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lovelookspretty · 1 day

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lover of mine

drew starkey x actress!reader au

— in which drew and y/n, secretly exes, must fake date in order to keep the peace at a mutual friend’s wedding, but the forced proximity makes them question whether they ever truly moved on.

warnings: FLASHBACK TIME !!!!!

authors note: guys ive lowkey been picturing things as i would direct them in a film or music video so 😭 if my writing angle feels off then thats why. but i hoped u enjoyed anyway !! if u still arent on the tag list, feel free to let me know thru replies, anons, or dms !! notifications are always on <33

you stepped out of the sleek black car, your heels clicking against the pavement as you’re greeted by a wall of flashing lights and the low hum of the press. the red carpet at the love, simon premiere was buzzing with excitement, packed with celebrities and industry professionals.

this wasn’t your first time walking a carpet, but it was different tonight—there was something in the air, an energy you couldn’t quite place, but it felt like just another event to get through.

you paused in front of the photographers, striking a few effortless poses. to everyone else, you looked like you were in your element—smiling, waving, and giving the cameras exactly what they wanted.

but inside, you were already thinking about when you could leave. you were there because the director was an old colleague from your recent work on tempest, your breakout role. it was your agent’s idea to make an appearance, to be seen and keep your name in the buzz, but you hadn’t really planned to stay long. just the premiere, maybe the afterparty, and then home.

as you moved down the carpet, a journalist caught your attention. “y/n, over here! a quick word?”

you nodded, stepping toward the microphone with a gracious smile. the flashing bulbs intensified as you answered questions about your latest projects, your outfit for the night, and how excited you were to see the film.

“you’ve been busy with tempest—how’s that going?” one interviewer asked.

you offered a polite smile. “it’s been great. we’re still filming season two, so it’s been pretty nonstop, but i’m thrilled to be here tonight to support this movie. i’ve heard such good things about love, simon.”

you kept your responses short but engaging, giving just enough without going too deep. after a few more quick exchanges, you excused yourself, nodding to your team as you made your way inside.

the grand theater lobby was filled with more celebrities and industry insiders, everyone dressed to the nines and mingling, but you were already scanning the room for a drink. maybe a glass of champagne woule make the night pass quicker.

your mind was preoccupied, already drifting toward the idea of heading inside early, when you felt yourself bump into someone. you glanced up, ready to offer a quick apology, but the words froze in your throat the second your eyes locked with his.

he was tall—taller than you expected—with broad shoulders, and his hair was just slightly tousled like he’d been running his hands through it all night. he’s startled at first, like he wasn’t paying attention either, but the moment his gaze met yours, there’s a flicker of something you couldn’t quite place. maybe recognition. maybe awe.

his lips parted slightly, as if he’s about to say something, but he didn’t. instead, he just stared, clearly a little stunned. for a second, you felt like the noise of the room faded into the background, like it was just the two of you standing there.

“sorry about that,” you said first, stepping aside to give him room, your voice casual despite the strange pull you felt from his gaze.

he blinked, shaking his head quickly. “no, no, it’s my fault. wasn’t paying attention.” he rubbed the back of his neck, clearly flustered, and then finally added, “i’m drew, by the way. starkey— drew starkey.”

there was something familiar about the name, but it didn’f immediately click. “nice to meet you, drew,” you replied with a small smile. you glanced past him, ready to move on, but he didn’t make it easy. he was still looking at you, like he was trying to memorize your face, like he’d just seen something—someone—he didn’t want to forget.

“you’re—” he began, but then cut himself off, a little embarrassed. “i mean, i know who you are.”

you raised an eyebrow, curious now. “oh yeah?”

he nodded quickly. “yeah, you’re amazing on tempest. my sisters are obsessed with the show, but i started watching it, too, and— yeah, you’re great.”

his words tumbled out fast and you couldn’t help but be a little charmed by how genuine he sounded. he wasn’t smooth like some of the other people you’d met that night—he wasn’t trying to impress you with industry talk or big names. he was just . . . honest.

“well, thank you,” you said, feeling your cheeks warm a little. “that means a lot.”

there was a brief pause, and you could see him struggling for what to say next. the thing was, it wasn’t awkward—it was kind of endearing. finally, he let out a nervous laugh, rubbing the back of his neck again. “sorry, i didn’t mean to fangirl or anything.”

you laughed softly, shaking your head. “don’t worry, you’re fine.”

he was still standing there, not moving away, and for some reason, you didn’t feel like walking off either. maybe it was the way he was looking at you, like he couldn’t believe he was even talking to you. it’s a look you’d seen before, but it felt different coming from him. there’s no agenda behind it. just . . . admiration.

“so,” you started, trying to keep the conversation going, “what brings you to the premiere?”

he blinked, like he’d forgotten why he was even there. “oh, uh, i’m actually in the movie.”

and that was when it clicked. drew starkey. you heard the name before, seen it in casting lists, but seeing him in person, you hadn’t put it together until now.

“right,” you said, nodding slowly. “that’s why you looked familiar.”

he chuckled softly, but there was still that slight blush on his cheeks. “yeah, that’s me.”

the conversation flowed a little easier after that. you asked him about the movie, and he asked you more about tempest, genuinely interested in your work, not just going through the motions like so many others do at those events. he was funny, too, in a shy, unassuming way that caught you off guard.

as the crowd around you thickened, his eyes never left yours, like he was completely captivated. you weren’t sure how long you stood there talking, but it was long enough for you to forget about slipping out early.

and then, before you knew it, the lights were dimming, signaling that the movie was about to start. he glanced toward the theater doors, then back at you, almost hesitant.

“well, i guess we should head in,” he said, sounding a little disappointed that your conversation was being cut short.

“yeah,” you agreed, though part of you didn’t want the night to end either. as you both moved toward the entrance, something pulled at you to say more, to affirm the spark that had ignited between you. you abruptly stopped in your tracks. he turned to face you, curiosity sparking in his eyes.

“i’ll catch you at the afterparty?” you told him, your voice light and teasing. you watched his face break into a genuine smile, the kind that made his entire demeanor shift from nervous to gleeful.

with that, you turned and headed toward the theater doors, the buzz of chatter and laughter enveloping you. you could feel drew’s gaze lingering on you as you walked away.

you knew you weren’t on the cast so it would have been unexpected if you showed up. but you knew that he’d be there.

as you navigated through the crowd, you couldn’t help but glance back one last time, and in that instant, you caught drew watching you, his expression soft and hopeful. a faint smile tugged at your lips, and finally, you disappeared into the crowds of guests entering the theater, but the memory of his gaze stayed with you.

the afterparty was a vibrant swirl of lights and laughter, complete opposite to the behavior of the premiere just hours ago. you stood with leila, theo, and gia, the four of you navigating the home.

after a few minutes, you spotted him across the room, laughter dancing in his eyes as he talked to a small group. you excused yourself from your own conversation, weaving through the crowd until you found yourself standing beside him.

and soon, time seemed to slip away as you both dived into deeper conversations about your lives, your careers, and the dreams you’d harbored since childhood. drew opened up about his recent experiences filming, and you found yourself sharing the struggles and triumphs of your own journey in the film industry. every moment spent together felt natural, as if you’d known each other for much longer than just a few hours.

by the end of the night, the party winder down and guests began to trickle out. you exchanged numbers, both of you eager to see each other again. and you did. time and time again.

you paced around your apartment as you gestured animatedly. throwing your hands in the air, your eyes widened with passion, as if you were trying to grasp an idea that was just out of reach. drew leaned back against the counter, arms crossed, watching you intently with a soft smile playing on his lips.

“i just wanna have some time to go out there and have some fun,” you were telling him, “be there in the moment, explore la. not with any paparazzi there to demand photos of me or take them when i have my guard down. just me and the city.”

as you spoke, your gaze shifted toward the window, where the sun peeked through the window across your living room. you imagined yourself outside, feeling the sun on your skin, surrounded by the pulse of los angeles.

spinning around quickly, your face lit up like you’d just had a revelation. “like starstruck!”

“starstruck?” drew echoed as he squinted his eyes, trying to grasp your idea.

“yeah, you know that one movie on disney? christopher and jessica are running around los angeles in that one scene—” you continued.

“—before they get their car caught in that mud and christopher ditches her at the beach,” he interjected with furrowed brows, knowing full well how the scene played out.

you stopped abruptly, narrowing your eyes at him. you tilted your head, “you wouldn’t ditch me, would you, star?”

drew shook his head, “no way.”

satisfied with his answer, your expression brightened again, and you nodded vigorously. “good. then come on.”

you grabbed your keys from the table and practically dragged him out of your apartment. the door clicked shut behind you, and you led the way down the corridor.

as you made your way into the parking garage, your laughter rung out, echoing off the concrete walls. when you reached your car, you slid in and grabbed your sunglasses from its compartment to slide them on.

drew chuckled as he put his seatbelt on, shaking his head in disbelief. “you really have a plan for everything, don’t you?”

“only when it comes to having fun,” you replied, your grin widening as you pulled the hood of his sweatshirt over his head to shield his face. “don’t worry, they’ll never see us coming,” you assured him, your laughter infectious as you started the engine and pulled out of the parking garage.

and over the course of a year, you and drew became inseparable. what started as stolen moments during movie premieres and secret hangouts morphed into a deep, unshakeable friendship.

laughter echoed in your shared memories—late-night talks sprawled on the floor of your apartment, spontaneous adventures through the streets of los angeles, and lazy mornings spent in bed, wrapped up in each other's warmth.

as the seasons shifted, so did the nature of your connection. the boundaries blurred, and your heart raced at the thought of what could be. but you both chose to keep it light, enjoying each moment without the weight of labels.

then one evening, everything changed. it was a night like any other. the winter air was crisp as you and drew strolled through the twinkling streets of los angeles. you were coming back from a cozy evening out, the laughter still lingering between you as you recounted the highlights of the night.

as you walked, the sound of distant pops drawed your attention. you paused mid-sentence, eyes widening as bursts of color lit up the night sky. fireworks!

the brilliant reds, blues, whites, and purples filled the air. a smile spread across your face as you turned to him, the shared excitement pulling you closer together.

