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victorianbatman · 9 months ago

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ATLA/LOK incorrect quotes

F, M & GN reader | every scenario without the readers gender being specified is Gender Neutral.

Bolin, on the phone with Mako: Mako, I need you to come pick me up.

Mako: Why?

Bolin: Y/n is busy passive-aggressively doing the dishes they asked me to do 6 hours ago.

Bolin: This house is not safe anymore.

Mako: Hey, whats for dinner?

Bolin: I cant tell you, its a soup-rise.

Mako: Is it soup?

Y/n: We soup-ose is could be.

Mako: Enough with the soup puns you two.

Bolin: Aww, you never soup-port our jokes.

[Five minutes later]

Mako: It was fucking tacos.

Mako: The stars look really pretty tonight.

Y/n: Yeah, they do.

Mako: You know who else looks pretty tonight?

Y/n: Asami.

Mako, at the same time: Korra.

Y/n: What?

Mako: What?

Toph: Do you do anything other than whine like a little bitch?

Y/n: Sometimes I whine like a BIG bitch.

Mako, not looking up from his book: What did she(Kuvira) do now?

Y/n: SHE SMILED!

Mako: At you?

Y/n: No, at her dumb friends, but she looks like an angel.

Mako: Go away, Y/n.

Y/n: Shut up, I watched you pine after Korra while in a relationship with Asami.

Mako: Go on.

Korra: We can bake these cookies at 400 degrees for 10 minutes or 4,000 degrees for 1 minute.

Lin: That’s not how you make cookies.

Y/n: FLOOR IT!

Bolin: How about 4,000,000 degrees for 1 second?

Lin: yOURE GONNA BURN THE HOUSE DOWN!!

Korra: IM GONNA HARVEST THE POWER OF THE FUCKING SUN TO MAKE COOKIES!!

Y/n&Bolin: DO IT!

Lin: NO-

Korra: I’m small, but knowing.

Tall!Y/n: You dont be knowing what the top of a shelf looks like though.

Korra: …

Tall!Y/n: …

Korra: Bitch.

Bolin and Mako watching Y/n from a distance chase a squirrel.

Bolin: Thats the person I see myself married to in the future.

Bolin: Thoughts?

Mako: …

Bolin: …

Mako: ..and prayers, bro.

Y/n: My autistic friend(book 1 zuko) is my favourite person on the planet. I asked if he would still be friends with me if I got a mullet and without looking up he said “we are not friends” like ok bestie.

Korra: Theres only one thing worse than losing.

[Tips over paper saying ‘losing Y/n’]

Y/n: Me.

Korra: No-

Y/n: Are you sure you’re ok?

Zuko, crying: Yeah, it’s just these onions, man.

Y/n: …

Zuko: …

Y/n: Those are potatoes.

[Asami, puts on chapstick]

Y/n: What flavour is that?

Asami: oh its [chapstick flavour].

Y/n: Lemme taste.

Asami: Sure.

[hands chapstick]

Y/n, kisses Asami

Y/n: Shit it does actually taste like [Chapstick flavour].

[Asami blushing like crazy]

Y/n: Aang, why do good people die young?

Aang: When you are in a garden full of flowers, which one do you pick?

Y/n: The ugly ones.

Aang: Exactly- wait wait what, why?

Y/n: Because ugly bitches dont belong in my garden.

Toph: Hi, im your doctor today, I’ll be drawing your blood as soon as I’m done with my capri sun.

[Misses the hole four times before finally getting the straw in]

[Y/n, sweats profusely]

Sokka: I have the sharpest memory, name one time I forgot something.

Y/n: You forgot me and Suki back in the fire nation 3 weeks ago.

Sokka: I did that on purpose, try again.

Y/n: Listen to me, love is a scam.

Bolin: You’re making a valentines card for Mako right now.

Y/n, points glue gun at him: You’re on thin fuckin ice.

Zuko: Whats with the napkin on the glass door?

Y/n: Aang keeps walking into the glass door, so I thought this might help.

Aang: Oh cool, a floating napkin!

[Walks into glass door]

#atla #lok #x reader #korra x reader #bolin x reader #mako x reader #asami x reader #sokka x reader #toph x reader #zuko x reader #aang x reader #atla x reader #lok x reader

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mooooonnnzz · 3 months ago

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hiii, saw request is still open and just finished reading forwards beckon rebound and bawled my eyes out.

so i was wondering if you could maybe make something with ford having a kid (reader) who's like really young when he got pushed into the portal and stanley raising reader and reader reminds stanley so much of ford when they were younger and is a nerd like their old man it hurts stanley so much to see the resemblance.

Dream About Me

Platonic!Stanley Pines x Child!Reader

ᰔ 1,8k words!

ᰔ MULLET STANLEYY!!!

ᰔ slight angst? or heavy angst? it's just overall sad really depends on the person

ᰔ gender neutral reader!

ᰔ request are open!

𐒘𝛠 When Stan took you in, he never thought how painful it would be to see all Ford’s quirks and traits shine in you. Seeing his smile on your face made it really hard for him to continue on with his day without breaking down into violent sobs, especially freshly after Stan had accidentally pushed Ford into the portal. Another wound to the heart was the additional finger on each of your hands. He hadn’t noticed until one day during dinner when you were sitting in front of him, coloring within the lines of the coloring book he had gotten you days prior. Your hand was splayed across the page, hand pressing down on the other side of the page to keep it from closing it on you. His eyes brushed past your hand, disregarding the six finger, just like he always did with Ford when his eyes shot back to your fingers, eyes widening upon seeing the extra appendage. He would’ve choked on his food if he didn’t swallow it moments before.

𐒘𝛠 “Are you looking at my extra finger?” Your fingers curled inwards on instinct, nuzzling them into your palm. “Dad told me to never be ashamed of my extra finger.” You tell him, which sounded more of you trying to reassure yourself than anything. “Did he really?” A wistful smile pulls at his lips, his eyes distantly looking down at his plate. “Yeah. He said that it’s a gift. We both shared our weirdness together.” Your other hand that was holding the crayon was now wrapped in your other hand, the crayon discarded on top of the unfinished page. Stan’s teeth snagged on his bottom lip. This was harder than he thought. “And you-you should treat it like one, k-kid. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.” He had tried coming off as stern, but the way he fumbled over his words and how his voice cracked in all the wrong places made it lose its whole empowering purpose. But you managed to get the message. A smile all too similar for Stan’s liking shown on your face. “Do you have an extra finger, Uncle Stan?” You brought your six fingered hand in front of his face, wiggling them wildly. “Unfortunately, I do not.” He pressed his palm against yours, his large hand completely dwarfing yours. “Ah! Five fingers!” You retract your hand away from Stan’s, wide eyes never leaving his five fingers. “I have actually never seen five fingers before!” You comment, flicking his fingers. “Have ya never seen another person that isn’t your dad?” Stan initially meant it as a lighthearted joke, but the way you sheepishly looked down to the ground told him very clearly that Ford had never taken you out of this house. ”Maybe once or twice when I was a baby?” You shrug. “He’s been so busy with everything else he left me to myself.” Sounds just like Ford. He hopes you don’t inhabit that from him.

𐒘𝛠 Your insatiable curiosity was full force. Everything always needs to have a reason or explanation, and if not, you would forge a plausible reasoning that ties your question into a nice little answer. Seeing this in a different perspective really rattled through Stan. He had found this side of Ford when they were younger plenty annoying, always wondering why his brother couldn’t leave things be, but seeing you do it was a messy mix of bittersweet and gut churning. Hearing you ask all the same questions Ford had asked them when they were younger sent him in for a loop. How could you be so eerily alike to him? Even the passionate twinkle in his eye had passed down onto you. “Uncle Stan!” You padded over to him, book in hand with messy scrambles of your writing. “Look what I discovered!” Stan forced a smile onto his face, stomach twisting into vicious knots. “What did ya find, kiddo?” You eagerly nod your head as you spoke with the same vigor and passion Ford had all those years ago and shoved your book into his lap. Looking down at your book had some semblance of Ford’s cursive writing, but it had seemed that it was a mix of his and Ford’s. “This is really nice, kiddo.” He strained out, rapidly blinking away the tears that were threatening to fall out. “So you believe me? You believe my theories?” You rambled out, oblivious to Stan’s fighting battle with his emotions. “Yes, kiddo.” He pushes himself off the couch, running a hand through his hair. “I need a m-moment. Gotta check on this mullet.” He leaves with that and you’re left wondering what you did wrong.

𐒘𝛠 When you were about twelve years old, Stan had caught you squinting at him from afar, the same way Ford would look at him without his glasses—he didn’t mean to draw everything back to Ford, you just were an exact carbon copy of him, unfortunately for him. So he conducted an at home experiment where he stood far away from you, holding up a sign with words that looked like a blended mush to you. That was enough to prove to Stan and you that you needed glasses. Getting a pair of frames sent Stan in for a loop. As if you didn’t act enough like Ford, now you had glasses that made Stan’s stomach drop whenever he looked at you. “How do I look?” You smile at Stan, the comically large glasses sliding down your nose. “Maybe we should get smaller ones?” Stan suggested, plucking the frames off your face and setting them back on the display stand. His eyes abruptly landed on ones that looked exactly like Ford’s glasses when he was about your age. He cleared his throat, shaking him out of that weird trance and ambling on to more of the display cabinets with glasses. “What about these!” He turns around and when his eyes lock on you, his mouth runs dry. “A-Are ya sure you want those?” You scamper over to the mirror, a small gasp leaving you. “I look like Dad.” You whisper. Confliction swimming in your eyes. “You don’t have to keep em—“ You wave him off. “It’s okay, Uncle Stan. I-I think it keeps his memory alive, right?” Stan swallows, nodding slowly. “Yeah, maybe you’re right.”

𐒘𝛠 Staring at yourself in the mirror, you flickered your eyes back and forth to a polaroid photo of Ford to yourself in the mirror. There was some resemblance. Especially with you wearing your glasses. It made sense why Stan couldn’t really keep a straight face whenever he talked or even looked at you. You internally fought with yourself, jumping back and forth to liking the fact that you looked like Ford or to hating the fact that you do. You had his eye shape, his nose, his smile, the extra finger, even the stupid need to have glasses. You have his mannerisms, the way you speak is a lot like how he talked when he was your age–told to you by Stan, and so much more that you couldn’t dwell into before you’d burst out into tears. It was both a blessing and a curse. A worn out sigh leaves you, brain spinning and pounding harshly against your skull. This wasn’t going to lead you anywhere. Picking at your features and wishing that you didn’t have them wasn’t going to be beneficial for anyone. You pocket the photo and swing the door open to see Stan right in front of you currently in the process of opening the door. “Oh!” You step back and Stan jolts up. “I didn’t know you were in there, kiddo. I’m sorry.” A sheepish hand rubs his neck. “It’s okay. I was leaving anyway.” You sadly smiled at him, stepping out of the bathroom. Stan raises an eyebrow, catching the melancholy look in your eyes. “You doin’ alright?” You stop in your tracks, hand ghosting the pocket where the photo of Ford was in. “I-,.” The words die in your throat when you notice the concerned look in his eyes. You didn’t want to put any more weight onto his shoulders. “I’m alright. Thanks Uncle Stan.” Stan looks at you hesitantly before nodding to himself, bidding you a quick goodbye. “You can tell me anything, just lettin’ ya know.” He lastly says, closing the door, leaving you to your thoughts in the silent hallway. You weren’t sure if you were ever going to get the guts to truly tell Stan how you feel.

