#because that was so much more effort than just getting the actor to say it

[copia]

delighted though i am for ghost's growing success i'm keeping my fingers crossed for an obviously low-budget ghovie like the chapters before it. because the papa nihil darth vader breathing and seestor's car crash montage and the shitty nihil ghost effects and copia living in the hall outside a bathroom with no door etc all add a certain je ne sais quoi

[owlyflufff]

haikyu's dumpster batte is only going to be around 1 hour and 24 minutes, oh it's genuinely bokuakaover

[endless-ineffabilities]

chemical override (3)

Ewan Mitchell x actress!reader

series masterlist ▪︎ main masterlist

Both having busy schedules and working in different cities, the reader and Ewan make an effort to keep contact with each other. Will Ewan ever make his feelings known? Will a possible scandal derail their budding romance?

A beautiful floral arrangement awaits you as you return to your hotel suite in LA.

Luxury red roses preserved in an elegant black velvet box, accompanied by a printed note on the side.

Congratulations on your new project, darling.

All my love, Ewan.

Your assistant had alluded to a special package having arrived just before you came in, and you're met with this.

It's the loveliest of gestures and you instantly wish to call Ewan to express your thanks. However the hour is late, the digital clock face reading 10 pm. You'd had a long day at work, having gone through the entirety of rehearsals once more. Filming will officially begin in September, and your focus is much needed as you step into a new role.

Noting the time difference - it would only be around 6 am in the UK - you decide to put off calling him for tomorrow.

It's only been a week since he first confessed that he misses you, and since then, he's had no trouble saying it each time you speak, almost as if the floodgates are opened and he's more confident in expressing himself with you.

I told you, Phia had simply said when you shared this with her.

The strong possibility of Ewan harbouring feelings for you has caused you to become distracted the past few days. If he does, why hasn't he asked you out yet? Granted, you'll be working long-distance for a while, but still.

You quickly wind down from a long day and soon find yourself comfortably huddled in blankets with your laptop propped open in front of you. Winding down, of course, includes some time scrolling on your phone or watching things without a care.

A new video catches your attention on Youtube's home page. One of the segments from Ewan's Vanity Fair feature.

Ewan Mitchell on his firsts and currents

You smile to yourself before you even realise it.

The video starts with Ewan introducing himself - "Hi, Vanity Fair. I'm Ewan Mitchell and I'm here to talk about my different firsts and currents." - He smirks at the camera. You smirk right back as if he can see you.

"So first ever role?" he says, directed by prompts behind the camera. "Technically, my first ever role was for a very small, short film called Stereotype ..." He laughs, remembering how young and inexperienced he was. "... and my current role - none other than the One-Eyed Prince. So far, my favourite as well I have to say."

He continues with his first and current favourite film, pets, song or type of music to get into character... and so on...

Then he gets asked about - his first ever and his current celebrity crush - "Uhhhmm," he looks to the side bashfully, clicking his tongue as he thinks of the simplest answer, "I don't think I had celebrity crushes growing up. It could have been some of the actors I admired, that inspired me... "

Such a classic Ewan answer, that one. You wonder how he would also dodge the question of his current celebrity crush.

"As for my current crush... well... it might be someone from the cast of House of the Dragon, actually." He smiles knowingly, as if he's aware that your stomach is in knots as you watch. Who will he say? Phia? Olivia?

"I really admire ... " He says your name, and your eyes widen like saucers. "She's an amazing actress - I think we can all agree - and a very dear person to me... "

Ewan, you sneaky charming bastard.

" ... so yeah," he shrugs, nonchalantly, but he surely knows he just sent you - and the entire fandom - into a tailspin. "I guess you could say she's my current celebrity crush."

Curious, you pick up your phone and get to scrolling. You've turned all your notifications off, not wanting to become occupied because of them during work.

Sure enough, it's an endless flurry of likes, comments, and messages.

In your most recent post, tons of people comment about Ewan's interview, trying to bring it to your attention.

hotdpolska29: girl, go watch Ewan's Vanity Fair video RIGHT. NOW.

melodygellerr: be honest, is this photo for Ewan???

peraltajake99: now she has to say that Ewan's her celebrity crush too !!!

cassiethemendler: forget Ewan... guys she's acc with jacob frickin elordi. Did yall not see the pictures

There's simply too many comments to go through. One statement and already everyone has formed their own opinion, their own conclusion about how things are in your personal life. It's one of the drawbacks of being in the public eye, and you still don't fully know how to handle it.

As part of PR for your new film, you and Jacob had been tapped to make appearances in public together, photographers hired to make it seem like the two of you are on a date.

The whole thing confused you. You're friends with Jacob, and naturally you hang out with him anyway. All this celebrity subterfuge seems unnecessary. But he was kind enough to guide you through it. "It's just part of the job," Jacob assured. "This whole Hollywood thing is silly, isn't it?"

Since you're both single actors, it wouldn't hurt for people to believe you might be dating. It attracts attention and any publicity is good as they say.

As long as you know what's true, then the public can believe whatever they want.

You end up liking and responding to some comments, and ignoring most of the other ones that pry too much into your private life. Never mind the haters, who also give their own two cents about your alleged involvements with Ewan or Jacob.

Suddenly, the screen is brightened from an incoming call from Ewan One-Eye . You are still pleased with yourself about the name. Your excitement is spiked as you press answer. Having a crush never gets old.

"Mornin', you," you greet him. 11 pm for you in LA, 7 am for him in England.

"Evening, darling," he says with a smile. He's still in bed, with one hand behind his head while the other has his phone pressed to his ear. First thing in the morning, and he feels compelled to call you. If that's any indication, the boy doesn't lie when he says he misses you every day. "You about to go to bed?" he queries.

"Mhmm," you hum, lying down and mirroring his position. "By the way, I think I've got a secret admirer or something."

"What? Who?"

Struggling to hold back a laugh, you continue, "I think you're missing the point of a secret admirer."

"Yeah, yeah," he sighs. "Anyway, what's going on? Are they bothering you?" He sounds worried already, but a bit more should be fun.

"No, but I found a box from them in my room."

"Did they break in?" He sits half-upright, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "Are you okay?"

"I'm okay," you breathe out a tired laugh. "Ewan, I'm - " ... kidding, you want to confess, but he rambles on.

"If you need me, I can take the next flight out."

"Ewan - honey - I am messing with you. I do appreciate the floral arrangment box, by the way, thank you."

A beat of silence. He slumps back down on his pillows. A smile creeps up unrestrained on his lips. He fondly thinks that his girl almost gave him a heart attack at 7 am.

And he loves it.

"You're welcome," he replies. "And if I wasn't fully awake before, then I am now. Good work, darling."

You're pleased - he didn't deny the admirer bit of it all.

"Seriously now, thank you. They're the best surprise after a long work day."

"I'm glad you like them," he says sincerely. "Rehearsals still going on?"

"Yup, two more weeks of this, then a month-long break, and finally filming in Atlanta."

"Hmm," he says, then pauses, framing his next question as best he can. "Are you... do they... that PR relationship business, is that - "

You help him to it. "Well, technically, yeah," you respond. "But they're not laying it on thick with Jacob and I. Everything is alleged by the media and no one will make any sure statements."

When you shared the truth of the pap walk, he had a bunch of questions about it. He had sounded detached and cold at the beginning of that call. Then you complained about relationships for publicity, and he quickly got the gist. You'd think his mood took a complete 360 then.

From sounding completely disinterested with Jacob, Ewan then took to reassuring you that he's a good guy who would respect your boundaries. He's still not a fan of the whole thing, but it's your job.

And... well... it's not like he's your boyfriend or anything. What claim could he have over you?

"And something you said has the public divided," you add.

"What did I say?" he smirks, playing it coy.

"Ewan."

"You're going to have to elaborate, darling."

An idea pops up in your mind. Two can play at this game, Mitchell. "Listen, I'm flattered that I'm apparently your celebrity crush, but you can't say shit like that! I don't think my boyfriend Jacob would appreciate it. He's very protective, you know."

A full minute passes, you hear his heavy breathing on the other line. He wants to curse out at the picture you presented but holds back for you.

Then, "You're so funny, darling."

You laugh genuinely, and all his worries dissipate. "I know."

"A downright comedian."

"Thank you."

"I can't believe you're my celebrity crush," he sighs dramatically.

"You put that on to yourself, mate."

"Hmm." He sure did. He wasn't lying in that interview - you are his celebrity crush, but that seems reductive. He likes you, he misses you, he loves being around you. "The only right answer would have been you. You're the one I think about all the time."

He says things like this, so sweetly, and it's everything. It drives you off kilter that you get tongue-tied at work when you think about it.

But he hasn't said or done anything more. The flowers were a nice touch, sure. Maybe he's gearing up to it? Does he have something up his sleeve?

In the moment, it appears not. He's flirty, as he always is, but you've had a damn long day and the butterflies in your stomach are exhausted too.

"Ewan, I'm gonna go to bed."

"Oh. Right."

"Long day tomorrow. You know how it is."

"Of course. I... I miss you, darling. Sleep well."

"Mhmm," you find yourself responding, not mirroring his statement. "Bye, have a good day."

You end the call, wondering if he caught on at the end. Perhaps you sounded a bit too dismissive, but a voice in your head says, hey - if he wants you, he gonna have to show you. It'll take a lot more than flattery and banter to win your heart completely.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

That night in London, Ewan sits in a corner booth of a pub with Tom, Luke and Elliott and it's relatively causal, with the boys just catching up over a few pints.

Until Luke mentions you and Jacob, questioning whether that whole story was real or not.

"Absolutely not," Ewan says immediately, shifting in his Adidas tracksuit as if to take up more space so the boys will pay attention. "I talked to her about it and it's all just PR nonsense, trust me."

"Look at this one gettin' all defensive." Tom claps Ewan on the back in jest.

"Well it's true," Ewan just shrugs. "They're not together."

Elliott jumps in, eager to rile Ewan up even more. "For now at least. I've heard that these PR couple things eventually get a little too real, if you know what I mean. The lines tend to get blurred."

Ewan slings his pint back, before engaging. "What do you mean?"

"Well, look at it this way," Elliott explains. "She hangs out with the guy a lot. They laugh, dine and work together. Maybe they even have to make out several times for the film. It's easy for feelings to spring up from all that business."

"Life imitates art, innit?" Luke offers.

"Yeah, maybe soon it won't just be PR. I've heard of some celebrity couples who did that," Elliott says.

Luke adds, "Wasn't there that one PR couple that got married and all? Who was it - I can't remember now - "

Tom intervenes, wary of the way with which Ewan grips his pint glass. "That's all nonsense, come on. Surely that's not a common occurence. I worked with all you guys, and I can't stand any of ya. If anything, she'll be so sick of Jacob after they work together." That earns him a laugh from the twins, who then assign him to get the next round as payment for that jibe.

Ewan stays silent, his mind whirring. Usually, the boys wouldn't mind. They know it's just his way, being a focused and observant lad on and off set. But they sense something else underneath.

The twins share a look, a bit guilty due to Ewan's expression.

Ewan looks up and reassures the table, "Hey, it's alright. Whatever she chooses to do, I get it."

"But come on, mate," Tom says. "Everyone knows you like her. Literally everyone. Even she knows it, I bet. Why don't you just make the bloody move already?"

"I dunno," Ewan starts, not sure of the answer himself, "it just didn't seem like the right time, with her being off across the pond for the rest of the year."

"So what, you're just going to let it slide? Do you want her or not?"

"Mmm, I do." Ewan keeps to himself most of the time. But Tom's got a way to loosen his taut edges.

"Well, as promised, I'm gonna get us all another round," Tom declares, earning cheers from the twins.

Two pints turned into three, then six, seven and so on. Pretty soon, the lads get properly and well smashed. Ewan's never been the biggest drinker, but when the social situation calls for it, he can put them back just as well as the next guy from the Midlands.

"So come clean, mate," Tom drawls, his arm slung around Ewan's shoulders. "Are you in love with her already or what?"

Ewan laughs, rubbing a hand over his face to wake up a little. It doesn't work - the glare of the warm overhead lights is strong and make him feel woozy.

