#still want to write an au about this commercial | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

p-taryn-dactyl · 5 months ago

Note

dudeeee ik ur reqs are open so why not give this a shot and see what u think abt it! since the new agatha trailer came out I CANNOT STOP THINKING ABT HERRRJDID!! so this is abt her! (plus love ur agatha content!! ive read all of em ALL OF EM)

so.. what abt a AU where agatha is the reader's manager and the reader is a famous actor? this could lead to a dark fic or just a wholesome light one! whichever u prefer ill leave it up to u!

~p.s i hope ur feeling better!! have a nice day and feel free to ignore this if u want to^^

a/n: first off, i love ur energy so much omg, and also SAME! the trailer goes through my mind 24/7 and i’m not mad about it! ooooo i love this idea!! definitely have to take creative liberties bc i’ve sadly never been famous😔 word count: 2.6k warning(s): fun fact: i am making all of these things up, if you're secretly an actor keep everything i did wrong in this fic to yourself - slight jealous!Agatha - friends to coworkers to lovers - agatha definitely knows how to communicate - all movies and characters mentioned in this are worlds/stories i have written- kinda rushed ending but then again i feel like everything is rushed - i really hope you like this! thank you so much for the ask and i am feeling a bit better 🫶🏻 - i really can't write kissing my apologies

i was the saint, you used to adore me

You remember when you first hired Agatha.

You were just beginning to dip your toes into the pool of acting, cautiously testing the waters by sending out your less than perfect resume to anyone who would accept. Agatha was the first, and only, acting manager to respond. She too was new to her field, so far only representing people who specialized in car commercials and medicine ads. She wanted a change of pace and your lack luster resume spoke to her. Some part of you still wanders why she picked to represent you, even though in the end everything worked out incredibly well, you wanted to know why she wanted to work with you.

Because now it seemed like she wanted nothing to do with you.

At the beginning, it was like the two of you couldn't be seperated. Outside of work hours, many movie nights happened, sometimes an excuse for Agatha to show you her favorite directing and acting techniques, sometimes an excuse for you to binge watch Sandra Bullock's entire cinematography. You would fill her inbox with emails of dream roles, she would fill yours with links to acting classes if the number of emails in her inbox from you exceeded 1,000.

She was your best friend.

You missed her.

If you had to pinpoint the time when she started drifting away, it was right after you landed your breakout role of Aerin Fey in the movie Pillars, which became a boxoffice hit, making nearly three times the production cost in theaters. Soon, your portrayal of the multiversal anti hero was on billboards, had sequels and contracts signed, had custom dolls on toy store shelves. It was everything you wanted, seeing little girls inspired by you as you either walked down a red carpet or passed them in the grocery store. You loved signing autographs in the signature Agatha and you spent nights perfecting. You loved taking pictures with fans, almost equally as excited as they were, after all your dream was coming true.

All you wanted was to share these moments with your closest friend but soon Agatha started only filling the manager role in your life. No longer did she appear at your door bearing tubs of ice cream to celebrate a role you had been offered, no longer did she let you cry when you lost a role you had been desperate for. Your texts and emails became dry, only notifying you of roles she had sent your portfolio in for or sending you calender invites for interviews and late night show appearances.

All this was swirling in your head as you scrolled through your old texts with Agatha, your eyes becoming watery as you went further into the messages. You sat in your living room on your large couch, a purchase Agatha practically had to force you to confirm. You still didn't understand why you needed such a large couch or house for that matter, as you were the only one living in the space. It was damn comfortable though. You let yourself sink into the cushions, your mind running wild with theories as to why Agatha suddenly cut your friendship off. Sure, you two would keep a professional appearance when seen together on the carpet but you were absolutely certain people noticed the tense atmosphere between you.

"Bitch if you don't answer this door right now I'm going to assume you're dead and call every TMZ reporter here!"

The voice of your co-star turned friend Wanda Maximoff interupted your self pity episode, making you realize that the pounding you had subconsciously been hearing wasn't a sad theme song your mind created for you. No, it was the furious knocking of the red head. You reluctantly got out of your comfy spot, slightly taking Wanda's threat seriously. You opened your door, revealing your friend holding a folder with Pillar's studio name printed on the side and a bottle of champagne. You nodded to the bottle.

"Where's the rest?"

Wanda laughed, nudging her way into your home, bumping your shoulder with hers.

"Oh so it's that kind of day."

Wanda took her place on your couch, setting the bottle on the coffee table and crossing her legs with the folder in her lap. She patted the spot next to her on your couch, a smile wide on her face.

"Now come on, we have to make sure we know the answers to questions and what not to answer!"

You groaned at the reminder of your TV appearance tomorrow. Which also meant enduring the new cold demeanor of your be-manager. Wanda seemed to read your face as you made your way to sit back on the couch. She patted your knee once you were sat, her face a mix of pity and a bit of anger for your sadness.

"Is Agatha still acting weird?"

You nodded while staying silent, not wanting to cry in front of one of your only real friends. Not yet at least.

"God that's so stupid honestly. The least she could do is tell you what's going on instead of acting like a fourth grader who's favorite swing is being used during recess. I know you love her Y/N, I'm sorry."

You both laughed and choked at Wanda's words.

She was right, you loved Agatha. You've loved her since the first time you met her and your feelings only grew and intensified as your partnership continued throughout the years.

But you'd never say it outloud. That would make it real. And if it was real, that meant the woman you loved hated you and you had no idea why.

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

Agatha was leaning against the wall of your dressing room, her eyes glued to her phone as she typed furiously. You watched her in the mirror as your hair stylist put the finishing touches on the style that was supposed to look effortless. Almost as if she could feel your stare, Agatha looked up from her phone to meet your eyes in the mirror. You felt heat rise up to your cheeks as your own eyes widened, standing up a little to quickly. Realizing once you were up that you didn't have a reason for such a reaction.

Wanda burst into the dressing room, her red dress sparkling in the light.

"They want us to walk on stage together, shall we?"

Wanda held out her elbow for you to hold on to, winking in an exaggerated way. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Agatha's intense glare at Wanda but decided that you weren't going to let your manager's weird behavior affect this interview. You hooked your arm through Wanda's, playing along.

"We shall!"

Agatha followed behind the two of you, her stare burning into the back of your neck as the two of you walked onto the stage, cuing the raging applause and cheers from the audience. Agatha stayed off-stage, watching with crossed arms and an expression that could take down the toughest of tough.

The lights were burning and bright as you and Wanda took a seat next to each other across from the interviewer. You immediately regretting your choice in seat as Agatha stood across from you in the wings, her stare like ice as it stuck to your skin. Taking a deep breath, you plastered on a wide smile as you were introduced. Purposefully ignoring Agatha, you focused on how the interviewer angeled her body towards Wanda, indictating who she would be asking a question to first.

"Ok, I got to say," Darcy Lewis, the host of this show, threw her hands in the air as if she was giving a confession, "I can't ask any questions about the movie until I get confirmation about something that's happened in your life recently, Wanda."

Wanda smirked, obviously understanding where Darcy was going, You, however, were confused, your eyes flickering between Darcy, Wanda, Agatha, and the audience, hating the feeling. Your smile stayed plastered on, not wanting to reveal your confusion. Wanda met your eyes and reached over to cover your hand with hers, her left hand on top almost purposefully. You looked down to see a beautiful ring with a braided band of gold set with a sparkling diamond of reasonable size.

"Oh my god!" You gasped out, grasping Wanda's hand and bringing it embarassingly close to your face. Wanda and Darcy laughed, the latter clapping as her vague question was answered in a hilarious way.

"I can't believe it's taken you this long to notice!" Wanda laughed out, tugging her hand back to marvel at her ring herself, "I've only been parading it around for a week!"

You flushed with embarassment, a real smile painting your lips as you covered your face with your hands. After the crowd calmed down, Wanda confirmed outloud what the ring symbolized.

"A little over a week ago, my long time partner, who I met on this set by the way, proposed to me in the park we had our first date. Oh, he was so nervous but I couldn't let him finish his speach I was so excited! Obviously I said yes."

You wanted to give your friend a giant hug but decided against climbing over the arms of the chairs, choosing to keep your dignity as you didn't want your dress to ride up too much.

Darcy continued with the interview, the air of the stage light and friendly as you and Wanda evaded questions and made jokes about being trapped in these roles until you're 90. You realized once the interview was almost over that you couldn't feel Agatha's stare on you anymore. Since you had been actively avoiding the spot she was standing in the whole time, you hadn't notice her slip away. A spark of anger lit in your chest as memories floated around your mind. What had you done that she deemed worthy enough to sever your relationship?

You were surprisingly thankful when the interview was over, everything becoming a blur as you made it back home. Wanda had a date with her fiance, Vision but told you that she wanted to get coffee the next morning. You already knew you would be needing that coffee, as you had a few pages of script to begin memorizing for a cameo scene you were doing for a spin-off show of Pillars.

You wanted to just curl up on your couch and binge watch old Disney movies but you forced yourself to walk in circles around your living room, script in hand as you acted out your scenes. A few hours in, you were getting frustrated. Your mind just wouldn't grasp the script, each line entering your mind quickly but leaving even quicker. You were about to learn how to use your fireplace just to burn the papers when your door shook with someone knocking. It was rapid, almost desperate and it sent a sense of urgency pooling in your gut. You practically ran to your door, afraid of what you would see on the other side. Did someone die? Oh god, hopefully Wanda and Vision didn't break up that would be awful-

The door swung open.

It was Agatha.

Her eyes were ablaze with an emotion you couldn't pin point, her hair was a mess but it only added to her beauty, and she was gripping her phone so hard in her hand that her knuckles were white.

You were frozen in the doorway, your eyes wide and your jaw slack. Agatha just stared back at you, her chest heaving as if she had ran all the way to your home. Blinking, you broke yourself from your trance, and against the voices in your head that sounded suspiciously like a specific redhead, stepped to the side to let Agatha in. She barged in, going to stand in front of the couch, arms crossed as she continued to stare at you. Wringing your hands, you decided you wanted to mend what was broken.

"I'm just practicing for the shoot in a week, would you help me? I can't seem to get-"

"Were you ever with Wanda?"

Her sudden question made you choke on your words and you were back to being frozen, the script falling dramatically from your hands. Agatha came to stand in front of you, her face inches from yours. Your tongue was heavy with shock and all you could do was shake your head in denial.

Why was Agatha asking this? Did she like Wanda? That would explain why she wouldn't be happy with you, as you had grown closer to the redhead throughout the years and Agatha didn't.

Something clicked in your mind, reversing your sinking stomach into nervous butterflies.

But if she liked Wanda, why would she be glaring at her? Unless, the person Agatha liked wasn't the now engaged redhead and was-

"Y/N, please, I need you to answer me."

Agatha voice contradicted her body language, her words broken and shaky, as if she was afraid of a potential answer. Her hands flexed in the postition of her crossed arms, as if she wanted to reach towards you. You took a deep breath, preparing your answer.

"Is this why you started avoiding me? Because you thought I was with Wanda? I've only ever been her friend, Agatha and we only grew as close as we are because you stopped talking to me! God, I thought you hated me!"

Agatha's eyes lost their iciness and filled with panic instead. Her hands shot out and grasped your arms.

"Hate? No, I love you! I though the giant annoucment at the interview would be that you were in a relationship with Wanda! I didn't want to ruin your relationship with her because of my feelings!."

You shrugged Agatha's hands off your arms and took a step back.

"So you ruined ours? All because you thought your feelings were unreciprocated?" Agatha's eyes lit up with hope at your words, "Wanda's been with Vision for years, all you had to do was open Google!" You had started to raise your voice towards the end, all your frustration being let out at once. Agatha shrugged sheepishly as she slowly stepped to once again be close to you.

"I didn't want to be right."

Agatha smiled nervously as she brushed a hair from your face.

"I didn't know what to do and I'm terribly sorry for how I acted. God, Y/N, it hurt seeing you with someone who wasn't me. I thought you just wanted to be friends. "

Her whispered apology melted away the ice that had been hardening your heart for protection and you reached up to cup her face in your hands. Agatha leaned into your touch, her eyes closing for a second before opening and almost blinding you with how much hope was shining towards you.

"I loved being your friend and it really hurt me when you took that away but," you smiled at Agatha, shifting to be even closer to your manager, "I would love to be even more."

Agatha smiled softly, her eyes saying everything her words couldn't. Her smile melted into a smirk as she leaned in, your hands falling from her face so your arms could wrap around her neck.

"I would really love to make up for lost time."

You barely had finished nodding before Agatha's lips crashed into yours, consuming you. Her hands now cradled your face as you kissed, her tongue battling with yours. She started walking, directing you towards the stairs, where the door to your bedroom taunted you with it being far. As the two of you stumbled up the stairs, laughter breaking the kiss, you felt Agatha tugging on your dress, the one you still hadn't changed out of. Soon, there was a trail of clothes leading to your bedroom and once you hit your bed, from the look in Agatha's eyes, you wouldn't be leaving it anytime soon.

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

a/n: please tell me u liked this bc i loved writing it :) i love this AU idea and would love to expand on it in the future! i wanted this to be a one shot but the potential in this pairing could lead to a series 👀 thank you so much for reading!! hopefully my writing slump hasn't affected my writing too much but i'm going to keep practicing to get better!!

#agatha harkness #agatha harkness x reader #agatha harkness x fem!reader #agatha harkness fanfic #agatha harkness x you #manager!agatha #actor!reader #famous!actor

104 notes · View notes

beomcoups · 9 months ago

Text

Caller #17

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: basketball player!Soonyoung x college dj reader

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fluff, angst, 90s au

𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: PG-13

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: cursing, talks of tough family dynamics, bit of heavy angst, kissing

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 8.8k

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You could easily name 10 things that you hate about him. But when you bond over music and families, you realize there's more to him than meets the surface.

𝐀𝐍: This was not an easy fic. It took me way longer than I planned to write, and the story I had mapped out went in a different direction. I still feel proud of this one, my longest fic yet, and I hope that you will enjoy it too 🥹 This is a part of my very own Now That's 90's collab hosted by me and @mingsolo. Thank you to @wooahaeproductions for reading this over and @hobeemin for making a banner for me at the last minute 💙

“Thank you for calling into C.A.R.A.T radio! What’s your song of the week?” “Bittersweet Symphony by The Verve!” “You got it! Thanks for calling into C.A.R.A.T radio at 526 AM.” Hitting play on the record, the orchestra's melody hits your ears, sending you into an out-of-body experience, your soul floating to cloud nine. The hairs on the back of your neck stand every time the song is played, and you imagine yourself playing the violin, getting lost in the beautiful and complicated sinfonia. Working at the college radio station was your life. It’s the only place to lose yourself to TLC, Nirvana, and Weezer for hours without judgment. You are in your 3rd year of college, getting your bachelor’s in music theory so you can be one of the most prominent songwriters in the world. While everyone in high school didn’t know what they would be doing with their life, you always imagined yourself getting a Grammy for Song of the Year on stage. That is your real passion: creating musical poetry for the masses.

You slowly take the headphones off and set them down, looking at the big clock plastered on the wall. You let out a heavy sigh, sad that your time at the station is ending. You are allotted two hours a day on Saturday as a part of credit for your program. If you had it your way, you would be here daily, listening to your favorite records and writing songs between commercial breaks.

“Hey,” your professor Kim calls out from her office. “Come in here before you leave.”

You gather your things to leave, looking at the station one last time before entering the smaller space. This isn’t her regular office, but it has everything you think you would need: a desk, a comfortable chair, and bookshelves full of books and ornaments for decoration. You have spent a lot of time in here, pitching new ideas for the station and getting turned down every single time.

“What's up?” You sit in the chair opposite of her.

“So we will be introducing a new segment to the radio where callers can call in and ask for advice about anything, and then you can recommend a song based on what they are calling in about.:” She pauses to take a sip of water. “I want you to be a part of it.”

You don’t answer right away. You are peeved that Professor Kim wants you to head any segment. You have never shown any initiative to want to talk to anyone who calls in besides listening to music. It’s just not your thing. You are a loner at heart, and that’s how you plan to stay.

“Why me?” You finally speak up. “There are other people who are better at this than I am. Hell, ask Emily. She has been foaming at the mouth to talk about anything other than music.”

“Because you are who I want,” she shrugs. “I see how you look when you talk about your favorite releases. You go deep with the lyrics and how you can relate that to any part of your life. You are more than the person behind the voice, and it’s time other people see that.” “Well, I am not trying to be the next Oprah or Ricki Lake,” you scoff. I just want to play music, write my songs, and do whatever I need to do for the class.”

“No one said you would be the next talk show anything,” Professor Kim retorted. “This will be considered a project, and it’s worth 20% of your grade. Plus, when you are in the industry and have sessions with the artists about the song's lyrics, don’t you need to talk to them about their life and what they need? Think about that.” You nod, feeling defeated because you know you can’t talk your way out of this. You know she is right, but you will never admit it. “Plus, it’ll be a good idea to get out of your shell and work on those social skills,” she says. “We will start in a couple of weeks, so get your mind ready because before you know it, you will be there.” You nod and leave the office, your stomach grumbling loudly as you put your headphones on and listen to the latest Backstreet Boys release. It’s a quarter past seven, and dusk officially sets in the sky as you walk across campus. Working at the radio station is the highlight of your week, as you can’t play music loud at your dorm without others complaining. Fortunately, your dorm is set where you have your own space, but the walls are thin, and you can hear everything. You considered buying noise-canceling foam to cover your door but were told it was “against” the rules. Whatever. Your stomach rumbles again, and you are determined to get a burger and fries in your stomach and drink an Oreo milkshake. You cross the street, open your bag, and grab your wallet before being met with a screeching halt from a car in front of you, its headlights blaring in your eyes. “What the fuck?” You mouth at the driver. The driver pokes his head out the window, and you instantly recognize him as Soonyoung, the star point guard of the basketball team. His black Jeep is crowded, full of guys and girls, with Usher blasting through the speakers. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t paying attention,” he waves. “Yeah, no shit,” you retort, walking to the end before the car pulls off. Jeers and boos could be heard, but you could care less. People like that always get in your way no matter what. You avoid people like that as much as people, as you don’t want to be mixed in with that crowd. Soonyoung will eventually go pro and live the NBA life, whereas you will be on the stage accepting awards, with millions of people cheering your name.

