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[finelinefae]

the game [tennisplayer!harry x tennisplayer!y/n]

synopsis: y/n's desperate to play tennis and who better to coach her than her rival

word count: 6.7k

contains: enemies to lovers, set at a boarding school, jealous h, slow burn, angst, tennis rivals

a/n: this is the very first part of a new series that i am soooooo beyond excited to be writing !! it will most likely have 4/5 parts <333 enjoy !!!

. . .

Crestwood Academy was a prestigious boarding school with a mission to cultivate excellence in its students, many of whom went on to achieve great success in their respective fields. Nestled amidst rolling hills and lush greenery, it welcomed only the most accomplished families into its esteemed halls.

Y/N had attended Crestwood Academy since she was five, thanks to her father, who owned a country club and could afford the tuition. Her parents, strict and focused on success, were determined to give her the best education possible so that she could be the very best. Her face was always buried in a book or spending her days in the library, right up until the very last minute of its opening hours. 

It was her final year at Crestwood Academy before graduation. Y/N had been set on passing all of her exams at the top of her class so had been working extra hard. She studied English, maths, all three sciences, Latin, French and History as well as tennis. 

Y/N's parents had always urged her to pursue a career in the top industries. Despite her efforts to feign interest in that direction, her heart had always belonged to tennis ever since she first took up the sport at Crestwood.

She had competed plenty, winning all the academy trophies and medals. Her parents would visit whenever she competed in finals and congratulated her on winning but saw it as nothing but a hobby to participate in when she wasn’t studying. 

However, Y/N couldn’t deny herself the rush of playing knowing she’d have to part with the sport once she graduated. The career path of becoming a doctor was already laid out for her by her parents but she felt destined to follow a different path. 

Despite the fact she had applied to dozens of schools to study medicine, she still had one more option that had nothing to do with science at all. 

Every year, the academies hosted their own version of a grand slam in which the winning player received a scholarship and three years' worth of training from one of the top tennis academies in the world. Y/N longed to be at the top with the greats and she knew that this competition was the only way she could get there. 

For the most part, Y/N had been self-taught. She watched videos online and took notes from the Wimbledon matches she’d see on the television. Crestwood only had one sports coach who focused most of their time on the football team so if she was going to win the scholarship, she needed the very best. 

She sat on the bleachers, her book open in front of her, but her attention was drawn to the man on the court. The player’s movements were fluid and powerful, each action deliberate and precise. Yet, it was another man who held her gaze—a figure with an impassive expression, focused solely on his player.

When the match was over, Y/N slammed her book shut and walked towards the court after the players shook hands. Her eyes looked down at the limp in his step as he walked towards the cooler to grab a water bottle. 

It had been a while since she had last seen him. She remembered the proud look on his parent’s faces when he was pulled out of Crestwood eighteen months ago and went on to win a grand slam in Australia. She could still feel the intense jealousy that filled her as she watched the match on television whilst studying for her chemistry test that he was also supposed to sit had he stayed. 

Now he was here, back to his roots and maybe it had been fate because what she was about to ask him would determine her own path in the tennis career she longed for. 

His hair was slightly longer now, his brunette, touseled curls were swept to the side in a loose, dishevelled manner. He wore sunglasses to cover his eyes from the sunlight and a navy tracksuit paired with white vans. 

Seeing him brought back the once competitive emotions she had whenever she’d see him strut about the courts every lunchtime but she’d have to suppress those emotions, especially for what she was about to ask him. 

“Excuse me, Harry?” Y/N called out. 

He took a water bottle from the cooler and flicked off the cap before holding it to his lips and gulping it down. Y/N waited, crossing her arms as she did. “I’ve been waiting for you to show up.” Was the first thing he said. 

Y/N didn’t know what to say. It was unexpected to know that he had been waiting to see her, “I didn’t know you were part of the furniture on these courts,” He smirks and Y/N’s jaw ticks. “And you still sit in the exact same spot on those bleachers, to what? Admire me?”

Y/N bristled at Harry's cocky remark, her irritation bubbling to the surface. "Hardly," she retorted, her tone sharp. "I have better things to do than waste my time watching you play."

Harry chuckled, his smirk widening as he leaned against the cooler. "Is that so? Then what brings you here?" he asked, his tone laced with curiosity. “Come to get an autograph?”

Y/N squared her shoulders, determined not to let his arrogance get under her skin. "I was actually hoping to talk to you about something," she replied, her voice steady despite the nerves fluttering in her stomach.

Harry raised an eyebrow, his interest piqued. "Oh? And what might that be?" he inquired, his gaze piercing as he studied her intently.

Taking a deep breath, Y/N gathered her courage and suppressed her pride, "I want you to coach me," she blurted out, her words hanging in the air between them. 

Harry made no effort to hide the surprise on his face but it quickly melted into a cocky smirk, “You want me to coach you? I thought you hated me?” 

“I do,” She replies quickly. She’d hated him ever since he had humiliated her in a battle of the sexes tennis tournament when they were young despite the fact she had little chance of winning against him anyway. “But I don’t have to like you to recognise your talent and right now you're the best and only coach I can get if I’m going to win that scholarship,”

Harry’s eyebrows furrowed slightly, “Your parents still want you to study medicine?” Something flickered in his eyes that Y/N couldn’t put her finger on. 

Y/N wasn’t going to give him an answer even though it was obvious, “This is the only chance I get to escape it,” She mutters, “I wouldn’t ask unless I was desperate.”

He glanced around before taking a step forward. She was tempted to step back at the same time but she didn’t want to seem intimidated by him so stood her ground. From this proximity, she noticed how much taller he was compared to her - almost an entire foot. 

“What’s in it for me?” He asked.

Y/N knew he’d ask which was why she spent so much time figuring out what she could tell him to make it worthwhile. “I know about your injury,” She says and he stills.

“Everyone knows about my injury.” He grumbles. 

It had been a spectacle in the world of tennis. The new grand slam winner loses out on his second after a fatal injury at the French Open. Y/N remembered seeing him rolling on the ground, holding onto his leg as paramedics ran onto the court to aid him. 

“People think you’re a one-hit wonder since you’re out for the season,” His jaw clenched as she spoke, “But if you coach me and get me to win, I guarantee you’ll be out on the court again - back where you belong,”

“You think an academy league game can get my back onto the court?”

“No, but it's a start and maybe I’ll be competing alongside you the next time you’re playing.” 

There was a moment of silence as Harry absorbed her words, his gaze searching hers for any hint of insincerity. Finding none, he let out a heavy sigh, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. "Fine," he relented, his voice tinged with resignation. "You want me to coach you? Prove you’re worth coaching.” 

He walked over to the barrel of tennis rackets and picked one up. Y/N narrowed her eyes, remembering the last time they had played against each other and how embarrassed she was afterwards. 

“But you’re-”

“One game won’t hurt,” He said before she could finish. 

She followed, her steps purposeful as she reached for a racket, flipping it over in her hands as she strode to the other end of the court. Despite being clad in her school uniform—a pleated skirt, white shirt with the school crest, and loafers that threatened to slide off her feet—she was determined to prove herself. She'd show him she was worth his time, that she was a far better tennis player than he gave her credit for.

As they took their positions on opposite ends of the court, the tension between them crackled in the air. Y/N gripped her racket tightly, her focus sharp as she prepared to face off against Harry once again.

The first serve sliced through the air, the sound echoing as the ball hurtled towards Y/N. She moved with fluidly, her muscles tensing as she returned the serve.

Harry's response was swift, his movements confident as he returned the ball with a well-placed shot that left Y/N scrambling to keep up. Even with his injury, he still held the precision of a professional. But she refused to back down, her determination driving her to match him shot for shot, rally after rally.

The game intensified as they traded blows, each point reflecting their skills and determination. Y/N's heart pounded in her chest as she fought to keep pace with Harry, her mind focused solely on the ball. Both Y/N and Harry vocally exerted their energy through grunts and cries as they hit the ball with all their energy. 

Despite her efforts, Harry seemed to anticipate her every move. But Y/N refused to be outdone, drawing on every ounce of strength and skill as she fought to gain the upper hand.

As the game progressed, Harry's skill and experience began to overthrow her. His shots were close to perfect and strategic, leaving Y/N struggling to keep up. Despite her determination, she found herself falling behind as Harry continued to dominate the match.

In the end, it was Harry who emerged victorious, his final shot landing just beyond Y/N's reach with a satisfying thud. As the ball bounced out of the court, Y/N knew that she had been outplayed.

She rested her hands on her knees, hunched over as she tried to regain her breath. She couldn’t help but feel disappointed that she’d lost despite the fact she was at a disadvantage anyway. 

Harry’s shadow fell over her but she refused to look up just yet. He spoke anyway, “You’ve gotten better since the last time I saw you,” He spoke, holding a cold water bottle in front of her face. 

She took it, the plastic crackling under her fingers, “You can just say you’re not going to do it,” She mumbled, unscrewing the cap and taking a swig of water. 

“I’ll coach you,” He says, “Meet me here at 6 pm tomorrow.” 

Y/N finally looked up, her mouth parted, only to find his back facing her as he walked away from the courts. 

. . . 

Harry had no idea what he had agreed to in coaching Y/N at tennis. 

He sat in his luxurious apartment ten minutes away from Crestwood Academy, surrounded by furniture wrapped in plastic or still in cardboard boxes. 

He sat on the couch with his feet resting on the coffee table in front of him and a glass of whiskey in his hand. The TV was playing quietly in front of him but his mind was on the girl he had spent the majority of his life competing with. 

She had grown since the last time he had seen her before he graduated and left the country to compete in the Australian Open. Her long, tanned legs were on show beneath the grey school skirt she had been wearing. He couldn’t seem to get the image of the visible muscles in her calves out of his mind as she moved across the court to hit the ball during their impromptu tennis match. 

Despite their personal differences, Harry couldn't resist her. There was an undeniable thrill in riling her up, in watching her reactions to the smallest digs. They had once been friends, back when Y/N would trail after him on the playground, eager to understand how to hit a ball with a tennis racket. But as she began competing in school competitions, she quickly learned that beating him was an impossible feat. 

He wasn’t surprised to see her watching him on the court today, in fact, it amused him. Whether she liked it or not, he would always look out in the bleachers for her whenever he’d play during his time at the academy. Her reactions were what kept him going, some might even say made him better. 

But, he couldn’t deny the fact that he was surprised to see her so brazenly asking him to coach her. He could tell by her reaction that it was killing her inside, to be coached by him when all she’d done was pick apart his technique, but it was clear she was desperate and Harry knew it was because of her parents. 

Harry had had his fair dose of strict parentage. When he was told he could no longer play tennis for the season, his parents shipped him straight back to Crestwood to finish his final year since he never actually graduated. 

He loathed them for it, barely saying a word to them as they paid the rent in cash for his apartment and left him with boxes to unpack on his own. He knew they were disappointed in him despite the fact the injury was no fault of his own, they could barely look at him as they left, closing the door behind them. 

It was embarrassing. How could he have gone from being at the top of his game to the very bottom? Now he was back in the place he had turned his back on, feeling like he was back to square one all over again. 

Harry’s thoughts were broken by the sound of his phone ringing. The name of his best friend since he was born lit up the screen.

“What?” Harry answered the call, his train of thought forming a particular level of intolerance in him.

“Hey, is that any way to talk to your best friend?” Mitch replied along with the sound of loud chattering in the background because he always had to be somewhere with someone. 

“Sorry,” Harry huffed, “Long day.”

“Already? You’ve not even started classes yet,” Mitch chuckled.

“Don’t remind me,” Harry hadn’t even begun thinking about being back in classrooms and having to put up with kids his age berating him with questions he didn’t want to answer. Tomorrow would be his first day back and he was dreading it.

“C’mon now, don’t be too glum about it, haven’t you missed me?” 

“No,” Harry lied. 

“I know you well enough now to know when you’re lying.” Mitch laughed down the phone. 

A hint of a smile grazed Harry’s lips, "Whatever," he replied, his tone gruff but lacking conviction. Despite his attempt to feign disinterest, a part of him couldn't deny the truth in Mitch's words. There had been many moments he had experienced after leaving school when he missed the company of people his own age. Everyone around him was older than he was and spoke to him as though he was some prized trophy that needed to be handled with caution. He’d spend evenings by the pool by himself, watching the sunset and wishing his friends were there to celebrate his win with him. 

"I'll take that as a yes," Mitch teased, “I know the boys will be happy to have y’ back and I can introduce you to Sarah. I think Molly Brown still has a thing for you as well by the way, talks about you all the fuckin’ time.” Harry listened to his friend ramble about all the things he had missed in the last year or so but his mind seemed to travel elsewhere. 

His eyes wandered around the room, his ear still pressed to his phone, until they landed on an open box with a picture frame resting on top. He recognized the photo immediately, even without picking it up, because he had kept it hidden in his old dorm desk. In the picture, a group of eight students—four boys and four girls—smiled at the camera, with Harry standing at the back and Y/N right beside him.

. . . 

Y/N slammed the door of her locker shut after pulling out her workbooks for her next class. Students bustled down the hallways of Crestwood Academy, wearing their navy blazers and uniform for another week of school. 

“Have you seen him yet?” Sarah, Y/N’s best friend, came out of nowhere and stood in front of her. 

“Seen who?” Y/N remained indifferent even though she knew who Sarah was referring to. 

Everyone had been talking about Harry since she had walked into school from her dorm room this morning. It was the main topic of conversation, everyone’s eyes darting around the hallways to try and find him. 

“You know,” Sarah nudged her, “The boy you’ve spent most of your life in a one-sided rivalry with?” 

