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#and you also get to tell directors what to do* which as you can tell by my blog i already do. regardless of if they listen or care
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AITA for saying different stuff to my friend’s face and behind his back?
As you can tell, I’m pretty genuinely worried I screwed up here.
So I (17F) and my friend (17M) both auditioned for the school musical. We both have done every high school show, so we’re very immersed in the theater world. We are seniors and this was our last show. This is just some context—the point of which is that my friend and I both have tons of friends in the theater department, and that’s where a lot of our socialization happens.
My friend was the male lead in the last school musical, so it was likely he’d be the main male lead again this year. However, when I saw what musical we were doing, I actually thought he’d be better as the supporting male lead. Still an ENORMOUS role, but due to his personality, casting type, acting, and tap dancing abilities, that just seemed like the better role for him.
Meanwhile, this other senior guy who had only done one show also was auditioning. Now, he’s also very talented, so in his first show he actually got a pretty big role, but he also proved really difficult to work with during that show and also at the auditions for this new show got so upset he actually stormed out for a while.
However, his acting and singing audition were perfect for the main male lead.
If he was cast as the main male lead and my friend was cast as the supporting lead, our show would have looked SO GOOD.
But after the whole storming out fiasco, I was pretty sure that other guy wasn’t getting a big role at all. But when the cast list came out, my friend was the main lead and this guy was the supporting lead.
Now. I was super happy for my friend. But it was not a good casting choice for him, and since that other role is so big, it doesn’t really punish the other guy for walking out either. So it doesn’t save us the headache of working with the one guy AND puts my friend in a role that isn’t as perfect for him.
But my friend is BELOVED in the cast, and not just by me. He’s practically worshiped by everyone who isn’t his close friend, and his close friends love him for obvious reasons (cause we’re friends). So everyone made a huge deal about how he’s PERFECT for the role, and blah blah blah, and I kinda silently disagreed but I wanted to suppose my friend so I was like “yeah! You totally deserved it! Good for you!”
This other guy though kinda got irrationally angry that he was given the supporting lead (he’s definitely an asshole regardless of whether or not I am) and even quit the show… even though he got a big part. And then he started talking trash about my friend and saying he wasn’t talented?
But when that guy talked to me (weird decision considering everyone knows we’re really close), he said, “my acting was literally so much better for that role. I SHOULD have gotten the role.” And I said, “yeah. My friend really would have been better in the other role. I agree.”
And then he went on to say, “my acting is so much better than his anyway.” And I didn’t straight up agree, but my response was, “well, you know politics plays a huge role in these things.” Which definitely didn’t deny what he said. (And my friend actually is disproportionately benefited by director politics bc he takes private lessons from our choreographer, so I wasn’t WRONG—but I wasn’t being the good friend I should have been either.)
So I sorta feel like I told this other guy, who probably didn’t get the main lead bc of politics/being a nightmare to work with (probably both, tho the second is less likely since he got a big role anyway?) that he was right about my friend, even though my friend really is talented and I never MEANT to imply that he wasn’t. But I think I did.
I’m happy for my friend getting the lead. And I’m not sorry for thinking he would have been better cast in the other role. But…something feels icky about telling him he’s perfect for the role and then telling his rival that he would have been better for the role.
I don’t know. Let me have it if I need it, tumblr. AITA?
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leporellian · 2 years
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it’s so so funny that i ended up going into possibly one of the most obscure theatre Jobs, at least from an outsider’s perspective, because it means when someone asks me about my degree i have to give an entire explanation of what it actually Is. i see people mention dramaturgs ONCE regardless of the conversation at hand and it’s enough to make my day
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pepprs · 2 years
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um LOL ok i just got out of counseling and it was absolutely batshit insane. wtf is going on 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭
#so we only talked for 35 minutes which is like 😐 and we spent most of it talking about either logistics or… like ok so she is VERY stressed#out and in a similar position that i am actually so it was less her counseling me and more both of us commiserating about how this situation#can be so shitty and stressful for the ppl left behind lol. but she was really nice and totally warm and open AND GET THIS she just like.#ASSUMNED that we are going to keep having meetings?????? so maybe i don’t have to spend the whole summer withering LMAOOOO she was like so w#when we meet next time and i was like HUH? i thought this was an emergency!!! but yeah uh no i guess i have a counselor again 😳😳😳😳😳 it was l#like weird and nice and cool it’s just she kept interrupting me before i finished my thought and also like i do kinda wish we had gone the f#full time and gotten to talk more bc i actually like. don’t feel all that better about the grief aspect of this which she said we’ll talk#about next time but it’s like uhhhhh but what do i do if im feeling it now lol. but yeah i will take this over going until September without#counseling and im really glad i met her bc she like already knows who i am and what my situation is LOL and she was telling me her whole lif#life story basically and it was like omg how are you even here rn bc this woman is the interim executive director of the whole place and#doesn’t want to be and she is so stressed out and also just got surgery and had covid and it’s like GIRL i am so sorry im taking your time#this evening 😭😭😭😭😭 but she was really nice about it and im glad we made it work and i feel like i just won the lottery with getting to have#counseling again. still do feel the grief though like I know I’m talking in circles but i need to process this and i don’t know how bc im#suffocatingly sad and i still have a few more hours to burn before i go to bed. lol#purrs
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jytan2018 · 10 months
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I read the comic in one sitting less than an hour after finishing the movie, and wow I have many Thoughts™.
- It's very obvious the two versions were meant to cater to different audiences AND tell different messages. I don't get why people are going "But the comic was better! It had more nuance!" just because Nimona was easier to root for in the movie.
- The comic was written back when ND Stevenson was still trying to process a lot of stuff, so all the characters are morally grey/straight up evil and the climactic battle is between a Ballister who regrets turning against Nimona, even if it was to save others vs. a Nimona who's too hurt to care if her lashing out was going to hurt innocent people.
- By the time Nimona got a movie adaptation, ND was a lot more secure in his sexuality, so the climactic battle was Nimona vs. the Director, the symbol of religious oppression and bigotry. It's not just about your friends turning on you because you're "too much" for them anymore, it's also about a society that would rather bring itself to the brink of ruin than coexist with you.
- (I totally get why people were upset about Ballister's surname change, though. Like come on, the media dubbing him Blackheart just to be mean was RIGHT THERE).
- Nimona's metaphor for not shifting is such a neurodivergent thing. Even in the comic, Nimona's parents insisting she's a monster who replaced their daughter is reminiscent of the changeling myth, which is what many parents thought their neurodivergent kids were—changelings who replaced their "real" children.
- Ambrosius being trained to cut off HIS BOYFRIEND'S WHOLE FUCKING ARM instead of merely disarming him is a very cop thing to do. As much as cops claim they're trained to de-escalate situations, their training still teaches them to treat everyone as a potential threat, and that level of constant vigilance can turn anyone into a trigger-happy/arm-choppy bastard. Even the Director, who can use a sword but probably hasn't actually fought someone in ages, STILL can't see Ballister reaching for the squire's phone without assuming he has a weapon.
- And on that note, the Queen getting killed simply because she was trying to reform the Institution and allow commoners to become knights? That's the best "no such thing as a good cop" metaphor I've seen. Because even if there ARE good cops and they ARE in leadership positions, the system will crush them before they make any meaningful change. It's not a good institution that turned rotten, it's an institution that only exists to spread its rot and refuses to be good.
- That's why Ballister's characterisation is so different in the movie vs. the comic. Comic Ballister had 15 years to come to terms with his trauma and the Institution's evildoing, while Movie Ballister is still freshly traumatised and hasn't found a way to define himself beyond the role he was assigned by the Institution.
- Not to mention Comic Ambrosius was not very noble to begin with and genuinely believed Ballister was better suited to villainy than heroism, while Movie Ambrosius never wanted the glory that came with his lineage in the first place and only antagonised Ballister because of indoctrination he needed to unlearn (which he did, all by himself, after witnessing the lengths the Director will go to just to kill Nimona).
- It really shows how important it is to surround yourself with loved ones who are open to change. Comic Ambrosius can love Ballister all he wants, but he'll still blast his arm off because he thinks Ballister deserved it anyway. Movie Ambrosius will stop to question what "the right thing" even means, even if he didn't love Ballister enough to defend him unconditionally.
I have so many more thoughts bubbling beneath the surface, but I'll probably address them some other day. In conclusion:
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[ID: A pink-haired Nimona grinning evilly while holding up a knife.]
Watch Nimona. This is not a request.
Edit: Added more thoughts!
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Okay time for the PBS Kids essay
Read it under the cut!
:readmore:
In 1968, before there was PBS Kids proper, there was Mr. Roger’s Neighborhood. While it came several decades before the children’s block, it laid the foundation for the themes and values present in every facet of the network’s history.
Mr. Roger famously hated children’s programming at the time. To him, it all was droll and useless. But he didn’t dissuade the medium entirely— he saw potential. Potential that led to a few smaller television jobs, and eventually the creation of Mr. Roger’s neighborhood.
Rogers didn’t invent educational TV for children, but he did perfect it. He poured real heart and soul into probably the most sincere, heartfelt program in history.
Honestly, he could have his own essay. The more things you learn about the real man of Mr. Rogers, the more you’ll like him.
Anyway, the biggest thing that makes PBS different is the fact that it earns money through grants, fundraisers, and private donors— not through sponsorships and merchandise sales. This way, PBS Kids can push programming that it feels is important, rather than programming that merely sells well.
This also means PBS is less afraid of pushing social boundaries. Money doesn’t go away when their shows become subjects of debate— and Mr. Rogers took full advantage of this.
For context, this was 1969. The Jim Crow era had just barely, barely ended. Pool segregation was still very much legal.
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Mr. Rogers sharing a pool and a towel with the Black Mr. Clemmons was a pretty big deal at the time— especially on a show made for children.
Rogers was far from the untouchable sacred cow of today. When he was alive, he had a large number of detractors. Let’s just say that scene didn’t fly nicely by everyone.
Just one year after the debut of Mr. Roger’s came Sesame Street.
While Mr. Roger’s was made for all children, Sesame Street had the explicit goal of supplementing the education of underserved communities— especially inner-city Black (and later Latino) children.
While it was made to be accessible to children of all races and income levels, they definitely went the extra mile to make it something special for inner-city Black and Brown kids. (Why do you think it it’s “Sesame Street” and not “Sesame Cul-de-Sac”?)
At the time, a wholesome, sweet show set in a brownstone street was practically unheard of.
Jon Stone, the casting director, deliberately sought to make the cast as rich with color as he possibly could, bringing on a huge amount of Black talent such as Loretta Long, Matt Robinson, and Kevin Clash, as well as featuring Black celebrities as guest stars. Later, the show would expand its horizons, bringing on actors from Latino, Asian, Native American, and many more backgrounds.
White actors were and still are a minority on show.
In addition to letters and numbers, the purpose of Sesame Street is clear: make kids of color know that they’re smart, beautiful, and loved.
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It doesn’t get more explicit than this.
I want to point out this comment because it’s funny
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You’re telling me this bitch isn’t Hispanic???
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Anyway, these two were followed up by Reading Rainbow in 1983. And guess what?
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That’s right. Non-white focus.
These three shows, (along with other, lesser-known programs like Lamb-Chops Play Along, Newton’s Apple, and Shining Times Station (who featured Ringo Starr himself?? seriously how did that happen and why does no one talk about it) and some other nostalgic favorites like Bill Nye the Science guy, The Magic Schoolbus, Arthur, and Thomas the Tank Engine) aired on the new PTV block, which evolved into PBS Kids in 1999, bringing along Between the Lions, Dragon Tales, and many more.
Arthur is another stand-out that I’d like to talk about— it doesn’t have the same racial focus of Sesame Street, but it does focus on different income levels. The characters have various housing situations, from apartments to mansions to no home at all.
It also takes cues from Sesame Street and Mr. Roger’s in regards to talking about tough topics, though as Arthur has a slightly older target audience, it discusses things through stories rather than talking directly to the audience.
Cancer, religion, workplace discrimination, along with current (at the time) events such as 9/11 and Hurricane Katrina are all discussed on the show.
Another big focus on Arthur is disability. For once, they don’t stick a character in a wheelchair and then pretend he’s not in a wheelchair. A striking number of major characters either develop or get diagnosed with physical disabilities and/or neurodivergences, such as asthma, severe food allergies, and dyslexia, and they deal with them in very realistic ways.
A handful of minor characters have more obvious disabilities, and THANK GOD they go beyond the trite messaging of “disabled people can do everything abled people can do! everyone clap now!”
One episode in particular has the awesome message of “holy shit stop trying to help me all the time— it’s patronizing as fuck. I can get around just fine without you stepping on eggshells and trying to be the hero all the fucking time”
There are sooo many other shows I could talk about, but I can’t write about them all. I’m definitely gonna point out some more standout ones, though.
Sagwa, the Chinese Siamese Cat
Created by Chinese-American woman Amy Tang
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Dragonfly TV
Features a multitude of female and non-white scientists to foster an interest in science with kids in those groups
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Maya & Miguel
One of the network’s first Hispanic-led shows
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SciGirls
I shouldn’t have to explain what the goal of this one was.
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Molly of Denali
When was the last time you saw a show that treated Native Americans as people? Much less a children’s show? 90% of the cast is Athabascan, and the show revolves around Athabascan culture, not shying away from topics like boarding schools and modern-day racism. Most of the writers are also Athabascan, and the show even has an official Gwich’in dub!
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It’s this commitment to real, authentic social justice that makes PBS Kids so much different from its competitors. Could you imagine the Paw Patrol dog looking at the camera and earnestly discussing what happened to George Floyd? I don’t think so— but Arthur talked specifically about it, Sesame Street did an hour long special about race in general, and the network itself made a 30 minute special.
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Disney Jr. could never. (Other than trying to teach colorblindness, of course.)
I’m gonna have to cut this into two parts, since I just hit the image limit
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catboyieejeno · 4 months
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mark lee + domestic
♫ play love it by dean...