The segment started as planned, and you sat and listened to every caller asking for advice. Most of them wanted advice on how to ask someone out for a date, makeup, and things you didn’t care about. The only thing that made it worth it was you got to pick the music to go with the advice, which allowed you to show off your taste in music, from Britney Spears to Mandy Moore, Usher, Sugar Ray, etc. It made the time go by faster as well. You look through the glass, and Professor Kim gives you a thumbs up to take the last call. Letting out a sigh of relief, you let the call ring a few times before you answer. “Welcome to C.A.R.A.T radio. You are lucky caller number 17. What’s on your mind?” “H-hello?” a tenured male voice booms through the speakers. You groan, fighting the urge to roll your eyes. “You’ve reached C.A.R.A.T radio! What’s on your mind?”

“Hey. You can use this line to ask for advice, right?”

“Yep,” you say, a bit annoyed. “Whatcha got?”

There is a lengthy pause, your fingers tapping dramatically on the soundboard. You raise an eyebrow at the professor, who shrugs and walks out of your view. You hear shuffling in the background, followed by what sounds like something being sipped from a cup.

“S-sorry, I am a bit nervous,” he apologizes. “It’s my first time calling in.”

“It’s alright,” you reassure him. “I know how it is. How can I help?”

“So I already have this path carved out for me by my family and everyone who cares about me. Sports is all I have known all my life, and I have worked very hard to get here.” He stops for a brief second. “Everyone expects me to act like this all-star college boy, and no one ever talks to me about anything else than sports, and I am starting to hate it.”

“Do you mind telling me what kind of sports you’re in?”

“I play ball.”

“Okay, that's good. Well, what is it that you want?”

“I’m tired of being what everyone wants me to be: this golden retriever everyone loves. I just want to be me.” You understood how he felt. Maybe not in sports, but people pushing you to be something you’re not. You come from a family of doctors and lawyers who expected you to be the same. “Get good grades so you can get into an Ivy League school” is all you heard growing up. When you were seven, you expressed interest in music, sitting in front of the family piano on Christmas and playing Jingle Bells, which you learned on your own. Your parents cared for a while, putting you in piano lessons and taking you all over the state for recitals. They figured if you kept this up until high school, it would look good on college applications, but nothing that they took you seriously for. It wasn’t until you learned how to play the guitar in secret that you fell in love with how the strings strummed against your fingers that you realized that your passion is music. Thanks to your choir teacher, you had a good voice and kept it in tune while practicing writing music. You soon sang in front of the school, getting high praise from people all over for your voice and how you would “make it big one day.” Your parents insisted that it was just a phase and that eventually you would become a doctor and make a “real” living. You were determined to prove them wrong by applying to one of the best music schools and getting in on a full ride. You did that, but it came with a cost: being cut off by everyone in your family but your grandparents. They believed in you from the beginning and made sure you were okay. You will pay them back in tenfold one day. “Hello?” the deep voice cut through your thoughts. “Y-yeah, sorry,” you snap back into focus. “Do you want my advice?” “Yeah, I do,” you hear him clear your throat. ‘I think you should be who you want to be. It may feel a little different at first, but eventually, you will be happier being yourself.” “I mean…” he pauses for another second. “How do I go about that? How do I show people the real me?” “Hmm,” you think out loud. “Why don’t you try easing into it? Start a random conversation about something you are interested in that no one knows about. Gauge their reactions, and if they treat you weirdly, then start making new friends. It might be a little harder with your family, but they will come around. But either way, it’s exhausting having to hide yourself at the time. It’s the 90s and a new era!” “Yeah,” he says slowly. I’ll try that.Thanks.” “No problem!” You say. “Check out this song that’ll hopefully speak to your heart. This is me signing off on CARAT Radio, 800am.” You played “You Gotta Be” by Des’ree, a personal favorite, closing out the end of your segment. Admittedly, it wasn't as bad as you thought it would be. Sure, some questions were annoying, but it allowed you to pass on music to people and help them get over whatever. You can’t call that a total loss. You push the mic to the side and leave the room, checking in with your professor before leaving. “Great job,” she leaned back into her seat. “You were well-spoken and composed, and the music selections were excellent. Have you thought about being a radio DJ?” “NO,” you snort. “I want to be more behind the scenes, writing songs and getting Grammys.” “Okay, okay,” Professor Kim chuckles. “But don’t rule it out. You are a natural at it.” You nod and head out the door with a small smile. Getting complimented about your work feels good, but you rule out being a radio DJ. You deal with people if you have to, but you prefer to have time for yourself a lot of times. You’re just introverted like that. However, that last call was in the back of your mind. You just want to live and succeed at your dream job. It was nice knowing someone out there felt the same way you did.

Before you knew it, a few weeks had passed, and you had secretly liked doing the segment every Saturday, talking to people from different backgrounds and listening to their troubles. You had a song for every call, and you bragged to your professor at the end of your shift that you had impeccable taste. The analytics showed that more people were tuning in during your segment than at any other time on the radio. Not gonna lie; it stroked your ego quite a bit.

The mystery guy called in on Saturdays, ironically being caller #17 every time. He would call and ask for advice about getting his grades up, coming out of his comfort zone, trying new things, etc. You got to know him a little, see how he solves problems, and see his sense of humor. You have no idea what he looked like, but you imagined he was just your type, like a Keanu Reeves, Theo Mizuhara, or Merlin Santana. Is it crazy that you sometimes daydream about a man you never met?

Today was the last day of the advice segment, and everyone called in with their usual advice and well wishes. Like clockwork, the mystery guy was caller #17. His breathing was labored when you answered, followed by a clunk of metal hitting the floor. “Welcome to C.A.R.A.T radio. You are lucky caller number 17. What’s your damage?”

“H-hey.” You know it was him; the sound of his voice was familiar to you. You shift in your seat, sitting straight and placing your elbows on the desk. You try to keep a poker face, your professor watching you with curious eyes. “Hey there,” you clear your throat. “How can I help?” “I heard today is the last day to ask for advice,” he says. “I can’t say I won’t miss calling and hearing your voice every Saturday.” “Oh yeah?” you chuckle. “ That’s good to know. Well, what is the last piece of advice that I can give you?” “So, there is this girl,” he starts. “I really like her. She’s cute, a bit of a hard ass, and I really like her mind. She’s not like anyone that I’ve met. How do I ask her out?” “Does she know you exist?” “Yeah. I almost ran into her once, but we talked a lot.” “Ah. Do you think she might like you?” “I-I’m not sure,” he stutters. “We get along and everything and we have some things in common. I just don’t know if she would be into me.” “Okay, well, it wouldn’t hurt to ask her out? The worst that can happen is that she says no; at least you’d know.” “Yeah,” he sighs. “I’m nervous as hell, that’s all. Have you dated anyone before?” You are taken aback, your professor raising her eyebrows through the glass. You nod, licking your lips before responding. “I’ve dated here and there,” you say slyly. “It wasn't anything serious. What about you?” ‘Um, yeah, I have,” he snorts.

“Well, there you go then, tiger.” You’re clearly entertained by this conversation. “Remember how you felt when you asked the other girls out, and apply that same confidence to this girl. You never know. She might say yes.” “Okay, I will take your word for it. Thank you.” “Not a problem!” You beam. “Here is the last song I leave you with: ’ 4-page letter’ by Aaliyah. Have a good night, ya’ll.”

You play the final track of the night, setting down the headphones while Professor Kim claps her hands in applause. You roll your eyes playfully, pushing your chair onto the desk and exiting the booth. You feel light as a feather, dopamine taking over your body as you meet your professor in her office. “Great job,” she smiles. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?” “Maybe,” you plop down on a chair. “It was fun giving out music suggestions.” “Mhmm,” she nods. “Well, get out there and enjoy your Saturday. I will see you in class on Friday.” You grab your things and leave the station, your stomach rumbling and your mouth parched. It’s after 8, and the nearest thing open is the local pizza joint with the best pepperoni pizza with the cheesiest cheese you’ve ever had. You go there often, and the owners, Dante and Gabriella, get your order ready before you sit down. “The usual?” they always ask, knowing that you are a creature of habit. Aside from your grandparents, they were the closest thing to family to you, always making sure your pizza was hot and crispy with a tall cup of Coke to go with it. They asked about your studies, and Gabriella always asked when you’d get a boyfriend.

“Ah, stop it, amore mio,” Dante jokingly shushes her. “She has all her life to find the love of her life.”

More people started coming in, and they left you to your food and your walkman. You gleefully put Parmesan cheese over your pizza, taking the first bite and feeling instant gratification. A slice of heaven, literally. You take your headphones on, listening to Kurt Cobain croon on Nirvana’s Something In The Way. The “Nevermind” album got you through some tough times, especially when your family cut off communication with you. It hurt you and made you feel isolated and misunderstood. On the outside, your mom and dad put on this persona of being open-minded and willing to do anything for the family. Why were you the exception? You feel the tears well up, and you get yourself together before people start to notice, eating the rest of your pizza before you call it a night. You look around, seeing people on dates or hanging out with their friends, and you miss that. You had friends back home, but you all split up before you went to college. Who knows what their lives are like now. It’s not like you are visiting home anyway. You clean up your mess and walk into the bathroom, relieving yourself and washing your hands before returning to your dorm. You looked at yourself in the mirror: your jean jacket covered your black button-up shirt, shorts, and stockings underneath. Your eyes were slightly red, a contrast from your fresh face. Stifling a yawn, you leave and wave goodbye to Dante, opening the side door and bumping into someone in the process. You look up, facing Soonyoung, his cheerful eyes meeting yours. “We gotta stop meeting like this,” you mutter, backing up and adjusting your jacket. “Yeah, we shouldn’t,” he responds, opening the door to let you out. Your head snaps up, half expecting him to not hear you. You rake your fingers through your hair, walking out of the restaurant. He’s a handsome guy, you can admit that, with his fresh, faded haircut and trendy clothes. You get why he is popular with everyone. “I’m sorry for almost hitting you with my car the other day,” he calls out. “It’s alright,” you turn around. “Just don’t make it a habit.” “Alright.” He chuckles and goes inside, and you speed walk to your dorm. Did I just flirt with him? You think to yourself. What the fuck was that? You aren’t even interested in Soonyoung in that way. You two are the two opposites of each other. You’re clearly losing your mind.

The cool air calms you down, and the slight breeze underneath the moonlight keeps you at bay until you get to your building. It’s Saturday night, and everyone’s out; the only sound being heard is your boots hitting the tiled floor as you walk down the hallway to your dorm. Unlocking your door, you notice an envelope tucked underneath it. You sit on the bed, open it, and pull out a letter. I know this isn't a four-page letter, but I like you. You’re funny, have good jams, and are down to earth. Did I say that you’re cute? I like talking to you every Saturday and don’t want it to stop.

I want to take you out to a concert on Friday. I’ll pick you up at 4 at your dorm. I know you've said yes if you’re there when I arrive. —Caller #17

“What do you think of this?” Your former roommate and good friend, Nikki Prince, holds up a black leather jacket in your size. You asked her to go shopping with you for an outfit for tomorrow's impending date, and you needed another set of eyes. She majors in architecture and design but models on the side thanks to her striking looks. A tall, tanned skin and green-eyed beauty, she now lives with her much older chef boyfriend, Caelan, but whenever you need her, she’s always there. She’s French, stylish, and brutally honest. You loved that about her. “I dig that,” you take it from her and try it on. It fits you just right. It would be chilly, so you bought new boots, a white shirt, and black jean shorts to wear with black stockings underneath. You wanted to be comfortable as you would be on your feet all night.

“Are you sure about this date?” Nikki’s foreign accent comes through. “How do you know this guy isn’t some serial killer? We’ve all seen Scream.” “Gee, thanks, mom,” you roll your eyes. “If he tries anything with me, I’ll just show him the moves I learned from the YMCA.”

“I’m serious. This is risque for you, no?” You shrug, slowly taking off the jacket and heading to the cashier. “I get your point, and if anything happens, I can defend myself. But I have a feeling that it won’t happen.” You greet the cashier and pay for the jacket. “I’ll call you before I leave and tell you about it the next day. Deal?” Nikki nods, and you both walk out of the store, satisfied with what you bought. The mall is busy for a Thursday night, with young adults frolicking at stores like Rave and Wet Seal, looking for the latest fashion trends. The mall isn’t really your scene, as you prefer to thrift shop for your clothes. You have been lucky to find some hidden gems there, especially since you are on a limited budget. Nikki, however, said it was a special occasion, and you quote, “You are not going on a date in someone else’s vêtements.”

You stop at Auntie Anne’s, buying a massive pretzel with cheese on the side, while Nikki opts for a small lemonade. You offer her a piece, which she declines, saying her boyfriend, Caelan, will make her dinner later. “How is that going, by the way?” You sit down at a table. “It’s going good,” she enthuses, raking her fingers through her long black tresses. “He’s so mature and sophisticated. Imagine not having to cook and clean after a man and have good sex.” “Well, yeah, he’s about six years older,” you remark. He better know a thing or two if he wants to keep his model.” Nikki gloats as you finish your pretzel, talking about the elaborate French dishes her boyfriend makes for her and how he worships the ground she walks on. Since you’ve known her, she has always been opinionated and refused to associate with people within your age group. Whenever you see her in the hallways, she always talks with teachers or ignores the lustful looks of college boys. You two got on well because you were roommates, and both were Scorpio risings. You understood each other. “Oh shoot, I better head back to the flat,” Nikki says, looking at her watch. Caelan is going to be home soon, and he is making steak frites tonight.”

“Yeah, I gotta head to the dorm anyway. Early class tomorrow.”

You walk out of the mall into the chilly night air. She offers you a ride home, and you decline at first, saying that you will walk as it's pretty close. But a slight wind blows, bringing chills down your spine.

“Wait,” you shout after her. “I’ll take that ride.”

The ride was short and quiet, your mind occupied with your date with this mystery stranger. Nikki was right, you don’t know him, and he could be this crazy guy. But you’re also excited; the butterflies haven’t left your stomach since Saturday. You feel like you know him, and you don’t even know his name. He is just caller #17.

She pulls up to your building, and you hug her, preparing to run inside and shower. You know Nikki is still worried and means well, even if she sometimes acts like an overbearing old sister.

“Come over tomorrow at two if you can,” you announce. “You can help me get ready and meet my date in case anything goes crazy.”

“Alright,” Nikki seems relieved. “I’ll be there.”

You shut the door and shout your goodbyes before sprinting inside.

“Love you!”

“Yeah, yeah!”

The next day went fast, like a blur. You slept past your alarm and woke up after twelve, making you two hours late.

“Fuck, fuck, FUCK,” you shout as you scrambled out of bed and tripped over a blanket. You throw on a pair of jeans and an oversized sweater from the University, your hair in a wild ponytail as you brush your teeth and high-tailed it out the door. You ran to class, forming an apology along the way, your heart beating out of your chest. You are met, however, with a closed door and a white paper plastered on the door:

NO CLASS TODAY. ENJOY YOUR WEEKEND.

“Really?” You huffed, leaning against the wall. It’s not like you are late for class; your alarm was

set despite you being up late last night. But whatever, fuck it. You aren’t about to let this ruin your day.

The leaves flow softly with the wind as you walk back to your dorm, the sun playing hide and seek in the clouds. All you can think about is tonight and what concert you are going to. Maybe it’s a huge concert, and that’s why he is picking you up early… or perhaps it’s a local indie band at a bar. Your mind runs with endless possibilities, excitement pumping through your veins. You aren’t a hopeless romantic or a love-at-first-sight kind of person, but something about this person makes you feel good… like you finally have someone who can relate to you on some level. Granted, you have only talked with him on the phone, but you have a gut feeling and are rarely wrong about these things. You finally return to your dorm and take a well-needed shower, washing and detangling your hair with much-needed privacy. Your dorm has shared showers; you usually take them when everyone is asleep at night. Fortunately, there were only a few people, allowing you to have time for yourself. You allow yourself to think of the water running down your body as him, his hands caressing your body, his lips maybe touching yours— “Is anyone in here?” You snap out of your daydream quickly, and the water turns cold right on queue. “Y-yeah?” “I am here to clean the showers,” a woman’s voice calls from the door. “O-okay, give me a second.” Cursing silently, you quickly step out and dry yourself, throwing on your robe and grabbing your shower caddy before exiting the bathroom. You are met by an older woman wearing a shirt representing your college and sweats, with cleaning supplies in tow. “You were in there for a while,” she remarks as she sets out the wet floor sign. Do you have a hot date tonight?” “Something like that,” you shrug. You walk back to your room, and to your surprise, Nikki is outside your door. “You’re early,” you remark, unlocking the door. “Yes, I know,” she said. “But we will need more than two hours to get yourself right.” “You act like I can’t dress myself,” you scoff. “I just wanted your company, that’s all.”

“Oh yeah? Mon ami, when was the last time you changed your makeup?” You open your mouth to rebuttal but close it immediately. You hate to say it, but Nikki’s right. It’s not like you are going anywhere besides school, the music store, and the pizzeria. “Exactly,” Nikki says, setting her stuff down on her bed. “I went and got you makeup close to your teint, just in case.” She pulls out brand-new makeup from Revlon from mascaras, concealers, powders, and assortments of lipsticks of my choosing. She also bought nail polishes, saying it was time to add some color to your life. As much as you want to roll your eyes at her, she is right. As harsh as Nikki seems sometimes, she has a big heart and always looks out for you when you least expect it. You know a thing or two about style, but she takes it to a whole different level and isn’t shy about giving advice on it. You appreciate her so much. Being honest with yourself, you are nervous as hell. You have had crushes before, but you have never been pursued like this, where someone likes you enough to ask you out formerly, even if it was via a note. This person cares about your mind or seems to. You aren’t sure how to feel; you want to be excited and have a good time, but you have a wall up for a reason. You don’t want to be disappointed again like your family has. You figured if the people you love the most can abandon you like that, there is no hope for you out there. You lived with that hard truth for a long time, and you were content with that. But god, this guy has you curious. “What’s on your mind?” Nikki finishes with your makeup and hair, gazing at you through the mirror. “Butterflies in my stomach are killing me,” you grimace. “I can’t believe I am even doing this.” “Oh, relax,” she blows a raspberry. “You always do this thing where you talk yourself out of things you deserve. Stop that. D'accord? “Yes, mother,” you tease. She sucks her teeth, and you get dressed, putting on the new clothes you bought and your black leather boots. Checking out your appearance, you are satisfied with your look, and Nikki gives you a thumbs up while she cleans up. Knock, Knock! You look at the door, the butterflies fluttering deeper in your stomach. You look in the mirror one last time as Nikki opens the door, a brief silence followed by a heart chuckle. “Mon ami, your date is here.”

