#and its interview experience if nothing else

[dandoris]

had a phone interview last week that i thought went ok. but she emailed me back setting up an in-person interview with more people on friday and now im so nervous lmao

[suntails]

job market misery

[florida3exclamationpoints]

[lewyn-martell]

.

[jammatown919]

Black Sheep

Zoey and Rumi shield Mira from uncomfortable questions during an interview.

It was rare for Mira to regret a song. She loved making music. She loved planning out the moves that would make the lyrics hit that much harder or emphasize just the right elements. She loved working with her girls, mixing their talents to create the best art they possibly could. 

But by God, she would regret Black Sheep until the day she died. 

Not making it. Working with Zoey to write the lyrics had been therapeutic in its own way, and sitting in the recording booth with Rumi to get the vocals down had made for a genuinely fun afternoon. But had she known the stir it would cause among the fans, she never would've allowed it to be released. 

Already, it lacked the fanfare of most of Huntr/x's discography. It had never been promoted or performed live. It didn't have an official music video. Mira had made it for herself, held onto it for nearly a year, then agreed for it to be quietly released as a bonus track in an album that frankly had no business holding the outlet for all of Mira's mixed-up emotions about her home life. 

The fans had gone wild for it in all the wrong ways. In-depth lyrical analyses prodded at Mira's pain, trying to unravel metaphors that didn't exist to be understood. Online theorists assigned meaning that didn't match reality, deciding on their own who certain lines were directed toward and why. Overnight, Mira had a new identity. The black sheep of her family. The problem child who had run away to become an idol. The dramatic story everyone felt entitled to. 

The kicker was that the song didn't even tell much on its own. While the lyrics alluded to a repressive childhood, failing to meet and eventually breaking free of expectations, they said nothing of the emotional abuse. The silence. The isolation. The threats and ultimatums. Her name scrubbed the family tree the moment she left their house and their lives. 

It was an incomplete puzzle. A story told through heavy metaphor that relied on prior context. The picture would not accurately form for anyone but her just off the lyrics alone. It hadn't been written to be digestible for anyone else. 

But everyone wanted the breakdown. The fans. The press. Everyone. The only thing stopping them from prying her personal life and past wide open was the fact that she'd changed her last name at 18, a solid two years before the formation of Huntr/x, and never told anyone. Her current name drew a blank for anyone scouring the internet for information. No one knew to look for the original, and her blood relations certainly weren't keen on making themselves known. 

The only way to get the full story was from Mira herself, and some were relentless. 

There had been a set of obligatory interviews and television appearances to promote the album as a whole, and at every single one of them, no one could just accept that the song was a personal endeavor not meant to be explained. So, when questioned about Black Sheep, Mira smiled and lied through her teeth. The song was about her experiences as a wild, untamable child. It was a celebration of the coarse attitude that had endeared her to fans. It was about the way she acted, and not the way she'd been treated.

Huntr/x refused appearances for months after the fact, until they had something new to take the attention elsewhere. When they returned, it was with a strict new rule that Bobby enforced like lives depended on it. 

Do NOT ask about Black Sheep. 

But the damage was done. They couldn't very well retract the song; not when it would always be reuploaded somewhere and suddenly deleting all official avenues for listening would only fan the flames. Mira just had to steer clear of certain corners of the internet that would never stop theorizing and accept that the "black sheep" narrative had become a part of her persona. 

That was what she got for trying to be vulnerable in her art. For expecting anyone to not try to take more than she gave them. 

Honestly, she didn't blame people for wondering. She'd invited that by letting the song go public. But she wished they would just leave her alone. 

And they did, eventually. For the most part. 

Years passed. Huntr/x released new, better songs. Two albums, four singles. How It's Done became their best crowd-pleaser. They had an insanely successful world tour. Then Golden, Takedown, and What It Sounds Like dropped in quick succession and suddenly all anyone cared about was Huntr/x's brilliant shared narrative with the Saja Boys, Rumi's "rare skin condition", and whether the latter two songs would officially release with Golden as an EP. 

Black Sheep gradually drifted behind her, even though it had affected the way she presented herself to the world. Even though she still sometimes came across outlandish theories that claimed she'd actually killed her family, or they were all criminals that she'd disowned. Even though sometimes people got it right and guessed that her parents just didn't like her, weren't shy about it, and were probably homophobic too, if the theories about her queerness were to be believed. 

Whenever it upset her, Rumi and Zoey were right there. They were the only ones who knew the whole of it, because they were the only ones who had never pushed for it. Even when helping her to make Black Sheep, they never took more than she gave them, and eventually she'd felt safe enough to let them in. They were the only ones who deserved to know. The only ones who wanted her to talk for her and not for them. 

It was all she'd really wanted out of Black Sheep. For someone to know she was in pain, see her, and listen. Mira wished she'd just kept it within the group. 

But she hadn't, and she was still reaping the consequences over three years later. 

The interview was supposed to be for Huntr/x's latest comeback. Under those hot stage lights, on camera, sandwiched between Rumi and the arm of a stiff couch, Mira was supposed to be safe. This interviewer who blended in with the dozens of others she'd spoken with over the years could only stray so far from the topic at hand. And yet...

"So, Mira." He leaned forward, flashing her a bright smile. "I'd love to talk about the Golden music video. I found your section very interesting. How do your parents feel about your portrayal of them?"

Mira's eye twitched. Beside her, Rumi seemed to sit up a little straighter. 

"Golden isn't really about anyone else in our lives," she replied smoothly. "It's about our experiences and how they made us feel. My part isn't about my parents. It's about not fitting in as a kid."

"That's right!" Zoey added, perhaps a bit too enthusiastically. "Mine is really similar. Growing up with two cultures and two homes and not really fitting into either of them."

"Yes. Golden is about finding our place in the world," Rumi finished with a perfect, polished smile. Mira shot them both a grateful look. 

Unfortunately, this guy either couldn't take a hint or simply didn't care to. 

"But this is the first time you've shown your family in any of your work." 

"Well, that wasn't actually my family. They were hired actors for the video." Mira did her best to keep her voice even. "My family are very private people."

"And they're still alright with being the subjects of your music?" the interviewer pressed on. "If I recall correctly, this isn't the first time you've sung about them. A few years ago, you released a song called Black Sheep."

Oh, Bobby was going to kill someone for that, provided Mira didn't beat him to it. But she couldn't call out this violation of terms on camera. She could only deflect to the best of her ability. 

"Black Sheep is a deeply personal song," she said, her fists clenching in her lap. "A lot of people make assumptions about what it means."

Whatever the interviewer meant to say next never made it out of his mouth. Mira didn't know whether it was the motion or Rumi's sharp gasp that caught her attention. All she knew was that one second, she was answering a series of uncomfortable questions, and the next Zoey was pitching forward off the couch like a ragdoll.

She hit the floor with an echoing thud. For a moment, everybody was frozen. Waiting to see if she'd get up and laugh it off. Poke fun at her own clumsiness. Lament the meme that her tumble was bound to become. She didn't move. 

"Zoey!" Rumi slid off the couch beside her, and the entire room erupted into chaos. 

Someone screamed at someone else to cut the camera. Crew began scrambling; some to attend to Zoey and some to handle the footage. Bobby came sprinting out from somewhere backstage. The interviewer stared, dumbfounded. 

"Holy shit." Mira didn't even remember getting up. She simply appeared at Zoey's side, heart beating fast, grabbing for her shoulder. "Zo? Zo?!"

Rumi waved off people attempting to crowd them, allowing only Bobby and some random guy with a bottle of water to get close. By the time anybody had their wits about them to consider calling an ambulance, Zoey was beginning to move again. Her eyes flicked around, taking in the pandemonium. 

"Hey, Zoey," Rumi said gently. "You're okay, sweetie. We've got you. The cameras are off."

Zoey immediately began trying to sit up, but Mira wouldn't let her. She guided the smaller girl back down, offering her lap as a pillow. 

"Don't get up," she murmured, a wave of relief sweeping over her. 

"I'm alright," Zoey insisted, admittedly sounding pretty steady for someone who had just been dead weight on the floor. 

"You just fainted." Mira whispered to her. "Take a minute, okay?"

Bobby took the water bottle, cracked it open, and knelt down to offer it to Zoey. "You might have gotten a little dehydrated. Were you feeling sick? Dizzy?"

"I guess." Zoey took a few slow sips of water as Mira guided the bottle to her mouth. When she was done, she glanced at the crowd of onlookers and said, "can we go back to the green room?"

Mira glanced at Rumi, unsure. Rumi gave her a quick nod, and the two of them took Zoey by the arms to help her to her feet. No one stopped them as they made their way offstage, Bobby trailing a few steps behind. 

When she noticed him, Rumi called over her shoulder, "we've got her. Can you handle things out here?"

He gave her a dutiful nod and turned back around to face the chaos they'd left behind. 

Both Rumi and Mira kept an arm around Zoey the whole way, trying to take as much of her weight as possible, but she didn't seem to need it. She carried herself perfectly fine all the way to the green room, then flopped down on a plush sofa in much the same manner as she always did. 

"How are you feeling now?" Mira asked, taking a seat beside her. 

"Oh, I'm fine," Zoey replied cheerfully. "I was pretending."

"What?!" Mira stared at her, bewildered and a little upset. "Why?! You scared the shit out of us!" 

Zoey gave her an awkward grin, her expression sheepish but not exactly sorry. Rumi answered for her. 

"It was to get you out of answering that question," she said. "Neither of us wanted to let that guy keep grilling you."

"Did you know she was faking?" Mira demanded. 

"I suspected," Rumi replied. "She gave me this look right before she fell."

Mira let out a long, slow sigh. If she really thought about, she supposed this was the best-case scenario. At least her girlfriend hadn't actually passed out mid-interview, and she supposed the gesture in itself was kind of sweet. Still...

"You faked a medical emergency to get me out of answering an uncomfortable question?"

Zoey nodded slowly. "I just thought it might take the attention off you and they would forget about it. They shouldn't have asked about Black Sheep at all, but we couldn't say anything, so-"

"Honey, I love you for that," Mira said, placing a hand on her shoulder, "but please never scare me like that again. I thought something was really happening to you."

"I'm sorry..." Zoey hit her with those big, adorable, apologetic eyes, and Mira couldn't help but kiss her forehead in return. 

"It's okay," she murmured. "Thank you for trying to help, but you guys don't need to do stuff like that. I can handle myself. It's my fault anyway for releasing that song. I basically invited people to ask."

"You never wanted to release it," Rumi chimed in quietly. "Celine and I convinced you. It was supposed to be yours."

"Babe-"

The door suddenly opened behind them, and a meek-looking woman from the crew poked her head in. 

"Is everything alright?" she asked. "Everyone is very concerned."

"We're fine," Mira replied as she stood. "Zoey was just dehydrated and overheated from the stage lights. You might want to talk to someone about not having them so close."

"O-of course," the woman stammered. "But, if you're all okay, we were wondering if we could finish up the interview? Or at least get that last question answered."

Mira's jaw tightened. Concerned. What a joke. For their show, maybe. Not for the performer that, as far as everyone else knew, had just blacked out and cracked her head on the stage. 

"You can't be serious," Rumi said lowly, a vaguely familiar glint in her eye. A look she typically reserved for threats and not crew members that had probably drawn the short straw to be the one to come in here and make this request. 

"It would only take a few minutes," the woman insisted. "She won't have to answer any more questions. We just want to get Mira's response for-"

"No one is answering anything else," Rumi declared as she strode forward. "Questions about Black Sheep are off-limits, and if you seriously expect us to put Zoey back on that stage right now, you're dreaming."

The woman shrank back under Rumi's scathing gaze, and Mira almost felt a little bad for her. Or, would have, had she not kept going. 

"It's just... the network, and-"

"The network doesn't come before my girls," Rumi growled. 

Literally. Teeth bared and everything. Her fangs hadn't popped out yet, but Mira could tell they were close. 

"Babe..." Mira warned, because they absolutely did not need the PR disaster of Rumi going feral on a random member of a tv crew behind the scenes. 

Rumi, though she didn't seem particularly happy about it, took a deep, steadying breath as she prepared to level with the woman. 

"Look," she said, "I know you're just doing your job, but please tell your higher-ups that we are not going back out there. One of my girls is sick, and the other was getting questioned on a topic I'm sure our manager communicated was not to be brought up. This interview is over, and at this rate, I don't think there's going to be another one."

"I-"

"We would appreciate some privacy now." Rumi's cold, flat tone finally seemed to seal the matter. The woman nodded, looking more than a little unsettled, and fled the room. 

"That was kind of hot," Zoey said as soon as the door closed. 

"Extremely hot," Mira agreed. "But seriously, you guys don't have to do all this to protect me."

"Of course we do." Rumi seemed offended at the very suggestion of the contrary. Mira let out a small sigh. 

"It's not your fault I released the song," she insisted. "You don't have to make it up to me or protect me from the consequences. You don't owe me anything, okay? You don't need to make a scene or risk your reputation for me."

"It's not about owing things or whose fault it was," Rumi said sternly. 

More gently, Zoey added, "we just want you to feel safe out there. You shouldn't have to go through that."

"It's what we do." Rumi stepped closer and gently cupped Mira's face with one hand. "We protect you because you're ours. We love you."

At that, something within Mira began to slowly crack open. When Zoey stood up and wrapped them both up in her arms, the dam broke, and she suddenly burst into tears. Not because she wasn't used to them holding her or telling her that they loved her, but because they were claiming her. Calling her theirs. 

She knew she was, and had for a long time, but for it to be said so plainly and matter-of-factly did something for that little girl in Mira's heart that would have done anything for someone not to be ashamed to say she was theirs. To come to her with it and not make her beg for scraps of affection. To say it even when she pushed back and argued. Even when meaning it meant doing something stupid mid-interview or chasing film crew out of the room. 

"Mira?" Rumi asked, searching her face. 

"Thank you," Mira whimpered. 

"Aww, Mira..." Zoey sounded close to tears herself. She nuzzled into Mira's shoulder, her grip tightening. 

"How about we get out of here?" Rumi began gingerly wiping Mira's tears away. "I'm pretty sure Zoey's stunt just got us the rest of the day off. We could grab something to eat on the way home and have some couch time."

"And maybe go to that boba place you like," Zoey offered. 

Mira wasn't often on the receiving end of the poor baby, don't cry, let's get you some of your favorite thing routine. In fact, she was usually the one setting up turtle videos when Zoey cried or coaxing Rumi out of her room when she was having a bad day. As a rule, she hated crying in front of people. But with these two, it wasn't so bad. 

"Okay." Mira sniffed, took a breath, and blinked a few times. "Okay, that sounds good. But seriously, no more faking medical emergencies."

"Fine," Zoey said, "but can Rumi still growl at people?"

Rumi gave her best charming smile, and Mira scoffed and rolled her eyes. 

"If you want to be known among film crews for growling at people off camera, be my guest," she decided. 

"Good," Rumi replied, satisfied. "Now let's go find some dinner. Your pick."

Grinning, Zoey began to pull them both in the direction of the door. Mira followed readily, chuckling at her excited little bounces. It didn't matter that they were technically ditching the day's schedule, or that the network was probably going to have a meltdown, or that this was almost definitely not going to be the last time someone pried into Mira's past for publicity. 

She didn't care. Right now, with Zoey leading her by one hand and Rumi holding the other, she was right where she belonged. 

------

Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed, please consider reblogging or buying the writer a coffee!

[randomfandomworks]

Huntrix (Separately) x Famous!Reader

Synopsis: Headcanons involving the Huntrix girls falling for you and what kind of fame you possess

A/N: I had a lot of fun writing this! I’m still working on general dating Headcanons for these three but I might end up doing more with this concept because I really ended up enjoying it.

