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chahnniesroom · 5 months ago

Text

some loves

pairing: bang chan x female reader

summary: some loves are too hard to bear. years after being trainees together, chan still thinks of you all the time. he has no idea that a collaboration would lead him back to you.

word count: 6.9k

tags/warnings: reader is an independent singer/songwriter, hurt/comfort, angst, mentions of past injuries, a little bit of jealousy, i am still in denial that chan doesn't do lives anymore, hongjoong from ateez is in this fic

read it on ao3 | masterlist

a/n: once again, sorry for the long time between posts. disclaimer that i do not know much about how the music/idol industry works and i did not really do much research. also i'm not an atiny so sorry if my portrayal of hongjoong is not realistic at all. also also i did a lot of the writing on a new tablet doing handwriting with a stylus to text so please forgive any typos or weird formatting! i didn't have a chance to edit much so i may have missed some things.

Chan’s in his studio when he gets the call. At first, he doesn’t even realise his phone is ringing. It’s 2am on a weekday and he’s been working away for a few hours so the rest of the world has just about faded into the background.

He’s both surprised and intrigued when he looks at the caller ID and sees Hongjoong’s name. Chan would consider Hongjoong to be a friend, but they’re not particularly close and he can’t think of a reason that would warrant this late night call.

“Hey hyung,” Hongjoong greets him briefly before getting straight to the point. “What’s your schedule like in the next few months?”

“It’s actually not too bad,” Chan replies after a moment of thought. “We’re just finalising all the music for the next album so it’ll be a bit of time before we get busy with recording and filming for the comeback. What’s up?”

“You don’t have the answer now and I don’t want you to feel any pressure at all, but would you be interested in doing a collab together?”

“A collab?” Chan repeats. “Like, ATEEZ and Stray Kids?”

“We could,” Hongjoong says reluctantly. “But actually, if you’re up for it then I was thinking more like just you and me. I have a couple tracks that we could work off of and I’ve roped in someone to help me with recording, engineering, and production.”

“Who?” Chan asks, interest piqued.

“Not sure if you’ve heard of them, they go by the name HALLA.”

Chan recognises the name instantly. When Chan had first stumbled upon HALLA one late night scrolling and listening to different independent artists, they seemed relatively unknown. However, a little research revealed that they had KOMCA credits on a number of songs for idol groups, some of which had become widely popular. Their personal work was a variety of genres and a majority of the tracks didn’t have vocals, but the ones that did had clever or thoughtful lyrics. There were a couple of different voices featured in the original songs, both of which were smooth and melodic. HALLA has a style that Chan thinks would complement Stray Kids and he’s considered reaching out to them a few times, but was always held back by something.

There was little about HALLA posted on the internet and while Chan definitely appreciates their privacy, he’s curious to meet the person behind all the songs that he enjoyed. There’s just something familiar about all their music that he can’t quite place, something that he wants more of.

“I’m in,” Chan agrees.

“You can take some time to think about it, talk to JYPE to see what their thoughts are too.”

“No need, I’m interested and I know I can convince management to support this.”

“Well that was easy,” Hongjoong says and Chan can basically hear him grinning through the phone. “And for my own pride, I’m going to pretend that you said yes the second I suggested the collab instead of when I mentioned HALLA-ssi.” Chan instantly flushes and is glad that Hongjoong can’t see him over the phone.

“It wasn’t-” Chan begins to protest.

“It’s okay,” Hongjoong interrupts. “I’m also pretty thrilled to get to work with them, so I understand. Didn’t realise you were familiar with their work, but I guess a hidden gem like them can’t stay hidden for long. I’ll send some files over to you and we can organise a time to work.”

—

Chan finds it easy to work with Hongjoong and they make quick progress on the song, writing lyrics and creating a guide within a couple of weeks. Before he knows it, they’ve scheduled a time for Chan to visit KQ Entertainment to record vocals. Hongjoong knows that Chan is keen to be involved in the production and arrangement of the song too, so they also have a couple sessions booked for that, although Hongjoong teases him relentlessly about just wanting to work with HALLA. The worst part is that Chan can’t even deny it.

Hongjoong meets him at the entrance of KQ Entertainment and quickly takes him through security.

“HALLA-ssi is already in the studio,” Hongjoong explains as they wait for the elevator to arrive. “I was getting input on a track that’s been killing me for the past few days.”

“Did they help?” Chan asks, a little surprised that HALLA is involved in more than just this collaboration. He still hasn't had a chance to connect with them other than quick introductions through text a couple of days ago and he's just as excited to meet them as initially.

“Yeah!” Hongjoong grins, eyes curving into little crescents. “HALLA-ssi is amazing. She only had listen to it a couple times before she came up with suggestions on a few different ways to fix the part that I hated. I left her to finish cleaning the song up and then it’s basically ready for review.”

“How did you start working with HALLA-ssi? I’ve been meaning to try to connect with her.”

“It was actually a friend that suggested working with her. For someone who isn’t signed with a label- which I don’t know how nobody has signed her yet- she’s surprisingly well connected within the industry. I’m sure that KQ would be more than happy to have her work with us, but when I hinted at that, she didn’t seem interested.”

“Really?” Although KQ Entertainment is still one of the smaller companies in the industry, most unsigned artists would still jump at the chance to work there since they have a good reputation, especially due to ATEEZ’s popularity.

“I haven’t poked too much, it’s not really my business. I thought I might as well try. I just know that she’s amazing at her job and I’m grateful that I get to work with her at all.”

They turn the corner to the hallway that leads to the recording studio. The door is ajar and Hongjoong opens it, waving his arm forward to allow Chan to walk through first, before following closely behind.

HALLA’s sitting at the desk and the second Chan sees her face, he stops in his tracks.

“Y/n,” Chan breathes.

You look up, startled, and your eyes connect for a split second before Hongjoong crashes into Chan, sending them both tumbling to the ground.

“Hyung,” Hongjoong complains, unaware of Chan’s inner turmoil. “Why’d you stop?”

Chan lets out an apologetic wheeze from where he’s now trapped under Hongjoong, before resting his forehead against the ground. He needs a second to recover.

It feels like a punch to the gut to see you in front of the recording studio’s computer, fiddling with a track. You look different, but somehow it feels like Chan has been transported right back to his trainee days and all that time that the two of you had spent side by side.

It has been years since Chan last saw you. He had found out that you had left JYPE just months after Stray Kids officially debuted, but all efforts to track you down had been futile. You had changed your number and broken contact with all the other trainees. He had asked around a little bit, but everyone he talked to had been unusually cagey about the subject.

Suddenly, everything makes more sense, especially the little that he knows about HALLA.

As trainees, Chan’s favourite moments had been when you had regaled him with stories of growing up on Jeju Island. The two of you had connected early on through your shared love of the ocean. You had promised him that if he ever went to visit in his free time, you would take him on the best trails up to the Hallasan, the shield volcano, and show him incredible views from the highest point on the island. Occasionally, your parents would send you care packages and the two of you would open them hidden away in one of the vocal practice rooms, the sweet citrus of hallabong exploding in your mouths.

You had always spoken about Jeju Island so fondly, of course you would find a way to indirectly pay homage through the stage name that you chose.

“Oppa,” your voice rings out in the silence of the room. Now, Chan knows why the female voice on some of HALLA’s songs had always seemed hauntingly familiar. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” both Chan and Hongjoong say at the same time, then make eye contact with identical confused expressions.

“Hongjoong-ssi, you didn’t mention that the person you wanted to feature on the track was Channie-oppa,” you say, making it clear who you were addressing your concern to earlier.

“It was supposed to be a surprise!” Hongjoong gets up slowly, dusting off his clothes and scratching at the back of his head, still looking bewildered. “I had no idea that you two knew each other, hyung mentioned he hadn’t worked with you before.”

Chan stays quiet, not sure how much you’re willing to share. Hongjoong must not know about your time with JYPE if he can’t piece together how the two of you could have met.

“Oh- I used to- We trained together back in the day,” you explain sheepishly. “I was with JYPE for a little while and all the trainees knew who Channie-oppa was. That was a long time ago though, I didn’t use the name HALLA back then.”

The five years that you trained at JYPE are more than a little while, but Chan forces himself to bite his tongue at your deliberate understatement. You don’t elaborate further and while it’s obvious that Hongjoong isn’t satisfied with your answer, he’s willing to drop the topic for now. You look relieved when he switches the subject to the song.

The three of you finish recording quickly. It shouldn’t be a surprise, the work so far with Hongjoong has been smooth so adding you to the mix has just made things easier, but Chan knows he’s a perfectionist and it often takes him an almost embarrassing number of takes before he’s satisfied. The only delay comes when Hongjoong decides he wants you to sing some of the backing vocals and resorts to actually getting on his knees and begging. Chan doesn’t go so far, but he can’t help but agree that your voice blends with the song perfectly. Of course, he also just wants to hear you sing.

You relent when Chan quietly voices his agreement and it really shouldn't make Chan feel as smug as it does.

It’s not even early enough for dinner when things are wrapped up. Chan is usually eager to finish a schedule early, but he’s reluctant to leave, taking his time packing up his belongings.

Finally, he doesn’t have a reason to stay any longer so he musters up the courage to ask.

“Do you guys want to go grab some coffee or something to eat?”

You and Hongjoong make eye contact before turning to look at Chan guiltily. His stomach churns for some reason.

“I’m sorry,” you wince. “I actually promised to help Hongjoong-ssi with an ATEEZ song and we need to go over the edits that I made before his meeting with the company later today.”

“Oh,” Chan replies, feeling a little relieved. “Right, no yeah I get it. Hongjoong actually mentioned that earlier, but I forgot. My bad.”

You offer an apologetic smile before turning to the computer, opening up a file.

“I’ll see you guys next time, then,” Chan says, starting to back out of the room.

“Of course! Thank you for your hard work and good job today!” you say brightly. Looking distracted, Hongjoong mumbles an agreement and waves goodbye. Unlike you, he’s not staring at the computer monitor though. Instead, his focus is solely on you. Even from his side profile, Chan can tell that he’s enamoured.

Honestly, Chan can’t really blame him, you look comfortable and confident, swallowed up in an oversized hoodie as you start explaining the alterations that you made to the track. Your voice is calm, but warm and you’re careful to start off by complimenting the work that Hongjoong had done previously.

Chan leaves, resolutely ignoring the twisted feeling that’s back with a vengeance and any thoughts of what the cause might be.

—

Chan can’t sleep. His thoughts are all about you, what you’ve been doing the past few years, what happened to you at JYPE that made you leave, and mostly trying to remember how and why your relationship with him slowly fell apart.

That’s the hardest part. In the darkest time of his life, when Chan had been discouraged and disheartened, you had joined JYPE with a brightness and enthusiasm that gave Chan the motivation to continue being a trainee. He had adored you. He still does.

In those last few months before the survival show had been filmed, Chan’s relationship with you had gone from being everything to nothing. It happened in the blink of an eye, and Chan had never understood what caused you to withdraw so quickly and thoroughly. The two of you had gone from spending almost all of your free time together to you avoiding him at the company, pretending not to hear when he called out your name or tried to get your attention.

The regret of letting you slip away has always eaten away at him, but now more than ever.

Of course, at the time it hadn’t felt so simple. The survival show was Chan’s first serious chance to debut, and not just that, but the weight of having eight other people’s careers depending on his leadership took a toll on all his other relationships. Your absence in his life still hurt, but Chan had lots of practice losing people. He had coped in the way that worked best in the past, throwing himself headlong into producing, training, anything to keep himself from wallowing in his feelings.

Chan doesn’t have any schedules for today, but he still heads to the company. He knows this isn’t the healthiest way to deal with things, but he doesn’t know anything else.

When he arrives, Chan just barely manages to catch a glimpse of a few familiar faces. He calls out before he can think better of it, jogging slightly to catch up. Sana, Momo, and Mina watch curiously as he approaches. He knows that Twice also aren’t in a busy period of the year, so he doesn’t feel guilty delaying them.

“Sorry to bother you all. Sana-noona, I was just wondering if we could chat?”

Sana makes brief eye contact with the rest of the girls before agreeing and waving them to go ahead of her. She follows behind Chan as he leads them into his studio, clearly interested in determining the reason behind this atypical meet up.

“What’s up, Channie?” she asks once the door is closed behind them.

Chan tries to think of the best way to start, not wanting to just outright ask, but not knowing how to subtly steer the conversation into the right direction. Finally, he abandons trying to be casual and just blurts out, “Do you remember Y/n?”

“Of course I do,” Sana says, sounding amused at the sudden mention of you. “You both had reputations for being veteran trainees. I mean, other than Jihyo.”

“I was always surprised that she never debuted,” Chan admits. “I just thought it would happen eventually and I was so shocked to find out that she had left. I didn’t- I don’t understand why she gave up on something she wanted so badly.”

“Give up?” Sana asks, sounding like she’s offended on your behalf. “Why would you say it like that?”

“What do you mean? It was like she was there one day and gone the next, I just assumed that she had enough and quit. Nobody seemed to know anything about it. I never found out why and it’s been kind of killing me.”

“You didn’t hear what happened?”

“What- something happened? To her?” Chan swallows hard, suddenly feeling unwell.

“It- I thought that you of all people would know-”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing, but- you never talked to her about it? You knew her better than any of us.”

“Noona, I didn’t know that she was gone until months later. She obviously didn’t want to talk about it to me, I never reached out at first. When I finally did, her number had been changed. What was I supposed to do?”

“I- It’s better if you were to hear it from her. I don’t know the full story and you know how things can be distorted through gossip. And you especially must know how dangerous that can be.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You really have no clue? The two of you were inseparable…”

“Please,” Chan pleads.

“You know how it is in the industry, you were so close, of course there were rumours…”

It suddenly clicks.

“But we were just friends! And the dating ban-”

“Chan, you know nobody actually sticks to those, right?”

“But really, we were never-”

“I believe you,” Sana says, carefully. “But you know that to management that it doesn’t really matter whether or not anything was actually going on. To them it’s all about the optics. A perceived relationship is just as dangerous as an actual one.”

“Management…” Chan repeats, his mind racing. “They never mentioned anything to me though.”

“You never found it suspicious? You two are extremely close and out of the blue she suddenly stops talking to you, then right after the two of you stop hanging out, you’re chosen for the survival show? Someone must have talked to her at some point. Maybe not management, but for sure someone.”

“You think that’s why it took so long for me to debut?” Chan asks, even though he already knows the answer.

“It was a liability,” Sana explains. “To have a dating scandal so early on? Neither of your careers would survive. It’s painful and a terrible part of the industry but it’s true.”

“And.. Why she left, you know about that too?” Chan pleads.

“I think I’ve said too much already. I know that it’s hard, but some things are really personal.” She pauses for a moment. “What brought this on, anyway? You haven’t mentioned Y/nnie in years.”

“I can’t say much, but I- I saw her today, got to talk to her, found out what she’s been up to.” Sana gasps. Chan continues. “It was so weird to see her after so long. In the back of my mind, I had always wondered, but…”

“I’m glad that you two got to reconnect,” Sana says gently. “The two of you cared about each other a lot, that much was obvious. Talk to her, I think at the very least you’ll be able to find peace about what happened.”

“Noona-” Chan reaches out and pulls Sana into a tight hug. “Thank you for telling me. I appreciate it.”

“Of course. I’m sorry that it took so long for you to find out.”

—

A few days later, Hongjoong schedules another session to work on the song. Leading up to it, Chan is both looking forward to it and nervous, not sure what to expect. Although he still really wants to know what happened to you all those years ago, he’s scared about what he might learn and any part he might have had in it.

After a sleepless night, he ends up arriving almost 15 minutes early. This time, Hongjoong isn’t waiting at the building’s entrance. Instead he had let him know a few days before that Chan could just sign himself in and had sent him the name and location of the studio that was booked. When Chan reaches it, he can make out conversation from inside.

“HALLA,” Hongjoong can be heard through the studio doors, which aren’t fully shut. His tone is petulant and much more casual than it was previously. Chan wonders how much time the two of you have spent together between then and now and he almost misses the next thing that Hongjoong says. “You never told me that you were a trainee before.”

That stops Chan in his tracks, interested in how you’ll respond.

“It was a long time ago.” Your voice is faint. You’re still nice, but Chan can tell that your voice is stiffer than usual. “It doesn’t really matter now.”

This time, Hongjoong doesn’t let it go.

“What happened?” he prods.

“Just drop it,” you warn him. “It’s the past, forget I told you in the first place. Nothing ever came of it anyway.”

“Y/n-” Hongjoong changes tactics, the nagging tone replaced with a quieter, more serious one. You sigh.

“It didn’t work out. Obviously. I’m just not idol material.”

“Oh come on, I don’t believe that for a second. Your producing is good enough that I know for sure you’ve been getting offers to work with more companies than just KQ. When you direct during recording, you can hit every note without any warm up or practice. And I’ve heard your original songs, you must have been considered for both the position of lead rapper and lead singer as a trainee because there’s no way that anybody would let your talent go to waste.” Hongjoong is breathing hard by the end of his rant and Chan can see that this is something that has been bothering him for a while.

“It’s okay, Hongjoong-oppa.” Your voice is gentle, like you’re trying to comfort him. “I’m happy with what I have right now. Really. I’m grateful for all the freedom I have. Getting to work on any project I want and experiment with my music without having to deal with the bureaucracy and politics of the industry? Having that independence is precious to me. I wanted to be an idol for a long long time. But even though that specific plan I had didn’t work out, it doesn’t mean I’m not happy with what I’m doing.”

Hongjoong stays quiet for a while.

“Do you think that if you had the opportunity to debut as an idol now, you would?” he finally asks.

“Oppa, it’s not possible. I can’t dance, I’m too old-” you protest.

“No no, just hypothetically. Like if someone walked into the room and handed you a contract and said that if you signed it in an hour then you’d be able to debut.”

“I- I don’t know.”

“What’s your gut feeling?”

“I think I left that dream behind, I don’t know if I want to go down that path again. I don’t think I have it in me.”

“I’m sorry,” Hongjoong says after another pause. “I shouldn’t have questioned you so much, you shouldn’t have to justify your decisions to me.”

“No, it’s fine. It seems strange, right? For me to be an artist in Seoul and not want to get signed, it's only natural for you to be curious. But I learned a lot when I was a trainee and I learned even more after that and I can say with certainty that this is what I want.”

Chan takes that opportunity to knock on the studio door and push it open.

“Hey, hope I’m not interrupting,” he says, as if he wasn’t just eavesdropping on their conversation and purposely chose when to cut in. “Sorry, I’m a little bit late.”

“Hey, no problem man,” Hongjoong says. “We haven’t had a chance to do anything yet, so you’re right on time.”

“Good to see you,” you chime in. “I think this should be pretty quick so let’s get started!”

As you predicted, it doesn’t take long before a majority of the song is finished. Normally, Chan would be keen to stay involved until the very last detail is finalised, but he trusts you and at the end of this day, it’s Hongjoong’s song so he’s happy to give him the final say.

At the end of the session, Chan once again uses the opportunity to try to catch you alone. The two of you are side by side, packing your bags and Chan asks if you have any plans for the rest of the day. You confirm that you're available and Chan is about to suggest that the two of you take the time to catch up when Hongjoong interrupts.

“Oh, Y/n-ah,” he says. “I was actually hoping to get your input on something and I didn’t have a chance to ask you earlier. Can you please stick around for a bit? Sorry, hyung.”

Hongjoong sounds so sincere that Chan almost doesn’t feel annoyed that he’s stealing all of your time and attention. Almost, because at the end of the day, Chan’s only human. Even though he knows he has no right to feel possessive over you, he can’t stop the petty jealousy that bubbles up inside of him. At this point, there’s no denying the emotion.

Just like the previous session, he leaves alone, heading directly to the studio. Hours later, his breath catches when he checks his phone and sees that you’ve texted him.

[Received - 8:04pm]

Channie-oppa~

[Received - 8:04pm]

This is Y/nnie

[Received - 8:05pm]

Sorry about earlier, I have a contract with KQ Entertainment and work comes first :/

[Received - 8:09pm]

But I’m free now! You still interested in catching up?

Chan stares at the messages until it feels like they’re burned into his retinas. Logically, he knew that you had his number, the two of you were in a group chat that Hongjoong had set up, but this was your first time messaging him privately. The first time you had reached out in years. A precious opportunity that he never thought that he would have. He doesn’t want to mess this up.

He’s also shocked to see you texting so casually. Although the two of you have been comfortable in person, he wasn’t sure that it would translate to one-on-one conversation.

[Sent - 8:10pm]

Hey Y/n!

[Sent - 8:11pm]

No worries at all, I understand. I’m the same way too

[Sent - 8:13pm]

I still wanna meet up… but I’m all the way back in Gangdong-gu 😅 It’d be a bit of a trek for you if you're still at KQ

[Received - 8:13pm]

Gangdong-gu?

[Received - 8:14pm]

Ohh JYPE

[Received - 8:14pm]

My bad, forgot that you guys moved

[Sent - 8:15pm]

Yeahhh

[Sent - 8:15pm]

Headed straight back to the company after we were done, sorry

[Received - 8:18pm]

Well… If you’re willing to wait then I don’t mind. KQ is close to a metro station anyway

[Sent - 8:18pm]

Wait, really?