You see him, and you're stunned. It dawns on you why he’s here, and you feel your heart drop all the way to your ass. This has to be some kind of joke. “Soonyoung? What are you doing here?” He walks more into your view, wearing a grey jean jacket with matching pants. His right hand is in his pocket, and he has a small bouquet of irises in his other hand. “I’m here to take you to the concert?” Nikki is behind him, trying to keep her composure and mask her giggles. Of all the people you thought would show up, Soonyoung was the LAST person on your mind. This is the person who was calling in every Friday and wanting to talk to you? Yeah fucking right. “What happened?” you accost him. “Did you lose some bet, and you had to ask me out? Or do you feel bad for almost hitting me with your car?” “No?!” he scoffs, clearly offended. “I mean, yes, I feel bad about almost hitting, but no one dared me to do anything. Do you think I am that kind of person?” “Well, yes.” You wish you could take back what you said, but it was too late. You knew you hurt his feelings, the crestfallen look on his face saying it all. “This was a mistake,” he sighs dejectedly. “Sorry, I wasted your time.” He handed Nikki the flowers and walked away, the air feeling thick and awkward. You couldn’t even look at her in the eyes. You knew you fucked up. “Well, that was awkward,” you huff. “And shitty.” You raise an eyebrow at her, and she stares you down. You don’t want to feel worse than you already do, and Nikki isn’t helping. “Honestly, I think the guy was telling the truth,” Nikki surmises. “He looked like a sad puppy.” You think about this caller #17 guy who would call in every week and share his thoughts with you about everything, with you having to do very little. You think about how scared he felt about being his true, authentic self and how much courage it probably took to ask you out. You know you are a tough cookie to crack and understand better than anyone how it feels to go against the grain and be who you are. “I fucked up Nik,” you slump on your bed. “Yeah, you did.” God, you hate her bluntness sometimes, but she’s right. You need to go find him and make this right. “Do you think he’s still here?” you ask, sitting up and grabbing your purse. “He couldn’t have left that fast.” “Only way to find out is to get off your ass and find him,” she says, pulling your arm. “Go find your guy.” You both rush out of your dorm, jogging down the hallway and out of the building, looking for a silhouette of him. You were scared you missed him and felt defeated, not seeing any sight of him anywhere. Surveying the area one last time, you noticed a black Jeep peeling out of the parking lot. It stops at the stop sign, the second to last car to go. This is your only chance. “WAIT!”

You sprint towards the car, barely meeting him as he is about to turn.

“STOP,” you exhale, relieved that you caught him. “Don’t go.” Soonyoung steps out as you rest your hands on the hood of his car, trying to catch your breath. He touches your arm, his hands soft as silk, sending shocks throughout your body.

“Are you okay?” He asks, taking a good look at you.

“Aside from me about to pass out, I’m good.” You take a deep breath. “Listen. I’m sorry. I was a jerk and an asshole and—”

“MOVING YOUR FUCKING CAR!”

A middle-aged woman leans out of the window and gives you the bird, followed by a slew of car horns beeping in annoyance behind you and Soonyoung.

“Fuck,” Soonyoung curses, realizing the amount of cars behind him. “Get in the car.”

You both get in the car and drive off from the angry drivers, pulling into the nearest gas station. You sit with your hands in your lap, this weight of regret sitting on your chest and guilt eating you from the inside. You look at him, and he seems surprisingly relaxed as if you didn’t reject him

not even thirty minutes ago.

“I’m going to get some gas,” he announces. “Wait here.”

You watch him walk inside to pay and let out the deepest, most agonizing sigh. He should be calling you every name in the book, and rightfully so, as you insulted him. Why is he being so nice? Does he really like you that much?

He returns a few minutes later, shoving his pockets with change left over, and you both lock eyes with each other. In another situation, you would’ve been able to appreciate his good looks, trendy clothes, and tiger-like appearance. But instead, you feel sick to your stomach, disappointed in how you acted. You look down, twiddling your thumbs until he finishes pumping his gas and returning to the car. This is not like you at all. “Hey,” he says. “Hi,” you stammer. “I’m sorry again. I feel like a terrible person, and I shouldn’t have bit your head off like that.” “I know you were intense, but Jesus Christ,” he exhaled. “Why do you think I wouldn’t be interested in you? You made it seem like I lost a bet to ask you out. You made me feel like crap.” Every word felt like a punch in the gut, and you deserved it. Despite your parents' many flaws, they always taught you not to judge a book by its cover, and that’s precisely what you did. You were pretentious and stuck up about him. In some ways, you aren’t any different from them. “I guess…” your voice trails off. “I just saw you as the athlete that everyone is in love with. Your friends, I know the type, and we’ve never really crossed paths with each other unless I was bumping into you or almost getting hit by your car.” “So… you saw me as the very thing I told you I didn’t want to be seen as.” You didn’t have to answer back. You both knew the answer, and it was eating you up inside. “I’m sorry, I am just gonna go.” Before he could stop you, you exited the Jeep and started walking back toward your dorm. You are embarrassed and can never face him again. This is why you don’t don’t talk to anyone. This is awkward; it feels weird. You lose yourself in your thoughts until you reach the street light, waiting for your turn to go. The air is slightly chilly than usual, the smell of the ocean taking over your senses that you would enjoy any other time. Yeah, a walk to the beach sounds nice, you say to yourself just as the street signal turns green. You feel someone’s hand pulling you away, and you twirl around, facing Soonyoung’s back as he takes you back to his car.

“You’re dramatic as hell, you know that, right?” He shouts over his shoulder. “You didn’t even let me respond; you just hopped out like you were on the run.”

You stayed silent. What more could you say? He was right. He opens the passenger side, letting you slide in and shutting the door behind you. A few seconds later, he is on your other side, turning on the ignition.

“You not a terrible person,” he breathes. “A terrible person wouldn’t come sprinting out of their doom in boots and a nice outfit trying to apologize. You said you’re sorry, and it’s fine.” “Is it?”

“I mean, I’ll get over it,” he shrugs. “I wouldn’t have pulled you back here if I didn’t want to be around you. Now, do you still want to go back and forth about this, or do you want to make it up to me by going to this concert?” It’s a brief moment of silence as you seriously consider your options. You can tell Soonyoung is still bothered by what you did, but his small smile clarifies your decision. “Lead the way, tiger.”

He chuckles as he pulls out of the lot, pulling into a line of cars headed in the same direction. The sun starts to set, the golden hour hitting the horizon at the sea. You fold your arms, confused as to why he is being so nice to you, despite you being a bitch to him earlier. You haven’t felt forgiveness in a long time, which feels foreign. Uncomfortable. You hope this feeling will go away as the night goes on.

You mainly rode in silence aside from the music on the radio, and the hour trip to the venue seemed to be double that. You pull up to Bayfront Amphitheater, packed to the brim with people screaming their hearts out to the band onstage. Your heart skips in excitement, realizing what concert Soonyoung took you to.

“The Foo Fighters?” you grin, unbuckling your seatbelt. “I’ve been wanting to see them forever.: “Yeah, I remember you were talking about it on the radio, so I figured why not,” his voice trails off.

Your heart feels like it is going to burst at the seams. This is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for you, and you had the nerve to be a bitch to him earlier.

“Hey,” you clear your throat. “I’m sorry again. I feel really shitty about it.”

“I know,” he says. “Look, let’s just enjoy this concert, and I’ll forget about it, okay?” You nod, walking towards the loud music. The rhythm of the drums and guitar blended together, hyping the crowd. You let Soonyoung lead the way, checking your tickets and guiding you to your seats. The crowd is thick, with the smell of cigarettes and alcohol flowing freely, and everyone is caught in their own zone. You wouldn’t say you are claustrophobic, but being packed like sardines isn’t your definition of a good time. Soonyoung notices your discomfort and grabs your hand, holding tight until he finds your assigned seats. You felt safe with him, a tiny spark in you that made you swoon.

“Are you okay?” He shouts over the noise. “Do you want a beer or anything?” “Nah, I’m good,” you shake your head.

The opening act finishes their set, the crowd politely cheering as the members walk off the stage. There is a small intermission, with people disbursing from their seats to grab drinks or making quick trips to the bathroom. You can feel Soonyoung looking at you, his eyes burning into the left side of your face. You lick your lips and pull strands of your hair to the back of your ear, a blatant attempt at flirting.

“Are you gonna stare at me all night?” You feel bold, turning your body towards him. “I might,” he purrs. “I have a beautiful, mysterious girl sitting beside me.”

“I’m not that mysterious. We’ve been talking for weeks.” ‘Yeah, in front of thousands of people on the radio. Now I have you all to myself, and I want to get to know the real you.”

“Uh huh,” you nod. “Well, I’m always the same on and off air. You’ll see.” “I hope so.” He smiles at you, and gotta admit the man can flirt. Soonyoung is devastatingly handsome, and he’s quick with his words. It excites you. You like being around people you can banter with and not take shit personally. It takes a load off your shoulders, not having to hold yourself back every time. You just want to be you and be free. It feels like Soonyoung is chasing the same thing.

“I wouldn’t have predicted you’d be into rock bands like the Foo Fighters. What made you want to go to their concert aside from me?”

“Well, you might be surprised to hear this, but I actually like the band,” he laughs. “I’ve been following them since their debut.”

“Really?” you say. “That’s cool.” “What?” Soonyoung leans closer, your shoulder barely touching his. “Do I not seem like the Foo Fighters type?” “Aht aht,” you playfully wave your finger at him. “I’m not getting tripped up on that question.” You fell into a rhythm of laughter that felt natural as if you had been doing this all your life. Despite your fuck up, he makes you feel cozy and open. The sun makes one final appearance, shining its glorious light on his beautiful, tanned skin. You can fully admit to yourself that he’s handsome as fuck, taking him all in before the sun dips below the horizon. “No, but seriously, I don’t seem like the type to be into them?” You pause before responding, being careful with your answer. “On the surface, no. But I am learning that there is more to a person than meets the eye.” There is a comfortable silence between you two, the sweet-smelling breeze keeping you at bay as you sit and enjoy each other’s company. You have so much you want to say but don’t simultaneously. You savor this tiny bit of peace with him. “I think I am gonna grab a drink,” Soonyoung gets up suddenly. “Do you want anything?” “Yeah, like a juice or something.” You watch him leave, checking out his ass as he stands in the concessions line. Nice and firm, definitely a football player’s ass. You look away before being caught, watching the crew prepare for the next act. You feel like a young girl who just realized you have a crush on a boy. You’re giddy inside, hypersensitive to everything around you and how you look. You hope he finds you as attractive as he says he does, or if not, keep up the lie a little longer. You’ve been dealt many disappointments in your life, and you can’t let this be one of them.

“Here. I got you a lemonade.”

You gaze up at Soonyoung, carefully grabbing the cup from his hand. He has a cup of beer in the other, sipping before making a face. You laugh in your cup, tasting your sweet drink with some tart. You feel refreshed and a little bit alive, thanks to him. “Ladies and gentlemen, who’s ready for the FOO FIGHTERS?”

The crowd erupts into a roar as the band joins the stage, getting their placements to perform. Jolts of electric excitement course throughout your body, screaming your heart out before the first string is played on the guitar. You’ve always wanted to see them in concert, being a huge fan of Nirvana and following Dave Grohl after. Despite everything, he seems like a rad guy, and

if you ever had the opportunity, you would want to pick his brain and jam out with him. “ARE YOU MUTHAFUCKERS READY?” Dave Grohl shouts into the mic.

You both scream as the first song is played, the drums scratching the excellent part of your brain while the guitars take you to another level. You look at Soonyoung, his attention on the band with his arms folded, in awe of the performance being given. He looks adorable, and all you can do is smile, satisfied that you are in this space and can experience this moment. The band keeps playing hit after hit, the energy around you making you want to levitate in the clouds. You haven’t been this happy in a long time. You reach the last song of the night, and the key changes, the guitars riffing into a song you know all too well. “I want everyone to sing this song with us— this is for the regular heroes out there.”

You feel the emotion and intensity in Dave Grohl’s voice, making you emotional. The song is about the ordinary person and their potential; you wish your family saw your potential. You wish you could share your music with them and see you thrive in the elements you’re most comfortable in. But instead, you’ve been cast out, and as much as you worked hard to get over it, it hurts you deeply. “Are you okay?” Soonyoung looks at you wide-eyed; you’re unaware of the tears trickling down your face. All you want to do is be held and told everything will be okay. As if he read your mind, he holds your hand, his thumb rubbing your palm softly, keeping you anchored in your emotional storm. Nothing else needed to be said between you two; the song lyrics moved your spirit. Kudos, my hero

Leavin' all the mess

You know my hero

The one that's on

There goes my hero

Watch him as he goes

There goes my hero

He's ordinary

“Thank you for taking me to the concert. I had a really good time.”

You sit with Soonyoung in his car, sitting outside of your dorm. You talked about music all the

way back home, singling your hearts out to whatever is on the radio. Soonyoung is surprisingly a good singer, hitting some notes even better than you can. You wonder if he had any training. “I’m glad I was able to make it up to you,” he grins. “Oh, please,” you wave him off. I’m the one who started us on the wrong foot.” “True. But I think you more than made up for it tonight.” “Yeah, yeah,” you roll your eyes playfully. “Can I ask you something?” “Sure.”

“Why were you crying during the concert?” You knew this question would come eventually, but you still felt unprepared. You hadn’t really talked about your family life with anyone besides Nikki, but you were determined to keep it to yourself. But he makes you want to open up. “The song really hits me,” you point at your chest. “I feel every word and every percussion note as it plays. It reminds me of my mom and dad, and I wish they saw me as a normal person with their own aspirations rather than the person they want me to be. It was so quiet that you could hear a pin drop. Soonyoung nodded his head, understanding what you were saying.

“My parents wanted me to be a doctor or a lawyer, and I just don’t see myself doing that. I fell in love with music and singing, and when I shared that I wanted to do songwriting full-time, they made me feel so low. Like I am stupid and naive for wanting a career, I would actually be happy.” You huff, wiping fresh tears off of your face. “I just wanted them to support me, but they couldn’t even do that. Aside from my grandparents, they cut me off completely.” “That’s not cool,” Soonyoung scoffs. “So they just went cold turkey and quit talking to you?” You nod, bitterly reliving the last conversation you had with them before you made no contact. “Why can’t our parents just let us live the lives we want? It’s like they want to live vicariously through us.” “Right?!” You exclaim. “See, you get it!”

“Unfortunately, yeah,” he mumbled. You turn your body to look at him, studying his face and the possible thoughts he is having. You may see more eye to eye than you realize. ‘So, what’s your damage?” You poke at him. “It’s the same as yours,” he revealed. “They just want me to keep playing basketball so I can go into the big leagues and take care of everyone. I am essentially everyone’s meal ticket.” “Well, you don’t have to be,” you say. “You could just say fuck ‘em and live for yourself.” “Easier said than done,” he sighs. “I’m the first person in my family to attend college, and I actually like playing basketball. I believe in it, bleed it, all that… but whenever I am around my folks or friends, that’s all they want me to be about it. It’s like I’m not real. I am a person with complex interests and feelings, too.”

“I know exactly what you mean, tiger.”

You smile reassuringly; you understand that last sentence all too well. Your family would rather consider you the family fuck up, the black sheep, instead of understanding that you wanted different things. Why is that so fucking complicated? You stifle a yawn, looking at your watch and seeing how late it was.

“I really like talking to you and being around you,” Soonyoung confesses. I hope we can do it more.” “Yeah,” you gaze into his eyes. “ I would love that.” He walks you to your dorm, opens the doors, and holds your waist as you walk up the steps. His hands bring jitters and butterflies in your stomach that you hope you can experience more. You know you have a hard, cold exterior on the outside, but deep down, you want to feel love and adoration from someone. You hope Soonyoung can bring that.

You never want this feeling to go away.

“Thank you for walking me in,” you say, unlocking the keys to your room. “I know I was being a bitch early, but thank you for showing me a good time anyway.”

“It was worth it, seeing a smile on your face.”

“Was it?”

“Yeah,” he leans in closer. “I want to see it more.”

His lips touch yours, your chest bursting like fireworks as he deepens the kiss. Your arms rest on his shoulders, feeling natural and comfortable like a glove. He is gentle and kind, not doing too much but making you feel safe and like you can depend on him. It's crazy how one kiss can have you seeing your future.

“We should do that more often,” you joke, leaving one last peck. He chuckles, pulling you into a hug. “We will. I’ll make sure to do it more often.”

“Okay,” you say, walking into your dorm. “I’ll hold you to it.”

#kvanity #kwritersworldnet #svthub #svt fanfic #svt oneshot #svt scenarios #svt imagines #soonyoung fanfic #soonyoung x reader #soonyoung fluff #soonyoung angst #svt fluff #svt angst #hoshi fluff #hoshi angst #hoshi x reader

318 notes · View notes

adrianasunderworld · 1 year ago

Text

More Twst x Stardew things

The Royal Sword Corporation opened one of their stores in town years ago. Crowley hates it. He hates the manger, Ambrose, who wants him to sell the community center so they can open another Royal Sword Business in town.

Che'nya works at Royal Sword Mart. Neige actually got his big break from Royal Sword. He got cast in a commercial for it, and it did so well that he's the face of a whole ad campaign now. Vil is angry and jealous because he also auditioned for that role and Neige got picked over him.

Vil still acts and models, but it's on a much smaller scale compared to Neige. Like he gets hired a lot to do ads and commercials for businesses in town, and in all the neighboring towns, to the point he's kind of a local celebrity in the area. He keeps visiting the city to audition for theater, but so far nothing. He ideally would like to move to the city to pursue bigger roles, but it's just not in the cards now.

The witch that turns your eggs into void eggs at night is Malleus grandma. He gets embarrassed, and has tried convincing her to get a different hobby, to no avail.

Fellow and Giddel are event characters. They get hired to work at the county fair during the fall, and sometimes stop by on the Night Market. There's a quest where you can befriend them so they can move into town, and Giddel can join the other kids on their lessons.

Leonas family is very well off. After his father passed while Leona was still a minor, Falena took custody of him, and he still lives with Falena and his wife, Asha. The Kingscholars were successful in their careers and had plenty of money. Like the farmer, they wanted a change of pace from city life and bought a nice inn just outside of town. Falena runs the actual business while Asha still works as a lawyer. Leona is taking online courses while working at the inn. Ruggie also works there and often has to keep Leona on track.

Ace is a carpenter, and was like Robin, the first person in town to greet you and show you to Ramshackle Farm. And like Robin, he also called your grandpa's house crusty. He also has beef with your cat, Grim. Everytime he comes by to work on something, they have a stare off.