Rumi with another Idol

★ You and Rumi had met on several instances though most were because of award shows

★ Often times you and Huntrix would perform at the same venues it was only reasonable that after some time you’d get to know one another

★ You became friends quickly, bonding over shared experiences and tribulations

★ At some point you become a feature on one of Huntrix’s new songs

★ A collaboration that the fans end up absolutely loving which only leads to more moments together

★ Joining them at interviews and shows as the song runs its course of popularity

★ You and Rumi naturally became closer over time, meeting up for things unrelated to your careers until eventually you both started to fall for each other

★ For a while you both tiptoed around the feelings

★ You knew how your fans were, how they’d react knowing two of the most popular idols were together

★ But one night you corner Rumi after one of her shows and everything comes crumbling down

★ After that you start dating in secret

★ It becomes a careful song and dance; avoiding topics that may lead to exposure of your relationships but still risking it to see one another perform

★ You help one another when it comes to singing, finding the right transitions for sets, making sure the notes get hit right and the lyrics are clear

★ And after you’re done being idols for the day you relax into one another allowing it to become simply you and her, nothing more or less

★ Rumi only falls for you harder when she sees that side of you, the comfortable side you keep away from everyone else

★ After a while the fans get suspicious

★ Rumors and theories spread like wildfire over both of your fanbases

★ Catching onto the quick looks you give one another or how you’re always attending each other’s shows

★ You let them have their fun

★ Watching as people make countless posts about the evidence they can find and what they think is happening behind the scenes

★ And when it’s gone on long enough you make it official

★ Which causes social media to absolutely blow up with responses some saying they called it, others believing it to be a trick, a few completely against it

★ Yet neither of you cared

★ You didn’t need people online to tell you who to care about or date, you had one another and honestly the truth was better than any speculation online

Mira with a Model

★ Mira learns about you through Bobby, who’d been trying to find some bigger names to promote the new Huntrix merchandise

★ He reached out to your agency leading to a deal where you and some other top models would do a shoot for them if in turn they got to meet the members of Huntrix

★ And that was that

★ She’d spotted you as soon as they entered the venue

★ You carried yourself differently

★ Some of the models were nervous, others in over their head, or bored out of their minds

★ But not you

★ You had a smile on your face as a new intern directed you, showing you around and what you’d be modeling

★ You didn’t question the photographer even with the strangest of requests

★ And you helped Bobby when no one else listened

★ You were just, different

★ Even when meeting them you didn’t freak out

★ Didn’t scramble for an autograph or a photo

★ You waited patiently for your colleagues chaos to end

★ Introduced yourself with a smile and thanked them for the opportunity

★ That moment made a place in Mira’s mind, one she thought back to even weeks after the interaction

★ Up until she messages you herself, reaching out to just talk to you

★ And even online you were kind, patient, and polite

★ And Mira didn’t know what to do with the fact that she started falling for it, falling for you

★ She invited you to one of their shows, a backstage ticket, per Zoey and Rumi’s advice

★ She couldn’t help the warmth that overtook her when she saw you

★ You lit up when you came face to face

★ Smiling and congratulating her on a show well done

★ And something about it all changed for Mira; she asks you out soon afterwards wanting, needing, to see you again

★ It doesn’t take long before you start dating

★ No one knew besides a select few

★ Many suspected, especially after Mira made an appearance for your agency, but Mira had made a name of standing up for herself and not tolerating rumors so no one questioned it

★ And behind it all, back stage or behind the camera there was just you two

★ And that’s all you needed

Zoey with an Actor

★ You and Zoey knew of one another long before meeting

★ You were a star in one of her favorite K-dramas and you obviously loved Huntrix’s songs

★ The two of you finally get the chance to meet one another when the director of your show begs Huntrix to write a song for the upcoming season

★ They agree, mostly because Zoey would’ve probably lost it if they didn’t, and are invited to the premiere because of it

★ Your first interaction comes up because of a photo

★ Several reporters wanted a picture of you and your co-star with Huntrix

★ Which led to you all posing together and eventually talking after the press has had their fun

★ You and Zoey hit it off almost instantly, the two of you silently freaking out over meeting the other

★ You end up sitting together, talking after the screening and through most of the night, laughing together as though you hadn’t just met

★ And when your managers finally drag you away from one another you still keep in touch

★ Messaging online and meeting at more events over time

★ Neither of you is shocked when you start to fall for the other

★ The admiration existed long before you met

★ Though something more had found its way through

★ Maybe it was always responding to one another, no matter how late, or the smiles across the room at events

★ Whatever it was it wasn’t a surprise

★ The real shock came from the admission

★ Realizing you’d both been running circles around one another to not ruin anything when in truth it was exactly what you’d both been needing

★ It isn’t long afterwards that everyone knows

★ You never say anything but you openly post each other and willingly mention one another in interviews

★ Not to mention you frequenting all of Huntrix’s performances and her sudden guest appearances in your shows

★ Though whether or not the fans know has never concerned you

★ In fact most of your concerns recently are of Huntrix’s latest song releases and the date you’re planning with Zoey to go see your new movie

[purinfelix]

just for the weekend ᯓᡣ𐭩.ᐟ - franco colapinto

summary: your teammate has an absolutely ridiculous plan to bring your team back from the dead - but it might be just crazy enough to work w/c: 5.5k + some smau style tweets warnings: a little angst, some uncomfortable touching/kissing since it's fake dating (not too bad but better safe than sorry), some miscommunication - just two idiots in love i fear

a/n: WOW it's finally here, fake dating is literally a guilty pleasure trope for me so i hope yall enjoy this HAHA - also sorry to Williams fans bc there's a lot of slander in this but trust its all for the plot <333 (also holy shit this is the longest fic I've ever written WOW)

"You're actually insane."

"Oh c'mon, at least think about it for a minute, it's perfect!"

You fold your arms over your chest and try your best to look uninterested in whatever it is your teammate has to say. The two of you had been racing together for a little over half a year now, and you had witnessed him make (at least in your opinion) a grand fool of himself. Flirting with interviewers, winking at cameras, having absolutely no filter during press conferences - but this, this was by far the craziest thing you had heard come out of his mouth.

"A fake relationship?"

"Ah ah ah," he tuts, jutting a finger in your face, "a media relationship, one that will draw the attention away from how crap we're doing and onto the personalities of the team. Think about it, McLaren has whatever Oscar and Lando have got going on and Ferrari basically has two models for drivers. We need something to put us on the map, to make people care about us!"

You pause, and for a minute you seriously consider his outrageous proposition - he isn't completely wrong. For the two of you, making it into the points range was a rare occurrence, and even though the team always made sure to celebrate it like a podium there was something that stung about constantly being at the bottom.

"Do you realise how much trouble we could get into?"

"Ah," he sighs, and it's starting to annoy you how lightly he's talking about this, "ever the pragmatist."

"Well one of us has to be if the other's going to keep saying stupid shit," you huff before turning around and beelining out of his driver's room.

Seriously, a fake relationship? Had he lost his mind? Maybe if he focused more on his racing you wouldn't be constantly outperforming him.

"At least think about it, okay?" You hear him call out from behind you, and consider yourself lucky to be facing the other way so that he doesn't catch your obnoxious eye roll. Surely he had to be kidding because there was no way you were going to devote any amount of time to this ridiculous thought.

God fucking damnit.

It was frustratingly confusing, the kind of power Franco had. You had witnessed it first hand with how smoothly he spoke to anyone and managed to get his way almost instantly - but this was your first time experiencing it first-hand. It was another weekend, another country, another race, but the only thing you could think of was his stupid consideration - which, with each passing moment, seemed increasingly genius.

You had almost a year of experience with the team over your teammate, and with that, your fair share of embarrassment and disappointment. Sure, his idea was a little out there but you were close to being at your wits end and if nothing else, you hoped this would at least be a little fun. Plus you were pretty sure at this point if you didn't act on this thought soon, it would start interfering with your performance.

"Fine," you said a little breathlessly as you burst into his driver's room ahead of a race.

"Hey!" he exclaimed, looking at you with a shocked look, "whatever happened to knocking? I could've been naked in here!"

You roll your eyes before continuing, "You still up to the ..." You pause, thinking of how best to word it, "Fake relationship thing?"

His eyes light up immediately, "Ah, I knew you'd come around eventually."

Letting out a soft huff, just to let him know that you still aren't fully convinced this will work, you sit down on his couch. "I think we should lay down some ground rules first."

"Yes ma'am." He nods, straightening up and forcing a serious expression you can only assume is mocking yours.

"Firstly, no kissing."

"Understood."

"Actually no public affection at all, holding hands, hugging, nothing."

"Oh sure and how exactly are we going to convince people then?"

You pause, thinking for a little, "Okay maybe hand-holding and hugs are fine, but you better not push it - that goes for the pet names as well." He nods with a satisfied smile.

"And no one other than us two can know this is fake, alright? Otherwise, it'll spoil the plan."

"Trust me, I don't need anyone knowing I'm going along with something as ridiculous as this. It'll be our little secret."

"Our little secret," he repeats with a hum, a sly sort of smile spreading across his face as he gets up from his spot. "See you after the race, my love."

You sighed in exasperation, tossing your phone to the side of the couch in your driver's room where it fell with a light thud. You had about a thousand other things to be worrying about - your pretty disappointing result in qualifying for one - but for some reason, the main thing on your mind was your 'relationship' with Franco. Somehow, it had proved even more intense than you had expected, which planted a seed of worry in your mind as you realised how hard this was actually going to be to pull off. Since his not-so-subtle announcement to a hoard of hungry press members at last week's race, the media had managed up a flurry about the two of you.

There were supportive fans who liked you both enough not to see any problem with two teammates dating, as well as others who were more sceptical about how it might impact your performance. However, what really seemed to get to you were those who doubted you more than the relationship.

Your social media had been bombarded with comments and theories about the reason behind your relationship, doubting your place on the grid, and calling you names that - after shedding the status of 'first girl rookie', you thought you had left behind. Regardless, you feel a little stupid for being so unprepared for all this - not just the tweets but the harsh articles, the questions during press interviews and even shouting fans. Maybe if you had done a little more thinking about it first, you would've realised this was a stupid idea that should've been left at just that.

Throwing your head back you let out an exasperated sigh, trying to clear your head so that you could move on and focus on the race that was happening tomorrow. The last thing you wanted was for this plan to start impacting your driving. But Franco always seemed to have the worst timing - or best, depending on who you asked.

"Hello?" A couple quick knocks alert you of his presence before he cracks the door just wide enough to peek in. "There's my beautiful girlfriend." The way the pet names and affection seem to come to him so easily makes you simultaneously impressed and concerned, unsure of whether it's an indication of his great acting or flirting skills.

"What do you want?" You try to make it as obvious as you can that you're not in the mood, and he realises this right away.

"Oh, nothing, I just wanted to ask if you were free after this."

"You know I'm not really a huge fan of the big team dinners, especially not when we have a race tomorrow."

"Oh it's not like that, I was just going to go check out a restaurant near our hotel and wondered if you wanted to join me."

When you finally speak it's just above a whisper, "Is this a part of the fake dating thing?"

He laughs softly, his ability to find everything entertaining has always amazed you. "If you want to, it can be. If that gives you a reason to come hang out with me, though if you don't it's totally fine."

"No, I'll come, not like I've got anything better to do." You hate how every word you've said so far has sounded so pathetic.

"Great, I'll meet you by the paddock entry in ten?"

"See you then."

The street lights were dim, just bright enough to illuminate the street the two of you were walking down. The night was cool and still, and there were barely any people out other than you. You weren't sure why, but you had ended up telling Franco a lot more than you had expected. Maybe it was the extremely fancy restaurant you had initially gone to or the local one the two of you agreed to ditch it for instead, or maybe it was just the freeing feeling of being in another country.

The two of you had talked before, of course - as teammates it was difficult to avoid. But beyond the casual small talk, discussions about strategies or banter during challenges your relationship never extended beyond casual co-existence. It was one of the reasons you were glad your higher-ups had never tried to force the two of you into a professional friendship. There was something about Franco, his ability to strike up a conversation and maintain it even when the topic clearly strayed far beyond his interests, that made him so likeable, so easy to get along with. And the support he got from fans and the media reflected this well. You just never felt like there was any room for you in that equation.

But here, away from the cameras and shedding the roles of drivers, the two of you became normal people. You spoke, you laughed, you vented to him everything that worried you about your 'relationship' and he listened throughout all of it - all the while the two of you shared the biggest, best, pizza you had ever had.

"I have to say, I don't know if our engineers will appreciate the extra weight I've just put on," he jokes, breaking the comfortable silence that had been lingering around you two as you walked.

"Me neither, they might have to roll me into the car at this rate."

"You know, I think this is the first time the two of us have hung out, just us two."

You think for a little before answering, "You're right."

"Do you think there's a reason for that?"

"You mean besides us both being extremely busy people and already seeing each other pretty often? Not really, no."

"Good point, though with our little plan, we're definitely going to be seeing each other a lot more."

There's a beat of silence. "This is nice though, right?" He asks, and his voice is so tentative you almost find it endearing.

"It is nice, this was fun." You try not to think too much about the fact the two of you could be mistaken by any passer-by as a couple of lovebirds on a first date - or that fact that even to those who knew you, you were.

"I appreciate you telling me all that stuff, you know, about what people are saying about you."

"Oh, if anything I should be thanking you for listening to me vent about it."

"It is serious though, I'm so stupid for not even thinking about what you'd have to deal with."

"Well I don't think either of us gave it enough thought but," you pause and look up at him, "we're too far in to back out now."

He shoots you a comforting smile, one that shows how reassured he feels that you seem to finally be coming around to his idea. That is, at least, before his face morphs into one of discomfort.

"God, I'm so full."

"We're almost back at the hotel now, let's just sleep and then we can wake up early tomorrow morning to-"

"Wait, is that ice cream?" Franco interrupts you to point out a street vendor who's about to pack up for the night, and before you know it he's running up to the man eagerly. You can only follow suit with a sigh, knowing full well you wouldn't mind some dessert either.

"You two are lucky, you'll be my last customers for the night," the moustachioed owner of the cart says with a warm smile.

"Thanks," you reply kindly, before turning to Franco, "what flavour do you think you'll get."

"Hm, not sure, maybe chocolate?"

"Wow, boring."

He scoffs, "Oh yeah? And what exotic flavour are you going to get then?"

"Mint choc," you smile, but your face drops once you see your teammate's disgusted expression.

"You've got to be kidding me, that's like the worst choice."

You feign offence, "How dare you insult the best ice cream flavour of all time?"

"Ah, you two are quite the couple," the man laughs and you watch as Franco's eyes widen in embarrassment.

"Oh we're not-"

"Thank you," it's your turn to interrupt him, turning to the man with a smile. "One chocolate and one mint choc chip please."

You go to reach for your wallet to pay but you feel a hand on yours, stopping you.

"No, it's okay, I got this."

"Wh- Franco c'mon you know full well both of us could afford about a thousand of these ice cream cones don't be ridiculous."

"I know," he smiles and even though he's trying to be serious you know he's also trying not to laugh, "but I just figured you know, I'm the one who dragged you out here and like, got you into this whole fake dating mess."

You furrow your brows, a little confused at what exactly he's getting at.

"I guess I just want to say thank you, you know?"

"Alright, alright," you laugh softly, watching as he pays and takes both of the cones, handing you yours. Once you grab yours, you instinctively loop your arm around his, pulling him close and resting your head against his shoulder. The ice cream man laughs endearingly at the two of you.

"You're the best boyfriend ever!" you say in as high and cute a voice you can manage, cringing a little but determined to keep up the bit - you don't even bother to think about how fast you can feel Franco's heart race when you do.

Last night was really nice. You're sitting next to your race engineer, nodding along as she points to various multi-coloured dots and lines on the screen. You hear yourself agreeing with a couple quick "mhms", "of course" and "yep"s even though you can barely hear what she's saying. You're mere minutes away from getting in your car for a race, getting briefed on your strategy, and the only thing you can think of is the 'date' you had with Franco last night - if you can even call it that.

You had thought that getting everything off your chest, the hate comments, the doubt you had, would help you feel better and relieve any worries you had. And it did, at least until you got back to your hotel room alone and caught yourself smiling at the thought of seeing your teammate again the next day. How, even as you washed up and got ready for bed, you found yourself thinking - pizza, ice cream, walking at night together, isn't that something a real couple would do?

"Are you listening to me?" your race engineer's voice cuts through the haze of your thoughts, causing you to straighten up immediately.

"Yes! Sorry," you mumble, but just at that moment, you see him walk into the garage, greeting a couple of the mechanics warmly. Before you realise it, he's beelining straight for you, his arm coming around your waist as he leans in close to your ear.

"There's a ton of cameras, I just wanted to be believable," he whispers, and when he pulls back you can see the smile on his face. You nod curtly, fully aware of how red your face feels over such a small interaction as he waltzes away.

"Okay, so as I was saying," your race engineer pipes up again, though you couldn't be paying her less of your attention - watching as your 'boyfriend' walks off, his brown hair illuminating in the afternoon light. For a fake relationship, the quickening pace of your heart felt far too real.

"Well you two have been teammates since the beginning of this year, can you tell us a little about when you realised you might be more?"

Your struggle was never-ending - or at least, that's what it felt like, finding yourself at the centre of an impromptu interview with Franco. Around you, the other drivers were getting questions about their place in their teams, how they felt about their current strategy and about their racing futures. And there the two of you were, getting thrown question after question about your 'relationship'.

"Well," you begin, before being saved by your teammate. You had to give it to him - he was great at making stuff up on the spot.

"Well, I think it was somewhere around a month after I first joined the team, and met her. It was just something about her, she's sort of electric in this almost untouchable way, you know?"

You try not to look too awkward standing next to him as he talks, feigning your best-interested smile - though a part of you is extremely intrigued by this fake story he's creating.

"At first I thought I just wanted to be like her, her passion and talent were just so respectable, but the more time I spent with her the more I realised it was something completely different."

He turns to look at you, his arm wrapping around your waist and pulling you close to him. Your expression falters a little as you're caught off guard by the sudden contact and as you turn away from the journalists and towards him, your eyes widen in shock at the sight of his pursed lips nearing yours. Before you realise it, his lips are against yours and you're pulling away as quickly as possible, face bright red. You're just barely aware of the thousands of flashing camera lights as you turn to quickly excuse yourself.

"Thank you all for coming, it was nice talking to you but, uhm, I have to go!" You hurriedly blurt out before slipping out of Franco's grip and darting off to your driver's room.

You hear his footsteps following closely behind you, as well as the sound of him calling out your name. When you near the door of your room, you turn around and grab his wrist to yank him in before you shut the door.

"What the hell was that?" is all you can muster out, "I thought we agreed no kissing?"

"Look, I can explain!"

You cross your arms with a huff, looking at him expectedly.

"I was just going to peck you quickly on the cheek, you know because we were getting all romantic and I wanted it to be believable! B-but then you turned, and then we," he's struggling not to ramble and his quickly moving hands do little to help. That's when you also realise his face is bright red as well, and he doesn't seem any less flustered by it than you do. "I'm really, really sorry I really shouldn't have done that."

You'd be lying if you said his explanation didn't make you feel any better. You're not actually upset about the kiss itself though, in fact, it's the opposite - actually, the grudge you're holding is doing little to help the internal struggle going on in your head. The kiss didn't make you angry, but the realisation that you wanted it to be real, did.

You sigh, rubbing your temples as you slump down in the nearest chair. Franco does the same on the adjacent couch, though his gaze stays carefully on you, almost afraid of what you might say next.

"It's fine, I think we just need to coordinate our PDA a little better then."

"Yes, of course," he nods quickly.

There's a beat of silence. "You're really good at acting though."

"What?"

"That whole story you made up about how you fell in love with me, it was really believable." You laugh lightheartedly trying to lighten the situation and alleviate the awkwardness that's settled between you two.

