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evieelyzabethh · 1 month ago

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"chateu"

⭒is it a dream or is it all in the past, i just thought i'd ask"⭒ Arcane characters and comfort {fem reader}

cast ✧ Vi, Ekko, Jayce, Viktor, Mel

cw☞ slightly pervy jayce, mentions of period sex, a bunch of fluff, that's about it

♞Vi♞

♞Vi's comfort is both physical and verbal. Vi is constantly in awe of you, she can't fathom the idea of you thinking you're less than, too dumb, not pretty enough, not worthy enough. She is also very aware. She's a watcher and a listener. She is very good at getting to the root of the rot, she knows that it's not just this one occurrence, it's a reaction caused by something deeper within you. I feel like Vi is much more emotionally intelligent than a lot of people give her credit for, it's just not knowing how to carry it out.

♞I feel like sometimes, she wouldn't get frustrated, but it would take a bit of a toll on her when you aren't as perceptive as she is. Sometimes it takes a lot of walking through the process to get you to understand what she's telling you. She is more than willing and does praise you until she's blue in the face, but she realizes that sometimes words from an outside source can't fix anything if you don't believe it yourself.

♞This applies to larger problems, but Vi would also be good on occasions if you were simply having a bad day. As someone who's had a bad life, she knows how you feel. You want to be left alone for a bit? She completely understands. You just want a hug? She is there with open arms and immediately chides you the second you try to apologize for getting snot on her jacket.

♞Speaking of which, Vi hugs are one of the most comforting hugs you can ever receive. She's just so warm and big and you are completely surrounded by her as she cradles your head into your chest and hums in your ear. She just has such a calming voice; her presence itself is comforting. I also think she would shed a few tears herself when comforting you. It heals the part of her that couldn't save Powder. She holds a lot of guilt about that, so much so that her comfort to you feels rehearsed, like she's been repeating those reassurances for years.

♞As much as you need comforting, Vi would need her fair share too. She never let go of that big sister/leader persona, she thinks her problems are too small compared to the world around her. She tries to fix her problems with logic to push down her feelings and most definitely is someone who thinks that letting those big feelings out is unproductive. This being said, you don't get a chance to comfort Vi until it becomes too much for even her to handle and she randomly breaks down.

♞Comfort is very foreign to her. The last time she received it consistently and healthily was from Vander and then her life went to shit, and she was thrown in prison for like a decade. Stillwater is not a nurturing environment, Zaun certainly wasn't either, even the comfort she received from Vander was more akin to tough love rather than something softer. She can be soft with you, but she finds it hard to accept it herself. It's a battle for her to just be in your arms and allow you to tell her its ok. She knows it'll be okay because she's gonna fight like hell to make sure it's ok. She hates feeling out of control. She's not used to someone trying to fix things for her; she's not used to someone being there for her.

♞She has a lot of tears to get out. Vi has built high walls of anger, but below that is a chasm of sorrow. When she finally breaks down, it feels like an endless stream of tears until she physically cannot cry anymore and is forced to heave in your arms until she either falls asleep or sits in silence, empty. It's very overwhelming, but she can't deny that when she can catch her breath, she feels brand new.

★Ekko★

★Ekko may not be a doctor, but he's a chef which makes the experience more than bearable. The second he sees your complexion get sickly, your wincing every time you move, and your coughs getting more and more phlegmy, he is immediately freaking out. He's running to get a thermometer, he's rifling through the medicine cabinet for whatever the canon equivalent of NyQuil is, he has a trash can set by the bedside in case you begin to feel nauseous.

★Despite his preparedness, I don't think Ekko is great at being sick or being around the sick. It feels like an utter waste of time, waiting around in the house for the illness to pass. Sickness is one of those issues you can't be active in fighting, the best action is to rest and sweat it out, and he is so antsy. It's a lot better if you're sick, you can't lie to him and try to pretend you're well when you aren't. Even if you try and fight him on it, you don't make it very far. Your achy joints keep you up at night, making you completely exhausted throughout the day. Your headache is so debilitating you have spots in your vision. Your throat is so sore, it physically pains you to argue with him about how you're totally not sick and he's being a complete mother hen.

★No; no matter how hard you protest, you are absolutely bed bound as Ekko works warm soup down your gullet even when you can't stomach it yourself but the rational part of you knows it'll make you feel better. The warm green tea he brings you has some tonic dissolved into it; the medicinal taste covered by a few tablespoons of sugar to avoid the bitter bite. He doesn't even flinch when you cough or sneeze into yet another tissue which is soon to be added to the growing pile in the trash. He only wraps you tighter, so you sweat out your fever faster while softly rubbing your aching shoulders. The thought of getting sick does cross his mind, but he's more preoccupied with his poor girl.

★A surprise to no one, Ekko gets sick right after you do, though he is far less compliant. He knows that you see right through his bullshit excuses. Babe, I don't have a fever, I always run hot. What do you mean I have a bad cough? I've just been clearing my throat. I don't get sick; I have too good of an immune system. I never been sick a day in my life. Even worse, he truly believes it himself. In truth, Ekko isn't someone who gets sick often, it's usually one bad bug every year or so. When he does get sick, it usually lasts a few weeks, the first being very mild and then eventually whittling him down to a bed-bound state.

★His bug only worsens the annoyance he feels when sick, you're almost glad when he loses the energy to argue back when you tell him to lie down. When Ekko's sick, it feels more like date nights than a hospital trip. Ekko can't stand silence or boredom which means a movie is playing for as long as he's bed bound. Aside from his mucous infested coughs, his constant shuddering through multiple layers of blankets, and a bowl of soup instead of popcorn; you could barely tell that this wasn't a movie date.

★If there is one thing Ekko enjoys about being sick, it's being taken care of. After he swallows his pride and that disgusting cough medicine, he can appreciate being doted on. Even though he's sick, he'll use a fake yawn as an excuse to wrap his arm around you and ask do you come 'round here often? His joking attitude is usually a good sign that his weeks in hell have finally passed and the light at the end of the tunnel (post sickness kisses) are finally on the table.

❂Jayce ❂

❂Someone once made a joke that Jayce would be the type to make a post on twitter like "I just found out about how bad period pain is. Can't believe our beautiful women go through that every month. If only I could go through periods for them, so they no longer have to suffer (I'm 6'7 btw)" and, well...yes! On a more serious note, I don't think he'd be the type to be super on top of it. He's too busy to have something like a calendar tracking it, though when the time comes, he's very quick to act. While he may be unprepared, he's not incompetent.

❂As soon as you tell him you started, he switches the light bed sheets to darker ones. All he needs is a list of your needs, your preference on pads or tampons or menstrual cups, if you wear them, what size pad you need, heating pads, pain meds, anything and everything you may need is currently being bought. He also isn't the type to be ashamed to go to the register with it, he truly does not think it's a big deal and is confused at any sort of weird stares he gets.

❂He is also over cautious. The second you look like a little woozy, he's right by your side asking if you need to sit down. He's standing around the bathroom while you shower genuinely scared you might pass out due to the amount of blood loss. I don't think he's squeamish around blood, but I do think he'd constantly worry that it's too much. Like how are you still alive after bleeding that much for like a week straight 12 times a year?! He thinks the female body is a scientific wonder.

❂He's also great when it comes to the emotional component. The second your hormones get out of whack, and you start to think too hard about your bloating or ragged you look or how weak you feel, he's right there with a large warm hand on your tummy telling you that you are being ridiculous. His very scientific brain comes in handy, something about his calming voice telling you exactly what your body is doing sounds enough like a documentary to put you to sleep.

❂If you work in the lab with him, he offers to let you skip work for the week, being completely surprised if you insist on still coming in. He does his best to accommodate you, going the extra mile to pack your lunch and making you sure you eat it, ensuring that you're staying on top of your water, he brings pain killers with him in case your cramps get too bad. You and Viktor roll your eyes a bit at his antics. You try to assure him you've had a period for years at this point and it's really not that big of a deal, but he insists on it anyway. All he knows is that you're in pain and he doesn't like that.

❂Now, pre-apocalypse Jayce does not do period sex. You're already hurting, and he while he read that sex can help with cramps, he also knows you're super sensitive and that stretch is going to hurt even worse. If you asked, he'd oblige, making sure to be extra soft and gentle, only pushing half-way in as he coos and brushes the hot tears from your eyes. Post-apocalypse Jayce is far less careful. I wouldn't say he doesn't care, but he understands the concept of a little bit of pain for a lot of pleasure. He's still sweet, carefully covering your sheets with layers of towels and folding a couple under your hips, but his strokes could convince you he's trying to fuck your period away. You'd be lying if you said you didn't feel better after, though.

☽Viktor☾

☽Viktor is not one to beat around the bush at all; he never even liked the man to begin with. It started with something small, like the lack of effort he put into dates or forgetting your birthday, and ever since then things just snowballed until every offense was break-up worthy to him. He didn't hold the door open? Break up with him. He was a bit too flirty with the waitress when you went out to eat? Break up with him! You caught him talking to his ex? BREAK UP WITH HIM!

☽Before the breakup, he is not soft about it at all. The first few gossip sessions were all fun and games but the more you talked about him, the more his dislike grows until he hates the guy and he's only physically seen him a couple times. He refuses to even be in the same room as the man, he says it's because the mere thought of him literally makes him sick and he's sure seeing his actual face will genuinely kill him.

☽He doesn't know what you see in him, and neither do you after the fact. Hindsight really is 20/20. Viktor truly isn't that great with comfort until he sees how seriously upset you are. You're crying over a tub of ice cream with a rom com playing in the background as you blubber about how all of your relationships fall apart and you just don't know where you went wrong, and he's truly confounded on how you're this upset over a toad.

☽This all being said, he's very supportive. It's a lot of work to swallow his sarcastic remarks and roll his eyes less, but the sincerity of his comfort is very easy. It's not instinctual for him to sit there while you cry in his arms, but the kind words he murmurs, you deserve better than that, you deserve a love greater than you even ask for, you deserve even more than the world, you deserve the better world he wants to create. And he doesn't want to sound smarmy or jealous, like some loser who was waiting in the wings for the breakup even Jayce saw coming from a mile away, but if he cared less about what you thought of him; he'd say you deserve him.

☽He realizes it's much too soon, so he buys you ice cream and tells you that you look pretty even when your mascara is running, and your hair is in a state of disarray, and he genuinely means it. He's most valuable for his honesty, it's why you came to Viktor in the first place. He was always honest about how he felt about your ex, even when he was holding his tongue, his expression said all the words he was too nice to say. So, when he tells you that yes, you're still pretty, he may be holding back.

☽It helps that he's funny and can be a tad impulsive. You want to slash his tires? Only slash 3 so that his insurance doesn't cover it. You wanna burn his clothes? He'll make you a pocket flamethrower just to do so. Even better than being open to violence and destruction, he's great at not getting caught. Though he doesn't believe in lying to you, dishonesty drips from his lips like honey.

☽When the crying and the disappointment fades and you feel good enough to joke about how you wasted too much of your time on a man outrunning wisdom, Viktor does slowly try to show you exactly what you deserve.

☼Mel☼

☼While Mel knows the importance of the exterior, she thinks its utterly ridiculous that you can think you aren't pretty enough. She knows insecurities are hard. 'The grass is greener on the other side' really isn't the comfort most people think it is. Sometimes it's well worth it to face the consequences of achieving what you've wanted. Whatever it is, acne, being flat chested, noticeable scars, being different is just hard. It doesn't matter how much your differences make you unique, it really is easier to be like everyone else.

☼She tells you every chance she gets how beautiful she thinks you are. To pretend that inside beauty is all that matters is simply a lie, she interacts daily with people whose heads are full of air, but people only respect them because they are a pretty face with full pockets. She knows it sounds untrue to you, but that's why she tells you so often. Not in despite of anything, not because of anything, you're just stunning.

☼Since you're already hyper-focused on your insecurity, I think she'd ignore it. Honestly, she doesn't think of it at all. It's about as noticeable to her as the color of your eyes or how tall you are, it's a miniscule detail that doesn't define you, it's just another feature. It's nothing important to her, and she wishes it didn't bother you.

☼While you are all adults, she knows that some lack the decorum necessary to not make their judgements known and it bothers her deeply. Anytime anyone speaks on it, she rolls her eyes. She thoroughly thinks it's beneath you to be bothered by it. Not only is it low-hanging fruit, but it's a sign of deficient intellect. They couldn't insult your intelligence, your competence, or anything about you that actually mattered, they had to go for your appearance, and she will tell them as such. She is very good at her professional insults.

☼As much as she compliments you, she emphasizes your other traits. If you're a writer, an artist, a dancer, any skill you have that you built for years or any talent you were just born with, she dedicates a lot of time to participating and validating it at any chance she gets. She wants you to take pride in something else, something that no one can take from you. Looks fade throughout the years, everyone is eventually going to be cast aside as their hairs grey and their teeth start to fall out. Knowledge never grows obsolete. Besides, people with legitimate interests and hobbies are too busy doing things they enjoy ruminating on how they look.

☼She knows it isn't what you want to hear, but it is what you need to hear sometimes. You are perfect just the way you are. She has never had any desire or want to change you. She has never imagined you any other way than the way you are. She doesn't want anyone who looks different than you, she doesn't want you because of the way you look. Of course, she thinks you're beautiful, but that doesn't matter to her. Never has and it never will. Just as she has faith that you aren't with her for how she looks, she hopes you have faith that you looks are not a determining factor for why she's with you. You are just you and she wouldn't want you any other way.

#arcane #arcane x reader #arcane fanfic #arcane x you #viktor arcane #viktor x reader #arcane headcanon #jayce arcane #jayce x reader #vi arcane #vi x reader #mel arcane #mel x reader #ekko arcane #ekko x reader

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beta-therapy · 5 months ago

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Why can't betas just "act more alpha?"

We have all seen what it’s like when a woman interacts with a man who she wants. The man brings forth dominance and confidence, which pairs with the woman’s submissiveness and desire like yin and yang. You can easily tell that the two are destined to have sex (which can be thought of as the physical manifestation of these emotions).

A lot of men might witness that and think “Wow, I want a woman to look at me the same way she was looking at him,” then decide to go out and approach a woman in exactly the same way. He would try to carry that same bold, dominant energy he saw earlier.

But instead of responding with submission and desire, the opposite happens. The woman steps back and delivers harsh criticism, like “I don’t give out my number to strangers, so stop acting like you’re entitled to it.”

The attempt at being charming, confident, and forward (traits that make a woman go head over heels for a man) ended up backfiring when a beta tried them, and it made the woman repulsed. Why? Because it’s not possible to “learn” confidence.

Imagine if all the things that women find irresistible about the men they sleep with could simply be learned and implemented by anyone. Imagine if there was a blueprint that anyone could follow on how to seduce women, and the only thing separating alphas and betas is that the alphas followed the blueprint.

Then we would all just follow the blueprint and have a ton of sex! There would no longer be this disparity where sex is abundant for some men and extremely scarce for the rest.

But that disparity—caused by the tendency of females to all flock to a minority of males for sexual reproduction—has been a fundamental characteristic of our species for millions of years. There’s no blueprint that allows one to cheat human nature. A beta cannot put himself into the category of men that women desire by simply mimicking alpha behavior.

You can try to, but you’ll see that any woman will immediately know what you’re doing. Your body language will be slightly off. The expression on your face will be slightly off. The words you’re saying will seem canned and rehearsed. A woman will notice your fake charisma right away, and she will not be one bit attracted to it. Instead of fantasizing about you, she will be figuring out how to end the conversation.

Some men have the ability to bring out the dangerous, adventurous, desirous, and hedonistic spirit in women, thus creating that yin and yang polarity mentioned in the beginning. Most men don’t have that power, and actually have a hard time getting women to have sex with him, if he can at all.

Some naïve advice might be “bro, you just need to flirt more and touch her physically to build sexual tension.” Yeah, good luck with that, especially with a woman who’s just not having it at all. That’s a good way to get her to smack you in face and call the police on you.

Indeed, if you try to tamper with the fabric of Nature, it always will snap back and hit you in the face sooner or later.

Now we see that the question posed in the beginning is answered by a basic law of human nature:

It is not possible for any man to simply “learn” the things that make women sexually aroused, for if these traits could be faked, women would not find them attractive because they would no longer say anything positive about a man’s suitability for genetic propagation.

And to clarify, women don’t consciously think about any of this. But their interest in sexual partners is an unconscious process, and the natural law just put forth is a very strong, useful explanation of this unconscious process in the female mind.

The correctness of the law is obvious. Think about every one of the things women go for: confidence, charisma, money, status, sexual history, social dominance, blah blah blah... None of them can be easily faked, and in particular, faking them all at once is damn near impossible. Each of these things say something deep and substantial about you as a man. They each are like games with winners and losers, and the key point is that a loser can’t fake being a winner. That’s exactly why women find these things so attractive.

#beta boi #beta virgin #beta bitch #beta captions #virgin humiliation #pathetic loser #loser humiliation #virgin loser

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crguang · 8 months ago

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wasted with longing

You and Kafka have a simple, superficial relationship that benefits you both. You should have known that nothing is ever simple when she’s involved.

friends with benefits, smut, afab!reader, gp!kafka, vaginal penetration, blowjob, dom!kafka, 4.5k words

A/N: fuckboy kafka is real and we should all be running… towards her🤣 this will be a series! i’ll fine tune it when i wake up but this is for my very excited anons and mutuals <3

part two

this is the collective playlist, i’m still adding songs as i go: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4fNHJsbeJLC49Fa8ACVOwW?si=pgaCSUzVTgmXZ8OuQJWLKA&pi=u-9uwba0QiQlWH

You push open the door to your apartment with a tired sigh and step inside. Freeing your feet from the new boots you bought days before feels heavenly, you’re still breaking them in and the process is almost torturous, often leaving you sore by the evening. You put on the slippers you discarded that morning as you shrug off your jacket, placing it back into the tiny closet near the front door. The lights are off but you don’t bother turning them on, instead, you make a beeline for your bedroom and flick that switch on. It’s late, around 11 PM, and you’re itching for a shower before collapsing into bed after spending the afternoon on your feet. You open the window a crack to let the breeze in, seeing as the summer nights tend to leave you sweating. You discard some of your clothing on the way to the bathroom, holding onto them to throw them in the laundry basket next to the sink. Standing in your underwear, you turn on the shower and adjust its settings to room temperature before removing your clothes. You’re grateful for the peaceful moment when you step into the shower, simply letting the water hit your face and soak your body.

Today was particularly challenging; your boss was a jerk your whole shift, more demanding than usual, and you’d promised some friends that you would go out with them after work even though you just wanted to be home by then. Forcing yourself to socialize is mentally taxing and often leaves you with a headache at the end of the night, too. Under the refreshing water, you feel the knots of your muscles loosen slowly as if smoothed out by warm, gentle hands. Your head tilts towards the shower head. For a few minutes, you wash away the weight of the day, focusing on the pitter-patter in your ears deafening you to all but your thoughts. An impulsive one passes by, meant to be fleeting but it solidifies in your head until you can’t help but entertain the idea.

You wonder what Kafka is doing, if she’d come running if you called the way she often does once the sun sets. She’s been busy lately, you think; you haven’t heard from her in around two weeks and you’ve been too preoccupied with work to bother checking on her. You don’t know what she does for a living, only that your palms brush against new cuts across her skin every once in a while. The acknowledgment of their presence goes unsaid like many other things, locked in a messy closet to which you both hold the key yet refuse to organize. Still, she’s skilled in the ways of your body and works you out like no one else can, so you ignore a lot about her to prioritize how relaxed you feel after a couple of hours with her. Some parts of you, your heart and fingertips, twitch to understand her absences and inconsistencies. You try not to dwell on that confusing desire for too long lest you come to a conclusion you don’t like. Kafka’s enigmatic, she’s mysterious and rehearsed as to always keep the upper hand in whatever war she’s implicated in like the world is an open minefield and she can’t afford a single misstep. Every semblance of genuine conversation about her turns into a game she has to win and you’re getting tired of playing along. However… you have to admit that you could use the distraction tonight.

The thought doesn’t leave you as you finish washing yourself and step out of the shower with a clean towel around your frame. You look for your phone once in the bedroom, picking it up from where it was discarded on your dresser, then sit at the edge of your bed. It takes a bit of scrolling through your recent conversations to find Kafka’s contact. You refrain yourself from rolling your eyes at the last texts you’ve exchanged. She can’t be relied on for your impromptu needs and you wish the opposite was true as well, but you’ve learned to make yourself available whenever she seeks you out. It’s pathetic, you tell yourself, even as your thumbs hover over the screen’s keyboard. You recline on the mattress with a sigh and hold your phone above you, wondering if you should do this. It’s late, and though that’s usually when you see each other, Kafka has the habit of not replying until hours later. It’s irritating, especially when you scroll up to her last messages and notice how quickly you always answer them. You toss your phone on the bed and cover your face with your hands. You swallow a scream.

“Embarrassing, embarrassing,” you mutter to yourself, “no dignity at all.”

As you question your life choices and consider blocking Kafka’s number to make yourself feel more in control than you are, your phone buzzes with a notification. You turn on your stomach to pick it up, tapping open the screen.

You stare at the most recent text for almost a full minute before closing the device and sitting up straight. The coincidence of her messaging you while you’re debating whether you should text her first leaves you reeling for a moment. You hesitate, fiddling with the phone in your hands. You want to leave her waiting like she often does to you, but… Excitement creeps up your spine at the thought of seeing her. This is what you wanted, isn’t it? Why not take what you need from her and send her on her way? This is what she’s good for, it’s how she regards you as well, so you give in to your impulses and craft the perfect text. Kafka’s reply comes almost instantly.

You can’t deny the flutter in your gut but you sure as hell can ignore it.

You make sure to be ready before Kafka comes knocking at your door. You lather yourself with your favourite lotion before pulling a tank top over your head and putting on pyjama shorts. You clean up around your apartment even if she never lingers long enough to get a good look at it, picking up dirty laundry and clearing the dishes. You don’t see the minutes tick by as you do your best to seem presentable. You check your teeth in the bathroom mirror, decide to brush them because you don’t have any mint, then tap your cheeks a couple of times, tilting your chin this way and that. You’re looking at your nails, wondering if you should clip them since they’re getting a bit long, when the doorbell rings.

