#thanks to my community theater work i believe...

[walterdecourceys]

i love googling my own name. i'm on abouttheartists??

[srapsodia]

woah!! hi!! that's a lot of you in a very short time!! thank you all for liking my drawings enough to stick around! :>

[natsaffection]

Im glad i’m not the only one who saw 4ngel1v’s ai pics!! It just brewed up another idea! I told you it would be soon.

Think about Gp Nat as a beefy bodyguard and reader is like a famous singer or actor🤷‍♀️. And they didn’t meet on great terms, but reader ends up hiring nat and whatever it was between them grew. But thing is that they couldn't distinguish their tension from hate. One thing that reader could distinguish though, was Nats jealousy. SO LIKE A YKYK ENEMIES TO LOVERS BUT RLLY SLOW PROCESS TO LOVERS n smuttyy🤭

“What’s with the attitude, you weren’t as grumpy earlier?”

“Loosen up a little, it’s fine to be a risky once in a while, Natasha”

“You’re giving me a handjob at YOUR premiere. We’re thinking of two different versions of risky.”

-💋

I'm not going anywhere. | N.R

Bodyguard!Natasha x Younger!Actress!Reader

Warnings: 18+! MINORS DNI! G!P Natasha, Age gap ( R is 22 and Nat is 32) Inappropriate behavior, so much teasing, kinda handjob, begging, rough sex, pet names, angst

Word Count: 9,5k

A/N: Okay, when this is posted I'll be driving 200 km/h on the highway for the next 36 hours. So I hope everything works out, because I don't have the chance to reply right now 🫶🏼🥸

Thank you my lovely anon, you served again 🌚 I really enjoyed writing this, even though I was very carried away

You were born and raised in a small, picturesque town in the heart of the countryside. Your parents, both teachers, instilled a love of learning and creativity in you from an early age. Your mother, an English teacher, often read you classic literature at bedtime, sparking a lifelong passion for storytelling. Your father, a drama teacher, introduced you to the world of theater and encouraged you to participate in school plays and local theater productions.

As a child, you were curious and imaginative, often inventing elaborate stories and characters in your head. You were very popular in your community for your kind heart and lively personality. Despite your small-town upbringing, you always dreamed of something bigger and longed for the excitement and opportunities that lay beyond the boundaries of your hometown.

At 16, your life took a decisive turn when you attended a summer acting camp. The camp was located in a bustling city, a stark contrast to your quiet hometown. There, you met aspiring actors, directors, and producers and for the first time, felt like you belonged. Your talent was quickly recognized by the camp leaders, who encouraged you to pursue a career in acting.

Upon returning home, you were more determined than ever to follow your dreams. You participated in every theater production you could to hone your craft and build a portfolio of diverse roles. Your parents, though initially concerned about the uncertainty of an acting career, wholeheartedly supported you and believed in your talent and dedication.

At 18, you moved to Los Angeles, the hub of the entertainment industry. The transition was daunting, you were a small-town girl in a sprawling, fast-paced city. You faced numerous rejections and challenges, working several part-time jobs to make ends meet while attending auditions and acting classes.

Your perseverance paid off when you landed a small role in an independent film. Though the role was minor, your performance caught the attention of a prominent casting director. Impressed by your natural talent and screen presence, the director recommended you for an audition for an upcoming blockbuster film from a major studio.

Nervous but excited, you gave your best at the audition. Weeks later, you received the life-changing news: you were cast in the lead role of the blockbuster film. The film was a huge success and catapulted you into the spotlight, making you an overnight sensation.

The sudden fame was overwhelming. You went from an anonymous aspiring actress to a celebrity constantly in the public eye. Paparazzi followed your every move, tabloids speculated about your private life, and fans demanded autographs and selfies everywhere you went. Although you were grateful for your success and the opportunities it brought, the lack of privacy and constant scrutiny were challenging.

Despite the challenges, you remained grounded, thanks to the support of your family and close friends. You continued to focus on your craft, taking on diverse roles to prove your versatility as an actress. You also used your platform to advocate for causes you believed in, earning you respect and admiration beyond your acting abilities

You are known for your down-to-earth personality and genuine kindness. You cherish your close circle of friends and often retreat to your hometown to escape the pressures of Hollywood and reconnect with your roots. Your parents remain your biggest supporters, proud of your achievements but always reminding you of the values they instilled in you.

In your free time, you enjoy reading, painting, and exploring new hobbies. You are a passionate traveler and find inspiration in the various cultures and stories you encounter. Despite your fame, you strive to lead a relatively normal life and appreciate the simple pleasures that keep you grounded.

4 years later.

The evening of the premiere was a whirlwind of flashing cameras, excited fans, and palpable excitement in the air. You, dressed in a stunning gown that perfectly captured your rising star status, had just finished a series of red carpet interviews. You felt a mix of excitement and nerves; this night was special not only because of the premiere of your new film but also because you were nominated for an award for another project. It could be the night you finally take home the coveted trophy.

As the event continued, you felt the familiar but inconvenient need to use the restroom. The premiere was in full swing, and you needed to be on stage soon. You made your way through the bustling crowd, your heels clicking on the polished marble floor of the grand theater.

Finally, you spotted the restroom sign and quickened your pace. But as you reached the door, you encountered an imposing figure: a tall, striking woman with piercing eyes and an aura of authority. Dressed in black, the woman stood guard in front of the restroom door, her stance rigid and alert.

"Excuse me, I need to use the restroom," you said, trying to maintain your polite demeanor despite the urgency of your situation.

The woman, whom you would later learn was Natasha Romanoff, did not move. "The restroom is occupied." Natasha replied sharply and unyieldingly. "Okay, surely there is a second stall..." you pleaded, glancing at the closed door behind Natasha.

Natasha's eyes narrowed slightly. "You'll wait.“ Your patience was running thin. You were a rising star and not used to being dismissed so abruptly. "Come on, I need to go, please. This is really important."

Natasha's expression remained unmoved, her voice cold and professional. "I don't care where you need to go. My instruction is to ensure no one enters until it's clear. Now step back."

Frustration boiled within you. You couldn't believe this woman didn't recognize you, given the number of posters and billboards plastered with your face. "Listen, I understand you have a job to do, but so do I. And if I can't use the restroom right now, there will be a disaster."

Natasha smiled and leaned in slightly, "Then you'll have to hold it, sweetheart."

You were taken aback by the dismissive tone. You opened your mouth to retort, but before you could say anything, the door behind Natasha opened, and another actress emerged, thanking Natasha for her vigilance. The actress’s eyes widened when she saw you.

"Oh my God, Y/N! Congratulations on the nomination, I loved your performance in the last film.“ the women gushed, clearly impressed. You forced a smile, still simmering with frustration. "Thank you. I'd love to chat, but I really need to use the restroom." The women looked at Natasha with a mix of surprise and something different. "Did you talked to her?“

Natasha's gaze remained unwavering and ignoring the question of the Women. „The restroom is free now." she said, stepping aside without acknowledging the women’s comment. You didn't waste a second and hurried past Natasha with a grateful nod. Inside the restroom, you took a moment to breathe, still fuming from the encounter but also somehow fascinated by the unyielding bodyguard.

When you emerged a few minutes later, you felt much calmer. Natasha was still there, like a sentinel. You couldn't help but feel a sense of challenge. You weren't used to being treated like an ordinary person, and part of you found Natasha's attitude both infuriating and refreshing. Without a word, you walked past Natasha, not giving her a second glance. As you walked away, you heard Natasha call after you: "Next time, plan better."

Your cheeks flushed with anger. You clenched your fists and kept walking, refusing to give Natasha the satisfaction of a response. The audacity of this woman! You couldn't believe how rude and dismissive she had been.

The energy in the grand theater was electric. The audience buzzed with excitement as the prestigious awards ceremony reached its climax. You, still feeling the irritation from the encounter with Natasha, took a deep breath as you awaited the announcement of the award. The presenter, a well-known acting veteran, took the stage and held the envelope containing the winner's name. "And the award for Best Actress goes to..." He paused for dramatic effect, letting the suspense build. "Y/N L/N!"

The room erupted in applause and cheers. Your heart raced as you stood up, your initial frustration forgotten in the wave of exhilaration. You moved gracefully to the stage, your gown sparkling under the bright lights. As you accepted the trophy, you couldn't help but smile at the outpouring of admiration and support from your peers and fans.

With the trophy in hand, you took a moment to collect your thoughts before beginning your speech. "Wow, this is incredible. I can hardly believe I'm standing here holding this award. First, I want to thank the cast and crew who made this film possible. You are all amazing, and I couldn't have done this without you."

As you continued your speech, your eyes wandered over the crowd, taking in the sea of faces. Then you saw her. Natasha. Despite the distance, Natasha's piercing gaze was unmistakable. Your smile faltered for a brief moment, but you quickly recovered. Natasha watched you intently, a slight smile on her lips. When your eyes met, Natasha winked.

The gesture, small but significant, sent a wave of annoyance through you. You could feel your cheeks heat up, not from embarrassment, but from the irritating coolness of the woman who had previously dismissed you so rudely. You continued your speech, trying to ignore the irritation under your calm facade.

"...And finally, I want to thank my family and friends for their unwavering support. You believed in me, even when I didn't believe in myself. This award belongs to you as much as it does to me. Thank you all." With a final wave, you stepped off the stage, your mind racing. The applause followed you, but your thoughts were fixated on Natasha. It was infuriating.

Backstage, you were surrounded by well-wishers and photographers, but your thoughts kept drifting back to Natasha. You couldn't shake the feeling that your paths would cross again in a significant way..

A few days after the awards ceremony, your agent called you with concerning news. "Y/N, we need to talk about your safety for your tour. There have been some..incidents." You frowned, recalling the increasing number of intrusive paparazzi and overly enthusiastic fans. "What kind of incidents?"

"Threatening letters, suspicious individuals trying to get close to you. It's getting serious, and we think it's time for you to consider a professional bodyguard." You sighed. The idea of having a bodyguard felt like a double-edged sword. You valued your privacy, but recent events had made you feel vulnerable. "Alright, who do you have in mind?"

Your agent hesitated for a moment. "There's someone highly recommended, but she has a... unique style. Natasha Romanoff.“ Your eyes widened. "You must be joking."

"No? She's one of the best in the field. Her methods are unconventional, but she gets results. Given the current situation, I think she's the right person for the job, plus she’s available now.“ Your mind raced back to the Gala night, the unyielding stance, the cold demeanor, and that infuriating wink. But if Natasha was as good as they said, it might be worth a try. Reluctantly, you agreed.

The next morning, Natasha arrived punctually at the agreed time at your residence. Dressed in her usual black, she looked every bit the seasoned professional. You opened the door, your expression a mix of annoyance and curiosity. "So, we meet again." Natasha nodded, her face impassive. "Hello, sweetheart. Patience today?"

You crossed your arms and stood firm. "Just so we're clear, I don't need you to treat me like a child. I can take care of myself." Natasha's lips twitched into a barely perceptible smile. "Noted. But my job is to protect you, even if you don't like my methods." You felt a flicker of the same irritation you had experienced at the Gala. This was going to be an interesting arrangement, to say the least.

A few weeks after the charity gala, you attended a book signing event for one of your favorite authors. The bookstore was packed with fans and media, all eager to catch a glimpse of the rising star. Natasha, as always, was nearby, scanning the crowd for potential threats.

As you chatted with fans and signed autographs, you felt a growing unease. One particular fan, a middle-aged man, lingered closer than seemed appropriate. His intense gaze and the way he approached you made you uncomfortable.

"Hello, can I take a photo with you?" the man asked, his voice overly eager. You forced a polite smile. "Of course," you said, posing for a quick photo. As you tried to move on to the next fan, the man grabbed your arm.

"Wait, you looked so good in the last movie... your style and all..." he said, tightening his grip. Your smile faded, and you tried to pull your arm back. "Please let go."

The man's grip only tightened, and he began reaching into his pocket. Before you could react, Natasha stepped in. She moved with lightning speed, prying the man's hand off your arm and positioning herself between you.

"Step back." Natasha ordered, her voice cold and commanding. The man looked startled but did not move. "I just wanted to give her something!"

Natasha remained unmoved. "I said step back. Now." The intensity in Natasha's eyes and the firmness of her voice finally got through to the man. He stepped back and disappeared into the crowd. Your heart was racing, but you felt a wave of gratitude toward Natasha. "Thank you.." you said, your voice shaking. Natasha nodded, her eyes still scanning the crowd. "Time to go."

At home, you couldn't shake off the day's events. You sat on the couch, replaying the encounter in your mind. Natasha stood nearby, her stance as rigid as ever. "Are you okay?" Natasha asked, her voice softer than usual You nodded. "Yes, just... a bit shaken." Natasha sat across from you, her expression unreadable. "You handled it well. But you need to be more aware of your surroundings. Fans can be unpredictable." You sighed, feeling a mix of frustration and gratitude. "I know. I just didn't expect that."

"That's why I'm here," Natasha said, her tone firm but not unkind. "To expect the unexpected and keep you safe." You looked at Natasha, seeing her in a new light. Despite the rocky start, you realized how much you had come to rely on Natasha's presence. "I appreciate it.“

Natasha gave a crooked smile, a rare expression on her otherwise stoic face. "Just doing my job, princess." You rolled your eyes at the nickname but couldn't suppress a small smile. "You're impossible, you know that?" Natasha's smile widened. "And you're stubborn. I think we make a good team."

In the following weeks, your relationship developed further. There were still plenty of tensions and your share of arguments, but a mutual respect began to grow. Natasha's relentless professionalism and your determination to live your life on your own terms created a dynamic that was both challenging and oddly comforting.

One evening, as you were preparing for another public appearance and saw the crowds you had to move through, you stood closer to Natasha, her presence calming you. Natasha raised an eyebrow, her lips forming a teasing smile. "Careful, princess, it almost looks like you actually like me." You laughed and shook your head. "Don't push it, Romanoff. But, since you're here..." Natasha's smile softened a bit. "Anytime."

Despite the nicknames and teasing, there was an unspoken understanding between you both and you couldn't deny Natasha's skills and dedication. Natasha, for all her toughness, began to see the determination and drive behind your fame and youth that had brought you to this point. Slowly, you began to understand each other and formed an uneasy alliance.

Next up was another film premiere, where you were the guest of honor. The tension between you was palpable again, fueled by your contrasting personalities and constant proximity.

While you were getting ready, you felt Natasha's eyes on you, checking every detail. "You know, you don't have to watch me like a hawk." you said, your tone sharper than intended. Natasha leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. "It's my job to watch you."

"I can take care of myself." you snapped, turning fully to face her. Natasha's eyes narrowed. "Really? Because from where I stand, you've been pretty naive about the dangers around you."

You felt stung by the implication. "Naive? Just because I'm younger doesn't mean I'm clueless. I've worked hard to get here, and I don't need you undermining me." Natasha pushed off the doorframe and stepped closer. "And I don't need you questioning my every move. You hired me to protect you, and that's what I'm doing. If you don't like my methods, find someone else."

You glared at her, frustration boiling within you. "Maybe I will! I can't stand you treating me like a burden." Natasha's jaw clenched, her eyes flashing with anger. "You think I enjoy this? Looking after a spoiled little girl who doesn't appreciate what I do?"

The words hurt more than you cared to admit, and tears sprang to your eyes. "I'm definitely not spoiled! You don't know anything about me! And you know what? You are i-impossible, Natasha! I've had enough of your condescending attitude."

Natasha took a deep breath, clearly trying to rein in her temper. "Fine. Maybe I'm impossible. But at least I'm doing my job. You want to fire me? Go ahead. But don't come to me when everything falls apart."

You refused to let your tears fall. But Natasha saw them. "You're so arrogant... Do you even care about anything other than your job?" For a moment, Natasha's eyes softened, and you thought you saw a hint of regret, but it was gone in an instant. "I care about keeping you alive, even if you don't see it."

You turned away, struggling to compose yourself. "Just leave me alone for a moment." Natasha gave a curt nod and walked out, leaving you alone with your thoughts. You felt a mix of anger and guilt, knowing that despite everything, Natasha was right. The world you lived in was dangerous, and you needed someone like her to protect you.