𐒘𝛠 As the years go by, Stan had found himself breaking out of his habits of relating you to Ford and saw you as your own person. But there would be times where he would slip up back into his old ways and meddle in his mind. You had adopted a few of Ford’s mannerisms, from the way he spoke to how he fidgeted, you had it all. He’d catch glimpses of Ford whenever he would see your pinched concentrated face. Sometimes you’d walk into the lab to show him all the theories you thought of to fix the portal and Stan would just look at you, guilt and despair heavy on his expression. You would have to awkwardly bring him back and repeat everything you had just said to him. “I’m sorry that I keep reminding you of him.” You fidget with your spinny chair, softly swaying from side to side to ease your anxiety. “It’s not your fault. I promise.” He kneels down beside you, patting your shoulder reassuringly. A moment of silence passes before you turn your head over to look at him. “Sometimes I think you’re going to up and leave because I act like him sometimes.” Stan has had hard times coming to terms with you being so alike to his lost twin. Nights he’d spent crying on his bed, wondering if this is all worth the struggle. There’s times where he couldn’t even look at you without being choked up in his own cries. He wasn’t emotionally stable enough for this and he was doubting his capabilities of taking care of you. But alongside pain, you also brought him joy, you gave him a reason to wake up in the mornings, to smile, to laugh. Stan takes a shaky breath in. “Kid, I’m gonna be honest with ya. It’s been hard, extremely hard. I’m not gonna sit here and tell ya that it’s been all sunshine and rainbows, because it hasn’t. But what I can say is that I have been getting better, with the whole Ford thing. Sometimes it comes back like a slap on the face and I’m left scramblin’ but, at the end of the day, you have shined so brightly and shown me how incredible you are, just as yourself. And no matter how hard it gets, I’ma stay right by your side.” Wrapping him in a bone tight hug, you let out a relieved sob. “Thank you,” you cry out. Stan pats your back soothingly. “You’re also my kid now. Forever imprinted on me. I’m not goin’ anywhere.”

Taglist: @boredwithlifeatthispoint, @lovexsage, @teddycricketdream, @theilluminatidragonqueen, @raventeen @cedarmoonzz, @katharine3000

dm or comment if you want to be added/removed!!

just wanted to share that i had the worst food poisoning ever these past few days

#gravity falls #gravity falls x reader #stanley pines x reader #stan pines #stanley pines x dauhter!reader #stanley pines x child!reader #stanley pines x daughter! reader #stanley pines #stan pines x reader

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heavyhitterheaux · 6 months ago

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Notice Me

AN: We're going to pretend that Latto was the headliner on day one because SZA is the face claim lol

Synopsis: While at Gazebo Fest with your best friend, you happen to meet Jack, and the two of you quickly take to each other. Once you part ways, you are heavy on Jack’s mind, and he's determined to see you again

Pairing: Jack Harlow x Reader

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

“Why is it so got damn hot out here?!” Your best friend Kayla asked as she was digging through her clear backpack to find something to fan herself with.

“You do realize that it's the end of May and almost June, right?” You replied as you laughed at her and took a sip of water.

The two of you were in the VIP section of Gazebo Fest and couldn't wait to see all the different performances throughout the entire weekend, but you were most excited to see your celebrity crush for as long as you could remember, Jack Harlow.

You had gotten there two days before so that it could give you some time to explore Louisville before having to go to the festival. You and Kayla had gone to Churchill Downs, Morris Deli, and to see his Hometown Hero banner. Before the two of you went home, the goal was to hit up Barrels and Billets to make your own bourbon to take back home with you.

Glancing at the time, you quickly opened the Gazebo Fest app on your phone to see who would be performing next and got excited when you saw that it was Paris Texas. As you were sliding your phone in your back pocket, Kayla started hitting your arm repeatedly.

“Ow! What is your problem?!” You exclaimed while turning to look at her.

“I spy a mullet and that can only mean that it belongs to your man. Look to your left. Okay slowly turn and look. I see Clay too!”

Doing as you were told, you quickly saw him and you felt your heart skip a beat. Kayla liked Jack and his music, but she was more so here for Vince Staples as well as the younger Harlow.

“Maybe you'll get a marriage proposal before we leave on Monday.”

“Kayla, as much as I would like that… shut up.”

“Hey, stranger things have happened.” She replied while holding her hands up in defense.

Once Paris Texas set was over, the crowd dispersed and only a few of you were left at the barricade talking and mingling amongst each other when Kayla leaned over and whispered in your ear.

“I need to pee.”

“What the? Why are you whispering? Is that supposed to be a secret?”

“I don't want to go by myself and the girl next to me told me that she would save our spots.”

“Come on then.” You said as you went and grabbed her hand.

The two of you started walking to the VIP bathrooms when your breath hitched in your throat as you saw Jack was sitting in the driver's seat of a golf cart surrounded by people on his team.

“Sike! I don't have to pee, but go over to your man! He's looking at you and smiling!”

“Kayla…” You said through gritted teeth since you knew that she knew how shy you were.

All she did was slightly push you forward as Jack waved you over to come to him.

“Hey pretty girl, enjoying yourself so far?” Jack asked you as you had finally worked up the nerve to approach him. Your heart was racing a mile a minute.

“So far, I have no complaints so my answer is yes.” You responded while smiling.

Your only goal was not to look absolutely crazy in front of him. But you were going to kill Kayla later.

“Is it your first time here in Louisville?”

“No, I've been here before, but this is the first time that I actually got to explore the city. I was here for every NPLH you had.”

“Where are you from?”

“The DMV. Maryland specifically.”

“The D stands for Delaware right?” Jack curiously asked, but you immediately shook your head no.

“Do me a favor. When you go there again, do not let anyone hear you say that. It stands for D.C. Now Delmarva is Delaware, Maryland, and Virginia.” You answered while trying not to laugh.

“Then it's a good thing that I asked you, huh?”

“Yes, because somebody would have taken offense to that, believe it or not.”

“What song do you want to hear me do tomorrow?”

“I… How am I supposed to do just one?!”

“Fine. Give me your top five.”

“I need you to do every song you've ever recorded, but five does give me a little more wiggle room. Hmm, Heavy Hitter, Ghost, Sundown, Eastern Parkway, Dark Knight, and I NEED Smells Like Incense because you've never done that one live.”

“Oh, I got a day one in my presence. And that was six songs by the way.” He replied while giving you a boyish grin.

Jack was captivated the first time he laid his eyes on you earlier that afternoon from behind the Gazebo stage as he saw you and Kayla at barricade.

“I told you that it was hard for me to choose. You're lucky I didn't say Power Tools.”

“Damn, not you going back to The Handsome Harlow.”

“Have to admit it's one of my favorites.” You replied as you shrugged.

“I don't want to keep you from your friend all day, but I'll look forward to seeing you tomorrow.”

Hearing him say that made you feel as though you were going to burst from having so many butterflies.

“You won't have to look far either. I'll be barricade.”

The rest of the day you and Kayla made the most of it watching all of the performances, getting drinks, and taking pics with Urban as well as other members of Private Garden.

The next morning, both of you woke up when your alarm went off at 8 ready for the day ahead. Both of you started off with mimosas and quickly moved to taking a few shots before it was ultimately time to get ready.

What stopped you in your tracks was a notification on your Gazebo app saying that because of the weather, the doors wouldn't be opening at 1 and to stay close to your phone to keep up with the alerts.

“You can't be fucking serious. We need to get barricade!” You said as you ran to the window to look outside at the weather. For right now, the sky was simply cloudy and gloomy. Not a raindrop in sight.

“What's wrong?” Kayla asked as she opened a bag of doritos and began stuffing them in her mouth.

“The opening of the gates are delayed.” You replied as you rolled your eyes.

“Until when!?”

“I'm not sure, it didn't say. I guess they'll send out another update so we can know.”

Kayla then grabbed her phone to pull up the weather app and simply shook her head.

“Babe, I don't know. I think we just might be under a tornado warning.”

“A WHAT!? NO! WHY TODAY? CAN IT WAIT UNTIL TOMORROW?” You exclaimed while running back towards the window.

“Apparently not.”

“Let's just pray that they don't cancel it. I know you have a date with your baby daddy later. I saw mine yesterday.”

“He is literally the entire reason I came this weekend and now that might be ruined.”

“Let's just try and stay positive. We don't even have a concrete answer yet. Things could always change. But let's get our outfits together so we can be ready.”

It was now around 4 PM on Sunday and Jack was stressed. He had put so much time and effort as well as money into this and all he wanted to do was bring a music festival back to his city while having some of his favorite artists perform. He was trying not to sulk, but it was looking more and more like day 2 of Gazebo Fest wasn't about to happen.

“At least we had a good first day. You can't be mad at yourself for that.” Urban said as he sat down next to him.

“I know. I just don't want to compromise anyone's safety. People are going to be pissed.”

“They'll be pissed but they'll be alive.” He heard Clay say as he walked into the room.

“Then I need to call it.”

After he posted to his Instagram story the sad news of it being canceled, his thoughts immediately went to you.

“SHIT!”

“What? What's wrong?” Both Clay and Urban asked as they looked at him.

“The girl I was talking to yesterday.”

“You talked to a lot of girls yesterday?” Clay responded, confused as to what he was getting at.

“Not as long as I did her! The one with the curly hair!”

“Oh in VIP?”

“Yeah, and I totally forgot to ask her what her name was. Fuck.”

“Yall got a date or something we don't know about?”

“I was going to ask her when I saw her today, but now that's damn near impossible.”

Now not only was day two not happening, but he wasn’t about to see you either, until an idea came to him.

“Do you two remember what she looks like?” He asked both Urban and Clay as they nodded their heads.

“Okay, this might be a long shot, but maybe we can find her on instagram?”

“What the? How the HELL are we supposed to do that?” Clay asked, looking at his older brother in disbelief.

“The gazebo tag.” Urban answered for him and Jack simply nodded.

“Let’s get to it then.”

The three of them had been searching for a total of two hours when Urban had finally found you. He took a quick screenshot of the picture that was posted on Kayla’s page and cropped it before handing his phone to Jack.

“Found her!”

“Let me see!”

As Urban was handing Jack his phone, it slipped out of his grasp onto the carpet below and Jack quickly dove for it, but it was too late. The screen had hit the home button on the app and everything had refreshed.