You take measured steps towards the front door so as not to look too eager and shake your head at your antics. You turn the handle, revealing Kafka’s nonchalant expression on the other side of the door. She smiles at the sight of you, clad in her usual tight clothes and custom-made coat, and you have to suppress one from betraying your thoughts as you take her in. She does the same to you, gaze appreciatively raking over your figure before she even greets you. She still has makeup on, hiding the fatigue you know rests under her eyes, and she’s holding on to her pair of gloves instead of wearing them. You think she probably wrapped up whatever it is that she does and came to your apartment right afterwards.

You open the door wider and step to the side so she can come in. “You look tired.”

Kafka walks in and closes the door behind her with a foot. Her smile widens a touch, a self-assured edge to it. Her head tilts— you watch the loose strands of hair follow the movement— and her eyes drop to your chest for a deliberate second then lift to meet yours. “You look beautiful as ever.”

You don’t hide the annoyed roll of your eyes. You turn your back on her to lead her further into the apartment. She follows, slipping off her coat from her shoulders and discarding it on a sofa in the living room.

“You got rid of the painting?”

You look at where she stopped in front of the couch. She points to the far wall with her chin as she lays her gloves on top of her coat. You stand, dumbfounded. You used to have an abstract painting hung on that wall but stored it to install a TV instead. You’re mostly surprised she noticed; her lips are usually on yours instants after she’s stepped through the door.

“It’s here somewhere,” you gesture vaguely to the room.

“Mm… This coffee table’s different, too.”

“You broke the glass of the other one the last time you were here.”

Something in the way she glances at you, a cocky glint in her eyes, tells you she remembers.

“Right. What was it you said that night— ‘Don’t you dare stop?’”

You know Kafka revels in the flash of irritation that creases the bridge of your nose.

“I don’t remember that.”

“No?”

She makes her way to you, fingertips trailing on the back of the couch and amusement shining through her contacts, dusty pink swallowing the lilac at their edges, reminding you of carefully plucked calla lilies. Her slender fingers cup your jaw to tilt your chin, the nail of her index sliding across your skin, and you meet her stare with practiced ease. You hate how easily the anticipation of her touch heats the embers in your belly and you can’t stand knowing that she’s aware of her effect on you. Kafka brings you closer until all you care to see is the lustful, rosy shades of her irises. Her gaze lowers to the curves of your mouth.

“Need a reminder?” Her murmur is felt on your lips like the warm, inviting breeze wafting through the open windows.

You hook a finger under the waistband of her shorts and tug her forward. “Guess so.”

Her low chuckle is cut off by the kiss you plant on her lips. Kafka indulges your control over her, lets you back her up against the wall and pull her close with a hand around her neck. Her arm snakes around your waist, your body pressed to hers. She tastes sweet, like a sugary drink or a juicy fruit, and your tongue slips into her mouth to taste her fully. She welcomes it readily and allows it to swirl around hers before you feel her fingers curl around your throat. The pace shifts, hungry and hurried, as she effortlessly takes over the kiss, momentarily taking your breath away. You’re forced to follow her lead and exhale through your nose when she doesn’t release you. The hand on the back of her neck travels down her collarbone, pulling on the leather strap of her outfit so it slaps against her once you let go, and the hum that sounds from her throat softens your bones until you’re putty in her hands. Her shirt crumples in your grip while your fingertips tease the buttons of her shorts. Your world is reduced to the soft caress of her tongue in your mouth and the growing bulge beneath your palm.

Her hold on your neck relaxes slightly and you pull away enough to regulate your breathing. You stroke her over her clothes, drawing a sharp intake of breath from her. A pleased smile makes its way onto your face and your eyes blink open to stare at her swollen, peach lips.

“Someone’s happy to see me.”

Kafka traces the hollow of your throat with a rounded nail, smiling amusedly at your teasing tone. “Mmm.”

“Two weeks and a little kiss gets you worked up?”

“Were you counting?”

“Please. You’d love that, wouldn’t you?” You unclasp the buttons of her shorts and pull them down her waist to reveal the band of her pantyhose, toying with it and sighing in faux exasperation. “I suppose I could help.”

“Yeah?”

Kafka stares at you, anticipation in the way her lips unconsciously part, and you retain her lustful gaze as you withdraw from her body to put your hair up using the hair tie on your wrist. You raise a playful eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corner of your mouth, and her eyes narrow a touch at your cockiness. She doesn’t say a word, though, simply watches you lower yourself to your knees with that smile that says she’ll wipe that expression off your face soon enough. You start with her thigh-high boot, zipping it down to get it out of the way, then grip the edges of both her pantyhose and shorts to slide them off the rest of the way at once. Her layers annoy you on nights when your need is greater than your patience, but you enjoy teasing her like this; testing the elasticity of her boxers’ waistband, running the pads of your fingers over the thin fabric and along the thick of her bulge, pressing leisure, open-mouthed kisses on the soft flesh of her inner thighs. Kafka is a patient woman, her hand tangles in your hair but doesn’t pull. Her heavy stare makes you feel powerful despite being the one on your knees, she either doesn’t bother to hide her desire or she can’t— regardless, you’re her only way towards sweet release and she has no choice but to grant your petty wishes.

Your lips trace the outline of her length over her underwear. One hand cups her between her legs while the other kneads her plush thigh. You delight in the little hums Kafka doesn’t care to contain as you pepper kisses on her clothed cock, a thumb gently massaging her balls until you feel her twitch under your lips. Still, she doesn’t tell you to hurry along or pressure you in any way. Knowing that her cool demeanor is an act fuels the satisfaction in your gut. You pull at her boxers and free her hard cock, refraining from biting your lip at the sight of its prominent vein. You follow its pattern with your mouth and use a hand to curl around her base, eyes fluttering shut. You’ve done this so often, licked long stripes up to her tip and stroked her sensitive skin with teasing touches, that the feel of her against you is engraved in your gray matter. Your tongue swirls around her leaking tip to collect her pre-cum before taking her into your mouth. Kafka is so big you have to use your fingers to stroke what can’t fit past your lips. The weight of her cock on your tongue makes you so incredibly wet, you feel arousal trickling down your inner thigh. Her hips buck forward and her hand caresses your hair in a manner so fond you’d mistake her lust for care if you didn’t know any better. You work her up with quiet, muffled moans around her dick and she guides you down her length with one hand, unable to tear her eyes from your pretty face as you suck her off. You take as much of her as you can, feel the head brushing the back of your throat every few thrusts of her hips, and revel in the short, throaty moans spilling from Kafka’s lips.

“Mmhh… How pretty you look with your mouth full,” she manages to tease you in between low gasps, smugness dripping from her words. You give her sensitive tip a particularly harsh suck and bask in the uncontrolled jerk of her hips.

You look up at the crease between her brows and the rapid rise of her chest, her audible pants intoxicating you. With her head tilted to gaze down at you, strands of magenta hang in the air like threads of silk. You squeeze her base once to draw a longer moan from her. The taste of her bypasses your every thought, and you can only focus on her throbbing, wet cock filling your mouth. You stroke her with the same hungry pace, occasionally squeezing your thighs together to appease the heat between your legs. She’s so hard, so needy, you can’t help the indignant whine that escapes you when her fingers grip your hair and pull you away from her dick. A thin string of saliva connects her head to your tongue and breaks with the distance, falling onto your chin.

“Don’t pout, you’ll get your fill,” Kafka smiles despite her heavy breathing, urging you to stand with her hold on your head, “I’ll make sure of it.”

A tinge of irritation surges in your bloodstream at the cocky edge of her tone and the way your pussy aches for her touch. Her nose brushes yours once you’re on your feet, warm breath fanning over your lips. You hate that you want her, that your body responds to her by melting into hers as she steals the air in your lungs with a single heady kiss. You hate the way your thighs part almost immediately to allow her wandering hand better access to your cunt. You hate the amused chuckle that leaves her when she realizes you’re not wearing any underwear and rubs between your slit with a finger. And yet, you only get wetter under her ministrations, brows twisting with the pleasure she’s giving you. Her digit withdraws from your slick pussy, glimmering with your arousal, and Kafka stares at you with lidded eyes as she brings it to her lips to suck it clean. The wet sound of her mouth sends a jolt straight to your core. You need her to fuck you so badly, you can barely think before grasping the leather strap under her collarbones to pull her forward.

Your lips meet in a messy, heated kiss, her salty taste on your tongue and your slick on hers. You stumble down the hallway, losing pieces of clothing along the way, until you reach the bedroom and Kafka firmly pushes you down onto the bed with a hand on your bare chest. Her mouth is locked with yours and you feel her touch on your hips, across your waist, over your ribcage where your heart drums for her. Her thumb applies pressure on your erect nipple, drawing a needy sigh from you. You sneak around her chest to unclasp her bra and she assists you in sliding it off her arms to discard it on the floor. Her cock presses against your thigh while she teases your nipple between two fingers. You know you’re ruining the sheets beneath you but you can’t bring yourself to care; you get more desperate with every minute she’s not buried inside you, unable to contain the quiet whimpers that escape you.

“Kafka…” you breathe out in a whine, aware of how much it turns her on to hear her name out your lips. Her cock throbs on your thigh at the sound.

She plants kisses down your jaw and pinches your nipple a couple of times, the feeling delicious yet not enough. Her hum rumbles through her chest, “Mmm… Pleading already?”

Aeons, she’s infuriating. You wrap a leg around her waist and her length rests on your slit, but you bite the flesh of your cheek to keep in a breathy moan, not wanting to inflate her ego more than it already is. Kafka reaches down to rub her tip between your lower lips, almost groaning as your slick mixes with the saliva from your tongue. Your lungs stutter and you suck in a breath, nails digging into the expanse of her back. Her head grazes your aching clit, you arch further into her to repeat the action. It feels so good you forget all about who you’re dealing with until she speaks up again.

Kafka’s licks a broad stripe up your neck, then her mouth brushes the skin of your jaw on its way to your earlobe, pressing a kiss just below.

“You’re dripping…” Though her voice is close to your eardrums, you barely register the words she utters, lost in the pleasure of your clit sliding against the thick of her cock. “How much do you want this, mm?”

There’s a lick on the cartilage of your ear before she pulls away to look at you through the dull pink of her irises, eyelids heavy. The movement of her dick on your pussy comes to halt and it takes you losing that relieving friction to understand that she expects an answer.

“W-What?”

“Did you miss me this much?”

Your heel digs into her lower back to pull her closer, but her lips simply stretch into a knowing, teasing smile. She presses her tip against your twitching clit once, delighting in the flutter of her eyelashes and the beginnings of a needy moan that you refuse to let her hear.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” you reply, but even you have to admit that your sentence lacks conviction or venom.

“Mm…” Kafka guides the tip of her cock to your gushing entrance and your next inhale gets caught in your throat. “Is it flattery if it’s true?”

“You w— Hah—!”

She pushes the head inside you, feeling you clench instinctively at the intrusion, and lets out a sigh of pleasure as your warm, tight cunt welcomes her cock. She watches a quiver go through your bottom lip and briefly bites her own. One hand digs into the plush of your love handle, the other sinks into the bedsheets next to your head. She slides another inch into you and your fingers tangle in her locks, tugging at the sensation of her length inside you, stretching you so well a breathless gasp spills from your mouth. Her smile is smug, pleased at your silence, and you swallow as you muster the strength to speak. Kafka leans closer, the tip of her nose against your cheek and her breath warming your skin. Slowly, she bottoms out completely and gives you a moment to adjust to the fullness. Something in the way her pants falter occasionally tells you that she needs that pause too. Her lips are on your jaw in a kiss way too soft, too gentle to be from her; her who means nothing to you aside from the pleasure she provides you.

“I missed you.”

You feel a buzzing sensation in your lower belly that has nothing to do with her cock nestled in your cunt. The words are murmured like a confession but you know they aren’t one, Kafka means to provoke you so that she can put you in your place, a game you’ve played since the day you met. You can’t explain why it’s as if your heartstrings are plucked and manipulated like those of an instrument, its melody disorganized and disharmonious. You don’t understand the sudden irritation that mixes with your arousal, sending a shiver down your spine.

You tug at her hair and her head follows the movement backwards, lips parting.

“I hate you,” you manage to utter through gritted teeth, and you’re frustrated to find that there’s no truth in what you’ve said.

Kafka’s growing grin turns mocking. “Aww. But you’re sucking me in…”

To prove her point, she withdraws from you just to thrust back in, her tip hitting that sensitive spot inside you. Her length rubs your walls with every thrust of her hips, rendering you speechless aside from the quiet whimpers that fall from your tongue, and your anger fades away, replaced by the desperate need to come. Your fingers messily swipe at your clit and your nails paint crescent moons on her back from how tightly you’re holding on to her body. Despite her own need, Kafka is determined to pull more lovely sounds from you. Her pace is tantalizingly slow but harsh in the way you prefer as she fills you to the brim. You feel her all around you, her lips on your jaw, the pads of her fingers sinking into your flesh, her cock buried deep inside your fluttering cunt. Her low moans and short groans hit your ears in sinful sounds that only make you wetter. Her breasts are flushed to yours, following the rocking of her hips.

“Fuck, fuck—“ you babble breathily, lost in the pleasure, “more…”

You don’t register Kafka manhandling you with an arm around your waist so that you’re straddling her lap instead, only that the change in position allows her to drive deeper into you. You moan brokenly as she grabs your hips and guides you down onto her cock in one go. Your thighs tremble, aching, and your orgasm is imminent. Kafka groans into your shoulder, bouncing you on her dick, the taut coil in her belly begging to snap. Your slick trickles down her length and your wet pussy swallows her cock, you clench around her like you dread she’ll pull out before you can come. She uses a palm to apply pressure on your lower stomach, feeling the faint outline of her bulge inside you, and the sensation pushes you over the edge. You cream on her cock with a cry. Your head tilts back and Kafka leans away from your shoulder to gaze at your cum drenching her girth. She knows how sensitive you get after an orgasm, can feel you twitch against her with the aftershocks, but she can’t help jerking her hips upwards to fuck your cum back into your pussy. She wants to see her own cum merge with yours until you’re so full of her that you’re gushing.

“Kafka—!” You gasp out, fingers gripping her loose ponytail, “W-Wait…”

She shushes you with an insistent kiss. She’s close, guiding your hips up and down her throbbing cock. With a particularly harsh thrust, that familiar coil in her stomach finally breaks and her cum spills into you in hot, intense spurts against your inner walls. It’s too much for you to handle even as her thrusts stutter, yet a second orgasm builds inside you, quick and desperate; your body moves on its own accord, further stimulating you and drawing a long, drawn out moan out of you. Kafka’s lips are parted and you miss the sheen in her eyes as she stares up at you unashamedly riding her until you come around her dick a second time.

You’re both coming down from your high some time later, your eyes are shut and the pace of your rising chest slows down enough for you to take deep breaths. Kafka is a comforting presence beside you on the bed, and like you do with many things, you ignore the warmth that is born from your chest and spreads across your torso. A welcomed kind of exhaustion creeps up on you, almost pulling you into a dream, but you hear Kafka move next to you so you turn your head to look at her. She’s fixing her hair, putting back locks of magenta into her ponytail. She feels your gaze on her and meets your eyes with a small smile. There’s that twitch of your heart and fingertips again at the sight of the soft glow of her sweaty skin under your bedroom lights.

“You look exhausted,” her tone lacks its usual teasing edge but you’re too tired to notice, “I’ll use the shower and lock behind me with the spare key. You should sleep. I’ll message you tomorrow.”

You don’t say anything to that. You stare at the ceiling as the shower is turned on in the background.

Kafka doesn’t text the next day.

#honkai star rail #hsr kafka #hsr #hsr x reader #kafka x reader #kafka x you #hsr x you #hsr smut #kafka smut #dom!kafka

505 notes · View notes

majoryeager104 · 10 days ago

Text

𝐀𝐎𝐓 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒!

my fave anime/manga omg I’ve been wanting to write for it for a while but I’ve had no idea where to start but then I was like ‘I should probably start the way I start everything else lol HEADCANONS!!’

so here’s some Relationship + Random hc’s of some of my favorite AOT characters! If you want a part two or a specific character added in the next one, lemme know!

Featuring: Eren, Armin, Mikasa, Jean, Levi, Hange, and Erwin

𝐄𝐫𝐞𝐧

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An amazing soldier, but a dumb boyfriend

Like, on the field, fighting, he’s brilliant

its not to say he’d be a terrible boyfriend

im just saying he’d have no idea what to do half the time

like if ur upset he’s just like “um don’t cry 🧍”

*awkwardly pats ur back*

but he’s pretty much clueless otherwise

as you can tell in the series, he’s not good at processing his emotions

and if he thinks he can’t process his OWN emotions, just wait till he tries to process yours

ngl tho it would get to a point where he’s so good at understanding you and how you’re feeling that it’s like ‘stfu Eren you’ve got ur own problems’

like bros so invested in just TRYING that he pushes his own emotions to the side

on a random note

he snores like crazy

if he’s not awake that is bc if he’s awake he’s like being silly at fuckin 1 AM

either talking with Armin, or just yapping

or maybe practicing melee moves in the middle of the floor

or working out

Or snacking

you get the idea

hes also a chocoholic bye-

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𝐌𝐢𝐤𝐚𝐬𝐚

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sweetest shyest pookiest gf ever

shes got so much emotional depth, but she has a hard time expressing it

but when she does

shell tell you the sweetest thing ever

or like give you the most thoughtful compliment you’ve ever recieved in ur life

and then she’ll get shy and run away

not only she’s like ‘omg why did I say that’

buts she’s also like ‘oh god I probably made them uncomfortable was that weird?’

and then u reassure her like ‘nah that was actually the sweetest thing anyone’s ever said to me’

and verbally she’s like ‘oh ok 🙂’

but internally she’s like ‘yay 🙂’

on a random note

when she’s nervous in public cos there’s a lot of people

shell subconsciously hold ur hand

it’s not like she’s like scared, bc u know she’s Mikasa

but big crowds make her anxious and the noise gives her a headache

so most times she just prefers hanging out somewhere quiet

like a boba shop or a library

And I also hc that she’s actually really good at drawing and has this sketchbook that she carries with her and draws in when ur at boba shops

And while you’d think it was full of quick doodles it’s actually all ART. (maybe I should do hc’s on each characters art styles if they have one lmao)

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𝐀𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧

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this Barbie is a sweetie pie bitch

honestly he carries the dates tho

and by that i mean he’s PLANNING THEM ALL MONTHS IN ADVANCE

freakin loid forger ahh

he’s got most of it written down but he’s also still got some date ideas stored in that big head of his

bc he’s an over thinker and an over achiever so he wants to like maximize the experience ig

like a nerd 🤓

(im sorry im bullying him i swear i love him)

so he plans all these dates, and everything is going well until he’s actually on said date with you

bc he rehearsed a few little one liners and flirtations for weeks on end but upon seeing you he immediately forgot them 😅

so he’s a stuttering blushing mess the whole time

freakin cutie

random hcs

he hates spicy food

it literally makes him cry

but he also doesn’t really like sweets much

so he usually resorts to really simple foods or something savory

basic like him (I’m sorry)

I also hc that he’s self conscious about his forehead (same bro)

hence the thick bangs lmao

but yk what big head big think is what I always say

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𝐉𝐞𝐚𝐧

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everyone knows he’s respectful

A true gentleman

but if you recall that scene with Mikasa in the cadet corps

He’d also be super nervous around u

blushing and smiling

(Ohh my god my heart)

he tries so hard to play it cool

but no amount of flirting and smirking can hide the fact that he’s stuttering and blushing like an idiot

and oh god if you flirt back

he’s like actually gonna pass away 🫠

and I am too bc he’s so cute

random hcs

he talks in his sleep

hes a thigh guy

hed walk on the outside of the sidewalk w u unprompted

he’s reaaaally good at impressions

he once did a killer impression of captain levi

and everyone laughed until they spotted Levi a little ways behind him

and then they had to hold back their laughter while Levi yelled at him for it 💀

he once tried to cut his own hair growing up

and it was so bad that his mom ended up shaving his head

He swears he looked handsome w it tho

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𝐋𝐞𝐯𝐢

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omg this man

no one would ever know you two were together

except for Hange, Miche and Erwin bc they sniff out this shit like crazy

but when yall are alone

he holds your hand like all the time

hes super clingy

but won’t admit it

hes laying on top of you with his arms and legs wrapped around you like a koala

and he’s like “you’re so clingy y/n 🙄”

random hcs!

we know he doesn’t sleep

but what’s weirder is when you wake up and he’s just staring at you

”hey”

and scares the shit outta you

like Jean he walks on the outside of the sidewalk unprompted

and he’s also a sidewalk karen

like if someone else is walking by he’s giving them a look like “try and move me bitch”

”you can’t”

My stronk scary boi

And because he’s old as rocks I also hc that he probably knits as a hobby

idk why, but I can absolutely see him knitting scarves and shit for Eren and the others (and u ofc)

like its winter and everyone is training and he’s out here passing out scarves he made 😭

Hanged like ”where’d you get all these scarves Levi?”

and he’s just like “mind your damn business”

and his ears get pink when he’s embarrassed so that kinda answers the question

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𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞

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AHHHHH

as a Hange Kinnie I’m not projecting whatsoever 😌

but they’d totally be clingy

in like the most extroverted way

yapping about you to everyone

till Levi tells them to shut up

They’re out there fighting titans like “you know y/n usually kills titans like this”

and Levi’s like “Y/N IS RIGHT OVER THERE”

Brings u pretty rocks

cant flirt to save their life but it’s the thought that counts 😌😌

random hcs!

asks the most random and way too personal questions

“I’m not gonna dignify that with a response” said a shocked and disgusted Levi

Hange absolutely points out animals they see

like, in the middle of a fight they’re just like “CAPTIAN LEVI Y/N!!”

and you both look over scared bc you think Hange is hurt

and they’re just like “LOOK THERES A SQUIRREL! 🤩”

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

𝐄𝐫𝐰𝐢𝐧

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we know he’s a gentleman

and I see so many ppl making him out like he’s “daddy”

to which I say

Nah

hes ‘father figure’ 😌😌😌

he’d actually be an amazing partner though

buys you flowers on a regular basis

dates might not be as often

hes a busy man you know 😏

but he definitely treats you to a date whenever he can

if you’re self conscious

no you’re not 😶

he’s got the most random, deliberate, sweetest, kick your feet and giggle compliments stored up for you

and he’ll tell you all of them if it makes you feel better about yourself

random hcs

another loud as fuck snorer I fear

but that’s heard on the occasion that he actually sleeps

bros obviously a workaholic so

he also forgets to eat

you and Levi have to remind him

when he’s not on the job and completely focused

hes actually kind of scatterbrained and loses random stuff like “where are my glasses” and they’re on his head 💀

he’s so old istg I love him so much

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maevebabyy · 4 months ago

Text

CHANGE OF PERSPECTIVE

sophia laforteza x fem reader

a/n - first fic whoo!!!! sophia’s a performing arts teacher and reader is a basketball coach. i wrote this half asleep pls 😭😭

wc - 3.7k

the air in dream academy was full of tension as the school year kicked off with principal son announcing the reallocation of the school year’s budget in favour of the basketball team.

ms. sophia laforteza, the young but fiercely dedicated performing arts teacher, was known for her passionate commitment to the arts, having already won quite a few high-school performing arts awards despite her short time teaching at dream academy. so it was understandable why she had gotten frustrated when she first heard about the budget cuts.

while you, the varsity girls basketball coach and one of the phys-ed teachers, were all about winning games and boosting school spirit. you had built up and maintained the team’s impressive win-loss record during your time as head coach – winning state championships two years in a row now, making dream academy a distinguished school when it came to women’s basketball.

the two of you had been at odds for as long as anyone could remember, each believing their program deserved more funding and recognition for their efforts. at least, that’s what you thought it looked like on the outside. daniela, your baby sister, was the only one who you told about your (obvious) crush on the drama teacher.

it was unusual to say the least, sophia usually gave off a very cool and calm demeanour around her students, wanting to set a good example. but right now, sophia was livid. waving her hands around like she usually does when she’s worked up or excited, this time, it was the former. her students could only watch amusedly as they stretched out their muscles.