“this is so cute,” you said, leaning into drew’s side to admire the display. you were momentarily lost in the beauty, the chaos of colors exploding above you like confetti.

but then you spotted something in the midst of the fireworks—words began to form in the night sky, each letter crafted from the brilliant light.

‘will you be my girlfriend?’ the phrase appeared among the colors, messy yet somehow legible.

you read it, confusion washing over you at first. someone was asking someone else through fireworks? but as you turned to drew, you noticed his gaze, expectant and hopeful. the realization quickly sunk in.

your mouth gaped open in shock, your heart pounding as you processed what was happening. you looked back up at the sky, needing to confirm that this moment was real, that the words were genuinely meant for you.

but you turned back to drew, and without thinking, you nodded. before you knee it, you were jumping into his arms, wrapping your arms around his neck, and holding him tightly. he caught you effortlessly, and you could feel his warmth seep into you as he hugged you back, pulling you close.

you could feel the happiness reflected there, and for the first time, it felt official—no more questions, no more uncertainty. you were exactly where you wanted to be.

and just two years later, you and drew found yourselves on the set of hellraiser, a project neither of you anticipated becoming a part of when you first met. it’s actually funny how it all unfolded.

initially, you weren’t even considering taking the role. after all, you were still knee-deep in filming tempest. the thought of juggling both projects seemed overwhelming, and you were ready to prioritize your current work over anything new.

when drew secured his role in some film, he kept the details to himself, not wanting to distract you from your current commitments. he didn’t mention the movie by name, and you didn’t press him for details; you respected his space and didn’t want to add to your own frustration about whether to accept the new opportunity.

“you should really consider it,” he urged, his voice filled with genuine belief in your talent. “this could be a great chance for you, babe, and imagine how much fun you could have! you’re almost done finishing tempest this month. after that, you’ll have plenty of time for your new project.”

you weighed his words, feeling torn. you loved the idea of the role, but the reality of juggling two major projects felt daunting.

yet, after a long talk about chasing new opportunities and taking risks, you found yourself swayed by his excitement and your own desire for growth. finally, you decided to go for it, officially signing on for the project.

what you didn’t realize, until the casting announcements were made, was that you and drew would be filming in the same movie. when you heard the news, you actually went insane. you felt like the universe was rewarding you for taking that leap of faith. the two of you would not only be working together but doing so on a film that promised to be both challenging and thrilling.

as filming began, the reality of being on set with drew hit you both like a wave. the two of you were navigating the intricate dance of being both co-stars and romantic partners, which brought its own set of challenges.

you found joy in the little things—the shared lunches, the whispered jokes during scenes, and the late-night talks about the original film. every day, you felt grateful to have him by your side, knowing that while the world outside the set may have been chaotic, your little bubble was filled with warmth, support, and your boyfriend. not everyone was able to be in your position.

but it wasn’t the same anymore. at least a year later. you were in another city, staying in yet another hotel room, the kind where the silence hung heavy in the air, almost suffocating. the glow of the city lights outside filtered through the curtains, casting a soft haze over everything.

you rested your back against the cool surface of the wall as you stared out into the city through the window. it was strange—the city was vibrant, loud, yet all you felt was isolation. your reflection stared back at you, tired eyes searching for something, anything, to hold on to.

you let yourself imagine drew standing beside you, his arm slipping around your waist, the warmth of his presence easing the ache that had settled deep inside.

but it was just a fantasy. he wasn’t there. not really. not the way you needed him to be.

he was somewhere else, in another city, on another set. networking. working. living his own life. you both were—careers that had taken off in opposite directions, always moving, always busy, always apart. your schedules were like puzzle pieces that didn’t quite fit together anymore, no matter how hard you tried to force them.

sometimes he would surprise you, show up in whatever city you were in, standing at your door with that smile that used to make your heart race. but even then, it wasn’t enough. when he was there, it felt like you were lying next to a stranger, like everything you shared before felt like a distant memory.

your mind wandered as you stared out the window, trying to remember what it used to be like. the way you used to laugh together, the way he used to look at you like you were the only person in the world. but those moments felt so far away now, like they belonged to another lifetime. your careers were taking off, yes, but your relationship was falling apart.

you tried everything to get him to spend more time with you. it wasn’t just the long phone calls or the quiet hopes you'd whisper when he promised he’d visit, but you actually took action.

you started reaching out to his manager, a move that felt so cold, so far removed from the days when it was just you and him figuring things out together. now, it was emails and calls, hoping to align your schedules like some kind of business transaction.

you’d ask if there was a window, any gap at all, where you could see each other, trying to make sense of his packed days and your own commitments. it felt impersonal, like you were just another appointment penciled into his calendar, waiting to be confirmed.

there were weeks when you’d sit down with your team, trying to move things around, freeing up your time in the hope that his manager would find a slot that worked. you bent over backward, squeezing your own projects tighter so maybe, just maybe, you’d have a few days together. but it always ended the same.

another ‘maybe next time’ or a polite suggestion from his side to ‘keep him updated’—as if he wasn’t even aware of how much you were trying to hold everything together.

what shattered you was seeing him with his costars. scrolling through social media and seeing him hanging out with them after long days on set. grabbing dinner with them, laughing with them, being the drew you used to know—but never like that with you anymore.

he made time for them, he’d pay them visits, go out for drinks, be himself. but not with you. why not with you?

you couldn’t understand it. and that was the worst part. you weren’t jealous of his work or his friends, but it hurt seeing him give them what you so desperately wanted. time. effort. attention. those small moments of connection.

you tried bringing other people into the mix, hoping it would be less pressure for him. leila and theo became your go-to when you were feeling desperate. you’d invite them out, framing it like a casual group hang, knowing that maybe if drew wasn’t faced with just you, he’d be more likely to show up.

you thought maybe he'd feel less cornered, less pressured. and so you'd reach out, asking leila to join you and casually suggesting that maybe drew could come along too. a movie, dinner, anything. you tried to make it seem easy, no big deal.

but he never gave a direct answer. it was always a dance—drew would respond with something vague, something about being busy, or how he’d love to but he wasn’t sure, and he’d get back to you. he’d redirect the conversation, shifting topics before you even realized what had happened. it wasn’t malicious, but it left you feeling hollow, like he wasn’t even aware of how long he’d been doing it, how much he’d been dodging your efforts to pull him closer.

and you couldn’t help but feel bad, feel like you were trying so hard for someone who wasn’t even putting in half as much as you were. it wasn’t like he didn’t care—he was just so wrapped up in his own world, his work, that he didn’t see how hard you were fighting to keep your relationship alive.

you were trying to reach him, but it felt like he was always just out of reach, just beyond the point where you could hold on.

it wasn’t anger you felt toward him, but this deep, aching sadness. because no matter what you tried, it felt like you were the only one trying at all—did he even like you anymore?

and then suddenly, it snapped.

like a taut string pulled too tight for too long, it finally gave way. all the moments you fought so hard for, the endless nights spent hoping, came crashing down in an instant. his words weren’t loud or angry; they were quiet, almost too calm. it was like the end had been sitting between you both for months, waiting to be spoken into existence.

“what?”

your voice was small, a cracked whisper filled with disbelief. you’d heard him—of course, you’d heard him—but it felt so unreal. your heart ached, like it was physically breaking apart, but your mind couldn’t fully process it. it felt like you were standing outside of yourself, watching this unfold, wondering if this was really happening.

“why?” you managed, your voice barely holding together as your eyes searched his face for something, anything that would make sense of this. you saw his regret, the sadness behind his eyes, but there was no answer that would make this hurt any less. his lips parted like he wanted to explain, but there were no words to fix this.

he reached for you, like he thought he could make it better somehow, but you took a step back, your hand instinctively wiping away the tear you didn’t even realize had fallen.

all the effort, all the time you had spent trying to make things work, fighting for what you thought was love—it felt like it had all been wasted. your chest tightened as you stared at him, the silence between you thick and unbearable.

“get away from me,” you whispered, your voice stronger now, though your heart was shattering inside. you waved him off, refusing to let him touch you, refusing to let him see you break any more than you already had.

he hesitated, his hands dropping to his sides as the distance between you widened, both physically and emotionally. it wasn’t just the breakup that hurt—it was everything. all the time you’d given, all the compromises, all the moments you’d spent wishing for more.

you turned around, not wanting him to see the fresh tears that blurred your vision, not wanting him to see how deeply this cut. it wasn’t just about losing him; it was about losing the version of yourself that had believed, that had hoped for something different. something better.

“good luck on everything, drew.”

the words left your mouth before you could stop them, bitter and sharp. it felt like a punch to your own chest, but you had to say it. you had to remind yourself that maybe his career was the priority now, not you. and you needed to remind him of that, too.

even as your throat tightened, and your body threatened to break down entirely, you forced yourself to keep walking.

you didn’t look back. not when the tears started falling faster, not when your hands shook as you unlocked your car door, not even when you could feel his eyes on you, burning into your back like a weight you didn’t want to carry anymore.

the sobs finally broke free once you were inside, gripping the steering wheel so hard your knuckles turned white. he didn’t chase after you, didn’t say another word. he just watched you leave, and that somehow hurt more than anything else.

as you drove away, tears streaming down your face, the weight of it all finally settled in. you didn’t want to hear his excuses, didn’t want to hear whatever reason he thought justified this. you just wanted to go home, to get away from the pain that now felt too familiar, and to leave behind the pieces of your heart that had shattered at his feet.

and just like that, the year of silence between you began.

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kitkat13001 · 1 day

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୭ ˚.⁺⊹ .ᐟ modern!eren jaeger x reader

you begin to think that maybe it was a bad idea to bring eren to the amusement park when the small group of kids runs off with snotty noses and whining cries after losing to him at the squirt gun game.

but you just laugh, turning to him and his smug smile.

“eren, you could have at least given them a chance.”

eren shrugs, puffing his chest out. “i don’t see why, i kicked their asses.”

“they’re kids!”

“tch, they’ll have plenty of time to win, they’re young. me, though, i gotta establish my dominance.”

he makes a ridiculous show of flexing his muscles as you burst into a giggle fit. both of you have forgotten the carnie standing behind you until he clears his throat. “which prize will you be taking, sir?”

eren flushes and clears his throat, trying to regain his bearings.