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waking up on a late morning besides mark who, in his sleep, is subconsciously pressing his soft, pouted lips against your neck or shoulder, nose nuzzling into your warmed skin. he still hasn't woken up, which you realize when those same pouty lips part to let out a series of long and calm exhales. he rolls a little closer to you until minutes later, he eventually blinks his puffy eyelids open, smacking his mouth a few times like a baby does when first stirring awake.
it's too soon to wish you a good morning—he doesn't truly trust his voice to not betray him yet; instead, when your eyes meet for the first time today, the corner of his lips instinctively curve up into a dazed smile, and the hand that rests on your hip gives your flesh a little squeeze in a silent but sweet greeting.
cooking any meal consists of you moving around the kitchen as you gather and assemble your ingredients. meanwhile, mark follows you around, curiously and eagerly. he resembles a puppy trailing behind you. also has a habit of resting his chin on your head or shoulder to watch what you're doing; that, or he's leaning against the nearest structure whenever you linger for too long in a specific area. you're by the sink? he's bent over, resting his weight on his elbows to talk to you. you're at the stove? his hip is pressed into the counter and his arms are crossed, watching intently how you prepare the food.
after, he'll gladly do the dishes (since he isn't much help with the cooking part). the sole condition he insists on is that you have to sit on the countertop beside him and keep him company 'til he's done. he also gets to steal a kiss whenever he pleases, molding his lips over yours for a few seconds too long. he laughs when you scold him for getting distracted or wasting water, then mumbles his apology into your mouth, "m'sorry, baby! s'just hard to focus when you're here, sitting pretty for me,"
chores are usually left for the weekend, where the two of you take turns picking songs and adding them to a never-ending queue to get through the tasks at hand. the two of you are rather good at getting things done quickly, but the moment you plant a kiss on mark's cheek as you pass by, consider your work done for the day, regardless of whether you've finished or not.
you don't make it farther than a foot away before mark has dropped the rag he's holding in order to grab ahold of your waist. he dips his head down and kisses your lips so messily, longingly even, since the last kiss you gave him was not sufficient by any means. then again, he can never really get enough of you. mere moments later, you're pressed up against the wall with each of his hands at your hip bones, the tasks at hand long forgotten as his tongue eagerly explores your mouth.
its easy to get distracted with him, by him. grocery runs tend to be at least an hour longer than they really need to, because despite the fact that you've made a list of 5 simple items, the two of you navigate every aisle anyway and leave with a dozen other things. browsing for shows or movies turns into a conversation about actors and directors and soundtracks, and you never actually get around to picking something. if you do, the content is left unattended by you and mark, who giggle and mutter out jokes between the dialogue to get a smile out of the other, blazing touches left behind on warm skin.
you're undoubtedly his favorite person in the entire world—the one he looks forward to seeing at the start and end of each day, and the one he always tells good news to first. bad news, too. crashes through the front door and drops everything to bid you a warm hello as he rambles on about his day, or comes in and curls up next to you on the couch and expresses his recent frustrations. regardless of whether you give advice or just listen, your presence is soothing enough.
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undreaming-fanfiction · 4 months
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I am massively busy with work and finalizing my Big Bang, but this idea just won't leave...
Steve and Eddie are both actors. They're in their mid thirties, well established, but they never starred together in anything. Steve tends to be cast in the same type, the dumb but pretty love interest, Eddie has lots of indie and disturbing movies under his belt. But this time, they both landed something big.
They get cast in the new Batman movie.
Steve is, of course, Batman. He insists on doing his own stunts. He refuses to get dehydrated for his shirtless scenes because he knows how damaging it is to both young men and women alike, he's not going to contribute to shitty expectations. The director (Dustin, duh!) sees something in him other directors never have - a potential for depth, for internal turmoil. He gives Steve the chance to prove himself as an actor and Steve pounces on it.
He's still very hot.
Eddie is cast as the Joker. He is a fan of the comics and scoffs at how absurd and deranged the character is becoming. He gets hired because he immediately says he doesn't think the character needs to rely on cheap tricks and shock value to be terrifying. Cutting off his face? Not cool. He suggests to play the Joker according to one of the older comics he has - one where the Joker is actually absolutely sane, but hides it to never be held accountable for his actions. The only person who ever saw through his ruse was Dr. Harleen Quinzel. Joker took care of that issue very quickly.
The chemistry between Steve and Eddie on screen is insane. They go toe to toe, it's impossible to look away when they interact. Eddie utilizes his bright smile to the maximum, tweaking it just right within moments so it becomes unsettling. The first time he laughs, Steve gets goosebumps.
Steve encompasses Bruce's loneliness so well Eddie's heart breaks for him. Dustin finds him in the trailer, giving himself gentle slaps over the face and muttering "you're evil, damn it, you don't want to comfort the Bat!!".
Batgirl (Robin) and Harley Quinn (Chrissy) find their slow descent into love hilarious. They all become good friends on the set.
Hopper, an acting veteran who plays Commissioner Gordon, grasps Steve's shoulder after an intense fight scene and mutters: "Good job, Steve, but maybe don't stare at his lips so much?"
Robin doesn't give him the same courtesy and once Dustin yells "Cut!", she screeches: "NOW KISS!"
The movie is a hit. People love the cast and the story, some of the OG fans complain as they always do, but the ratings are great, there are many interviews, panels, all of that.
And of course, there's gossip about Steve and Eddie being a thing, which enrages the macho Batman fanbase. Their Batman isn't gay!
But the rumors quickly disappear after an award ceremony where Eddie is nominated for the best supporting actor. He wins, of course. And as he gets up to accept the small statue and deliver a speech with enough "fuck"s to give the censor a headache, he drags Steve up and kisses him in front of the whole world.
A week later, Steve and Eddie are together in front of a camera again, answering questions in an interview.
The host asks: "What do you say to those fans that are disappointed, who say that their Batman isn't gay?"
Steve just snorts, pulls Eddie closer and answers: "They're right. Their Batman isn't gay. But he's definitely bi."
Also the comic story I'm mentioning exits and is short but fantastic. 10/10 recommend.
Oh also. The first spark happens when Steve sees Eddie's hair and blurts out: "Please tell me they're not making you cut it shorter. It's too gorgeous for that."
Also because people were asking about the comics - it's Batman Black and White - Case Study and it can be found on Tumblr HERE
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pshaven · 3 months
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LITTLE BIT OF AFFECTION 박성훈 ᥫ᭡
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pairing sunghoon x fem!reader
synopsis as your manager, sunghoon has to ensure all your needs are met and that you’re performing at your absolute best. but when your ex turns out to be the director of your newest project, you’re not doing your best. it’s his job to guarantee that this never happens again. (ib the manhwa, muse on fame!)
cw smut (mdni), coworkers(??) to lovers, vulnerability, beomgyu hits on reader, heeseung as reader’s ex, jealous!sunghoon, service top!sunghoon, BIG DICK SUNGHOON, sunghoon tells reader to boss him around (spoiler, she doesn’t), no protection (pls don’t do this), creampie, dirty talk, reassurance, cunnilingus, pnv, sunghoon pussy drunk, feelings are not being discussed, (small) aftercare, lmk if there’s anything i missed!!
wc 5.7k+
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Sunghoon has one job– making sure that you are doing your job.
At your beck and call, he’s always there for you since you started to blow up in the acting industry. He was assigned to you by your agency, and you don’t have any complaints about him. You’ve heard stories of actors and actresses wanting to constantly change their managers and assistants, but Sunghoon has yet to give you a reason to doubt his skills.
He ensures that you’re on time for everything, which is step one of getting in the good books of movie producers and directors. You’ve only grown more with him by your side, and you feel like if he isn’t there for you, you would’ve gone into bollywood.
And you definitely would not be here, right now, on the red carpet with him standing securely behind you as paparazzi take photos of you. Your eyes squint slightly at the bright flashes, never really getting used to the swarm of camera clicks being shoved in your face even after years of experience.
Sunghoon notices your discomfort, and he speeds up his walk to catch up to your side as he brings his arm in front of your face to shield you from the paparazzi. “That’s enough. Thank you guys for your time,” He says, ever so stoic and cold as he bows stiffly before linking your arm with his, leading you inside the awards venue.
Staying with Sunghoon for so long has its perks. He easily picks up your facial or body expressions, knowing when you’re uncomfortable or satisfied with something. You don’t have to voice a single thing with him, if you really didn’t want to. He already knows everything. He knows what you need, what you want.
You like to think that people are jealous of you. Not because of your skills, your talent, or popularity in the acting industry, but of your Sunghoon. You think you got extremely lucky with him. He’s just your manager, but he’s much more than that.
He likes to cook for you, especially after that one night where you randomly said you enjoyed home cooked meals rather than eating out. He drives you everywhere and would drop whatever he’s doing in a millisecond just to take you to the mall. That being said, he’s also your stylist almost. He has shockingly good taste, knows what material or color you like or dislike. You always go with his picks rather than your actual stylist.
So of course, tonight, you’re wearing what he picked out for you. Which undoubtedly, leads to many other actors and actresses staring and it only makes you more confident about yourself, and the man by your side.
You’re aware of the ongoing rumors, albeit not aired to the public, so it’s only being spread to other actors in the industry. The rumors of you and your manager dating. How absurd, how unprofessional! Sunghoon is here for you and your work, only. It’s his job to make sure his actress is doing well and getting everything she wants, no?
This is why you think people are jealous of your Sunghoon. You like to pretend like you’re parading your beloved manager around other actors and actresses since he’s just so amazing– the manager that everyone can only wish for, and you have him in the palm of your hand.
“Ahem… excuse me?”
You turn your head around, looking past Sunghoon’s broad figure. Beomgyu stands there, shifting his weight from foot to foot nervously as he plays with the rings that adorn his fingers. You silently gasp– Beomgyu is incredibly well known, way more than you are (in your humble opinion).
“Yes? Hello,” You smile politely as Sunghoon steps to the side a bit, looking anywhere but at you and Beomgyu conversing. Not that it makes any difference, he’s going to be listening closely anyway. He doesn’t need to look at your body language to know when you want to get away.
“Sorry to bother. Just wanted to introduce myself, I loved you in ‘I Found You’. I’m Beomgyu,” he introduces himself, extending his hand out to you.
Your smile widens at the compliment as you shake hands with him, “Thanks so much! It was my first romance movie, so it was a bit difficult but I’m glad you enjoyed watching it. I love all your works as well… you didn’t even need to introduce yourself to me.” You laugh a little.
Beomgyu chuckles as well. “Ah, well just in case. Don’t wanna seem like an asshole if I don’t. Plus my movies aren’t really to everyone's taste, I stick to a very specific genre…” he trails off as he begins to ponder in thought, “...but I would be willing to try out a romance movie with you.”
You’re caught off guard, your eyes widening subtly and you’re unsure on how to reply. No doubt he’s attractive, but you’re still in your early years and still rising in the charts. Going on dates is forbidden in your contract for now.
But you have your trusty manager, Sunghoon, who clears his throat before leaning down to whisper in your ear. “Let’s go?” He whispers so closely, you can feel his lips barely touching the shell of your ear. A shiver runs down your spine before you nod softly, taking his arm that he offers to you.
“It was nice to meet you. We have to be going to our seats now,” Sunghoon speaks for you so that you don’t have to directly answer Beomgyu's innuendo. He leads you down the aisle of seats, leaving Beomgyu alone at the top.
“Good morning, Y/n,” Sunghoon greets you as you come out of your bedroom, hair still a mess and eyes barely adjusting to the bright sun. “You have a new project.” He points to the folder on your kitchen island, and you groggily make your way to pick it up.
You flip through it, barely paying attention to much other than the title since all the script words looked jumbled up. You place it back down on the countertop as you sit down across from where Sunghoon stands.
“Interested?” He asks you, placing a plate in front of you that has a (too) healthy looking avocado toast and two strips of bacon. You frown at the plate, but you don’t complain as you take the fork to take a bite of the bacon. Sunghoon chuckles at this before turning around and placing another plate next to your sad avocado toast. You happily grin at the new plate of waffles and strawberries, thanking him profusely.
You take a bite of the waffle before answering him. “Sure, I guess,” You shrug your shoulders, too busy with your delicious breakfast to even take note of the plot, directors, producers, the, you know, important stuff.
“Alright, then eat up. I will be back later, I need to take care of some things. Call me if you need anything, alright?” He grabs his coat and keys, but slows down when he sees you look up at him from your meal.
“Where are you going?”
“To the office. I got called in earlier, but wanted to stop by to make you breakfast before I went,” He informs you with a shrug before giving you a (tiny) reassuring smile, wishing you a goodbye. “I’ll be back before you know it.”
A few weeks have passed, which means that it’s time for you to start production of your new project. You’ve read the script and everything, and it was… very interesting. You’re not the main lead or anything, but you play the second leading role. You’ve never been a fan of love triangles or anything of that sort, but after a good read-through and analysis, the writer seems to make this one more interesting.
So you’re intrigued, flipping through the script once more as Sunghoon drives you to the filming location. He looks over at you for a second, “Already memorized some lines, huh?” He’s half joking– you’ve got some weird knack for memorizing lines and improvising, and it’s one of the reasons why you’re such a sought out actress nowadays. Improvisation makes it more natural and interesting, and you get consumed into your roles very easily which makes it easy for you to improvise on the spot.
You huff out a laugh, closing the folder and setting it aside. “Only like, five.”
Sunghoon pulls up to the filming location– a pretty, wide and open lake. You walk up to the set, Sunghoon following closely behind but you suddenly stop in your tracks. He nearly collides into you if it weren’t for his eyes catching your sudden halt.
“Is everything alright?” He asks, concerns beginning to raise as he follows where your eyes are trained on. He has a bit of trouble trying to follow what you’re looking at, but your eyes begin to squint and your nose also scrunch up slightly. Your signs of discomfort.
He places a comforting hand on the small of your back, and most of the time it does the trick.
But this time, it didn't.
“Y/n? Look at me,” Sunghoon says, voice still even and stern but he’s worried as overthinking thoughts begin to flood into his brain.
Your brows furrow and the corner of your lips curve into a slight frown. You’re still not paying attention to Sunghoon, and he’s not having any of it. He needs to know why you’re like this, and he won’t just wait for you.
He grabs your chin, turning your head away from whatever you were looking at. “You okay?” He asks softly now, after seeing your eyes glossy, like you’re about to cry. Never in his years of being your manager has he seen you like this. You look vulnerable, with your wide and wet eyes looking up at him with your brows knitted together.
He wants to eat you up.
“Director…” You mumble out as your jaw clenches. Now he understands– you’re not sad. You’re angry. And for some reason, you’re angry at the director.
He turns his attention to the director that’s grabbing a cup of coffee from (presumably) his secretary’s hand. For the first time, Sunghoon doesn’t understand. He doesn’t know why you’re so upset and angry at the director. As your manager, he always does background checks on whoever you’re working with. He always makes sure you’re working with well-respected actors, producers, and directors. Did he miss something? Impossible.
One look at you makes him want to take you back home.
But as your manager, it’s his job to ensure that you do yours. And in this case, it is to act.
His eyes harden as he squeezes your shoulder softly. “What’s wrong with the director?”
He’s your manager. You need to tell him the truth if you want him to help you.
“My ex.”
It’s like Sunghoon just got slapped across the face. Of course! He feels like a fucking idiot. It’s his job to know your relationships, even before you got into acting. He needs to know for situations like this, but it’s too late now. You’ve already signed a contract to act in this movie, and there’s no backing out.
He breathes out a hefty sigh. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know,” Sunghoon apologizes, but you shake your head before looking back up at him. And like that, your eyes are dry and your face is stoic. This is what he likes about you. You’re professional– you won’t let ex’s affect your acting, even if it’s just for a moment of weakness.
“It’s okay. You didn’t know,” You mumble. You take a deep breath before walking closer to the set, catching the attention of staff, and the director.
“Y/n?” Heeseung gets up from his director’s seat, going up to you with a perfect, pearly white smile. You feel sick inside as he engulfs you in a warm hug that you sometimes miss whenever you’re alone in your bed at night.
“Hi… Heeseung,” You greet, keeping the hug short and sweet as you pull away and step back, your backside meeting Sunghoon’s chest in solidarity.