[Sent - 8:18pm]

No no no, don’t take the subway

[Sent - 8:18pm]

I’ll send a driver. They’re gonna pick you up in 20 min

[Received - 8:19pm]

Wowow

[Received - 8:19pm]

Private driver?

[Received - 8:20pm]

You’re a real superstar now haha

[Sent - 8:21pm]

alsfjshkafs noooooooo

[Sent - 8:21pm]

It’s just faster

[Sent - 8:21pm]

and safer

[Received - 8:22pm]

I’m not complaining

[Received - 8:22pm]

but I’m going to get your autograph when I see you

[Received - 8:23pm]

If I sell it then I can probably afford my own private driver 🤭

[Sent - 8:24pm]

Knew it

[Sent - 8:25pm]

You’re just using me for my fame

[Received - 8:26pm]

Ah you got me this time

[Received - 8:26pm]

*Your fame, your talent, and your good looks

[Received - 8:27pm]

Even tho you were the one that said you wanted to meet up

[Received - 8:27pm]

Hmmm maybe you’re the one using me?

Chan listens to his phone as it continues to vibrate from where it’s lodged in between two of the couch cushions after he threw it across to the opposite side of the room. His face is buried in his hands and flaming red. He feels both giddy and terribly embarrassed.

Chan’s no stranger to flirting, he’s experienced his fair share being on either side through interactions with the members and with Stay, but he forgot how flustered he was being on the receiving end of your teasing. The part he never understood is that your playful tone always gave way to sincerity. Even when the two of you would joke around, he could always tell that you meant every comment that you made about Chan being talented or attractive and that flattered him almost as much as it baffled him.

[Received - 8:32pm]

?? Speechless that I caught on?

[Received - 8:36pm]

I think your driver has arrived… Otherwise I’m being kidnapped

[Received - 8:40pm]

Don’t think I would survive a horror film… I got into the car with no questions asked

[Received - 8:42pm]

It was nice knowing you I guess

When he realises how much time has passed, Chan grabs his phone and runs down to the back entrance of the company. Luckily you haven’t arrived yet and he takes the time to reply to your messages.

[Sent - 8:53pm]

Sorry, lost track of time

[Sent - 8:53pm]

They’ll drop you off at the back door, I’ll meet you there so you don’t have to get signed in or anything

[Received - 8:54pm]

Don’t think you’re getting away with ignoring my other texts

[Received - 8:55pm]

But thanks

[Received - 8:55pm]

Is this back door, the famous one that only allows in authorised people?

[Received - 8:55pm]

I’m honoured

Chan rolls his eyes at your cheesy reference and is in the middle of typing up a response when he sees the car pull up. You step out cautiously, then brighten when you see where Chan’s propping up the door.

“Hey,” Chan greets you. “Glad that you made it safely.”

“Thanks for the ride,” you say, looking around curiously as Chan leads you to an elevator that takes you to the rest of the building. “So this is the new and improved JYP Entertainment. I’d say that it looks the same as before, but I never got the chance to come in.”

“Yeah,” Chan says, rubbing a hand against the back of his neck as he walks. “I mean it’s pretty nice, but at the end of the day a practice room is a practice room and that’s where we spend most of our time.”

“Hmm I think we might have to agree to disagree on that one. You have your own studio don’t you?”

“Ah, kind of. It’s technically a shared one, but practically I’m the only one that uses it unless we’re out of the country for a long time,” Chan confirms.

“Seems a lot better than what we used to have! Do you remember when we used to cram ourselves into that tiny room that barely even fit two chairs and a table?”

“I almost forgot about that, it was so terrible! In the summer it would get so hot that we’d keep the door open-”

“And then someone would come yell at us because we’d be playing music too loud-”

“I remember begging management to install a portable air conditioner on multiple occasions, but they always refused.”

“Of course! Even if they weren’t so stingy, there weren’t any windows leading outside in there, how could they install it?”

“Is that why? I always thought they just wanted us to suffer.”

“That too,” you giggle for a moment, before your smile fades. “But they weren’t totally unreasonable. Management has a different perspective than us, sometimes they know better than us because of their understanding of the industry. They can see things that we don’t.”

It’s clear that you’re no longer talking about air conditioning anymore. A lump seems to have formed in Chan’s throat when he recalls his conversation with Sana. Luckily, the two of you have just arrived and Chan forces himself to smile.

“We’re here,” he says, opening the door and motioning for you to enter ahead of him. “Welcome to Channie’s Room!”

“It’s cute!” you say as you step in. “Very… neat. It’s actually more spacious than it looks.”

“Oh,” Chan says, faltering in his steps for a second. “You- you’ve seen my studio?”

“In case you didn’t realise, you go live every week from said studio. I think at this point everyone in the K-pop industry and every K-pop fan has seen it,” you tease.

“Right, yeah. I didn’t- I wasn’t sure how much you kept up with that kind of stuff,” Chan stammers.

“K-pop or do you mean specifically Stray Kids?” you ask, tilting your head slightly.

“Either I guess," Chan shrugs.

"I will admit that it took me a while to get back into it," you say slowly. "I wasn't... in the best mindset after I left." Chan stays quiet, sensing that you're not quite finished. "I know that I disappeared and I am sorry for not reaching out. I wanted to, but I also didn't know how. I know that I hurt you. That it was cruel to avoid you, not reply to your messages, ignore your calls. I had my reasons why, but it doesn't excuse the pain that I caused, and I'm sorry for that too."

“I think,” Chan swallows hard. “I think that the most difficult part was that for the longest time, I didn’t know why. I didn’t know what I did wrong. I asked Sana about it finally, after I saw you again. And I just felt so stupid to realise that it was obvious to everyone except me."

“I’m sorry,” you say again. “I wanted to tell you, of course I wanted to. But I also knew you. If I had told you that us being together was preventing your debut-”

“I wouldn’t have cared,” Chan finishes your sentence for you, starting to understand. “I would have done anything to keep you by my side.”

"Even if it meant throwing away your career," you say softly. "I couldn't let you do that to yourself. You worked so hard, how could I live with being the reason that you were stuck in the training rooms? You belong on stage, making music.”

"The part that I still don’t get though is why you left? You should have been able to debut as well, I know it."

“Ah,” you say wistfully. You look around and grab onto the pillow that’s on the couch beside you, fidgeting with it as you figure out what to say next. “You know, I actually was supposed to debut.”

“What? How come I never heard about it?” Chan feels a pang in his chest. All these years ago, the two of you had promised that the other would be the first person that they would tell if they ever found out that they had the chance to debut. It seemed that neither of them had kept their promise.

“It was supposed to be a secret project. JYP wanted to see how successful a surprise debut announcement would be. You should have seen the NDAs that they made us sign.” You shake your head, letting out a huff of air. “It turned out to be a good decision because it meant they could cancel it without anyone knowing that we existed in the first place.”

"Who was in the group?" Chan asks.

"There were five of us. I think you know all of them, Sumin, Ryujin, Sojin, and Hyowon," you list. You're right, Chan is either familiar with or has heard of all the girls that you mention. It doesn't make sense though, the group was filled with talented individuals and Chan can't think of any reason strong enough to lead to disbandment. Even more baffling is that of the five of you, only Ryujin ended up staying at the company long enough to join the lineup for another group.

"And they just cancelled it out of nowhere?"

“No... It was- I know that for any idol, preparing for debut is tough, but I think that in some ways, it’s especially brutal for the girl groups," you say instead. Chan doesn't question you further, knowing that you must have a point that you're trying to make.

“How so?” Chan has an idea, he’s seen what the female trainees went through, the differences in how they were evaluated and criticised. But he wants to hear it from you, wants to understand what you’ve been through.

“The visual aspect feels like it’s more heavily emphasised than our talent or skills. We were measured for our music video outfits the second they finalised the concept. It was really early on, but at the time I thought it was so exciting and fun that I didn’t question it. I think that all of us were so thrilled by the thought of debuting that we didn't think anything of it. We did our final fittings for it a few weeks before filming and they had made them all a size too small, everything was just a little bit too tight. They didn’t outright say it, but it was implied that they weren’t going to alter them. It was a choice to lose weight or our chance to debut was gone. We were devastated and angry and eventually just resigned. If that's what it took then I would do it. We dieted like crazy for the time leading up to filming,” you laugh, but it's in disbelief, the sound is hollow.

Paired with what you’re saying, it makes Chan want to burn the whole world down. He doesn't say anything, not sure if he can even open his mouth without letting his rage escape, something that you don't deserve.

“We were practising, like always," you continue. "There was a tricky step that needed to be fixed by the next day when we’d be recording, a flip that we hadn't quite mastered. I was the smallest one on the team, so I was the one being flipped. It must have been like 3 or 4 in the morning, we were all tired, hungry, and nervous about filming. Honestly, I don't quite remember what happened, it was all a blur. There was just this feeling that something went wrong and then pain."

You roll up the pants on your left leg and show off the skin there. Chan has to hold back a gasp at the sight. Even though it’s long healed, the scarring is extensive and obvious. Chan can't imagine how much it must have hurt.

“I broke my ankle in two places and sprained my wrist. I couldn't believe it, five years of my life just gone in an instant. It took months before I could walk and even longer before I could dance again. Even now, I can't dance anywhere close to the way that I used to," you say with a watery smile. “Sojinnie had a concussion from the fall and Suminnie dislocated her shoulder, I must have knocked into them or fallen onto them or something. What could we do? Three out of the five of us were out of commission, there was no time and no budget for a group that hadn’t even debuted to find replacements or re-record and re-film everything. I woke up after surgery and they told me that they were sorry, but my contract with the company was over. That someone had helped me pack up all my things in the dorm. I went back to Jeju-do as soon as I was released from the hospital.”

"I- I'm sorry that I didn't know," Chan says, clearing his throat roughly when his voice breaks partway through the sentence. " I wish that I could have been there, to help or comfort you. I should have-"

"Oppa," you respond gently. "It's okay. I didn't tell anybody what happened and the company also kept things quiet. I'm glad you didn't find out at the time. You had other, more important things to focus on, I didn't want to distract you from that."

"You're not a distraction," Chan says incredulously. "You're important to me, I would have dropped everything to be with you in such a difficult time."

"And that's exactly why I couldn't tell you. You've always been too good to me, Channie-oppa," you sniffle. "Look at you now! I'm so always proud when I think of how far you've come."

Chan lifts a trembling hand and carefully cups your face, using his thumb to wipe away a tear that has started making its way down your cheek. He hears your breathing hitch, but you don't object to his touch. If anything, you melt into it.

Chan takes the opportunity to wrap his arms around you, bringing you close. The gesture breaks the dam of tears that you must have been holding back. Chan rocks the two of you back and forth gently, just letting you cry and trying to surreptitiously wipe away his own tears. It takes a few minutes before you calm, taking huge shuddering breaths that break Chan's heart almost as much as your sobs had.

"I'm sorry," you say with a voice thick with emotion.

"Hey, no," Chan reassures you. "There's no need to apologise. Are you feeling better now?"

You nod slowly, head still pressed against Chan's chest.

"I think- I think I just missed you. I always thought it would get easier, not having you in my life, but it never did."

At your words, Chan can't help his arms from tightening, squeezing you close.

"I finally found you again," he says. "And this time, I promise that I won't ever let you go."

read it on ao3 | masterlist

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noneorother · 7 months ago

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I bought Aziraphale's Bible so you don't have to.

Am I insane? Yes. Was it worth it? Maybe. In most* of both season 1 and season 2 of GO, there's a very specific Bible on a bookstand next to Aziraphale's desk. It's a vintage illustrated plate book by Harold Copping, known as the Harold Copping Bible, published by the religious tract society in London in 1910. It features some of the most well known Old Testament stories, summarized and annotated by the Bishop of Durham at the time, and illustrated by Copping, who was freshly returned from a sojourn in the middle east. Ironically, It was meant as a lay-person's version of a comic book, short, exciting by use of exotic illustrations, and easy to read.

But my (expensive) gain is now your gain! As I've collected here every visible page in both seasons for your reading and viewing pleasure.

Season 1: All episodes Adam & Eve Genesis iii (1:3) / HCB page 10

Season 2: Episode 1 Joseph known to his brethren Genesis xlv (1:45) / HCB Page 28

S2E1 14:21, S2E1 17:41, S2E1 39:45

Season 2: Episode 2 Jacob's vow Genesis xxviii (1:28) / HCB Page 22

S2E2 5:49

Season 2: Episode 2 Joseph known to his brethren Genesis xlv (1:45) / HCB Page 28

S2E2 13:38 (see S2E1 above)

Season 2: Episode 2 The Brazen Serpent Numbers xxi (4:21) / HCB page 36

S2E2 16:12, 43:40

Season 2: Episode 2* Bible on the desk, Magazine on the stand Annuel L'art Pour Tous, Cover (1861-1880 most likely)

S2E2 22:10

The French L'art pour tous industrial design periodical will have to be a story for another post. For now, just enjoy this 1880 edition copperplate of cherubs discovering a microscope...

Season 2: Episode 2 Imaginary page from HCB, Job KJV Job (18:1) / HCB N/A

S2E2 22:29, S2E2 40:05 Obviously, the plate illustrations and text look different here than in the real bible, because they were created for the show. But there are a few more particularities here. For one, this layout with the thin grid around the text, as well as the paragraph symbol next to the first title, indicate that this would have been a printer's proof copy, not a finished book. It shows you the layout grid and can be annotated for changes. Second, there seems to be a war going on between fonts. Where the "chapter" of Job begins, we get a font and a style similar to the original bible, which gets rudely interrupted by a dropped capital (from the real book) and a Gothic-style font/verse numbers like in the original King James version of the printed Bible.

Season 2: Episode 3 The Brazen Serpent NUMBERS xxi (4:21) / HCB page 36

S2E3 1:18 (see episode 2)

Season 2: Episode 5 By the Rivers of Babylon Pslam cxxxvii (19:137) / HCB page 52

S2E5 21:20

Season 2: Episode 6 Bible missing, L'art pour Tous on the stand Annuel L'art Pour Tous, Cover (1861-1880 most likely)

S2E6 10:21, 17:21, 18:15, 34:28 (see episode 2)

Season 2: Episode 6 Closed HCB, L'art pour Tous on the stand behind HCB page 0

S2E6 37:58, 44:20, 48:08

#good omens 2 #art director talks good omens #good omens meta #go season 2 #go meta #good omens season 2 #good omens season two #good omens #go2 #good omens prime #aziraphale #crowley and aziraphale

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ramblings-of-a-chaotic-neutral · 5 months ago

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Hello again everyone! It's time for another Merlin au! This time featuring Uther's propaganda and a healthy dose of misunderstandings and pain! :D

This au was inspired by an idea that I pitched in a reblog of one of @tamaha's amazing posts! (Also, shoutout to my awesome mutual @achillesuwu, since you asked to be tagged when I wrote this! :) ) You can find that original reblog here!

EDIT: You can find part two of this au here!

In canon, we know that Uther had children drowned for using magic, and that most of those children were likely warlocks who were born with their magic. However, we also know that most people in Camelot believe that magic is a choice and that it's impossible for someone to be born with it, so how did Uther justify to his people both the existence of child warlocks and the killing of children for something that they had no control over?

Well, Uther utilized his propaganda to justify killing young warlocks. He found some ancient text that hypothesized that warlocks got their powers from being reborn demons, and he used those very shoddy sources to justify his actions.

He spun stories about how warlocks looked human, but weren't human at all. He told the people that while those warlock children might have looked like regular humans, they would grow into powerful demons that would hunt down regular humans and eat their souls to gain more power.

Uther's propaganda campaign was successful, and soon, warlocks were some of the most feared magical creatures in Camelot. The people were terrified at the thought of a beast that could consume souls and blend in among them, unable to detected until it was too late.

Warlocks were a regular element of the nightmares of all of the children in Camelot, who would jump at every shadow and wonder if it was a warlock, there to devour them. Arthur was among those children, lying awake late at night, trembling with fear at the thought of any person he passed on the street being a warlock who would eat his very soul, denying him any afterlife and instead turning his soul into more magical power for the warlock.

And fast forward to some point after Arthur's become king, Merlin has a pretty painless magic reveal. Arthur and the knights were out hunting, they all get ambushed by bandits, Arthur takes a bad hit that would probably be fatal, but Merlin rushes to his side and, without hesitation, uses magic to heal Arthur's wound.

Arthur was, of course, very upset to learn that his manservant and best friend has magic, and they have a big argument over it, but no one physically attacks anyone (despite Gwaine's threats to kill Arthur and the rest of the knights and run away with Merlin).

So, everyone endures a rather tense and awkward ride back to Camelot, where Merlin is the recipient of many irate glares from Arthur and reassuring looks from the knights. When they reach Camelot, Arthur bans Merlin from his presence until he calls for Merlin again. He says that he can't stand the sight of Merlin at the moment, but Merlin will owe him a full explanation later. Merlin tearfully agrees and holes himself up in Gaius's chambers for a few days, while Arthur makes an ass of himself with his foul mood, snapping at everyone in the castle.

The knights try to point out to Arthur that while, yes, Merlin had magic and had lied to Arthur, he had only revealed it to save Arthur's life. Most of the knights used that point as a tool to comfort Arthur and ease his temper, but Gwaine used that fact to rub it in Arthur's face how terrible of a person Arthur was being towards the man who had just saved his life.

Finally, after the whole castle had to suffer through five days of Arthur's prattish and unpleasant behavior, Arthur summoned Merlin to his chambers, feeling calm enough again to actually hear whatever nonsensical reasons Merlin would give for turning to magic.

You see, what Arthur, the knights, and pretty much everyone in the castle had assumed was that Merlin had probably just picked up on some small useful enchantments and healing spells for Gaius's old study of that material. Arthur was angry at Merlin for turning to magic, but he could understand where Merlin was coming from.

Everyone knew that Merlin cared about his friends to the point of idiocy, so it made logical sense that Merlin, since he had the resources available to him, would resort to learning healing magic in case of an emergency. Arthur understood that aspect of Merlin more than anyone else.

Knowing that Merlin's magic was probably just the result of him being a loving and caring idiot did help ease the blow for Arthur, and truthfully Arthur didn't plan on punishing Merlin at all. To Arthur, hopefully confining Merlin to his chambers for a few days would discourage any future stupidity along these lines, and they could put this entire situation behind them.

So, when Arthur summoned a distressingly pale Merlin to his chambers and demanded an explanation, he expected to receive some stuttered response about learning a few spells from some of Gaius's spare books and to extract a promise out of Merlin that he'd never turn to magic again, and then everything would be fine.

However, when a wrought looking Merlin opened his mouth to explain, Arthur's heart plummeted to the floor. At the very first words of Merlin's explanation, "I was born with it," Arthur's chest went cold, and he took a few staggering steps backwards until his back hit the cold wall behind him, his eyes seeking out his blade.

Merlin was born with magic. That made Merlin a... a...

"Warlock," Arthur whispered, his eyes teary and terrified all at once.

Merlin stopped his explanation and tilted his head at Arthur, a small grin pulling on his lips. Arthur flinched back slightly at the sight of it, unable to form a coherent thought beyond the all-encompassing terror, dread, and sorrow that swirled around his mind.

"Ah, so you do know the correct word for it then! Yes, I am technically a warlock, but the distinction doesn't really matter that much anyways."

Merlin made a dismissive gesture with his hand, as if his words hadn't just completely shattered Arthur's heart. Arthur couldn't even listen to the rest of Merlin's explanation through the rush of his heartbeat and breathing in his ears.

The terror gripping his heart shouted at him to fight or flee, don't just stand there waiting for him to decide that he's feeling peckish for souls!

Arthur suddenly registered the pallor of Merlin's skin and the hollowness of his cheeks and came to the awful conclusion that he doesn't have much time, Merlin's already hungry and Merlin was stepping closer there was no time to escape nonono!

Arthur closed his eyes, unable to look at what must have been Merlin unfurling whatever demonic jaws he kept hidden and preparing to eat Arthur's soul...

But the sensation of his soul being devoured, whatever that was supposed to feel like, never came. Instead, he just felt a hand on his forehead, and after a few seconds another one cupped the side of his face.

Arthur hesitantly opened his eyes, almost not wanting to look upon Merlin's happy, friendly face that had always brought nothing but comfort. He didn't want those caring eyes to be that last thing he saw before he died at Merlin's hand!

Slowly, Arthur steeled himself and blinked the tears from his eyes, willing to at least face his death like a true warrior, looking at it head-on.

But, as his vision cleared from the tears, Merlin didn't look like his death, or like any sort of soul-eating monster. He just looked like Merlin, and by god wasn't that the worst part of it?

Merlin slowly smiled at him as his tears dried, coaxing him away from the wall and towards his armchair by the fireplace. Merlin gently guided him over to chair and helped him into his seat, holding Arthur's hand the entire time.

Arthur, once he was sitting, looked over at Merlin, still holding onto his hand and whispering comforting words to him, and Arthur felt like a small, scared child again, freshly awoken from a nightmare and jumping at every shadow.

It took what must have been hours for Arthur to catch his breath, stop his tears, and cease his body's terrified trembling, and Merlin sat next to him the entire time, drying Arthur's tears and comforting him.