"Could be," he says. "But that's none of your business." Smirking, he points at Luke, "Or yours," then at Elliott, "or yours."

"Hey! C'mon," Tom protests, feigning hurt. "Am I not going to be the best man at the wedding?"

"No way, Aegon the Magnanimous," Ewan shakes his head. "My brother'll be the best man."

"So there will be a wedding," Luke says. "Does the bride know about it?"

"He hasn't even asked her out yet," Elliott teases. "I triple dare you to ask her out right now. Right fuckin' now, Ewan."

"No," Ewan says, but in his sloshed out state, he secretly considers just doing it. "I gotta go for a smoke, lads. Tom was right, I can't stand you anymore."

"Oh, boo!" Tom shoves him out of the booth. "Hurry back, lover boy."

Ewan makes his way to the alley behind the pub. He's thankful that a pub at midnight offers the perfect setting to disappear into anonymity. Everyone's just as drunk or they simply don't care about celebrity culture.

He takes a few puffs of his cigarette, the nicotine quickly reawakening his nerves. Thinking back to the twin's suggestion, he thinks, why the hell not? Why shouldn't he ask you out already? Who cares about the PR shite? If word gets around that you're his, the facade about you and Jacob will get shelved.

With his cig lodged between his teeth, he has to take extra care to call you, the glare of the screen not doing wonders for his inebriation.

The lines beeps, and he's met with your voicemail. You must still be at work or just getting off it.

Still with Jacob. Something in him stirs, and it's not just the bloody alcohol.

He clears his throat, prompted by the notification to leave a message - "Hey, darling. Hey... beautiful... I guess I'm missing you and I... I miss you, isn't that funny?" he starts, proud of himself for making the joke. "I'm out with the lads right now... had a couple of pints. Maybe one too many? I don't know. And... uhhh - "

He stomps his smoke under his shoe, nervous ticks getting the best of him. Here he goes, make it or break it. "I was thinking about you. As I always do. Because I've never felt like this about anyone before. Ever. And I'm sorry it took me this long to ask, but I want to be with you. No - that's not right, it's too quick... I mean, yes, I want to be with you, but I gotta do this right. I want to take you out, properly, on a date. Will you... will you please? I've got some business stateside and I could have that scheduled sooner, and I could come see you. And we could... I just want to see you. So fucking badly, baby. I - I - okay then, I suppose that's all. Good... good morning? No - evening. You're beautiful and I just..." he sighs deeply, because words will never do you justice. "... goodbye."

The line cuts off and he tucks his phone away. Smiling to himself, he feels euphoric from getting that off his chest. The message was coherent enough, he thinks proudly, and it couldn't have sounded better all things considering.

If he could pat himself on the back, he most definitely would. He can already see it, the perfect first date with you.

The lads are going to go nuts over this, he knows for certain. He makes his way back inside the pub, a boy renewed.

A lover boy, as Tom and Phia call him.

No truer words have been spoken.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

It's 10 pm yet again when you make it back to your suite. Having notifications on your phone turned off while you're at work, you're met with a barage of messages and the usual social media frenzy.

But only one thing stands out - a voice message from Ewan One-Eye, sent just around 4 hours ago.

You settle in for the night, making sure you're all prepped to go to bed before playing it, thinking you can maybe call him afterward.

You hear the beep, and the message starts - "Hey, darling... uhhhh so hey, I - uh fuck I'm missing you right now, must be at work eh? And I miss you - " You note how he sounds drowsy but his words are punctuated. Like he's making an actual effort to simply speak. You realise he must be drunk. What's a drunk Ewan doing calling you? " - that's so funny, innit? Which suits cause I'm just a bloody joke cause I took too long... to tell you... that I... I think about you all the time, I'mcrazyboutyou y'know... I wanna be with you... withyou - " He's drunk, you keep reminding yourself that he's drunk. But the effect of his words aren't diminished. He's got you hooked. " - I got work out there too... so I'll - uhhh - see you then and... take you out then and - fuck - kiss ya... I want to kiss you so fucking badly, baby. You're perfect for me, and so beautiful, and I wish Aemond would wed your character cause - as th'twins said - life imitates art!" He snickers at his own remark, and it's the most endearing thing ever. "So... yeah, good, darling. Goodb - " and the line cuts off.

"What the fuck," is all you can speak out into the quiet room. Lying back on your pillows, you actually laugh out loud and kick your feet like a puppy-love drunk highschooler.

The sun is rising across the pond and Ewan has probably just made it back home, immediately collapsing in his bed all wasted.

But he's getting a call tomorrow - and you pray to the fictional Westerosi gods that his intentions are clear, drunk or otherwise.

Kismet is a funny thing. Once a fan of the show, you're now an actress on it, about to date the Aemond Targaryen.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

Ewan's eyes flutter open. The sunlight is weakly coming in from the window shutters in his room. Confused, he glances at the digital clock face and it reads 6:18 PM.

So he slept through the whole day. Brilliant.

It's unlike him to mind his phone first thing after waking up, so he trudges to his bathroom to douse his face with cold water and brush his teeth for a good long while, trying to recall the events of the previous night.

It had the usual workings of a proper pub night with his lads, and he barely remembers the last night he got that sloshed. But anyway, all in good fun, and he genuinely enjoys their company so it must be worth the pounding headache he feels right now.

The lads... an unknown and possibly excessive number of pints... Oasis playing on the speakers... Tom generously buying a round of drinks for everyone in the pub... and of course, you.

The memory has his attention, and he thumbs through his phone as he makes his way to his kitchen to prep his staple black coffee with seven sugars.

He remembers it - kind of - leaving a voicemail, and he's pleased that he finally, finally asked you out. Never mind that it took him getting drunk off his noggin to do it.

But there's nothing from you. Not a message, nor a missed call, nor a voice note.

He tries not to let it worry him right away, but it does. Maybe you didn't hear it yet. Maybe you were too tired from work and weren't checking your voicemails.

Maybe... maybe...

His phone suddenly buzzes in his palm and he mumbles, fuck's sake, out of surprise. But it's not you calling. It's his publicist.

"Hello, good evening. How are you doing?" he greets cordially.

"Ewan!" she exclaims. "Finally! I've been trying to get a hold of you all day."

"Oh, right," he says guiltily, "I'm so sorry, I just had a long night and - "

"I know, Ewan, I know. The whole country - no - the whole world knows by now. Bloody hell, it's always The Sun, isn't it? Those idiots, I swear."

He straightens at that. If a tabloid is involved, it can't be good news. "What's happened?"

His publicist sighs, ready to relay the news, "The Sun did a story on you and the other cast members. About having a wild night out in the pub. It's useless fodder, really, nothing wrong with having a night out."

"Right, right... but - " Ewan says, sensing there's something more. Something worse.

"There's a picture of you with a girl - "

"What?"

"I think I've seen her before. She must be a cousin of the Tittensors? You know her, of course."

"I... I don't - "

"Anyway, according to the paper, you and her were flirting it up a storm at the pub. She had her arm around you and everything. Do you want to look it up now? I can give you a moment. I'll stay on the line."

"Fuck," Ewan mutters to himself as he does a quick search of his name. The headlines make him wish he never did so.

House of the Dragon Stars On A Wild Night Out: INSIDE SCOOP!

EWAN MITCHELL SPOTTED WITH MYSTERY LADY

Aemond Targaryen IN LOVE? See PICTURES Inside!

"I don't think I remember her," he swears to his publicist, "I was just drinking with the lads and there might have been others that joined us but I - what the fuck - I don't - "

"It's okay, Ewan," she reassures him. "We can deal with this. This bullshit just comes with the job, as you should know. It'll be fine."

No, it's not fine.

Because it dawns on him why he hasn't heard back from you.

"Fuck."

💌 next chapter

Taglist: @sprinklesprinkle888 @namelesslosers @skymoonandstardust @valyrianflower @luckyfirebasement @omgsuperstarg @elissanatok @callsignwidow @uwuuness @strbellz @sinistersnakey49 @darkwriteracademia @rhaenys-nyra @yyrzmomo @queenofshinigamis @luvaerina @shamelessblazecrown @mirandastuckinthe80s @elleinex0x0 @pierrotlu @aegonswife @cardiganlovesblog @strangersunghoon @darktrashsoulbear @lunampacheco @writer-ann-artist @gaiaea @of-swords-and-words @ateliefloresdaprimavera @m00n5t0n3 @helaenaluvr @peachysunrize @annie-ruk @luvly-writer @ananas26t @chixnugg22 @athenafaes

Not drunk Ewan thinking his voice message sounded a lot better than it did! 😂

The story will extend further than 3 parts, as it turns out! In the next one, the reader and Ewan will be reunited - any guesses on what will happen?

Comment and let me know if you wish to be added to the taglist 💕

[beetlejuicyy]

criston cole is such a female-experience coded character and it is exactly why he is hated so much hear me out

his whole character is built around the idea that rhaenyra seduced him, had taken his dignity and made him feel like her whore. his vow and his duty are close enough to the idea of women's purity and value. you were sullied, you have to marry the man that devalued you, otherwise you are spoiled and unworthy.

on top of that, his identity as a knight, as kingsguard means he is submissive. he is not seen having a lot of opinions or plans to how things are done, the big guys in the council decide and he has to obey to their orders.

on top of that, when he does act at last, it's portrayed in the form of scheming, behind the backs of people, and it's mostly attributed to his sentimental nature, to his inability to think straight, be logical because of his personal feelings. that's how women have been portrayed for centuries.

another thing that makes his character harder to grasp is the choice to have the same actor play the pre-timeskip and past-timeskip criston. 20 years have passed and yet people see him as the same person who refused to be rhaenyra's whore but now he is hypocritical because he is alicent's whore. 20 years have passed and, even if you can't see it on his face, he's bound to have changed too.

in his relationship with alicent he doesn't talk as much. he is obedient, she's the one in charge. she gets to say when and how things happen, he is just at her service.

his entire character is build up to revolve around rhenyra, like women's lives are supposed to revolve around men. if he refuses to acknowledge his status in his youth he is no longer allowed to later (after 20 years mind you) find some sort of comfort in another master. it's like saying "if you say you hate the system why take part in it"?

his pent up rage and hatred is evil, because what happened to him was behind closed doors where no one saw or heard of it. because if they knew of it he would lose everything, exactly the way women have often refrained from talking about their condition in fear of being villainized themselves. in the meantime, the one in power will keep their dignity and spotless reputation like rhaenyra is not even held accountable for having bastards pushed forward as heirs, not to mention the fling she had with criston.

this rant is in no way trying to portray criston cole as a saint or a good guy or trying to justify his behaviour. this is actually the problem with hotd, the effort to draw a line between the good guys and bad guys. have it be either balck or white. it's not, it can't be. you either have complex, morally grey characters with flaws and mistakes or you go watch marvel or something. even there villains are more humanized than in this petty effort of righteousness.

LE: thank you everyone who mentioned the aspect of criston being a man of colour from dorne and the power dynamic between a royal and a lower born who fought his way into the world! this rant was written in a rush and while i couldn't express the latter as eloquently as most of you in the tags/comments, i completely overlooked the former. i love looking through everyone's tags and comments and seeing your takes. as @jazzyclarinet pointed out in the comments, seeing criston's character in this light does not erase or diminish the injustice other women in the story experience.

on another note, i feel like part of the blame is on the way hbo marketed the season with the pressure to pick a side. however, i think what we've been lacking as a society in the post covid years is actual unbiased analysis of art. swallowing up content without any question and making said content a personality trait is harmful. as i said, i don't like criston as a character, but i can make these points about him simply because i watch the show critically and i don't blindly defend a character while trashing another.