“i’ll take, uh…” he glances over at you and sees you staring in awe at a giant teddy bear with a green bow-tie. “i’ll take that one. please. thanks.”

the carnie takes it off the hook and gives it to eren, returning to his place behind the counter.

“i- oof!” it’s heavier than eren expected and while it’s not exactly a brick, it’s still rather large. “who the fuck made these things so heavy?”

he hauls the bear away awkwardly to free up the game for the next round of people, you trailing close behind. you’re still staring at the bear over eren’s shoulder. he glances back over at you and stops in his tracks, eyes roaming your face.

the infuriatingly endearing curve of your mouth in a surprised ‘o’ and then quirking into an adorable smile. the way your eyes flutter shut from how wide your smile is, the slight lift of your shoulders like the happiness inside you manifested into a force that could lift you off your feet.

“here.”

your eyes go big and your cheeks tinge pink as eren holds out the bear to you. you shake your head quickly. “what? no, i can’t…i mean, you won it.”

he scoffs and clicks his tongue. “what am i gonna do with it? here, you can add it to your fuckin’ collection. don’t even lie, i’ve seen ‘em on your bed. you don’t even try to hide them.”

your cheeks flush even more pink, along with the tips of your ears. you laugh bashfully. “yeah. i guess. but i really-“

“just take it already,” eren sighs, huffing like he’s irritated but really he’s just trying to cover up his blush.

you hesitantly reach out as eren drops the bear into your arms.

he laughs when the momentum of the large bear drags you down with it, nearly collapsing like a sack of flour.

butterflies erupt in his stomach when you make a little ‘oof’ sound and try to regain your balance. eren chuckles and takes your hand in one of his own, the other reaching out to rescue to poor bear just inches away from the dirty floor.

“c’mon, you klutz,” he snorts, helping you to your feet. “i’ll carry him for you, okay?”

you shake your head in a daze. “you say that like you didn’t buckle under it when you grabbed it first, too. but thanks.”

eren just hums, hoisting the bear onto his back and taking your hand, continuing to wander the park with you.

“what’re you gonna name him? don’tcha have a whole ritual and everything?”

you giggle. “i don’t know. what does he look like his name is?”

eren pretends to think it over, glancing back at the bear smiling pleasantly at him.

“i think he looks like a ‘big pain in the ass’.”

“eren, stop it! you’re verbally abusing him,” you whine, but you’re laughing. “maybe i’ll name him armin. so he’s not mean, like you.”

“no freakin’ way you’re naming him after armin! did armin win this for you?”

“jesus, eren, just tell me to name my firstborn after you,” you snort, petting the stuffed bear between its ears.

“you definitely should. i’ll even name my firstborn after you.”

you laugh, reaching a hand up to smack playfully at eren. “who would ever put up with you long enough to marry you?”

eren catches your hand easily, intertwining your fingers and says nothing, instead smiling warmly down at you.

you would, i hope.

you take a seat on a bench, admiring the light from the sun sinking low to the horizon and washing the entire park in golden hues.

“i would,” you state firmly, and eren turns to look at you in surprise, mortified that somehow you were able to read his mind.

“huh?”

“i’d marry you,” you repeat matter-of-factly. “like if you were about to get deported, i’d marry you to keep you here. or if you had a secret uncle who left you a huge inheritance but you had to be married to get it, i’d do it. or like if we were in olden medieval times, if i had to have an arranged marriage, i’d pick you.”

eren just stares at you dumbfoundedly. “what the fuck?”

you were weird. he knew that. you’re prone to spout nonsense. it’s part of what he likes about you. in what scenario would eren be deported? he was born here. and what chance would he have of getting some huge inheritance from some relative he didn’t know? and how in the world would you ever end up in a medieval situation? but nonetheless his cheeks are still red and his heart is still beating fast. you’d pick him. he knew you didn’t explicitly mean that you’re romantically interested in him, but still, it made his heart jump in his chest to know that of everybody you knew (and that was a lot because you’re something of a social butterfly) you’d pick him. it didn’t matter for what, you would pick him.

he smiles and you beam up at him.

“i’d pick you too,” he hums, slinging an arm over your shoulder and pulling you close. you giggle, nuzzling your head in his neck.

it feels warm and just right, the way you fit into his arms. like maybe it was meant to be.

#i feel like eren w/out the trauma would just be stupid LMAO #i love him #modern eren has my heart #eren x reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren jaeger #eren yeager #eren yeager x reader #aot #aot x reader #aot fluff #eren fluff #attack on titan #snk #shingeki no kyojin #snk fluff #snk x reader #aot eren

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rieamena · 1 day

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ten: engine ᯓ★

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the message is vague enough to keep him in the dark, but you know it’ll get him to come. it’s not like you ask him for serious talks often; most of your time together is filled with playful teasing and lighthearted moments. but tonight, you need answers

you arrive at the park first. it’s quiet and dark, with only the rustling of leaves and the distant hum of city life in the background. the swings creak lightly in the cold breeze, and as you sit down on one, you can’t help but feel a sense of anticipation tighten in your chest

you’ve known for a while that something has been off with takuma, but he’s been good at hiding it. or at least, he thought he was. you've caught the small signs—the way his smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes anymore, the way he avoids eye contact during conversations that cut a little too deep

it’s unlike him, the takuma who’s always brimming with energy and confidence. and that’s why you asked him to meet here, in a place where you both feel at ease. it’s a space where neither of you have to wear masks

when takuma finally arrives, his hands tucked into his jacket pockets and his usual laid-back grin on his face, you feel a flicker of doubt. should you really bring this up? what if he shuts you out?

but then, his grin falters as he approaches you, noticing the serious look on your face

"hey, you okay?" he asks, leaning against the swing set’s frame, brown hair peeking out of his black beanie. "you sounded kind of… intense in your message."

you take a deep breath, watching the way he fidgets slightly, and gesture for him to sit on the swing beside yours. the soft creak of metal accompanies his movements as he settles next to you, his shoulder brushing against yours

"i’ve been wanting to talk to you for a while," you start, your voice calm but tinged with the weight of the conversation ahead. "i feel like something’s been bothering you… and i just want to know what’s going on."

takuma shifts uncomfortably, his eyes darting away from yours as he tries to laugh it off. "what? nah, i’m fine. i’m the same old takuma you've always—"

"don’t," you interrupt gently, reaching out to lightly touch his arm. "don’t pretend like everything’s okay. i can tell something’s been off since the beginning. your interactions with toji, your insecurity before the race…"

the words hang in the air, heavy and undeniable. he glances at you, his easygoing façade cracking slightly, revealing the turmoil underneath. his jaw tightens, and you can see the battle in his mind—whether to keep pretending or let the truth spill out

after a long, tense pause, he sighs deeply, his shoulders slumping forward. he rubs a hand over his face, looking more vulnerable than you’ve ever seen him

"it’s not that i didn’t want to tell you," he begins, his voice quieter now. "i just… i didn’t know how to say it. and part of me didn’t want to burden you with it."

"burden me with what?" you ask, heart racing

takuma looks down at his feet, the swing swaying slightly under his weight as he takes another deep breath. "it’s toji. training with him, getting into motogp, it’s… it’s been harder than i thought it would be. at first, i was all in, you know? i wanted to prove i could do it. prove i could live up to his expectations."

you sit quietly, letting him speak at his own pace. his usual relaxed demeanor has melted away, leaving behind someone who’s been carrying a heavy weight in silence

"i mean he's the one who recruited me. he saw something in me. but… it’s never enough," he says, his voice tinged with frustration and self-doubt. "no matter how hard i push, no matter how much i improve, it’s like… like i’m always falling short. toji sets these insane standards—perfect turns, perfect laps, perfect everything. i thought i could handle it, but it’s been messing with my head."

his hand tightens around the chain of the swing, knuckles turning white. "every mistake, every criticism… it’s just piling up. and now, i can’t even look at myself without feeling like i’m failing. like i’m not good enough."

you stare at him, your chest tightening at the rawness of his confession. you never imagined that beneath his confident exterior, takuma was battling this deep sense of inadequacy

"takuma…" you murmur, reaching out to place your hand over his. he flinches slightly at the contact but doesn’t pull away

"i thought i could handle it," he continues, voice shaky now. "i really did. but the truth is, all that negativity… it’s been dragging me down. i didn’t want you to see me like this—weak, second-guessing everything. i didn’t want you to think i was…" he trails off, unable to finish the sentence, as if saying the words aloud would make them real.

you squeeze his hand gently, trying to convey in that single touch how much you care, how much he means to you. "you’re not weak, takuma. not to me. you’re strong, and you’ve worked so hard to get where you are. it’s okay to feel this way—it doesn’t make you any less of who you are."

you shift your body, turning to him fully. "plus, you're the best racer i know. seriously."

he looks at you then, really looks at you, and for the first time, you see the vulnerability in his eyes that he’s been hiding. the air between you shifts, charged with a sudden intensity that neither of you can ignore. the way his gaze softens, the way his breath hitches slightly—there’s something there, simmering just beneath the surface

"i don’t know what i’d do without you," he whispers, his words barely audible, as if he’s scared to admit just how much he’s relied on you. "i don't know how i lived before a month ago."

the closeness between you feels electrifying, like the air itself is alive with unspoken emotions. you hear your swing creak softly as it drifts back and forth, watching his do the same as well

"takuma…" you breathe, your heart pounding in your chest. the tension is thick, undeniable, and you know exactly where it’s heading. you’ve felt this pull before, but never like this—never so overwhelming, so inevitable

"i… i have something else to say. since we're sharing secrets and all… even though im two for two and you're just listening but…" takuma asks, clearing his throat soon after. "can you come over here?"

the creak of the metal was heard as you stood up from the rubber seating. ino wasn't even a full two feet away from you and you could hear each other perfectly from where you were sitting but you still walked over and positioned yourself right in front of him. you hear him mutter something along the lines of ‘it's okay. i got this’, before actually starting to speak to you again

"uh… i um… i– no. i-i—," he pauses and stares at you for a bit, getting just a little lost in your eyes, before resting his head on your stomach, "i can't do it…"

a soft laugh escapes your lips. "mmm, tell me when you're ready." you slipped his beanie off and ran your hands through his hair. it would be a lie if you said that you've never thought about doing this before. takuma's hair was just so shiny and silky looking and the way the strands framed his face, it was all so—

ino pulled away from his comfortable spot on your body, looking up at you with his big brown round eyes. breath hitched in your throat as you snapped your head to look elsewhere, feeling that if you stared at him for a second longer, you wouldn't be able to look away. instinctively, you removed your hand from his locks, already missing the feeling

"sorry, do you—"

you weren't even able to finish before he responded, like he knew exactly what you were thinking. takuma laced your hand with his and placed it right back atop his head, settling right back on your plush stomach

"nah, you can do whatever you want t'me."

i. prev ii. next iii. directory iiii. profiles iiiii. taglist

jjk taglist

@blendingcaramal @gzchaos @theamazingrain @woah-girlz @voloslobotomyservice

@kyozvy @obessionofagrl @bubybubsters @sugurusbaobei @raindropsonrwses

@c-moon20-12 @saltynanobeanie @theamazingrain @synthiiiiis @ghostlyluminarycloud

@poopyyy @supernatrualqueen @bxrbie-jadeee @laitifly @discipleofthem

@cheesecake95 @strawberry-cherrypie @makeshiftproject @magiamad0ka @ncitygreen

@stillnotherapy @oniondrip @cloudy-yyy @definitely-not-leena @kidd3ath

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@baekhyunsbestie

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moodymisty · 2 days

Note

I’ve been thinking about our resident fail wizard and have come up with two ideas for a request about him, pick which ever one appeals to you.