“You cannot be fucking serious! It refreshed your feed!”

“Wait, I got a screenshot!”

Urban quickly took his phone back and pulled it up in his gallery to show him as Clay was now looking over both of their shoulders to see what was happening.

“But you cropped it! It doesn’t have the username anymore!” Jack said before sighing and defeat was quickly washing over him.

“Hold on, now I have an idea.” Clay said while smirking.

Jack eyed him and motioned for him to continue.

“Post the screenshot and ask your followers on instagram to find her for you.”

You and Kayla had been in your hotel room sulking for hours at the fact that Gazebo day 2 had been canceled. So the two of you quickly decided to watch Jack’s interview along with WMCJ to pass the time, until Kayla screamed at the top of her lungs while looking down at her phone.

“BITCHHHHH!”

“Leave me to sulk in peace.” You replied while putting the comforter over your head.

“I don’t think you’ll be sulking too much longer. Jack is looking for you.”

“Excuse me?” Now this caught your attention and the comforter was now lying beside you as Kayla shoved her phone in your face as you saw his post on instagram.

Liked by urbanwyatt, claybornharlow, gazebo, quiiso, taylorrooks, and 1,284,096 others

jackharlow: I need a favor. Someone find the girl on the left for me.

When you were done looking at it, you handed Kayla back her phone and laid back down.

“Bitch, what the fuck are you doing? Your HUSBAND is looking for you! Respond to this man!”

“But… I don’t know…” You said while playing with the ends of your curly hair.

“You don’t know what? He obviously wants to talk to you again so what’s the problem?”

“What if this isn’t even what we think it is?”

“Y/N, he made an instagram post asking millions of his followers to find you. I think he’s making it pretty clear that more than likely he wants to date you.”

“I… now I know your ass is delusional.” You said while looking at her and shaking your head.

“Well, what do YOU think the reason is? Because I KNOW my ass is right. Just respond and see what he says. It can’t hurt. You didn’t get to see him perform today so this is the next best thing. You have to learn to take chances and not be so scared all the time.”

You sat there contemplating what you were going to do when you noticed that Kayla was staring at you.

“What?”

“If you get to fuck Jack Harlow, I want a five page research paper with sources and a title page in APA format when we get back home.”

It had been around six in the evening when you had seen Jack’s post and still hadn’t thought of a way to creatively respond to it. It was now ten at night and you and Kayla were getting ready to go to an after party that Ace Pro was hosting not too far from where your hotel was when you had gotten the perfect idea once you were settled in Kayla’s car. You had quickly explained to her what the plan was and it seemed as if she was more excited than you were about you finally responding to him.

“I knew what I was doing when I picked out that outfit for you! He is bound to see you in this and rip it off the second that you two are in person.”

“KAYLA!”

“What?! Just telling the truth. Now pose so we can get a good one and post it.”

Liked by mahkaylaaa, jackharlowsource, urbandjack26, gazebo, and 348 others

barricadebaddie: word on the street is that jackharlow is looking for me. Is that true?

Your location was set to Streets of Louisville and you were hoping that he would see it and respond.

You just hope that you didn’t take too long to answer him.

It took less than fifteen minutes for a notification to pop up on your phone saying that you had a new message on instagram.

1 New Message from jackharlow

“KAYLA HE SENT ME A MESSAGE!” The two of you had just pulled up to the club that the after party was going to take place in when your heart started beating a mile a minute once more.

“WELL OPEN IT!”

jackharlow

I meant what I said when I told you that I looked forward to seeing you today. I wanted to meet up with you tonight if you were up for it.

You

Of course I’m up for it

jackharlow

If you’re at Ace’s party I’m on my way there

You

See you when you get here

jackharlow

Then I was hoping we can go somewhere by ourselves

Your eyes went wide as you shoved your phone into Kayla’s hand who quickly took it and read the message.

“Oh yeah, yall fucking later. If you need condoms, I got you.”

“I swear I can’t take your ass anywhere.”

“Look, don’t get mad at me for being prepared.”

You

I’d like that and I’m definitely up for it

Jack had liked your message before you saw that he quickly followed you.

You and Kayla went inside and had gone all the way in the back in the far left corner as the two of you ordered drinks and simply waited for Jack to arrive. A lump felt as if it was growing in your throat that you quickly swallowed back down knowing that it was your nerves getting the best of you.

As shy of a personas you are, many times you thought about leaving and heading back to the hotel, but Kayla was right. You needed to stop being scared of your own shadow and live out of your comfort zone.

It was around 11:30 when a lot of commotion was happening near the entrance of the club, and that could only mean one thing.

Jack was finally here.

You quickly opened instagram to shoot him a message letting him know where you were and simply waited until he made his rounds as he was speaking to different people and also got into the DJ booth with Ace. When he finally glanced down at his phone, your guess was that he was reading your message and he quickly looked to his left and spotted you. A small grin came across his face as he slid his phone back into his pocket and made his way over to you.

“Have fun, I’m going to get another drink.” Kayla said as she saw Jack headed over towards you and quickly got up to make her way towards the bar before you could protest.

Once Jack had finally reached you, he leaned down to embrace you into a hug and he lightly pulled you into him, making you stand all the way up before leaning down and whispering in your ear.

“For a minute there, I thought you weren’t going to respond to me.”

“Hmm, I admit I was hesitant, but I figured why not? You obviously wanted to find me for a reason, so here I am.”

“When I see something I want, I’m persistent until I get it.” Jack replied as he played with the ends of your hair and you just knew for a fact that you were about to faint right then and there.

“And after all of that yesterday, I forgot to ask what your name was.”

“It’s Y/N.” You responded while laughing, having not even noticed that you never told him your name.

“Well, Y/N, you ready to get out of here?”

“On one condition.”

“And what’s that pretty girl?”

“A private show.”

“Hmm, of my songs or were you thinking about something else?” He asked as he leaned down to whisper in your ear once more, but this time kissed the shell of it.

“I’ll take both if you’re up for it.”

“It took me all damn day to find you, so I’m definitely up for it.”

#jack harlow #jack harlow fic #jack harlow fanfic #jack harlow fanfiction #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow x black reader #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow fluff #jackman thomas harlow

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carlsangel · 4 months ago

Text

friendly spirit (g.i.t.w, ch.1)

carl grimes x fem!reader

warning: mentions of death.

masterlist here!

other chapters here!

Carl never lost hope. Even after the prison, terminus and the church. He knew there was something for the group out there. He was probably the most hopeful out of everyone. He always wanted to keep going, he motivated everyone. It’s definitely something he’d gotten from his dad. Alexandria was exactly what he’d hoped for. At least from what he’d heard from Aaron.

Staying in a barn that smelt like horse shit was something he’d unfortunately considered before Aaron had arrived. That morning, seeing Aaron arrive through the barn doors almost made him smile. Between arguing with his dad that Alexandria was a good fit for the group and trying to back Michonne up on the same argument, he didn’t get much sleep. The entire car ride there, Rick had a plan.

He would discuss it with them over and over, going over every possibility. That’s why, when he and the others got out of the vehicles and he saw you, he thought he was imagining it. He saw you, a girl who’d climbed a tree from what it seemed like. Eugene walked past him and when the large black mullet was out of his face, you were gone. Maybe you were apart of Alexandria.

He heard children laughing and people talking. He knew this was the right place. For him, and for Judith. He sort of knew that he was the reason they needed a settlement at all. Maybe the rest of them would’ve given up at this point. Maggie had lost Beth, Sasha lost Tyreese, Daryl lost Merle ages ago…but they still stuck around. He thinks it’s because they had a sliver of hope. Hope because him and Judith are still alive.

Seeing the houses in the community sort of healed parts of his childhood. They weren’t the wealthiest of families, he imagined living in houses as big as Alexandria’s for years. He has memories, almost faded of the three of them driving through the neighborhood where all the wealthy people lived, imagining themselves there in the future. Once Rick retired of course.

It felt somewhat ironic to him, the fact that the only chance they were ever given to live in a nice and luxurious house was when the world was on its last legs. He thought a lot. Maybe too much, even in that moment where Aaron was explaining how one of the houses was better than the other, he thought about you. He wondered if you were just his imagination, or maybe you were a threat. He didn’t want to alarm anyone. But he was curious.

He returned to the conversation to hear something about curb appeal. Aaron was about to leave, he’d motioned for the both of them to check the house out but Carl stayed back. He had to talk to Aaron, to make sure he wasn’t insanely tired and you actually did exist.

“Wait— Aaron. Before you go, I just…I saw something earlier. Well someone. I was just wondering if she was apart of the community.” He explained, He described your attributes, the color of your skin and the length of your hair and what you were wearing. He felt like you were too dirty to live here however. “Oh her? Don’t worry, she just lives in the outskirts of Alexandria.” Aaron replies. Carl’s eyebrows knot together in confusion. “And you didn’t tell us? What if she’s a threat?”

Aaron sort of chuckles and it catches Carl off guard. “We call her the ghost in the woods. We’ve had people to go out and look for her…whenever they spot her she disappears quite quick but…we can’t quite seem to catch her.” He explains. Carl still didn’t understand. “She’s not a threat, I promise. Think of her as uhh… a friendly spirit.”

He thinks about that for a moment, Aaron puts his hand on Carl’s shoulder, giving him a content smile before patting it and turning away. He stewed on the idea of you, he seriously doesn’t understand. Why wouldn’t you want to join Alexandria, and why would you choose to live around it? He wanted to see you again. To meet you. He didn’t believe you were some…fairy tale. He needed to see you.

And he did. Right as Aaron walked away, in the distance he could spot you once again in a tree, just watching him. “Aaron?” He calls out, looking over to him for his attention. Once he gets it, he turns to point you out but you’re not there. Shit, now he looks stupid. “I just want to say thank you.” He says this as a cover up, but it was still mostly the truth. “Of course.” Aaron nods.

He finally tears his eyes away from the tree and catches up with his dad. He knew he had to see you, to meet you. That’d be his mission the next couple of days.

─── ⋆⋅ ꒰ა 𐚁 ໒꒱ ⋅⋆ ───

Meanwhile you’d just descended the tree. You’d walk off your small campsite which was almost never permanent. The woods surrounding Alexandria was large. Perfect for you. You hated being confined to just one area. Especially because you hate to be attached to things.

The first rule to the apocalypse is to not get attached. You found that out the hard way. Many times. Your first home, your dad, your sister. You lost everything. All you had was their belongings. Your sister’s bracelet, your dad’s bag, and his rifle. You were in fact attached to their belongings but you knew if they weren’t in your possession, you were most likely dead.

You never intended on interacting with the people of Alexandria, you just liked the security of being outside the walls. You had precaution without technically having it. If it came down to it, you knew where to go. Not to mention sometimes the civilians would leave food for you. At first it felt dehumanizing, like they were leaving food out on the porch for a fucking raccoon.