[kelseytheballerina]

hot take but like, if you have to read guides and buy books and take a course on the type of personality you want to embody, I think it’s safe to say that it just isn’t you. you shouldn’t have to study for your personality or vibe or whatever. you shouldn’t have to listen to 10 hour manifestation audios while you sleep. if you’re not that person then you’re not that person.

a lot of you treat these things as if you’re an actor studying a role to perform and that can come in handy in certain cases, for example wanting to appear more relaxed or confident when you have a presentation coming up and you’re naturally meek. that’s different. or maybe there’s a part of you that already is there but you just want to allow yourself to pull it out more because you were taught to suppress it and you’re no longer in an environment that forces you to hide it and maybe you need help getting comfortable being free finally. that’s different. I’m talking about trying to stuff yourself into being a femme fetale sex bomb when you simply aren’t that kind of girl at your core. all the black dresses and heels in the world won’t make you as sexy as someone who naturally has that. doesn’t mean you can’t get closer, but you know.

I understand being drawn to certain types of women and wanting to emulate those traits and wishing that you could embody their energy, but studying these long guides and videos as if you’re taking a college class won’t do much more than make you feel like you’re putting on a performance and when you’re alone, you’ll be ready to metaphorically take off your wig, kick off your heels, and get into your pajamas bc it will be exhausting pretending to be someone you’re not for so long. even celebs you look up to who have molded themselves into a new woman we admire weren’t like that all the time because it was a performance. Marilyn had to turn that on like a switch. Beyonce has to get into Sasha Fierce mode and it takes a lot of effort.

if you are interested in adopting new personalities for whatever reason, I think maybe just keep in mind that the real you will always be there underneath and you will always be putting on airs. Marilyn was still Norma Jean under it all. Anna Nicole may have looked glamorous in her Guess ads but she was still Vickie Lynn under it all. I suppose there can be perks to playing a character, just maybe don’t get too wrapped up in it, remember that there are limitations to how much you can really change on a deep level, and maybe just learn to be okay with who you really are and make the most of that instead as it will ultimately be what you are most comfortable and natural at.

there’s a reason that after all the studying, you still aren’t her. it’s because you’re not like her and that’s okay

[moon1833]

Haikyuu! Boyfriend headcannons! Part 2

Seijoh, Nekoma, and Fukurōdani

IWAIZUMI

Unrequited/requited love/miscommunication (sorry)!

Had class together.

Thought you were one of Oikawa’s fan girls trying to get closer to him for his best friend at first since Oikawa was right next to him.

You genuinely just didn’t know what the homework was.

Had no idea he was even on the volleyball team until you heard him talking to his friend in class.

He always thought you were beautiful, but he didn’t bother attempting anything.

You started talking to him in class a little, but he was still unsure about your intentions.

You thought it was funny how he was always yelling at his friend.

The first time you laughed at Iwaizumi calling him “Shitty-kawa” he completely froze up from shock.

Knew he was in too deep at that point.

He told Oikawa about his feelings for you and he took at as an opportunity to get to know you, too.

You thought he was nice, but you were interested in Iwaizumi.

Asked Oikawa to help set you up

He took match making very seriously.

However, Iwaizumi saw you two talking and texting more and just assumed he was right all along.

Started a rift between him and Oikawa, Iwaizumi confronted him eventually.

Oikawa came clean about everything.

Iwaizumi told him he wanted to get to know you at your own pace but he appreciates the effort.

He starts talking to you more.

Knowing you liked him made him insanely nervous he could barely string a sentence together.

Oikawa didn’t tell you that he knew you liked him.

He invites you to a game.

You’re cheering for him as loud as you can since everyone else was cheering for Oikawa.

“He’s overrated.” You told him after the game. “I thought you were much more interesting to watch.”

He almost kissed you right there in the middle of the gym, ignoring Oikawa complaining about how ‘mean’ you were to him.

Asked you if you wanted to grab ice cream after the game.

You say yes obviously.

You spent at least 15 consecutive minutes telling him how awesome the game was.

He was bright red the whole time.

Slyly bought your ice cream before you could even think about getting your wallet.

“There’s a little ice cream on your face.”

“Oh,” you wipe your face, embarrassed. “did I get it?”

“Can I?” you nod.

He takes his thumb and wipes the bottom of your lips (there was no ice cream on your face).

You closed the distance, unable to handle how he was looking at you

Ice cream was suddenly his favorite dessert.

Favorite past time as a couple was making fun of Oikawa (who insisted on third wheeling both of you).

Light PDA as much as he can.

Hand on your thigh whenever you’re sitting next to each other, or around your shoulder.

He loves showing you off.

He’s very gentle with you.

Kisses your face all the time whenever you’re cuddling.

OIKAWA

Fake dating/drunk confessions (very slight grumpy x sunshine if you squint)!

You were team manager for Seijoh.

You had no problem with Oikawa, but it did annoy you that you had to deal with the swarm of fangirls almost every day.

You had an intimidating aura, so they backed off when you were around.

He wouldn’t admit it, but the girls approaching him daily bothered him too more than it flattered him.

He also felt bad constantly rejecting girl after girl because he wanted to focus on volleyball.

He proposed the idea of a fake relationship to you.

You were opposed to it at first, you didn’t want to get killed by a crazy fangirl.

He said he “wouldn’t let that happen.”

You told him if it was up to him to protect you, you were screwed.

He asked you to think it over.

You weighed your options, you were constantly hit on from other teams and decided it’d be a good idea.

He hugged you and lifted you up when you told him.

Decided the only people who would know it was fake was Iwaizumi.

Which meant even in practice you had to pretend.

Oikawa was a good actor, he was constantly wrapping his arms around you and kissing the top of your head.

It was hard to stay unbothered by it and make it seem like it was normal.

Iwaizumi almost forgot it was fake.

Oikawa had just gotten used to kissing your cheek goodbye, he kept doing it even when no one was around.

He started realizing he was developing real feelings for you after you showed up to practice in his jacket with his name on it.

Even though it was planned, it was impossible for him to think about anything but you in his clothes for a few nights.

You realized you were falling for him when he fell asleep on your head while sitting next to you on the bus after a game.

He smelled good.

At a house party celebrating another win for Seijoh, you both showed up together.

You both drank a little too much, and the casual arm around your shoulder as you both spoke to the group on the couch had you leaning into him.

As more people sat down around you both you ended up on his lap.

He sneakily kept kissing your neck.

Got to a point where you were dragging him somewhere deeper into the house.

Momentarily thought you were about to chew him out or that he overstepped.

Last thing he was expecting was for you to use his collar to bring his face to your level and kiss him, backing him against a wall.

“I wish this was real.” He mumbled practically into your mouth.

“Look around.” You replied, running your hands through his hair. “Who am I faking this for?”

Neither of you forgot the next morning.

However, you were too scared to talk about it with him.

Regardless, Oikawa showed up at your door at 10 in the morning (as soon as he woke up) with breakfast and coffee.

You had just finished throwing up and wanted to again at the sight of him in your kitchen with his glasses.

He admitted he was starting to want a real relationship with you, but understood if you didn’t mean anything by your actions last night.

“If I didn’t feel like I was dying right now I’d kick you.”

Started dating for real after that.

He is always tickling you.

CONSTANT PDA.

If you thought it was bad before it’s even worse now.

His fangirls cannot stand you so he’s always with you.

Always a hickey on his neck.

He purposely wears shirts that reveal it.

BOKUTO

Opposites/tutor x student!

You had Trig together.

You sat in the back of the room and never really spoke.

Bokuto would ask questions so frequently the teacher would call on him even if he didn’t raise his hand.

Class would laugh at him but he genuinely didn’t understand the work.

Your teacher offered you (who was at the top of the class) to tutor him for extra credit.

You agreed.

The first time he came to the library for your first session he loudly declared how pretty you were.

You were caught off guard, flushing red as Bokuto apologized.

Found out that he just had a short attention span but he could focus if he really tried.

Constantly changing the subject to talk to you.

Started walking you to class (he was late to his own classes)

Begged you to come to his matches.

Out of curiosity you did (you wanted to see him play).

He shouted your name and waved at you the moment you walked in, telling his entire team you were here.

He was on 1000% the whole time, showing off as much as he could.

Ran up to you as soon as the game was done to ask you if you thought he played well.

Akaashi came to pull him back, apologizing.

You called him that night to tell him he played well.

Ended up on the phone with him until 4am.

Continued to tutor him, even though he eventually got kicked out of the library for being too loud.

Now studied at his house or yours.

He did not get any work done when he was in your room for the first time (he hadn’t seen you in comfy clothes before, either).

Purposefully left his hoodie at your house so you’d have to visit him at practice and give it back to him.

Partially wanted you to keep it.

When he passed his trig test for the first time, you hugged him from excitement.

He was so excited he picked you up and spun you around.

You volunteered for the summer training camp as a nurse (Bokuto asked you to with puppy eyes).

He would purposely get hurt so you’d have to help him.

Would get dramatically jealous if you were tending to another guy.

Kuroo flirted with you in an attempt to get Bokuto to admit that he liked you.

Bokuto just scooped you up and walked away.

When wrapping his fingers for the third time even though he didn’t need it, he asked you to “kiss it better”.

You rolled your eyes at him before kissing his cheek.

“If this will stop you from jamming your fingers intentionally, then sure.”

Ran back into the gym yelling to Kuroo that you kissed him.

You fell asleep on his shoulder on the way home.

It was the longest anyone on the team had seen him be quiet.

At your next study session, you’d rearward him for each question answered correctly with another kiss on the cheek.

Suddenly was an academic weapon.

Would giggle after each one.

Gently kissed him on the lips that day at the end of the worksheet you made for him.

Ended up on your bed.

He talks about you to everyone.

Asked you if he could be your boyfriend.

Loves to lay on top of you.

You’re the only person who could get him out of “emo mode”.

He loves picking you up.

AKAASHI

Childhood friends to lovers/young love!

You met Akaashi when you were in elementary school, you were seat buddies.

You were both on the quieter side, he was overall introverted while you were just nervous.

Bonded over a box of crayons.

You came out of your shell more as you got older.

Were inseparable.

Always holding his hand.

Everyone always teased you two.

We’re each other’s first kisses at the age of 10 because you wanted to know what it felt like.

Supported him more than anyone else through volleyball.

He knew he always liked you, but didn’t want to compromise the friendship.

Bokuto convinces him to confess.

You return his feelings to his surprise.

You were both young (in middle school) when you told each other you had feelings for each other, so you didn’t really seriously date for a few years.

Maybe argued once in your whole relationship.

He’s very understanding.

Knows you better than you do.

He proposes right after graduation.

Long engagement because you’ve “waited this long”.

We’re practically married before you were married.

Bokuto’s your practice kid.

KUROO

Fated lovers!

Met him by ‘accident’.

Your cat had run out your front door, you were looking for him.

You find him nuzzled into some guys arms at the park he usually ran off to.

You’re so happy you found him you almost forget to thank Kuroo, who found your cat.

He thought that was cute.

You’re walking away, still talking to your cat before you noticed his presence.

You bowed, thanking him repeatedly.

He wanted to ask for your number right then and there but you were already running off.

Went to the same school, but Nekoma was so big you never saw him before.

Ran into him one morning on the train.

He gave up his seat for you to sit, and you spent the rest of the trip talking to each other.

Gives you the nickname “Kitty”.

You hate it (you love it).

Introduces you to Kenma, who takes a liking to you.

Kuroo gets jealous of how much nicer he is to you than him.

Started walking to the train station together every morning.

You fall asleep on him almost every time.

He’s worried you’re not sleeping well now (you will not hear the end of it).

One morning, there was no room to sit so you were both forced to stand, using the pole for balance.

Someone knocks into you, sending you roughly into Kuroo.

He snaps at the person who shoved you to watch it before holding you by the waist protectively.

You couldn’t string a thought together for a few moments.

The SMOOTHEST in asking you out.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“No, you won’t.” You tilt your head at him in confusion. “It’s Friday.”

“I know, I’ll pick you up at 3. Dress cute.”

Took you to a cat cafe because he just “had to”.

Holds your hands through crowds or has a hand on the small of your back.

Very gentlemanly.

You kiss his cheek when telling him goodnight.

Thinks about it all weekend.

The next time he sees you he kisses you as soon as he gets close enough to “even the score”.

Shows you off whenever he possibly can.

Always standing behind you with a hand on your waist.

Extremely ticklish.