Maybe some cute pre heresy encounter with Ahriman, you are one of the rembrancer or chapter serf attached to the Thousand Sons legion. You find yourself amazed and interested in the warp sorcery that the legion performs and Ahriman strike up a conversation with you after seeing your admiring glance

Or post heresy your another psyker or acolyte of Tzneetch who been roped into helping Ahriman find a cure for the Rubric post heresy. You don’t really have a choice in the matter and so are forced to help him. Though as you spend more time together, pouring over ancient tomes and following leads, you can’t help but feel Azhek’s eyes on you more and more. Never escaping the feeling that you’ve begun to take up his attention more and more

Author's note: I love meetcutes, so i had to do the first one lol enjoy a little snippet

Relationships: Azhek Ahriman/Gn!Reader

Warnings: None really

It's always fascinated you- how the warp comes to them so easily.

They seem so natural with it, a power beyond your imagination is simply at their fingertips, cast in a million and one different shapes and forms. It's endless, boundless, yet they seem able to twist it to their desires at their beck and call. With an everexpanding grasp as well, each time you see them it's something new; A new spell at their fingertips or lips.

You don't mean to interrupt him; You were only taking a momentary breather in the night air before going to your bedchambers. This has always been your favorite spot, a small balcony overlooking vast portions of Prospero.

instead of being alone however you find Lord Ahriman on the balcony, flipping through the pages of a book that floats to his left as if hung by invisible strings.

You find yourself awestruck by the sight, and when he looks to you the warmth of his eyes is almost hypnotizing.

"You seem quite surprised,"

He says, and you quickly divert your eyes downward and partly bow in the proper show of respect. You hadn’t expected someone of his stature here, you barely had time to compose yourself.

"I, I am so sorry Lord Ahriman."

You raise your head up and take yet another glance towards his floating book, eyes catching on the odd way the very air around it seems distorted. Then they look towards him as you await his orders- you presume they will be to dismiss you- before glancing to his book again.

"You seem quite interested. Is something on your mind?"

You look back up at him; The moonlight casts his tanned skin in a pristine glow, only broken up by the way his scars cast the light differently. His armor is cleaned, the white fabric draping over harsh metal edges and smoothing out like flowing water.

You take a small step closer, words on your tongue.

"Is it..." You purse your lips, trying to find the right words. "What does it feel like?"

The gentle evening breeze blows through your clothes, sending them flying about before landing back against your skin. You still have trouble looking him in the eyes, holding your arms close to your body.

"I don't think there are any words to describe it, little one."

He watches the look on your face change curiously, before giving a breathy chuckle.

"I didn't mean to disappoint."

You can’t help the feeling of disappointment that crosses your face, the feeling of not fully understanding. You want to know more, you need to know more, but your lot in life has seemingly denied you.

Ahriman finds that amusing; And perhaps worth a bit of his pity. A bright young mind, forever closed off from learning more. But yet you yearn so eagerly, so wantonly for more.

In a fit of impulsiveness you reach your hand outward into the oddly warping air around his tome, feeling the way the air changes in a way indescribable. Ahriman lets you, watching amused as you pull your hand away.

“I don’t think I’ve seen a mortal quite as stupidly curious as you.” He smiles a bit, even as you shirk away and await admonishment.

How doesn’t however, and instead makes a bit of room at his side.

“Let me show you a few more wonders, if a floating book can mesmerize you so.”

#Ahriman x reader #space marine x reader #warhammer 40k x reader #reader insert #reader #mywriting

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mxtxfanatic · 3 days

Text

"Shen Qingqiu doesn't actually like Luo Binghe, at least not until the end (if even). There's just no proof that—"

Shen Qingqiu's reaction to Liu Qingge—his beloved shidi who half of the fandom has convinced itself is in love with him—being aphrodisiaced:

Liu Qingge’s handsome face was splotched with red and white; it seemed like he’d been worked up into true distress, but he had no idea what to do with it. He clung helplessly to Shen Qingqiu, simply unwilling to let go. At the sight of him being so pitiful, Shen Qingqiu couldn’t help but think of how Bai Zhan Peak was a gang of thugs who knew only violence, and about how everyone there was obsessed with cultivating and fighting. Perhaps Liu Qingge, who’d grown up with such traditions, really was mentally deficient with regard to this sort of thing and didn’t even know how to jerk off. A deep pang of sympathy struck him. ... He kicked Liu Qingge into Madam Meiyin’s rose petal-filled bathing pool. Water splashed nearly six feet up. Even though Shen Qingqiu had the foresight to cover his face with his fan, icy coldness managed to splash all over his head. A soak at this temperature would assuredly cure Liu Qingge.

—Vol. 4, Chapt. 23: Recalling an Experience of Fighting Succubi with Great Master Liu, 7seas

vs. Shen Qingqiu's reaction to finding out that Luo Binghe actually liked him and had for a long time:

Shen Qingqiu was filled with both deep compassion as well as a feeling that this was extremely absurd. What could be more absurd than discovering that the person from whom you’d exhaustively plotted to flee, and had indeed fled from for so many years, hadn’t actually wanted to kill you at all, but wanted to do you instead? Though whether the desire was to kill or to fuck, the result was the same: Shen Qingqiu would still run away with all his might. One party wanted to meet but couldn’t, and so had clung to a corpse for five years. The other party avoided the first like the plague but still felt like he ran into him a great deal. Shen Qingqiu’s hands were stiff as he raised and lowered them, clenched them and relaxed. In the end, he let out a sigh anyway and patted that head above his. Fuck, I’ve really lost! he thought.

—Vol. 2, Chapt. 10: Huan Hua, 7seas

...or his reaction when an unconscious Luo Binghe pops a boner on him in the Holy Mausoleum:

After flailing about for a while, he slapped himself across the face and reasoned with himself logically: One couldn’t tell day from night in the Holy Mausoleum, so maybe it was morning outside right now? Therefore, this was a natural phenomenon, a normal bodily function. It would go away on its own, right? That was how it usually went, yes, that’s right! But just letting it sit there and not doing anything about it—wasn’t that a bit pitiful?! Well, there was nothing to be done about that. He couldn’t exactly help Luo Binghe jerk off under these circumstances, right?! If he just pretended he hadn’t seen anything, he would probably be forgiven—right?! Right! In the end, as a shizun, Shen Qingqiu had absolutely no duty to help his disciple simmer down, even if he’d started the fire in the first place!

—Vol. 3, Chapt. 16: Melting Ice

On the one hand, Shen Qingqiu decisively kicks Liu Qingge into a freezing pond to deal with the effects of the aphrodisiac. On the other, he hems and haws about how he should react to any of Luo Binghe's come ons, be they intentional or unintentional. If you needed another example: Shen Qingqiu has completely different reactions to being propositioned for sex when he thinks it's his Luo Binghe asking vs. when he finds out it's Bing-ge. That man loves his husband and his husband alone!

#svsss #human reads svsss #or y'all could also just read the whole bingge vs. bingmei extra #really emphasizes the point of sqq having clear boundaries of acceptable behavior with people he does not like #and having completely different levels of acceptable behavior for lbh *because he likes him*

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zhounauts · 1 day

Text

KISS THE RAIN, THIS IS GOODBYE TEASER ! ── heeseung's life is utterly flipped after falling in love at first sight with a mysterious girl on a rainy day. yet, when it comes to seeing her again it seems like he's out of luck. why? because she doesn't exist in the present. ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏

general info... genre romance, angst, time travel, long fic word count 0.47k current status in the works loosely based on please show up! by kim kihyun warnings cursing, death

authors note... first attempt at writing a story like this. i'm reposting this cause i lowkey posted it in a rush yesterday and wanted to redo some things, so if you've already seen this no you haven't. . .

currently listening to... lıllılı.ıllı.ılılıılıı. lıllılı.ıllı.ılılıılıı. lıllılı.ıllı.ılılıılıı.

HEESEUNG WAS GOING TO KILL SOMEONE.

And that someone was going to be the local weatherman, because why the actual hell was it pouring outside on a supposedly sunny day? The rain came down harder now, large droplets slamming against the pavement. It was the kind of rain that felt too heavy for the world, as if it wanted to drown everything. Heeseung cursed under his breath.

And then, cutting through the steady rhythm of the rain, there was a laugh. It danced through the downpour.

He whipped around, and there she was—a girl standing beneath an umbrella. She didn't seem to mind the rain at all.

Who was she?

Something about her was off, yet captivating. Her eyes seemed to glitter even through the gray of the sky, and her face—unfamiliar. He definitely would've remembered a face like hers.

“Huh?” that’s all he could manage. A wave of embarrassment heats his neck.

“Need a hand?” she asks.

“Who are you?”

“Me?” she tilts her head, and Heeseung can feel his heart pound faster, “Who are you?”