But it was fine. You were perfectly fine on your own. Sometimes it got lonely..but you’d just occupy your time listening to music with a walkman your dad gifted you before the start or reading books you found in old cabin remains and such. You’d even watch over Alexandria. Except recently things have been especially frustrating. The rifle’s been getting jammed and the batteries in your walkman have been dying quicker than usual. You’d stop listening until you really needed it. You were yearning for something new. Anything.

But soon, a new and large group would arrive. You’d watch over Alexandria often, you knew almost everyone but not one on one. You liked the reputation you upheld there. It was like knowing everyone without having to really know them. No chance to get attached. You now had a new group of personalities to dissect. At least, all the way from the trees surrounding the walls.

You took note of all of them. More importantly, the one who noticed you first.

Carl.

i hope you liked itttt there’s more coming!

tag list: @zomb-1-egutzz @lunarnightt @ilikestrawberriesandwomen @hiro--aoki @h00d-tr4sh @callsignwidow @lilyglasergrimes @smollbean42905 @deadgirlwalkingx @txrasbae @lalaloopsie12309 @crusadecherryblossom @violetashfall @zombiigrll @amanita-raine

#carl grimes #twd #the walking dead #carl grimes twd #carl grimes fanfiction #carl grimes x reader #carl grimes fluff #carl grimes x fem!reader #carl grimes x y/n #carl grimes the walking dead #the walking dead carl #carl grimes smut #twd carl #twd fanfiction #ghost in the woods

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amphitriteswife · 3 months ago

Text

Queen

Jaegyeon na x reader

Standing on the central station of Incheon, you were busy reading the latest news. You were going to take the next train to Seoul which was in half an hour. Tapping your foot against the ground impatiently, you were reading the news article about Jichang kwak who ‘suddenly’ passed away. Scrolling through the article almost the 3rd time in the past few minuted you scanned the words. Nothing made sense at all. Jichang wasn’t a weak man, nor was he a careless man. So why would someone target him when he wasn’t even the king of Seoul anymore but of Chuncheong? A place that many did not care for at all? Thinking about it was terrifying. Not only did they know a lot about jichang as a gang member, but they were strong enough to kill him.

The harsh and loud scraping of the train gliding against the rails ringing in your ears, the sound of many people talking all felt a little overwhelming at the moment. But what was there to do? It was strange. Everything seemed out of place. Jichang was a honorable man even if you didn’t often cross paths. He was respectful and did care more for his family than for the greed of taking over the territory of the other kings of the 1st generation. It was just so heartbreaking for a man who was finally making a turn for his life. Even if he was a gang member. He was still a man who cared a lot for his brother. Hell he even cared a lot for the other kings such as Seongji.

‘I thought we agreed you wouldn’t show your face in this place again?’ A man with a blonde dyed mullet and black roots asked you. He wore rather fashionable clothing and a chain around his neck. He looked like a kpop idol…you almost mistook him for DG but with another style..not that you’d say it out loud.

The man waved in front of your face. Seemingly to get you to pay attention. ‘Hellooo i asked you something Y/N’ the man said seeming a little irritated that you didn’t answer his question. Strange. He knew your name. Yet you didn’t know him, not at the top of your head. ‘Who are you?’ You asked him back a little puzzled. The man seemed absolutely floored at your question, almost offended even. His face switched with irritation, from narrowed eyes and a scowl to dropping open his jaw and having wide eyes. ‘It’s me! The king of Incheon!’ The man said pointing to his own face. ‘How could you ever forget my handsome face?’ He asked you back, offended at your lack of recognition for him. ‘….James?…’ you said slowly and hesitantly, recalling the events to meeting a red haired youngster you met a few years ago.

The man stopped moving, completely stunned by the name you just called him. He looked almost deeply hurt and on the verge of crying by which name you just called him before his face distorted in pure rage ‘JAEGYEON! JAEGYEON NA DAMMIT! HOW DARE YOU EVEN COMPARE ME TO THAT FUCKER!’ He said all in one go, catching his breath after followed by his composure. He ran a hand through his bangs and looked at you again all cocky and arrogant. ‘So..what is the former Queen of Incheon doing here? Trying to get back your title?’ He asked you in an almost mocking tone.

Realization dawned over you which made you laugh because of how you totally forgot him, and because of how much he changed. Physically then, mentally he was still the same. ‘Well, even if i was the former queen, i left that life style behind a long time ago. Why did you think you won anyway?’ Jaegyeon stiffened a little. Are you implying that you let him win? How humiliating…But he decided to play it off for now. ‘So..what are you doing here?’ He asked you a little hesitant but mixed with curiosity. ‘I’m going to Seoul, taking the train. Why?’ You asked him back. A little suspicious by the questioning which made him scoff. ‘I could drop you off myself. No need to take the train.’ Jaegyeon offered, sounding more cocky than kind. ‘No way, i’d rather take the train than be seen in that junk of yours.’ That seemed to piss him off as his face scrunched up in anger before he started insulting you, spewing all kinds of nonsense and walking away to his junk car. Muttering a soft ‘stupid girl’ under his breath, secretly hoping you’d hear him.

It was weird, since you two were around the same age. But then again, it’s not like you’d care if he said something like that to you. You just waved back and stepped into the train that had arrived in the mean time, leaving Jaegyeon alone with the weird interaction he just had with you. He couldn’t help but wonder when he’ll see you again and confess. If he’ll even have the balls to do so.

Thank you all for reading! 🙏

#lookism #lookism webtoon #jaegyeon na #jaegyeon na x reader #lookism x reader #lookism manhwa #coems🤑🤑#for the jaegyeon na fans cause man is underrated #lookism fic #amphitriteswife writes #webtoon #ptj universe #❤️❤️💛💛

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runraerun · 9 days ago

Note

Heard a random 90s rock song & it legit got me thinking about Steve & Billy meeting again in their twenties... Like what if s3 never happened? After the fight at the Byers, Billy kept his head down & avoided Steve? I see him as being consumed by a sense of guilt/shame & yet still not being able to apologise until, that is, the day of their graduation when he's suddenly overcome with a need to just get it off his chest. He's been crushing on this guy since he got to Hawkins & he blew whatever chance he had of even just a friendship with him, but it doesn't matter now cos he's getting out of this shithole as quickly as possible, but he can't have this guilt gnawing at him any longer...So maybe he deliberately makes sure he bumps into steve at some point and mutters out a: "Harrington. We need to talk." And sucking on a cigarette like his life depends on it, hands shaking, barely making eye contact, Billy gives the world's shittiest apology. And it feels like his heart's gonna beat out of his chest & Steve's just standing there, staring at him, an unreadable expression on his face, before saying something like: "yeah, man. I'm sorry for that night too." (In my mind either Max let drop something about Billy's homelife or Steve has deduced something's not right). Anyway. Billy finally feels like he's able to breathe again for the first time in months UNTIL steve unknowingly utters the world's most devastating sentence: "I think we could've been friends if, y'know, shit hadn't gone down the way it did...oh well." And steve gives a sort of little grin and a laugh as if what he said wasn't a major deal. "Heard you're headed back to California?" Steve asks, and Billy's barely able to nod, still struck dumb by Steve's previous offhand comment. And maybe someone calls Steve's name and suddenly that's it. The moment is broken & Steve's leaving with a "Guess I'll see you around, Hargrove... or not" and a goofy little salute. And Billy thought he'd feel better. But in fact he feels worse. Because holy shit. Steve just said they could have been friends. And that's gonna haunt him for years....

Cue a few years later and they run into each other in Chicago (listen, the idea of Billy returning to California only to realise it no longer feels like home and maybe it never did consumes me), but yeah. They bump into each other accidentally and holy shit. Steve Harrington. He looks almost exactly the same. Other than the fact he's grown out the mullet and holy shit, are those highlights in his hair??? And billy's stunned by what looks like a genuine grin of delight that crosses Steve's face once he recognises who he's walked into. And maybe they chat for a little while; Billy doesn't even know what he's saying he's so in shock at meeting his highschool crush again. But just like the last time someone calls steve's name and of course steve has a girlfriend, of course he does (joke's on billy, cos it's just robin) and suddenly the moment's broken again and steve's walking away with a casual "it was good to see you again, billy" and billy is gripped with the thought that he can't let steve slip through his fingers again. how many people get a second chance like this? he can feel his old highschool crush flickering back to life where it's buried deep in his chest and maybe steve will never like billy like that but holy shit. billy still remembers the day steve said that maybe they could have been friends if things had been different and things are different now so why not take a chance??? and billy has never felt so brave or so fucking scared in his life as he does when he steps forward and calls after steve: "Hey Harrington! Wanna meet up and catch up properly some time?" and Steve's attention is back on him and goddamn. Billy didn't even realise how much he missed those eyes until now. ANyway!! This got away from me!! But 90s Harringrove pls and thank. Also the song i heard was lightning crashes by live. like the lyrics aren't even that appropriate but there's such a nostalgic feel to it.

oh my god. OH MY GOD.

Anon, this whole message has got me in a chokehold. Like, it’s such a direct hit. 🎯🎯🎯Billy choking on an apology because he’s so painfully unfamiliar with the very concept, the absolute devastation of hearing the potential of being friends with Steve was there, but he blew it, the PINING… urgh. How Steve can unknowingly fatally wound Billy just like that.

AND THEN THE HIGHLIGHTS ARE YOU JOKING?!

I hope that things get away from you many many more times, because this was incredible.

Okay okay. Now, if I may, I will now attempt to match your freak.

ahem

—

By some serendipitous fuckin’ miracle, Steve agrees to exchange digits with him. They couldn’t find a napkin or any other god forsaken scrap of paper to write on, so they just scribbled their numbers down onto each other's arm. Billy was so fucking on edge that when he was peering down at the pale expanse of Steve’s mole-speckled forearm he damn near forgot his own phone number. Jesus, he’s a wreck…

At least whenever it comes to Harrington, anyway. Dude has like, Billy’s own personal strain of kryptonite woven in through his DNA or some shit. It would explain why his hands always get clammy and his knees feel like they’re made of fucking jello every time Steve flashed those pearly whites his way.

Christ, Hargrove, get it together…

Billy had spent the rest of the week running a finger along the wobbly looking numbers, fading more and more every day. Before they fade completely through, he finally finds his balls and dials Steve’s number.

A girl picks up, which… well, Billy knows Steve has a girlfriend. He didn’t know they’re living together though… but whatever, it don’t change shit.

“Steve around?” He asks, clenching the receiver in his fist so tightly that he can hear the plastic creak.

“Who’s asking?” The girl says, sounding pleasant despite her words. Sandy-haired, freckles. Cute, Billy remembers. Harrington always did go for the cute ones.

“Billy,” he answers, “Billy Hargrove. He’ll know who I am.”

“Oh, Billy,” The girl’s voice draws out his name like it’s an answer to a question that she’d been stuck on. “It’s about time you called.”