“One-sided? It’s a mutual hatred,” Y/N argued.

Sarah gave her a look before continuing, “I texted Mitch twenty minutes ago but he hasn’t replied. I know I’ve met Harry before but this is the first time I’ll be meeting him as Mitch’s girlfriend and I don’t want it to change anything.”

Y/N’s eyes softened, “Sarah, just because he’s the winner of a grand slam doesn’t make his opinion of you any more important. Whether Harry likes you or not, everyone knows you and Mitch are perfect for each other.”

Y/N remembered the first time her friend had told her she was seeing Mitch. He had taken her out to dinner a few times and Sarah had come back to their shared dorm swooning and unable to stop herself from rambling the rest of the night about how romantic and funny he was. 

Y/N had never experienced anything like that in her life, too busy focusing on tennis and academia to find herself in relationships, but she was happy her best friend was happy and that was all that mattered to her. 

“I know but he’s important to Mitch. They’ve been best friends since infants and… that’s not all I’m worried about,” Sarah looked at Y/N pointedly. 

“What?” 

“Now that Mitch and I are together, that means we’ll be spending more time around each other which also means…” Sarah didn’t have to finish her sentence for Y/N to understand what she was trying to get at. 

“Oh n-no! No way! Sarah, are you being serious right now?” Y/N whined, “You want me to get along with Harry just because you’re dating his best friend?”

“You don’t have to but it would be nice if you did,” Her voice trailed off at the end, her eyes looking at her pleadingly, “I’m not asking you to be best friends, I’m just asking you not to chew his head off when we’re all in the same room together.”

Y/N wanted to argue and tell her she wouldn’t be able to chew his head off anyway because she needed him to coach her for the scholarship but an arm slid around Sarah’s waist and interrupted their conversation. 

Sarah grinned, turning to look up at her boyfriend who was now standing beside her, “Hey babe,” Mitch smiled.

“You’re here,” Sarah craned her neck to kiss his lips, “I texted you forever ago and you never replied.

Mitch scoffed, “It was twenty minutes ago and I didn’t have time to check my phone, too busy dragging this one through the front gates.”

Out of the corner of Y/N's eye, another figure appeared. She didn’t have to look to see who it was, the sudden surge of annoyance within her already gave them away. Her head tilted to the left to look up and see Harry. 

He was wearing his school uniform, the same way he always did before he left for Australia. His shirt was untucked, and the top button was undone revealing a gold chain and a white vest underneath, his grey trousers were ironed with not a crinkle in sight and his navy blazer hung casually behind him, hooked by his middle finger.

Y/N’s eyes shifted behind him to find people whispering to each other and groups of girls giggling as they walked past. It was nothing new to see girls getting riled up over him but it had become more intensified now that he had gone abroad and made a name for himself. Despite his injury preventing him from playing, Y/N was certain that even if Harry had lost every game and embarrassed himself on live television, people would still adore him.

“Hey Harry,” Sarah offered a kind smile.

“Hi Sarah, nice to see you again. Glad to know Mitch was in good hands whilst I was away,” Harry clapped his friend on the shoulder before turning to Y/N.

“Only the very best,” Mitch pulled Sarah into his side before motioning to Y/N, “You remember Sarah’s best friend Y/N right?”

“Hmmm, aren’t you the one who lost the Junior tennis competition to me a few years ago?” Harry smirked.

Y/N's jaw clenched, but she managed to force a smile. "I could be, but aren’t you the one who they recorded rolling around on the floor like a big baby at the French Open last year?" Her retort was sharp, aimed directly at Harry.

Harry's eyes narrowed in response, a flicker of annoyance crossing his features. Y/N felt a sense of satisfaction at having gotten such a reaction from him. "Welcome back to Crestwood," she added, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

Mitch and Sarah exchanged weary glances, sensing the tension between Y/N and Harry.

"Quite a welcome. I’ve already been asked to coach someone and I’ve only been back a week," Harry remarked, his gaze still fixed on Y/N, who met his stare with a glare of her own.

"You have?" Mitch frowned, his confusion evident.

"Who?" Sarah asked, equally perplexed.

Harry's eyes remained locked on Y/N, giving them their answer. "You asked him to coach you?" Sarah questioned her confusion mirroring Mitch's.

Y/N shifted uncomfortably under their scrutiny, "Yeah, I did," she admitted reluctantly, her gaze flickering briefly to Harry before returning to Mitch and Sarah.

"Why would you ask him to coach you?" Sarah asked, her brow furrowing in confusion, “You argue all the time,” 

Y/N hesitated, “I need to win the scholarship to the tennis academy in London and Harry’s the only person here who knows how to play the game.” 

“Glad to know I was the pick of the bunch,” Harry’s voice dripped with sarcasm. 

“I thought you were applying to go to UCL?” Sarah frowned. 

“I was but you know how much the game means to me and my parents refuse to believe it’s more than just a hobby. This is the only chance I’ll get to prove them wrong and the only option to get me out of studying medicine.” Y/N explained. 

Sarah’s eyes softened, she too was no stranger to how strict Y/N’s parents could be. “Which is why she needs me,” Y/N felt the weight of his arm rest across her shoulders, “Right, love?” 

Y/N spun around to face Harry, eyes sharp, “Don’t call me that,” She hissed, seeing the satisfied grin on his face. 

He shrugged, “But I always call you that,” 

Ever since they were teenagers, when the rivalry first began, Harry had opted to calling Y/N ‘love’ knowing how much it riled her up. To some, it was a term of endearment but in the world of tennis the word ‘love’ meant one thing. 

‘Nil, ‘Zero’, ‘Loser’. 

Y/N hated the way he spoke it too - accentuating each letter of the word to drag it out for as long as he could just to annoy her further. 

She stepped forward, “Call me that one more time,” She threatened.

“Or what?” He tilted his head to the side. 

“Guys seriously, break it up,” Sarah intervened, “Aren’t you supposed to be getting along if you’re going to be spending more time together.”

Y/N hated the thought of it but knew she was right. If she wanted Harry to coach her, she couldn’t go around screwing things up by arguing with him. If he was going to coach her at the sport, she’d have to coach herself in controlling her attitude around him. 

“C’mon Sarah, let’s go to class,” Y/N hooked arms with her best friend, wanting to get as far away from him as possible. 

“Oh okay, bye Mitch.” Sarah kissed her boyfriend before she was dragged down the hallway in a hurry.

Harry watched as Y/N practically sprinted down the hallway with Sarah in tow. He felt the need to call out of her for one last dig just so she would turn around and he’d see her face before she rounded the corner, “See you on the courts, love.” He called down to her. 

As he had hoped, Y/N’s head whipped around to glare at him along with her middle finger, “Asshole!” She called back.

Harry chuckled to himself, “That face,” he murmured. 

Mitch placed a hand on Harry’s shoulder, “You’ve got it in for yourself with that one, lad.” Mitch said.

“Tell me about it,” Harry replied, his eyes still on the place he’d last seen Y/N. 

Maybe returning to Crestwood wouldn’t be so bad after all. 

. . . 

With Harry back, Y/N had suspected the day would be a drag with everyone constantly bringing him up in every conversation, but the first half of the day had gone well. Y/N was easily used to her classes by now and was still top of the class in all of them. 

During lunch period, Y/N always sat with Sarah in the library where they’d catch up on what they missed out on each other’s lives or study during exam season. It was nice to have some reprieve during the school hours and whenever she was with Sarah, Y/N could talk for hours and hours.

Now that Sarah was dating Mitch, Y/N and Sarah would spend their lunch with his friends in the lunch hall. Y/N didn’t mind it so much having grown used to being around Mitch’s friends despite their loud and boisterous personalities. 

However, today she was dreading the fact that now her lunchtimes would also include being around the person she wanted to spend as little amount of time with as possible. 

“Can’t we just eat in the library today? Please?” Y/N pulled on the sleeve of her best friend's blazer as she begged her to turn back in the direction of the library. She could already picture Harry’s annoying smirk the closer they got to the entrance of the lunch hall.

“Y/N you’re being dramatic. It’s just an hour, I’m sure you can survive being around him that long.” Sarah continued to tug her down the hallway.

“Sarah I already have to spend enough time as it is,” Now that she asked him to be her coach. The more the day went by the more she was starting to regret her decision. 

Sarah spun on her heel, “Think of this as practice then,” Her eyes looked past Y/N’s shoulder, “Look, there they are,” She moved past her and beelined towards their table where Y/N saw Mitch, Jake and Adam already sitting along with that head of brunette curls that Y/N just wanted to tear out every time she saw him. 

Sighing, she followed Sarah and approached the table responding to everyone’s friendly greetings until she got to Harry, “You’re in my seat,” She spoke after realising all the seats were taken. 

Harry didn’t bother to look around, that stupid grin plastered to his face when he looked up at her, “Am I?” 

Y/N gritted her teeth, “Yes,”

“Hmm,” He swivelled around to look at the back of the chair, “I don’t see your name anywhere.”

A wave of chuckles rippled around the table but Y/N had yet to find the amusement in it. “She does always sit there, H.” Mitch chuckles, “Just grab another chair from a different table.”

Harry leant back against the seat and crossed one leg over his thigh, “But I quite like this seat.” 

“I’m not moving until you get out of my seat,” Y/N crossed her arms, refusing to give in to him. 

“Well you’re going to be stood up for a long time and y’ need those legs for later,” Harry smirked, “Or you could just sit here,” He unfolded his legs and motioned towards his lap, “Still your seat.” 

Y/N’s jaw clenched but before she could respond, Adam chuckled and stood up, “Here,” He picked another chair up from an empty table and set it down next to him, “Y’ can sit here Y/N.” 

She was tempted to refuse and continue to nag Harry for the rest of lunch but decided against it, not wanting to waste her energy on him. Her eyes softened at Adam’s kindness, “Thanks, Adam.” She sat beside him. 

Harry’s smirk seemed to falter when Y/N sat down, watching as Adam looked at Y/N even as she turned to face the others. 

“Is that Molly Brown looking at y’ again Harry?” Jake, who Y/N considered the loudest one of Mitch’s friends, leant over the table to speak lowly to Harry even though it was impossible for him to ever be so quiet. 

Harry forced himself to look away from Adam before he burnt holes into him. “She’s been after him since fifth year,” Mitch chuckled. 

“Y’ think you’ll let her have it this year, H?” Jake takes a spoonful of his lunch and swallows it down. 

“Have what?” Sarah frowned, confused.

“Nothing you need to know about, babe,” Mitch replies, opening her waterbottle for her after she silently handed it to him. 

“I’ve never been interested in Molly,” Harry quickly replies but his ears prick when he hears Y/N laughing quietly with Adam. 

“Mind if I take my chances then?” Jake asks, “I’ve always wanted to date a cheerleader,” 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Harry shakes him off, “What about you Adam?” He gets the attention from both Y/N and Adam as they look up, “Don’t you have a thing for Molly?”

Adam furrows his brows, “Molly Brown? Maybe in like third year,” He chuckles, “I’m not interested in anyone at the moment.”

Harry wants to laugh in his face, “Y’ sure about that?”

Adam frowns but Y/N quickly interrupts them, “People are allowed to have other interests you know.”

Harry feels that rush of excitement when she speaks run through his body, “Is this a touchy subject for you?”

Y/N scowls, “No, I’m just saying Adam doesn’t need to be interested in girl’s all the time.”

“Well maybe Adam can speak for himself,” Harry quips.

“Lord save me,” Jake mumbles and Sarah laughs.

“Well what about you? Have you managed to sink your fangs into anyone?” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Y/N gapes, “I’ve dated plenty of people,”

The image unsettles Harry but he takes the opportunity to tease Y/N further. "Plenty of people, huh?" he echoes.

Y/N's cheeks flush slightly,  "I mean... well, not plenty, but a few," she stammers.

But Harry doesn't let up, "Oh, really?" he presses, "Care to share? I'm sure we'd all love to hear about the few men who you’ve tempted."

Y/N shoots him a glare, knowing full well that Harry was onto her. "I... uh, well," she stumbles over her words, searching for a way to change the subject.

But before she can respond, Adam jumps in. "Come on, Harry, give her a break," he glowers. 

“Yeah, Y/N’s just waiting for the right guy and there’s nothing wrong with that,” Sarah pipes in, always one to have her best friend’s back.

Harry raises an eyebrow, his gaze flickering between Y/N and Adam before settling on Y/N, who shifts uncomfortably. Sensing the tension, Mitch swiftly changes the subject to something else.

. . . 

After lunch, Y/N made her way to her next class with Adam walking alongside her. Out of all of Mitch’s friends, she got on the most with Adam to the point where Sarah was constantly pestering her over considering a date with him but Y/N didn’t see him as any more than a good friend.  He was quiet and kept to himself for the most part, excelling in the arts and playing bass guitar in a band on weekends. Y/N enjoyed the calmness he brought to the group especially with the others being so loud all the time. 

“What do you think?” Adam asked, holding the strap of his backpack in one hand as it hung over his right shoulder. 

“What do I think about what?” Y/N frowned. 

“You know, Harry being back. I know you two didn’t always get along,” He explained.

Y/N scoffed, “If it weren’t for the fact he’s coaching me for the Academy Slam, I would be praying to whatever God that’d listen to send him back to Australia,” Which was also the furthest possible country he could be away from her. 

Adam chuckled, “He told us earlier he’d be coaching you,” 

Y/N scowled, “I bet he couldn’t get enough of it,” 

“Actually he seemed pretty happy about it. We haven’t seen him that happy since he got back from Australia.”