Like all you have to do is poke his side and he’s squealing.

You use that to your advantage.

Absolutely showers you in gifts.

[queenof3ferrets]

I don’t think people realize how deep Vil’s character goes. Like-REALLY realize it.

I am an aspiring writer, and I would say I have quite the keen eye so when I see people talking bad about Vil—-I get confused.

YES he seems harsh and pushy. And YES he doesn’t seem to act very nice around people sometimes and he acts cocky 24/7.

But there’s a difference between cocky and knowing your worth. Vil KNOWS his worth. And he isn’t just going to hide it because someone says so. Or because it’s easier to be modest and quiet.

And it’s what Vil is constantly encouraging others to do: to not hide.

But Vil also knows how harsh the world is. An actor can be one of the most hated people in the world because they’re constantly being filmed and people jump on their mistakes like lions hunting a limping giraffe.

So he KNOWS that a glass heart will get someone nowhere.

It’s why he acts so tough. And it’s why he gives tough love to others. If he never teaches his dorm members how to survive they’ll roll over and get killed the moment they step onto the field.

Hence, his harsh actions with Epel.

When Epel cries and storms off, Vil doesn’t scold him for it. He tells Epel to show him if he can hold his ground with his words. And how beauty is a weapon to be wielded well.

Vil scolds Epel when he calls dancing ‘feminine’ or ‘girly’ because he knows that mindset will get the boy nowhere. Vil knows beauty isn’t limited only to the female spectrum and tries to get others to see it as well.

It’s why Vil is so annoyed when Epel skips his routine but also because having a routine and ACTUALLY sticking to it is the hardest thing for some people. And Vil talks about this. (When you log in for the day and you get a reward, Vil LITERALLY talks about how routine and effort is the hardest part about beauty) and if you do keep up the effort it gives rewards.

But Vil also knows not all effort is repaid kindly.

That’s the whole reason he overblotted, basically. He felt inferior because no one saw him put in as much effort as he himself did, and people have the gall to scold him for it. That, or they overlook him for something they thought was better(Neige).

When I write, I don’t EVER want to hear someone I TRUSTED say that my work was second best to another author or that my way of writing was wrong and I should have to change it. Because I put time and effort into writing and it’s something I’m proud of. I put my soul into my writing and it honestly really hurts when someone does the exact things I mentioned before. And I’m sure Vil felt the same way.

Not to mention Vil has been through rough things in his childhood. Other children wanted to hurt him because of his talent for acting just because he played a part in a series too well and they couldn’t tell the difference. Adults never thought he could be a hero because he was too perfect and self-confident. Adults wanted someone like Neige to be the hero because he looked pretty and acted kind. (Basic protagonist things)

And Vil hated it. He gained traumas at a young age because other people alienated him. He grew to hate Neige because in the people’s eyes he was perfect and beautiful. And he grew obsessed with beauty because he didn’t think he was good enough for the hero roll.

His overblot was overdue at this point. Sure his actions should not be immediately forgiven, just like all the other overblotters actions, but they’re NEVER entirely to blame.

Because all of the boys who overblot were victims too. Not just Yuu or the others. They were hurting themselves just as much as others were.

And I hate it when someone like Vil is seen as a overly harsh person. Or someone like Leona who is only seen as lazy. There is so much more to them than that.

Vil respects people.

Vil sees how hard the people around him work.

Vil tries his best to show others their beauty in his way.

Vil knows that gems need to be polished from rocks before they can be embedded into a crown. But the work put in to get the gems ready is rough and long. And sometimes it looks harsh.

Vil learned his lesson after his overblot. There is no need to hang it over his head like blackmail. The same goes for the other overblot characters.

Riddle learned his lesson.

Leona learned his lesson.

Azul learned his lesson.

Jamil learned his lesson.

Vil learned his lesson.

Idia and Ortho learned their lessons.

[wyattjohnston]

closer than i ever even knew - quinn hughes

summary: quinn saves the day and goes mini-golfing

word count: 1.1k

note: happy belated birthday @fallinallincurls! this is much, much shorter than i anticipated and i hope it's short but sweet. muchas gracias to @offside-the-lines <3

bingo: friends to lovers | witty banter | fake dating | it’s always been you

It starts, like any good romance movie does, with an event she doesn’t want to go to and a friend willing to save the day.

The event isn’t even big or fancy, which makes the whole thing so funny. She’s under no obligation to bring anyone, let alone a romantic partner, but, during the busiest hour of her week, a coworker had asked if she was going to, and the ‘yes’ had slipped from her mouth before she’d even realised it was happening.

Thus, Quinn Hughes was playing mini golf at a "team bonding" event her company decided was a good idea.

Her intention hadn’t been to earn any brownie points by bringing him—he had volunteered himself, after all—but the second they arrived and her boss spotted Quinn Hughes, Captain of the Vancouver Canucks, she immediately grouped them with her, her wife and the next nearest couple.

They wasted no time in heading to the first hole, her boss taking the lead and making sure they weren’t stuck behind anybody else. Which turned out to be a good thing because Quinn was taking practice swings with the putter.

She rolled her eyes as she asked, “Are you taking this seriously, or are you having fun?”

“Are we on a team?”

“No, it’s individual.”

“Then I’m taking it seriously,” Quinn answered easily. “No way am I letting you win.”

The questions came through shortly after they started, nosing in on the relationship lie that resulted in Quinn joining them for the day. Well, they weren’t aware that it was a lie, of course.

Luckily for her, Quinn was all too happy to do the talking.

The lingering looks and touches had her wondering why Quinn pursued hockey when he would have been just as successful as an actor. Even though he was determined to win, the simple repositioning of her hands on the putter and the minute correction of the position of her hips were leaving her short of words.

“Is this good enough for you, Captain?” she called over her shoulder, teasing Quinn as she lined up for her next shot. The wiggle in her hips was joking—mostly involuntary even—but it immediately drew Quinn’s eyes, even though he was mid-conversation.

“You’ve got great form, babe.”

A wink accompanied the sentence and she had to look away so that her blush wouldn’t be seen by her coworkers. Or by Quinn.

It did mean that she turned around and focused on her putting, leading to a nice hole-in-one.

At various points throughout the afternoon, Quinn’s hand found hers. Their fingers intertwined in a perfect fit, and it took all her power to not act like it was a strange occurrence; she desperately wanted to get out of her head and enjoy those moments while they lasted.

Her boss, finally taking a break from talking about hockey, asked about how they met. The looks sent Quinn’s way were a discrete panic, but he didn��t seem to be facing the same problem.

“We had the same routine running the Sea Wall—seemed like fate that we kept running into each other when my schedule’s so chaotic, you know?” he answered, providing an entirely accurate retelling that had her shocked he hadn’t opted for something a bit more romantic. “She literally fell for me.”

“Me?” she nearly screeched, any confusion she was feeling or fluttering in her stomach was immediately overtaken by incredulity. “You tripped over a dog lead!”

“You distracted me, what can I say?”

There was some cooing that followed, and Quinn refused to make eye contact despite the cocky smile on his face. It was becoming increasingly difficult to tell whether it was all just for show.

Her boss ended up winning, after a lot of effort and a competitive nature that would rival anybody Quinn played with or against. She and Quinn shared many sideways glances with raised eyebrows at just how competitive she was.

The world stopped spinning when Quinn leaned in and whispered directly into her ear, “Still beat you, though.”

As they were leaving, Quinn took her hand again. It was so casual that she wasn’t sure any thought had gone into it at all—and with nobody looking their way, it did nothing to heighten their ruse. She glanced down at their hands, too distracted to even say a proper goodbye as Quinn earnestly told everyone he hoped to see them again soon—that also added to her confusion.

The streets of Vancouver were deeply familiar, etched into her brain from a young age with every slight raise in the concrete committed to muscle memory, so she knew that they were headed towards the water and away from either of their apartments the second Quinn chose a direction. The Sea Wall surrounding the city was her favourite part of it with nothing else even coming close.

“Weird time for a run?” she asked. She wiggled her fingers just to test the pressure. Quinn squeezed back. “I don’t want to go for a run right now.”

“Nobody is going for a run,” he said gently. “I didn’t even want to be going for runs but I saw you on that first day and kept going out just in case I’d see you again.”

She screwed up her face, the disbelief that ran through her had her pulling her hand from Quinn’s and huffing, “Don’t be stupid.”

“How am I being stupid?” There was a tinge of hurt in his voice that she so rarely heard; she felt it right in her chest.

“I don’t know, Q. I just don’t believe you went out of your way to find me. That’s not…” Her voice was muffled by the sound of the water rushing against the Sea Wall. “That doesn’t happen in real life. To me.”

Quinn stared at her, seemingly taking in every inch of her face, and she could only imagine the expression she was making. If she looked as pathetic as she felt, she would need to make sure she never saw him again.

“It’s happening to you.” he stressed. “Today was… Today… I’d like today to be every day.”

She had so many things she wanted to say but no ability to make them come out of her mouth. She felt no less pathetic than she did a moment earlier, though she did feel a little more hopeful. It had been a good day, even if confusing, and she’d be lying if she said she hadn’t been wanting something similar since they first met years prior.

“Why don’t you believe me?”

“Because you’re Quinn Hughes? Because you’re the Captain of the Vancouver Canucks? We’ve just spent the entire day with your ass being kissed—you could have your pick of any woman in Vancouver. We’ve been friends for like, what? Three years now and you’ve never—”

“I am now. I don’t want anybody else. I want you. It’s always been you.”

i would very much love to hear your thoughts if you have any, and would love if you'd reblog and share it with some more people <3

[urdreamgirls-dreamgirl]

imagine: it’s been years since Eddie and Steve have seen each other. Eddie still keeps in touch with the Party, with Robin and Nancy and Jonathan and Argyle, but for whatever reason, neither him nor Steve have made a massive effort to stay in touch. Eddie can’t help but feel like he maybe had missed out on something, that he’d been too quick to leave, too quick to write it off as unimportant, meaningless, a fleeting crush. It’s okay. It’s fine now.

Because Eddie has the life he’s always dreamed of. He travels the world, gets paid to play his guitar in front of crowds that scream his lyrics back at him, dates celebrities, and sees things he couldn’t have even imagined back in that Hawkins trailer park. He doesn’t regret much. He can’t, when everything has led him here.

He’s just released his third studio album and it’s been a commercial and critical success. He’d tried something a little different with this project, something a little outside his comfort zone. He’s never been known for his love songs, but he couldn’t help himself this time. He just had so much he’d never had the chance to say until now.

Eddie loves the Grammys. It’s a fun night, full of fellow musicians who care deeply about what they do. He’ll never get used to being in the same place as his idols, the voices he used to listen to when he’d dream of getting the hell out of small-time, small town Indiana.

He’s got a date on his arm this year, a handsome actor who’d just had a film premier in Venice. Eddie loves the attention, knows the fans are speculating about which songs on the new album are about Rob and their relationship. It’s not hard to act like they’re in love; Rob is beautiful, tanned and golden and smiling big for the cameras. It’s easy to fuel the rumors, to make eyes at each other like they think no one is looking. Eddie lives for this kind of thing, loves to put on a show. He kisses Rob right there on the red carpet, like he doesn’t care who’s watching them, like he just can’t help himself.

He’s up for a whole bunch of awards tonight. Album of the Year, Song of the Year, Best Metal Performance…. Eddie’s skin is buzzing, a dull thrum of excitement just under the surface.

Halfway through the ceremony, Eddie wins his first award for his performance in Las Vegas earlier in the year on tour promoting the new album. He doesn’t have a speech prepared, hadn’t wanted to jinx anything by over-preparing, and now he’s nervous he’ll forget someone and not have another chance to tell the world how he’s gotten here.

Eddie’s smiling big when he takes the stage. His face feels stretched, his cheeks hurting. He feels like his body can’t hold all his excitement inside him, all the feelings of love and amazement that threaten to burst through his skin.

He thanks Wayne and the Party first, clutching his trophy in his sweaty fist. They’re the ones that really got him here, the ones that made him believe he was worth saving. The ones that made all this possible.

