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seeingivy · 8 months

Text

it's time to go

actor eren x f!reader

**part of my method acting series

an: im sweating.

songs/media mentioned: happiness by taylor swift and it's time to go by taylor swift (not mentioned but name of the chapter!!)

previous part linked here

You take a deep breath in as you stand at the shining bright doors of the building, the reflective mirrors at the front showing you your small frame in comparison. You brush down the ends of your dress, ridding your palms of the sweat accumulating as you push through the doors.

There’s a receptionist sitting at the front, with short black hair who is diligently typing away on the computer. You can see the issue of Vogue, the one the Attack on Titan cast did for season two, placed in a placard at the top of the desk. And when you look around, you see that every Vogue cover you’ve done - the one of you and Sukuna, for your albums - is displayed everywhere.

Then again. This is a big deal. Surely it’ll be their biggest feature of the year.

“Alright. Your interview should be up the stairs, in room eleven. They’ll start set-up at twenty and then the interview will start at half-past.” she states, handing you a shiny key-card.

“Would you happen to know if my request regarding the piano was approved?”

“I believe so. It should be in the room.” she responds, smiling.

“Thank you!” you respond.

You walk up the stairs and find the room, a few workers shuffling around the set. They all give you polite smiles as you walk straight onto the stage, an expensive brown couch on the left and the grand piano you requested on the right.

You take your backpack off and pull out the box, filled with polaroids all tagged to perfection for your interview, as they all start adjusting the microphones and cameras into place. A shorter, older woman walks up to you, shaking the microphone pack in her hand as she gestures for you to stand up.

“Hi! Thank you so much for helping me out today. I’m Y/N.” you respond, clipping the pack to the back of your dress.

“No problem. I’m Leila.”

You pause.

“I know you. We-we’ve met before, right?”

Her face widens in shock as she nods, a bright smile spreading across her face.

“Yes, that’s right.” she murmurs, voice quiet.

“It was…god. That was years ago, back when we were doing press for season two. We filmed a video for your daughter, she was asleep and she was a really big fan, right? How is she doing?”

“She’s doing good. She’s still a big fan of your music.” she says, smiling as she loops the wires through your ears, shuffling your hair behind your ear as she readjusts.

“That’s sweet. I’m so glad she enjoys it, that-that’s very special to me that she does.” you respond, cheeks warm and something stirring in your chest.

You take her in full, trying hard to wrack your brain for how she used to look. She’s definitely years older now - five to be exact - but you can’t pinpoint any. No wrinkles, no tiredness - still the same woman you knew.

But you’re miles away from who you used to be, having aged what feels like eons. You think back to the interview, the compliments you and Eren gave to each other stinging in your mind.

Eren. I wouldn’t be standing here if it wasn’t for you. Not only because you took a chance on me after our first screen test, but every other hiccup along the way was only something I could swallow because of you. You-your steadfast determination and belief in me is something so inspiring, so warm unlike anything else. You’ve always been a safe place for me, somewhere I can always run to when I need someone. I’m so glad we can always be fish together.

Y/N. You’ve always been able to sense my feelings - my happiness, my frustrations, my pain - without me having to tell you. And you always, always know how to say the right thing to bring me back down to Earth from it all. You make me a better person and I love you for it.

You’re sure you're crying as you look back at Leila, her eyes wide as she reaches forward to wipe the tears. The deep feeling, the sadness sitting so deep in your chest that you’ve been trying to ignore, is suddenly too overwhelming, too loud for you to swallow.

“I’m so sorry. Was it something I said?” she asks, her look frantic.

You take her hand in yours, squeezing three times.

“No. It’s me. I just remembered that interview. What Eren and I had said to each other and it made me a little sad, that’s all.” you respond, wiping your tears against the back of your hand.

Her face deflates.

“I’m very sorry for what happened. To the both of you.”

You sigh.

“Thank you. I-I appreciate that.”

“This industry is not kind. To anyone. And having seen how you two were as kids, how genuine, it’s sad to see what they’ve said to you both. You know that most of it, if any, isn’t your fault. People- they’re cruel. You’re a very brave girl for still coming here.”

You swallow hard. And hope she still thinks you’re brave at the end of your interview.

You sit down on the couch, anxiously tucking the ends of your hair towards the back of your ears, as the interviewer walks in, a bright smile on her face. Leila leaves, giving you a thumbs up as she walks away.

“Y/N. Congratulations. I’m Layla. Thank you for finally coming down for your interview.” she states, taking her seat on the couch next to you as they adjust the microphone in front of her. She has a blue box in her hands, which she tucks behind the couch.

You don’t miss the snub she makes at you for postponing for months on end. You became a triple threat months ago. And your interview - about your career, about your work - was supposed to happen ages ago.

“Thank you for waiting until I was ready. I can promise you-you won’t be disappointed with what I have for you. What’s that?”

“It’s for you. We’re saving it for the end of the interview.” she states, giving you a smile.

You nod, as you brace your knuckles against your own box, the director coming over to give you both directions and stage you properly against the cameras.

“Hello everyone! My name is Layla Ray and I’m here with Y/N L/N. After a great deal of anticipation, Y/N is finally here, seated with Vogue, for the infamous triple threat interview. We’re going to go through the highs and lows of her career and ultimately discuss what comes with such a great title. Y/N, how are you feeling?” she asks, giving you a bright smile.

You swallow hard.

“Thank you, Layla. I’m doing okay. How are you?”

“I’m great, thank you for asking. This interview has been a long time coming. Six months to be exact. Any particular reason why?” she states, adjusting her tone to be quieter, matching your tone. You can tell she’s a skilled interviewer - the excitement from before dying down as she brings the energy lower.

“I-I wanted to be sure of what I wanted to say here. I want to be honest when we talk about my career and that requires self-reflection. I needed the time to do that. And I-I brought things here to share so I had to put those together too.” you state.

“We’ll go back to the start then. What drew you to the industry - acting, singing, dancing?” she asks.

You pull out your first picture, the one you ripped off of your wall. The paint is still stuck to the tape on the back, the picture of you, Falco, and Colt at your popstar themed birthday party. Colt and Falco have excited smiles on their faces, a sparkly pink crown on top of your head and your hands are clenched around the microphone, at the bottom. You can hear Eren’s words ringing in your mind.

Everyone else holds the microphone at the top, their fingers nearly wrapped around the wire. You’re like the only person I know who holds it at the bottom - like you’re doing in the picture.

“This is me at my fourth birthday party. It was a popstar themed birthday party my parents threw for me. I performed a little show for them and my brothers, did karaoke, the whole thing. I-I saw Hange’s speech a few years later when they became a triple threat and it-it basically cemented this as my dream.” you respond, holding up the picture before handing it to Layla.

She’s smiling, running her fingers over the picture.

“This must be a surreal moment. A dream come true.”

You wish.

“Let’s talk about Attack on Titan. How did you find out about it, what was it like being cast, and on a set for the first time?”

“I found out about it through a flier at my coffee shop. I kind of showed up on a whim and did a chemistry read with my co-star. I got the role later that week and was flown out to be with them all. I-I was overwhelmed when I got there at first. I didn’t know much about the set, the terms that you’re supposed to use, they-they had to teach it all to me, like I was a five year old. A fish out of water moment.”

You nervously walk to the other side of the set, where Eren’s sitting in the makeup chair. The team is brushing through the ends of his brown locks, his eyes fixed on his script in front of him, as he murmurs his lines under his breath. You reach forward and snatch the paper out of his hands and tuck it under your arm.

“Good morning to you too, Y/N.” he responds, eyes wide as he smiles at you.

“Sorry. Good morning, Eren.”

He smiles.

“I was joking. Did you need something?”

“I have an embarrassing question. Can you come here?” you murmur, cheeks burning pink.

He quickly hops off the chair, giving a sympathetic nod to the makeup team, as he wraps his arm around your shoulder, his face close to yours as you talk in hushed tones.

“What’s wrong?”

“What’s a hot brick?” you ask.

“Huh?”

“Hange. They-they asked me to bring them a hot brick. And when I said what, they were like…You do know what a hot brick is, right? And I got so embarrassed I kind of ran away and now I don’t know what to do.”

Eren pauses as he registers, which is immediately followed by him smiling and leading you towards the back of the room. He picks up one of the charged batteries of the walkie talkies and places it flat in your palm.

“A hot brick is a fully charged battery.”

“Oh. Right. Th-thanks, Eren.”

He puts his hand on your shoulder.

“It’s only like your sixth day on a set. I didn’t even know this stuff until the end of my first movie. You-you aren’t behind, I promise.”

“Okay. Thanks, I guess.”

“I’ll help you. Before the rest of the cast gets here. Teach you all the terms and the secrets and stuff. You’ll be a natural.”

“Really?”

Eren gives you a nod, the smile on his face drawing your eyes to his dimples.

“Thank you, Eren. Really.”

“It’s no biggie. I’ll help you with anything you want. Just ask, okay?”

“One of our most overwhelming questions that we received was what was it like filming with your cast? Your show - along with Jujutsu Kaisen - were really the first of their types to have such a big child actor presence on them.”

You smile, pulling out your next three pictures. The first - it's a picture of you and Bertholdt, holding a World’s Greatest Dad mug in front of Levi, who has the most annoyed expression on his face. The second is of you and Historia - tying Reiner’s hair into two tiny ponytails. And the third - you and Marco, hugging each other so hard that your cheeks are pressed together.

“It was the time of my life, really. I-I went to sleep every night with a smile on my face. They were genuinely such good friends of mine and this experience, these memories - they’ll always be special to me.”

“Do you have a favorite memory?” she asks.

“Hm. I-we were all kind of immature at that age. I still am. Anything related to dirty jokes, especially when Erwin or Hange were involved is a surefire favorite. Sometimes I’ll remember them and still burst out laughing.”

The teacher stands at the front of the makeshift classroom, the lazy energy enveloping the room. The warm haze of the summer has the ends of your hair sticking to your neck, the cold desk soothing your burning skin - preventing you from listening to whatever the physics teacher is saying about the solar system.

You look to your right to find the same sentiment shared by everyone else too. Eren’s eyes are closed, his chin resting against his desk as the sweat rolls down the side of his face. Connie and Sasha are sharing a cold drink between them and Jean’s nearly turning pink as he fans Mikasa - the only one who looks relatively comfortable right now.

You kick Eren’s leg.

“Hm? What’dya want, sweetheart?” he murmurs.

“Jean is fanning Mika. You could do the same.” you groan.

You feel a light breeze on your neck as you turn your head to see Eren, leaning against his arm as he fans you with the book. You take it from his hand, giving a head shake as you turn to your side, the two of you facing each other on the aisles. You instinctively place your feet on top of his, the two of you looking at each other.

“I was kidding.”

“I know. I don’t mind though. You’re looking a little hot.”

You smile.

“Just a little?”

“Shut up. You know exactly what I think about how you look.” he says, rolling his eyes.

You bite back your smile.

“And that’s why the answer is Uranus.” the teacher says, metal pointer smacking against the board.

You look up at Eren, the two of you so incredulous - from the heat, from being stuck in here for three hours, from how stupid of a word it is - that you both burst out laughing. And then get in trouble together.

“What the hell was so funny that your teacher had to take you out of class?” Levi asks, arms crossed against his chest as he stares the two of you down, hours later. Hange and Erwin are trying to mimic his intimidated stance, but all you and Eren can do is laugh.

“Um. You don’t want to know, Levi.” you respond.

“It’s stupid. We’re sorry.” Eren states.

“No. No, I want to know what was so funny that you laughed so hard you pissed one of your nicest teachers off.”

You and Eren give each other a look.

“It-it’s inappropriate. We’re really sorry, okay? We’ll go and apologize right away.”

You and Eren stand up, linking arms together as you move to walk away. Except Levi’s moved in front of you two, an entirely different look on his face.

“Do I need to have a talk with you two?”

“What?” you ask.

“A talk. About sex.”

You and Eren turn your heads to each other, eyes wide. And you immediately start back tracking.

“Levi. Ew- oh my god. What’s wrong with you? You’re so disgusting. And-and-and a pervert.”

“Y/N. Do we have to have a talk? Are you being safe? Why are you guys making dirty jokes in class that you can’t tell me?” he repeats, eyes burning into yours.

“No! Oh my god Levi! It’s not like that.”

Levi looks back at Hange as you look over at Eren, who's pouting at you.

“What, Eren?”

“You don’t have to act like you’re soooo repulsed by it. That’s not what you sounded like-”

You smack your hand over his mouth, cheeks burning.

“Eren. Shut up. This is not the time or the place to be bringing THAT up.”

He smirks, clearly delighted by how embarrassed you are, before pressing a kiss to your palm where you’re covering his mouth. He turns back to Levi, Hange, and Erwin.

“Levi. We’re sorry. The teacher said Uranus and we thought it was funny.”

“Uranus? What the fuck is so funny about Uranus?” Levi asks.

You bite down on your cheeks to stop yourself from laughing in Levi’s face - his very angry face. Luckily enough for you, you're not the first one to break. And neither is Eren.

It’s Hange. They’re smacking the back of Levi’s back as they ask him to say it again, the four of you - Erwin having joined you - as you all goad Levi on to say it again. And you laugh so hard that by the end of it, you’re on the floor - screaming for them to stop as Eren rubs circles into your back.

Your chest twinges, as she hands the pictures back, and you tuck them back into the box.

“The success after season one of Attack on Titan was pretty tremendous. You guys essentially became house names overnight. How did that feel, especially given your background? Nepotism runs deep and heavy in what we do and you seem to be one of our only outliers, here.”

“It was horrible.”

A shocked look spreads across her face.

“I’m grateful for it all. Don’t get me wrong. But my life changed overnight. I-I went to school and I wasn’t treated as the same person anymore, by people I grew up with. There were people hanging around my school, waiting to take pictures of me, and-and anyone who had a chance of understanding me, they were all miles away. Filming.”

“Did you feel that often? Comparing yourself to your co-stars?”

“Originally, no. I-I was just happy to be there. But people, I mean. They talk. It-it kind of cemented that idea in my mind. I didn’t think it was weird that I was the only one who wasn’t filming until someone pointed it out. And-and someone always pointed these things out.” you respond.

Colt snatches the phone from your hands, an irritated look on his face as he slides it into his pocket. After a six hour phone call with your new publicist and producers - Danny and Sareen - all you could do was aimlessly scroll through social media, their words swimming through your mind as you considered your options.

“Quit reading that shit.” he says, making an effort to storm out of your room. He hangs by the door when he reaches it, his hands pressed against the frame.

You shuffle under the blanket, pulling the soft fabric over your head. And a few seconds later, Colt’s pulling it off, expression a bit softer than before.

“I-I just don’t get why you read it. What’s the point?”

“I dunno.”

He slides onto your bed, putting his cold legs next to yours under the blanket as you complain.

“In my meeting with Danny and Sareen. They-they’re the new producer and the manager that reached out to me. They were saying all this stuff about how I can’t drop the ball anymore. How if I have people paying attention to me now, I-I have to keep it going.”

Colt frowns.

“I-I don’t know how this stuff works. What does that have to do with you reading a bunch of people saying rude stuff about you online?”

“I told them I had time to decide, figure out what I want to do next. They said I should look online and reconsider. That if I want to be a triple threat, I-I should trust them.”

“Do you?”

“Yeah. They-they’re right. And they seem like the type to push me in the right direction, like Levi and Hange. I know they’ll do whatever to help me be the best. They want what I want.”

Colt shrugs. And you know he doesn’t understand.

“Let’s talk about season two. You made history this season - by being nominated for Best Actress in a Lead role among many others, becoming the most nominated actress in Institute history in one night. How did that feel? To-to do that so young?”

“That-that was a win. It came after something really, really intense for me actually. I-I had all these feelings about what it was like to be famous. Building for months. And-and I got them put into words for me right before that happened. It was kind of like going from a really low low to the highest of highs. I-Intense is the word I’d use for it.”

“Could you elaborate? On that?”

You swallow hard.

“Being famous is like living in a fishbowl. There’s-there’s glass in between you, the viewers, and me the person. And it may seem like you can see me, that you and I are the same but the glass is always between us. You enjoy on the other side, smack against the glass, sometimes even put your rods out to wring us out. We-we’re stuck there, that’s all. I realized that and found out I got nominated minutes after. But that’s this job for you. You’re at the bottom one minute and the top the next.”

Her eyes flutter down to your tattoo but she doesn’t make a point to mention it.

“Let’s discuss music now. Following winning Best Actress in a Drama Series, your impressive albums and tours started. You released your debut album, followed by lover girl, and then ribbons. This-this was an insane feat on your part - most artists take four to five years to produce albums at this pace. What motivated you during this time?”

“My manager and my producer are pushing me at every step.”

She smiles.

“That’s some support system.”

“That’s not the word I would use for it.” you respond, voice cutting.

She nods.

“That’s right. Following your last performance, rumors were flying around that you had fired Danny and Sareen, your beloved manager and producer. Is this true?”

“Yes.”

“Why, if I may ask?”

“I just told you. They were pushing me at every step.”

You sigh, looking down at your hands, knotting your fingers together. One of the first things, you could come under fire for, is talking about them, so bluntly the way you are.

“I looked up to them. My previous example from my mentors - Hange and Levi - was perfect. Almost too perfect. Because of them, because of how willing they were to support me, to defend me, I thought everyone was like that. I thought every person who was willing to be on my team was taking into account that I didn’t know much about the industry and pushing me in the right direction.”

“And that wasn’t true for them?”

You take a deep breath.

“I think they used that to their advantage. That I had a blind faith in them. That I wanted to please them, to please other people. I didn’t know that it wasn’t normal to put out three records, to do world tours that fast. I didn’t know that it was insane that I forgot to eat some days, I didn’t know that it was crazy that they were waking me up after two hours of sleep to put me to work. I-I thought that it was all part of the hustle.”

“How do you feel about it now? Having fired them?”

“I-I don’t regret what they’ve done for me. I-I am thankful to them. If anything, I’m more embarrassed of what they did make me do. Why I didn’t think twice on things they asked me to do, songs they convinced me to write.”

She looks intrigued. She knows she’s getting into the good stuff.

“Songs like?”

“London Boy.” you respond.