Jade is still interested in foraging, and often gives helpful tips, like what is in season and where to find it. His favorite gifts are any mushrooms.

The mermaid who does a show at the Night Market is Rielle.

Ortho, Najma, and Cheka are like the Jas and Vincent in town. They're the local kids you always see running around, along with everyone else's little siblings, like Jack's brother and sister.

Since there's more than two kids in town in this au, there is an actual school house in the area. It's right next to or is connected to the library, and Clara is the local teacher. Trein helps her out by doing the history lessons. Clara will give the older kids their lessons in the morning before doing their more independent study time and class work in the afternoon while she teaches the little ones. Trein usually keeps an eye on the older kids while they work in the library. It's hard though, Lucius keeps demanding their attention when they're supposed to be doing homework.

Ramshackle is still haunted. There's ghost all over the property, and they mostly show up at night. But they will sometime show up indoors, like in the house, sheds, and greenhouse.

If you marry Leona, he will nap in the greenhouse.

If you marry Deuce, he will work on his bike outside.

If you marry Vil, his post marriage heart event is him going away to work after taking a bigger role. Kinda like Elliot going on his book tour.

If you marry Cater, he will post about living on a farm. He will absolutely make vlog type videos going "My day in the life of a stay at home farm husband."

@mangacupcake @marrondrawsalot @writing-heiress @the-weirdos-mind

198 notes · View notes

lovely-oh-so-lovelyyui · 1 month ago

Text

Toxic till the End DL AU PT 1

I am not someone who knows much about K-Pop. I've really liked the new Rosé stuff though especially her album rosie? In further pondering I can’t help but want to point out how perfect of a face cast it would make for Yui Komori.

Like the make up style is exactly what I envision from Yui, not too bold but blush heavy shiny, youthful makeup. With the douyin type lip gloss AND her ringlets were absolutely perfect. Like tell me that’s not Yui.

So obviously with the singles roll out, I think the last one was “toxic till the end” and it’s such a nostalgic pop sound I missed and the cinematography is everything in the video so I just wanted to write some Human/Idol AU diabolik lovers headcanons based off it. It has been a while since i’ve written anything so bare with me pls. Love u xoxo

I added more disclaimers whilst I was writing this but I have something planned for the other brothers too and something from Ayato’s pov so if this looks a bit unfinished trust there’s more. Lemme know which brothers you want because this AU has ran away from me and become literally massive

So in the human au I’d still say Yui is raised in a church, but she’s super cute right so she gets street recruited by a company and she’s not like a major super popstar but since she was a teenager she does little commercials, dance trends, magazine shoots

She grows quite famous online for her innocent, kind of whimsical, head in the clouds imagery alongside her very pious upbringing I suppose like how Adriana Lima used to say before she was a VS angel she wanted to be a nun.

She used to be in her church choir and eventually her company moves her from just modelling/trainee to being put together with some girls in an idol group.

It doesn’t work out, idk maybe the company doesn’t think there’s enough chemistry within the group dynamics or it didn’t rake in enough money. Anyways Sakamaki Corporations ( see what I did) tell Yui they consider sending her to an Idol Show for more popularity because they think she has potential as a soloist

Uhhhh this is the bit where you can tell all my idol knowledge is completely made-up and from vague conversations with my friends.

I believe sometimes idols are sent abroad? Or maybe sent to accommodations to be kept safe and hidden while they train. So she’s sent to “Sakamaki Mansion” because of her father and the CEO of Sakamaki Corps. were old friends or at least that’s what she’s told.

I don’t want to make the boys live with her…but I’m cooking here #trust

She goes to the same school as them. I think that can stay the same, especially because it’s a night school for idols.

Ciao.

Anyways this is where I think we can insert the toxic till the end music video.

I'm also aging them up so Yui meets Ayato on the precipice of 18 because they plan for her to debut at 18/19.

I will also be incorporating some of the visuals from the actual video

So Yui in her last couple of teenage years is driving (in my country you can drive at 17 don’t question it) back from school to her mansion, where she sees this scrawny boy on the side of the road, with a gym bag swung over his shoulder and a broken bike at his side. She slows down because of his hair.

Yes Ayato is one of the most handsome men she’s ever seen in her life but his hair is in a buzz and it's pink!! And she loves the colour pink!

(again visuals people do you see my vision)

So obviously she says yes and brings him home with her, like this is a little miss romantic and Ayato is her peter pan almost. All her life is routine and lessons and he creeps in all mischief and cheshire cat smirks and she’s smitten.

Ayato is obviously enamoured with her, she’s just so cute and she sincerely seems to care about him. And they make a good pair like the perfect young love.

Ayato with his buzz, scruffy uniform and bad boy reputation who goes everywhere on his skateboard but keeps his hand in the backpocket of his sweet, bubbly church choir/idol trainee gf. They’re a vision to see.

At first he’s quite secretive and he explains to her his family is quite dysfunctional and messed up. Even though they go to the same school he sets up rules like they’re not allowed to ever talk to each other in school and she should absolutely never talk to his brothers and they can’t go on public dates.

At first my little romantic (her rose-tinted glasses paired with actual rose coloured eyes mean all those red flags look like big love hearts) Yui is quite miffed because this is her first ever boyfriend and she really loves him and he’s soooooo charming to her. But it works out quite well because she gets to keep her good student, scandal free rap sheet. And her bf

She knows how fucked up his home life is so sometimes he’ll run away and come live with her and it’s literally a dream for her. It’s so domestic, they have picnic dates in the rose gardens, they swim together in the lake and cuddle up together on warm summer nights whilst gazing at the stars.

Ayato loves holding her hands, kissing her and he always seems to be wanting to touch her in some way or the other. They cook together, or she’s baking something because he keeps getting her to cheat on her diet, convincing her they’ll burn the calories in a different way. And sometimes after school they’ll meet up in the woods to walk home wrapped up in each other and he teaches her all kinds of things, from smoking and drinking to stealing her first kiss. He carries her around like she’s nothing, and he can be so romantic to an annoying teenage boy but she doesn’t care because she’s never been this carefree. He gives her Tiffany rings, and other expensive gifts, dresses her in his clothes, and doesn't want anything from her but her staying beside him. For her first ever exposure to love this is peak romance, his promises of her successful debut and him becoming an athlete where he’s successful enough to openly tell everyone to back off because that’s his girl.

It's a random Thursday where he’s staying over and Yui has fresh flowers and candles lit all over the house. It’s just been a good week, she’s a little tired from practice but Ayato has been an absolute darling. Massaging her legs (it turns into him groping her whilst she giggles trying to get away), he brought some fast food, made an absolute fool of himself falling into the pond and finding out she can’t swim.

So they spent an afternoon where she basically clung onto his shoulders and him wrapping his hands around her waist, whispering into her ears and then he’s teasing her for how red she is. It’s been bliss. They are sat by the fire, he’s in loose sweats and he realises she’s wearing one of his boxers and tanks but it starts raining outside and she flinches at thunder.

I think this is a pivotal moment in their relationships in the warm amber glow, where Yui opens up about being an orphan and hating the thunder because the day her parents left her there was a storm.

Ayato in turn pulls her close, and he’s so close she can feel his breath on her cheeks his hands are around her ears as he’s slowly caressing her cheek telling her she’s fine and he’s here for him. This is her “oh. Oh.” moment because she’s so in love with this boy and she knows it’s him or nothing.

And she can see it in his eyes when he starts opening up about his bruises and how sometimes he lies about them being from skateboarding accidents. When they tell this story much much later everyone assumes Ayato kisses her. What they don’t know is all Yui knew in that moment is that she never wanted to see her beautiful boyfriend so sad again so she leans in to initiate their first kiss.

That's history…or the beginning of the end.

#diabolik lovers #diahell #yui komori #reiji sakamaki #ayato sakamaki #shu sakamaki #laito sakamaki #dialovers #diabolik lovers headcanons #dl headcanons #dl fanfiction #komori yui #sakamaki ayato #ayayui #human au #idol au #Spotify

48 notes · View notes

andy-kuramy · 17 days ago

Text

Teen!José Kanzaki

+ José is currently studying 5th Year in a private high school on Mexico!

+ Has changed highschools at least 10 times in one year because of his father (gets bombarded with fans asking him to ask his father to Sign things for them, and even with his chill attitude, his father didn't wanted him to endure all of that while studying)

+ Hates using the complete uniform of his highschool (Tie, vest, long sleeve shirt, and black moccasins/dressing shoes) constantly taking off his tie and vest, only using his shirt with a few buttons undone

+ And yet, José's teachers never dress code him.

+ Possibly because every time a teacher is around, his vest and tie come out of his backpack in less than a blink of an eye and are back on him.

+ "Failing" Math and science with a beautiful C (2/4 or 10/20 if you want to see it in a bigger scale).

+ Meanwhile, having a field day with physical education and history with surprising A's (4/4 or 20/20).

+ Uses brackets on his upper teeth thanks to an incident while Training .

+ He basically got a bad hit on his mouth and the thing developed like this:

"My teeth hurt now..."

"Dude, let me see your mouth, your dad will kill me if I knocked one of your teeth out of your mou-"

"No no no, I'm fine, just let me go wash my mouth and wait for the pain to go away."

"José, don't be stubborn, come and let me see what happened to you."

"Does it look bad?"

".....You're going to want to kill me"

"More than I already want?"

"Look in the mirror..."

+ Then, the chaos unleashed in the bathroom thanks to an stubborn José wanting to punch the hell out of his friend while screaming at him "......SON OF A BITCH YOU PUSHED MY TEETH BACK".

+ His dad wasn't that happy when he took José to the dentist that day.

+ After that, José uses brackets to fix his teeth, mainly to avoid problems with his bite rather than "have a perfect smile".

+ Still as passionate about wrestling like his adult counterpart, staying up late watching the matches while studying (Tends to give more of his attention to the match till a commercial break appears).

+ Some times gets teased about his brackets (light or medium tease intensity, not to the point of being something of every day), if he isn't feeling that well, he will cover his mouth while talking for a few minutes before speaking normally again.

+ The kind of classmate that:

1) Will forget if you have a test tomorrow.

2) Won't study because he also forgot.

3) Will ask you at 5 in the morning if you studied for the test that he didn't told you.

4) As soon as you tell him that you didn't study he will just accept his fate of re doing the test later on the week.

+ Besides that (and the fact that he loses the track of time very easily while helping you study) He is a decent classmate 6/10 in friend material.

+ If you need a shoulder to rest or a house to spend time, José is already opening his door and telling you to leave your backpack on the couch without any interest.

+ Overall, a decent classmate yet a good friend once you leave the highschool grounds ♡.

So, the first one in the Au is out! :3 I really didn't know how to structure this post since I had too many ideas for José that I mayyybe delayed this for a while.

The good thing is that I finally did it! If you want to ask something about the Au or want to help me with designing/Writing the Hc's for any character, slide into my DM'S or my ask's! (⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍)

Also, The poll to draw the next character is here, in case you want to help decide!

Who is next?

#kengan omega #kengan ashura #kenganverse #kengan #artists on tumblr #traditional art #José Kanzaki #jose kanzaki #josekanzaki #Highschool Au #kengan au #my au art #Au

22 notes · View notes

quietblueriver · 2 years ago

Text

Did I write an AU based on a McDonald's commercial? Somehow, yes. I...I don't even know, y'all. But here's a hopefully fun, fluffy thing.

Ava watches Beatrice walk into the McDonald’s, pristine gray and yellow polo tucked into ironed black pants, and thinks for about the thousandth time that nobody should be able to make a fast-food uniform look that fucking good.

“Yo, Silva,” a pen hits her helmet and falls to the concrete next to her. She doesn’t look but stretches her arm out behind her and flips the bird in the general direction of the voice. “Fuck off, JC.”

“Rude. Stop staring at your girlfriend and get back over here.”

“She’s not my girlfriend.” The response is rote at this point, because he makes some comment every fucking time they hang out here (and, yeah, sure, that’s because every fucking time they hang out here Ava stares at Beatrice or talks about Beatrice or daydreams about Beatrice but whatever) but she still winces at herself because she sounds like she’s five and also because she would rather not have to say Beatrice isn’t her girlfriend.

Reaching down to retrieve the pen, which is one he’d stolen from her earlier anyway, the dickhead, she turns back to him and says, “Go home, JC. I’m done for the day.”

“Aw, Ava, c’mon. We just got here.” It’s whiny and Ava’s the smallest bit endeared, as always, because he’s charming and guileless and really actually wants to spend time with her, even after she dumped him pretty unceremoniously when her interest in him flamed out about three weeks into their sort-of relationship. He’s giving her puppy-dog eyes and she rolls her own because he’s absolutely ridiculous. “We’ve been here for two hours, JC. You have study group with Zori soon anyway.”

He looks like he’s going to protest, but Chanel steps in. “Let’s go, doofus.” She wraps an arm around his shoulders and pulls and Ava smiles at her gratefully until she says, smirking, “Ava has to go make pathetic heart eyes at the pretty girl over an ice cream cone she doesn’t want.” “Hey, I always want ice cream.” It’s…not a great comeback, and she knows it, sighs when Chanel laughs loudly and turns to walk away with JC, a totally rude, “Yeah right,” serving as her goodbye. Ava’s undoing the strap of her helmet when Chanel nearly yells, still walking toward the bus stop, “Ask her out, you idiot!” Ava flinches and looks toward the entrance of the store, but nobody is there to hear the call-out.

Also, though, she’s totally going to do it. She’s going to ask Beatrice out. Today. Right now. Because she wants to and has wanted to for like six fucking weeks and because on Friday some girl, some stupidly hot girl, had been leaning over the counter and touching her and Beatrice had blushed and Ava had squeezed a ketchup packet so hard she’d ruined JC’s white tee and damaged her own dignity pretty badly in front of Mary and Lilith, who is terrifying and who had looked at her like a fucking Orca who had found a bunch of baby seals to snack on. Literally the only thing that had made the night okay was Camila, an absolute saint, texting Ava later to tell her Beatrice wasn’t going out with the girl even though she’d really tried but “Ava get it together already because she’s not going to wait forever and she shouldn’t! She’s great!” She is. Cam’s right. So. Yeah. It’s time.

Ava runs a hand through her hair and trades her helmet for her favorite cap, putting it on backward and clipping her helmet to her messenger. She takes stock. She’s wearing denim shorts and a black crop-top underneath one of her favorite button-downs, black and covered in colorful shapes. Her right knee is scabbed over from a fall last week and there’s a hole forming at the big toe of one of her black-and-white checked Vans. She wiggles her toe and sees the threads move, the tip of her lime green sock poking through. She looks like herself. She looks good.

She pushes her shoulders back and walks out of the park and into the parking lot, board in hand. It’s a Monday afternoon and school hasn’t let out yet, so when Ava walks in, dropping her board into the little stand by the door, hardly anyone is there. She sees a very stressed woman with three small children by the indoor playground and a dude messing with his phone and eating fries in the corner and that’s it. It’s great, because it means Ava won’t feel bad about trying to keep Beatrice talking to her for as long as possible (she really, really has it bad) but it’s shit because it means she has no buffer time.

And yep, she’s almost immediately greeted with an amused, “Hello, Ava.” Leaning against the drink station and looking like she’s about to have a really good time is Mary. Ava sighs and smiles, waves a little and fortifies herself for the shit she’s about to take. At least Lilith isn’t on today.

For reasons she isn’t totally clear on but thinks boil down to “queer fam helps queer fam get jobs,” this McDonald’s is staffed by like half of her History of Medieval Spain seminar. She’d felt like she was in a very realistic and mundane dream two weeks into the semester when she’d walked in from the new skate park to get an ice cream cone and been served by the hottie with color-coordinated notes who sat next to her on Tuesdays and Thursdays from 9:30 to 11am while the also hot but absolutely terrifying woman who sat across from her glaring at everyone filled fry containers and the smoke show who sat next to her manned the drive-in. (How her History of Medieval Spain seminar came to be fucking stacked with hot queer women is less of a mystery—Professor Suzanne “step on my throat” Superion draws a very particular kind of student and Ava couldn’t be happier to fall into that category.)

Mary makes a tv-gameshow-style motion at the soda machine behind her, as if offering a prize. “Thirsty?” She’s so fucking smug, and she’s also depressingly right, which makes it way worse. Ava looks at the children now snacking at the table with their keeper and resists the urge to flip Mary off, sticking her tongue out instead because she’s very mature.

Before Mary can respond, they’re interrupted. “Hello, Ava.” Ava smiles automatically, turns in the direction of the voice so fast she’s at risk of whiplash and blurts, loudly, “Hi Bea!” She bounds over to the counter and leans against it, palms pressed flat and body tilting forward. It’s a genuinely innocent act; she just wants to be closer to Beatrice, who’s standing behind the register. But she watches Bea’s eyes drift down and then guiltily snap back up and she knows that the position combined with her top also does great things for her tits. She preens a little, self-confidence growing, and says, “How’s my favorite ice-cream-magician-slash-Religious Studies-major today?”

It’s a lot, but whatever—she’s way past pretending she’s anything other than a lot and anyone who has an issue can go find less. And anyway, it gets exactly the reaction she wants: Beatrice’s cheeks tinge pink at her enthusiasm, a small, pleased smile appearing on her face like it does nearly every time Ava says something even remotely complimentary. It’s a little weird, because in class Beatrice is like, model student who knows it. She always pays attention and makes points so good that Superion writes them on the board and operates with a general level of confidence that does embarrassing things to Ava. Outside of class, though, Beatrice kind of folds into herself. It seems almost like she isn’t used to people seeing her, remembering her, being glad she’s there, and Ava thinks that’s fucking wild and absolutely wrong.

Beatrice deserves someone who will be loud about her. She thinks of the girl from Friday, with her beautiful cheekbones and her wandering hands, and of Beatrice’s blush, the one Ava did not appreciate seeing directed at someone else even if she was, in the better parts of herself, very glad to see Beatrice getting the attention she deserves. And, yes, totally, Beatrice deserves all of the attention but she wants to be the one who gets Beatrice’s attention. And she wants to be the one who gets to be loud about Beatrice in a respectfully possessive way. If Beatrice is down, of course. The girl in question is still smiling at her, and Ava’s body leans even further forward on instinct, drawn to the stupidly perfect human in front of her. Her palms catch her weight, her feet lifting slightly from the ground. Beatrice’s eyes don’t wander again, sadly, but her head tilts in this way that Ava thinks indicates affection, and she’ll take that, for sure.

Bea’s voice is teasing as she asks, “Do you know a lot of Religious Studies majors?”

