Please spread around if at all possible, and only help me out if you can manage it yourself - I don't need somebody else going into the negatives for me.
(I will turn off reblogs when my unemployment is handled and/or I don't need assistance anymore, btw)
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itsagoodluckkiss · 2 months ago
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Lost Time
Pairings: Roronoa Zoro x F!Reader
WC: 2K
Warnings: Mutual pining, idiots in love, just pure fluff, no use of Y/N
A/N: Finally coming out from my hole to work on the requests I have neglected for so long. It was a rough couple of months, I'm juggling work, school and the problems that come with existence, so please be kind. English is not my first language, so sorry if this is all over the place at times. This is a request from my lovely @macbethsymphony, I love you so much, beautiful. I combined the two ideas and I really hope you'll at least enjoy it. Also forgive me for not making it suggestive, fluff suited it better I think. 💕
"Hiya 💕 Can I request something? I’m really craving some Zoro fluff 👉👈 I was thinking of something along the lines of kind of an accidental confession? Like the reader accidentally says they find him handsome but quickly and casually brushes it off (out of embarrassment but they’ve got a good poker face) but it sticks in his mind for days. Or maybe something about insomniac alone time in the crows nest? Idk I’ll let you chose what you prefer (if you decide to go for it that is because absolutely no pressure!!!) I’ll also let you decide if you wanna make it suggestive :3 whatever feels best for the story! Anyways love you ✨"
If anyone had said to you two years ago that you’d find your forever family on a pirate ship, you would have laughed at their face. Sometimes, when you lay in your bed at night, you still can’t comprehend the fact that you’re surrounded with such unique and amazing people. Despite the hardships and pain you had endured, you would never exchange the loving bond you had with your friends, each one holding a special place in your heart. But one of those bonds was slightly different.
It was slightly unbelievable how you had hit it off instantly with the swordsman of the crew, ever since they picked you up from your small island town back in the East Blue. Zoro’s your partner in crime, the person closest to you, the one you’d always trust with your hopes and fears. Even in moments of weakness, he was the person who managed to make you get it together. And somehow in return, you had managed to crack through his hard shell, gaining his trust and respect. Υour cheeky and bubbly personality appealing to his nonchalant character, making him smile whenever you were around, whenever you’d spend time together.
In the battlefield, you two were a force to be reckoned with. You always had his back, literally, watching out for enemies’ sneak attacks, him always protecting you when you were down, cutting down on anyone who dared to touch you. And that’s why Zoro never went easy on you during training, always wanting you to give you a challenge so you’d be in your best shape when in need. You appreciated that he never judged you based on gender, but sometimes, you wish he would relax, both for your sake and his.
It was the following days of a particularly rough battle; your bodies were still recovering from the wounds you sustained. You were in the crow’s nest, trying to keep up with his quick moves, the muscles of your legs straining as you deflected his attacks. Honestly, you couldn’t understand how this man could move with those dreaded wounds on him, but here he was, almost kicking you off your feet.
“Don’t lose your focus.”
Your eyes met his as you panted, trying to find your breath, fists raised in the air, sweat running down your forehead. You glanced down his body, your eyes widening when you saw the red streak on the bandages that covered his waist. You relaxed your stance immediately, going towards him to make him sit down the bench.
“Stupid bastard, you reopened your wound!”
“It’s nothing, don’t hover over me, we shouldn’t stop.”
“Shut up and sit still, let me see.”
You unwrapped the bandages around him, flinching when the slash on his ribs was visible to you. You grabbed the first aid kit from across the room. Chopper had insisted there would be one in every room because according to him, he may be a reindeer, but he may not always be able to treat all of you animals simultaneously. You sat beside Zoro on the bench. Disinfecting the wound got you a slight, almost silent hiss from him.
“You’re lucky the stiches haven’t reopened.”
“See? It’s nothing, no need to fuss.”
“You know, I only joined you today because I wanted to stop you eventually. You shouldn’t strain your body like that, Zoro. You should give it time to heal.”
You were careful with your moves, applying the ointment your doctor had made, cleaning the skin around his wound and then got the sweat off his abs before you wrapped fresh bandages around him. You were the only person besides Chopper that Zoro allowed to tend to his wounds. You had to admit that it made you feel special. It also gave you a chance to touch that body that felt like it was sculpted by the gods. You’d be lying to yourself if you said you never starred at him when he wouldn’t look, or how your heart thumped in your chest whenever he was too close. You had come to peace with your feelings of love for the swordsman, and you had come to peace with the fact that you’d never say a word about them. They wouldn’t be reciprocated anyways, so why would you ruin your friendship over them?
Right now, you had him in your arms, and it was enough. Rubbing the tension off his shoulders, his back laying against your chest, sighing in relief. His guard was down when you two were alone, allowing himself some sort of vulnerability, trusting in you to keep that side of him to yourself. His chiseled back, bare and clean from scars, laid in your display. His eyes were closed and you could see with the corner of your eye his facial features slowly relaxing. Your mind was racing, how you wanted to smother that beautiful face of his with kisses. You were smiling to yourself, not realizing you were thinking out loud.
“You’re so handsome…”
Your eyes widened for a second, breath caught in your throat, before you composed yourself as his eyes snap open to look at you, his gaze as stoic as always, not able to read what was going on in his mind.