“That brings us to Ricky James. Are you saying that you didn’t write London Boy?”

“No. No, I wrote it. But I was asked to write it the way I did. Write a love song about him.”

“Because?”

“Press. It’ll get people to talk. People get bored of the same thing over and over again after years.” you respond, repeating Danny and Sareen’s words, about Eren.

You sigh.

“It’s embarrassing to admit that I did that. Pretend just to get people to listen to my music. I-I am ashamed of it.”

“It’s okay. We-we understand.”

“I don’t think you do.” you whisper.

You can feel the tears pricking your eyes.

“I-I regret it. It’s a horrible thing to do. Especially when, when you have real love and you give it up to pretend. And it’s humiliating to pretend, to see people coo over you and a guy you barely even know. But when you’re famous, when people are telling you this is what you have to do, when this is what everyone does, it doesn’t seem like much to give up. I-I could feel the shame crawling in my skin when I look back at it now.”

You swallow down the regret, thick in your throat.

“How so?”

“The night my album premiered, Ribbons. In the past, all my best friends, they-they’d come to listen with me. Throw me a party, press kisses to my cheeks. I turned them all down that year. It’s one thing to pretend to everyone you know. It’s another thing to do it to people who know better. Who know what you’re doing. I didn’t want to pretend in front of their faces. ”

“Speaking of that night. Could you speak on this?”

She sides the picture, the one the paparazzi took of you on the curb before Lana got to you, towards you. You pick it up and look at it - at your eyes pinched shut and your drenched hair.

“It’s simple. Ricky James started liking me. Asked me out. I said no. And then he locked me out in the rain.”

You see the discomfort spread across her face as she slides the picture back.

“I’m very sorry that happened to you. But you came out of it at the top, with your hit featuring Lana Price. Was she part of your support system during that time?”

You smile.

“Yeah.”

“Can’t sleep?”

You look up from the shelves you were currently pawing through to find Lana, rubbing her knuckles into her eyes, as she walks over to where you’re standing.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you. I just wanted water but I couldn't find the glasses.”

She smiles as she wraps her hand around your wrist and leads you to the other side of the kitchen, taking a glass out of the correct cabinet and filling it up for you. You both lean against the counter, illuminated by the fridge of the kitchen light in the dark kitchen.

And suddenly you’re crying again, wet, warm tears falling down the length of your face. At the thought of where you were four nights ago - running in the rain until she picked you up. You aggressively wipe the tears off of your cheeks as she catches on. And Lana, despite this being the second time having met you, is quick to pull you into her arms, the sweet strawberry smell of hers filling your nose.

“You smell like candy.”

“Don’t go biting me now.”

You laugh, pressing against her arms harder as your tears fall onto her shoulder, trying to muffle your sobs by clamping your mouth shut.

“Eren told me. About Colt.”

She pulls back, wiping the tears off your cheek as she talks, softly.

“You’ll get better at doing this. Protecting them. I can almost guarantee it.” she says, giving you a smile.

“How do you know?”

“Because I did it. Which means you can too.” she responds, placing her glass of water in your hands.

“It’s not that simple.”

“Yes, it is. I’ll help you. Eren will help you.” she responds.

“You’re already doing enough for me. Both of you. I’m intruding on your house right now.”

You feel two hands, warm, around your neck, accompanied with a light squeeze. And then Eren, his voice still raspy from sleep, whispering in your ear.

“Y/N.”

“Yeah?” you whisper.

“Say that again and I’ll kill you. What’s mine is yours.” he responds, sliding his hands off of you as he pushes the fridge door closed and opens the light.

Lana groans.

“God. Would it kill you to put a shirt on, ugly?”

“Would it kill you to brush your hair, you hag? Or maybe not wake me up in the middle of the night?”

“That wasn’t even me. Y/N woke up first!”

“It was your croaking that woke me up, Lana. You sound like a toad.” he mutters.

You laugh, which breaks the two of them out of their argument, and has soft smiles spreading across both of their faces.

“You guys are like siblings.”

Lana comes over, hands cupping your face.

“My sweet, sweet Y/N. Please don’t insult me.”

And then Eren’s behind you, arms slithering around your waist, his voice warm in your ear again.

“That’s the meanest thing you’ve ever said to me, princess.”

“Quit flirting, Eren. You’re such a manwhore.” Lana says.

“Princess was her nickname on set, dumbass. Because she’s a pop princess. I’m not flirting.” Eren responds,

“Wow. So you’re too good to flirt with Y/N. You think you’re better than her?”

“What?” Eren asks, leaning off of you.

Catching on to what Lana’s trying to do, you turn around and look at Eren, trying to hide your coy expression.

“Do you really think that, Eren?”

His eyes go wide, hands on your shoulders.

“No! No, oh my god! I don’t think I’m better than you. If anything, you-you’re better than me. I’ll flirt with you all you want. I swear!”

You and Lana stare him down for a few seconds before you burst out laughing, a pink spreading across Eren’s cheek as he grumbles, an irritated look on his face as he shoves past Lana.

“You guys are annoying. I’m going back to bed.”

“Aw, Eren! Come back! Flirt with her!” Lana says, teasing him on.

“Don’t stay down here too, Y/N. You’re going to lose brain cells.” he murmurs, shuffling away.

You turn back to Lana, who's filling your glass with water again. She has a soft smile on her face, eyes warm as she hands you the water.

“This type of stuff…it really helps.” she says.

“This type of stuff?”

“Good people. Who want to take care of you. Make you laugh after you cry, all that cheesy stuff.”

You hum, leaning against the counter again.

“Lean on Eren. Don’t get so jumbled up on what it means and how he’s feeling because he just wants to be there for you.” she says.

“I’m trying to. I guess I just feel bad.”

“I would have benefited a lot from someone like Eren, if I knew him when I was younger. When I was-”

You quirk your head to the side, beckoning for her to elaborate.

“For the longest time, I thought that this is just how guys were. Assholes. Dicks. That it was a matter of finding one who was relatively nice, good enough. That real guys, they’re never like this.”

You frown.

“My dad was an asshole. Ricky was horrible. My brother was the only person who was nice to me but we just- we lived so far and with the jobs and stuff we grew apart. And when I had to deal with things on my own, things I was too young to even understand, I-”

She pauses. Swallowing hard.

“I would have benefitted from knowing Eren earlier. Guys like Eren, like your friends Jean and Marco. Eren’s helped with a lot of my shame and made me better. I-I owe a lot to him really. I know we said what we said earlier, but he is like my brother. He’s always protected me. Overwhelmed me with kindness under insults.”

You smile.

“He’s a good guy. Always has been.” you whisper, heart warm at Eren being Eren, still.

“So let him. Overwhelm you with kindness. Be there for you. You have no reason to be ashamed. And every reason to be scared. Quit feeling bad and just let him. He’s the person you’re comfortable with here.”

You smile, leaning your head against your shoulder.

“Dunno. You’re pretty cool too.”

She laughs.

“Yeah?”

“You know what would be cool. If you guys went to bed.” Eren says, shuffling into the room again.

Lana groans.

“All men have is the audacity. You just ruined a really sweet moment.”

You smile at Eren, which he returns.

“Can Lana sleep with us?”

He stops smiling.

“Huh?”

“You sleep on the left and she can sleep on my right!” you respond.

“Y/N.” he whines.

“Please? It’ll be like a sleepover. I can’t have bad things on my mind before I go to bed if you’re both there.”

“No thanks, sweet girl.” Lana says.

“I’m trying to lean on you guys! Give in.” you respond.

They both groan as they agree, the three of you shuffling towards Eren’s room. You settle straight into the middle of Eren’s bed, as they both shuffle around - loudly talking in Eren’s bathroom.

“Ew, Eren. Why did you just kiss my cheek? I’m not Y/N, idiot.”

“That was for you, Lana Bear!”

“What pervert spirit possessed you at this time of night? And you know how I feel about that nickname after what Hyla said to me at dinner, so shut up.”

“I didn’t mean it like that, Lana. And I just wanted you to know I love you too. You’re like a sister to me.”

You hear Lana smack Eren.

“Were you eavesdropping? Asshole. I was lying. None of it was true.”

“Okay, Lana. Sure thing.”

“I’m serious!”

You shake the memory from your head, as you pull out the picture for her to see, one of you and Lana that Eren took. You’re both on his couch, your hands tangled in the bowl of popcorn - glaring at the camera. Eren was blocking your rewatch of High School Musical.

“Speaking of support systems, one of your most talked about relationships is that with your co-star, Historia Reiss. After seemingly dropping songs about each other and making up and breaking up, there’s a lot of speculation on what happened. Anything to share?”

You smile.

“Historia and I are friends. And friendship is complicated. You just got to witness ours first hand, that’s all. Everything between us - it’s water under the bridge, if there ever even was one. We’re just really similar and we butt heads. We still love each other at the end of the day.” you say.

“Well that’s lovely to hear. How about Ryomen Sukuna? The two of you are all anyone talks about these days, especially after how cozy you two were on the red carpet.”

You snort. And pull out the polaroid - of you and Sukuna, of him kissing your cheek at the awards show. And in the background, Nobara and Maki are pretending to gag.

“We’re not dating. And we won’t ever. We’re just really good friends.”

“Friends kiss each other on red carpets?”

“These ones do!” you respond, smiling.

She laughs, nodding as you tuck the picture back into the box. She swallows hard, rubbing her hands against her palms as she asks her next question. The one you know she’s been itching to ask.

“Look. We’ve talked about your career at great length - all but caught up to the night that you became a triple threat. But there’s one person that we haven’t discussed yet, maybe brought up in passing but haven’t broached. Who I think is relevant.”

You smile.

“Eren.”

“Eren.” she repeats, nodding.

“What do you want to know?”

“I mean, everything. How did it feel to know that you finally got him back for what he did to you, the way he dragged your career through the mud. I mean you basically had him hanging his head between his knees by the end of the night, after you ended him. Throwing his relationship with his brother in his face, the songs you wrote, I mean- that. That has to be liberating. To do all that and come out as a triple threat at the end.”

You can feel the tears spilling down your cheeks as you take your last picture out, one of you and Eren at Levi and Hange’s vow renewal. You’re leaning your head on your palm, looking up at him as he smiles down at you. And you swallow the hiccups as you respond.

“In what world did that night seem liberating to you? Making a joke out of the love I shared with someone? I sobbed my way through the entire last song. Didn’t even make a speech. In what world was that liberating?”

You see the shock spread across her face.

“I just thought-”

You smile.

“Since we were fifteen, all people have done is speculate about me and Eren. Are we dating? Are we in love? Are we real? Are we faking? And therein lies the issue, because I think the people, the fame - it came between something really real.”

She stops, nodding.

“Something real? Are you telling us that Eren Jaeger lied in his interview?”

“I don’t know his truth. Maybe it was fake for him. But I was there too.....And it was real for me.”

You look down at the picture, fiddling with it in your hands.

“I-I’d like to sing my song, if I could. I-I think it’ll help explain how I feel.” you say.

She nods, gesturing to the piano. You sit at the seat, sneaking out the vinyl sleeve from the inside of the bench and pull it out. The album cover is a picture of the cast from season one of Attack on Titan. You and Eren are front and center, smiling at each other instead of the camera, everyone’s heads going in different directions. Jean and Mikasa are looking at something to the left and pointing, Ymir is smiling at Historia who is disgusted at Connie and Sasha plugging their fingers in each other's nose.

“This is my fourth and final studio album, called The Lucky One. And this is my first song on the record, called happiness.”

You brace your hands against the keys, playing the tune into the air as you sing. The feeling sits deep in your chest. Your realization was simple. That Historia’s statement - that your Eren wasn’t the Eren that existed anymore - is true. You just chose to focus on the wrong part of it.

You loved Eren and he made you happy. He burned you down, hurt you in the way that only he knew how, but loved you, made you whole in only the way he could too. There's a deep hurt.

But there was great happiness. It’s why you forgive him. Why you choose to move forward, and hold whatever love you did have close.

Past the blood and bruise Past the curses and cries Beyond the terror in the nightfall Haunted by the look in my eyes That would've loved you for a lifetime Leave it all behind And there is happiness

There is happiness In our history Across our great divide There is a glorious sunrise Dappled with the flickers of light From the dress I wore at midnight Leave it all behind Oh, leave it all behind Leave it all behind And there is happiness

You wipe the tears off of your face as you turn back towards the camera.

“Eren Jaeger is the love of my life. He’s everything you want in the person you want to spend the rest of your life with and more. He’s kind, he’s sensitive, he’s all too willing to understand you. Too willing to meet you where you are, as you are, and look past all the bad parts of you.”

You stifle your sob, the tears pouring out of your eyes. You glance back at the picture of you and Eren at the piano. And the memory sticks out in your head.

“I love you.”

You look over at Eren, his green eyes gentle and heartfelt as he takes your hand and squeezes three times.

“Eren, you-”

“I love you. The three squeezes - that’s what they’ve always meant.” he whispers, his hand warm in yours as me mimics the motion you’ve done a hundred times.

You swallow hard.

“Eren Jaeger is the love in the room. He gives people a chance, even when he shouldn’t. He’s supportive, so incessantly adamant about his belief in you, that you believe in yourself too. He loves hard, he loves soft, and everything in between.”

“He’s the best person I’ve ever met. Until he wasn’t anymore. And I-I don’t know what they did to him. If they pumped him full of drugs, if they told him something about this industry that I’m unaware of, if-if it was something about me. But this Eren Jaeger, so full of love that it was almost spilling out of him, doesn’t exist anymore. He was real. But he’s not like this anymore.”

You swallow hard.

“This career, the way we live in our fishbowl. It-it’s so cruel. You all enjoyed watching me ruin him. You all enjoyed watching him ruin me. You liked that we spent our entire lives loving each other and maybe loved it even more when it came crashing down. It was interesting to speculate on, to talk about. You saw the softest love in us. In him. And then gutted it out of him like he was a fish.”

You take a deep breath.

“And with that, I quit.”

The interviewer sits up, hand on your shoulder at the piano bench as the shock spreads across her face.

“You’re quitting music?”

“I’m quitting all of it. I don’t want anything to do with this. You already got to have him. You don’t get to have me too.”

You give her a smile as you turn to the camera, before walking straight off of the set and into the waiting room outside.

You sit on the bench outside, swinging your legs as you watch the people around you move. They’re all rushing to air the tape, which you expected. And making flash copies of the vinyl you gifted them, getting ready to post them online as the interview goes out.

Figures.

The only person who comes to your side is Leila.

“HI.” you say, cheeks burning from the tears and your eyes swollen.

She hands you the blue box, the one they hid behind the couch at the start, and shakes her head.

You give her a strange look as you open up the box, filled with a large stack of letters. You reach for the one at the top, opening the pages to find Eren’s messy handwriting scribbled on the pages.

Dear The Institute (I don’t know if you’re a person or like someone specific I’m just writing a letter to the address Levi gave me), My name is Eren Jaeger. I’m fifteen, the son of Carla and Grisha Jaeger. I’m going to be in a new show called Attack on TItan. But that’s not why I’m writing to you. I want to tell you about my friend, my best friend. Her name is Y/N L/N. She’s going to be my co-star in the show. You haven’t heard of her yet but I promise you won’t forget her. And I’ll make sure you won’t. Because I’m telling you now, she’s the next big thing. And you’re going to make her a triple threat. I’ll spend this entire time convincing you until you do. But she’s amazing. It won’t take much. You will hear from me again, Eren Jaeger

You pull another page out, opening up the crinkled pages, the block sitting in your throat.

Hi (Can you tell me your name? It feels weird to call you The Institute. Like that’s almost dystopian.) It’s Eren, again. Y/N is going to perform her song, New Year’s Day at the award show tomorrow. It’s her first one and it’s perfect. Like genuinely, who the fuck makes a hit song on the first try? And even after making something great, she’s trying to be better. She doesn’t like to play the piano, but she tries anyway. Every time I try to teach her, she’s hanging on the ends of my words, trying over and over again until she’s satisfied. She works very hard. I’m asking you to not overlook that. See you soon (and when’s your birthday? We’re basically becoming friends at this point.) Eren Jaeger

You flip the pages, again.

Good morning/good afternoon/good evening (covering all my bases, I don’t know where you live), Now, don’t start discrediting what I’m saying as biased because of the rumors. Granted, they are true. I adore Y/N with my entire heart. I love her with every fiber of my being. But that doesn’t discredit any of her work or how I’m vouching for it. Because she truly is amazing. Her new movie is coming out on Saturday and her album on Sunday. Quit being assholes and give her this award already. She deserves it. Really. My deepest apologies (for calling you assholes and for bothering you all these years), Eren Jaeger

And again.

Hi, We broke up. And we don’t really talk much anymore. But the fact that I’m still writing this to you should be proof enough for you to at least CONSIDER her as a triple threat. Like seriously. We aren’t even dating and I’m still raving about her work (because it’s that good). Her new movie comes out soon. She is all things great. The sun, the moon, the stars and everything in between. The light in the dark, every cheesy thing you can think of. Art is a reflection of who you are. And her art has always been the best. For the love of god, give in already, Eren Jaeger.

And the last one, despite being the shortest one, is what hurts the most. Dated for the day after the awards show, what you assume is barely hours after Eren was sobbing during your performance.

Dear The Institute, Thank you for listening. And for making her dream come true. Best, Eren Jaeger

You hold the letters close to your chest as you cry into the box, nearly twenty or thirty pages you still haven’t read. Of Eren, his messy handwriting, and his endless love for you.

His words ring in your mind. They don’t make any sense and none of it does. You didn’t have any faith in me like I did you. Your parents weren’t famous and you had no ins. I have to do something to offset that if you’re my co-star. I’m not lying to you when I’m trying to make you feel better or tell you that you’re great. Maybe Hange and Levi are, but I’m not. I’ve always thought you were great.

You sit up from the bench and walk out the door with the box in your hand. You find Falco and Colt standing on the curb against the car, soft smiles on their faces as they push you into the car. And take you where no one gets to touch you, suck you dry, push you too hard, take what you love most away from you ever again.

Your most haunted memory sticks out to you as you drive away. As you feel the physical weight of this life be left behind on that piano and let him go.