Later that evening, you stood on the balcony of your hotel room, staring at the city lights. The day's events played over in your mind, and you felt a pang of guilt for the harsh words you'd thrown at Natasha. You heard the door open and turned to see Natasha, her expression unreadable. "Can I join you?" Natasha asked, her voice surprisingly gentle. You nodded, and Natasha stepped onto the balcony, leaning against the railing next to you.

"I'm sorry," you said after a moment of silence. "For what I said earlier. I didn't mean it." Natasha glanced at you, a hint of a smile on her lips. "I'm sorry too. I shouldn't have called you naive... and a little girl." You sighed and ran a hand through your hair. "It's just... this whole situation is new to me, okay? I'm not used to someone constantly having to watch over me."

"I know," Natasha said quietly. "And I'm not used to working with someone so... spirited as you. But I'm here to protect you, Y/N. Whether you like it or not." You couldn't help but laugh. "Spirited, huh? That's one way to put it." Natasha's smile widened. "You're tough, I'll give you that. But you need to trust me."

You nodded, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders. "I trust you. Even if you drive me crazy sometimes." Natasha chuckled. "The feeling is mutual, princess." You rolled your eyes at the nickname but couldn't suppress a smile. "Thank you, Natasha."

"Anytime," Natasha replied, her tone sincere. She looked at you, and before you could think too much about it, you turned and impulsively kissed Natasha on the lips. Natasha stiffened for a moment, then returned the kiss, her lips moving confidently against yours.

Your heart raced as you kissed Natasha, a surprising warmth flooding through you. As you pulled back slightly, you felt something firm press against your hip. Your eyes widened in surprise as you realized what it was. Natasha smirked, clearly noticing your reaction.

"Surprised?" Natasha asked, her voice deep and teasing. You nodded, still a bit stunned. "A little. I didn't see that coming.“ Natasha's smirk widened, a hint of pride in her eyes. "Well, I'm full of surprises."

You felt a blush creep over your cheeks, but you couldn't help but joke to cover your own nervousness. "Didn't know bodyguards got excited so easily." Natasha's eyes darkened with something more than just amusement. She leaned in closer, her breath warm against your ear. "Only when it's worth it."

Your breath caught as Natasha's hand lightly traced over your back, sending shivers down your spine. Natasha's presence was overwhelming, and you felt your heart pounding in your chest. Natasha leaned over you slightly, her lips brushing your ear. "You're playing a dangerous game, princess," she murmured, her voice husky with desire.

Your cheeks burned, and you felt a wave of excitement that both thrilled and embarrassed you. You opened your mouth to respond, but no words came out. Natasha straightened up, an amused glint in her eyes as she stepped back. "Get some rest," Natasha said, her voice returning to its usual calm tone. "You have a big day tomorrow."

With that, Natasha turned and walked back into the hotel room, leaving you standing on the balcony, your mind racing and your body buzzing with emotions. As you stood there, the cool night air brushing your skin, you knew that things between you and Natasha would never be the same again. When you lay down that night, replaying the memory of the kiss and Natasha's teasing words, you couldn't help but smile, your heart racing with excitement and curiosity about what the future would bring.

Your schedule had become a whirlwind of appearances, interviews, and fan interactions as you toured to promote your latest film. Everywhere you went, enthusiastic fans awaited you, clamoring for autographs and selfies. Natasha was always close by.

One afternoon, you were at a signing event in a busy city. The line of fans stretched around the block, and you took time with each person, chatting and taking photos. However, Natasha noticed a pattern: you were livelier and smiled brighter when interacting with your female fans. It was something you did unconsciously, but Natasha picked up on it.

During a break, Natasha couldn't resist commenting. "You really come alive around the ladies, don't you, princess?" she said, her tone teasing but with a hint of something else. You raised an eyebrow, noting the subtle undertone in Natasha's voice. "What's that supposed to mean?" Natasha shrugged, a smirking smile on her lips. "Just an observation. You seem to enjoy their company more."

You felt a spark of defiance. Remembering the balcony scene and Natasha's teasing nature, you decided to push it further. If Natasha wanted to tease you, you'd give her a taste of her own medicine. "Maybe I do," you said, your tone playful. "Is that a problem?" Natasha's eyes narrowed slightly, but she maintained her cool demeanor. "Not at all. Just interesting to watch."

You decided to take it up a notch. For the rest of the event, you made an extra effort to be even more attentive with your female fans. You laughed louder, leaned in closer for photos, and gave their conversations more attention. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Natasha watching, her jaw tensing slightly.

You found it immensely amusing. You liked seeing the usually unflappable Natasha show a bit of emotion, especially jealousy. It gave you a sense of power in your otherwise tense dynamic.

Later that evening, you returned to the hotel. You were in high spirits, still buoyed by the interactions of the day and the success of your plan to annoy Natasha. As you entered the hotel suite, Natasha finally spoke. "You really enjoyed today, didn't you?“ You turned to her, a mischievous glint in your eyes. "Oh, I did. It was a lot of fun. Especially to see how you lose your composure"

Natasha's eyes flashed with a mix of frustration and something deeper. "My composure? I have not lost my composure." You stepped closer, lowering your voice to a teasing whisper. "Sure looked like it to me." Natasha's gaze hardened, but there was no denying the hint of jealousy there. "Careful, Y/N."

You felt a thrill at the challenge in Natasha's voice. "Nope." Natasha stepped closer, the tension between you crackling like electricity. "You're testing my patience." You smiled, enjoying the power you held in this moment. "And what are you going to do about it?"

Natasha's eyes darkened with desire, and she stepped closer, her body only inches from yours. "Do you really want to know?" Your heart pounded in your chest, the air between you thick with tension. "Maybe I do.“ Natasha leaned in, her lips brushing your ear. "Don't forget who you're playing with, princess. I don't give in easily."

You felt a shiver run down your spine, but you refused to back down. "Good. Neither do I." Natasha's smile widened, and for a moment, you thought she would kiss you again. But when Natasha turned and walked away, you couldn't help but feel a mix of frustration and excitement. You had pushed Natasha's buttons and gotten a reaction, but you knew that this game you were playing was far from over.

In the following days, you continued to tease Natasha, finding new ways to provoke her jealousy. You found it incredibly amusing to see the normally composed bodyguard show signs of possessiveness. And despite the tension, there was an undeniable thrill in your interactions. Natasha seemed to enjoy the challenge as well. She never backed down and always met your provocations with her own brand of teasing and intensity. Your relationship was a constant back-and-forth, filled with playful banter and underlying desire.

The evening of the final premiere had arrived, and you were in your hotel suite, getting ready for the event. Your hair and makeup team were putting the finishing touches on your look, ensuring every detail was perfect. You wore a stunning dress that hugged your curves in all the right places, the shimmering fabric catching the light beautifully. You looked every bit the star you were, ready to captivate the crowd and cameras.

As you admired your reflection in the mirror, the door to your suite opened. Natasha walked in, looking as composed and confident as ever. She wore her usual black ensemble but had her jacket casually slung over her shoulder, and her blouse was unbuttoned just enough to reveal a hint of her toned chest. The sight made your heart skip a beat, and you hated yourself for finding Natasha so attractive.

Natasha's eyes scanned over you appreciatively, a small smile playing on her lips. "Well, don't you look like a million dollars tonight." You rolled your eyes and tried to hide your blush. "Thanks. You don't look too bad yourself."

Natasha chuckled and stepped closer. "You really know how to turn heads, princess. Try not to cause too many heart attacks out there." You felt a mix of irritation and something warmer, more exciting. "I'll do my best." you said, your tone half teasing, half serious. Natasha's smile widened. "Remember, I'm here to protect you. Can't have you distracting me too much." You laughed and shook your head. "I'll try not to be too much of a distraction."

Natasha's gaze lingered on you for a moment longer before she nodded. "Good. Ready to go?" You took a deep breath and cast one last look in the mirror. "Ready."

The red carpet was a flurry of activity, with flashing cameras and cheering fans. You moved gracefully through the crowd, stopping for interviews and photos. Natasha was always nearby, her eyes scanning the surroundings for potential threats. Despite the busy environment, your mind was elsewhere. You had been thinking about the ongoing game with Natasha, the back-and-forth of your interactions, and the growing tension between you. Tonight, you decided, you would take it a step further.

As you entered the theater for the premiere, you could feel the electricity in the air. You excused yourself from the group of people you were with and moved to a quieter part of the lobby. Natasha followed you, her vigilant eyes missing nothing. "Everything okay?" Natasha asked, her tone professional but with a hint of curiosity. You turned to her, a playful glint in your eyes. "Oh, I just needed a moment. It's so hectic out there."

Natasha nodded, her stance relaxed but alert. "You should have thought of that before." You stepped closer, your hand lightly brushing Natasha's arm. "You weren't so grumpy earlier. What's with the attitude now?"

Natasha raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued but cautious. "I'm not grumpy. I'm just doing my job." You smiled, your hand sliding down to Natasha's waist, your fingers tracing the edge of her pants. “Loosen up a little, it’s fine to be a risky once in a while, Natasha.”

Natasha's eyes darkened with desire as she realized your intentions. "You're giving me a handjob at your premiere. We're thinking of two different versions of risk." You leaned in, your breath warm against Natasha's ear. "Maybe I like my version better." Your hand moved bolder, stroking over the bulge in Natasha's pants. Natasha gasped, but quickly placed her hand over yours to stop your movements. Her grip was firm, and a smirking smile played on her lips as she leaned closer, her voice a soft, seductive whisper.

"You think you're clever, don't you?" Natasha murmured, her breath hot against your ear. "If you keep this up, I'll have you on your knees, begging for more. I'll fuck you so hard you won't be able to walk straight for a week." Your heart raced at Natasha's words, a shiver running down your spine. You felt a mix of excitement and nervousness, your breath hitching.

Natasha stepped back slightly, her eyes meeting yours. "You have no idea what you're getting into, princess." You tried to regain your composure. "Then show me." Natasha's smile turned dangerous and seductive. "Not here. Not now."

Your heart raced, your mind buzzing with anticipation. You stepped back slightly, your eyes meeting Natasha's. "When then?" Natasha's smile was dangerous and seductive. "You'll see." You felt a thrill run through you. You had challenged Natasha, and now you were ready for whatever came next. As you returned to the premiere, the tension between you was palpable, an unspoken promise of things to come.

The premiere went smoothly, but your and Natasha's thoughts were elsewhere. The silent promise you had exchanged hung between you, intensifying every glance, every touch. As the event came to an end, you felt both excited and nervous about what would happen next. Natasha's presence, as always, was a calming force, but now it was charged with a new kind of tension.

As you finally returned to the hotel, you couldn't resist teasing Natasha one last time. "So, what's next, bodyguard? Do you still think I'm playing a dangerous game?" Natasha's eyes were dark with promise as she stepped closer. "Oh, princess, the game has only just begun." You felt a shiver of excitement. "Good. I wouldn't want it any other way."

You turned to head to your room, thinking you had the upper hand. But before you could take more than a few steps, Natasha grabbed your arm and effortlessly swung you over her shoulder. You gasped in surprise as Natasha carried you into the bedroom.

"Natasha! W-What are you doing!?" you exclaimed, your voice a mix of shock and excitement. Natasha didn't answer immediately. Instead, she gave you a quick, firm smack on your butt, making you gasp. "You wanted to play games, princess. Now it's my turn." Your heart raced as Natasha carried you into the bedroom and tossed you onto the bed. Natasha stood at the foot of the bed, removing her jacket and unbuttoning her blouse with deliberate slowness, her eyes never leaving yours.

"You've been teasing me all night," Natasha said, her voice deep and commanding. "Now it's time to show you what happens when you play with fire." You felt a wave of heat wash over you as you watched Natasha undress. You bit your lip, your breath catching in anticipation.

Natasha climbed onto the bed, her movements predatory and deliberate. She leaned over you, her hands pinning your wrists above your head as she kissed you deeply and possessively. You responded eagerly, your body arching into Natasha's. She broke the kiss, her lips brushing your ear. "You belong to me tonight, princess. And I'm going to make sure you remember it."

Your faces were only inches apart, and you could feel Natasha's breath on your skin. The tension between you crackled like electricity, a mix of anger and desire. Your teasing had always been a game to provoke Natasha, but now, faced with the intensity of Natasha's gaze, you realized how far you had pushed her.

"You drive me crazy, Y/N," Natasha whispered, her voice rough. "Now it's my turn." Your heart skipped a beat, your body trembling with anticipation. "Then don't hold back, please.." you replied, your voice barely more than a whisper. Natasha's smile widened, and she leaned in, her lips brushing your ear. "Oh, I don't plan to."

Natasha's lips crashed onto yours, the kiss fierce and demanding. You responded eagerly, your body arching into Natasha's, your skin tingling with the intensity of the moment. Natasha's hands moved purposefully, one sliding down your side, her fingertips tracing the hem of your dress before slipping underneath.

You gasped into the kiss as Natasha's fingers drew patterns on your skin, sending waves of pleasure through you. You had never experienced such a touch, so firm, so assured. It was as if Natasha knew exactly how to unravel you. "Natasha.." you breathed, your voice trembling with desire. "Please..." Natasha pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, her gaze fierce and intense. "Oh, I like that. Please what?" she demanded, her tone commanding.

"Please... more.." you begged, your body aching for Natasha's touch. A satisfied smile spread across Natasha’s face as she obliged, her fingers finding their way to your most sensitive spots, drawing moans and gasps from you that filled the room. Your world narrowed to the sensation of Natasha's touch, your body responding with an intensity you had never known.

Natasha's hands moved expertly, teasing and pleasing you until you trembled with desire. Just as you thought you couldn't take anymore, Natasha pulled back slightly, her gaze dark and full of promise. "You're not ready for what's coming next," Natasha said, her voice deep and husky. She stood up, her movements intentionally slow, giving you a moment to catch your breath.

You watched with wide eyes as Natasha unbuckled her belt, your gaze following her every move. As Natasha's pants fell to the floor, you caught your breath. There, proud and ready, was Natasha's member. Natasha reached into her pocket and pulled out a condom, rolling it on with practiced ease.

"You were prepared," you teased, your voice breathless. "Did you know the night would end like this?" Natasha gave you a sly smile. "I had a feeling. And by the end of the night, you won't have that attitude anymore."

Your body responded to Natasha's words, a mix of excitement and anticipation coursing through you. Natasha climbed back onto the bed, positioning herself between your legs. She leaned in to capture your lips in another searing kiss, her hands roaming over your body, stoking the flames of desire even higher.

As Natasha slowly entered you, you gasped at the sensation, your body arching into hers. The feeling was unlike anything you had ever experienced, a perfect blend of pleasure and connection. Natasha moved with a careful rhythm, watching your reactions to ensure every movement brought you joy. "Do you like that?" Natasha whispered, her voice deep and rough. "Do you like feeling me inside you?"

"Y-Yes, oh God, yes.." you moaned, your hands clutching at Natasha's back, your nails digging into her skin as waves of pleasure washed over you. "Good," Natasha growled, increasing her pace slightly. "Because I'm not stopping until you've learned your lesson." Your breath grew heavy, your moans louder with each thrust. Natasha's lips found your neck, kissing you, making you tremble. Natasha's hand slipped between you, her fingers brushing over your clit in teasing, light touches.

"Natasha!" you gasped, your body jolting at the sudden rush of pleasure. "Please, stop..."

"Just a taste of your own medicine," Natasha murmured, her voice a husky whisper against your skin. She kept her slow, torturous rhythm, her fingers lightly dancing over your sensitive spot, driving you wild with desire. Your frustration mingled with your arousal, the teasing making you desperate. "Please, Natasha... I need more.." you begged, your voice trembling.

Natasha's smile deepened, savoring your pleading. "You need to learn that actions have consequences," she said, her pace increasing, each thrust deeper and harder. "Is this what you wanted, Y/N? To be dominated, made to beg?"

"Yes, yes!" you whimpered, your body arching, seeking more. "Please, Natasha, I need you..“ Seeing your desperation, Natasha finally relented. She increased her pace, her thrusts becoming rougher, harder. Her fingers pressed firmly against your clit, rubbing in perfect rhythm with her movements. "You feel so good," Natasha groaned, her own arousal evident in her voice. "So tight around me. You love being fucked like this, don't you?"