"Well it's pretty easy, I didn't need to make up much of it," his eyes catch yours and his gaze is soft when he smiles at you.

"What?" you're confused.

"Never mind," he scoffs lightly, his gaze dropping to the floor as he rubs the back of his neck. He looks almost disappointed at something, though you can't realise what. "Well, I'll leave you alone now. I really am sorry about what happened before." You watch as he pushes himself up from the couch, his head hanging guiltily - looking almost like a scolded puppy.

"It's fine Franco, really, please don't feel too bad about it." He nods thankfully before slipping out the door, leaving you alone.

Being a driver, hotel rooms had come to be a companion you knew far too familiarly. Their high ceilings, plush sterile white bedsheets, the empty bathroom - almost everything about them felt a sign of loneliness, of temporality, a house that never felt like home. Even though you knew how ridiculous it would be to complain about something that others would see as a privilege, it was hard to deny the isolation you felt whenever in a new country, away from most of your family or friends.

Maybe that's why you had been so eager to latch onto Franco's idea - it made sense, he had become the person you spent the most time with so why not give yourself some ridiculous reason to be around him even more? However somewhere along the way you stopped needing the reason of fake dating, somewhere in between hushed conversations, planned posts and candid photos - and instead found yourself genuinely enjoying his company. It was a little strange and sometimes acted as a sour reminder of how lonely you'd become but more than anything it felt like a blessing in disguise.

You were reminded of this fact as you lay, wrapped in a plush white hotel robe, across your messy bedsheets - laughing to yourself at the tweets your boyfriend had sent you. They were all about you, or the two of you, of course. Comments on the tiniest things, the way the two of you looked at each other, the way Franco held your hand, the way you worried about him.

"I feel a little bad, they're all so gullible," you typed quickly.

"Oh, so now you feel bad?" His response was almost instant.

"Don't you?"

"It's fun, isn't it? All this playing pretend."

Right, pretend. You rolled onto your back with a deep sigh, staring up at the tall hotel ceiling. All of this was just so confusing - as if figuring out how you felt about someone wasn't difficult enough, the two of you had complicated it by tricking the entire world into thinking you were in love. Whether you truly liked him or not, the idea was doomed for failure - and the more you thought about it, the more it seemed like the former.

"You're right," you typed back, watching intently as the three tiny dots appeared, disappeared then reappeared. What could he be saying that would need so much thinking?

"Can we talk tomorrow, after the race?"

You felt your stomach drop, had he finally caught on to how obvious you were being about how you truly felt, and decided that actually it might be better to just drop this whole act and go on as just teammates? With trembling hands, you typed back.

"Sure, what about?"

"I'll tell you then, for now, we should sleep."

"Goodnight Franco."

"Goodnight mi amor." You laughed softly to yourself at the nickname he had given you, though a small part of you took it as salt to the wound - almost as if he was dangling the possibility of something that could never happen right in front of your desperate little face.

However, not like you had a choice - all you could do now was get ready for bed and brace yourself for whatever tomorrow brought.

You couldn't believe it. The sounds of celebration erupted around you, but you sat completely still in your car, silent, attempting to process what had just happened. Your first win, and, your first double podium, with Franco. Your head was spinning as the never-ending stream of thoughts raced through your mind. Suddenly, you heard a voice coming from above your car's halo, muffled by your helmet. You flick the visor up, lifting your head as highly as you could - locking eyes with your teammate.

"We did it! Oh my god!" The excitement on his face is enough to send a slight surge of energy through you as he offers you his hand, helping you out of the car. When you do though, you stumble a little - the nerves are almost too much for you.

"Woah, you alright?" Even through the fog clouding your mind you can make out the concern in Franco's voice and feel his arms steadying you.

"Yeah, just-" you mumble, gesturing to your helmet and making weak attempts to undo the clasps underneath it. It's almost suffocating you, and the chaos going on around you isn't helping the pounding headache.

"Oh, let me," he reacts immediately, dropping his own helmet and bringing his hands below your chin to swiftly undo the clasps and pull the helmet off of you. You take a deep breath of air as you pull off your fireproof mask, though it sounds more like a desperate gasp.

Around you, the crowds roar with excitement, both your team and others as they make attempts to gesture at the two of you to join them. Your head spins though, and you wobble backwards into Franco.

"It's too loud," is all you can stutter out, though he understands you almost immediately, a strong hand gripping your wrist and pulling you away from the noise and somewhere quieter. You're not entirely sure where he's taking you but at that moment you feel as though you'd follow him just about anywhere.

Luckily though, when your eyes refocus you're in his driver's room, and even though outside you can hear the cheers continuing, you're offered some solace here, the walls muffling the sound. You sigh, sinking into his couch as you throw your head back, panting still.

You feel like it's all just too much - not just the physicality of the race, but the feeling of winning it, winning it with Franco, just Franco himself. When you finally manage to catch your breath you lift your head to see him standing over you, watching intently.

"Better?"

"Much better, thank you." You smile earnestly, "Though I don't think we'll be able to hide in here much longer, there is a cooldown room for this exact reason."

"Oh, I mentioned it to someone, not sure who but he looked important, and he said it would be okay."

You laugh softly, amazed at how he can seem so calm even at a moment like this.

"We did it," you say, still not being able to believe it.

"We did," he smiles, sitting on the couch next to you, "a couples podium."

You feel your heart skip a beat at the sudden reminder of your conversation last night, him mentioning he had something to tell you. Was this it? The two of you had achieved what you had been wanting this entire time, and there was no better time to let this ridiculous bit go than now.

You stare at the wall of his room, the gigantic flag of his home country, and let out a shaky breath, mustering up the courage to break the silence. "So..."

He turns to you, one eyebrow raised in interest.

"What was it you wanted to talk to me about?" You're trying your best to keep your voice lighthearted, "it sounded serious."

"Oh, well about that," he seems to have forgotten it temporarily as well, but the fact that he turns to look at the flag as well, almost unable to maintain eye contact with you, isn't a good sign.

Maybe it's the adrenaline from the race, maybe it's the fact that both of you are going to be needed out on the podium in about ten minutes - or maybe it's the fact that you're so desperate to get out these feelings and make him understand how you feel, but you start talking before you even realise it.

"Look, Franco, I," you start, not entirely sure of where you're going to end up, "I know you asked me to do this whole fake dating thing with you and I completely understand if you want to end it now, I mean why wouldn't we? It's perfect!"

He looks at you confused, lips parted as if about to interrupt you but you continue anyway, stupidly.

"But, look, here's the thing," you turn to him now, and you're sure your face is bright red, "I don't want this to end!"

You let out a deep sigh, and clutch your hands together to stop them from shaking, though it doesn't help that Franco looks even more confused now.

"What?" he says, and your heart drops.

"I," you pause, struggling to find the right words, and struggling to get them out, "I think I like you, like, for real." Okay, not exactly the best choice of words but it'll do.

"Like, not for the whole fake relationship thing?" his tone is still concerned and he leans in a little for clarification.

"Yes! Okay, I know it's not exactly what we thought would happen and it'll probably jeopardise our relationship as teammates but there, I like you okay."

"When did you realise?"

"A couple days ago, I'm sorry."

There's a beat of silence, and you're left with the agonising feeling of your heart racing in your chest, waiting eagerly for his response - for him to laugh in your face, for him to get mad, for him to reject you.

But instead, you watch as Franco's confused expression melts into one of pure relief as he sinks back into the couch with a sigh. "Oh, thank God."

It's your turn to be confused. "I'm sorry, what?"

"You have no idea how long I've waited to hear you say that," he says, eyes fixed on the ceiling with the widest smile you've ever seen.

"Wait you mean you-"

"I win!"

You're absolutely speechless, not a single coherent thought on what is going on or how to respond. All you can get out is a confused sort of grunt.

"I win, I've liked you for longer!" he laughs, sitting up and grabbing your hands in his.

You feel as though your jaw is going to dislocate at how fast it drops, "I'm sorry?"

"Oh c'mon, we've been teammates for a year I know you're not that oblivious."

"Well, apparently I am because I'm really confused."

"I've liked you since the moment I met you, you idiot."

"Wh-" You're about to be offended at the name-calling until what he says finally hits you. He likes you. He has liked you. For ages. You idiot.

"Even when you proposed this to me?"

"Yep."

"Even when we went to get ice cream?"

"Yep."

"Even when you kissed me?"

"Y- well wait no that was completely unintentional," he holds his hands out in defence. You slump back, trying your best to process everything today has entailed, it's almost too much. That is until you feel Franco move a little closer to you, his arm stretching around your shoulders and gently moving your head to lay on his. At that moment, it all becomes clear, and you're suddenly unsure about why you ever felt confused about any of this.

"What now?" You say, barely above a whisper.

"We go and get our trophies," even though you're not looking you can hear the smile in his voice. "Though, before then."

You lift your head up off his shoulder to turn to him with raised brows. "Hm?"

"Now that we aren't fake dating, do the rules still apply?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I'd really like to kiss you right now," he whispers, and there's a hint of nerves as you watch his eyes dart in between yours and your lips.

"Really can't wait can you," you tease, though you still move to close the space in between you to. But just before your lips can touch his there's a knock at the door, causing you both to slump back with a sigh.

"Hey, are you two in there?" it's your race mechanic, "you're needed, you know, on the podium."

You roll your eyes to show your obvious disappointment at being interrupted, though Franco just watches you with an endeared smile.

"What are you thinking about?" you ask, not being able to hide your own smile.

"I'm just thinking about how beautiful you're going to look up on that podium, and how I won't have to pretend not to be in love with you anymore."

Taglist : @spreadyourwings-my-smiling-angel @cinderellawithashoe @vanicogh @taasgirl @claudiajacobs

@dripostsstuff @boiolay @earth-to-lottie @dejavuontrack @dudududu-fangirl

@kravitzwhore @gavisuntiedboot @reiofsuns2001 @musicmie @danielle12002x-blog

@alelo23 @corrodeddeadlydoll @aliwritex @nina-or-anna-or-nora

@5sospenguinqueen @araunahj @sbrn0905 @halleest @lottieliveslife

@lovestruck-sky @im-an-op81-fan @blubra @vienoiserieetc

(don't ask me why it's formatted so weird, tumblr hates me)

[callmearcturus]

tobias

radiation

fox

is working on the new soundtrack to OFF

hang on the interview with them is actually interesting

What did you think about composing some tracks for the new soundtrack? Well, it's a complicated feeling. Let me clarify. Obviously, Fangamer and Mortis wanted to use the original soundtrack. They tried to reach out to the composer, ACC, to get the rights to use it... but ultimately, he felt nervous about signing anything and disappeared. However, he has stated that he doesn't mind that his music isn't being used, and he has no problem with the new soundtrack. So, it's a bit weird, but everything is chill. That being said, OFF is a very atmospheric and memorable game, and the soundtrack contributed a lot to that. It's an integral part of the memories that people have built of this game. Trying to replace those songs feels like breaking into somebody's house and pasting your face into their family photo album. But, Mortis asked me if I was interested, and, given that his game really inspired me, and he's a super nice guy... I decided I would try my best to help. To ensure that new players, even if they didn't get the exact same experience, would get a pretty cool one. I ended up handling a lot of boss tracks. I attempted to match the game's "style" by aiming for idiosyncrasy and atmosphere over everything else. I think the results are pretty cool. I also was assigned... the normal battle theme. I'm gonna be honest, just feels like I got assigned to take a bullet in the back for everybody else. I looked up almost every jazz song from the 1920s, I commissioned Carlos to make an entire fake jazz song for me so I could cut it up into samples, I tried making like 6 entirely different songs, but nothing I could come up with on my own felt quite right. In the end, I summoned Camellia to help me out by re-remixing my first track into multiple versions, and so ultimately I think it will feel pretty cool as you go through the game. (But, I'll be the first to say that I can't replace your memories...) By the way, I did the music for free, and I'll upload my tracks for free after the game comes out. Personally, I don't think the original music is replaceable, so I want to treat what I made like "fanmusic", made just out of love and respect for the original. Alright, see ya.

Love the remark about "assigned to take a bullet" because for fucking real, imagine being a game music composer and being asked to make a new "Pepper Steak"

for people who are not Certified Game Likers, it's like being asked to make a new version of The Fifth Element. nothing you do will replace the original and most likely you were heavily influenced by its existence, so what do you even do?

/slinks off to listen to "Pepper Steak" again

[gdinthehouseee]

I Belong To You: KWON JI-YONG x READER

summary: after years of being separated, and a night of stolen glances and unspoken feelings, your ex-boyfriend, ji-yong, invites you to his penthouse.

word count: 4024

tags: angst to fluff; exes to lovers, jealousy, slightly spicy towards the end

ao3 link

Ji-yong swirls the amber liquid in his glass, watching the way it catches the light, pretending he doesn’t notice the way cameras keep panning to you. But he does. How could he not notice the way you’re dressed in something stunning, the way you continue to command attention without lifting a finger, the way you’re pretending not to notice him too. He knows you a little too well for your liking—he always has.

Briefly pulling him out of his own head, the audience erupts into polite applause as the host rattles on about the next category, but the words barely register in his mind. He knows the drill—clap, nod, look engaged. He’s done this a million times. But tonight, it’s different. Not because you’re here. No. The two of you have been pretending not to see each other sitting so close yet so far from each other for a few years now.

Tonight is different because this time you’re not alone.

The artist you recently collaborated with is sitting beside you, leaning in too close, whispering something in your ear that makes you laugh. Ji-yong doesn’t have to check his phone to know what’s already happening. The cameras have caught it, the fans have seen it, and the internet is losing its mind. There will be clips, slowed-down edits, overanalyzed expressions. People will pick apart every second, searching for something—anything—to confirm their theories. Some will say you’ve finally moved on. Others will refuse to believe it, insisting you’re just trying to make him jealous. And maybe, in some twisted way, they’re right. Because the longer Ji-yong watches, the more certain he becomes that you know exactly what you’re doing. And it’s working.

The whispers had been there for months. Quiet speculations, half-serious comments under posts.

"Why haven’t they been seen together lately?""Ji-yong didn’t like her last three posts… something feels off.""She used to wear his jewelry all the time. When’s the last time we saw it?"

But nothing set the internet on fire like the day you released that song. It wasn’t an outright breakup anthem—no names, no obvious details. But it was melancholic. Raw. The kind of song that settled under the skin, playing in the back of people's minds long after it ended. And the lyrics…

You weren’t angry. You weren’t bitter. You were heartbroken. It didn’t take long before the theories started rolling in.

"Wait. Wait. WAIT. Is this a breakup song??"“Please tell me she just felt like making a break-up song…” "If they’re still together, why would she write this??""IS THIS ABOUT GD???”

Some refused to believe it, digging for loopholes, convincing themselves it was just a song. But the more they analyzed the lyrics, the deeper they spiraled. Someone found an old interview where you had casually mentioned, "I write best from experience." And that’s when the internet really lost its mind.

Breakup edits flooded timelines. Your old moments together—laughing, whispering, looking at each other like no one else in the world existed—now repurposed under the saddest soundtracks imaginable. Fan accounts were in shambles. Some mourned. Others coped through denial. But one tweet said it best:

"If this song is really about Ji-yong, I don’t think I’ll ever recover."

Ji-yong saw that tweet. And he hasn’t recovered either.

He should have known tonight wouldn’t have been any easier than the last few award shows. From the moment you walked into the venue, the cameras couldn’t get enough of you. The fans couldn’t stop screaming your name. And now, as you stand on stage beside him, accepting the award for Best Collaboration, Ji-yong feels a familiar, sinking weight in his chest.

You thank your team, your fans, everyone who made this happen. Your collaborator smiles beside you, the two of you standing close—too close—and Ji-yong knows the internet is already eating this up.

The lights shift. The first notes of your song together play. 

Ji-yong leans back in his seat, jaw tight, as you and your collaborator exchange a glance before stepping into position. The performance is effortless—smooth, intimate, rehearsed. Every look, every touch, every perfectly timed harmony makes it clear why the song was a hit. The chemistry is there, and Ji-yong isn’t the only one who notices. Fans are already screaming. Social media is probably on fire.

And then—just when Ji-yong thinks he can finally breathe—the lights don’t turn up again, in fact, they dim even lower. There’s a pause. Murmurs ripple through the venue.

Then, a single spotlight. It lands on you, and the opening chords of that song begin to play.

Ji-yong stiffens. He hears the collective gasp from the audience, feels the energy shift. Because this—this wasn’t publicly announced. This wasn’t planned. And yet, here you are, standing alone in the center of the stage, staring straight into the camera as you sing the first words.

"I don’t blame you, I just miss you."

The same line that had sent the internet spiraling. The song is stripped down—just a piano, raw vocals, and heartbreak woven into every note. Ji-yong doesn’t move, doesn’t blink, doesn’t breathe. The entire venue is silent, hanging onto every word. Because this is the moment. The confirmation. The truth. No one can deny it anymore. This is the breakup song. This is the proof. This is what the fans had been speculating about for years.

The camera pans through the audience, catching dropped jaws, wide eyes, people clinging to their seats. Some fans are already in tears. Others are recording with shaking hands.

And Ji-yong? He’s gripping his phone so tightly his knuckles turn white. Because the way you sing it—soft, emotional, your voice cracking just enough on the high notes—he knows it’s real. He knows it’s about him. 

When you reach the bridge—the part that had wrecked him the first time he heard it—your voice softens, turning almost fragile. The lyrics cut through the silence like a confession, every word laced with something raw, something unspoken. He feels it in his chest, the weight of your voice pressing down on him like gravity. The way you linger on certain lines, how your lips part just slightly before the next note—it’s all too familiar. Because he knows this song. He was the one who used to hear those words before anyone else. He was the one who knew what they truly meant.

Then, for the briefest second, your eyes flicker across the room.

And when they finally land on him—just for a moment, just long enough to steal the air from his lungs—Ji-yong forgets everything else.