Ava grins at her, grins bigger when Beatrice angles just slightly closer, which Ava might think was an unconscious move if Beatrice weren’t maybe the most intentional person on the planet (there are at least four colors in her highlighter system and Ava’s 95% sure she irons her t-shirts). “Nope. But I don’t need to to know that you’re my favorite and the best.”

Mary says, loudly, “I’m going on break.” She passes by them and adds, enjoying herself way too much, “Beatrice, I was just asking Ava here about a drink. I’m sure you can also see she’s incredibly thirsty. Must be the skateboarding.”

Ava glances at the kids, still working through a pile of french fries, and puts her feet back on the ground, angling her body against the register so that she can flip Mary off and keep it shielded from tiny human eyes and from Beatrice. She wants to tell her to lick rust. She says, instead, “Thanks so much for your concern.” Mary keeps her shit-eating grin and saunters outside.

When she turns back to the counter, Beatrice is looking over the register at Ava’s hand in amusement and okay so Ava apparently hadn’t hidden her finger as well as she’d thought but at least Bea seems to think it’s funny instead of off-putting. She had once admonished Ava, totally unironically, when Ava had let fly an admittedly impressive string of curses after realizing she left her coffee sitting on a table in the student union. The tone of that ”Language, Ava” had made Ava’s stomach drop in a very unexpected and pleasant way.

“The usual?” Her eyes are really fucking pretty.

“Yep. Yeah. Please.” As Beatrice turns to grab a cone Ava gets her shit together. Right. Yes. Go. “Actually, Bea.” She turns back holding a cone and smiles, eyebrow raised in question as she waits, and Ava wants to kiss her. “Would you want to go out with me sometime? In, like, a date way?”

Her smile is gone then and she’s blinking slowly and oh shit, did Ava mess up? Was Bea not interested? Was Bea not gay? There’s no way Beatrice hadn’t noticed her flirting because she had literally never been subtle and also Bea had just been staring at her boobs and talked to Ava and smiled at Ava and blushed at Ava more than anyone else? Or anyone else Ava had ever seen. And Cam said! And Mary wasn’t mean enough to let her make an ass of herself, right? Not like this. Lilith, maybe, but…

Ava has become distracted, staring at the kid’s meal toy display to Bea’s right as she spirals, and when she looks back, Beatrice’s mouth is twitching and her eyes are bright with amusement, and oh, shit. “Um,” she tries to run a hand through her hair and hits her hat. Smooth. “So, exactly how much of that did I say out loud?”

“I apologize for so obviously staring at your chest earlier.” Her tone is at least half genuinely apologetic but the rest of it is amused? Delighted? Something in that range and definitely at Ava’s expense and that’s fair given the gay panic monologue she’d apparently just spouted at her crush in her place of work.

“Jesus Christ,” she mumbles as she tilts her head back and rolls her eyes to the ceiling. After a breath she forces herself to look at Beatrice, who is fully smiling now. She throws the cone away and steps toward Ava again and then her hand is on Ava’s forearm, which she had crossed with the other over her chest in what was a totally ineffective attempt at self-preservation. Hard when the attack is coming from your own fucking mouth. Beatrice’s hand is warm and her fingers are calloused and Ava short circuits (whatever fucking circuits are left) at the contact, staring in disbelief until Beatrice says softly, still amused, “I would love to go out with you sometime.”

“Yeah?” It’s the most she can manage. The fingers over her arm squeeze just slightly and Ava knows if Bea pushed even a little bit she’d fall right fucking over. “Yes.” Warm brown eyes meet hers as she takes her hand back. Ava misses the contact immediately.

“Cool. Um, maybe Thursday? Dinner?” Bea doesn’t usually work Thursdays and Ava’s shift at the gym near campus ends at 3pm so she’ll have time to go home and shower and lose it a bit over what to wear but not so much time that she’ll be able to talk herself into a full panic.

“Thursday works perfectly.” Ava pulls her messenger around and rummages for her phone, pulling it out and handing it to Bea. Based on what she knows from class and a lot of longing stares, Beatrice keeps all her stuff as neat and tidy as she keeps her uniform. So, she’s pretty sure her own phone is something out of Bea’s nightmares. One corner of the screen is shattered and scratches dot the rest while the back, an ice blue color Ava really likes, is covered in spidery lines from way too many drops and impacts suffered in Ava’s pocket at the park. Still, she can’t be fucked to get a case because it’s pretty and sleek and smooth(ish, at this point). Beatrice’s lips purse slightly but she says nothing, taking it, entering her number, and calling herself before handing it back. She removes her own phone, in its pristine black case, and immediately creates a new contact.

A group of teenagers comes through the door, loudly, followed closely by Mary, and Ava watches as Beatrice sets her shoulders. It’s very cute. Ava is going to date her. Incredible. “I’ll text you.”

Her smile breaks and her face is suddenly concerned. Ava’s nervous until: “Your ice cream. I completely forgot.”

Ava grins and waves her phone, nearly drops it and is stupidly charmed by the little flinch from Beatrice at the fumble. “Got something way sweeter.”

Beatrice shakes her head and half hides a smile, cheeks pink. Ava’s feeling very proud when she hears a loud groan from Mary, who’s stepping behind the counter again. “Absolutely not, Silva. Get out of here with that.”

Ava smiles at Beatrice one last time before basically skipping out, grabbing her board. She almost eats it three separate times because she’s so distracted on the way home, but she’s not even a little mad about it.

It’s both awesome and kind of torture to see Bea the next morning in class. They sit next to each other, like always, and Ava manages to keep it mostly together, flirting only slightly more than usual and letting her knee press into Bea’s below the table for most of class, the barely-there red under her freckles the only sign she’s even aware of the contact. She works an extra shift on Wednesday because she wants that date money and JC could give a shit about giving it up, only works because his parents make him even though they give him a shit-ton of spending money anyway.

It’s a bummer not to see Bea but she’s also texting her kind of non-stop. She started Tuesday night when she got home:

What’s Dracula’s favorite ice cream?

She didn’t expect a fast response, imagined Bea was busy with the flood of students and families who came in after work and school, so she was a little surprised to see Bea’s name pop up twenty minutes later: Blood orange?

Have you had blood orange ice cream?

No, but I am sure it exists. Not the answer then?

A good guess but no. It’s…

Vein-illa

Three eye roll emojis. And then a truly terrible joke about snails. It had gone on from there, intermittent jokes and also little snippets of actual conversation. It’s still happening Wednesday night as Ava gets ready for bed. She settles and then nearly hurls herself out of bed in excitement when she reads Bea’s latest text: Goodnight, Ava. I’m really looking forward to tomorrow. From most people, it wouldn't be much, might even be discouraging. Ava knows Beatrice well enough at this point to know that from her, it might as well be fifteen firework emojis and twenty-seven exclamation points. She doesn’t bother to play it cool, as fucking if she would do anything other than encourage way more of that, and sends back immediately: Night, Bea. Me too. Really really. Along with three mutlicolored hearts.

She knows something is wrong the next morning when she gets to class because Beatrice is waiting outside of the classroom staring at her shoes and gripping the straps of her backpack (both over her shoulders, tightened evenly) as if they’ve personally offended her. When Ava gets close, Bea looks up and smiles unevenly and says, “I’m so sorry, Ava. I can’t go tonight. Lilith got the flu and I have to cover her shift.”

It sucks, of course, but Bea’s looking at her like she’s done something unforgivable, like she’s waiting for Ava to tell her off. Not for the first time, Ava wonders where exactly Bea comes from and what kind of shitheads she’s used to. She walks closer, slowly, smiles as gently as she can and takes a risk, reaching forward to tuck an escaped strand of Bea’s hair behind her ear and letting her hand skim Bea’s jaw as she pulls back. Bea’s eyes are big and her face is more relaxed, even if she does look a little confused and her hands are still white-knuckling the straps of her bag.

She keeps it simple, pretty sure Beatrice needs it. “Wanna try for this weekend instead?”

A few people file past them into the room and Ava knows they need to go sit or incur the wrath of Superion, whose anger is hotter in theory than in practice. She takes another chance, reaches up to tug at Bea’s left hand and laces their fingers. When Beatrice allows it, flexes her fingers lightly between Ava’s, Ava pulls them into the classroom, smiling a little at Bea’s still-wide eyes. She appears to have come back to herself by the time they reach their seats, squeezing Ava’s hand in an intentional way before taking off her backpack and settling in. As Superion gathers her notes, Beatrice leans closer, pressing her knee into Ava’s as she says quietly, “How does Saturday night work for you?” Ava beams.

Saturday morning she ends up, surprise surprise, at the skate park with JC, riding a little aimlessly and doing some reading for her Russian Lit class while he dicks around in the bowl. When he dips after a few hours, elbowing her just a little too hard as he tells her to have fun with Beatrice that night, Ava smiles like an idiot while he laughs.

Her stomach rumbles around noon and as she eyes the empty drive-thru, she makes a plan. Yeah, okay, so she’s gonna see Beatrice tonight but she wants to see her now and she’s right there and also, Ava’s legit hungry and it’s not even busy. So. She’s gonna get a fucking cheeseburger.

When she pays, Camila grins and Ava shrugs one shoulder as she says, “Cute, Ava.” When she rolls up to the window, Beatrice blinks in surprise and then shakes her head a little and the edges of her mouth tick up. “We’re not supposed to let you order on foot you know.”

Ava takes the burger and pops her board conspicuously. “Four wheels, baby. Totally counts as a vehicle.”

“Pathetic, Silva!” Mary calls over Bea’s shoulder and Ava shrugs again, winking at Bea before she rides off.

It takes her no time to finish the burger, and there are still no cars in the line, so she finds herself ordering fries, smiling at Camila as she laughs and bracing her arms on the window as Beatrice gets her order, her cheeks a shade darker this time around. Ava tips her helmet at Bea and says, as she takes her snack, “I only have fries for you.”

“Get out of here immediately with that.” Mary’s closer this time, swats at Ava from around Bea’s back, but the look on Bea’s face is open and affectionate and she’s so fucking handsome and Ava wants more of it. A lot more of it.

It takes slightly longer to finish the fries but luck is on her side because it’s still slow when she does, so she rolls through yet again. When Beatrice hands her the coffee, both eyebrows raised but still blushing, Ava says, easy, “I got thirsty.”

“You’ve been thirsty, Silva. Go away.” There’s no bite to it, and Mary doesn’t swat at her this time, just turns and walks toward the fryers shaking her head. Turning her attention back to Bea, Ava fidgets a little as she asks, “See you soon?” Bea bites her bottom lip and nods and Ava thanks bisexual Jesus that she only nearly face plants on her way down the drive.

It gets busy, of course, so Ava parks it outside and finishes her coffee and reads. She’s getting ready to go change for her date date date when she hears, “Ma’am. Your ice cream.” Ava’s up in a second, delighted as Beatrice holds the cone out to her and ducks her head. Ava can’t help but stare as she takes it, feels some drip down onto her hand. Beatrice’s hair is down, over one shoulder, and the sun is setting and wow .

“Your cone is going to melt.” Beatrice is looking at her now, a little flustered. “I might, too, if you keep looking at me like that.” Ava takes her hand, carefully but with more confidence than she had earlier that week, and offers, “Walk you to the bus stop? I know it’s traditional to walk someone home after a date but like, I can do before, too, right?” Beatrice brings their bodies slightly closer together as they start toward the sidewalk. “I’d like that."

#avatrice #sister beatrice #ava silva #warrior nun #warrior nun fic #modern au

355 notes · View notes

tippenfunkaport · 25 days ago

Note

How hard is it to rewrite your fanfic to publish as original? Is there a difference to how you write it?

Anon, I sat on this one a few days trying to think of how to answer this. Because there're a lot of little differences between writing for fanfic and writing original work that I could list but I think it's all really covered by the one biggest thing which is: you need to realize that, in fanfic, readers and canon are doing a lot of the work for you.

In other words, even in the AU-est AU, you're still starting with the basic characterization and world-building of canon. A fanfic reader comes in with a base of knowledge that comes from the source material that you, the writer, can take for granted. They're helping you out by doing a lot of the heavy lifting while reading in a way that a reader coming to something 100% original isn't.

Which is, obviously, a lot of the fun of fanfic! You can just riff on a single scene or do a character study that's light on plot or write missing scenes that make no sense without the context of canon and it's all part of how we play in the fandom space. But when you make the switch to writing for publication, you need to remember that your readers aren't coming in with any of that context and aren't as willing to suspend disbelief upfront.

Think about it. Fanfic can be light on description because you already know what the characters and setting looks like. Fanfic can tread the same beats as canon even when it's narratively unearned because the reader has the background of canon to fill in the blanks. Fanfic can cover the in-between moments or things an editor would consider "pointless" because the readers are already invested in the characters and know how the rest of the story ends.

I think we've all had that moment when someone raves to you about a fic, how it's amazing, life-changing, better than any published book, and you read it and it's... not good. At all. Not the writing, not the plot... BUT you can absolutely see why your friend loved it so much. It centered their favorite character or ship and they were so overcome with blorbo-love that they were willing to overlook all the writing issues. Which can happen with published books too if they get enough hype (just look at some of the recent BookTok darlings), but is far more likely to happen with fanfic because we're all coming into the work high on love for our favorite show/characters/pairing.

(It's been fascinating as an author to witness this first hand bc my fandom friends and I have a book club and it's been so eye opening to watch people nitpick a published book for minuscule issues and then the exact same people turn around a praise a fanfic as the pinnacle of literature that has all the issues they hated in the published book and FAR MORE. The author of the published book has to work harder to not only make you care about their original characters and world, but also sell you on their story while fanfic knows you're already sold on those elements and just here to play. And also people hold something they paid for to a far higher standard to something they are reading for free and allocate praise accordingly.)

Which shows that, in most cases, it's not enough to just file the serial numbers off your fanfic if you want to publish. Because the exact same people who raved about your fanfic would call it derivative/shallow/etc once the names are changed from their favs and they aren't looking at it through blorbo-colored glasses anymore. It's just human nature, absolutely no shade here, but it really sums up the majority of issues you need to consider when making the leap out of fandom and into a more commercial writing space.

It all comes down to: if you've been predominantly writing fanfic, you may not realize that you're used to the combo of the reader and canon itself doing a lot of the heavy lifting for you. And now you need to learn how to pick up that slack yourself.

A reader coming to an original work about new characters they don't know yet is far less charitable when they crack open your book that they paid their hard earned dollars for than a reader who clicked on your free story about characters they already love. A paying reader is less tolerant of narrative downtime, has a higher expectation of quality writing (ie no typos, grammar issues, consistent tense, pacing, tension etc) and needs the author to make them care about the characters and world because they aren't coming in pre-loaded with love for their favorite media.

So certainly not impossible, but re-writing fanfic into something original involves a mental shift, significant expansion and retooling of what's written, and is by no means as simple as just replace all-ing the names as seems to be the popular misconception.

(And this is not going into the legal issues at all because, frankly, if you are really doing the work to flesh your fanfic out as an original work then it's probably so far removed from canon at that point it's unrecognizable. But obviously be smart and don't publish something with someone else's copyrighted characters or world unless you want your ass sued. Disclaimer that I am just a writer, not a lawyer.)

#writing #writer #writblr #fandom #fanfic writer #publishing #asks #fanfiction #fanfic #writbelr #writers on tumblr #fanfic writing #writeblr #long post #text post #writing advice #author #writing community #fan fiction

22 notes · View notes

bbybluemochi · 1 year ago

Text

bbybluemochi's F.A.Q. ✧･ﾟ

Hi! Arun here! I thought that instead of answering your submissions one by one I’d gather all the frequently asked questions and answer them in a single post (this is a mix of art/OC/commissions related q's)!

Please note that I do read all your messages and I’m so grateful for every one of them!!!! I keep all your words really close to my heart, thank you for liking my art and loving my Ocs as much as I do, it means the world to me <3

What’s the name of your OCs?

They’re called Cotton (the blonde one) and Puppy (the dark haired one). The original idea for them was to make some silly wolf/bunny OCs (that’s why Cotton is called like that, it was supposed to be a joke about her tail…) but somewhere along the way they took over and became something completely different!

Is there a webcomic for your OCs?

Not currently! I don’t have the time or the skills (for now) but I’d love to give it a try in the future!

I was wondering if you mind people using your OC art as character art/inspiration for DnD?Just games with friends that are for fun, nothing for commercial.

Go ahead! I find that really flattering.

Just out of curiosity, are any of your OCs bisexual?

Both Cotton and Puppy are lesbians. That’s what I feel comfortable drawing since I’m a lesbian myself. If I ever do draw a bisexual OC I’ll make sure to mention it! <3

I think you said Cotton was a dominatrix in a previous ask, but is Puppy on the opposite side of the spectrum or is she just glad to be there whichever way?

Puppy is very much a sub. They both switch (Puppy as a service top and bottom and Cotton as a top and power bottom), but the dom/sub dynamic never changes. Also I wanted to mention that these dynamics do not transcend outside of the bedroom that much, there’s more to them than their kinks but I do love to draw them deep in their submissive/dominant headspaces.

Are one of the lesbian fairytale characters trans?

I didn’t design either of them with that in mind, but I’m super OK with people headcanoning them as trans!

May I use your art as a header/icon?

Of course! Remember to credit me tho~

Do you allow people to use your art freely?

I don’t allow reposts of my work (not that it matters that much, since almost all my art has been already reposted a million times ))): but I’d really appreciate it if you just shared my posts instead of reposting my art). As for phone backgrounds/wallpapers or stuff like that, yeah!

Do you have an instagram account or other social media, I would love to follow you there.

My main platform is twitter (same @), I post all my drawings there and I’m usually more active over there. Tumblr is kind of like an archive. I really like the community here but I find it easier to reply/interact with people on twitter! As for instagram, I do have an old art account (same @, again) but I haven’t posted in so long. I may start posting there soon if a certain rich guy decides to keep destroying the bird app tho.

I’ve always thought about this… how do you think it’d look if the aesthetics/styles [of your OCs] were reversed?

I’ll have to explore that in a future drawing, I haven’t thought much about it!

Do you write fics for your characters or has anyone else written fics about them?

Not yet! A couple of my friends have offered, tho! I usually like to stick to drawing because that’s what I do best, I don’t wanna subject anyone to my writing (it’s not very good,,,,). When I share some of my Ocs stories, I think it will be in comic format.

What's the story behind your OCs?