Which. That…

What the hell does that mean?

While Billy’s puzzling it out, she hears the girl holler for Steve, telling him Billy is on the line. His name is said with a weird amount of familiarity.

Billy switches ears and shakes out the stiffness in his hand. Focuses on breathing evenly instead of the steady flow of questions suddenly piling up in his head.

“Billy?” Steve’s voice, clear as a bell, asks from the other line.

Billy clears his throat, “hey, man.”

“Hey. I was just about to call you.” Steve says, doing that thing where he so casually drops bombs onto Billy’s world, leveling his cities with a passing word.

“Beat you to it.” Billy grins, and hears the little huff of a laugh on the other line.

“Always so competitive,” Steve teases, and Billy can just hear the smile. It makes his chest ache. It’s the sweet kind of ache, though. “Haven’t you ever heard it’s not winning that matters, it’s taking part?”

Billy shakes his head even though Steve can’t see him and sneers, “sounds like some shit losers say to each other.”

That gets a genuine laugh from Steve, all breathy and sharp, and Billy feels himself laughing along from the sheer thrill of getting Steve going.

“Jesus, I forgot how much of an asshole you are.” Steve sighs, but there’s no heat behind it. Just shit talk. It’s fine. What guys do.

“Yeah yeah. Can’t change my spots, or whatever.” Billy mumbles as he scuffs his boot along the floor. Fucking antsy. Jonesing for a cigarette. Just get on with it you piece of shit. He takes a breath and then takes the plunge. “So listen, we should hang out this weekend. I know a few good bars where we could catch up. Maybe get into some trouble.”

Steve makes a scoffing sound, “what kind of trouble are we talking here, Hargrove?”

His heart jackrabbits in his chest. He loves this part. Billy brings the receiver just a little closer to his lips. “The fun kind, Harrington.” He murmurs, voice pitched low.

There’s a brief, unbearably tense couple of seconds where Steve doesn’t speak. He just lets Billy dangle like a hooked fish. Static from the line. He doesn’t breathe. Then.

“Friday at 8?” Steve tosses the offer out, real casual-like. And with it, Billy feels the muscles around his neck and shoulders relax, like he got shot with a tranquilizer dart. Steve continues, “You wanna meet at the same coffee shop from before? I live in the apartment building just across the street from it.”

Fancy, Billy thinks. Of fuckin’ course. All the buildings on that block are the high end kind; with door men and balconies and working elevators. Billy only ever finds himself in that leg of the city when a pipe bursts or a sink gets clogged and Billy gets called in to fix it. Of course Steve’s living in the lap of luxury here in Chicago. Mommy and Daddy’s only child. Not that it’s his fault, Billy supposed. Some people are just born luckier than others.

“Sure, rich boy,” Billy grins, “bring your appetite though, I’m buying nachos.”

Steve heartily agrees. Because obviously. Who the hell could say no to that? Rich or poor, nachos are nachos.

It ain’t a date. It ain’t. It’s just two guys hanging out, y’know, catching up. For old times sake. Getting into some trouble, like Billy said. It ain’t date.

So what if he calls and asks Heather to pre-approve his outfit when everything he owns suddenly looks stupid on him? And who cares that he dabs double the amount of cologne onto his chest and triple down his pants—Billy likes to smell good, it ain’t a big deal. He wears a silver chain around his neck, the one that matches his earring, and undoes a few more buttons than usual to show it off. It’s cold this time of year but he figures they’ll be inside for most of the night anyway. Drinking, shooting pool, tossing darts. Shit like that.

Billy chain smokes as he waits outside of the coffee shop, sucking back one cigarette after the other, trying not to think about how he’s about to see Steve fucking Harrington again; the one who got away. Or, one one Billy never even fucking had a chance with in the first place, more like. He keeps wondering if he’s making a mistake. If he should just go home, forget he ever ran into that long legged, poofy haired, Bambi-eyed—

But then Steve’s there, handing Billy some froo-froo drink from inside (somehow they’d missed each other???) before he starts giving Billy a hard time for still not having a proper winter coat. Steve’s got highlights in his hair and eyeliner on his lower lashline and a spot of foam from his drink on the tip of his nose and Jesus fuck.

Billy’s in trouble.

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mymegrokosmos · 12 days ago

Text

a little soft bf minghao brainrot bc i felt like it. super era shoulder injury hao.

you set your bags down on the counter, dropping your keys by the front door and going to put your things away. by the time you've shrugged out of your jacket, hung it up in the front closet and put your purse in its usual spot on the credenza table in the hallway you're ready to melt into the sofa but there's still more to do before you can relax.

when you get to the kitchen, halfway through tying your hair up out of your face, you find yourself smiling. the familiar sight of your boyfriend's back, clad in his usual leisure attire of grey sleeveless top that leaves just a hint of his shoulders visible, peeks out of the fridge. he's already started putting the groceries away before anything gets too warm. just when you think your fondness for him can’t melt your heart any more than it already has he leans back to look at you from around the door and his soft smile has your heart in shambles.

if it’s possible to become one with the floor you're doing it. you've become a puddle. his shaggy mullet is in disarray, fluffy from where he's run his hands through it, and his face is bare. his usually sharp eyes are framed by big round glasses, softening his gaze as he closes the fridge in favour of coming over to press a kiss to your forehead.

"hi darling, welcome home. how was your day?"

you'd think after all this time you'd be used to how tall he was but it was still always a bit of a surprise just how much he towered over you up close. you sighed, letting him pull you into a hug and sliding your arms around his slim waist.

"hi. it was okay, very long."

he chuckles and you close your eyes, head resting against his chest. you're careful to lay it against the side of his good shoulder, nuzzling against the soft cotton of his shirt as his hand comes up to rest against the back of your head.

"i'm glad to finally be home. what did you get up to today handsome?"

the hand on your waist squeezes lightly and he holds you close for a minute before stepping back with another kiss to the top of your head.

"physio this morning again and then practice, even though I can't do a lot of the choreo yet they still need me for blocking when I can make it. mingyu came by earlier and dropped off some hotpot. why don't you go get into something more comfortable and we can talk about it over dinner?"

sometimes there was nothing better than coming home to everything already being taken care of. you know he misses being at work but being home more means minghao needs things to do. his physiotherapist also says that getting some movement in is good for his progress, so he's been taking care of household chores and spending a lot more time meditating lately to keep himself busy.

the members have been helping when they can. mingyu comes by or gets your boyfriend out of the house at least three times a week now. jun's often over in his free time to run lines with hao or catch up on the latest cdrama you're watching together. you think joshua has even dragged him out to a pottery class or two in their spare time. it's been good for him and the rest is doing him good, even if it makes him a little bit restless sometimes.

you nod. "i'll be right back. do you need me to help with anything?"

"no, just relax and leave the day at the office jagiya."

easier said than done but minghao always made you feel less guilty about sticking by work life balance and keeping them mostly separate. it's also been fun spending more time cooking together, he's good in the kitchen just a little impatient and you're enjoying getting to try out some of his mother's recipes. she's often on video call when you get home, minghao pouting about something while she scolds him playfully or they catch up on their weeks with each other. it's sweet and you love that their relationship only seems to get stronger as time goes on.

"you're still coming to the company dinner next week with me, right?"

another soft smile as he nods. "I'll be there darling. I didn't pick us out matching outfits just to not show up. now stop worrying and go change. you're hovering again."

you are, just a little bit. it's a habit you're still trying to work your way out of. you were a little traumatized when you got the call that hao was in the hospital at first and, though you both know he's fine and capable now, the instinct to make sure he's okay still lingers a little bit.

you sigh and make a face at him. "okay, okay. I'm going."

he just chuckles as you head towards your shared bedroom. makeup and weight of the day finally removed it's time to slip into one of hao's oversized tshirts and the matching cotton pyjama pants he bought for you last christmas. it feels like a cozy day so you take the time to find your slippers too before shuffling back towards the kitchen.

you find minghao stirring a pot of what seems to be mingyu's latest attempt at comfort food and slip your arms around his waist from behind, face pressed lightly against his warm back.

"smells good."

he hums in agreement, hand patting yours where it rests on his stomach. "I think he made enough to feed about seven more people than we currently have in the apartment."

you laugh and lean around him to peek at the food over his arm. "gyu probably plans to use it as an excuse to come over for lunch tomorrow or something. oh no guess you need someone else to help you eat it all."

that makes your boyfriend scoff. "why would he do that when he can just say he wants to come over? he knows where we live."

you kiss his bicep and move to get down some bowls for you both. "because he's kim mingyu and you're you myungho."

your boyfriend stops to look at you, blinking as he pauses his stirring. "I'm still not seeing your point love."

"you know how you don't like when people get too presumptuous about you?" you smile softly. "I wouldn't say he's intimidated because gyu knows you love him but... sometimes he's a little insecure and sometimes you can be a little cold."

he considers this. "he's never let that stop him before."

you smile and let him guide you, one hand on your hip as you slide between him and the pot on the stove to fill your bowls.

"and he won't, I don't think, because at the end of the day he knows that it isn't that you don't like his affection you just don't always know what to do with it and it needs time to process. but I think, and maybe this is just my take, he sometimes worries a little about intruding too much. especially now that you have a relationship outside of just your family and the members and your other friends."

it's quiet for a minute as he takes that in. you dish up hot pot for both of you and take the bowls over to your small dining table. minghao slowly follows behind, face impassive. you'd worry that you upset him but you know that expression. it's not anger or annoyance, he's just lost in thought. you take his hand, press a kiss to the back of it, and watch as he blinks back into the present.

"think about it all you need but let's eat first. like I said, maybe I'm just reading too much into it. maybe he has other reasons. we can finish that new drama and call him later if you want."

your boyfriend nods and joins you at the table, filling you in on his day. you can tell he's only half present but that's okay. by the time you finish and wash up he seems to have come to a decision.

"love?"

"yes myungho?"

he scrunches his nose. "try again please darling."

you laugh but the arms he crosses over his chest tell you he's serious. you smile softly, leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek.

"yes, seo myungho great love of my life and most wondrous of boyfriends?"

he snorts. "closer but still not correct."

"baobei?"

he blinks. "close enough."

you laugh and brush a hand over his cheek, melting a little when he leans into the touch and takes your hand in his.

"you know I'm only teasing you, right?"

he nods. "I do."

you lace your fingers and press a kiss to the back of his hand. "what did you want to say honey?"

"do you mind if mingyu comes over tomorrow? I know it's your day off."

"babe, this is your apartment too."

minghao sighs. you know that look. the exasperated 'are you being serious right now?' stare. you smile.

"no, I don't mind if gyu comes over. just maybe warn me beforehand so I can make sure I have pants and a bra on this time."

that makes him smile, just a little, even as he rolls his eyes at you.

"come help me with my skincare?"

"only if you let me use the good stuff."

"mm we can even wear those matching headbands you like."