Eventually, Arthur looked Merlin in the eyes again, and he could find nothing in them but love and care.

Whatever Merlin was, however hungry he must have been after going five days without being able to hunt for souls to devour, he apparently didn't see Arthur as a target.

Arthur took a deep breath, maintaining eye contact with Merlin. Alright, Merlin might be a soul-eating demon straight out of Camelot's worst nightmares, but he saw Arthur as a friend, not a meal. Arthur... Arthur could work with that.

He just... he needed more information before doing anything else. Merlin was still looking at him with love and concern, and with each passing moment, Arthur became more and more convinced that Merlin was still Merlin, warlock or not. And damn it all, that still counted for something. It had to count for something.

Now that his fear was marginally under control, questions swirled around Arthur's head. How did Merlin even eat souls before this? How often did he need to eat? Did he need to also eat food, or did he sustain himself and his powers on souls alone?

Before he could ask Merlin any of the pressing questions that were on his mind, Merlin had already helped Arthur out of his chair and towards his bed, readying a limp Arthur for bed whilst the king was drowning in his own thoughts.

Before Arthur even knew it, Merlin was pulling blankets over him and snuffing out the candles in his room. Merlin promised to visit Arthur again in the morning to tell him more, and Arthur barely registered his words over the storm of his own thoughts.

When morning came, Arthur couldn't even tell if he had gotten any sleep throughout the night or not, but he woke up exhausted either way. Only a few minutes after the sun had risen, Merlin burst into the room, still looking paler than usual and helping himself to one of the sausages that was supposed to be a part of Arthur's breakfast.

Just the sight of Merlin eating anything made Arthur feel slightly queasy, imaging some terrified soul being devoured at Merlin's hands. Arthur took a deep, steadying breath before getting out of bed, allowing Merlin to dress him as he normally did.

Merlin, much to Arthur's relief, was still acting like nothing had changed, like he was still the same harmless Merlin that Arthur knew him as before yesterday.

If that was how Merlin wanted to act, then Arthur was fine with it. Truthfully, even with all of the questions that Arthur had surrounding Merlin's nature, he found that he didn't really want answers to any of them. Answers would make this new reality, one where Merlin was never harmless at all and where there was a demon hiding under his best friend's skin, real for Arthur. If Arthur didn't have any answers, then he could just... pretend that everything was still fine, like nothing was wrong.

To keep Merlin by his side, he would gladly accept ignorance and pretend like nothing had changed.

However, there was still one issue that Arthur needed an answer to, to confirm that Merlin was still the man who Arthur always thought him to be.

As Merlin was cleaning up Arthur's breakfast plate, Arthur cleared his throat, getting Merlin's attention. Merlin quickly turned around to meet Arthur's gaze, but Arthur didn't feel scared meeting his eyes this time.

"Merlin, I'm willing to let everything that was revealed yesterday be forgiven, and everything can go back to normal."

Merlin gave Arthur a beaming smile at his words, and Arthur continued with a solemn heart.

"However, there is one thing I need to know. You've never..."

Somehow, the words eaten the soul of an innocent person were so vile that they refused to pass Arthur's lips, so he chooses an alternative.

"... hurt anyone who didn't deserve it, right? And you never will in the future? If we are to have any sort of trust between us, you must answer me honestly"

Arthur figured that, if Merlin was indeed forced to eat souls to survive, Merlin was probably feeding on bandits or enemy soldiers that Arthur and the knights would've killed anyways. It was the only explanation, as innocent people didn't mysteriously turn up dead regularly enough in Camelot to indicate that Merlin was feeding on them, and Arthur knew, deep down, that no matter what he was, Merlin would never do such a thing.

Merlin froze at Arthur's words, his smile falling. He lowered his gaze briefly, before meeting Arthur's eyes once more, determination shining brightly in his eyes.

"Arthur, I swear to you, anyone whom I've hurt with my powers were enemies of Camelot. Whatever I've done, I did it to protect you and your subjects."

Arthur nodded, satisfied and relieved by Merlin's answer. Nothing had to change then, Merlin was still his friend and manservant, albeit with powerful magic and an appetite for the souls of his enemies. Arthur could... tolerate that.

As the weeks went on, Arthur found himself thinking about this new side to Merlin less and less. Merlin was still acting exactly as himself, so there was no reason for Arthur to worry, let alone dwell on any thoughts of warlocks.

(And if he had a familiar nightmare from his childhood featuring a warlock, then that was Arthur's business and Arthur's business alone.)

Everything was fine, and months passed without any incidents. That was, however, until Arthur noticed Merlin becoming paler, his cheeks hollowing out again, and his eyes sporting heavy bags. As he took in the changes in Merlin over the past few days, he came to the sickening conclusion: Merlin was getting hungry again, and would need a soul to eat soon.

But Camelot was at peace, there were noticeably less bandits roaming the streets in the past year, and no assassins had come to the castle in the past months. Arthur could see that Merlin's usual... hunting grounds... had been drying up, and he needed to find a solution immediately. Arthur shivered at the thought of what devastation Merlin would unintentionally bring down upon all of them if his hunger ever got out of control.

After several hours of brainstorming on Arthur's part, he finally had an idea. It sickened him to have to consider, but he would do what he had to for the sake of Camelot.

Arthur called for Merlin to follow him as he made his way into the dungeons, where only one prisoner was currently being held. The prisoner was a minor noble who had killed several of his own servants and then used his status as a member of the nobility to cover up his involvement in the murders.

However, the nobleman was sloppy, and there was evidence left behind that proved his guilt without a doubt. He was set to be hanged for his crimes in two days time, as per Arthur's own judgement at the noble's trial, but... if he was going to be executed anyways... perhaps his death may be of use.

(What Arthur didn't know was that the real reason why Merlin looked so exhausted was because Merlin had spent every night for the past week searching for and compiling evidence that the nobleman was behind the murders, as the bastard would've gotten away with it otherwise.)

To Arthur, the criminal's death could be used to ensure that Camelot's only source of magical protection (and Arthur's best and dearest friend) didn't starve to death or go into a hunger-induced rampage, whichever came first.

Slowly, Arthur made his way to the nobleman's cell with Merlin trailing after him, where the criminal was bound to a chair on Arthur's orders. Arthur solemnly opened the door to the cell, gesturing for Merlin to follow him inside.

As soon as Arthur set foot in the cell, the nobleman started begging him for mercy, pleading with him to lower his sentence, not knowing what punishment Arthur truly had in mind for him. Ignoring the soon-to-be dead man, Arthur turned towards Merlin, who was startled by Arthur's intense stare.

"Arthur? What's going on?"

"Merlin," Arthur choked out, his voice rough with guilt, sorrow, and fear alike. Merlin rushed to Arthur's side at the sound, trying to urge him out of the cell, away from whatever issue was causing Arthur such pain.

Standing firm, Arthur cleared his throat.

"Merlin, I need you to... to do something for me."

Concern marred Merlin features as he reached out to Arthur.

"Of course, I would do anything for you Arthur."

Arthur swallowed roughly, trying to force his next words out of his throat. He'd ordered executions before, hell, he'd even ordered this man's execution before, but this was much, much harder than any of the other orders he'd given.

"Merlin, I need you to... take care of this man, as you normally do for enemies of Camelot."

Merlin reeled back with shock, looking somewhere between confused and hurt.

"Arthur, you can't possibly mean for me to..."

"I'm sorry, but yes Merlin, it needs to be done."

Merlin stared at Arthur for a few more moments, before slowly nodding his head and turning towards the bound criminal.

As Merlin stepped closer to the doomed noble, Arthur closed his eyes and turned his head away. Perhaps it was cowardice, but if there were ever a time for Arthur to show such cowardly behavior, it was here. He didn't want to see this part of Merlin.

He did, however, hear everything. There was a scream from the criminal, which was sickeningly cut off by a loud wet crunch that echoes off of the cell's walls, and then there was no sound in the cell except a very loud silence.

Arthur slowly opened his eyes to the sight of Merlin standing in front of a corpse and tried to believe that everything was still normal.

And that's a wrap on this au! Man, that got darker than I expected it to be.

Be sure to let me know if you'd like a continuation of this au!

And, as always, thank you for reading through my ramblings! :D

#bbc merlin #merlin #merlin bbc #arthur pendragon #merlin au #merthur #merlin prompts

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felikatze · 9 months ago

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THE ISLANDER EUPHRASIE THEORY: THE CRACK HEADCANON THAT RUINED ME FOREVER

HI. you might know me as the kingphie divorce guy. or as the guy who wrote the 6k ludonarrative essay. Today i am going to introduce to YOU @the-bitter-ocean's fantabulous ISLANDER EUPHRASIE THEORY!!!

DISCLAIMER

This post contains SPOILERS for ALL of In Stars and Time. INCLUDING THE ACT 6 SECRET!!

You have been warned.

ALSO!!!!

The original headcanon/theory is VERY MUCH Ocean's fantastic work! I am merely rehashing all the arguments for it that have been laid out across various chats into one cohesive thing people can look at. Also citations! Who doesn't love those.

WHAT IS IT?

Well, it's quite simple. It's the theory that Euphrasie, love of my life and Head Housemaiden of Dormont, is from the forgotten island, same as Siffrin and the King.

(Yes, this is why divorce AU exists.)

WHY DO YOU EVEN BELIEVE THIS?

Quite a lot of reasons, actually.

It's really funny

Let us begin with: the basics.

SUPERFLOUS AESTHETIC DETAIL

HAIR COLOR

This is Euphrasie. She's very pretty. I love her.

You might notice several things about her, like her fantabulous white hair.

Well. What other characters have white hair?

You have guessed correctly. The ONLY OTHER white haired characters with actual artwork are Siffrin and the King, both from The Island The World Forgot. Thus we can assume that it's a typical hair color for islanders. Makes it stand out very much that Euphie also has it.

(What about the beautiful one- sh sh sh he's blonde. He's blonde.) (Well, actually, considering that they are the only one who acknowledges that Vaugardians are also weird, what if he's from the island as well? Checkmate atheists.)

EYELASHES

(EDIT!!!!! FINALLY PUTTING THIS ON THE MAIN POST!!!

Turns out I was incorrect in this. Some characters (Mira, Isa) also have eyelashes on SOME portraits. The mentioned chars r still notable for Always Having Em, + the Loop lashes are like, literally intended as plot twist foreshadowing, but, hey.

That's what you get for writing essays at 1am.

IN RETURN!!! Someone pointed out to me [i forgot who sorry] that Euphrasie's capelet.... has stars on it!! It's speckled like the starry sky!! Now isn't that a neat coinkydink.)

(Original text left up because I respect my past self's artistic vision. And his lunacy.)

Correct. Eyelashes.

Going back to our portrait of Euphie, she is drawn with precisely three eyelashes. Why is this notable? Because Siffrin and Loop are.

So much so, that being drawn with three eyelashes, is specifically an element of foreshadowing to Loop's true identity.

(squints at character portraits) literally no characters besides Siffrin, Loop, and Euphrasie have eyelashes? Oh my god. What? Nobody has eyelashes? What the fuck? (okay, some moments later: Mirabelle has eyelashes in some battle artwork, but these three are the only ones specifically with eyelashes in dialogue portraits, which is still incredibly odd.)

SPEAKING HABITS

(EDIT!!! Another Point that is Kind Of Off, in that other characters [e.g. Odile] also do this occasionally. Again, keeping the text for my creative vision.

In return I get to inform you that the King makes the "not so bright, Bright One" pun TWICE in different loops, thus implying the King likes puns. Take this as you will. That's been my psychic damage, buhbyeeee~)

Hey, so, you know when you talk to people in Dormont, a lot of the NPCS will have a nametag that just says "[something] One" right? Daydreaming One, Castle-Loving One, Beautiful One?

And I've seen people wonder, are these titles? Nicknames?

And I bring you this: Siffrin addresses these people with these epithets in his head, because they have no fucking clue what anyone's name is.

So Siffrin just naturally lapses into this style of nicknaming strangers.

Which two other people also do.

Bright one... ...... Do you remember? Traveling one! Are you done talking with your companions? Yes, wonderful, wonderful!

Funny little tidbit that these three characters all speak alike isn't it :)

Okay. With aesthetics out of the way, let's move onto the next tier of this iceberg:

THE MECHANICS OF FORGETTING AND BEING FORGOTTEN

I realize in the process of writing that we must outline the nature of the curse. What gets forgotten and what gets to stay?

The particularity that's important to us right now is: what people get forgotten?

All evidence points toward this: an entire person is only forgotten if they were physically present on the island when it vanished.

I'm pulling up two example cases to prove it: Siffrin and the Daydreaming One.

The thing with Siffrin is: we know he witnessed the exact moment the island vanished. And, very notably, Siffrin was in a boat.

You can get the dialogue that proves this only in ACT 2 in a secret room most people don't find on their first playthroughs, which is both very funny and very evil. Here's the dialogue.

Siffrin: "I ran away from home once!" [...] Siffrin: "And so I took our boat! Got to the beach, rowed away from the shore a bit. I was going to come back right away, I just wanted to scare my parents a bit!" [...]

Siffrin: "I started to row back towards the shore... And then, I... I... ..." Isabeau: ... Sif? Siffrin: (Woah! What?) "Um, yes?" Isabeau: Um... You were telling us how you ran away from home? Siffrin: "I... was?" Odile: You... Were. Bonnie: DID YOU FORGET WHAT YOU WERE TALKING ABOUT WHILE TALKING ABOUT IT?!?

Siffrin is from the island, but was not physically present when it disappeared. This resulted in Siffrin forgetting their entire identity, including given name and spoken/written language.

Additionally, this is confirmed via Word of God to be the exact moment the island disappeared, so here's proof I'm not reading into it:

Shoutout to bibliomaniac's insane google spreadsheet for the easily searchable screenshot. god bless. Brinny, ily.

On the other hand, with the Daydreaming One, we have proof of a person who is not originally from the island, but was physically on it at the time of disappearance.

Siffrin: "Don't you have a sister?" Daydreaming One: I... I don't? I just said I'm an only child, silly!

(For her to forget someone like her sister, so easily... Her sister must've traveled to...)

Secondly, we know that remnants of the island were not completely forgotten immediately.

Memory faded gradually, starting with the ability to still speak and think about it with accompanying headaches, until it ramped up in intensity and everything is simply gone.

The Sparkling Diary in the library is more or less proof. Memory of the island was gone, but... people still remembered that they forgot something. People still knew what they were talking about, (an island north of Vaugarde), just without the specifics.

"Urgh. Also, Dad noticed no one can say the name of the island north of here anymore?" "I tried to say it yesterday and I got like the WEIRDEST headache for HOURS."

And Odile also remarks the following

Odile: We also know that people could remember that country clearly, before.

This will be relevant later. Moving on.

CONTRIVANCES

THE HOUSE'S OBSERVATORY

SO. The House of Change of Dormont has this funny little room on the third floor. It's an observatory. To look at stars with. When entering this room for the first time, Mirabelle says this:

Mirabelle: What...? Was there a room like this in the House? Y-yeah, I remember! Someone was working here... Studying... They looked like... ... Um... Sorry, I can't remember.

This reveals to us several things:

This room is innate to the House, and not brought here by the King's weird redecorating

Someone from the House was using it for study

All memory of who or what was studying and being studied was erased alongside the island's existence

Of course we can say, "yo, what if Euphrasie was using this room and just forgot?" but that is. a headcanon. I ADMIT! It is a stipulation

However, I find the general presence of the Island written all over the House incredibly interesting.

Inside the Observatory, there's a pile of papers with messy handwriting. You can't read these in until ACT 4. Even in ACT 4, you can't read them. But you do learn what's written on them.

(A pile of papers.) (It looks like someone was trying to write your country's name.)

Inside the observatory is also a globe. Upon repeated interaction in... act 4, i think, you get this:

(You see a spot on the globe where the paint has started wearing out, like someone kept dragging their finger on it.) (You drag your finger there too.) (Erased. You almost want to look for lightless paint.)

BOOKS

During the various quests to discover the truth of the loops, you run into a lot of books, written in the forgotten language. Now, Dormont is not close to the island. Dormont is not close to the coast.

Bambouche is. That's why Bonnie has heard about the island before and knows it was a big deal - they lived really close to it.

Bonnie (and then1): I think, I think my village was really close to it!!! My sister said it was all everyone could talk about for weeks!!! Mirabelle (anxious1): That's so frightening... I'm glad that whatever happened, she didn't get caught up in it!

As we can see in this map, Dormont is in the southern half of the country, and very centrally at that, meaning it has basically maximum distance from all waters and ports. So why does this landlocked small town have so many books in this language?

These aren't just dry books, either. In Dormont's library, there's actually a translated version of volume 2 of The Cursing of Chateau Castle.

(You take the book out again.) (You can read its title, now...) (Your heart is beating, badump, badump, badump.) (It's...) (... A translated copy of "The Cursing of Château Castle", issue #2.) (You start laughing.)

CONCLUSION OF THIS SECTION

Islanders lived in Dormont. Maybe even multiple! We've established that whoever is in Dormont when it vanished would not simply disapper, instead

they forgot where they're from.

One day, the islanders in Dormont could no longer remember being anywhere but Dormont. Being anything but Vaugardian. The observatory fell into disuse, as the person studying there gradually forgot what they used it for, even as they desparately tried to hold onto it, boring holes into the globe, and scribbling its name over and over until its unintelligible.

And, in all likelihood, eventually that knowledge was just gone forever. They simply became part of Dormont, none the wiser to their own history.

Books slipped into cracks. Rooms fell into disuse. Nobody remembered to clean out the remnants.

Now. The real cinch of this.

Why, in particular, do I think Euphrasie is one of them?

Answer me this, then.

How does Euphie know what Wish Craft is?

1. How could she read it?

Euphrasie knew specifically that Wish Craft exists, when all books on it are written in a language nobody can read.

The book in the storage room? The diary in the room behind the star door? The book in the secret library? None of them are legible.

There are no legible records of Wish Craft.

2. What about the Favor Tree?

Euphrasie knew specifically that Wish Craft is related to the Favor Tree. It's also a Vaugardian practice to make requests of the Favor Tree, but they're just that - requests. Nobody thinks they actually have power.

Only Euphrasie does. She thinks it's the key to defeating the King.

(This is... A list of people who wished to save Vaugarde!!!) (You look around her desk, trying to find out more.) (Why would she record the people who wished to save Vaugarde?) (... There!!!) (It's a little notebook, jammed between random boring paperwork...) (In it, the Head Housemaiden talks about Wish Craft... How in the days before the King attacked, she noticed everyone was wishing to the Favor Tree for the same thing:) (To save Vaugarde.) (And she started wondering if this wish could be the key to the King's defeat, somehow...) (So the Head Housemaiden knew about Wish Craft!!!)

Except, when Isabeau talks about it...

Isabeau: Well, it's just a random big tree. But when you're a believer of the House of Change, the biggest tree in a certain place is called a Favor Tree! It's like, it’s the tree with the most power, so you can ask it things? As a favor?

He struggles a little to explain it. Almost, as though the tradition came from some other culture, imported into Vaugarde, and no one can definetely remember where it came from.

To note, here, is that the Favor Tree is hugely associated with Loop, and wishes in general. Wishing on a Favor Tree is such a hugely powerful ritual when executed correctly, that it caused the entire timeloops.

And I'm not even gonna break out citations to prove that Wish Craft is associated with the island. Come on. You know that. You played the game. It's required to beat the game.

If you haven't beaten the game, what the fuck are you doing here. Go back and play it, baka.

3. Something's breaking, failing, rotting

At the end of ACT 4, when Siffrin confronts Euphrasie about her knowledge of Wish Craft, Euphrasie is distinctly aware of this: the people of Vaugarde are wishing wrong.

It's true. All of Vaugarde wished to the Favor Tree, wished for us to be saved. We wished for a savior. A way for us to win against the King. And Wish Craft gave us the means to do it, didn't it? Made sure it'd work? [...] But... But something went wrong, didn't it? Something goes wrong, every time!!! [...] The only answer I can find... Is it's because we did it wrong. I don't know what happened But we must've done it wrong!!! None of us in Vaugarde knew the exact ritual, but-- But we must have done it so wrong, it broke, and it doesn't answer to us at all anymore!!! [...] I don't know, I don't know, I don't know!!!

There's only one person who knew how to make a Wish correctly. And he made it by sheer instinct. Something they could not place even if they tried. Just... a forgotten ritual, dredged back up by muscle memory. Something he's probably been doing since he's a little kid, something that's so backed into their habits they use Wish Craft to carve figurines out of wood.

To end, I leave you with this. Dialogue you get when you try to talk to Euphrasie again, before you talked to everybody else.

If you talk to me... REALLY talk to me... It's all over. What "it" is, I have no idea... I know... I can feel that... I couldn't change whatever comes next, even if I wanted to. But I know it is the will of the Change God. Or, no, perhaps... The will of something even bigger... ... Something will end, once you talk to me.

There is a way for Euphrasie to know all of this. To know Wish Craft exists, to be aware she's doing it wrong, but not knowing, remembering quite enough to get it right.

If she knew it all beforehand already.