Heeseung blinks at this. “You don’t know who I am?”

“Am I supposed to?” the girl giggles again, “I do know that you need an umbrella though,” she reaches out a hand, a red umbrella resting on it. Heeseung takes the umbrella in his hand, undoing its velcro strap quickly to open it up.

“Thanks,” he mutters “but really, who are you? I’ve never seen you before,”

“Y/n,” the girl answers.

“Y/n?”

“Y/n L/n,” she smiles, “That's my name,”

Four days later it rains again.

And as it does, Heeseung holds your red umbrella in his hand, his face stoic. As he watches the downpour, he can only think back to the day he had met you. His head was a mess of thoughts, thoughts of you and simply how the hell this situation was even remotely possible. It couldn't be.

He had met you. He had talked to you. He had your umbrella. He remembered your smile.

And as he stands in the same spot he had met you before, he doesn't open the umbrella. He waits. Something tells him to wait.

Thunder rumbles. His heart beats. Lightning flashes. A girl laughs.

“Oh, you’re here again,”

It's you.

But it also can't be you.

Why?

Cause Y/n L/n is a name that belongs to a dead woman.

͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ZHOUNAUTS 2024©

#heeseung x reader #k-labels #enhablr #k-films #lee heeseung x reader #enhypen x reader #lee heeseung #lee heeseung x female reader #heeseung fanfic #heeseung enhypen #enhypen heeseung #enhypen #enhypen fic #heeseung #dividers by cafekitsune

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desertskiespodcast · 2 days

Text

There’s a friend I talk to every two weeks. Been over six years since he suggested it, and it’s now one of the only regular parts of my life. An hour long zoom call together from opposite sides of the country (I finally get to see him when our family goes to New York this Fall.

I…have some abandonment issues. Because of reasons. Reasons I won’t share here.

About one year after we started meeting, we said our goodbye at the end of the call as we always do, and he said “Before you go. I want you to know something. I’m loyal. I’m not going anywhere. You don’t have to worry that I’m going to stop being your friend.”

And I chuckled uncomfortably. Holy shit. Why did he say that? How did he know that was a fear of mine? I felt too seen. I became instantly uncomfortable. I don’t trust people. I’ve been burned before.

And I guess he picked up on that because he said, “I’m serious. I don’t ever want you to have to worry about that. I’m not going anywhere. Okay?”

And I said okay. And then I said thank you. And we ended the call.

I’m very very hard on myself. Self-deprecating to an uncomfortable degree. And then braggadocios because I crave external validation.

I always expect to be hurt by someone. Always. I wish I could say I was intensely loyal. I’m not. I got survival instincts and they make me hide away when someone tries to hurt me.

It’s been five years since then. He hasn’t missed a call. He’s never tried to hurt me. Not once.

I don’t know that I’d ever have written a show about friends who were intensely loyal to each other if he’d never said that to me. If he’d never backed it up with his actions and shown me it was something that was actually possible.

Some of you are loyal friends.

Thank you.

Those who don’t have that in their lives need it.

And maybe you have a friend you think may worry about that, a friend who’s always unreasonably hard on themselves. You know they’re on edge. Ready to go MIA at the first sign of danger. You might laugh it off. You love them. They’re lovable. How could they not know that?

Please consider having an awkward conversation in which you tell them that you’re not going anywhere.

They may chuckle uncomfortably. They may not reciprocate. It doesn’t matter. You’re gonna show them. It may take a while. But you’re gonna show them.

And they’re going to think about it every time they feel that they’re not worth sticking around for, which is every goddamn day for the rest of their lives. That’s what we do.

But, my friend? He’s not going anywhere. He told me that.

I’m really glad he told me that.

I needed that.

#friendship

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theheartnexttophan · 1 day

Text

Ok, so I’ve not seen anyone else talk about this, but I think it’s really cute, even if it’s a really small thing that required a LOT of investigation and explanation. So here is my

Black Jumper Theory

Obligatory disclaimer: I can’t prove this to be 100%-beyond-a-reasonable-doubt-definitely-true, but I feel like the jumps I had to make were reasonable enough to claim this as a theory

So first off, in Keeping or Yeeting My Entire Closet With Dan, Dan mentions several times how Phil has a lot of sparkly black jumpers (he says things like “you have 10 of them and they’re all identical,” “he has so many identical sparkly black jumpers,” and “sparkly black jumper number 510.”) But when Phil puts on this zebra print jumper, while debating about whether to keep it, he says “you bought this for me, Dan.”

We know Phil got the zebra print jumper for Christmas in 2016, because in his first video on AmazingPhil in 2017 (2017 WANTS ME DEAD), he’s wearing this jumper and mentions how he got it for Christmas. He talks about a bunch of his Christmas gifts in the first part of that video, (including a deer candle from Dan) and for everything he shows, he mentions who gave it to him, EXCEPT this jumper; he doesn’t say who it was from. As of the Keeping and Yeeting video, we know it was Dan.

But looking at Phil's first videos in other years, we can see that he also wore a sparkly/patterned black jumper in his first proper AmazingPhil video in 2016 and 2018 (so three years in a row.) In 2016, he does talk about Christmas presents, but doesn’t mention the jumper. He does show a blobfish plush and say that Dan got it for him, but considering how we know Dan got Phil a candle AND the jumper in 2017, I think it’s plausible that Dan got Phil both the blobfish and the houndstooth jumper he’s wearing in that video. In 2018, Phil doesn’t mention Christmas gifts or the jumper at all. (Also, I did look back on videos and Instagram posts, and didn’t find any time Phil wore any of these jumpers before their respective Christmases as far as I can tell.)

So based on all this evidence, I think it’s a reasonable jump to guess that from 2015-2017, Dan had a tradition of giving Phil a black jumper for Christmas.

Which leads us to January 11, 2018, when Phil posted this selfie on Instagram wearing the sparkly jumper, and said he wants to legally marry it. Which is SO CUTE considering Dan probably gave Phil that jumper.

BUT for even more evidence, Dan liked this Instagram post, and at the time, they didn’t really like each other’s Insta posts, even ones they tagged each other in (unless they had a specific reason to, like promo posts, and not even all of those). You can see this in my terribly screen recorded video of the posts before and after this one. (Interestingly, it was right around the time that Phil changed his hair to the quiff that they started liking each other’s posts consistently.)

So, when Phil posted that he wanted to marry the jumper, I can’t help but think of how Dan probably gave him the jumper, and how Dan also liked this single post, when that wasn’t a typical thing for him… maybe Phil wanting to marry the jumper wasn’t about the jumper at all… (pharriage hill)

But like I said, that’s just a theory… a phan theory

(Not that I’m necessarily saying there was actually anything wedding/engagement/whatever happening at the time, it’s more just the sentiment of it)

#Pharriage hill #<3 #Dan and Phil #Phan

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stabbyfoxandrew · 2 days

Note

Hii

I'd like to request some arsonist Neil/firefighter Andrew, I missed last wipw and also them

Happy belated birthday and have a good week <3

WIP Wednesday (9/18) | Arsonist Neil / Firefighter Andrew AU (Part 237)

When Andrew rings him back, his first words are, “That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“Thought you said that was me.”

“...It’s still dumb.”

"It's original.” Neil argues. “I've never seen anything like it. And it's lifelike! It genuinely looks like a couple of you guys fighting a fire. Very neat."

"Neat perhaps, but they're missing the sneaky little arsonist slinking away to his car."

"What should I do, knock and tell them they forgot me?" Neil asks, earning a laugh that turns into a yawn. He imagines that scenario wouldn't exactly do wonders for his already problematic social anxiety. But it would be hilarious.

"Yes, you definitely should. The scene is not complete," Andrew says matter-of-factly. "Not lifelike at all without the cute little arsonist."

Neil pumps the brake much harder than he means to, the car lurches back and forth, and he very nearly bangs his head into the steering wheel. After all this time, he assumed he was more rigid than a crash dummy. But apparently not. Neil rubs his ear and wonders if Andrew really said that or if he's hearing things. After waiting for a couple of minutes, Neil decides Andrew isn't going to take it back and that has him a bit flustered. He doesn't remember if anyone's ever called him cute before.

He can't recall whether Andrew's ever said anything similar to him. He doesn't think so. He'd remember it, wouldn't he? Neil thinks for a second. He vaguely recalls Andrew asking whether arson was somehow about sex and Neil had denied it saying he didn't have any sexual desires, unmet or otherwise. But... He never asked Andrew whether he was into men or women. He never felt the need to, since he wasn't interested. But... He thinks he may be interested now. Neil considers asking him then he hears something like a snore from the other end.

"Are you asleep?" Neil asks, making Andrew's breathing hitch into the receiver.

"Huh? No, shut up." The firefighter answers. Neil allows himself a laugh and decides to ignore the ‘cute’ thing.

"Hey, you know... It's late. And you have work tomorrow."

"I'm aware."

"Then go to bed."

"I'm in bed." Andrew claims. Neil hears a sort of rustling sound that could be a blanket. But he can't see him. (Goddamn, he has to get a smartphone. As soon as possible.)

"Then go to sleep."

"Fine, if you insist." Andrew says. "Goodnight, firebug."

"Night, Mr. Firefighter."

#thank you dear!<333 #andreil #aftg #WIP Wednesday #Arsonist Neil / Firefighter Andrew #🕊️#answered #tessasilverswan

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pichiru · 1 day

Text

The Sun Also Smiles - Chapter 5

Chapters - [1] [2] [3] [4] [5]

Summary - With Mabel and Dipper's 16th birthday party on the horizon, Grunkle Stan takes to online dating to find a date for the party. Things start to get real weird real fast.