"lead the way love."

sometimes all you need after a long day is xu minghao ready with a hot meal, a long hug and a silly fuzzy frog headband keeping the bangs out of his face as he applies 6 layers of different creams to your face.

#seventeen #boyfriend #svt #seventeen fluff #svt drabbles #svt fluff #xu minghao #seo myungho #minghao #hao #minghao x reader #minghao x you #seventeen x reader #bf seventeen #seventeen drabbles #seventeen blurbs

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hvseung · 16 days ago

Text

favourite (l.hs)

pairings: dealer!heeseung x f!reader

genre: smut

warnings: explicit smut, profanity, nipple play, fingering (?), unprotected sex🥸, minors DNI !

wc: 2.0k

🎵now playing: high for this by the weeknd

✦　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　. ✦　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　. ✦　.　　. 　 ˚

heeseung: “yo, im outside.”

The quick bzzt pulled your mind out of your study-filled daze. He was here. You quickly throw on your slippers and a jacket, not having the energy nor time to change out of your pyjamas, before locking your front door and making your way to his car.

Heeseung parked right outside your apartment complex. Usually, he wouldn’t make late night house calls, especially when the call was at 12am, but for you; he would do it without a second thought.

He would watch from his rear-view mirror as you drew near to the sleek car, so he leans over to the passenger side and rolls the window down. You eye’d his attire as you approach; tight black tee, cargo pants and his deep red hair styled in his iconic mullet.

“Hey, pretty.”

“What did I tell you about calling me that?”

“Can’t I compliment my favourite customer?” he teases, a cheeky grin across his face as he glances you up and down. “What ya need?”

“Just the usual.” You stuff your hands in your pockets, shielding your blushing knuckles from the biting air. He hums.

“Get in whilst I sort it, you're freezing.” He leans over once again, this time to unlock the passenger door - an invitation.

“Heeseung, its late.”

“And it’s cold.” He had a point. “Come on, we can smoke together.” He adds, his voice softer as he pats the empty seat.

Heeseungs grin grows ever so slightly as you open the car door and slide yourself inside. He watches your every move – even down to the small shiver that accompanies your adjustment to the sudden change in temperature. “Better?”

You nod.

He reaches into his centre console and pulls out a pre-rolled joint and a lighter. “Good. Can’t have a pretty girl like you catching a cold, can we?”

He began lighting the joint between his lips. He enjoyed your company, he always did. That’s why you’re his favourite… and the only person he was willing to drive this late to see. He takes a drag, leaning back and exhaling the thick smoke. He passes the joint to you after a moment, his eyes ever leaving yours as you take it with a soft smile.

His eyes flicker downwards, watching intently as your lips rap around the end of the joint. The only light in the car comes from outside, the dim streetlamps illuminating your face perfectly. Heeseung would never admit it, but it was one of his favourite sights. He couldn’t explain it, but it was oddly alluring.

He takes the spent joint from your fingers, throwing the butt out the window. He sees the way you’ve relaxed, your shoulder no longer tense and your eye half-lidded. His senses were dulled, and in moments like this theres only ever one thing on his mind:

You.

Without saying a word, Heeseungs hand makes it way to your thigh. Ht trails his thumb along the exposed flesh just under the hem of your shorts. “You’re pretty.”

You sigh. You hate when he does this; flirts with you. And you hate that you like it even more. “What did I tell you? Just because we kissed one time does not mean you can shamelessly flirt with me all he time. It wont work.”

“You kissed me.” He corrected with an all-knowing smirk, this thumb running over your thigh again.

“Wha- I did not!”

“Are you forgetting? Because I remember it clearly.” He chuckles, remembering how you had shown up to his apartment, drunkly stumbling on your words and the way your hands held his shirt as your lips moved against his. He leaned in slightly, his hand slowly trailing up closer to your waist. “Don’t act all though, I know you like me.”

You scoff loudly. “Oh please-“ but deep down you panicked a little. Were you really that obvious?

“Pretty girls like you don’t kiss people they don’t like,” His tone was almost sarcastic, unable to resist the urge to tease you just a little more. “but yet you kissed me.”

“Drunk thoughts are sober thoughts.”

Oh, you had been blatantly obvious. You mentally curse yourself, your prayers of him forgetting that night having been futile. “Fine, I like you.”

“There you go. Wasn’t so hard, was it?” His smile grew into a proud smirk, the one you tried your absolute hardest to hide the fact you loved. He seems awfully pleased with the outcome, having already known for quite some time. But he wanted to hear it from your mouth. “You like me. I like you. Now what pretty girl?” ──────────────────────

He has you practically pinned underneath him as you splay across the backseat, his lips moving against yours. His hands wander your body as one of his knees moves to spread your legs slightly, slotting it between. He has never been so eager to kiss someone before, to feel the way their lips met his. He moves your chin slightly, allowing him to kiss you better. His other hand wraps around your back, pulling you flush against him.

As he began to pull away, his thumb trails over your bottom lip. “I was wondering when I would be able to get you like this.”

Heeseung leant down, kissing the corner of your lips before trailing kisses across your jawline. His teeth sink into the skin where your neck meets your jaw. You moaned softly as he began sucking on the flesh, his mouth curling upwards into a smile. His lips travel across my neck before pulling away. He slides his hands under the hem of your pyjama top – his hands warm against your skin. He lifts the fabric over your head, revealing your bare chest.

He bites his lip before ducking his head, his mouth attaching with your perky nipple. Your back arches slightly at the sudden contact, his lips and teeth working against his sensitive bud.

His tongue flattens as he swirls it around in circular motions, looking up at you. A sly smirk tugs at the corner of his lips, the feeling of you against him enough for the tent in his pants. His free hand lifts to play with your other breast, tugging and rolling your nipple.

You whine loudly as he harshly sucks your boob into his mouth, your thighs twitching as you feel your first orgasm approaching. You really were pathetic. “S-Seung ah-“

Just the way you moaned his name had his hooked. All that could be heard now was Heeseungs wet mouth and your heavy breathing. “Already, baby?” A muffled moan slips from his still occupied mouth. “I haven't even properly touched you yet…”

You whine as his fingers slips into your shorts, pushing them down. He felt how wet you already were, all just from a bit of nipple play. “Look at me.”

Your gaze meets his, bottom lip smug between your teeth. His fingers slowly start rubbing against the damp fabric, your eyebrows furrowing slightly. “God, if I knew you'd be like this, I would have done this sooner.”

“Mmm cumming.”

“Yeah, be good for me.”

He groans softly as his fingers suddenly get wet when you cum. He loves seeing every aspect of you as you do; the way you moaned, your eyes lidded and your pretty mouth mumbling his name. He would give anything just to see you like that again. He soon pulls his fingers away, lifting them to his mouth and sucking the glistening digits.

“Get up.” He murmurs as he sits down on the middle seat. As soon your sat up, he tugs you onto his lap, immediately smashing his lips against yours again He groans into your mouth, his lips pressing against yours over and over again as his hands trailed up and down your back. His lifts his hips, the prominent bulge in his pants nudging against your clit.

“Your so hard…”

“I've been hard ever since you stepped in the car.” His hips buck up just slightly as he tried to gain some sort of friction. You couldn't help but instinctively pushing your hips downwards to meet his movement.

“Do you want me to just take you right here?" He whispered into your ear.

You nod. “Please.”

He quickly shoves his pants and boxers down in one swift motion, too impatient to hold back for any longer. He groaned, lifting his hips even more so you could feel how hard he was for you. “I want you to ride me… show me how much you want me.”

Sinking down on him was an immediate reaction, your teeth clamped against your lip. He groaned, his head falling backwards against the seat and his hands gripping you tighter as you moved on him. You were warm and tight around him, causing his head to spin.

“Come on baby.” He whines, his hand pushing his hips on yours, begging for movement. Your head tips back as he thrusts up into you, taking a moment to slip his arms under you. He sits you up a little, pulling you closer and crashing his lips against yours. He kisses you hard, his tongue slipping inside to find yours, licking into your mouth as he tasted and savoured you.

You moan against his lips, pushing down on his hips to meet his thrusts. You kiss him in a hungry manner, cupping his neck. He groaned into your mouth, his body aching to feel your touch. He met your movements, rolling his hips under you with each thrust. Its as if his hands had a mind of their own as they grasp your hair, tilting your head backwards so that he could kiss you ever deeper.

“Baby-“ He whimpers when you speed up, your ass smacking against his bent legs. It was honestly crude, but you were both too far in to back out now.

“Fuck Seung don't stop!” You cry, holding onto the car roof to push yourself down on him even harder.

“Oh f-fuck!” He was getting louder too, his mouth moving to kiss your neck, sucking in the skin right on your pulse point. Your walls clamp down on him. “Are you close baby?”

“So close!”

“You know what I’m thinking?” He murmurs in your ear, his breath sending a delicious shiver down your spine.

“What?” You squeak

“I'm thinking how pretty you'll look taking me somewhere where I can stretch you out properly without this seatbelt in the way" He bites his lip as he holds you close to him, leaving a trail of soft love bites on your skin.

As soon as he says that the coil in your stomach snaps. “Oh my god!”

You cry out loudly as a sudden burst of liquid soaks Heeseungs thighs and drips down to his carseat. The feeling only makes his restraint snap, waves of pleasure crashing down on him with a brick. He gasps, his head falling back as he moans.

He held you close as he fills you up, his chest heaving against yours as he tried to catch his breath and come down from his high.

“God…” He pants, his hands trailing down your back as he gently soothed the skin of your waist. His lips find yours again, his kiss slow and sensual, taking his time to fully enjoy your mouth.

"My pretty baby..." He whispers against your lips, his hands slowly caressing up and down your body and enjoying how soft your skin was to his touch. His breath shudders as he slowly grinds against you, easing both of your intense highs. His kisses becoming less sloppy and more passionate as his tongue caressed yours. He still couldn't keep his hands off you, his fingers trailing down so caress your hips, his tongue slowing down in your mouth. He traces the shape of your face with his thumb before reluctantly pulling away.

“I was hoping you’ll let me take you out for a date.”

That was sudden.

“Really?” You tilt your head.

“Mhm. Would you? Let me take you on a real date?” He tilts his head too in the opposite direction, subconsciously mimicking you.

“Yeah… definitely.”

──────────────────────

@ hvseung, 2024. do not repost or reuse in anyway. thankyou :)

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huhmiya · 2 months ago

Text

MULLET | nick sturniolo

pairing: bsf!nick x f!reader

summary: nick needed a haircut but he was impatient and decided to cut it himself, though when you noticed, you offered to help, even though you weren't a professional hairdresser.

warning: fluff (??), stress, use of y/n

a/n: not my photos, on pinterest. no joke but this happened to me before, my friend cut his hair so I had to give him a buzz cut because there was no saving it

WORDS: 1.0k

huhmiya on wattpad

you - pink | nick- purple

Not long ago, Nick called you in a panic, his voice filled with distress. He said he looked like a failed science experiment, making it difficult for you to understand what he was saying.