Then he thanks his management. His agents and producers and tour managers, all the people that make the logistics of touring possible, that give him the ability to do what he loves.

There’s one last person to thank. His PR team had told both him and Rob to lean into the relationship, to embrace the spectacle, and there was nothing Eddie loved more than performing for a captive audience. He looks out into the crowd and finds Rob smiling up at him from his seat. He looks perfect, tan and beautiful, and it reminds Eddie of someone he used to know.

“And to the man who’s inspired every song on this album,” he feels his lips spread into another smile, sees the camera from the corner of his eye and imagines how goofy he must look on screen. He wonders who might be watching, if the person he’s been thinking about for the last ten years even knows he’s winning an award right now. “Stevie baby, thank you, darling.”

There are confused grumbles from the crowd and for just a second, Eddie doesn’t understand. But then he glances at where Rob sits in the crowd, his smile plastic and forced, and he realizes what he’s said. The wrong name. The name of a ghost. The name of a person who only exists for him in his memories.

Eddie’s legs feel numb. His chest starts to ache and his hands feel hollow. Horror spreads through him as he hears the music start to play. The presenters gently usher him backstage, push him toward the darkness, away from the cameras. He stands there out of sight for several moments, frozen, rooted to the spot he’s been left in, before a familiar figure steps into his eye-line.

“Eddie,” Rob says, sounding both surprised and irritated. “What the fuck?”

the question pounds my head, what’s a lifetime of achievement if i pushed you to the edge but you were too polite to leave me? do you miss the rogue that coaxed you into paradise and left you there? will you forgive my soul when you’re too wise to trust me but too old to care?

part one

[finniestoncrane]

Pornstar!Cooper Howard x Fem!Reader, multi-part au fic cooper howard is a former actor, novice pornstar, and current wasteland escort. reader mistakes him for a bounty hunter and ends up getting far more entwined in his lifestyle than they intended in a bid to get what they need from the first 'kind' person they've met in a long time🤎

☢️ Chapter 2: Misunderstanding, word count: 4.7k reader is just about the simplest, sweetest thing that's ever gone on a journey to find a bounty hunter who can get revenge for her. unfortunately, she doesn't find the bounty hunter she was looking for. fortunately, she finds cooper howard instead, which i think we can all agree is a blessing Chapter 1 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: unprotected sex but cooper can't get you pregnant and i doubt any diseases can survive in his blood stream, lil bit of angst, one night stand with feelings, fairytale style connections here like pussy so good it has a man questioning the existence of soul mates

Your feet were no longer willing to participate, and you found that much of your energy was going towards convincing your lower half to keep going, even at the painfully slow pace you were struggling to keep. Trudging along what was left of the highway, you wondered how much of the difficulty was physical, and how much of it was the mental block. Because for all the effort it had taken you to get this far, with the end goal in sight you were beginning to reconsider.

What were you even going to say when you found the man you were looking for? 

“Hi, I’m looking to hire a bounty hunter, and I’m told you’re the best.”

Far too formal. Almost pleading. He’d know you were someone he could take for a ride immediately.

“Hello. Are you a bounty hunter? The famous one?”

That sounded like you were about to ask for his autograph before you asked if he could take on your job.

“What’s up, good sir. Are you by any chance willing… to… do…”

“Fuck.”

You’d had this entire journey to figure out what you were going to say, and now you were so close to reaching the settlement marked on your map and you were, if anything, less prepare than before.You couldn’t even blame it on distractions, because aside from a few standard dangers, it had been smooth sailing. A small mercy you were incredibly grateful for during the journey. And yet, instead of putting that time to good use, you had daydreamed your way along broken highways, beating the occasional radroach to death with your tire iron, and willfully ignoring what you had set out to do.

It just seemed so dangerous. So seedy. 

But unfortunately necessary.

Four times in the past three months, your quiet settlement had been attacked by raiders. Crops were destroyed and stolen, four brahmin were killed, and almost all of your prized possessions had been taken. It was only by sheer luck that they’d missed your stash of caps under the floorboards, and you’d vowed to use that to get your revenge. It was only this deep, burning desire for justice that had kept you going the past few days. Walking and walking and walking, interspersed only with fitful, uncomfortable sleep. You’d barely eaten, barely drank anything, and you were running low on supplies. But the signs for the next settlement were there on the walls, ushering you in, promising you food, rest and a solution to your problems. 

That was if you could convince the solution to do what you needed. 

And that itself hinged on your ability to recognise the bounty hunter.

“Oh, you’ll know him when you see him.”

That’s what the mayor of your settlement had told you. And what kind of advice was that? 

It’s not like there was a uniform they all wore. And as far as attitude went, what were you supposed to look out for? Handy with a gun and a cruel, cut throat demeanour? That was everyone in the Wasteland.

As you entered the large town, a settlement thriving somehow, you decided the bar was the best place to start your search, and the lure of having a drink, surrounded by voices and music, was far too enticing. There was nothing like that back home. Travelling traders and the makeshift common house was as close as it came to any kind of socialising or excitement. And while you were here on business, and rather serious business at that, you felt like you deserved a reward, a little bit of something to look forward to.

The bar gave everything that you hoped. The minute you walked through the door, you were quickly distracted by a fight that had just broken out. It was stopped by someone you assumed was working security who smashed the heads of the two men involved against the table, and then carried them through to a back room, one over each shoulder. A few people looked up from their drinks or away from their conversations to take you in, none of them settling for too long. This was a trading town, strangers came in and out all the time, you weren’t special here. You blended in. It felt nice, actually, not to draw too much attention. 

Sidling up to the bar, you asked for a water, deciding that quenching your thirst was a better option than beer, and settled into your crooked, wobbling stool. You couldn’t help but smile as you sipped at your cup and looked around the place. As dark as the reason you were here was, it felt like it had given you purpose, meaning. You were on a noble quest. The excitement was dulled, however, as you looked to your left and noticed the man beside you. Only then did the seriousness of your journey settle back in, heavy on your shoulders. 

The stranger next to you had shielded most of his face with a worn cowboy hat, one that was frayed and aged, but his skin was still visible, telling of his kind. A ghoul. The scars that marred his cheeks, sunken eye sockets, and no nose to make up his side profile. He was sipping at a dark liquid in a chipped glass, holding it with gloved hands. His body was covered mostly by a tattered duster jacket, but below it there was a glimpse of blue and gold, hidden under a thick, leather waistcoat. 

He certainly looked the part. The thought made you feel guilty, as though you had judged him based on his looks alone, but that was all you had to go on. Either this was the man you were looking for, or he was bound to know where to find that person. So you took the risk and tapped on his shoulder. 

Immediately, you understood that you had made a mistake, as his dark, brown eyes focused in on you, his lips curling into a sneer. 

“I will be polite, since you look like fresh meat, but do not touch me.”

“I-I’m so sorry, I just-”

He put up a hand, silencing you. 

“I only speak by appointment, darlin’.”

As he turned back to staring into the space in front of him, you decided you’d already come far enough not to push, just a little. Besides, the attitude, the way he spoke, the suggestion that he took on appointments. You were so certain that he was the man you were here to speak to.

“Well… you don’t look too busy right now…”

“You got ten seconds before I take this glass and make an awful mess of you.”

“I want to hire you! Please, just… Can I buy you a drink, Mr…?”

He looked down into his glass, almost empty except for one large gulp, which he swallowed with a sigh before he pushed the glass forward.

“Name’s Cooper.”

“Cooper. So…?”

“Whisky.”

“Whisky. Right. Thank you!” 

Cooper watched as you attempted to make your voice heard over the noise of the patrons in the bar, intrigued by you, far more than he would have liked to admit. Usually, clients were all the same. In town for the night, passing through, a regular. It didn’t matter, they were all there for a reason, and they wanted to get straight to the point of it. He preferred that. No beating around the bush, at least not until they had paid him. 

“Here you go! He said that was the best they had… it was expensive, so I hope he’s right.”

Eyeing the liquid, Cooper swirled it and grimaced, and when he raised his glass to drink, you copied him. The swig was lodged in your throat, a burning, painful taste that lingered at the back of your tongue and had you coughing and spluttering. From beside you, you could hear Cooper’s cruel chuckling, finally smiling, albeit at your expense.

“What’s so funny? What? Do you actually like the taste of this?”

“Oh, darlin’, don’t get yourself all worked up. I just find it amusing that someone like you would want to hire someone like me, that’s all.”

“And why is that?”

Cooper sighed, setting the glass down on the bar and turning in his stool to look you in the eyes. His gaze was intense, his eyes soulful, deep, focused.

“I just don’t think you’re lookin’ for what it is I can offer you.”

“Really? Well, what is it that you can offer me then, and I’ll tell you whether or not I can handle it.”

With a wry smile, Cooper nodded towards the bartender.

“Why don’t you go rent a room and I can tell you all the things I can offer you.”

That settled it for you. He was definitely the guy you were looking for, or at least, the kind of guy you needed. Secretive, trying to act threatening, scarier than he might be, to let you know how dangerous he was. He would be perfect. So you smiled back, hopping off your stool to go and speak to the bartender who gave you a key and a room number. By the time you had turned back around, Cooper was already making his way to the corridor, and you rushed to catch up to him. 

“Room number… five.”

“That’s a nice one, in the centre of the hallway, so it’s kept warm.”

“Uh…huh…”

He seemed to know it well, the whole space, as he confidently took the key from you, opened the door, and ushered you inside. That certainty with which he held himself, the confidence that flowed out of him, it was so oddly enticing. And as he settled himself down in a chair in the corner of the room and lit up a cigarette, you realised that you found him quite attractive. Bravery, danger, those soulful eyes that held what you could only imagine were decades upon decades of secrets, of history. Plus, despite his cold demeanour, he was oddly charismatic. You assumed that’s how he got by in this town, or any settlement. Usually, ghouls weren’t welcome, but Cooper seemed like the kind of man who could charm his way into anywhere. 

“So, what is it that you think I can do for you, sweetheart?”

You’d been staring at him blankly for a minute or so, watching as he commanded the space, relaxing himself into it. If he didn’t have years of being a fetishised novelty to back him up, he could have sworn that you seemed genuinely attracted to him. It had been so long since someone had looked at him like that, a blush on their cheeks, taking in his personality as well as his scarred and interesting body. 

Truthfully, he was looking forward to this himself. He’d have been lying to himself if he denied that you were his type. A little naive, sweet and cheerful, perfectly corruptible. But it was more than that. Your eyes seemed gentle, understanding. A trait that was hard to find these days. A look of the past about you, likely your upbringing. Those smaller settlements up in the hills were generational, clutching to what their ancestors had known before, living on kindness and the American spirit. THe nostalgia settled in his gut as he took you in. 

“Ok, so! Raiders.”

“... Raiders?”

He raised his brow, questioning you silently. It had been a long time since someone had asked for any roleplay in their encounter with him, and he could hear the jingling of caps as he wondered how much he could charge you for that.

“Yeah, raiders. They’ve attacked my settlement four times already.”

“And… they took you hostage? Kept you as a prisoner?”

“N-no… why…? No. They keep destroying our crops.”

“Oh, so you’re hungry.”

“I mean… yeah, but most of all I just need-”

“Need a little relief from all the stress you’ve been under?”

“I guess so, but not before I’ve solved the problem. What I really need is a bounty hunter.”

Cooper raised his hands, silencing you, a confused look on his face.

“I’m gonna stop you there, missy. This is verging on an acting job, and I don’t do those any more. Now what do you mean a bounty hunter?”

“Sorry… I don’t… what is there not to understand? I figured that’s what you did… isn’t it? Hunt bounties? Someone told me I could find a guy here that was good with a gun and-”

“Oh, you gotta be fuckin’ shittin’ me!”

He let out an exasperated laugh as he stood up from the chair and walked to you by the door.

“You think I’m a fuckin’ bounty hunter?”

“I thought… but now I’m sensing that you’re not in fact a bounty hunter.”

“Yeah, you got that right at least, lil lady.”

“So what are you then?”

“I’m an escort.”