The waves continue to crash, Eren’s hand raking through your fingers as you both look up at the moon, shining above you.

“Y/N.”

“Yes, Eren?”

“Have you ever been skinny dipping?”

You curl your nose in disgust.

“When would I have time to go skinny dipping, Eren? And if I did, you would have known.”

Eren turns on his side, a bright smile on his face.

“Let’s do it.”

“What?”

“Skinny dipping.”

“Eren. Quit being ridiculous.”

He rolls his eyes.

“I just turned twenty-two. Like fifteen minutes ago. I am the pinnacle of seriousness.” he states, putting on his best Erwin-like tone.

“Eren.”

“Come on. It’s like a quintessential experience. We don’t get those - prom, memorizing your crush’s classes and waiting outside them, going on a date in the city. Let’s do this one.”

You nod as you both trudge to the shore, hands locked together as you quickly lose your clothes and run into the water, biting cold against your skin. The Seattle cold does nothing to help, the two of you shivering in each other's arms as you hold each other in the water.

“Ttt-this was a sss-stuppid idea, Er-rren.” you shiver, glaring at him.

“It-it’s ff-un.” he responds.

You groan as he pulls you into his arms, your face flat against his neck as you guys hug in the water. You can feel his heart beating under your ear and you pull back to find him smiling at you, his hair matted against his forehead. You reach forward and push it out of his eyes.

“Thanks.” he whispers.

You nod, giving him a smile. He’s all but grinning at you, the smile on his face so big that it’s throwing you off.

“Eren. What?”

“Nothing. You.”

“Me?”

He nods, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“Just trying to remember this moment. You and me - being real people.”

“You sound like a crazy person.”

“You’re not a pop star. I’m not an actor. You’re Y/N and I’m Eren. We’re skinny dipping. And I love you.”

You turn your head to the side, confused by his sentiment all together.

It makes sense to you now.

Almost a year and a half later and you’re nervously running your sweaty hands against the pleats of your black dress. You half debate walking in, even though you flew all this way. If there’s still a place for you in this townhouse, even though you all but grew up here.

You can hear a loud chatter on the inside, voices talking over each other as you think hard, every regret of yours running through your mind. You wonder if they replaced you already, if your doppelganger is walking around in there.

As always, this is what brings you back to them. All of them. And you hate it. Because as always, they are the only ones who understand. They are the only ones who feel it too.

You’re fish. On the same side of the glass, separated from everyone else.

You supposed that’s what it does to people. That being fish, to some extent, was something everyone related to - not just you and Eren, Mikasa and Jean, everyone else who was famous.

This tears down things that were a resolute fact - bringing you to places you never thought you’d return, to people you didn’t think you would ever need anymore. A fishbowl - separating you from everyone else on one side of the glass, with everyone else - normal and whole - on the outside.

Fame can do that to people. But grief can too.

The news clip rings in your head.

Marco Bodt, best known for his time as a recurring character in the drama series Attack on Titan, died on Friday, five days short of his twenty-fourth birthday.

You brace yourself and knock on the door of the townhouse. Eren’s the one who answers.

next part linked here

an: lol. so does "passed down like folk songs, the love lasts so long" still apply if he's dead....thoughts? also the lucky one tracklist

taglist: @k0z3me @kayleegomez @yihona-san06 @bsenpai @sweetenertea @mykyoon @violetmatcha @rebeccawinters @cutiejg @bokutosthings @bookwrmm @mblrrr @wheredidmycrowngo @somethinginyoureyes7 @chilichopsticks @okaystopwhore @you-always-made-me-blush @itzmeme @firelordazulaaaa @whoami-72 @g-ghostly @intimacywithceline @erensmoodygf @cocomellxn @princess-ackerman @jaegerfiles @cacapeepee @squirrelspoetry @rui-0836 @moonmalice @invisible-mori @sofiasber @bbybeeb @timetobegone @tee4str @ttokki2 @leave-rae-alone @ec3lipsy @officialsimpp @gojojang @yookayyo @lordbugs @multiplefandomthings @iobeyfandoms @camilo-uwu @justanotherkpopstanlo l@mel-star636 @fvckingeetar @ttalgi

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adventuringblind · 8 months

Note

Hello darling🤍 I have a request about Lando x fem!reader, were she is a lawyer for another f1 team (maybe ferrrari), so they had to hide their relationship from the media. So during a race Lando got a P3 and Charles P1, he gets so jealous when see her cheering on Charles’s victory.

But when they come back to the hotel, he was a bit cold towards her, and decide to explain why; sooo she show him how much she is proud of him. *smirk😏*

Sooo I hope you like my ideaaa, I love jealous Lando🥹🥹

Btw, thanks for all your works🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼

The Law of Lando

Genre: angst?, smut, fluff

Summary: Lando is a jealous boy and reader tells him there is no reason to be.

Warnings: jealous Lando, Sexual innuendo

Notes: soooooo not sure if this was the exact idea but I tried and I hope you like it T_T

Masterlist

Being a lawyer for Ferrari is no easy feat. It's even harder when you have to hide a relationship with someone from another team.

Her and Lando fit this perfectly. To perfectly, actually, since it's their exact situation. It's not ideal, but they make it work.

This particular race they are at brings her the most stressful two hours of her life. Her friend, a driver for her team, ends in first. Her lover ends the race in third.

Unfortunately, team obligations come first. She sends Lando a text with her love and congratulations. She tells him she will see him back at the hotel later for post reace celebrations.

It feels like hours until she's dragging her tired bones back to Lando's room. Giving to regard to anyone who might be looking. She was covered up, sure, but she wasn't necessarily being as discreet as normal.

The welcome she gets from Lando is cold and distant. Which is odd, considering he made podium today. She greets him with a big smile and a warm hug. Lando simply shrugs her off and goes back to whatever he was doing before she got there.

She takes off her shoes and jacket. Her Ferrari polo is 1still on her body. Something about it has Lando glaring at her.

"Please tell me what's going on. You're scaring me a little." She says, though the last part is more of a mumble.

Lando sighs and finally looks at her completely. "Maybe - I might be a little jealous."

She searches her brain for what could've made him jealous. Only to find confusion and frustration at not remember what she might have done to cause this.

This time, Lando drags her to bed with him. "I saw you celebrating Charles, and I wanted it to be me."

She nods in understanding. The pieces are falling into place now. "Mm sorry Lan, didn't mean to make you upset."

"No, it's not your fault. I know you have to do team things first. It's just hard not to be jealous when my beautiful girlfriend is celebrating another."

She taps her chin in consideration. "Maybe I can celebrate you now?" She smirks.

"What do you have in mind?" Lando plasters a cheey smile on his face. He definitely knows what she has in mind.

It may not be a winners celebration yet. But when he gets there, you better believe he will be making the whole world jealous with his girl."

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chiriwritesstuff · 2 months

Text

The New Girl in Tinseltown; Chapter 3 - Fake Smile

A Dieter Bravo x Actress! Reader PR Marriage AU

Previous Chapter │ Series Masterlist

Chapter Rating: E (18+, MDNI)

Chapter Summary: It's the weekend after, and it's back to reality for Doll and Dieter. Of course, the public is loving their sudden nuptials, but what about the important people in Doll's inner circle? Will they believe her through her lies? Meanwhile, Dieter will stop at nothing to prove that what they have between the two of them is real...

Chapter Warnings and Tags: (Not So) meet cute, PR Relationships, what happens in Vegas ends up in the headlines, Dieter just does not give a FUCK, Smut lite, a look at the inner workings of Tinseltown and the sleaziness it comes with, Dieter and his fucking paintbrush, A hell of a lot of dirty banter, is that yearning?, mentions of devious deeds by sleazy people in show business, we introduce a few more characters, SLOW BURN WE DONT KNOW IT, this is unhinged, no use of y/n, Someone gets a name reveal, No beta we die like men!

Word Count: 7.3K (it seems like I can just go on and on and on...)

Song Inspo: ‘Fake Smile’ - Ariana Grande

The first time you found yourself in hot water with the media, it was all because of a little misunderstanding.

A stupid one, yes, but in Hollywood, things like simple misunderstandings were paydirt in the world of the paparazzi. What was even more fucked up was the more stupid the situation, the more they ate it up, and the more money they could make from you making a complete ass of yourself.

TMZ News Flash: Up and-coming starlet arrested for assault of a homeless woman, maintains that it was a misunderstanding-

It was a few months into your career, and you found yourself recovering from a harsh casting call that left you feeling defeated. With your cap pulled low and sunglasses shielding your eyes, you dodged the paparazzi lurking outside the building where the audition was being held. Being labeled Hollywood's newest darling had thrust you into the spotlight faster than you could prepare for, and it felt like everyone was just waiting for you to slip up. It was only a matter of time...

“Look, Alex,” you whisper into your phone, pulling your sweater tight around you, and looking at your surroundings nervously. “I’m not going to land every role I audition for, it was just a bad case of nerves… anyway, give Mum and Dad my love, I’m about to head into the next audition-“ you tell your sister, checking your watch as you hurriedly make your way towards your destination a few buildings down. “… I love you, too. Speak soon, alright? Tell Zoe I love her.”

Lost in your thoughts and the frustration of the day, you hurried along the sidewalk, oblivious to the world around you, when, suddenly, you are accosted by a homeless woman, her cup outstretched, her plea for spare change hanging in the air.

"Some change?" she asks, her cup dangerously close to your face. "I'm cold and hungry-"

You reach into your purse, fumbling for some coins. "Here you go," you offer, dropping them into her cup without a second thought.

Instead of the dull thud of the change hitting the bottom of the cup, you're met with the tell-tell sound of a tiny splash, the homeless woman's eyes widening in shock and tiny horror.

"What the fuck, lady?" she screams, looking at her ruined cup of coffee. "Just because I'm out here begging for money doesn't mean you can be an asshole about it!"

"Oh shit, I am so sorry... wait, let me just run to Starbucks and get you a new one-" you stammer, your eyes scanning for the nearest coffee shop. You pull your sunglasses down slightly, squinting as you spot a café on the corner.

The woman tsks at you, her expression shifting as she suddenly recognizes you. "Hey, aren't you that actress from that movie-"

Your heart sinks as you freeze, the knot in your throat tightening. "Uh, yeah, that's me," you admit, feeling the weight of the situation bearing down on you. "I really didn't mean to, I thought the cup was empty-"

"No way!" she exclaims, her voice drawing attention as she gestures wildly. "You're one of those celebs with the paparazzi on your tail, aren't you? Hey, you there!" She points to a man hiding nearby with a camera, catching his attention. "She just dumped her change in my coffee cup!"

"No, please," you whisper urgently to the woman, ducking as the man approaches, camera poised. "I just lost them, please, I can't deal with-"

"Doll! Doll!" he shouts, snapping pictures rapidly as you try to shield yourself. "How'd the audition go? What movie was it for?"

"No comment," you respond curtly, raising your arms to block the shots, the homeless woman's protests growing louder in the background.

"She just tossed her coins in my cup, what a clueless bimbo!" she shouts, gripping your hand and pulling you closer. "Hey, where do you think you're going? You still owe me a coffee!"

"Please, I don't want to make a scene-" You struggle to break free, but in the chaos, your purse swings out, accidentally smacking the woman across the face as you tumble to the ground.

"You bitch!" she screams, clutching her cheek. "Did you see that? She attacked me-"

"No, it was an accident, I swear!" you plead, but your voice is drowned out by the relentless clicks of the cameras.

Later, at the police station on La Cienega.

"Doll," your publicist murmurs as he guides you out the back entrance of the police station, shielding your face from the frenzy of paparazzi. With a protective arm around you, he ushers you into the waiting car, pushing aside the relentless onslaught of cameras.

Once safely inside the Lincoln Continental, you both exhale in relief as Nathan orders the driver to go, the sound of the engine drowning out the chaos outside.

"I warned you about this," Nathan sighs, glancing at his buzzing phone. "I told you things would get crazy after 'Little Star' hit theaters. You can't afford to be careless now. What were you thinking, getting yourself into a situation like that?"

"I don't know, Nate," you sigh, "... maybe I wasn't thinking," you admit, frustration evident in your voice. "How was I supposed to know that trying to do a good deed was going to backfire like this? It's not like I approached her, she took me by surprise!"

"But did you need to assault the poor woman?" he exclaims, his brow raised in disbelief.

You give him a look, crossing your arms across your chest as you gaze outside the car window. 'I apologized, alright? It's not like she's the one suffering from all of this, I missed the audition, only because I thought I was doing her a favor! Fuck!"

Nathan shakes his head, his expression a mixture of concern and exasperation. "Look. I get it, but you're not just anyone anymore, Doll. Every move you make is under a microscope. We need damage control, fast... and maybe some media training while we're at it. It's like trying to tame a fucking feral cat or something-"

You nod, feeling the weight of his words. "Yeah, I know. We'll figure it out. But for now, let's just get out of here."

As the car pulls away from the chaos outside, you sink back into your seat, feeling the exhaustion seeping into your bones. This was just the beginning of a long battle against public scrutiny, and you knew it was going to be a tough fight.

The next time you found yourself in the headlines for a scandal, it was when the tiny part of your mind decided that it was a good idea to get eloped with a man you barely even know.

Present Day. 8a - Meeting with your Publicist (Nathan 'The Shark' Smith)

WhatsApp Message from Dieter: Are you there yet? Doll: Just parked. Sitting in my car outside of the studio. What are you doing up so early? I swear, you sleep like the dead. Dieter: Woke up to a cold bed. Maybe fuck the meeting with the Shark and come home. My cock misses you. I miss you. Dieter: (Sends a picture of said cock, fully erect and the mushroom tip bright red and angry, with Dieter's face in a frown). Doll: I can't keep avoiding him, D. Plus, I have my screen test today. Your cock is just going to have to wait, sorry baby. Dieter: Could you just send me a photo of your tits at least?

"What the fuck were you thinking, Doll?"

You roll your eyes as you flop onto your publicist's couch, crossing your arms around your chest. "Spare me the theatrics, Nathan. What's done is done, there's no point in dwelling in the past-"

"Do you have any idea just how much your little stunt is going to cost you? We were so close to landing Disney, and now I don't know how I'm going to convince them that you haven't lost your goddamn mind!" Nathan's voice reverberates through the room as he rips his glasses off his face.

"You pay me to protect you, to guide you down the right path, and you go and hook up with the first guy who winks at you? At a goddamn In-N-Out?! And let's not even talk about this sham of a marriage-"

"I was drunk, Nathan! I did what a normal person would have done if they drank as much as I did! And marrying Dieter isn't the end of the world! Maybe you need to loosen up a bit!"

"You don't even know him, Doll! This is as close to career suicide as it gets, and I'm not sure I want to try to salvage this mess!"

"Well, I don't know what to tell you. The damage is done! we just have to deal with it," you say defiantly, pulling out your phone.

"Maybe he roofied you or something," he mutters to himself, pacing back and forth. "If you want, we could take a drug test, maybe prove that somehow... he manipulated you into marrying him. Maybe, we could get the police involved, and you won't have to go through with this shit show! "

"There was no manipulation!" you retort, "these things happen all the damn time! how do you think these 24-hour drive-thru wedding chapels survive? I don't see the problem of two consenting adults agreeing to marry each other!"

"Have you seen what the news outlets have been saying about you? Half of them are already calling it a sham, while the other half thinks that you're knocked up!" he throws a stack of newspaper off his desk, the pages fluttering in the air as they land near where you sit.

You reach for the top gossip magazine in the towering stack, and your heart sinks as you're greeted by a blown-up photo of you and Dieter in Marcus's convertible. Both of you have flushed faces, yet there's an undeniable spark of happiness in your eyes.

Hollywood Sweetheart marries Hollywood Lothario Dieter Bravo at a Las Vegas Wedding Chapel after being caught having public sex at popular fast food spot In N Out...

You shake your head at that, tossing it back onto the table, not wanting to think of the implications and emotions behind the photo.

"I don't give a damn about the news outlets!" you snap back, frustration bubbling to the surface. "Let them speculate all they want. I'm not going to let some gossip rags dictate my life."

Nathan sighs heavily, running a hand through his hair in exasperation. "Doll, you're playing with fire here. You're on the verge of ruining your career, and for what? A drunken mistake?"

"It's not just about that," you argue, feeling the weight of the situation bearing down on you. "There's more to it than you realize."

"Then enlighten me," Nathan challenges, his tone softer now, a hint of concern seeping through his frustration. "Help me understand why you're willing to risk everything for someone you barely know."

"It's like he sees through all the bullshit," you murmur to Nathan, a pang of melancholy coloring your words. "While everyone else is busy painting me as this flawless figure, Dieter's the one who looks beyond the facade. He's not afraid to acknowledge the messy, imperfect parts of me, the ones I try to keep hidden."

With a sigh, you retrieve a cigarette from your purse and light it, the smoke swirling around you in the dimly lit room. "He's seen and experienced things most people shy away from, yet he's still unapologetically himself. There's a raw honesty to him that I find... refreshing."

He pauses, choosing his words carefully. "Maybe it's best to give it a few months, let people think it wasn't a mistake, and just..." His voice trails off, the unspoken suggestion hanging in the air.

"Why do you think I'm in this industry? I am good at what I do, and besides... I don't think it would be that hard, pretending to be with him. He's... different, like a completely different person when he's with me. He has this way of making me feel-"

"Objectified? Like a good little slut for daddy?"

"Understood, Nathan," you reply sharply, stubbing the cigarette in the ashtray. "He makes me feel seen," you add with a sigh, a hint of vulnerability seeping into your tone. "Do you think we could wrap this up? I've got a screen test to prepare for."

"You sound like you're smitten with something," he snarks, typing away at his computer. "I don't know what to tell you, Doll," Nathan says, his tone laden with concern. "I just can't see this ending well. Dieter's like a disease, spreading toxicity wherever he goes. It's only a matter of time before he poisons you too."

9a. Trailer.

"Well, well, well. Look what the cat dragged in, Mrs. Dieter Bravo, in the flesh!"

You put on the best fake smile you could muster, pulling your shades off as you enter your trailer, your 'glam squad' already waiting to help you prep for your screen test. "Good morning to you too, ladies," you reply, taking a sip of your coffee. "Shall we get started?"