„God.." you cried, your body shaking with the intensity of your pleasure. "Don't stop, please don't stop."

"I'm not," Natasha promised, her voice rough with desire. She began slowly, her thrusts gentle and deliberate, giving you time to adjust to the new sensation. Each movement was measured, designed to build the pleasure slowly. Her fingers pressed firmly against your clit, rubbing in perfect rhythm with her movements. "You feel so good," Natasha groaned, her own arousal evident in her voice. "So tight around me. I told you how it would end."

"Oh God!" you cried, your body shaking with the intensity of your pleasure. "Don't stop, please don't stop..“ Natasha's breath came heavy, her movements becoming more urgent. "You're going to take everything I give you," she growled. "And you're going to love it." Natasha's eyes burned with a mix of desire and something deeper. "Turn around," she commanded, her voice rough. "I want to take you from behind."

You complied, your body trembling with anticipation. Natasha positioned herself behind you, her hands gripping your hips firmly. With one swift motion, Natasha entered you again, the new angle sending a fresh wave of pleasure through your body. "God, you feel so good," Natasha groaned, her pace rough and relentless. "Do you like this, Y/N? Do you like being fucked like this?"

"Yes, Natasha, y-yees.." you cried, your body pushing back against each thrust. "Harder, please, harder..“ Natasha's grunts filled the room, her movements becoming more powerful, each thrust driving you closer to the edge. "Fuck, what would your fans say if they saw you like this?" she growled.

Your world was a whirl of sensations, your body burning with pleasure. "Please, please, please!" you gasped, your voice breaking with need. "Please, I'm so close.."

Natasha's hands slid to your shoulders, pulling you back with each thrust, her pace unrelenting. "I want to see your face when you come," Natasha demanded, her voice rough. You turned, your eyes meeting Natasha's intense gaze. Natasha didn't break the connection, her thrusts deep and powerful, her eyes locked on yours. "You're so beautiful," Natasha murmured, her voice filled with raw emotion. "Come for me, Y/N. I want to see you come."

Your body obeyed, the intensity of Natasha's gaze and the power of her movements driving you over the edge. You called out Natasha's name, your body trembling with the force of your orgasm, your eyes never leaving Natasha's. She followed you, her own orgasm hitting her hard, her body tensing with the release. She held you close, your bodies entwined, the intensity of your connection overwhelming.

When it was over, Natasha collapsed beside you, both of you breathing heavily, your bodies slick with sweat. You looked up at Natasha, your eyes shining with gratitude and something deeper. "That was... incredible," you whispered, your voice shaking. Natasha smiled, brushing a strand of hair from your face. "You're incredible," she replied softly, her touch now tender, filled with affection.

You snuggled into Natasha's embrace, feeling safe. You had challenged Natasha, teased her, but now you understood the depth of it and the passion that lay beneath your banter. It was a night you would indeed never forget.

The next morning, the sunlight filtered gently through the curtains of your hotel room, casting a warm glow across the bed. You stirred slowly, a pleasant ache in your muscles reminding you of the intense connection you had shared with Natasha the previous night. A contented smile spread across your face as you replayed the events in your mind. The way Natasha had made you feel cherished and desired was unlike anything you had experienced before.

As you stretched lazily, you noticed Natasha already up and moving around the room, her movements efficient and purposeful as she dressed in her black uniform. Still feeling the warmth of the night, you sat up and instinctively pulled the blanket around you.

Natasha caught sight of your movement and smirked. "You don't have to hide under the blanket, princess," she teased, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "I've already seen everything." You felt a blush rise to your cheeks but managed a small smile. "Force of habit, I guess." Natasha chuckled softly and walked over to the bed, sitting down beside you. She reached out and gently brushed a strand of hair from your face. "How are you feeling?"

You leaned into her touch, savoring the intimacy. "Good. Better than good, actually." Natasha's smile softened, and she pressed a tender kiss to your forehead. "Good. We've got a busy day ahead. Remember, it's the final interview for the film today." You nodded, the reality of the day settling in. "Right. The last interview." Natasha's eyes searched yours, a hint of concern flickering in them. "Are you ready for it?"

You sighed, feeling a pang of anxiety. "I think so. Just... nervous, I guess." Natasha squeezed your hand reassuringly. "You'll do great. And I'll be right there with you."

As Natasha continued getting ready, you reached for your phone on the nightstand. Unlocking it, you saw a barrage of notifications. Among the messages was one from a close friend, marked urgent. Curiosity piqued, you opened the message thread.

The message read: "Y/N, have you seen these articles? Be careful with Natasha Romanoff. She's got a reputation." Attached were several links to articles and gossip columns detailing Natasha's past relationships, her numerous one-night stands, and her professional life as a bodyguard. The headlines screamed warnings about her dangerous allure and the trail of broken hearts she had left behind.

Your heart sank as you scrolled through the articles, each one chipping away at the happiness you had felt just moments before. The friend’s message continued: "I just don't want to see you get hurt. She might be good at her job, but she's also known for not sticking around."

Natasha's teasing smile from this morning flashed in your mind: "You don't have to hide under the blanket, princess. I've already seen everything." What if you were just another conquest for her? The memory of her passionate words from last night seemed suddenly tainted "You belong to me tonight, princess. And I'm going to make sure you remember it."

Natasha noticed the shift in your expression and the way you had gone quiet, your eyes glued to your phone. "Y/N, is everything okay?" she asked, concern lacing her voice. You quickly locked your phone and forced a smile. "Yeah, just... some messages." But the seed of doubt had been planted. Despite your efforts to focus, the words from the articles lingered in your mind. Was last night just another notch on Natasha's belt?

As you got ready, Natasha left you alone for a moment to gather your thoughts. The anxiety gnawed at you, turning the warmth you had felt into a cold pit in your stomach.

The day passed in a blur of preparations and travel to the interview location. Your mind kept drifting back to the articles, the warnings, the doubt. By the time you arrived at the studio, the unease had settled deep within you.

When the time for the interview finally arrived, you found yourself sitting in a brightly lit studio, facing a well-known interviewer. The cameras rolled, and the interview began. You tried to concentrate, but your mind kept wandering, haunted by the headlines and Natasha's reputation. "So, Y/N, this film has been a huge success. How has the journey been for you?" You forced a smile, trying to gather your thoughts. "It's been incredible. The cast and crew were amazing, and I learned so much."

But even as you spoke, you couldn't shake the memory of Natasha's voice from last night"Do you like feeling me inside you?"

"Can you share any particularly memorable moments from the set?" You hesitated, your mind momentarily blank. "Uh, there were so many great moments. I think... the camaraderie we shared off-camera was really special."

Natasha's teasing smile from this morning flashed in your mind "You don't have to hide under the blanket, princess. I've already seen everything."

"What are your plans after this film? Any new projects in the pipeline?" You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of uncertainty pressing down on you. "I'm exploring a few options, but nothing's set in stone yet."

Natasha's concern earlier replayed in your mind "Are you ready for it?" The interview continued, but your responses grew increasingly mechanical. Natasha, standing just off-camera, noticed the shift in your demeanor. Her brow furrowed with concern as she watched you, sensing something was wrong. She began to worry that she had overstepped last night, that perhaps she had pushed you too far.

When the interview finally concluded, you left the studio feeling drained and unsettled. Natasha was by your side immediately, her eyes filled with worry. "Y/N, what's wrong?" Natasha asked, her voice gentle yet urgent. "Did something happen during the interview?"

You shook your head, avoiding her gaze. "No, it's not that. I just... need some space right now." Natasha's heart clenched at your words. She followed you silently back to the hotel, the worry gnawing at her. Had she misread the signals? Had she taken things too far last night? The thought of having hurt you in any way made her feel sick.

Back in the hotel room, you sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the floor. Natasha hovered nearby, her concern evident "Y/N, please talk to me," Natasha said softly. "I can't help if I don't know what's wrong." You took a deep breath, feeling the tears welling up in your eyes. "I'm.. scared, Natasha..“

Natasha's heart ached at the vulnerability in your voice. She stepped closer, her hand gently cupping your cheek. "Scared of what? Talk to me, please." You finally met her gaze, the tears spilling over. "I'm scared that last night... that it was just a one-time thing for you. That you only wanted me for my body."

Natasha's eyes widened in shock, and she immediately knelt in front of you, taking your hands in hers. "W-What?“ You reluctantly lifted your gaze to hers, seeing the sincerity and depth of her feelings reflected in her eyes. "Last night was not just a one-time thing for me," Natasha said firmly. "I didn't just want you for your body. You mean so much more to me than that."

You searched her eyes, your voice trembling. "But what if... what if this changes things between us? What if it's just a fling?" Natasha shook her head, her grip on your hands gentle but steady. "It won't be. Because I care about you, Y/N. More than I've cared about anyone in a long time. Last night meant everything to me, and I don't want it to end there." Tears flowed freely now, and Natasha wiped them away with her thumbs, her gaze never leaving yours.

"But what about all these articles and rumors about you?" you asked, the fear and doubt still lingering in your voice. "They say you've had so many one-night stands and relationships that didn't last. How do I know I'm not just another one?" Natasha sighed deeply, her expression turning serious. "Do you remember the actress you met at the restroom at the Gala?" You nodded, recalling the striking woman who had seemed so authoritative.

"Her name is Jessica," Natasha continued. "We were in a relationship a few month ago. It was toxic and manipulative. When I finally managed to leave her, she was furious. She threatened to ruin my reputation if I ever left her." Natasha pulled out her phone and showed you a message thread. "Here, look at this." She scrolled to a particular message and handed you the phone. The message read:

"If you leave, I will destroy your life, your reputation, everything, Natasha. No one will ever trust you again."

You felt a chill run down your spine as you read the words. Natasha's voice was steady but filled with pain. "She's the one who started those rumors and spread the articles. I'm already taking legal action against her, but these things take time."

You looked up at Natasha, seeing the sincerity and anguish in her eyes. "I had no idea..." Natasha cupped your face gently. "I would never use you, Y/N. What we have is real, and I want to protect it. Protect you. Please believe me."

You searched her eyes, feeling the sincerity in her words. "But how can I be sure?" Natasha's grip on your hands tightened, her gaze unwavering. "Because I'm standing here, telling you this. I'm not going anywhere, Y/N. I want to be with you, not just for a night, but for as long as you'll have me."

You felt a flood of relief and emotion wash over you. "I want that too, Natasha. I just... I needed to know." Natasha pulled you into a tight embrace, holding you close. "You don't have to be afraid. I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere." You clung to her, feeling the warmth and strength of her presence. The fear and doubt that had plagued you melted away in the face of Natasha's unwavering support.

As the day continued, you felt a renewed sense of connection and understanding with Natasha. The bond between you had deepened, forged through honesty and vulnerability. With the whirlwind of your film promotion tour finally over, you felt a mix of relief and excitement as you arrived back at your home. For the first time in months, you had some well-deserved time off. Natasha, your steadfast bodyguard, was right by your side as you walked through the front door of your cozy house.

"Home sweet home.." you sighed, dropping your bags and stretching your arms. The familiar surroundings brought a sense of peace that you had missed during your hectic schedule.

Natasha smiled, leaning against the doorway. "It's nice to see you relax." You turned to her, a question lingering in your mind. "So, what happens now? Do you move on to another client with a tour or something?" Natasha raised an eyebrow, her smile widening. "Actually, I took some time off too."

Your eyes widened in surprise. "Really? You took time off to stay here?" Natasha nodded, stepping closer. "Yes, I wanted to spend more time with you. I meant what I said a few days ago, Y/N."

A wave of warmth and happiness washed over you. "You really do care," you whispered, feeling your heart swell with affection. Natasha cupped your face gently, her eyes soft and sincere. "I care a lot, and I want to make the most of this time we have together."

The next few days were blissful. You and Natasha spent time just enjoying each other's company, something you hadn't been able to do during the tour. The bond between you grew stronger, built on trust and genuine affection. One lazy afternoon, as you lounged on the couch together, you started discussing potential vacation destinations. "We should go somewhere special," you suggested, scrolling through various travel websites on your laptop. "How about a trip to a secluded beach resort? Just the two of us."

Natasha leaned in, looking at the screen. "That sounds perfect." You found a beautiful resort that offered private bungalows by the ocean and various activities for couples. "This one looks amazing," you said excitedly. "Let me book it."

Before you could click the "book now" button, the doorbell rings, "Food is here!" You sprint over and meanwhile Natasha took the laptop and made the booking. When you come back with two pizza boxes, you pouted playfully. "Hey! I wanted to pay for it!“ Natasha chuckled, pulling you into her arms. "I know, but I wanted to do this for us." You gave her a mock glare. "You're impossible, you know that?"

Natasha silenced you with a gentle kiss, her lips soft and tender against yours. "Shush," she whispered against your lips. "Let me take care of you for once." You melted into her embrace, feeling the love and care she poured into every touch and kiss. "Okay," you murmured, a smile tugging at your lips. "I guess I can let you spoil me this time."

The anticipation of your upcoming trip added an extra layer of excitement to your days. You spent your time planning activities and daydreaming about the sun, sand, and sea. The more you got to know Natasha in this relaxed setting, the more you realized how deeply you felt for her. As the departure date for your vacation approached, you and Natasha packed your bags with a mix of excitement and eagerness. The thought of being in a beautiful, secluded place with her made your heart race.

Finally, the day arrived, and you both boarded the plane to your dream destination. The flight was smooth, filled with laughter and light conversations about the adventures you planned to have. Upon landing, you were greeted with warm ocean breezes and the sound of waves crashing on the shore.

Your bungalow was even more beautiful than the pictures, nestled right on the beach with a stunning view of the turquoise waters. As you stepped inside, you felt a sense of tranquility wash over you. "This is perfect," you sighed, looking out at the ocean from the large windows. Natasha wrapped her arms around you from behind, resting her chin on your shoulder. "It really is. I'm glad we're here together."

You turned in her arms, looking up at her with a smile. "Me too. Thank you for everything, Natasha." She leaned down and kissed you softly. "Anything for you, Princess." The days that followed were filled with pure bliss. You and Natasha spent your time exploring the beach, swimming in the crystal-clear waters, and enjoying romantic dinners under the stars. Each moment felt like a precious gift, strengthening the bond you shared.

[pixiepipedreams]

༺୨♡︎୧༺ — i am your angel of music // prologue

♡  ⁄  pairing: in-ho x reader, eventual gi-hun x reader ♡  ⁄  warnings & tags: fem!reader, obsessive behavior, lying/manipulation, age gap (reader is in her 20s, in-ho & gi-hun are late in their 40s), eventual mature themes ♡  ⁄ wordcount: 1.6k ♡  ⁄ summary: a mere background dancer in the sigongkwan theater, you've spent the last year receiving voice lessons from your angel of music. PHANTOM OF THE OPERA AU. (or should i call it, frontman of the opera--)

》﹒˚ ₊ ︵﹒⊹ ๑ ⊹* 。 • 。* ☾☼☽ * 。° 。* ⊹ ๑ ���﹒︵ ₊ ˚﹒ 《

A calm hush has settled over Sigongkwan Theatre. Sure, the sub-level basement, directly under the theater, plays host to the rehearsal after-party, debauchery unleashing on the theater group after a day of exhaustive work. But the halls, the dressing rooms, the theater itself, all remain silent and darkened. Few buildings have electricity in the newly divided southern Korea, and Sigongkwan relies on gas lamps and candles. With almost every resident of the theater in the only known basement level, the halls remain shrouded in midnight.

Every room is silent. Silent, but, at the very end of the hallway, there’s flickering glow peeking through the crack of the final door and the floor below it. It's only noticeable if you’re very close, if your eye catches on it.

The room is silent, an unused dressing room - except for a couple hours every night. The only light to see by are two candles - both lit by you. One for yourself, and one for the angel that visits you. Angels don't need light, you know this – it's out of respect more than anything else. You sit in front of the mirror, the dark room lingering behind you, an omnipotent presence that you could fear.

You're not afraid. You never would be. Not when your angel is coming.