It’s barely noticeable, but he catches it. The slightest hesitation, the way your breath hitches before the next lyric, the flicker of something deep in your gaze before you force yourself to look away. But he saw it. And it’s enough. Because no matter how much time has passed, no matter how many headlines or rumors or new collaborations have tried to fill the space between you—this moment tells him everything.

You still feel it, too.

Ji-yong exhales, shaking his head, running his tongue over his teeth before looking down at his phone. Without a second thought, he opens the contact that never blocked him. The contact that maybe should have blocked him all those years ago. The contact that shut the door, yet never locked it.

Your heart is still racing as you make your way back to your seat. The applause is deafening, a mix of cheers and shocked murmurs rippling through the venue. You don’t need to check social media to know it’s already in flames—fan theories igniting, clips of your performance circulating within seconds. But none of it matters. Not right now.

Because the only thing on your mind is him.

Sliding into your seat, you smooth your dress over your legs, trying to steady your breathing. Your collaborator leans over, whispering something about how insane that moment was, how the internet is probably imploding, but his voice barely registers.

Your phone vibrates in your palm.

“Come over once this is done.”

You stare at the words, fingers tightening around your phone. The weight of his message settles over you, heavy and intoxicating all at once. He’s not even pretending. No casual “Congratulations.” No vague “We should catch up.” Just this. Direct. Certain. Exactly like him, painfully so.

Your thumb hovers over the keyboard for a moment before you start typing. “Yours or mine?”

The reply comes almost instantly.

“Don’t make me wait.”

A slow exhale leaves your lips. The meaning is clear.

You lock your phone, not even bothering to reply, pulse thrumming against your skin. The award show continues around you—more speeches, more performances, more things you should probably be paying attention to. But the only thing you can think about is the fact that in just a little while, you’ll be face to face with Ji-yong again. Something tells you neither of you will be walking away unscathed. You can’t help but think of the last time you were in his penthouse.

Maybe it was the rain that made everything feel heavier that night, or maybe it was the way Ji-yong wouldn’t look at you when he said it. “Maybe we should stop this.”  You had known, deep down, that he was already halfway out the door, that the fights weren’t really fights anymore but drawn-out endings neither of you wanted to name. “Would you have ever let me go?”  He had asked, voice quiet, almost pleading. And you hadn’t answered—because the truth was, you never would have. So he did it for you. And now, after standing under those stage lights, singing the words that had lived in your chest ever since—I don’t blame you. I just miss you.—you knew he was out there, listening. You knew he understood. He has always known you a little too well, and he always will. 

The city pulsed beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows, neon signs flickering in and out of focus, their glow reflecting off the sleek marble floors. Inside, it was quiet—too quiet. The kind of silence that felt deliberate, heavy with the things neither of you had said in too long.

You stepped further in, the soft click of your heels the only sound between you. The air smelled like him—something warm, familiar, laced with the faintest trace of smoke. Ji-yong stood by the window, back turned, a cigarette burning between his fingers, untouched. He wasn’t smoking it. Just holding it, watching the city below like it might have answers.

"You came," he murmured, not turning around. His voice was lower than you remembered, a little rough around the edges.

"You told me to."

He finally turned then, his gaze sweeping over you, lingering. His lips curled into something unreadable—half a smirk, half something else, something more cautious. Like he hadn’t actually expected you to show. Like he wasn’t sure whether he wanted you to.

"Hell of a performance tonight," he said, voice deceptively light.

You swallowed, tilting your head. "Which part?"

"You know which part."

Of course you did. It had been impossible to miss—how the audience lost their minds when the first chords of your solo rang out, how the camera panned to him the second your voice wrapped around the lyrics. The ones you had written with him still lingering in the back of your mind. The ones he recognized the moment you sang them.

You shifted, arms crossing over your chest, suddenly too aware of the weight in the air. "Did you mean it?" you asked, voice quieter than you intended.

His jaw tightened. "Did you?"

It wasn’t an answer. But maybe neither of you had one. Not yet. The silence between you stretched, thick with the weight of everything unsaid. Outside, the city still pulsed, but here—here, it was just you and him, standing in the aftermath of something neither of you had figured out how to name.

Ji-yong finally moved, stepping away from the window, snuffing out his cigarette in a crystal ashtray on the table. "Sit," he said, nodding toward the couch.

You hesitated. Not because you didn’t want to—but because you knew what this was. You knew the pattern, the pull, the way the air always seemed to shift when you were in the same room. It didn’t matter how much time had passed, how many miles had stretched between you. The moment you let yourself be near him, the distance never seemed to matter at all. Still, you sat.

Ji-yong watched you for a moment before settling into the armchair across from you, leaning forward, elbows resting on his knees. His gaze flickered over your face, like he was searching for something—like he wasn’t sure if he wanted to find it.

"How long are we gonna do this?" His voice was quieter now, less teasing, more careful.

"Do what?" You knew what he meant, but you weren’t ready to give him that. Not yet.

He huffed out something like a laugh, shaking his head. "You know what. The stolen glances. The bullshit small talk when we run into each other. The way half the internet still thinks we’re secretly together."

You tilted your head, letting the words hang between you for a moment before saying, "Depends on what your definition of ‘stopping’ was."

His lips parted slightly, and you saw the moment the words hit—like an echo of that night, when he’d stood in this very room and told you that whatever this was… wasn’t working. That the two of you should stop seeing each other. When you hadn’t answered, because you hadn’t wanted to stop at all.

He exhaled, rubbing a hand over his face. "You know why I texted you."

You leaned back against the couch, exhaling slowly. "Do I?"

"I saw you up there." His voice was lower now, quieter, like he wasn’t sure if he wanted to say it out loud. "Singing that song. Looking at me."

"It’s a song, Ji-yong." Your fingers curled slightly against your lap.

"Don’t do that." He ran a hand through his hair, eyes flashing. "Don’t act like that was just a song. Like you weren’t—" He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "You meant it. I know you did."

Your stomach twisted. Because he was right. The song wasn’t a lie. It was the closest thing to the truth you could bring yourself to say, wrapped in melody and lyrics and the weight of everything left behind. You had known the moment you performed it that he’d hear every unspoken word between the lines. And yet, a part of you had still been surprised by how much it seemed to hit him.

Ji-yong leaned forward again, his elbows braced on his knees. "Did you write it because you were angry?"

You blinked. "What?"

"The song." His gaze burned into you. "Was it because you were angry at me?"

You let out a breath of something close to a laugh, shaking your head. "No, Ji-yong."

"Then why?"

"Because I missed you."

The words hung between you, heavier than anything else in the room. Ji-yong’s lips parted slightly, but no sound came out.

He exhaled sharply, dragging a hand through his hair, his fingers tugging at the strands in frustration. "So what, you missed me, but you moved on?" His voice was lower now, rough around the edges, like he was forcing himself to stay calm. But you knew him too well—knew the tension in his shoulders, the way his leg bounced slightly, the heat in his gaze.

You frowned. "What?"

"Him." He tilted his chin toward the muted TV, where clips of your performance still played, his eyes dark and unreadable. "You and him." His tongue darted out to wet his lips, and his jaw flexed. "That’s real, isn’t it?"

"Ji-yong—"

"Just say it." His voice was firmer now, raw with something that almost sounded like desperation. "Tell me you’re with him."

Your breath caught in your throat. "I’m not."

Something flickered in his expression—relief, maybe—but it was gone in a second, buried under something heavier. "But you could be, right?" He let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. "You look good together. The internet thinks so, anyway. Maybe that’s what you needed—someone who wasn’t afraid to have you by his side, out in the open."

You flinched at the accusation in his tone. "That’s not fair."

"Isn’t it?" He leaned in, his eyes burning into yours. "You think I don’t see the way people talk? How they say you’re happier now? How they beg you to move on from me?" His voice dropped even lower, like he was choking on the words. "Maybe you already have."

Your chest tightened. "Ji-yong, it was just a song. Just a performance."

"Doesn’t look like that’s all it was."

"And whose fault is that?" The words snapped from your lips before you could stop them, and Ji-yong stilled, his breath hitching.

Silence stretched between you yet again. Your heart pounded, but you didn’t look away. "You were the one who said we should stop, remember?" Your voice wavered, but it didn’t break. "You walked away first. And now you’re angry because someone else was willing to stand next to me?"

Ji-yong’s throat bobbed, his fists clenching against his knees. "I—"

"You don’t get to be mad about this."

"Like hell I don’t." His voice was rough now, sharp with emotion as he sat forward, his hands gripping his knees so tightly his knuckles turned white. "You think I wanted to walk away? You think I don’t regret it every fucking day?" His jaw clenched, his eyes blazing. "Do you know what it does to me, seeing you with him? Seeing the way you smiled up at him tonight, the way he had his hands on you like he had the right?"

Your breath caught, your stomach twisting. "Ji-yong—"

"It makes me sick," he rasped, his voice nearly breaking. "Because it should be me."

The room felt impossibly small, the air thick with everything unspoken, everything left behind. You could feel your pulse in your throat, your fingers trembling against your lap.

And then, softer this time, almost like he hated himself for admitting it—

"It should’ve always been me."

The weight of his words settled between you, heavy and suffocating. You could feel the heat radiating off him, the tension in the space closing in, crackling like a live wire. His eyes searched yours, dark and desperate, and something in you snapped.

Before you could second-guess it—before reason could talk you out of it—you surged forward, gripping the front of his shirt and pulling him in.

Ji-yong barely had time to inhale before your lips crashed into his. A sharp inhale, a shuddered exhale—then he was kissing you back with just as much fire, his hands flying to your waist, pulling you flush against him. The moment his fingers dug into your skin, a quiet, broken sound slipped from your throat, and that was all it took for him to completely unravel. His hands slid up, one tangling into your hair, tilting your head to deepen the kiss. His lips were frantic, almost desperate, molding against yours in a way that felt both familiar and like something entirely new. You gasped against his mouth as his teeth grazed your bottom lip, and he took the opportunity to press even closer, his grip tightening like he was terrified you’d slip away again.

The taste of him—faint traces of champagne and something unmistakably him—sent a shiver down your spine. Your fingers fisted in his shirt, as if holding onto him could stop the past from swallowing you both whole. It was intoxicating. Overwhelming. And so, so dangerous.

When the two of you finally needed to breathe, your breaths tangled in the space between you, uneven and desperate, his forehead pressed against yours like he couldn’t bear to let go. His grip on your waist was firm, his fingers still curled into the fabric of your outfit, as if releasing you meant losing you all over again. His name was on the tip of your tongue, but the weight of everything—the past, the pain, the longing—held it back. Instead, you exhaled softly, your fingers loosening their hold on his shirt just enough to smooth over the wrinkles you had left behind.

"It always has been you."

Ji-yong tensed. His breath caught, and for a second, he didn’t move. Like the words had struck him too deeply, like he wasn’t sure he had heard them right.

And then, slowly, he pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes searching, desperate for something—reassurance, confirmation, maybe even permission. "Say it again," he murmured, his voice rough.

Your hand slid up, resting against his cheek, your thumb brushing just below the dark smudge of eyeliner that had started to smudge from the heat between you. "It always has been you, Ji-yong."

Something in him broke.

With a sharp inhale, he crashed his lips against yours again, this time with even more urgency, like he had something to prove. Like he needed to remind you, remind himself, of everything you had once been. His hands roamed, gripping, pulling, desperate to keep you as close as possible. You gasped against his mouth, and he swallowed the sound with a groan, deepening the kiss until the rest of the world blurred into nothing.

His hands were everywhere—gripping your waist, sliding up your back, fingers threading through your hair as he tilted your head just the way he liked. The kiss deepened, his lips pressing into yours with a hunger that bordered on desperation, like he was trying to erase the time you had spent apart. Like he needed to remind you exactly who he was, who he had always been to you.

"You don’t know what you do to me," he murmured against your lips, his voice rough, his breath warm as his mouth trailed lower. His lips ghosted over your jaw, down the column of your throat, lingering at the spot just below your ear. "I tried, baby." He exhaled shakily, his grip tightening at your waist. "I really fucking tried to move on."

Your fingers curled into his shirt, needing something to ground yourself as his teeth grazed your skin, his lips pressing slow, open-mouthed kisses down your neck that had your breath hitching. "Ji-yong..."

With a growl, he grabbed your thighs, lifting you effortlessly onto the nearest surface—a sleek, marble counter, cool against your overheated skin. His hands spread your legs, stepping between them as he pulled you in, molding himself to you like he belonged there. And he did. The two of you belong to each other.

Your lips met again in a mess of teeth and tongues and unspoken words, the air between you thick with everything you had left unsaid. His fingers trailed up your thighs, his grip firm, possessive, like he was reminding himself that you were really here. That he could touch you again.

"Tell me you still feel this," he murmured against your lips, his voice rough with want. "Tell me I’m not the only one losing my mind."

You didn’t answer—not with words. Instead, you tugged him closer, your lips brushing his ear as you whispered, "I never stopped."

Ji-yong cursed under his breath before crashing his lips to yours again, this time deeper, hungrier, as if those words had undone something inside him. His hands slid to your waist, gripping tight as he lifted you off the counter effortlessly, carrying you through the familiar space like he’d done a hundred times before.

Your back hit the couch, his body covering yours in an instant. His mouth never left your skin, trailing fire wherever he touched. "You’re mine," he murmured against your collarbone, his hands sliding down, gripping your thighs to pull you even closer. "And I’m yours."

taglist: @thanosscrossmain @maskedcrawford @mirahyun @riddlerloveb0t @onyxmango @sherrayyyyy @seunghyunwifey @mattsturniolosbabymama @redhoodedtoad @bettelaboure @petersasteria @allthoughtsmindfull

[goldfades]

★ YOU AND ME, WE'D BE A BIG CONVERSATION─── PB⁵ (part 1/3)

❪ requested -> "paige x famous!reader (singer, actress, up to u) inspired by endgame by ts where p reveals that r is her celeb crush in an interview and a few days later theres a vid of r responding to it saying shes been obsessed w paige lately / its such a big deal bc r has been involved in a lot of romantic drama lately so everyone is kinda iffy abt her rn, causing her to put up a tough guard. but p sees thru the facade when they start talking and allows her to be herself, making r fall even harder 🥹 " ❫ for my disco nonnie!

─ warnings | gossip, a lot of drama and random ass names (sorry i get confused when i don't name them), mention of panic attacks, hurt to comfort, pretty sure nothing else?

⇨ missing out on updates? check out my wcbb masterlist!

"Y/N L/N, ONE OF the biggest names right now in the music industry has found herself at the center of yet another romantic scandal involving her ex and now, reportedly a new lover."

The 22-year-old pop sensation, who recently topped the charts with her latest single, was spotted last night leaving an upscale Los Angeles restaurant with actress and heartthrob, Camilla Harrison. The two were seen getting into the same car, sparking rumors of a budding romance.

This sighting comes just weeks after Y/N's highly publicized breakup with fellow musician Lauren Marie, with whom she had a tumultuous on-again, off-again relationship for over two years. The split was reportedly mutual, with both parties citing busy schedules and the pressures of their careers as contributing factors. However, sources close to the couple suggest that Marie was unhappy about Y/N's close friendship with Harrison, which began on the set of her recent music video where Marie made a cameo appearance.

"Y/N and Cam have undeniable chemistry," says an insider. "They've been spending a lot of time together, and it's more than just a professional connection. They're trying to keep things low-key, but it's clear there's something more than friendship between them."

Despite the drama, Y/N continues to thrive professionally. Her upcoming album set to release in the next couple month, is already generating significant buzz. Critics are calling it her most mature work yet, with deeply personal lyrics that reflect her recent experiences.

Meanwhile, Harrison, 26, known for her roles in blockbuster films and her good looks, has remained tight-lipped about the rumors. Her publicist declined to comment, stating that Marie is concentrating on her upcoming film projects.

──

"Okay, next question," the reporter smiled as she scrolled through her phone as Paige gave a tight-lipped smile toward the camera. "Oh! Found a good one, okay. Who is your celebrity crush right now."

"That's easy!" Paige laughed as she glanced toward the reporter. "Y/N L/N, she's beautiful and insanely talented,"

The room filled with laughter as the reporter raised an eyebrow, clearly delighted by the response. "Y/N L/N, huh? That's a popular choice these days, a lot of people are big fans. Have you met her?"

Paige shook her head, her cheeks slightly flushing. "Nah, I wish. But I'm a huge fan of her music. Every song is a masterpiece and I'm not usually into pop,"

"Interesting," the reporter leaned forward, intrigued. "You know, there are rumors about Y/N's love life all the time. How do you feel about all the speculation surrounding her personal life?"

Paige shrugged, maintaining her relaxed demeanor despite the stupid question. "I think it's tough being in the spotlight like that. People forget that celebrities are human too. Everyone deserves a bit of privacy, I'm more interested in her work and what she brings to the music industry rather than whoever she's dating."

The reporter nodded, appreciating Paige's perspective. "Absolutely. It's refreshing to hear someone focus on the artistry rather than the gossip!"

──

"Okay, quick. Who's your celeb crush right now, other than Cam," Bowen Yang, grinned at you, raising an eyebrow as the audience laughed, eagerly awaiting your response.

You laugh (and decide to ignore the comment about Cam), feeling a slight blush creep up your cheeks. "Oh, come on, Bowen, you can't put me on the spot like that!"

Bowen leaned in, his grin widening. "Come on, Y/N, the people want to know!" He pointed to the crowd as they cheered, causing you to put your face in yours hands.

You then take a deep breath, pretending to think hard. "Fine, if I have to choose... I'd say Paige Bueckers. She's incredible on the court, and I've seen some interviews with her ─ she seems like such a cool person."