"That's it, Doll? you're not gonna give us the scoop?" Your hairstylist teases, "You're just going to pretend like you didn't do something so fucking insane like getting hitched in Vegas? To Dieter Bravo of all people? Are we nothing to you?!" she exclaims, taking you by the shoulders as she playfully shoves you onto her chair.

"I don't know what else I could tell you besides that yes, I got married over the weekend, I mean, it was all over TMZ for everyone to see-"

"I have to ask," Sofia chimes in, giving you a sly smile as she looks at you through the mirror, combing your hair back into a low ponytail. "Is he as big as they say he is?"

"You know, a normal person would say congratulations to someone who just got married."

"I mean, why waste time with congratulations when we can get down to the nitty-gritty? The people don't give a shit about the pleasantries, we wanna know about the good stuff. So, Spill: is he packing or not?"

"Sorry, Sof, a lady doesn't fuck and tell," you say with a saccharine smile, rolling your eyes.

"I'm shocked, honestly," your PA slash childhood best friend Daisy muses, typing away on her phone as she settles on the chair next to yours. "I had no idea you were seeing Dieter before this past weekend," she says with a hint of what someone could perceive as suspicion. "I'm glued to your side 24-7. Surely, I would have noticed that you were fucking him. Dieter Bravo isn't known for being subtle."

"Just because I live under a microscope doesn't mean I don't know how to keep things on the down low, Daisy. I can have a relationship and keep it secret from the world, celebrities do it all the time."

"What I don't understand is if you were so hell-bent on keeping your relationship with Dieter under wraps in the first place, why have such a shitshow of a wedding?" Daisy challenges, throwing her phone on the workspace in front of you as she turns to look at you, an unimpressed look on her face. "Something doesn't add up."

"What are you trying to say, Dais?"

"I'm saying, you were seen sucking face with Adam Patterson at Sundance not even two weeks ago, so I think I'm trying to say that you're full of shit," she retorts, her eyes narrowed as she stares you down.

"Excuse me?"

"Don't play dumb, Doll. I know everything about your life, I'm your best friend, for fucks sake! If you were with Dieter Bravo, I would've known. I live right next door to you!"

"Well, maybe I just wanted something that was mine, Daisy. Don't I deserve that?"

She scoffs incredulously. "Does Alex know?"

"Of course Alex knows, she's my sister!" you counter, hoping she doesn't catch the slight waver in your voice, your tell when you're not telling the whole truth.

"BUT I'M YOUR BEST FRIEND! I COME FIRST!"

You're taken aback by Daisy's sudden outburst, Sofia and Poppy exchanging uncomfortable glances as the tension escalates.

"So that's what this is about, then? You're just pissed because you found out like everyone else on TMZ? I'm entitled to privacy, Daisy! I have secrets. I'm sorry I didn't tell you, but a relationship involves two people, and we both agreed to keep it quiet-"

"Oh spare me with that self-righteous bullshit, Doll!" she spits, rising from her seat. "This isn't you! It's like I'm talking to a fucking stranger right now!" She pushes past you as she makes her way out of the trailer. "You can have your secrets, but just remember, I know the ones that COUNT, remember that."

"Dais, come on, I said I'm sorry!" you call out after her, feeling a pang of guilt as she flicks you off and slams the trailer door shut.

"That went well," Sofia observes dryly as she starts working on your hair again. You wince a little as she smooths out the strands, already dreading what might come next.

"Hey Sof, instead of the braid, do you think we could leave my hair down? Maybe add some curls and give it that messy-but-sexy vibe?" you suggest, hoping for a change from the usual routine.

"I mean, yeah, that could look really hot, but Nate told me we were going for a more virginal look-" Sofia begins, her hesitation evident.

"Seriously? My character's supposed to be around my age, not some naive teenager," you argue, feeling exasperated. "Surely she wouldn't still be a virgin."

"You know what? You're right," Sofia concedes, a glint of mischief in her eyes. "Sometimes us girlies just have a tough time finding love, right? That doesn't mean we can't look hot in the process! Wow Doll, look at you, spicing it up a bit! Finally! Should I send my gratitude to your new beau?"

You recall the way Dieter looked at you during the gala, his fingers gently brushing your hair back as he smiled warmly. "I love it when you wear your hair like this," he whispered, pressing a tender kiss to your temple. "It's so sexy, it's more you, you know?"

"Yeah, maybe," you breathe, smiling. "He likes it when my hair is down, but I think I like it, too."

Sofia nods in agreement, smiling at you through the mirror. "I think I like it, too. Look at you," she teases. "Little miss sweetheart, growing up."

Later, after the screen test.

"Are you out of your mind?" Nathan's screams reverberate through the confines of your car, causing you to wince as you pull out of the parking lot. "I specifically told you we were going for a girl-next-door vibe, and you show up looking like a slut?! I swear, the next time I see Dieter Bravo, I'm wringing his neck!"

"I don't see how this is his fault, though. I told Sofie and Poppy about the edits, and they seemed to be on board," you retort defensively. "I have a mind of my own, Nate, no one is influencing me in my decisions, how many times do I have to tell you that?! I'm not some fucking doll you can play with!"

"Well, the Doll I knew before wouldn't be acting like this! It's like you were body snatched or something!"

"I'll have you know, Favreau loved the change, and thought it made sense for the character!"

"I don't give a damn what Favreau thinks!" Nathan snaps, his voice rising in frustration. "You're letting Dieter run your life, and it's ruining your career, Doll. I won't stand by and watch you throw everything away for some fling!"

"I'm hanging up now, Nathan," you declare firmly, your grip tightening on the steering wheel. "I don't need this right now."

Without waiting for a response, you end the call and toss your phone onto the passenger seat. The weight of Nathan's words lingers, but you push them aside, focusing on the road ahead as you navigate through the winding streets back to Dieter's house.

As you navigate the winding roads back to the Hollywood Hills, the argument with Nathan still ringing in your ears, you can feel your frustration mounting. The car ride is tense, the silence heavy with unspoken words.

Nathan's accusations replay in your mind, his anger leaving you feeling both defensive and conflicted. You glance at your reflection in the rearview mirror, taking in your appearance. Your outfit, chosen in haste, suddenly feels like a glaring mistake.

The sight of Dieter's house coming into view offers a small sense of relief. You pull into the driveway, noticing the moving boxes scattered across the lawn. The realization hits you that this is now your home, too.

Stepping out of the car, you're greeted by the chaos of movers bustling about, carrying boxes and furniture into the house. Dieter appears in the doorway, concern etched on his face as he approaches you.

"Hey, what's wrong?" he asks, reaching out to touch your arm gently. "You look upset."

"Nathan," you sigh, shaking your head. "He's convinced that everything is your fault."

Dieter's expression darkens, his jaw tightening. "I'll have a word with him," he mutters, his tone laced with frustration.

You offer him a weak smile, appreciating his support. As you follow him into the house, the weight of the day's events begins to lift. You walk into the massive living room, a far cry from your own modest LA flat in Silver Lake. Your eyes widen as you take in your knickknacks amongst Dieter’s gothic decor, your collection of Sonny Angels and their smiling faces alongside Dieter’s collection of what you think are first editions of every Edgar Allen Poe book imaginable, in pristine condition, you might add. You chuckle at the juxtaposition, two very different personalities coming together that shouldn’t work in theory, but look harmonious together anyway. You can't help but smile at the sight, touched by Dieter's thoughtful gesture. Taking a deep breath to compose yourself, you turn to him, feeling a rush of gratitude and emotion that you can't quite place. "Dieter..."

"Do you like it?" He asks eagerly, wrapping his arms around you in a tight hug. You find yourself sinking into the embrace, comforted by his warmth as he pulls you onto the sofa beside him. "I thought you might need a little sanctuary after your meeting with The Shark," he continues, shooting you a playful look. "Marcus did most of the unpacking, but I pitched in! It's like you've always been here, doesn't it feel like home?" His words touch you deeply, and you can't help but wonder if maybe there's some truth to the idea that you belong here with him, despite the unconventional circumstances of your marriage.

You sink into his embrace, feeling a sense of peace wash over you. "I love it," you confess softly, snuggling closer to him as he strokes your hair. "It's cozy, it's... us." You pause, a hint of uncertainty creeping into your voice. "But what if someone sees through our little charade? What if they start asking questions again?"

"I'm glad you love it," he murmurs, his fingers gently tracing patterns on your back. "And trust me, with this setup, no one will doubt us for a second. It's like our little secret hideaway," he adds with a chuckle. "But hey, if anyone tries to interrogate you again, just send them my way. I'll handle them." He flashes you a reassuring smile, his eyes full of warmth.

"Hopefully it doesn't get to that point, but Nate surely thinks I'm close to killing my career," you say, a touch of worry creeping into your voice.

"So I'm guessing your meeting with Nathan didn't go too well then?"

"Oh, he accused you of drugging me at the gala and threatened to go to the police-" you tease, a small smile playing on your lips. "I'm pretty sure he thinks that I've been body snatched or lobotomized-"

"No, you've made a pact with the devil, and now... it seems he's come to collect," he breathes into your ear, his fingers tracing a tantalizing path down to the waistband of your jeans, sending shivers down your spine as they caress your skin. You gasp as he unbuckles your jeans, sliding your zipper down slowly as his hands make their way to your center.

He hums in appreciation as his fingers graze the edge of your panties, a smirk playing on his lips as he feels how wet you are. "What do you say, Mrs. Bravo? Are you gonna let your husband take care of you?"

"... and just how are you planning to take care of me, D?" you moan as his fingers push your panties aside, squirming as they slowly start to part your folds.

"I can think of a few ways, but there's something specific I had in mind," Dieter says with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"What's that?" you ask, intrigued by his sudden excitement.

"I want to show you something," he announces, springing off the couch and grabbing your hand, pulling you to your feet.

Dieter leads you through the spacious home, his steps purposeful and eager. As you approach what seems to be a nondescript door, he turns to you with a smile that hints at anticipation. With a theatrical flourish, he swings the door open, revealing a room bathed in natural light, filled with the scent of paint and creativity.

"This is my sanctuary," he says softly, his eyes gleaming with pride as he gestures for you to enter.

Your heart flutters with excitement and curiosity as you step into the room. Your eyes widen at the sight before you—a massive canvas dominating one wall, covered in vibrant colors and intricate brushstrokes.

"It's breathtaking," you murmur, unable to tear your gaze away from the masterpiece before you.

Dieter steps beside you, his presence comforting yet electrifying. "I painted it for you," he confesses, his voice barely above a whisper.

You're speechless, your heart pounding with a mixture of awe and gratitude. As you take in the details of the painting—a stunning array of orchids in hues of crimson, violet, and gold—you feel a warmth spreading through you.

"It's... it's incredible," you finally manage to say, your voice filled with emotion.

Dieter's eyes meet yours, his gaze intense yet tender. "I wanted to capture the essence of your beauty, the depth of your spirit," he explains softly. "Every stroke, every color—it's all for you."

Tears prickle at the corners of your eyes as you reach out to touch the canvas, feeling the texture of the paint beneath your fingertips. In that moment, surrounded by the beauty of his creation, you realize just how deeply he sees you, how much he understands.

"I don't know what to say," you whisper, your voice trembling with emotion.

"You don't have to say anything," Dieter replies, his hand finding yours and intertwining your fingers. "Just know that this painting is a reflection of my budding love for you, a testament to the beauty I see in you every day."

"When did you have the time to even paint this? This must have taken months-"

Dieter chuckles softly, a twinkle of amusement in his eyes as he watches your reaction to the painting.

"I've poured my heart and soul into this piece," he admits, his voice tinged with pride. "But it's not quite finished yet."

"What more could you possibly add? It looks perfect to me," you reply, admiring the intricate details of the painting.

"Have you heard of the artist Georgia O'Keeffe?" Dieter asks, a hint of mischief in his eyes. "She had a way of painting flowers up close and personal, in a style that some found suggestive."

"You mean the whole 'vagina flower' controversy?" you chuckle, recalling the scandal. "People always read too much into things. Sometimes a flower is just a flower."

"Yes, but you're more than just a beautiful flower to me," Dieter murmurs as he approaches you from behind, his fingers deftly unbuttoning your shirt one by one.

His touch sends a shiver down your spine as you feel the warmth of his breath against your neck. You lean back into him, feeling his presence enveloping you like a comforting embrace. As your shirt falls to the ground, forgotten, you turn to face him, the intensity of his gaze drawing you in like a moth to a flame.

"Beautiful," he rasps, his hand blindly grabbing a clean paintbrush from his workstation. "What a fucking masterpiece you are, my darling girl."

He rests the paintbrush at the hollow of your neck, his gaze tracing a path down your body as he delicately sweeps it along your clavicle, then down to your sternum. The pressure is just right, sending a shiver down your spine and raising goosebumps across your skin.

"I've painted many things in my life, but never on a canvas as perfect as you," he murmurs, a small smirk playing on his lips as he trails the brush along the curve of your breasts, flicking it teasingly against your nipple.

You let out a soft moan, your head tilting back as his mouth hovers over the sensitive tip. "Dieter," you plead, your eyes locking with his in desperation. "Please, paint me with your tongue."

Meanwhile, at the LAX baggage claim...

"Eddie! Focus!" Alex screams into her phone as she grabs her luggage at the carousel at LAX. "Do you think she would still be at her flat?"

"I would assume that since she's married the bloke, she would be living with him, surely, as her sister you would know this?" he croons, groaning.

"Well, I thought she told me everything, but my obvious shock of her being bloody married should tell you why I'm even in LA in the first place! What if she's gotten into those drugs that this Bravo character is into? Did you hear about that rumor with the ferret?"

"Okay, point taken," Eddie replies, clearing his throat. "Tell me why you felt like it was necessary to book the first flight out of Heathrow for this again? Doesn't Daisy live next door to her flat? Why are you asking me when you could just ask her?"

"Ugh, don't even get me started on that twat," Alex moans, rolling her luggage, walking in circles anxiously. "I seriously think she's a lost cause, just mooching off of my poor sister who is too sweet to know better. Do you know that she pays for her flat? Doll already pays her a good salary, I don't see how she has to also pay for her rent-"

Eddie chuckles. "Is that bitterness I sense, my pearl? She is her best friend, it's not completely out of the ordinary. Besides, it's not like your sister didn't set us up with these sweet digs in the city, London isn't exactly cheap, baby. Don't be an ungrateful cunt, honey. Your ugliness is show-"

"Eddie! For fucks sake, focus!" Your sister cuts her boyfriend off, almost bumping into a family as she tries to navigate her way out of the LAX terminal. She winces as a group of tired eyes glare back at her, shrugging her shoulders and mouthing an apology as she walks past. "How in the hell am I going to find out where this Dieter lives? It's not like I could ask the first person I see if they know where Oscar Winner Dieter Bravo lives-"

"Actually," Eddie chuckles through the phone, "That's not a bad idea, Alex. Maybe you should head downtown and grab one of those 'Maps of the Stars' things and catch a ride on a tour bus. Don't they use those double-decker buses? It'll be like you're back in merry ol' London!"

"Are you fucking serious?"

"Do you have any better ideas?" he deadpans, the sounds of the latest football match blaring on the TV. "You could always give Daisy a ring, I'm sure she would love to chauffeur the princess' sister around Los Angeles like the entitled queen she thinks she is-"

"Oh, Piss off Eddie. I'll talk to you later. Say goodnight to Zoe for me, alright? and don't forget to take the trash out in the morning!"

"I'm not going to tell your fucking dog goodnight, Alex. Just go find your stupid sister, give her a piece of your mind, have her give you some "sorry" money, and then come back home, you know how cranky I get when the laundry piles up-"

"GoodBYE, Eddie." Alex rolls her eyes as she hangs up on her boyfriend of seven years, muttering fucking asshole under her breath as she rifles through her purse for her ciggies. She takes a long drag as she looks out into the sunny sky of Los Angeles, a welcome change to the dreariness of London. She checks her phone once more, a photo of two smiling teenage girls smiling back at her.

She smiles at the memory of the day when the photo was taken, the day of your adoption into her family after what happened before your abrupt removal from your family home. "We're officially sisters, Baby Doll! You're finally free!" Alex exclaims, her arms around your shoulders as you laugh in glee "I'm so grateful for everything, Alex! For you and your family… taking me in after what happened at the chur-" She shakes out of the memory, checking the time. Taking another drag, she presses on your contact and takes a deep breath, the line trilling in her ear.

The person you're trying to reach is unavailable. Please leave a message after the tone-

"Fucking hell, Doll," she groans, shoving her sunglasses onto her face as she turns to the man that is looking at his phone next to her.

"Excuse me, Sir-"

"Those things will kill you, you know," the man replies, not bothering to look up from his screen.

"Haha, yeah, listen- would it be easier to catch a cab, or is there some sort of rail system I could take into the city from here?" she asks, adjusting her tote bag on her shoulder.

"I could tell you, but I honestly don't care to," the man retorts, finally raising his eyes to meet hers. He pockets his phone into his pocket and walks away, shaking his head in annoyance. "Fucking tourists-"

"Oi! Go fuck yourself!" Alex screams back at the man, giving him the bird as he jumps into an Uber. Her eyes widen at the sight of a cherry red double-decker bus, 'Tour of the Stars!' emblazoned off the side of it.

"Holy fuck, Eddie- you're a fucking genius!" she exclaims to herself, hurriedly pulling her luggage to the back of the line of excited tourists. "Who would have thought that bastard could think of something so brilliant?!"

"Do you think we'll get a glimpse of Doll now that she married Dieter Bravo?" a man asks his friend as they wait in line. "Did you see that video of the two of them at the In n Out? her tits looked so massive in his hands!"

"What a lucky bastard, right? I bet she's such a dirty girl under that sweet fucking exterior of hers, what I would do to be able to tap that!" his friend replies, chuckling at himself, smiling like he's said something so fucking profound. "Bravo must live in that sweet pussy of hers, she must taste so fucking sweet, maybe we should go up to his front door and ask to see if he was interested in a gang bang, it's not like he hasn't been caught in one before-"

"Oi!" Alex exclaims, her face red with frustration as she points at the group of men. "Watch your fucking mouth! That's my fucking sister you're talking about!"