The simple cotton dress that covers your legs as you sit in near-darkness is white, traditional sleepwear that leaves you open, vulnerable. To nobody else would you show yourself like this. Your hair is still wavy from the braid you wear to rehearsals, where you perform as a simple ensemble dancer. No lines, and certainly no singing part, has ever been assigned to you. When you first joined the theater group, your audition had only been for the part of dancer. Your voice was like an unpolished jewel, a precious gem that you’d tucked away to gather dust and lose its clarity after the death of your father.

Your angel believes you deserve to be the star. His quiet praise is just as intoxicating as his singing, even if you have a hard time believing you deserve anything more than the shadows you tuck yourself away in. His shadows.

“My dear muse.” A soft voice, quiet and measured, but somehow it always fills the room. Your wide eyes shine in the darkness, looking around for him like you always do, though he’s never revealed himself to you. It’s always just you and your own reflection, the two candles, and his voice. “Your performance today was the epitome of grace, elegance.” Head tilting, your eyes flutter shut, savoring the sound of that enigmatic voice.

A smile graces your lips, and you wait to hear more, but it doesn’t come. He speaks as little as is necessary, in these lessons, these secret meetings where you commune with the heaven he brings to you. “My angel,” you whisper, your voice hardly more than a breath. “Thank you. You’re too kind, as always.” Your fingers splay over the skirt of your dress, smoothing over the wrinkles, the desire to be perfect for him. “I am humbled by your return every night, to better my voice. I only wish to make you proud.” You duck your head respectfully, your voice filled with the ever-present awe of this gift he’s devoted to giving you. “I only wish I could give you something in return, more than this candle - an offering? Prayer?” Though, you and he both know that you pray to him nightly, that every moment on stage is an offering to him.

“Your melodic voice is the only gift in this room, dearest muse.” His murmur is like a balm to your soul, grace touching your ears. “Shall we begin our lesson?”

Little do you know, your dear angel watches you through the mirror you sit so devotedly in front of. Man, not angel, not pure heavenly being. He watches you, as always, with dark eyes, your perfect form, the way your own gaze seems to find his face, even in the dark, even with his obscured figure. It used to make him worry, that you saw through his trick mirror, his ruse, his little game. It doesn't feel like much of a game anymore - this obsession, deep and insidious, that has claimed him as surely as it has you.

The first time he’d heard your voice, it was sweet honey dripping down the side of a cup of yuja tea. You had thought you were alone - perhaps you were. He’s nothing more than a phantom, after all, a ghost stalking the walls and rafters of the theater. It was in those very walls that he’d first spied on you, heard the way you quietly sung to yourself as you brushed your hair. Fixation. Instant fixation. In a decade or so of solitude, you had shimmered like a vigil of hope. Watching you was easy, spending most of his days listening as you quietly lingered in the background, on the edges of the performance group. Your one friend, Yong-sik, was how In-ho learned more about you, your father. Your belief in him, like religion, and your certainty that one day, he would send to you an angel.

You made it too easy.

Whispers that would call to you in your small room, practically a closet, until one night you were drawn from your bed, following them down the halls. Until you came across this very room. One burning candle, and one unlit.

He can still see the confusion that had clouded your expression, but also the hope. As if you already understood what he wanted from you, you’d lit the other candle. Accepting him, offering yourself. That was the first night that he sang for you, taught you one of his songs. And slowly, ever so carefully, he coaxed out your persimmon-sweet voice. Since that night, over a year ago now, he’s coached you, taught you - and you, always his faithful student, were such a quick learner.

Perhaps tonight, In-ho feels nostalgic. The gentle tilt of your face, the perfect fall of your hair… You look the same as the first night, but now, there is only pure trust and adoration in your expression. His perfect muse. “Night and day… you are the one,” he croons in a low voice, carrying each note with a sweet caress. “Only you beneath the moon or under the sun… Whether near to me or far... it's no matter, darling, where you are... I think of you… Night and day....”

Just like that first night, you answer with the response to his call, your sweet voice carrying the next lines. Lighting the second candle, like you always do. “Day and night… Why is it so…. that this longing for you follows wherever I go?” Your eyes close slightly, lost in the words, in the joy of singing. “Hibiscus flowers’ bloom…. In the silence of my lonely room... I think of you… Night and day....”

“Like the persistent drip of raindrops…” He calls.

“When the summer shower is through…” You respond.

And finally, finally, your voices join together, mixing into the most saccharine melody, a perfect match. “So a voice within me keeps repeating you, you, you…” It’s the sweetest euphoria, a delicious drug running through his veins. He watches you, your eyes closed, your expression absolute bliss, and he knows you feel it too, the union of your voices, of your very souls. “Night and day, under the hide of me… There's such a hungry yearning burning inside of me… And its torment won't be through… ‘Till you let me spend my life devoted to you…” Your eyes flutter open, the glaze in them almost pushing him to slide away the mirror and pull you directly into his arms, to see you crumble into him. You’re beautiful, perfect, just like this, looking like you’re enchanted, just from his voice, from feeling it swirl inside you.

“Day and night…”

“Night and day…”

Your voices overlap on the final line, two perfect counterparts, and you take a shuddering gasp as the familiar melody finishes. That song… the very first one he taught you… It feels different, now. You’ve learned so much as his student, but also… you’ve grown so deeply fond of your angel. The sound of the music you make together is nothing short of rapturous. A dreamy smile spreads across your lips, and you blink, wishing, yearning for more, always more.

“Don’t go, my angel,” you say, before you can stop yourself. “Forgive me, I-I speak out of turn, I ask too much of you, but…” But it’s a lonely existence, in this theater. More so, you’ve been lonely ever since your father passed. Though you grew up without a mother, your father had loved you enough to fill both parental roles - your childhood had been filled with laughter and light, singing and music.

You lost the music, for years. But now, your angel, sent by your father himself, has brought it all back, by candlelight and the beams of the moon. You’d forgo every single break of dawn if it meant the loneliness would end, to fill your life with that harmony that only he brings you.

A soft sound, almost a sigh - or maybe the wind outside, tricking your ears, for surely angels don’t sigh? “Soon, my perfection,” he murmurs, his words sending a shudder through you. “Our union is near, sweet [Y/N]... just know, I am always by your side, always with you…”

It sounds like a promise, like everything you've ever wanted. So why does a chill run down your spine?

》﹒˚ ₊ ︵﹒⊹ ๑ ⊹* 。 • 。* ☾☼☽ * 。° 。* ⊹ ๑ ⊹﹒︵ ₊ ˚﹒ 《

A/N: sooo... i went a little insane planning this story out. aka, a lot of research on the aftermath of wwii on korea/south korea, and when western opera was introduced. placing it in paris didn't quite make sense, and i'm going to be taking a lot of creative liberties when it comes to the opera(s?) performed and the history of this particular theater, even though most of it will be background details that aren't even particularly necessary. i wanted to put out a prologue to introduce the story a bit... still deciding some things (like, will i have in-ho be wearing the mask to hide a disfigurement, or will it be more like sg s2, where he's secluded himself due to the death of the only person he cared about, and introduces himself as young-il at some point? decisions, decisions). hope you guys are down to join me on this journey lol, i promise i'll still be posting other stories that are much simpler in concept. also yes, the song they're singing is a slightly altered frank sinatra song... it felt very thematically fitting.

taglist: @pursued-by-the-squid, @bloooooopblopblop, @in-hos-wife

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

I came back from the movie theaters (Fnaf Movie) My lord I FREAKING LOVED IT THE WHOLE THING IDC AHHH Ahem-

I saw that requests are open, SO a Platonic Headcanon Request if you don't mind, Fnaf (Movie) Animatronics with Gender-Neutral (17-soon to be 18) Reader as the new security guard? or maybe tags with Mike and possibly Abby? (Reader ain't tall just-idk 5'2 maybe I am projecting-)

(I know this request doesn't make sense because of the tiredness due to staying up late because of excitement. Feel free to delete this ask if its too complicated)

bonus: If you want to, You can also Include Chica's Cupcake

Have a nice day/night, From 📞 ☕ (PhoneCoffee) Anon

Oh I can definitely work with this ^^

......

When you started working at Freddy's overnight, you hoped this would be your last summer job ever before you turned 18.

"Steve" said it was all pretty straightforward: watch the cameras and make sure nobody broke in.

Easy as pizza pie, right?

Well, when you realized one of the animatronics very subtly moved from their usual spot, you wanted to check them out for yourself.

Plus, sitting in the office for six hours every night would def get boring as hell.

So you head to the main stage area, finding the whole gang mysteriously gone--Foxy included.

Then you get surprised by them emerging from different places in the pizzeria, eyes glowing a sinister yellow as they surround you, wary of your intentions.

"O-Oh hey..um..Fazgang?" You try your best not to look so terrified.

Surely someone was controlling them, right? They couldn't possibly hurt you.

Yet they stop and collectively realize "wait, isn't this a teenager? And why are they working this job??"

But since you're not wrecking anything in the pizzeria (or screaming bloody murder unlike the last guard), they spare you and are just very chill overall.

You now start to believe all the rumors of them being haunted by little children.....although not even that scares you.

On the second night, you learn that they can understand simple drawings--and that's how you pretty much communicate with them and build up trust.

While Bonnie is regarded as the "most aggressive", he was a real sweetheart who let you shine his guitar and hugged you tightly to express his thanks.

Alas you haven't found a way to stop it from constantly short-circuiting when he strums it...but you vow to figure something out.

Chica was equally as sweet, although for some reason Carl the Cupcake made you feel nervous.

The way he can be on the plate one moment and then disappear the next makes you worried that he'll sneak up on you and bite your ankles off.

But as long as Chica's around, that won't ever happen.

Although Foxy looks quite dangerous, you try your best to patch up the hole in his chest using some spare parts from backstage while being oblivious to the deadly Freddy mask saw trap in the corner, something he's grateful for.

He even sang you a little sea shanty as thanks!

Freddy was the first to be suspicious of you, but after seeing a drawing you made of him, he grows to like your presence, too. Especially after how nice you've been to his bandmates.

So you definitely survived more than five nights at this place--longer than anyone so far.

When Mike gets hired and comes in for his first shift with you, he's surprised that a teen is training him.

He suspects this was some lousy summer job you were forced to get and thinks you're gonna act miserable the entire time you work together and not actually teach him shit.

But as it turns out, you love your job!

You show him the Fazgang during their "showtime" performance and assure him that while they may look creepy, they're not bad at all.

And while you're not getting paid extra to do simple maintenance on them, you still enjoy trying to keep them in tip-top shape (especially Foxy, who needs repairs the most).

Mike seriously thinks you shouldn't be doing that as it's not in the job description AND it could be dangerous.

Even if you have expertise in robotics, he still thinks it's not worth losing a limb or finger to those complex contraptions.

Like he almost did after getting near a springlock suit.

But you just teasingly remind him who the trainer is..and he goes quiet.

Foxy overhears this, and you see him snickering from behind the Pirate's Cove curtain, amused by you basically schooling this 25-27 year old man.

Unfortunately he startled poor Mike, who looks over quickly.....only to find the fox standing in his usual position, acting completely normal.

"Was he just laughing at us...?"

"Nope." You play dumb, shrugging. "Must be his voice box malfunctioning....c'mon. Let's see if we can fix that."

Least to say, you're not gonna let him sleep on the job anytime soon.

[moonlight-records]

Opposites attract | MV1

pairing: max verstappen x technical theater!y/n (they/them)

summary: you visit max after a long tech weekend, which is in time for the miami gp

warnings: fluff, google translated dutch (so sorry), me geeking out about my profession, maybe accidental OOC??, suggestive

a/n: reader is AFAB gender neutral! request open! sorry in advance cause there's no proofreading, im dying like a man. also first time writing don’t kill me ❤️

wc: 1.3K

Tech was the best and worst time of the year. The best time since the actors, director, crew, and creative all come together to finally put the show together. The best time because the show is officially handed over to the stage manager. It was also the worst time because of such long hours, lots of hold, and the stage manager’s sanity is holding on by a thread.

The first day wasn’t so bad. You arrived at the theater at 8am. You found your table and laid everything out. Your ASM and PA, your life line and team members, made sure everything else was set up. The other technicians arrived at 9am as they stated on the schedule and finally actors arrived at 10am. You had everyone in a circle introducing themselves to the new group: name, pronouns, role, fun fact. Then the director stated you guys would be going from top of the show and this was your time and your rehearsal. It was long but quick.

The second and third day were killer though. It was painfully slow as techs were. You spend most of your day here. Stage managers were the first ones in and last ones out and this tech was a 10 out of 12 (breaks for lunch, obviously, but you spend literally 12 hours in a dark theater just stopping and going while they add lights, sound, props, costumes, etc.) What’s worse is because you’re running the show you have to stay on top of everything, unless an emergency of course.

That includes not being able to really talk to your boyfriend.

You and Max were very keen on communicating and checking in since both your jobs were so demanding. Sometimes you guys could talk for hours while others it was a simple ‘hi dear, hope you have a good day’ ‘hi schatje, hope you’re sleeping well’ but when you were in tech it was a miracle if you sent a good morning text to inform him you were alive.

It’s around one am when you arrive back to the housing provided by the theater. By the time you get ready for bed it’s one thirty. You’re exhausted and your body is so desperately craving the sleep it’s been lacking but you will yourself to check your phone.

10 am:

Good morning, schatje ❤️. I hope you have a good day at tech today.

12pm:

Make sure you eat something today, please. I know how busy things can get sometimes. I’ll send you money to eat. I cannot believe the theater isn’t providing food for you or the crew. I can call them and give them a piece of my mind.

3pm:

Why did tech have to land on this weekend? It’s different with you not here. Are you watching at least?

…you know I can pay for you. You don’t have to work if you don’t want.

5pm:

Practice was okay. The random rain shower made things interesting for sure. Not my best time but I managed.

I miss you.

10pm:

I love you Schatje. I’m going to head to bed. Wish you were here with me. ❤️

Your heart pulls reading the messages. You quickly type out a few replies to Max:

Hi darling, I’m okay Yes, I made sure I ate today. No you don’t have to call the theater. It’s fine.

That’s called a sugar baby, darling. Not that I wouldn’t mind… I miss you too. I wish tech was over already so we could talk more :(

Well that’s Florida for you. But I’m sorry. I bet you still did amazing. I love you too. I’ll talk to you soon love, sleep well ❤️

You put your phone down after and let yourself drift off to sleep.

—————————————

“Alright Jonathan, I’ll talk to you later…bye now.”

Pocketing your phone when the conversation ends, you shuffle around your room as you get dressed. You’re thankful practice and qualifiers are late in the day giving you the extra sleep you need. Checking yourself out in the mirror, you do a spin. Sneakers, skirt, and one of the many fan designed Red Bull shirts you bought. This one was based off of Taylor’s Swift ‘Eras Tour’ but instead had pictures of your boyfriend and said ‘Verstappen’ instead. Grabbing your sunglasses, bag, and paddock pass you triple checked everything before heading off on your adventure.

Arriving to the paddock you easily scan in and navigate your way through. You keep your head down eyes glued to your phone and nobody really bats an eye to you. Thank god. You didn’t want the surprise to be ruined. Your eyes scan before you find the Red Bull garage. You slow your steps as you scan the garage not spying your boyfriend. A frown pulls to your lips as you step in, sunglasses being pushed to rest on the top of your head as you find Christian.

“Christian,” you call out with a smile as the principal turns. You make your way over and give him a quick hug.

“Oh Y/N,” Christian says and you see relief wash over him, “thank god you’re here. Max has been a fucking terror so far.” The remark makes you laugh, “I’m serious! He’s been extra grumpy since we arrived. I had to threaten to ban you from the garage to get him to tone it down. Handle him. Please.”

“I will when I find out exactly where he is.”

“Driver’s room.”

“Thank you. Promise he’ll be ready for tomorrow.”

“He better!” You hear Christian call out as you leave the garage. It does not take you long to find Max’s room and you know on the door.

You hear some shuffling and swearing in Dutch before the door swings open. You’re met with a “what?�� and a scowl which causes you to smile brightly. “Fancy seeing you here,” you tease and watch Max’s scowl fall as it takes him a moment to process before you’re yanked forward.

You crash into his chest and laughs. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you bury your face in the crook of his neck as he hugs you tightly. He pulls away as he cups your face.

“I—schatje! What are you here? I thought you were working all weekend?”