You didn’t want to be presumptuous, and you couldn’t quite believe what he was saying, so you sought out some clarification, much to his dismay.

“So you… you go with me to get the raiders like a chaperone?”

Cooper stood in front of you in disbelief, narrowing his eyes at your perceived stupidity. 

“No, I ain’t escorting you anywhere except to this bed. Or the floor. Or against the wall.”

“Like sex?”

“Yeah. Like sex.”

You had so many questions, and not one of them felt appropriate. He just didn’t seem like the type of person who was well-suited to that particular line of work. Of course he was handsome, and there was that alluring, cruel nature that you found so beguiling, but his exterior was so rough and cold that you couldn’t imagine a lot of people getting past that.And with that thought, you wondered if he considered you to be that kind of person, someone who would shrug him off based on his demeanour, or worse, his looks. 

“Why were you so surprised about me wanting to hire you then?”

“Well, darlin’, you just don’t strike me as the wild type.”

“And what does that mean?”

“Means I usually only offer my talents to the people who want something a little weirder than what’s on offer elsewhere. Kinky folks, someone looking to get a bit freaky.”

“Huh…”

He didn’t know you well enough to make that judgement, and it smarted a little. And you were learning more about yourself too, because you were interested in him. Even before he’d revealed to you his line of work you’d been finding yourself stuck in a trance by Cooper. Of course you’d already reasoned that he would never be interested in you, but now that you know his affections could be bought…

“Is that all you brought?”

Speaking of money, Cooper had begun to rifle through the stash of caps that you had laid down on the dresser beside your backpack. 

“Uh… yeah. I thought that would be enough.”

“This would barely cover my fees, and you were gonna try and hire a bounty hunter for that? That is just about the stupidest god damn thing I’ve ever heard.”

You stepped to him purposefully, pulling the caps from him and putting them back into your bag. Even with your little quickfire crush, you found yourself irritated by his constant, snippy remarks. 

“Listen, I had no other choice. My settlement is struggling, this is all we had left after the raiders. I was hoping that someone would take a little bit of pity.”

“Sounds like the plot of some corny old cowboy movie.”

“Makes sense now, me thinking you were the bounty hunter, hm?”

Gesturing at his outfit with your hand, you let your eyes take him in from the floor up, and when your gaze settled on his face, you noticed him stepping closer, leaning into you. 

“I ain’t just some cowboy, missy. I am the cowboy.”

The way his voice lowered for emphasis, growling in his throat as he spat the words out at you with every intention, made your body flush with heat. A near immediate clenching formed in your gut, a tight coiling as you felt your saliva collecting against your cheeks. If you didn’t ask, you’d regret it forever. So you swallowed your nerves and spoke.

“So, can you do anything for me then?”

“I can do plenty, sweetheart. I can give you an earth-shattering orgasm and something to think about on your travels back to your little settlement. I cannot kill someone for you, but I can make you forget your troubles for a little while.”

“A-and… I have enough for that?”

Cooper grinned, more of a smug sneer than anything that resembled genuine happiness. 

“Are you asking to hire me for these other talents, then?”

“I guess so. Can I?”

“Hey, you got the money, then you’ve got me.”

You reached for your caps once again, handing them all over to him and watching as he put them into the pocket of his coat. All of it gone, in a moment of weakness over a man you’d just met. Before you could resent the decision too much, though, Cooper began shrugging off the long, duster jacket, your caps jingling as he did so. With it off, you could get a better look at his tarnished outfit underneath. He looked even more like a cowboy now. He hadn’t been lying before. Everything about him reminded you of those old holotapes you’d seen, the tarnished posters on the walls of buildings, or in the thankfully spared comic books you had been able to read. 

Noticing that you were just standing there, staring at him, Cooper broke the silence. 

“You look nervous, and I am a busy man. Shall I get things started?”

You weren’t even aware that you had started nodding until he was in front of you, fingers pulling at the material of your shirt and untucking it from your pants. He really wasn’t shy about it, no hesitation at all as he teased it up and over your head, already working on his own.As you stood there, awkward, exposed, he tossed his shirt to the side and began working on his belt, unbuckling it as you watched him. His body was lean, but not slim. The scarring on his face followed over his entire body, covering him completely. Each little line and ridge in his skin looked tempting, and you wanted nothing more than to run your fingers along him, to feel the texture against you. 

Cooper was quick to fulfil that desire, wrapping his arms around you as he worked at your pants. The embrace felt warm, and you couldn’t help but let your own hands travel around to his back, stroking up and down his spine as he pulled your pants down, letting them fall to your knees. As you stepped out of them, kicking them to the side, Cooper did the same, stopping briefly to take you in fully as you admired him in return. 

His cock was average in length, thicker than most, but what intrigued you most, once again, was the way it might feel against you. Ridged, tickling, with a stretch. You could feel yourself drooling at the thought, only pulled back to reality by Cooper’s voice.

“A quick disclaimer: you’re not going to get pregnant, and my blood kills diseases. I’m clean, so anything wrong with you, you can’t blame me.”

It was an oddly comforting statement, and solved a problem you hadn’t thought of until then. You nodded, standing in an awkward silence until Cooper spoke again.

“So, where do you want it?”

“I, uh… on the bed, I guess?”

“Well, that answers that question, but I meant my cock.”

“Oh! Maybe… uh… I…”

Cooper interrupted you, putting you out of your misery as you fumbled around for the right words and the bravery to ask for what you wanted. 

“Listen, just… lay on your back and spread your legs so I can get to your cunt. Nothing too adventurous for you, I think.”

You did as you were told, thankful for the instructions and his easy way of speaking them, even surprising yourself at how enjoyable you found the vulgar way he spoke to you. Everything about him was a little bit vulgar, though. But all the same, exciting and attractive, only fueling your arousal as you watched him spit on his hand, a long strand of drool connecting from his lips to his palm, before he stroked it along his cock. 

“You good?”

“Skill wise, or-”

“Are you ready?”

“Yes. Yes…”

With a roll of his eyes, not quite the look you had hoped for admittedly, Cooper lined the head of his cock up with your slit, pushing the tip past your folds and into your cunt with a soft groan. You were tight around him, stretched by his girth, and the way your fingers clawed at the mattress gave him a feeling of accomplishment already. 

Already, this felt different to him. You kept your eyes focused on him, when they weren’t closing against the pleasurable pain of him thrusting his cock into you. And not just to take in his body, instead, you were looking into his eyes. It felt like he was being seen for the first time in a long time. 

At one point, a soft smile crossed your lips, almost shy, and it pushed a grin to his own lips. It reminded him of someone from so long ago. Someone who looked up at him, body exposed to him, admiration and giddy glee in their chest. From that day, the last one. He couldn’t remember her name, but he remembered how she made him feel. She was sweet, and she saw him for who he was, not what he’d become. And given what he’d become now, he could be certain that it was the last time someone had seen Cooper, until you. 

Cooper grunted as he pushed himself deeper into you, up to the hilt, his hips pressing into you, hands on either side of your head against the bed. Everything about you was enticing. The soft giggles you let out, deep, breathy sighs as he worked at you, half-lidded eyes that sparkled with joy as they took him in. Usually, he was good for a solid half hour of pleasure, well worth the money he charged, but he could feel himself coming undone already. 

“Cooper… this is… you’re so good.”

Usually, he wasn’t one for speaking during sex, unless he was paid extra. But he indulged himself in your praise, wetting his lips and pushing past the grunts of exertion to ask for more. 

“Yeah? Tell me then, darlin’... tell me how good it feels.”

Your words spilled out with surprising ease, given how shy you had seemed. Kindness was clearly natural to you, and Cooper was incredibly grateful for it. It was beginning to feel like less of a job, a task, a need to get you fucked and out of the door and more of a genuinely pleasant experience for him. The more he considered how good it felt, to be touched, to be held, felt, appreciated for more than just fulfilling a kinky niche, the faster his rutting got. He wanted this to last, wanted the feeling of your cunt wrapped around his cock, your body warm under him, your eyes trained on his, to last for as long as possible, but it wasn’t easy to hold himself back. And it seemed less likely that you would be able to hold on either, as you had begun whimpering, fingernails scratching at the sheets, your hand finding his and clinging to it as you began to jerk your hips into him.

With a sharp hiss that opened into a shriek, you felt yourself reaching your climax, clenching around him as you quivered, your body electrified for those thirty seconds of extreme pleasure, your body overwhelmed with the sparking sensation that had you tingling all over.

When your breath was steady once again, you reached a hand up to Cooper’s cheek, holding it there and stroking his cheekbone with your thumb, enough energy left to utter one word.

“Wow.”

The way you uttered that one word was enough to push Cooper to his own orgasm. There was more kindness and genuine feeling in it than anything he’d heard in the past two hundred years. And as he felt himself being emptied inside of you, he couldn’t help but hit an incredible low, realising that it was over already, before he had begun to properly appreciate it. So he sank down into the mattress, rolling over and settling in next to you.

Laying there, your body cooling in the wet patch under it, you could barely speak, but you pushed past your heavy breaths to get at least one thing out.

“Thank you.”

Cooper kept himself as still as possible, letting his body come to a regulated pace, trying not to react to the words he was sure he had just heard you say.

“Thank you.”

No one had thanked him, for anything, for a long time. And least of all for his efforts in sex. The only reason he really made it, so to speak, was that he was a niche commodity in the world of sex. There to be used, to get off on or with, and then to leave again. And if he thought too hard about it, no one had ever thanked him before either. Not Barb. Not his co-stars. Not the directors who he performed for. No one. Was he actually good at it? Talented? Had he now fucked so much that he was an acceptable lay? Or were you just an outlier? Connected to him in a way that made it good? It seemed far more likely, given that he himself had found it far more pleasurable than anyone else in the last two hundred years. But that thought was a difficult one to process, so he rolled over in the bed in a bid to avoid those feelings, focusing so hard on the bare wall in front of him that he fell asleep remarkably swiftly.

Noticing that his breathing had slowed, a soft snore occasionally rumbling over his lips, you stood up from the bed and moved quietly and carefully to the sink in the corner, filled with old, stale water that felt cool against your skin. You didn’t want to risk waking Cooper, mostly because he looked like he needed the rest, but partly because you wondered what you would say, if anything, after what had just happened. So you took a seat to try and ground yourself.

From the chair in the corner of the room you watched him for a few more moments, perching there as you considered everything that had happened that day so far. A journey wasted, in some ways. But now you had an experience worth remembering, truly an adventure. It was almost difficult to imagine it as a one-off though. A singular event, never to happen again. And as you watched Cooper’s body moving slowly, inhaling and exhaling soundly in his sleep, you realised the thought was actually quite painful. And silly. You’d only just met him. He did this with so many people, and you weren’t special. It would be foolish to let yourself think that. How ridiculously typical would it be for some naïve country girl to find herself attached to her first one night stand, with a paid professional no less. So, rather than face those difficult thoughts any longer, you collected your things up, stopping only to reach into Cooper’s jacket and take enough caps back to pay for another room. At the bar, you were given another key, and you headed back up to try and get as much sleep as you could before making the decision about the next steps in the morning. 

[blueywrites]

Imagine asking Eddie hitting it from behind and you surprise him by begging to put it in your ass for the first time. Man barely makes it without immediately busting.

a little twist to your prompt! I had a sudden vision 😌

When you arrive on set, your stomach's a little twisted up with nerves - quite outside the norm for you, as you've been performing in these productions for a while now, and the thought of getting naked and fucking in front of a room full of personnel no longer phases you. But you've agreed to do an anal scene for the first time, and now you're a bit nervous for it. At least, you're nervous until you get close enough to see your costar - with his robe hanging low off one pale tatted shoulder, dark hair left to fall wild around his shoulders, his brown eyes cocoa-warm when they meet yours and he offers you a little wave in greeting.

Eddie.

You're glad it's him. He's funny and charismatic, and he never takes himself too seriously, which is refreshing compared to most actors in this industry. During scenes, he's flexible and responsive, always adapting quickly if you deviate off script a bit, and he seems to even enjoy it when you do. Likes it unpredictable, he says. Plus, he's vocal - and you like that. It genuinely turns you on, which makes the whole thing easier. Less of a performance that way.