"Yeah, and I'm the President of the United States," the man replies, sneering at her. "Doesn't your mommy teach you it's rude to eavesdrop on other people's conversations?" he scoffs, high-fiving his friend. "If she was your sister, why are you in line for 'Tour of the Stars'? I know girls can be crazy, but you're living in la-la-land, lady!"

"Yeah? Well, I wanted to surprise her," Alex retorts, her demeanor growing flustered under the scrutiny of the group of men.

"Well, hate to break it to you, but I don't quite see the resemblance, sweetheart. Maybe if you got some plastic surgery, and I squint my eyes just right, maybe it could happen for you."

As they board the bus, Marty, the tour guide, announces enthusiastically, "Alright folks, buckle up! We're about to embark on a star-studded adventure, touring the homes of Hollywood's elite!"

The men who had been teasing Alex hoot and holler in excitement, egging Marty on with raucous cheers.

"We'll be swinging by Dieter Bravo's estate up in the Hills," Marty continues, adjusting his microphone. "It's one of the hottest properties in town, folks! Who knows, maybe we'll catch a glimpse of the man himself or even his famous wife! They just got married in Las Vegas over the weekend, how exciting, right?"

Alex rolls her eyes at the mention of Doll, already dreading the attention her sister's marriage attracts. But she stays silent, focusing on keeping her composure amid the rowdy crowd.

As the bus winds its way through the glamorous streets of Hollywood, Marty regales the passengers with tales of celebrity scandals and triumphs. An hour into the tour, they finally stop in front of a lavish mansion nestled among the hills.

"This is it, folks! The home of the one and only Dieter Bravo!" Marty announces, his voice filled with excitement.

Alex's heart skips a beat as she recognizes your BMW X4 behind the gates and manicured hedges. With a surge of adrenaline, she jumps to her feet, shouting over the din of the other passengers, "Stop the bus!"

"No can do, lady. Don't want to risk another lawsuit," Marty replies with a chuckle.

"But she's my sister! Please, just for a moment, I need to see her."

But Marty remains firm, his tone unwavering. "I'm sorry, ma'am, I can't make any exceptions. And even if she were your sister, why would you be on this tour bus?"

He glances at Alex skeptically, a furrow forming on his brow. "Seems like we're attracting all sorts of characters today," he muttered under his breath. "Crazier by the minute."

Feeling frustrated and desperate, Alex makes a split-second decision. "Oh, fuck this-" She lunges for the door handle and, without hesitation, jumps out of the bus.

"Hey!" Marty screams, the bus grinding to a halt. "Get back in here!" he yells as she slams onto the hot asphalt.

"No, can't, shant!" she screams back at the bus, "I won't tell it was you if you just drive away, no harm no foul?"

"... good enough for me!" Marty yells back, motioning to the tour bus driver. "onto the next one!"

The group of men who had teased her earlier chuckled. "Good luck finding your 'sister,'" one of them jeered sarcastically as the bus pulled away.

"Fuck, why do I keep putting myself through this?" Alex groans, wincing as she tries to steady herself, her scraped knees and wrists a testament to her rough landing. With determination in her stride, she approaches the gates, her heart pounding in her chest. Surprisingly, she finds them slightly ajar, allowing her to slip through the heavy iron. Wheeling her luggage along, she heads toward what she hopes is the front door and tentatively knocks. "Hello?"

Growing impatient, Alex begins to pound on the door. "Hey, I know you're in there! Open the damn door!" she screams, frustration evident in her voice. As the door suddenly swings open, she's met with the sight of a handsome man, his annoyance matching her own.

Marcus narrowed his eyes at her, his arms crossed over his chest. "Can I help you?"

"Oh—" Alex gasped, clearly flustered and embarrassed. "I'm sorry, Sir," She glanced back at the map, her eyes darting around her surroundings. "I thought this was the residence of Dieter Bravo. I must be mistaken—"

"Listen, lady, are you in need of medical assistance? Do you need me to call the rehab center that you clearly looked like you escaped from?"

"I beg your pardon?" Alex snaps, her frustration evident in her clenched fists as she strides back up to the man in front of her, her patience wearing thin. She takes a deep breath, mentally preparing herself to deal with this arrogant jerk. It's such a shame such a beautiful man like him is such a tool, she thinks to herself through her annoyance.

"Look, I've just had a grueling flight from Heathrow after a massive row with my boyfriend. He can't fathom why I needed to fly thousands of miles to LA to see my sister, who's apparently decided to get married by some Elvis impersonator on a whim. Clearly, she's lost her mind, and I've come all the way here to figure out just what the hell has gotten into her! So, if you're not Doll—"

"You're Doll's sister?" Marcus asks incredulously, his eyes narrowing.

"Yes, I'm Doll's sister. What does it look like?"

Marcus scoffs, his eyes disbelieving as they roam over her figure, his smirk growing wider. "Sure, if you're her sister, then I'm the queen of England."

"What is that supposed to mean, you prick?"

"Listen, don't get me wrong, you are a gorgeous woman, but I don't see the family resemblance."

"She's my adoptive sister, you moron!"

"That's what they all say, sweetheart."

"OH!" Your voice pierces the silence of the mansion, both Alex and Marcus startled by the sudden outburst. "Fuck Dieter, just like THAT!"

"Oh bugger this!" Alex exclaims, pushing Marcus aside as she storms through the mansion. "For fucks sake! Christabella!" she shouts, opening up every door she comes across. "BELLA! WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU?!" She shouts, making her way towards Dieter's studio. "BELLA! I KNOW YOU'RE IN HERE!"

"Hey!" Marcus shouts back at Alex, his composure barely hanging on by a thread. "You can't just enter someone's private property, I could have you arrested!"

"Yeah, well just call my lawyer, then. He is on my sister's payroll, after all!" she sing-songs, making her way up to the door leading to Dieter's studio. "BELLA!" she shouts as she opens the door, gasping at the sudden sight of the both of you stark naked on the floor, with Dieter railing you from behind. You scream at the sudden intrusion, scrambling to cover yourself.

"Dieter," Marcus huffs, "I am so sorry, she just came storming in, saying that shes-"

"Alex!" you squeak, "What are you doing here?"

Dieter looks back at the angry face of your sister, his own expression shifting to confusion. "Who the hell are you?"

"Christa-fuck-abella Martin," Alex seethes, "What on earth has gotten into you?"

"... and who the hell is Christabella?" Dieter asks out loud, rolling himself on the floor in exhaustion.

You grimace as your sister rolls her eyes, throwing Dieter's discarded robe at the both of you. "Please don't tell me you married my sister in that hell hole and you don't even know her real name, mate."

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badasgirlfriend · 8 months

Text

Stolen Hoodie | Bada Lee Social Media Au

pairings: bada lee x shin nari

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a/n: AHHHH LOOK AT THE EDIT (banging my head against the door from excitement bc this is the first edit i got for my work LIKE THIS IS HUGE FOR ME) thank you sooooo much @drkbibi you made my day🤍

As the teacher droned on, Nari was struggling to maintain her patience. She wanted nothing more than to be anywhere else.

"I understand," she replied, her tone neutral and her gaze wandering towards the windows beyond. Even though she dreaded the teacher's presence, she forced herself to be polite.

"No you don't understand miss Shin" the teacher hissed making Nari furrow her brows "She punched a boy"

Nari's anger was beginning to boil over, her patience worn thin. "I'm sure you're not suffering from memory, but I have come here on multiple occasions to address this issue. All you've ever said in response has been the hollow promise that something will be done."

"We looked into this matter-"

"But nothing has happened," she continued, her voice dripping with disdain, "If you really looked did something that boy would've stopped but he didn't, the bullying only got worse"

The teacher thinned her lips "Miss Shin I am a teacher, I know better than you. They're just kids, Hana is being dramatic by a few teasings-"

Nari's brow knit together in frustration, unable to believe the teacher's sheer audacity.

"Are you calling her a liar?" Nari hissed, her voice dripping with venom, "How can you dismiss her concerns so easily? She is only a child, struggling with constant teasing and harassment. Yet you would dismiss these blatant acts of bullying as 'just kids being kids'?"

Nari knew this teacher well. One who brushed off the complaints of a less fortunate student, only to pamper to one of high status. If a child from a wealthy background whined, they'd immediately bow at their feet. But if one without means asked for help? They were ignored. With their suffering and pleas brushed off like a fly.

"I don't care if that boy's family contributes generously to this institution. If my sister is going to face punishment, so is he." Nari spat the words out, staring down the teacher with steely conviction.

The teacher scoffed, "Hana has told me about how you raised her, and," she cleared her throat, "that her father is often 'mean'. However, violence is never the answer. I expect better from you, as she is but a child, whose innocence must be protected and preserved. Whatever happens in your home shall remain private and shall not be allowed to influence her. We do not wish for Hana to be easily influenced or swayed by the dynamics within her household"

Nari's fingers were twitching, struggling to maintain her composure. She wasn't sure if the teacher was suggesting that Hana was learning violence from her father or not, but now it seemed clear that was the case. This teacher knew about the situation at home, and yet she still had the audacity to punish Hana for retaliating against her bully.

Nari chuckled coldly "you little bi-"

"Nini" a soft voice stopped her from showing the teacher her place

Nari's eyes softened as she saw her younger sister standing behind the teacher, her messy pigtails and crooked bow tying her heart in knots. Her bag was over her shoulder, ready to go, and her smile was as charming as ever, as if the situation was nothing more than a passing moment of joy.

"Consider yourself lucky my sister arrived, because this would have ended quite differently otherwise," she threatened, and the teacher widened her eyes in shock.

"But don't worry," Nari continued, "I'll return."

With that, she turned on her heel and grabbed her sister's hand, the two sister's making their way out of the school. Their footsteps echoing through the halls, fading as they left the building, the teacher left speechless in their wake.

Nari stopped and crouched down to be at her sister's level. She gently took her sister's face in her hands, staring into her eyes with understanding.

Nari's expression softened as tears threatened to fall, but she held them back, wanting to remain strong for her sister. She gently caressed Hana's hair in a gesture of affection, trying to comfort her.

"Nini are you mad at me?" Hana asked "He was being mean"

"Of course not," Nari reassured her sister, "Just next time, don't punch him. Come and tell me instead, alright? I'll handle everything."

"Won't you get in trouble for that?" her sister asked, a frown crossing her face. "Every time you help me, dad becomes angry and is mean to you."

Nari's heart ached as she saw her younger sister so worried. She was barely a child herself, her worries and fears too big for her small shoulders to bear. But despite her age, her worries were as real as anyone else's.

"Don't worry about me," Nari whispered, wrapping her arms around Hana in a warm embrace. She pressed a gentle kiss against Hana's temple

"This time will be different, I promise," Nari said, her voice cracking slightly as she fought back tears. "I won't let dad decide what's right and wrong, and you'll always have me on your side. I'll protect you, no matter what."

With that, Nari gently pulled away and looked into Hana's eyes, hoping to reassure her.

A warm smile lit up Hana's face as Nari grabbed her hand and they began to walk. Taking out her phone, Nari checked the time, letting out a curse when she saw that she was really late. She had to send a message to Bada. However, just as she was about to do so, her phone suddenly died.

"Fuck" Nari muttered and turned to Hana "We need to meet up with a friend of mine so I can give her something," Nari told her sister.

But Hana's gaze was elsewhere. When Nari followed her eyes, she saw a familiar man approaching their direction.

Nari felt a sense of familiarity when she saw this man, as if she had seen him before. But her memory was hazy, clouded by her other worries and concerns.

"Hey Nari," the man said, stopping in front of them.

Hana looked at her sister with confusion, and Nari looked back at her with a similar expression.

"Uh, hi?" Nari said, her voice tinged with confusion. "Sorry, who are you?"

The man's smile fell slightly, but he managed to hold it.

"Jake. Jake Sim. Do you remember me?" He asked, and a pang of recognition shot through Nari as the name finally clicked in her head.

"Oh. Right. The Twitter guy," she said, rolling her eyes. "What do you want?"

"My mom works here so I came to drop something for her. I saw you and wanted to say hi" he paused "and ask you something"

"Hana, can you go on over there and sit?" Nari asked, and her sister complied, walking a safe distance away from the two adults' conversation, but not so far away that she couldn't hear them.

"What do you want?" Nari asked Jake, her tone hard and dry. She knew what he was gonna ask, his comments under her tweets told her enough

Jake grinned, placing his hand on his neck. "I sent you a message, but you must not've seen it."

Nari groaned inwardly, this man can't take a hint

"I wanted to ask if you're free this week, do you want to hang out?" He asked, a hopeful glimmer in his eyes "Like on a date"

"Look, I've seen your messages, and I ignored you," she said with a calmness that belied an seething, underlying frustration.

"I've made things perfectly clear by never replying to you. That obviously means I'm not interested. It couldn't be any more evident."

"But that doesn't mean we can't try," he persisted. He was clearly not going to back down

Nari finally had had enough when he grabbed her hand. "Man, back off." She hissed, with mounting annoyance. "I don't even like men. I'm done with this bullshit."

"You don't?" He asked, a hint of confusion in his tone.

"I thought it was obvious," Nari said, rolling her eyes with a heavy sigh.

"Don't let that ruin the fun of anything with me," Jake said with a smile, oblivious to her discomfort.

Nari rolled her eyes again, feeling her anger growing. Enough. She began to walk away, dragging Hana by the hand, and picking up her bag along the way. She was done with his bullshit. She was tired of dealing with such clueless men.

Now all she needed to do was go faster to the place she agreed to meet with Bada, hoping she will still be there

Nerves got to Bada, who kept nervously tapping her feet. This annoyed an elderly woman seated next to her, but Bada didn't seem to mind.

No matter how hard she tried, Bada couldn't stop her mind from drifting back to the brunette with the short hair. She wondered why her heart was beating so fast. Just a week ago, she couldn't even stand the woman. Now everything about her intrigued her.

She checked the time, realizing she was a full 10 minutes late to the meet-up. She quickly sent Nari a message asking for her whereabouts.

Yet, her many messages were no use. Nari still did not reply. As time progressed, Bada grew more and more annoyed. The longer it went, the more she felt hurt. It would have been better to at least receive some sort of text from Nari, letting her know why she had not arrived yet, but Bada had recieved none.

Just as Bada was about to call Tatter, a notification caught her attention. With a click, she opened it, only to be met with a paragraph that left her feeling upset.

She scoffed, after locking her phone. Both of her emotions of hurt and anger were evident. While Bada waited for her for almost an hour, Nari was off, having fun with some man. She was mad, and most importantly she was upset. Bada would not lie to herself. She knew deep inside her that her feelings for Nari had grown more than the slightest bit. So, seeing that post hurt her more than she could have ever imagined.

She felt stupid for thinking that Nari's flirting carried any truth, and that she meant it in some way. In fact, Nari often flirted with many other people, so Bada was naive for thinking that she meant it.

Kicking the rock before her in anger, she rose from her seat and started walking away. The sound of her phone drew her attention. Still annoyed, she decided to see what it was. But, when she saw the message, she froze. Just by a single letter in the contact name, she knew who this was. Yeri, a name she was not expecting to see right now. Her heart sank. She had thought everything was over, but seeing her name on her phone screen made her stomach drop.

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wavypotatochips · 1 year

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Hi cutie! Hope you're doing amazing.

I want to request (if you are accepting requests) something with Sergio where he's too overwhelmed with training and stressed with some business and when reader and him are at it he calls her the wrong name and she doesn't let her explain and it's angsty but at the end she talks with him because she saw how he's not doing well at a match and they fix it and maybe a fluffy ending ❤️ please ❤️

𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐎𝐮𝐭 | 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐨 𝐑𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐬

𝘗𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴: Sergio Ramos x Female Reader

Word Count : 1.8k

𝘈𝘶𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘴 𝘕𝘰𝘵𝘦: I am,! I hope you are as well (: and Thank you so much for requesting!! I Hope you like how I represent your idea ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚!!

(っ◔◡◔)っ ♥ REQUESTS ARE OPEN ♥

As you sit in your apartment, waiting for Sergio to come home from training, you can feel the tension building inside you. You've been arguing a lot lately, and it's starting to take a toll on your relationship. Sergio has been so stressed with his soccer training and his business ventures that he's been snapping at you more than usual.

When he finally comes home, you can tell he's in a bad mood. He's quiet as he takes off his shoes and walks into the living room.

"What's wrong?" you ask, your voice gentle.

"Nothing," he says shortly.

You can feel your frustration building. You know something is bothering him, and you want to help, but he won't talk to you. This is how it has been going for some weeks now.

"Please, Sergio," you say, trying to keep your voice calm. "I can tell something's wrong. Talk to me."

He sighs and runs a hand through his hair. "It's just everything," he says finally. "I'm so overwhelmed with training and trying to manage my business. I feel like I can't keep up with everything."

"I know it's a lot," you say, reaching out to take his hand. "But you don't have to do it all alone. Is there anything I can do for you?..... I'm here for you. We're a team, remember?"

He looks at you, and for a moment, you think he might open up. But then his expression darkens.

"You don't understand," he says, his voice rising. "You don't know what it's like to have all this pressure on you all the time."

Your heart sinks as he lashes out at you. You know he's stressed, but you don't deserve to be treated this way.

"I understand more than you think," you say, your voice shaking with anger. "I may not be a futebol player, but I have my own stresses and pressures to deal with."

He looks at you, his eyes flashing. "Oh, really? What pressures do you have, Jocelyn?"

Hearing him mention the name of a different girl—specifically, his ex—makes your eyes expand and heart drop. With the media continuously comparing you to her, hearing him call you her name felt like a slap in the face.

"Wait Y/N I-I didnt mean to call you Jocelyn, it just accidentally slipped out!" he says quickly, his eyes widening. "It's just-," You leave the living room not wanting to hear his explanation. The damage has already been done. You can't believe he would call you another girl's name, and you can feel the hurt and anger boiling up inside you.

He watches you leave, his face filled with regret. "¡Por favor, no te vayas T/N! ¡Déjame explicarte!"(Please, don't go Y/N! Let me explain!)

Even if you wanted to, you can't listen to him right now. You need to get out of the apartment, to clear your head and figure out what to do next.