“It’s really nice to see you again, after all these years,” He begins the small talk, and you bite your bottom lip to refrain from any peak of weakness showing through. “I’m glad our wish is coming true, now. You remember? You, starring in one of my movies, that I’ll direct.”
You feel Sunghoon stiffening up at Heeseung’s words.
That silly promise. That stupid, insignificant promise that you and Heeseung made when the two of you were still dating. When the two of you were still trying to find the path to become a part of the movie industry. What a waste of time.
Five years ago, you wouldn’t believe that you and Heeseung broke up. There was one point in time where it was just you and him, no one else. You had no one to depend on, he had no one to depend on. The two of you just found one another, and it was comfortable.
Unfortunately, you didn’t see a future with him. Therefore, a lot of crying and begging of please, take me back! Give me another chance! were being said that night.
Sunghoon clears his throat to capture the attention of the both of you. “I think Y/n needs to go get her hair and makeup done, now,” He speaks in his usual monotone voice, except this time there’s no ‘pleased to meet you’, or ‘nice talking to you’ this time.
He leads you away from Heeseung, into your trailer where the stylists begin to work on you.
“Does he make you uncomfortable?” Sunghoon asks as the hair stylist begins to work on your hair, your makeup already done. He knows he doesn’t really have to ask this question, but he wants your verbal answer this time.
“No.”
A white lie, both you and Sunghoon know it, but neither of you acknowledge your fib.
He nods, getting up from his seat on the spare chair beside you. “Do you want me to grab you anything? Coffee, snacks…? I think there’s a bakery nearby or something. I can see if they have your favorite, strawberry croissant?”
What your answer would usually be a yes please!, you shake your head as you purse your lips into a thin line.
“No. Please stay.”
And so he does. He stays with you throughout the entire shoot, not keeping his eye off you. Even during breaks and scene cuts, he’s by your side in a second before Heeseung can even get a word in with you. The day ends slower than you would wish for, but the producer yells that’s a wrap!, and you’re booking it into your designated trailer.
You pack up quickly with the help of Sunghoon before the two of you make your way into his car. But of course, you’re not exactly the luckiest person in the world today it seems like.
“Y/n! Hey, can I talk to you for a second?” Heeseung calls for you, lightly jogging up to catch up to you and Sunghoon.
Sunghoon gives you a look that asks if you want him to make a lame excuse that you have to go and can’t spare any time for Heeseung, but you give your manager a slight smile and a reassuring nod.
You can’t avoid Heeseung forever, especially since you know this project will take at least three months to finish. You should at least get the closure you didn’t get five years ago.
“Hi, Y/n. You’re hard to catch up with,” Heeseung chuckles lightly, rubbing the nape of his neck, a nervous habit of his that you know all too well.
You smile at him, returning a small laugh. “Ah, sorry. Just wanted to go home and take a nice shower, but what’s up?”
“I just wanted to say, um…” Heeseung struggles with his words, biting the inside of his cheek, “I hope we can work well together. Once again, I’m really happy that you're on this project with me. I requested you personally…”
Your smile drops, but you’re quick to pick it back up, but it’s a weak smile. “Thank you, Heeseung. It’s really nice to see you again, after all these years.” You’re quick to dismiss his heartful words.
“Y/n, I’ve, uhm– I really miss you.”
“Y/n. It’s getting late. Are you ready to go?” Once again, Sunghoon is your savior.
You turn your head to Sunghoon by your side, and you nod. “See you on Tuesday, Heeseung,” You bid him farewell, plainfully ignoring his words as you climb into the passenger seat of the car.
Sunghoon shuts the door behind you, turning his attention to Heeseung. He walks up to the latter, and Heeseung subconsciously takes a small step back.
“You shouldn’t say things like that. You’re both here on a project. A job. Keep it professional, for Y/n’s sake, yeah?” Sunghoon icily says, not waiting for Heeseung’s response before he leaves to get into the driver's seat of the car.
He pulls out of the parking lot quickly, and you turn your head to your manager. “What did you say to him? And don’t lie that you didn’t say anything. I saw your mouth moving!”
Sunghoon merely shrugs his shoulders, keeping an arm on the steering wheel and his other on the console. “I told him to keep things professional. I heard what he said.”
You frown, looking away from him and out the window.
“Your acting was not really up to its standard today, Y/n,” Sunghoon tells you informingly, and your frown deepens. You know. You were aware, but to hear him say it makes it hurt your ego even more.
“He’s affecting your acting, isn’t he?” He speaks again, taking your silence as an agreement to his previous statement.
You scoff quietly, but it doesn’t miss Sunghoon’s sharp ears. “You’re asking me, but you’re saying it like it’s a fact,” you mumble, shifting closer to the car door.
Sunghoon frowns at this, a sigh leaving his lips. He doesn’t say anything in return, and the rest of the car ride back to your home is silent.
He pulls up into your driveway, quickly getting out and opening the door to your side. You thank him quietly, hopping out and making your way to your front door. Sunghoon silently follows you inside, locking the door behind him like it’s routine (it is).
“Y/n.”
You stop in your tracks, your shoulders sagging in defeat but you still have a bit of pride within you, not wanting to turn around to meet eyes with your manager.
“It is my job to ensure that you do your job well. And I failed today.”
He says it so matter of factly, it almost makes you want to snort that he takes this manager position so seriously. Perhaps he doesn’t know how much he’s really done to help you in your acting career.
You spin on your heel, turning to look at him. He takes a few steps towards you, and you stay put in the middle of your hallway.
Sunghoon continues. “I failed, and I’m sorry. I will make sure that this doesn’t happen again.”
You raise an eyebrow curiously, tilting your head to the side, “Oh? And how exactly are you going to do that?”
“Taking your mind off that ex of yours.”
He brings you into a kiss, a soft and quick one to see your reaction.
Maybe it’s the loneliness of the past years since you signed into your contract with the agency, or the vulnerability after seeing Heeseung for the first time in five years, but you feel desperate to feel Sunghoon’s lips on yours again.
So you do so, bringing his face down and perhaps it’s the delusions in your head, but Sunghoon feels just as much, if not more, desperate than you as he deepens the kiss more, bringing his hands up to your waist and pulling you in closer.
This is probably the most emotion you’ve seen from him in the three years you’ve worked with him. He’s grabbing at the fabric of your flimsy shirt, trying to pull you impossibly closer to him. He slips his tongue into your mouth, causing you to moan softly as you entangle your fingers with his hair.
He groans back as he pushes you down the hall, into your bedroom. He’s been in your place plenty of times to know your layout like the back of his hand. He breaks the kiss for the two of you to catch your breath, but he barely gives you a chance to do so as he attacks your neck with his lips.
He’s nibbling at your skin, careful to not leave marks since it would only cause rumors to spread around and make it difficult for your makeup artists to cover up. But it’s easier said than done, as his teeth grazes against your collarbone while he slips the sleeves of your shirt down.
You bite your lip in anticipation, waiting and wanting him to just bite and mark you as his, but it never comes. He goes back to your lips, gently laying you down on your bed and helping you take off your shirt.
“Fuck–” Sunghoon hisses, admiring your bare chest since you had decided to discard a bra for today. “So pretty…” He mumbles, sounding dazed out. He attaches his lips to your pert nipples, his tongue circling around the bud that makes you squirm.
“S-sung..” You whimper out, your hand still entangled in the locks of his hair. He merely acknowledges you, a hum coming out from his chest as he moves on to your other nipple. You’re extremely squirmish, mostly because it’s been too long since you’ve gotten laid, but also Sunghoon’s tongue seems to read your body like a kid’s alphabet book.
“Shit,” He groans, now tugging at your pants desperately, his fingers fumbling clumsily with your button and zipper. “Need you naked for me, all for me.”
You bite your inner cheek to suppress your moan at his words, helping him out with taking your pants off. He impatiently throws your panties onto the floor beside the bed, marking his place between your thighs by kissing down your tummy.
If his intentions were to drive you crazy, it’s working.
“Heeseung ever eaten you out?” He asks suddenly, his low-lidded eyes looking up at you like some predator and you’re his prey for tonight. You bite your lip, slowly nodding.
Sunghoon gives you a curt nod in return. “I guarantee you, I’m much better.”
Maybe it’s the jealousy talking and he’s just letting his mouth run without thinking, but he doesn’t have time to overthink when he dives into your cunt and gets a taste of you. He immediately releases a moan, his hot breath on your pussy making you buck your hips up for more.
He has a job to do, and that is to make sure you don’t ever think of Heeseung again. Heeseung should be the least of your worries when you have to focus on your acting! So he makes it a personal mission, switching between swirling his tongue on your clit and prodding at your entrance.
The teasing drives you wild, wanting him to either pay attention to just your clit or your clenching hole. And like he’s reading your mind, he inserts a finger.
“Ah~! H-hoon, wan’ more!” You moan out, your hips beginning to gyrate for more friction from his singular finger. He grants you your wish, slipping another finger into your entrance and you breath out a relieved sigh.
Your taste could have him between your thighs forever, with you practically humping his face with need. Next time, he’s sure to have you sitting on his face, and he’ll drown happily in your juices.
“Fuckkk…” He moans out, his own hips starting to dry hump your sheets to let his neglected cock get some attention. To see his desperation makes you needier, your arousal spilling from your already sloppy cunt.
He notices you clenching around his fingers, and he takes the time to pull away from making out with your pussy. “You turned on? Seeing me like this? Reduced to putty by your hands?” He’s taunting you, you know but it only makes you moan louder.
You nod repeatedly, his fingers speeding up at your answer. “You taste so good, want you to cum on my tongue… can you do that for me? Hm?” He practically whines, going back to devouring your pussy without waiting for an answer.
He was going to make you cum on his mouth, either way. He feels like a starved man, slurping up your juices and arousal that leak out. Your thighs are a mess, a mix of your slick and his own saliva. He pulls his fingers out and his tongue pokes out, a glob of spit landing right on your clit.
You jolt a bit, and Sunghoon is quick to plant his hands on your waist and thigh to keep you from squirming away. “No, no, don’t move away now, baby. Let me taste what you have to give me.”
His thumb rubs at your swollen clit, but your empty hole clenches around nothing with need. Your hips work itself on his fingers, chasing for more and he watches you with awe. “Looks like you’re the one reduced to putty instead of me, now. You’re ‘bout to cum?” He hums, watching your wet cunt shine from your wetness.
You hiccup as his thumb speeds up and his tongue inserts itself into your entrance. You cry out a moan, hands frantically pulling at his hair as you feel the knot in your stomach tighten. He’s moaning into you from your taste, his own hands having your thighs in a death grip to keep you from squirming away.
“S-sungho–” You begin to stutter, the pleasure beginning to overwhelm your body and take over your thoughts. He already knows, as if he’s known your body for centuries. He nods repeatedly as a signal to allow you to cum while tongue fucking you, the motion only sending you into overdrive.
“Fuck! Oh my goddd~ cu-cumming!” You squeal, and he only presses his face further into your pussy as if his life mission was to soak his face in your essence (it just might be). He retracts when he feels you gently pushing him away, the overstimulation too much for you to handle.
“Shit,” He curses, his tongue peeking out to lick at the corners of his lips, “Could eat you all day and night. Need you sitting on my face next time,” He mumbles, staring at your twitching cunt. You breathe heavily, recollecting your thoughts as you begin to slowly sit up, leaning on your elbows.
Sunghoon raises an eyebrow at you, giving you a weird expression. “What? Is something wrong?” You ask, suddenly insecure as you instinctively shrink down a bit onto the bed.
“You think we’re done?”
Your eyes widen a bit, chest still heaving up and down as you catch your breath. “O-oh, I can, uhm… use my mouth on you?”
His thick brows furrow together. “No.”
You bite the inside of your cheek, looking away for a second out of embarrassment. You thought he liked it, did he not? Before you can even begin to overthink, you hear his belt clanking onto the ground, the zipper unzipping reaching your ears. You snap your head back at his lower half, seeing his hard cock out.
He’s softly stroking himself, his hand holding at the base that only makes his tip look even more angry and red. You gape at the sight, unconsciously scooting up against the headboard.
“Why do you keep running from me today?” Sunghoon tsks, frowning a bit as he grabs your lower calves, pulling you down towards him. You yelp quietly, his strength easily spreading your legs apart.
“Is this okay?” He asks, his tip teasing at your clit and spreading your wetness all over. You nod frantically, your hands grabbing at the sheets in anticipation. He’s definitely bigger than Heeseung, and he was already big in your eyes.
Sunghoon groans as he inserts himself inside your warm entrance, his eyes shutting as his lips part. “God, you feel so fucking—“ He hisses as he continues to go deeper, his eyes opening to watch your expression fall apart just from his cock splitting you into half.
“F-fuck, so deep…” You moan out like you’re complaining, but your legs wrap around his lower waist despite your words. You throw your head back into the pillow, feeling overwhelmed from him filling you up as your eyes screw shut.
He buries himself in you, balls deep as he hides his face into your neck. He chuckles breathlessly, the sensation against your neck making you all the more sensitive and ticklish. “S’cute. You want me that bad?” He’s referring to your legs wrapped needily around his waist, trapping him deep in you.
You nod desperately, his body weight on top of you making it impossible to move your hips against him. He smiles down at you, but his smile isn’t one of tenderness— it’s mischievous, how the corner of his lips curve slightly more upwards.
”You’re the boss of me. Tell me what to do,” He whispers into the nape of your neck, lips pressing wet kisses down your shoulder. You whine, now shaking your head as your mouth parts to speak, but nothing comes out.
Sunghoon’s smirk is now more obvious, enjoying the sight of you going dumb just by cockwarming him. “What? What’s wrong? You’re a smart girl, no? You know what you want. So say it.”
You lick your dry lips, taking a moment to think what he wants to hear. “Want.. want you to make me forget. Make me yours…” You trail off, beginning to get shy but Sunghoon proves you otherwise when a low growl rumbles in his chest.
He grabs your legs from behind him, pushing your thighs down to your chest. You gasp in surprise, his strength making you dizzy as he forces your legs down while his hips begin to thrust into you.
“Finally,” He groans out, hips easily picking up pace, “took you long enough. I was really debating on flipping you over and just make you take it… but this is much better,” he rambles, eyes focusing on where you’re taking him, his cock shining with your juices each time he pulls out.
“Sh-shut up… fast-er!” You cry out, voice breaking when his thrusts become harder, the force of his hips hitting your ass making you moan louder.
“Telling me to shut up now? You’re beginning to act real bossy…” He mutters underneath his breath but does as you ask, lifting his body weight off of you to thrust faster.
Your eyes begin to roll back, your grip on the sheets releasing and immediately flying to his back, your pretty manicured nails digging crescents into his shoulders. He’s panting above you, hair sticking to his forehead as he watches you only get louder.
He lets a whimper escape his lips from your nails scratching at his back, leaning down close to you again. He nudges at your lips, but you’re too lost to comprehend that he wants a kiss as your mouth is left open from moaning and gasping.
Both of your bodies rock back and forth on your bed, the sheets barely hanging from the edge as he presses his lips to yours, muffling your desperate whines. You can’t keep up with his desperate kisses, letting him take control of your entire body and mind.