There are several, actually!! I like to put my OCs in different universes. As for now, there’s the Fairytale AU, the modern setting AU (this is the original one), and now the Werewolf/Vampire AU. I also did a drawing of them as spiderwoman and black cat but I don’t think that AU is gonna make a comeback for a while. I’m also planning a scifi AU but I’m not sure I’d be able to pull off that aesthetic with my current art style so I’m still working on it.

The Fairytale AU is the one I’m working on most of the time. I wanna release a small artbook with their story + illustrations. That was my main goal for 2023 but life got in the way, so maybe,,, 2024??? *crosses fingers*

Is your shop down? It’s saying that it’s not available.

I open my shop for 1-2 weeks every now and then, that’s why it’s closed most of the time! My plan is to open the store again in september, if i manage to finish all the merch in time! I’ll announce it on my twitter and tumblr account when I do.

Would you ever share a tutorial on how you make your art?

Yes, of course! I’m not very good at explaining my drawing process but If it helps anyone I’d love to! Just let me know what part of the drawing process you’d like me to focus on, because If i try to make a full illustration tutorial it’s gonna be too long/difficult to follow.

May I ask what brush do you use for your lineart?

I use a different brush almost every time I start an illustration, I’m not very consistent when it comes to that (I think it’s mainly because I haven’t found the perfect brush yet!). But let me know what illustration you’re curious about and I’ll try to remember which one I used!

Do you come up with poses off the top of your head or do you use some type of reference? I always struggle with them.

It depends on what I’m drawing! Some of my drawings are reinterpretations of paintings (I’m obsessed with pre-raphaelite painters and arthurian legend paintings in general), so in those cases I try to adapt the poses to my art style. Even If I’m trying to recreate an already existing painting I end up changing the poses/proportions a lot along the way to fit my personal taste/art style.

Other times, I just sketch from imagination (this is more entertaining, I think, since looking at references can make the drawing process a bit tedious). If I find it hard to draw a certain pose/part of the body I will look up references on printerest, no shame in using pictures! If I still can’t find the pose I need I’ll just take a picture of myself (this is like, a last resort for me. I’m too lazy for this).

My personal advice would be to use references for the pose and then tweaking the pose and trying to make it more personal

I love the way the armor was designed and rendered! Can you share some tips on designing armor?

Drawing armor is something I still struggle with most of the time. I think I’ve learned a lot in the past year (please don’t look at my armor drawings from 2022,,,,, sigh) but I still struggle to draw certain poses/angles. My advice is: don’t hesitate to draw non-functional armor!!! There’s always gonna be someone like “actually, that armour makes no sense :)” well !!!! it looks cool as hell so who caresssss !!!!!

I think it’s more important for you to get comfortable drawing armor before you start beating yourself up for not drawing accurate ones. It takes a lot of practice (I’m still learning!!!), especially if you’re trying to draw historically accurate ones, so start by having fun, and then work your way up from there.

Most of the tips I can think about are really hard to explain without a visual example, so let me know if that’d be a tutorial you would be interested in and I’ll try to make one (I’m cringing a little just saying this bc I swear, my armor skills are so bad compared to some amazing artists out there………..).

Do you allow cosplays your OCs?

YES…. YES PLEASE !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! IM BEGGING YOUUU ILL LOVE YOU FOREVER !!!!!! *rattles my cage*

Do you allow fanart of your OCs?

Again,,, PLEASEEEEEEEEE !!! Just tag me so I don’t miss it and remember to give me credits if you do !!!!!!!!!!! :D

I was wondering if you use procreate , clip studio, or similar apps?

A mix of both. I used to draw on procreate only until I got a tablet and now I’m a clip studio user (csp sponsor me please), and now that’s all I use. I’m so used to drawing on PC now that I don’t think I’d be able to go back to procreate, but I still like that app a lot! All my drawings (even the ones I do on csp) always get retouched on procreate because I like some of the effects (*dreamy sigh* chromatic aberration filter,,, love u).

I wanted to know if the marks Cotton has on her waist are tattoos or like a scar?

Those are tats! Puppy is a tattoo artist ~~~ (I’m actually not sure if i’ll keep the waist tats on Cotton or if I’ll end up redesigning them,,,)

I was wondering if you take commissions?

Not right now. I also don’t have any plans of opening commissions any time soon! When I do, I’ll post a google forms on twitter and here on tumblr with the prices and type of comms I do. But there’s nothing scheduled.

Even tho I'm not doing commissions atm, I’m currently looking for illustration jobs (specially book covers), so don’t hesitate to email me at [email protected]

That's all for now, thank you for reading!! I think I covered most of the questions, I'll make another q&a post in the future! Bye~~

#frequently asked questions #faq #ask

245 notes · View notes

ghcstao3 · 1 year ago

Note

I saw your tags, you have challenged me!

Scary Show AU (cw for cannibalism and murder)

Ghost is a very well-known yet still semi-anonymous Voice Actor for spooky shit. There's a huge following for him because, regardless of what role he's playing, he does a phenomenal job. He's only listed in the cast list as "S.R.Ghost"

Typically he plays the role of the creatures in this super popular show called "Cryptid Season" which follows a gang of college kids desperate for extra credit in their Biology class so they hunt cryptids as evidence/to study for their papers. He does the voice over and some of the motion capture (he's a big dude) for the monsters and such, his most famous one being "Goatman" (from the demonic Goatman's bridge in I think Texas?)

Meanwhile Soap is this animator who's starting to become really popular, and he announces a new show in the work: "Consume", where he voices one of the two lead roles. It's presented as a show about a normal, if not very lonely man, being tormented by a demonic presence in his home.

Plot twist: dude's actually a cannibalistic serial killer and ends up quickly befriending the demon. The demon helps make the man harder to track by police forces in exchange for the bones and souls of his victims.

Cast:

Soap as the killer

Ghost as the demonic entity

Gaz as a detective who's new to the case but also best friends with Soap's character

Price voices the seasoned detective who's been working this case "too damn long"

Ghost and Soap ABSOLUTELY fall in love while recording scenes together. The banter, the flirting, the sexy scenario of cutting up a corpse together; it's too much not to fall in love irl

(actually such a big brain idea but I don't know how you'd write it tbh lmao. Maybe the show itself, where the boys keep their names? Idk the original idea turned into something much greater)

took a minute to figure something out i'm ngl but i did. something (in any case i would love to see your proper takes(s) if you'd be up to it, seeing as it's your idea!! i feel like i couldn’t do it justice)

Just like any other actor, Ghost had to audition for the role.

His agent books it for him without consultation, knowing the project would be right up his alley—horror, monsters, no face required—and Ghost makes no argument in sending in his tape. He recognizes this process and takes no issue with it, and once out of his hands, he waits patiently for a congratulatory offer or a gentle rejection.

Just like any other movie, or show, or what have you. Consume is no different.

Supposedly. At first.

John "Soap" MacTavish is... many things. He's charming, according to most. Talented. A joy to be around. A man who wears more than several hats of a project, which certainly tells of someone trying to worm their way into the commercial industry.

He has the spirit and creativity, Ghost will allow him that. But he also doesn't know when to stop talking as soon as the important work is done.

Is Soap professional? Sure. Does Soap make sure all jobs are done with efficiency and done well? Yes, he does. Does it make him any less of a nuisance to Ghost? Absolutely not.

But Ghost would be damned if the project doesn’t find its way into his soft spots, despite its nature. He’d be damned if he doesn’t fall in love with Soap’s animations and the hard work and craft he puts into them.

Then he blinks, and the pilot is premiering. It does well (again, considering its content), and Consume is properly green-lit.

Which is when Soap proposes the idea of recording their lines in the same room. Together. Facing one another. Because banter, and chemistry, and whatever other reasons he insists upon.

Personally, Ghost wants to decline. He’s always felt somewhat awkward when recording as such with anyone, but professionally? He couldn’t really say no, could he?

And it is awkward, at first. There’s more takes than usual, and Ghost can sense Soap’s frustration, though the man never expresses it. He just plasters on a tight smile, calls for a break, and pulls Ghost aside.

Surely, surely this is where Ghost gets fired. This is where Ghost is told he’s going to be replaced, where he’s told to say goodbye to Gaz and Price and wish them luck, and move onto his next gig. This is where—

“Have I done something wrong?”

Soap’s face is so earnest. So painfully sincere.

Ghost clenches his jaw. Shakes his head.

“No, I—“ He sighs. “Just have to get used to the… face-to-face. Let’s—I’ll try again.”

Soap smiles wider, now, as he nods, something kind and warm and brilliant.

The second try goes much smoother. Ghost takes a deep breath and eases himself into scripted dialogue, into witty banter and subtle flirts like it’s any other project.

They continue to record lines as such, just the two of them, each episode at a time. At some point, Ghost worries, the line between script and show and reality gets blurred. At some point, he fears, that flirting becomes genuine.

And what would he know—the reviews only get better as that line becomes less and less clear. Natural, real-feeling dialogue, critics say. The relationship is authentic, claim viewers.

The love is actually heartfelt.

And fuck, if that doesn’t make Ghost realize a few things about himself.

About Soap.

Consume is no different, his ass. He might have to have a stern talk with his agent in the near future.

(Or not.)

#ask #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #ghost mw2 #soap mw2 #ghost x soap #ghoap #soapghost #ghostsoap #writing #alternate universe

183 notes · View notes

kathjack · 10 months ago

Text

Benefactor Adam au

That's- That's it You know that parody "Hell is not forever"? Well blame that

And you may say "Isn't this the same as your swap au?" and I will say "No girl (non gendered)"

The Swap is very much following the same story as canon with tweaks This is an au where Adam didn't came up with the idea of exterminations but Sera, and he only does it because Sera told him too, he doesn't enjoy it, he's indifferent And so are the exorcists! They don't enjoy it, but it's their job, they are more refined on who they kill, kids are out of the list and they try to target powerful and dangerous demons (Not only overlords) So Vaggie never falls

That's the biggest change, Charlie had to do this all by herself, she got Angel and the staff but no supportive girlfriend until her meeting with Adam, so there's no new commercial until Vaggie joins and forces them

Adam does agree with the idea of redeeming sinners, so he interrups Charlie, she believes he's going to reject her idea but the man just started to sing about how much he supports it, even confessing they were planning to move up the next extermination to six months because a sinner killed an angel but now they won't So there's no actual threat as the extermination's date stays the same, they don't plan to purge all of hell and now Charlie has on her side the first man and his loyal lieutenant spreading the word on heaven, PLUS Adam decided send one of his best girls to help her, who would later become her girlfriend

Dude plays his guitar so fucking hard it pushes Charlie out of the meeting room

"You better not disappoint us babe!"

Now Charlie is... Confused, but happy!

Thing is, even with Vaggie being there as a proof that exterminators are on their side, the residents don't really believe Adam just agreed to all of this, hell, they don't believe in redemption, why would they? Why would the ones that come down to kill them believe on it?

6 months pass and Charlie decided to invite her dad to the hotel because everyone has been making actual progress and wants to show it to him, since she still asks him to go, he takes it as canon and goes

Hell's greatest dad starts playing with Alastor and Lucifer, but instead of Mimzy interrupting is Adam, he was just standing there since the the song started but wanted to see where they were going, and then came to sing as well, Charlie explains that Adam is also there to help her which just makes Lucifer more upset and confused

The rivalry between Adam, Alastor and Lucifer istg

Funnily enough, Adam is the only one out of the three that believes on Charlie legitimally, so he has that going for him Mimzy still appears, Alastor still eats the sharks and Lucifer and Charlie do have a heart to heart song

Lucifer and Adam arrange the meeting with heaven together for Charlie but Lucifer is not allowed to go, so he TRIES to trust Adam to keep her safe from Sera

And I still need to write the rest

Carmilla still killed an angel to protect her daughters, and that still will play a very important role on this au

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel au #Hazbin hotel Adam #Hazbin hotel Charlie #Hazbin hotel Vaggie #Hazbin hotel Lucifer #charlie morningstar #lucifer morningstar #Chaggie #charlie x vaggie #Benefactor Adam au

89 notes · View notes

jinisnuggets · 2 months ago

Text

✧ ˚ · . ɢɨʀʟ ʏօʊ'ʀɛ ֆօ ʄɨʀɛ

PAIRINGS | Model! Mafia! Member Junkyu x Model! Fem! Reader

GENRE | Suspense, Mafia Au, MILDLY Suggestive (mdni)

WORD COUNT | 1.3k

SYNOPSIS | Kim Junkyu lives a life of luxury, being a famous model with millions of fans, but maybe that is only the side the screens show…

WARNINGS | Small hints of murder, strong(ish) mafia themes, Junkyu is a little bit of a brat, manipulation topics, swear words, overall it's kinda wholesome.

NETWORK(S) | @starlit-network @k-library @blossomnet

A/N | HI! This fic is mainly in Junkyu's point of view because I wanted to try a new format of writing, overall, I hope you enjoy reading and I am very sorry and not uploading ;)... I've been a little inactive lately, but I'm going to try to comeback. Yes, I will be continuing my series (atz yh) but keep in mind that I only posted the first chapter to see how it went, not to continue it for the moment, so yes I'll continue writing it and will post the remaining chapters when they're ready :)!

“If you expect that raise, then you best bring me the best information you can find,” he demanded.

Junkyu sighed, placing his hands behind his back as a form of respect.

“I'm already one of the biggest celebrities in Seoul; I'm sure however much money it'll be I wouldn't need it.…” he muttered, watching his boss turn around as he lowered himself.

Sometimes he couldn't hold back his form of speech.

“It'll be lots of money, so I recommend reconsidering those words.” He scolded, figuring Junkyu wouldn't pay much more of his attention as he simply nodded and made his way back towards the door, bowing on his way out.

He exited through the back, entering the vehicle through the Limo’s door as his bodyguard drove away.

Though he was still processing his bosses words, he couldn't help but recall them so vividly every time they recurred in his mind.

The more he thought the more he noticed that everything he did for the organization was practically useless, but what more could he expect from being a member of a mafia.

He'd done countless of unexplainable things, but it was all for a good cause, and that was something others couldn't understand.

Maybe if he had just quit the moment he began his career as a model, it would all be normal. But then again, maybe it was simply the fear of stalkers finding out that secret that had been long buried, exposing him to the public for millions of people to misunderstand; or possibly it was the thought of them blackmailing him with it.

He preferred not to think about it.

The car’s door opened as he was greeted by screaming crowds and millions of paparazzis speaking over each other and invading personal space as they pushed their mics up to his face.

Politely, he declined the interview attempts and chuckled while making his way inside the modeling agency.

“Look who's here.” A female voice teased from ahead as he waved goodbye to the fans positioned outside.

He smirked in a teasing manner, deciding to add more fuel to the fire by approaching her with that same mocking demeanor.

“I wasn't expecting to see you here my lady.” He finally spoke, beginning to walk in the direction of his stylists room.

“There was a change of plans.” She shrugged.

He nodded in understanding; a sense of satisfaction washing over him as she wasn't known for frequent schedules. Encountering her brought him some sense of genuine joy.

“L/n Y/n!” A voice echoed from the distance causing her to glance back towards the source of her name. There stood her manager, a considerable distance away with a puzzled expression.

Finally, he began walking up to her, politely greeting the familiar face which had been all over recent magazines and TV commercials.

“What are you doing? Your turn is coming up." he asked, prompting her to nod in acknowledgment as she looked back at her friend.

“I need to head out, my shoot is up soon.” She chuckled, and he nodded, observing her walk away peacefully with her manager into her stylists room.

He turned around, not needing to turn his head to become aware of the coming presence.

“Junkyu.” A voice lingered in the air. Junkyu turned his head and there stood the person he had mostly anticipated.

Park Jihoon, a model from a big agency with a huge fanbase. Not only that but he also seemed to release banger music.

Jihoon also happened to be one of the main sources to the mafia's disposal. There was nothing he wasn't good at.

“Did they give you your next investigation to carry out?” He questioned, a look of prolepsis crossing his eyes as the words exited his mouth, almost as if he knew what was coming.

“L/n Y/n is a girl who keeps many dark secrets, one being her history with her parents. I need you to collect as much as you can about her and her family history due to this being a case of importance.”

“L/n Y/n and her family history.” He muttered to which Jihoon sighed.

“I asked them to give it to someone else, guess they never listened to me.” He chuckled awkwardly, causing Junkyu to glance back at him in confusion.

“Pardon me?” He asked.

Jihoon looked back, thinking for a moment until he glanced around, making direct eye contact with a security camera as he watched it shut off.

“They mentioned they'd give you her case, but I urged them not to as she's someone you're close with. I guess that's what they're looking for however.”

They walked into the stadium, forgetting about their shoots and simply deciding to just watch the other models and their shoots.

Watanabe Haruto was up: someone Junkyu always admired for his insane visuals and incredible acting abilities. He'd been trying different poses over a white background wall. Many other famous models and celebrities sat around them as they watched their colleagues in awe.

Jihoon and Junkyu picked their own table, a safe distance away from any other guest.

“It's alright, afterall, I'm sure she'll be relieved once her family’s out of the picture.” He sighed, looking up at an already shut off camera.

He looked back at the famous young star, smiling as his expressions changed depending on the mood his supervisors were aiming for.

You were up next, and he was left impatiently waiting for your familiar face to come up, smirking the moment it finally did.

“Seeing her here is only making things easier for me in a matter of fact.”

***

‘L/n Y/n is dating Kim Junkyu?’

‘Are L/n Y/n and Kim Junkyu a couple?’

‘Alleged leaked photos caught L/n Y/n and Kim Junkyu kissing.’

It was all over social media and he knew it. It was also likely the cause for why he was called up to his bosses office so suddenly one morning.

After multiple deep breaths, he finally opened the door to see his boss holding multiple files worth of informational papers, slamming them flat onto his arms the moment he approached his desk.

“What the hell are you thinking Kim Junkyu!?” He scolded.

Junkyu rolled his eyes very lightly, looking back at his boss with eyes of acknowledgement.

“I can't control what fans think-”

“But you can control what you do!” He once again yelled, making Junkyu flinch ever so slightly. He knew he was right.

Multiple moments of silence passed with no one saying a word.

“Alright. I'll shut down the rumors later today. We have another shooting event in the evening, where I believe L/n will be attending.”

His boss stared in intimidation, ultimately nodding to his apology and accepting it, shooing him away shortly after.

Junkyu didn't have an exact plan on how to do so, but he knew that it was all simply a lie. The main regulation of this organization was the strictly prohibited lovers rule.

But he was their most crucial piece.

And you, were his lady ever darling.

“Junkyu!” You called from afar, once more approaching him as he stared at you, smiling while doing so.