“Between rehearsal and tech, we reached 42 hours. Jonathan said it wasn’t worth calling equity up to try and get overtime. So, he gave us the weekend off,” you beam and burst into laughter as he smothers your face in kisses, smiling widely.

“I’ve heard you’ve been very grumpy these past few days,” you remark through giggles.

“I have,” he replies bluntly, “you’ve been so busy and this Grand Prix has been testing my patience,” it’s his turn to bury his face in the crook of your neck. Your eyes flutter close and you let a breathy sigh escape feeling his lips leave feathery kisses along your neck.

“Max..”

“Missed you,” Max mumbled through kisses as he works his way up your neck to your jaw, “missed my good luck charm on my arm,” he kisses along your jaw, “missed having you wait for me in my driver’s room,” he makes his way up to your bottom lip and nips, “we have so much catching up to do..”

Turning your head away, giggling, “you have practice and qualifiers to get through first, mister,” You say earning a very small pout from the Dutchman, “how about, you place top five for qualifiers and I’ll spend the night at your hotel.” You let a finger gently trail long his jaw, down his neck, and to his chest before he drops.

Max follows your finger eyes darkening as he sticks his tongue out slightly to lick his bottom lip. Looking back up at you, “and if I get pole?”

Smiling innocently, you bat your lashes, “why do you think I wore a skirt?” A voice rings out for Max. Max groans as he squeezes you. He leans down to kiss your cheek before murmuring in your ear, “I expect you back here after qualifiers, bent over, skirt up for me.”

A shiver runs down your spine. He smirks and you want to wipe that smirk off his face. The voice is closer and you quick Max a quick peck with a grin, “good luck, sweetheart.” You purr softly and turn out of his grasp and disappear to the motorhome to enjoy the last few hours of your ability to walk.

[drdemonprince]

something im kind of connecting the dots to re: your posts about shaming people who don’t wear masks…in ‘20 and ‘21 I spent a lot of time posting shaming instagram stories telling people they needed to mask, and i yelled at family until i was blue in the face bc they weren’t masking, having big weddings, etc. and it really created a rift (obviously) in my relationships. I’ve also spent a lot of time and energy in the past 4 or so years telling people that it’s not possible to be an ally to trans people if they still engage in any media created by jk rowling. Especially given that her anti trans manifesto has been cited in anti trans legislation in the uk, she says that she assumes that anyone who continues to engage with Harry Potter media approves of her transphobia, etc the list goes on. And yet i still see my friends going to the wizarding world of Harry Potter, marathoning the movies with their friends, going to see the new movies in theaters, and so on. Obviously my aggressive shaming posts and conversations (which have alienated a lot of people) aren’t doing jack shit. Your mask shame posts made me realize that it probably wasn’t right of me to do that. But I don’t see how I can stand up for what I believe in and show people that it’s not okay to keep doing this shit AND play nice and not create trouble. Do you have any thoughts?

Thanks for this great question and for sharing your experiences.

I think when we shame, part of it is a grappling with our own powerlessness. It feels terrible to confront that no matter how much we care, and no matter how much we plead, we cannot make another person take action. When people we love or rely on won't hear our pleas and won't take action, it wounds us so deeply, and it makes sense we react in anger or seek to shame them hoping it will make them care. But it isn't effective.

I think one of the first steps is accepting our powerlessness as individuals. We have to stop expecting ourselves to somehow persuade people to change their behavior and views, when all the research indicates that such change is rare, slow, and very hard, and cannot be accomplished on a person who does not already want to be influenced. We have to sit in the humility of not being able to make others care, and take time to grieve how badly it hurts. Our understandable and huge hurt feelings need to be processed. many of us have a powerful need to express our rage and have it witnessed by others who understand.

From there, we have to think very strategically about what kind of collective work we can do that will shift social norms, facilitate the behavior we want to see, and fight for systemic changes that will actually address the root issues.

This may be things like passing out masks at protests. Joining a local mutual aid fund to contribute to the expenses of people who are quarantining. Protesting an event space to make them institute a masking policy. Unionizing with our coworkers to demand paid sick leave. Shoplifting tests and redistributing them to people in need. Terrorizing the business leaders who dragged us all back into the office. Sharing the wastewater data. Asking loved ones about their COVID mitigation decisions in a sincere way. Organizing outdoor events for our communities. Paying for a buddy's vaccine.

There are countless ways for us to be plugged into an active community that is larger than us. The work is humble, and ongoing, and what you do personally will never be enough on its own, and you must accept that in order to believe that it does not have to be. We are in this together.

In short, I think the tough emotional realities of feeling disrespected and not cared for much be addressed by finding community with people who do care and will give us room to voice our outrage. And then we have to work together to create the circumstances that allow real systemic change to germinate.

Right now, people conflate that emotional need to express rage with the political need to take action. And what feels cathartic to do or say is not necessarily what's persuasive. There has to be room for both.

[lektoheart]

Character Creation

I've had a few suggestions for characters to add to my game, so I thought I'd make a post explaining my character creation process.

All the characters in Rescue Theater are designed using VRoid Studio, a character creation program primarily used by vtubers. I chose VRoid to design the character models for a few reasons:

I'm not a 3D modeler. I know the basics, and I'm able to make simple props and environmental pieces, but anything beyond that would take me way too long and would look ugly.

VRoid is free and has some powerful tools within it. Especially when it comes to hair and outfits. It also has a large community with many assets online, although most of those cost money.

VRoid models work well with Unity. Once imported, they come with "free" hair, jiggle, and clothes physics.

The main inspiration for Rescue Theater was the idea that I could reuse animations among many different characters. In order for this to work, the characters must have the same general proportions, otherwise the animations won't match up. A character creator allows me to ensure all the characters have roughly the same base shape.

This final point brings me to the limitations of using VRoid for my character models.

All the characters must have the same height, same arm lengths, same torso length, etc. Otherwise the hand positions of the animations won't match up. This means that I can't change the body types too much.

Unfortunately, VRoid doesn't have many options for varied body types anyway.

Today, I tried creating my first male model. As I feared, the animations didn't line up when I imported the model back into Unity. I believe this was due to the increased shoulder length and torso length. To fix this, I ended up going back to the base female character and editing it to look more masculine. This worked, although the male model does look somewhat feminine. Especially when it comes to the arch of their back and their slimmer shoulders.

So, what does this mean? If you want to suggest a character for me to add to Rescue Theater, keep in mind that I can't just download a model online. I will need to recreate the character myself. I'm also not that experienced with VRoid yet, especially when it comes to clothes and hair, so the results may vary. Also, any male characters I make will look somewhat feminine.

I have some ideas to work around these limitations in the future, but I have more pressing features that need to be implemented first.

Thanks for reading!

[foster-the-world]

Great Gatsby

My Mom, Aunt and I saw the Great Gatsby last night. Great show. Amazing costumes and scenes as you would expect. We got $24 tickets we get through Bee's ice skating program. My husband and I will go see Water for Elephants next month. The Classical theater of Harlem is also having free nightly outdoor performance of a midsummers night dream - which looks like a fun adaption. Thinking of taking the girls next week. I think it has lots of glitzy costumes and dancing. It doesn't start until 8:30 but I think we can go for the first half. As a kid my mom had weekly tickets to the Muny - a huge outdoor theater. All of the kids went to the kids show once a summer. Fond memories.

The girls start science camp next week. They love Camp Half blood/sword camp so much. So much imagination. They are bummed its over but they did science camp and liked it last summer.

We are scheduled to go to Banff and Jasper National Parks the end of August. We always do our summer vacation then because camps end but school doesn't start. Turns out two other people at work also want that week off. They may tell me no. Which is fine. So far I've only booked cancelable lodging. We will figure out childcare and go the week before. We may end up switching destinations because we will no longer have the extra labor day Monday off. Its a pretty pricey flight so I don't want to go if we don't have enough time. Maybe Columbia? We will make it to Banff someday.

Talked with baby boy's new school OT and PT. They said he's doing great. He's so used to doing therapies that he has no problems going with new people. PT mentioned the inability to slow down is his problem. Not news to us. Let's hope they can help.

Was reading the NYT's article about the study that says children's moving anytime between the age of 10 and 16 has really detrimental long term effects. For obvious reasons loosing your close knit community during that age is difficult. Here in NYC because of school choice kids can go across town for Junior high and then to a totally different location with no one they know for High School. In addition to the (unhealthy, I think) stress of applications, etc I do wonder if it would have the same negative outcomes. Maybe that's just common practice everywhere now? Where I grew up Jr High was everyone you went to Elementary school with and then three other elementary schools. High school was everyone from your Jr High. I def went from Kindergarten through Graduation with many of the same people.

In my circles everyone believes social media is the cause of teenagers mental health problems - which I believe. But I also think kids having so much less freedom contributes. Its tricky in NYC - as I can't send my kids out to their neighbors backyard - but I try to give the girls freedom as much as possible. Baby boys only four but unless his personality changes I think it will be even more difficult to give him freedom.

Here's to hoping Biden drops out in the next few days. Let's all buy the man a drink, give him a big thank you and let him live out his days in peace. Job well done. Lots of room for improvement but overall A+ in my book.

[king-candybug-backup]

So like crazy story of how I discovered your blog-

Years ago, WIR was my childhood movie, I used to rewatch it over n over again like twice a day or more (I was obsessed). Then like the CD with the movie broke 😭 so I never got to watch it again till WIR 2 (which I did watch in theaters, disappointed me so much I watched it only once and cannot remember what happened in there AT ALL)

Back to the present (4days ago) I stumbled upon a 2hours Turbo/king candy analysis vid by Randomalistic on yt while doing HW. That made me remember the whole movie and like yesterday I found one of ur posts on my fyp, like OUTTA NOWHERE.

I had no idea that King Candy himself had a WHOLE FANDOM!??? I was curious so I clicked into your fanfic, gave it a read and literally stayed up till 3am reading it till chapter 9 💀. And OH MY GOD IT IS THE BEST THING EVER??? THE WRITING, CHARACTERS, EVERYTHING ABOUT IT IS PEAK??? HOLY-

It kinda jump started my core memory of how much I used to love this damn movie- I knew nothing abt the fandom btw, but only when I found ur blog that I started frantically searching thru the whole Turbo tag. And I just wanted to thank you for introducing me to this fandom/community. Your work literally converted me into a Turbo/Candy King enjoyer, excellent work. I’ll be awaiting the the next chapter. (WILL DRAW IF I CAN SURVIVE THIS SEMESTER 🙏)

And so sorry if this came outta nowhere, I need you to know how Kill Switch changed my life AGAHAGAH I wrote this from my silly brain and heart 😭💕💕💕

SOBBING MY EYES OUT OMFG 😭😭😭 THANK YOUUUU AAAHHHH!!!! 💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖

YEEESSSS THE BIRD HAS CLAIMED ANOTHER VICTIM LMAOOOO 😂 To be completely honest, the whole fic would not exist if that darn video essay hadn't driven me headfirst into a Turbo hyperfixation lmfao THANKS FOR THE FOOD RANDOMALISTIC /pos (Like seriously though IT'S SUCH A GOOD CHARACTER ANALYSIS, it also basically revived a big chunk of the WIR fandom, so you came at a good time! 😂)

THANK YOU SO MUCH AGAIN FOR ALL THE KIND WORDS AHSFGDVJB I'M DYING OVER HERE, THIS IS SO SWEET, I JUST--

I HOPE YOU HAVE A GOOD TIME IN THE FANDOM, ALSO I'M WISHING YOU ALL THE LUCK WITH YOUR SCHOOLWORK, YOU GOT THIS, I BELIEVE IN YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!

[emeraldskulblaka]

Emerald's Theatre Favourites - 2024

I got to see many wonderful stage productions this year (not least because I was a theatre festival jury member), but I've managed to narrow it down to five musicals and plays each, with a couple of honourable mentions.

Musicals

1. Standing at the Sky's Edge, West End

I went in knowing nothing about it and was blown away. The three stories were interwoven so beautifully and elegantly. The music is captivating, and don't get me started on Poppy and Nikki! My loves. This show took a while to really sink in, but I'm so very glad that I went to see it even though it meant skipping Les Mis and going without my friends.

2. Cabaret, Stadttheater Ingolstadt

To be honest, I never understood the appeal of Cabaret until I saw this production. Chilling, thrilling, haunting. Everything just fit. The Emcee was split in two, and I was sceptical at first, but it worked exceedingly well. Olivia Wendt as Sally deserves a special mention; her vocals were out of this world, and she very deservedly got an audience award for this role.

3. Les Misérables, Gärtnerplatztheater Munich

Les Mis, so close to home? A dream come true! But I hadn't expected the demand for tickets to be as high as it was, and if not for @fitzrove, I wouldn't have been able to see it at all! Thank you <3 a non-replica production with a phenomenal cast and a score that was played without rushing through it needlessly. Excellent use of setpieces.

4. Mamma Mia!, International Tour (Munich)

A very spontaneous decision, this one. Didn't even realise it would be in English at first, but I was absolutely thrilled when I found out (other audience members weren't. Obviously it wasn't communicated properly). The playback was a bit of a letdown, but it was so enjoyable otherwise that it still made the list. Shout-out to Jennifer Adab's lower register. This was my first time seeing principals for all three dads, which was great bc one wasn't noticeably younger than the others.

5. Hadestown, West End

It's no secret that I'm more of a casual Hafestown enjoyer, but I got to see the show with @caenith @maellor @curiouselleth @quixoticanarchy and Exlibris, which made it the most memorable experience of this trip <3 (despite me forgetting my phone and panicking about it, and Orpheus' actor being audibly sick, poor guy) impeccable vibes, a great show.

Plays

1. This Restless House, Stadttheater Ingolstadt

An adaptation of Aeschylus' Oresteia, with the first two parts being played traditionally and the third one modernised. Stand-out performances by the entire cast despite injuries (one even live on stage) and illness. The choir at the beginning was particularly impressive. A long evening, but one well spent.

2. Twelfth Night, Landestheater Coburg

To be honest, I don't have that much to say about this one. Veebs. Great fun. I'm glad I finally got to see this Tumblr favourite.

3. Bromance, Theater Schloss Maßbach

It's absolutely amazing what three actors, three white sheets, two overhead projectors and one sound engineer can do. I desperately wish the small theatre hadn't been half empty. They're gay, your honour.

4. Draußen vor der Tür, Theater Regensburg

This was depressing af, obviously. But the set design was very intelligent and the production quality overall on a level many regional theatres can only dream of. Well done, Regensburg, you made me sincerely enjoy Wolfgang Borchert.

5. Der Hobbit, Figurentheater Wilde & Vogel (Straubing)

This would have been higher up if I hadn't already seen it in December 2023, but I can't not mention it here. It's played with so much love for the story, so much heart. An adaptation both children and adults will enjoy. And not just because of the glittery Rivendell elves, I promise!

Favourite Theatrical Moments

Disney in Concert is always a treat! I got to see this year's tour "Believe in Magic" in Munich, and missed the encore because of #trainpanic. RIP.

Ilya Zhigarev as Orpheus in a concert version of the Orpheus rock opera. A revelation. A dreamcast come true.

The recording of Much Ado About Nothing, Globe Theatre, 2011. I laughed, I cried, I had the best time imaginable. 11/10 would recommend.

What were your favourites this year? ✨️

[asordinaryppl]

A3! Main Story: Part 4 - Act 16: Crossing Paths - Episode 24: Status Report

Tsumugi: Is this alright…? Ummm, can you see us?

Azuma: “It’s working.”

Hisoka: “… We can see you.”

Homare: I believe this kind of thing is called a remote drinking party. Quite novel, is it not?

Guy: Being able to gather like this is nice.

Tsumugi: Tasuku, thanks. This is great.

Tasuku: I was pretty shocked to hear you suggest a remote drinking party. You hardly ever even video call.

Tsumugi: I wanted to talk to all of you guys after seeing KICS yesterday.

Tsumugi: I got all nostalgic when I remembered that we also had things we couldn’t say to each other during our debut, and we weren’t quite on the same wavelength.

Azuma: “Hearing you say this makes gathering like this worth it.”

Guy: I was shocked to find out they were having a dispute, given how relaxed the atmosphere was during their practice.