“Really? Maybe that injury did something to his head,” 

“What makes you hate him so much anyway?” Adam asked. 

Y/N sighed. It was a question she heard often but never had a solid answer for. She couldn't quite explain why she disliked Harry so much. Maybe it was because he had things she wanted, and jealousy often turned into hatred. But there was something more, something she couldn't quite pin down.

Despite her dislike, Y/N went to all of Harry's matches, and she watched them on TV too. Even when she tried to stay in her room, her legs seemed to move on their own, taking her to the courts to watch him play. She hated that part of her rooted for him, and she couldn't figure out why. Maybe it was because Harry had been the first person to teach her how to play and she felt some sense of loyalty to that but she had no perfect answer even though she wished for one. 

“His face annoys me,” Y/N says.

“That’s it?” Adam snickers. 

“I don’t know,” Y/N shrugs, “We’ve always had this rivalry that stemmed out of nowhere but I can’t even remember how it started.”

“You don’t have feelings for him do you?” The question came out of nowhere and took Y/N completely off-guard. 

"What? No!" Y/N's response came out a little too quickly, and she hoped her cheeks hadn't betrayed her by turning red.

Adam shrugged. "Just making sure," he said casually. "You know, some people get them mixed up—love and hate."

Y/N furrowed her brow, genuinely puzzled. "How is that even possible?"

"Well, they're both intense emotions, aren't they?" He mused. "And sometimes, when you feel strongly about someone, whether it's love or hate, it can blur the lines between the two."

Y/N pondered his words, a sense of unease settling in her stomach, "No way," she replied firmly, shaking her head. "I may not like him, but there's definitely no love there."

Adam chuckled, sensing her defensiveness. "Alright, that’s good," he said with a grin.

Y/N felt a hint of a smile on her lips, “What does that mean? That’s good?”

Adam shrugged, still smiling, “Jus’ saying,” He spoke and Y/N laughed. 

Her gaze flicked from Adam's to Harry, who stood in the hallway with Molly Brown, her brunette waves tied up in the perfect, slicked back ponytail. Hoping to slip by unnoticed, she quickened her pace, but it was too late. Harry's eyes locked onto hers, then shifted to Adam. She caught the subtle twitch of his jaw before he pushed off the wall, ignoring Molly, and strode toward them.

Adam must not have noticed Harry coming towards them because he quickly bid goodbye so he could rush to his literature class. Y/N picked up her pace but Harry was already by her side, “Do you like him?” Harry asked.

“Who Adam? Well let’s see, he’s nice and smart and doesn’t feel the need to open his mouth every five seconds unlike some people I know, so yeah I do like him.” 

Harry scoffed, “He’s a little boring don’t you think?” 

Y/N rolled her eyes at Harry's comment, a retort already forming on her lips. "Nice of you to say that about your own best friend," she quipped. "Makes me wonder what you say about me."

Before she could say anything more, she gasped in surprise as Harry tugged on her hand and swiftly spun her around until her back was against the row of lockers. Her heart raced as he stepped forward, blocking her in, and dipped his head closer to hers.

"I think we need some ground rules for this whole coaching thing," Harry murmured, his voice low. "If you're planning on winning, I recommend using your time more wisely instead of wasting it on nice boys."

Y/N's breath caught in her throat as she processed his words. "Is that a rule or are you asking me not to date anyone?" she managed to ask, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Both," Harry replied, his tone unwavering.

Her mind raced, unsure how to respond, "What about you then?" she countered.

"Is that a personal request?" Harry's smirk widened, his gaze locking onto hers. "Because I'm the coach, and I set the ground rules so anything you ask me to do is because you want me to do it."

Y/N's heart pounded louder in her ears as Harry's proximity sent heat coursing through her, "It's only fair," she replied, her voice barely audible.

Harry chuckled softly. "Fine, if it makes you happy. But I’m not interested in dating nice girls or boys anyway," he remarked with a smirk.

Y/N swallowed, her curiosity piqued. "What are you interested in?" 

He smirked, "The game," he replied cryptically.

With that, he moved away from her, his eyes lingering on her lips for a moment before he turned and walked down the hallway, “See you tonight, love.” He called back. 

As the sound of his footsteps faded, Y/N stood there, stunned and unable to move. She was grateful that no one had witnessed the exchange as she pulled out her compact, trying to compose herself and hide the flush of embarrassment that coloured her cheeks.

As she hurried to class, already five minutes late, Y/N couldn't shake the intensity of her encounter with Harry. Sitting by the window, her mind wandered as the teacher lectured the class, her gaze drifting to the courts outside where she'd soon be training with him this evening.

This coach-student dynamic had unlocked a new territory between them, something unpredictable that Y/N had no choice but to delve into for the months ahead. 

Yet, it was her only choice. Harry was the only way she could win and she’d push through whatever feelings she had to get what she wanted. 

She’d play the game, just as he wanted her to. 

[vioartemis]

Mrs Ortega

(Jenna Ortega x fem! reader)

Summary: Wednesday made Jenna famous, and put in danger your relationship Warnings: angst :)) (English isn't my first language, I'm sorry if there are mistakes or if something doesn't make sense TvT)

You had known Jenna since forever, as you were neighbors back in the days. Naturally you became friends, and eventually started dating in 2020. You spent most of the pandemic together, as no one could really work at the time, and after that you tried to accompany her as much as possible on her shootings.

She had tried to convince you not to, aware that it was a huge sacrifice you were making for her, but you didn’t listen. You took online classes while she was working, and when she came back, you would spend the night together.

Your girlfriend had been busy with the shooting of Wednesday for the past few months. You had traveled to Romania with her and befriended her castmates.

The series was about to have its premiere, and Jenna wanted you to accompany her to the event. And of course you said yes, because how could you deny her?

“How do I look?” she asked, stepping out of the bathroom

“Stunning, as always” you replied with a bright smile, looking her up and down

You took her hands in yours, pulling her a bit closer, and pressing your lips on hers in a tender kiss.

“You rock that look Jen, seriously” you smiled “The black dress and veil… everything is perfect”

“Yeah? Well I hope one day I will wear it in white with you waiting for me down the aisle” she said with a little smirk

You felt your cheeks burn at the thought.

“A-are you talking about… getting married?”

She nodded with a smile.

“I know you’re the one, Y/n. You’re my soulmate, I’m sure of that. Don’t you want to become Mrs Ortega?”

“Y-yeah I-I mean- of course! I’d love to marry you” you kissed her softly “I just wasn’t expecting you to talk about that right now”

“So it’s a yes?”

“Of course it is”

The series had been released a month ago, and it was a success. Wednesday’s popularity was worldwide, and so was Jenna’s. She wasn’t unknown before that, but now she really was famous.

You were happy for her, seeing her career take a new turn like that, but you had to admit she was acting weird lately. You tried to talk about it, but every time she assured you she was fine. You ended up thinking she was just getting used to be super popular.

Jenna had finished her day and you were waiting for her, swimming in the hotel’s pool. She texted you a few minutes ago, telling you she would be here soon but that her agent wanted to talk to her first.

You wondered what her agent could be telling her, imagining different scenarios, before your attention was caught by footsteps coming towards you.

You swam in her direction, a big smile on your face, as she sat on the edge of the pool, legs in the water. You put your hands on the ground, ‘trapping’ her between your arms, and lifted yourself up to kiss her lips.

She kissed back, but you could feel something was off.

“What’s wrong?” you asked softly, back in the water

Jenna wasn’t looking at you, but you could see on her face that she was not okay.

“Jen, you can talk to me… I’m here, I’ll always-”

“Y/n.” she cut you off “I- I’m sorry I… We can’t continue…”

“What…?” you frowned, completely lost

She took a deep breath.

“My agent… He told me that being with a… a ‘nobody’ wasn’t good for my career, now that I start to be more famous…”

You couldn’t believe your ears. The words were stuck in your throat; it took you a minute to be able to say something.

“Are you serious…? Y-you’re ready to throw everything away because your agent told you it wasn’t good for you career?”

“Y/n-”

“But nobody cares who you’re in a relationship with…!” your voice broke as you tried to hold back a cry “Jenna please… Y-you can’t do that… I- you’re everything to me, I can’t lose you… I-if it’s really a problem w-we can see each other in secret or… or…”

Your eyes were filled with tears, and it was taking you all your strength not to break down in front of her.

“W-we can’t, the paparazzi would find out eventually… I’m sorry, I didn’t think it would end this way… I- I love you so much… But I have to…”

You could hear that she didn’t want to do it either.

“Jen please… There has to be another way… I… We were talking about getting married and… and now we would just stop like that…? No, please… I-I’ll do anything…”

She finally looked at you. You saw the tears in her eyes, the look on her face, the way her bottom lip shivered. You knew nothing you would say would change anything.

“I’m sorry…” she whispered

The ache in your throat only grew stronger, preventing you from speaking.

Jenna stood up, and gave you one last look before walking away, leaving you alone in the pool with your broken heart, tears flooding down your cheeks.

<><><><> ♡ <><><><>

A few months had passed since the forced breakup, and you were still not doing okay. You felt empty, as if a part of you left with her that day.

And the pain… The pain never left. Sometimes it was so high you felt like you would throw up on the spot. Seeing her happy during interviews or events, or even on TikTok or Pinterest felt like a stab to the heart.

You honestly didn’t know how you were going to live without her. She was the love of your life, your soulmate…

Sometimes you wished she never became famous. Then you felt guilty for thinking about that. But again, if she never became famous you would still be together. Happy.

Your phone rang. It was your best friend, worried, as always since it happened. You picked up with no energy.

“Hey… how are you feeling?”

“… I don’t wanna talk right now…”

“Okay um… Do you want me to come over? We can play some games or-”

“I just wanna watch TV…”

You could ear her sigh on the phone.

“I understand what you’re feeling but… staying alone isn’t going to help you… I’m always here if you need me, call me when you feel like talking”

With that, she hung up.

You put your phone down, turning your attention back on the TV. You were changing the channels, trying to find something you actually wanted to see, when you saw her.

A part of you wanted to change the channel. The other told you to stay. To stay, and try to see if she showed any sign of missing you. Of being sad. Of anything that could prove she cared about you and regretted breaking up.

She was beautiful, as always. She was being interviewed by a random journalist, a smile on her face. The same smile that sent butterflies in your stomach every time you saw it. The same smile that made you fall in love with her all over again. The same smile that was hurting you so badly at the moment.

You couldn’t help but have flashbacks of the moments you spent together; your first dates, first kiss, nights cuddling comfortably, laughs at the stupidest things possible, playful fights while playing video games, discussions about eventually getting married… and when she told you it had to end.

You didn’t realize you were crying until your eyes started to hurt. You didn’t even bother whipping your tears away.

“… I should’ve stayed in the pool and drowned so I didn’t have to watch you leave…”

You thought you would never be happy again. It just hurt too much.

If she looked happy on screen, as soon as she was alone and away from the cameras, Jenna let her mask fall. She was as devastated as you if not more, knowing that she was the one to hurt you.

She never wanted that. All she wanted was to be with you.

She really meant it when she said she wanted to marry you. But her agent and her family put so much pressure on her, to do anything for her career, that she had to leave the most important person in her life.

She thought about you all the time. She even tried to message you multiple times. But she never seemed to find the right way to do so.

“I don’t know where you are right now…”

That sounded weird.

“Did you see me on TV?”

That sounded pretentious, and made it look like she didn’t care about what happened.

“I try not to hate myself just because you’re mad at me…”

That sounded like she was trying to make herself the only victim in the situation.

But she did hate herself. She fucked everything up.

It was destroying her from the inside, taking all her energy. She just wanted to sleep with you in her arms, like you used to.

She wanted everything back. Your laugh, your smile, your voice, your shitty jokes, your kisses, your hugs… You.

She wasn’t happy without you.

She found no pleasure in anything, no joy in things that used to make her happy. Her favorite food didn’t taste good anymore, her favorite song didn’t sound good anymore…

Sometimes she wondered what would have happened if she hadn’t broken up with you. Maybe you would be married by now. She could call you her wife. You would be happy together.

These thoughts only hurt her more and made her feel like more of an asshole than she already felt.

She just wished she could go back in time and tell you that even if everyone was telling her to leave you and think of her career, she was choosing you. Tell you how much you meant to her. How you made her life better. How she couldn’t be happy without you.

But she couldn’t. And she would forever regret what she did that day.

a/n: this was highly inspired by that TikTok :))

[art]

Creator Spotlight: @tinypaint

My name is Michelle Fus. I’m a Jewish, non-binary artist. I graduated from the School of Visual Arts for Computer Art and Animation in 2011. I’ve interned at Pixar and worked for a few years at Dreamworks Animation. Over the past ten years, I’ve self-published two books and have run three successful Kickstarters. I now work with Skybound (The Walking Dead, Invincible) in developing my webcomic, Ava’s Demon, as a physical book series for stores. I like hiking, cultivating plants, caring for my cats, and hanging out with my beautiful husband. You can read my webcomic at avasdemon.com.

Check out our interview with Michelle below!

How did you get your start in art, and more specifically, with Ava's Demon?

I’ve always been into art since I was very young. I started to gravitate towards it in first grade, where we were required to keep a daily journal. I found myself drawing in it more than actually keeping entries. From there, I got more and more interested in honing my skills as an artist. I started making my own comics for fun. I signed up for classes outside of school and put together a portfolio for the School of Visual Arts, where I majored in Computer Art and Animation. After getting my first job in the field, I realized that it wasn’t what I wanted to do with my life. After working my day job, I would come home and work towards building a career in comics for myself by creating and uploading my webcomic, Ava’s Demon.