“this is ridiculous! how can they prioritize a sport over the arts?” she fumed to her students in the theater.

one of her students, lara – a high-school senior and daniela’s best friend, starts giggling at how worked up her performing arts teacher had gotten.

“damn, coach really does get you worked up, doesn’t she?”

a few other students giggle at lara’s observation. this, alongside many others, were one of the many perks of being a young teacher. sophia’s students felt like they were learning from an older sister, rather than a teacher. it made sense though, sophia was only 22 and leading a bunch of high-schoolers into the world of performing arts.

sophia huffed lightly, bringing her hands to her forehead as she rubbed it, “well, yes, lara, how does coach y/n deserve more funding? we killed it last year with our plays!”

lara stops a giggle from escaping, snorting in the process, “it’s not even a whole lot. dani told me they only received a little more to afford those new team backpacks they’ve been whining about. wait, shh though! It’s supposed to be a secret!”

the drama teacher rolls her eyes again, of course you’d spend the extra money on flashy new team backpacks. if it had been her it would have gone towards something more useful like new mic packs, or better props.

“a little goes a long way, lara.” sophia remarks, shaking her head.

another student voices out their opinion, a teasing grin on her face. “coach y/n seriously has a lot of influence on you, teach”

it was the highschool junior, megan, she was both a cheerleader and a part of the school’s performing arts club. a wider teasing grin appears on the redhead’s face, “sooo, enemies to-”

before the junior is able to finish her sentence, sophia quickly cuts her off, clapping her hands together.

“alright! enough stretching, run your lines for rehearsals!” a bright and wide smile on the drama teacher’s face as she purposefully ignores the tease she was about to receive.

meanwhile, you reveled in the news with your team, sharing the good news with your players. your focus solely on the upcoming season.

you gather your team around at the end of practice, your players keeping eye contact with you as you rounded everybody up. making eye contact with your baby sister, you tell her with your weird sibling telepathy not to pull anything funny to ruin the surprise.

“okay girls, that was a great practice! especially you yoonchae. you’re improving quickly” you grin widely, praising the korean girl. “in fact, all of you girls have been working really hard for this upcoming season.”

you gesture for one of your players, manon, the team captain, and the only other person to know about the surprise aside from daniela to come up and stand beside you.

with a wide grin of her own, manon reveals the new team bags you had hidden behind you in a box. “ta-da! coach actually got us those new team bags we’ve been talking about!”

you grin widely as the girls excitedly rushed forward to grab their own bag which donned their school colours and sported their number and last name on the bag. watching them try on the bag for themselves and count out how many pockets the spacious bag had.

“i assume you all like it then?” you chuckle, crossing your arms as you watch your team nod, shouting out their thank you’s.

“let’s have a good season this year, girls.” you grin.

a week had passed since then, and principal son had called in the both of you into his office. you sat across from sophia who was on her phone as you both waited for the principal to finish talking on the phone. the secretary in the middle of the lobby typing away on his computer, completing desk work.

waiting in the lobby with sophia was suffocating– but in a good way. sure, she might’ve sent you some weird questioning looks, but damn she’s pretty. her jet-black straight hair framing her sharp features perfectly, her perfect posture even when sitting down, the way her soft smile immediately warmed up the room when she found something funny on her phone. before you could keep studying her face, your attention is brought away from the drama teacher as you hear principal son’s voice who had just opened his door. “come in.”

walking behind sophia, you take the seat beside her as principal son sat in his office chair behind his desk in front of you two.

“i’ve got a special opportunity for you two.” he grins, eyeing the both of you before continuing. “we want to host a community workshop day for the younger kids in our high school’s area who may potentially end up enrolling in dream academy.”

principal son pauses to gauge our reactions, chuckling to himself as he sees the confused looks. “since you two run our two biggest programs, i want you two to work together on this. it will primarily revolve around the arts and sports, though primarily basketball in terms of sports since we do the best in that one.”

sophia speaks up from the chair beside you, “when exactly does this community day happen?”

“you two will have about a month to prepare.”

both of you immediately shot up your eyebrows in surprise. “a month?” you ask, eyes widened.

“you heard me clearly coach.” son chuckles to himself, “i’ll check in every once in a while.”

just as quickly as you and sophia were in that room, you suddenly find yourself back out in the lobby. you face sophia slowly, “so… a month?”

sophia groans, “don’t start-”

“we kinda have to…”

sophia silently curses, you were right. the two of you desperately needed to start brainstorming soon if she wanted a community day she could be proud of. “fine, swing by the mpr as soon as the bell rings at the end of the day.”

“but-”

“you don’t have basketball practice today do you?” sophia cuts in, leaving no room for argument.

you shake your head no weakly.

“okay, i’ll see you then.”

before you’re able to respond, sophia quickly walks away from you and towards the mpr.

you hear a soft whistle behind you, coming from the secretary. “really got a thing for the feisty ones?”

you flush lightly, stuttering, “it’s not like that, sohey.” you take a moment to regain your composure, “besides, i think… self confident would be the more correct term here.”

eventually, the bell rings exactly at 3:30 and you find yourself already by the mpr doors, hesitating to go in for whatever reason.

“you got this y/n, c’mon, don’t be weird- it’s just a quick meeting, yep, with just the two of you-“

“what’re you doing n/n?”

you let out a quiet yelp as you are surprised by your baby sister who snuck behind you.

“nothing dani…”

daniela quirks an eyebrow, a smirk forming on her lips. “mhm… sure… just waiting by ms sophia’s door right?”

“dani? i don’t like that smirk-“

“you’ll thank me for this later!” in an instant, daniela pushes you into the mpr, giggling.

you stumble into the mpr, almost tripping. as you regain your balance you’re met with sophia’s questioning stare. feeling nervous under it, you feel the need to explain yourself.

clearing your throat, you reply. “didn’t wanna be late is all.”

“mhm. what was that scream outside? it sounded serious.” sophia raises an eyebrow, a small smile threatening to lift up.

“ah….” you’re silent for a moment. “there must’ve been a fight, totally.”

“and, as a phys-ed teacher, shouldn’t you stop them?”

“nah, where’s the character development in that?”

sophia huffs lightly, disgusing her small giggle before returning to that cold demeanor she’s used to keeping around you. “alright, come here, i’ve drafted some ideas for the community day.”

that afterschool evening had gone on for longer than the two of you expected. sophia surprisingly tolerating your presence for more than two hours.

after tweaking and modifying the initial plan sophia came up with, you both finally agreed on something.

“this’ll work.” you grin warmly, unintentionally making eye contact with sophia, who was reciprocating your smile and gaze, but only for a moment before returning back to her stern self around you.

but wow— even if it was just for a moment you could’ve sworn your heart stopped beating momentarily there, the butterflies going berserk in your stomach.

“better not mess this up, y/n” sophia scoffs.

admittedly, sophia was still hesitant to work together with you, but seeing as she had no choice, she accepted.

as the days rolled on, the community workshop day loomed ever closer. the tension between you and sophia had shifted; while you still had your disagreements, there was a sense of camaraderie slowly forming. you were finding common ground in your shared goal of making the event a success, even if you couldn’t quite shake the competitive edge.

one evening, as you helped out during a rehearsal, you caught yourself watching sophia again. she was guiding her students through a scene, her passion shining through every gesture. it was hard not to admire her—her energy, her dedication, the way she inspired those kids to be their best. you couldn’t help but think about how different she was from the cool, collected teacher everyone else saw. here, she was vibrant and alive, and it struck a chord deep within you.

“seriously, n/n,” daniela nudged you, breaking your train of thought. “you’re staring again.”

your little sister had started accompanying you to these rehearsals, wanting to get a ride home from you instead of taking the bus home.

you turned to her, feigning nonchalance. “i’m just observing.”

“observing? right. you’re practically drooling,” she teased, her voice light but full of mischief.

you groaned, brushing off her comments. “i’m not. and could you be quiet about it?”

“oh, please. everyone can see it, dear sister, you’re not subtle. just ask her out already,” dani insisted, a grin plastered across her face.

“not happening,” you shot back, though the thought had crossed your mind more than once. “she’s too focused on her students, and i’m… well, i’m the basketball coach.”

dani rolled her eyes. “you’re both teachers. just because you’re rivals doesn’t mean you can’t also be… whatever else.”

as you tried to come up with a witty retort, the rehearsal wrapped up, and the students began to disperse. sophia caught your eye, giving you a nod of acknowledgment.

“see? she’s looking at you,” your baby sister whispered, elbowing you in the side.

“shut up,” you replied, trying to suppress a smile.

“y/n! can you help me with this?” sophia called, gesturing toward a stack of props.

you obliged, walking over with a bit of hesitance. as you helped her carry them into a storage room and sort through the items, the atmosphere shifted again. “thanks for helping out,” she said, her tone warmer than usual. “it’s been nice having you around.”

“yeah, well, i figured it’d be good to lend a hand,” you replied, trying to keep your voice casual. “we’re in this together after all.”

sophia looked thoughtful for a moment, her gaze piercing yet soft. “i know we have our differences, but i appreciate your effort. i just want to make sure our students get a memorable experience.”

“i get that. i want the same for my team,” you said, hoping your sincerity showed. “maybe we can find ways to highlight both programs.”

a brief silence hung between you, the tension from earlier fading into something more comfortable. “that’s the plan,” she said, a hint of a smile creeping onto her lips. “we’re a team, after all.”

just then, the door swung open, and daniela reentered, eyes gleaming with mischief. “hey, i just had a thought—why don’t we mix things up at the community day? like a mini talent show where the basketball girls have to perform something artsy? we could host it in between the different workshops.”

sophia’s eyes lit up at the idea, while you felt your stomach drop. “what? no way—”

daniela cut you off, grinning. “think about it! a fun way to bridge the gap between your two programs! i know my big sister here would be more than willing to do whatever you want miss sophia!”

sophia seemed intrigued, leaning forward. “it could be a great way to showcase teamwork. and we could have them work together on the performances!”

“absolutely not,” you interjected, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. “i’m not getting on stage.”

“come on, n/n! it would be hilarious! and i’m sure the other girls wouldn't mind” daniela insisted, nudging you playfully.

sophia chuckled softly, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “i think it sounds like a great idea.”

“yeah, well, you’re not the one who has to perform,” you muttered, crossing your arms defensively.

sophia’s laughter echoed through the room, making your heart race. “don’t worry, we can make it fun. besides, it’ll be great for school spirit!”

“fine, but only if i can do a slam dunk in the middle of my performance,” you shot back, joking.

“deal,” sophia replied, smirking.

with the date approaching in less than a week, the two of you began meeting more frequently. it was strange how much time you two spent together, and despite your initial hesitations, sophia found herself looking forward to those moments. each planning session revealed more layers to you—your humor, your dedication, and that rare softness that broke through your brash exterior.

one afternoon, while going over logistics for the event, you couldn’t help but ask, “so what’s your favorite part of teaching?” it felt like a risk to the two, stepping out of the bounds of your usual playful bickering.

sophia paused, her expression thoughtful. “honestly? it’s seeing the kids transform. watching them come out of their shells during a performance or find confidence in themselves. it’s like a light bulb goes off.”

you nodded, impressed. “that’s really cool. i can see how much they look up to you.”

sophia’s cheeks flushed slightly, and she brushed off the compliment. “thanks. but enough about me—what about you? what drives you as a coach?”

you shrugged, feeling a wave of sincerity wash over you. “winning is great, but it’s more about seeing the girls grow, too. watching them realize their potential, support each other, and build a team—that’s what i love the most.”

sophia smiles softly to herself, though it goes unnoticed by you. maybe there as more in common between you two than she thought.

on the eve of the event, you and sophia decided to meet one last time to finalize the schedule and make sure everything was ready for tomorrow. you both settled into the mpr, the tension between you now more comfortable, laced with a sense of friendliness.

“i can’t believe it’s finally happening tomorrow,” you said, looking around the room filled with props and equipment. “feels weird.”

“yeah, i just hope it all goes smoothly,” she replied, biting her lip, her brows furrowing in concern.

“you’ve worked hard. the kids love you, and the performances will be amazing. trust yourself,” you encouraged, your tone sincere.

sophia glanced at you, her expression softening. “thanks, y/n. that means a lot coming from you.”

just then, a loud crash echoed from the back of the mpr as a student accidentally knocked over a stack of props, causing both of you to jump.

“great! just what we need before a big event,” you said, rushing over to help.

as you both started picking up the scattered items, your hands brushed against each other. the moment lingered, and you both froze for a heartbeat before quickly pulling away, a rush of heat spreading across your cheeks.

“uh… sorry,” you muttered, clearing your throat. “guess we’re a bit clumsy tonight.”

“yeah, clumsy,” she echoed, though a soft smile tugged at her lips. “just a lot on our minds.”

you chuckled, relieved at the lightness returning to the moment. “right. what’s our first activity again?”

sophia reached for the clipboard, flipping through the schedule. “we start with some icebreaker games before splitting into workshops. your girls will lead a few drills, and then we’ll have the mini talent show later.”

“can’t wait to see my team actually do this,” you chuckle.

“don’t sell them short. you might be surprised,” she replied, a teasing glint in her eye. “they might just steal the show.”

“or bring it crashing down,” you countered with a laugh.

the day of the community workshop finally arrived, buzzing with excitement and nerves. the gym was transformed into a vibrant hub, with colourful decorations and stations set up for various activities. you could hear the chatter and laughter of kids filling the space, making it hard to believe that just a month ago, you and sophia had been at odds over budget cuts.

as the event kicked off, you looked over at sophia, who was in her element, directing her students with a flair that made you admire her even more. the icebreaker games were a hit, with kids mingling and having fun, but the real challenge loomed ahead—the mini talent show.

the talent show began, and the kids showcased their various talents—singing, dancing, and acting, each performance more impressive than the last. sophia cheered enthusiastically for each act, her passion evident.

when it was finally your team’s turn, you could feel the weight of expectation. you had arranged for a fun skit that would highlight teamwork, incorporating elements of basketball with a comedic twist. you could see the nervousness in your players' eyes as they shuffled onto the makeshift stage, but you also saw the determination flicker behind them.

“okay, girls! remember what we practiced” you chuckle lightheartedly, hoping to boost their spirits.

the skit started off a bit shaky, but as your players found their rhythm, the laughter from the audience built. you caught a glimpse of sophia’s delighted expression, her laughter ringing out above the crowd. it made your heart race—she was enjoying this, and you wanted to keep that smile on her face.

eventually, the night came to a close as parents and their children began filing out of the gym after a successful event. you and sophia found yourselves amidst the remnants of the community workshop. the atmosphere buzzed with the afterglow of laughter and excitement, but now it was just the two of you, surrounded by colourful props and decorations.

“alright, everyone, you can head home! great job today!” you called out, shooing away the last few lingering students. “seriously, don’t worry about the cleanup. we’ve got it covered.”

sophia smiled, watching the students file out, their faces still glowing from the event. once the doors swung shut, a comfortable silence settled over the gym. you glanced over at her, taking in the way she brushed a stray hair behind her ear, a hint of relief in her expression.

“looks like we’re officially on cleanup duty,” you said, picking up a few scattered props.

“yeah, but it was worth it,” she replied, her eyes sparkling with the remnants of excitement. “everyone really had a great time.”

you hear sophia giggle softly, pausing her clean up duties. “you know, i really thought we wouldn’t be able to pull this off. i practically hated your guts a month ago.”

you chuckled lightheartedly in response, “i was a bit nervous at first, too. you were so closed off before this workshop thing.” you pause, picking up a few more props. “I’m glad we moved past it though.”

she rolled her eyes, but there was a soft smile on her lips. “well, i guess you’ve seen a different side of me. and maybe i’ve seen a different side of you too.”

as you both continued cleaning up, the atmosphere shifted. it felt lighter, charged with a new kind of understanding. “so, what do you think we should do next?” you asked, trying to sound casual while your heart raced.

sophia looked thoughtful. “maybe we could plan another event? we could make it a tradition.”

“sounds great,” you agreed, your mind racing with possibilities. then, gathering your courage, you added, “or… we could hang out outside of school. grab a bite to eat together sometime?”

her eyes widened slightly, and you could see the gears turning in her head. “are you asking me out, coach?”

“maybe i am,” you said, stepping a little closer, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness.

a slow smile spread across her face, illuminating her features. “i’d like that. i’ll take you up on that offer, y/n.”

a/n - i got lazy at the end sorry LOL

#katseye x reader #sophia laforteza #sophia laforteza x reader #katseye #maevebabyy #forgive me this was originally supposed to be around 4.5k words LOL

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disneyprincemuke · 1 year ago

Text

is it killing you like it’s killing me?

alternatively: we haven’t spoken in almost a week (prev)

in which she and logan try to navigate the worst part about dating your literal coworker

(series masterlist)

logan sits in his seat, leaning forward to prop himself up on his elbow as he tries to type away on his phone in the least awkward way possible. he hears the heels clicking against the gravel first before he catches a whiff of a familiar floral scent.

he doesn't turn his head directly, just shifts his eyes to his side, watching his literal girlfriend walk right past him without even stopping by to greet him. he can almost make out the sound of her sweet voice amidst the noise around him, her shocking choice for a dark motif outfit contrasting against the pure white of the person next to her.

only then he realises that his girlfriend is quite literally walking around the paddocks with mercedes personnel. she engages in casual conversation with susie wolff every once in a while around the paddocks, but never has he seen her out and about with her. mick trails behind them, looking down at his phone as he matches their pace.

upon simply walking past the williams patio, mick looks up at the lack of the younger driver's acknowledgement of the guy in blue sitting very obviously in the white chair. mick cranes his neck back, shooting logan a questioning stare.

to which, logan only shrugs. mick is one of the few friends that she decided to tell; by that, he means that they got caught sneaking around the paddocks last year right by the haas racing home.

"still walked right past you?" a british accent makes logan tear his eyes off his girlfriend, meeting alex's brown eyes as he approaches the table. "how bad was the fight that you guys had?"

"pretty bad," logan mutters with a small smile, putting his phone down gently on the table. "did george tell you anything? did she tell them anything about the fight we had?"

alex frowns, shaking his head. logan came out and confessed that they, in fact, have been in a relationship for about two years. at first, alex was a bit appalled that logan was able to lie to him so fluently for the majority of the season.

after he processed his initial reaction, which only took about a minute or so, alex cheered and congratulated logan. as far as alex was concerned, it physically hurt to watch this young man be head over heels for someone he presumed to not be as interested in him as he is with her.

with his new-found knowledge of their involvement, alex went on a mission to pry george and lando - the people she's consistently stuck with all week - to try and figure out if she's said anything to them. or, has at least told them what's running through her mind.

alex did immediately run off. he was not glad to find out that his friends found out before him, but was very excited to share his new discovery.

he ran to the mercedes' racing home about an hour ago, squealing and giggling as he yanked george away from toto to talk. they were shortly joined by lando, spewing detailed accounts of the night he caught them in japan on a date.

then lando dropped his giggles, shaking his head at the assumption that their fight looked like it had gotten pretty bad. george then perks up, whispering very softly and incoherently about how bad it had seemed two nights ago during the opening ceremony rehearsal.

"they said she's been quite reserved since the first night," alex explains, lips pursed as he tries to remember everything that had nothing to do with the fact that he disappeared for a hot half hour because they derailed from the original topic of conversation.

alex found themselves talking about how they saw her crying in max's arm the other night, then concluding the conversation with what hair colour he should get next. "they said she's been with max a lot. hasn't even really talked to oscar, lando said."

logan scoffs, locking his jaw. he's not saying he's jealous of max verstappen, though it does seem to be that way to the naked eye.

okay so he's jealous of max verstappen. but in his defence, who wouldn't be? logan finds himself consistently at the back of the grid race after race, and there is his girlfriend sharing simple celebrations with the two-time world champion.

more often than not, on a race weekend, when she has to force a little distance from him to avoid partaking in the rumour mill, she's adopted by the older drivers to shower with information and a lot of love.