Tsumugi: It was something they’d have to talk about sooner or later. I’m sure they’re fine now.

Tsumugi: It’s been a while since the six of us gathered like this, so how about we run through what we’ve been up to?

Tasuku: We’ve been keeping in touch through LIME, but how’s your trip going?

Azuma: “It’s been fun. Just as originally planned, we’ve met a lot of people, and it’s become good motivation.”

Azuma: “I never expected that I’d be able to learn so many things about my family in this way after all this time. It’s been rather eye-opening, I’m quite content.”

Homare: Yes, I’ve also gained a better understanding of my father through this picture book, so I completely understand where you’re coming from.

Homare: I believe I’m capable of understanding him because of the person I have become.

Azuma: “Yeah. I think this is all thanks to me joining this troupe and spending time with you all.”

Hisoka: “… Thanks to Azuma, I got to see lots of new sights. It’s fun.”

Azuma: “It seems Hisoka hasn’t had much regular sightseeing experience, so we’ve been looking around and eating a variety of foods.”

Azuma: “I think seeing new sights is a good experience for him.”

Tsumugi: I agree. It’ll be good for our plays too.

Guy: Your dramatic reading seems to be going well too, Arisugawa.

Homare: Yes. Now that I am all finished with the text, I’m thinking of asking for Kazunari-kun’s help with the illustrations.

Homare: How are your filmings going, Tsumugi-kun, Tasuku-kun?

Tsumugi: Everything’s progressing smoothly. There are a lot of differences between the production of a film and the production of a theater play, so I’m learning a lot.

Tsumugi: The child actor I’m co-starring with is technically my senior, and he’s so cute. We’re getting along well.

Tasuku: I’ve got lots of scenes with Haruto this time, but unlike back in GOD-za, we’re able to proceed while communicating properly, so that’s interesting.

Tsumugi: Maybe because the way GOD-za does things is also different now

Hisoka: “... What about you, Guy? Is the bar busy?”

Guy: I’m managing it by myself just fine for now.

Guy: I have been actively practicing on my own and going out to do Street ACTs to prepare for the performance so that I will be ready for when you all return.

Guy: The other troupes’ members have been helping me, so it’s been quite a reassuring experience.

Tasuku: That’s something to be grateful for.

Guy: As for Kureha, I have decided to maintain the status quo.

Guy: Keeping my distance from him will be difficult, but I don’t want him to find out we’re brothers out of the blue.

Guy: That being said, with the way things have turned out, I can’t keep hiding it forever. I plan to consult our father about this.

Tsumugi: I hope you find a good way to tell Kureha-kun.

Homare: If there is any way we can be of help, do let us know.

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[chvnnie]

Starlight

han jisung x reader

word count: 5.3k

genre: smut - MINORS DNI

warnings: dom!jisung, sub!reader, public sex, spit (just once), choking, oral (m receiving), nipple play (mutual), unprotected sex (let's not), dirty talk, jisung can be a lil rough? if i missed anything, PLEASE LET ME KNOW.

summary: Jisung will not settle for anything less than perfection.

a/n: thank you to nacific (see reblog for inspo) and phantom of the opera for fueling this. also my first full length fic in months? woooooooooo! she finally found her groove again!

this is a work of fiction. this fic in no way represents han jisung as a person or stray kids as a whole. you are responsible for the media you consume. please read responsibly.

taglist: @lix-ables, @rachalixie, @gibbysupremeacyisreal, @katieraven, @miamormi, @woahfruity, @isilentprincess, @hugs4chan, @stranger-thighs, @beautifulcolorgarden, @scottmcallisdaddy, @whatudowhennooneseesyou, @humayraaaaa, @americanokisses - comment/send ask to be added

It’s hard to believe that this is the best theater in the city. The seats are uncomfortable, creaking with every shift of weight as if they’re on their last limbs. A cool draft hits the back of the playwright’s neck, which he’s given up on avoiding long ago. Dodging it isn’t worth the terrible squeaking noise.

Though it may be preferable to the frankly horrid vocals of the woman center stage.

Where to even begin? On top of her pitchy, broken song, the monologue she’s chosen has gone on far too long. Jisung is surprised he hasn’t fallen asleep yet, head cradled in his left hand as he stares blankly off into space. From the moment she stepped out, he knew she wasn’t fit for the role before even opening her mouth. 

“Give her a chance.” The director told him. “Her parents donate to the theater.”

God, he couldn’t give less of a shit.

The woman takes a breath, readying herself to continue, and his limit is reached.

“Thank you!” Jisung projects his voice, cutting her off before she even gets the chance. “Thank you. We’ll be in touch.”

Sighing deeply, the director shoots the playwright a sharp look. “She wasn’t finished-”

“It’s an insult to my work to let her continue.” Jisung snaps back. Hours. Hours he has sat in this seat, watching women come and go, none of them even coming close to the image he has in his head. Sure, there have been a handful of phenomenal actresses and vocalists in the group, but not the one. Not his.

It took years for Jisung to write the perfect play. Days spent in tears as he scribbled words and shredded papers, not stopping until everything is exactly how he wanted it to be. There is no compromise; not then, not now. Everything will be as it should be.

Even if it means sitting in this godforsaken chair for several more hours.

“How many more are there?” 

The director flips through the resumes, counting under his breath. “Twelve.”

Twelve. Twelve more chances to find his star. “Tell me about the next one.”

She was lovely. Years of experience, pages of recommendations from mentors and directors. A strong, steady voice with an impressive range. When she sang, the theater shook with ghosts of applause she’s sure to hear someday. Carrying herself with grace and elegance, there’s no question that she was born for the stage.

Though it will not be on Jisung’s.

The next few women that follow are nothing too spectacular. Good, but that’s as far as it goes. Wonderful extras, understudies, or even minor roles. There are places for them in the show, but not the place they want to be.

“The next one,” the annoyance is thick in the director’s voice, at his wits end with the picky playwright, “has only ever held minor roles in her community theater. Has some formal training, but really doesn’t have much of a background. Frankly, I’m not sure how she even made the cut-”

“Everyone deserves a chance.” Jisung says, scanning the short resume. “Bring her out.”

From the second you stepped foot on the stage, the playwright was mesmerized. Though there was nothing “spectacular” per se about you, there was something. It gripped onto him, tugged him with a fervor he’s never quite felt before. Without even speaking, you’ve caught all of his attention and claimed it as your own.

Who are you? Why is Jisung just now meeting you?

Though you hold yourself with confidence, when you speak you stumble over words. As hard as you try, it’s impossible to hide the nerves that stage brings. It’s endearing, genuine. More personality than anyone who stood before you.

Your monologue is rushed. There are places that could use improvement; too quiet at some parts, the pause in the middle was too long. But those are minor issues, nothing that can’t be tweaked. What really hooks Jisung is your voice.

When you sing, he feels like he’s floating on the cloud. All the stars in the sky within arms length, waiting for him to reach out and steal them away. There’s no high quite like your voice, the most beautiful thing he’s ever heard. 

The time spent together is too short. Before Jisung has had his fill, you’re bowing. Thanking them for their time. Disappearing before he can call out for you.

“Well.” The director sighs before chuckling. “I think we can agree—“

“She’s it.”

He stares at Jisung, jaw dropped in shock. “You have to be joking.”

“Nope.” He begins to pack his bag, tucking his notepad and stacks of resumes away. His work is done for the day. “She is who I want as the lead.”

“Jisung.” The director stands with the playwright, following him down the aisle. “There were many more qualified than her—“

“Is this your show? I don’t recall you writing it with me.” He keeps walking towards the exit, not slowing down. There’s nothing that will change his mind. “I’ve seen enough today. You can humor the rest, but I have found my star.”

///

You didn’t get a call back.

All day, you’ve sat by the phone. Staring, willing it to ring. They told you they would be in touch by the end of the day if they wanted to see you again. The sun has set long ago, and there hasn’t been a peep from your phone.

Shame. Embarrassment. Rejection. All weigh heavy on your chest, threatening to bury you in the cold dirt under your apartment complex. How silly it was of you to hope, to audition for a show by the Han Jisung. You were mocked; by so called friends, in the waiting room by other hopefuls. A few of them had to have received a call. They were beautiful, talented. 

In comparison, you were nothing. So insignificant that they probably tossed your resume the second you stepped foot on the stage.

Sitting on the window sill, you bring your knees to your chest and rest your head upon it. Looking out the glass, watching as the white stars twinkle in the sky. They’re bright tonight, lighting up the city streets more than any streetlight could. What is it like to be one of them? To command the attention of all those around you, to shine brighter than any light ever could?

Suppose you'll never know, will you?

You’ve resisted the urge to cry all day. Holding it in, letting the bottle fill. There was no reason in throwing a fit until you know. But, now that you do, the dam breaks. Salty, warm tears rolling down your cheeks. Sparkling in the starlight.

What’s it like to be a star?

As your back begins to hurt, the familiar ring of your phone fills the teeny living room. Rolling your head over, you stare at the lit up screen. Projecting a number you don’t recognize. 

Oh, a rejection call. Your favorite kind.

Wiping your tears on your sweater, you bring the phone to your ear. “Hello?”

Your ears begin ringing, a tingling feeling taking over your body as the director speaks. Telling you that the impossible is possible, even if he sounds disappointed to say so. The tears dry quickly, nails digging into your skin as you pinch yourself over, and over, and over. This must be a dream. 

It’s not a call back. It’s not a rejection. It’s the role, if you choose to take it. 

“The table reading is tomorrow at noon.” The director tells you, the realness starting to sink in. “Can you make it—“

“Yes!” You exclaim, quickly feeling embarrassed at your eagerness. “Y-yes. Yes, I can make it.”

There’s an exasperated sigh on the other end, but you don’t even care enough to dwell on it. This is all you’ve dreamed of, all you’ve wanted. Now it’s in your hands, glowing brighter than the lights that dance in the sky.

You’re too excited to sleep, waking up every hour to check the time. By 7:00 in the morning, you’re too jittery to stay in bed. There’s far too much to do; you have to make sure you eat a full meal, that you get a little exercise in. That you change your outfit five times because god, why does nothing in your closet fit the occasion? Do you have time to stop by a shop, or should you just make do with what you have—

There’s too much happening in your head, making it nearly impossible to calm down. Maybe that’s why you left your apartment an hour early when the walk is only twenty minutes. The sooner you get to the studio, the better.

Waiting is simply not an option anymore.

Unsurprisingly, the room is empty. Four tables clicked together to make a square, each seat complimented with a name tag and a binder. You find your place near the “head” of the table, between what you assume to be the male lead, and the playwright himself.

This is incredible. This shouldn’t be your life; no professional experience or schooling, barely held a lead role in a community show. You simply took a risk, expecting to be disappointed. 

Never did you think this would be the outcome. Sure, you dreamed of it, but not a bit of you believed it to be possible. 

You trace the outline of the binder, resisting the temptation to open it. To read the story Jisung has spun; he has such a beautiful way with words. In your opinion, though it doesn’t hold much weight, he’s the best playwright of the century. He’s only written a few shows, each more breathtaking than the last. They have this ability to touch a part of the soul that nobody knew existed, the feeling it brings indescribable. 

And you get to be a part of this masterpiece. Oh fuck, you can’t stop smiling. You want to scream, to jump up and down. To revel in the sheer joy this production has already brought you.

Instead, you keep to your seat. Buzzing as you stare at the black binder before you. 

Slowly, the room begins to fill. People walk the table in search for their names, chatter spinning in the echoey room. Most of them seem to know each other, greetings of hugs and congratulations exchanged. It’s a nice feeling — this is home for so many people.

Yet, it makes you feel a bit lonely. Everyone has to start somewhere; there’s no way you could have bonds like those of your co stars yet. Someday, you’ll be one of them. But today, you stay the outsider, even if it crushes you just a little. 

The door opens, and a silence falls over the crowd. Every head turned in the direction of the playwright. Shorter than you would have expected, yet more striking than any picture you’ve seen of him before. His dark hair is tousled, fluffy like he hardly touched it when he rolled out of bed. Dressed in creams and tans, he gives a sophisticated, yet cozy vibe. Softening his intimidation with a lazy smile and golden, circular glasses.

“Don’t mind me.” Voice smooth like honey, he waves off the stares. “Continue on with your conversations. And congratulations to you all.”

Only when he starts walking to his seats does the chatter begin again. Quieter than before, as if they’re all still stunned by his presence. He dodges the little huddles of people until he reaches the head of the table. 

Until he reaches you. 

An iced coffee is placed right next to your water bottle, the playwright slowly unpacking his bag. A yellow legal pad, a copy of the script covered in scribbles and coffee stains. A black pen. Once the items are scattered across his crowded workplace, Jisung takes a seat, thumbing through the notepad for a fresh page.

“First time, right?” He speaks without looking in your direction, making you question if it’s meant for you.

“Me?”

His brows raise, yet he still doesn’t look up. “You’re the only one seated by me, aren’t you?”

“Oh.” Your face flushes, the heat of embarrassment making you shrink into yourself. “Y-yeah. It’s my first.”

“Hm. It’s a good fit for you.” Jisung takes a drink of his coffee before setting the notepad to the side. 

“Thank you, sir.” You say, shaking from all the nerves squeezing you. It’s impossible to sit still — or to shut up. “I was very worried about this audition.”

This time, he looks at you, and honestly, you’d prefer it if he didn’t. It makes the anxiety all the more consuming, knowing you’re being perceived by him. Are you sweating? You think you’re sweating. God, did you put on deodorant this morning—

“Oh, is that so?” He offers you a warm smile, and it puts you at ease just a bit. “You had no reason to be, you were perfect.”

“I-I fucked up my monologue—“

“That doesn’t matter.” A hand rests on your thigh, the weight of it enough to make you stop shaking. To let your shoulders roll a bit, no longer so tense. “You are the star. I knew it from the second I saw you.”

Maybe you’re imagining it, lost in your delusion that the line of reality is muddied. But there’s something sparking where his body meets yours; a bolt of lightning coursing through your veins. His eyes hold so much warmth, like rivers of melted chocolate. Soft against your skin, leaving you with a taste that you’ll never fight a craving for. 

It has to be all in your head. Careful not to lose it.

“Thank you.” Your mouth is suddenly dry, swallowing thickly to shake the heat he’s given you.

With a smile and squeeze of your knee, Jisung turns back to his notepad. Leaving you alone to melt in your seat.

///

You’re no longer rushed. 

The delivery on your lines has been nothing short of flawless. It’s like a switch was flipped; the nervousness is still there, but it’s damn near impossible to detect it. All it took were a few rehearsals for you to find comfort in your lines, in the role, and then poof. Everything Jisung knew you would be, you became.

Steady on your feet when it comes to dance. Vocals perfectly in tune. Lines coming from your mouth as if they were yours, not something you merely read off a paper. 

Stunning. Show stopping. The best star in the entire universe lives on this wooden stage, even the director is now convinced.

“No, no, stop.” The director’s angry voice ends the scene, sighing dramatically. “This is the sixth time we’ve ran this today alone, and you’re telling me you still can’t get it right?”

Well. Almost convinced.

Jisung hates the way the director speaks to you; immediately, you deflate. Shoulder sinking as you disappear into yourself. “I’m trying—“

“Well, try harder.” He snaps. “It’s just a kiss, I’m not asking you to fuck him.”

A round of hateful snickers come from the company, whispers followed closely behind. It’s easy to tell that all of this is getting to you, you’d have to be blind not to see it.

“Something funny?” Jisung’s sharp voice cuts through the noise, silencing the extras in the background. “Or did the company forget you’re all replaceable back there?”

Maybe it’s cruel of him to enjoy the tears in their eyes, but he truly doesn’t have time for their childish games. Even if the director shoots him a hateful look for it.

“Take fifteen.” The other man snaps, dismissing the cast. You stand frozen for a moment before turning in the direction of your dressing room. Running off to cry, if Jisung had to assume. All thanks to this asshole.

Once the room is empty, the director flares at the playwright.

“You need to be nicer to the company-“

“You need to be nice to the lead.” The director stands a few inches taller than him, but Jisung has no problem making him cower. Taking a few steps closer, he narrows his eyes at the man. “How do you expect her to be comfortable with the scene if that’s how you treat her?”