As you walk through the streets of Madrid, your mind is filled with conflicting emotions. Sergio has your love, but you can't let him treat you like this. Because of his attitude toward you for weeks, you already knew you were going to leave the house to get away from him at some point. His calling you the name of another female was the cherry on top. You need to stand up for yourself, to show him that you won't tolerate being treated with disrespect. A tiny sigh escapes your lips as you pull your phone from your pocket, deciding that it would be best to spend the next few nights at your best friend's house.

As your best friend answered the phone, you informed her of the situation. You didn't go into great depth, but you did say that you and Sergio had an argument and you needed a day or two to get your thoughts straight. Of course, she said you could come over and she would come get you immediately. Without even wanting to go back to your house to gather some things, you sent her the precise location of where you are right now.You decide to text Sergio even though you didn't want to, telling him that you'll be back in a few days. You then immediately mute the chat so you won't have to hear any notifications from him. Roughly 15 minutes later , your best friend arrives and drives you to her place.

As promised, you stayed at her home for three days while ignoring Sergio's calls and messages. Yet, as the days pass, you start to miss him. You think about all the good times you've shared, the moments of laughter and love. Although you two have been experiencing a rough patch, you don't want to throw everything away.

As the evening progresses, you are reminded that Sergio has a game tonight. While still harboring some resentment toward him as a result of what transpired between you two, you decide to go to his game because you miss him and want to show your support for him.

You know that he's been under a lot of pressure lately, and you shouldn't have let your own frustrations get in the way of being supportive.

~ Later that night ~

You make your way to your seat in the stadium, surrounded by excited fans all cheering for PSG. Your heart swells with pride as you see Sergio take his place on the field. He looks focused and determined, his eyes scanning the crowd until they lock with yours. He sends you a small smile and a nod, and you feel a sense of reassurance wash over you.

The match begins and you're completely absorbed in watching Sergio play. He's one of the best defenders in the world, and it's a thrill to see him in action. But as the match goes on, you start to notice that something seems off. He's not playing with his usual finesse and precision, and his movements are a bit slower than usual. Your heart sinks as you realize that he's not having his best game. You can see the frustration written all over his face, and it's clear that he's not in his best form. You start to worry about what this will mean for him, and for the team.

After the match ends, you wait for Sergio outside the locker room. When he emerges, you can see that he's exhausted and disappointed. He looks up and sees you waiting for him, and his expression softens.

"Hey," you say gently, reaching out to touch his arm. He does not respond, rather he wraps his arms around you and holds you tightly. You don't mind his sweaty body. You hold onto him tightly, not bothering to let go anytime soon.

Sergio lets out a deep sigh and removes himself from you after a few minutes. He opens his mouth to speak but you beat him to it, “Mi amor (my love) I'm so sorry for walking out on you like that…” You say sympathetically, as you have been thinking these past days and feel as if now you fully understand how difficult it must be for him to balance his personal and professional life. "I know you didn't mean to say her name nor be rude to me," you say softly. "I know you've been going through a lot lately."

Sergio looks at you with gratitude and affection. "You shouldnt be the one apologizing, my love, I should be. I've been not treating you the way you deserve to be treated these past few weeks and It took you to leave for me to realize my wrongs, " he says, taking your hand in his. "I should have been more honest with you about what's been going on. I'm just really stressed out with training and the business stuff, and it's been affecting me more than I realized."

You listen attentively as he explains everything that's been weighing on him, and you feel a deep sense of empathy for him. You know that it's not easy to juggle so many responsibilities, and that it takes a toll on even the strongest of people. "Is there anything I can do to help?" you ask, wanting to offer your support in any way you can. Sergio gives you a small smile and pulls you into a hug. "Just being here with me means everything," he whispers. "Thank you for understanding."

You both stand there for a few moments, wrapped in each other's arms, before you finally pull away. "Do you want to talk about it some more?" you ask, wanting to give him the chance to vent.

Sergio nods and you both find a quiet corner of the stadium to sit down and talk. As he shares his worries and frustrations with you, you listen with an open heart and offer words of comfort and encouragement.

By the end of your conversation, you can see the weight lifted off his shoulders. He's still stressed and overwhelmed, but knowing that he has your love and support makes all the difference.

As you make your way out of the stadium, hand in hand, you both feel a renewed sense of closeness and understanding. You nod your head, understanding. "I get it. But you can't keep it all bottled up, Sergio. It's not good for you, for us, or for anyone. You have to talk to me, or someone you trust, about what you're feeling. It's not a weakness to ask for help when you need it. It's the strongest thing you can do."

Sergio looks at you with a mixture of appreciation and sadness. "I know, and I'm sorry. I just...I don't know how to fix it. Everything seems to be piling up and I can't seem to catch a break."

You take his hand and give it a reassuring squeeze. "We'll figure it out together, okay? We'll take it one step at a time, and we'll get through it. But you have to promise me that you'll talk to me when you need to. I can't help you if I don't know what's going on."

Sergio nods, his eyes meeting yours. "I promise. I'll talk to you."

You smile, feeling a sense of relief wash over you. "Good. Now, let's go home and have a nice dinner together. We'll take a break from everything and just enjoy each other's company."

Once at your house, the rest of the night is spent cooking together, sharing stories, and just being present in each other's company. It's a small moment of peace in the midst of chaos, but it's exactly what you both needed.

As the night draws to a close, you cuddle up on the couch together, watching a movie and enjoying each other's warmth.

"I love you," Sergio whispers, his voice barely above a whisper.

"I love you too," you reply, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "And I'm here for you, no matter what."

Sergio pulls you closer, his arms wrapped tightly around you. "Thank you," he murmurs, his voice filled with gratitude.

You both drift off to sleep, wrapped in each other's arms, feeling a sense of peace and comfort that only comes from being with the person you love. And you know that, no matter what challenges lie ahead, you'll face them together.

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rach-amber · 2 months

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With all the chaos going on with you, I’m sending you all my love and support ❤️ I apologize for not being around as much due to personal issues outside of social media, but I think I’m back for now!

Question: what do you think made Rachel intrigued with Chloe and observe her so much? And how long do you think she was watching Chloe before they started talking?

Aw thank you so much! Please don't apologise for that, everyone should have the freedom of choosing where they spend their time :) Sending back love & support as well, hopefully things turn out well at your end 💛

Also once again, hella great questions!!

The 1st question reminds me of this Rachel pov fic that I've been translating, it says:

"At first it was mere curiosity.

Most people put on their good side with purpose, but Chloe does just the opposite; She disguises herself with a bad side, opposing and mocking everything; She puts on a pissed-off expression, as if a smile would make her face rot, when actually she’s purer and kinder than anyone else, plus her personality is more interesting than I had imagined."

I think initially Rachel kinda believed Chloe to be what people speak of her. As principal Well's assistant, perhaps she also knew Chloe's on a scholarship, and that she's failing her subjects and on Well's list of high-risk students. She must've wondered,

"Why would someone on the prestigious Blackwell scholarship be so.. bad ? What happened to her?" (how come she's such a lone wolf now, people said she didn't use to be like this)

We also know Rachel secretly has a side that wants to pursue things that are off-limit/wild/dangerous, and Chloe being the one that stood out to her in this way, quickly became her subject of interest, so she kept and eye out for Chloe from a distance.

"Hey, I notice things! I can't help it." -- it's automatic at that point of her noticing Chloe

Later on, Rachel, by whatever means (like seeing the photo of Bongo the cat in Chloe's locker", started to realise that the notorious Chloe Price might not be who she really is at all. And so with a natural tendency to want to understand & read people, she's intrigued to find out more.

Ofc let's not forget, Chloe's hella good looking to Rachel. Lmao Rachel you stared at those legs a tad too long buddy.

While there's no telling how long exactly she's watched Chloe, there are some clues.

"Really? I see you acting like you're tough all the time in school." -- to Chloe, who claimed to not be an actor.

"That doesn't sound like Chloe Price" (park) - at that point in time (frustrated & on impulse) she's still wanting to think of Chloe as this bad girl to do rebellious/prohibited things with, even though she knows that's just on the surface (but she didn't care at that point)

Rachel's still a "newcomer" to Blackwell, despite being on the school photo. Perhaps she moved to Arcadia like a year ago or less, and had spent a school term along with Chloe already, given her established popularity & recognition from the school itself.

So I don't know, maybe she's been watching Chloe within the time range of two/three weeks to a month and a half?

And as we know, later she saw Chloe also at the Firewalk show, & realised they have similar interests & music taste!

Ah, a picture with crush! Look at how happy Rachel looks in that selfie 😸 & it's not here but notice how when Chloe first bumped into Rachel the latter was like, lemme take a good look at you Chloe Price, then stared at her face for 2 seconds.

Rachel: time to make a move to find how who she really is.

I find it cute that it's also kinda the same for Chloe, who realised that Rachel's more than the surface-level "pop girl with good grades".

So yeah, I sort of rushed through this post a lil bit in the midst of finals/crunch time, but I hope it still answers your question! Til next time, xo.

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ladelinee · 4 months

Text

Authors note: I can't believe I finally finished this part! I struggled with finding inspiration 😫, but I'm happy that you can enjoy it now! If you have any suggestions about what you'd like me to include in future parts, feel free to DM me 🖤 Enjoy!

Word count: 3,7K

Warnings: Negative thoughts, teasing, kissing, touching, +18 language.

“All shook up”

(Part 3)

The air was buzzing with excitement as Elvis prepared for his show backstage. With a soft hum, he sang improvised songs while his stylist meticulously adjusted every sequin and stitch on his jumpsuit. The intricate patterns on the fabric hugged his form, enhancing his stage presence. As the room filled with the murmur of conversations and equipment, Elvis remained poised and cool, ready to electrify the audience with his performance. It was a moment of pure anticipation, and you could feel the energy crackling in the air.

Joe entered the room, panting but trying to appear calm. "Hey E, how are you?" he asked.

Elvis turned around with a smile but sensed that something was off. "Hey Joe, everything alright?" he asked.

Joe hesitated for a moment before delivering the news that Elvis was dreading. "Well, I came to speak to you about this... Priscilla is on her way to see the show. She wants to surprise you."

Elvis's face immediately dropped at the mention of his wife's name. He knew that this could cause some trouble. "What? Ya're kiddin’ me, right?" he asked, trying to downplay its importance, but his nervous laugh betrayed his anxiety.

Joe's expression turned serious as he shook his head, "No, Elvis. She's really coming," he said. "I know we agreed to only have wives on opening and closing shows, and I tried to stop her with that, but she's determined to see you. She wants to make sure you're safe after the earthquake."

Elvis sighed and rubbed his face with his hands, looking irritated. "I know, Joe... I know the deal. Damn it, I didn't keep her in the loop.”

Elvis couldn't help but think about Y/n's beautiful face, which had been a nice break from his usual routine lately.

A staff member suddenly entered and informed Elvis that only 15 minutes were remaining until the start of the show.

Elvis nodded at the staff member. "Alright. I'll be there in a minute. Thank you"

Elvis let out a heavy sigh as he turned back to Joe again. “Ya know what, Joe, I was really hopin' to see y/n tonight. But now, it's lookin' like Cilla might just stay on over. Guess I gotta handle this whole thing right now”

“Hey, have you lost your mind?" Joe exclaimed. "There's no way you or any of the guys can leave now to deal with this, Elvis. The fans are swarming the building, trying to find their seats, and the media is everywhere. It's chaos out there!“

Elvis groaned and shook his head, thinking and walking in circles. "Damn... you're right, Joe.”

Suddenly Elvis walked towards the phone backstage, feeling his heart racing with anticipation. He pressed the dial button and tried to contact y/n's office. He thought that cancelling the date would be the quickest way to find a temporary solution.

"Damn it all…” Elvis let out a frustrated groan as he heard nothing but silence on the other end of the line.

"Mr. Presley, you have 10 minutes left." The staff member announced.

Elvis started feeling anxious and decided to resort to a plan B.

“Hear me, Joe. Hunt down that son-of-a-bitch Red, and instead of him playin' bodyguard tonight, send him for a minute to go and tell the girl this…”

Elvis thought for a moment and finally, with a snap of his fingers, he came up with a message. “Alright, just go on and tell her things got switched around. Tonight I'm dealin' with somethin' else, right at the last minute. Make sure she knows I'll ring her later to explain and I'm real sorry, ya hear?”

Joe nodded in agreement and began to head towards the door when Elvis interrupted him again.

“One last thing, tell Red to be gentle with her, will ya? At times, he's rougher 'n a bull in a china shop” Elvis sighed and ran his hands through his hair.

“Priscilla is getting on your nerves. Am I right?” Joe playfully teased Elvis to lighten the mood.

Joe's voice caught Elvis' attention as he looked up from his thoughts "Ya got no idea how much... I just want this night to be over, damn it" he said.

…“5 minutes, Mr. Presley”…

Elvis's demeanour changed, and he became laser-focused on giving his fans the performance of a lifetime. It was clear that nothing could stop him from delivering his best.

—————————————————————

“Seat 5, row B, on the right – get ready for a night to remember!” I exclaimed with contagious enthusiasm, guiding the last fan to their seat.

The night was so busy that every employee helped with the crowds coming to see Elvis. Time passed quickly, and the more time went by, the more nervous I became. "Only a few more hours until midnight" I whispered while hugging myself inside the furry coat that Elvis had given me.

As I began a daydream, my mind filled with fantasies and exciting scenarios. I wondered if Elvis would want to grab drinks with me, or maybe he would suggest we go to a secret spot. My mind ran wild with imaginations of all sorts.

My hands began to shake, but not from the cold. They were reacting to the sound of the applause and music coming from inside the showroom, a clear sign that Elvis was on stage. I couldn't help but smile to myself, feeling incredibly lucky at the thought of seeing him later. My body was responding to the nervous excitement, and my

smile seemed to light up the whole lobby.

My thoughts completely caught me off guard when I looked towards the front of the lobby and, to my utter surprise, there stood a stunning woman. Her graceful movements, almost like a model, along with the security team that accompanied her, were walking directly towards the entrance of the showroom.

It was Priscilla Presley.

I was so shocked that I couldn't find the right words to respond. I even missed the chance to welcome her myself. Thankfully an employee intervened, and she entered the showroom.

She made me question how on earth I thought I could ever stand a chance with Elvis. At that moment, I felt so small… and I was still wearing the coat that Elvis had given me, probably as a way to compensate me for the inconvenience rather than anything more significant.

As I was still trying to process the situation, a loud voice suddenly drew my attention. I turned to see a tall and red-haired man standing next to me, who I could only assume was Red West.

“Y/n? I have a message from Elvis” He asked. I could sense the weight of his words, especially given that he spoke on behalf of Elvis.

“Yes, it's me. How may I assist you?” I replied professionally. I waited nervously, unsure of what he would say next.

"He can't make it tonight, he is busy dealing with something more important, Have a good night, miss" Red said before rushing to the corridors leading backstage, without a chance for me to even reply.

The sudden change in my status from something special to something insignificant had sent my anxiety levels soaring, and I felt a hundred daggers piercing my stomach. The coat I was wearing began to feel heavier, as all the joy and excitement it was bringing me was suddenly drained away. I had been nothing more than entertainment for Elvis all this time. How stupid I was!

The sound of Elvis's voice filled the air. The lyrics were hitting me hard. The pain was too much to bear, and I knew I had to leave. As I walked away, the words of the song echoed in my mind, and I couldn't help but feel crushed and devastated.

“Do you gaze at your doorstep and picture me there?

Is your heart filled with pain, shall I come back again?

Tell me dear, are you lonesome tonight?”

At 4 pm, a new shift started and I found myself in front of the mirror once again. I applied concealer to hide my dark circles as I had barely slept the night before.

I stepped out of my office and walked over to do the daily check before attending to Elvis and his wife, a thought that made my heart ache.

"Oh la la! My dear friend!" Alex suddenly jumped out from the corner as if he were a tiger on the hunt. "Wow, what are those dark circles? Did your secret admirer make them for you?" he asked with a mischievous smirk as if he were fishing for information.

"I really don't want to get into it. He just cancelled everything, end of story" I said, my voice betrayed a hint of hurt.

I anticipated Alex would show some compassion towards me, but instead, he said:

"Look, I've never seen you like this before. First off, you're a top-notch pro. Let's not let the guard down now. Second..." Alex began sprucing up my hair and tweaking my jacket. "Dress to impress, so he kicks himself for what he's missing. And third... guess who left the hotel this morning?" Alex revealed with a sly grin as if he had the inside scoop on last night's drama.

Without even having a say in the matter, I was instantly swept up in a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. My expression became a mix of confusion and curiosity. Before I had a chance to voice my thoughts, Alex broke in.

"No time to waste!" he declared firmly, noticing that I was puzzled. "Elvis is up and asking for you. Please go! I will take care of the daily check" he assured me with a determined tone, urging me to focus on the immediate priority rather than being distracted by other matters.

"Oh, you really know how to keep the gossip alive, don't you?" I mumbled under my breath, a smile played on my lips as I headed towards the elevator.

Alex just shot me a friendly smile and gave me a wink to cheer me up. I nodded my appreciation and walked into the elevator, heading towards Elvis's penthouse.

“So I got up and walked out in that… hallway

Had my flashlight and my gun in one hand

I looked at that big chandelier hangin’ over the dining room table…

That son-of-a-bitch was shakin’ man, back and forth”

As I opened the door to the penthouse, I could already hear the sound of Elvis's voice coming from within.

When I stepped inside, I found Elvis sitting in an armchair with his back turned, dressed in black. The jumpsuit he had worn for the concert the previous night was on the floor, and the room was a little messy with some beer cans in the living room area.

Elvis continued talking on the phone until he finally noticed my presence. He said a quick goodbye to the person on the other end of the call and turned his focus to me.

He appeared to be quite pleased with the sight of me, though I could see a small glimpse of guilt on his face for having cancelled our plans the previous night. He didn't speak right away, probably awaiting my response.

“Good afternoon” I said smiling. I knew my role. The last thing I wanted to do was make this scenario personal. So, I maintained my professional demeanour, waiting for Elvis to speak first.

“Darlin’. M’sorry for cancelling our plans, last night was not easy, trust me.” Elvis said, regretful.