Word Count - 3,582

Pairing(s) - Stan Pines x OC

Genre(s): Romance, Comedy, Mystery

~~~~~~~~

“Sixer, is this really necessary?” Stan panted as he was running on a treadmill in their lab. He was keeping up just fine but of course he was a little winded. Being on a boat nonstop for two years will do that to you.

“Yes, it’s extremely necessary because I don’t want to wake up tomorrow morning and hear that my brother died from over exerting himself if he…” Ford cleared his throat with his fist over his mouth. “Happens to “get lucky” the night before.”

“Why do ya talk about sex like you’re the kids’ ages? Like ya don’t sneak off in the dead of night to be with Fiddleford,” Stan said loudly, unable to control the volume of his voice from running so much.

“Shut it!” Ford snapped as his face reddened from Stan’s words. He was completely unaware that his brother knew about that and now he was self conscious.

Stan cheesed, pleased with himself that he outed his brother the same way he outed him to the kids. “How much longer do I gotta run?? I gotta take another shower cuz of ya!”

“You should wanna freshen up before a date. Anyways, you can stop at any time. Nobody told you to run. I told you to just get on the treadmill. You’re the one who started running like there were demons chasing you,” Ford said in a snide tone.

“Oh for fuck’s sake…” Stan growled, immediately turning the treadmill down to a comfortable speed before hopping off. “Are your tests conclusive?” He asked as he went to the fridge that was in the lab. Ford spent long hours down here since they were back and Stan thought to get a fridge installed so he could stay hydrated at least. He saw a jug of water and sighed in relief.

“Yeah, yeah,” Ford said with his back to Stan, waving his hand dismissively. “You’ll do just fine if you get lucky tonight. I have no doubts. Just watch that your heart doesn’t start feeling funny,” he explained while he wrote on a piece of paper.

Meanwhile, Stan was chugging the water and let out a loud sigh then burped loudly. He put the half finished jug in the fridge and closed it. He wiped his mouth followed by his forehead to get rid of what sweat he could for the moment.

“If I do get lucky, can I bring her down here? Don’t wanna scar the kids. Not somethin they need to be around honestly,” he half joked.

“Yeah, sure,” Ford said, waving his hand again. He wasn’t paying attention in the slightest anymore. He was too focused on what he was doing to hear any of what Stan was saying.

“Loser says, yeah?” Stan said quickly.

“Yea- Oh, good grief,” Ford groaned, putting his head in his hand in defeat. Stan’s obnoxious laughter could be heard receding as he went upstairs to get ready for his date.

Mabel was sitting in Stan’s recliner when he came up from the lab. He walked into the living room.

“Hiiii, Grunkle Stan,” she said cutely.

“Hi, Pumpkin,” he said, ruffling her hair affectionately as he walked past her. “Bein good?”

“As alwaaayyyssss,” Mabel said with a grin.

“Good. Take care of your brother tonight for me, alright? He seems like he needs a lot of support right now.” Stan started up the steps then stopped and looked at Mabel.

“Can I ask you somethin?”

“Anything for yooouuuuu!” She chirped happily.

“What should I get her for our first date?” He asked shyly, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm,” Mabel hummed for what felt like centuries.

“Cmon kid, I ain’t got all day,” he said playfully.

“She looks like the type to enjoy flowers if they were very specific flowers,” she said honestly.

“Specific flowers?” Stan asked, intrigued by this thought process now.

“Yeah like don’t get her just any old bouquet of random flowers. I’ve seen rose and sunflower bouquets. The red and yellow look soooooooooooo good together. Also! She just seems like a sunflower kinda lady. You know that special fact about sunflowers right?”

“No?” Stan said in a tone that gave his confusion away immediately.

“Sunflowers always face the sun no matter what. And I think, if I remember correctly, if there’s no sun, they face each other. So you could be all corny, hand her the bouquet, and say, “wow! I didn’t know you were the sun with the way these sunflowers are facing you!” Or something like that,” Mabel mimicked in her best Stan voice.

Stan stared at her with a deadpan expression, not buying it in the least bit. “I’ll get her the flowers but there’s no way in hell I’m sayin all that.”

“Why nootttttt! It’s cute! I think she’d appreciate it!” she pouted cutely.

“I think she’d laugh me out of house and home,” Stan chuckled.

“Noooooo! She’s really nice! I don’t think she’d do that to you,” she said, nodding to emphasize her point.

“If you say so kid. Anyway, I’m gonna go get dressed. Don’t let the tv or the phone rot your brain,” Stan said, walking up the stairs.

“Suuuurrreeee!” She said before whipping her phone out immediately and texting the group chat she had with Grenda and Candy.

Mabel said:

Guuuuyyysssss

Candy said:

What’s up Mabel!

Mabel said:

My Grunkle Stan is going on a date tonight and I kinda wanna spy on them 😼😽

Grenda said:

Spy on them?? How would you do that?

Mabel said:

Welllllllllll the driving age is 16 here and Candy is 16,,,,,,,,,,and she has her driver’s license,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

Mabel said:

😼😼😼

Candy said:

I don’t think my parents would let me drive this late in the day

Mabel said:

That’s why yooouuuuuuuuu sneak ouuuuttttt. Just this one time! Please please please please please please pleeeeaaaassseeeeeeereeee 🙏🏻

Candy said:

Sighhhhhhhhh fine. This one ☝🏻 (1) time

Grenda said:

OOOOOOH SPY MISSION SPY MISSION!!!

Mabel said:

Operation Date Night is a go 😈

Mabel hopped up from the chair then hurried up to her and Maze's bedroom. "Maze! Maze, Maze, Maze!" She repeated excitedly but enough to where Stan couldn't hear if he happened to be listening too hard.

"Whaaaaaaaat?" Maze asked in an annoyed tone. He was laying on his bed and reading a comic book when Mabel jumped on his bed.

"Wanna go on a spy mission with me and the girls?" she asked as she got extremely close to Maze's face. Her nose was pressed against his cheek which made her breathe heavily on him over and over again.

"A spy mission? Who are you spying on?" he asked, looking out of the corner of his eye so he didn't move to look at her.

"Grunkle Staaaaaannnnnnnn."

Maze fully turned his head to look at his insanity driven sister. "Mabel, isn't that a little...extreme?"

"Well yeah but don't you wanna make sure that this lady isn't some weirdo freak?" She retorted simply. "I wanna make sure Grunkle Stan is happy and taken care of in his old...er...age. That's all."

Maze sighed heavily. "Okay, even if I agreed to go along with this insane plan, how would we even get there?"

"Candy has her license," Mabel said in a singsong voice as she grinned from ear to ear.

He stared at Mabel for what seemed like 117 business days. "Fine," he said simply. "But if this goes downhill for us, I'm gonna say I told you so. Deal?"

Mabel laughed at that. "Deal!"

"Do you even know where they're going?" he asked.

"I asked Grunkle Ford and he said that they're going to some...wine tasting event at the art gallery. I dunno. Adults are weird," she explained.

"Huh. I knew Grunkle Stan was the artsy type but I didn't think he'd share that so readily with someone he just met. I only found out from Grunkle Ford recently in a correspondence from when they were out on their voyage."

"Mhm, mhm," she responded, nodding her head with her arms folded across her chest thoughtfully. "I'm gonna tell Candy to come get us after Grunkle Stan leaves. I know exactly which gallery they're going to. It's so nice from what I remember."

"Okay. Come get me when they're here and you're ready," Maze said, giving her a quick nod before going back to reading his comic book.

"You're the best little brother I could ever ask for!" Mabel said as she tackle hugged him.

"Hey, hey! Easy on the little stuff!" He said in a strained voice, starting to blush.

"I thought you were over that stuff??"

"Sometimes," he grumbled in response.

"Maze, you're always gonna be the little brother. You just have to learn to live with it at this point," Mabel teased, poking his side which caused him to flinch from being ticklish in that spot.

"Yeah, yeah. Sure," he laughed gently.

About an hour passed before Stan emerged from his room. There was a tolerable smell of cologne wafting off of him and his hair was done perfectly to his standards. He had on a black button up shirt with a fancier than usual, but still simple, gold chain adorned around his neck. His pants were simple but he definitely put on his best pair of shoes for this event. He even put in some old earrings he forgot he had.

Nobody ever really noticed except Ford because his hair was shaggy majority of the time but Stan had six piercings. Three on each ear. One on each lobe and two going up the outsides of his ears. There were two gold hoops and four gold studs. The man even shaped up his beard of all things. He felt amazing and most of all, ecstatic, about this date.

"Kids?" Stan called to the twins in the hallway. "I'm headin out! Be nice and try not to kill each other. Take care of Ford too!" he yelled out to them as he started down the hall to go down the stairs.

"Grunkle Stan!!" Quick and heavy footsteps could be heard closing the space behind Stan. Mabel held up her closed fist at him with her fingers facing upwards. "Give these to her," she said sweetly.

Stan turned to see what Mabel was going on about. "What is it?" he asked with a quirked eyebrow as he stared at her closed hand.

Mabel opened her hand to reveal a pair of well made conversation heart earrings that read, "Be Mine" and "Sweetheart". One was yellow and the other was pink. "She seems like a conversation heart kinda gal. Tell her you commissioned me for these and watch how fast she swoons," she suggested with a wink.

Stan stared at the earrings then took them from her gently. He smiled at the gesture and closed his hand around them. "Thanks, Pumpkin. Appreciate this a lot." He leaned down and kissed the top of her head.

She giggled and blushed shyly. "Let me know how she likes them!!"

"I will. Solana's an artist too and I know she'll appreciate how much work ya put into this, kid." Stan smiled at her gratefully while he patted the top of her head lovingly.

Her eyes sparkled at that fact. "I'd love to see her work some time!"

"I'm sure she wouldn't mind showin ya. Just be patient, yeah?"

Mabel nodded quickly, pursing her lips at the same time. "I got ya!" She winked at him.

"Okay, I gotta get goin," he said as he checked the flashy time piece he had on his left arm. "Don't wanna be late to my first date in years." He chuckled. A date. That felt funny to say out loud.

"Yeah! Gogogoogogogogo!" She urged eagerly, pushing him to go down the stairs faster. "I wanna hear all about it when you get home!"

Stan laughed to himself. As if he'd tell her every single thing. Especially if things were to get a little heated like they did earlier at the store. He made it to the bottom of the stairs intact, no thanks to Mabel still pushing him. She didn't stop until they were at the front door. "Gooooooooo!"

"I'm goin, I'm goin!" he snorted, opening the door to leave. "Be good, kid." Stan closed the door behind himself and walked to his car.

Mabel whipped out her phone immediately and texted the new group chat that she'd made with Maze, Candy, and Grenda.

Mabel said:

Guys. Operation Date Night is a go. 😈

Candy said:

Got it. On my way. 🚗

Grenda said:

I'M SO EXCITED!! 🗣