“I expect her to be an adult.” He rolls his eyes. “If she can’t even kiss a man, how does she expect to keep the role—“

“Sorry, I’m just hearing a lot of talk from another expendable person.” The flash of fear in the man’s eyes is just what he wants. Though he seems to talk down to the playwright, to question his every decision, he seems to forget something. 

The director needs Jisung. Jisung doesn’t need him. One name is established, the other is not. Care to venture a guess?

The man sighs, running his fingers through his hair. “Jisung, I want this show to be successful just as much as you do. With her as the lead—“

“She has a name.”

“I don’t think it will be.” There’s an exhaustion on his face that pisses the playwright off, eyes rolling so far back he can see his brain. “That kiss is crucial, and if she can’t get comfortable with it, we’re fucked.”

Though begrudgingly, Jisung had to admit that he has a point. It’s a pivotal moment in the show, and as much as he stands by his decision in casting you, there are some adjustments that have to be made. You’ve already made such big improvements, what’s a few more?

He tells himself it’s for the sake of the show. That he’s not more invested in you than the others, that his interest in you is strictly professional. There’s no other driving force behind asking you to stay later for “review”. 

None at all.

You fidget with the sleeves of your sweater, sitting on the edge of the stage as you watch your castmates pout out of the theater. Each time the door opens, you get a glimpse of the setting sun. Soon it will be too late for you to walk; hopefully the review is quick.

Jisung sits on a stool by the curtain, using a music stand to hold his notepad. The only sound in the entire building is him chewing on the lid of his pen, focused in on whatever he’s scribbling.

“You’re doing good.” He says, voice muffled a bit from the pen.

Turning in his direction, you offer a soft smile. “Thank you, sir. I’ve been practicing a lot at home.”

“It shows.” Jisung caps his pen before standing up, walking towards center stage. “I knew you were capable of handling this role.”

You hate that every praise that falls from his lips gives you the tingles, a fuzzy feeling growing from your lower belly. Having this big of a crush on your superior is dangerous in so many ways, but every time you leave the plant to die, he comes in with a watering can. Filling you to the brim with feelings that shouldn’t be there.

“You know what we need to talk about,” he pauses in the center of the stage “don’t you?”

“The kiss.”

Jisung’s eyes crinkle when he smiles. “I know it can be hard to kiss people we aren’t comfortable with, but this is an important moment in the show.”

You brace yourself for the scolding. At least you trust the playwright to give it to you nicely, rather than belittling you like others.

“How can we make it easier for you?”

Stunned doesn’t begin to cover it. So taken aback you almost slide off the stage, your eyes widen at him. No criticism, no telling you to suck it up and deal with it — only genuine concern for you and your emotions towards this scene. 

“I’m not sure.” You answer truthfully, turning so you’re facing Jisung. “Really, I’ve tried to come up with ways to make it easier, but…nothing works.”

He nods his head, lips pressed together as he hums in thought. “Let’s run it together.”

Out of everything you expected to hear from him, this wasn’t even on the list. Brows furrowed, you tilt your head to the side. “W-what?”

“Practice makes perfect, doesn’t it?” He takes a few easy steps towards you, hand extended. There’s a choice to be made; accept the help, or navigate it yourself. Learn, or continue to be mocked by everyone but the playwright. 

His hand is warmer than you expect it to be.

“Let’s start at the top of the scene.” He says, moving into position at the top of the stage left. You move to your mark, taking a few deep breaths and letting the character take over. 

It’s strange, pretending to be someone else. There’s a thrill in feeling her emotions, in learning how things affect her. The pain caused by the war, the concern for her lover’s safety. The joy she is overwhelmed with when she sees he’s alright, running across the shipyard to greet him with a hug.

Your arms wrap around Jisung’s neck, a teary gasp falling from your lips as you angle yourself towards the audience. His arms coil around your waist, pressing your body firmly against his own. An embrace that was far too long coming.

She tells him how worried she was, how when he never wrote her back—

—he’s quick to reassure her, putting a finger on her lip to silence her. The letter got ruined, muddied and bloodied on the battlefield. Besides, no words could fully encapsulate what he wants to say.

And what is it, she asks, that he so badly wants to say?

Jisung’s hand comes to the nape of your neck, tilting your head back just a bit. Here. This is when she begins to fade, and your nerves take over. Your lips tremble as you attempt to stay in character, resisting the urge to break from his grasp.

“Relax.” He whispers loud enough for only you to hear. “Let me kiss you.”

Before you can blink, his lips are on yours. His lips are soft, molding to yours as if they’re a perfect fit. They move at a pace that freezes time, your body starting to soften in his hold. Hands come to his neck, gently holding either side as he deepens it slightly. Just enough to let you feel more of him. How firm, yet gentle he’s handling you. As if this is all he’s longed for since the moment he met you.

It’s over too soon, soft breaths intertwining in the space between your bodies. You can’t move away from him, hands sliding down to touch the collar of his shirt. Fingers curling around it, ready to pull him back in—

“Good.” Jisung releases his hold on you, taking a step back. “But it could be better. Again.”

Every inch of your body feels like static, mindless as you wander back to your mark. You’ve never felt this way from a simple kiss before; he left you needing more. How you remember your lines is beyond you, only one thing drawing you to stage left. 

The second kiss is sweeter. This time, he smiles against your lips, tongue softly teasing the bottom one. But just as you let him in, he’s breaking it off again, playful smile still on his face.

“Again.”

His tongue finds yours the third time around. It isn’t too intense, or overbearing. Steady, making sure he gets a taste of every inch of you without rush. As if all of his day could be spent like this, all of his life. There would be no better way to spend eternity than tied up with you.

Right as you grip onto his dress shirt, Jisung pulls back. “A-“

“No.” You whimper, eyes starting to water with the idea of going back to your mark. Not caring what this risk means, you press your body back into his, chasing his lips. “P-please.”

Before Jisung can speak, you kiss him. There isn’t a second to breathe, a second to let him gain control — your tongue is dancing with his, desperate compared to the way he kissed you before. If he was patient, you’re wild. Unruly. Fearing the separation of bodies like you’ll die without his contact. 

Fingers tangle in your hair, and suddenly you’re ripped away from him. You paw at his chest, something feral taking over as you fight to get back to him. To his touch.

Jisung clicks his tongue before laughing. “Greedy thing.” His voice is bone chillingly low, the static of your body freezing. “Has all the power gone to your head, my little star? Have you forgotten who was in charge?”

“P-please.” You’re panting, the tears in your eyes beginning to spill. “I need—“

“Need?” He yanks on your hair harder, tilting your head all the way back. The sting of your scalp pulls a broken cry from you, though it sounds very similar to a moan. “You don’t know what you need.”

Before you can say anything else, he uses the grip on your hair to shove you to your knees. Atop his leather loafers you’re perched, forced to look up at the playwright. The creator. The one who made you this damn desperate. 

Oh, what a pretty reminder it is that you’re nothing without him. 

“When you caught my eye, I didn't expect you to be so demanding.” His fingers skillfully unbuckle his belt, pulling it from the loops. “My sweet little star, did the stage already ruin you?”

Before you can answer, the belt is looped around your neck. Fit snugly, the playwright pulls, testing it. Just enough pressure to choke you but not to harm you. Exactly how it needs to be.

Your fingers wrap around the leather, tugging lightly as you shake your head. “N-no sir.”

“Then I shouldn’t hear no come from you again.” He says with a twisted smile, free hand undoing the button of his pants. The outline of his cock is heavy, a tiny wet spot near the head that makes your mouth water. In a fluid motion, it’s in his hand, slowly pumped in front of your face. 

You’re not sure what is happening with you, the static starting to take over your brain. Without thinking, you blink up at Jisung and let your tongue roll out. Ready for him.

“Good girl.” He praises, bending down to spit in your open mouth before he slides his cock in. Lips parting, a breathy gasp leaves him as you wrap your lips around him. Taking every inch of him.

The head of his cock hits the back of your throat, soft gags fluttering around it. Nothing has ever tasted better on your tongue. Carefully, you begin to bob your head, making sure to keep your eyes on him. 

A redness creeps up his neck as sweat lines his hairline. Fuck, he’s so beautiful. Sparkling under the stage lights, every sharp detail of his face looks godlike from this angle. A perfect being to praise so passionately. 

He cups your face, softly stroking your cheek as he chokes you with the belt again. Spit is dribbling out of your mouth, rolling off your chin and hitting the hardwood floor. It’s not long before he starts to lose patience, tightening his grip on the belt and fucking your face with vigor.

“That’s it.” He groans, watching with glee as you start to twitch. Clinging to his legs for support. “That’s my good girl.”

One more sharp, deep thrust and Jisung is pulling out. The tip of his cock is angry, brought so close to the edge only to be denied. Lifting his right foot, he brings it to your shoulder, shoving you flat on your back.

His knees land on either side of you with a thud, rushed hands tugging your white sweater up. At the sight of your pink bra, a bright smile covers his face.

“Look at you.” Jisung pulls the cups down, letting your perfect tits bounce out. “I knew you were perfect for me.”

Your fingers dance across his chest, loosening every button you can find until his shirt falls open. His chest is warm compared to your hands, lingers at his nipples. With a mischievous smile, you roll one between your thumb and forefinger, delighted when his skin erupts in goosebumps.

“Fuck.” He curses under his breath before latching on to one of yours, nipping and sucking at the bud until your moans begin to echo. The entire theater getting a taste of the sweet sounds you make. 

Your head rolls back, savoring the feeling of his lips all over you. The stage lights twinkle above you, each one lighting the most beautiful scene this stage will ever see. All consumed by the thrill of him, of being the soul of the stage. It all comes back to you.

Jisung’s hands reach under your skirt, tearing at your panties until they’re ripped from your body. Moving to the other nipple, his fingers dip in your folds. Softly stroking your slit, the slick sticking to him as he feels every inch of you.

Whining, you pinch his nipple harder until he begins to bite at yours. “D-don’t tease me.”

He chuckles, biting down hard enough to leave a pretty little mark on your breast. “Fine.” And then his fingers are gone, as if they were never there.

Shock makes your jaw drop, the protests rising in your throat. What a shame they’ll never be heard — Jisung’s cock quickly takes the place of his fingers, plunging into your depths with little resistance. 

You moan in unison, eyes rolling back as the playwright begins to fuck you in earnest. His hands slip under your thighs, pushing your legs up until your knees are by your ears. The position allows him to fuck you in a way you’ve never felt before; like it’s setting the static on fire. 

Turning his head towards the empty theater, Jisung’s lips brush your calves. “Why did you audition for my show?” He grunts out, slamming into you hard before pausing. “You had no experience, practically no chance, but you took the chance. Why?”

It’s hard to think with the head of his cock pressing against your sweet spot, hands scrambling to find his shoulders. Anchoring onto him. “I-I don’t know—“

“Yes, you do.” The next thrust is more intense, knocking the breath out of you. “What brought you to me?”

Your lips start to wobble, hiccuping softly as you cry. His dark eyes are hard on you, filled with a dark lust completely unfamiliar to you. A feral craving; you thought you needed him?

Oh, little star. But he needed you more.

“Wanted.” You take a slow breath, softly cupping Jisung’s face. “To be c-close to you.”

A silence falls over the theater, long enough to make you begin to regret ever submitting an application. It was silly of you to try out, and then to fuck your idol. God, how dumb—

When Jisung starts fucking you again, it’s intense. The floor quakes beneath you, raptors shaking with the sheer volume of your cries. A large hand cups your face, turning it in the direction of the audience.

“Here you are, my star.” He grunts through his teeth, movements beginning to grow sloppy as he nears his end. “Let me give you my all.”

The heavens are breaking, cracks sending each star down to earth. They begin to rain around you, lighting you in a beautiful white flame. Never have you been so consumed, an orgasm breaking you down into nothing but dust. Body lying limp, you happily welcome Jisung into you. The force enough to rival the sun.

Your legs fall lifelessly, his head hitting your chest in a similar fashion. Wrapping his arms around your body, Jisung lays kisses on your sweaty skin. Carefully bringing you back down to him.

“I don’t think we rehearsed enough.” You say, eyes shutting as your fingers rake through his hair. “Can we run it again?”

©: chvnnie 2023

[invitationtoher]

You're in my Way, Cage. | Chapter 1: Kitana

Masterlist

Summery: Kitana Edenia, smart, beautiful, and stressed. With dreams of becoming a doctor due to her sister, Mileena, having a major case of chronic fatigue syndrome (CFS). Throughout her entire school life she's been focused on her goal of getting into the very same college that her mother and father went to and fell in love at, Mortal Kampus University (MKU), an ivy league school where the only people are intelligent as they are talented. Kitana vows to make her mother proud with no distractions, at least that was the plan until she met an obnoxious dirty blonde in her English Class.

Jonathan Carlton? No, he's Johnny Cage! Hollywood's next big star! He may not act as smart as he actually is, but he shines when it comes to entertainment, if it's on the screen or behind the scenes Johnny can do it all, thanks to the Carlton family being in the film industry for generations. Thanks to his parents money and his acting and martial arts talents (as well as writing), he got a scholarship to MKU's theater department! He knows MKU will be a good time, it's his chance to make his own name. When he sees a pretty girl in his English class whose walls seem unbreakable, he vows to break down those walls and see the real her by showing her a film.

            I always knew I was going to get into an ivy league school. My father always told me and my sister that we were born to make the world a better place, and that if he could become a governor, we could too- hell, possibly even more. So, when I got my acceptance letter to MKU, I just showed it to my parents and let them do the celebrating for me. My sister, Mileena, was also incredibly happy for me, since she is not able to attend a physical campus due to her illness.

            “I swear, you’re like a robot!” Mileena teased at my nonchalant response of getting into one of the best schools in the country, I smiled and rolled my eyes at her teasing. Of course I was excited, just not as excited as everyone else since I knew it would happen. It sounds super cocky, I know, but I was a firm believer in working hard to get what you wanted, and I worked damn hard to get into MKU. It’s like MKU was the only thing on my mind, I was volunteering constantly, I was taking college classes at a local community college, I was working jobs, joining clubs, job shadowing, and making connections within the already busy schedule of a high school student that was also attending a technical school to get a head start on their career. Although, I wanted to follow my father’s footsteps to a T, and that is exactly what I did with a different goal in mind.

            “Oh, Kitana, we’re so proud of you!” My father exclaimed with his phone in hand in front of the house, I could hear him trying to hold back his tears as Mileena teased him about it causing playful bickering as my mother fixes my hair. I scrunch my nose in slight annoyance as she messes with my long, black locks that were in my usual half-up half-down hairstyle. Although I know there was nothing wrong with my hair (and she knew it too), I would be a fool to protest my mother. When she stepped back, squinting her eyes a little to see if she missed any of the “imperfections” of my hair.

            “Smile, Ki!” My father said, on instinct I smiled brightly, the way I did during school pictures. I tried my best not to squint at the flash of my father’s phone, the bright lights blinding me in the still dark sky. He lowered his phone once he finally got a picture he was satisfied with, I blinked rapidly to get rid of the little black dots that scattered across my vision as Mileena quickly walked over to me and squeezed me into a tight hug.

            “Kick ass today, Kitana.” She whispered into my ear so mother would not hear her, a small giggle escaped my lips as I hugged her back and nodded my head, my smile dropping into its usual neutral position.

            “I will, if you need anything at all, call me.”

            “I’ll be okay, it’s a good spoon day.” She replied, I let out a small sigh of relief while she pulled away from the hug, her eyes looking into mine. “Good luck on your first day.”

            “You too, Mileena.” I say as I adjust my black puffer bag on my shoulder, I walk over to my father and hugged him tightly. The hug was bittersweet, my father had a trip to Washington D.C. for work, meaning that I have no idea when I’ll get to see him again. We were slow to pull away from each other, I gave him a melancholic smile and a small nod.

            “Good luck, father.” I said, he nodded back at me as he cleared his throat, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he did so.

            “Good luck, daughter.” I let out a small laugh at his lame attempt to mock my formalities, he wiped his eyes before leaving me and walking over to Mileena to give her a goodbye hug. My smile slowly flattened as I walked up to my mother, preparing myself for her advice.