#Feli speaks #in stars and time #isat spoilers #isat #euphrasie isat #head housemaiden #ALL THE TAGS. I NEED PEOPLE TO LOOK AT THIS. PLEASE. IT'S 1:30 IN THE MORNING.#i spent two hours on this i think

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sanaexus · 5 months ago

Text

social's as yukimiya's girlfriend

-liked by megubachi, otoya.eita and 123.56k others

yourusername: i can't see i'm bliind BLIIIIND BLIIIIND (pun intended)

tagged: yukimiya.kenyu

oliver.aiku: THE CAPTION HELP FOUL ASF 😭😭 ↳yourusername: BITCH YOU NOW I'M SEXY ↳megubachi: UH DON'T CALL JUST TEXT ME ↳chigi.who: BITCHES SLOW CAN GET ON MY SPEED ↳kuniisuke: THEY STARE AT ME CAUSE THEY KNOW I'M THE ↳rin.itoshi: I-T-G-I-R-L ↳karasu_tabito: ok what the fuck is up with this edgelord ain't no fucking way he typed that ↳yourusername: you're right he didn't i did he went to let out expired water from his wonka ↳reo.miikage: what 💀 ↳hiyori: piss she meant piss

↳yourusername: SAME THING ↳nikkoki: are we going to ignore the original comment? ↳nikkoki: ok yeah ignore me too

yukimiya.kenyu: okay now who the fuck edited that 2nd image better sleep with one eye open ↳oliver.aiku: it won't matter if you sleep with both of your eyes open because you're blind anyways ↳yourusername: HEY DONR BULLY MY BF 🤬🤬🗣🗣🐺🐺ONLY I CAN BULLY MY POOKIE WOOKIE DOOKIE CUTE PATOOTIE APPLE HONEY SUGAR MELON PLUM PIE 10PC CHICKEN MCNUGGETS ↳yukimiya.kenyu: sigh why do i like you ↳yourusername: YOU DONR LOVE ME 🙁🙁☹☹ ↳megubachi: YOU MADE HER SAD NOW WOWOWOW ↳yukimiya.kenyu: no i'm sorry i'll let you paint my nails ↳yourusername: YIPPEE TY BACHIRA ILY 😘😘 ↳megubachi: ILYT POOKS 😘😘

isaichii: hear me out MAYBE just MAyBE giving me picture credits for the first one would be nice. a fucking dog nearly pissed on my show bc of y'all ↳yourusername: AND?? I NEARLY DIED BC THAT HOE IS A BLIND BITCH AND WALKED STRAIGHT INTO A BUS ↳yukimiya.kenyu: BRo?? DONR BLAME IT ALL ON ME ↳yourusername: I DIDN'T EVEN TAKE YOUR NAME WHY ARE YOU THINKING IM TALKING AB U ↳yukimiya.kenyu: BC OF THE FACT YOU CALLED ME A HOE AND A BLIND BITCH AND I WAS THE ONE WHO WALKED STRAIGHT INTO A BUS AND WAS THE ONLY OTHER PERSON IN THE PICTURE UNLESS YOU HAVE A SIDECHICK ↳itoshi_sae: so you admit you're a hoe who's a blind bitch? 💀 ↳yukimya.kenyu: what

user1: jokes aside they're so cute (i fucking hate couples) ↳yourusername: ty pooks (ikr same couples are so cringe imagine not being single) ↳yukimiya.kenyu: w h a t . ↳yukimiya.kenyu: WE'VE BEEN TOGETHER FOR LIKE A YEAR?? ↳yourusername: what idk who u are :x ↳nagi.seishiro: srop txting like me :x ↳yourusername: fuck off

-liked by reo.miikage, julian.loki and 122.8k others

yukimiya.kenyu: my fav side chick xoxo

tagged: yourusername

megubachi: NO WAY BRO REALLY SAID THAT ↳yourusername: mom told me honesty is the best policy 🤷‍♀️ (also you're right he didn't it write the caption i did i stole his phone) ↳chigi.who: yes girl gaslight gatekeep girlboss ↳yukimiya.kenyu: AND WHY ARE YOU GUYS ENCOURAGING HER?? ↳yourusername: bc has balls = no opinion /j ↳yukimiya.kenyu: i see how it is ↳shiidoryu: BALLS MENTIONED RAHHHH 🤬🤬🐺🐺🗣🗣‼‼💯💯😎😎🔫🔫💣💣🔥🔥🔛🔝 ↳hiyori: who let this creature out

user2: my roman empire is how their faces fit together ↳julian.loki: that looks so fucking weird when you write it but ok ↳yourusername: SROP BEING A HATER JS BC U DON'T PULL ↳julian.loki: I DO PULL TFYM 🤬🤬🐺🐺I'M THE ALPHAEST ALPHA ↳yoursername: NO YOU DON'T YOU'RE ALMOST ALWAYS SURROUNED BY SHIRTLESS SWEATY BALL LOVING MEN WHO HAVE "MONSTERS" IN THEM ↳hiyori: soccer players just say soccer players please ↳mikka.kaiser: FOOTBaLL PLAYERS* ↳yukimiya.kenyu: ignoring these dried pieces of celery tysm me n her are meant to be ↳yoursername: OMGOMGOMG THE KUYIMIYA YENYU WANTS ME 😍😍🙀🙀 ↳shoei.barou: kukyimiya yenyu 💀 ↳yourusername: SHUR UP 🙁🙁

yukimiya.kenyu: i'll ignore the caption AND YOU STEALING MY PHONE for now but aside from that have i told you look very pretty ↳yourusername: but you can't even see? 🧍‍♀️ ↳shiidoryu: Y/N TAKE THE FUCKING COMPLIMENT WHEN SUCH A GORGEOUS MAN COMPLIMENTS YOU, YOU ACCEPT IT ↳shiidoryu: also real you can't even see ↳yukimiy.kenyu: i will actually feed you both toilet water ↳yourusername: you're gonna feed me? 🥺 ↳shiidoryu: you're gonna feed us? 🥺 ↳yourusername: FUCK OFF HE'S MY BF?? ↳shiidoryu: tell sae to unblock me and i'll leave him alone ↳itoshi_sae: don't even think about dming me ab this

-liked by nikkoki, alexis.ness and 134.2k others

yourusername: right now, right now baby, i don't care about the other summer (kenyu is the rat, rat is kenyu)

tagged: yukimiya.kenyu

yukimiya.kenyu: first of all i am not your crush i'm your bf?? second of all I DO NOT LOOK LIKE A RAT ↳kuniisuke: seems like something a rat face would say ↳megubachi: no bc y/n said it so it's canon ↳yourusername: still my real one fr ↳megubachi: twins ↳isaichii: bsdhira hiw ciulf yoi do tijs to me ↳rin.itoshi: some please translate that AGAIN ↳yourusername: "bachira how could you do this to me" ↳megubachi: sorry shnookums ↳isaichii: sorry guys kaiser got out of his cage (again) and started chasing me like a duck (again) ↳mikka.kaiser: you still haven't come to papa ↳reo.miikage: again what the fuck?

user2: the moment my f1 addicted brain saw the second picture it instantly said "i have never looked so good" ↳hiyori: LECLERC 🔛🔝 ↳yoursername: NAHH VERSTAPPEN ALL THE WAY🔛🔝 ↳yukimiya.kenyu: said it before and i'll say it again HAMILTON DOMINATION 🔛🔝 ↳julian.loki: hear me the fuck out. logan sargeant 🔥🔥🐺🐺 ↳shiidoryu: RAHHHH WHATS A KILOMETER 🔫🔫💣💣💯💯‼‼😎😎🐺🐺��🔝 ↳rin.itoshi: please seek help

mikka.kaiser: NEW JEANS MENTIONED RAHHHHHHH ↳mikka.kaiser: and we can go high 말해봐 yeah 느껴봐 mm-mm ↳alexis.ness: take him to the sky you know, i hype you, boy ↳mikka.kaiser: i raised you well, good boy ↳itoshi_sae: please be kinky, disgusting and possibly gay somewhere else ↳mikka.kaiser: we're not gay ↳alexis.ness: we're not?

yukimiya.kenyu: i see a drop dead gorgeous person right there ↳yourusername: awww ily 🥺🥺 ↳yukimiya.kenyu: oh look you're there too ↳oliver.aiku: LMFAO

nikkoki: jokes aside the first picture is so cute ↳yourusername: thank you 👉👈😝

aryu.jubei: did he try yanking your hair (send hair care routine pls) ↳yourusername: no he didn't SUPRISNGLY (ofc pooks) ↳kuniisuke: dammit ↳yourusername: WHY DO YOU WANT ME HURT SO BAD 🙁🙁 ↳rin.itoshi: surpisngly* ↳shiidoryu: YOU GOT IR WRONG TOO LMFAO

HI CHAT!!111!11 I KNOW I WAS SUPPOSED TO POST THIS LIKE A CENTURY AGO BUT ITS FINE (i had school and i came home at like 5 and i had volleyball and track practice and i had to study bc i have exams every week pls save me also i had parent teacher conference and i didn't get cooked) HAPPY SATURDAY GAYS!🐺🐺

also if you took offense to any jokes i'm sorry i really don't mean any of it. i made references to some previous posts bc why not and i love f1 jokes so 😝😝

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cobragardens · 1 year ago

Text

CORRECTED & UPDATED! Clothes + Equivocation = Romance:

The Husbands in 1793

EDIT: I made a significant error when I wrote this. As @goodjomans kindly points out in the comments to Part 2 of this essay (massive shoutout for this, goodjomans! also I love your name!), Aziraphale is the one who dresses the executioner in clothing like Aziraphale's original ensemble, not Crowley. This changes my conclusions about the meaning we can take from this scene!

On the one hand, mea culpa, y'all. I shall get on with eating my crow. On the other hand, I had to go through this frame-by-frame to catch which of the ineffable spouses puts Jean-Claude in his new togs, and the answer only lasts three frames. Here it is:

After Aziraphale changes his clothes, but before Crowley snaps his fingers and unfreezes time, there's a shot of the executioner over Crowley's shoulder, and he is now wearing a light coat with gold embroidery on the shoulders like Aziraphale's. Aziraphale arranges the executioner's death, not Crowley. So I feel like an idiot for missing it, but not a total idiot.

Let's discuss how this information changes what we can read from this scene! I'm going to leave my original text in place and edit with bold green. I can still stand by most of this essay, but this detail changes how I read the meaning of the husbands' communication at the end of this scene.

So we're all clear on the fact that the universe of Good Omens is an inescapable nightmare dystopia in which either of the husbands' merciless authoritarian regimes could be watching or listening to them at any time, yes? And that if either are caught 'fraternizing' with the other that means discorporation, torture, memory wipe, and/or death for either or both of them, yes?

Which means Crowley and Aziraphale can never speak or do anything openly to each other about their friendship or attraction or love. Everything they say and do has to have an innocuous meaning they can point to in case anybody ever sees or hears something Team Azcrow can't explain away. Walls (and ducks) have ears, and the price of slipping up--as we see in 1827--is heavy.

When a character says or does something that has two distinct meanings because they need to disguise what they really mean from one party but make their meaning plain to another, lit-nerds (and lit nerds🍃) call this equivocation. Equivocation is a kind of coded communication meant to pass hostile ears and eyes in plain sight but reach its intended recipient with its true meaning. The 1793 scene is jammed with it.

A lot of that coded messaging revolves around the clothes Crowley and Aziraphale choose in this scene, so--THESIS PARAGRAPH, BITCHES--we're going going to talk about how their clothes read to the people of this time period and location, what their clothes tell us about their characters, how their clothes help them equivocate, and what they're really saying with that equivocation. And Spoiler A-fucking-lert, it is ROMANTIC AF PRETTY GD ROMANTIC. Let's get nerdy!

We start with Aziraphale's beautiful champagne-gold and powder-pink ensemble.

This outfit would tell people of this time period 3 things about Aziraphale:

That he's insanely wealthy--These clothes would be silk, hand-embroidered with thread made with actual gold. Each individual garment could cost years' or even decades' worth of working-class wages and take a team of skilled artisans dozens to hundreds of hours to make.

That he's a fop--i.e., a man who loves fine clothes and dressing up and looking fancy. By the 1790s in England, once-fashionable foppishness was giving way to the Neoclassical 'Corinthian' style, and was considered effete. (Fun note: During this time period, effete did not automatically indicate gay, and pink was considered a masculine color, so while Az. is queering it up to the audience here, his clothes would not have read as gay or overtly effeminate to the other characters around him.)

Even though he's insanely wealthy, Aziraphale wears clothes that are decades out of fashion.

According to the Victoria & Albert Museum, "As the [18th] century progressed, the male silhouette slowly changed.[...] Coat skirts gradually became less full and the front was cut in a curved line towards the back. Waistcoats became shorter. The upper leg began to show more and more[...]. Shoes became low-heeled with pointed toes and were fastened with a detachable buckle and straps or ribbon[.]

Source

That description is not what Aziraphale's wearing. Judging by his heel height and the length of his waistcoat, Aziraphale is wearing a style that's at least a decade older than this:

And this is from 1765. The great crepes caper happens in 1793, almost 30 years later.

My inference: Just as he has in the modern period, Aziraphale has settled into a style he really likes and refused to let go of it long after it's gone out of fashion.

We'll come back to this set of Aziraphale's clothes in a bit, but we need to talk about Crowley's first, because Crowley's clothes in this scene help render a line he says later about this outfit very flirtatious and darkly romantic.

First, some background: What was considered acceptable attire for wealthy people in France changed pretty much overnight during the French Revolution after the storming of the Bastille in 1789 and the fall of the French monarchy. Instead of advertising wealth, clothes now had to advertise political allegiance, and they had to do so loud and clear. And if you didn't want to be murdered by the French First Republic, that political allegiance had fucking better be to the Revolution.

People started wearing a looooooot of super patriotic shit. And I mean it was like little kids on the 4th of July; clothes were red, white, and blue in any hue and garish combination and print. The cockade, a fabric rosette in the colors of the French flag, was required by law to be worn by men, and despite that was just as popular among women. To show solidarity with the laboring classes, the fabrics the wealthy wore went from embroidered silk in light Rococo colors (what Aziraphale is wearing) to sober neutrals without decoration in wool, cotton, and linen.

Now, the script note for Crowley's clothing in this scene is this:

But clearly there were some changes made between script and filming, because Crowley does not appear standing behind Aziraphale; he appears lounging.

And he's not dressed as a French peasant.

Here's how French peasants dressed in 1790:

Peasants at this time wore styles that distinguished them from the styles of the upper classes not just in materials, colors, or patterns, but in shapes. Full trousers and cropped boxy jackets in French flag colors were the marks of the laboring-class Revolutionary, and both styles were huge changes from hundreds of years of French fashion up to that point.

And that's not what Crowley shows up wearing. Crowley is wearing the knee breeches, stockings, waistcoat, and frock coat of a wealthy man, and in fact his clothes reference a very specific type of wealthy man.

In the 1790s, if you were an aristocrat who wasn't happy about the Revolution and you were so sure of your privilege that you would risk your life showing it, you wore black in mourning for the monarchy and in protest of the violence of its deposition. If you were an aristocrat who wanted to protest and you didn't want to be immediately murdered by the French First Republic, you wore a style called half-mourning, which was black with a colored coat.

Here's a picture from a 1790 fashion magazine of an aristocrat in half-mourning:

"The text accompanying the plate describes his ensemble as 'half-mourning,' referring to the aristocrats who lamented 'the diminished powers of the monarchy and [signaled] their willingness to die for the royal cause'" [emph. added]. [Source]

Notice: the shoes, stockings, breeches, waistcoat, and cravat are all black. You with me?

Because here's Crowley in 1793:

I've turned up the brightness and exposure in this image so he's more clearly visible against the stone, but I haven't warmed it up. He's wearing a coat that's a dark blackish red. Everything else, even his cravat, even his shirt, is black. (The black shirt is anachronistic, a lovely little nod to Crowley's refusal to wear angelic white.)

This is 179fuckin'3, y'all. Marie Antoinette is executed in 1793. It's 3 full years after that fashion plate up there in his bright red jacket, and that lil dude was already risking his neck way back in 1790. As we can see from the fact that the government are apparently now grabbing random wealthy-looking Englishmen off the street to murder without trial, the time for a man demon to be sauntering around Paris dressed in all black or even nearly all black is well past.

Crowley's also wearing a whole assload of huge silver buttons, which would have been flashy and tacky and frankly pretty weird in 1793 but very definitely an eccentric Rich Person Thing to do, bc regular buttons at this time were horn or wood and covered with the garment's fabric. The only man in France who could get away with this fancy aristo shit anymore was Robespierre himself, and only "devotion to the cause[...] excused Robespierre’s showy dress since he was perceived as a bridge between the politically empowered bourgeois deputies and the ardently antimonarchical unenfranchised classes." [Source]

So when Crowley teases Aziraphale--

--both of them are perfectly well aware that Crowley's outfit would get him just as killed as Aziraphale's.

And that's why Aziraphale's expression is annoyed when he has abandon his "standards" and change his clothes. Because Aziraphale's the one who needs the favor, Crowley makes him take one for the team and wear the goofy hat.

The clothes Az. changes into here still tell people that he's rich, but they also say he's a hardcore Revolutionary. The red jacket in a current cutaway style, the cockade and sash, and the bonnet phrygien (the red garden-gnome cap) all announce this guy is a huge supporter of the Revolution. His clothes are all still aristocratic in shape and materials (and he keeps his now-unfashionably frilly lace cravat), but he's no longer flaunting obscene wealth in a city filled with angry starving people, and the gnome cap says he's in solidarity with the working classes even if he isn't one of them.

Once he restarts time, Crowley is not leaving that prison cell safely without either changing his clothes or taking Aziraphale with him, because Crowley looks like a rich asshole protesting the fall of the monarchy--which is frankly exactly the kind of thing he'd show up wearing to the Bastille during the Reign of Terror (just like he wears athleisure in Heaven). But Aziraphale's new appearance covers for them both: if the rich-looking guy with no cockade and wearing all black under his almost-black coat is in with this other guy who's obviously a Revolution fanatic, then the rich guy's probably okay, right? He just forgot his sash at home or something. Bees.

Something else happens when Az. changes, too. Look at Aziraphale's new dress from a different angle:

Half-mourning is a white shirt, but a black cravat, so this isn't half-mourning. He's wearing three different badges of the Revolution to make up for the fact that Crowley looks like a Satanic libertine (which tbf he is), but Aziraphale's new ensemble is black and dark red.

Y'all. Aziraphale changes into Crowley's colors.

Now, this is a more fashionable and higher quality version of what the executioner is wearing, so Aziraphale has very plausible deniability here; if anyone ever pulled him up on it, he could say he just copied our man Jean-Claude.

But let me show you what English fashion looks like right now:

This is a French painting of a wealthy Frenchman, but he's wearing the English 'Corinthian' style. It was painted in 1795, so this would have been the very cutting edge of fashion in England in 1793, and the fabrics and colors look right at home in Revolutionary Paris. (He's wearing the cockade on his hat, btw.)

Look at all that angelic white! The buttery almond of the buckskin breeches, the golden kidskin gloves, the rich tan of the riding boots! The blue of the greatcoat! All colors we know Aziraphale prefers!

And yet this is what Aziraphale chooses:

We know from the entire rest of the show how very particular about his clothes Aziraphale is. And yet 150 years before he (accidentally) admits in words that he's Crowley's friend, Aziraphale wears Crowley's colors to take him to lunch to say thank you for a rescue.

When we decide whether a character's speech or action is equivocation, one of the things we check is whether equivocation (and deception generally) is something that character does elsewhere in the text, which, with Aziraphale, hahahahaha, DUH. He's already using equivocation in this scene.

The lunch date itself is equivocation on Aziraphale's part. Aziraphale tries to thank Crowley for the rescue, but Crowley says,

So Aziraphale says,

No more words like "thanks" or "rescue" used, but a couple hours of good food and drink and conversation, Aziraphale hopes, will express the gratitude toward Crowley it's not safe to speak aloud. With this, Crowley and Aziraphale explicitly establish that they are equivocating for each other's safety and using coded communication--immediately before Aziraphale changes into Crowley's colors.

So yes, Aziraphale may well copy the executioner's clothes. But consider: When a character who can't speak or act openly says or does something that has two or more possible meanings, this can be read as equivocation.

We don't get a face reaction from Crowley about Aziraphale's new 'fit, so we can't be sure how he feels about this. But this whole scene is, even on its surface, about 1) the meaning clothes transmit to a viewer ("Oh good Lord," says Aziraphale when he sees what Crowley's wearing) and 2) how to show gratitude and appreciation when you can't speak of them openly. And we know Crowley notices clothing and clothing colors, because look at what he wears, like, ever. So it's very reasonable to presume he notices Aziraphale wearing his colors, and it fits well with both the rest of Crowley's actions in this scene and with his being very hurt and angry when Aziraphale later characterizes their interactions as "fraternizing."

Right, so we've covered what's going on with the husbands' clothes, and we've looked at two examples of equivocation on Aziraphale's part, viz., lunch and his change of colors. (Here's an example of equivocation on Crowley's part as well.) Now let's look at that super interesting thing Crowley says about Aziraphale's first outfit.