Maze said:

Ready as I can be to spy on my grunkle

On the drive to the gallery, Stan sang along to the radio to every song that played. Either he listened to the radio too much or they needed to find new songs to play for once. Maybe it was both. He didn't really care either way. It was a way to work off the nerves he was feeling the closer he got to the gallery.

He'd already met her and kissed her but he still wanted to make a good impression on her anyway. He _had_ to. There had to be some way to make for his behavior earlier. Hopefully the earrings Mabel made for her would butter her up even more in his favor. Make it look like he loved his niece and believed in her work. Which does. Obviously.

Once he arrived, he parked the car and cut the radio off to sit there in silence. The nerves were creeping back up on him slowly the longer he sat there in deep thought.

Stan reached in his pocket for his phone to see if Solana messaged him. And by a stroke of luck, she did.

Solana said:

I'm inside whenever you get here. I'm the one in the long and frilly off the shoulder affair 😋🖤 It's all black

Stan 🖤🖤🖤 said:

Alright I'm here I'll be in

Solana smiled at the message before putting her phone back into her purse and waiting for Stan. She was just as nervous as he was, surprisingly. She started fidgeting with her hands to try and work some of the energy off.

Breathe in.

It's okay.

Breathe out.

He's a nice guy. He won't be weird.

Breathe in.

What's to be nervous about?

Breathe out.

What if he thought she was…promiscuous…for throwing herself at him?

Breathe in.

He definitely thought that.

Breathe out. Breathe in.

Oh God.

Breathe out. Breathe in. Breath out.

He does.

In. Out. In. Out.

He does???

In. Out. In. Out. In. Out. In. Out. In. Out. In…

He does.

The speed of her breathing quickened alongside the speed of her thoughts. It started to become overwhelming almost immediately. Everything around her started to sound extremely deafening but unintelligible gibberish at the same time. Her head started spinning the longer she sat there with herself. It became unbearable.

"...ana?" A voice said through the fog.

"Huh?" She said softly, trying to figure out where it was coming from.

"Solana?" Stan's voice said clearly, snapping her back to reality promptly.

"S-Stan," Solana said softly as she tried to compose herself. She adjusted the strap of her purse on her shoulder. After shaking her head a little to reduce the fog in her brain, she saw Stan clearly. Smelled him too. He smelled so...*good*.

Stan was standing there with a bouquet of roses and sunflowers like Mabel suggested with a distressed look on his face. He was worried sick about the state Solana seemed to be in at the moment.

“Wow, you look fucking amazing,” she complimented as she looked him from head to toe a few times over. “The sexy black shirt. We just so happened to wear all black and match? That’s cute. And oooh, the earrings? You really pulled out all the stops,” she rambled, trying to get the residual nerves to go away at this point.

Stan’s entire face turned red at the compliments she rapidly fired at him. He was completely speechless.

“I…uh…speakin of earrings. I…I had these commissioned for you. From my niece,” Stan said after clearing his throat. He pulled earrings from a little part on the bouquet and handed them to her in a decorative baggie. The florist did him a solid and gave him a mini bag for them.

Solana took the baggie gently and opened it then poured them into her hand. A soft look plastered itself on her face. It was an expression that held admiration for Stan and happiness that he’d even think of something like this so quickly.

“Stan, I…”

“Oh! It’s not me askin ya to do anything ya don’t wanna,” he said quickly, his embarrassment becoming much clearer the longer they stood there in silence. His neck and ears heated up.

Solana stepped forward then stretched onto her tippy toes in her heels to place a kiss on his lips. Stan cleared his throat to hide the pride he felt in getting another kiss from her.

“Thank you. I love these. I’ll put them on right now, actually.” And she did just that. As she was putting them on, she finally turned her full attention to what was in Stan’s hands.

“Flowers? For me?” She asked, tears clear in her tone. “Homemade earrings and a bouquet of flowers so delicately made and designed? For me?” She asked again as she started sniffling.

“WAIT, why are you cryin!” Stan said, holding his free hand out at her. Admittedly, he didn’t know what to do with her like this so he waited until she told him what she needed.

“Should I get ya some tissues??” He asked worriedly.

“No, no. I’m fine,” she said through her copious amounts of sniffles as she pulled a jet black and lace trimmed handkerchief from her cleavage. Stan blinked at that motion. That was…kinda hot. Solana started dabbing her the waterline of her eyes with the cloth then patted her cheeks dry.

“I’m sorry. It’s just so sweet of you to do all of this and I don’t have anything for you.”

“S’fine, toots. I don’t need anything,” Stan deflected quickly.

Solana rolled her eyes. “That’s not what I asked or said. Now I have to get you something as equally or even more amazing than these gifts. Can I?” She asked, holding her hands out for the flowers.

“Oh, yeah. Sure. They’re all yours,” he said while putting the flowers into her hands gently. “I got ya sunflowers cuz ya been lightin up my life like the purest ray of sunshine since we met and sunflowers always face the sun no matter what. So…yeah.” He took Mabel’s advice but he tried to doctor it up a little from what she originally said.

“Stan, that is…” She started sniffling again. “That’s the sweetest thing a man has ever said to me. You got game, old man,” she joked through her stifled tears.

“Yeah, you know, I try,” he said with a shrug and charming half smile that could only be interpreted as him trying to be humble but failing miserably.

Solana giggled at his attempt to seem nonchalant. “You’re so funny,” she sniffled once more, wiping her eyes and cheeks again. After she did that, she folded the handkerchief up and put it back in her cleavage.

“Are you…ready to get this show on the road? It’s a night of fine wine and fine art beside a fine man.”

“With a fine lady on my arm,” Stan added before holding out his arm for her to take.

She let out an excited but quiet “ooh” sound then took his arm just as he wanted her to. “Wanna get the wine before or after the art?”

“After. I don’t wanna be tipsy for this,” he said honestly.

“I respect that so much,” she said sweetly. “Lead the way?”

“Glad to do it, toots.” Stan started towards the beginning of the gallery with his date on his arm and his confidence through the roof. He leaned down closer to her ear. “Ya look great by the way. I’m diggin the whole goth vibe. It’s sexy,”he said in a low voice.

“Oh!” She said as her face flushed. “Thank you.”

As they walked deeper into the gallery, Mabel, Maze, Candy, and Grenda were peeking around a corner and watching from afar. Mabel and Candy were borderline crying at how Stan managed to pull everything together and make it cohesive.

“I am so proud of him!” Candy nearly sobbed.

“The sunshine line was my idea. He just dressed it up a bit,” Mabel said in a wavering voice as her bottom lip quivered.

Maze rolled his eyes and, of course, put his hands in his pockets. “You guys are so mushy.”

“Guys, they’re getting away from us! We have to focus!” Grenda said as she grabbed Mabel’s face and held it tightly in place. “We have to see,” she whispered.

“Grenda’s right. We gotta go!” Mabel said in a louder than she should voice. Maze immediately covered her mouth.

“Do you wanna ruin your own covert operation??” He asked her. She shook her head. “Then we gotta be quieter so we don’t get found out. Got it?” She nodded and he removed his hand from her mouth.

“Let’s go,” Candy whispered, sneaking forward to try and catch up to Stan and Solana at a reasonable distance. Everyone else crept beside her.

#gravity falls #gravity falls fandom #stanley pines #original character #Stan Pines x OC #online dating #Mabel Pines #Dipper Pines #stanford pines #fanfiction #fanfic #romance #ocs #oc insert #self insert #self indulgent #bill cipher

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sondheim-girly · 1 day

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for @world-burnn, stagedoor was awesome!

it was pretty quiet and not too crowded (still kinda crowded, but it didn’t feel as insane as I’ve seen in pictures) i left during bows and got barricade. The girl next to me was saying how bad she felt to leave during bows and I was like “ahhh same!” oh my god and I was shaking so bad… my character shoes are partly to blame but like my legs were going crazy!

my cousin got videos of a lot of my interactions but I’m way too scared to rewatch them so im gonna go off of memory!

first Brent came out, and I was right at the door so when he walked out he looked at me and said “Marcia!” Then continued on to sign other people’s playbills before he came back around to me.

RJ came out but I can’t remember for the life of me what I said to him

i got to meet Dre and I told him how glad I was that I got to see him (cuz he’s only in the show for a month) and he was so sweet

kwp lowkey looked so brain dead during stagedoor and I do not blame him 😭 but we got a photo together and he put his arm around me and I think i passed away

Josh strobl came out (not to sign, he wasn’t in the show that day lol) and I just watched him walk away and was fangirling so hard tbh

melody came out and complimented my costume! I told her I’d cried off all my makeup and she said she would have done the same, then told me that sg would be coming out soon (which was a lie)

Emma came out and was THE SWEETEST EVER!!! She took her time with all of the fans, and with one of them she commented on how quiet it was and the fan jokingly asked if they should all be louder and she was like “yeah we should all hum our favorite songs” and it was sooo funny. when she turned to me she was like “right… and you ate” and kept on complimenting my costume which KILLED ME she was so nice… I told her my friend had made it and she was like “well tell the friend that it’s amazing!” And i gave her the letter I wrote to her (which she was again so sweet about) and when I asked her for a photo she was like “well Marcia and Cherry are best friends!”

then Trevi came out and I told him how glad I was that I got to see his ponyboy and he was really sweet

Anyways I love this cast so much and it was just an incredible experience!

#jean has thoughts #the outsiders musical #the outsiders broadway #Jeans broadway trip #brent comer #the outsiders stagedoor #rj higton #andre malcolms #kevin william paul #josh strobl #melody rose #emma pittman #trevor wayne

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waltergoldpreppy · 2 days

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Good Golden morning for Anthony

The next morning, at exactly 7am, Anthony is woken from his sleep by a notification on his phone. A message from Waltergold containing a video. Still half asleep, he unlocks his phone and opens the video. The screen flickers with a strange mix of white and Gold lights, hypnotic. The soundtrack, a low, repetitive melody, fills his ears as he instinctively puts on his headphones.

He hesitates for a moment. He knows the video is an hour long, but he can't help but stare at the screen, fascinated by the Golden sparkles dancing before him. "It's just a video," he tells himself. Yet something about the flicker captivates him more than he would like. Gradually, his eyelids become heavy, and his mind blurs, as if he's dissolving into the Golden flow.