"yeah, she was walking with susie earlier," logan gestures at the long stretch ahead of them in the paddocks. "and she's wearing black."

"black?" alex repeats, raising an eyebrow. "like full black?" logan nods. "oh, you guys have got to talk soon. how long haven't you talked?"

"about a week."

"god," alex cries, rubbing his eyes. "okay, okay. we'll find a way to make you guys talk, okay?"

"how? she's been avoiding me all week. and i think this is something we need to come together on our own and figure out."

logan does have a big ego, but it all seems to fall apart when it comes to her. it's always been a topic for shits and giggles growing up though that seemed to change after they went on their first date.

almost immediately, everyone could tell how head over heels he was just for her.

"yeah, but neither of you is even trying?" alex points out, tilting his head and furrowing his eyebrows. "are you serious?"

"i can see how i worded that wrongly."

alex pushes his chair back, heading straight for the building behind them. "i will consult the madman. wait right here."

"whoa!" logan calls out, throwing his arms in the air. "you told your girlfriend that i have a girlfriend? dude, you were sworn to secrecy!"

"you're not as convincing as (y/n), from what i heard," alex purses his lips together, shaking his head. "and, lily knew before me, anyway. oscar's girlfriend whispered it in her ear when they went to the club last night when (y/n) refused to go out on the dance floor."

"fine. but come back with good news only."

"i'll try my best."

"it wasn't easy, i guess," toto shrugs, his office chair being manoeuvred around his small office by his feet planted against the floor. he stirs the coffee in his cup and looks at the girl curled into a ball in the chair on the other side of his table. "you need to put each other above the results of a weekend. you should not have let that get to you."

"but i guess it is kinda hard watching your girlfriend achieve the things you want to also be achieving," susie mutters, fingers pressed against her lips as she thinks.

for susie to know of her relationship with logan, you'd have to date back to over two years ago. susie had been fully vouching for her, trying to get her opportunities in a higher level to help her progress. so, of course, she had to excitedly tell susie about it.

if there was anyone who would be supportive, it's her. and susie didn't find a problem in their relationship, only claiming to tread carefully since they are always racing against one another.

susie is just more surprised that the difference in performance and the pressure of it all only just got to them now. racing alongside one another in f2 should have been the one that did it, but she guesses it's because they used to be a lot closer in the results back then.

"basically," toto sighs, blowing cold air into his cup of coffee. "put your relationship first if you want to make this last. and i know logan means a lot to you, so i am sure you will find a way around this."

"but why did it feel like it was my fault that he wasn't achieving the same things as me?" she sighs, throwing her head back into the wall with a soft thud. she looks at the ceiling of toto's office, knees to her chest as she hides away from the cameras and the prying questions of those who know of their relationship.

"you need to come together in the moments of hard times," toto mutters, shaking his head. "he's not doing well; you are doing well. find a middle ground."

"how am i supposed to do that, toto?" she yelps, melting into the seat, legs and arms spreading as she scratches the top of her head. "we literally just had the biggest fight of our relationship. two nights ago, i didn't even think there was no other way out of this but a breakup until max made me talk to susie."

the reason she's been following max instead of sebastian around all weekend is because she thought that he would be able to figure it out with her. alas, they were both stumped that night of the rehearsals, sipping on beer in a nearby bar.

she found herself hopeless, bracing herself to admit defeat to the pressures of dating someone within the sport. until max perked up after chugging half his glass of gin and tonic, eyes shimmering as the greatest idea he's had all night finally came to him.

"you know who i bet had to navigate a tricky situation?" max asked her, pointing a finger to her face knowingly. "susie and toto."

she hesitated, but max did make a compelling case. all he had to say was: "she used to race and he was an investor in the motorsport."

"i think," susie speaks, then pauses as she flutters her eyes to think for a moment, "that you're both great kids."

"thanks, that's exactly what my mum said," she answers flatly, unamused at the answer.

"so it might not be as difficult to resolve it," susie smiles. "i'm sure you can find a way."

"i'm here because i don't know a way," she repeats, throwing her arms around in the air. "you can't just say that to me and expect me to come up with a resolution instantly. i've avoided my boyfriend for almost a week because i thought there was only one solution!"

susie exchanges a smile with her husband, who is quietly giggling to himself at his table. then she looks at the young driver with a smile that emits less ridicule. "i can't do that for you. you have to figure it out with him; not us."

"are you saying i need to go and talk to him?" she frowns, folding her arms over her chest. "like i have to go up to him and talk to him? in person?"

"you can't do it over text message," toto frowns in confusion. he lifts his eyes to look at susie. "right?"

"she can," susie laughs, sitting on the armrest of his seat. she looks at the driver again. "but she shouldn't."

“handle this like an adult.”

“fine.”

logan was simply minding his own business in his driver's room when alex barged in (he's been doing that for the past week because he knows there's no possibility of a girl inside) and dragged him out.

he wasn't going to ask questions, he just followed alex blindly, dropping his head low in confusion.

right by the steps that lead into the william's racing home, their small group is huddled into a makeshift circle. they're leaned in with hushed whispers and excited giggles with lando even getting a bit loud with every couple of words he said.

she likes to call them the elite group that's somehow managed to find out about her and logan, though everyone argued with her that they didn't make much of an effort to really keep it under wraps.

"okay, so we came up with a plan," alex says, finally letting go of logan's sleeve.

max lifts his head, hands on his hips. "i wouldn't trust any plan you come up with."

"hey, i came up with that plan," lily.m scoffs, holding a hand against her chest. "excuse you."

"oh, then that's better," george agrees with a smile. "so what have you come up with?"

"really? you trust a plan that had alex's input on it?" lando cries, scratching his head. "you're gonna break them up! that's not the outcome we're trying to achieve, people! focus!"

"highly offended, actually," lily.m frowns. "like you can come up with a better plan."

alex waves his arms in the air in an attempt to hush the chatter that his friends are in. "no, listen! it's a good plan!"

"i also have a plan," mick speaks up, reaching his arm out into the middle of the circle to get their attention.

"i'd trust him more than whatever you two have come up with," max mutters, pointing at the couple accusingly.

logan actually appreciates the banter that's going on and it almost makes him forget the real reason they've all gathered here today. it's refreshing to be the one in the middle of older drivers' conversations.

this must be why his girlfriend has grown quite fond of them. but it's hard not to feel like an outsider.

"hey, we spent the better part of our alone time in my driver's room scheming!" alex defends himself, reaching out to push mick's arm away.

"hey, don't do that!" george laughs, smacking the back of alex's hand. "apologise!"

"guys," oscar finally speaks up. "i think we should address the problem at hand?"

"we will, but max says my plan would never work!" alex squeaks. "take that back!"

"i'm only speaking the truth!"

"but mate-"

"what are you guys doing?"

"hold on, (y/n), max is being- (y/n)!" alex screams just as everyone turns their head to find the smaller girl looking up at their group with a weird stare. she holds a pepsi tightly in her hands, pressing it against her chest as she takes an innocent sip.

logan feels his heart drop at the sight of his confused girlfriend standing there staring at them with wide eyes. but he also just feels an overwhelming surge of relief finally being this close to her again.

oscar is right: this is the longest they've gone without talking since they all met during karting. even his months-long trips back to florida never kept them apart from one another for this long. a couple days at best before they start falling back into old habits.

"we're having a," max trails, turning his head back to desperately search for somebody who can finish his sentence for him. "a..."

"we're discussing what to get for supper after the opening ceremony later," lily grins, elbowing oscar beside her to push him forward slightly.

oscar stumbles a step forward, clearing his throat as he meets his best friend's eyes. "yeah, we haven't found a place yet. we were just about to find you to ask you if you had any ideas!"

"and you're all going together?" she asks suspiciously, her eyes slowly scanning the participants of the circle. she momentarily meets logan's eyes before she settles for oscar's gaze again. "all of you?"

lando looks around, realising how weird their group has grown to be. he takes the initiative to answer her: "yeah. why not?"

she presses her lips together, moving her head to the side slightly to show him that she's not entirely buying the lie. "really?”

“yeah,” max nods excitedly. “we couldn’t find you so we discussed first.”

“but i’ve never seen you,” she points at oscar, then at logan, “and you hang out with george before.”

logan raises his eyebrows, taken aback by her sudden verbal acknowledgement of his presence. he shrugs, then turns his head to oscar for help.

“what, we can’t get to know each other over dinner?” george calls out with a scoff. “all this criticism — do you even know of a place we can go to to get some late-night food?”

“can it wait?” she asks sweetly with a small smile. “i kinda need to talk to logan alone.”

there’s a moment of silence.

“you’re making dinner plans without us, aren’t you,” mick jokes, furrowing his eyebrows at her. “why would you do that?”

she laughs, walking towards her boyfriend with a hand held out to his arm. “i just need to steal him for a little while — i promise we’ll head out to supper with you guys tonight.”

her hand lands on logan’s arm, wrapping itself around his arm. “we’ll catch you guys later?”

“okay,” max answers hesitantly. “don’t forget to think of where to eat.”

“max,” alex says through gritted teeth, hitting his shoulder.

“what?” max asks innocently, throwing his arms in the air as they start to pull away from the group.

she barely takes two steps away from them before she whispers to him, “can i talk to you for a bit?”

“yeah, of course,” logan nods, putting a hand on the small of her back. “your room?”

she nods with a small smile, then picks up her pace. she reaches back for his wrist, making him flinch at the first feel of her skin he’s gotten in the longest time. but he doesn't pull away, just lets the sliver of skin he can feel past the cuff of his fireproofs warm him up.

she rushes up the stairs leading up to the door of her racing home, head hung low as they navigate an all too familiar route. a route he hasn’t taken all week, but has been wanting to, and coward away from.

they’ve only got 15 minutes to figure this out in one sitting before it’s considered suspicious. they never stay in for too long to avoid suspicions within her team. just like a teenage couple would, they eventually keep the door open to prove that they're definitely not doing anything suspicious inside.

she greets her team principal with a small smile before she disappears into the stairs with logan still letting himself be dragged in by her. she makes a quick sharp turn into her room and closes the door behind her.

she faces the door, her heart racing in her chest and her hands start to sweat at the thought of confrontation over their intense fight. she came straight from toto's office and went to find logan, only to be told by james that he was dragged out by alex a few minutes prior.

she takes a deep breath and turns around and barely has the time to process just how much she's missed her boyfriend because she's being pulled into his arms in a tight hug.

"i'm sorry," logan mutters into her hair, his arms desperately clinging to her smaller frame.

she slowly lifts her arms, wrapping them around his torso to return the tight grip. "i'm sorry. i didn't mean what i said - i'm sorry."

"no, you're right. it's not my fault that i can't deliver for races. i shouldn't have taken it out on you," logan sighs, pulling away. "it's- oh, please don't cry."

"i'm sorry," she repeats, starting to heave heavily out of guilt. just the sheer thought that breaking up might have been the only way has been eating at her all day. "logan, i-"

"please don't cry," logan whispers, his lips pressing as a knot forms on his forehead. great. now they're both crying. his thumbs swipe over both her cheeks in an attempt to dry her tears but the new ones just keep undoing his efforts. "you can cry but don't make me cry. only one of us can cry at a time."

and then she couldn't hold it in anymore. she breaks into a louder cry. "i'm sorry i thought breaking up was the only way out of this. i'm sorry - i just didn't see how we could have moved past something as big as what we were fighting about. i love you, logan, but i didn't know what else i could do. i'm sorry."

suddenly it felt like someone had thrown a knife directly into his chest. the entire week, the thought that she might have considered breaking up with him came up many times. he was good at keeping those thoughts at bay, but hearing it directly from her lips just felt different.

it hurt differently when it came from the person you think is your soulmate.

"oh."

she stifled a sob when he straightened his back and dropped his hands from her cheeks. "i didn't know what to do. i'm sorry. i didn't know how long more we could go on walking on eggshells every race we would have. i hated hurting you like that every weekend. i hated seeing you force smiles, laughter and neverminds just to accommodate to me.

"i," she cuts herself off, forcing herself to swallow the sob that's bubbled up from the deepest part of her chest. she tries to blink her tears away, but it falls anyway. she turns away from him momentarily to wipe it away on the cuff of her fireproof. "i couldn't keep doing that to you."

"you," logan sighs, throwing his head back, palms covering his eyes. "you really think that i care about any of that? i contemplated; i told you, two years ago every single outcome our relationship could have on us! you knew this was bound to happen and now you're telling me you thought about ending it over this?"

"because i saw the way you would look at me every weekend! you didn't look at me the way you did in singapore when i was up on that podium when we were in bahrain at the start of the year. you can say you love me and that you're happy for me, but i can tell!"

"tell what?"

"i can tell that however much you loved me wasn't going to be enough for you to push away the growing feeling of-" she sighs, and tears her eyes away from him. she settles for the teddy bear sitting on her bean bag. she presses her lips together, jaw locking as she hates herself for what she's about to say. "of eventually hating me."

"why would you ever think that i could grow to hate you?" logan rubs his face roughly, then runs his hands through his hair. "i- god, i'm so in love with you! i was - i am - happy for you, but i could also see the pity in your eyes every weekend that i would finish behind you! you're sorry for me! i don't need that from you - everybody already always looks at me that way."

"because i know you on the track! i've raced against you my entire career - i know what you're capable of!"

"then why do you keep looking at me like i'm always just going to crash out every race?"

"i want to see you succeed! i hate seeing you like this! i hate having to go everywhere and watch and listen and look at people speaking about you like this! you're nothing like what they say!"

"i don't need your pity! i need you to be my girlfriend - i put you above what happens on a race weekend. if you succeed, then you succeed and then you can go and celebrate! but i never minimised any of your achievements just because my race went haywire. if i crash out and you've somehow managed to break a record, that's okay! it's doesn't fucking matter, because your achievements obviously mean the entire world more than that.

"stop trying to think of what i will feel when you succeed. i'm your boyfriend - i am always going to be happy for you. separate our results from our relationship. if you keep letting it get in the way, this will never work."

she straightens her back and snaps her head to him. "you want to break up with me?"

"no," logan sighs, shaking his head tiredly. he takes a step forward, her eyes dropping to his feet then lifting it to meet his eyes. "i don't want to break up with you, i'm just- i didn't speak to you very nicely before we left for vegas. i think i didn't word myself appropriately and i'm sorry."

"you were right about some points, honestly, it doesn't-"

"i didn't mean to blame you for the way i was feeling, and neither was it my intention to back you into a corner because i couldn't get a grip in an f1 car. it's not right."

"but, logan-"

"stop trying to take care of me and my feelings. i promise i always literally get over it when i see your team throwing you around when you make history."

"that's not fair," she says softly, leaning into his touch when he lifts his hand to cup her cheek. "you can feel feelings too. i don't want you to deprive yourself of that."

"i can be sad about it another day that doesn't interfere with you. it doesn't matter what i'm feeling retiring from a race when you never fail to deliver results."

"that doesn't solve my problem, logan. i don't want you to hate me."

"i'm never going to hate you," he laughs softly, throwing his arms around her for another embrace. "why would you ever think that?"

"because i've seen this happen to friends in the same field. one succeeds more than the other, and the latter can't cope. it almost always ends up falling apart."

"emphasis on 'friends'," logan smiles slightly, bending down to meet her at her height. "you're my girlfriend. we're always going to have to find ways around shit like this. we knew that when we started dating. right?"

"yeah? but it just doesn't sound like a solution i'll be okay with."

"i promise i'm trying to get better so i can redeem that one deal we made in bahrain at the start of the year."

"god, logan! you're disgusting!" her hand comes down to land a smack on his shoulder.

he bursts out laughing and leans down again to make their noses touch. "we're going to be okay."

"really?" she grins shyly, her hand resting above the back of his hand that's pressed up against her cheek. "you really think we'll be okay even if we're in f1 for the rest of our lives?"

"i know so. i know that because my mama didn't raise no quitter - i'm never leaving you."

"why'd you have to ruin it?"

"it was getting too sappy."

"maybe i preferred you guys when you were fighting," max scoffs, walking away from the seat he's just been evicted from. "you were able to act like two normal human beings."

"everything about this week is normal!" george cries, shaking his head. "she wore sunglasses indoors after making fun of me for it! how is that fair?"

"i literally told you i'm sitting next to logan," the younger driver states, glaring at max. "you went and sat next to him anyway. you did this to yourself."

"we're in america - it's called first come first serve."

"i literally don't think that's how it works," alex sighs, turning to look at max. "be better, max."

"trust me, i'm trying."

kidy/n

liked by logansargeant, blythe.yln and 73,482 others

kidy/n guys we’re still friends i promise i just can’t stand him when he makes me go fish with him because huh

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logansargeant no cuz why did u post this

logansargeant i thought you were joking

kidy/n learn to take me seriously every once in a while idk

oscarpiastri appropriate picture to end the us races imo

sebastianvettel ?

yukitsunoda0511 i’ll go fishing with u logan :/

lilyzneimer i’m going to have to disagree on this y/n

kidy/n please say jk right now i know you’re not defending this fish murderer

georgerussell63 hahahahahahahaha

kidy/n ?

williamsracing can we borrow these pics? asking for a friend

kidy/n merch with these photos?

williamsracing we’ll deliver it straight to your doorstep

logansargeant ???

@littlesatanicassholebitch @what-is-happening-helpp @myxticmoon @gentlyweeps-world @nerdfromanotherworld @n7ytiri @alliesreblogs

#quite the write #u dont understand #it took me 2 hours writing logan and femdriver's scene alone #wtffff #logan sargeant #logan sargeant x reader #logan sargeant x you #female driver #fem!driver #f1 female driver #f1 x you #f1 #disneyprincemuke #disneyprincemuke imagine #disneyprincemuke imagines #disneyprincemuke f1 #disneyprincemuke ial

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acesofspadess · 11 months ago

Text

Rewind

I definitely published this a bit out of order but bare with me

“Hello Team Niall.” Niall introduced as they all waved and greeted him back. “Well, I've got a bit of news for you. Because of my concert schedule, I actually won't be in town for knockout rehearsals.” Everyone was shocked… and rightfully so. “Because I won't be there, I've chosen another coach to come in and mentor you guys for rehearsal.” Everyone started to freak out wondering who on earth it might be.

“And they have been in your place before so I think they’ve got exactly what you need.”

The scene changed to the all too familiar practice room with an empty directors chairs. The sounds of steps progressively got louder until the special person appeared.

“I'M BACK!”

But let's not get ahead of ourselves. Let's rewind a bit.

~~~~~~

A day or two after The Voice Finale

“Hi I’m Maia Quinn, and I'm the Season 23 winner of The Voice, and we're hanging out with Rob on Front Row Live.”

“Go with me.” Niall moaned into your mouth as you straddled him. “Where?” you question kissing down his neck. “Boston. I know it's last minute and we’d leave in the morning-” you shut him up with a kiss and a roll of your hips, his hands tightening against your thighs. “Just wake me up an hour before we leave.”

Sitting at the desk of you and Niall’s shared hotel room the morning of May 26th you had early interviews to get through before you were meant to go to the festival. You looked over the camera to see Niall already looking at you.

“Maia congratulations. What a night you had a few nights ago.” Rob praised and you smiled adjusting your airpod. “I am super excited for you and your career and your future. Especially because you're starting so young. You have enough time to kind of like, continue to evolve, and understand your voice; learn a lot more about yourself throughout this process. Talk to me about this process of your experience here on the voice and how you've evolved as a vocalist and a performer.” The interview was more than you could ever imagine.

“Now your relationship with Niall this season has had fans going crazy. From the after performance hugs to the duet, and the after party, what can you tell us about that?”

You saw Nialls face peak over the laptop screen and stayed neutral. “Niall has been the most supportive and very encouraging. He has become one of my best friends through this whole journey. I lost a lot of my confidence during the pandemic unfortunately. It made me think that I would never be able to do things that I certainly could do and Niall- all these years later- has been there to remind me that I probably can do them, and then make me do it. So our friendship and relationship has been so important to me. He is my best friend across the charts and he’d hate me for saying this, but I wouldn't be here without him.”

“Last question before we go. Is there anything we can look forward to seeing soon? Maybe another EP?”

You smiled glad you were able to share some information on what was coming next. “All I'll say now is, look for me on stage back home.” you winked dramatically knowing those who would get it would get it.”

“That's amazing, I'll definitely keep my eyes peeled. It was so great having you on. I hope to see you in person soon.”

“Bye!”

``````````````

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User10 i'm actually really happy she won

User2 wait…Slane is in Ireland…..

User6 I just learned she had an EP…. what?!?!?!?

Being at Boston Calling with him

“Boston, Massachusetts, how you doing?” he asked the crowd after he finished ‘Heaven’. The loud response made him smile excitedly. “Holy shit! This is crazy.” you face palmed knowing he was going to slip up sooner or later. “Thank you all so much for coming out to see me. I really appreciate it.” they cheered again as he sipped his water. You watched as he looked at the amount of people and a smile formed on your face.

“This is uhm- this is actually my first ever Festival.” he let out a breath at the realisation. “I've definitely been drunk at a few.” you laughed at him with the rest of the crowd. “But I've never played at any and for that reason I'm absolutely shitting myself.” he said looking at you knowing you would calm him, and him seeing you laugh did just the trick.