Despite thinking he might be overreacting, you agreed to help to whatever he was asking. However, upon arriving, you were still confused about what was going on.

Nick greeted you at the door with his hood up, avoiding eye contact. His demeanour only added to your bewilderment.

As you followed him upstairs to the lounge, he finally confided in you. "Y/n, I've made a massive mistake," Nick admitted as you took off your shoes.

"What have you done?" you asked, meeting his troubled gaze.

With his brothers in their room, unaware of your presence, Nick led you to the bathroom and locked the door so they couldn't come in.

Upon seeing hair scattered around the sink, you raised an eyebrow, studying the mess before turning your attention to Nick.

He pulled back his hood, revealing the haircut he had given himself, which was absolutely terrible. "Oh, shit," you whispered to yourself.

He shot you a glare and ran his hand through his hair, but some pieces of hair he had cut were still stuck in his hair and ended up on his hand.

"Nick... how did this even happen?" you whispered as he let out a frustrated sigh and replied, not too loudly.

"The hairstylist wasn't available for two weeks. I couldn't walk around looking like I had a bird's nest on my head for that long," he said, his eyes on you as he wiped away a tear of frustration.

You gazed at his hair, fighting the urge to laugh. It wasn't the right moment for that.

"Why don't you wash your hair to get rid of the cut pieces and then I can help you fix it properly?" you suggested quietly, making sure he could hear you.

He glares at you for a moment before grabbing the shower head, as you both stand in the bathroom.

You were cleaning hair from the sink, flushing it down the toilet, while Nick leaned over the bathtub to wash his hair.

"You know, you look like such an idiot with your haircutting skills," you tease, a slight smirk playing on your lips. In response, he sprays water at you, then back at his own hair.

Your eyes widen as the lukewarm water soaks into your clothes, feeling colder than expected. He chuckles slightly at his own antics before continuing to wash his hair.

There is a moment of silence as you sit on the counter, and he stands, annoyed at the sight of his hair falling out with the water.

After he finishes, he dries his hair with a towel, clearly frustrated with himself.

He looks at you and says, "I might as well shave my fucking head like I used to, I don't think we can fix this shit haircut." He gestures towards his hair in exasperation.

Even though his hair was wet, you were contemplating how to fix it, but he had already trimmed the sides and snipped randomly around the top of his head.

"Let me give it a shot first, maybe you can pull off a mullet?" you suggest, not fully confident in your skills as a hairstylist, but willing to give it a go.

"You can't even cut a straight line on paper, let alone my hair," he quips, causing you to roll your eyes. "I bet I can do a better job than you," you counter.

He gives you a defiant look and gestures with his hand before handing you the scissors.

You sit on the counter while he stands next to you, leaning in slightly so you can reach his hair more easily.

As you examine his hair, you try to stifle a laugh at how messy it is, especially with it being wet, which only seems to make it worse.

You begin cutting his hair, unsure of where to start, but determined to make some progress despite the initial mess.

"I'm going to record a YouTube video with a bald look. What should I say about it? Oh, I'm back as Eleven?" he says with attitude as you continue cutting his hair into a mullet.

"Nick, maybe trust me on this?" you say, making him stay silent, still annoyed by his actions.

You stay quiet while drying his hair, then grab the shaver and continue working on the sides, piquing his curiosity and prompting him to ask what you're trying to achieve.

"The only real option is a mullet," you say, causing him to raise an eyebrow. "Are you kidding me?" he mutters.

You hum in agreement and turn him around so he's facing you as you continue. "I don't know if I should thank you or not," he says quietly.

You just smile at him before resuming the cutting. Eventually, you finish his hair, and he looks in the mirror.

It definitely looks better than before, but you're not a professional hairstylist, so while your cutting skills are good, you're just unsure about styling it.

He simply smiled and gave you a small hug before tousling your hair a bit to style it into a mullet.

"You did resemble a failed science experiment earlier," you jest, causing him to glance at you in the mirror before playfully tapping the back of your head, though not forcefully.

"I might just trim your hair while you're sleeping and see who ends up looking like the failed science experiment with my haircutting skills," he teases with a smirk.

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stelly38 · 2 months ago

Text

“I can’t remember how much bonking I did” —Aidan Turner

With Ross Poldark behind him, the star of Di5ney’s adaptation of Jilly Cooper’s Rivals talks ’80s excess, intimacy coaches and beef brisket.

Here I am, avidly watching the first few episodes of Rivals, the sizzling new Disney+ treatment of Dame Jilly Cooper’s raunchy blockbuster, before my interview with dreamboat-y Aidan Turner, when my 22-year-old daughter walks into the room. “What the actual?” she cries, open-mouthed in horror. “Oh my God! What are they doing?”

I chide her prudishness. “Well, if you must know, Rupert Campbell-Black and a woman he probably just met have reached a shuddering climax on Concorde,” I explain. “Your generation didn’t invent sex, you know, darling – the Mile High Club has been around for…” but it turns out that’s not what’s triggered her.

“These people are SMOKING! On. A. Plane. Who even does that?” Everybody, that’s who. Welcome to the sassy, sexy 1980s, Missy. Double-breasted suits and taffeta skirts, booze, bonking, endless ciggies and hairstyles so fugly (the mullet, for pity’s sake?) as to have recently crept back into fashion. It’s all there: rampant sexism, social climbing and conspicuous consumption, to a banging soundtrack of Eurythmics, Hall & Oates, Haircut 100 and the rest – no idea how The Birdie Song got in there though. Did people really...? Yes, we did. Now run along. From the moment the opening credits roll on Rivals, it’s fair to say we are immersed in a very different, instantly recognisable universe.

I lapped up every transgressive minute. Why, dear readers, the last time I enjoyed a pleasure quite so guilty was when Aidan Turner took off his shirt in… “I’m not here to talk about Poldark,” says Turner very politely, with a fabulously winning white smile, when we meet. So we don’t. At least for a bit. We are here, after all, to discuss his new role in this very different literary classic – and no, ladies, he’s not been cast as the libidinous blaggard Campbell-Black. As if. County Dublin-born Turner, 41, was a shoo-in for dashing Declan O’Hara, the saturnine Irish journalist turned reluctant chat-show host who finds himself at the epicentre of a battle royale in the cut-throat world of independent television. David Tennant plays Corinium TV boss Lord Baddingham, and Alex Hassell’s Rupert Campbell-Black has ascended to the lofty heights of Tory Minister for Sport.

I could try to explain, but that’s about all the primer you need – rest assured that with this high-budget adaptation, even the most loyal of Cooper’s fans will find themselves safe in its (wandering) hands. “Rivals is about the three things that fascinate all of us: sex, power and money,” says Turner. “That trifecta is especially potent when there’s a clash of status and class. Class informs all sorts of things, including the sex, which is sometimes completely transactional on both sides. From the very top to the very bottom of the ladder, everyone’s slightly on the make.”

Speaking of the top and indeed the bottom, the eight-part series employed not one but two intimacy coaches. “They had a lot of intimacy to coach,” confirms Turner breezily. “I think they really improve sex scenes because they encourage creativity and it all looks so much more authentic. There’s a lot of bonking. I want to say I did a lot of bonking – I can’t quite remember how much.”

Declan is very much the dark-eyed, watchful outsider, his integrity as deep-rooted as his humongous moustache – “artist’s own”, remarks Turner. (He speaks in mellifluous Irish tones and uses his own accent to play Declan.) Amid the jostling for supremacy in the first few episodes, Declan’s only crime appears to be wearing mustard socks on air and having sensuous congress with his own wife (played with exquisite brittleness by Victoria Smurfit).

Such uxoriousness appears borderline scandalous in Dame Jilly’s masterfully constructed world of egos, oneupmanship and serial adultery, which signals that despite being a workaholic, Declan is clearly a good ’un – although, to be fair, I have only seen the first three episodes.

“I hadn’t read Rivals before. It seemed very British so it wasn’t really on my radar, but it’s really fun – although later on it descends into something much murkier. I just read the scripts initially and then was really struck by how faithful they were to the book,” says Turner, who is married to the American Succession actor Caitlin FitzGerald, 41. “You get a real sense of the characters in the first 15 or 20 pages and it’s a mark of excellent writing that you feel you already know these people.”

Whether or not you like them is up to you, but it’s absolutely gripping and Turner’s character is right at the heart of the story. “Rivals is a really truthful depiction of an era that in a great many ways was hugely problematic,” says Turner. “It’s not being refracted through a modern lens and some of it is quite shocking, particularly the way women are treated. There’s also endless back-stabbing; Declan is detached, the one who sees what’s going on, and because he’s not from this class-bound world [he] struggles to understand the playbook – but he’s married to a woman who does and that causes tension.”

To research the role of a broadcasting homme sérieux, Turner trawled YouTube to watch hours of Firing Line, the US current-affairs talk show presented by conservative pundit William F Buckley Jr for 33 years. From 1966 to 1999, he verbally sparred with leading figures of the age.

“I felt it was important to look to older shows, the way they were presented and the communication style,” says Turner. “The interviewee would be given time and space to answer questions in full. These days it’s very different; the nearest we have to that now would be podcasts.”

“Once filming started, to be honest I was channelling my dad the whole time. He’s an electrician, not a journalist, but Declan is very like him – the way he carries himself, the tone of his voice, his passion. He feels very Irish and so does Declan.”

For Alexander Lamb, an executive producer on Rivals, finding the right fit for the pivotal character of Declan was crucial. “The very first person we thought about – the very first person we cast – for Rivals was Aidan. He was the lynchpin because he just felt so right; he’s got depth but also such charm and that was exactly what we wanted. A lot of the cast was built around him.” That cast also includes EastEnder Danny Dyer, Katherine Parkinson, best known for The IT Crowd, Emily Atack of Inbetweeners fame, and Claire Rushbrook, who was in the first series of Sherwood. When it came to Turner, Lamb had been impressed by his previous standout roles as a vampire in the supernatural series Being Human and a clinical psychologist in police procedural The Suspect.

“Aidan hadn’t played sexy-dad-with-teenagers or an intellectual journalist before, so that gave the whole thing a freshness. I think there’s a lot to be gained from getting actors out of their comfort zones,” observes Lamb. “I’ve never really worked with an actor before who was so conscious of his performance. He would come back behind the camera to see if he could improve on what he’d done.” Dame Jilly, adds Lamb, needed no persuasion in casting Turner. “It did not escape her just how good-looking Mr. Aidan Turner was. Let’s just say she became quite the fan.” Turner responds in kind, with unalloyed admiration. “Jilly is so sharp, perceptive and really funny – she’s very kind, but as she was seeing the daily and the weekly rushes I am quite certain that if she hadn’t liked what any of us were doing, she would have told us very swiftly.”