Lorsqu’il cligne enfin des yeux, une heure s’est écoulée sans qu’il ne s’en aperçoive. Il regarde l’horloge de son téléphone, incrédule. Il est 8h15. « Merde, je suis en retard ! » Son cœur s’emballe. Il sursaute, se précipite vers la salle de bain. Sous la douche, une pensée étrange lui traverse l’esprit. Il se souvient d’un détail presque oublié ; lors de son entretien d’embauche, son patron avait évoqué un code vestimentaire au travail. À l’époque, Anthony n’y avait pas prêté attention, préférant ses vêtements décontractés. Mais aujourd’hui, pour une raison qu’il n’arrive pas à expliquer, cette règle lui paraît soudain indispensable.

En sortant de la douche, ses mains s'attardent plus longtemps que d'habitude sur son visage, son menton, ses cheveux. Il se sent étrangement préoccupé par son apparence. Il ouvre son placard et, au lieu de prendre sa tenue décontractée habituelle, il se retrouve à chercher des vêtements plus formels. Son esprit est embrumé, mais une certitude émerge : il doit se conformer. C'est comme si une voix intérieure lui disait que suivre les règles est la seule option.

Il sort une chemise en coton blanc immaculé. La matière est douce, presque soyeuse sous ses doigts. Il la fait glisser sur son torse, ajustant chaque bouton avec une précision méticuleuse. Puis, il attrape un pantalon gris anthracite, en laine légère. Il ne se souvient même plus pourquoi il a ce pantalon, mais il le trouve parfait aujourd'hui. Enfilant de fines chaussettes noires et des chaussures de ville en cuir noir brillant, il est surpris par la sensation du cuir sur sa peau, raide et structurée, à l'opposé du confort de ses baskets habituelles.

Devant le miroir, il hésite avant d’ajouter une cravate bleu marine, à peine texturée. Il l’enroule autour de son cou, serrant le nœud avec une précision surprenante pour quelqu’un qui en a à peine porté une. La soie de la cravate glisse doucement entre ses doigts, et il ajuste le nœud jusqu’à ce qu’il soit parfaitement centré et serré. Un dernier détail saute aux yeux : ses cheveux. Il ramasse un pot de gel qui traînait dans son tiroir, se demandant brièvement pourquoi il fait ça, puis l’applique généreusement, en peignant ses cheveux sur le côté avec une raie parfaitement visible. Le gel brille à la lumière, fixant ses cheveux impeccablement. En voyant son reflet, il se sent à la fois étrangement satisfait et troublé. Pourquoi cette obsession soudaine ?

As he leaves for the office, a feeling of absolute control washes over him. The tight, well-fitting clothes reinforce a sense of discipline he has never felt before. The wool of the pants gently rubs against his legs with each step, the collar of his shirt is slightly tight around his neck, and the knot of his tie exerts a constant, almost reassuring pressure.

At the office, reactions are quick to come. As soon as he walks through the door, his colleagues look up, surprised. This sudden change in style does not go unnoticed.

“Wow, Anthony, this is the first time I’ve seen you dressed so smartly!” exclaims one of his colleagues.

“Do you have an interview with the bosses or something?” jokes another.

Anthony sketches an awkward smile, his cheeks slightly red, not really knowing what to say. He shrugs, mumbling something unintelligible about a “change of mood”. But that’s not the real reason. He knows it. There’s this inner voice, this impulse that pushed him to put on these formal clothes. He has a hard time understanding it, but it’s there, still echoing in his head.

Throughout the day, he receives compliments on his appearance. He finds himself enjoying the admiring glances. Yet, every chance he gets near a mirror, he can’t help but check his hair, running his hand through the gel to make sure his parting is still well defined. His tie knot becomes a silent obsession, which he adjusts constantly, even when no one is looking.

Despite the remarks and questions, Anthony easily focuses on his work. His thoughts also often drift to that morning video, to that strange feeling of obedience that now seems anchored in him. A part of him still resists, trying to understand what is happening, but another part, deeper, feels good in this new version of himself, more disciplined, more compliant.

The day finally ends. Anthony quickly greets his colleagues, escaping their curious glances, and goes home. He breathes a sigh of relief as he closes the door to his apartment behind him, but even at home, he cannot get rid of this strange feeling of discomfort and satisfaction mixed together.

(End of Part 3)

(Part 2)

#preppification #conformity #golden army #gold #ai generated #hypnotized #brainwashing #preppy #suit and tie #join us #gay men

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shiny-kaibernyte · 2 days

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hey there! if you’re taking requests, can i ask for a drayton and/or kieran x a male! reader who has a very punk/alt style and looks pretty intimidating but is actually very kind? maybe the reader specializes in ghost/dark types too

regardless, i hope you’re taking care of yourself, i love your writing!

I really really like this! I'm so sorry it took me so long to get to this request! As a Ghost/dark specialist myself, i'll use Pokemon i have on my own team for convenience. If you don't like it feel free to yell at me for taking so long and mucking it up! ANYWAY Happy reading.

Warning: Small amount of Angst

Pretend | Kieran x Male Reader

“Kieran… you really shouldn’t rush this! It’s okay to feel nervous. You're not ready and that’s okay, please… don’t push yourself for something out of your reach.” Sitting opposite Kieran hoping your words would reach through to him, and yet the table seemed to only be a small part of the gap between you.

A bang echoed through the dining room as Kieran slammed his fist on the floor, his voice coming out in a determined shout. “HELL NO! I’M READY I KNOW I AM! I’ll RETURN TO THAT WASH UP OF A SCHOOL AND SHOW EVERYONE HOW MUCH I’VE CHANGED!”

“Kieran calm down! I meant nothing by it, I’m simply saying, maybe wait another day before going back. After all, the spotlight’s going to be heavily on you… Are you… Sure you’re ready for that much attention?” Raising an eyebrow, a hint of worry in your voice, seemingly in an attempt to break through his facade and get through his shell.

Seems it worked

Kieran’s eyes fell to the floor, his head hung low, gripping his jeans so tightly. His knuckles turned white, and his palms read from the pressure. Tears began falling from his eyes, his voice coming out as nothing more than a shaking quiver of what it once was. “I don’t need you… to tell me that…”

“Kieran! I’m sorry please don’t c-” Barely a sentence out and Kieran’s voice breaks through your own.

“I’m not as strong as you… I can’t make people run from me the moment they see me walking down a hall… I can’t glare at someone like you can… make them show respect to you just by looking at them. You don’t even have to raise your voice… Just looking at you makes people's skin crawl. I’ve seen countless Pokémon hide behind their trainer or out right return to their balls… All because of how you look… Your team being all ghost types only helps you… The way you hold yourself up, I’ve never even seen you break a sweat… even in those outfits… How… how can I even comprehend facing that place again… With everything I have done to not only them… but to you? How can you sit across from me and show me the kindness you never show to others? How… Can you let me call you my boyfriend?”

“What are you talking about Kieran… where is all this coming from?” Unable to comprehend anything he was saying, your words only added fuel to this sombre fire within him.

“I Pretended… that’s how I got through. I held myself up by a thread, I pretended to be strong… I wanted to be stronger, I thought I was stronger than you… I needed to be stronger than you… To prove to myself I could protect you… the way you always have me. I pretended… Even when I never showed it to you, I followed you around like a lost Yamper. It’s dumb now that I say it aloud. Pushing you away from me at every step, and yet I admit how much I wanted to be like you… And yet after everything with Ogerpon… the academy… Area Zero. You never backed away from me…” As if a light switch had been flicked, his gaze was fixed upon your face, staring into you, with a look you couldn’t recognise, the tears that were still running down his face were no longer once of doubt and sorrow, but now determination and pride. “I see now… I don’t need to pretend any more. The thread doesn’t need to be held together any more, because it never existed in the first place. You… you were what was holding me up this whole time, I always wondered why I felt so secure around you. I thought before it was because of your alternative style and your Pokémon… That Chandelure of yours is intimidating, it alone took out most of my team. But now I realise you were simply trying to find me…”

A chuckle, that was all that escaped your lips as your arms crossed your chest, leaning back against the wall behind you. The lights on the ceiling blinding your vision as you stare into them, seemingly trying to find the words to compare what he had said, and yet you came up empty. Kieran’s words ring true in your ears. Seems his momentary outburst was all he needed to realise what you had been trying to do ever since the festival.

“What I'm trying to say is… thank you, for never giving up on me. When I met you, I thought you were this… delinquent waiting to punch the first worm you saw in your way, and yet, the way you smiled at me, was something I wouldn't give up for all the riches in this world. Why you chose me to give your kindness to, I will never understand. So again, thank you a thousand times over.” Kieran finally coming down from his outburst, his gaze softening as he played your meeting in his head.

“No need to thank me… You’re a good guy Kieran, don’t let those doubts get to you. I’ll always be here to hold you up.” That was the exact moment your Pokémon decided to show up. The sound of three poke balls opening echoed through the room, one of which caused Kieran to fall back off the pillow and onto the floor. Chandelure, Phantump and Ceruledge, all showing up at the same time. Phantump seemed to be the most affectionate towards Kieran as it flew around his head on the floor.

Chandelure spun for a moment in a silent celebration. Ceruledge simply stood by your side as you leaned forwards again, looking at your boyfriend on the floor. Kieran suddenly sprung up in almost a comedic way, only to be met by Ceruledge's piercing gaze. Though he wasn’t afraid, inspired is the word that came to his mind. A sparkle in his eye, and a bright determined grin, it would seem foolish to think just a few minutes ago he was crying a river into his jeans as voicing his heart's broken poetry to you. “I’m ready to go back! If I'm lucky enough to call you my boyfriend then I'm not going to back down again. Besides, even though I'm no longer leading the league any more, I still have a score to settle with Drayton.”

Your Phantump waved its arms around in the air, its cheeks puffing out for a moment as if trying to mimic Kieran’s new-found strength. “I’ll be right here with you, ready to scare off those who get in your way” The last part came out as a mockery, you wouldn’t really scare anyone, on purpose that is.

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