“You’re close,” He points out, noticing the way your pussy pulsates around his thick cock, each drag of him inside of you pushing you closer to the edge. You nod, your nails scratching up into the nape of his neck as you pull him down for another kiss.
It’s nasty and messy, and it only makes you whine desperately into his mouth as you cum on his cock. You throw your head back, but Sunghoon chases your lips like he’s chasing his own orgasm, his pounding only making you overly sensitive.
You feel him pull out all the way, planning to cum elsewhere but your whines of protest stops him. “Wh—no, no! Inside, please..” you bite the inside of your cheek, and he can never say no when you look absolutely delirious for his cock and cum inside you, chest heaving up and down with fucked out eyes.
He curses underneath his breath, quickly inserting himself back inside you. “Shit.. you’re so hot,” he mumbles, brows knitting together as he picks up his speed again to reach his orgasm. He buries his face back into your neck, his moans so close to your ear that it makes your cunt squeeze around him, arousal still pooling in your lower half.
You scratch at his scalp, his moans becoming louder as he approaches his climax, your cunt gushing around him and the wet squelches letting his hot cum coat your insides. You feel so disgustingly satisfied, moaning along with him as he pants into your shoulder.
The two of you stay like that in silence, catching your breaths, but Sunghoon is quick to recover as he lifts himself off of you. Your eyes are droopy, mind clouding with sleep, sleep, sleep. He smiles softly at you, watching you eventually fall into slumber.
He gets dressed, making his way into your bathroom and grabbing a towel to lay down between your legs so that his cum doesn’t make a mess of your sheets (like he doesn’t need to wash it later for you anyway). He cleans you up slowly, carefully maneuvering your limbs to not wake you up.
He puts your blanket over your naked body and he brushes the hair out of your face, his touch lingers for a second before leaving and getting into his car. He sighs when he gets into the driver's seat, closing his eyes as he mentally reprimands himself.
It’s his job to keep you in check. He’s getting paid to ensure that you act well and to not get distracted when working. But now, it seems like he’s the one getting distracted.
1K notes · View notes
sexlapis · 6 months
Note
Ho! I loooooooveeee your actor toji fics! Is it possible to get added to the taglist? Thank you ~
Also an idea: a bts scene of reader getting sick on set(perhaps even collapsing) due to fatigue and toji taking care of them- I feel like that'd be such a hit ship moment irl :D
thank you for liking my fics <3 you can be added to the tag list 🩵.
and omg yeah i love that idea of reader overworking themselves and toji looking after them :’). and yeah i didn’t make it a behind the scenes clip i made a short fic abt it bc i do not know when to stop.. like give me an idea and i will fly away w it like a bird liek..i don’t even think this is what you asked for srsly…i hope you don’t mind (but i’ll add it to my tojiyn headcanons hehe)
cw: actor toji x actress reader, hurt/comfort, angst to fluff, swearing, petnames (‘kid’, ik people don’t like this one but i think it’s so sweet & so toji :)), collapsing, mentions of skipping meals/not eating, poor sleeping habits, feelings of loneliness & inadequacy, crying, toji taking care of reader, i made this way more angsty than you asked sorry :(
wc: 2k+
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you dragged yourself through the doors of the studio, immediately bombarded by directors, stylists, scrip writers and other cast members on your way to the dressing room, only fuelling your fatigue and stress.
sleep was a foreign concept at this point. five hours at most. so were healthy, filling meals - the last time you ate was yesterday at noon, and for breakfast today all you had was a cup of coffee, not helping your nervous, exhausted state.
admittedly, you were not doing very well. you felt that your acting was subpar and you felt lonely and isolated on set. while everyone went with their friends for a break or lunch, you sat by yourself in your dressing room, your only company being the silence.
sure, toji was also on set too, but he played a very minor role, so he wasn’t always there. and even when he was sometimes, he would hang out with the other crew members, which wasn’t a problem of course, but it did sting a little when he chose them over you.
you just felt so lonely, anxious and quite frankly upset at yourself and the circumstances you find yourself in.
there are a few knocks at your dressing room door and you weakly tell them to come in.
toji peeks is head in. “hey, kid. we start in five..” he takes a look at your weary face, dark eye bags prominent even through the makeup the stylists caked on and the frown on your lips and just knows something is wrong.
“are you ‘right?” he asks quietly, like you’re a deer who’s about to run away at the slightest of sounds.
“yes, i’m fine.” you lie, a voice in the back of your mind wishing he’d just ignore you like everyone else on this damn set does.
“‘you sure? ‘cause you don’t look-”
“i said im fine! just get out.” you snap, heart beating and breathing heavily at your own outburst.
fuck. you didn’t mean to say that.
but toji doesn’t look offended. he just nods and walks away footsteps fading as you put your head in your hands and sob.
so there you are, acting in front of the camera with your colleague in a scene where toji appears in too and you just seem off. everyone assumes it’s just not your day today and they’re not exactly wrong. you lines were slightly forced, tired and you were jittery and clearly apprehensive, like you didn’t even want to be here.
“cut!” the director calls out, more than annoyed with your behaviour. it was the sixth take and you’re really trying to make it believable, but it’s futile.
“this is the sixth take _____. this is ridiculous. get your act together. let’s take five.”
you look down at your shoes, face hot and chest thudding with embarrassment due to the director calling you out in front of everybody. tears well up in your eyes and you sigh, blinking them away as everyone starts talking again, walking away leaving you standing there like an idiot.
it all becomes too much for you. your empty stomach, oncoming headache, exhausted body, dry mouth, furrowed eyebrows, sweaty palms-
you let your script fall out of your hand as you stumble off the green screen, trying to get to your room before a hand is grabbing your arm. you turn around and it’s toji again.
“hey..” he leans down slightly to your height, scanning you over once. “you don’t look so good, _____-”
you shrug him off, vision becoming blurred with black static and limbs heavy and shaky. “i-i jus’ need to go. to my..uhm-” you stop, rubbing a hand down your face harshly. “i just-”
and then there is black.
౨ৎ
you come to and realise that you are laying on your dressing room couch, staring up at the ceiling. reaching up, you feel a wet, cool cloth on your head. you take it off. still fuzzy and body essentially lethargic, you try to sit up.
“hey, hey, hey.” toji whispers.
oh, toji’s here.
“take it easy.” he helps you sit up on the arm of the couch. he hands you a bottle of water and you drink it like a god.
“wait, what happened?” you ask, still confused and disoriented.
“you fuckin’ fainted that’s what,” he states bluntly. “scared the fuckin’ dogshit outta me.”
“oh.”
toji sits beside you on a chair, looking at you closely. you look down.
“the med team checked you out.” he tells you. “said you fainted, collapsed-whatever the fuck. ‘cos of stress and exhaustion. they even checked your blood sugar and said it was low as fuck.” he pauses. “not dangerously low,” he adds at the sight of your worried expression, “but.. low enough.”
you sigh, falling back on the couch. you think back to how the director shouted at you, how annoyed he was, and how humiliated you felt. tears start to form again and you cover your face with your hands, not wanting to cry in front of toji. you felt like you’ve had enough embarrassment for today.
toji leans forward. “what’s happening with you?”
the way he said it, so soft and concerned, makes the tears fall down and cause sobs to escape your mouth, hiccuped breaths falling from your mouth.
“hey, hey, hey..” toji coos. he reaches to you and makes you sit up again so he can take you into his arms. you let him, sobbing into his shoulder and sucking up all the comfort he gives you. toji’s big hand strokes your hair and the other caresses your back softly.
“shh, sh, sh…” he calms you down a little, you sobs turning into sniffles. he leans back and gives you space but his hands stay planted on your back. “tell toji what’s wrong.”
you hum sadly, looking down and gulping. “i’m..i’m tired. i wanna sleep..”
toji waits for you to continue. he can see you want to say more so he doesn’t hurry you along, he just rubs your back and nods to let you know you’re listening.
“i..” you take a breath, “i dunno what to do..i can’t do this fucking role.. i’m fucking tired half the fucking day and my so called colleagues don’t even like me!” you try to calm yourself down, taking another shaky breath. “and i just feel..lonely all the time..” you cry out the last few words, feeling another sob session coming up and toji pulls you close, letting you ruin his shirt with your tears as he rocks you back and forth in his arms.
“it’s okay, it’s okay..” he coos, resting his face in your hair.
you both stay like that for a few moments, you weeps dying down before toji talks.
“you can play this part, _____. ‘you have any idea how good your are, huh? you can act circles around half ‘these guys.”
you scoff, pulling your lips together. “i dunno about that..”
“‘m serious. _____, you can act, okay? ‘wouldn’t have made it this far if you couldn’t.”
“yeah but..this one’s hard..” you sigh, voice cracking but toji doesn’t let you start again.
“yeah, acting’s hard. but i can help you,” toji cups your wet face with his hands, wiping the tear streaks that paint you face, “we can all help you. the crew, your friends, that bitchass director. i’ll put a gun to everyone’s head to make them fuckin’ help you with this.”
you giggle at his seriousness and he huffs, relieved that you’re relaxing a little.
“they don’t hate you, y’know. everybody on set. the cast. they just think you’re a little shy and quiet. they don’t hate you, okay?” toji reassures you. you nod absentmindedly and he shakes your head from side to side to make you pay attention, making you smile, eyes crinkling even though they’re still tear stricken. “there she is..who the fuck could hate you, huh?”
“ugh, toji.” you roll your eyes, sniffling and rubbing your face. you pull away from him. “ugh..i just want my bed right now.”
“yeah..i know it ain’t my place but told the director that you’re taking a few days off. you need a break, kid.”
you didn’t even argue with him. you couldn’t.
“yeah, i do.” you agree.
suddenly, a loud rumble from your stomach erupts, it was like an earthquake.
toji laughs. “someone’s hungry.”
you groan. “‘m starving. haven’t eaten since yesterday.”
“we’re getting you something to eat.” he states, leaving no room for objections.
toji stands, holding his hand out for you to take. you do, his large, calloused hand dwarfing yours as he helps you stand up. “can you walk?”
“i will if there’s food involved.”
“that’s good.” toji chuckles, “how’s takeout sound?”
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a/n: had to write a whole fic abt this i apologise 🥸 will add the tag list later i just keep forgetting the users </3
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ma1dita · 3 months
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crazy little thing
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a ‘partners in crime’ installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader
words: 3.4k
summary: (pre-established relationship) The one where he spends all his drachmas to make you smile. Sometimes, the Apollo kids are better matchmakers than Aphrodite herself. Everyone’s tired of you two dancing around each other. Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader
a/n: lil valentines day special though im working on more est. relationship fluff after this!! happy season 2 renewal babies
(posted 2/9/24 unbetaed)
“Come on, you gotta admit—it’s kinda funny!” 
Luke is met with blank stares at the camp store after he places a few drachmas onto the folding table in front of the Apollo kids. They’re not sure if he’s trying to convince them, or himself.
Because yeah, that’s the excuse he goes for, wanting to spend his savings on having them sing to a certain head counselor instead of admitting his blatantly obvious feelings, so if you ask Lee Fletcher and his half-siblings, it’s kind of pathetic.
“What do we look like, a traveling mariachi band, Castellan?” he deadpans, watching the usually confident boy scratch the back of his neck with his face red like someone who’s been sitting out in the sun for too long. 
“I’m not saying to follow her around all day or whatever, just pick a random time to sing a song and catch her off-guard,” he insists, before meeting the judgmental look of one of Lee’s younger siblings.
Lee chuckles, ruffling his sister’s hair before looking at Luke quite seriously, “She’s a good friend. You’re gonna have to pay us more than that. Special song for a special lady after all.”
The son of Hermes knows he’s gonna regret this sooner or later, but proceeds to throw the rest of his meager earnings onto the table. He has other ways of being resourceful anyway, the box of chocolates he nicked from behind the store counter feeling heavy in his jacket pocket.
“Right…she’s just a friend.”
Luke’s hands fidget at his sides as he stands there, feeling a little stupid.
Lee’s little sister scoops up the coins from the table, her raised eyebrows and light aura mirroring that of her older brother. 
“What song were you thinking?” she asks, “Gotta make sure I know it if I’m singing it to your…friend.”
The 18-year-old boy tugs at his dark curls, getting more embarrassed and wanting to retreat with every minute that passes, but he’s never been one to back down from anything–swordfights, monsters, capture the flag, but this—trying to impress you...is a whole different story somehow.
Why are feelings so damn complicated? 
It feels like being at the butt of a joke, or more accurately—at the sharp edge of a sword, and Luke never lets his fights end in a draw.
“You guys got it covered. Just…surprise me too, I guess,” he sighs, walking off without finishing his sentence. He wishes he could pray a little harder to his dad for luck, even if he’s unsure of what exactly he’s wishing for (or if his dad will even listen).
“Castellan’s hopeless. You think he knows it yet?” the girl asks her brother, to which Lee laughs.
“I don’t think she does either, even though everyone else can see right through them. The new bets are on who’s gonna break first. Chiron’s been keeping track, but don’t tell Mr. D.”
If Luke wants a show, they’ll make sure he’ll get his money’s worth—and hopefully, it’ll push you two along faster. Lee bet on you two getting together before the summer after all, and he’ll be damned if he loses to Clarisse.
Valentine’s Day might be the day of love, but for you, someone who’s single (not by choice), and heavily busy with making sure people aren’t so…enamored in public (you’ve lost count of the reports you’ve written out due to indecent behavior this morning alone)---this just feels like another Wednesday, except with more hormonal teenagers with uncontrollable urges than usual. 
Oh, the joys of being the daughter of the camp director, also known as everyone’s favorite narc.
Honestly, love can suck it. With this much love in the air, you can feel it suffocating you like a plastic bag over your head. 
That’s an uncontrollable urge. Too much?
Maybe Silena was right, you do need to open yourself up more to romantic opportunities. But if you have to watch another person swap spit and get pawed at like they’re the last dinner roll at the table….You might commit arson and set this place ablaze.
You just didn’t understand why people had to go all out today of all days. Shouldn’t love be shown year-round? Though you were a person of theatrics and enjoy a good show, it is amazing how much grandiose displays of affection make you cringe. It felt very performative, instead of genuine, and you would know, you’re the best actress at camp. You’ve acted out stories before, knowing all of the greatest romances and tragedies by heart. And you pride yourself on being a decent teacher to the campers, but for some of them, love still translates to a bad rendition of a ballad they heard on the radio.
Nothing gets past you at this point.
But that sucks too sometimes, you know?
Multiple failed flings and a heartbreak or two weigh down on you on days like this one, as you’re stuck being a bystander to outlandish displays put on by the Aphrodite kids being put to work. Love is their domain anyway, and yours…makes you feel a little less undesirable. Each demigod has their own strengths and weaknesses, but perhaps in the name of love, some of them don’t know how to take a hint. Several forgettable prose readings, a Sparknotes version of Eros and Psyche, and too many red roses to count have you reeling from exhaustion and a bit of disgust—-and it’s only lunchtime. 
So yeah, maybe you’re a little jealous; they could call you Nemesis at this point.
The only flowers you got today were from the little kids from along the path to the strawberry orchard, and though it’s sweet—the human side of you misses affection. 