Later, he quietly relates a telling conversation with Cooper at a garden party held at her Gloucestershire gaff (to call it a pile would be too excessive, to call it a house too modest), one summer evening last year, after filming. “I remember a surreal moment when she took me by the arm and led me around the garden, pointing out the place where she would write and how she would look over the valley,” he says. “And then she pointed out the houses where her nearest neighbours and friends lived and said, ‘This is Declan O’Hara’s house, and that one’s Tony’s house,’ and explained how she would visualise the world of Rivals. It was a very special moment.” How magical, I say. He nods very slowly, the corners of his mouth twitching, eyes crinkling at the preciousness of the memory. He’s so unabashedly soulful, I almost have to look away. And so, to business: is Turner really as handsome as they say? Hmm. Maybe that’s what strikes you first but, in truth, it’s the least interesting thing about him.

Born in Clondalkin, a town outside Dublin, before the family moved to a suburb of the city, Turner admits he was never academically inclined. With a low boredom threshold, he struggled to concentrate at school, but when his accountant mother took him along to dance classes, he excelled; he went on to compete in ballroom dancing at national level, but lost momentum.

There was a stint working as an electrician with his father, but it was a job at the local cinema that sparked his interest in acting, entering the Gaiety School of Acting, Ireland’s national theatre school, where he graduated in 2004. After appearing in several theatre productions, including Seán O’Casey’s Easter Rising play The Plough and the Stars, he got his first major television gig in 2008 in the Irish hospital drama The Clinic.

“I was a lowly receptionist and Victoria Smurfit, who is my wife in Rivals, was a consultant,” he smiles. “Let’s just say we didn’t have a huge number of scenes together back then, so it’s great to catch up now.” Soon the BBC beckoned and he was cast as Dante Gabriel Rossetti in the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood drama Desperate Romantics. The six-parter failed to make a mark, but led to a critically acclaimed role in the comedy-drama Being Human, where he caught the eye of director Sir Peter Jackson, who cast Turner as the dwarf Kili in The Hobbit trilogy between 2012 and 2014.

Various other parts followed, culminating in his award-winning portrayal of Captain Ross Poldark in the 2015 revival of the BBC classic, which ran for five series and made him both a household name and a pin-up among ladies (and interviewers) d’un certain age.

After he was shown scything a field shirtless, a sheen of sweat on his ripped – sorry – torso, the Sunday-night concupiscence became so pronounced that media commentators called out the reverse sexism and denounced the reductive way in which Turner was being treated as a piece of prime meat. A decade on, he still seems mildly baffled, but not ungrateful, for the attention, if loath to dwell on it. “There are worse things to be known for than having a nice physique,” he says, philosophically. “But that was a long time ago and I’ve done a lot of fully clothed work since.” Hilariously, in Rivals, Declan finds himself sharing a schedule with a series called Four Men Went To Mow, featuring a quartet of topless hunks – with scythes. Turner almost leaps off the sofa when I bring it up. “I know! I was reading the script and when I saw the Four Men Went To Mow reference, I assumed someone was deliberately winding me up. Then I realised it was actually in the original book, so I took a deep breath and let it go.”

I can confirm he’s fully dressed for our interview, wearing a mustard top by British menswear brand Oliver Spencer, which he dryly describes as ‘drab chic’, Levi’s 501s, and a pair of trainers. He points out they are classic white Reeboks with a natural gum sole. I admit I didn’t know that was A Thing. “To be honest, neither did I,” he shrugs in good-natured agreement. “They were a present from a mate of mine – he’s a musician so far cooler than me, obviously – and he was very emphatic that the soles were a big deal.”

On his wrist is a 1969 Omega Seamaster. “It cost less than £2,000, it was an anniversary gift and the only watch I own,’”he offers, pre-emptively. “Oh, and I’m not sponsored by Omega, none of that.” Would he like to be? I ask mischievously. “Ah well, I’d certainly take the phone call. You always like to have options.” This is all the more interesting because later I ask if there’s any truth in tabloid rumours that he has variously been earmarked as the new Bergerac and the next James Bond. He denies both charges. “But you’d take the calls presumably?” I suggest. A pregnant pause follows. “You know, I don’t think I would. I have to say I think I’d pass on those.” Bergerac I can understand – but intimations of 007 are, like talk of knighthoods, not to be trifled with, much less dismissed out of hand, however cat’s-chance unlikely.

Turner just pulls a slightly apologetic face (possibly for the benefit of his aghast agent reading this). But really it should come as no surprise; Turner has built up a reputation as a protean performer, moving seamlessly between television, film and the stage in a variety of markedly different roles. Last year he appeared opposite Jenna Coleman in a minimalist two-hander, the West End revival of Sam Steiner’s 2015 fringe hit Lemons Lemons Lemons Lemons Lemons, about love and language. Director Josie Rourke says she cast Turner not just because he is ‘brilliant’, but because he has an ability to connect with his character and with the audience.

“Aidan is a very technical and focused actor who really works hard to prepare – in that respect he’s not dissimilar to David Tennant. That might make him sound dour or serious, but he’s very personable and funny,” says Rourke, a former artistic director of the Donmar Warehouse in London. “He’s acutely aware, in a lovely way, of every single person in the room. There’s something fundamentally unselfish about his performances.”

Off stage, Turner leads a quiet life with his family in an 18th-century house in east London, which he famously furnished with the table and chairs from the Poldark set in Cornwall. He looks amused when I wonder aloud if he hangs out – virtually or actually – with the slew of young Irish actors, like Paul Mescal and Barry Keoghan, who have made a name for themselves. “It sounds boring but I work, and then when a project is finished I start reading scripts again,” he says. “I’m not on social media, I don’t get wrapped [up] comparing myself to anyone else. Frankly, it’s hard enough keeping track of my own career. Since the birth of our son, my wife and I have agreed that only one of us will take a job away from home at any given time; we’ve not [had] a clash yet but we’ll have to see what happens when the time comes.”

They did, however, both have plays on in the West End at one point last year; he was appearing in Lemons while she was in The Crucible. “It worked out really well, we headed out in different directions during the day, catching up with friends and getting stuff done, far too busy to see each other,” he recalls. “Each of us did our show then we would meet up afterwards and share a cab home. It was really fun, but that sort of synchronicity is quite rare.” Like a lot of actors, Turner is guarded when it comes to discussing his personal life. Although frenzied interest from the paparazzi has calmed down post-Poldark, every so often pictures do appear in the tabloids – and Rivals will no doubt increase his bankability. It is something he accepts with equanimity.

“If I do get snapped, I don’t make a fuss or get angry, but I try to stay out of the way.” I remind him of a very striking photo of him putting the rubbish out in a frankly extraordinary receptacle. “Ah yes, maybe I should get rid of the fluorescent pink wheelie bin, a bit of an own goal,” he sighs.

I bet he doesn’t. Far too much of a compromise. I do manage to winkle a few details out of him by playing my fellow Irishwoman card and discover that he’s a ‘serious’ pool player – just this week he settled down in front of a recording of Steve Davis and his teammates taking the 2002 Mosconi Cup in Bethnal Green. He plays golf, enjoys music, and is an avowed Nick Cave fan.

“I’d have to say my favourite downtime is having friends round for good banter and food in the garden, weather allowing. I’m trying to perfect the manly art of beef brisket in my [Big] Green Egg barbecue. I think one of the reasons Rivals was such a happy show to work on was because so many of the scenes were us all together at parties. Then at the end of the day we’d kick back and half of us would still be in character.”

And what characters they are, all dressed up in their ’80s finery, jockeying for position, angling for seduction as Tears for Fears belt out ‘Everybody Wants to Rule the World.’ Gen Z won’t understand, much less approve (lock up your 22-year-olds), but as a snapshot of a bygone age, Rivals promises to be TV gold, and at its glittering epicentre, Declan O’Hara, legendary brooding broadcaster with the biggest ’tache in town.

All episodes of Rivals are available on Di5ney+ from 18 October

Interview by Judith Woods from The Telegraph; Photos by John Balsom.

#aidan turner #rivals #declan o'hara #interview #copy pasted #for anyone who's paywalled #The Telegraph 27 September 2024 2:30 PM #Judith Woods #John Balsom

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beforeimdeceased · 1 year ago

Text

…ELECTRIC LADY 📺💋🚬

pairing: 70s!ellie x reader

synopsis: the devil’s back in town and there’s no angel to save you.

author’s note: the lack of these ellie fics was baffling. LIKE THE MULLET IS RIGHT THERE! ib the lovely @ellabsweet

part one. > part two.

⋆˚✿˖°

“why’s she keep showing up?”

“well if you give a dog a bone.”

“oh fuck off i ain’t give her nothing but a good time. she’s the one asking me to leave with her to a different state.”

“road trip? maybe that’ll do you good.”

“you need to get fucked every which way and loose. you’re too uptight, doll.”

was why your feet were currently dangling outside the window of the ever charming girl’s 72 grey oldsmobile, cross hanging just above the dashboard. you bop your body a bit before reaching down to grab a tape she’d left on the passenger seat floor.

“aww man, jimi hendrix.” she nods, tapping her finger on the steering wheel. she’s leant back in the drivers seat, eyes cross with the road. cigarette tucked behind her right ear.

“you know, i don’t know you that well anymore. the city’s changed you.” you open her glove box to find a bottle of brown liquor and a light. “and yet you still agreed to come with me.”

“against my will.” you roll your eyes. it’d been three hours into the trip and you were feigning boredom. all the flavor had gone from your gum, and you weren’t in the mood for a book.

ellie was a country city country girl, cause it all happened in that exact order. a couple years ago she moved to where the buildings were brighter and the possibilities were endless. you’d actually been talking about her the day she came back.

“that’s ellie.” you point to the picture of the smiling girl pinned to the diner wall. “she’s a big star now, too good for us.” you explained to eilaine. she’d just moved into town and you two quickly bonded over music, makeup, and dancing. throw a little gossip in the mix while you’re at it.

you nearly chuck up your milkshake when the chime rings and the aforementioned movie star walks in. hands in her pockets and a smile on her face. she’d cut her hair into a mullet and was dressed like something you’d only seen in a magazine.

“speak of the devil.” you get up to give her a hug.

“and he shall appear.” she hugs back. “hi darling, i’ve missed you.”

a bit of light conversation over some drinks, nuts, and a game of pool that you lost had led you to be huddled up in the hot car with her. how the hell did she convince you to join her in that big city of hers? well it wasn’t all her, your roommates were dying to get you out of there.

“it’s only for a month? let her take you for longer!” dina says mid makeup. she hadn’t even evened out her eyeliner before she started sending you off. and abby was no help. “i can’t protest. i think it’d be good for you, we’ll have that sweet new girl cover your shifts.”

“did you guys plan this behind my back or something?” your eyes follow abby’s body swiftly moving to the closet to pull out a suitcase. “if we did you’d be gone already, now start packing.”

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