The audience erupts with loud cheers, causing both you and Bowen to laugh. Bowen's eyes widen, clearly delighted by your answer as he clapped. "Ooh, scandalous! Paige Bueckers, I love that! Have you met her?"

You shake your head, smiling. "No, not yet. But I did see a clip of her saying some really nice things about me recently. It was super sweet."

Bowen's face lights up with excitement. "She was practically gushing over you, this is perfect, we need to make this happen. Maybe you could collab, I don't know how but uh, if anyone could make it happen, it's you."

"Thank you, I think?" You laugh, nodding. "Totally, we'll see what happens."

Bowen turns to the camera, his enthusiasm infectious. "You heard it here first, folks! Y/N and Paige Bueckers, the crossover we never knew we needed but now desperately want!"

The audience erupts in applause and cheers, and you can't help but smile at the idea. Bowen turns back to you, his tone shifting slightly more serious. "Alright, before we wrap up, I have to ask ─ how do you deal with all the attention and rumors about your personal life? It seems like you're constantly in the spotlight."

You take a moment to gather your thoughts, caught off guard by the serious question. "It's um, definitely challenging at times, but I try to focus on the positive aspects. I love making music and my fans. As for the rumors, I just remind myself that I can't control what people say or think. I stay true to myself and the people who really know me, and that's what matters most."

Bowen nods appreciatively. "Wise words, Y/N. And that's why we love you so. Thank you so much for being here tonight."

"Thank you for having me," you reply, genuinely touched by the support.

"And that's Y/N L/N!"

The crowd erupts in cheers as you genuinely smile, happy for the support, waving toward the audience.

──

"Hey everyone, welcome back to the podcast I'm Lila, and today we've got a lot to talk about. Y/N L/N is at the center of yet another romantic scandal, and there's even a new twist involving basketball star Paige Bueckers. Let's dive in!" Lila said, her enthusiasm palpable.

"Yaya, so excited," Maya chimed in, adjusting her headphones. "So, Y/N was spotted last night leaving an upscale LA restaurant with actress Cam Harrison. They got into the same car, which has everyone buzzing about a possible new romance."

"Yeah, and this is just weeks after her very public breakup with Lauren, I think that's her name? It's been a whirlwind, to say the least. But honestly, I think Y/N is handling it all pretty well. She's focused on her music, and she's just living her life. What's your take, My?" Lila asked, leaning in slightly.

Maya sighed, her skepticism evident. "I don't know, Lila. I get that she's young and living her life or whatever, but it feels like there's always some new drama with her. First Lauren, now Cam Harrison? It's starting to look like a pattern."

"But that's thing, with being in your early twenties. Figuring out what you want, who you want to be with? I mean, she's also incredibly talented and driven. Her new album is generating a ton of buzz and it hasn't even been released yet," Lila countered, her voice full of admiration.

"Sure, but it seems like she's always entangled in some romantic drama. Maybe it's just the nature of fame or whatever, but it can also come off as messy. And now, with Paige Bueckers gushing about her in that interview, it adds another layer. I just hope she’s not stringing people along," Maya replied, her tone annoyed.

Lila nodded, annoyed at Maya's words but maintaining her supportive stance. "I get where you're coming from, but did you see Paige's reaction? She was genuinely excited about Y/N. It was sweet. Plus, Y/N responded so positively on the SNL interview. I think it shows she's got a good heart and she's just navigating her way through a complicated life!"

Maya hesitated for a moment as she glanced at the camera, then continued. "I mean, look at Taylor Swift. She's known for her string of high-profile relationships and breakups, and it hasn't always been received positively. It feels like Y/N is heading down a similar path- What?"

"Come on, Maya!" Lila glared at her, clearly displeased. "Comparing Y/N to Taylor Swift isn't fair. Taylor's faced a lot of unfair criticism for just living her life and expressing herself through her music. Y/N is her own person, with her own journey. She's navigating her twenties in the spotlight, and that's not easy."

Maya just shrugged as she glanced toward the camera, before adjusting her mic. "Well that got awkward, moving on..."

──── COMMENTS

sela 🐾 | is she wrong though... love her music but why'd paige gotta get involved too? ♡ 108

↳ l/nslover | cause they like each other???

↳ 🦕 | has bro ever heard of a pr relationship 😭

↳ ari! | THEYRE NOT EVEN TOGETHER YET BROOO😭😭😭

sarah™️ | LILA GET THE HELL OUTTA THERE BROOOO 😭😭 i never liked maya tbh this is just a weird ass take ♡ 1.7k

kayla 🎀 | listen as a y/n girly i also understand maya's point of view cause.... shes kinda for the streets ♡ 879

↳ ™️ | dont call yourself a """"" y/n girly """""" if ur gonna say she's for the streets??? the fuck??

⭐️ | i was understanding maya's pov up until she started saying all that taylor swift bullshit, they're two separate artists LET US LIVEEEEEEE ♡ 2k

josie may | hardest watch of the day 🥲 maya u let us down with that dumb ass take

──

"I just kinda... wanna disappear for awhile," you confessed, your voice quiet as you pressed the phone to your ear. "Don't know why this keeps happening, you're the only that can... help me through it. Sorry if I woke you up-"

It happened again ─ over the last couple of months (ever since you'd broken up with Lauren) you'd gotten pretty severe panic attacks. You were told by everyone on your team to just stay off social media and what had you done... exactly the opposite of that.

"No, no, I was awake anyway, promise," Paige's voice echoed through the phone. You heard shuffling through the phone as you sniffled, sighing. "And I don't mind, like at all. I meant what I said, I'm always here for you,"

Your heart swelled as you managed a smile, as tears began to build in your eyes. You and Paige had only been talking a month and she already understood you more than anyone had in what felt like forever. Her steady presence was like an anchor in the storm of your life.

The constant media scrutiny and the aftermath of your breakup with Lauren had left you feeling alone, but Paige’s calming influence was slowly becoming your safe haven.

"I just... I don't know how to deal with all of it. The rumors, the pressure, it's all so overwhelming," you admitted, wiping away the tears that had started to fall. "Half of it, it isn't even true."

"Hey, it's okay, I know, I believe you," Paige's voice was soothing, almost like a warm embrace over the phone. Even the smallest affirmation from Paige made you feel all okay again, even if it was just for the moment.

"You're not alone in this. We can figure it out together, step by step."

That part made your lips twitch up in a smile, feeling yourself relax again. You took a deep breath, feeling a bit of the tension ease from your shoulders. "I just feel like I can't breathe sometimes. Like the walls are closing in, y'know?"

"I get it," Paige replied softly. She'd know about it all too well, she'd been through it herself plenty of times. "Sometimes it helps to focus on the small things. One step at a time, remember? Have you tried any of those breathing exercises I taught you?"

You nodded, even though she couldn't see you. "Yeah, a little. They help, but it’s hard to remember in the moment."

"Next time you feel a panic attack coming on, call me. Anytime, okay? We'll get through it together," Paige's voice was firm, reassuring. "You don't deserve the shit they give you, like at all."

"Thank you," you whispered, feeling a surge of gratitude. "I don't know what I'd do without you, P."

"You don't have to thank me. I care about you, and I wanna help. Plus, I like hearing your voice," Paige added with a light chuckle, trying to lift your spirits.

You couldn't help but smile at that. "Me too, especially your cute tired voice."

"Cute, really?" Paige laughed through the phone and you swore you felt like your whole world felt even again. "But uh, if you do really wanna disappear you can always come to Connecticut."

The thought of escaping the relentless spotlight, even for a little while, sounded like a dream. "Really?"

"Yeah, you can stay with me for a bit, if that's uh... what you want." Paige explained through the phone. "My friends are super chill and it's always a fun time, if you ever wanna come. Think about it?"

The idea of spending time with the basketball player you'd quickly become enthralled with, seemed almost like a dream. And getting away from LA and all the madness that came with it sounded heavenly, you were going to give Connecticut a thought.

You sighed, feeling a warmth spread through you that had been absent for far too long. "Yeah, I will. And Paige?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you. Really."

"Anytime, Y/N. Sweet dreams."

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[sleepyeepyp3rson]

wwe/pro fighters!141 x announcer!reader (pt 2.)

Two losses in a row, a broken arm, and a complete disruption of the script. Add it all up, and it's trouble for you. So much so that your boss, Shepherd, called you into his office and told you to fix it. Or else. Not ominous at all.

an: oh yeah buddy pt 2. tried to do a pov switch (?) hope it isnt too confusing lmao. tried to keep reader as gender neutral as possible. dee vs accents, dee vs giving the reader a nickname

tw: nothing much, tagging these just to be safe. reader is told to "cover up more" and be less of a distraction, soap is a clingy, overenthusiastic little guy, reader briefly wants to kill their boss

(masterlist, 1)

"Four against three. One with a broken arm. Tell me how, in less than two matches, a team with a perfect track record loses twice and completely disrupts the script?"

You start, but Shepherd interrupts you. "They got distracted, that's how." He stands and starts pacing, looming over you. "The 141 boys were supposed to win last night. That's the script, that's why we did the promo the way we did it. And they, pro wrestlers with years of experience, got distracted."

He slams his hand down on the desk.

"Fix it." A finger in your face. "I don't care how! Cover up more, talk less, I don't care. Fix it!"

And like that, you're dismissed. Left standing outside his office door like some puppy. You want to march right back in there and slam his stupid, deformed pug-looking face right into his desk. But you can't. You need this job. It's your dream and your only source of income.

So you go home, and you stare into the mirror for a good ten minutes.

Okay. Just... talk less. Easy. You can shut up, you can stop talking. Not like you're the only announcer anyway, you have your coworkers. But how would that even work? You're an announcer. You announce things! Are you just supposed to not do your job? Does Shepherd not know why he hired you? Is he not the one signing the checks?

You settle for wearing a turtleneck the next day.

Pulling into the parking lot is no problem, neither is passing through security and going backstage, but the second you pass the men's locker room on the way to your booth, you're stopped.

"Aye, bonnie!" An arm makes its way over your shoulders, and turning your head, you see a familiar sharp grin.

"Soap." You shrug him off. Usually, it's fine, just him being touchy as normal, but you were told to sort out the distraction problem, to take up less space in the company, so you need to do that.

A flash of hurt passes over his face, and it stabs at your heart. "You can call me Johnny-" You shake your head. You did, before the whole almost losing your job thing.

You walk away before he can pull out the puppy eyes.

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

"Somethin''s up with our announcer."

Gaz pokes his head up at that. "Sunshine?" At Soap's nod, he curses and stops his stretches. Ghost looks up too, eyes narrowed, always watching.

"Knew something was off when I saw the turtleneck. Never worn one of 'em before." He huffs, looking at the little TV they have in the room to see what's going on. "I mean, steamin' Jesus. Thing swallows 'em. Like I'm watching a live show of a nunnery."

"Somethin' wrong?" Price chooses that moment to look up from his cigar and actually pay attention to the conversation.

"Aye. Sunshine's a bit too quiet, ye ken?"

Price hums, running a hand over his face and beard. "A bit concerning. Not like 'em to be quiet for so long. Someone say something?"

Gaz and Soap look at each other, clearly not considering that option, then back at the TV.

"Maybe we should look into it." Ghost speaks up for the first time, voice a low mix of a whisper and grumble as he fixes a few stray stitches in his costume. "Saw 'em leave Shepherds office yesterday. Could pay 'im a little visit."

Price stands, groaning and rubbing a hand on his lower back. He really needs to use those ice packs his PT gave him. "I'll go. Stay low for now, prep for that interview."

A chorus of "Aye, Cap" rings out, and Price exits the locker room.

Soap waits for a few seconds before he rises, and is immediately tugged right back down by Ghost. A dog on a leash, he is. "Don't you even think about it, Johnny. You give 'im enough of a headache."

He grumbles, but he slumps down in his seat, eyeing the TV. Eyeing you. (And that stupid turtleneck.)

[cirrus-grey]

A theory:

Category: What caused this incident?

Category 1: Direct interference from the OIAR or one of its affiliates. (Bonzo, Needles, the person who reanimated Arthur Winstead)

Category 2: The location where it happened was marked. (Guy who turned into a tree, the charity shop, the liminal architecture)

Category 3: The victim walked into it on their own. (Violinist, dice guy, finance app guy)

Rank: What was the result of this incident?

Rank A: Net positive. There will be a price to pay. (RedCanary is the only A)

Rank B: Net negative. There is a benefit to reap. (Bonzo, Needles, dice guy, finance app guy, horror movie guy...)

Rank C: Net neutral. This incident balanced itself. (Guy that turned into a tree, violinist, charity shop)

Combined categories have more than one cause. RedCanary (23) went to a marked location, and chose to investigate the symbols they found. Gordon (23) chose to investigate the corpse, but was also affected by the cliffside location.

Combined ranks balance differently depending on whose perspective you take. Harriet (BC) was terrified of her reanimated husband, but Arthur had a balanced experience between being reanimated and losing parts of himself. Daria (BC) had a negative experience with Ink5oul, but balanced their own cost/benefit relationship with the tattoo. RedCanary (AB) had nothing but negatives after going to the Institute... but something else benefited from it.

-

Two notes:

1) Both dice guy and finance app guy successfully balanced their experiences as long as they rode the catastrophe curve between loss and profit. It was only when they tried to break the cycle that the final (deadly) negative blow came. This contrasts with the violinist, who reaped the benefits and paid the price willingly into old age.

2) The trailer with Sam's job interview was marked as Category 1, Rank B.

[hpiiker]

73 QUESTIONS WITH VOGUE, MR AND MRS GUBLER. 🪴📹

MR & MRS GUBLER HOUSE.

the opening of the vogue interview starts with matthew and you opening the front door together, welcoming the interviewer. offering any tea or coffee, making sure they feel comfortable or anything else they might needs. it's a very sweet and caring entrance. everyone on the internet is absolutely in love with the married couple and their stunning home. 🤍

1. What’s your favorite time of day?

around 2pm, when i feel most focused, and even though much of the day is done is still feels like the entire afternoon is spread out at my feet. - matthew.

for me, it's 9 am. it's the hour where i'm most sane and calm weirdly, even though i deal with severe anxiety - mrs gubler.

2. What’s your biggest weakness?

remembering that learning is a process; that being terrible at something that’s new to me doesn’t mean i will always be terrible and thus should quit. every expert was once a beginner. (then he'll ramble on about some allen edger quote) - matthew.

knowing that everything does have a reason of happening, it's okay to not know or not knowing enough. its takes time to realise, realign and relearn things! - mrs guber.

3. What’s your biggest strength?

my imagination, which helped me to create my two books and doodles and drawings. it brings a lot of peace and stability! - matthew.

4. What’s the biggest learning experience you’ve had?

everything takes it’s time, no matter if it’s good or bad. - matthew.

5. What’s your idea of a perfect date?

star gazing, sitting outside on the patio with my wife… or anything to do with my wife. - matthew.

<33 - mrs gubler.

6. What’s one vice you wish you could give up?

reading the comments on controversial tweets. - mrs gubler.

7. What’s a cause that’s important to you?

i would like more people to truly grasp the difference between a million dollars and a billion dollars, so that everyone would understand that a society with even a single billionaire is one that is failing. also the environment, specifically trying to save the oceans, the arctic, and the rainforest. - both.

8. What’s the best compliment you have ever received?

we just get the normal compliments, and we love any really!! - both.

9. When do you feel the most inspired?

reading with my wife before bed! - matthew.

10. Sweet or savory?

savoury! - both.

11. What song can you listen to on repeat?

twilight time by the platters! <3 - both.

12. What makes you smile the most?

matthew. - mrs gubler.

y/n - matthew.

<3 - both.

13. What’s one thing people don’t know about you?

i would love to be a prolific gardener but so far i have struggled to keep even succulents alive. - mrs gubler.

14. Heels or flats or sneakers?

slippers - BOTH.

15. Vintage or new?

vintage - both.

16. What are three things you can’t live without?

my bed, books and my wife - matthew.

i love you! - mrs gubler.

17. Window or aisle seat?

wndow - mrs gubler.

aisle - matthew.

18. What’s your current tv character obsession?

pipecleaner with eyes… - mrs gubler.

WHO? - matthew.

19. Leather or lace?

lace, makes me feel sexy <3 - mrs gubler.

damn right. - matthew.

20. What’s the most adventurous thing you’ve ever done in your life?

nothing really… the only adventurous thing ive done was going on walks with my wife and mallory :> - matthew.

21. How would you define yourself in three words?

husband, lover and actor. - matthew.

wife, lover and actress - mrs gubler.

22. What’s your current favorite piece of clothing that you own?

my purple kimono - matthew.

matthew's hoodies - mrs gubler.

23. What’s a must-have clothing item everyone should own?

odd socks or kimonos - matthew.

24. What’s inspiring you in life right now?

my wife - matthew.

<3 - mrs gubler.

25. What’s the best piece of advice you’ve received?

if you feel it in your chest, it's fear. if you feel it in your stomach, it's intuition. if you feel it in your head, it's anger. if you feel it in throughout your body, it's happiness. if you feel it in your muscle, it's anxiety. if you feel it in your face, it's shame. if you feel it in your mouth, it's disgust. if you feel it in your throat, it's sadness. - matthew.

26. What’s your pet peeve?

none! - matthew.

him... wha- - mrs gubler.

what? - matthew.

27. Diamonds or pearls?

diamonds - mrs gubler.

28. What’s something you notice about someone when you first meet them?

their eyes... - matthew.

*blushing - mrs gubler.

29. What’s your biggest regret?

can't think of any? - matthew.

30. What’s heavily played on your playlist right now?

twilight time by the platters. - matthew.

signed, sealed, delivered by stevie wonder - mrs gubler.

31. What’s your favorite board game?

clue - matthew.

1965 frustration - mrs gubler.

32. What’s your guilty pleasure?

my wife - matthew.

MATT-, sorry about that. - mrs gubler.

33. What book did you most recently finish?

rumble buttercup - matthew.