“It’s fine, Mr. Presley, I understand. I hope you had a nice time during the show with your wife.”

In return, I remained cold, maintaining my distance. It seemed that Elvis was getting anxious as he realized that I had no intention of engaging in any emotional connections with him.

Elvis seemed quite surprised by me calling him by his last name. "Darlin’, call me Elvis." He insisted.

I remained stoic, calmly replying "Fine, Elvis."

Elvis, worried about my answer, stared at the floor and then continued “Listen, Cilla ain't supposed to be showin' up here. Our marriage ain't going well, believe me. We ain't even sharin' the same bed”

I couldn't help but wonder whether what he said was true or just a lie. Although I wished it to be true, it seemed too good to be true. When faced with a challenge, I chose to respond boldly.

"If your marriage isn't going well, why are you still with her? " I asked. "I knew from the very beginning that you considered me as just an entertainment" I continued, letting my bitterness and frustration show.

Elvis got the point straightaway. “The main reason I'm still with her is all 'cause of my little girl, Lisa. She’s everythin’ to me. I… I love comin’ home and seein’ her pretty little face waitin’ for his daddy." Elvis explained while he walked towards me.

He held my chin gently in his hand, and his piercing gaze locked into mine. He stood so close that his towering height made it hard for me to even see the window behind him, casting a shadow with his broad shoulders.

“And…from the moment I saw ya...” he said, his voice low and steady. My heart raced as he continued, “…I felt somethin' special. That's why I argued with your boss to keep ya. Y/n, ya are very special to me, I can't deny it.” He said. My breath caught in my throat as I realized that the feeling was mutual.

"Is that true?" I asked with disbelief. I couldn't believe the words coming from his mouth. As he drew closer, my heart started pumping even harder. His presence made me weak. I was hopelessly drawn to him.

“I’ve never been so honest in my life, darlin’”

As I was still processing the weight of his words, Elvis swiftly reached out and held my face with both hands, bringing me into a deep kiss before I could react.

The kiss was filled with passion and hunger, almost as if we were both finally giving in to what we truly desired. I felt overwhelmed by the suddenness of his action, but I couldn't resist the feeling of attraction and passion I felt for him.

In the closeness we shared, my senses started to heighten. I could feel the warmth of his breath on my cheek and the firm grasp of his large, soft hands on my jaw. The familiar, sweet and musky scent of his fragrance, evoking memories of our first meeting, caused a tremble throughout my body.

One of his hands slowly slid down my back, as if a hissing snake was running over it. His hand stopped at my butt, grabbing it with desire. His movement was so powerful that he almost lifted me off the ground, slamming me against him.

I moaned into his mouth.

Elvis paused and looked me straight in the eye, making me skip a heartbeat. His blue eyes were filled with a mix of desire and affection.

"Goddamit, baby, do that again," he requested, his voice almost breathless with excitement. He looked down and noticed that he was hugging me so tightly that my breasts were pressed against his chest, and he let out a subtle groan of pleasure.

"I think somethin’ is in the way," Elvis said with a sly grin, now looking at my jacket. My face couldn't help but turn red, the blush of shyness and heat filling my body. His looks and his gestures were becoming more and more sensual and teasing.

Elvis gently removed my jacket, letting it fall directly to the floor. Meanwhile, his lips were close to mine and attempting to bite me. I couldn't help but moan softly, as he requested previously, when he grabbed my breasts by surprise before he finally managed to achieve his aim of biting my lip.

“Oh my… “ I added. I was starting to feel a tingling in my core. His warm and big hands grabbing my breasts with a possesive grip made me feel like in heaven.

"Baby, I can stop if ya want me to" He suggested with a cheeky smirk, while his hands moved down to my shirt and slowly unbuttoned it, his focus shifted to my black bra and looked at it with parting lips.

"No, please... keep going" I replied, my voice became more urgent and needy. I needed his touch, his caresses were like a drug to me and I couldn't get enough.

The manly smell and the roughness of his skin after having shaved yesterday were enough for me to notice the wetness of my panties.

I started kissing and licking his neck vigorously as if begging him for more.

"Oh fuck" he moaned under his breath. We both knew what was coming next, as his bulge hardened against my stomach and Elvis' eyes, gleaming with a hunter’s glint, turned hungry as they fixated on my bra. His hands moved swiftly and decisively, grabbing my breasts with urge and pulling my bra down. His gaze was fixed on my breasts and he was making no intention of stopping any time soon.

My breasts were still bouncing from the sudden movement Elvis made when I felt his warm breath and soft lips on one of my nipples, and my whole body began to tremble.

He kissed them softly at first, passing his tongue around, making me grab his black hair, and whine softly. That reaction convinced him to take it to the next level, and he started nibbling, getting them hard and giving me an even more intense pleasure. Right after, he pinched them and rolled between his fingers, making my breathing become heavier.

I started feeling my clit growing slowly and throbbing. I couldn’t help but rub my thighs together. Elvis watched how I was doing it with a naughty and amusing smile that slightly curled his lip “Hhm, There ya go.” He added.

He started playing harder with my nipples, turning them red. I was about to gasp when he grabbed my neck, taking control of my breathing.

I could feel Elvis’ pants tightening around his crotch area, and he started to buck his hips against me in a slow and sensual dry-humped motion. His breathing was heavy, as he was focused entirely on the sensation of my body and the friction he was making.

The mix of Elvis’ lips just inches apart from mine, mixed with the sound of his growls and his breath hitting my face, was overwhelming. The warmth of his hand on my neck, reddened nipples, and the heat caused from his bulge were driving me wild, the pleasure was too intense to handle at once, all while Elvis was enjoying my gestures and keeping his eyes piercing into mine.

I began to caress his bulge, and my eyes widened in surprise when I realized his length and how hard it was. Immediately I pulled his shirt towards me, eager to kiss him. He leaned back and avoided the kiss, laughing softly and teasingly.

“Well, well…look at ya. Miss Prim and Proper’s gone and turned into a little ol’ thing yearnin’ for me. So am I forgiven?" he said, his smile revealed that he was enjoying my attempts to get closer to him, and I couldn't help but feel desperate for more.

"Oh, Elvis...You're so..." I sighed, blushing but at the same time hungry for more.

Elvis removed his hand from my neck, and grabbed my butt once more. “So… what, darlin’?”He asked with husky and teasing voice while his hands started moving down to the edge of my skirt, slowly lifting it up and showing a glimpse of my panties.

Right before I could reply or he had the chance to peek beneath my skirt, a sudden knock at the door halted everything.

“Housekeeping, may I come in, please?” The voice from outside asked.

It seemed someone had noticed Elvis was awake, and sent them in to clean.

As soon as we started hearing the knocking on the door again, Elvis turned his head to look at the door, then at me. And I just froze. "Oh god, no. No, no, no!" I exclaimed in panic, my face turned pale. "They're going to come in anyway, and they'll see me like this"

Elvis laughed softly, leading me to the wardrobe. He said "Don't ya worry, we'll be hidden in here for a while. Come on, let's hide!" He took my wrist and helped me step into the wardrobe. When we were inside, Elvis kept laughing softly as he shut the door. “Well, ain’t this a pattern? We’re always endin’ up in these tight, shadowed spots.” He said.

He positioned himself behind me, my heart was racing. “This is not funny, Elvis,” I whispered while hiding in the wardrobe. I was terrified of being caught and fired.

As the housekeepers opened the door, I peeked out through the gap between the wardrobe doors and saw my jacket on the floor, with my name tag on it.

“Right, Mr. Presley is not here; I want the room impeccable,” a lady in a suit said before leaving the room.

Oh Lord, that was Angelica, Doris’ boss. That housekeeping manager hated me for no apparent reason, and if she catches wind of this, my career will be over.

The employees began cleaning the room, and my heart pumped with fear. “They’re going to see my jacket” I said, worried.

Elvis, standing behind me, grabbed my waist and pulled me closer, covering my mouth with his hand. “Shh…It’s okay, darlin’, ya work for me now. We’ll figure somethin’ out,” he whispered. “By the way… this ain’t over,” he added softly, his voice filled with desire as he finally brought his free hand to the front part of my panties.

The rush of thinking we might get caught, mixed with Elvis's touch, sparked a whole new excitement in me.

Today's shift was shaping up to be a real rollercoaster.

Need to recap? Part 2 here

Part 4

#elvisaaronpresley #elvis #elvis presley #elvis fans #elvis the king #elvis history #70s elvis #elvis the pelvis #elvis x reader #elvis fanfic #elvis x y/n #elvis x you #las vegas nevada

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mbti-notes · 6 months

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Anon wrote: Hi mbti-notes, an INTP here. Lately I have encountered a situation which I couldn’t determine whether it is Ne indulgence and I lose track of my introverted functions or if there are other issues behind the surface. I think it would be better to receive some comment on it and I wish you could help.

I have been concentrating myself on academic results more than I used to, I think it is partly out of the urge to strive for a better future, another part of it is that I feel like I cannot fall behind my classmates as I don’t want to seem incompetent to the people around me. This idea grew stronger after my mother claimed that I would end up being a useless member of society because I didn’t have a “proper” attitude towards my academic results. I could be taking her words too seriously but I keep thinking I should prove her wrong. When there’s a task I could mimic an unhealthy ENTJ unconsciously and temporarily. I become hasty, impatient, judgemental, I overlook details so I can get thing done within the least possible amount of time, shut away the monologue I always have in my mind to focus on what I’m doing, disregard others’ opinion because I think my idea is the best. I read theories that a person could act like their shadow when they are stressful, it seems like what I experienced.

At the same time, I spent a lot of energy on socialising with my classmates. I enjoy it at some point, they are interesting people and I think I should pay more attention to them, but when I got time to reflect alone afterwards, I feel fatigued by all the social interactions. After I returned home, all that I am left with is tiredness and I don’t want to speak with anyone anymore, every single sound I hear could frustrate me even if they are simply words of care. I feel a need for rest, but when I do rest I binge watch repetitive Mary Sue stories that pop up on my social media feeds. I know they do not convey deeper meanings, but I am becoming addicted to these meaningless stories that do not require any true thoughts to process and I could shut down my mind.

I believed I maintained a good work-life balance, and this is a good way of life I should continue, but now as I took advice from my friend and spend time on long novels I could truly enter a flow state within, I think I actually overemphasised on external validation and failed to see what I really needed. Returning to the original question, it seemed like I was escaping reality with unhealthy Ne that keeps me wasting time on unproductive things, exploiting my energy to seek out ‘new’ information that are actually repetitive and superficial, forcing myself to open up Fe even when I actually wanted space for myself; but I am not entirely sure about my statement. Thanks for your time and effort, any insights that could be drawn from it are appreciated.

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

Generally speaking, if you believe you're experiencing Fe grip in part because of misusing Ne, then you ought to develop Ne and learn to use it more appropriately, consult the Type Dev Guide.

It seems you are always being pulled around by things outside you, such as your mother, your friends, or those mary sue stories. What does that mean? Perhaps it means you have little substance and you use those things as a poor substitute. You are like a leaf being blown around by the wind, with no control over where you go.

The remedy to being driven only by extrinsic factors is to nurture intrinsic motivation. Who are you really? What do you really want out of life? What are your values? What do you stand for? What do you have to offer? What about you matters? What greater aspirations or ideals do you commit yourself to? If you can't answer any of these questions, it means you haven't gotten very far in development and, as a result, don't have any meaningful direction or purpose in life. When you have no real identity as a person, how can you be anything but an easy victim of circumstance?

If you want to take more control over life and have a better sense of direction, then start by committing yourself to more meaningful activities, especially activities that would allow you to make the best use of the gifts you've been granted. Yes, there is a difference between "rest" and "escape". You speak as though you have no control over those repetitive activities, but you made the choice to do them, and you're now starting to realize that the "reward" is actually harmful to you. You could choose better activities instead. To realize more of your potential and grow as a person often involves giving up immediate gratification for a greater goal and making tough decisions about how best to spend your time.

#intp #auxiliary ne #si loop #inferior fe #intrinsic motivation #ask

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justagalwhowrites · 12 days

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BESTIEEEEE! UGH!!!!!

I'm not even trying to say I'm sorry for this unhinged mess of words I'm sending you because you brought this to yourself, missy! Halcyon's last chapter! OMG! LIKE OMG! I believe you can be super duper best friends with someone from the sex you're attracted to with no other love above platonic/familiar, but these two, THESE TWO! It's not that they are already a couple. THEY ARE A FAMILY! The only thing missing is the sex, and it's not for lack of desire. How they assume they will deal with future baby Ellie (I'm assuming that if you put Anna in the story, Ellie will come too.) together as a team. How they celebrate Christmas together like it was the most normal thing in the world, how they share the room AND THE BED AND FALL ASLEEP CUDDLING (how many times has already happened for Sarah to be completely chill about it?!?!?!), and the presents, how they give each other such treasured things and Sarah's big Christmas presents comes from the both of them, because they are going to the concert together!

And don't start me on the second part of the chapter! How Joel was already planning to go to her and bring her ice cream, could he be any more perfect? (I'm consciously ignoring the lack of proper dialogue about their big issue right now because he's so darn cute!) and knows Brad will prey on his Goldie and doesn't take a second to call Tommy (I loved how, as soon as Tommy knew about Brad, he was so on board with his brother) so he can go there for her. After all, he's put Goldie through, he's such a slimy bastard! How did he know where Goldie was staying? Unless someone posted on social media. And the KISS! Let's not forget about the kiss and that frustrating cliffhanger. I have so many questions! I didn't think you could get me as invested with this as I'm with Yearling, but you outdid yourself! Thanks for the chapter! It was lovely, even if you made me scream a little bit at the end! Love you!♥️♥️♥️

AHHH HI BESTIE!!!!!!

Soooo agree on the friends thing! These two are just living like a couple without being a couple, they're soooo afraid of crossing that line. They have a lot coming their way, too with... YES! BABY ELLIE! Her mom is Anna, of course, and then her dad's last name is Williams. Ellie is, indeed, on the way. And yes, Joel assumes he's going to be stepping in to help because why wouldn't he? That's his Goldie Girl right there and she's stressed, he's going to do everything he can for her. And yeah, Goldie sleeping over in Joel's room has become a regular occurrence. Sarah thinks nothing of it - though she does kind of think of it like when her girlfriends sleep over. But yeah, totally unfazed lol

JOEL TO THE RESCUE THOUGH!!! I love how he was like "I've gotta bring this girl food I can't trust her to feed herself properly" lmfaooo but yeah, he does NOT trust Brad/Gale with his girl. Because yes, that's HIS GIRL. She's been his girl since they were 15 just neither of them will say it. As far as Brad knowing where Goldie is... they do have the same agent. One who has been established as being fine with fucking with one to increase the success of the other 👀

Of course, now there is that kiss to contend with. We'll just have to see how it shakes out!

Thank you so much for reading! I'm so happy you're enjoying it!

Love you!!!

#send asks #kit answers #halcyon

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pebblysand · 1 year

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Hello Pebbly,

Firstly I wanted to say sorry for the the hate you’ve been receiving lately. I just don’t understand why people would go out of their way to send death threats because they have a different opinion. It would be a different story if they weren’t allowed the option to be anonymous.

Secondly I wanted to ask a question about the new chapter of Castles. It was said Ginny only started her nightmares after Amycus died. Why do you think that is?

Lastly I’d like to say I adore your writing. Fan fiction or not, you truly have a gift and I’m so honoured that I get to read your beautiful stories

aw thank you anon, you're very sweet ❤️. although to be honest, i do think the issue goes beyond having different opinions, here. because the strangest thing is: i agree with these people 🤣. i fundamentally do also believe that trans rights are human rights. but i don't think that a) sending hate to people on the internet who do disagree with that affirmation is the solution to bigotry, and b) completely disengaging from fandom because of JKR's opinions is the way forward.

firstly, i agree. the fact that these people go on anon is evidence itself of the fact that they know what they're doing is idiotic. i understand being angry (i'm a gryffindor and an enneagram type 8, trust me, i really do), but obviously, all this does is relieve these people's urges for violent speech. it doesn't actually help any of the issues. and, that's fine, i guess if they feel better after dropping me these anons, then i'm happy for them. but, i doubt they do. i think a big part of being a gryffindor is learning where to take your outrage, and how to use it in ways that can make the world a better place. or else, the frustration just ends up eating you from the inside. this is not it.

additionally, as @copper-dust pointed out, fanfiction (and fandom in general) is one of the main ways to get the representation of marginalised groups that may be lacking in the source material. telling people to disengage is nonsensical. and, on a personal level, i must admit i don't relate at all with this trend we're seeing online of disengaging with any form of media (be it tv, books, etc.) that we, as a society, deem "problematic." if i had to cut out everyone i disagree with from my entertainment regimen, there wouldn't be much left. i mean... wait until these people find out like eminem, 🤣. it's hard to do more controversial than that.

personally, i think life is much more interesting when you engage with media critically and are able to use your brain to question the things you might see or read. i love eminem when he talks about fame and his daughter. i hate him when he talks about kim. there's a duality there that i find essential to my experience as a human on this planet. it's about understanding people are complicated and mostly exist on a spectrum. to tell you the truth, i don't necessarily believe in the idea of separating the art from the artist, but i do believe in engaging with art while remaining aware of who the artist is. reading things in a more educated and nuanced way.

i also must admit that i find this way of telling people: 'you mustn't read/watch/etc. [x] because the author is problematic' bizarrely moralising, and it gives me the ick. i grew up catholic and i find this attitude of 'i'm better than everyone else because i don't engage with problematic content' strangely reminiscent of saints and sinners. like: i claim the moral high ground. i am the saint. you are the sinner. and, well, good for you, i guess. i find sinning more interesting. i don't strive to be a role model, and i don't strive to live a perfect life. i'm not really keen on curating my experience of the world to the point that i end up living in a sterile echo chamber. that wouldn't be very interesting to write about and also, if we acknowledge the best in people, we must also acknowledge the worst - or else the good loses its gravitas.

by that same token, this also ultimately makes me "kid of fine" with the fact that these anons exist, in a strange way. they're not nice to get, of course, but i suppose they're allowed to disagree with me. i wish they wouldn't send me death threats about it, and it does make me angry that, doing this, they ultimately harm the people they claim to defend, but it is what it is. i don't think it's for me, as a non-elected individual representing no one but myself, to tell people what they should or should not think, and do or should not do. i do believe in the right of governments, through elected democracies, to regulate speech as a collective (the way certain countries have made racist speech or holocaust denial illegal), but i guess that's a different matter altogether. i wish people would get fined for expressing racist, transphobic, homophobic, murderous, hateful, etc. "opinions," but that is sadly not for me to decide.

anyway, apologies for this digression, now onto your question.