“But thank you for being here. I know some of you guys have been queuing for years.” he looked around at the signs “My girlfriend showed me this earlier ‘i travelled four thousand miles to be here from Brazil’ your eyes went wide at the declaration and the deafening screams were present. He subtly looked in your direction and saw your reaction, his worry diminished as he saw you smiling making him smile. “Makes you feel bad from coming just down the road doesn't it? ‘I came from round New York’.” he mocked, “awe who cares.” he laughed with them and you hid a big smile behind your hands.

~~~~

You walked the same route you came flashing your pass when you reached the gate and made your way in to see Niall. When you saw him you squealed and ran over to him. He turned when he heard you and caught you in his arms as you wrapped your legs around his waist and he spun you both around hands on the swell of your bum.

“I'm so proud of you!” you screamed and he laughed before he was kissing you passionately. It was quick as many more pecks through giggles followed. “I can not explain to you how happy i am.” he whispered in shock as you were sitting in the trailer behind the stage and he was getting changed. “You should be so happy, my love. That was incredible, and I am so so proud of you.” he smiled at you before grabbing your hand and kissing the ring on it. “You make me so happy, baby girl.” you melted at his words and stood up to kiss him softly. “And you make me the happiest girl, Ni.”

You surprising Niall at his Zane Lowe interview and him outing you

You knew Niall was disappointed when you told him you wouldn't be able to make it to his Zane Lowe interview today. He was really excited for this one and wanted you to be there. It was only a few days later that you flew from Boston down to LA for the interview. You were working on last minute stuff for the announcement today and you were nowhere close to done when he was getting ready to leave.

“I'm sorry love.” you kissed his pout away as you both stood by the door of his LA house. “I know, it’s okay. I know why you can’t make it, and for that I am so very proud.” he melted his lips against yours as your hands went to the curls on the back of his neck and he wrapped his went straight to your bum.

~~~

Niall was watching Zane play his songs and the guitar with a big smile a few hours after he left. “There are some pretty songs on this record bro.” Zane complimented as he switched playing from ‘The Show’ to ‘You could start a cult’. You who had just made it into the studio to surprise Niall were standing behind the glass watching him, waiting for him to notice.