34. What are you currently reading?

rumble buttercup - matthew.

matilda - mrs gubler.

35. How do you start your day?

cuddling up with my wife - matthew.

36. What’s your favorite holiday?

christmas. - mrs gubler.

HALLOWEEN (˶ˆᗜˆ˵) - matthew.

37. If you could raid one woman’s closet, who would it be?

ariana grande - mrs gubler.

38. If you could switch lives with one person for a day, who would it be?

edgar allan poe, no doubt. - matthew.

39. What’s one thing you’ve always wanted to try but you’ve been too scared to do?

can't think of anything surprisingly... - matthew.

40. What’s the one thing you wish you knew at age 19?

how astonishingly young 19 is, no matter how old it felt. - both.

41. Besides your phone or wallet, what are a couple of must have items?

my reason of needing a emergency contact... matthew. - mrs gubler.

WHAT-, NO? i don't cause emergencies ma'am... - matthew.

then why are you at the top of my speed dial list then... - mrs gubler.

42. If you were not an actor, what would you be doing?

directing and producing films/series, no joke. - matthew.

43. What’s something you can’t do?

Complete menial tasks (cooking, cleaning, Wallace walking) in silence. I need a podcast or music.

44. Where was the best vacation you’ve ever taken?

wandering around Europe for a summer with my husband. - mrs gubler.

<3 - matthew.

45. What’s one city you’ve always dreamed of travelling together?

british colombia - both.

46. What’s something you always travel with?

a scarf that doubles as a blanket. - matthew.

47. Favorite food?

ice cream. - both.

48. Favorite dessert?

cheesecake - both.

49. Favorite snack?

goldfish crackers and lunchables - both.

50. What’s a movie that made you cry?

any movie what has ever been produced by pixar - both.

51. What’s your favorite series of the last five years?

criminal minds <3 - matthew.

52. What’s the one talent you wish you had?

i would love to be able to play the piano, only my character spencer can - matthew.

53. What’s your favorite exercise?

doing nothing. - both.

54. What’s your favorite band?

the zombies, soundgarden and depeche mode - matthew.

55. What’s your favorite fast food order?

Egg and cheese mcmuffin, TWO hashbrowns. - both.

56. What’s something you don’t want to be doing in 10 years?

acting, i just want to grown old with her - matthew.

<3 - mrs gubler.

57. What’s the cutest thing on planet earth?

matthew when he’s snorning. - mrs gubler.

seeing my wife do her own thing. - matthew.

58. What’s the best thing that happened this year?

just seeing my husband growing and getting more amazing everyday! <3 - mrs gubler.

i love you so much - matthew.

59. What’s your favorite cocktail?

espresso martini - matthew.

same here! - mrs gubler.

60. Which movie makes you laugh the hardest?

hocus pocus or anything halloween or christmas film - matthew.

61. What do you usually eat for dinner?

anything my wife makes, because last time i cooked dinner… i burnt it. - matthew.

<: - mrs gubler.

62. What do you usually eat for lunch?

homemade rice bowl that my wife makes, it’s the best thing in the world. - matthew.

<3 - mrs gubler.

63. What do you usually eat for breakfast?

cereal - matthew.

avocado on toast with chilli flakes and oats - mrs gubler.

64. What’s your favorite thing in the world?

my wife or anything monogrammed but, it’s her monogrammed.- matthew.

matthew. - mrs gubler.

65. What’s your favorite color?

purple and red - matthew.

pink and blue, opposite attract <3 - mrs gubler.

66. What color clothing do you wear the most?

greys, greens, reds, basically the rainbow… - matthew.

black with a hit of colour (blue, beige, white, green and grey/purple) - mrs gubler.

67. What are three words to describe living in France?

pleasant. peaceful. - matthew.

yep - mrs gubler.

68. Do you like surprises?

no, we both aren’t keen on surprises ideally… - both.

69. What’s one thing you had to learn the hard way?

salt bagels are not as delicious as they sound. - matthew.

that i can’t have ramen daily 😔 - mrs gubler.

70. What’s something you’re tired of?

people who assume the worst of others, or insist on interpreting things in the most ungenerous lens. - matthew.

exactly what he said - mrs gubler.

71. Who do you turn to when you’re sad?

doodle - matthew.

music - mrs gubler.

72. What’s a trend you would like to see disappear forever?

any kind of hate really, it’s not that hard to understand or to accept others - both.

73.What did you want to do with your life at the age of 12?

i’ve always wanted to be an actor from the beginning of time really. - matthew.

it changes every month, so my answer is zilch… - mrs gubler.

[venussaidso]

Ketu Dominant Themes — 𝐍𝐚𝐤𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐫𝐚 𝐎𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 (part 1) 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝟑

disclaimer: spoilers for all movies or shows mentioned.

the warnings: mentions of drug abuse, sexual violence, self-harm, genocide, mental disorders/illnesses, cannibalism and self amputation.

The most interesting theme within all the Ketu nakshatras is one that is unexpected, as Ketu is commonly associated with concepts of disconnection or isolation from society as a whole — given its frequent link to the 12th house. However, it is more about the interactions with the unseen forces within society than anything else. The 12th house also represents the collective consciousness and all the interconnected energies that come with it, which we all become deeply influenced by. Ashwini is the most sensitive Ketu nakshatra, as it is easily consumes and absorbs by these 12th house energies through the native, often leading to chaos and loneliness.

Ashwini Nakshatra embodies nothingness, the oldest energy in the universe. It exists in the space before actualized creation and after the rise of awareness that emerges from nothingness (or the cosmic void). It is very fitting that this is the first nakshatra, but it should also be considered the last Ketu nakshatra. The focus here is on the spirit's evolution. The energy found in this nakshatra is as undeveloped as it is chaotic, which is why evolution needs to take place — and this usually involves extremely harsh forces to tame it. In Ashwini, there is confusion or a lack of self-awareness regarding one's own identity. I am going to use some films as examples to explore this point.

First, I'll use the most typical Ketu-coded character; Ashwini Moon Christian Bale's Patrick Bateman in American Psycho. This film follows an investment banker who revels in the wealthy excesses of his superficial lifestyle, surrounded by others who do the same. His life is empty, mostly revolving around getting into exclusive restaurants, indulging in designer suits, and maintaining a meticulous morning routine. There is a general pressure to conform, and the Ashwini native is highly sensitive to these societal energies, which they absorb — driving them to compete and, eventually, to go too far. For Patrick Bateman, it’s no longer about conformity; it becomes an obsession, and these pressures push him into homicidal tendencies as an outlet. This film perfectly encapsulates modern-day consumerism, and it is, of course, an Ashwini native who descends into madness as a result of the empty, superficial yuppie culture he is subjected to.

Nothing can fill the emptiness inside him, and he knows it. This crippling, painful awareness continuously fuels his violent self-hatred and his hatred toward others. This is why he remains trapped in a cycle of loneliness, surrounded by the same narcissistic, self-absorbed individuals who perpetuate this soulless culture.

The movie was adapted from the book with the same name, written by Mula Moon Bret Easton Ellis whose own experiences inspired the book "American Psycho".

Quote from an interview; OregonLive (2010);

"[Patrick Bateman] did not come out of me sitting down and wanting to write a grand sweeping indictment of yuppie culture. It initiated because my own isolation and alienation at a point in my life. I was living like Patrick Bateman. I was slipping into a consumerist kind of void that was supposed to give me confidence and make me feel good about myself but just made me feel worse and worse and worse about myself. That is where the tension of 'American Psycho' came from... It came from a much more personal place."

-- Mula Moon Bret Easton Ellis

Now, onto the movie "Fight Club", which was directed by Magha Sun David Fincher, and stars Magha Sun Edward Norton and Mula Sun Brad Pitt.

The most highlighted character from this film, played by Brad Pitt, is Tyler Durden, who plans on making a revolution to destroy the hyper-capitalistic, materialistic superficial culture that we saw destroy Patrick Bateman from the inside in "American Psycho".

(video - 🎧)

Of course, just like Ashwini Moon Patrick Bateman took his obsessive consumerism too far; Mula Sun Tyler Durden lays on the opposite spectrum, aiming to destroy modern society by blowing up all credit card companies and ruining the world's economy. Mula is related to destruction as it is ruled by Nirriti, the goddess of destruction. The oppressive forces that weigh on this Mula character, Tyler Durden, causes him into a spiral for freedom (9H), using extremities and acts of terrorism to be rid of ego/society. Whereas Ashwini, having no solid identity and just being undeveloped in nature, is more likely to conform; but so long as Ketu is there, there will always be an emptiness in the ambitious pursuit of things. Ashwini can grant excess wealth and fame, but with no inner fulfillment or balance, you see characters like Patrick Bateman. Or Daniel Plainview from "There Will Be Blood".

A movie directed by Paul Thomas Anderson who has Ketu in Magha, and stars Ashwini Moon, Mula Ascendant Daniel Day Lewis who portrays Daniel Plainview. Plainview is more Ashwini, as he is an extremely ambitious, capitalistic and competitive oilman.

His pursuit for wealth and power leads him to personal loneliness, isolation and emptiness, we see how Ketuvians become so drained by the energies they absorb in the pursuit of things. Similarly to Patrick Bateman, he not only hates others but himself as well and wishes for no one to succeed in life.

His primal competitiveness and self-loathing even drive away his only family, his only child. His adult son means to do his own oilrig business and cuts his partnership with him. But Plainview's unchecked ambition shows that even after attaining success and power, he literally goes ahead to disown his own son as he considers him competition now. And now he extends the same hatred he has for others to him. Further isolating himself; this validating his deep sense of loneliness that was always there with his self-loathing.

The film ends in an Ashwini fashion; in which Plainview goes into a psychotic meltdown and murders someone who he has had a long stewing hatred for.

(YouTube clip by me - 🎧)

I wanted to provide a brilliant video from the YouTuber "The Vile Eye", who explored the dark nature of this character; because it perfectly illustrates Ashwini nakshatra in a twisted way, especially in how Aries in this segment is influenced by Ketu forces. Everything about this character is every Aries stereotype you can think of from the top of your head, but Ketu exaggerates it to the point of extremity and tragedy.

Amazing video for anyone who wants to understand Ashwini at its extreme which can manifest in real life of course.

The series "Peaky Blinders" stars Ashwini Moon Cillian Murphy whose character faces moral dilemmas, as his relentless pursuit of power contributes to his moral ambiguity.

His ruthless ambition to become the most powerful in the criminal underworld is something I couldn't help but relate it back to Ashwini's drive & competitiveness.

The movie "Scarface" stars Ashwini Sun Al Pacino who plays Tony Montana. And fun fact, Tony Montana is loosely based and inspired by the real-life figure, Al Capone, who had Ashwini Moon, according to astrotheme — although take with a grain of salt as it conflicts with other data.

Both Tony Montana and Al Capone had unchecked ambitions and an unrelenting desire for power. In Ashwini, extreme power can be attained, and we saw how Tony Montana quickly rose to it (as Ashwini is the Star of Transport and it is associated with Shidhra Vyapani Shakti which translates to 'The Power to Quickly Reach Things'). Similarly, Al Capone was also driven by the desire for power, and he attained it.

Like Daniel Plainview in "There Will Be Blood", Tony Montana starts to experience isolation after all of his achievements. His chaotic behaviour contributes to his alienation, and he starts to feel intensifying loneliness, which seems to be a theme with this nakshatra. And this film also ends in Ashwini fashion; with absolute chaos, the psychotic unraveling of Tony and of course death.

I wanted to also add in the movie "Nightcrawler" which stars Mula Sun Jake Gyllenhaal who plays a character willing to go to the extreme lengths for success and personal achievement, to the point of exploiting others, unconcerned with ethical boundaries.

He has a distorted view of success and has an unchecked, ruthless ambition. He is also a socially isolated character, behaving inappropriately as he is disconnected from social norms. In his obsessive & relentless pursuit of success, he is devoid of humanity. Had to mention this film because these themes are not exclusive to Ashwini.

But as I did mention, Mula natives are more likely to be aware of societal pressures and these natives often feel deeply disturbed by them. In the film "Falling Down", Mula Moon Michael Douglas plays a character who has become disillusioned and is now aware of the pressures and oppression caused by the modern-day life. This movie is literally directed by Magha Sun Joel Schumacher.

He confronts many issues such as homelessness and crime, which are heavily rooted in the greedy, capitalistic system of modern society. But he becomes violent and chaotic himself, going into a descent to madness (from absorbing the energies felt by the collective who feel the weight of these oppressive forces within society). This movie deals with the consequences of unchecked rage, a theme shared in all Ketu nakshatras.

The film "Taxi Driver", which stars Magha Sun Robert De Niro and is directed by Magha Ascendant Martin Scorsese, depicts a man who suffers from extreme loneliness, alienation from society, and struggles with existential crisis. The film explores social decay; such as social disparities, the disillusionment of our main character to society's ills, crime, poverty etc. He goes into a descent into vigilantism, using violence as a catharsis which is a common thing for these Ketu nakshatras (mainly Magha and Mula as it looks at societal frustrations and the emptiness in life/modern culture).

The character also suffers from a possible case of untreated mental illness, and insomnia — and this seems to be a theme with all Ketu nakshatras in general.

Another film where the main character suffers from extreme insomnia is "The Machinist", starring Ashwini Moon Christian Bale whose character's insomnia and untreated mental illness literally contribute to his isolation and alienation.

And the film "Fight Club", in which Magha Sun Edward Norton plays an insomniac character who has dissociative identity disorder. And his split personality is interestingly played by Mula Sun Brad Pitt.

Then the film "Insomnia", directed by Ketu in Magha Christopher Nolan, starring Ashwini Sun Al Pacino who plays an insomniac detective who faces some mental challenges.

There is a spiritual belief about insomnia which suggests there may be a disturbance in one's spirit; unresolved issues that have been long reppressed may be linked to an imbalance of energy within the body. This imbalance causes restlessness and mental problems. This idea aligns with Ketu and the 12th house, which deal with the unconscious — particularly deep-rooted traumas and the ways in which they affect us and those around us. It isn’t just about traumas; it can also stem from the repression of internal suffering caused by loneliness or external pressures. We see this with Patrick Bateman, whose only outlet is literal murder, or Tyler Durden's "revolutionary" fight club, which causes more destruction around him as planned. Both characters violently act out from these unaddressed, decaying energies within themselves and within society.

The series "Sharp Objects", directed by Magha Moon Jean-Marc Vallé, mostly deals with family traumas, but also shows how those traumas and unresolved energies literally cause death and chaos around them.

Camille Preaker, played by Magha Sun Amy Adams, is deeply traumatized and troubled. She has a history of self-harm and bears many scars on her body; her self-destructive behaviour is a coping mechanism for the trauma she experienced in her youth (sexual violence by a group of boys and witnessing the slow, preventable death of her sister). Then we have her younger half-sister Amma, played by Magha Moon Eliza Scanlen, who has a hidden dark side shaped by the family’s troubled history and generational trauma. By the end of the series, we discover that Amma is the killer responsible for the violent murders that have shocked the townspeople of Wind Gap. Amma is behind all the gruesome deaths of the girls whose teeth were removed.

While Camille’s coping mechanism involves cutting herself as self-punishment for the guilt she harbours from her sister’s death, Amma literally commits homicidal acts. This reflects just how damaged and complex their trauma is, as well as the toxicity of the community they grew up in. Their mother, played by Mula Moon Patricia Clarkson, has Munchausen syndrome and is responsible for the death of her oldest daughter. Camille witnessed her sister’s suffering and death, viewing her mother as a monster — and now sees her little sister as an extension of her mother.

This series is an excellent example of how unchecked personal trauma can impact others, especially those who are uninvolved. It also shows how much destruction can be caused, as seen with Amma killing other girls as an outlet — similar to Patrick Bateman's. This is why I now realize how wrong I was about Ketu. Ketu is not necessarily about isolating from society. In relation to society, Ketu represents the unaddressed, rotting energies within it, always tying back to individuals’ personal and generational traumas. It makes sense that Magha relates to ancestral roots and the origins of oneself, including the origins of one’s trauma.

Now onto the film "Nocturnal Animals", which is directed by Magha Sun Tom Ford, stars Magha Sun Amy Adams and Mula Sun Jake Gyllenhaal.

Amy Adams plays Susan, a successful art gallery owner. She receives a manuscript for a novel called Nocturnal Animals sent to her by her ex-husband Edward, played by Jake Gyllenhaal. The book is extremely violent and tragic, but it turns out to be a symbolic reflection of their relationship and marriage, tying into Ketu themes of unresolved trauma and getting to the roots of it. The book forces Susan to confront how much her actions hurt Edward.

The movie focuses on confronting one's past and demonstrates how trauma continues to shape the lives of those involved. It also shows Susan still has unresolved issues, evident in her repulsed reactions to the extreme parts of the novel.

The movies "Split" and "Glass", stars two Ashwini Suns, Anya Taylor Joy and James McAvoy. McAvoy's character, Kevin, has dissociative personality disorder and these different personalities exist to keep him safe. His trauma is so extreme and deeply painful that it manifested into the creation of The Beast, his most dangerous and superhuman personality. Three kidnapped girls are prey to The Beast as they end up being devoured by it but only one survives — and that's Anya Taylor Joy's character, Casey.

The reason why she doesn't fall victim is because she, too, has suffered extreme trauma and her resilience through it is what creates her immediate connection with Kevin. It is when The Beast sees her scars that he calls her pure, implying that those who have been damaged are the ones who are truly evolved.

(YouTube clip by me - 🎧)

Also, "Split" is another example of how deeply repressed energies and traumas of one can ruin everything around them and victimize those close to the Ketuvians (usually uninvolved people's lives being violently taken; "Split", "Sharp Objects", "American Psycho", "Falling Down" etc.).