Here's the line:

Crowley follows up here on earlier lines in which he teases Aziraphale for coming to Reign-of-Terror Paris for crepes: "Dressed like that?" meaning Aziraphale was guaranteed to get arrested dressed like an aristocrat. The top layer of equivocation is always an innocuous meaning: the plausible deniability meant for the hostile/unsafe listeners. That's Meaning 1.

But "Dressed like that, s/he's asking for trouble" means two other things, too. It's a veeerrrrry familiar phrase, isn't it? We've all heard that arrangement of words in that order before. It's used when people think someone (usually but not always a woman) is dressed to invite sexual attention.

How do we know we're supposed to take this modern meaning from this phrase? This is how:

We have learned in literally the previous sentence to this one that rain has not been invented yet. The only two humans in existence have just left the Garden. Balloons definitely do not exist yet, humans couldn't tell you what lead is, and yet this is a phrase Crowley uses and Aziraphale understands. This tells us, the audience, in the very first line of the very first scene with these characters, that their speech is anachronistic and modern, and that we are to understand their phrasing in its contemporary sense.

So. When Crowley says "Dressed like that, he was asking for trouble" in 1793, we should read that in the context of the scene and in the senses the phrase carries to us today.

And since Crowley is using a phrase that means the executioner is dressed to invite sexual attention, and the executioner is wearing clothes identical to Aziraphale's, then Crowley is necessarily telling Aziraphale that when Aziraphale was wearing those clothes--those frilly, effete, unfashionable-for-decades clothes that nobody else likes and the French now murder people for wearing--that was, in Crowley's view...provocatively sexy. Meaning 2.

"Dressed like that, s/he was asking for trouble" is also what people say to justify violence, especially sexual violence against women and queerphobic attacks against men perceived as gay or just 'insufficiently' 'masculine'. In fact justifying assault is likely the most common way this phrase is used today by a wide margin. Meaning 3.

Crowley's joke isn't even really a joke in this sense; it's a vicious barb. And, because it must, it sounds like it's at Aziraphale's expense: You wore the wrong clothes, you weren't careful enough to guard yourself against the men who want to do you harm, so you deserved the trouble you got. Meaning 1.

Except remember: Crowley is also dressed for trouble. And Aziraphale is aware of this. Crowley's 'fit would be almost as offensive to the Revolutionary French of 1793 as Aziraphale's Rococo pastels, and probably just as likely to get him arrested and murdered by the state if he weren't making letting Aziraphale keep him safe by wearing the cockade and the silly hat. Crowley's not saying anything about Aziraphale here that he's not also saying about himself; and as we know from Aziraphale's initial "Oh good Lord" when he turns around and sees Crowley's black and red half-mourning (with extra black and gobs of silver), Aziraphale knows it.

Then why the rapey joke, Crowley?

This is fucking why:

Crowley rocks up at the Bastille just in time to witness some grubby fucker assault his friend. Assault the person Crowley will greet 15 seconds after this as angel.

Crowley's first act after freeing Aziraphale is to send this dude to his death. Nope! Aziraphale is the one who arranges to have the executioner killed in the clothes he would have killed Aziraphale for wearing. He takes Jean-Claude's ability to speak (but not to make sounds, interestingly! Jean-Claude can still whimper, Jean-Claude can still cry!) so the executioner can't tell anyone about the 'mixup.' It's unclear which of them blocks the executioner's power of speech. The vicious joke about assault in Meaning 3 isn't at Aziraphale's expense at all. It's not You wore the wrong clothes, so you deserved the trouble you got. It's If this guy thinks you deserve trouble for wearing the wrong clothes, he can eat his own rules.

And that's the other piece of evidence that, along with Crowley's ensemble, shows us the audience and Aziraphale which meanings Crowley intends with his equivocation. Meaning 1 is cancelled out by Crowley's clothes. That leaves Meanings 2 and 3.

Crowley and Aziraphale share clothes as a common interest. They don't have the same style, but they're both aware of current fashions, and Heaven and Hell aren't. You can't tell me Hastur or Uriel would recognize the significance of Crowley saying "Dressed like that, he's asking for trouble" about someone else while wearing black stockings and cravat and waistcoat himself. And that means Anything the husbands communicate to each other through clothing choices goes undetected by their masters.

SO. With all this in mind, let's go through the 1793 scene again and look at what their clothes help them say without words.

Concluded in Part 2!

#good omens #good omens 2 #good omens s2 #good omens costumes #good omens fan theory #good omens meta #good omens analysis #aziracrow #azcrow #ineffable husbands #aziraphale x crowley #azicrow #good omens 1793 #good omens 1984 #good omens clothes and equivocation

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cheynovak · 4 months ago

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The Road to Clarity - part 1

Summary: Y/N is a photographer, loving her job in New York. During a shoot she worked with her now boyfriend, Tom. They soon started dating. Now three years later her life takes a turn and when she flies out to Texas, she meets Jensen, a rancher with a teenage daughter Samantha.

Warnings: slow burn, romantic, nothing to explicit -> yet

English is not my first language

Words: 3730

*This story is my own original story, please do not copy my work, reblog/comments/likes are appreciated*

Y/N had always loved the way her camera captured life. In a city like New York, where everything moved at a breakneck pace, photography was her way of freezing time, of holding onto the moments that mattered. Her days were filled with shoots, editing sessions, and gallery meetings, but her nights belonged to Tom.

She met Tom on a crisp autumn afternoon. He was the model for a high-profile fashion shoot, and the moment she saw him, something clicked. His chiseled features, confident demeanor, and the way he carried himself—it all drew her in. What started as professional banter quickly turned into late-night conversations, shared dinners, and eventually, love.

They had been inseparable for the past three years. Y/N often marveled at how lucky she was to have found someone like Tom. They complemented each other in every way—her quiet introspection balanced his outgoing charm, her artistic vision complemented his natural talent in front of the camera. When he proposed under the soft glow of the Brooklyn Bridge, she said yes without hesitation.

But love, Y/N was beginning to realize, could be as fleeting as the moments she captured on film.

It started with little things—a text message he quickly hid, unexplained absences, and a change in his behavior that she couldn’t quite put her finger on. Y/N tried to ignore it at first, brushing away her unease as paranoia. But the doubts gnawed at her, growing larger and more insistent with each passing day.

One evening, while Tom was in the shower, Y/N's curiosity got the better of her. She hesitated for a moment, heart pounding in her chest, before unlocking his phone. She wasn’t prepared for what she found. Dozens of messages, photos, and late-night plans with someone else. Her worst fears confirmed, she felt her world collapse in on itself.

Tom emerged from the bathroom, steam billowing out behind him, and saw the look on her face. There was no need for words—he knew she had found out.

"Y/N, I can explain," he started, but she cut him off.

"Don’t," she whispered, tears brimming in her eyes. "Just… don’t."

The apartment that had once felt so warm and safe now felt suffocating. She needed to escape, to put as much distance between herself and this betrayal as possible. Without a word, she grabbed her suitcase, threw in whatever she could find, and walked out the door, leaving Tom standing there, drenched in the silence of his own making.

At the airport, she stared blankly at the departure board. She had no plan, no destination in mind—just the overwhelming urge to be anywhere but here. Texas. It was the first place that caught her eye. A place far from the towering skyscrapers and the painful memories they held. She bought the next ticket out and boarded the plane, leaving behind the city that had given her so much, yet taken away even more.

As the plane lifted off, Y/N stared out the window at the sprawling city below, the lights glittering like a thousand broken promises. She let the tears fall freely now, each one a testament to the love she thought she had, the life she thought she was building.

Texas greeted her with open skies and a warmth that contrasted sharply with the cold she felt inside. She rented a small cabin on the outskirts of a quiet town, far away from the hustle and bustle of city life. The days passed slowly, the rhythm of the rural life a stark contrast to the frenetic pace she was used to. She spent her mornings walking along dusty trails, camera in hand, capturing the beauty of a world that seemed so far removed from her own.

One day, as she was photographing a field of wildflowers behind her rented cabin, swaying gently in the breeze, she noticed a young couple lounging near a tree. They couldn’t have been more than sixteen, the girl with long, flowing hair and the boy with a mischievous grin. There was something so innocent, so pure about their presence. Y/N raised her camera and snapped a few shots, the soft click of the shutter almost lost in the rustling of the leaves.

The couple noticed her, and she waved them over, smiling. They approached, curious and a little shy.

"Hi there," Y/N greeted them warmly. "I hope you don’t mind—I couldn’t resist capturing such a sweet moment."

The girl blushed, her eyes sparkling with young love. "No, we don’t mind at all. Can we see?"

Y/N showed them the photos on the camera’s screen. The girl gasped in delight. "These are beautiful!"

"You two make a lovely picture," Y/N said, feeling a pang of something bittersweet as she looked at them. They reminded her of a time when she, too, had believed in love that simple and untainted.

"My mom has a darkroom at home," the girl said suddenly, her voice filled with pride. "She used to develop photos all the time.” Y/N’s curiosity was piqued. "A darkroom? That’s rare to find these days. Where do you live?"

The girl pointed off toward the distance. "Not far, just a couple of miles down the road. You should come by sometime!” The boy nudged the girl gently. "We should get going, Sam. It’s getting late."

Samantha nodded, smiling at Y/N giving her hand. "Samantha, Sam for short, It was really nice meeting you."

"You too, I’m Y/N" She replied, watching as they walked away, hand in hand, disappearing into the twilight. As Y/N stood there, the camera hanging loosely from her neck, she couldn’t resist capturing one last image of the young couple. They walked hand in hand toward the setting sun, their silhouettes framed perfectly by the golden light. She clicked the shutter, knowing that this moment, like so many others, would be one she would keep with her.

The following week, Y/N found herself at a quaint café in town, her laptop open in front of her. The smell of freshly brewed coffee filled the air as she sipped her drink, her focus on editing the photos she had taken over the past few days. The images of the teenage couple were among her favorites, and she found herself drawn to the warmth and innocence captured in each shot.

As she worked, the familiar sound of a truck pulling up outside the café caught her attention. She glanced up just as the door swung open, revealing Samantha and a man who looked to be in his early forties. He had light brown hair, slightly tousled, and sharp green eyes that contrasted with his weathered face—features that suggested years of hard work under the Texas sun.

Samantha’s eyes lit up when she saw Y/N. She waved enthusiastically, her smile as bright as ever. Y/N smiled back, motioning for them to join her at the small table by the window.

“Hi, Y/N!” Samantha greeted her cheerfully, sliding into the chair across from her. The man followed suit, offering a polite nod.

“Hey, Samantha,” Y/N replied warmly, turning her laptop so they could see the screen. “I was just working on your photos. What do you think?”

Samantha leaned forward, her eyes widening as she took in the image of herself and her boyfriend walking into the sunset. The colors were rich and vibrant, the mood of the moment perfectly captured. She gasped, her excitement bubbling over.

“Oh my gosh, Y/N, this is amazing! I love it!”

Y/N smiled, pleased with the reaction. “I’m glad you like it. I wanted to capture that feeling—you two looked so happy.”

The man, who Y/N assumed was Samantha’s father, peered at the screen, his green eyes narrowing slightly in thought. “That’s a great shot, but I thought you two had broken up?”

Samantha’s expression shifted instantly from joy to irritation. She shot her father a sharp look. “Dad, seriously? You don’t understand a thing, do you?”

Y/N watched the exchange, feeling a twinge of discomfort at the tension between them. It was clear there was something deeper going on beneath the surface.

Her father sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as if searching for the right words. “I’m just trying to look out for you, Sammy. You’re young, and sometimes boys aren’t as true as they seem.” Samantha crossed her arms, her voice defensive. “I know that, but we’re fine. It was just a stupid argument, okay? We’ve moved past it.”

Y/N, sensing the need to diffuse the situation, gently interjected. “It’s clear from the photos how much you care about each other. Relationships can be complicated, especially when you’re young, but it’s the love and the connection that really matter.”

Samantha’s expression softened as she glanced back at the image on the screen. “Yeah… you’re right. We do care about each other. I just wish Dad would stop worrying so much.”

Her father gave a small, resigned smile. “It’s my job to worry, Sam.

The moment of tension eased, and Y/N felt a sense of relief. She closed her laptop, feeling like she had intruded on a private moment. “Y/N, would you mind sending me a copy of that picture?” Samantha asked, her voice lighter now. “I’d love to print it out and hang it in my room.”

“Of course,” Y/N replied, smiling. “I’ll email it to you tonight.”

As they got up to leave, Samantha’s father paused, glancing back at Y/N with an expression that suggested he wanted to say something more. His green eyes flickered with a mixture of hesitation and thoughtfulness, but after a brief moment, he simply nodded and walked out the door, following Samantha.

Y/N watched them go, wondering what he had been about to say, but she didn’t dwell on it for long. Instead, she packed up her things and headed back to her cabin, where she spent the evening editing more photos, including the one Samantha loved. True to her word, she sent the image to Samantha later that night, feeling satisfied with the day’s work.

A few days later, Y/N found herself wandering through the small town, her camera slung over her shoulder as always. The sun was warm, casting a gentle glow over the streets, and she felt more at peace than she had in a long time. As she passed by the local high school, she noticed a group of students gathered around a bulletin board, hanging up posters and flyers.

Curious, Y/N walked over and saw Samantha among them, carefully pinning up a large picture of a race with bold lettering announcing a charity event. The flyer explained that the race was part of a school project to raise money for a local cause, and the image captured the excitement and energy of the event perfectly.

“Samantha!” Y/N called out, waving as she approached.

Samantha turned, her face lighting up when she saw Y/N. “Hey! What do you think?” she asked, gesturing to the poster she had just hung up.

“It looks great,” Y/N said, admiring the picture. “You’re doing this as a school project?”

“Yeah,” Samantha nodded enthusiastically. “We’re trying to raise money for a new sports field. The schoolpaper is doing a big feature on it, and we want to get as much coverage as possible.”

Y/N smiled, already anticipating what was coming next. Samantha’s passion for the project was infectious, and Y/N could see how much it meant to her.

So,” Samantha began, her tone hopeful, “I was wondering… would you be willing to take some pictures for the schoolpaper? I know it’s a lot to ask, and we don’t really have a budget, but it would mean so much to us. We’re hoping you might be able to do it for free?”

Y/N didn’t hesitate. “Of course, I’d love to help out,” she said warmly. “I’m happy to do it.”

Samantha’s face lit up with relief and gratitude. “Thank you so much, Y/N! This is going to make a huge difference.”

Y/N smiled, feeling a sense of fulfilment in being able to contribute to something meaningful. “Just let me know the details, and I’ll be there.” As they chatted about the upcoming event, Y/N couldn’t help but feel a renewed sense of purpose. The more she immersed herself in the community, the more she realized that this small town had given her something she hadn’t expected a new home.

The day of the event arrived with a clear, bright sky and a gentle breeze that carried the scent of grilled food and sweet treats from the stalls lining the field. Y/N had chosen a light blue summer dress, the fabric swaying around her legs as she moved. She’d even bought a new pair of cowboy boots, a nod to the local style, and felt a little thrill at how they clicked against the ground as she walked. She was trying to fit in with the laid-back yet distinctly Texan vibe of the town, and from the friendly nods and smiles she received, she figured she was doing a decent job.

The event was held at a large open field, which had been transformed into a lively fairground. There was a race track with wooden horses where kids lined up eagerly for their turn, a children’s rodeo that drew cheers and laughter from the crowd, lasso-throwing contests, and a variety of stalls offering everything from smoked brisket to homemade pies. The high school cheerleaders were busy running around in their uniforms, selling tickets for the upcoming football game, their energy infectious as they chattered and laughed, adding to the festive atmosphere.

Y/N wandered through the crowds, her camera slung around her neck, capturing the vibrancy of the day. She photographed the wooden horses mid-race, the concentrated faces of children trying to lasso a wooden calf, and the rows of colorful stalls filled with local treats. Everywhere she looked, there were moments worth preserving.

As she scanned the scene for her next shot, she spotted someone who immediately caught her eye. Dressed in all denim—jeans, a button-up shirt, and a well-worn cowboy hat—a man stood at the lasso-throwing area, his tall frame and broad shoulders making him stand out even in the crowd of similarly dressed locals. He had a short, neatly kept beard that added a rugged edge to his features, and as he moved, there was a calm confidence in his every gesture.

Y/N raised her camera, zooming in slightly, and watched through the lens as he skillfully threw the lasso, effortlessly roping the target. There was something about him that made him different from the countless other men she had seen that day, though she couldn’t quite put her finger on what it was. Maybe it was the ease with which he carried himself or the quiet intensity in his expression as he focused on the task at hand.

She snapped a few shots, capturing the moment as the lasso looped perfectly around the wooden steer. As she lowered the camera to check the images, she noticed him glance in her direction. Their eyes met briefly, and she felt a small jolt of surprise when he nodded and smiled, acknowledging her presence. There was a warmth in his smile, a subtle charm that seemed to suggest he was used to being watched but wasn’t bothered by it.

Just as Y/N was about to return the smile, Samantha popped up beside her, nearly startling her.

“That’s my dad,” Samantha said with a grin, clearly proud. “He wins at the lasso game every time. It’s not even fair, really—he’s been doing this since he was a kid, and owning a cattle ranch doesn’t hurt.”

Y/N looked back at Jensen—now realizing he was Samantha’s father—throwing another perfect lasso. It suddenly made sense why he seemed so familiar, even though she hadn’t met him properly before.

“So, he’s an expert, huh?” Y/N replied, watching as Jensen accepted a small prize from the booth operator with a casual wave of his hand.

“Yeah,” Samantha said, rolling her eyes playfully. “He’s good at just about everything when it comes to ranch stuff. Mom always said he could rope the moon if he wanted to.”

Y/N chuckled, amused by the image that conjured. She turned her camera back to the scene, snapping a few more pictures of the other contestants, but she found herself glancing back at Jensen every so often, intrigued by the man who seemed so much a part of this town yet somehow stood out to her in a way she couldn’t quite explain.

“Want to meet him?” Samantha asked, noticing Y/N’s lingering gaze.

Y/N hesitated for a moment. “Sure, why not?” she finally said, feeling a mix of curiosity and something she couldn’t quite name.

Samantha led the way through the crowd, weaving between people who greeted her with familiar smiles and nods. As they approached, Jensen looked up, his green eyes bright with recognition as he saw them coming. He tipped his hat slightly, a polite gesture that felt almost old-fashioned but perfectly in character.

“Dad, this is Y/N,” Samantha said, introducing them with a wide smile. “She’s the photographer I told you about—the one helping with the school paper.”

Jensen extended a hand, his grip firm but gentle. “Nice to meet you, Y/N. I’ve seen you around town a few times. You’re doing some good work with that camera.”

“Thank you,” Y/N replied, shaking his hand and noticing how warm and strong it felt. “I’ve been enjoying capturing the spirit of the town. It’s a lot different from New York.”

Jensen smiled, a touch of humor in his green eyes. “I figured you were a city girl.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. “What makes you say that?”

He glanced down at her new cowboy boots, then back up at her with a playful grin. “Let’s just say you’ve got a bit of a city way of dressing.”

Before Y/N could respond, a group of men called out to Jensen from across the fairground, waving him over. Jensen tipped his hat to Y/N with a slight, respectful nod. “If you’d excuse me, ma’am,” he said, his voice carrying a gentle Texas twang, before turning and heading toward the group.

Y/N watched him go, her mind still turning over his words. She glanced down at her boots, wondering what exactly he had meant. “What’s wrong with my boots?” she asked, turning to Samantha, a hint of confusion in her voice.

Samantha burst into laughter, the sound light and teasing. “Nothing’s wrong with them, I promise,” she said, grinning at Y/N’s puzzled expression. “My dad’s just old-fashioned. He can tell those boots are brand new—he’s used to seeing people in well-worn work boots around here. He wasn’t being serious, just poking a little fun.”

Y/N let out a relieved laugh, realizing that Jensen’s comment had been more about teasing than criticism. “So, it’s not about me looking out of place?”

Samantha shook her head, still smiling. “Not at all. It’s just his way of saying he noticed. You’re doing just fine—better than fine, actually. You’re fitting in more than you think.”

Y/N smiled, feeling reassured. “Thanks, Samantha. I guess I’ll just have to break these boots in a little more.”

“Yeah, maybe do a little more walking in them,” Samantha said with a wink. As the day wore on, Y/N continued to move through the fairground, her camera clicking away to capture the vibrant energy and joyful moments of the event. The wooden horses, the excited kids, the colorful stalls—all provided ample opportunities for great shots. Yet, despite her best efforts to focus on everything happening around her, her attention kept drifting back to Jensen.

He seemed to have an effortless way of commanding attention, even when he wasn’t actively posing. His tall, broad-shouldered frame and confident, relaxed demeanor made him stand out naturally. Y/N found herself repeatedly drawn to him, her lens finding him almost instinctively, as if he was the centerpiece of her day.

Jensen moved through the fairground with an easy grace, interacting with people, participating in games, and generally embodying the spirit of the event. Each time Y/N looked through her camera, he was there—his presence somehow adding a special quality to every shot. His laughter was infectious, his expressions genuine, and his movements so natural that he seemed to glide through the day with an effortless charm.