“Thank you very much.'' He cut through Zanes music. “This one kills me.” Zane admitted as Niall caught on to what he was playing. “Yeah.” he cheered Zane on softly, finally noticing you. You saw his smile widened and you waved softly. “You Could Start A Cult.” he named distractedly, still looking at you as if he looked away you would disappear.

~~~

“Kingdoms fighting over you,” Niall continued. “I think that like they’re the ones- that could have very easily been, ‘ i like waking up beside you and you're my favourite person.” he joked easily. “But ‘you could start a war’.” you shook your head at his lyrical genius. “Do you ever crack yourself up with it?”

‘Yeah it was something silly at first but now everyone's obsessed with it. It started with me and my girlfriend now, when we met we would watch crime shows together over facetime,” he exposed and you chuckled at his laugh.

‘You say girlfriend now, sorry if i'm over stepping but..” zane trailed off

“No,” he shrugged off looking at you, who nodded, “she was not my girlfriend at the time, she is now, is what that meant.”

“So did she not know the song was for her?”

“She didn't know any song was for her- or about her I should say. The road from when we met to now has been a very dark windy tunnel, but we made it to the other end.”

“That's beautiful Niall, truly.” You smiled at him agreeing with Zane.

“This was the last song on the record that we wrote.” Niall confessed, and you wondered why. “Why, what was missing?” and without hesitation he pointed to you, “her.” Zane looked to where he was pointing and you waved happily at him. He waved back to you just as happy before turning to Niall with a face of shock. “No?” he gasped and Niall laughed, throwing his head back. “Yeah, I know. Way out of my league.” he watched you shake your head with an eye roll and he couldn't stop the smile from gracing his face.

“I could’ve gone and did what I did with the rest of the record and put BV’s all over it and strings and that was my plan - and John just said to me- because we we were not talking at the time…” he pointed between you and him, “...this is your message to,” he paused, ‘“ her’ keep it that way. Just you and your guitar and your feelings.”

And while there's much much more… you’ll see that soon

#nialler #cute niall #niall horan x reader #niall horan fluff #niall horan fanfiction #niall horan #niall horan smut #niall fanfic #niall one shot #one direction #solo niall #niall 1d #niall james horan #niall horan fic #niall the show #niall horan x y/n #niall imagine #niall horan x you #the show 2024

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sgiandubh · 2 months ago

Note

What sort of marketing is this? Why do they air this TV Insider interview with David Berry on YouTube b e f o r e the episode airs when they ask detailed questions about what happens in the episode and tell us practically everything? Was it an accidentc or the way to entice the audience to increase the ratings or ⭐ marketing strategy sucks?

On a happier note, allow me to interpret David's answers:

"I was ready to explore the love scene further but there were negotiations because Sam interfered. I feel very uncomfortable talking about just as I was extremely nervous to pretend that I was having sexual relations with his wife both on and off screen. We practically improvised the whole scene. Cait was aggressive because she felt uncomfortable doing it knowing that Sam will watch it. She didn't want to be in it as much as I didn't. We didn't rehearse much because Sam was very much against the scene being filmed. I'm seriously avoiding Sam now. He is very strong and protective of Cait. It feels weird being in his presence. Thank God for the scripts that don't give us many interactions afterwards."

I genuinely sorry for David. What a peculiar position he was and quite possibly still is in!

Dear Peculiar Position Anon,

I will give my take on it when I get to the third (Jesus, what a scandal!) batch of #jottings. Spoiler, though: it wasn't as terrible as I thought it would be.

As for your interpretation, yours is as good as anybody's, of course. I would be much more reserved: this is, after all, acting (I am serious, this time) and I don't think these three people would be as naive as to give it such a childish connotation. I think SC and David are very good friends and, while I do agree S is very protective of C, I wouldn't go as far as you did.

Anyways, for those who missed it, here is the interview you are referring to:

youtube

May I also add that I like David Berry a LOT? Rewatching the interview, I think he gave us one of the most credible feedbacks ever on what it means to shoot a difficult scene, while you just knew all eyes would be upon it and expectations over the roof.

It also goes to show - and David has been endearingly honest about it - just how hard it is to shoot such a scene (all the 'really difficult' preparation process, the things that 'ended on the cutting room floor', the 'negotiation') when you don't have the organic famous 'shorthand' and 'ease' S&C always mention, when they talk about their intimate scenes.

That 'shorthand' and that' ease' have a name, Anon. We know exactly what that is about.

I also loved what David shared about his own research on gay people's approach to love, feelings' management (if I may say so) and intimacy. All I will say right now (I might get back to it later, who knows?) is that he did it respectfully and empathetically. A very, very difficult thing to achieve, I believe, that speaks volumes about how special David Berry is, both as an actor and a person (note to self: buy Landcon extras!).

Finally, you might want to compare the above interview with the somewhat sanitized, in-house narrative of ***:

youtube

Quite different things, I believe. And I so wish Maril would shut the dang up about what obviously is way above her range!

#anon #fandom #shitshow #Season 7B #ahundredweightofstones

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hotdaemondtargaryen · 6 months ago

Text

EWAN MITCHELL IN CONVERSATION WITH EMMA D'ARCY FOR HERO MAGAZINE.

EMMA D'ARCY: — WHERE ARE YOU? ARE YOU IN AMERICA?

EWAN MITCHELL: NO, BUT I WAS SHOOT IN NEW YORK. HAVE YOU EVER BEEN?

ED: YEAH, I DID THE CRUCIBLE THERE [AT THE YARD THEATRE IN 2019] AND WE GOT A GREYHOUND TO SALEM, THEY'RE REALLY INTO THE OCCULT THERE. — WHAT ARE YOU UP TO AT THE MOMENT?

EM: I'M SUFFERING SEVERE JET LAG FROM NEW YORK, BUT I LOVED IT. I LIKE THE AMBIENCE, THE PEOPLE, THE FOOD. I LOVE HOW EVERYONE SAYS, 'I GOT YA.' — WHAT ABOUT YOU?

ED: I'VE JUST DONE A WEEK OF REHEARSALS BUT I'VE HAD A NICE BIT OF TIME NOT DOING ANYTHING PRIOR TO THAT.

EM: THE CALM BEFORE THE STORM.

ED: I'D BE QUITE HAPPY TO DO NOTHING FOR A REALLY LONG TIME. I FIND IT INCREDIBLY INTERESTING TO DO ALMOST NOTHING AT ALL. I DON'T KNOW HOW MUCH OF A PROBLEM THAT'S GOING TO BE FOR MY CAREER GOING FORWARD, BUT IT'S BEEN NICE. [LAUGHS]

EM: I HAVE TO STAY BUSY WHEN I'M NOT WORKING.

ED: YEAH BUT YOU'RE YOUNG, I'VE CROSSED THE BOUNDARY INTO A DIFFERENT TYPE OF LIFE.

EM: NO WAY.

ED: I DON'T MEAN IT IN A BAD WAT EITHER, IT'S ACTUALLY SO CRAZY. FOR THE FIRST TIME EVER I'M QUESTIONING, 'WHAT DO I WANT MY LIFE TO LOOK LIKE?' IT'S NOT A QUESTION I HAD EVER ASKED BEFORE — IT'S COOL. I THINK MAYBE IT COMES WITH A REALISATION THAT THIS IS IN FACT YOUR LIFE.

EM: OH WOW, WHAT AGE WILL IT HIT ME?

ED: HOW OLD ARE YOU?

EM: I'M 26.

ED: YOU'VE PROBABLY GOT FOUR OR FIVE YEARS. [LAUGHS]

EM: WHEN I'M NOT WORKING I DO HAVE TO KEEP BUSY. I DON'T KNOW HOW IT IS FOR YOU, BUT I HAVE TO ADOPT A KIND OF SLEEPER AGENT LIFESTYLE, I HAVE CREATE A ROUTINE. I BOX EVERY OTHER DAY AND KEEP MY MIND BUSY. I THINK MY MATES KNOW I COME WITH A DISCLAIMER THAT IF ANYTHING COMES UP, THEN I'M DROPPING EVERYTHING FOR WORK — I JUST LOVE IT.

ED: WHAT YOU DESCRIBE IS A STATE OF PERPETUALLY LEAVING.

EM: EVERYTHING I DO ALWAYS RELATES TO ACTING WEIRDLY, IT HAS TO INFORM MY PROCESS IN SOME WAY, SHAPE OR FORM AND IF IT DOESN'T, IT SWITCHES ME OFF.

ED: — WHAT IS YOUR PROCESS?

EM: I NEVER WENT TO DRAMA SCHOOL SO EVERY JOB I DO IS AN OPPORTUNITY TO HONE IT AND TRY NEW THINGS.

BRUCE LEE SAID, 'ABSORB WHAT IS USEFUL AND DISCARD WHAT IS NOT,' HE WOULD CHERRY-PICK FROM DIFFERENT COMBAT DISCIPLINES AND IN DOING SO FORMED HIS OWN MARTIAL ART.

SIMILAR TO ME, I'M TRYING IT ON THE FLY AND SEEING WHAT STICKS, WHAT DOESN'T, MIXING IT UP FOR DIFFERENT CHARACTERS. AND SO FAR, SO GOOD. — WHAT ABOUT YOU?

ED: I ALSO DIDN'T GO TO DRAMA SCHOOL AND STRUGGLE WHEN DIRECTORS VERY KINDLY ASK, 'HOW CAN I BEST SUPPORT YOUR PROCESS?' I DON'T FEEL PARTICULARLY CLEAR ABOUT WHAT THAT MEANS.

EM: — SO YOU'RE QUITE INSTINCTUAL?

ED: I THINK I'M PART COMPLETELY PRE-MEDITATED AND PART NOT.

I WOULD SAY THAT I HAVE A CONFIDENCE PROBLEM SO I DO A LOT OF PREPARATION, BUT FOR ME PREPARATION IS CONFIDENCE, WHICH ALLOWS ME TO LET GO OF THE PREPARATION ON THE DAY.

WHEREAS, IF I WERE TO COME IN EMPTY-HANDED, MY CONFIDENCE PROBLEM WOULD FLARE UP.

EM: I HAVE TO CONGRATULATE YOU ON YOUR SHORT FILM 'THE TALENT' [EMMA CO-PRODUCED AND STARRED IN THE 2023 BIFA-NOMINATED SHORT], I LOVED IT.

ED: THANK YOU, IT WAS A JOY.

EM: WAS THAT THE FIRST THING YOU'VE PRODUCED?

ED: YEAH, I CO-PRODUCED IT. I WOULDN'T HAVE MANAGED IT ON MY OWN.

EM: I'D LOVE TO DO THAT ONE DAY, IT'S SO COOL.

ED: I'VE LOVED GOING TO FILM FESTIVALS WITH IT BECAUSE IT'S NOT SOMETHING I'D DONE BEFORE, IT'S SUCH A NICE PROCESS. — WOULD YOU LIKE TO DIRECT?

EM: I DON'T KNOW, MAYBE NOT YET. I STILL FEEL LIKE I WANT TO ACT. I LOOK AT WHAT MARGOT ROBBIE HAS DONE WITH LUCKYCHAP [ENTERTAINMENT, ROBBIE'S PRODUCTION COMPANY] AND HOW SHE'S PRODUCED FILMS SHE'S REALLY PASSIONATE ABOUT, FILMS YOU THINK CAN CHANGE THE INDUSTRY IN SOME WAY. I'D LOVE TO DO THAT. GROWING UP, THERE WERE THE FILMS I REALLY ENJOYED, NOT THE NORMAL LIGHT ENTERTAINMENT ONES, BUT THAT EXPANDED MY UNDERSTANDING AND CHALLENGED ME. THOSE FILMS ARE THE ONES I WANT TO BE A PART OF IN SOME WAY, SHAPE OR FORM. IF NOT ACTING, I GUESS IT WOULD PRODUCING. — HOW LONG WAS THE PROCESS FROM START TO FINISH?

ED: PROBABLY AROUND A YEAR FROM THE SCRIPT NOT EXISTING, BUT IN A MORE STRUCTURED WAY, MAYBE A PRE-PRODUCTION OF FIVE MONTHS. I DON'T REALLY KNOW WHY I ASKED YOU IF YOU WANTED TO DIRECT BECAUSE EVERYONE ALWAYS SAYS THAT AND I FEEL LIKE INHERENT IN THE QUESTION IS THAT CULTURALLY, WE PRIVILEGE THE IDEA OF THE PRIMARY ARTIST. IF YOU'RE AN INTERPRETATIVE SECONDARY ARTIST, WE DON'T CREDIT THAT IN QUITE THE SAME WAY, BUT I DON'T AGREE WITH THAT VIEW. I DON'T WANT TO DIRECT BUT REALLY LIKE PRODUCING AND FEEL VERY CONFIDENT IN MY SECONDARY ARTIST STATUS.

EM: I FEEL LIKE THAT WITH BOXING, IF I EVER WENT INTO AMATEUR THERE ARE A LOT OF OTHER HUNGRY UP-AND-COMING BOXERS AND IT'S JUST NOT MY GAME, I'M NOT AS INSPIRED BY THAT AS I AM BY ACTING. I DON'T WANT TO BREAK MY NOSE AND GET KNOCKED OUT.

ED: IF YOU'RE BOXING A LOT, HOW DO YOU ENSURE THAT YOUR NOSE DOESN'T GET BROKEN?

EM: WE KEEP IT LIGHT AND IT'S USUALLY JUST PADS, IF I HAVE TO WEAR A HEAD GUARD I WILL DO, BUT SAFETY PRECAUTIONS ARE IN PLACE. [LAUGHS] — DO YOU BOX?

ED: I DON'T, BUT A FRIEND OF MINE TOOK PART IN A QUEER CHARITY BOXING EVENT AND I WAS SURPRISED BY HOW VISCERALLY TERRIBLE I FOUND IT TO WATCH THEM FIGHT.

EM: DID YOU NOT WANT TO GET IN THERE AND JOIN THEM?

ED: I SUDDENLY FELT SO WILDLY HELPLESS AND ALL I COULD DO WAS SCREAM FROM A PLACE OF WANTING TO PROTECT AND SUPPORT BUT ALSO FROM A PLACE OF FEAR. MY FRIEND DID BEAUTIFULLY AND THEY'RE AMAZING, BUT I'D NEVER BEEN IN THAT ENVIRONMENT BEFORE AND WHEN IT CAME TO IT I COULDN'T HANDLE IT. — HOW DID YOU GET INTO ACTING?

EM: I ALWAYS WANTED TO DO IT BUT I'M NOT TOO SURE WHERE IT CAME FROM. I HEARD ABOUT THE TELEVISION WORKSHOP IN NOTTINGHAM AND APPLIED THE FIRST YEAR BUT DIDN'T GET IN. FOR THE SECOND YEAR, I HAD THIS LITTLE NOTEBOOK THAT I WOULD JOT DOWN IN BECAUSE I KNEW THE STRUCTURE OF THE PROCESS OF THE AUDITION. I CAME UP WITH ALL OF THESE NEAT LITTLE QUIPS I COULD USE. I GOT IN THE SECOND TIME, THEN FROM THE WORKSHOP I DID A SHORT FILM CALLED 'FIRE' DIRECTED BY CHRIS ANDREWS. I GOT IT BURNT ONTO CDs AND I GOT ALL THE NAMES OF THE AGENCIES I KNEW OF IN LONDON. I WENT DOWN [TO LONDON] ON THE TRAIN AND POSTED THEM TO ALL OF THE AGENTS.

ED: SIDE NOTE, ARE YOU UNCONSCIOUS YET? I'D SAY I'M STILL SELF-CONSCIOUS IN INTERVIEWS.

EM: I ALWAYS WANT TO FLIP IT ON ITS HEAD AND ASK THE INTERVIEWER QUESTIONS, JUST BECAUSE OF THAT INNATE FEAR THAT IT MIGHT BORDER INTO THERAPY AND YOU MIGHT BE ROBIN WILLIAMS AND I'LL BE MATT DAMON SITTING ON A PARK BENCH IN BOSTON SOMEWHERE AND IT'S GOOD WILL HUNTING.

THERE'S SOMETHING ABOUT MYSTERY AS WELL, AND ONCE YOU LOSE THAT MYSTERY YOU CAN'T REALLY GET IT BACK. IF PEOPLE GET TO KNOW THE REAL ME, I DO BELIEVE IT'LL DETRACT FROM WHAT I'M TRYING TO DO AS AN ACTOR. I WANT YOU TO ESCAPE INTO MY CHARACTERS, I DON'T WANT YOU TO SEE EWAN. — HOW ARE YOU WITH INTERVIEWS? I'M SUPER GRATEFUL YOU'VE DONE THIS.

ED: I'VE GOT BETTER, I DON'T MEAN BETTER AS A QUALITY JUDGEMENT, BUT I HAVE BECOME MORE COMFORTABLE. I WAS VERY BAD AT THE BEGINNING, I HAD THIS 'GOOD SCHOOLBOY' WHO CAME OUT AND ACTUALLY, HE COMPLETELY WIPED MY PERSONALITY. HE FEELS THAT IT'S A TEST AND THERE IS A RIGHT ANSWER. I HAVE TO BANISH MY GOOD BOY OTHERWISE I AM VIOLENTLY DULL.

EM: AND THAT'S ME RIGHT NOW, RIGHT? [BOTH LAUGH]

ED: EWAN, GET ON THE CHAISE LONGUE, WE'RE GOING TO TALK. [BOTH LAUGH]

IT IS FRIGHTENING AT THE BEGINNING; I DON'T KNOW HOW YOU FEEL BUT I'M ONLY JUST AT A POINT NOW SINCE THE SHOW CAME OUT THAT I FEEL OK.

EM: REALLY? DID YOU NOT FEEL YOURSELF GETTING WARMED UP THE MORE YOU WERE DOING THAT MASSIVE PRESS RUN FOR SEASON ONE?

ED: NO. [LAUGHS]

I THINK MY GOOD BOY CAME OUT, BUT YOU CAN'T PREDICT THE PARAMETERS OF A CHANGE LIKE THAT IN YOUR LIFE UNTIL IT HAPPENS AND YOU'VE SAT IN IT FOR A WHILE. I FOUND IT QUITE FRIGHTENING [AT FIRST].

EM: YOU'RE WORKING WITH BEN WHISHAW AT THE MOMENT RIGHT?

ED: YEAH.

EM: I READ THAT WHEN HE'S OFF STAGE HE HAS THAT ANXIETY TOO, WATCHING HIS WORK YOU'D NEVER EVEN THINK OF IT. IN 'PASSAGES,' HE'S AMAZING AND EVEN IN THE SMALLER SUPPORTING CHARACTERS TOO.

HE JUST KILLS IT IN ANYTHING HE DOES. I FOUND IT INTERESTING BECAUSE YOU DON'T SEE [ANXIETY] IN HIS PERFORMANCES, WHICH IS INSPIRING.

I DID A COMIC CON IN BRAZIL AND IT WAS SUPER FUN BUT AT THE SAME TIME, I HAD TO BE SOMEONE ELSE. I HAD THIS LEATHER SUIT ON AND IT WAS SO EMPOWERING. I FELT UNSTOPPABLE AND IN THE END I ADOPTED THIS CONFIDENT CHARACTER.

I RECOGNISE I NEED TO BE MORE MYSELF IN THESE SITUATIONS, FOR SURE.

ED: I HONESTLY DON'T KNOW IF THAT'S TRUE, IT DEPENDS ON WHAT YOU WANT TO GIVE AWAY.

EM: I HAVEN'T SEEN YOU AT ALL WHILE SHOOTING SEASON TWO.

ED: — HOW DID THIS SEASON FEEL?

EM: I LOVED IT. I LIKE THAT SEPARATION BETWEEN OUR TWO SIDES OF THE FAMILY BECAUSE WHEN WE DO MEET AGAIN IT'S GOING TO BE SEISMIC. THE FIRST SEASON IT WAS GREAT TO FINALLY SEE THAT CRESCENDO AND NOW SEASON TWO IS THE FALLOUT.

I REALLY CAN'T WAIT FOR YOUR PERFORMANCE, IT'S QUITE NICE NOT KNOWING WHAT'S GOING ON.

ED: I AGREE, AND IT'S NICE HAVING SO MUCH TO WATCH THAT YOU HAVEN'T SEEN. I HAVE A WHOLE HALF OF THE SHOW THAT I KNOW NOTHING ABOUT. — DO YOU WATCH YOURSELF?

EM: I DO, IT TAKES A GOOD TWELVE OR THIRTEEN TIMES BEFORE I CAN APPRECIATE IT. I FIND IT REALLY DIFFICULT BUT I ALSO RECOGNISE THAT I WANT TO KNOW WHAT WORKS AND WHAT DOESN'T. — DO YOU?

ED: YES, BUT QUITE MINIMALLY. — DO YOU WATCH PLAYBACK ON SET?

EM: — I CAN'T LOOK AT MYSELF, DO YOU?

ED: NO, BUT I GENUINELY THINK IT WOULD BE HELPFUL IF I COULD STOMACH IT. SO MUCH ON SCREEN IS SO TECHNICAL AND BECAUSE SO MANY FACTORS MEDIATE YOUR PERFORMANCE, IT'S REASONABLE THAT THINGS MIGHT NOT COMMUNICATE AS YOU'RE IMAGINING.

BUT THEN I DON'T KNOW WHETHER THAT WOULD BE A DEGREE OF CONTROL THAT IS JUST NOT REAL BECAUSE WE HAVE SO LITTLE CONTROL AND FUNDAMENTALLY THE NARRATIVE WILL BE IN THE EDIT.

EM: — WHAT IS IT LIKE WORKING WITH MATT SMITH?

ED: IT'S GREAT, I LOVE HIM AN EXTRAORDINARY AMOUNT AND FEEL PRIVILEGED WHEN I GET TO WORK WITH HIM. IT'S SO NICE TO KNOW WHAT LIGHTS SOMEONE UP, HE'S SO REACTIVE AND HE RESPONDS BEAUTIFULLY TO NEWNESS, IT'S SUCH A DELIGHTFUL GAME.

EM: I REMEMBER THAT MOMENT IN SEASON ONE EPISODE EIGHT AROUND THE BANQUET TABKE AND AEMOND AND DAEMON HAVE A FACE-OFF, AND IN ONE OF THE TAKES MATT SPOKE IN A MURMUR BUT IT WAS HIGH VALYRIAN. I DID NOTICE THAT QUALITY IN THE LIMITED TIMES I WORKED WITH HIM. THERE IS SOMETHING SPICY ABOUT MIXING IT UP, KEEPING YOU ON YOUR TOES AND IN TURN, YOU PICK UP A FEW MOVES IN THE PROCESS.

ED: IT'S REALLY GOOD. THE GUY'S GOT GREAT TASTE AS WELL, SOMETIMES HE HAS LOVELY IDEAS ABOUT HOW A THING MIGHT PLAY BEST AND AT WHAT SIZE. I GET THE SENSE HE HAS A REALLY VIVID PICTURE IN HIS MIND'S EYE AND THAT'S SO HELPFUL BECAUSE IT REFERS TO THE TECHNICAL PART OF OUR JOB. IT'S A PRIVILEGE TO BE 'LOST IN THE CHARACTER' BUT THERE IS A SPECIFIC TECHNICAL PART OF HOW SOMETHING COMMUNICATES AND I THINK HE IS REALLY GOOD AT THAT.

EM: THAT'S SO INTERESTING. I DO TRY TO TAKE THAT INTO CONSIDERATION WITH FRAME SIZES AND WHAT TO PLAY UP AND PLAY DOWN. IT'S ALL A BIG LEARNING CURVE, ISN'T IT?

#house of the dragon #hotd #hotd s2 #tv shows #team green #aemond targaryen #ewan mitchell #aemond one eye #hero magazine #conversation #emma d'arcy #queen rhaenyra targaryen #rhaenyra targaryen #hotd rhaenyra #hotd aemond #actors #hotd cast #interview #team black

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jbaileyfansite · 9 months ago

Text

Interview with the Los Angeles Times (2024)

“This is where all the cruising happened.”

Jonathan Bailey and I are standing in Pershing Square on a bright, blustery spring afternoon, nearing the end of a homemade queer history tour of downtown L.A.: One Magazine, Cooper Do-Nuts/Nancy Valverde Square, the Dover bathhouse, the Biltmore Hotel and this, the city’s former Central Park, a haven, since before World War I, for “fairies” and “sissy boys,” servicemen on leave and beatniks on the road.

“Is it still happening now?” he asks.

“Probably not as much,” I venture.

“Well, you let me know if it’s happening,” he teases, a mischievous smile lighting up his face.

Bailey understands the uses of the charm offensive. As Sam, the handsome Lothario of Phoebe Waller-Bridge’s delightful pre-”Fleabag” curio, “Crashing”; Anthony, the romantic hero of “Bridgerton’s” second season; and John, the jerk of a protagonist in Mike Bartlett’s love triangle play “Cock,” the English actor, 36, has swaggered up to the precipice of superstardom. With roles in such studio tentpoles as “Wicked” and “Jurassic World” on the horizon, he may just break through. Yet he delivers career-best work in Showtime’s queer melodrama “Fellow Travelers,” as anti-Communist crusader-turned-gay rights activist Tim Laughlin, by leaving behind the self-assured rakes and tapping a new wellspring: soft power.

Tim may be, as Bailey puts it, “an open nerve,” but as it turns out, the devout Catholic and political naïf — who falls for suave State Department operative Hawkins “Hawk” Fuller (Matt Bomer) just as Sen. Joseph McCarthy tries to purge the federal government of LGBTQ people — is formidable indeed.

Stretching from the Lavender Scare to the depths of the AIDS crisis, in scenes of tenderness, cruelty and toe-curling sex, Bailey’s performance communicates that little-spoken truth of relationships: It takes more strength to submit than it does to control. The former demands discipline, courage, trust; the latter requires only force.

“In ‘Bridgerton,’ [Bailey] is like a Hawkins Fuller character — he is very sexy and has lots of power, has that kind of confident charisma that absolutely is not Tim at all,” says “Fellow Travelers” creator Ron Nyswaner.

But any doubt about Bailey’s ability to mesh with Bomer, who boarded the project early in development, was put to bed with the actors’ virtual rehearsal of a meeting on a park bench in the pilot. “‘Well, that’s a first,’” Nyswaner recalls an executive texting him. “I cried in a chemistry read.”

‘Am I inviting people in?’

Bailey grew up in a musical family in the Oxfordshire countryside outside London, and this, coupled with an appreciation for the morning prayers, choir practice and Mass he attended as a scholarship student at the local Catholic school, fed his precocious talents. (“I loved the performance of it,” he laughs. “Not to diminish the celebration of religious process, but I did love the idea of wearing a gown.”) By age 10, he’d appeared in the West End, playing Gavroche in a production of “Les Misérables,” an experience he now recognizes as an encounter with a queer found family — albeit one shadowed by the toll of the AIDS crisis, which peaked in the U.K. in the mid-1990s.

“When I’m asked about my childhood, there’s so much I don’t remember, and I think that’s true of anyone who’s been in fight or flight for 20 years,” he says. “I would have been in a cast of people whose friends would have died in the last seven years. I think of where I was seven years ago. I had all my gay friends then. It’s only retrospectively that I can retrofit a real gay community around me [in the theater], that I just wasn’t aware of [then].”

During the late 1990s and early 2000s, American and British culture presented queer adolescents with a bewildering array of mixed signals. As beloved celebrities came out in growing numbers, and the battle for marriage equality became a central locus of LGBTQ political organizing, the media continued to propagate harmful stereotypes of gay men as miserable, lonely, perverted or worse — and, Bailey remembers, callously turned George Michael, arrested on suspicion of cruising in a Beverly Hills restroom in 1998, and Irish pop star Stephen Gately, who revealed his sexuality in 1999, fearful he was about to be outed, into tabloid spectacles.

No wonder Bailey, like many LGBTQ people of his generation, should feel the “chemical” thrill of “validation and acceptance” during London Pride at age 18, then embark on a two-year relationship with a woman in his 20s.

“Dangerously, if you’re not exposed to people who can show you other examples of happiness, you think that’s the easiest way to live,” Bailey says. “It’s funny. You look back and you can tell the story in one way, which is that I always knew who I was and my sexuality and my identity within that. But obviously at times, it was really tough. I compromised my own happiness, for sure. And compromised other people’s happiness.”

Disclosures about his personal life have become particularly thorny for the actor since the premiere of “Bridgerton,” the blockbuster bodice-ripper from executive producer Shonda Rhimes.

“The Netflix effect does knock you off center completely,” he says, recalling the experience of finding a paparazzo waiting outside his new flat before he’d even moved in. “Suddenly, you do start having nightmares about people climbing in your windows... Even now, talking about it makes me feel like, ‘Am I inviting people in?’”

He is also critical of the media for churning out headlines about the smallest details of celebrities’ private lives, often detached from their original context. In an interview with the London Evening Standard published in December, Bailey described a harrowing encounter in a Washington, D.C., coffee shop in which a man threatened his life for being queer — and, in recounting the experience, offhandedly mentioned the “lovely man” he’d called, shaken, after it happened. Although Bailey acknowledges that the original story handled the subject with aplomb, he felt dismayed that more attention wasn’t paid to the intended warning about rising anti-LGBTQ sentiment: “The only thing that got syndicated from that story was that I had a boyfriend, and it wasn’t true,” he sighs. “It was kind of depressing, if I’m honest.”

Still, Bailey, who once turned down a role in a queer-themed TV series because it would have required him to speed along revelations about his personal life he wasn’t ready to make, is prepared to embrace the power of vulnerability when it feeds the work. Although a member of his inner circle expressed doubts about “Fellow Travelers’” steamy sex scenes, for instance, the actor intuited that they were what made the project worth doing: “I was like, ‘I’m telling you, they are the reason why this is going to be brilliant.’”

‘He’s changed my trajectory in my own life’

To those who would complain about the state of sex in film and TV, “Fellow Travelers” is the perfect riposte. All of it matters, from Tim’s first flirtation with Hawk to the finale’s closing minutes, because the series, at its core, is about the importance of soft power: the strength required to bend, but not break; to adapt, but not abandon oneself; to survive without shrinking to nothing in the process.And depicting that through sex, specifically gay sex, makes “Fellow Travelers” radical indeed.

Bailey understands that baring so much comes with certain risks. When I tell him that research for the story has filled my algorithmic “For You” feed on X (formerly Twitter) with speculation that his onscreen relationship with Bomer has a real-life element, he notes that “shipping” fictional couples and costars alike has long been part of Hollywood fantasy. But he bristles at the implication that he and Bomer are anything but skilled actors at work.

“I would love for people to know that the success of our chemistry isn’t based on us f—. It’s actually about us leaning into the craft,” he says. “It’s a vulnerable situation to be in, talking about it on record. I don’t want to rob people of their thoughts. But I do have a set of values, and as an artist, you don’t need to be f— to tell that love story.”

Underlying that craft, Bailey adds, is the confidence to speak up, as with one scene in “Fellow Travelers” that was adjusted because he said, “I don’t want to be naked today.” He learned to use his voice the hard way: In his early 20s, he recalls, he was once “bullied” on set when “someone was threatened” by him and vowed to himself, “I’m never going to do that to someone. I’m never going to allow that to happen.”

This impulse to direct his influence in support of others has blossomed further with “Fellow Travelers.” On the day of our interview, Bailey enthuses about an upcoming meeting with legendary gay rights activist Cleve Jones and shares his idea for a docuseries recording the stories of elders in the LGBTQ+ community while they are still here to tell them. He describes lying in a hospital bed on set on World AIDS Day, in character as Tim, surrounded by gay men who had lost friends and lovers during the crisis, and finding himself thinking, “What do I want to leave behind?”

“I think he’s changed my trajectory in my own life,” Bailey says.

This is, perhaps, the most common reaction I know to diving deep into queer history — the understanding that we, like our forerunners, are responsible for shaping the queer future, whether in politics, society or art. No one is going to do it on our behalf.

As we stand on the nondescript corner now named for her, I relate the story of the late queer activist Nancy Valverde, who was arrested repeatedly while a barber school student in the 1950s on suspicion of “masquerading” because of her preference for short hair and men’s clothing, and later successfully challenged her harassment by the police in court.

“What a hero!” Bailey exclaims, wondering at Valverde’s bravery. “The thing that’s so interesting with power battles is, ultimately, identity is the thing that gives you the most strength and power in your life, isn’t it?

“Because that’s one thing people can’t take away from you: who you are and how you express yourself.”

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#jonathan bailey #jonny bailey #interviews #interviews:2024 #LA times interview 2024 #LA times #fellow travelers #NEW!

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couchlovers · 25 days ago

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As someone who recently got into Santana Lopez x reader, I got so excited when I saw you write that!!

Hidden Love

masterlist glee masterlist my rules

YN -> your name 4,4k words hope its okay!!

Y/N Hudson never wanted to step into the spotlight. Being Finn’s twin was already enough pressure—constantly compared to her brother, whether on the football field, in the classroom, or now, in Glee Club. While Finn radiated an easygoing charm that everyone seemed to love, Y/N was more reserved, someone who preferred the comfort of blending into the background.

That all changed the day Santana Lopez decided she was interesting.

Santana wasn’t exactly known for her kindness. Quick-witted, sharp-tongued, and devastatingly gorgeous, she was the queen of McKinley’s social jungle—a Cheerio with a reputation for taking down anyone who got in her way. But there was something about Y/N that Santana couldn’t ignore.

It started small: a few snide remarks about how another Hudson didn’t need to be in Glee Club or sarcastic quips about Y/N’s quiet nature. But when Y/N fired back without missing a beat, Santana found herself taken aback—and maybe a little intrigued.

As the weeks passed, the teasing turned into something else. A partnership in a duet that left the entire Glee Club stunned. Glances exchanged during rehearsals. Conversations in the hallways that lingered longer than they should have.

Y/N wasn’t like anyone Santana had ever met. She didn’t try to impress her, didn’t care about her social status, and wasn’t afraid to call her out on her attitude. And that terrified Santana as much as it thrilled her.

But with Y/N standing in the shadow of Finn and Santana hiding behind her walls of sarcasm and bravado, both girls knew that whatever was growing between them wouldn’t come easy.

Could Santana learn to let Y/N in, even if it meant facing her fears about vulnerability and rejection? And could Y/N step out of her brother’s shadow and find the courage to fight for her own happiness—even if it meant risking her heart in the process?

______________________________________________________________________

Y/N Hudson hadn’t planned on joining Glee Club. It wasn’t her scene, and she figured Finn already had that part of high school covered for both of them. But her brother had been relentless, begging her to join after Mr. Schuester’s numbers started to dwindle. It wasn’t like she could say no—Finn was her twin, and if there was one thing she couldn’t resist, it was his puppy-dog eyes.

So there she was, standing awkwardly at the front of the choir room, all eyes on her.

“Everyone, this is Y/N Hudson” Mr. Schue said with his usual enthusiasm. “She’s going to be joining us for the rest of the year. Let’s give her a warm welcome!”