What is one habit you find yourself doing a lot as an artist?

Looking things up to learn more before I make art or write. For instance, how many livable planets are in a Galaxy? What does a black hole actually look like, and can it give off light? How long would it actually take to travel through space if you had the fastest ship possible? I look up all of these things and then ignore most of them for the sake of writing a fun story and making fun art.

From idea to final piece, how long does it take for you to create something?

It depends on the feeling I want to convey. Sometimes I’ll work for a whole week on a drawing and then delete it because I just don’t feel good about it. Other times I’ll make something in a day that I absolutely love from beginning to end. Some drawings I never delete nor finish, and instead, the files just kind of sit in a folder. The time it takes varies a lot.

Over the years as an artist, what were your biggest inspirations behind your creativity?

I really love good stories. So movies and books with captivating stories usually motivate and inspire me; stories that stay with you permanently, with twists and turns that you can’t stop thinking about. I also love finding characters whose struggles I can deeply relate to. I try to hold onto those feelings and emulate them through my art.

What is the hardest part of your process?

Actually finishing a drawing. The anxiety of it piles on me sometimes. I’ll work for a while on a drawing and constantly ask myself, “Is this drawing really finished? What terrible things about it am I not seeing?”. My desire to avoid making something terrible can sometimes put me in a mental prison where I keep chipping away at a drawing until I no longer know what I am looking at.

What is one interaction you had from a fan of yours that has stuck with you over the years?

In general, I like letting young artists in middle school, and high school know that I wasn’t very good at art at their age (I really wasn’t, I didn’t have the same resources they have now, and I didn’t have any perspective on what it takes to have a career in art, it’s a different world). Kids have come to me at conventions with their work for critique and advice, and I have to tell them that they’re already miles ahead of what I could make at their age. I have to tell them that it’s okay if they can’t make what all the professionals make online, to know that they have SO much time ahead of them to work at what they love. If you love making art, do it often, study art throughout history, and over time you’ll be able to create everything your heart desires.

What is something other people find hard to draw that you find enjoyable?

I have no idea. Sometimes it feels like drawing anything is suffering, even if you like what you’re making.

Who on Tumblr inspires you and why?

@loish has been consistently inspiring me since my days in high school. Every new painting has so much grace and power and is so excellent to look at. Her skill in shape and form seems limitless, and I hope to someday achieve even a small fraction of her understanding of art. Seeing her new work on my timeline also makes my dopamine spike, so I’m always looking forward to updates from her.

Thank you so much for stopping by and sharing, Michelle! Be sure to check out their Tumblr blog over at @tinypaint and follow their webcomic, Ava’s Demon, over at avasdemon.com.

[bigbigtruck]

Hi EK!!

I was wondering if I could possibly get your advice on something. You absolutely don't have to answer this. It's A LOT.

So, I'm an undergrad senior who's about to graduate from university, and I want to make comics professionally. I'm really on the fence about getting an MFA in Sequential Art. Shit's EXPENSIVE, but I'm really looking for community and networking opportunities and I know cons exist, but im not sure I'll get the same kind of connections with other artists I would than if I went back to school.

Do you believe that it's possible to have a successful career in comics without getting a degree in comics?

Thanks for your time!

vvvrrrrmmmmmm [quickly taking to the air in a little Cessna with a banner that reads:]

Comics is a low-paying, physically punishing job with no security. PLEASE DON'T GO DEEP INTO DEBT TO LEARN COMICS.

Learning by diving in and doing it, getting your hands in the muck, with guidance from texts like Understanding Comics or a series of remote or online classes, is a way more affordable option.

The Cartoonists' Co-Op is working on gathering resources for comic artists, and is definitely worth looking into: http://cartoonist.coop

And... that's as far as I'm qualified to answer, I'm a little embarrassed to say.

So opening this up: I know some folks who follow me on here are genuinely successful and / or have done advanced education in comics. What are your experiences? If you're successful, how did you get where you are, and how did education figure into that?

[drunk-on-dk]

Track 1: Hotel | Choi Seungcheol (m)

Track 1 - Hotel // Montell Fish - playlist linked here

Pairing: Heir!Choi Seungcheol x fem!reader Genre: SMUT (minors DNI), angst? w/c: ~3.1k (some change, barely proofread tbh) Summary: Old Money/Heir!Seungcheol can't help but invite you to his hotel room no matter how dangerous you are for him and his reputation.

Explicit Content - Minors DNI, Listeners 18+, NSFW Warnings Below

content warning: unprotected sex (stay protected pls); oral (male receiving); no specific pronouns used, but reader has female anatomy & wears a dress; degrading name (brat); bratty reader; dom!cheol; big dick!cheol; rough?cheol (pussy slapping, choking, makes the reader crawl); a bit of commentary on shitty businesses for the sake of minimal plot; secret hooking up lmao

a/n: lol this is the beginning of my playlist series and I just got so excited I couldn't wait to post! I hope you all enjoy it! As always, all feedback is appreciated <3

“When I met you in that hotel room

I could tell that you were so bad news

But I keep messing with ya, messing with ya

And now you messing with me, messing with me”

Seungcheol knew you were bad news when he first met you in ECON 101 his first year of university. You had plucked his pen right out of his fingertips with a devilish smirk on your lips and continued to scribble your number down on his hand without a second thought after he had been assigned as your study partner for the semester.

Admittedly, you were very attractive to Seungcheol the moment he laid eyes on you in the lecture hall. However, he soon would find out you both lived very different lifestyles. Seungcheol was the son of a successful tech business tycoon; following in his father’s footsteps and only committing to majoring in business to please the demands of said father. You, on the other hand, were a stubborn, moral driven business major who scoffed upon finding out Seungcheol was next in line for a company that didn’t seem to care about their own employees. You sure gave Seungcheol an earful about his father’s company, in which Seungcheol was already aware of the scandals and fully agreed with all that you said, but he couldn’t admit that to anyone but himself.

Unfortunately for Seungcheol, you were painstakingly intelligent, and he swore he wouldn’t have made it through economics without your consistent help. Honestly, Seungcheol claimed he wouldn’t have made it to graduation without you being by his side for the next years to come.

Both of you resented each other in a way; Seungcheol wished to live a normal life and wished that he had half the wit you did, whilst you were envious Seungcheol blissfully lived his life with ease, not needing to lift a finger to get what he wanted. You turned a blind eye to it though, admitting that Seungcheol was smart and too kind in comparison to his hard exterior, and you believed he’d make a better CEO than his father one day. Maybe you could even keep his head on straight if you stayed by his side long enough.

Even though you were tons of help to Seungcheol in university, you had caused him plenty of problems outside of classes. You became an activist of sorts, using a platform that you had built online to speak out against companies that engaged in immoral acts. One of those companies being Seungcheol’s father’s company, quickly becoming a thorn in his father’s side upon your rapidly gaining popularity.

After university, Seungcheol found you at large business events, usually catching you conversing with important people in the industry, a pretty, stray hair framing your face as you’d scribble notes down in your journal. Later he’d spot you seated in the far corner of whatever gala it was you both were attending, a glass of champagne in hand as your sharp eyes observed the crowd, only softening when you’d spot Seungcheol.

Seungcheol’s father demanded he kept a low profile at these events, and you were a controversial figure. However, it was hard to stay away from you, even when he knew his father hated the impact your words had on his business and would curse him out for ever knowing you. Seungcheol somehow always found a way to chat with you, basking in your snarky comments and rants that you’d sneak in by the bar. You were such a pain in the ass for Seungcheol in many aspects, but he was inevitably drawn to you from the beginning.

Seungcheol knew he was screwed when he started routinely fucking you after these events, typically inviting you up to whatever expensive hotel he was staying in for the night. You’d chuckle condescendingly at the ridiculous penthouse, but Seungcheol knew you didn’t care all that much when your dress would suddenly pool around your feet, stripping for him after just a blink of his eye.

To Seungcheol’s dismay, the first time you two snuck away had been caught by the paparazzi, and it had ended up in a business journal, calling Seungcheol out for flirting practically with the enemy.

Not even the scolding Seungcheol received that day could keep him away from you though; he just had to be smarter from now on. He couldn’t deny you when only you knew exactly how to ease his tension after these events.

Maybe the forbidden aspect is what drew him to you as well, but Seungcheol knew damn well that he loved how much of a brat you were for him. He couldn’t lie that you turned him on every time you tore his father’s business apart, shivers running down his spine as you’d run your mouth to him all the way home, and smirking at the fact you’d even dare to say such a thing in a limo funded by his father’s business. How ironic.

You’d keep going back to him as well, knowing that your relationship with Seungcheol was not practical in the slightest, even if part of you fantasized about a life with him outside of all this business bullshit, but damn, did he give you good dick. It sure did a good job at lessening whatever stress you felt at the end of the night.

It became routine, Seungcheol would invite you to his hotel, you’d scoff at the ritzy interior, and he’d stare you down expectantly from the opposite side of the ridiculously big room.

“Are you going to be a fucking brat tonight, Y/N?” Seungcheol asks, his husky voice sending chills down your spine as you try to keep your cool. “Or will you strip and crawl to me like how I asked?”

“Bite me, Seungcheol,” you spit out, but you can’t stop your fingers from playing with the straps and zipper of your dress.

“You better watch what you ask for.” God, you love the way his voice deepened in tone, coercing you to follow his orders as he watches you with a bushy eyebrow raised expectantly, and throwing his suit jacket on the floor like it was trash.

You refuse to break eye contact with him as you strip down, loving the way his gaze would falter when your dress finally drops to the ground and soaking in the groan that escapes his lips once he notices you have no undergarments on.

Dropping teasingly to the ground, you fall to your hands and knees, continuing to keep your eyes locked on his as you slowly crawl across the room to him. Seungcheol begins to strip himself, pulling his belt off once you’ve made it halfway to him, and finally unbuttoning his pristine white shirt, revealing the fiery skin you’ve touched so many times underneath it.

Ultimately making it to Seungcheol’s feet, his thumb grabs your chin, forcing your gaze back up to his after making eye contact with the obvious bulge in his trousers. Sitting on your knees, you pull his thumb into your mouth, running your tongue around the digit and gliding your hands up his solid thighs.

“Oh,” you coo condescendingly, “did your in-staff pleat these pants for you? I’d hate to ruin the perfect ironing job, Cheol.”

This is what Seungcheol adored about you; loved that you found a way to dig into his lifestyle and had enough courage to call out how he was fed with a silver spoon every day. It’s also what enraged him, unbelieving that you still thought so lowly of him after all these years.

“God,” Seungcheol ran his free hand through his hair, flustered by your boldness and the way you continued to suck at his thumb between your words. “I think this brat needs their mouth stuffed.”

“I didn’t crawl all the way here for nothing,” you pout, pulling away from Seungcheol with a ‘pop,’ and starting to work at his pants button. Finally pulling down both his trousers and underwear, you couldn’t hold back your chuckle after coming face to face with his brooding, leaky tip. “Looks like you need help, Cheol.”

The groan that bubbled from his chest was feral as he grabs at your hair, a large hand pulling it into his grip before he lines his length up to your mouth. “Open.”

You didn’t mess with Seungcheol when he got this demanding, your lack of words being enough to egg him on as your jaw drops slack for him, wet tongue falling out eagerly as you wait for him to stuff your mouth full.

“Don’t tease me, Y/N,” he pouts, cherry-red lips matching your puffy ones while awaiting your final consent before inserting the tip of his head into your expecting mouth.

“Fill me, Cheol, ‘m hungry for your cock,” you mewl, giving him your best puppy-dog eyes as you grant him your final blessing. As much as Seungcheol was a little shit, he sure was respectful as hell, and you couldn’t deny the flutter in your heart every time.

Finally giving in upon your permission, Seungcheol shoves his length past your lips, groaning out in pleasure when his head hits the back of your throat, only gagging around him as it still took you some time to get used to his size and how rough he likes to be.

“Such a fucking pro, Y/N, such a good little brat for me.” It becomes messy so fast, immediately acclimating to Seungcheol as he uses your mouth for his own pleasure. Seungcheol becomes entranced with the way drool pools outside of your lips, his pleasure intensifying as you moan around him, tongue working at the underside of his head.

The grip he has on you drives you wild, the heat at your core becoming more prominent as he bucks into your mouth and guides your head as you thoroughly suck him off. When he pulls you off, the only thing that connects you to him was the string of saliva hanging from your swollen lips and his hardened cock.

“Going to finish so soon, Cheol? Did it feel that good?” You pout up at him, a patronizing tone enraging him as he pulls you up to eye level, a strong hand wrapped around your throat before he pulls you into a bruising kiss.

“You need to learn when to shut up, Y/N,” he moans into the kiss, feeling even dizzier when you roll your body against his, the warmth of your skin on his reminding him of how real you are.

“Never,” you refute, smiling against his lips before he begins to nibble down the side of your neck. “But you already knew that, didn’t you?”

“I know it all too well,” he chuckles into your neck, sucking tenderly and pulling the delicate skin between his teeth, being sure to leave a mark on you. “Seems like you still need to learn a thing or two.”

You don’t even have a chance to mutter another word before Seungcheol is diving down to your chest, drawing a gasp from you when he pulls your nipple between his teeth, sucking and nibbling harshly at the peak. You almost collapse, but his hold on you is strong enough to keep you flush against his body, a reminder of the hard erection pressed against your lower abdomen.

Finally gaining enough sense to play into Seungcheol’s game, you egg him on even more, “how will you ever teach me anything?”