Devotion. 
To be a daughter of Dionysus meant to deal in extremes, obsession or nothing, and there are very few people who can handle that. Always being too much to handle, or uninterested as a defense mechanism. Perhaps that’s what scares admirers away. 
That, or the fact that Luke Castellan is always attached to your hip. To be honest, you’ve always preferred it that way—the both of you working as a pair always gets things done faster around camp and he brightens your mood, whether you admit it or not. 
But you two are just friends. 
Really good friends who look for each other in crowded rooms, hands constantly brushing against the other for comfort, and able to pick up where the other one leaves off. Usually he’s the first person you see in the morning, and the last person you say goodnight to. You know how he likes his coffee and he cuts your apples for you as you two sit together in your unassigned seats in the dining pavilion. You watch each other’s workshops and if one of you is missing, everyone knows to ask the other to get an answer.
Right? That’s totally normal coworker/friend behavior.
If you were ever given immortality, perhaps they’d make you the goddess of denial.
You’re sweeping up confetti from the dining hall floor after an uncoordinated excuse of a flash mob was performed for one of the Demeter kids…and not to sound like a heinous bitch, but maybe next time they should use something biodegradable…or less messy. Sighing deeply, you feel someone’s eyes on you, and when you look up, Luke’s standing there with two full plates of food.
“Take a break, trouble. No one’s paying you overtime,” he jokes, and you roll your eyes as you put the broom aside.
“No one’s paying me at all…” you groan, before taking the plate out of his hands and knocking your head against his shoulder in thanks. He snickers as his hand brushes the small of your back, tickling your spine as he leads you to sit at a table.
“Just another holiday. You know how it is.”
“It’d be nice to have a night off though. Sometimes I regret taking up the position,” you mumble through spoonfuls of soup. He throws his large hand over your shoulder, kneading some tension from your trapezius. Head jerking along with the movements, you giggle as soup dribbles off your spoon, which makes his lips quirk into a small smile. Being around you felt so thoughtless and easy that if you told him to jump off a bridge he’d do it without question, which should be more concerning—the hold you have on him is irrevocable. Feelings are way too difficult for his teenage brain to comprehend at this stage. It’s easier to wash dishes with lava or fight off a dragon (bad example, he knows, but there’s something about you that already makes him feel like he’s losing before anything’s even happened).
Luke is someone who fights until the end, a soldier who’s always trained and so ready that sometimes it makes you wonder what war he’s preparing for. Infatuation, or the scarier, four-letter word was not something he was ever briefed on.
“No, you don’t. You’re a control freak,” he says with a grin. 
Luke watches you play with the pendant on your necklace, the dragon scale he fashioned into your favorite accessory glinting in your hand. Running your fingers back and forth over the smooth surface, your other hand puts the spoon down and you place your head on his shoulder. He thinks if he had to describe the four-letter word on the tip of his tongue, he’d tell whoever’s asking about the way you kissed his healing cheek after you both left the Garden of Hesperides. More than a year later, Luke is still unable to find the right words even if the weakness has made a home in his heart with your name written all over it.
“I swear if I have to hear another person croak out a lovesong I might just drown myself in the Long Island Sound,” you scoff as his fingers trace circles onto your waist.
There’s a low strum of a guitar that reaches your ears and your forehead meets the cool surface of the table as you shut your eyes and grumble. It’s Lee and his half-siblings, beginning to walk through the hall seconds away from singing until they see Luke shaking his head and dragging his finger across his throat to please, gods, stop. The Apollo kids swivel and 180, walking out of the hall as the music stops dissonantly, rolling their eyes and dragging their feet.
“That was quick,” you say inquisitively as your head pops up from the table to see Luke looking off in the distance.
“Heh…I think they were just practicing or something…”
He then had to run off and pay them more drachmas for the inconvenience. 
Fucking hustlers.
The sun sets quickly on Camp Half-Blood since it’s mid-February, and Luke finds you trying to calm your nerves as you look at the mess of glitter and paper mache that covers the arts and crafts hall from floor to ceiling.
“I can’t believe this!” you say in disbelief as you look at Luke, and he takes the can of Redbull out of your shaking hand.  
“There’s just no fucking way everyone decided to use glitter. It’s everywhere! I’m—CONNOR, PUT THE SCISSORS DOWN!”
Luke sighs as he holds his hand out for his younger brother to give up the craft scissors, which he relinquishes with a mischievous grin. 
“Guys, go find trouble somewhere else,” Luke mutters, pushing his head away, and where Connor goes, Travis quickly follows, tossing a canister of glitter back at him and not knowing it was still open.
“Oops.” 
Immediately, the both of you are showered in iridescent particles, floating over your heads and stuck in your hair as the older Stoll brother looks at the two of you wide-eyed.
“You've already got trouble anyway,” he says teasingly, and this asshole winks at Luke before bolting out the door.
The room is silent now, and you pinch the bridge of your nose, before speaking, “I don’t care if he’s your brother, Luke. I might just fucking kill him.” You'd say more but your eyes are shut as you try not to breathe in glitter, and then the sound of the doorknob rattling catches your attention. Luke is standing there, finally faced with a door he can’t open, his eyebrows furrowed in annoyance–but the effect isn’t as menacing as it should be when he’s covered in red and pink sparkles.
“Not if I get to him first, the little bastard.”
“Just open the door,” you say panicked, running over and forcing his hands off the doorknob.
“I can’t if you won’t let me do it!” He grits, elbowing you and trying to unlock the door with both his inherited gift and brute strength.
“What kind of demigod even are you? Lockpicking is supposed to be your thing!”
“Well OBVIOUSLY, but it’s not working, now is it, trouble?”
Luke finishes off the rest of your energy drink before throwing the can over his shoulder and he swears he can hear you cuss at him under your breath as you berate him about the mess, so he chooses to focus on busting the door down instead of looking at the glitter stuck in your eyelashes and thinking about how the idea of being stuck in a room with you makes him feel weak at the knees. Through the window, his eyes meet the group of Apollo kids staring at the predicament you two are in (and the barricade of chairs the Stoll brothers put in front of the door). He sighs, and Lee’s little sister flips him off as they start to walk away again, instruments in tow.
“You gonna charge him again?”
A tiny Will Solace looks at his elders for guidance as they walk along the path. As one of the youngest in the bunch, he especially idolizes anything his half-siblings do, going along with whatever they see fit.
“No, but we’re close enough to the archery range that I might just shoot them through their hearts myself. Eros and Aphrodite themselves are pretty much begging us to,” Lee grumbles.
“Why are we doing this again?” Will babbles, and his half-sister grabs his hand to help him walk faster.
“A crazy little thing called love. You’ll understand it better someday, kid.”
Thankfully, it all starts winding down after dinner. Luke finds you leaning against a tree flipping through your clipboard during the camp sing-along, so he tugs at your elbow to get your attention.
“Wanna get out of here?”
You look at him, slotting your pen behind your ear as you notice faint glitter particles still dotted along his cheeks. As your lips pull into a small smile, you say, "I still have a few things to do after this, don't you?"
"Cleared your schedule for the night," he mumbles, and whether it's the glow of the bonfire or he's actually blushing, a teasing expression crosses your face as you step closer and cross your arms at him.
"You cleared my schedule for the night. How on earth did you do that?"
Instead of a proper reply, he grabs your hand, tugging you out to the docks near the lake.
"Don't worry about it."
He's not going to tell you that he owes Chris and Annie a few favors before the end of the month to make up for the night shift they ended up taking. Instead, you both sit cross-legged at the edge of the dock, a gentle breeze brushing at your clothes and for the first time today, you're able to just exist.
"I hate Valentine's Day," you suddenly say, looking up at the night sky, and he's watching you closely as the gentle shine of the moon casts a cool glow on your face. Luke cringes at your statement, thinking he's already thrown away his shot.
"Why's that?"
"Tell me something Luke, am I unlikable? Like, is there anything wrong with me?"
He looks at you like you've told him you’re secretly a cyclops.
“The fuck? How many times do I have to tell you that everyone thinks you’re great?"
You don't even give him a chance to finish his sentence before you blurt, "I don’t want to be great, I want to be loved!" Reeling back a little, you lean back on your hands to create some distance.
 “Sorry... that was a lot, and I’m just...wanting to be noticed. It's nice to have people's attention sometimes, you know?”
You’ve got all of mine, he thinks, realizing he never stood a chance at fighting it—this four-letter feeling you give him is the first and only battle he’ll back down from, and you're the only person he’ll wholeheartedly surrender to.
In short, he’s fucked.
"I always notice you." He pulls out a dented box of chocolates from his jacket pocket, opening it up for the both of you to share, and the look of amusement on your face makes him glad that at least one thing somewhat went to plan today, even if the chocolate truffles are a bit smushed. You’re popping one into your mouth and his dark eyes follow the trail of your fingers to your mouth, feeling his heart beat a bit faster.
But then you both hear the soft strum of a guitar from near the trees, and the two of you turn to hear some of the Apollo kids singing beautifully along the coastline.
I'll be seeing you, in all the old, familiar places...That this heart of mine embraces...
You gasp, grabbing Luke’s arm to push yourself up so that the both of you can turn and face a small group of your closest Apollo friends singing to the both of you. Luke’s eyes soften further when he feels you grab his hand and squeeze, leaning against his shoulder as you listen.
“Did you do this?” you mumble, still entranced by the performance.
“Only if it makes you laugh.”
And you do, in the way that he loves—a bit crazy and too loud, and it’s perfect.
I’ll always think of you that way…I’ll find you in the morning sun….
Whether it’s fireflies or Will bouncing light off the water to look like small, glowing candles, Luke can’t tell—he’s too busy watching your lips pull into a smile so confectionery his sweet tooth starts to ache. The little kid was never good at archery like his other half-siblings, but as your eyes shimmer under the ambient lights, you think his added romantic gesture shot you straight through the heart.
“You know, sometimes I really do hate you, Luke Castellan,” you whisper, and it couldn’t be more far from the truth.
“No, you don’t.”
His eyes flicker to you again, but you’re already looking back at him.
“I don’t.”
And when the night is new, I’ll be looking at the moon…but I’ll be seeing you…
It’s quiet now, and you’re unsure of where the Apollonian ensemble disappeared to but instead of worrying about if they’ll make it back before curfew, you stand there in front of Luke with your guard down.
Getting a little closer than he expected, your noses brush before you pull the slightly crushed wildflowers from your jean pocket, the only physical reminder you’ve kept from today, and tuck them into his jacket pocket, sitting right above his heart. 
“Thank you.”
Luke doesn’t realize he’s holding his breath until he feels your lips gently kiss the marred skin on his right cheek, the blemish having an uncanny resemblance to a stroke of lightning; it serves as a reminder of his weakness. The lines blur as his eyes close to savor it and he doesn’t know if weakness is your kisses or his scar—but he is vulnerable to it all the same, realizing there’s a crack in the otherwise perfect persona that he’s worked so hard on. When his eyes open again, his Achilles’ heel has taken human form.
“This has got to be cheating,” Clarisse grumbles as she watches from the distance, hidden behind the trees.
“It’s not cheating if I’m winning. Silena’s gonna get a kick out of this,” Lee chuckles, ushering everyone back towards the cabins. It’s a bit harder to do this in the dark as they try to be quiet and not interrupt whatever will happen next between their favorite counselors.
“Well lucky for you, your gifts are cute and romantic, what am I supposed to do? They fight enough!”
“That’s what got them into this mess in the first place. Come on, curfew’s in 10. We’ll find out which of us wins the bet soon enough,” Chris mutters, pushing them along back onto the main path.
“Easy for you to say, Rodriguez, you live with Luke!”
“Would I ever lie to you, La Rue?” he says with a mischievous grin, and the Apollo kids giggle at the irony.
“My body ages,
my anger burns into a seam.
I am so annoyed by love
and still it comes.”
-Kate Baer
ask to be added to luke/general taglists!
luke taglist (some won't let me tag, turn on my post notifs?): @kissingyourgrl @dorcas4meadowes @lorarri @andrewgarfldsgf @noodlesketchbook @10ava01 @poppysrin @ashisabitgay @timhalamet @liv1104 @leeknows-wife @mxtokko @bugcuti3 @luvvfromme @midmourn @2hiigh2cry @yuminako @niktwazny303 @lukecastellandefender @intergalactic-padawan @iliketopgun @annybah @dangelnleif @thegrinningghost @alyssajunelle @obxstiles @m00ng4z3r @visndcaitswhore @b0ok-lover @elegant-face-tree @this-barbie-is-having-breakdowns @amortencjja @idonevenknow1359 @maliaaaa @targaryenluvs @sakyira @dhdjdjjdhsjdiri @number-onekidqueen @bradynoonswife @stevenknightmarc @hoodedhavok @happy-mushrooms @homebyeleven @anotherblackreader @too-deviant @liviessun @lilacspider @theadventuresofanartist @sucker4seresin @simpforsunwoo @zanzie @starrystormwritings
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Yandere Manager
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Managers can teeter on the edge of being the most helpful and supportive authorities in your life or the worst. More often leaning toward the latter, it isn’t bizarre to feel helpless when they put a strain on your paycheck or your general health during and outside the work day. It’s infuriating and downright despairful when they use the power of management to make you miserable. But you can always file a report to HR or the branch head. Sometimes it’ll work but not always. More likely than not there’s more support for them further down the line which makes it even harder to contest. 
“(Y/n) didn’t I tell you to smile when you’re at the front? S-M-I-L-E!”
But there’s something just as alarming about the manager who doesn’t have that. No favor from directors, open to the reprimands of human resources, and even a criminal record to boot. There’s something that compels you to listen when you look for an ounce of sympathy in those amber eyes to find a tempest of unhinged madness. You can only begin to visualize in a fever-driven nightmare. 
That’s your manager. 
The lovely, awful, and disastrous manager that fills you with helplessness like no other. 
Yandere Manager is just so naggy. Not only to you but your coworkers as well because there’s always something to comment on. Even when it’s not insulting or condescending it just rubs everyone the wrong way. 
“The way the uniform looks on you makes it look like we dragged you off the street.”
“....”
“....You’re the one who gave her a uniform that isn’t her size.”
“Yeah, but she’s the one who looks homeless. (Y/n) how about you mind your business and actually do your job. Thanks!” 
Yandere Manager is especially unpredictable in his support of you. Sometimes joining unruly customers when they blame you for something you messed up on. While also defending you over something small that didn’t require anyone’s input let alone his. Situations with entitled customers is a coin toss with him.
“Miss I’ll just remake the drink for you.”
“No no, you don’t have to I just want to know what was used instead of oat milk.”
“Oh okay then it's…Mr. Manager?”
“....YOU!?”
“Me?”
“Oh no.”
“NEVER WALK INTO MY ESTABLISHMENT AGAIN!”
“What why? I didn’t–”
“IF YOU REFUSE TO LEAVE I’LL HAVE TO REMOVE YOU BY FORCE.”
“Ahhh!”
“Wait! You don’t need the crossbow! Put it down!”
“DON’T EVER SPEAK TO MY EMPLOYEE EVER AGAIN!”