After greeting Eddie with a bright smile, you're whisked away by your team. They get you prepped with makeup and hair and lube to ease your way later, and your nerves only come back just a smidge once you follow Eddie onto set and you both drop your robes, leaving you with nothing else to do but get in position and let the cameras start rolling.

"Hey." You turn at the sound of Eddie's gentle voice, pausing when you feel his fingertips clasp your elbow in a light hold. You thought you'd been masking you feelings well, but when you look up at him, his pouty lips are pulled into a soft, crooked smile. "Don't stress it, alright? I'll take care of you."

It's kind of him to offer reassurance, but that look in his eyes and that touch at your elbow and those words... It hits you more than just 'kind' should. I'll take care of you, and there's a flutter behind your ribcage, an omen of sweet, seductive danger, because he's your co-worker and that's why he's fucking you and you can't afford to feel some type of way about it.

But when he has you on all fours, folded up with your ass arched out, bouncing on the recoil as he hits it from the back... Shit. You know the transition is coming soon cause you've hit all the beats leading up to it already, and with how fuckin' wet he's made sure to get you, you're more than ready for him. You peek back at Eddie with your cheek pressed to the couch cushion, your breath huffing in little high-pitched whines as his hips clap against your cheeks and your pussy sucks him in on every thrust.

"Fuck, baby, feels so good," you simper, not entirely acting. And Eddie's supposed to reply with something like, 'Yeah, you like that? What if I put it in your ass?' But you don't give him the chance. Sweet and needy, breathily begging, you look up at him and continue, "Please, oh, please fuck my ass--"

"Fuuuuuuck," Eddie groans, and it sounds somehow both surprised and rehearsed at the same time, like maybe it started as a genuine reaction and he'd made a conscious effort to temper it back. But you've performed with him enough to know that new pinch in his brow means something's different this time. You can see it in his eyes too when you double down, whining out how much you need his big cock in your tight little asshole...

I'll take care of you. When Eddie pulls out, sinking into you in one smooth stroke, stretching you so abruptly full, making your eyes roll back at how fucking good it feels -- well, you fall just a little bit in love with him.

[fairestwriting]

*KICKS YOUR DOOR DOWN*

IT'S 8 AM AND I HAVENT SLEPT. I FOUND THE WORD DOCUMENT SO HERE HAVE THE FIRST ONE IT'S THE SIMPLEST ONE I'VE GOT I'M GOING TO BED

Maybe Vil finding out MC is basically his equal in their world? A famous actor/actress, model, makeup artist, etc? Maybe they're super casual in this world so it's not obvious until it gets bright up what they did in their world?

MAYBE i am really simple maybe i will see a vil request and black out and go crazy.......anon please go to bed at regular times (<- guy who does not do this either)

Vil Schoenheit

He's not completely clueless, he does put in the effort to keep up with trends after all-- But it's exactly because of this that he ends up not really recognizing you.

The entertainment industry has no shortage of people, and in the end, Vil is still only human, no matter how much of an eye for detail he has. It's hard to remember other artists' names.

He does get a feeling that he might have seen you before, but he can't really figure out where. It sort of gets on his nerves for a bit. If you pay attention you can catch on to this hint of odd curiosity every time you talk to each other.

There's no way he misses your charisma, either. Still assuming you're not in the position you actually are, Vil is genuinely surprised at how good you are at dealing with people. Even when you seem tired or out of it, you still keep a smile on your face and a pleasant tone to your voice.

Of course, though, he'll still be stern sometimes, even as you grow closer. Maybe he ends up even being a little bit harsher than usual because he sees all that potential in you. At the same time, though, he's a lot more gentle outside of things like school projects. If you show that you know a thing or two about fashion or performing, he's absolutely willing to discuss.

Then, he eventually finds out. Maybe he stumbles upon one of your posts in social media. Maybe you straight up run into each other when he's doing a photoshoot. Later he'll think he should have seen this coming, but in the moment, you're getting the privilege of being one of the few people who really shocked this man.

He'll keep it together if you're both in public, but the second you're not, he's kind of a mess? He doesn't want it to show, but obviously now there's this whole new concern about your relationship hurting his or your career, and wondering if anyone's seen you two together already, and just how the hell did you fly under the radar for so long, he's not mad, he just really needs to know--

Of course, you talk, calm down, and it works out. And deep down, he's happy about being with someone who can really understand the specific struggles he goes through, besides being able to trade work tips and share stories. It feels comfortable.

Honestly though? He's not getting over how you just did that. He's too proud to say it, but he's forever baffled at how insanely good you are at blending. Sometimes you catch him staring. Mostly it's just out of fondness. Other times he's trying to figure out how to pull off your totally-not-a-celebrity aura so he can go to the mall in peace.

if you wanna support my work, you can buy me a ko-fi or commission me!

[llyfrenfys]

"Fascism and Welsh Nationalism", or "Stop Fawning over the FWA you cont"

This is inspired by things I've been noticing around Aberystwyth lately while out and about.

Some mfer is putting up Free Welsh Army (FWA) stickers and I have to keep on pulling them down. Why? You ask.

Fascism.

Because of the not so subtle links between the FWA and fascist movements (of which those links are quite frankly underdiscussed) this post is necessary.

So, starting with the stickers:

This is just one of three identical stickers I've pulled down this last week in Aberystwyth. They appear more to be car stickers than anything else and must have cost a pretty penny to print and/or purchase. They appear to have been bought directly from a website using FWA imagery and slogans - yet does not claim to be the FWA (that I can see, at least). I'm not going to link to it because they don't need any more web traffic. But we will get onto why this is significant in a bit.

Anyway, returning to the stickers - I pulled down the first one off of an electric box on North Road, opposite Vaynor St in late November. I pulled down the second (pictured) also in late November on Penglais Road off the bus stop near the hospital. And in early December I pulled down the third one off of a wall near the Spar at the end of Vaynor Street. Right off the bat we can assume the guy who wasted a lot of money on these stickers lives local to where the stickers I've found so far were. So they're lazy, for one - not venturing much further than their own front door by the looks of it.

Iconography:

I've written about the iconography of the FWA before here but it bears repeating that if fascists approve of your iconography, then that's a sign your movement is already overrun with fascists.

This is the sticker design which I've been noticing about town. Top to bottom we have "Cymru Rydd/Free Wales" which on its own is fine. No qualms with that. But between the Welsh and English text is a symbol. This one:

Now, this was the symbol of the Free Wales Army. Note that I say *was* because the FWA doesn't exist any more. Yet various actors have tried to resurrect its very unsuccessful corpse over the years. These stickers seem to belong to a new organisation which is the latest to try and capitalise on the ghost of the FWA. Now, if you're like me, you'll have already noticed this design is, for lack of a better word, a bit dogwhistley. The angled, blocky, swastika-like stylisation of what is supposedly an eagle, the black and white void of any other features and the very fact it *is* an eagle depicted all seem a bit *too* similar to the iconography of the Third Reich, don't you think?

Their design choice is no accident. It is a design which appeals to fascists while also has enough Welsh cultural reference for apologists to hide behind with a plausibly deniable reason for why their eagle Looks Like That. The white eagle is a reference to the 13th C. poem Mab Darogan, in which Myrddin prophesises that "a king shall come with heroism from among the Welsh people" and that "generous men shall be reborn of the lineage of the eagles of Snowdonia". The eagle could have literally been drawn in any way. But it rather specifically was drawn like this. That choice is not accidental.

Now this new organisation which is trying to reanimate the corpse of the FWA (we'll call them EW) has incorporated the FWA symbol into their sticker. An endorsement of the failed so-called 'paramilitary' organisation on their part, to be sure. EW also have included a different style of white eagle on their sticker as well - which is blatantly stolen from Wikipedia (the copyright is expired, but 0/10 artistic effort on their part even so). Also not to nitpick but the eagle on the sticker is grey not white so that's also a fail.

Artistic criticisms aside, the sticker is loaded with dogwhistley iconography all round. The Celtic knot border isn't necessarily problematic, however, fascists and/or neo-nazis love to slap Celtic knots onto things because they associate Celticity with whiteness. The colour scheme may also be a coincidence, but it does remind me of the fascist symbol which is the 'Flag of Kekistan" which uses the same colour scheme.

Why does this matter and who were the FWA?:

The FWA were a Welsh nationalist (supposedly 'paramilitary') outfit which formed in Lampeter in 1963 and disbanded in 1969 (just 6 years of activity). They took a lot of their cues from the IRA and were effectively fanboys of them. The group was never really considered a threat and mostly consisted of middle-aged men playing paramilitary dress-up. They did claim to be funded by the IRA and that they had dogs trained to carry explosives. Their claims remain unproven.

HOWEVER - and here's where things get sticky. A lot of the issues the FWA were publicly concerned with were and are actually valid issues (e.g. the drowning of Capel Celyn, the Aberfan Disaster etc.). The problem is that fascists or fanboys of fascists love to get their foot in the door by addressing genuine issues. But what happens is that invariably a minoritised group is blamed for the existence of said issue and naturally that leads to discrimination and violence.

The police started to get a bit antsy with the investiture of then-prince Charles as prince of Wales and the possibility of the FWA doing some terrorism. So some of the FWA's leaders were arrested just prior to this. The group officially ended in 1969.

The nationalism advocated for by the FWA was of the 'blood-and-soil' type. Not just your common or garden nationalism (which still has issues but given context is perfectly able to exist in a non-fashy way). And that's why the idolisation of the FWA in years since is sus. It appeals to romanticised nationalist notions of brave men in uniforms helping free Wales - when in reality they did little terrorism and little to actually further the Welsh nationalist cause. In fact, the leadership of the FWA fell apart after they started to disagree on whether their actions were damaging the cause rather than helping it.

Julian Cayo-Evans founded the FWA and ran it with Dennis Coslett and Gethin ap Gruffydd. Gruffydd went on to found other youth nationalist organisations after he left the FWA due to disagreements with its direction - e.g. he founded the Patriotic Front in 1964 which was later outlawed by Plaid Cymru in 1966. It goes without saying names like 'Patriotic Front' are deliberate nods to other, similarly named fascist organisations like National Front.

Legacy and The Present:

FWA's only legacy is the sycophantic fanclub which ressurects the corpse of the FWA every few years to parade it around and relive the 'glory days' of paramilitary cosplay. But aside from functionally being useless, their iconography and politics are still very much under the fash umbrella and that must be resisted at every opportunity (hence why I'm tearing down their stickers - I don't want fascists to feel welcome here). Part of why people may turn a blind eye to the FWA/sympathise is that they may not be aware of the history of the FWA or see the dogwhistles laden in their work and symbols. Some may even just assume without any other context that they're just another Welsh-language preservation group and may even support them without realising the deeper nature of the organisation beyond just preserving the Welsh language.

Which brings me back to EW. I'm going to put the rest of this under a cut, I do encourage reading the rest though and reblogging to get the word out that

It is always morally okay to tear down fascist propaganda

If you see some in your town, don't hesitate to let fash know they aren't welcome here.

EW:

So, onto the latest in a long line of paramilitary wannabes who idolise a long-dead organisation from the 60s.

The EW website seems... sketch. Lots of banners and sections asking to 'donate now' and 'take action' (with money). So right off the bat this looks like a cash-grab.

Secondly, from their own 'About' section they claim that the Welsh Independence movement has "become inundated with authoritarian Marxist entryists who regard Welsh independence as merely a vehicle for furthering their own political agendas". Which is pretty bold stuff coming from an organisation trying to do The Exact Same. There's also a LOT of emphasis on youth involvement and youth nationalism.

There's also a lot of ahistorical claims in the About section too. E.g. on the prophecy of Myrddin "From this legend derives the very name of Cymru’s greatest mountains, with ‘Eryri’ meaning the ‘Seat of the Eagles’ in Cymraeg." - this is contested as there is no one agreed upon etymology of Eryri. To claim that this is The Etymology suggests that they picked this one just because it conveniently fits the version of the mythology they're presenting. They also claim that "Owain ap Gruffydd, would adopt three such eagles as his royal coat of arms" - this is blatantly incorrect as Owain ap Gruffydd lived before the Age of Heraldry and the three eagles are actually later attributed arms.