This is enough to rile Seungcheol up, turning you around and bending you over the armrest of the couch next to you. Falling face first into the plush cushions, you barely have time to process the harsh slap against your pussy, legs nearly giving out as the cool air and remnants of string burn at your core.

“Will this bratty pussy take me well?” It’s Seungcheol’s turn to be arrogant, knowing he has the upper hand as he runs his pointer and middle fingers between your folds, gathering up your slick on his fingers. You know he gets a taste of you, hearing his lips smacking as he hums in approval. “As much as I’d love to get another taste, I think you need to be stuffed full elsewhere to learn a lesson. You don’t deserve my tongue tonight, Y/N.”

“Please,” you’re giving in and begging for him at this point. “Please teach me a lesson, Cheol. I’ve been a bad all night.”

“My brat,” he’s teasing from behind you, your body and inner walls instantly reacting as you feel his tip prod at your core, collecting enough of your wetness before pushing between your folds. The guttural groan he lets out has you pushing back, allowing for him to fill you until his hips encounter your ass and you’re both crooning in satisfaction, “Always know how to take me so well, like the good little thing you are. Not sure there is much of a lesson other than shutting that mouth of yours, which I can do by filling you to the brim.”

Unfortunately, he is absolutely correct, the only words escaping you are incoherent pleas as he begins to drag his cock out of you before shallowly thrusting inside of you again.

Seungcheol’s nails are digging into your hips as he slowly tries to regain his senses, the feeling of your pussy pulsing around his cock is already making him feel delirious. The only vice you have is the velvety fabric of the couch, your nails leaving trail lines in the luxurious fabric as you try to come to and adjust around him.

The pace he sets is immediately brutal, his hips crashing against yours as he begins to thrust in and out of you. The sound of your skin slapping against his is lewd, and a honeyed gasp is pulled from you with each snap of his hips.

You’re clenching so tightly around him he swears he could lose himself in you, a hand slapping against once your ass cheeks in frustration as your walls continue to suck him in so perfectly.

“Feel s’good, Y/N. This bratty pussy always proves to take me so well, how are you so damn tight all the time?”

You’re so breathless with your response that he barely even hears you, but he can’t hide the smirk that graces his features when you admit exactly what he wants to hear, “no one fucks me like you do, Cheol. Only you fill me so well, s’big and s’good.”  

“You always know exactly what to say, huh?” He’s pulling you back up by the neck now, fingers wrapping around you like a necklace as he props one of your legs up on the armrest, allowing for better leverage to fuck up into you.

You’re moaning pathetically at this point as he bullies his cock up into you, the friction of his head dragging between your walls so delightful, just like he’s made for you, and his actions arousing you even more. Seungcheol’s lips are all over your skin, leaving trails of saliva down the back of your neck and shoulder, his hot lips sending blissful shivers through your body and coercing your head to fall back into him. His fingers run across your chest, rolling your nipples between the digits as he whispers dirty, sweet nothings into your ear.

Eventually, his fingers make their way down your torso, thick pads meeting your swollen clit and drawing an embarrassingly loud cry from you. Seungcheol continues to thrust up into you, his head contacting your cervix in the most pleasurable way and winding up the hot coil inside of you even more.

It’s devastating how familiar he is with your body at this point, knowing you’re way too fucked out to even refute any of his words, and recognizing the tell-tale sign that you’re close to finishing as your walls pulse uncontrollably around him, legs weakening but he holds your entire body weight up with ease.

“Does my brat deserve to finish?” It’s so annoying the way he bites at your ear when he edges you closer and closer to your release, thumb circling your clit in a tantalizing motion and intensifying the heat burning in your core.

“I don’t know,” you bite back a moan, sick of the games he’s playing at this point and rolling your hips back to meet each of his thrusts. Seungcheol can’t help but chuckle as you try your best to talk back, “you tell me, Cheol? Did I do well?”

“You did so well until now,” he lets out a breathy sigh, pulling his fingers away from your throbbing clit, but it becomes a strained groan as you clamp down even tighter around his length.

Pathetically, you fall back down onto the couch, your own hips chasing his motions, grinding back into him all before you’re just about slamming your ass against him with each buck of his hips.

“Fuck,” he’s moaning out, calloused hands palming your ass and meeting you with each thrust, watching where he connects with you as his cock disappears into your pussy with each desperate plunge back into you. “I take it back, you did so well. So, so, so well.”

With that final praise, you’re falling apart on his cock, walls clamping down on him like a vice and trembling and crying from beneath him, muscles shaking as you feel your arousal shatter within you. Seungcheol is following suit, unable to hold himself back when you feel this good around him, letting rope after rope of his cum fill you just how you like it.

Seungcheol falls against your body, pounding chest meeting your back while he shallowly thrusts his hips into yours, milking the rest of both your orgasms and memorizing the whimpers that come from you as you begin to feel overstimulated.

Seungcheol’s a gentleman of course, treating you to a nice, hot bath in the jacuzzi sized large enough to fit an entire group, and tucking you into the silk sheets of the pretentious hotel. Even after this luxury treatment, Seungcheol can’t avoid the snarky comments you mumble before you drift off to sleep, which is so damn endearing that he falls asleep with a smile on his face.

Admittedly, it’s always disappointing when he wakes up the next morning and you aren’t there, even if Seungcheol knows it’s for the best. The note you leave with a water bottle and medication for his hangover is always enough to keep him hooked, your pretty handwriting reminding him to leave a good tip for the staff, a kiss mark of your lipstick as a signature and reminder of you.

God, you were bad news for him, but he’ll keep you around as long as he can. Even if that means just inviting you up to these damn hotel rooms for now.

[soranihimawari]

Fates Aligned

Word Count: TBD

Pairing: Akaashi Keiji x YN!Reader

Rating: AKF (Akaashi Keiji Fluff)

Notes: Josei manga refers to manga which appeals to young adult women. :]

Thinking back on your high school days could pose a problem for you. You're attending your reunion and are amongst friends who are filling you in on their lives: who got married to who, who's adding to their family, and who's dating who. You realize as they talk you become more and more disassociated in the conversation. It's not like you had any juicy gossip to offer--you weren't dating anyone with the prospect of marriage on the way and you definitely weren't expecting an addition to your family except for maybe adopting another kitten to go along with the two year old cat you have waiting for you at home.

As the night progressed, you enjoy a few more drinks and light snacks at your end of the table. That is until you see him. Him, the young man from your past Japanese literature class with stunning gun-blue metal eyes, soft charcoal hair, and quiet nature. His best friend was the loud and often cheery captain of the volleyball team. You remember him as a gentle soul, after all he was much taller than you then. Nowadays, as you over hear of his publishing successes, you are shy to say to you have read many of his publishing house's manga. Your collection is massive, yet no one here would think you were an avid fan.

Until one member of your side of the table brings up a highly popular josei manga title. Your ears perk up as you enter the conversation saying you are an avid fan and reader of the title. A few things to note: the title was published online independently, second, when the copyright was up for renewal, a new publishing company bought it to have the author continue the story, third said author was attending is high school reunion in the pub where you seemed to be gushing over their work.

Whatever you said caused Akashi Keiji to confidently stride up to you and hang out at your end of the table.

"I take it you like that work," he says. "You're, yln yn,m right? Shared a desk with you in Japanese literature."

He seems amused. You seem a bit flustered as you swirl your empty water cup in your hands. You were trying to be a little less drunk before calling it a night.

"You remember me?" you say with a slight scoff. "It's usually hard for people outside of my friend circle here to recognize me. Nice to see you too Akaashi-kun."

He laughs as he clinks glasses with you. As the night progresses, you two become more and more acquainted past the "what happened after university" and the "where/what do you do now" questions.

You were pleased to know he landed a publishing job much like he was impressed your hobby of photography landed you a few lead exposes for National Geographic. Regardless of the years spent apart from that one classroom in Fukurodani, Akaashi lets you in on a little secret.

"You know," he begins. There is a small curl of his lips. "Sitting next to you inspired me to start drawing a little."

"Really? Now that you're a publisher, I didn't think you'd have to be the artist behind the manga," you reply.

"True, but my first manga heroine? She was inspired by you," he said this casually as he pulls out his phone to show you a very rough sketch of a short, limited series run of a manga you read online.

"N-no way," you gasp. You start to see little coincidences of you in the character when you re-read the first few pages and you glance back at Akaashi.

"I was too shy and reserved back then to ask, but," he starts when you hand him his phone back. "Would you like to go out with me sometime? I have a deadline to meet next Thursday, but Friday I am free."

And without missing a beat, you reply.

"Sure, I can be free next Friday. Anything for the author of 'fates aligned': a red string of fate short series," you smile brightly as he chuckles.

[morbidology]

Breck Bednar was a bright, intelligent, year ten pupil at St. Bedes in Redhill, Surrey. His father, Barry, was a successful City oil trader originally from Houston, Texas, who went on to manage a series of companies, including Rubicon Oil Brokers. Breck’s mother, Lorin LaFave, hailed from Michigan and had previously worked for clothing companies before she became governor and teaching assistant at St. John’s C of E Primary School.

Like many teenagers, Breck found solace and companionship on the internet, immersing himself in online gaming and making new friends. He joined an online community called TeamSpeak after being introduced to it at a church youth group. The platform was similar to Skype, allowing him to play games with his school friends and meet new ones, including two boys named Liam and Tom. Although they attended different schools, they would all chat on the server after classes.

Initially, Breck’s parents believed the online server was a positive thing for him as it fostered socializing and interaction with like-minded individuals. Breck excelled in sports, but it was computers that were his passion and future career. Even as a young boy, he had a deep interest in computers, teaching himself code and building his own gaming computer using components purchased online.

The server was owned and controlled by 18-year-old Lewis Daynes. Breck became close to Daynes and looked up to him. First of all, he was impressed by his extensive computer knowledge. As the relationship grew, Daynes told Breck that he worked as a computer engineer by day and had even worked for the US Defence Department as a hacker and promised Breck great wealth through a fictional software company. According to Lewis, he had ties to the FBI, ran multi-million-pound businesses and owned luxury homes in London and New York City.

In reality, Daynes was unemployed and lived in a flat in Grays, Essex. He had been abandoned by his parents and had spent his childhood and adolescence in and out of foster care. Online, he created this persona as a wealthy and successful entrepreneur and Breck was impressed. He believed that Daynes was living the kind of life that he had dreamed of for himself.

After grooming and manipulating Breck, Daynes did the unthinkable..

𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐞:

[yurimother]

Long-Running Yuri Series 'Adachi and Shimamura' To End with 12th Volume

Released in Japan on Friday, the 11th volume of Hitoma Iruma's long-running Yuri light novel series Adachi and Shimamura (Adachi and Shimamura) revealed that the series will conclude in the subsequent and forthcoming 12th volume. There is, at the time of writing, no official release date for the final volume, although, considering the series previous release schedule, readers can likely expect its release in late 2023.

Adachi and Shimamura is a slice of life romance series following high school students Sakura Adachi and Hougetsu Shimamura. After running into each other one day while cutting class, the two run into each other and form a friendship. However, over time, Adachi realizes that she has come to develop romantic feelings for Shimamura. Their relationship and eventual romance grow throughout the series as the girls gather the courage to open up to each.

Adachi and Shimamura is written by Hitoma Iruma and illustrated by Non. It began serialization in Dengeki Bunko Magazine in 2012 until the magazine ceased publication in 2020. ASCII Media Works publishes 11 volumes of the light novel in Japanese under its Dengeki Bunko imprint. Seven Seas Entertainment licenses the light novels for English publication and will release the 10th volume digitally on December 22 and in paperback on January 23.

Although the series' early volumes received mixed reviews from critics, with criticism aimed at its early story and side characters, Adachi and Shimamura is incredibly popular and one of the most successful Yuri series of all time. Later volumes generally received more positive reviews, with praise for the development of its title characters and their relationships.

Adachi and Shimamura spawned multiple adaptations, including a television anime adaptation in 2020 directed by Satoshi Kuwabara at Tezuka Productions. The anime is dubbed in English and available to stream internationally on Crunchyroll.

The light novels are adapted into two manga series, the first of which, illustrated by Mani, was serialized on Gangan Online from April 2016 to December 2017. The series ended with three collected volumes published by Square Enix. A second manga adaptation, illustrated by Moke Yuzuhara, began in Monthly Comic Dengeki Daioh in May 2019. Four volumes of this manga are published in Japanese by ASCII Media Works and in English by Yen Press.

You can check out Adachi and Shimamura today in English and get caught up before the release of the 12th and final volume: https://amzn.to/3FHSBR8

Reading official releases helps support creators and publishers. YuriMother makes a small affiliate commission from sales to help fund future coverage.

Source: Adachi and Shimamura Volume 11 (Japanese Release)

[klaineccfanficlibrary]

do you guys know of any fics where kurt or blaine likes being called pet names a lot? or when they begin to try them out and one admits they like it and want to continue using them?

I know that in most of her fics, @gleefulpoppet uses pet names. Here is one example, but check out the rest.

Pressed against the Glass by @gleefulpoppet

Is it possible that the most extraordinary love story ever told starts on a chilly October morning in New York with an impromptu twirl and an elbow to a stranger’s face? Kurt wouldn’t have thought so, but when it happens, his heart stops. It’s just one touch, but is that all it takes to believe? Should he take a chance and never look back? But what happens when the stranger runs away, even though he finally feels complete and brought to life? Is it just a dream—or will he let his walls come down? Will they live with regrets or find the love that will make them feel young forever?