You can hardly pinpoint a pattern to his discord even after his honest confession when you catch him rifling through your things. But he won’t explain why he steals your lunch or makes fun of you in front of your coworkers. Or why he slashes your tires and breaks the windows of your home. It gets so bad you’re starting to think he uses this supposed obsession as an excuse for his behavior.
“Will you please explain why you broke into my car…for the fourth time?”
“Hmmm no.”
“...fine don’t. Now get out.”
“No I don’t think I will.”
“I have pepper spray and a tasor.”
“I can handle pepper spray.”
~Kzzt~
“Okay fine, you win this time.”
But despite your suspicions, he’s very much obsessed. Convinced he’s owed your affections he doesn’t mind breaking into your home, invading your personal space, and making light fun-as lovers do. No, his more sporadic actions happen to be something like knee-jerk reactions of his love for you. Similar to cuteness aggression. Because in his mind he’d prefer to break another window of yours than murder the family next door for looking at you too long. 
“This will have to do for now. I mean they can’t pin me for their carelessness when driving into a ditch, right?”
Usually, he doesn’t mind just doing whatever he feels like but since you’ve caught and called the police on him he’s on a tight leash. Not because he’s at all afraid of the police. Not at all. It’s because then he’ll be breaking the hold he has on you. Let me explain.
The minute he did the slightest thing out of line you called the higher-ups who threatened him and assured you he’d be fired. Great. But when he cornered you in your own home with the possibility that this wouldn’t stop when he was fired you had to pause.
“Sure you might get rid of me at work but then you’ll never know where I am. Instead of staying at work with you, I might just be in your room or at your friend’s house, or in your car!”
“T-t-then I’ll call the police on you!”
“After I’ve already left? Well sure they can serve an order and arrest me if I’m too close but when I break out–and trust me I will–you’ll have no idea when or where I’ll be coming from. I’ll be a constant boogeyman over your life if you kick me out now.”
“.....”
“So don’t get me fired, kay?”
Yandere Manager who is only given a warning by his employers and police before you stop attempting to get others involved. As much as you hate to admit it, he’s completely right. For all the times you find him breaking in, already broken in, or stealing something of yours he’s never lied to you. The same can’t be said for others but even when he’s doing something wrong he’ll always be honest with you. 
“Mister Manager? Did you do something to my lunch?”
“No! How dare you accuse me of such a deplorable thing! I should write you up.”
“....(Y/n)?”
“Clyde.”
“What?”
“Did you mess with his food?”
“Yes.”
“Dude are you serious?!” 
Life with Yandere Manager isn’t going to be easy at first but when has it ever been for an employee like yourself? It’s best that you get used to your Manager’s obsession, heck it might help make your grueling shift a little bit better.
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puppy-steve · 5 months
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i keep thinking about that one bachelor au post so here's my take on it (i've never watched the bachelor or bachelorette so bear with me)
the bachelor au where steve's the bachelor and eddie is a contestant, but not because he actually wants to be, he's just in it for the paycheck. robin is also a contestant but only because her parents sent in her application without her knowing and she isn't out to them yet.
they both think that steve is overrated and definitely over hyped. typical rich kid with enough money to buy people's love, yada yada.
until they both start going on dates with him and then realize that it isn't exactly true. yes, he's rich, but he's also kind and funny and actually genuine once you get past the mask he puts on for everybody. eventually, eddie and robin find themselves looking forward to their dates.
only robin doesn't want to date him. he's slowly moving his way up the ranks to becoming her best friend, sure, but this is still tv. she's still expected to kiss him and confess her feelings for him. and when the time comes for her to do that, she can't.
they're in venice. steve is leaning in and robin is very aware of the cameras filming them. the back of her neck goes cold and her stomach churns and suddenly she's running in the opposite direction. her italian is passable so she ends up getting a taxi back to the hotel production put them in.
she locks herself in her en suite and presses her forehead against the cold porcelain. she doesn't know how long she sits there until her phone buzzes and she checks the notification. the nausea rises up her throat again. she forgot she gave steve her number.
there's a knock on her room door and another text.
r u ok? can i come in?
robin debates it but figures she owes him and explanation. she lets him in and they sit on the bathroom floor. robin tells him why she's on the show in the first place, about how she didn't know her parents signed her up until she got the phone call from the casting director. tells him that even if she gets kicked off, she can still use the money for her student loans.
she stares at the water in the toilet bowl when she comes out to him.
steve is quiet, processing, before he laughs. he's not laughing at her, he promises, but "robin. you're on a show with more than a handful of other queers, you know that, right? i'm bisexual."
and yeah, robin knew that, but it's different when you're not into the guy you're supposed to be romancing at all.
steve reassures her that it's okay, and that he still hopes they can be friends and keep in touch after the show ends.
robin would like that.
she apologizes to the production crew the next day and they're understanding and steve and robin get a re-do of their date. it's much more genuine this time, filled with laughs and digs as they eat gelato along the river and people watch and gossip.
it's the best robin's ever been on.
eddie, on the other hand. he's absolutely head over heels for steve, which is surprising even for him. he's trailer park trash, he's got absolutely nothing on steve harrington. not the name, not the money.
hell, the very first day, he insulted the guy's food choices right to his face without knowing it.
eddie wants the earth to give way underneath him and swallow him whole.
he plays it up on their first date, all fake niceties and empty smiles, until steve tells him point blank, "the guy that said the buffet was shit that first night? i want to get to know him."
eddie's flabbergasted.
steve opens up about all the fake people in his life, the ones who just take advantage of them and use him for their own gains. the ones who don't even bother to get to know the real him. the one that likes to play guitar and hang out with the gaggle of teenagers that follow him around all the time for some unknown reason.
he tells eddie about what he wants to do with his life, not what someone else has planned for him and eddie falls deeper and deeper.
this time, when steve leans in for a kiss, eddie doesn't shy away. their lips press together and it's the best goddamn kiss either one of them have ever had.
the show has a deadline, of course, and steve can't just spend all his time with eddie and robin. there are other contestants. robin knows her rose is strictly platonic and steve has already called her multiple times freaking out about his growing crush on eddie. she knows eddie has this in the bag.
the final night comes and the contestants have dwindled. there's only a small group of them left: eddie, robin, and another guy and girl they didn't bother learning the names of.
when steve chooses eddie after a moment of dramatic silence that kind of puts his own dm dramatics to shame, eddie doesn't hesitate to jump in steve's arms, wrap his legs around his waist, and plant a sloppy one on him right in front of the cameras.
899 notes · View notes
morwap · 5 months
Text
𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐀 𝐃𝐎𝐕𝐄, 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐃 𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐌𝐘 𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐋 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑
remus lupin x fem!reader
angst/fluff??
nav | r.l m.list |
modern au!, film director!remus, swearing, long distance, the title is from a lyric i thought was in a jeff buckley song,
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───────✧ 𓆩♡𓆪 ✧───────
now you stared at your phone, the pit in your stomach grew and grew. did he even want you to see it? maybe you’re just fucking delusional and it’s not even about you.
you can remember everything, like it was glued into your brain, every single shot and scene deliberately thought out by only someone that knew you. a part of your life told on screen by someone else’s perspective, but it was also a part of his life.
did you expect it? no, not at all. all you did was want to watch a movie, which made you think it was fate once you realized what was going on.
you knew it was wrong to get on your phone during a movie, knowing you were probably being written about on r/assholes, but you had to know.
typing the title of the movie with a few typos and then searching for directors, writers and producers. you saw it, the name you knew that would show but you just needed to know it was for real.
written - directed - produced by Remus Lupin
you shut your phone off instantly.
the characters names were different of course, but the posters in the female leads room were yours, the way she dressed was yours, the way she did her hair was yours, the way she did her skincare was yours, even the text messaging scenes were how you typed. It was you.
you watched as the characters texted some even being the exact messages, getting close so fast, sharing secrets and telling each other everything.
it would switch from each point of view.
arguments told from each perspective, you could tell he tried to get your feelings portrayed correctly and all you could do was smile.
the distance and longing told between the two characters, told you how he felt. once the characters had met face to face, it was an exact play by play of how it went. the nervousness that went through the characters went through you too.
once you heard the song you knew what scene was coming. the female lead walked around his bedroom, looking at all his things and teasing him as his vinyl started to spin and music started to flow. soon enough their lips were locked.
you were surprised when it didn’t end when the two characters slowly lost contact, it showed how badly they wanted to text but since it had been long they didn’t know if it was appropriate.
the characters went on in life, then by fate went back to each other. what stuck with you was the male lead saying “it only takes one phone call”. Is that what he wanted? you left the theater quickly once the credits ended.
now your finger hovered over contacts, you scratch your head before finding his number. you sighed and closed your eyes then quickly pressed call.
there was barely a ring before you heard his voice.
“y/n”
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rinbowaman · 5 months
Note
HI, I LOVE UR WRITING SO MUCH!!
can u do something,like a oneshot Or something for heeseung where because of being an idol he can't date but he's also a hormonal man so he gets hot and bothered due to stress and other factors often but now it's gotten to a point where he can't concentrate, he needs pussy. So he tells his manager who pulls him aside one day to ask him what's wrong with him. Now the manager arranges someone (YOU) as a stress reliever for heeseung. U can continue the rest hehe:)
”The Arrangement.”
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Warnings: Idol HS and y/n, oral (fem receiving), reader is getting paid for sex, hints of rough smut.
“Heeseung, come on! More energy! Bring out Ethan Lee! Concert is in a few hours, we need everyone on point.”
Heeseung’s hands remained firm on his hips as he rolled his eyes and caught his breath. He was frustrated, angry, and disappointed, mainly because there was a lot of truth in the staff’s words, he wasn’t as lively or energetic…in fact, he was slacking. 
“Yeah….got it. Can we do another take?” 
The staff and creative director all nod and aired the track as the boys performed their routine. “Yes! Just like that! Keep doing that Heeseung!”
“Nice wink, Jake! Do that more!”
“Sunoo, more smiling!”
“Jungwon, tilt your chin down more on this part.”
“Nice one Niki!”
“Jay, too sexy! Tone it down just a tad.”
“Sunghoon, do that thing that the girls like, you know, lick the fangs. That drives them crazy, and we want them to go ballistic during the concert.”
By the end of the hour, the group had completed a lengthy six hour session, with only ten minutes to spare before hair and makeup. “Changeover!” the staff yells out, already herding the young men backstage. 
“Heeseung…you good?”
“Huh?  Oh…yeah….”
“You sure? You seem to be out of it, I know it’s hard to get rest when we’re busy on tour…just a few more days and we can finally get a break.” Jake was always understanding, and normally he could guess the issue and provide the motivation as a resolve for everyone, including the eldest. However, this time…he wasn’t guessing correctly. 
“Yeah…thanks.” Heeseung merely stated before changing into the first outfit. He wasn’t tired or feeling restless, maybe to an extent, but that really wasn’t the cause of his lack in performance. The man was yearning; hungry for a desire that could not be fulfilled by the pampering treatment of first class air tickets, the rising fame of popularity, or the lavish hotel stay. He needed flesh, and badly. 
While it was customary for idol’s to keep things hush-hush as far as their personal lives went, it didn’t mean that they could indulge, so long as it never reached public sight or hearing. What with the frequent dates he’s gone on with many of the most well known female idols, some younger or older, the rigorous tour schedule had kept him from maintaining anything steady, and for so long he had been running dry. He wasn’t necessarily desperate, just needed the warmth and comfort of a suitable woman. 
The concert ended, and as always, the group had served well and performed fantastically. The energy was thriving and the atmosphere was filled with screams as each member waved goodbye. 
Finally, it was all done. 
“Well…we got two more days here until we fly back. We gonna do anything?” Jake inquires openly as he high-fives each member. 
“Niki and I were going to go try out this restaurant. They charge $300 per steak.”
“Oh I heard about that place. Don’t they have a year-long waitlist?” 
“Manager got us in.”
Heeseung pretended to be asleep, propping his head against the window as his arms remained firmly crossed against his chest. His ears pricked up as he overheard the ongoing conversation inside the van. 
After arriving at the hotel, everyone went into their respective rooms. As usual, Heeseung had a room entirely by himself, which he and the members were instructed to tell the fans that it was all due to chance of winning “Rock, Paper, Scissors” when in reality, the eldest of the group receives such privileges as customary within the industry. But for the sake of reflecting the bond and “softness” within their image, the company deemed it better to lie about the room assignments. 
He tosses his leather jacket aside as it flops onto the chair backing. Exhaustion took over his entire body as he threw himself on the bed. His eyes slowly open as he reaches for his phone, half of his face still buried into the plush bedding as he explores his pocket and dig it out. There was no way he could spend another night alone, taking care of his needs by hand. WIth as many callouses he had, there was no way he could even make it feel natural or good, there wasn’t enough lotion in the world that could cover up and mend the roughness of his hardworking skin. 
“We need to talk.” was all he types in before sending off the message. 
A few moments pass before he hears the knocking at his door. “Well that was fast…Mr. Manager.” he softly whispers while lifting his body off the bed. 
“Heeseung, what’s up?”
“Need you to come inside for a second.”  Heeseung nonchalantly spoke out as he turned and lazily plops himself on the couch. HIs manager followed closely behind and took a seat across, looking at the young man intently before raising the concern yet again. “Everything alright?”
“You really have to ask?” Heeseung peeks from under his elbow as he drapes an arm over his eyes. He really didn’t like to make eye contact when it came to the topic of girls and dating…and this wasn’t going to be any easier. “I need a woman…”
“.....you mean….a date?” his manager tries to confirm, before a snappy Heeseung gently corrects him. 
“Not to date….I need a woman…I need skin…flesh…hair….and nails to dig into my skin with a feminine voice to scream out my name.” 
“....so you want a prostitute?” 
“NOT A PROSTITUTE!” on the verge of losing it, Heeseung sits up rather abruptly as he squares his gaze over to his manager. He really wasn’t trying to be impatient or unpleasant, he was in a vulnerable state of mind. No man should ever go so long without feel the pleasures of someone else’s body, especially someone who is constantly surrounded by all these pretty little fans that were filling his mind with all sorts of sordid thoughts….them with their perfect makeup, the sweet fragrances of their perfume and those damn long and elegant acrylic nails. Day in and day out, he’s surrounded by feminine energy, it all contributed to this sexual demise he was falling into. “I’m just going to put it this way….if you don’t find me someone that can keep their mouth shut, and spend one night with me, then I am going to lose it. I’m on the verge of doing reckless things, and I can’t control it. Just find me someone that isn’t a prude but isn’t desperate.”
The manager knew Heeseung well enough to know when the young man was on the road to destruction, this was one of them. The heat of anger coming from his eyes was enough to tell him what he had to do. The hardest factor about this thing is finding someone suitable, not only in appearance but in their manners; he’d have to be cunning and covert. 
Five hours in, he nearly fell to the ground in defeat when suddenly…
“Excuse me, Sir?”
“Hm? Yes?”
“You dropped this back at the last walkway.” 
“Oh!...Thank you….”