            My mother was one of the smartest people I know, Sindel Edenia- who also went to MKU like my father, though she majored in law- is everything I wanted to be: strong, intelligent, intimidating, the list could go on. Although she is kind to me and my sister, she is also very intimidating, never putting the lawyer’s act away. She’s blunt, and she could pick you a part layer by layer like a cat with a dead mouse, she’d gut you until she got the truth.

            “Kitana, I expect you to do your best.” She said, folding her arms across her chest and pulling her purple knitted cardigan close to keep herself warm from the chilliness of late August. I bit my bottom lip gently, tasting my strawberry flavored Glossier lip balm.

            “Of course, mother, I worked too hard to disappoint.” My response earns me a small smile from my mother, she hesitantly opens her arms wide and steps forward. She hugs me, not as tightly as father or Mileena, but enough to where I can smell her elegant perfume that had the comforting smell of vanilla and jasmine. My body tenses up a bit, but I eventually hugged her back, it’s very rare that I receive hugs from my mother after 6th grade. She only hugs us for special occasions or for family photos.

            “Don’t go messing around with those foolish college boys either, you’re too smart for that.” She whispers in my ear as she runs her hand through my hair. I nod my head again, a small, shaky sigh escaping my lips.

            “Of course, mother.” I say as we pulled away from each other, I give everyone a final wave before walking to my car, pulling my keys out of my bag and fiddling with the little blue fan keychain on it that I got from my grandparents when we visited them in Taiwan. My mother’s words echoed through my head as I get into the driver’s seat of my blue 2019 Chevy Malibu, I placed my bag on the passenger’s seat before pressing the push to start button and buckling myself up. I hooked up the Bluetooth to my phone and put on my playlist before I backed out of the driveway and made my way to school.

            I never had a boyfriend before, I thought I was way too good for the boys in my grade- thanks to my mother putting that idea into my head- of course I had crushes, everyone has crushes. But I would never act on them, I felt like I would’ve disappointed my mother with my choice in men. She expected Mileena and I to get with men with a financially stable job, one that can take care of us and our children; however, I feel like Mileena has already found that person. As for me, it sounded nice, it sounded like something I should be striving for- but it just felt… off in a way. I can’t really explain it to myself, maybe it’s me being jealous of my own suspicions of Mileena finding someone to love just by her blushing and giggling at her phone screen as she typed in rapid fire speeds. I guess I’ll just have to cross that bridge when I get there.

            The college was roughly a twenty-minute drive from my home, it’s not a bad drive except if I’m driving behind someone who doesn’t know that you don’t have to go under the speed limit. I was lucky since it seemed that people were in a rush this morning, guess I’m not the only one who didn’t want to dorm and were close enough to commute.

            I was lucky enough to get a parking spot close to the technology building, I only had four classes today and my first one was Intro to computers, then Chemistry, then Microbiology, and then finally English. It didn’t seem like a bad first day, I’d keep my head low, do my work, and then I should be out in no time, nothing’s going to distract me from getting what was barely in reach now.

I worked too hard to let anyone get in my way, and I won’t let anyone get in my way.

© invitationtoher 2024

[dyns33]

The transfer

A Bruce Wayne x female cop being soulmates. 

I was too tired to reread and check all my English mistakes, sorry ! 

Y/N didn't ask to be transferred to the Gotham City Police Department.

Some of her former colleagues said it must have been a mission, because she was a good cop, talented and with integrity, the kind of cop that Gotham seemed to need. Others said it was a punishment, because she was too good and too honest, scaring some who wanted to get rid of her.

Y/N decided to believe it was fate when she met Bruce Wayne.

After all, it was always fate when two soulmates met.

There had been an attempted break-in at the Wayne Tower, the residents had been able to scare the burglar away, but the housekeeper had been very scared, the butler was just getting out of the hospital, and the owner was someone importantly, so several police officers had been sent to the scene to check that they were no longer at risk.

Y/N didn't know Gotham at all. She hadn't really cared about it, except the crime rate, and the neighborhood she had moved to. She only knew some her new colleagues, especially Jim Gordon and Ramirez.

It was a shock to meet Bruce Wayne. An honor according to Ramirez, who seemed to admire the man from afar.

     "Hello... I'm Agent Y/N Y/L/N.", she introduced herself shyly, looking the man in the eye, as she was taking the statement from Mr. Pennyworth and his boss.

The one she thought was her soulmate looked at her too, before lowering his eyes without saying anything. His butler answered all her questions, then he thanked her for her kindness, before accompanying his master to his room.

Bruce Wayne didn't look at her a second time.

Returning to the station, Y/N tried to persuade herself that he was in shock. It could be difficult to meet his soulmate under such circumstances, and he might need time. Or it wasn't the right Bruce Wayne.

She didn't think about it for a while, especially after meeting the Batman.

It didn't seem to shock many people to see a guy dressed as a giant bat walking around town and fighting crime. Well, some cops wanted to arrest him, but others saw him as an ally.

Jim Gordon was one of those threads. And Jim Gordon was a good cop, so Y/N decided to trust him.

     "He can be a little weird, rude, stubborn and quiet, but he helps us a lot. It's not easy to keep peace and security in this city, and even though he's an outlaw, he doesn't never killed anyone, so..."

     "It still wouldn't be good for everyone to start imitating him."

     "You don't know the Riddler, it's obvious."

     "The what ?"

     "You're new."

Gordon was right, he was silent. Rude. Appearing in shadows, speaking little, with his deep voice. The costume might have been ridiculous, but Y/N could understand that the criminals were afraid of him.

The beginnings were complicated, because the Batman did not trust people easily. Like Bruce Wayne, or so it seemed.

Several times, Y/N tried to communicate with him, under the pretext of the progress of the case, but each time, it was the governess or the butler who answered her. They looked sorry, which didn't help her to know if she had found her soulmate or not.

Her teammate, Martinez, taught her more about the Waynes. About what happened when the family came home from the theater. Y/N hadn't thought to inquire on her own, she found it inappropriate. This allowed her to understand Bruce Wayne a little better, and to decide to give him more time.

During this time, she began to get to know the Bat better.

They were working on cases more and more often. The masked vigilante seemed to gradually accept the presence of the new policewoman, even if he remained a man of few words.

According to Gordon, he had spoken to her more than to anyone since his arrival, more than two years ago.

     "Jim will end up being jealous."

     "Why ? He's still my favorite mustachioed cop."

     "I'll tell him you said that."

     "He won't believe you." said Batman with a smile in his voice, despite his impassive face.

After several months, Y/N ended up taking stock of her situation. Gotham's crime rate remained hopelessly the same despite their best efforts. She was starting to like Batman a lot. And Bruce Wayne still hadn't contacted her.

One day when she felt particularly depressed because of her job, she went to the Wayne Tower, where she was greeted by Alfred. The butler doesn't seem to believe for a second her excuse regarding the investigation, which had long been abandoned for lack of evidence.

He was still nice to her, letting her talk. It was then that Bruce walked down the hall. Their eyes met, he paused for a moment, surprised, but visibly recognizing her, before leaving as quickly as he had appeared. His butler apologized for him. Y/N was then certain of two things that day. Bruce Wayne was her soulmate, and he didn't want her.

It was rare to be rejected. Most of the time, your soulmate would either die or you never had the chance to meet them. But rejection ? Horrible.

However, she had to accept the situation and move on. Y/N always had a goal, her job. And Batman.

It was probably a stupid mistake to get attached to a man she knew nothing about, except his mouth and his voice. That she didn't see more than an hour, from time to time, to talk about crimes. But in her loneliness and despair, he was the only person who brought her some joy.

He wasn't as rude as Gordon had said when she kissed him. It was one evening, after a long case. Y/N was very tired. She wanted to go home and sleep. He had come to collect clues, he had noted that she was not well, and contrary to his habits, he had stayed when he had had what he wanted. Almost shyly, he asked if there was anything he could do. And without thinking, she kissed him.

     "... No. Y/N, no." he said kindly, pushing her away before leaving through the window.

They didn't talk about it again. Y/N tried not to be heartbroken for the second time in less than a year. It was stupid.

She thought she understood why the Bat had done this when she saw him with the thief who disguised herself as a cat. They seemed close. Very close.

It wasn't normally proper to talk about other people's soulmates. Soulmates were a private thing. But after almost a year in this city where justice did not work, after being rejected, having lost sleep, having worked with a vigilante, Y/N didn't care a bit about what was proper or not.

     "Is she your soulmate ?"

     "Who ?"

     "The Cat ?" Y/N asked without looking at him, focused on the last crime scene photos they were studying together.

She felt Batman's gaze on her, that dark, piercing gaze. He said nothing for a long moment, which she interpreted as a confession, and a demand that she not continue talking about it.

     "... No." he eventually admited.

     "No ? I thought so."

     "No."

     "Okay. Sorry."

They continued to work in silence, but she could feel that he wasn't as relaxed as before, not as focused, still staring at her instead of thinking about the series of murders they wanted to solve.

     "Have you met your soulmate ?" She couldn't help but ask.

     "... Maybe."

     "I'm not looking to find out your identity, if that's what you're worried about. I'd be glad if you met them. You deserve some happiness and calm in all this darkness."

This time, he was totally looking at her. Y/N forced herself not to turn around, as if she didn't feel he was staring at her gravely.

     "Afterwards, it doesn't matter if you haven't met them yet. It's easier when you're alone, I guess. And you must be afraid that they won't understand, or that they will in danger."

     "... A bit."

     "Nobody's ever really safe. And if they're your soulmate, they'll understand. It's hard, but they'll understand. Anything can be accepted out of love, like... Like rejection."

It was official, they weren't going to finish this case tonight. Y/N couldn't concentrate at all, trying not to cry thinking about Bruce.

     "Don't reject your soulmate if you meet them, please. It hurts, a lot."

     "... You were rejected ?" he asked, as if he didn't believe it.

     "Yes. But he has his reasons. He's had… a tough life."

     "... Maybe it's not rejection. Maybe he's scared, and he's not good with people."

     "It's a certainty, but I still waited almost a year, I know when I'm not wanted. Sorry, it's late."

Batman didn't try to hold her back. He said nothing about her tears, or the ongoing investigation. Y/N was a little disappointed. Even if he had tried to reassure her, she would have wanted more. That he asked her to stay, that he told her that he loved her, that he went on the window of her apartment while she was preparing tea.

Instead, someone knocked on her door, and it wasn't him.

     "... Mister Wayne ?" she wondered when she saw him in front of her, holding roses.

     "I know it's late. For everything. I wanted to apologize and... Invite you ?"

     "Invite me ? Where ? When ? You don't sound sure ?"

     "... I don't know. I never invited anyone."

Bruce Wayne looked as adorable as he was vulnerable in that moment, lost, as he stared down at her feet as he handed her the flowers, whispering that it was for her. Y/N couldn't do anything but invite him in, since he didn't know how.

     "Your place is small." he noted, surveying her apartment.

     “Thanks.”

     "No, I mean... It's fine."

     "Don't take this the wrong way, but why now ?" she asked without hatred or detour.

     "I... I didn't know if it was a good idea, before. I'm losing everyone. They're hurt. I didn't mean to... But you've been here for a year now. You're a good cop. A good person. I wish... I wish I got to know you better."

She didn't ask him how he knew that, asking him if he wanted something to drink, coffee or tea. He demanded what kind of tea, and when she replied real tea, he muttered that Alfred would love her, which made her laugh.

A car passed in the street. The lighting in the apartment wasn't strong, so Bruce's mouth was brighter than the rest of his face for a moment, a brief moment, during which Y/N froze on his lips. Lips that seemed familiar, like that voice and those dark eyes. She thought back to what he had said about fear.

They looked at each other without moving, Y/N trying to hide what she had just understood, and Bruce seemed to be waiting for her to say it.

     "So...  Tea ?"

     "Coffee, thank you."

     "Sugar ?"

     "No, thanks."

     "Oh. Black. Like the suit. Alright."

She had said that as a test, but mainly to make a joke, and lighten the atmosphere. After all, she could be wrong, she was very tired, and very attracted by her soulmate as by the Bat.

A hand on her shoulder made her turn around as she picked up two cups, and there was no longer any doubt when he kissed her. Y/N had already kissed this man.

Bruce Wayne was Batman. Her soulmate. Who she'd been working with for a year, who she'd had a weird relationship with for months, and who hadn't said anything the whole time.

She could have been upset, but it was hard when he was looking at her with that apologetic, scared puppy look. Not good with people, that's what he had said. It was terribly obvious when she wanted to kiss him again, but his attention was already elsewhere, fixed on the window.

     "... I have to go." he sighed, gently pushing her away. "... Thanks for the coffee."

He added nothing. Batman had never been talkative, there was no reason for Bruce to be much more so. He didn't ask her when they were going to see each other again, he would probably find her the following night at the police station. He didn't give her his number either.

In the sky, the Batsignal lit up the clouds, a message for the criminals, and for him. If Y/N wanted to see him, she already knew how.

Despite everything, she showed up the next morning at the Wayne Tower, welcomed by an Alfred who was too smiling for him not to already know, who offered her tea and homemade buicuits, before going to fetch his master.

     "He is not morning person, but it must be said that he sleeps little." said Alfred, returning to sit beside her.

     "It must not be easy for you."

     "You have no idea, my dear. I hope you can help me."

     "I can try, but he's known to be weird, rude, quiet and stubborn."

     "It is the least we can say !"

     "I knew you weren't supposed to meet." Bruce muttered as he entered the living room. "Don't plot against me."

     "It's not a conspiracy if you know about it."

     "Alfred..."

     "We will talk later." whispered the butler with a mischievous smile. "Master Bruce, don't sigh, come back and eat a bit with Miss Y/L/N !"

Y/N tried not to laugh as Bruce acted like a child. With this new perspective, he sometimes acted like Batman, but he seemed more mature because of the mask, showing no emotion when Jim spoke to him like Alfred.

He came over to her, muttering a shy hello, taking a seat on her right to chew on two blueberries, before letting his hand slide against the chair, one of his fingers touching her hand.

A year ago, Y/N arrived in Gotham, a dark, hopeless city where she didn't know anyone. At that moment, thinking about her job, her co-workers, and her ridiculously adorable soulmate who fought crime at night disguised as a giant bat, she thought she couldn't have asked for a better transfer.

[electratheart]

my mini essay about how much i love haikyu bc i need to express it pls

oh gosh idk what’s come over me but i could not be happier honestly.

after watching the dumpster battle move in theaters last month, i feel like ive been thrown into a full fledged haikyu phase that i missed out on both in 2020 (but it’s fine i heard it was also horrid at times during this, but lowkey looked fun LOL) and when i watched it for the first time in 2021 (ik im a little late to the game… don’t remind me)

when i watched it for the first time, i obviously loved it. but it’s hitting so much harder now—how im both reading the manga from volume 1 to rewatching the series (loosely) side by side. and i rarely rewatch anime’s unless it’s casual random ep (i.e ohshc or hxh for me hehe)

something about it this time means so much more. haikyu gets me so excited, hyped, happy, and so emotional. i don’t even play volleyball, but i do love the sport! yet it makes me feel like i can fly too 😭😭 i wish i was able to witness this series during its first release (i would’ve been in middle school!!) and i feel like it would hit so hard to grow up with them and the series 🥹 but it’s okay—timing is everything. even 3 years is a while already too.

but i’m so glad to have haikyu rekindle this spirit of excitement and motivation in my life right now. the story. the characters. how they all grow and develop and improve. and the themes about teamwork, believing in yourself, passions, hard work, everything in between just reminds me and teaches me so much in my own life too. i could go on and on but this is only a mini essay after all haha. i just love it so much.

thank u furudate for creating such a masterpiece. this piece of work changed the world and so many lives. even mine. and ik this might sound corny but idc. i really do love haikyu and what it means to me. everything about it, it makes me want to live that way too—to go after my dreams and believe in myself and cultivate my passions and work hard and find a community and live my life the way i want. so simple but powerful at the same time.

it makes me sad that the manga is over and we’ll only be getting another movie (literally robbing us…. i’m still manifesting for a new season idc idc i’m in denial) but i know haikyu is always there for me whenever i need it. and look, i can rewatch it, reread it over and over again. bc the spirit of haikyu goes on forever always!! we keep on flying higher!!!