AKA: The one about soulmates (by choice) and the italicized Oh.

~~~~~

In this one< Blaine calls him "babe" or "Baby" a lot, and at first Kurt isn't sure.

Go your own way by zavacado

Kurt Hummel just wants to get through his Junior Year at McKinley in one piece. But when the new guy from Dalton Academy Reform School for Boys takes an alarming interest in him, he's certain he's going to be in for a wild ride. Badboy!Blaine, Klaine, AU

~~~~~

From a previous ask - check out these:

The Symphony Verse by shandyall

Blaine has spent most of his life feeling like the only thing people notice about him is that he stutters. He’s working hard to overcome his (mostly self created) roadblocks when he meets Kurt in an online class the summer after his freshman year of college.

~~~~~

Glory Series by  Cleverboots (Amberlovesocean)

Kurt is assaulted after singing at a school dance and is left for dead, thrown aboard an empty train car at the railroad freight yard to hide the crime.

He wakes up to find he’s been tossed off the car somewhere in an Oregon logging camp, 2500 miles from home. A curly-haired kid named Blaine finds Kurt and protects him by hiding him in his cabin and teaching him how to survive.

~~~~~

When The Time Is Right by @fictionallylost

Kurt is 25, successful, handsome and sought after by all, but still looking for more, Bar Owner Blaine 10 years his senior is on the exact same journey of looking for love and life. A/U

~~~~~

Westerville Abbey Verse by @hkvoyage

Blaine is the second son of the earl of Westerville, and is considered the spare heir. After his 18th birthday, he attends the London Season to fulfill his duty of finding a wife. He soon realizes he is more attracted to the new footman. Kurt, who has just arrived at Westerville Abbey to work alongside his father, becomes equally as smitten with the earl’s youngest son. Will Blaine and Kurt be able to overcome their class differences in 1910s England? Will their forbidden love survive WW1? A Downton Abbey inspired historical Klaine AU.

~~~~~

Let us know anymore! ~Jen

[hoedamn-eron]

baby, please - part 1

You're successful, you're independent, and you pride yourself in both. But your friends think you could do with a man.

Warnings: Mentions of drinking wine. Reader is a bit of a workaholic. Like, one swear word. Proofread but probably a mistake or two in there somewhere. Word count: 2,031 F!Reader, no use of Y/N.

Welcome to the re-write! I wanted to write this last year, around the same time as my Doctor Steven Grant, PhD series, but it got put on hiatus due to some not nice real life stuff, but it's back! I hope you enjoy it!

These are your texts. These are Santi's texts.

Series Masterlist ● Part 2

You had the tendency to prove people wrong. Only when they had negative connotations of you, of course. You didn’t do it to be an obnoxious know-it-all.

For instance, you stuck it to your family when your parents scoffed at your idea of going into marketing instead of medical, like your sisters. You’d worked your ass off at college and graduated top of your class, those naysay comments from your parents in the front of your mind as you tossed your cap at your ceremony. Because of your hard work, you had moved to Florida for an amazing job opportunity. Granted, it wasn’t New York (which is the end goal for you jobwise), but you were the head of your very successful team, and it gave you the chance to separate yourself from your hometown (and therefore, your judgemental parents).

Let’s not forget the time you bought your apartment. Your friends had laughed at the size of it, claiming that you would want more space eventually, but it was yours, and you made it your own. Now your friends had decided your apartment was the best for your wine nights (which used to be bi-weekly, but plans changed when kids were coming into the picture), because it was the most quiet and you had the comfiest couch.

And lastly, you had proven than you didn’t need a man. Sure, it would be a nice perk to have, but you were happy being single. Whilst your friends were settling down and looking to move to nice neighbourhoods with good schools, you were dating around. Your love life was mostly filled with a few dates and one-night stands. You had dabbled in online dating every now and then, but that usually fizzled out after a few weeks. It didn’t bother you, you enjoyed meeting so many new people and having all these experiences to share.

Your dating life was a common topic of conversation between your peers. Your friends frequently teased you over it, wondering when you were going to ‘settle down’ yourself. You usually laughed it off. It never bothered you, why would it? You were a full-grown adult who could make decisions for herself, and it wasn’t any of their business at the end of the day. You’ve come to embrace being ‘that friend’ who was perpetually single.

It made sense that they would tease you about it, you were nearly thirty (not like there was a deadline or anything, you had plenty of time to ‘find’ someone). You weren’t even sure if you wanted kids, or to settle down. It may have worked out for others, who was to say it would work out just the same for you? You were perfectly happy focusing on yourself and your career.

Your day started out like any other. You woke up early, already sweating, huffing at the hot air of Florida. Your AC conked out last week, and you hadn’t found the time to get someone out to look at it. Your biggest client is launching their brand in a month’s time, so you and your team had been working aggressively hard to make sure you were meeting your deadlines and that your effort was up to par and more.

Which meant you’d been spending your weekday evenings mostly at the office than in your own apartment.

Answering a few morning emails and eating your breakfast before getting ready for work, you sent a quick text in your group chat to confirm that wine night was still good to go for later that night, since it was unusual to have your girl nights on a Monday (but it was the only time anyone had free, and it had been a long time since any of you were free at the same time). The evening was planned out perfectly, you’d even treated yourself and your friends to some decent wine, since this was the first wine night in months. You were truly happy for your friends, and you still saw each other every now and then, but God, there was nothing like your wine nights.

You weren’t expecting a text back from anyone until later in the day, so you continued with your morning. You made it into work with the usual traffic, a coffee in your hands from the local Starbucks. You sat at your desk and booted up your computer, checking your voicemails in the meantime.

“Good morning!”

You held back a grimace as you greet your desk mate.

Emily is nice enough, but overly chipper. She was blonde, bubbly, and always wore bright clothing. She was young, straight out of college and had joined the team a few months ago. She was still trying to find her feet in the company, and tried hard to make friends, something that she had frequently come to you about. Recently, she’d been hanging out with George and Juliet in accounts since they were of a similar age.

You suspected she had a thing for George.

“How was your weekend?” Emily asked, throwing her pink handbag to the floor and sitting in her chair.

“It was good. How was yours?” you ask.

“It was fine, thanks. Our new roommate moved in.”

Emily had been living with her sister and her sister’s boyfriend. Turned out the boyfriend had been sleeping around with some of the girls and guys from his gym and Emily and her sister had kicked him out. Last you heard he’d moved back in with his parents out of town.

“How’s that going?”

“Good, so far! Think Becca is just glad to have all his stuff gone and have her own space back.” Emily shook her head with wide eyes as she logged into her computer. “But she’s panicking now, because she wants to settle down. She’s nearly twenty-six, she thought she would be married by now. She was even talking about kids with this guy, so she’s feeling a little nervy about being on her own. Oh! That reminds me…”

Emily turned to look back at you, a grin on her face. You raise an eyebrow at her. “What?”

“There’s someone I think you should meet.”

You fought the urge to roll your eyes at your co-worker. One, because Emily had linked her sister’s ‘impending doom’ at being single with you, and two, it was the same story every time. Someone knows someone you should meet, and you go out on a date, but nothing ever comes of it. “Who do I need to meet, Emily?”

“My neighbour,” she replied, smiling widely. “His name is Santiago. He’s great, he was in the army for a while, but he’s retired now.”

“Retired?” you pulled a face. Trust Emily to try and set you up with an old fogey.

Emily shook her head quickly at you, almost as if she’d read your mind. “No, not retired like you think, he’s not old. He’s barely forty. And he’s really good looking, and nice.”

You shook your head at her. “I don’t know, Emily, work is busy, and the launch is soon…I don’t even have time to fix my AC at home, never mind go on a date.”

Emily pulls a face and makes a noise that reminds you of a toddler not getting their own way. “Come on, he’s funny and charming, and he might be ‘the one’!”

You had never believed in that kind of stuff; ‘the one’ and ‘soulmates’ and all that. You believed that there were so many people in the world, that you can (and will) fall in love multiple times throughout your life. Sure, sometimes people do just find one person who they are happy with and choose to be with for the rest of their lives, but that just wasn’t you.

But – saying that - it had been a while since you went out on a proper date. You could do with having a bit of fun and getting out the office and your apartment. And Emily liked to think she was some sort of match maker, so you’d like to humour her, just this once. “Okay, fine.”

Emily smiled widely as she excitedly gave you Santiago’s number, telling you that he was already expecting a text from you. You pull a face at her at the fact she had already anticipated you would say yes (or were you just that predictable?) and had given Santiago the heads up. You saved his number quickly before throwing your phone in your desk drawer and turning back to Emily. “Let’s finish up these mock ups and get them sent out. If we get these out of the way, we can focus on looking into finalising the merchandise.”

Your day was filled with multiple phone calls, plenty of meetings, and regular catch ups with your clients. You had hit a few snags, which could potentially delay the launch, but you were determined not to get to that point, already setting up possible plans and sending them to your client for approval. You finally sat down for your lunch when everyone was readying up for leaving for the day and going home.

You scrolled through your phone as you ate your lunch (which might as well be your dinner at this point). You caught up on your texts (wine night was still on!) and scrolling through what you’d missed on the client's social media (not much). You suddenly remembered about Santiago, who Emily had decided to set you up with. You grinned as you found his number and started a new text chain.

Hi, you introduce yourself. I’m Emily’s co-worker, she might have mentioned I would text you today?

It was a few minutes later when you received a reply.

Hey. Emily did mention you’d message. I’m Santiago. Have you thought about where you'd like to go for our date? Any preference on food?

Oh, okay, straight to the point.

I'm open to suggestions. I like pretty much anything, do you have any recommendations?

There’s this little Italian restaurant called Bella Cucina. The food is amazing, and it has a cosy atmosphere. It's not too far from where I live.

Italian sounds perfect! What day works for you?

How about Saturday? We could aim for a 7:30pm reservation if that suits you? Emily mentioned you’d been spending a lot of time at the office.

And considerate.

Saturday sounds great. 7:30pm works well for me. I'm really looking forward to it. Just to be sure, Bella Cucina is on Main Street, right?

Bella Cucina is on Main Street. I'll make the reservation for two under my name.

That’s great, I’ll put it in my schedule. I look forward to meeting you!

See you then, have a great rest of your week.

He seemed nice enough. A little stiff, maybe, but that might be due to his army background. You wondered what he looked like. You could look him up on social media if you wanted to, but you barely used the accounts you had; mainly you updated your client’s posts as requested. You imagined Santiago to be a stereotypical, muscled man with a buzzcut and lots of tattoos. One who was stoic and stern, very set in his ways.

You’d definitely dated that guy in the past.

You placed your phone back into your bag before gathering the packages of your lunch/dinner. The office was quiet, meaning everyone had probably gone home. You threw away your rubbish, walking back towards your desk to finish up a few more emails and shut down your computer. Your friends would be arriving at your place in just over an hour, so you had to make a move.

You lock up the office and make your way out of the building, making your way to your car in it’s usual parking space in the lot next door. Luckily traffic didn’t look too bad, so you should have enough time to get home and quickly and shower before setting up for wine night for when your friends arrived.

You knew you’d be fine. You could do it. You were you, and you get shit down. Apart from fixing your AC. You really needed to call someone about that.

[cavirtualhubonline]

What is good to do for a Chartered Accountant after the 12th exam? Students are confused about taking B.Com or taking the road of C.A. directly?

Charting Your Course: When to Begin Your CA Journey?

The esteemed profession of chartered accountant (CA) beckons many aspiring individuals. It promises a diverse range of job opportunities and a well-paying career, making it a popular choice among students. 

Not Be confused about choosing a way to take CA

But a crucial question often arises: when to embark on this path? 

Should you start right after high school (12th grade) or pursue a Bachelor of Commerce (B.Com.) first?

After your 12th board examination in India, preparing for the Chartered Accountant (CA) exams is a challenging but lucrative road. A diligent study plan, dedication, and concentration are required to become a chartered accountant. 

Yes, CA is indeed a very tough path, but it is not impossible to play chess and become a CA. The thorough handbook or study notes will help prospective CAs with their preparation. Nowadays,  millions of online study materials are available for free to learn, including CA online coaching classes on the YouTube platform:

The answer, like most things in life, depends on your unique goals and preferences.

Starting after 12th:

Early Start, Early Finish: You get a head start on your CA journey, allowing you to qualify and enter the workforce sooner.

Streamlined Studies: The foundation course for CA, previously known as the Common Proficiency Test (CPT), can be taken right after the 12th. This allows you to integrate CA studies with your undergraduate courses if you choose to pursue one concurrently.

Starting after B.Com:

Strong Foundation: A, B.Com. degree equips you with a solid grounding in commerce and accounting principles, which can prove invaluable during your CA studies.

Master's Degree Option: If you have your sights set on a Master's in Commerce or a related field, completing your B.Com first provides a strong academic base.

The Bottom Line: It's All About You

Ultimately, the decision about when to pursue CA hinges on your aspirations and circumstances. Carefully weigh your options and seek guidance from professionals in the field before making a choice.

Ready to Dive Deeper?

If you're eager to learn more about the CA journey and the exciting career avenues it opens, explore our comprehensive guide (link in bio, if applicable) for a detailed roadmap to becoming a Chartered Accountant.

9 Tips to Overcome Your Fear of the CA Exam

Quitely Understand the Exam Structure: Become acquainted with the subjects, question patterns, and grading system of the CA exam, which includes the final CA exam, the IPCC (Integrated Professional Competence Course), and the CPT (Common Proficiency Test).

Carefully Join a trusted CA online coaching institute (should be online or offline): Make sure the coaching institute you select offers thorough study materials, professional advice, and a well-organized study schedule. 

Organizations such as the Institute of Chartered Accountants of India (ICAI) offer guidance and materials to help students get ready.