As she followed him around, Y/N couldn't help but feel a flutter of butterflies in her stomach. It was as though each snapshot of Jensen was more than just a photograph—it was a moment captured in time that held a kind of magic. Her favorite shot of the day came when Jensen was in the middle of a hearty laugh, his head thrown back, his eyes sparkling with joy. His perfect white teeth gleamed against the backdrop of the fairground, and there was something so incredibly captivating about the way he looked in that moment. The raw, unguarded joy he exuded made the photograph feel alive, brimming with the essence of the day.

Y/N looked at the image on her camera’s display, and her heart skipped a beat. The way Jensen's laughter was caught mid-air, the way his eyes crinkled with mirth—it was as if she had managed to capture a piece of his soul, and it was both thrilling and slightly unnerving. The fluttering in her stomach intensified, and she found herself smiling, unable to shake the feeling that there was something profoundly special about this moment.

As the sun began to set, casting a warm, golden light over the fairground, Y/N knew that this day would be one she wouldn’t forget. Jensen had unwittingly become the focal point of her photographs, and she couldn't deny that he had also become the focal point of her thoughts too.

-------

Please like, share or comment when you liked the story. If you liked this, please check out my masterlist for other stories.

Tag list:-> If you want to be added let me know what you like to read! If anyone feels like you're tagged too much, also let me know please. :)

@kr804573

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#The Road to Clarity #jensen ackles #fanfic #jensen fucking ackles #x reader #fluff #lovers #romantic #jensen daddy ackles #jensenedit #jackles

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youunravelme · 1 year ago

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slowly, then all at once

author's note: i'm going through some shit and needed to alleviate it with fluff and also it's mat's birthday (or at least it was when i started this)! EDIT: this takes place in an alternative TATGYLB universe bc went an ENTIRELY different direction with this series (because i don't plan well lolol). (stole the title from the fault in our stars because that book had me in a CHOKEHOLD at 14)

pairing: mat barzal x reader

warnings: none? cursing?

summary: the stages of mat falling in love with you

mat saw how you were with ella, the way you'd smile and talk to her like she could hold a conversation. or the way you never chided him or condescended to him when he did something completely stupid.

which is more than what he could say about his teammates.

so when he heard your piece of shit boyfriend screaming at you over the phone? or when he showed up unannounced and trying to "win you back?"

mat was livid.

he was sure jason had never hit you, because if there was any indication of that, mat would be all over it.

so while he's sure jason never inflicted physical harm, he saw the way you kept to yourself and even the way you looked surprised at his invitation to lunch or the game.

it broke his heart a little, to think that you'd never once considered yourself now a part of his life. when, in fact, the second you agreed to watch ella, it was like he'd pulled you into the fold.

he was on a mission to prove it to you.

inviting you to his game was the first step in his original plan.

well.

it was the first non intimidating step. (tito mentioned that maybe meeting his mom and sister after only knowing him for like a week was not the smartest move he'd ever made.)

you still looked out of your element when he asked, but he's positive that it was his own enthusiasm that convinced you to say yes.

and he thought it was a great idea! he got you and jason tickets, thinking that maybe you'd be more comfortable with having him around. and perhaps that was true at some point, but when he saw you, standing with only ella and sydney with water lining your eyes, something in his chest twisted.

you looked shaken, like someone had stuck you in a blender.

"where's jason?" was apparently the wrong thing to ask because sydney changed the subject almost immediately.

you wouldn't even look at him.

and when you told him about your piece of shit boyfriend leaving you?

mat wasn't prepared for the burning in his chest. no one got away with treating a friend of his that way, but seeing as you just avoided the topic altogether, he dropped it.

until you went upstairs to your apartment and didn't text him. tito would say he has a habit of hovering at times and maybe he never really agreed until five minutes passed without a word from you.

if you asked, he would've denied the intense concern growing in his chest. but how else was he supposed to react when you seemed so dissociated the rest of the night?

thankfully, you picked up almost immediately.

"hello?"

mat cleared his throat. "hey, you never texted me to say you got in alright. you okay?”

now it could've only been a few seconds, but it felt like a lifetime before he heard your voice.

“keep the car running, i’ll be down in a few minutes.”

mat was ready to grab ella and head upstairs, car be damned.

he couldn't hear what else really happened on the phone, he only knew that you came downstairs, empty handed, and frazzled. the sight alone had him contemplating going into your apartment to figure out exactly what was going on, but he knew the best decision was take you back to his place.

he'd figured it out when jason showed up with his daughter's car seat screaming at you for wearing his clothes. screaming at you like you were somehow in the wrong, like he wasn't the one who cheated on you.

you.

who had to be the most selfless person he knew (don't tell his mom).

you.

who had readily agreed to take care of his daughter on a whim because he was insanely scared.

you.

who was one of the only topic of conversation his mother wanted to discuss. it used to just be hockey and how he was doing. now the thirty minute phone calls turned into hour and a half long facetimes where ella and you are regular topics for discussion.

mat couldn't comprehend how someone could look at you and want to tear you down, but after you officially broke up with jason? he was determined to show you how much you deserved.

exhibit a

"it's five sugars, right?" mat called over his shoulder once he heard your footsteps coming into the kitchen.

you paused in the doorway. "what?"

mat turned around, two mugs of coffee in his hands. "you like five sugars, right?"

ella sat on your hip but didn't seem to give a flying fuck that he was in front of her.

"you--you remembered?" you tilted your head. "you only made me coffee like once?"

mat's face heated up at the implication but smirked anyway. "i have a great memory!"

"could've surprised me from the amount of times you get hit."

mat shrugged, still not completely used to the idea of you watching his games, even if they were just highlights. he held the mug out to you in exchange for ella.

"you wanna come to a game again?" he offered.

you looked at him before breaking eye contact and sipping your coffee. "i don't know if that's the best idea after last time. i don't want to embarrass you again--"

"woah woah woah," mat sat his coffee mug on the island before holding a hand up at you. it didn't sit right with him to see you so ashamed of something someone else did. "what happened at the game was not your fault. it was his, okay? you weren't to blame."

"you weren't even there to see it--"

"and i don't need to, okay? i know you." he meant it. but seeing as the conversation was getting a little too heavy, he changed the subject. "just think about it! and let me know what game you want to go to."

you didn't say anything, but just gave him a small smile and nodded.

he'd count it as a win.

exhibit b

it'd been about four months since you'd started working with mat, three months since you moved in.

not that he was counting.

there were things that were harder with having you around. mainly remembering to wear a shirt when he wakes up in the morning, or to not adjust his junk until he was in the bathroom or his bedroom.

but--

there were many more things that were significantly easier (and better) with you in his life (and apartment).

sleep training ella was easy as hell

keeping an eye on ella who was walking now

the apartment actually smelled nice? not that it smelled bad before, but now it smelled like a home.

and who knew decorative pillows made a difference?

but his favorite thing recently?

grocery shopping.

he was currently pushing ella around in a shopping cart while you scrolled on your phone through the list.

"so what do we need next?" he asked.

"if you'd give me a second, i'd have the answer for you," you snipped.

by now, mat was used to your snide comments, knowing that you were just a bit quippy when you were focused.

"ella, is your nanny being a little cranky?" he joked, ignoring the glare you were shooting his way.

you rolled your eyes and tossed a bag of bread at his head that would've hit its mark had he not had the reflexes that gave him a professional hockey career.

"excuse me?" an older woman spoke up from behind him. "as cute as your little family is, can you move out of the way? you're clogging up the aisle."

mat blinked. time froze. he'd never fully considered the implications of the three of you out in public together. but being the comment of you, him, and ella being a "little family" had his heart stopping in his chest.

"oh of course!" you spoke up and grabbed mat by the arm. the feel of your touch alone had him directing his attention to the physical contact.

he looked at you instead of the woman, watched as you mumbled to ella as you pulled all three of you out of the way. his brain went on overdrive.

god he never wanted you to let go of him ever again. he would give anything to just be able to hold onto you a little longer.

and he must've been thinking for too long because you were snapping your fingers in front of his face?

"mat? you okay? did i lose you there?" you had a cute pinch between your brows and a small frown on your face.

that wouldn't do.

so he smiled and nodded. "sorry, just thinking about something."

you.

exhibit c

you went out for the night with sydney while he hung out with tito and anders. initially, you said you'd look for a sitter to cover you, but mat laughed that suggestion off.

he didn't say it, but you were no longer a nanny to him anymore. and you deserved a night off without the stress of finding a replacement. anders and marty suggested a babysitter that he hired for the night immediately.

"are you sure you don't want me to wait until she gets here? i can help explain ella's routine!" you said.

mat rolled his eyes as he herded you towards the door. "i'll be fine, go have fun!"

you let him gently push you out of the door but turned around and looked at him. "if you need me, text me."

mat smiled. "if you need me, call me."

the babysitter arrived five minutes early which meant mat could spend that time kissing ella's cheeks and reiterating her schedule to the sitter.

he was the last person at the bar, anders and tito were already sitting in a booth, each with a beer in their hands, an extra one on the table for him (he assumed).

"didn't wanna leave ella?" anders asked.

tito scoffed. "more like he didn't wanna leave mama bear." mat rolled his eyes while anders cackled in response.

"shut up, beau."

"ah! but you didn't deny it!"

mat shook his head and took a seat in the leather booth. "what's there to deny? we're roommates and she watches ella all the time. we're friends."

tito made a noise in the back of his throat. "you and i are friends, barzy. you make goo goo eyes at her when you think no one is looking."

"no i don't."

anders piped in. "you nearly ran into me on the ice because you were staring at her wearing your jersey."

"no," he defended. "ella was making a really cute face!"

anders blinked at him before rolling his eyes. "sure, barzy."

mat grumbled under his breath and chugged half his beer.

two hours or so had passed with the three of them talking shit about other teams. anders had hinted at leaving, checking his phone just to make sure grace didn't text him. mat found himself doing the same thing to make sure the babysitter hadn't said anything, or maybe to see if you had.

tito didn't seem to give two shits about his phone. and why would he? he was the only one without kids.

they were in the middle of a conversation about the upcoming devils game when mat's phone started buzzing.

sydney martin.

mat picked up the phone, albeit a bit confused. "hello?"

"mat! hey!" sydney greeted. "are you busy?"

mat glanced at tito and anders whose brows were furrowed. "no, why what's up?" his swore his heart stopped in his chest when she said your name. "is she okay? what's wrong?"

"she's a little drunk and crying and asking for you. i don't know if you're sober enough--"

"i'm sober," he said. "only had one beer." he was already reaching for his keys in his pocket. "what's she crying about?"

sydney sighed through the phone. "we saw jason and her old roommate out at the bar tonight. he made a few comments."

mat's jaw clenched. he forced words out through his teeth. "what did he say?"

"mat--"

"no, if he said some shit, sydney, i need to know."

"no," she corrected. "what you need to do is get over here and take her home."

mat was already standing. "i'm on my way."

sydney hung up.

"everything okay?" anders asked.

"probably something to do with mama bear," tito commented.

mat sighed. "she ran into her piece of shit ex and is now inconsolable. i have to go pick her up."

anders snorted. "right. 'have to.'"

mat ignored the comment and said goodbye, already rushing out of the bar to get to you.

it was another ten minutes before he saw you, standing outside a bar with sydney. he could see your tears from the car.

mat jumped out and hurried towards you. sydney all but pushed you into his arms.

and it felt like the world made sense again. you fit perfectly in his arms, against his chest, head tucked into his neck.

"mat--" you sobbed. "i--i can't--"

he kissed the top of your head. "let's get you home, okay?"

exhibit d

ella was saying actual words now like most babies her age. mat used to look at anders, marty, and other parents a little judgmentally, he'll admit, because while babies learning to do things was incredibly cool, he didn't fully understand the hype.

until she said dada for the first time.

it damn near made him cry.

and like for all of her other milestones, you were there beside him with your phone recording the moment. you almost missed it, but you had a sixth sense for those things, figuring out when ella was going to do something incredible.

that was two weeks ago and it still never got old to hear her say his name when he came home or rounded the corner.

he'd been known as mathew, mat, barzy, barzal, gary, and a slew of other names, but dada had to be his favorite. to belong to someone who needed you so wholly was the best feeling in the world.

that and seeing you smile at him.

he'd accepted it now, there was no denying it, not after half the team was on his case about his feelings for you. and how could he not fall in love with you? you were gentle and kind and handled the shittiest situations with so much grace (he wasn't joking, he'd wanted to fight jason the second you came out of your old apartment looking like you'd seen a ghost).

you handled his friends with ease, never letting tito's teasing affect you. you handled the "mama bear" nickname with ease, even laughing at it at times.

you just made his world so much better just by existing in it.

which is why he gave you the day off while he and tito took ella around the city.

ella was fine for most of the day, though she kept glancing around.

"probably looking for mama bear," tito guessed. "i would be too if you were the one looking after me."

mat flipped him off behind ella's back. "i'm not an idiot."

"before you met mama bear, you kinda were."

he rolled his eyes. "sorry for not knowing how to take care of a baby as soon as i find out i have one. most people have nine months to prepare for the arrival of a child. ella literally showed up on my doorstep."

truth be told, he was parroting the words you'd said to him a week ago when the guilt settled in about how much of a shitty father he was. you were quick to correct him, saying the exact things he told tito, that for a man who found out he had a child only a few months ago, he was doing a great job, and he was even better than some other fathers who left the parenting to their partner.

"i'd never leave you hanging like that," he'd said to you.

but you shrugged off his comment. "it's a little different when it's my job to take care of your kid, mat."

"you've done a great job, barzy," beau said, clapping a hand on his shoulder. "there's no doubt about it. you can tell because she loves you."

ella smiled at mat and pushed his cheeks together.

"what do you say we get back to mama bear, huh?" he asked his daughter who only seemed to smile wider at the mention your nickname.

it was another fifteen minutes before they were home, rowdy and disturbing the peace and quiet you'd created for yourself.

"we're back!" mat called as tito shut the front door behind him.

they were setting things down on the floor by the door when you walked out in sweats.

"mama bear!” tito cheered.

you smiled and mat couldn't breathe. "how was my baby?"

mat was embarrassed to say he almost answered for himself. "she was great," was what he said instead. "isn't that right, ella bean?"

ella was reaching for you, making grabby hands in your general direction babbling something he couldn't quite make out.

"what'd you say, baby?" you asked.

"mama," she said.

and the room went silent.

mat's eyes kept darting from ella to you like he was watching a game of olympic table tennis. ella kept reaching for you until you finally gave in and held her. it was then he saw the tears streaming down your cheeks.

mat immediately went into defense mode.

"i'm sorry, i promise i didn't teach her intentionally, she probably picked it up from us calling you mama bear all the time and--"

you shut him up by placing a small kiss on his cheek and squeezing his forearm before turning on your heel.

"let's take a nap, ella bean."

mat couldn't speak, not even when you left the room. tito clapped him on the shoulder before heading towards the kitchen.

"you're so gone for her."

exhibit e

"are you sure about this?" you called from the other room. mat was in the living room adjusting his tie in the mirror on the wall while the babysitter was playing with ella on the floor.

to be honest, when he was complaining to beau about not having a date to some charity event the islanders were hosting, he wasn't expecting beau to suggest you. though, given how beau kept winking and nudging him after every time you and mat so much as made eye contact, it shouldn't have been surprising.

it wasn't that he didn't think of asking you, it was more like he didn't think you'd actually say yes.

"sure about what?" he called back.

"bringing me."

"i've never been more sure about something in awhile."

"you're so dramatic," you laughed.

mat would give anything to bottle up the sound.

"does this look okay?' mat turned when your voice sounded closer than it was a second ago.

he couldn't breathe.

god you looked beautiful.

"oh," you said softly. "your tie matches my dress."

if he could've he would've looked down to confirm your observation, but he couldn't take his eyes off you. your hair was perfectly styled, your makeup, flawless. the navy of your dress was perfectly matched to his tie and pocket square, something that shouldn't matter as much to him as it did.

but it was you.

so it meant the world.

you looked like you were his.

"yeah," was all he could say.

"you never answered my question," you said. "do i look okay? because if it's too much--"

"perfect," he said. "you look perfect."

you smiled. "sydney picked it out." thank you sydney. "you look handsome too mat, though, your tie..." you gestured to his neck so he turned around to see it crooked still. "do you need help?"

"yes please," he sighed. "i've looked up videos, but tito usually helps me do it."

"aw," you cooed. "you looked it up? that's so cute!" your deft fingers began undoing the knot and redoing it way better than he could've.

"how are you so good at this?"

you shrugged. "when i was fourteen, i read a book where a girl tied her husband's tie and i wanted to be able to do the same for the love of my life one day. so i asked my dad to teach me. i'm a bit of a hopeless romantic."

the love of your life.

god he'd give anything to be loved by you.

and it would be so easy just to lean forward a couple of inches and kiss you.

right there.

give in to what he'd been feeling for months.

but the babysitter rounded the corner with ella who was chanting mama and dada which somehow ruined the mood and made him want to kiss you even more.

"be good, sweet girl. we'll see you tomorrow." you made your way to the front door while he kissed his daughter on the head.

"i'm not sure how long we'll be out, but i'll keep you updated," he told the babysitter.

the babysitter nodded, which to be honest, he barely noticed because his attention was back on you and how your dress, while it had sleeves, had a dip in the back. he didn't know that skin could be so alluring, but maybe it was the fact that it was you.

mat cleared his throat and bid the babysitter and ella goodbye before ushering the both of you out of the door.

the drive lasted longer than he wanted it to, mainly because he couldn't wait to get to the event just to show you off.

was this how he was supposed to feel with all of his other exes? the desire to show the world you were his?

"you okay? you're quiet, it's unlike you," you said.

mat shrugged, mainly so he didn't immediately profess his feelings. "just a lot on my mind."

"uh oh. that can't be good," you joked. you leaned over the console and placed your chin in your hand. "you wanna talk about it?"

mat's hands on the wheel tensed, mainly to keep himself from leaning over and kissing you immediately.

"i'm good, maybe we can discuss it later."

you shrugged. "if you say so."

the both of you arrived at the event shortly thereafter with mat passing his keys off to the valet. "stay seated," he told you before getting out and rounding the car to open your door.

"you didn't have to--"

"i know," he smiled. "i wanted to." mat offered you his arm and you took it, wrapping your hand around his bicep like it belonged there.

the two of you spotted marty and sydney first; the latter all but shrieked when she saw you.

"you look amazing!" she said before tugging you out of mat's arm and into her own. "i told you this dress was the one."

"you didn't say i would've matched mat," you mumbled, though he still heard it over the buzz in the room. he was always listening to you.

marty nudged him. "you seem pleased with yourself."

mat smiled. "i am."

you were laughing at something sydney said when tito came up and clapped him and marty on the shoulders. "let's get you a drink, barzy. you look thirsty." he leaned in. "in more than one way."

mat shoved him off and leaned towards you, gently touching your arm. "i'm going with beau and marty to get a drink, but i'll be back."

you smiled and nodded. "okay, don't worry about me, mat. i'll be fine in your absence."

he let himself be whisked away from you and towards the bar where a drink was placed in his hand pretty quickly.

"so," tito started. "you two match."

"it was syd's doing," marty explained. "she orchestrated the whole thing. picked out the dress based on the tie mat wears every year. it was her new project."

mat flushed but did his best to brush it off.

"i don't know how you did it barzy," tito continued. "she looks good. if i were you i would've--"

"watch it, beauvillier."

"i was gonna say--"

"i don't care what you were gonna say, i probably wouldn't have liked it."

"well then, maybe you should take a chance and ask her out finally. the pining was cute at first, now it's bordering on pathetic."

mat rolled his eyes while marty laughed into his drink.

"look, you have a good thing going, you brought her here as your date, ella calls her mama, you two are as good as locked in and committed. you just have to do the hard work of officially asking her out!"

his gaze travelled to the other side of the room where you were laughing along with sydney and grace. you looked like you belonged in his world.

effortlessly.

mat made a move to go over to you, but marty caught his arm. "this is not the place to ask her out," he said. "as much as you want to, you don't want her thinking it took a pretty dress to get you to take her out."

"that's not the case here--"

"does she know that?"

mat rolled his eyes and took a sip of his drink.

it was another thirty minutes before he made his way back to you. he found you standing alone on the balcony with a glass of champagne in your hand.

"you okay?" he asked. "no one's bothering you or anything, right?"

you looked over your shoulder and snorted. "i'm not important enough to be bothered by the donors, mat."

"don't say that. you're important."

you rolled your eyes. "not what i meant, mathew."

god he loved it when you said his name.

"i just meant that the donors don't really pay attention to me, so i've just been hanging out with the wives all night since my date ditched me," you teased.