“I'm glad you made it.” He teased as you shook your head in playful annoyance, rolling your eyes in the process.

“I don't miss every event.” You defended, making him nod.

“I'm aware, my lady.”

You didn't realize when he dragged you into that secluded room, gripping your arms with an undeniable strength as he pinned you up against the wall.

Staring in utter confusion, you watched him move closer to you, constantly bringing your faces closer and closer together.

He smirked seeing your flustered expression.

“What do you say we put an end to these rumors my lady?” He asked.

You gulped, face burning as your cheeks turned a light red color.

“I.. I agree, it'll get in the way of our careers.” You assured, attempting to get out of the entire situation.

“Then shall we do so? What do you say we put an end to them by making them a reality?”

19 notes · View notes

jujutsubaby · 10 months ago

Text

after hours (part 7)

☆ pairing: toji fushiguro x afab!reader, satoru gojo x afab!reader ☆ summary: time to face the music, even if you're hungover. and by music...it's the missed calls and texts and from toji. what could he possibly want? ☆ tags: modern au, academia au, babysitting au ☆ warnings: mentions of alcohol, food poisoning, sexting, slight dubcon, dirty talking ☆ a/n: another longie (7.8k+ words SORRY) but i hope you guys enjoy the foreplay. y/n is about to be dicked down every day like good for her!! but also!! wish that were me! 🤭 next one will be filled with smut so dw u horndogs!! also i'm unsure when then 3sum will come but i'm thinking in like SOON in like...10ish parts (i hope not more). i want to slow burn lead up to it and hint it more before actually writing about it LOL (also ik it sounds like a taco bell commercial in the end its not ok i just love taco bell!!!) 🖤🤍 series masterlist 🤍🖤

the soft morning light shines through curtains you forgot to close last night, and the harshness of the sun causes you to stir in your sleep, waking you harshly.

your heart beats fast and you open your eyes and are unable to move a single limb on your body. panic sets in, only to dissipate seconds later as you find a rather tall lump of a man’s leg trapping you in the corner of your sofa.

ugh, how did i get here? why is it so bright? why does every inch of my body hurt? oh god, i’m about hurl.

you barely hold back dry heaving in your laid down position. your head is pounding and you don’t like how empty your stomach is right now. why do my legs hurt? i feel like i can’t feel them anymore. oh, right.

the large shape of a man who’s body is halfway strewn across yours, satoru, is now constricting the blood flow to your legs, and you know you have to do the daunting task of waking him up.

“psst, satoru. wake up.” you lightly pat his unruly head of white hair, but with no success. you start hitting his head harder, as you quickly start to lose more feeling in your legs, until you practically are shouting his name, swatting his head and kicking his torso. satoru abruptly wakes and turns around the small sofa, which actually has no room for turning, so he actually ends up taking a small dive into the hardwood floors of your living room.

satoru lets a groggy yet painful groan. “what the literal fuck, y/n?!” his words are almost incoherent with sleep laced between them as he rubs his arms that took the brunt of the fall. “as if my head isn’t aleady fuckin’ killin’ me.”

you groan out in pain. “my legs were being suffocated by your large body!”

none of you answer, and continue to lay still in your respective positions for what feels like hours, until your headache becomes almost too unbearable to withstand.

“satoru~” you whine out. “m’head…it hurts so much, i feel like i’m gonna die…” you turn your body as slow as you can to the edge of the couch to see satoru’s face. his eyes are still closed, but scrunched, and his hand is resting on his forehead.

“it’s called a hangover. get in line, stupid.”

“don’t call me stupid right now, satoru. i’m in pain!” you cry out, your fingers doing their best to sooth your pain by rubbing harsh circles on your temples.

satoru slowly sits up without looking at you, grabs a decorative pillow from the chaise of your couch, and immediately face plants on to it on the floor, effectively falling asleep once more. you think that’s not a bad idea, now that you have more space, and close your eyes and force your mind to concentrate on anything but your throbbing head.

okay, so we got back from the barcade. me and satoru…we…kissed. we definitely kissed. i remember that. and then? did we have sex? no, that doesn’t like us - neither of us are keen on having sex drunk for a variety of reasons besides the obvious ones.

your thoughts slowly drown out as you find yourself falling into a second deep slumber.

the second time you and satoru wake for the day is the most disconcerting: a loud, high pitched scream.

you wake up with your heart pounding so hard, you think you’re dying from cardiac arrest. satoru thinks he threw up in his mouth from how fast he stood up with a headache. both of your eyes look at the direction of the scream and see a horrified and bewildered shoko staring wide eyes and slack jawed at you. wait, why isn’t she looking at my eyes? she’s looking at my…oh my god!

you look down and see your bralette lightly torn up and your titties completely exposed and you immediately turn to look at satoru (who’s alternating between staring at your eyes and your tits). and then back at shoko.

oh? oh. OH. OH! it fucking hits you like a ton of bricks and your hungover brain immediately goes into panic mode, shoving all signals of hunger, pain, and soreness aside.

“sh-shoko, it’s obviously not like that. this is actually so funny, you know…” you do a failed attempt at a lighthearted chuckle and fumble around for a decorative pillow until satoru hands you the one he was sleeping on.

“yeah, it’s not at all what you think it is. i didn’t…i didn’t even know she had boobs until like…right now. i swear, it’s not-” satoru bumbles, also going into damage control.

“save it. i don’t care. not right now, when i’m too hungover,” shoko says, closing her eyes and raising a hand up as she bolts to her room and closes the door.

you figure you do the same and hastily get up and grab satoru’s hands. the two of you stumble your way into your bedroom and lock the door and catch your breaths.

“ohmygod this is so embarrassing,” you say whisper, not wanting shoko to overhear your conversation. you start rubbing your temples again as satoru face plants, again, on to your bed. he doesn’t respond to you so you join him and push him to his back and try to get his attention. his eyes are still scrunched closed and he lets out a groan.

“satoru, do you even know what happened? shoko probably thinks we had…ugh i can’t even say it!”

this makes him open one eye to look at you and cock an eyebrow. he lets out a laugh, which makes you let out laugh (against your will). you playfully hit his chest but he intercepts your wrists with ease and pulls you on top of him so that your sitting up on his torso while he’s laying down.

this feels nice but…you know deep down you two should probably address the elephant in the room. you uncomfortably clear your throat and he opens his eyes. “maybe we should talk about last night…” you say with a sigh.

“what’s there to say? there’s nothing wrong with two friends kissing,” satoru says cheekily, his voice still slightly deep and groggy. kinda hot.

his response puts you at ease, and your fingers start toying with the buttons on his shirt (not in a sexual way, but in a ‘this feels nice to fidget with so i don’t have anxiety’ kinda way).

“yeah, but maybe we should…i dunno…talk about it?” you question, avoiding eye contact with him.

“like?”

“like, i dunno…” you start to chicken out before forcing yourself to say what you really want to say. “i dunno…are we only gonna kiss each other from now on? because i kinda still…wanna kiss toji…” your voice becomes barely audible near the end.

satoru stays quiet for longer than you anticipated, and you’re about to step off him to throw up in the bathroom before he finally responds with a resounding hum.

“yeah, i don’t mind. if i’m being honest…with us having school and work and all…it might be hard to make this an exclusive thing. and also…i know mia was a bitch to literally everyone but…god…” satoru sighs deeply. “her ass was insane, i’m sorry!”

you laugh wholeheartedly and grab a nearby pillow and hit his head softly in jest. you should’ve known someone like satoru, someone as horny as satoru, would not want to be tied down during grad school just yet. a sense of relief washes over you as you feel grateful that satoru has always matched your wavelength since high school. you start to think of the second elephant in the room. what will we tell shoko? and suguru? and utahime and literally all of our friends? there’s no telling shoko hasn’t already told utahime…

“also…maybe we should keep this between us…for now. especially after…” you trail off, deep in thought about the prospect of your friends finding out.

“yeah, that sounds like a good idea…” satoru says, smirking slowly. “definitely because of our friends but also…it’s always fun to have a sexy secret with someone.”

“shut up!” you give him a smack across the chest, before thinking. i mean, it’s not like you hated kissing him. and you didn’t hate it when he played with your titties. “maybe…i mean…maybe we can still, you know, fool around still?” you say shyly.

“maybe we can fuck too if that’s something you’re down for?” satoru says unabashedly.

you lean your body down, pressing against him, and bring your lips inches from his lips, before saying you’d like that a lot. he closes the gap and starts kissing you deeply, just like the night before. satoru’s hands move up and down your hips, leaving no part of your torso untouched. your hips buckle into his and starts grinding against his already hard member. your skirt from last night has already risen up, so the cool metals of his belt are grinding up and down your clothed core, making you squirm and moan into his mouth.

satoru breaks the kiss and you whine at the loss of contact. your lips immediately latch on to his neck, leaving small wet spots all over.

satoru groans. “fuck, need this off.” he puts his fingers around the waistband of your skirt and shimmies it off of you, leaving you exposed in your thong and have ripped bralette.

your hands immediately get to work and unbuckles his belt. your hands fumble as you unzip his pants and slide them halfway down, his erect clothed member coming into view. satoru lets out a throaty breath as you start palming his hard member and leaving kisses from his neck down to his happy trail. before you’re able to start kissing below the belt, satoru pulls your head up via bunching up your hair into a makeshift ponytail and starts to kiss you as he sits up.

“maybe we should take this into the shower…” he mumbles in between kisses. you nod and break off the kiss.

“what time is it?” you say, as you look around for your phone. you find it only to see that the battery is completely dead. frowning, you get up to charge it before continuing your activities with satoru.

“jesus, it’s 11 in the mornin’” satoru says, sounding slightly flustered. “fuck! i’m gonna be late for a lab meeting!” he says, as he starts to put his belt back on.

you frown. “so no shower sex?”

“i promise you, i want nothing more than to fuck your brains out in that shower.” satoru scrunches his eyes, and you wonder if he’s in genuine pain over the fact that he can’t. “but i unfortunately told nanami i’d personally talk to professor masamichi about his referral.”

“since when do you care about holding up your end of the bargain like that?” you say, cocking an eyebrow. you’ve known satoru for years, and you don’t think he’s ever showed up to a professional meeting on time, nor did he ever care to follow through with requests given to him by his peers.

“yeahhh, i know but nanami said he’s gonna send a deep web hitman for me after tricking him into my party and forcing him to be on my pool team…soo…”

“you’re so insane.”

“i think i’m going insane forfeiting pussy to go to a lab meeting, alright?”

you laugh softly. perhaps it’s probably a good time to let satoru go so you can begin your day. you have a laundry list of things to get done that thinking about it is enough for you to feel sick (showering, studying, talking to shoko without satoru there, and more things you know you’re forgetting). “well, thanks for offering anyway,” you say.

“c’mere,” satoru says, holding out his arms to you. you melt into the hug he gives you and look up.

“still seein’ you for study group later?” you ask him, recalling you, nanami, and haibara were planning to do some studying for your final at the university library later this evening.

“oh shit, yeah. gotta clean up the aftermath of last night at my place and then i’ll be there,” he assures you, before grabbing his phone. you quickly put on a pair of pajama shorts and replace your torn up bralette with an old sleeping oversized tee and lead satoru to the doorway of your apartment. you wave goodbye to him, and prepare yourself to have a potentially awkward conversation with shoko after what she saw this morning.

you scurry to shoko’s bedroom and knock twice on the door, and shoko immediately opens it and lets you in. you give her a pouty look, internally apologizing for the sight in the morning. it’s not necessarily that she saw you topless (you guys are roommates and nip slips happen), it’s more so that you were topless with satoru.

“glad to see you finally wearing clothes, you slut,” shoko says tiredly. you can detect a slight joking tone in her voice and it relaxes you immediately. you sigh softly.

“listen, shoko.” you start but hesitate. you want to tell shoko what really happened last night, but you remember you’re the one who didn’t want to tell your mutual friends about you and satoru. shoko and you have been best friends for so long and you can’t bear to lie to her or keep something from her. no literally, you tried to in the past but she saw through you within minutes and you ended up divulging everything to her. you figure now is no different, and you also trust her not to tell suguru or anyone else.

shoko snaps her fingers at you. “hello, y/n? where’d ya go?”

“i hooked up with satoru last night.” you say quickly, praying she doesn’t ask you to say it again.

shoko is silent and you cannot read her face for the life of you. “okay, it wasn’t even a hook up, i dunno why i said that. we just made out and like sortofmadeittosecondbasebutit’snotthatserious-”

your rambling is interrupted by shoko’s laughter howling across the room. shoko tries to calm down and collect herself. “wow, i mean, i sort of clocked it because of how you were this morning but oh my god? like it finally happened?”

you plop down on her bed next to her and shake her to make her stop laughing. “shokoo~ stop it! i was really horny last night, okay!” you’re scrambling to defend yourself from this blunder.

“yeah, but him? kinda…embarrassing, no? i mean i know he’s hot, like even i can attest to that but gojo is like…hot and insufferable…like i’m happy for you but at what cost to you?” shoko explains as she wipes away tears from her eyes from laughing too hard.

“i know, it is embarrassing and i dunno what i see in him but…when i see him…shoko,” you start rubbing your temples as you feel your headache coming on again. “i just wanna fuckin’ jump his bones, dude.” you think you hear shoko mumble something about how she cannot stand straight people. she has a point.

“so what now?” shoko asks, getting up from her bed and grabbing her scrubs from her closet, slowly getting ready for her shift at the hospital.

“well, for starters, you cannot tell anyone because we said we would keep it secret so you gotta pretend you dunno about this.” you go on to tell shoko about how you guys would continue to fool around casually. “it’s because we have so much going on and you know…i still wanna kiss toji.” wait, toji. toji’s text? did he respond. how could you have forgotten something you were obsessing over the whole night yesterday?! it finally hits you that satoru finally took your mind off of toji for a while, and that he could’ve finally messaged you back this morning.

shoko mulls this information over for a bit, and you already know what her next question is. “can i tell utahime? pleeeaaassseeee!” she whines.

“if you tell utahime she might actually kill me in my sleep.” you say exhasperatedly.

“no, no she won’t. she might want to take you for a psych eval or something but that’s it. she might throw up too, i guess. and she might cry for you. and she-”

“okay, i’ve heard enough.” you stop shoko, getting up from her bed and heading back to your room. before exiting shoko’s bedroom, you quickly give her permission to tell utahime but no one else. it’s quite pathetic how fast you run to your desk where your phone lay charging. your practically jumps out of your chest as you see 5 missed text messages from toji:

toji: Holy fuck, pumpkin 🥵 your titties are so fuckin insane. im so fuckin hard right now.

toji: Wyd tn?

toji: You’ve made me so hard right now n someone’s gotta help me fix this mess. Im bout to beat myself off to this pic fuck

toji: [1 Photo]

toji: [1 Video]

you open the photo he sent and gasp. it’s a photo of him in front of his mirror, shirtless, and him holding his clearly erect member, except it’s barely peeking through the granite counter tops of his bathroom. you open the video and see it’s a video of him…oh my god, it’s a video of him touching himself? you’re appalled and turned on because he looks so good in it and you wish it was you getting him off instead. you check the timestamp, and you’re embarrassed to realize he sent this around the time you were having your heavy makeout session with satoru or around the time you passed out shortly after.

the video continues to play as you strip yourself completely, creep to the bathroom, and turn on the shower. as you wait for it to get to the temperature you like, you continue to watch the video of toji stroking himself, and your hand automatically guides itself to your already wet and throbbing core. just knowing toji recorded this for your viewing pleasure (and it was indeed an immense pleasure viewing it) turned you on so much that you felt near your climax already. you start rubbing harsher circles on your delicate bundle of nerves, until you’re unable to hold back any longer. the sound of the shower blocks out your throaty moans, and you end up coming undone around the same time as toji does in the video. you breath heavily as you see white streaks painting toji’s shower, not dissimilar from your location.

through heavy breaths, you quickly send a picture of your fingers resting and covering the bare “v” on your body. this time, you immediately get a response.

toji: Fuck pumpkin, you left me all alone last night and now you do this?

immediately you respond back, biting back a smile.

y/n: you’re the one who left me hanging all day :( i had to cum all by myself just right now looking at your video daddy

you hit send and it’s been only 10 seconds before you see that toji is ringing you. you let it ring a little bit longer, not wanting to sound desperate for him, even though you totally are. “hii toji~” you say sultrily.

“pumpkin, you better come over tonight.” toji’s husky voice sends shivers through your spine, and you have to physically stop yourself from rolling your eyes in pleasure. god, this is just what his voice does to you? you want him bad.

“hmm, why should i? i’m hurt after you ignored me all day, toji.” you try to sound strict and upset over the phone but it’s hard when your body is already ready for another orgasm.

“aww don’t gimme that,” toji coos. “i’ll take care of your pretty little puss- oh whoops, megumi is here, but you know what i mean.” you can hear him smirking on the other line and you almost get second-hand embarrassment from him almost saying a bad word in front of megumi.

“how can you take care of me when you don’t even respond to my texts?” you whine. “go fuck the other girl you were fucking last night instead of me.” oh wow. you don’t know where that came from, but the hangover you have right now is making you feel brattier than usual. and you actually do want to know what he was doing (or who) all day yesterday, even if it makes you a hypocrite since you were with satoru last night (and this morning).

you hear toji roar with laughter, a little too much in your opinion, and you pout. where does he get off laughing about how he ghosted me last night? “okay, if you must know…megumi got himself some classic food poisoning from the parent-teacher conference.” though the parent-teacher conference feels decades away, your heart drops for poor megumi and you gasp. “calm down pumpkin, he’s fine now so don’t worry. his friends just made him eat somethin’ weird on the playground, i think.”

“oh my god, toji!” you say horrified. “okay, i’m coming over tonight with some soup. and not for you okay, for megumi.” who are you kidding? you’re also partially going so toji could fuck your brains out but you’re not about to give him that satisfaction.

“whatever you say, pumpkin. see you at 6:30? i’ll make dinner.” ugh, he always knows what to say to sound so romantic and you fall for it all the time. plus, seeing a domestic toji in the kitchen…god you can’t even think about it because you might end up screaming at how horny you might get.