Schedule a timetable: Create a study plan that addresses each subject in detail. Give each subject adequate attention, taking into account both your level of expertise and the subject's intricacy.

Examining yourself daily is a multivitamin for you. (Regular Practices): To become more familiar with the steps of the exam and improve your ability to organize your time, solve practice questions, mock tests, and pass papers frequently for at least 10 years.

Attention on Theoretical Clarity: Instead of rote memorization, passing the CA exam requires a thorough or solid understanding of the subject matter. Give careful attention to comprehending the fundamental ideas and how they are used in actual situations.

Get Tips for Success: Don't be afraid or hesitate to ask seasoned instructors, fellow students, or mentors for advice. Clarification of ambiguities (doubts) and questions facilitates understanding.

Keep Up with Keep up with important events, revisions, and shifts in accounting rules because these will frequently be covered in the test.

Reviewing the syllabus is important as well: It is essential to regularly review all subjects. Plan time for review in your studies to ensure that you comprehend the material.

Read Also: Syllabus of ICAI CA Foundation Exam 2024: Exam Date, Marks

Maintaining health is good for you: Learning effectively requires not only intense study sessions but also regular breaks, rest periods, and a healthy balance between work and play.

Making an informed choice of the best training institute can be aided by investigating several coaching centers, their success rates, faculty expertise, study materials, and alumni reviews. In addition, organizations like Wisdom Academy - one of the renowned coaching centers—offer CA candidates high-quality instruction and direction. You are free to approach them at any time. outstanding performance on your CA online test.

Remember that passing the #CA examinations require not simply effort but also a planned and methodical CA study strategy. Aspiring CPAs may pass these tests and have a bright future in finance and accounting with hard work and devotion; programs like Wisdom Academy just move you one step closer to realizing your potential.

All the best… "If you want to shine like a sun, first burn like a sun." - Shri Abdul Kalam

[allwaswell16]

One Direction fan fics with a character who is a single parent as requested in this ask. If you enjoy the fics, please leave kudos and comments for the writers! You can find my other fic recs here. Happy reading!

—Louis/Harry—

the wonderlands by stylinsoncity / @aliensingucci

(M, 150k, music au) Harry's daughter, Andy, is signed to Louis' girl band. Her path to success is marked by competition, chaos, and for Harry, a love affair.

Just Pretend by @kingsofeverything

(E, 90k, silver fox fic) Louis Tomlinson is a divorced dad who doesn't date. What free time he has, he likes to spend with his teenage daughter, and if he wants to take someone home, he does it when she's spending the weekend with her mom.

Standing on the Edge of Forever by EllaO

(M, 55k, class play) Of course, everything changes the moment Lo and the twins get interested in their school musical, The Wizard of Oz. Because the new director, Louis Tomlinson, is just about the most attractive man that Harry has ever seen.

Know a Trick or Two by @sadaveniren

(E, 44k, Harry Potter au) the one where Muggle Harry and Wizard Louis have a one night stand and get more than they bargained out of it.

Play Me A Memory by jacaranda_bloom /  @jacaranda-bloom

(E, 26k, strangers to lovers) Louis lives with his nine-year-old son Jake in a peaceful beachside community on the east coast of Australia, working as an entertainment coordinator at the local five-star resort.

If We Have Each Other by ishiplouis / @pocketsunshineharry

(M, 23k, unplanned pregnancy) AU where Harry is a single father and a one-night stand is going to change his life forever.

When Least Expected by Rearviewdreamer /  @all-these-larrythings

(M, 22k, pandemic au) Drowning in a sea of emails and Zoom meetings in the living room, his lonely son falling more and more behind in his kitchen classroom, and crushing weight of the world being on house arrest for the foreseeable future, one fateful online interaction suddenly has everything looking up.

He Was a Different League (When I Was Nothing Much) by @afangirlfantasy

(NR, 21k, Marcel au)  an AU where finding that 'someone new' actually leads to finding that 'someone old,' and Marcel is painfully oblivious.

Took Me by Surprise by QuickedWeen / @becomeawendybird

(M, 20k, secret relationship) A decade later, he's the head anchor of the American version of Match of the Day and is raising the coolest nine-year-old on the planet, who happens to be obsessed with Harry Styles - popstar, musician, and all-around household name.

Not Ready for This by @berzerkshires

(E, 18k, secret relationship) Louis and Harry are both single fathers and their children decide to go out on a date.

Packed Lunches, Sticky Fingers and Accidental Levitation by LadyLondonderry

(G, 10k, magic au) Harry Styles is a skilled work-from-home potionist five years out of university with a steady job, a house, and... eight kids.

How It Begins (series) by phdmama / @phd-mama

(E, 8k, kid fic) New town, new job, new school for his daughter. It's a chance to start again for Louis Tomlinson, a clean slate. Or is it?

A Christmas Kiss by @parmahamlarrie

(T, 8k, Christmas) the one where Harry is a single dad, Louis is a pediatric nurse, and Arlo needs to stop eating hazelnuts.

Wait by the Light of the Moon by @jaerie

(E, 5k, neighbors) Being a single parent of a newborn was not in Harry's plan. He can barely keep himself together doing everything on his own. He can't explain why he finds comfort in his neighbour next door, but apparently it's mutual.

Deep in His Eyes (I Think I See A Future) by @fallinglikethis

(T, 5k, town fair) Louis is a single father with twins, Davis and Ethan. Harry is the cute nursery school teacher that volunteers at the town’s fair.

This is Halloween, everybody make a scene by @allwaswell16

(G, 2k, meet cute) When Louis takes his son trick-or-treating in a stormtrooper costume, little does he know by the end of the night he will end up gaining a Luke Skywalker, a Chewbacca, and a Rey.

—Rare Pairs—

Getting Good At This by pukeandcry

(E, 43k, Louis/Nick Grimshaw) Nick inherits custody of his baby god-daughter, and (predictably) has no idea what he’s doing; Louis only means to help out a bit, not fall in love with either of them.

Better With You by harriet_vane

(T, 38k, Liam/Louis) Single parent and solo artist Liam Payne hires Louis Tomlinson to be a full time nanny to his four year old son Sammy. 

Light 'Em Up (One Way Or Another) by sunsetmog / @magicalrocketships

(T, 6k, Harry/Nick Grimshaw) When his best friend from university asked him if he'd ever thought about fathering a child, Nick didn't ever envisage ending up a single parent. 

Oh, Pretty Baby by abrighteryellow / @a-brighter-yellow

(G, 4k, Niall/Shawn Mendes) Teaching toddler music classes at Gymboree barely feels like work to Shawn, until he meets a clever little girl with an Irish name and a charming dad.

[susandsnell]

The Batman/Reevesverse Scarecrow Speculation Post

So, with the hope that the Reevesverse Scarecrow spinoff still goes through (what with WB's currently tenuous position under Zaslav), here are some speculation points I've had for a while with regards to how dear Dr. Crane could fit into the Gotham universe of 2022's The Batman --

The Drops Trade: Probably the most obvious thread wherein to integrate him. As some rumours about the Penguin spinoff TV series have hinted that they'll pick up on this subplot (since we do see Oz is involved in it in the movie), and there is apparently already an epidemic in this universe's Gotham City, lacing a new strain with fear toxin would be an easy way to spread it massively through the city. This could easily tie him in with the mob characters (Oz et al), and would work well with the Se7en-esque mystery/detective story approach they're taking to Batman's character, with the inexplicable terrifying effects of this new strain of Drops leading Bats down a trail that ends with a disgraced former professor of psychology. What works against this is that it's argably too similar to the very rapidly abandoned drug dealer Scarecrow plot in The Dark Knight. But given that as with every Nolanverse Scarecrow plot point, that kind of just happened and went nowhere until Crane Barbied his way into a new job, and the fact that the series hasn't shied away from similarities/nods to TDK trilogy, there's still a solid chance for there to be a unique spin on it here.

Riddler leaks: Since this universe's Edward Nashton is big on exposing corruption and has a strong online presence, maybe he - or one of his following, acting in his name - will kickstart the start-of-darkness plot by prompting his firing from Arkham or Gotham University (if he works at either in this continuity) by leaking Dr. Crane's more unsavoury dealings and/or unethical practices and experimentation. Perhaps the Renewal Fund flowed through Gotham University and Crane siphoned from it to finance his fear toxin research? While I love the "this man fired a gun in his classroom to illustrate a point and got extremely mad that there were consequences" origin to death, I can admit this origin might be either considered either too silly or in poor taste for a grounded universe like the Reevesverse that does have at least some social commentary. Points against this route, however, are whether they intend to do much more with Edward Nashton; Paul Dano is reportedly signed on for more entries to the series, but given he had a whole movie to himself, and a prequel comic run, they might not want to saturate us on him. On the other hand, Matt Reeves has expressed an interest in building a full and robust Rogues Gallery, and the most successful visual adaptations that have done this have understood the value of the Rogues' relationships amongst themselves.

Arkham Doctor: A usual starting point for Crane, but nonetheless, we've established Arkham already in this universe, and with named and known characters staying there. There's also rumours of an Arkham Series that could bridge with the Scarecrow spinoff proper, and while Crane experimenting on the patients is rather typical, we do have some interesting opportunities -- a chance he interacts with Riddler and Joker, who are set up to be there, again laying the groundwork for a new Rogues Gallery (Poison Ivy is also confirmed to have a spinoff in the works, so she might be involved also), but moreover, an access to the records on Martha Wayne, nee Arkham, could bring him into the leverage/Wayne family drama, which would be especially fun if he still doesn't figure out Bruce's identity as Batman, he just resents the Waynes. Then again, even though Scarecrow's class struggle angle goes back to the earliest comic appearances, this ground has already been well-trodden with Edward Nashton and Selina Kyle in the first movie, so it depends on whether they want to take a new tack or expand Gotham's class disparity to be a major theme of the series.

anyway, these are just a handful of ideas - would love to hear other thoughts!

[bluestar22x]

You Had Me From Hello

The Writing Contest - Chapter 1: You Had Me From Hello

Summary: Unexpectedly, small town woman Nora Delaine wins a writing contest and is flown first class to Salinas Valley to meet her new screenwriting partner.

Pairing: Javi Gutierrez x Female!OC (Nora Delaine)

Rating: 18+ Series

Word Count: 5,500(ish)

Warnings: Second person POV, mentions of drug use/addiction/loss and troubles with unhealthy family dynamics.

Author’s Note: I took inspiration for Javi's new home from this moodboard made by @wildemaven.

xxx

This is insane. I can't believe I'm actually going through with this.

That's what you were thinking as you settled into your seat in first class on a Southwest Airline plane headed for the airport in Monterey, California where you would then take a taxi to Salinas Valley, arguably the capital of the wine industry in the United States. But that's not why you were headed there. Nope.

You were headed to one of the vineyards, but it wasn't to taste test wine and forget your troubles, it was to write with an apparently well known up-and-coming screenwriter named Javi Gutierrez, who until last week you personally hadn't known existed. Your best friend, Sierra Washington, however, had apparently heard plenty of him.

x

"You didn't!" you gasped, letting the letter in your hands float down to your kitchen table.

"I did!" your friend Sierra confirmed, grinning ear to ear.

"You entered my short story into a writing contest without my permission?" you hissed. You didn't feel that it had been anywhere near ready to be seen by anyone outside Sierra. When you'd sent her the document to proof read you'd trusted her not to share it with anyone else, and she'd betrayed that trust. You were furious.

"Aw, Nora, you were never going to release that document to anyone else if I didn't do it myself," she argued, placing a hand on her hip. "How many stories have I proof read for you? I loved every bit of them, yet every single one eventually ended up hidden in a file on your laptop and forgotten."

"They weren't good enough," you told her.

"Nothing ever is," she said, throwing her hands up in frustration. "You were stuck! You needed a little push. This is it. An opportunity to turn your story into a movie. Your dream!"

"I can't go to Salinas Valley for two months," you howled. "I haven't even found a new job yet!"

You'd recently been laid off from the pet magazine you'd been writing for since you turned twenty-five, nearly ten years ago, because of budget cuts a month ago and were having difficulty finding another job like it. You feared you might end up having to take a local job, instead of an online one, most likely waiting on tables. The thought of that made you cringe. You didn't like having to deal with the public. Even in a town as small as yours.

"Precisely!" Sierra exclaimed. "You need to work, and that's what this would be. You'd turn your story into a properly lengthy script with his help, and when it is bought you'll get money for it, along with some profits later on when the film is successful."

You snorted. "When?"

She narrowed her eyes at you. "When." Her tone was firm, certain.

You couldn't understand why she had so much faith in you when you'd spent most of your life failing. You'd struggled in college and you'd struggled to find a job and keep it for years. Writing for the pet magazine had felt mundane as far as writing went, but you'd been good at it and you'd finally felt like you had secured your future.

You should've known better with how the world was changing. Your generation and younger didn't read magazines anymore. You'd entered a dying industry that likely had an expiration date that would come before your retirement age.

"I can't afford to pay for another rent while I stay there," you continued.

She huffed. "Did you not read the part where it says all expenses will be paid? You'd be staying at his vineyard for free. You'd just need cash for extras. Like if you want take out or something."

"Staying at his vineyard..." You shook your head and met her copper brown eyes with your emerald green ones. "You really think I should be staying at a strange man's house, by myself?"

"He has tons of staff," she argued. "It's not much different from going on vacation and staying in a hotel by yourself."

You gave her an exasperated look. "That's way different! It's a private business and his staff aren't going to be there at night unless his runs it twenty-four seven."