Ashwini Moon Zendaya in the series "Euphoria" plays a character, Rue, who has been through a significant amount of trauma, including the passing of her father. She uses self-destructive ways to cope with her deep emotional pain and grief, very similarly to Magha Sun Amy Adams's character in "Sharp Objects". Rue uses drugs to numb herself from her harsh realities. There is a moment in the series in which she has a chaotic meltdown.

(YouTube clip by me - 🎧)

Something I now understand with Ashwini is how explosive, volatile and scary its ungrounded energy can be — exactly why I'd commonly associate it with hysterical meltdowns which can lead to accidental or unplanned homicidal acts or other forms of harm/self-harm. This scene of Rue is vaguely taking me back to Ashwini Moon Christian Bale's spiraling and meltdowns in "American Psycho".

(YouTube clip by me - 🎧)

Ketu, especially with Magha, seems to cause erratic behaviours when its natives aren't purified of their long-accumulated baggage in their unconsciousness — exactly why the 8th house is also ruled by Ketu, as Scorpio shares this particular theme. As long as there is deep disturbance and imbalance in the body, there is no rest for the soul – even for future incarnations to come.

But now, I want to touch on the senseless harshness of Ketu. Remember, this energy embodies the eternal, sucking void. Mula nakshatra relates to the center of the cosmic void and delves straight into its roots. Ashwini has already risen from it, while Mula is centering itself back into it. Mula is where we seek an awakening to the truth behind reality. What lies on the other side of the cosmic void?

Truth is sought in Mula; but it seems in Ashwini nakshatra, it is understood that chaos and nothing is the absolute truth of reality. There is no inherent meaning to anything, which may sound nihilistic, but it is precisely what makes life beautiful.

In the film The Pianist, written and directed by Magha Sun Roman Polanski and starring Ashwini Sun Adrien Brody, the story begins on a warm note with a well-put-together family and a handsome, talented Ashwini man who dreams of being a pianist. However, things take a drastic turn.

We witness a once bright-eyed man transform into a shell of his former self after enduring harrowing events. The events continue to worsen, growing more tragic until there is no longer even a sliver of hope. The majority of the film is filled with despair, senseless cruelty, and the slow annihilation of the protagonist’s soul.

I've never watched a film more Ketuvian than this — surrounded by genocide, death, and complete isolation, consumed by one's own lonely misery. One moment, you think a character might somehow make it out alive because they have the conviction and drive to survive, but the film immediately takes that hope away as they helplessly die. You think the protagonist might finally see some light, and the film even provides brief moments of comfort, but it ultimately shows how everything stays horrific.

There are no answers to any prayers, as suffering is ongoing. This tone creates another layer of entrapment, and you watch as the character resigns himself to letting life do whatever it wants to him, trapped in a world where he is helpless. With Ketu, you come to realize there was never any security at all.

But his survival at the end makes you question why he even went through that to begin with. There was no lesson to be learned. Why did his friends and family die, but not him? In the end, he became the successful pianist he had dreamed of from the beginning. He was exceptionally talented from the start; these events took everything from him except his passion for the piano.

What he went through was senseless, as Ketu has no prime motivation. Saturn will push you through the worst so that you can reach a level where you can attain all of your reaped rewards, but Ketu doesn’t care about what you get in the end – that's also Rahu's objective, as Rahu deals with ego. Ketu deals with the evolution of one's soul, and that usually involves its annihilation.

The film "Society of the Snow" is literally directed by Ashwini Moon J.A. Bayona, based on real life events. There's a documentary based on these events as well, "Stranded: I've Come from a Plane That Crashed on the Mountains", directed by Magha Moon Gonzalo Arijon.

Now, in Society of the Snow, there is a tone of hopelessness set in the film because of the gruesome reality these characters (based on real-life people) experience. Never in their lifetime did they think that everything would change so drastically from just living the average life of normal teenage boys — echoing the opening of "The Pianist". These characters, who were part of a rugby team, get on a plane that would soon crash onto a glacier surrounded by endless, cold, harsh mountains — with just a piece of the wrecked plane remaining, which they take shelter in. The protagonists are surrounded by the dead bodies of friends who did not survive the crash, signifying total despair and loss. They couldn’t even sleep; the first night spent with many of them crying and wailing out loud, nearly freezing to death.

A day after, a rescue helicopter searches for them and they all scream out for help. But the helicopter misses them, barely noticeable under all the glacier that surrounds them. This is when the sense of hopelessness starts to intensify as the story progresses. Now that the chances of being rescued remain at zero, they realize they can’t ignore their growing hunger anymore. They all have no choice but to eat the flesh of the dead bodies, after running out of chocolates, and we see how these decisions mentally challenge some of the characters.

It is truly tragic that they were stranded, isolated from the world, and in complete despair every waking day, for a span of 72 days. After being rescued, we see just how malnourished they were from the looks of their bodies. They come back home bone-skinny and depleted. The monologue in the ending scene tells us how the survivors wondered: "Why didn’t we all get to come back [home]?" "What is the meaning of it all?" These were the questions I wondered for the movie "The Pianist".

Ashwini Moon J.A. Bayona also made the film "The Impossible", which is about survival and resilience — based on real life events. Much like "Society of the Snow", it also has a sense of complete despair and there is an involuntary separation of a family (which reminds me of "The Pianist" in which Ashwini Sun Adrien Brody's character is also separated from his family in the story).

"Nothing is more powerful than the human spirit", it writes on the poster.

"Nowhere", is directed by Ashwini Moon Albert Pintó. It's a survival thriller about a pregnant woman who finds herself isolated from society as she's drifting in the sea trapped inside a container. Because of her newborn baby, she is forced to survive and protect her child even when there is no hope. The reason she's even in the container is because she was fleeing a society of a dystopian future in which women & children are caged and murdered (her attempt to run away from oppressive, societal forces leads her to total isolation).

And we also have the film "127 Hours", directed by Ashwini Moon Danny Boyle, starring Ashwini Sun James Franco who plays Aron Ralston, whose right arm becomes trapped against the canyon wall when he was on a solo canyoneering trip. When he is unable to release himself, we realize the severity of his situation. He is completely isolated and alone. His own supplies have run out and he's losing his mind. The struggle for survival and one's own helplessness is a theme of Ashwini nakshatra as this drives one into taking extreme measures for freedom — as he resorts to cutting his own arm off.

These themes seem to speak of the power and resilience of the human spirit, as emphasized in "The Impossible" and "Society of the Snow". Our ability to survive even just our own personal traumas must be a testament to our spirit being an extension of the Higher Power which is behind the happenings of all of these senseless yet significant experiences and events we go through.

It is in Ashwini that one's experience through harsh forces contributes to the spirit's evolution after total annihilation, which leads us on the path towards moksha.

Ketu is very pure by nature, and it wants to destroy impurities. The repression of one's accumulated dirt can manifest in destructive tendencies. By facing one's true inner self and embracing your entirety is how you embrace Ketu in general. But one must go deep and inward. All three Ketu nakshatras deal with getting to the roots for this reason.

Ashwini is ruled by the Ashwini Kumaras, gods of medicine and healing, also known as divine physicians. In order to heal, one must get to the root of all disturbances to create the perfect medicine for healing. As Ashwini is ruled by the 1st house, this involves getting to the roots of oneself for self-liberation. Magha, on the other hand, is about tracing your own existence back to the existence of others — usually family members and ancestors. Magha relates to generational trauma and shining light on it in order to become freer.

Mula is symbolized by the roots of a tree, and "mula" translates to "roots." It signifies ancestral roots as well, but primarily the truth. Mula is where disillusionment takes place as one gets directly into the roots of everything, going right into the galactic center — which can also signify going right into the roots of our demons and letting all of that rotting energy burn from your body. After this purification process, one's consciousness raises by default.

Ashwini has strong, undeveloped energies that can be tamed and grounded to be properly channeled. In order to achieve this, one must let go of poisonous impurities so that they are no longer controlled or possessed by unseen forces. It is in Ashwini that we know of the interconnection of the collective consciousness, which was secretly discovered in Uttara Bhadrapada and remembered in Revati. Ashwini nakshatra is extremely sensitive to outward energies, as are the rest of the Ketu nakshatras. Every individual's consciousness is affecting the whole world in some way. This, being a Ketu theme in general, describes the whole energetic field of the world and how we each play a part in it and affect each other's lives.

As all Ketu nakshatras deal with getting into the roots of things, we must get dirty by digging into our own roots. These unconscious triggers, which form our Shadow Self, contribute to how we interact with the world and other people. There is always the capacity to harm or further traumatize others because of our own unchecked, hidden troubles.

[wordsarelife]

pairing: slytherin!group x fem!nott!reader, enzo berkshire x fem!nott!reader

summary: a mysterious love letter turns up in the slytherin common room and suddenly everyone thinks its for them... all while luna lovegood is simply trying to record everyones interview for the student papers

warnings: cursing, sexual references, mattheo being horny asf, ooc slytherins, me yapping, slow burnnnn

note: what if i just left this here? what then, huh???

"good gracious, woman, you're looking dashing today." mattheo said when you walked into the slytherin common room in the morning.

you narrowed your eyes at his weird behaviour. "are you—" your frown deepened. "—are you flirting with me?" you crossed your arms. "stop it, it's weird."

"is it really weird when i'm just trying to tell you how beautiful you look?"

your eyes darted across the room as if to search for something that would explain this very twilight zone experience. or maybe your friends were trying to get a rise out of you once again.

"it's ten in the morning, so if you're doing anything else than shutting up, then yeah, it's weird." you walked up the stairs to leave the common room and walk into the direction of the great hall, mattheo still hot on your heels. "also it's saturday. you normally sleep in until two or something."

"i was waiting for you."

"waiting for me?" you repeated. "are you sick?" you froze in the middle of the hallway, worriedly pressing a hand against mattheo's forehead.

mattheo pushed your hand away with his own, trying to interlink your fingers with his in a smooth gesture.

you pulled away quickly. "handholding?" you took another step back. "what has gotten into you, mattheo?"

"nothing," mattheo shook his head and fluttered his eyelashes at you— you guessed that that was supposed to look cute, but it send shivers down your spine. "i just had a visit from a little friend called armor."

"sure" you nodded unimpressed. "tell you friend to take his medicine."

"your sarcastic energy is killing all the positive feelings." he gestured between the two of you.

"good" you smiled.

"ugh." mattheo groaned. "i'll leave you to it for now, but i'll be back and hopefully you're ready to accept my undying affection by then."

"yeah, hopefully." you rolled your eyes. "i know that i told you to stop doing that, but maybe you should get beaten up to get whatever is loose in your head back in it's original place."

"just love" mattheo muttered, before he turned around and walked back in the direction of the common room.

you looked after him in confusion, before you shrugged, deciding to forget about the thing. it was probably part of some screwed up plan mattheo had cooked up once again. nothing to get angry about.

the great hall was filled with nearly the entire school, loud chattering echoing off the walls as students sat longer than normal, as they had no classes to attend.

"morning," you muttered, sitting down in your usual seat beside pansy. theo and blaise were studying a book about quidditch and draco was pointing out something in the papers for pansy to look at.

your friends returned the greeting.

you reached across the table and grabbed the jam, before you put a big scoop onto your bread.

"very interesting morning so far" theo muttered under his breath and you quirked a brow at him. "did mattheo catch you?"

"oh" you said surprised. "yeah, he did." you averted your eyes, not really keen on talking about the weirdest conversation you had had in a hot minute.

"was muttering something about your eternal beauty." blaise laughed, "some idiot he is, if you ask me."

"eternal what?" enzo asked, just arriving at the table.

"oh, just my sister's eternal beauty that is suddenly so actively talked about." theo muttered with a sharp tone. "any input?"

"uh. y-yeah" enzo nodded, quickly choking down the piece of bread he had started nibbling on. "it's uh- it's there."

"how dashing, enzo," blaise rolled his eyes. "really smooth. i see she's already taking off her shirt—oh, no, sorry, she isn't."

you shot blaise a deadpan look, "you know, blaise, if you spent as much time with your head out of the gutter as you do in it, you might actually be a decent human being."

"touché," blaise raised an eyebrow, smirking, before he returned to his book.

"looks just like me, doesn't he?" your gaze wandered from blaise to draco, who was pointing at a picture in the newspaper— oh no, that was definitely one of pansy's magazines.

"the male model there?" pansy repeated with disbelief.

draco tried to mirror the expression on the model's face. "do i look like him now?" he asked, his eyes jumping between pansy and you, since he had noticed you watching.

"well, you're definitely looking like... something." you winced, a little uncomfortable.

"draco, you don't even have the same hair color as that guy," pansy said unimpressed. "let alone those abs."

"want me to prove it?" draco let go of the magazine and unbottuned the first two buttons of his shirt.

"draco? what the hell?" theo shook his head, chucking the last piece of his bread at the blonde's head. "the fuck you're doing?"

"proving that i'm just as hot." his eyes narrowed at pansy. "if not hotter than this wanna-be model."

"i'm not sure he's just a wanna-be model." enzo corrected, now studying the abondened magazine. "this text here says that he is the highest grossing model of the last year. and that world wide."

theo stared at the magazine in disbelief. “wait, so he’s not just playing dress-up? he actually does this for a living?”

enzo shrugged. “seems like it. and apparently he’s ‘the face of global campaigns’ or whatever.” he paused, squinting at the page. “i mean, who knew?”

pansy’s lips twitched into a smirk. “yeah, draco, not just a wannabe. maybe you should take some notes.”

draco rolled his eyes and opened his mouth to retort something, but was promptly interrupted by blaise.

"yeah, sorry mate, you look nothing like this guy." he turned his head to inspect the image further. "although, i have to say that he looks a bit like me, don't you think?"

enzo shook his head slowly.

"well whatever." draco closed the magazine with a quick movement. "i look much better than him anyway."

"well, i don't see anyone paying money to take pictures of you too." you giggled, enjoying the way you could rile draco up with a simple comment, as he frowned at you.

"really smart, y/n" draco exclaimed with a roll of his eyes, before he stood up. “come on, pansy”

pansy furrowed her brows in confusion, but reluctantly got up, as draco made no move to leave without her.

“very weird morning so far” you mumbled, watching after your friends.

“hey, by the way,” enzo said, steering your gaze back to him. “i wanted to ask you if you could help me with my project for herbology. i had a problem with taking care of that plant.”

“that plant?” you repeated with a smile “you mean the roses we’re supposed to help grow faster?”

“exactly”

“sure” you nodded, reaching for the jam once more. “i’ll help you”

“oh, darling would you mind helping me with that very easy task for divination?” blaise fluttered his eyelashes at theo, who got the hint immediately, lifting his voice to mimic yours.

“you mean the one with the tea cup?” he smiled brightly, weirdly even looking a bit like you. “of course, my love”

their smiles vanished simultaneously and blaise turned in your direction. “this is how the two of you sound by the way”

“hilarious” you muttered, matching theo’s normally flat tone perfectly. “hey, mate, later i’m gonna make sure to smoke a whole pack of cigarettes and if i have time i might drown myself in the lake after that”

“sure” enzo nodded, his voice wavering and even picking up an octave to match blaise’ melodic tone. “i might order a few new gucci scarfs and after that i’ll watch that muggle movie that’s been on my list for ages” he dragged out the end of the word dramatically.

“and scene!” you grinned, turning in blaise’s and your brother’s direction. “and this, is how you sound by the way”

STUDENT INTERVIEW #183 — MATTHEO RIDDLE (take one) — by luna lovegood

camera turns on. mattheo sits in a very relaxed, almost offensively smug position, one leg thrown over the armrest of his chair.

mattheo riddle: so when i came down the stairs this morning, i found a mysterious letter on the table in the middle of the common room—

luna lovegood (leading lady of the student papers, behind the camera): actually you should talk about—

mattheo riddle: (frowning slightly) i wasn’t finished, goldilocks! anyway, i found this letter—

mattheo holds up a folded piece of parchment, camera zooms in.

mattheo riddle: —and surely we all know who wrote this.

mattheo unfolds the parchment, reads

mattheo riddle: ‘my love, i write this letter to tell you about my undying affection. i like everything about you: from the way you do your hair, to the way you carry your books. let me know if you feel the same. all my love, yours truly.’ no name. y/n was probably scared her brother could find this.

luna lovegood: y/n nott?

mattheo riddle: (grinning) well, obviously, she’s been in love with me for ages, hasn’t she? now my time has come to corrupt theo’s innocent little sister. if you’ll excuse me—

he stands up, takes off the enchanted mic and hands it to luna behind the camera. luna and colin creevey (cameraman) look after him in confusion.

"okay, i have to get my books and then i'll meet you in the greenhouse, you go ahead." you told enzo, who nodded dutifully and walked out of the common room without another word.

you fetched the needed school books from your room quickly, walking back into the common room only mere seconds later. you studied the books shortly, pushing them into your bag, when you noticed an abondened piece of parchment laying on the table in the middle of the common room.

your eyes darted around the empty room. no hint of anyone. was that there already, when you came in a few minutes ago? you had no idea.

"whoops" you muttered, pushing the parchment off the table and bending down to pick it up. you unfolded it, your eyes flying over the words quickly.

"i like everything about you?" you repeated confused. "shit, enz" you shook your head, throwing the parchment back onto the table and leaving the common room.