“see ya, daddy.” you say jokingly. toji and you say goodbye and hang up. you quickly shoot a text to your study group quickly making up an excuse as to why you can no longer come. while nanami and haibara respond in the group with thumbs ups, satoru messages you privately.

satoru: wtf i didn’t know fucking you this evening was still on the table?

you furrow your eyebrows in confusion. what the hell is he on about?

y/n: what r u talkin about u weirdo

satoru doesn’t respond, and you’ve been wasting so much water already having an entire phone conversation with toji and, admittedly touching yourself that you might as well get in. the hot shower envelops your sore body, and before you’re able to fully wet yourself, you hear the ding of your phone. you really shouldn’t…but you were never good at controlling yourself. you quickly open the shower and bring your phone in, shielding it from the water.

satoru: u obvi cancelled to see toji im not stupid

y/n: no comment

satoru: cancel on him i promise u baby i will fuck u better and harder tn

your eyes widen at the offer. you recall a couple nights ago refusing a similar offer he texted you, but this time felt more serious. you want to see toji, but you also want to see satoru. you’re about to mull over the options before an image of a sick megumi pops into your forehead, and you immediately know you have to go to toji to at the very least see megumi and maybe read him a couple bedtime stories and help him with some missed homework.

y/n: toji’s kid got food poisoning :( i feel like i should go see him but…let’s link tomorrow?

satoru: he’s using his kid to get pussy that is insane. but yes ok fine cya -_-

you chuck your phone outside the shower, and close your eyes. you try to think of things that don’t involve sexy moments with satoru or toji…or satoru and toji and instead think of how much extra studying you have to get done tonight since you’re opting to go to see toji. as always, you fail to think of anything else.

the timer for the soup you’re making for megumi beeps and you turn it off hastily, determined to finish up one last problem set before going to the kitchen. through some miraculous intervention (and advil), you were able to hunker down and solve through the problem sets you were supposed to solve with your study group and prepare a simple chicken soup for megumi. after five minutes, you check your work hastily, before deciding it’s enough for you to get full marks and sprint to the kitchen, which now smells like chicken stock and veggies and you hum. you’re excited for megumi to try the soup your mom had made for you whenever you had food poisoning.

you go back to your room and finish packing your bags and picking your outfit for the night. since you’re just staying indoors with toji, and the weather says it’ll be a pretty warm evening, you opt for your comfiest pair of fleece shorts and a well loved collegiate sweatshirt. you’ve perfected the art of a “no makeup” makeup look throughout the years, so you’re able to get by with just throwing your hair in a messy bun and calling it day. you quickly grab a large to-go soup container for the soup and pack your bags to head to toji’s place.

you hate feeling like a child but just merely thinking of seeing toji after him being so distant with you yesterday has your heart doing cartwheels like you’re in fifth grade with a crush. you’re also excited to see a domestic toji in action in his fancy kitchen. maybe a bit too excited, you think, as you feel the wetness pool around your core. god, snap out of it already! the night hasn’t even started yet.

you drive into toji’s 4-car driveway, only to see toji’s garage door open. huh, that’s weird. you normally park in his driveway (he’s asked you to so you’re not left walking to your car during the late nights when you babysit) so you pull up anyway, despite the confusion. you see toji’s head peek through the garage door inside and he looks…oh, he looks kinda upset. you’re about to get out of the car and meet toji but he starts to walk towards you, his face only softening a tiny bit, which is unusual. oh, something must’ve really annoyed him.

you open your car door and get out halfway to talk to toji. “hey toji, you okay? what’s wrong?” your voice is laced with concern. once toji gets within arms length of you, you reach up and start rubbing his chest in an effort to sooth him.

toji grunts, and quickly leans down to peck your lips. “sorry pumpkin, megumi just told me he signed up to bring brownies for his soccer potluck early tomorrow morning. n’ they gotta be homemade.”

you furrow your brows even more in confusion. you know about the monthly potlucks megumi has with his soccer team on the weekends, but there’s usually some silly theme to them (last month’s was barbie themed so everyone had to bring in something pink). you guess this time around the theme is homemade meals and treats. “what’s the issue? there’s still plenty of time to grab something from the store…”

“the issue is i wanted to use that time to cook something nice for my son’s insanely hot babysitter, y/n.” toji replies bluntly.

“ohh~” it came out of you by accident, and you’re a little embarrassed as you feel the heat rising to your cheeks. “th-that’s fine toji. you don’t need to-”

“i wanted to…and then i wanted to eat her pussy for dessert.” his eyes darken and he smirks coyly. toji pulls your body closer to his and leans down to give you your first proper kiss of the night. your arms wrap around his neck, which he uses as a signal to deepen the kiss by inserting his tongue into your mouth. you allow him and his tongue wastes no time exploring every inch of your mouth. you find yourself moaning into the kiss softly and tugging on his hair, until you hear megumi yell for toji from the garage. you both immediately snap back into a respectful distance apart.

“daddy, i’m ready to go.” megumi says, his voice slightly tired. you grab your bag and soup container from your car and walk inside the garage to greet megumi, who’s eyes beam when they see you. he runs to you for a hug, which you gladly return with one hand.

“hey there, kiddo. heard you were sick last night,” you say pityingly.

“yeah i ‘frew up because yuji and nobara dared me to eat some weird smelling cheese from the cafeteria.”

you make a disgusted face. “megumiii, you have to stop doing stuff because you think it’ll make you look cool. it’s just gross.” you stand up and turn to toji. “i made him some chicken soup, it’s still warm so be careful but i think it might help him out.”

toji thanks you and takes the soup and your bag from you. he tells you to wait out here with megumi while he quickly puts it inside the fridge. you turn to megumi sympathetically again. “how are you feelin’ now, bud?”

“i’m totally fine now!!!” he says very energetically, doing various dramatic stretches to supposedly “prove” that he was all good. “but…daddy’s mad because now he has to make brownies instead of dinner for us.”

“daddy will get over it, don’t worry.” you wink to megumi. “i’ll put in a good word for you. maybe i’ll even help you bake some brownies, kay?”

megumi’s eyes light up at the sound of baking a sweet treat with you, and it melts your heart. “really?! you mean it?!” you nod in response and give his cheeks a friendly pinch, causing him to laugh.

“what’s going on, you guys talking shit about me?” toji walks into the garage, and you finally get a proper glimpse of what he’s wearing: loose slim fitted grey sweats and a skin tight compression shirt (that perfectly shows off his toned chest), which he’s currently covering up (to your dismay) with a black fitted quarter zip. it almost makes you forget about how he swore in front of megumi. almost.

“toji! don’t say that word in front of your son, oh my god.” you playfully chastise him as you pretend to cover megumi’s ears.

“fuck, my bad. megumi, don’t say what i say.” toji says without a care in the world.

“shit!” megumi says out loud, and he’s about to say another word but you give him a disappointed glare, which makes him immediately stop saying more alleged swear words. “to be fair, i learn most bad words from nobara. she knows soo many…” okay, you need to dissect that later with him.

you notice toji reaching for his car keys and you start protesting. “wait, toji, i can drive us. my car is already open and in your driveway anyway…” you’ve never driven toji anywhere, and it’s kind of exciting to potentially have that opportunity now. toji seems to hesitate for a bit, purely out of ego of letting the girl he’s sleeping with drive him somewhere, but acquiesces. you give him a bright smile before taking megumi’s hands and heading to your car. you get him seated in the backseat of your mini cooper, and megumi marvels at being inside your car for the first time.

“woah! this car is so small and tiny and fun sized!” he says while laughing, and you ruffle his hair. finally, the first person to ever say something nice about the size of your car!

you shut the door and see toji already on the passenger side furrowing his brows while looking at your car. you know this look. you’ve seen this look on satoru and suguru, and any guy who’s over 6 feet tall and is riding in your car for the first time.

“pumpkin, i am not gonna fit inside here. let’s just take my car.”

“don’t be dramatic, you’ll fit. everyone fits inside this car. now get in.” you huff, already getting settled inside and putting on your seatbelt. toji get into the passenger seat, and the sheer weight of his build causes the car to shake. he adjusts his seat and tries to get as comfortable as he can. you see his legs are bent in uncomfortable angles as he puts his seatbelt on.

“this is the last time i’m getting in your tiny ass car, y/n. i feel like i’m about to die.” oh he called you by your name. he’s definitely hating this but…he did ignore you the whole day yesterday. sure, megumi was sick but it would’ve taken 10 seconds max to say that through text.

you start to back out of his driveway and drive to the nearby target. “you’ll get over it. also, i was thinking…” you make eye contact with megumi from the backseat and give him a wink and he returns one as well. “maybe i can help megumi with baking brownies, too. and maybe we can just order takeout instead? spend the rest of time helping megs get his rest for tomorrow?”

you bite your lip and turn to face toji during a red light. you hate to sound cocky, but you know he can’t resist you when you’re looking at him like this, and you’re right. toji obliges, but swears he’s going to pay for dinner regardless, and you don’t object.

megumi fills the car ride with random tidbits and stories from school and his sick day yesterday while you and toji entertain him. throughout the ride, toji alternates between holding your free hand and rubbing circles on your thighs while you drive, which you make a mental note of telling him not to do because it definitely distracts you from the road.

at target, the three of you grab ingredients for the brownies pretty quickly, before getting in a moderately long line. while waiting, your eyes wander and see the cutest black lace bralette (pretty similar to the one satoru destroyed last night). you really want to check it out, so you quickly tell toji and get closer to inspect it. the beautiful lace designs are just so your style, and the price range is perfect, too. you make another mental note to come back and make satoru buy it for you.

“like what you see?” toji’s voice startles you and you turn around quickly, and feel the heat rise to your cheeks. “i think you’d look sexy in it, for what it’s worth.”

“th-thanks, toji. i might get it later…”

“you should get it now. i’ll buy it for you. after all, your bralette got ripped last night, right?” what. the. fuck?

the color drains from your face and if you weren’t feeling hot before, you sure are burning up right now. your throat feels dry and you start stuttering. “wha-what are you talkin’ abou-”

“the one that…god what was his name? satoru? yeah, the one that satoru ripped, right?” toji is fully smirking amusedly now, and you look like a deer caught in his headlights at his mercy.

“h-how do you know th-that?” you say, your eyes widening at your (slutty) night out being caught by toji.

“oh, sorry, i thought you knew. i called you last night, pumpkin, remember?” toji inches closer to you and his pupils dilate. your breathing gets more erratic and heavy. what? no he didn’t. or did he? oh my god. it hits you that you answered his call via your body movements with satoru and you didn’t know. and you didn’t bother checking your call logs this morning because there was no missed call from toji since you technically answered it. oh my god.

“you made me so fuckin’ hard with that pic of your tits, y/n. i had to call you to help me get off, but it seems like you were too busy getting off too.” toji’s lips are inches from your ears, and you can feel his breath as he whispers in your ear, and it makes your eyes roll far back in your head. “i can’t lie, pumpkin, your moans while he was playing with you…” toji groans and you dare to look down his hips to see a tent forming in his gray sweats, making your breath hitch. “it made me so fuckin’ turned on that i just had to touch myself to it. but don’t worry, you didn’t miss much. i sent you a full video of it, too.”

you have to bite your lip hard to prevent yourself from moaning in the middle of the women’s section of target out of all fucking places, but you let out the tiniest whimper that only toji can hear.

“don’t worry, pumpkin. i’m not mad you were with someone else. you’re such a needy slut who needs to be taken care of, and when daddy can’t help, you have to find your own way, isn’t that right?” he grabs your jaw roughly and forces you to make eye contact with him. “answer me, pumpkin.” he says more forcefully.

oh, you are so finished. you are done for. your panties are a complete mess and you wish you had brought a second pair with you because they are just ruined. you swallow before answering toji with a shaky “yes daddy.”

toji releases your jaw, but not before giving your lips a quick peck that leaves you wanting more. way more. he squeezes your ass, which you don’t expect and let out an unfortunate and embarrassing squeak, causing a handful of people nearby you guys to turn around and wonder about the noise for half a second. toji grabs the bralette and heads back to the line where he made megumi wait with the cart. you take a moment to yourself to process the information toji revealed and get your breathing under control before heading back. you feel like maybe you should be upset about this, but…it’s just turning you on? those forbidden feelings you’ve been having about satoru and toji taking you at the same time are bubbling to the surface with toji’s confession, and you force them down unsuccessfully. toji’s a fuckin’ freak but that just turns you on even more.

in the car, you’re still unable to properly hold a conversation with megumi and toji properly because of how flustered you are. you crack a window open, and you bite your lips so hard that you’re sure you bruised them when toji places his hand on your thigh again. a mangled moan gets stuck in your throat and you cough quickly to cover up any suspicion.

“s-so, what are we gonna do for dinner? t-takeout? where?” you stutter, quickly trying to regain your composure.

“i want taco bell!” megumi yells excitedly from the backseat.

“megumi, y/n is our guest here. we can’t just take her to taco bell. think of a nicer place than that. what about panda express?” toji turns around to chastise megumi, but his hands are still firmly gripping your thigh.

you cough again and wish you had a bottle of water to help your dry throat. “i love taco bell! let’s go, it’s okay, toji.” you press to start the car ignition, and ride to taco bell is anything but silent, with megumi talking about the countless items he wanted to get from taco bell, and toji dissuading him from doing so.

“even if you’re feeling better, why in the world would you want to eat a chicken crispanada? who even told you about that?” toji asks exasperatedly.

it’s probably yuji, he’s always eating something weird.

“yuji told me about it.” megumi says without missing a beat, causing you to smile. by the time you pull up to the taco bell drive-thru, toji has talked down megumi to reduce his never ending list of taco bell items, but not by a lot (“he’s a growing boy!” you told toji).

toji does the honors of remembering everyone’s orders and responding to the cashier when he asks what the order is. “yeah, uh, hi, can we get 5 crunchy tacos, 1 mexican pizza, 1 chicken crispinada…”

“CINNABON DELIGHTS!” megumi interrupts from the backseat.

“yeah, uh, the 12 pack cinnabon delights…” toji looks over at you to get your order. you whisper to him you want a crunchwrap supreme and he frowns when that’s the only thing you want. “you gotta have something else, pumpkin…” he encourages. you know you probably should, but there’s no way you can eat as much as him and megumi, which makes you hesitate.

“i just don’t think i can finish another thing by myself…” you say quickly, knowing the cashier might be getting annoyed at how long it’s taking for you guys to order, but toji doesn’t seem to care.

“we can split some nachos, yeah?” toji squeezes your thigh reassuringly, and you smile and nod.

“yeah, and maybe a nacho bell grande? that’s all for us.” the cashier sounds bored and he tells you guys the total and asks you to pull to the front. in the front window, the bored cashier’s expression immediately changes when he looks at you…wait. not you.

the cashier immediately straightens up and adjusts his shirt. he looks almost nervous as he reads out loud the order you guys have, but stutters every time he looks up and makes eye contact with…toji. he stutters out the total, and toji smirks at him while he takes out his wallet and pulls out his card, passing it to you to pass to the cashier. the cashier hesitates to run his card, and it looks like he’s deep in thought before he starts to speak, this time more confidently.

“um, actually, sir, we’re having a new promotion if you’re interested…”

toji hums in response. “and what’s that?” he asks it so sensually that you have to do a flabbergasted double take between the two of them. is this what you think it is?

“you see, the meal’s on the house…in exchange for your number.” the cashier coyly returns a smile to toji, not breaking eye contact with him, and as a result, totally ignoring you and megumi in the car. you sneak a glance behind you at megumi and you’re surprised to see him looking completely bored and unamused by what’s happening.

“gimme a pen and the receipt and you got it, sugar.” toji’s response is a bit too quick for your liking, but you’re still in shock as a quickly jots down his digits before handing the receipt back to the cashier and pocketing his card. the cashier winks at him as you drive up to the second window for your food and toji looks completely unphased by what just transpired. you turn to look at him incredulously, with wide confused eyes and your dropped.

“what…was that?!”

“jealous? don’t worry about it, pumpkin. not the first time someone’s asked me my number for a free meal.” he chuckles, still nonplussed about the entire interaction.

you shake your head, baffled. “w-what? so you’re telling me multiple are just? into you like this? also i’m not jealous!”

toji shrugs and grins. “guess so. i mostly care about the free meal, and currently, my eyes are for you.” he assures you by squeezing your hands quickly and giving you a quick kiss on the cheek.

you laugh at how absurd it is. no way he’s flirting with cashiers for a free meal. you make a mental note to tell shoko about it later, even though you know it will just fan the “toji doesn’t have a job” flames even more. “oh my god, you’re a slut! you, like, just give it up real easy, huh?” you tease, but you make sure to mouth the word “slut” so megumi can’t hear the foul language.

“you’re one to talk,” toji says, and you both laugh as you get your food and drive home quickly before the food gets cold.

at toji’s place, toji helps set the dinner table for megumi, while you offer to start on the brownies since you weren’t as hungry. toji sits at the dinner table with megumi, and you both entertain him and his jokes and stories as he eats his dinner hungrily. after a particularly disgusting story about yuji eating a worm on the playground (“this is why you’re getting food poisoning so much, megs!” toji says while you chastise him once again about the dangers of peer pressure), you can feel megumi’s voice get lower as he gets more tired. it makes sense – he had a rough day yesterday, and so he’s more tired today.

“someone’s sleepyyyy” you sing and lightly tease megumi, as you fill up a cup of water for him.

“i’m not! i’m very awake and i can watch-” megumi is interrupted by his own yawn which he fails to hide from either of you. “i can watch some tv. i need to watch more euphoria…” he pleads.

“what is this show you’re watching?” toji questions, looking at megumi quizzically as he starts throwing away trash from megumi’s dinner. your eyes widen and before megumi answers, toji cuts him off. “doesn't matter. no tv for you because your body needs to recover and you need to sleep early tonight.”

megumi pouts so hard that tears begin to brim his eyes. “but this isn’t fair,” he whines.

toji picks him up with one arm with ease (did his biceps get even bigger?). “tell you what, you go to sleep early, and let me and y/n bake your brownies for you. and i promise you i’ll let you have a brownie for breakfast tomorrow morning.”

you shoot toji a frown. you always try to prep some overnight oats or pancakes or something more balanced for megumi to have in the mornings after you leave, but you know toji has to lose some battles to win some to avoid a crying temper tantrum tonight. toji shrugs as he looks at you and throws the remaining trash away, as megumi immediately cheers up hearing about his impending brownie breakfast.

toji turns to you. “gonna put him to bed, be right back, pumpkin.” he gives you a quick wink which sets your heart ablaze, thinking about what the rest of the night will hold. your dinner is probably cold but you don’t care as you’re back in the target clothing section, toji’s words sending a chill across your spine and drying your throat. you both haven’t gotten alone time since then, and, as much as you hate to admit it, you feel yourself getting wet through your panties.

you take a seat after setting out the ingredients for the brownies on the granite counter, and have to cross your legs to prevent your thoughts from getting too dirty too fast…

77 notes · View notes