It was said Ginny only started her nightmares after Amycus died. Why do you think that is?

i recently re-read this letter from robert and michelle king, the showrunners of the good wife (do not click this link under any circumstance if you have not watched TGW and intend to watch it someday, major spoilers in that letter) where they said:

'We’ve always taken as a guiding principle of this show that drama isn’t in the event; it’s in the aftermath of the event.'

i find this quote incredibly interesting, and it really resonates with me. i suppose as someone who basically 'grew up' (as a writer) on the good wife, it's probably a vision of drama and creative endeavours that has influenced me more than i had realised. after all, i am currently writing about the aftermath of a dramatic event (the war), and to be, that's where the fascinating material is.

i think there's a lot of that in the way ginny's trauma manifests in castles. a reference i also always think of (for castles as a whole, not for this specifically) is series four of peaky blinders where tommy goes on this shootout situation with the italians, manages to come out of it alive and arthur joke-warns him about the fact that he'll get the shakes later, when the adrenaline comes down. i'm interested in that: what it feels like when the shakes come and the adrenaline comes down.

i think for ginny, there's a lot of that: during the war, when she was being assaulted, she was in survival mode. keep your head down, try to survive, do what you have to do, worry about it later. then, she comes out of it and it's like: all that stuff that she's trying to ignore is coming back to haunt her. i actually headcanon that with the chaos of the aftermath of the battle, the press, the way the weasleys were sort of ushered out of hogwarts, having to bury fred, etc. it took her maybe a couple weeks to find out for sure that amycus was dead. i can sort of picture her trying to ask around (people in the order, the DA, etc.) without raising any suspicions and not being able to get a definite answer until the list was confirmed in the press. i think that's when she realises it really is over, you know?

first of all, she realises he is dead, that he won't talk, and that no one will ever find out. she's very worried about her parents, about hurting them, about how other people might see her, about harry - so that's a big relief. and, secondly, she realises that she is free. that he won't come back. and, i think, that is of course a huge weight lifted off her shoulders, but paradoxically it also allows her to let her guard down a little (let the adrenaline come down), and that's when the nightmares come crashing. i think she only get them then because it's the end of war-mode and the start of healing-mode.

anyway anon, thanks again for your kind words, i'm so glad you enjoy my writing, and my apologies for taking advantage of your message to rant about Stuff. i hope you have a wonderful day ❤️

#asked and answered #castles

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randomshyperson · 1 month

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https://www.tumblr.com/randomshyperson/734896904001961984/httpswwwtumblrcomrandomshyperson734623074843?source=share

Hiii, ik it's been a while sorry about that pooks but I watched it, they're so cute, Bobbie is so pretty I'm gay lol, and honestly same I haven't watched all of them bc I mostly watch the wlw seasons sorry not sorry, but Evak season it's just so good also I love how the use social media I think that's one of my favorites things, abt the vilde/Nora season oml actually that was the only one I watched besides the gays, but I genuinely don't like the Nora and other guy relationship it's so icky I'm sorry, and vilde is so cute I'm sorry I forget the name in Spanish I'm so bad with names, also the special clips with Joana that last season ate fr, and I too have beef with skam France 😒 and about the new fic

Ok so maybe I'm a bit dumb, but are we dead on the WandaVision fics, bc most of the time, I like to believe we for some reason, situation, circumstance we just grew apart yk, bc it's too sad to imagine we're actually dead, unless the fic very specifically says so, but, I want to know what you say dear author

-🐜

Oh my god, I love talking about Skam so it's your fault I got carried away and this got long.

YES, Nell Cattrysse (Bobbie) is insanely beautiful, both girls are in fact but that's no surprise because Skam has a talent for finding these supermodels for their roles, I remember seeing the Norwegian version as a teenager and being speechless at how beautiful Noora was. But anyway, I'm glad you liked the seasons!! I love knowing that someone else liked it, because it's my favorite series ever and I don't have any friends who watch it to talk about it. I can't judge you for going for the gays seasons, I think you're absolutely right actually. Time is precious and we must always prioritize queers' narratives. In the Spanish version, I think it was the intention that the couple (Nora and the toxic guy whose I don't remember name) gave us the ick, she would only be with Alejandro (the William of this version) at the end, and I heard something about the directors having decided on the narrative of an abusive relationship for Nora precisely because Norway William was toxic and the relationship was not well worked on. It was a dig at the original, I would say. In the end, none of the straight couples really interest me in almost any version. For me, the best Vilde to date is from NL Skam, she was very sweet and I feel so bad that she never got her own season. Druck's Vilde (Kiki) has the most striking personality and was very shippable with Mia (Noora in this version). MY BABY JOANA I HAVE NOTHING BUT PRAISES ABOUT HER - I can hardly believe she had a happy ending that didn't ignore the difficulties of her illness. And she was so beautiful in the extra scenes, it was so special. And I think we all have problems with Skam France, right? I still can't believe that of all the couples, the sapphics were the ones they separated. It was really frustrating. Good thing fanfics exist.

NOW SPEAKING OF WANDA -

I didn't think of an exact plot for these rewritten scenes; they are just one-shots really. Reader replaces Vision in the story and that's it - In one of them I mention that Reader is on the other side of the world being stitched back together giving the idea that the original was really dead but I didn't really think about any plot. We can pretend that Y/N is a representation of Wanda's love and grief created by the stone as Vision was, it is really the choice of whoever is reading. If I'm ever going to do a series about Wandavison, I'll definitely start from scratch and ignore these ones haha

now this is too long so byee <3

#ask box #🐜#🐜 anon

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thephantomcasebook · 1 year

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When you dislike Olivia Cooke so much as a person (because she “disrespects” you as a fan), why do you keep talking about her? Sorry, but if she annoys you that much just don’t talk about everything you hate about her.

I really liked your blog but now it’s full of negativity and bad vibes. I’m not trying to be disrespectful towards you. But besides the whole negativity about HdtD actors, i like hearing your opinions etc, and i liked that you were even critical about some stuff. But when it’s only negative things, it’s hard enjoying this blog.

Hmm

Fair and true.

I guess my whole thing is kinda two fold.

It's a frustrating feeling to know - with every fiber of your being - what is about to happen to something you've gotten reattached too whether you like or not and wanted to be or not, and know that you're helpless to stop it cause no one who can understands what's about to happen.

It's almost as if I can see it, as if it's happening right in front of me.

Let me tell you, Nonny, what's about to happen.

Amazon is losing money and prestige on "Rings of Power". They know they've been humiliated by HOTD and their studio head just got a hit piece written about her in "The Hollywood Reporter. Trying to save face, and bloody the competition, they'll payoff "Vanity Fair" and other "Journalists" to smear "House of the Dragon" in order to boost "Rings of Power". These trash Journos will use rage bait to knock out the core fanbase of HOTD and turn the audience against one another.

They'll use Olivia Cooke and Emma D'Arcy's activism as a catalyst to do so, knowing that both are too stupid to understand what they'll touch off. When they do press for Season 2, a Journo will ask about Feminism and Patriarchy, and how it relates to today and even fan responses. Cooke and D'Arcy will be lulled by their indifference to the fanbase and show and be hyped up for a chance to virtue signal and will insult and belittle men and fans by claiming fake victimhood in ordinance with their bimbo feminism.

The fans will retaliate ten fold, going hard at the actress on Twitter and Youtube - Conservative and Independent media on social media will excoriate them and it will be a huge Culture War story. Cooke and D'Arcy will double down and lash out. Then, the media that started the whole thing will release dozens of articles saying that HOTD fans are misogynists and Transphobes.

That's when fans will organize and boycott, while Twitter bots and stans defending Cooke and D'Arcy will create a toxic environment that drives normal people away from the show. Youtube heats up with negative videos and take downs of Cooke and D'Arcy that creates animus till a majority of people - former viewers - will actively root for the show to fail. And when the entire show's reputation is in shambles and the fandom tears itself apart. That's when Warner comes in and cancels HOTD.

And why?

Cause the two people who should care the most are too dumb and self-absorbed to see that they're about to be the Typhoid Marys' that will be used to destroy the show and the fandom.

There's something haunting, futile about it, stony in quality - as if it's already happened and we're just waiting for the Stone Burner to go off.

I just find it harder and harder to stay positive about something that I really did enjoy that is built with cracking and crumbling foundations. I've seen Star Wars, Lord of the Rings, and DC Comics - things I loved deeply - ruined by the same type of people that are now in key places of HOTD and I was already burned badly by the way that "Game of Thrones" ended. Believe it or not, I was once on several "Game of Thrones" podcasts and a regular - and sometimes major contributor - to fan media at GOT's height. And I brought that same enthusiasm to HOTD when it was getting good around 1x03.

But lately, I'm seeing a coming repeat of Season 8 of "Game of Thrones" but worst - much worst. Cause at least the actors of "Game of Thrones" actually cared about the fanbase, and cared about the characters they played. I just don't see it that way with this cast. I don't think you'd see Coster-Waldu, Gwendeline Christie, Kit Harrington, or even Emilia Clarke, disparage their character or the fans. They had a passion for the show and their work. Most of these new actors just see HOTD as a stepping stone to something else or an excuse to go drunk-fooling with other cast members.

They're certainly a far cry from the professionalism, class, and charm of the Downton Abbey cast - who I could watch all day.

But, I think you're right Nonny. I've let my growing bitterness of what will most likely be inevitable cloud my ability to see that I've let off a bit of too much steam lately. And while being a cynical person and extremely hardboiled about people and life in general, I should probably reel it back in ... or at least as much as I'm capable of in my old age of 33 years - which is ancient on this site.

Though, to be fair, I have 84 Asks piled up since my birthday in late-December and a lot of them are either hate toward me personally or people as cynical as I am about the show. So, it's not like I'm exactly fielding any positive energy out here.

I'll do my best to reign it in, but I also have asks to answer and I'm gonna be honest as I can be. No bullshit, not ever. So, if people ask, I'm gonna tell them how I feel.

You can either live with that ... or you can't.

#House of the Dragon #Olivia Cooke #Emma D'arcy #Alicent Hightower #Game of Thrones

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cringefaildiaz · 1 year

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Don't get we wrong, I feel hopeful too, specially with the whole network change because it means the series has an actual shot of going back to the way it used to be. I feel like lately the emergencies don't have that spark anymore, so I'm looking forward to see what ABC does with them. Also, let's cross our fingers and think that they'll actually give a damn about promo and they'll use (at least in social media) what attracts more attention... I mean, if the answer is a couple of firefighters that are raising a child together, I wouldn't mind.

However, what makes me mad is that by the time they were working on the finale they weren't sure if they were going to come back or not. From what it looks like, all the characters will get a sort of happiesh?) ending just in case, because again, the ABC move back then was not a sure thing.

They did that with The Resident. Sure, at first it was supposed to be a season finale, but they still did an ending that could be interpreted as both options: season finale or series finale. Well, it was cancelled so at the end they at least got a chance to leave the characters in a good place.

That's what will happen with 911 this season, I believe, because after almost six years the show at least deserved a decent ending if for one reason or the other they were not coming back.

My point is, we know that it's not going to be an open ending, and that all the characters will be left in a good place. I know there are a lot of possibilities, but we are talking about miss Kristen Reidel, it wouldn't surprise me if Buck and Eddie end this season with Natalia and Marisol, representing a "traditional" conclusion for both characters.

It wasn't hard to leave them single, if she truly didn't want Buddie to happen, but she just had to bring two random characters for the last four episodes of the season, right? If I follow her previous patterns, what will happen is that for the general audience, Buck and Eddie will end in "heathy" relationships with Natalia and Marisol, but they will share a significant moment together that's up to interpretation for the internet. Classic queerbaiting behavior me thinks.

I'm aware that now we are far from losing the war, especially if we consider that ABC has a different target audience and that they actually tend to listen to them. So, Buddie truly has a chance of happening now.

At the end, what I'm trying to say is, I feel optimistic for the ABC move, but I'm also frustrated because if that had been the series ending, that woman would have given a poor conclusion to Buck and Eddie just because yolo?) There was no reason to have those two random characters with them.

Buddie has a second chance, but I hope and pray to the universe that ABC will realize what they have in their hands and even if *she stays, they will overule her bad takes, not only on Buddie, but for the show in general, that move was not a cheap one. If they really want for the series to last, changes need to be made.

It's also sad to think that if they had stayed at FOX or if they had cancelled the series, we never really had a chance to win, huh. Homophobia will always prevail, no matter what.

The thing with this, anon, is that mostly I think it's a really fair reading of what's been going on. I just read the information we have really differently.

I definitely agree with you that the emergencies have been meh for a while now, but to me that's just a symptom of being 6 seasons deep into a procedural; a new network might breathe a little more life into it, and I hope it does, but I've never watched a show through a network switch so I'm pretty 🤷🏻‍♀️ on how much it's gonna affect the actual content. Def hoping for more promo though.

I get what you're saying about all the character's getting a "happy-ish" ending because they didn't know about season renewal but....isn't that always how it is? Like, I don't personally see much of a difference between where it seems they're gonna leave off 6x18 than any of the other finales we've had.

And I get why a finale where one or both of the boys are in a relationship with a woman would be disappointing if we're reading it from a "they thought this might be the last episode they were ever making" angle (but I am BEGGING someone to show me what KR has said or done that makes y'all believe she hates buddie. Because I was watching casually through most of s5, I missed all that. And from the show itself, I don't get that impression at all. I am genuinely asking PLEASE i need context). But, while I've always been a buddie girlie, 6b is literally the first time I've ever thought they might actually do it. And I've been really confident since 6x13 and the interview about the couch being in play until the very last scene of the season (and still am) that the closing shot of this season is gonna be the three boys on the Diaz couch. It's just the only thing I see as a possible resolution. Not to say you can't read that as a "open for interpretation" fan service moment, but until I know exactly why people think KR is fundamentally opposed the idea of buddie together, I'm gonna be reading it the way the text tells me to.

Because while I've become a bit of a buddie truther in 6b, they're not in a place where getting together by the end of the season would make....any sense. A lot of people disagreed with me on that, but that's been my stance since like, early s6. Just cuz there was no development for them in the first half of the season at ALL, and we knew how jam packed 6b was gonna be with other plotlines with other characters. They've got a lot of growing to do before buddie canon would even be satisfying imo. I just really believe we might be on that track now.

And with that in mind, here's my perspective on the ending IF they were writing it thinking they might never write another episode again: Buck can and should end up alone at the end of the season. He should really concretely know what he's looking for, in the way he didn't when he dumped Taylor. Having Buck explore the opportunity to date someone who is fascinated by his experiences but not actually interested in him is a great way to do that, imo. Him walking away from that and realizing he needs to find someone who will, in Oliver's words, meet him where he's at. I really cannot see Natalia being relevant beyond the finale at all, and if I'm wrong, I'm gonna start seriously questioning the writers, because they've told us she's not it for him (like, even my friends who watch the show very casually were screaming "NOOOOO!!!" at the screen every time she was mentioned in 6x15).

Eddie's more complicated though. Let's say, hypothetically, they realized midway through shooting 6b that renewal wasn't likely with Fox, and they didn't know whether or not they'd be picked up by another network. Eddie's been on this little journey of self discovery about wanting a partner, and has accepted the fact that he's lonely. Ending the show with Eddie in his single status quo would be sad as hell for the GA! We have to remember, we are not the only ones watching this show, and the vast majority are not seeing buddie as romantic options for each other. That can change, I really hope it does change, I am optimistic that it WILL change; but it hasn't yet. If they were trying to wrap things up nicely, with everyone in a pretty good spot, I can see why shoving relatively-underutilized Eddie with a nice girl would be a good way to do that. Easy to undo if they got a s7, but also a lot easier to convince the GA of a love interest for Eddie being good for him, just because he's not as big of a deal to the show (which I hate. I love Eddie I want him to have the world. But Buck is the main character on this show, let's be real)

That's not to mention that this is all speculation; we don't have any idea what's gonna happen with these two women. I'm standing pretty firm in my belief that they won't end the season in relationships, but I could be wrong. And if I'm wrong about Eddie, I can see why they'd make that choice and I'm not even a little mad at it. If I'm wrong about Buck, and he ends up in a clearly doomed relationship with Natalia, I'm less cool with that, but I can see the opportunities for s7 and assume that they were working under the assumption that they'd get a renewal somewhere. If Buck ends up in a seemingly perfect and happy relationship with Natalia, my faith in the writers is gonna plummet, not because queerbaiting, but because they told us it was doomed in 6x15, and it would make it clear to me that the writers don't even know what kind of stories they want to tell on a micro, episode to episode level. But I really can't imagine that happening.

#anon drop by with your thoughts anytime id love to hear what you think after next ep and the finale too #i don't really wanna touch the word queerbaiting with a 10 ft pole #because i do get the concern #and i get the reaction #but i don’t think its queerbaiting at all #because these two guys are best friends #and theyre each others partner in the main cast of the show #even if theyre both married off to other people we're gonna get the canon couples and also buddie when they divide episodes like that #and thats a really good thing to me? because i love them #and i want them to share screentime no matter who their romantic endgame is #and do i feel like the show is dangling a carrot on a stick in front of me sometimes? yeah #but thats because they're besties and im watching with them with romance goggles on #my real concern is the couch. i am so hyperfixated on the couch that if that resolves poorly i might lose my mind a little #and not even in a 'if its not buddie im gonna be disappointed' way. just in a 'use the metaphor well or so help me god' way #moral of the story is im having more fun with the show now than i have since joining the fandom #and im really confident in the season finale #and i REALLY want someone to drop the KR receipts so i can form an actual opinion on her stance #911 spec #911 spoilers #911 fox #buddie #long post #ask a bean #bean brain

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