The room erupted in a mix of polite claps and murmurs. Rachel Berry’s hand shot up immediately.

“Excuse me, Mr. Schue, but do we really need another Hudson in the group? No offense, Y/N, but we already have Finn, and while he’s adequate, I’m not sure we need redundancy.”

Y/N bit back a sarcastic reply, but before she could say anything, another voice cut through the room.

“Relax, Berry” Santana drawled from her seat, her dark eyes scanning Y/N with a mix of curiosity and amusement. “Maybe this one actually has talent.”

The room burst into quiet laughter, and Rachel glared at Santana, her lips pursed. Y/N didn’t miss the smirk playing on Santana’s lips or the way her gaze lingered a little too long.

“Thanks, I guess?” Y/N replied, raising an eyebrow at Santana.

Santana leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms. “Don’t thank me yet. You’ve got a lot to prove, Hudson 2.0.”

The rehearsal moved on, but Y/N couldn’t shake the feeling of Santana’s eyes on her. Every time she looked up, there Santana was, smirking like she knew something Y/N didn’t. It was equal parts infuriating and… intriguing.

By the time the bell rang, Y/N was gathering her things when Santana sauntered over, her signature confidence on full display.

“So,” Santana said, leaning against the piano. “You any good, or are you just here to ride your brother’s coattails?”

Y/N straightened, meeting Santana’s gaze head-on. “Why don’t you wait for the duet assignment and find out?”

Santana’s smirk deepened, and for a moment, she looked almost impressed. “Fair enough, Hudson. Just don’t choke when the spotlight’s on you.”

With that, she walked away, leaving Y/N both irritated and oddly intrigued. Whatever Santana Lopez’s deal was, Y/N was determined not to let her get under her skin.

Not yet, anyway.

______________________________________________________________________

A week later, Mr. Schuester stood at the whiteboard with his usual enthusiasm, scribbling the words “Duet Week!” in big, bold letters.

“This week,” he announced, turning to face the class, “you’ll be paired up for a duet assignment. Singing with someone else is all about connection and trust. It’s a great way to grow as performers and as teammates.”

Y/N shifted in her seat, already feeling the weight of Finn’s expectant glance from across the room. She knew he was hoping they’d get paired together, but part of her was desperate to escape his shadow for once.

“And to make things interesting,” Mr. Schue continued, “I’ve already assigned your partners!”

The room groaned in unison.

“Rachel, you’re with Artie. Mercedes, you’re with Sam…” Mr. Schue went on, listing names until Y/N heard the one combination she hadn’t expected:

“Santana and Y/N.”

The room went dead silent for a moment before Santana’s voice broke through. “Seriously? What did I do to deserve this punishment?”

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t stop her cheeks from heating. “Oh, I’m sorry—did you have someone else in mind to terrorize this week?”

A few muffled chuckles echoed through the room, and Santana’s smirk returned. “You better keep up, Hudson. I don’t do mediocre.”

“Neither do I,” Y/N shot back without missing a beat.

Santana’s eyes flashed with something unreadable—approval? Challenge? Whatever it was, it made Y/N’s stomach flip in a way she wasn’t ready to unpack.

Later that afternoon, they met in the empty choir room to rehearse. Santana was already there when Y/N arrived, lounging against the piano with an air of effortless confidence.

“About time,” Santana quipped as Y/N set her bag down. “Thought you chickened out.”

“I was debating it,” Y/N replied, shrugging. “But then I realized I couldn’t let you win that easy.”

Santana raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Cute. Let’s see if you can back it up.”

The two spent the next hour working through their assigned song, a soulful duet that demanded both vocal power and emotional vulnerability. Y/N quickly realized two things:

1. Santana Lopez was ridiculously talented, her voice rich and captivating in a way that sent shivers down Y/N’s spine.

2. Santana Lopez was also infuriatingly good at pushing her buttons.

“Again,” Santana said after their fourth attempt at harmonizing a tricky section.

Y/N groaned. “We’re fine, Santana. It’s not supposed to be perfect on the first day.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t settle for fine,” Santana shot back, her tone sharp. “If you can’t handle the pressure—”

“Stop,” Y/N interrupted, stepping closer. “I’m not Finn. Don’t treat me like I need training wheels, okay?”

Santana blinked, clearly caught off guard by Y/N’s sudden intensity. For a moment, the sharp edge in her expression softened.

“Okay,” Santana said quietly, her voice losing its usual bite. “Let’s take it from the top.”

When they sang the song again, something shifted. Their voices melded seamlessly, creating a connection neither of them had expected. By the time they finished, the room was silent except for their heavy breathing.

Santana turned to Y/N, her dark eyes unreadable. “Not bad, Hudson. You might actually survive this duet after all.”

Y/N smirked, grabbing her bag. “Told you I don’t do mediocre.”

As she walked out of the room, Santana watched her go, the smallest hint of a smile playing on her lips.

______________________________________________________________________

By the time duet day arrived, the choir room buzzed with anticipation. Mr. Schuester had arranged for the performances to happen in front of the whole Glee Club, turning what could’ve been a casual rehearsal into a full-blown event.

Y/N stood at the side of the room, nerves bubbling beneath her calm exterior. She tried to shake it off, but knowing she was about to perform with Santana Lopez—a girl who seemed to radiate effortless confidence—didn’t exactly help.

“Relax,” Santana said as she approached, her tone casual but her eyes sharp. “You’re not gonna blow it. I won’t let you.”

“Wow,” Y/N said with a teasing smirk. “Was that… encouragement?”

“Don’t get used to it,” Santana shot back, though the corner of her mouth lifted in a small grin. She leaned in slightly, her voice dropping low. “Just stick close to me, Hudson. We’ll kill it.”

The moment Santana stepped into Y/N’s space, the nerves faded, replaced by a buzzing energy that made her pulse race.

When it was their turn, the room quieted as Santana and Y/N took center stage. The music started—a soulful ballad with a fiery edge that suited them perfectly.

Santana began the first verse, her voice sultry and commanding, instantly drawing the room’s attention. By the time Y/N joined in, her voice blending effortlessly with Santana’s, the room seemed to hold its breath.

Their chemistry was undeniable. The way they moved around each other, their gazes locking during the chorus—it was electric. When Santana reached out and brushed Y/N’s hand during a particularly emotional line, it sent a visible ripple through the room.

As they hit the final note, their voices soared together in perfect harmony. Santana took a step closer, her dark eyes locked on Y/N, and for a brief moment, the world outside the music didn’t seem to exist.

When the song ended, the room erupted into applause. Finn clapped loudly, a proud grin on his face, while Rachel looked torn between admiration and frustration at being upstaged.

Y/N turned to Santana, still catching her breath. “Told you we’d kill it.”

Santana smirked, but instead of her usual biting remark, she did something unexpected: she grabbed Y/N’s hand, lacing their fingers together as they walked back to their seats.

The move didn’t go unnoticed. Finn’s eyes widened, and whispers spread across the room, but Santana didn’t seem to care.

When they sat down, Y/N leaned closer, her voice low so only Santana could hear. “Not exactly subtle, Lopez.”

“Don’t care,” Santana replied, her smirk softening into something almost shy. “You deserved that moment—and so did I.”

Y/N felt her cheeks flush, but she didn’t pull her hand away. For the first time, she realized that maybe Santana’s confidence wasn’t the armor it seemed to be.

And as Santana gave her hand a gentle squeeze, Y/N decided she didn’t mind the spotlight—not if Santana Lopez was standing beside her.

______________________________________________________________________

The days following their duet were a whirlwind. Between Glee rehearsals, classes, and Finn’s constant questions about “what’s up with you and Santana,” Y/N barely had time to think. Not that it mattered—because every time she saw Santana, her mind was already full of her.

They’d somehow fallen into a rhythm: stolen moments in the hallways, lingering touches during rehearsals, and an unspoken understanding that whatever was happening between them, it wasn’t something either of them could easily explain—or ignore.

One afternoon, Y/N found herself leaning against the lockers, waiting for Santana after cheer practice. The hallway was quiet, most students already gone for the day, leaving just the hum of fluorescent lights and the faint echo of distant chatter.

When Santana appeared, her ponytail slightly messy and her cheer uniform looking a little too perfect, Y/N felt her stomach flip.

“What’re you doing here?” Santana asked, raising an eyebrow but smirking as she approached.

Y/N shrugged, trying to look casual. “Thought I’d walk you to your car. Unless you’ve got some Cheerio-related emergency?”

Santana rolled her eyes but didn’t hide her smile. “Please, like I’d let you waste your time on something that boring.”

As they walked out of the school, Santana bumped her shoulder lightly against Y/N’s. “So, you’re my personal escort now? Should I be flattered?”

Y/N laughed. “I don’t know. Are you?”

“Maybe” Santana replied, her tone teasing but her gaze softer than usual.

They reached Santana’s car, and for a moment, neither of them moved to leave. Instead, they leaned against the hood, the cool evening air wrapping around them.

“Do you ever get tired of it?” Y/N asked suddenly, breaking the comfortable silence.

Santana glanced at her. “Tired of what?”

“Keeping up the act,” Y/N said, her voice quieter now. “Pretending like nothing ever gets to you.”

Santana’s smirk faltered, and for a moment, Y/N thought she’d gone too far. But then Santana let out a soft laugh, shaking her head.

“You’re annoying, you know that?” Santana said, but there was no bite in her tone. “Always trying to figure me out.”

“Maybe I just like knowing the real you” Y/N said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Santana looked at her then, really looked at her, like she was trying to decide something. For a second, Y/N thought she might say something, but instead, Santana reached out and flicked a strand of hair off Y/N’s face.

“You’re a dork” Santana said, her voice softer than Y/N had ever heard it.

“And you’re deflecting” Y/N shot back with a grin.

Santana laughed, shaking her head again. “Whatever, Hudson.” But she didn’t move away.

Later that night, Y/N lay in bed, replaying the moment in her mind. She could still feel the warmth of Santana’s touch, hear the soft laugh she never showed anyone else.

What was this thing between them? And why was it so hard to just say it out loud?

On the other side of town, Santana sat in her room, staring at her phone. She’d typed and deleted the same message at least ten times, her fingers hovering over the screen.

“I think I like you.”

It wasn’t like her to be scared of saying how she felt, but this was different. Y/N was different.

With a sigh, Santana tossed her phone onto the bed and flopped back onto her pillow. Maybe tomorrow she’d figure out what to say. Or maybe, she thought with a small smile, Y/N would say it first.

______________________________________________________________________

For a while, everything felt like a balancing act. Santana and Y/N were careful—too careful. They’d learned how to hide their relationship behind playful banter, stolen glances, and secret touches when no one was looking. But it was only a matter of time before the truth began slipping through the cracks.

It didn’t take long before Sue Sylvester, ever the schemer, noticed the tension between Santana and Y/N. Sue’s sharp eyes had already caught the subtle shifts in their dynamic, and with her usual penchant for stirring up trouble, she wasted no time spreading the word. It wasn’t long before everyone in the Glee Club knew about the secret connection between the two of them.

The whispers started—first quietly, then growing louder with each passing day. Rachel made a few passive-aggressive remarks, Artie shot knowing glances, and even Kurt seemed to have a comment on everything. But none of that compared to the storm brewing with Puck.

Puck, as it turned out, didn’t just resent the idea of them together—he was furious. Furious that Y/N was with Santana, furious that she was slipping away from him.

By the end of rehearsal one afternoon, Puck had had enough. As the last note of their final song echoed through the room, he stormed up to Y/N, his face twisted with anger.

“You and Lopez?” he spat, his words laced with jealousy. “What the hell do you see in her?”

Y/N, caught off guard by the venom in his voice, took a step back. “Puck, what’s your problem? She’s my friend—”

“Friend?” Puck interrupted, his voice rising. “You’re more than friends, and you think she’s just gonna play nice? You’re too damn naive, Y/N. She’ll break you in half, you know that?”

Before Y/N could say another word, Puck shoved her hard into the corner of the school hallway, slamming her into the cold metal lockers. The force of it made her head spin, and before she could catch her breath, Puck’s fist collided with her side. She gasped, the pain shooting up her ribs.

“Stay the hell away from her,” Puck growled, his grip tightening on Y/N’s arm. “I don’t care what you think you have with her, but if you keep this up, you’re gonna regret it.”

With that, Puck let go, shoving Y/N against the lockers once more before storming off, leaving her trembling, bruised, and with a sinking feeling that things had just gone from bad to worse.

Later that night, Y/N stumbled home, the weight of the day pressing down on her shoulders. She tried to hide the pain as best she could, but the bruises were hard to ignore. She dragged herself up the stairs to her room, the exhaustion weighing heavily on her.

But when she walked into her room, she froze.

Santana was lounging on her bed, her legs kicked up, her arms behind her head like she owned the place. She raised an eyebrow as Y/N stood in the doorway.

“What took you so long?” Santana asked, the hint of concern in her voice barely masked by her usual playful tone.

Y/N’s heart sank as she tried to keep the bruises hidden, but it was no use. Santana’s sharp eyes immediately caught the swelling around Y/N’s eyes, the busted lip, the deep purple bruises scattered across her arms.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Santana muttered, sitting up quickly. “What happened?”

Y/N hesitated, not wanting to admit what had happened, but there was no way to hide it. She let out a sigh and finally spoke. “Puck… He doesn’t like that I’m with you. He, uh, he shoved me around a little.”

Santana’s eyes darkened, the usually confident girl now filled with concern and fury. She reached for Y/N’s face gently, her fingers brushing over the bruises.

“I’m gonna kill him,” Santana growled under her breath.

Y/N laughed softly, despite the pain. “You’re not gonna kill him. Just… just help me, okay?”

Santana’s eyes softened as she leaned in closer, her breath warm against Y/N’s skin. “Of course I’ll help you,” she whispered, the usual sarcasm replaced with something deeper. “But first, I’m gonna take care of you.”

She moved to sit next to Y/N, grabbing an ice pack from her bag and carefully pressing it to Y/N’s swollen eye. The tender touch made Y/N’s heart race, a mix of tenderness and the undeniable attraction between them that was hard to ignore.

“You know,” Santana said, her voice low and flirtatious as she applied a gentle pressure to the ice pack, “I think you’ve got a thing for getting yourself into trouble, huh?”

Y/N chuckled, wincing slightly from the pressure. “Maybe I do.”

Santana leaned in, brushing her lips against Y/N’s temple. “Well, if you keep letting people like Puck get in your way, you’re gonna have me to answer to.”

Y/N felt a smile tug at her lips, despite the pain. “You’re not scared of him, are you?”

Santana’s eyes twinkled with mischief as she shifted closer. “Not in the slightest.”

Before Y/N could respond, Santana kissed her gently on the lips, the tenderness in the kiss leaving Y/N breathless. It was soft at first, like Santana was trying to reassure her, but then it deepened, a quiet promise between them.

As they pulled away, Santana kept her face close, their breaths mingling. “Don’t you ever hide from me again, Y/N. I’ll always have your back, got it?”

Y/N nodded, feeling the warmth of Santana’s words settle in her chest. “Got it.”

The next day, after school, Y/N arrived at Glee rehearsal early, hoping to avoid any more confrontations. But when she walked in, she saw Santana standing beside Finn, both of them glaring at Puck, who was already in the room, arms crossed.

“Puck,” Santana said, her voice low but filled with authority, “we need to talk.”

Finn stepped forward, his voice firm. “You lay another hand on Y/N, and I swear to God, I’ll make you regret it.”

Puck, caught between the two of them, looked furious but also uncomfortable. “I don’t care what you think. She’s my friend, and I don’t like seeing her with you.”

Santana didn’t flinch. “It’s none of your damn business who Y/N’s with. You don’t get to put your hands on her. Ever.”

“Yeah, man,” Finn added, his usual laid-back demeanor replaced with something stronger. “You’re out of line.”

Puck’s anger was evident, but as he looked between Finn and Santana, he seemed to realize he was outnumbered. He muttered something under his breath and stormed off, leaving the room in tense silence.

Y/N stood at the back of the room, watching the confrontation unfold. She felt a strange sense of relief wash over her—finally, someone had stood up for her. And it wasn’t just anyone. It was Santana.

As the door slammed behind Puck, Santana turned to Y/N, her eyes softening. “You’re not alone in this, okay?”

Y/N smiled at her, the bruises on her body forgotten for a moment. “I know. Thanks for having my back.”

Santana’s smile was warm, a rare sight that made Y/N’s heart flutter. “Always.”

And in that moment, Y/N knew that no matter what came next, they’d face it together.

______________________________________________________________________

The weeks after the confrontation with Puck had been tense, but also oddly liberating. Santana and Y/N had never been more sure of each other. With Puck staying out of their way and the rest of the Glee Club getting used to the idea of their relationship, it felt like everything was finally falling into place. And with every stolen moment, every whispered promise between them, the connection between them grew stronger.

But nothing was quite as bold as what happened on a crisp Friday afternoon, just after Glee rehearsal had ended.

It was the end of the week, and everyone was gathered in the school courtyard, chatting, laughing, and getting ready to head home. Y/N and Santana had grown accustomed to holding hands in secret, but today, something was different. Y/N felt the weight of the moment, the desire to stop hiding, to embrace what they had, no matter what anyone thought.

Santana, noticing the flicker of determination in Y/N’s eyes, raised an eyebrow, sensing that something was about to change.

“What’s up, Hudson?” Santana asked, her voice teasing yet with a touch of concern.

“I’m tired of this secret,” Y/N replied, her voice steady. “I don’t care who knows anymore.”

Santana’s lips curled into a grin. “You sure about that? Because once we do this, there’s no going back.”

Y/N nodded. “I’m sure. Let’s stop pretending.”

Before Santana could respond, Y/N took a deep breath and stepped forward, pulling Santana into a slow, deliberate kiss right in the middle of the courtyard. It wasn’t hidden, no secret gestures, no quick pecks—just a kiss, deep and meaningful, the kind they’d been holding back for so long.

The world around them seemed to pause. Their friends—Rachel, Finn, Kurt, Artie—watched in stunned silence. Some gasped, others smiled knowingly, and a few even clapped. It wasn’t a grand spectacle, but the warmth and openness of the moment were undeniable.

When they finally pulled apart, both Santana and Y/N were breathless, smiling in that way that only the two of them shared. The world felt right, and for the first time in a long time, there were no barriers between them.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Santana said softly, her forehead resting against Y/N’s. “But I’m glad you did.”

“I wanted to,” Y/N whispered, her heart racing as she looked around at the surprised but mostly supportive faces of their friends. “I want everyone to know who I’m with. I want them to see us, to see you.”

Santana grinned and kissed Y/N again, this time with a little more urgency, a little more heat. The crowd around them murmured, some teasing, some congratulating, but all of them clearly accepting of the couple in their midst. The tension that had once surrounded their relationship had evaporated, and in its place, there was only love and acceptance.

As the kiss broke, Santana turned to face their friends, her hand still entwined with Y/N’s. “So, this is happening,” she said, her voice full of mischief. “Get used to it.”

Rachel, ever the dramatic one, clapped her hands, breaking the silence with a bright smile. “Finally!” she exclaimed. “You two were way too cute to keep this a secret. I’m glad you guys are being real now.”

Kurt and Artie exchanged looks and then nodded. “It’s about time,” Artie said with a grin. “You two are perfect for each other.”

Finn walked up to them, shaking his head but smiling. “Well, I can’t say I didn’t see this coming. But seriously, Y/N, if anyone gives you a hard time again, I’ll deal with it.”

Santana rolled her eyes playfully. “Not like we need anyone to defend us. But thanks, big guy,” she added, smirking at Finn.

Y/N chuckled, squeezing Santana’s hand tighter. “Yeah, we’re good. Nothing’s gonna stop us now.”

They shared a quiet moment, surrounded by their friends, who were all watching with understanding smiles. It was clear to everyone that Santana and Y/N had something real, something strong—and that nothing and no one could break it.

As the day came to a close, the two of them stayed close, walking side by side, their hands never letting go. The PDA wasn’t forced or out of place; it felt natural, like they were finally free to be who they were, no shame, no hiding. Santana stole a kiss here and there, pulling Y/N close whenever the moment felt right, and Y/N couldn’t help but smile each time, her heart swelling with happiness.

By the time they reached the school parking lot, Santana stopped walking and turned to Y/N, her eyes soft with affection. “You sure about this?” she asked again, though this time, her voice was full of warmth, not uncertainty.

Y/N grinned, leaning in for another kiss. “Absolutely.”

And in that moment, surrounded by friends, by laughter, and by the feeling of finally being free to love, Y/N knew—everything was exactly how it was supposed to be. She had found her place, her love, and nothing could ever tear that apart.

#glee #glee x reader #santana lopez x reader #santana lopez #santana lopez x yn

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sissylittlefeather · 11 months ago

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One Shot Masterlist

I decided to gather all of the one shots into a list together with descriptions, so you know what you're getting into before you read it!

What a Lovely Way to Burn

Two words: Angry Elvis. You're at a party together and he catches you talking to another man. Needless to say, he's less than pleased.

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI! There's some dirty smut here, kissing, fingering, oral (both receiving), p in v sex, unprotected sex, lots of cussing, Elvis and reader yelling at each other a lot, him grabbing reader's arm and being a teensy bit violent (if you squint), reader calls Elvis "daddy" in a sexual context at one point...

You're the Boss

You show up in Elvis's room after a show and show him who's boss. The mirror belt plays a starring role.

Warnings: this is absolutely 18+ only, MDNI!!! Cussing, fingering, oral (f & m receiving), p in v sex, unprotected sex (with a stranger), swallowing, teasing, and the reader being pretty dominant. I hope that's everything.

Devil in Disguise

In honor of Halloween, a spooky story featuring army Elvis and you, a vampire who's looking to feed on a young, vital man. But, you need a little help from a friend to really get what you're looking for.

Warnings: 18+ SMUT MDNI!!!! Kissing, cussing, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), a little girl on girl action, threesome (MFF), p in v sex, unprotected sex, creampie, also vampire bites and blood drinking

Power of My Love

You and Elvis are out for a drive when you are overcome with desire. There's only one way to get what you want, and Elvis isn't complaining.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI SMUT, kissing, cussing, oral sex (m receiving), public sex (road head), fingering, teasing, dangerous driving, etc.

Hot for Teacher

An AU where you and Elvis teach together at a local high school. You have a crush on each other and everything is fine until you chaperone a student trip to Fort Lauderdale together.

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI!, kissing, cussing, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), p in v sex, unprotected sex, ejaculation, also some baby talk during sex kinda?

I Can Help

Your husband, Elvis, has been rehearsing late into the night for his upcoming Vegas show. One night he comes home early and finds you in the process of missing him.

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, this is pure smut, kissing, cussing, fingering, masturbation (f), p in v penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie

Make Me Know It

It's 1960 and your boyfriend, Elvis, is just home from the army. However, you know he's been a bad boy in Germany, so you intend to make him sorry for messing around.

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, kissing, cussing, teasing, reader being a little dom, foot action, masturbation (both m&f), references to oral sex, p in v penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, and I think that's all

A Little Less Conversation

This isn't your first time acting, but it is your first time acting with Elvis Presley. He takes you aside to calm you down and is surprised to find it has the opposite effect on him.

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, kissing, cussing, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), p in v penetrative sex, unprotected sex, ejaculation

Baby, Let's Play House

You're stuck in a bad marriage, but your sweet neighbor, Elvis, has no intentions of letting you suffer alone. What starts as an innocent yard work arrangement turns to much more when your husband takes things too far.

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, kissing, cussing, fingering, p in v penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, infidelity, domestic violence (happens "off screen", Elvis is not violent), mentions of infertility

Viva Las Vegas

You've grown up as part of the mafia in Las Vegas. Elvis is relatively new to the game, but he doesn't hesitate to dive in deep when he falls in love with you, the daughter of his biggest rival.

Warnings: SO MUCH SMUT AND VIOLENCE 18+ NO MINORS, kissing, cussing, fingering, oral sex (both receiving), p in v sex, unprotected sex, swallowing, ejaculation, creampie, ALSO GUN VIOLENCE

#elvis presley fanfiction #elvis fanfic #elvis smut #elvis presley fic #elvis presley x reader #elvis x reader #elvis presley x y/n #elvis fic #elvis fandom #elvis fanfiction #elvis presley smut #elvis presley fanfic #elvis x y/n #elvis x you #elvis presley x you #Masterlist

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akookminsupporter · 1 year ago

Note

For those who were surprised or confused or were trying to find reasons on why Jikook enlisted together and *gasp* who will still be together for the next 500+ days, have you watched original content?

Like Run BTS, where JK mostly tries (yet, sometimes fails) to be on the same team as Jimin or helps Jimin (even if they're on different teams), or almost fights one of his hyungs when Jimin gets hurt by a shuttlecock (not on purpose)?

How about the Bon Voyage series, where competitive Jungkook was so happy to lose a game bec he gets to share a room w/ Jimin, or how they were mostly together, and shared food w/ each other? How JK, with a humongous backpack, was so happy to have Jimin as his partner in Hawaii? How about JK waking up early in the morning to hike and get a huge chunk of snow for Jimin? How about them walking while Jimin listens attentively to JK about sand fleas that got stuck at the bottom of his shoes?

In the Soop S1 and S2, sound familiar? The all-nighter duo going at it, drinking, laughing, smashing a mosquito net? How about having a karaoke session, eating ramen, and drinking beer? JK asking a sleepy Jimin if he wanted Haemul kalguksu?

How about the four documentaries? How they end up rehearsing until the end together, how they spend several hours per day? And yet, still wanting to be together even after they finished work? How they eat dinner in one of the rooms and talk? Or how, when one gets overwhelmed/frustrated/disappointed, they seek the other's presence?

How about those Festa videos and Festa special interviews, how they admire and inspire each other to be better at their craft, be better people?

How about the past weverse lives, esp Jungkook's ones? How about listening to other members when they say Jikook are together during this and that?

If people would just listen and look at their pattern, it shouldn't come as a surprise that Jimin and Jungkook will choose each other, especially for major decisions/moments in their lives, because that's what they've been doing the past decade.

Why undergo the complicated process of the buddy system when they would just separate after 5 months? They could have just enlisted individually. These people write lies and essays about Korean's military system, which they have zero knowledge about because it's Jikook. If other members did it, no one would question it.