You turned to  continue on with your own business when the gentleman spoke out in haste, you had assumed it was because he wanted to thank you once again for returning his wallet, but the tune of his wording made you realize that that wasn’t the case. 
“Young lady, I have a proposition for you…do you have a minute?”
…………………….
A half hour later, after an internal hesitant debate, you caved in at the young man’s offer. You weren’t the type to ever hook up with a random man, even an idol, but the fact that you had been running dry since your last break up over a year ago, and not to mention the exquisite monetary offer that would cover three months of your rent, which would leave you that much stress free from everything else going on. Your final year in college has been more demanding than the previous, so much that you had to quit your part time job, which left you struggling financially. All of this led to the perfect combination of desperation, sexually frustrated, and mentally drained. By the time he mentioned that a non-disclosure agreement would mandate that both you and the idol would refrain from exposing your identities, you accepted. 
Expressing that you wanted to get it done and over with, the man took you to the lavish hotel room, the most expensive in your home country. You weren’t entirely sure how you felt, being taken to an extremely fancy hotel room to meet a young and handsome performer and spend one night with him…for sex. Should you bail out now? 
“We’re here. Here’s the key card, it’s on the third floor, room number 306.” 
You take the key card and paused, thinking for a moment if you should just tell him that the deal was off. But the subtle push over towards the elevator pretty much sealed your night. 
You walked through the narrow corridor, staring at the gold engraving of the numbers on the key card. With a deep breath, you gently knocked on the door before inserting the key. “Hello?” you gently speak out as you open the door. The entire room was dimmed with a golden hue with no one in sight; the massive bed topped with goose feather pillows and comforter sets up an enticing welcome as you breach closer to the main layout. 
“Well hello.”
You turned in haste upon hearing the deep voice from behind, and saw him. He was leaning back against the wall, behind the door panel side. No wonder you didn’t see him when entering, the wide door swing provided enough cover for him to remain elusive yet still having enough sight to observe how delectable you look. His manager outdid himself. 
“Oh…hi…I’m sorry…my name is–”
“Y/N…”
“Y-yeah…”
The manager must have already texted the idol your name. You couldn’t lie, this entire thing was uncomfortable, and you were on the verge of backing out when the man started to walk over, stepping into the warm light. He had a handsome face, and was tall…very tall, but of all things that got to you, was the glaring look he had in his eye. He looked hungry, famished even, with the way he stroked his finger across his lips as he tilted his chin downard, arms loosely crossed as he took each step steadily. 
“Um…I’m not sure…if I should–”
“You’re already here…might as well get it going.”
He grabbed onto your shoulders, proceeding to walk forward as he herd’s you backwards until your back meets the opposite wall. He really was hungry, and unfortunately for you, it was contagious. WIth the way his hands roamed all over our body, the way his mouth immediately latched onto your throat, and the way his fingers ripped your blouse apart, sending buttons flying all over, he was a demon tainting every sense of rationality in your mind and you loved it. Still, you were experiencing hesitancy, but the moment he peeled your bra down and began sucking on your nipples, leaving squelching kisses the soft skin on your mounds. “W-wait…”
He doesn’t respond. Instead, he drags you down onto the ground, pushing you back to lay you down, leaving you completely vulnerable. He had to be hurting with the way he was feasting on your body, so much that you wondered exactly just how long he had gone without it, and was it longer than you? 
“I-I…” was all you could manage to stutter when he started to lift your skirt, ruffling it around your waist as he fingers the damask lining of your thigh high stockings. With a mouthful of your skin, he muffles his burning desire. “Stop trying to push me away…I’ve been hurting for so long.” 
You ignored his words as you continued to create some distance. You were torn, he felt so good rubbing your curves but also made you feel scared with how pushy and forceful he was becoming. You nearly screamed out when the sudden warmth of soft, plush lips tenderly kissed your clitoris. Being so caught up with his mannerisms, you hadn’t realized that he dragged and tore your panties off, leaving you bare and exposed. The way his tongue circulated around and pressed in between the folds of your womanhood caused you to drop your hands to your side, no longer putting up any resistance. He kept going, licking and twirling his tongue around, making your head spin vigorously as he committed the only gentle act of the night, which was placing his hands on your inner thighs and pushing them apart as he buried his face deeper into your core. 
You moaned out in extreme ecstasy, arching your back and digging your hips downward. You gulped down hard swallows as you try to catch your breath, but the sensation of his nose and mouth inducing the most pleasure you’ve felt in over a year had you inadvertently suppressing screams, choking on your own breaths. 
“O-oh!...Oh my God! P-please!” You dug your fingernails into the floorboard, squinting your eyes shut as you gasped out your moans, he went in faster and flickered his tongue deeper while shoving it inside your cavity. Groaning out his pleasures, he growls as he thrusts it in and out. He closes your legs together, pressing them closer to your chest as he wraps his arms around your thighs, still slurping and thrusting his oral muscle. Propping his stature on the caps of his knees, he hugs your thighs close to his chest as he lifts your derriere from off the floor as he brings you closer to the edge. HIs face shoved in against your taint, his slick tongue going in and out at a vigorous momentum, the faint echoes of his cheeks slapping into you as the impact caused your body to shift up while he had you partially levitated did you in, and you screamed out your moans. With your thighs shook, lips quivered, and chest heaving, you laid restlessly as the hot stream of fresh tears escaped from the outer corners of your closed eyes. Your heavy breathing became a rewarding sight as he remained in his kneeling position, unbuckling his belt. A smirk creeps up on his face as he sheds off his attire, chuckling in a demeaning manner as he looks down at you, somewhat pitifully and yet adoringly. 
“Oh pretty thing…the night is just getting started. Got a lot of pent up frustration in me, and unfortunately, I’m about to take it out all on you. Now…grab it…and scream out my name.”
……………………..
Days had passed since that night, and you still felt sore in between your legs. It was stingy, yet the pulsating rampage also reminded you of the greatest pleasure you had felt in all your life. Not even your ex-boyfriend, the one who was known to frequent the college campus girls, could even make you feel remotely as good. Must be an idol thing, either that or there must be something in the water in South Korea. Too bad you’ll never see him again. 
You were making your way over towards the bus station ahead, when a large crowd blocked your way. 
“Oh come on…” you tilted your head left, and right, all to find a small loophole within the bustling groups of young girls screaming their heads off and flashing dozens of pictures. You shuffled your way through, not paying any mind to your surroundings, when all of a sudden a young fellow dressed in black approaches you.
“Miss y/n?”
“Yes?...who are you?”
The man declines to answer, instead, he hands you a folded piece of paper. You unfolded it to read the contents, looking rather confused. 
‘Hey pretty thing, you free tonight?’
Looking up, the staff member smiles as he points to the side, indicating for you to look in that direction. Turning your head over shoulder, you were stunned to see the man from the other night, the idol who violated you with his tongue and cock, had you begging for more until the wee hours of the early morning. It was him…
“Oh my God is he looking at me?!”
“No he’s looking at me!”
“Heeseung! Heeseung!” 
All the girls waved and jumped, but the direct eye contact and small smirk told you of who he truly was looking at. He sends off a wink which had all the girls pool into an emotional and hormonal mess, leaving only you standing upright, with his eyes still looking directly into your own, he silently mouths out the words to you. 
“My…pretty….thing.”
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Text
Mockingbird
Synopsis: Charles Leclerc as always been a family man, so it makes perfect sense to everyone when he chooses to adopt a child. Specifically, you.
adopted monegasque daughter reader x charles leclerc
A/N: for this one; charles will adopt y/n when he’s 28, for the most part, the grid will be the same as the 2023, everyone’s just older, and because charles’ relationships are unpredictable, he chooses to adopt and raise y/n mostly on his own.
. okay so
. again, charles has always wanted a family
. small, big, when he’s young, when he’s old
. doesn’t care, just wants a family
. specifically, a child
. but after many not-so serious and semi-serious relationships
. he realizes that he’ll have to wait a few years until he can have one of his own
. unless
. “what if I just adopt a child?”
. “I won’t have to wait any longer, I can just have one and raise them on my own terms”
. charles decides he likes this idea very much
. so he thinks it over and talks about it with his own family
. then after many conversations with his mother
. he visits a few adoption centers
. talks to a lot of social workers and child protective service workers
. finds one wide-eyed, adorable, 3 year old girl
. and falls absolutely in love
. the directors of the adoption center tell him all about you
. your birth parents, your story, your situation
. his heart was set
. the adoption process takes a few months
. so charles take that time to get ready for you
. but nothing could prepare him for the day the adoption agency called and told him you were his
. he swears it was the best day of his life
. he was beaming the entire drive to the adoption center with pascale
. had tears in his eyes when he finally got to hold you in his arms
. so then
. charles leclerc is a father
. the first two years of living with charles was definitely an experience
. you don’t remember much but he tells you how chaotic ages 3-5 were
. about how he basically lived with his mother in his childhood home for those years so she could help him take care of her granddaughter
. how much he loved getting to know you
. finding your favorite foods, toys, shows, ect
. how he loved teaching you his languages
. (he raises you in french, italian, and english, particularly in that order)
. how he cried when he dropped you off for day care and kindergarten the first time
. how he loved helping you know him
. like playing songs on his piano for you
. teaching you how to play different sports
. or watching old formula 1 races together
. speaking of formula 1
. you were raised racing
. charles bought you your first kart when you were six
. brought you to your first f1 race when you were five
. actually, charles had a love-hate relationship with bringing you to races with him during the early years of having you
. because on one hand
. there’s thousands of cameras around during a race weekend, and charles doesn’t want you televised 24/7
. and there’s also hundreds of people around him while he’s in the paddock, and he wants none of them near you
. it’s also hard to give you his full attention during race weekends
. which is something he always wants to do
. so he’s against the idea at first
. but on the other hand
. he can’t bear being apart from you for a few hours, nonetheless a few days or sometimes weeks
. and he knows you don’t really understand what’s going on, only that your dad puts on a red suit and drives a very fast car for a hour and half
. but he loves coming back to the garage to see you sitting with andrea, clad in ferrari merch and big headphones with a happy grin on your face
. it cheers him up no matter what happened on track
. and he knows he has lots of people willing to look out for you while he’s busy
. because you instantly became beloved by the grid the moment charles walked in with you in his arms
. who’s carlos sainz and pierre gasly?
. you only know uncle carlo and uncle pear
. uncle lew, uncle max, the list goes on
. although charles never lets you out of the ferrari garage
. his closest friends come in and visit you often
. sometimes because your dad asked, sometimes just because they want to
. also, speaking of max
. you met penelope during the winter break when you were five
. and even though she’s three years older than you
. she instantly became like your older sister
. and suddenly charles and max hang out a lot more often for the sake of their daughters
. anyway, the early years of living with charles were still chaotic, but he says that those years contain some of his favorite memories
. he loved watching you grow up
. sending you to primary school
. watching you kart on the same track he drove on when he was your age
. spending many afternoons at his mother’s house with his brothers
. (arthur and lorenzo are the best uncles by the way)
. watching you discover your own passions, whether that be racing or not
. traveling around the world with you, both to race and to explore
. watching you become independent, speaking up for yourself and what you believe in
. it all goes by very fast for charles
. and suddenly you’re a teenager
. by now charles is close to/about to retire
. so you don’t spend that much time in the paddock as a teenager
. but the times that you do are very fun
. instead of staying in charles’s team garage, you explore the paddock with penelope, who’s still an older sister to you
. you befriend all the newer drivers
. and hang out with whichever drivers are left from the grid when you first got adopted
. however, the drivers that charles has been friends with and have retired by now
. lewis, daniel, carlos, pierre, max, george, alex, lando
. you’ve formed your own big family with them and their kids
. because almost all of you live in monaco, you see each other often
. you guys go on vacations together when you don’t have school
. holidays on private beaches and expensive yachts
. or at booked-out ski resorts and mountain lodges
. you and penelope are the oldest, and are mostly in charge of looking after the youngest kids
. but you don’t mind, you love them
. it’s your own little f1 community
. but this is barely the beginning of having charles as a father
. he loves embarrassing you, for one
. at first glance, it might seem cool to have your dad come pick you up from school in a ferrari
. until he gets out in strangely pattered pants and a shirt that will never match
. “papa, do you not have anything else in your closet?”
. “what do you mean? you don’t like?”
. he says it keeps you humble
. you say he should just stay in the car next time
. charles does make sure you’re humble and grateful for everything you have
. but he doesn’t help by spoiling you to death
. you like something from the new gucci collection? it’s yours
. new dior bracelet you said is pretty? your birthday gift
. you think aruba looks nice? where do you think you two spend your next summer vacation
. “papa, when I said I wanted a break from school, I didn’t mean in italy”
. “but mon petit soleil, you are relaxed now, non? you’ll be back by monday, don’t worry”
. whether it be italy or not, wherever you go, charles tries to keep you as safe as possible
. he’s always been cautious of fans and paparazzi around you, no matter how old you are
. making sure you’re holding on to him when a crowd comes out from no where and gets too close for comfort
. keeping you by his side when there’s paparazzi around
. and doing whatever it takes to make sure you’re safe and happy at home/school/in the paddock
. anyway
. I could go on and on about being charles’ daughter
. but the point is that he loves you
. you’re y/n jules leclerc
. his petit soleil
. he couldn’t imagine his life without you
672 notes · View notes
evermoresqueiswriting · 2 months
Text
dance the night
"Baby, you can find me under the lights Diamonds under my eyes Turn the rhythm up, don't you wanna just Come along for the ride? Oh, my outfit so tight You can see my heartbeat tonight I can take the heat, baby, best believe That's the moment I shine"
summary: barbie date and an invitation from clarisse you can't refuse
pairing: clarisse la rue x f!reader
word count: 3.4k
tags: fluff fluff fluff
series masterlist 2/?
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You were getting more and more comfortable at camp. You were getting along very well with your siblings. Especially Lee and Cornelia, who explained everything – sometimes twice – to you. They also explained to you that if you wanted to leave camp during the summer, you needed to get an authorisation from Mr. D. And Clarisse knew, so she told you to get it since it was your idea to go see that movie. Your siblings told you he rarely gave them away. 
“Mmh. I accept this challenge.”
“It really wasn’t,” Lee said. “It was a piece of information at best.”
You walked, determined, to Mr. D’s office. You didn’t have many arguments, but Cornelia did tell you Mr. D was always looking for campers to give him alcohol even though his father, Zeus, forbade him to drink any. Mr. D was playing cards with Chiron. Maybe it wasn’t the right time, you hesitated before Chiron looked up.
“Yes?” he said, putting his cards down. 
“Mmh,” you froze before staring at your camp director, “I needed to talk to Mr. D, please.”
Chiron turned his face to look at Mr D, and he took off his sunglasses before looking at you.
“What?”
“I need authorisation to leave camp for one day,” you explained firmly. “Please.”
“And why would I give you that?” 
“Because I need it. For next week, the 21st,” you begged.
Mr D stared at you, bored. He was ready to take back his cards, when you shouted, desperately.
“I–I’ll give you alcohol in exchange!” 
“No you will not!” Chiron gave you a hard stare. “Zeus–.”
“I’m desperate, so yes I will.” 
Mr D was still silent. 