"okay to be fair, tito pulled me away, i would've stayed with you all night if i could've."

you blinked. "really?" you asked in a small voice.

he nodded until he found the words to speak. "i love spending time with you. you're one of my favorite people."

within a split second you were closing the distance between the two of you and wrapping your arms around his waist. your arms snuck under his coat so that the only thing separating your skin from his was the thin material of his dress shirt.

it only took him a split second to react to the hug and wrap you in his arms.

you mumbled against his chest. "you're one of my favorite people, too."

in conclusion:

in the end, there was nothing special about that day. it was a saturday in the middle of july back in coquitlam. by the grace of god, he'd convinced you to come to canada for him, not that you could really refuse as he was the one signing your paychecks, you'd joked (though he made it clear he'd continue paying you even if you didn't go).

and maybe he regretted it a little bit, seeing you bond with his family was another nail in his coffin of falling deeper in love with you. there was no way out now, not that he'd ever want one.

it was one particularly hot day in the summer that mat dragged you and the rest of his family to the beach. and maybe that was a mistake (seeing you in a red bikini in public should be illegal).

you sat in the sand with ella building castles, or at least attempting to, while he tried to drown liana in the water. it wasn't until liana finally dunked him, that he trudged back to shore, bent out of shape and irritated.

"you can dish it out but can't take it?" you teased as he plopped onto the sand next to you.

mat glared instead of saying anything mainly because ella was starting to pick up more and more words and she'd say "fuck" too many times thanks to his mouth.

speaking of, when she saw her dad, ella immediately called him before throwing herself into his lap, completely forgetting about you. it was funny to see mainly because it was a new trend of ella's, ditching you for him. it was even funnier because how put out you'd be about it.

just like now with your lip poked out and your eyes rolling.

"oh don't be a sore loser," mat said. "she used to love you more than me."

"well that makes sense, i'm way more likable than you are."

"i can't argue that."

liana came running into their direct line of sight with a polaroid camera in her hand. "i wanna get a picture of the happy family," she said as her explanation. "say cheese!"

mat froze but you didn't bat an eyelash at the idea of being called family. sure, he'd considered you a part of his ever since you agreed to watch his child, but he didn't know you felt the same.

"smile, mathew," you nudged him in the ribs.

he turned his head towards you, ignoring his sister's groans and chirps. he ignored the sound of a camera clicking and the subsequent flash that followed.

his focus was on you.

"mat, what're you looking at?" you asked. he could vaguely register liana walking away as your eyes searched his face for any hint of what could be going on, but all he could think about was you.

you wearing his jersey and holding ella at the stanley cup finals.

you in a few years with a ring on your left hand that he put there.

you with a newborn baby that was the perfect mix of the both of you.

you, old and crinkly, holding his hand on the couch as you told your grandkids stories.

you.

before he could even stop himself, he leaned forward and captured your lips with his.

you responded not a beat later.

and maybe it was embarrassing, how eager he was or how his hand felt like the perfect fit against your cheek. but he couldn't give a shit.

not when he'd waited so long for something like this. for someone like this.

and when you both pulled away, much too soon in his opinion, your eyes were wide.

"why'd you do that?" you whispered.

he shrugged and adjusted ella in his arms. "because my life is better with you in it. because i love you." he cleared his throat. "why'd you kiss me back?"

you smiled and leaned into kiss him again. this time though, instead of pulling fully away, you stayed close so that your lips brushed his. "because i love you too."

#mat barzal #nhl imagines #nhl imagine #tatgylb #mat barzal imagine #mat barzal x reader #my writing

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lesbiankimdahyun · 6 months ago

Note

Desperately need the next part for summer session I WANT TO KNOW IF IM NOT A CHICKEN FOR MISS SANA PLSANDJSJS

here it is!!

SUMMER SESSION III

2.9K words

CW: scissoring, face sitting, other gay activity using toys ;)

AN: this is most likely the last installment!

[Sana x F!Reader]

Requested: Yes

“You’re gonna run out of clothes, bestie,” Chaeyoung said, “And time.”

“Ugh,” you replied, readjusting your phone to give the tiny version of your friend on FaceTime a better view. “I know I know, just tell me what you think.” You stepped back into the frame of your full length mirror so Chaeyoung could get a glimpse of your outfit. She leaned in toward the screen, trying to get a better look.

Clothes that didn’t feel right littered your floor, bed, and hung haphazardly on hangers in your wide open closet. This was your fourth outfit change and you were about to start sweating. “Well?”

Chaeyoung took in your outfit– a simple white tank with a cropped, textured, short sleeve lilac button up over it, and dark denim shorts.

“You look…” she paused. “Well, gay. Okay great! Now hurry up and add a watch or some jewelry so you can go!”

You rolled your eyes a little, picking up your phone and reaching for the jewelry stand on your dresser. “Just gay? Oh whatever, as long as I don’t look stupid.”

The blonde-haired girl beamed at you from her New York City studio apartment. “She’ll like it,” she said, then smirked. “But you didn’t need any help from me for this, really. Not when those clothes are gonna end up coming off anyway!”

“Hey!”

Her burst of laughter cut off your chances of getting a smart reply in. Chae waved at you. “My job here’s done. I gotta go meet a few friends now but good luuuuuck!” Her sing-songy voice cut off as the call ended.

You thought about sending her a snarky reply via text, but when you put on your watch and saw how close to seven it was, you decided to forgo it. Instead, you opened the chat you had going with Sana as you locked the door behind you, told her you’d be there soon, then headed for the train station.

Sana’s apartment was modern and clean, but still very personalized to her style. As she showed you around her kitchen and living space, a few things caught your eye.

“Is that like… vintage Betty Boop?” you asked.

Sana smiled at you. “Yeah,” she said, glancing up at the framed image hanging on her wall. “One of two hundred original, signed, limited edition lithographs.” She blushed a little. “I uh, I really like Betty Boop. She’s just so cute! Yet sexy...”

Her bookshelf caught your eye, too. But not for the books. In fact, only the bottom shelf had books. The rest held other personal belongings of hers. The top shelves were dedicated to perfume bottles– some new, some that must have been a few decades old. The middle shelves were full of small photos and knickknacks.

You pointed at a photo of Sana with a couple other girls on either side of her. “Who are they?” you asked, suddenly noticing just how many photos she had with the two other dark haired girls. One of them had a cute, shy gummy smile and distinct beauty marks. The other girl had a long, shoulder length wolf cut with bangs that lay perfectly across her forehead. She was intimidatingly pretty, just like the other girl.

“My best friends from home,” Sana replied, picking up the framed photo. “That’s Mina,” she said, pointing to the girl with the beauty marks. She pointed to the girl with the wolf cut. “And that’s Momo!”

“Wow,” you said. “How long have you known each other?”

Sana paused to think. “It’s been…gosh, maybe ten years? It feels like I’ve known them forever, though. I’m trying to convince them to visit next summer.”

You smiled as she set the framed photo back in its place on her shelf. “I hope they do,” you said. “They seem cool.”

When you were done admiring Sana’s space, the two of you ordered food. As you waited for it to arrive, you hung out on Sana’s couch while she introduced you to her favorite kr&b duo, UJB. While you acquainted yourself with the duo’s two idols, Jihyo and Jeongyeon, Sana made mixed drinks for the both of you.

“Their music is so good,” you said when she sat back down and handed you a glass. “Okay be real– do you have a favorite out of the two?”

Sana laughed, a sound you liked the more you heard it. “I love them both a lot,” she said, pausing to take a sip of her drink. “Obviously. But if I had to choose…” she nodded toward the shorter, raven-haired woman on the screen. “It’d be Jihyo.”

When your food finally arrived, you arranged it carefully on Sana’s coffee table while she refreshed drinks for the both of you and grabbed plates and cutlery. The mouthwatering scent of bulgogi, spicy pork, steamed mixed veggies, rice and summer salad filled the room. Sana came back with not only drinks, but two tiny shot glasses and a fresh bottle of soju.

“What’s all this?” you asked, eyeing the shot glasses as you reached for a napkin and plate.

“I hope you don’t mind,” Sana said, reaching for the remote. “But I’ve always wanted to try…” she pulled up Jennifer’s Body, ready to stream. “...the drinking game to this.”

“Oh, sure,” you said, filling your plate while Sana filled hers. “I love this movie.”

At first, you thought you wouldn’t be drinking that much considering there were only eight rules to follow for the drinking game, but Sana insisted on alternating between the pure soju and your mixed drinks. Soon you were feeling much less self conscious and a little braver with some alcohol in your system. Before long, both of your plates sat unattended with only a few bites left on each as you got more into the movie’s plot and the drinking game.

Your nerves about why Sana had invited you over in the first place were almost gone, until the scene in Needy’s bedroom was suddenly on screen and you felt a bit of heat rise to your face. You couldn’t bear to look at Sana as you watched Jennifer kneel on Needy’s bed, tucking her hair behind her ears and adjusting her glasses on top of her head. Their lips met shortly after, and you glanced away. Sana, on the other hand, sat engrossed, leaning in slightly as Needy climbed on top of Jennifer on screen and leaned down to kiss her.

“When’s the last time you kissed someone like that?” Sana asked suddenly, making you jump a little.

“Wh-what?” you forced yourself to only look at the screen, watching for a moment. “Oh, uh… it’s been a while,” you said. Without really thinking, you then said, “You?”

Sana chuckled. “Hmm. A while for me, too,” she replied. You nodded a little, suddenly very aware of how much distance had closed between you and Sana since the movie started. You had been sitting more toward the corner, facing her with one arm lazily draped over the top of the couch, and now Sana was nearly resting against your arm. You kept your eyes on the screen, swallowing hard.

Sana reached for the remote, turning down the volume of the movie. “Would you kiss me like that?”

You blushed. You nodded before your voice finally caught up with you. “Y-yes,” you said meekly, finally daring to look in Sana’s direction. She was already looking at you.

“Okay,” she said, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. You turned to face her, and as you did, you could practically feel the energy of the room shift. The attraction between the two of you was almost palpable now, and it gave you a much-needed bit of courage.

You sat up a bit, resting your hand on her knee as you moved. You leaned in a little and so did she. You were about to tilt your head when she spoke suddenly, softly.

“I…” Sana hesitated. “I just want you to know I really do think you’re attractive, I’m not just doing this because we’ve been drinking and—”

She trailed off, eyes fixated on your mouth. Noticing this, you moved forward then, finding your confidence finally as your lips met with hers. Sana let out a muffled noise of surprise, then quickly kissed you again, giving you permission to continue.

Her lips were soft and her touches even softer. She opened her mouth a bit, inviting you in to taste her. Her hands gently pulled on your wrists, and it was all you needed to be able to lead from there. As your fingertips focused on lightly trailing over her forearms and waist, you continued to kiss her, a little deeper, then deeper still until she finally broke away to come up for air.

Sana’s cheeks were a deep, flushed pink and her eyes slightly hooded as she looked at you.

“Do you— um…” Sana struggled to find her words and bit her lip to keep a goofy smile off her face. You waited patiently, amused by this new side of hers. It was like finally, your roles had traded. You felt much more bold, while Sana seemed to only get shyer. “My room’s this way,” she said finally, getting up and taking your hand.

You barely had time to look around Sana’s room before she was pulling you down onto her bed with her. Your lips met hers again and you laid back on her bed, pulling her on top of you. Her hands pulled your short sleeve button up away from your sides as she kissed you, then moved toward your white tank tucked into your shorts. Meanwhile, you worked on Sana’s shirt, a dark off-the-shoulder long sleeve. Before you knew it, both of your clothes had been abandoned on her bedroom floor. You could see out of the corner of your eye through Sana’s window that the sun was setting, but one of her lamps turned on automatically a few moments later, filling your corner of the bedroom with an incredibly soft, yellow glow while everything else fell away to shadows.

Sana was kissing her way down your neck fervently, one hand working its way between your legs. At first you thought she was going to touch you, but then she started pulling you closer. You were confused for a moment until you figured out what she was trying to do. You took your hands away for a moment to adjust your legs and the distribution of your weight, and then Sana’s; one of her legs over yours, and one of your legs over hers.

“Better?” you asked softly, pulling Sana closer to you. In all of your experience, scissoring had never been able to make you get even remotely close to coming, but if it was what she wanted and needed to get off, you were more than willing to do it.

Sana nodded eagerly, looking down to watch as your body met with hers. You closed your eyes, stifling a moan when you felt her wetness on yours. You tried not to think about all of the other things you’d rather be doing to her, focusing instead on trying to help her grind into you. It was nearly impossible to get a good rhythm going, but your own lust skyrocketed and you found yourself grinding back against her, trying to get your aching core any sort of satisfaction and relief.

The more the two of you worked at it, the more labored both of your breathing became.

“Is…this comfortable for you?” you asked after a few minutes, panting lightly.

“Kinda,” Sana replied. Her eyes roamed everywhere over your body. She grabbed at your thighs, squeezing lightly, then set her gaze back on your mouth. She paused for a moment. “Actually…” she said, “I think I know what I’d like even better.”

She reached for you to kiss you, gently untangling her body from yours as her tongue explored your mouth. You found yourself lying down on her bed with Sana climbing on top of you. Her long, brown hair tickled your face as she kissed you, and then she stopped.

“I… want to feel you,” she said, her brown eyes looking down at you for approval. “Put that mouth to work for me?” You nodded eagerly, sliding down more so Sana had room to hover above your face. You held onto her thighs as she lowered herself down, her breath hitching when she felt your tongue on her.

You started slowly, taking your time to lick the length of Sana’s wet cunt. She held onto the headboard of her bed, eyes closed. Your tongue teased her entrance, making her gasp, and then moved toward her clit. She tried to be quiet at first, but you gave the back of her thighs a playful squeeze. “I like being able to hear you,” you murmured. “Don’t be shy.”

Sana half laughed, half moaned as you lapped at her clit. “Y-you’re one to ta– oh, there, right there,” she said. She sank lower onto your face, her thighs warm and snug against the sides of your face. “F-fuck,” she breathed, starting to roll her hips. Your own noises of delight were muffled under her pussy, but Sana appreciated them just the same.

Your chin, nose and lips became soaked in her juices as you continued to eat her out. You could tell it felt much better for Sana than scissoring had because her breathing slowly became more shallow and her once quiet moans were getting louder.

“Oh, god…” Sana’s body involuntarily shuddered a little. “That feels so…” she trailed off, grinding against your mouth a little faster. “Yes…”

But then, just as you were working yourself back into a rhythm that seemed to really please her, she stopped again. She lifted herself off of you, giving you both a few moments to catch your breath.

“Are you okay?” you asked, slightly worried. “Did I hurt you?”

Sana smiled, still panting lightly. “No, no, not at all,” she said. “I was actually…” she tucked some of her hair behind her ears. “I could’ve come like that. Well, I mean, I wanted to, but I… I think I’m too shy to come in your mouth,” she finally admitted. “But,” she added quickly, “I do want to come.”

You nodded, sitting up a bit and wiping part of your face with the back of your hand. “How would you like to?”

“Hmm.” Sana climbed toward the edge of her bed for a moment, letting the top half of her body disappear momentarily as she leaned over the side to grab a small box under her bed. You quickly looked away from checking out her hips and ass when she sat back up. When she turned to face you, she held a light purple, seven inch toy in her hand. She blushed, but you grinned.

“I can work with this,” you said. “Lie back,” you instructed, taking the toy from her. You kissed your way down her body, lightly twisting one of her nipples as you moved. You settled in between her legs, kissing and licking your way to her wet pussy.

“Do you want me to touch you too, or do you want to?” you asked softly. In response, Sana snaked one hand down between her legs, rubbing her clit lightly. Your own cunt clenched involuntarily around nothing as you positioned the head of the toy at her entrance. You rubbed it along her folds a bit, soaking it with her own juices before finally slipping the head in.

Sana threw her head back, opening her legs a little wider. “M-more,” she said. “Please.”

You prayed your own wetness would drip down your thighs instead of onto her bedding, talking to Sana softly as you worked more of the length of the toy inside her. “You look so pretty like this,” you told her. Sana rubbed her clit as you fucked her, eyes locked on you as the toy slid in and out of her dripping pussy with ease.

“God, you make that feel good,” she said, her entire body flush from pleasure.

“And you,” you said, listening to the lewd sounds of her receptive, wet pussy, “make it sound even better.” You leaned down to kiss her, letting Sana lick your lips and tongue. Her hips bucked as you fucked her, her body trying to get more of the toy inside as her fingers rubbed away at her clit desperately.

“R-right there,” Sana said after a while. Her body had been growing more and more tense the closer she got, and you could tell she was extremely close now.

“Nngh- f-fuck, there,” she reached down and put her other hand over yours, helping you fuck her deeper and faster. Her breathing was ragged. You wondered how she was getting any air at all when suddenly she let out a cry, hitting her peak. Her body collapsed completely as she came, letting out light, breathy moans. It was one of the prettiest sounds you’d ever heard. You supported her body as she relaxed into post-orgasm bliss, and gently worked the toy out of her. The moan she let out when you finally slid it all the way out nearly made you feral as you set it aside on her nightstand.

“Thank you,” Sana said breathlessly. “Wow.” She rolled over, eyeing you for a moment curiously. “To be honest, I’m more of a pillow princess,” she said, glancing at your neglected, soaked cunt. “But I’d love to watch you touch yourself.” Then she smiled mischievously. “You uh, don’t happen to own a harness for a strap, do you?”

#twice imagines #twice x f!reader #twice x fem reader #sana imagines #pillow princess sana #anonymous #ask #answered

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rockethorse · 1 year ago

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Stocking Stuffer 1/5: A Bajillion Random Painting Recolours

Happy Holidays to all! While I'm proud that last year I finally managed to achieve a longtime goal of sharing a full TS2 Advent Calendar, I'm simply not gonna be able to pull it off this year. Nonetheless, the holidlay spirit has encouraged me to finish up and share a couple of things before the end of the year! I'll be sharing five little gifts over the next few arbitrary days. First up: A BUNCH of Maxis painting recolours.

One recolour each of A/B/C Stroke (yes, I still enjoy playing with these as three separate paintings) using vintage matchbook covers designed by Saul Bass for The Ohio Match Company.

Two recolours +frames for Abstrutionism; "Poppy Cake" by Adolf Fényes (1910), and then this edit of Christina's World by Andrew Wyeth (1948) to include Bella Goth (the original Tumblr poster has deactivated).

A recolour of Anonymous Masterpiece with these two digital paintings by user chestnutroan featuring their farmer Sim and his two alien daughters.

One recolour of the Arghist Soldier with "Friday Nights" by Deborah DeWit (2006), perfect for your novel-enthusiast Sims' reading nook.

One recolour of City Skyline with a fruit & veg painting by Twitter user snail_soup (you can buy a real print of this too if you like it!)

One recolour of the Fourth Element wall scroll with "From Stardust to Stardust - Raccoon" by user ArtOfMienda.

Four Vegetables recoloured with four deliciously juicy tomato paintings by artist Leah Gardner.

Geometry 101 recoloured with a beautiful palette knife painting by Lynn Boggess.

Two recolours of Grilled Cheese (you all know what Grilled Cheese looks like, c'mon); one vintage ad for Hollywood Diet bread which I cleaned/redrew to remove text/graphics, and then "Cloud Rows" by Ivan Eyre (2004).

In The Beginning (+frame) recoloured with "Little Thief" by Courtney / Trash Kitty Art (also available as an affordable IRL print).

Kitten vs. Yarn (+frame) recoloured with this goache painting by user ieafy.

"Until Tonight" by Mark Grantham (2019) slapped on Lady On Red.

Two recolours of Living Room; "Midwestern Summer Fun" by user ink-the-artist (you may wanna zoom in for a surprise), then "Girl On A Swing" (2000) by Andrew Macara.

One recolour of Marketing Print with the Beatles as drawn by other Beatles. I don't remember who drew who because I'm actually not much of a Beatles fan but I thought these sketches were really darling.

In Memory of Johnny Gnome (+frame) recoloured with a piece by Emma Roulette.

A recolour of My First Holiday with art from Twitter user heikala_art.

On Pointed Toes (+frame) recoloured with this digital painting by Twitter user catwheezie.

I fell in love with this Guinness ad so I tweaked it from the photo to fit on the Route 66 poster, then made an accompanying Simlish option.

A single Scruffles recolour (+frame) with this adorable cow illustration by Twitter user poodlewool.

Four recolours of the Sim Noir pop art print; three pieces by Al Parker I found through this Tweet (with some English removed) and then an edit of the original painting to look passingly familiar...

Two recolours (+frames) of Snoozing Enemies; "The Cat on the Pillow" by Adolf von Becker, and "Sleeping Sasha" by Lena Rivo.

Stiller Life (+frame) recoloured with this oil painting of McDonalds by artist Noah Verrier.

Two recolours (+frames) of Stumped Hound; "Shadow" by Tianyi Zhou and "cat falling off table" by user anasauruss.

The Muse recoloured with this Juxtapoz magazine cover by artist Josh Courlas.

And lastly, three recolours of Untitled (the Bella Goth pop art painting) with works by Hiroshi Nagai.

Download All Paintings @ SFS

#the sims 2 #s2cc #sims 2 cc #Stocking Stuffers

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arcanegifs · 3 months ago

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On Gifmaking:

So season 2's coming soon, and I wanna reflect on making gifs ever since I came back to Tumblr. I can't believe it's been 2 years of making gifs for this show!!!!! Look at how large my folder is lmao

And those are JUST gifs lol

Anyways, over time, my style has changed, especially how I color edit Arcane gifs. I kind of strayed away from a stylized filter color into just something that looks a lot more "natural" and works with the original scene.

Initially, I thought I'd save time, but I ended up not using my old arcane preset PSDs and resulted to coloring almost every scene manually. So in the end, it takes even longer to make them HAHAHA. It takes around an hour and a half for me to make a 10 gif set, basically. It also helps that I have a photography background, so coloring/editing is a lot simpler for me.