“What?”
“I mean, you’re too handsome to die from not taking care of yourself. Do better, Roronoa.”
Your mind was reeling, almost short circuiting, but you kept your cool, appearing unbothered by what you just said, although you let go of him almost immediately after. You gathered your things, ready to go die in your room from embarrassment. He rises to his feet, stretching his limbs before grabbing a tower to wipe off the remaining sweat off his forehead.
“I’m gonna go lay down. You should rest too. Promise me you won’t train more today, yes?”
A sigh of annoyance left his mouth. “Okay, I promise you. Happy?”
“Yes. I’ll see you later.”
~
He had to admit, he didn’t expect your compliment. Of course, you had complimented each other’s skills and fighting in the past, but you had never made a comment about his appearance. Zoro pondered over it the next couple of days. He noticed how you had scattered almost immediately after, and even if you didn’t let your emotions take the better of you, he could sense your nervousness after that comment. He was taken aback but didn’t want to make you uncomfortable by mentioning the topic. It also gave him a sense of satisfaction. He had to admit he was happy you thought about him like that. He didn’t want to get his hopes up, but the weird feeling that had taken its place in his heart from the first time you joined this crew was growing stronger each passing day.
Zoro had tried to deny his emotions for a long time. But two years apart made him realize there was no point in that. The times he would catch himself thinking about you, missing you in a different way than the rest of the crew. The way his heart clenched when he saw you again. How different, even more beautiful, you were but also how it was like no time had passed when you wrapped your hands around him in glee that you were with him again. It made him see there was no denying the devotion he had for you. Yet, he didn’t want to smother you over it, making you feel awkward for not reciprocating his feelings.
But your compliment made him doubt his decision. He recounted the times he had caught you staring at him, only to turn your head away in embarrassment. Or how you always leaned on him when you were tipsy, giggling against his shoulder. And how he always held you close in those moments. What if you actually felt the same? What if you actually saw him the way he saw you, and you were afraid of the same thing he was. Rejection. Zoro was never the man that cared about people accepting him or not. But it felt different with you. A stupid need wanted you to accept him in a certain way. The way two lovers got together in those novels Robin was reading about in her spare time. Love is a strong word, but he couldn’t find a better one for his feelings.
All these thoughts were swirling in his head as he nursed his bottle of sake while keeping watch in the crow’s nest until he heard the hatch opening. And as if some divine power was watching over him, you came into the room, closing the hatch behind you.
“Knew I’d find you here.”
“I’m keeping watch, so I don’t know where else I could be.”
You both chuckled as you made your way to stand next to him, leaning on the railing.
“Can’t sleep?”
“Something like that, yeah. I’ve been tossing and turning for the past hour.”
Zoro said nothing, instead offering you his bottle. You gingerly took it from his hand, your fingers brushing just for a second. You took a swig, looking out on the open sea. There was a full moon illuminating down on you, and no sound around you except the gentle waves against the hull of your ship. You stayed like that for a while, eyes on the vast ocean around you.
“You ever think about lost time?”
You turn your gaze in surprise when you heard him speak.
“What do you mean?”
“… Things you should have done but were late to do and you wasted time.”
“What are you thinking about?”
Zoro finally looked at you. You couldn’t read the gaze he had in his eyes but the hold he had on you would never allow you to look away.
“That two years have passed without seeing you and I still haven’t said that I thought of you every single day.”
“You… thought of me?”
You felt your heart clenching. Your eyes widen as you stared at him. Did he actually just say that? Zoro was never a man that played with his words, always blunt and straightforward. He scoffed lightheartedly, a small smile on his face at your shocked expression.
“Of course I did. And during that time, I also realized I wasted time wondering what you’d think of me while I could have spent it holding you in my arms.” He took a small pause. “I love you. I’m sorry.”
He turned his gaze to look at the sea once again while your now teary eyes were glued at him, hanging on the words that fell from his mouth, a wide smile forming on your face. It felt like a dream. A dream you regularly had in those two agonizing years you yearned to see him again.
“What are you sorry for?”
His eyes were on you again, reading your expression.
“I-”
“Do you have any idea how many times I wanted to just tell you? How much struggle it took to keep it all down?”
Your bodies were now thoughtlessly closing the distance between you, almost touching. Your hands grasped his shoulders softly while his traveled to your waist to hold you steadily in his chest.
“You should have.”
He leaned slightly, your foreheads touching. His gaze buried into yours, communicating all the feelings that both of you shared. Longing, reluctance, uncertainty and most of all, love.
“I don’t want to waste more time. May I kiss you?”
You gave him a toothy grin, a tear sliding down your face.
“Yes. Please.”
His hand cupped your cheek to wipe the tear away as his lips found yours in a sweet kiss that held no hesitation, all the unspoken words both of you hadn’t spoken in so long pouring into it. His other hand held your waist firmly against him while your lips moved in sync with a passion that couldn’t be described, as the moon shone down on you, the only witness to your link. After a moment you broke the kiss to catch your breath, smiling, his breath falling on your lips as he chuckled breathlessly, foreheads still against each other.
“You’re stuck with me now.”
“Wouldn’t want it any other way, Zoro.”
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