STUDENT INTERVIEW #188 — Y/N NOTT (take one) — by luna lovegood

the camera flickers on, revealing y/n sitting across from luna. she looks skeptical, arms crossed, clearly regretting agreeing to this interview.

y/n nott: (tilts head) right. the letter. (pauses) well, obviously, it’s not mine.

luna lovegood: this is not— (sigh) no one said it was.

y/n nott: (ignores her) but if it was mine—hypothetically speaking—i’d have to assume it was from enzo.

luna lovegood: why enzo?

y/n nott: (shrugs) who else would write something like that? i mean, it’s way too nice to be from draco, mattheo would probably set it on fire before writing anything remotely romantic, and blaise—well, blaise would’ve signed it ‘from your future husband, blaise zabini’ and included a self-portrait.

luna lovegood: that’s very specific.

y/n nott: yeah, because it’s true.

luna lovegood: but you really think it’s enzo?

y/n nott: …i mean, maybe? probably? he’s always so nice to me. and the letter said something about liking the way i carry my books, and he notices that sort of stuff.

luna lovegood: that’s very observant of him.

y/n nott: (deadpan) yeah. suspiciously observant. what if he’s planning something?

luna lovegood: (cheerfully) like asking you on a date?

y/n nott: okay, let’s not get ahead of ourselves.

luna lovegood: but would you want it to be from him?

y/n nott: … (groans) next question.

luna lovegood: there are no other questions.

y/n nott: fantastic.

the camera lingers on her vaguely distressed expression before cutting to black.

"i've done a lot for my body this past semester, you know?" draco smirked, throwing an arm up. "wanna feel?"

pansy furrowed her eyebrows, but complied, reluctantely pressing down on the blonde's biceps.

"wow, that's great" she nodded, smiling unsurely. "what are you showing me this for again? i mean any particular reason?"

"just letting you know." draco shrugged, as if it was obvious. "buffed and available" he pointed to himself.

"right" pansy nodded slowly.

"hey guys, you have time for a quick interview?" luna lovegood's voice interrupted the weird conversation between the two. draco shook his head and opened his mouth, ready to decline the offer, but pansy nodded, pushing the boy forward.

"actually, draco would love to"

STUDENT INTERVIEW #192 — DRACO MALFOY (take one) — by luna lovegood

the camera flickers on, revealing draco sitting with his arms crossed, looking like he’s being forced to attend a disciplinary hearing. luna, unbothered, gives him a pleasant smile.

luna lovegood: so, draco—

draco malfoy: —it’s from pansy.

luna lovegood: (sighing)…the letter?

draco malfoy: (nods, very serious) obviously.

luna lovegood: and you’re sure because—

draco malfoy: (leans forward, steepling his fingers) because she’s in love with me.

luna lovegood: interesting. and what proof do you have?

draco malfoy: she always sits next to me, she always compliments me—

luna lovegood: really? what’s the nicest thing she’s ever said to you?

draco malfoy: (thinking hard) … she once said, ‘draco, stop talking.’

luna lovegood: that’s not really—

draco malfoy: (interrupts) because she was overwhelmed. with emotion. also, it was obviously meant affectionately.

camera zooms in behind draco. pansy is leaning against the wall, slowly shaking her head.

luna lovegood: so you’re convinced she wrote the letter? i mean what if it wasn't her?

draco malfoy: (laughs, leans back) oh, luna. sweet, naïve luna. (pats his chest) denial is a river in egypt..

luna lovegood: you know how that quote ends?

draco malfoy: no?

luna lovegood: figured.

the interview ends with draco smugly running a hand through his hair, completely convinced of his theory.

"so just put it in there now?" enzo questioned, motioning the powder towards the rose in front of the two of you.

"right." you nodded, watching him gently shake the package until the powder had settled onto the entire plant. you studied the book in front of you. "now we have to wait about ten minutes, before we can continue"

"great." enzo nodded, dropping the empty package into the bin.

"great," you nodded with a tightlipped smile. you quickly continued talking, trying to keep the awkward energy to a minimum. "so how's everything going? i feel like we haven't talked in ages, i mean just the two of us. alone." you turned away shortly to fill a bucket with water. 'just the two of us'? you repeated to yourself, not sure what had gotten into you.

enzo, who was not noticing any awkwardness, smiled at the question. "totally." he grinned. "well, herbology has been a pain, but apart from that, everything's great. thanks again for your help."

"anytime," you nodded. "but you know i'm not that good in herbology myself. why didn't you ask theo?"

"well, for starters, he isn't as pretty as you." enzo smirked confidently, at the same time as all your facial features completely derailed.

"what?" you repeated in something close to a screech.

enzo's smile died down. "sorry, i didn't want—"

"no, you know what?" you grinned uncomfortably, trying to safe the situation. "it's fine—, oh ten minutes already?" you checked your invisible clock, before you pushed the water bucket against enzo's chest with a little more force then necessary. "water it!" you instructed between clenched teeth.

"o-okay" enzo nodded immediately, confused by your sudden mood shift.

STUDENT INTERVIEW #199 — BLAISE ZABINI (take one) — by luna lovegood

blaise sits in his dorm, his arms crossed, looking effortlessly cool.

blaise zabini: alright, let’s not waste time. that letter? clearly about me.

luna lovegood: are you sure?

blaise zabini: luna.

he gestures vaguely to himself.

blaise zabini: have you seen me?

luna blinks. colin adjusts the focus on the camera.

blaise zabini: "i like everything about you"—obviously referring to my impeccable fashion sense. "the way you carry your books"—have you seen me carry books? it’s graceful. regal, even.

luna lovegood: …do you have any idea who wrote it?

blaise zabini (smirking): i do, but it wouldn’t be fair to ruin their fun.

colin creevey (cameraman): (deadpan) so you don’t know.

blaise zabini: they’ll come forward when they’re ready. probably in a grand romantic gesture involving candlelight and expensive wine.

luna lovegood: you’re a minor.

blaise zabini: and yet, so emotionally mature.

the camera zooms into the background of the room, the entire wall is adorned by photos of blaise in various different poses.

"what do you think?" blaise asked, holding up two almost identical looking shirts. "this one, or that?"

theo looked up from the book he was reading. "i couldn't care less, actually."

"this is important, theo." blaise pleaded. "come on, mate."

theo sighed, marking the page of his book and closing it, before looking up at his friend once more. he studied both shirts for a few seconds, before he shrugged. "they look the exact fucking same."

blaise groaned, throwing himself down on his bed and staring at the ceiling. "i'm surrounded by idiots."

"what was that?" theo perked up, trying to catch blaise's gaze.

"nothing." blaise said quickly, not about to ruin his face by getting into a brawl with theo he would lose anyway.

"you sure?" theo raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying the moment of confusion.

blaise let out a dramatic sigh, pushing himself off the bed. "whatever, i'm wearing this one," he muttered, pointing to the shirt he'd already decided on.

STUDENT INTERVIEW #204 —THEODORE NOTT (take one) — by luna lovegood

theo is standing in the hallway, with his back leaning against the wall.

luna lovegood: so, theo, we're here to ask you about—

theo nott (skeptically eyeing the camera): this is not getting published, is it?

luna lovegood (confused): well, it's for the student paper—

theo lets go of the microphone that flies back against the camera. he steps around it, walking away. the camera zooms in on his retreating form.

"you're acting weird." enzo noted softly as he watched you walk circles in the greenhouse.

"i'm acting weird?" you asked with a pointed look. "what about that letter, huh?"

"what letter are we talking about exactly?" enzo furrowed his brows in confusion.

you opened your mouth, ready to answer, when the door to the greenhouse swung open and mattheo walked inside.

"there you are!" he grinned, pointing at you.

"oh, great," you muttered, pressing a hand against your forehead.

"i've got about a million condoms with your name on them, darling." mattheo revealed a row of condoms from his pocket, that unrolled itself until it hit the floor.

"ew, no!" you called loudly, looking absolutely traumatised.

"what the fuck?" enzo had asked at the same time, looking baffled as his head swung back and forth between mattheo and you.

"what the heck are you doing?" you asked, walking to mattheo and trying your best to fold up the row of condoms, but failing.

"i'm being responsible," mattheo shrugged simply. "i would suck as a father."

“you would suck as anything” you whispered between clenched teeth.

"you'd have to have sex for that first." enzo noted with a mutter.

"right," mattheo nodded, obviously satisfied that someone pointed out the obvious, and then leaned forward, pressing his lips in your direction.

you quickly swerved to the side and mattheo opened his eyes, confused after simply kissing the air.

"not happening." you shook your head.

"you don't have to be so tasteful, love." mattheo wiggled his eyebrows. "if it's about enzo, i'm sure he'll leave us alone."

"oh, gladly." enzo nodded. you didn't miss the hint of anger in his voice. "if that’s what you want," he said to you, voice dripping with sarcasm.

"no, it definitely isn't." you pushed mattheo away from you. "enzo stays and you leave."

"come on, baby," mattheo pouted. "don't be like this."

"you heard her," enzo said, sounding much more menacing than intended. "i’ll help you find the door."

mattheo paused for a moment, staring at enzo like he just realized something. "wait... are you jealous?" he asked, suddenly smirking. "oh, mate, i didn’t realize we were competing."

"oh, trust me, you're not," enzo shot back, his voice smooth as butter, but there was a definite edge underneath it.

"he’s right, you know," you muttered under your breath, crossing your arms. "you’re not really competition for anyone, mattheo."

"ouch," mattheo made a dramatic face, rubbing his chest as though wounded. "i thought we were friends, y/n."

"well, clearly that’s not exactly what’s on your mind," you said, pointing at the condoms still clutched in his hand. "unless you think friends sleep with each other."

"you can call us whatever you want," mattheo shrugged with a grin, clearly unbothered. "just not boyfriend and girlfriend. that’s actually what i wanted to talk to you about. i’m not big on relationships, but an open one? that, i’m interested in."

"i'm not sure in which way i ever indicated that this—" you gestured vaguely between yourself and mattheo, "—was ever happening."

"oh, don't be daft, love," mattheo shook his head. "you don’t just leave love letters lying around without meaning something."

"love letters? wait you think i wrote that letter? and to you?"

"of course. who else could it be from?" mattheo scoffed.

"enzo wrote it." you answered without properly thinking.

"w-what?" enzo mumbled confused.

both mattheo and you looked at enzo.

"well, i surely didn't write it." mattheo recounted. "and if neither of you wrote it, then that leaves…” he trailed off.

"oh god." you realized. "that's why draco has been acting so weird all day. he thinks pansy wrote it. for him."

"isn't pansy currently hooking up with that ravenclaw?" enzo asked confused.

"exactly!" you nodded, quickly opening the door and walking out of the green house, mattheo and enzo close behind you.

you found draco and pansy in the slytherin common room. pansy lounged on the couch, unimpressed, while draco paced in front of her like a dramatic protagonist in a bad play.

"i can’t believe you would betray me like this!" he finally burst out, spinning to face her with all the flair of a soap opera lead.

"oh," he added in surprise, noticing the three of you stepping inside—mattheo still holding an alarming amount of condoms.

pansy turned her head to look at you. “fucking finally.” she sighed. “could please someone of you tell draco that i didn’t write that stupid love letter?”

“you didn’t just write it!” draco corrected. “you wrote it for me!”

“that’s where you’re wrong, young padawan!” a voice interrupted dramatically. everyone turned to see blaise and theo descending from the stairs, blaise throwing his arms open like a victorious gladiator. “the letter was clearly for moi!”

theo crossed his arms, sinking into the armchair. his facial expression hinted at how uncomfortable he felt. "more importantly—who the fuck do you need that many condoms for?" he asked mattheo, eyeing the absurdly long strip still hanging from his hand.

“well, your dear sister—“

“i did not write that letter” you said between clenched teeth.

“yeah. neither did i!” pansy bluffed, crossing her arm and staring at draco, who was clearly not believing her.

“it’s unimportant who wrote it!” blaise corrected. “it’s important that it was written for me”

“sure” draco nodded sarcastically. "if it was so clearly about you, then tell me—what hair were they talking about? because i see none on your head."

blaise inhaled sharply, clutching his chest as though he'd been stabbed. "how dare you," he whispered, scandalized.

chaos erupted. everyone—except theo, who remained as indifferent as ever—began shouting accusations, arguing over who wrote or faked the love letter.

the shouting match came to an abrupt halt when astoria greengrass strolled past you all, plucked the letter straight from draco’s grip, and smiled.

“hey guys!” she smiled. “i have been searching for that, thank you!” she grinned.

“you wrote that?” draco muttered stunned.

“yeah, it’s for a guy i like” astoria admitted sheepishly. “could you guys please not tell anyone? it’s kind of embarrassing.”

you all exchanged glances, before theo, who was the only one with a clear enough mind to think, nodded. “we’ll keep your secret” he assured the younger girl, who smiled gratefully, before she walked back to her dorm.

"well, that was—" you started, but mattheo promptly cut in.

"disappointing," he sighed dramatically, flopping onto the couch. "would've been fun to rub it in theo’s face."

"to rub what in my face?" theo raised an eyebrow.

"unimportant," enzo said quickly before mattheo could answer.

"well, now that that's been discussed. how about a round of chess?" pansy suggested looking at you and you nodded with a smile.

the rest of your friends settled down too, returning to either their homework or an abondened book they still wanted to finish.

STUDENT INTERVIEW #211 — LORENZO BERKSHIRE (take one) — by luna lovegood

the camera flickers on, revealing enzo sitting stiffly in his chair. He runs a hand through his hair, exhaling deeply.

luna lovegood: so, the love letter mystery has been solved. any thoughts?

enzo berkshire: (dryly) yeah. turns out we’re all idiots.

luna tilts her head. colin zooms in slightly.

luna lovegood: you didn’t seem very surprised when astoria took the letter.

enzo berkshire: (smirks lightly) no, i wasn’t.

luna lovegood: why?

enzo hesitates, looking off to the side. he exhales sharply through his nose, then looks back at the camera.

enzo berkshire: because i asked her to do it.

colin creevey: wait—what?

enzo berkshire: (shrugs, looking mildly uncomfortable) i wrote the letter.

the room goes still. luna blinks, tilting her head.

luna lovegood: for y/n.

enzo rubs the back of his neck, suddenly looking anywhere but at the camera.

enzo berkshire: yeah. (clears throat) it was… it was for her. but i—i don't know. it didn’t feel right. just leaving it for her to find. it just— i wanted to tell her myself. face to face. not in some anonymous letter she’d spend days overanalyzing. but by the time i realized that, i couldn’t just take it back, so…

luna lovegood: (softly) you asked astoria to pretend it was hers.

enzo berkshire: yeah.

colin creevey: so… are you going to tell y/n?

enzo breathes out a laugh, shaking his head.

enzo berkshire: i don't know, maybe. but not right now. she seemed overwhelmed when she thought it could possibly be from me. i want to wait, make sure she wants it.

luna studies him for a moment before nodding in understanding.

luna lovegood: i think she’d like to hear it from you. eventually.

enzo berkshire: yeah. i think so too.

the camera cuts, leaving a black screen.

luna and colin were both sitting in the classroom where the school papers were edited, overlooking the material, just having watched enzo's interview.

luna smiled as she remembered enzo's confession and turned to look at colin. "delete the video." she said softly. "it's not our secret to tell."

colin nodded, already having thought the same thing, before he deleted the video and made sure nothing of it was still left on the camcorder.

luna watched the screen go dark, then turned to colin with a small smile.

"besides, it's more fun to let them figure it out themselves."

TAGLIST:

@mehrsdigitaldiary @swaysister @shyamanuensis @mattiesgf @shari-berri @the-lurking-await-you @marikajhaha @livia7137 @idiotussupremus @catiwinky @deepeststarlightmoon @ahead-fullofdreams @jjsblueberry @genterom903 @diakirstein @missgorldafirst @sagestack @fawningfrey

let me know if you want to be added!!!

[elainsgirl]

When an Elucien stan posted a video, there was an elriel that insulted her looks. Now, I dont scroll on my fyp so I had no idea until one of my mutuals shared the comment and asked us to call her out because it was a disgusting comment. Without hesitation, elriels did so and rightfully called that person out.

A gwynriel that was also pro-Nesta, got doxxed under a feysand video and I we were on a video having a discussion about the ships, so I told her im sorry she had that experience and even went to the creator of that vidoe and told them about it so they could delete the comment.

I, absolutely have disagreed with plenty of antis but nothing has ever been malicious. Its a simple disagreement followed by them blocking me or I block them and thats it. Even when I look at other elriels arguing with antis whether thats under my own posts or othetd; its your normal fandom disagreements. Sure, the tone changes and the replies become more sharp/annoyed when you’re arguing for a while but again. Its nothing mean or malicious.

when an elriel posted a meme about using TT to kill eluciens/gwynriels or something along those lines, so so many elriels called that person out.

Then you find out that antis have literally shadowbanned elriel month just to ruin it for elriels. That they have had so many commisioned arts taken down due to pettiness. That they purposely sabotage appreciation weeks (an anti literally called their own side out on it). That they bad mouth elriels to artists amd even other people. They talk about us in discord chats (personally they label me as the whiny elriel, dk about anyone else), some were even leaked to me by a lovely mutual on TikTok. Can’t forget when Elriels celebrate anything, whether thats a prominent article mentioning elriel or one of sjms interviews confirming our arguments and theories, antis always act so bitter and mean about it. Can’t forget constantly making fun of elriels, always trying to outdo us etc.

I havent seen an anti show kindness to elriels the way elriels have for them. I mean, a popular one doxxed an elriel and she is still loved by her community with none of them calling her out.

When huge accounts with thousands of followers make fun of elriels which simply adds to people then making fun and hating elriels even more, we can do nothing but have to face it. Its not fair elriels have to deal with that simply because these people don’t understand their influence on others but it’s there.

For years, I’ve seen elriels being mocked and made fun off yet they always take it in stride. Stand strong. They never returned that energy (aside from the odd ones here and there) until recently where, and I can’t and dont speak for all elriels this is just my feelings/experience, we’re just drained and tired, constantly fighting accusations.

and yh there are toxic elriels and toxic elriel takes but they have always been in the minority. Its not comnon to see an elriel say “Gwyn cant be w anyone due to her trauma!” But it is very comnon for antis to say, “Elain is a vegetable! She doesn’t deserve Az or Lucien! She better make my lulu baby happy!” And thats the big difference.