Here's a lil before and after of a dark scene (hiiiii viiiiiii <3)

Arcane is a REALLY dark show, but it goes for most of TV shows. Many of them are darker and harder to bring up the lights to make stuff look nice as gifs. Some people don't like to color their gifs, and that's okay. I personally just like color edited gifs more.

I've started learning how to upscale scenes myself, so that I have a better resolution and leeway to make things look "HD" more.

If you're wondering why my stuff look so "crisp", it's a combination of the scene's lighting, my sharpening settings on Photoshop and knowing how to upscale everything into 4k resolution. Of course, doing this needs an extremely beefy pc, which I am very lucky to own one.

Here's another before and after of a nicely lit scene. These are much, MUCH easier to do than all the darkly lit scenes because of shadows and lighting (caitlyn kiramman truly the rizzler <3)

I've been very lucky to be able to essentially take a nice, long break for like a month doing nothing after being so damn busy for the last year and a half, so it's nice that I was able to make a ton of gifs and be chronically online for a short while LMAO.

It's been so fun! But it's time to go back to reality lmao. I closed reqs for a bit because I was just so swamped with them the last few days, and I wanted to gif scenes that I like this time. I've done like 2 weeks worth of gifs. And you will see Vi a lot bc she's on my mind a lot heehee 🥰what can I say, she's such a babe <3

Here's a lil sneak peek, just look at herrrrrrr 🥰🥰🥰 and yeah, 4k upscaled resolution really helps making these tight crops, it's why i never went back to 1080p lol. It's how I’m able to make zoomed in gifs look decent (like the kirammountains gifset lol)

Thank you so much for all the support, likes, reblogs, and the nice tags you guys give. Yes, I can see and read all of them (both the nice and nasty ones lmao). If you have nothing good to say about the characters or my editing style, or anything related to the edit, please I beg you, just write a separate text post about it <3 If you have nothing nice to say, don't say it in my edits.

Lastly, thank you to the people who share my stuff outside the site and credit the blog and link them back here. I see you and appreciate you <3 You guys don't know how much I appreciate shoutouts and link backs, because people stealing my gifs is something that I've dealt with after making them for like a decade.

Tumblr is sadly not what it used to be in the 2013-2015 era. There’s definitely less activity as time goes by, so I appreciate all the people who credit and link back to this sideblog. Unfortunately, there’s more people who just repost them and it gets wayyy much more traction in other soc med sites. Yeah, ofc I get a lil jealous, but eh what can you do 😞 can’t really stop em.

I also don’t like putting watermarks because it personally looks tacky to me, but I understand why other people do it.

Anyways, if you reached at the end of this lil rambling of mine, thank you! I sadly might be busy during November because that's usually busy season, but I'll try to make time for making gifs of Season 2! Thank you and enjoy your stay on this lil sideblog :)

#personal tag #arcane #long post #nothing i just have free time rn and i wanna spend time on it rambling and yes im tagging the public tag lol #goodbye leave hello real life again

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spidermans-l-o-v-e-r · 7 months ago

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Strawberries and Cream presents: ✨A Day with Buck✨

Pairing: Buck x reader

Word count: 3.7

Masterlist

Notes: This is literally born from the fact that I think chapter 3 was going to be close to over 9k if I didn’t do some serious editing. I literally took the end of chapter 3 and made it the beginning of chapter 4 🤣🤣 p.s it’s me again this was all in vain it’s still that long

Buck is a cuddle monster.

He clings to you as you lay in bed, your arms crossed over your chest. He’d made you get in bed with him, said you guys used to share as kids anyway and that he’d stay to his own side.

Literally 10 minutes later he was curled into your back, and five minutes after that he had his arms wrapped tightly around you. This was so him, even as a child when you’d share a bed with him and Maddie you’d wake up to his legs over you and his head on Maddie’s stomach.

“Buck?” You poke at his arm, It’s around noon now. Eddie had dropped you off that morning with a kiss to your forehead and a promise that he’d text you when he woke up.

“Hm?” He groans softly, opening one eye. He looks up at you, giving you a sleepy grin “What’s up kiddo”

You roll your eyes at him, turning in his arms to shove him away

“Get your fat paws off of me, I have to pee” You whine, clawing your way out of his arms. He rolls over, letting you go and grabs his phone. You come back a few minutes later and he doesn’t look up

“Did you spray before you left?”

“I literally just peed!!”

“Pfft yeah okay sure. Miss Stinkypants”

When you were a child you’d accidentally soiled your literal diaper while you were in your car seat on a road trip and Buck never let you live it down. After 20 something years he still called you Miss Stinkypants even Maddie had done it a few times and both of them died laughing every time. Who needed siblings when you had these two

1:25 pm

Buck is sitting on the couch when you come back down from the bedroom, he’s playing animal crossing and cleaning up his island

“Charge your switch we can play together” He nods over to the charger in the wall and you grab yours from the coffee table, plugging it in. He proudly shows you around “BuckTopia” and all of his favorite villagers. Though he’s waiting to get rid of Hippeux, he hates him. He loves Bea and Fauna and he’s got a love hate relationship with Canberra. Eventually you show off your island, “Faeton” and he’s incredibly impressed.

“God it must have taken years to lay all of those paths” he gasps, staring at your pink walkways

“The initial lay down? God yes. But you know after that I just find 12 piece paths and overwrite the original 12 and it lays itself!”

You two spend the next 45 minutes running all over each other’s islands, beating each other with nets, and trying to hit the button at the same time so your little characters are dancing together.

“You know I’m glad they added this” Buck stretches his arms in the air, following along with the group stretching session

“It’s ridiculously cute” You agree, as you both bend forward and then push your chest out

2:10 pm

“I don’t think you’re ready for this. You’re so not ready for this” Buck bounces on the balls of his feet, and shakes out his arms.

You turn and kick his butt “I don’t think you’re ready for this!” You taunt him and he swings at you playfully, trying to smack you.

The game counts down and you and Buck start dancing in sync. You hadn’t played Just Dance in forever and apparently someone did like his life depended on it.

“I’m gonna kick your ass” He says in a singsong voice, Toxic by Britney Spears plays on the screen as the two of you dance along. He’s not even breaking a sweat

“You play this one a lot don’t you?” You ask him, panting a bit. He flashes you a shit eating grin and shakes his butt

“Oh I’m sorry, I have no idea what you mean” His voice is sweet and angelic as he’s hitting perfect nearly every time.

“With a taste of your lips, I'm on a ride

You're toxic, I'm slippin' under

With a taste of a poison paradise”

He turns to you with a whip of his head and you burst out laughing, singing with him.

“I'm addicted to you

Don't you know that you're toxic?”

2:45 pm

“So like… what is going on with you and Eddie?”

Buck holds his hand still for you as you paint his nails, his eyes covered with slices of cucumber complete with a hydrating face mask.

“I don’t know, if I’m being honest” You sigh and blow on his nails softly. Your hello kitty headband keeping the hair from your strawberry face mask

“I do really like him” you blush “But I’m not sure if I’m ready to take that step you know? Like what if he thinks I’m messy? I think? He likes me? But he doesn’t know about my past relationships and like what if that’s too much baggage?”

Buck rolls his eyes carefully under the cucumbers, dear god you two.

“Eddie has relationship baggage too Y/N. And you don’t like him any less do you? Even if you don’t know his?”

“I guess you’re right…” You say shyly, taking his other hand. “Same pattern or opposite”

“Opposite. And actually there’s something else we need to address”

“And that is? Sassy pants” you pull his hand closer and start painting

“You slept over and I haven’t heard any of those details yet”

“Okay promise you won’t tell him I told you?” He can practically feel your excitement, he takes one of his cucumbers off and bites into it

“Promise”

“He woke up hard” You blurt it out, dropping his hand.

Buck lurches forward, the other cucumber flying off his face “He what?!”

You squeal and nod your head fast “I- I was awake a bit sooner than I let him know and oh my god Buck. Oh. My. God. He’s-“ you look around like for some reason he’s gonna hear it “he’s huge” you whisper

Buck snickers, blowing on the nails on his other hand “Yeah I know we had a whole drunken measuring contest it was the funniest thing in the entire world. Are you telling me you felt it?”

Your cheeks flush even more and you nod your head slowly “Yeah…but that’s not even the whole of it because we started having a pillow fight and-“ you stop for a second, and Buck gestures wildly

“And?!?!”

“Okay but this part is embarrassing to tell you!”

“You once had to hold my hand while I got an anal exam because I was pushing too hard when we were younger. I don’t think anything is as embarrassing as that.”

You laugh hard, your body shaking as you wheeze and fall into the couch, remembering when you were teenagers. He was mortified the entire time because the nurse was cute as hell. Of course they had to be cute.

“Okay!” You wipe your eyes carefully and giggle a bit before taking a deep breath “Okay. Okay. We had a pillow fight and I ended up on top of him and I kind of just… did something? Like it was just supposed to be a joke I swear!!”

“What did you do!”

“I kind of sorta ended up grinding on him”

Buck’s mouth drops wide open and he just stares at you. You groan loudly in embarrassment and fall back on the couch

“What did he do”

You cover your face with your hands and Buck starts beating on your leg

“What did he do?!?!” He yells and you kick at him, fighting back

“He moaned! Okay god he moaned!”

Buck squeals, which is impressive to say the least and you roll off the couch in embarrassment

3:45 pm

“He moaned, can you believe that?!”

You, Buck and Maddie are on the couch eating lunch. She came over to drop off some stuff for him and brought lunch for the three of you. Buck spent the last 20 minutes retelling all the details you’d told him, and Maddie is listening with wide eyes.

“And you two didn’t do anything else?” She asks, stabbing at her chicken

“How many times do I have to tell you guys! No! We ate breakfast and that was it!” You stab at your own, glaring at the two of them and they’re both giggling at you

“You guys are literally so cute I could die” Buck sighs “I can’t wait to be related to Eddie it’s gonna be so fun”

Maddie laughs at him “Oh my god, you’re gonna scare her!”

“Related?! That’s not too fast?! I don’t even know his middle name!”

“He doesn’t have one. I’m thinking maybe a spring wedding? Or fall. You hate the heat which is hilarious considering he’s a Texas boy”

“Imagine Eddie with a cowboy hat” Maddie says

Buck perks up in his seat “With his shirt off? I’ve got a picture of that actually”

You all crowd around his phone as he goes through his “Eddie” folder. He’s got a lot of pictures of him. “Have you ever seen him shirtless? You need to see him shirtless”

“I literally slept with him shirtless” you mumble and Buck’s hand freezes. You slap your hand over your mouth and he and Maddie immediately pounce, screaming

“You! Left! That! Shit! Out!” Buck yells at you and Maddie points an accusatory finger

“What were you wearing?!!”

4:45 pm

Buck drags you to Target. Okay so it’s not really dragging when Target is literally the best place on earth and you’re eager to go with, he had to pick up some stuff for dinner. After dramatically singing all the way there you stop at the Starbucks first. You’re looking up at the menu from afar when someone covers your eyes

“Guess who”

He says in a weird high pitched voice

“My 7th grade math teacher?” You giggle and Buck snorts

“Wasn’t he a dude?”

“That’s a horrible guess, why would you guess that” Eddie snickers as he pulls you into his chest and hugs you. Your cheeks flush and Buck watches the two of you, all giddy and trying to hide it

“Can you quick stalking us” Buck pulls him away from you and you turn around, looking up at him. He looks relaxed in a white tank top with a flannel on and jeans. God it’s a good look on him too, those quarter length sleeves are to die for.

“We literally have each other on life 360? It’s impossible not to stalk you. Not that I actually was. Just needed a few things”

“Do you have Y/N?”

Buck takes Eddie’s phone from his back pocket

“No? Are you- you’re gonna- yeah okay sure”

Eddie rolls his eyes as Buck turns his back to them to add you

“Anyway… how are you? Having a nice day?” His hands rest on your shoulders before pulling you into his chest again for a hug

“Miss you, pretty girl” he says quietly, running a hand over your back.

Your cheeks flush as you bury your head in his chest “Miss you too…and yeah we’re having fun! Just like old times” you smile up at him, your chin on his chest.

He strokes your hair, just…looking at you. It makes you nervous inside, a good kind of nervous.

“You know what you want? I’ll get it for you”

“Oh no- no that’s okay” You say quickly “I got it”

“Actually I’ve got it” Buck hands Eddie back his phone and pulls you into his arms protectively

“No Eddie’s allowed, we talked about this” He scolds him and Eddie rolls his eyes, putting his hands up

“I know, I know I’ll back off. I’ll see you later cutie… and Y/N” He makes a little face at Buck, and you snort before waving at him

“See you later”

“See you later” Buck mocks you in a high pitched voice as you order your drinks. You punch him in the side and he laughs, dragging you over to go wait at the end

“So what are we having tonight?” You ask as you awkwardly and a bit embarrassingly climb into the cart. Buck holds it down for you as you get comfy

“Just spaghetti and meatballs, I know you miss my recipe”

You sigh dreamily when he hands you your drink and pushes the cart “Oh god you’re right”

“Exactly”

He walks around the store, pushing you along and throwing ingredients at you instead of into the cart and snickering as he does it.

“Would you stop that!” You yell as you catch the Parmesan before it smacks you in the face

“Do you know how long it’s been since I was able to torture you? Honey I have years to catch up on!”

“Okay well you know what, don't go crying to Maddie like you always did when I get you back. And I will get you back Evan”

“I’d like to see you try”

Payback comes in the form of giving Buck a wedgie in the parking lot.

Maddie calls you 15 minutes later.

5:25 pm

“You think Eddie will like his tamagotchi?”

You’re sitting in the front seat of Buck’s jeep as he drives over to Eddie’s house. You’d found the cute little toys and bought the newest ones. Yes they cost a pretty penny but Buck chipped in and you guys bought three. One for each of you

“I think he’ll like it because it’s from us” He chuckles, pulling into Eddie’s driveway. He stops the car, leaving it running.

“Remember, in and out. We still have to make dinner”

“Aye aye Captain” you salute him as you jump out. Before you even raise your hand to knock, the front door is opened. Eddie leans against the frame, crossing his ankles.

“I didn’t… even-“ it’s embarrassing the way you gape at his chest. He’s shirtless now, sweatpants hanging low on his hips.

He holds his phone up, shaking it “Buck texted. Whatcha doin here sugar cube? Miss me that much?” He slips his phone back in his pocket, crossing his arms over his broad chest and you know you’re drooling and you also know, in your heart Buck absolutely set this up.

“I uh…I-“

Eddie snickers and steps away for a second, coming back with a hoodie on.

“Use your words, Princess. Focus now”

Oh god he’s such a little shit

“Oh neither of you deserve shit!” You say, shoving the gift bag in his hands and practically running back to the jeep. Buck is laughing his ass off as he drives away with you punching him in the side

5:55 pm

Triple C: Sent 1 Attachment

I've named it Apollo

6:03 pm

You giggle as you stare at the picture on your phone, you never actually expected him to play with it, which is stupid considering you bought it for him. Buck is making you babysit his while he makes dinner. You’re both tempted to buy one for Chim.

6:45 pm

“Have you considered moving in with me?” Buck asks as he serves you both a plate of spaghetti you frown a little and set the tamagotchi down on the table

“Yes. If I’m being honest. It seems… a bit more ideal than sharing a house with a married couple and a baby… but you don’t really have the space for me here and before you say it- there’s no way in hell I’m making you sleep on the couch! This is your house Buck”

“First of all,” he puts Parmesan on your spaghetti and pushes the plate towards you “I honestly wouldn’t mind the couch if it meant you staying here. Please Y/N that is an option and I’m willing to make that sacrifice for you… maybe we can share the bed! We’ve had to before, we know we can. Second of all, please don’t shut me down right away. But have you given any thought as to staying with Eddie? Like have you actually? Because that’s a really good option. What if you went between our places? You know… part time there, part time here. You’re not a burden Y/N. Not in any way, shape or form.”

“I feel like one, sometimes I feel like I shouldn’t have come here” You tell him, playing with your spaghetti, twirling it on your fork. “In all honesty Evan?… I want to move in with Eddie. He’s the best option, I know that. But it seems so serious making that move and I’m very nervous about what it could do to whatever the hell our friendship is. I don’t… have many friends Buck, you know that... I never have. I don’t want to lose him because we can’t stand living together”

“I really don’t think that’s going to happen. He’s really serious about you taking his spare room Y/N. It’s just collecting dust at this point. Hell, what if I moved in with him instead! And you took this place? I sleep on his couch more often than I do here” he says, chuckling a little as he digs in to his spaghetti

You’re a bit stunned to say the least. You love the studio. But kicking Buck from his own place is too much, and you know your cousin would do it for you in a heartbeat. It’s been a long time since anyone has done anything for you out of love.

“You know I love you and Maddie right?” You say a little teary eyed and he coos softly at you, coming around the table and hugging you

“Oh come onnn…don’t cry” He says softly, smiling “You’re gonna make me cry! Just think over your options and let us know what you decide okay?”

8:19 pm

You’re sat on the couch, your legs in Buck’s lap. He’s carefully painting your toenails to match your fingernails.

“Okay explain to me again why Simon is pretending like he can’t get Daphne pregnant?”

He asks as he blows softly. You tilt your head to him carefully, trying not to muss up the pink clay mud mask you’ve got on.

“Because he doesn’t want kids cause of his shitty dad and since Daphne hasn’t had sex or even been taught about it she doesn’t realize homie is just pulling out”

Buck nods slowly, turning back to the screen. Your phone rings and you grab it awkwardly, putting it on speaker

“Hi Eddie, you’re on speaker” you say, your words a little garbled with the inability to move your face as much

“Hey Sugar cube, hey Buck”

“Eddie this better be good I swear to god” Buck threatens him as he pauses the show. You giggle a little and you can hear Eddie scoff.

“I was actually calling for you, asshole. You didn’t answer your phone”

“I’m busy”

“Doing what?”

“Painting Y/Ns nails. This requires precision, asshole. What did you want?”

You giggle at them as you hold your phone out for Buck and he makes a little face at you

“You’ve never painted my nails” He says, sounding hurt

“You’ve never asked” Buck sasses him back

“Fine Buck, will you paint my nails”

“If you come here literally right now? Yes.”

“Bro, bet”

“Wait I’m not-“ before you can say anything Eddie hangs up. You sigh and set your phone down, crossing your arms over your chest

“I thought you wanted today to be just us” you say, your eyes narrowed. “And i'm not dressed! I don’t even have a bra on!”

“Okay, first of all, it’s my house, my rules, you wear whatever you want. Second of all…Does it bother you? Cause we can call him back. I just…. He’s my best friend and I miss him”

You lay back on the couch, laughing “Can’t go one day without your bestie huh?”

“They call us Buddie for a reason”

You decide to put one on just in case

8:54 pm

Eddie doesn’t just come over, he brings snacks. He opens the door, letting himself in, because of course he has a key

“Honey I’m home”

He shucks off his shoes and tosses his coat down. He sets the bags on the coffee table and starts taking things out, chips and pretzels, some candy and a couple different ice creams he puts in the freezer.

You move your legs from Bucks lap and Eddie sits in the middle of you two

“Bestie” He nods at Buck

“Sugar cube” he winks at you

Buck holds up four different face masks and he picks the refreshing pomegranate mask and you put a matching headband in his hair. Buck paints the mask on and the three of you curl up on the couch together, he wiggles his fingers at Buck who smirks and takes his hand, starting on his cuticles

“You wanna pick the color?” He asks, leaning his head on your shoulder. You smile at him when he hands you the box of nail polish and you start to rummage through it. You grab two colors, one that matches Buck and one that matches yours and hand them to Buck

10:32 pm

Eddie holds both you and Buck as you cry into his chest over Anthony’s dad. He tears up a little too

11:42 pm

“Why can’t I just be the judge?” You groan softly as Buck puts the joycon around your wrist

“Because we dance together as a family”

Both boys school you in just dance and they laugh about it and make fun of you when you throw popcorn at them.

Watching Eddie dance to “Treasure” by Bruno Mars is fun and it’s even better when he sings it to you. You’re halfway convinced Buck is picking all the dances he’s good at just to impress you because he doesn’t miss a beat

12:27 am

Buck goes to the bathroom, and you dance to “Havana” with Eddie, he doesn’t have to stare into your eyes the way he does, but he couldn’t look away even if he wanted to.

Buck watches quietly, leaning against the wall. The song ends and Eddie pulls you up his body, still staring into your eyes, his hands holding your waist firmly. Your heart is beating out of your chest and not just from the dance

“Man, I told you learning this dance was gonna come in handy one day!” Buck fist pumps the air and you groan loudly, crashing against Eddie’s chest

1:30 am

Buck clings to you and you cling to Eddie as the three of you pass out in Bucks bed

Thank you random person in the photo 🤣🤣

#Rhys writes #words by rhys #evan buckley imagine #evan buckley #buck x reader #evan buckley x reader #eddie diaz #eddie diaz x reader #911 x reader #9 1 1 #911 show #911 fox #911 abc #9 1 1 fanfiction #9 1 1 buddie #911 fandom #911 fanfic

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