In EW's FAQ there's a section on supporting their organisation - with one paragraph saying that you can buy stickers instead "If you aren’t eligible or willing to commit to becoming an activist". Lol at 'if you aren't willing to fully commit to our FWA fanboy club you can put up some stickers instead'. Also the button to buy stickers suggests you pay via paypal "We’ll accept quick payments using PayPal and will have them shipped to you First Class" - which *totally* sounds legit (what do you bet they ask people to pay via 'friends and family instead of through business means?).

And... that's it. There's very little else on their website. It *looks* like they're trying to be a movement, but appear to lack substance (and money, judging from how many different Donate Now buttons are plastered all over the site). A hollow organisation blatantly bending history and mythology to fit their narrative, proudly using symbols designed to appeal to fascists while asking people to trust them with the future of Wales?

Dim diolch.

For further reading on why we should guard against fascism in Welsh language revival and independence, see my other post here.

Reblogs welcome for an antifascist independent Wales.

[twstfanblog]

about your manwha AU before you had my curiosity now you have my attention, how will the three act now that they realized that Yuu was really important to them, will they try to become friends again, and will Yuu continue to ignore them? it would be funny if she ended up getting even closer to other characters like Vil, Idia and Leona and making the three jealous, because it's like that saying goes "you only value something when you lose it"

@iamsoconfusedallofthetime

Marina, you nearly got the three new playmates that Yuu gains once she's fully detached from the boys.

The first was Leona. His brother had brought him along for some type of fitting he was doing with Crewel, and he's left to wonder the estate. He finds Yuu reading in the home library. For a second, he didn't even realize who she was because, at this point, everyone thinks Yuu is deathly ill or already dead since she refuses to leave the house or accept visitors.

Leona feels connection with this fellow sad child and he offers his hand in friendship. They spend the rest of his visit reading together in the library (Leona told his brother he met a ghost once they were back in the carriage)

Mallues, hearing Yuu's befriended KINGSCHOLAR of all people, summons Leona to the palace to intimidate ask him questions about Yuu.

Leona, loving being superior to anyone and everyone is mocking Malleus through most of the visit.

Leona: Why should I stop spending time with my friend?

Malleus: Don't put yourself on the same level as her.

Leona: Why not? You don't even like her.

Malleus: Yes I do! We're friends!

Leona: Oh? I wasn't aware friends call each other 'aggravating pests'...

Malleus:

Idia is asked to be Yuu's study partner, and the Shrouds agree at lightning speed because they've been trying to socialize Idia more. Yuu is still kinda a bully, but she's more subdued than she normally would be, so Idia doesn't mind her so much. They even become pretty good friends.

Azul is also one of Idia’s playmates and loses his damn mind hearing that Idia is now friends with Yuu. He starts yelling, saying that Idia can't be friends with Yuu. Idia yells back, because he's actually MET Yuu now and she isn't this roaming figure of maliciousness that Azul made he out to be. Idia straight just says that Azul is a bad friend and he'd be sick of him too at this point.

Idia does apologize the next time they meet, he didn't mean to make him cry but he meant every word he said.

Since Yuu isn't answering Kalim's requests for playdates, his family sets him up with a new playmate in RIDDLE. (They're praying Riddle's attitude will rub off on Kalim. It does not). But while Riddle and Kalim have their playdates. Jamil listens to Riddle's attendants Ace and Deuce talk about how Riddle wasn't such a hardass at Yuu's house. So he drafts a letter and asks them to deliver it to Yuu next time they're at her house. It was literally just a simple letter apologizing and inviting Yuu back to the Asim house. He'll cook for her and Kalim, they can play restaurant.

They agree but the next time they come Riddle has to keep them both pulled back from causing a damn scene, they're trying to get at Jamil to punch him. Kalim asks why they're so mad and Riddle recounts that they tried to deliver a letter to Yuu from Jamil only for her to tell them to get out.

Jamil: I…I just wanted to talk to her… Riddle: Well, it's probably for the best you didn't.

Yuu ends up meeting Vil because during her break from society, Yuu actually does get pretty ill. In an effort to give her some at-home entertainment, they hire actors to perform in their home. And Vil is STRUGGLING to keep his character because a fever-delirious Yuu is yelling about how cool the villain is and cheering every time he does anything. He can't hold in his blush when he's 'defeated' and Yuu starts booing and saying how the villain should have won. Their relationship in this AU isn't so snippy as it is 'two sassy bitches giving you side eyes.' Vil says Yuu is his #1 Fan and he sends her free tickets to his shows in an effort to get her out of the house but she never goes.

Literally...for ten years, the trio only has second-hand info about Yuu because she hasn't been in the public. Unfortunately, the events of the OG timeline start fading. So when she does make the bold choice to re-enter society it's around the time the FL shows up.

[heretherebedork]

I really do worry, as these BL actors get older and more comfortable in their lives and work with more people over more years, that this brand pairing is going to cause a lot more pain to both actors and fandom than we're considering right now. From people heartbroken over actors separating to people being upset that actors are friends with each other after a series to people calling it queerbatiing when real people are clear they're not dating each other... parasocial relationships have not slowed down and the people who theorize about real relationships and get invested in Every Little Thing are only growing. I've seen videos trying to compare them wearing rings in official photographs and the amount of people who are convinced that all of these actor pairs are not just dating in real life but also secretly in love forever who get heartbroken each time they try to continue their career...

It's one reason why, no matter how much fun fanservice can be, it's not something I feel able to participate in because it's so easy to see the people get sucked in and I find uncomfortable to try to enjoy something that's just fun and goofy with people who are So Absolutely Convinced This Is Real that they're out counting up money they're spending on birthday gifts for each other or videotaping their mothers at events and trying to decide what they're saying and it's just... it's wild to me.

(This brought to you by me enjoying some BL shorts and somehow ending up, despite my best efforts to trim them out, with a lot of shipper/fanservice content that is now constantly filled with people being heartbroken over so many pairings that, like, did one show together.)

I understand fanservice and don't condemn it, it can just be fun and amusing and cute! But people take it far, far too seriously... to the point that we can see shows being shaped around it and that it can make it harder to find success for actors who don't pair brand even if they're good or better actors and it's just wild to me, honestly.

But just... look, I get it, they're good actors and they put a lot of time into making this all look and feel as real as possible because that's what people expect. That's what fanservice has come to mean. And that, in a lot of ways, traps actors into not just a pair brand but often into specific roles and when they want to expand those roles... they're met with these objections and to people upset that they're working with someone new or doing something new or trying to be themselves and trying to be friends with people and it's just... it's so wild to me.

I try not to talk about actors because they're real people and I don't know them. I can't talk about them like that. But I can talk to the fans. And I can say that.

They are all real people. They cannot queerbait you. They probably aren't really dating. And they don't owe you anything. They don't owe you the truth, whatever that might be. They aren't lying, they're acting. That's what you want them to be doing!

I really do worry about this as BL actors keep acting in BLs as they grow up because when they're younger their worlds are smaller and they're just starting out but now there are BL actors in their thirties and they're leading living and kissing homies for fun and staying friends with old acting buddies and there are fans who aren't keeping up with that and they're always the scary ones, somehow.

[iminseriousdebt]

GENLOSS RAMBLE

Heyo! This is a little ramble I needed to make before the founders cut comes out!  yipee!

(GENERATION LOSS SPOILERS)

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So we can see in the above images the methods Showfall Media is using to control gl!Sneeg gl!Charlie and gl!Ranboo, they use an already pre-existing technology called an Electroencephalogram (EEG). Now this technology has been in use for decades, and essentially how it works is that it uses electrodes placed onto your scalp combined with a conductive gel to measure the electrical activity in your brain, these electrical signals are usually referred to as “brain waves” and these brainwaves can be subdivided into four categories, Gamma (greater than 30 Hz), Beta (13-30 Hz), Alpha (8-12 Hz), Theta (3.5-7.5 Hz), and Delta (0.1-3.5 Hz)

These different brainwaves are generally assosiated with different emotions, awareness levels, brain activities, etc. Now if Showfall Media has installed these onto sneeg, charlie, and ranboo, that means they have access to their thoughts and feelings, but brainscanning isn’t an absolute precise device, it still takes a lot of human effort and time to properly interpret the brainwaves. If Showfall somehow had a tool to easily interpret the signals they could much more easily operate, say, a live show. Lucky for them there is already a real life solution to this problem, kinda.

Its called Brain Generative Pre-Training Transformer, or BrainGPT for short.  What its goal is, is to act as an assist tool for human neurologists to use in real neuroscience cases and case studies, what it does is it uses a Large Language Model (LLM) full of pre-existing human research papers and other neuroscience knowledge too vast for human comprehension. And whenever a neurologist hands BrainGPT a prompt, (such as anomalous finding or to asses the fields understanding of a certain topic) , “would generate likely data patterns reflecting its current synthesis of the scientific literature”  (braingpt.org)

Now in regards to Generation Loss, what this means is that Showfall Media potentially has acces to this sort of technology, and would be able to use it in the production of their shows, now BrainGPT has a good way to go before its widely avalable. But in the genloss au, it can be far into development at this point, and be available for companies to use in whatever way they see fit.

Now reading and decoding brain signals is one thing, but to mind control someone is far beyond what is capable today, but Showfall Media has somehow developed technology to do so, the way I’m guessing they did it is that they produced certain brainwaves from the electrodes on the actors heads to give them the emotional reactions they needed for the show. I can’t exactly get into the technical stuff cause I’m not a neurologist, but its just a hunch on how I think they did it.

As for the mind controlling devices themselves, I feel there’s a more subtextual reason as to why those objects in particular are chosen as the devices that are central to the show’s operation. Ranboo’s mask has been a heavy emphasis throughout Gen 1 TSE,

Its been a central figure in not only generation loss’ marketing, but also ranboo’s marketing, because when you think of ranboo one of the first things that pops up is the mask, atleast in the wider public’s eye.

But these general associations not only exist with Ranboo, with Slimcicle you usually think of the wide brim glasses, with Sneeg its his backwards cap, and this is with the other cast members too when their introduced on the spinning carousel in episode 2. Furthermore, with Niki it’s that’s she's just so nice, with Austin its that he’s just a gay guy,  and with Vinny and Ethan these associations don’t really exist. So, with Vinny he's just the “hoarder”, and Ethan isn't even introduced. And then there's Jerma, who is relinquished to a goofy character with a weird voice and a strange sense of humour which sort of fits his public image.

But what I wanna mention with Ranboo’s mask specifically is that with the three images shown on the genloss twitter of the control devices, sneeg’s is just a hat, like theres nothing special about it, just a hat with electrodes on it, when you take it off he’s completely in control of himself. But, with charlie’s it’s a good bit harder to just take it off. His glasses are drilled into his skull connected to electrodes which are also implanted in his skull, with an additional feature of a speaker in his jaw. But if you remove the glasses, there would be a lot of bleeding and his vision would be impaired, but he would still be a free man.

But with Ranboo, poor, poor, Ranboo… Like Charlie, they have electrodes implanted on to their brain connected to a switch on the back of their skull (which also may or may not also be connected to their spine, idk its hard to tell). These sprout wires that thread through the mask and lead into their throat, and the mask piece itself is sewn shut onto their SKIN.

Now this makes me wonder, why is Ranboo so heavily guarded when the other are (relatively) easy to set free? Is it because Ranboo is an integral part of the show and therefore high risk? Is it because Showfall needed extra resources for the chat to be able to control them?... Or is it because Ranboo tried to escape so many times before that they were forced to disfigure them to such an extreme degree, and yet somehow, SOMEHOW, they are able to resist, whether it be tapping SOS on their hand when they're on full control mode or shanking a Showfall employee with a dagger, Ranboo, Resists. But Showfall will never let them leave. Or they will? Idk founders cut hasn’t come out yet as of writing this, anyway ramble over. You can leave now.