“What is this about y/n?” Chiron asked. “Why do you need to leave camp?”
“I– I asked Clarisse on a date. Well,” you faltered. “It’s not exactly a date I don’t think, it’s more like I won a bet, and what I asked for was for us to go see a movie together. So maybe it is? And it would suck for me if I can’t go, when I won the bet you know.”
Chiron and you were both looking at Mr. D, and you had your best puppy eyes for him.
“Still a no for me,” Mr. D took his cards. 
“Please, please, please, please, please!” 
Mr. D shook his head. You sighed, thinking about what to say to try and convince him to let you go. 
“That’s–,” you hesitated before blurting out “such a homophobic thing to do in 2024 to refuse to let us go on a date! Which is what that is… a date, with us girls.”
“What?” Mr. D muttered confused.
“And during pride month? You have no shame. It’s–.”
“Fine, if I give you this authorisation, will you shut up and leave?”
You nodded vigorously. And Mr. D sent you a  flying paper with the snap of a finger, and after reading the paper to make sure it was legit – which did take a few minutes – you ran away in case he changed his mind. The first person you ran into Luke and asked him if he had seen Clarisse. He pointed at the Ares cabin, and told you he saw her go in. 
You walked to her cabin, and knocked, shouting Clarisse’s name over and over again. The door flew open, revealing an annoyed Clarisse.
“Hi,” you smiled. 
Her face softened slightly at your sight, but she still looked at you annoyed, with her arms crossed. 
“What?”
“Guess what?” your hands were in your back, hiding away the piece of paper you got earlier.
“Your boyfriend called your mom to ask her why you ditched him?” 
“What?” you hesitated. “No. First, I don't have a boyfriend, they were all losers in my school. And no girlfriends either for the same reason.”
“Good,” she nodded. “So what was the news then?”
The paper was still held behind your back, you held her gaze a few more seconds before showing her proudly the paper. She looked at the paper, frowning, and then took your paper. You stood there patiently, swinging on your feet, waiting for her to finish reading it at her own pace. 
“How did you get Mr. D to agree to this?” she puts the paper down. 
“It’s a secret. But I’ll tell you if you want to know.”
“Of course I do, no one here in years got one of these,” she shook the paper in front of you. 
You held up your index, and made a ‘come closer’ motion with it. She came closer, and you put your face even closer, her nose almost touching yours. Clarisse was taller than you – taller than most campers actually – and your face was facing up. And having her this close to you, it was as if time had stopped. You smiled. 
“I promised him alcohol,” you whispered. 
“What!” she stepped back. “Do you know Zeus–.”
“I know, I know, Cornelia told me. I don’t remember what I said after that,’ you lied, “I guess he just likes me.”
“Okay,” Clarisse smiled, “liar.”
Clarisse and you stood there, at the threshold of the Ares cabin for a few more moments, just enjoying each other's company before her siblings ran in, pushing you toward Clarisse. Your  body slammed against hers, her arms wrapped around your shoulders to steady you. You would have been upset if it weren’t for the outcome. But Clarisse quickly let go before grabbing the shirt of her brother – Mark – and made him stop in his tracks. You didn’t hear what she said, but you saw Mark nodding vigorously before walking away. 
“Let’s get out of here,” Clarisse grabbed your arm and led you outside. 
“So,” you started when she stopped under a tree and sat there. “Do you know what you’re going to wear?”
“No. Do you?”
“Uh obviously! I have the perfect outfit for Barbie. I actually planned this before coming here, minus the ‘going to camp half-blood’ cause I didn’t think I’d end up here. It’s all pink, and cute and oh, should I also do my nails? Should we do our nails all pink?” you beamed at the idea.
“No.”
“True, yours do look very good in black,” you nodded. “Oh, we could cosplay Barbie and Raquelle. But it’s not going to be accurate, Raquelle hates Barbie.”
“I think it’s pretty accurate,” she shrugs. 
You slapped her arms playfully before laying your head on her lap. The weather was nice, the sun was out and the leaves were shading you from it, the perfect combination for you to take a nap. And then Clarisse started to run her fingers on your arm which made it for you. You were asleep in no time.
“Wake up sunshine,” Clarisse pinched you lightly on the hip. You jerked awake. 
“What?” you mumbled, standing up. 
“I have to meet up with my brothers and sisters for the next Capture the Flag strategy.”
“Can I come too?” you yawned. 
“We’re not on the same team, remember.”
“I won’t tell them anything.”
“Nope,” she walked away, “don’t follow me,” she turned around, walking backwards. 
I’d follow you everywhere you go Clarisse La Rue. 
“I won’t,” you said instead. 
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The night before the date, you laid out your outfit neatly before washing up to go to bed. Cornelia was your bunkmate, with the bed above yours. But before going to sleep, you loved updating each other’s day. 
“So tomorrow huh,” Cornelia sat on your bed. “I never thought I’d live to see Clarisse being friendly with anyone other than her siblings.”
“I think she’s funny.”
“Sure, if funny was a synonym of mean. Wait– do you even have money to spend on tomorrow’s activities?” 
“Actually I do. Mr. D did tell me he wouldn’t give me any, and thank gods I found a load of cash in my backpack. My mom gave it to me. I mean she did write it was for any expense that I would have to make on my way home, but I have other priorities.”
“Clearly,” she rolled her eyes, laughing. “You’re gonna regret this in August.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
Like before any exciting day, it took some time to fall asleep. Anxiety and excitement mixing together, making up the worst and best scenarios. What if Clarisse is just messing with you and forgot? That can’t happen, you just saw her a few hours ago talking about it. What if you annoyed her so much with it, she’d stood you up? What if she doesn’t like everything you planned? Not a single positive and happy ‘what if’ comes to your mind. 
“Wake up!” someone shakes you awake. “It’s 8 already, you're going to be late!” Cornelia said. 
“Fuck!” you ran to the washroom. 
You rushed through your routine, before rushing back to your bed and grabbed your outfit, and put it on. And all of that only took 28 minutes. You looked at yourself in the mirror for a final check up, before opening the door. Clarisse was already there. Her curls free, just like the first time you saw her. It felt weird not seeing her in her usual orange tee, but she still looked pretty. She wore a simple short brown tank top with blue faded jeans, with her beaded necklace still hanging from her neck.
“You look really pretty today,” Clarisse smiled shyly, holding her arms around her.
“Thanks,” you approached her, putting your hands on her arms and leaned in, “you look pretty every day.”
“Don’t come home too late,” Lee interrupted, appearing just next to you. 
“Don’t worry, but also don’t wait up!” 
You grabbed Clarisse’s hand and dragged her away from your cabin. A taxi was waiting for you outside of the camp, and in no time you were at the local theatre in the middle of nowhere. And lucky for you, the people of this town weren’t going to see the 9:30am slot for Barbie. Except for that one couple sitting in the back. You dragged Clarisse in the middle, and sat with the popcorn and sodas. You ate in silence, watching the trailers. 
Well that was not fun. The worst ‘what ifs’ from last night came back immediately making you anxious. It was not supposed to be like this. What if she wasn’t enjoying herself. What if she was mad because she ate a salty popcorn when you asked for the sweet ones. What if she was disappointed—
“Ouch,” you looked at her, frowning, rubbing your arm. “Why did you do that?”
“You were ignoring me.”
“What? Oh I– I didn’t hear sorry.”
“I asked you, what’s the deal with Barbie anyway? Why are you so excited about a blonde, white, plastic doll?”
“W– Barbie is not– ok. She is a plastic doll, and she may not look like us but it’s the idea of Barbie, the idea that us women can be anything we want. And how in Barbie Land, it’s all about girls and women being able to be whoever they want, and have whatever jobs they want. Barbie is literally a doctor, a pilot, a model, a chef, a fashion designer, a business woman, a teacher – she has every job in the world. And there is no one telling her that she can’t do that because she’s not a man. And also, the Barbie franchise is my childhood. The movies, they deserve an Oscar honestly–,” you stopped. “Sorry, I talk too much.”
“I asked,” her attention went back to the screen. “So did you have any barbies?”
“Of course! I had Barbie's dreamhouse, and so many barbies and outfits. I’m surprised I didn’t end up being a writer with all my imagination. Did you?”
“No.”
“No?”
“My mom wasn’t the kind to buy me anything. And certainly not dolls.”
“Oh.”
“Don’t feel sad for me, I’m fine,” she gave you a quick glance.
“I’m not!” you frowned. “So you never watched Barbie and A Christmas Carol? The best Barbie movie ever?”
“Nope.”
“Oh, we have to change that. Mmh. But phones and laptops aren’t allowed though… Maybe if I bring my mom’s DVD player next summer.” 
“Already planning on your next move to woo me?” she teased, approaching you. 
Your eyes widened, your cheeks were hot.
“I– No! I– I– I don’t.”
“Relax sunshine, I’m kidding,” she laughed. 
And just then, the lights went out and the movie was about to start, thank the gods. Because you did not know what to say. The movie was incredible, you shed a few tears at the end, and sang Dance The Night with Clarisse laughing and cheering you on. It was a great experience, and it was even better to have watched it with Clarisse. 
“Did you like it?” you asked her when the credits started rolling.
“Yes. It was great.”
“And you’ll love the other Barbie movies because they are way less depressing.”
“So, what’s next?” she stood up.
“It’s almost time to eat, what do you want?”
“Whatever you want.”
“No you choose, I insist,” you smiled.
Really you were just very indecisive. Clarisse settled for a burger place not too far away from the cinema. There weren't many people inside, so you were able to choose where to sit – a table next to the window. It was a booth seat, so you had your own booth each, facing each other, menu in hand. 
“So, what are you choosing?” you asked her.
“I’ll take the Highwayman. You?”
“The Roadhouse looks good.”
Clarisse raised her hand and weaved at the waitress, when you grabbed her hand. 
“Wait!”
“What?”
“Can you order for me please?”
She furrowed her brow, but nodded. You smiled. You only waited ten-or-so minutes before the waitress came back with your food. Like always, you checked the inside of your burger before eating it, you picked out the onions and the tomato. 
“What are you doing?”
“I don’t like these.”
“Couldn’t you have asked the waitress to take them out.”
“No…”
“Give me your tomato then,” she opened her burger bun.
You were the one entertaining lunch. Clarisse asked questions about your life and you told her – you told her stories about your childhood, your school, your mom and she listened, nodding along. Once you were done, you took a cab and decided to go to the mall. 
“We don’t have any money,” Clarisse stopped you when you were going to step into the mall. 
“I do. Remember I paid for the tickets, and the food.”
“Yeah, but I thought you only had enough for these.”
“Nope. Well, remember how I said my mom is an opera singer. It was you fifty percent talent and fifty percent nepotism and generational wealth. Meaning I’m rich, I mean my mom but her love language is sending me money for not raising me,” you joked.
She stared at you, concerned. 
“I’m kidding,” you grabbed her hand, “let’s shop.”
Clarisse refused to accept anything you’d set eyes on for her. 
“Well, at least try on some of them, just to see.”
She agreed to it, which was a mistake because now that you knew her size, you could buy her everything she laid eyes on. She was trying on this dark green simple long sleeve tee shirt, and after she put it back, you took it with you.
“What are you doing?” she tried to grab the tee shirt back. 
“I might want it for myself!” you hid it behind your back. 
‘Doesn’t look like something you’d wear.”
“My style changes, it depends on my mood. Maybe I want us to have matching clothes.”
“Then why is there only one in your hand?”
You quickly grabbed another one. And then it was settled. You’d buy her things and then another copy for you – everything went, from boots to tee shirts to pants, and jackets. Then you went to a jewellery shop. You needed new rings because yours flew away from your hands during the last Capture the Flag – they were obviously a tad too big. 
“Did you find anything you like?” you asked her. 
“No, they aren't the most useful things to have.”
You pouted, and threw a bunch on the table. 
“What are you doing?”
“Putting these back on the shelves, cause I chose half of these for you,” you sighed dramatically. 
“Oh,” she took a look at the jewellery. 
Various rings and bracelets.
“They’re great, I love them.”
“No you don’t.”
“You picked them out so yes, I do.”
“You don’t have to, it’s fine,” you sighed. 
“Maybe you don’t have to buy all of it, just one of each.”
You nodded, and picked one ring for her, and two bracelets for each of you. You gave them to the seller to wrap them and left to look at other items. Clarisse soon joined you and soon enough the seller gave a little bag, you paid and left. Your hands were full of shopping bags, and before leaving you needed a little bit of rest so you two sat on the chairs in the resting area. Thankfully the mall wasn’t too crowded as it was still early in the afternoon on a random Tuesday. 
“Huh!” you gasped pointing at something behind Clarisse.
“What?” she turned around swiftly, not seeing any threat. 
“A photobooth!” you smiled.
You stood up, grabbed all of your bags and walked to the booth, hoping Clarisse was following you. You turned around, and Clarisse was still sitting still, legs crossed, leaned into the chair, staring at you. You held your hands together, and motionned her to come. She didn’t move for a good minute, but seeing how you weren’t going to move, she caved in and stood up. 
“Sunshine,” she put her hands on your shoulders, “you can look at me for free, I won’t charge you, don’t worry.” 
You rolled your eyes, smiling. 
“You’ll thank me in a few years because of this. Pictures are the best kind of souvenirs.”
Clarisse got in first, the space was a tight fit, and you were glued to Clarisse, but you two fit in the frame so it was good. You put the coins inside, and waited for it to take the picture. But that was not good enough for Clarisse – she put her arm around your waist and scooped you onto her lap.
“Better?” 
You nodded, staring at her. 
“Better,” you confirmed. 
You went to take a pose but too late, the four pictures were already taken. 
“It’s fine, we’ll take another one.”
Another turned into another few more and you ended with a ton of pictures. By the time you left the mall it was already pretty late. Almost time to go home. But neither of you wanted that, so you went to the beach instead – main beach in the east. It was empty – people at this hour were all eating. You two sat on the sand, far from the shore. 
“Did you have a great time?” you asked.
“Yes,” she looked at you, “did you?”
You nodded enthusiastically. 
“Aren’t you glad you lost that bet against me?”
“Mmh,” she shrugged, “my option would’ve been just as good for me.”
“Well, I am glad I won. I prefer this option much better.”
Clarisse started to lay down but you grabbed her arm. 
“Sand will get in your hair.”
“I’ll wash it tonight, it’s fine.”
You shook your head, and took off your blouse and laid it on the sand, behind Clarisse. She tried to protest, but you were quicker. 
“I don’t want this day to end,” you admitted, staring at the waves. “I don’t think Mr. D will give us another authorisation anytime soon,” you laughed. 
Clarisse stared at you, not saying anything. You arrived at camp only a week ago, and yet you two were already closer than she was with any of her siblings. You were nice to her, always rooting for her, and you were a great friend. Not many people were these things to the Ares kids. 
“There this field trip around October,” Clarisse sat up again, “I suppose you’re not staying around the whole year. But it’d be great if you could come.”
“A field trip? To where?”
“It’s something we do once a year at camp,” she explained. “A trip to Olympus.”
You thought about it. 
“Are you asking me to meet your father? I didn’t think we were already at this stage so early on."
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