Instead of worrying about JK and Jimin's safety in the artillery unit (which, quite frankly, seems intense based on what they were operating), solos and the subgroup keep spewing BS. Do you know the mental toll learning how to kill has on a person? And these guys commenting that JK is not smiling on the photo? Smh. I'm so sorry for the word vomit, Rosie. The next several months would be crazier and a lot would be more unhinged, it seems, bec they refuse to acknowledge the truth about Jungkook and Jimin's bond.

I just wish for Jikook and all the other members to come back healthy, physically, mentally, and emotionally.

OPINIONS.

#anon #ask #jkkrs opinions #Preg 72

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space-blue · 6 months ago

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The Acolyte Brendok Re-write

I went ahead and reworked the entire Brendok storyline to flesh out and improve on character development. This rewrite ends up to the same outcomes but is set to be one long episode or two back to back if need be, with a much deeper focus on our star POV character:

This rewrite is very long (5.3k words) so I'm putting it under a cut. If anything is confusing let me know. Some scenes are not fleshed out at all as they're intended to be mostly the way they are in the show.

Thanks to my friends Paula and Vincent who helped craft this plot.

Torbin POV — He's our focal POV character for Jedi sections.

Instead of picking moss for 7 weeks they have been on a hyperspace survey, hopping from blighted world to blighted world, exactly what they expected to find. Torbin makes a deprecating joke about how excited he is to sample new rocks.

They drop out of hyperspace and discover the lush green world of Brendok.

Cockpit scene with the Jedi arguing loudly, strong emotions : excitement, confusion, lots of back and forth with words we and Torbin don't understand, and some of the conversation made all the more confusing by Kelnacca's shyriiwook.

The audience gets to be educated about vergence alongside padawan Torbin. But clearly the Jedi aren't sure this is what it is, and the vergence is made to be a very mythical and improbable thing. Sol argues it must be one, and Indara says he's being far too hasty.

> Establishing early the theme of Sol seeing what he wants to see in things and getting ahead of himself.

Torbin seems excited that they can finally report something significant and go home.

Kelnacca laughs and says something. Torbin is crestfallen and asks "Really?"

Sol, fixed on the world with poorly veiled enthusiasm, says "Of course, we can't pass up such an opportunity. We have all the tools we need as well."

Indara agrees and says they will land and take samples. When Torbin gives her a wounded look, she smiles and says this is definitely the last world on this mission before going home, but they can't not investigate.

They crash land or damage their ship in some way as they come down. They try to call for rescue and find their comms broken. They trigger their distress beacon and prepare to wait. Indara decides to deploy the team collecting samples and data to not waste their time, since they're here either way.

On that first night, Torbin has nightmares. We don't get in them but see him have tremors and kicking.

Montage of how tedious and boring the life is, collecting moss and not finding the clues they expect. They have a camp OUTSIDE their ship (like a campervan extending so they can process samples and cook on fire, etc.) Field biologist vibe, and the adult Jedi all give off that field tech nerd vibe enduring the elements to get stuff done.

Torbin (who is shown rubbing his forehead on occasion and blinking at his samples/at the horizon) is complaining a lot about the feeling that this is pointless, and Sol—who is very excited for the possibilities of a vergence—keeps trying to uplift and reassure him, getting in the way of Indara's training. They have a chat about it like in the show, making it clear that Sol is overstepping, despite it being in good spirits.

Torbin goes and has another nightmare, this time we're in it with him.

He's running through a forest, and spirit/demonic smoky figures are running around him, laughing, cackling. He's being hunted. The trees part before him, shining bright. He comes to a hard stop. When the brightness equalises, we see the vista before him is the coruscant skyline.

Cut to his face, teary-eyed, quivering smile of relief.

An arrow shoots through his throat. He goes to fall to the ground—next cut, the thing that actually hits the ground is an animal, shot there with an arrow by the witches.

(It's a scene transition to daytime in the real world)

Osha POV

Mae and Osha are there, being taught how to hunt. Mother Koril makes them rehearse their lessons on how to poison their arrow tips, and what poison is used for what season, establishing their mentor/student relationship and the future poison name-drop. The witches hunt as a group, and we see them using the smoke power to get ahead of an animal or away from danger. It is shown to be positive and useful.

Mae uses the Force to freeze one of the animals Osha is supposed to shoot and she takes exception to that. She starts an argument between them over how to hunt, saying Mae always does stuff like that and to stop. She wants to prove herself alone. Mae doesn't get it: they are always together so they should hunt together.

A scout crashes the end of the hunt by reporting the presence of intruders further in the forest. Koril is first curious and cautious, but the witch says they seem to be Jedi and Koril goes into panic mode and repatriates everybody home.

The girls bicker the whole way home and wonder what Jedi are like and how dangerous they really are, with the adults too busy hurrying to really mind them.

Their settlement is in a crater/mountain/old mine too, but many of the buildings are made out of local wood. Only the inner chambers and private quarters of the girls and mothers seem to be in the stone buildings. However, LOTS and LOTS of lush carpets and tapestries are everywhere within these areas. Despite the abandoned mine setting, things are warm and cushy. That will also be great fuel for fire later. It gives the witches a strong visual aesthetic. They clearly do a lot of crafts. Visual representations of the Thread abound, and lots of spirals and dot work.

It becomes very clear that the girls are the only children and treated as little princesses.

Koril goes to talk to Aniseya. She reveals the presence of Jedi on the world. Aniseya smiles at her and says 'I know.'

Start of an argument, Koril demanding, 'When were you going to tell me about this?'

Aniseya saying it's fine, she's just keeping an eye on them through the eyes of their weakest member (Torbin). They crashed down in a valley beyond the river and should pose no threat. There's only 4 of them and they seem to be scientists/researchers/academics.

Koril remains angry and says they can't afford to take any risk as the ritual is fast approaching and they can't miss this chance to tie the girls to the coven.

Aniseya has strong words then, challenging Koril over how much she thinks she cares for the girls and asserting she would never endanger them and only thinks about what's best for them.

Here is when the girls come running in, having changed, and Aniseya flips to good mom and feeds them treats. Insert some cute family time together. Here is a good moment to have Osha voice how scared she is of the coming ritual and further the bickering between the sisters. Osha can complain about how Mae got in the way of her hunt, that she won't let her do anything on her own and this isn't resolved when Aniseya interrupts the fight and makes them hold hands, just like in the show.

Torbin POV

It's morning and Sol and Torbin are eating rations in the sun, sitting on crates by the ship.

Sol gives a sheepish look over his shoulder to the ship's entrance, but approaches Torbin asking him if he's OK. He heard him scream early this morning.

Torbin breaks and confesses to his nightmares (and maybe headaches, triggered from Aniseya taking glances through his eyes). He's distraught and Indara approaches, annoyed, thinking that Sol is overstepping again. Kelnacca is on her heels. She arrives in time to hear Torbin say he thinks they're not alone on this planet. He's seen them. He sees them in his dreams. Adds something cryptic like "they live in the mountain".

This should be shot almost like a horror film moment.

The masters exchange looks, but can sense his unease and agree to go investigate. Sure enough, they find proof of habitation.

Torbin looks relieved at the news: it wasn't him losing it. But he's extremely aloof and clearly torn between going to confront these people and ask for hospitality + broker peace, vs. keeping clear of them since his dreams are so ominous. Anyway it's clearly not his call to make and they are very low on resources + have only a distress beacon and hope to send a message to the order.

Emphasise that the knights are more hopeful and open and consider themselves welcome anywhere in the galaxy, highlighting how unusual Torbin's anxiety seems. He looks like he's overreacting as far as the jedi know.

They bang on the door and after an awkward wait, a woman comes out and asks what they want.

They explain they crashed and have low food and no comms, and hope to trade and send out a message/confirm they're being picked up.

The woman frees the way and invites them in.

The vibes are off the entire time, but more in an awkward or uncertain way.

When they are allowed to step in and talk to the mothers, the witches at the door perform a small welcoming ritual, dabbing their foreheads with a dash of white paint. Something intrusive and unconventional. Indara and kelnacca care the least/are used to putting up with weird local stuff, while Sol seems a little put off or wary, and Torbin is outright uncomfortable with being touched.

They go inside, get to be shown around a bit. The witches are very standoffish. Kelnacca strikes off to inspect their craft and is curious about the spirals and chats to an artisan who speaks shyriiwook. Indara is focused on getting a message out. Aniseya insists on sending it themselves (to make sure they don't plot against them). Indara promises them safety though if they could help understand the planet it would be great.

Aniseya plays dumb about the vergence (IDK what you mean?) but says they can answer their questions. Sol starts asking, more and more questions about the planet and the witches (when they arrived, where they landed, was the mine operational when they arrived, etc) making them grow visibly uncomfortable, as it seems like he's asking to figure them out, rather than the planet.

Meanwhile Osha and Mae are spying on them. Mae insist on going back to their room as they were ordered to stay out of the way. Osha distracts her. She says look at the mighty scary jedi. They're not so bad. Sol is smiling as he asks his questions, Indara laughs politely with someone. Kelnacca is now trading food. They aren't that scary and also... There's a boy.

The girls fixate on Torbin, who looks tweaky and uneasy. They nudge each other, comment on his curls and wonder what he's like. Osha spots his lightsaber and points to it. She decides to go have a closer look. Mae insists it's not safe and that they should go back to their room.

Osha goes and pspspshhhs Torbin. He spots them and follows them to a more secluded area. He makes fast friends and shows off his lightsaber when asked. He looks much more at ease seeing kids around.

They start quizzing him with dozens of questions all at once. Mae and Osha have different interests (Osha asking about other kids and what life is like on Coruscant, Mae asking why he's carrying a weapon and can she see it, or something like this).

Torbin, who is clearly good with younger kids, answers them and starts reminiscing about what he left at home. The temple, his classes, his friends... he seems increasingly homesick. Osha asks how many other children there are and is shocked when she learns there's hundreds of them, living equally all together.

The chat goes in the direction of Torbin being the one asking questions and the girls guard is down. They tell him about the ritual they're about to take part in. Maybe he likens it to a knighting and they clarify they will become the leaders of their coven. Torbin asks how come they can become leaders if they're kids still learning. The girls don't really have an answer, but maybe Mae says it has to do with how good they are with "pulling on the Thread". They reveal they are FS that way (maybe pulling Torbin's saber out of his hand with a victorious smirk, which would make Torbin freeze in realisation).

They are then caught. Torbin is dragged away and the girls are forced back into the building. He is made to swear to not speak of the girls to anyone. He does. He gives his word.

The Jedi go back to their ship and very quickly Torbin says they are force users. This immediately clicks for the Jedi. "ah so that's why the vibes were so off. They're witches." sort of realisation.

When asked how he knew, Torbin hesitates but quickly reveals the girls' presence. He says they claimed they too can "pull on the thread", which the older jedi immediately understand to mean use the force.

Sol shows interest and curiosity and some concern. Only two children? Twins? And why are witches hiding them? Again we get to hear more about the Jedi's relationship with force cults via dialogue between Torbin and the masters. They explain to him why some force cults are seen more negatively, and he has only heard of nightsisters.

Torbin is asked for details and mentions what the girls said about being part of a ritual and becoming the coven leaders.

Sol continues to worry and the POV shifts to him.

In the morning he goes to spy on the witches, climbing the side of the walls.

At first he only sees normal life scenes, but then he follows a large group that makes its way to the pit to begin a ritual. They carry a very elderly witch. Then they head to fields set in terraces carved from the rock wall. There he witnesses with increasing distress a death ritual, in which the elderly witch, clearly at death's door but still alive, is levitated between chanting witches with black eyes. She dissipates into smoke.

We experience and see how incredibly wrong and disturbing this feels to Sol. Dune-style montage of his vision/sensation of this, to highlight that her passing into the force was not usual. This is not peaceful or light. Maybe he feels nauseous. Visible reaction.

But then the plants in the fields experience a mad growth spurt (close ups of sprouting seeds, things rotting faster, soil shivering with worms and insects, buds exploding into flowers and seed). Would go with whoompy and base heavy, oppressive soundtrack.

The witches come out of their trance delighted and go observe the results in the fields while Sol makes his shaky exit.

He goes back to Indara extremely concerned and insists on "rescuing" the girls. Torbin feels more guilty now that he spoke up at all. He just wants to leave and is against going to fetch the kids. Outvoted again. Indara accepts the risk seems great and they can use the Jedi looking for kids as an excuse to confront them about this.

Osha POV

The girls are still arguing as they prepare for the ritual. Talk with Aniseya. Very little needs to change. The ritual proceeds and is again interrupted. Make that ritual look a little spookier but remain visibly just as safe.

Torbin POV

We go back to the show's scene of a home invasion by the Jedi, interrupting the ritual for the girls. The girls are hidden but this time Indara says she knows there are children here. Koril glowers at Torbin who tries to make himself very small.

Dialogue remains similar. The girls are brought forward. Sol softens and mellows and clearly is smitten with them and tries to recruit them. Torbin blurts out the mark on Mae's forehead is new, which makes everyone tense up.

Indara insists the children be tested. Osha wants to. Koril argues. Sol argues. The camera pans to Torbin instead and their voices fade out to a hum. His face is twitching. Voices around him accuse him of lying, breaking his word, and being spineless. Intruder, child snatcher, etc. He breaks, blinks, and whispers "I'm sorry", and the moment the word is out, his eyes instantly go black.

Scene proceeds as in the show. The witches promise to bring the girls in the morning for their tests.

Sol is vindicated and extra worried due to the way they treated Torbin. Unlike in the show though, Indara cannot ask for council guidance. She sticks to the rules and says Sol can't be for real, the girls are too old, the witches too weird, they won't let them go. Torbin may add they're here with their mom and it's fine and to please leave it.

As they walk to their two speeders, the celestial bodies overhead separate (the opportunity has passed and the ritual cannot resume)

Osha POV

Chat with their mom about the test with the Jedi the next morning. Girls arguing. Mae says there's no point as they're part of the coven now. Osha saying she isn't. Aniseya tells her that of course she's part of them, even if the ritual wasn't fully completed. She tries to reassure her, says she must lie.

Osha whines and says she wants to show her progress and what Aniseya taught her. Aniseya explains that it would be dangerous and that the jedi have to know as little as possible about their true capabilities. Both girls ask why, as they still both think the Jedi were nice and don't seem like bad people.

Aniseya explains that the Jedi aren't bad as individual people and that maybe all of them here are very kind and good, but the order they belong to is enormous, wields power and controls it. It gets to decide who can use the Thread and in what way. Then she segways into a gentle and kid friendly explanation that many generations ago, their coven already had to flee a world to escape from the Jedi. She may say that they claim to be peaceful, but have gone to many wars against the Sith, and that you can't even call it a war when they wipe out a small coven.

The girls go to the ship and make their promise to lie.

We see Mae lie and tell worrisome things about becoming "one with all" to the masters like in the show.

Then Osha goes in. The same happens but she already knows about other kids and she simply asks what it was like for Sol and is shocked to hear they have babies too and that Sol was given pretty old at 4 yo.

Once she's done with the test she's now not failing, we get to see her try more things. The remote and saber, a little spar with Torbin with sabers on low settings, push-feather with Indara. She's exhilarated and bright eyed and admits she wants to become a jedi. We SEE her be happy with them and ask questions she likes the answers to.

Indara is looking quite displeased with this. Torbin is very uncomfortable standing in the doorway, and Sol is smiling brightly and encouraging Osha, clearly bonding with her through the test.

When Osha steps out Mae already knows she must have told them the truth because she stayed in the ship for so long.

We go back with the witches. Have same scene as in the show with osha deciding she wants to go, Aniseya promising to take her opinion into consideration, the witches being against it, and Aniseya choosing to let her go.

ASIDE :

The reason why the girls are so OP, must become leaders and the witches have no other kids (all relevant to the back and forth with Aniseya and should inform dialogue)

The coven uses group action. Most of the witches are fairly weak individually but can be powerful as a group working as one. The power of many. They rally behind powerful leaders. On their last world they were subject to attack, lost a lot of their children in particular, and their OP leader. Mother Aniseya/Koril were younger then, but the two next OP. They fled to Brendock in hiding, and discovering the vergence, Aniseya created the twins. Seeing their potential they were made as next leader. This would mean leading group rituals and protecting the Coven. They are only as powerful as their best witch, and Mae and Osha are like multipliers.

The witches don't make it sound like this is taboo, and more like Jedi would definitely take the girls away to study them and never return them. They can't afford this because of protection, they are not even done recovering from the damage of their last conflict.

Back to the story, with Mae furious. She is kicked out before Osha leaves the room. We now see her lock the doors and break the pad without anyone knowing, before she runs back into the building to get to Osha.

Torbin POV

The Jedi rescue finally arrives at the crash site. It's just one man in a small ship. He's here to give them a ride back. Torbin wants to go now, Sol wants to stay. The blood test ping right then.

The girls are suspicious to them immediately. Sol concludes they were born of the vergence. Indara suggests they might have been created from it, split somehow. She goes to use the new ship's comm to go as the council for guidance.

They are all in their camping area, half packed up. The new jedi is watching them argue while sipping on his soup, looking confused. Indara comes back out saying the Council said NO.

Osha is too old, and with her alone there's no proof they're the product of a vergence. They said they must come home, and will send another crew later on to mediate with the coven and investigate the matter.

Sol is distressed and says the girls are in danger. Mae is already marked. Osha outright said she wants to come. And if they bring back BOTH girls then the council will see they are a vergence and must be trained/studied. This is where he says he feels OSha is meant to be his padawan.

Indara goes to protest, but Sol runs for a speeder to say he can negotiate with the witches.

Indara yells for Torbin to follow him and stop him. (there's only two speeders and Torbin being lighter will be faster alone to catch up). She and Kelnacca run for the new ship telling the new guy that they'll be right back and please mind the camp. He looks very confused but resigned.

Torbin catches up to Sol outside the coven and begs him to stop. They can finally go home. They don't belong here. Sol ignores him and instructs him to shut off his mind so they don't get to him again and breaks in, Torbin on his heels.

Witches on high alert. Koril and Aniseya rush to the yard to confront the men.

Osha POV

Fight/argument with the girls in their room. They vent a lot of their usual criticism, push and pull over Osha's notebook, and in it Mae sees doodles of Torbin too (bit of a "turning Red" style acknowledgement that girls get crushes, but it also helps establish Osha as turned to other people and Mae perceiving this as a threat.

Now Mae mocks Osha for having known Torbin for barely a day and she's already boy-sick.

Osha rips the book from her hand and goes to hit her with it. Mae reacts by pushing her with the force out of reflex. Osha doesn't block (as she didn't with their earlier training which still can happen when they come home from the hunt). She sends Osha flying across the room, hitting her head. She passes out and doesn't see the lamp breaking on the carpet, igniting it.

Mae freezes, watching the carpet flare up. She tries to tamp it down, screaming Osha's name. She runs to her and tries to lift/drag/shake her but she's heavy and the fire is spreading. She rushes out screaming for help.

Torbin POV

The situation is heating up as Kelnacca and Indara arrive together. Sol has dropped the fact they should be taking both girls if they can and the witches are reacting like this is child snatching and straight up won't surrender Mae.

Indara tries to calm everyone. She's starting to make sense, and Aniseya goes to say something (maybe say she's OK to let Osha go), only for Mae's scream to be heard. She comes out screaming "Fire, fire!"

Sol yells "Osha!" Only for Mae to give him a weird look and say "Osha's trapped in the room!"

Sol blinks his surprise away. The witches turn on the jedi, many voices heard at once, asking what have you done!? Indara says "Nothing, we're all here, we just want to talk."

The witches fire back they are lying/they have a new jedi/he must be here.

Torbin whips out his lightsaber right as the witches begin firing at him.

All at the same moment or in very quick succession:

Koril goes for Indara and is deflected by Kelnacca

Aniseya goes to smoke rescue Mae, only for Sol to freak out at the sight of the smoke effect again and stab her. She still tells him "You could have taken Osha, she chose to go and I was going to let her".

Mae screams and rushes forward, falling over Aniseya. Indara leans over her and says they have to put down the fire, asking where Osha is.

Koril attacks Sol.

Kelnacca and Torbin block arrows while Indara picks Mae up and asks to show her the way.

Osha POV

Osha wakes up alone in a room in flames. To her, she was left for dead and left to burn. She makes her escape as in the show. She can't get to the door due to flames. We hear screams and explosions as the whole place flames up. She makes her way through the tunnels.

Jedi POV

Cut back to Mae and Indara, discovering the room is empty. Indara is calling out for Osha, tries to sense her, says she's not here. Mae has already spotted the open pipe and darts away.

Cut to the Koril vs. Sol fight and Torbin blocking arrows. Things proceed as in the show, with Koril disappearing to smoke and the witches taking over Kelnacca, except Indara stops her efforts to contain the fire and find Osha when she hears Torbin scream.

She winces in shared pain and rushes back out to see the end of the fight with Kelnacca. She intervenes again. This is way more visceral. We actively see depictions of her mental state. When the witches are cut off it's a thread snapping/strong sound design. Indara is shaken, mumbling an "oh no... I... I...' (clearly didn't intend to kill when she severed the bond)

There are still screams about the place as women try to escape the flames and smoke. Several explosions then.

Indara snaps at Sol "Find the girls!" before rushing to Torbin's side. Kelnacca is KO. Torbin is much more grievously injured. A sweating and visibly strained Indara takes a deep breath before trying to use force heal on him.

Sol POV

Sol, running inside to find the girls, stumbles on the witches all dead. Koril is WITH them, to highlight the fact she wasn't dissolving with the smoke effect, but teleporting, meaning Sol must have overreacted to this effect (and now he can guess what Aniseya most likely attempted and we know he knows).

He hears screams and follows them.

Instead of the girls being in a split gangway about to collapse just yelling each other's name, he finds Osha trapped outside the exit of her pipe system. She is still over the same drop, though it'd there is a lot more smoke that obscures the real depth of the shaft (and there's more coughing/strong impression things are burning all around).

Mae appears from the side and at a higher point (she's been tracing the path of the pipes trying to find where Osha would emerge and is getting to her now). She proceeds to move forward despite how dangerous the damage gangplank is, to try and reach Osha.

Sol yells for her to move back. He tries to find a clear pass, crying from the smoke in the air. Mae is saying she's sorry, she's also crying and saying "Mom's dead" to a horrified Osha who asks her "what did you do?!"

Mae says "The Jedi came for you!" as an accusation. "I didn't—" and then the ramp drops a bit, they both scream. Sol yells for them to hang on and gets closer.

Mae gets back up at the edge of the ramp and Osha grabs her hand and joins her. Their combined weight is too much. The ramp breaks and falls down over the pit. They hang on, screaming, and Sol grabs the entire ramp with the Force.

He's crying, blinking, straining. Mae is slipping, her grip on Osha loosening. She has one hand on the ramp and one on Osha's top.

Sol slips in the Force and the ramp falls. Mae and Osha are shaken loose, but Sol grabs Osha with the Force, letting Mae fall (She was behind Osha, grabbing the back of her shirt, so she doesn't really see what's happening in the moment).

Things proceed as in the show, with heavier smoke and fire and Osha being dragged away from Aniseya not just because Sol doesn't want her to see the wound but also because there's real urgency in leaving. They run past the main door, where we can maybe see collapsed bodies. Sol runs to the weird black pit, on the edge of the settlement, the only place still clear of smoke. The music distorts around it, ominous. He looks around, desperate, passed out Osha in his arms.

Light falls on him from above : the jedi ship, piloted by Indara.

Cut to the same scene as in the show with them in hyperspace, except they're not in their own ship but the much smaller rescue vessel. Kelnacca is passed out right next to Osha in a cramped room, and Torbin is sitting nearby, hugging himself, face swollen and eye shut by crusted blood. He's mumbling he's sorry again and again and Indara is actively soothing him/rubbing his back before the confrontation with Sol begins and she decides they have to cover this up.

Argument remains the same : Mae started a fire, everybody died, but we know the mom allowed Osha to be a Jedi, and she's the sole survivor. She also wanted to join, and though they can't exactly prove she was created by a vergence, they have blood samples and she can still be studied while she trains.

Osha screams and cries as Sol holds and hugs her. Camera cuts to Torbin. Pale faced, bloodied. He's finally still, his one good eye fixed dead ahead as we listen to Osha's wailing.

Indara places a hand over his shoulder and whispers, 'It'll be all right. We're going home.'

Cut to Mae POV

Close up of her face, stone grey. Flakes of ash fall on her and coat her as the camera pans out. She's on her back on a lower gangplank in the shaft. She wakes up coughing, confused.

She took a hard fall and is limping and hugging her arm, but she crawls to an exhaust port and emerges in the woods.

She's covered in soot and dried blood. Much, much dirtier than in the show. She turns back around : it's dawn, her coven is still burning/emitting a huge plume of smoke.

She looks around, the camera is far away, making her small and alone in the shot. She asks, in a trembling voice, "Oshie?"

Cut to black.

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