"He knows Nic Cage," Sierra informed you, like that would make a difference to you. "They're friends. Javi's first screenplay was co-written with him."

You rolled your eyes. "Just cause you had a crush on Nic Cage in high school after you watched City of Angels and researched him, doesn't mean you know him and his friends."

"I did NOT have a crush on him," Sierra nearly shouted. "He's like three times my age."

"You did then."

"I did not."

You smirked and lifted your brows. "Thou protest too much."

She gritted her teeth, knowing full well that she wouldn't be able convince you otherwise. Because she had, in fact, had a celebrity crush on Nic Cage in high school.

She sighed. "Look. Sometimes you've got to take risks to gain the rewards. You can buy pepper spray when you land in California or something if it'll make you feel better. But I haven't heard anything about Javi Gutierrez that would suggest he'd be dangerous. And you wouldn't be sleeping in his mansion. You'd be in a guest house on the opposite side of the property. It overlooks some beautiful hills and valleys apparently. I did some research on Valley View Vineyard. That's his vineyard's name, fittingly. Anyway, it's apparently gorgeous in that area."

You had to admit to yourself a part of you was very tempted to say yes, not just to having help making a screenplay and selling it, but also to living in a California vacation destination for a while. You could use a break from your hometown.

"I can't," you said stubbornly. "I can't leave Buttercup and Tux with no one to watch them, and it wouldn't be fair to them to travel them out to California by plane. I wouldn't feel good about them being in cargo either. They're delicate creatures."

Buttercup and Tux were your two pet Lop rabbits, who you'd adopted as a bonded pair from a nearby animal shelter three years ago.

"I can watch them," Sierra offered. "I've done it for you before when you stayed in the hospital last year for food poisoning."

"Don't remind me," you groaned. That week had been the worst in your life and had put you off of salmon permanently.

She winced sympathetically. "Sorry."

"Look, even if I wanted to part from them for two freakin months," you started, sighing again, "Even if I wanted to go to California and write a script with a legit screenplay writer, my parents wouldn't approve. You know how worried they get."

"Yeah, I know," Sierra said with another huff. "I grew up with the product of their paranoia."

You couldn't help but laugh a little at that. Paranoia was a fitting word for it. Your parents were worry-warts. Especially since your older brother had died, leaving you as their only living child. Saying you were overprotected seemed to put it too simply. And you in turn were very wary of the world. Maybe too much. You'd turned down a lot of interesting parties and adventures with friends in favor of safety. You'd wanted to join your high school's travel club but had chickened out. Girls got kidnapped in foreign countries, after all.

The little voice in your head telling you such things sounded more like your mother's than yours.

"They'll say no," you added.

"Good thing you're a grown ass adult," Sierra reminded you firmly. "And you could lie and say you're staying at a rental to ease their minds."

You gave her a lopsided smile. "You're a bad influence on me, Ms. Washington."

"Somebody has to be!" she claimed.

You raked a hand through your shoulder length wavy brown hair as you silently debated over what choice to make. Stay or go. Safety or risk. You chewed your lip. "Fine. I'll do it."

Sierra jumped in spot and clapped like someone half her age. She squealed for you. "Oh my god, my girl's finally breaking rules and making her dreams come true."

You pursed your lips and silently hoped she was right. After all, there were no guarantees in life.

x

The next day you'd emailed Javi's manager, Walter, who was in charge of overseeing the contest and had helped Javi narrow all the submitted stories down to one. He'd immediately booked you a flight and told you to pack your bags, after reassuring you that Javi's intentions were good. He was going to co-write with you, but you'd be the top billing writer to the screenplay. He wasn't looking to take any credit that wasn't his.

Still, as you boarded the plane one week later, you found yourself nervous about the whole deal. You'd had to sign a contract, and part of that contract had protection for you and your script, saying you had all the rights, and therefore would have the final say over how it was written and what film company got to buy it. All nice things to ease your troubled mind, but you were worried now, a bit too late, over whether or not Javi would be a good fit as a writing partner. You'd seen his first film The Unbearable Weight Of Massive Talent the same night Sierra had handed you the letter, having wanted to make sure he'd be helpful and not be a bad influence instead when it came to your writing, and that had ended your concerns over his talent. The film was a little too out there for your liking, but you saw the heart behind it, and that was something you could work with.

The main concern you'd had since then was rooted in personality. You had no idea what he was like. He was clearly rich, anyone with a successful vineyard and a mansion was, and that concerned you, a child of two full time working parents who'd struggled to provide you with everything they'd wanted to give you. You'd been taught work ethic, you'd been taught to be polite to coworkers. What were the chances he'd been too? You shouldn't assume he'd be the typical rich person seen in media. You didn't know how most rich people actually behaved, and even if most were dramatic snobby leeches, that didn't mean he was.

That didn't stop you from thinking about how he might be during the entire time it took for the plane to take off.

"Would you like some wine?" a flight attendant asked some time later, drawing you from your inner thoughts.

You glanced up at her and blinked. This was new. You'd never been offered drinks on a plane, though this was only your second time in your life, the first time being when your family took a week long trip to Disneyland. "Is it on the house?"

"Of course," she replied with a knowing smile. "First time in first class?"

"You could probably guess that just by looking at my clothes," you reckoned. Most of the people seated around you were in suits or fancy business dresses, while you were dressed in a simple pair of light blue jeans, a bubble gum pink sweatshirt, and plain white sneakers.

The flight attendant shrugged. "We don't always get people in here who dress expensively. But most know about the complementary wine."

"I might as well take some," you said, "For the full experience. Don't know the next time someone will pay a ticket for me."

She laughed. "Would you be interested in a Pinot Noir?"

You had no idea what that meant, only really knowing wine as red or white, but decided to roll with it. "Sure."

As the flight attendant poured you a drink in a proper wine glass, you noticed the name on it. Valley View Vineyard. You wondered how widespread Javi's wine was as you accepted the drink and took a cautious sip.

It was good wine. Good was a lacking word. It was excellent. Smooth, flavorful. Better than any other wine you'd ever tasted. You could only guess that it was fairly expensive and aged well. You had to restrain yourself from downing the whole thing in under a minute. Wine wasn't meant for that, even a lower class small town girl like yourself who usually drank wine from a box knew that.

You did, however, make sure to have enough time for another glass before your flight landed.

x

Monterey Regional Airport, where you landed, was twelve miles from Salinas Valley, or around twenty-five minutes away. It took you an extra five minutes to actually get to Valley View Vineyard, totaling the cost of your taxi ride to nearly one hundred dollars, something that would've made you shudder if you hadn't just flown for free. You'd have had the ride for free if you had accepted the limousine Walter had offered you, but you hadn't been about to get in one of those things with what you'd been wearing for your flight. Besides, you didn't like feeling like you were leeching, having a real need to pay for some of your trip expenses. If you and Javi were successful, you'd get way more money back in profits anyway.

Salinas Valley was cooler than you'd expected, the temperature hovering around fifty-seven degrees Fahrenheit. It was a vast improvement from the thirty-two degree average in North Dakota, but not as hot as you'd imagined the middle of California would be, even though it was coastal.

They did have plenty of sun that day, something you knew your hometown wasn't going to get for the next a few days, a couple days of clouds and a severe snowstorm expected for most of the state.

On the way to the vineyard you cracked the widow to breath in the fresh air and you stared out at the landscape as the taxi drove by it at precisely the speed limit.

Salinas was gorgeous, as Sierra had promised. You passed many luscious green fields, farmed and unfarmed alike, several vineyards, and plenty of rolling hills and valleys, the latter expected, considering the name of the county.

You were excited by the time you arrived at Valley View Vineyard, anxious to see what the property itself looked like. You'd known it was fairly massive for a vineyard, sitting on one hundred and ten acres, but when you'd looked it up online the day after you'd gotten the letter, there wasn't much photos of the place anywhere, even on the official website. Mostly it had been photos of the grapes, the wine, and the wine making process, and mainly had detailed that process and how to get your hands on a bottle. You'd avoided looking at the history page, wanting to find out from Javi himself how he came to own it.

The vineyard was gated, with elegant iron bars, and your taxi driver had to press a speaker button on a fence post to be let in. Both sides of the tarred driveway was lined with bushes, leading up to the mansion, a Spanish styled home with arches you'd never seen before outside movies and TV shows that had taken place in Spain or South America. Beyond that were grape vines in every direction until they met the hills that bordered the area.

Walter was waiting for you on the front porch, a man in his sixties, with surprisingly thick gray hair and a considerably youthful face. You imagined he had several more decades left in him if his appearance was anything to go by. It was probably in spite of his job. You couldn't imagine a manager of any kind having it too easy.

The dark gray pinsuit he was wearing made you feel very under dressed, but he shook your hand and introduced himself without even twitching an eye, and helped you carry your belongings to a yellow Jeep in the corner of the driveway.

"Javi will be here soon to personally show you around," he informed you. "I'll drop your bags off inside the guest house."

"You don't need to do that," you proclaimed, not wanting to be a burden to anyone. You didn't think it was part of a talent manager's job to bring suitcases anywhere.

"It's no problem," Walter promised you, hopping into the Jeep's driver's seat. "We will talk more later, when you are done touring, to sort out some more paperwork. Legal stuff. Stick by the front porch. That's where Javi asked me to tell you to be."

"Okay," you said, waving at him. "Thanks."

He nodded at you, a warm smile spreading across his face. "You're welcome, Miss Delaine."

"Nora," you corrected him. "I don't like formalities."

"That's something you'll have to get used to if you want to take part in Hollywood," Walter warned you, "But I will call you Nora by default, when appropriate."

Then he was on his way, leaving you to kick pebbles off the tar by the porch. It was nearly ten minutes later when you spotted a man approaching at a brisk walk from a large industrial looking building to your left.

He was wearing sunglasses, a thick long sleeved orange button down shirt, dark blue jeans, and tan boat shoes. He appeared to be in his early forties, with limited gray hair in his patchy, but well trimmed beard. His dark brown hair was short, but wildly curled, and his skin was golden, tanned from spending most of his days out in the sun.

As he neared you and pulled off his sunglasses, you noticed his eyes were dark like his hair, and that he was at least a half a foot taller than you, probably just shy of six feet. Taller than most people you'd ever been around, especially family, but not untypically tall for someone in Hollywood.

He was worthy of Hollywood, you'd thought. He was handsome, and that was an understatement as far as you were concerned. No boy in your high school graduating class could've held up beside him and you felt your insides warm as you studied him.

Easy, you silently ordered yourself. You're just here to learn script writing from him, hopefully make a movie, and go back home. Besides, looks aren't everything.

"I'm so sorry I'm late," he apologized in a rush when he got within earshot of you, "I was helping my employees clean up a wine spill."

He spoke smoothly, with an accent that was far from any you'd heard before with your own ears. South American, maybe? Spaniard? You could definitely hear an infliction there that suggested he'd grown up speaking more Spanish than English.

"Oh no," you said earnestly. "Hope it wasn't too bad."

"Nothing we can't recover from," he assured you. He broke out into a bright smile and outstretched his right hand. "Javi Gutierrez."

You shook his offered hand and beamed back at him, putting on your best friendly demeanor. "Nora Delaine."

"It's so lovely to meet you, Nora," he said, covering your hand with his left one briefly before pulling both his hands away from you. His hold on you was long enough for you to notice how large his hands were in comparison to yours, and softer than you'd expected. You tried not to think about them too much.

"Let me show you around," he continued quickly, "It will give us a chance to get to know each other, no?"

"I'd like that," you replied honestly. "I've always been curious about how wine was made."

His lips tugged back even more, and in that moment he looked like a kid on Christmas morning. Excited and wide-eyed. You wondered if he was always this happy to meet guests. "Great! This way, then."

He guided you on a stroll around the main parts of the vineyard, showing you inside the buildings where the grapes were stored, turned into wine, and where the wine was aged in barrels. He also took you through rows of grapes in the fields behind his home, detailing the care that he and his staff had to put into them before they were ready to harvest in the autumn season.

"You know your stuff," you noted as you walked shoulder to shoulder with him. "I take you're not one to observe while your employees do all the work?"

"I used to be," Javi admitted, "But when I bought this place I decided I wanted to change that. Made a point to spend some spare time helping harvest the grapes and pour the wine into the barrels. I still have much to learn. Wine making is actually interesting to watch and inspired the last script I wrote, as you might tell."

You did not mention you'd only seen his first movie, afraid to insult him. You focused on the other tidbit in his confession. "You didn't grow up here?"

"No," Javi confirmed, in the way Spanish speaking people pronounce it. "I grew up on an olive estate in Mallorca, also called Majorca, it's an island off the coast of Spain."

"Why'd you move here?" you inquired. You'd seen pictures of islands in the Mediterranean Sea, watched movies that were filmed there. Who'd want to move away from that?

He hesitated for a second before answering, shoving one of his hands into a side pocket of his jeans. "I guess you could say I needed a fresh start. And this place being a lot closer to Hollywood, I thought the move could help my career."

"Has it?"

He hummed. "I think so. But even if not, I like it here."

"So how long have you owned this place?" you asked.

"A little over two years," Javi replied. "It was already a very successful vineyard when I bought it from the previous owner's daughter who wanted nothing to do with it after he died. I kept on most of the staff, including the manager, Enzo. He's the only reason it's still successful. I hardly know enough to dare participate in the business. He's taught me everything I have managed to learn about it and I'm very grateful. He's helped me gain financial independence from my family."

There was something about how humble Javi was being about his lack of experience that made it hard for you not to like him already. He definitely did not seem like he had a spoiled rich man's attitude.

"Does your family visit?"

Javi's brows knitted together and his smile fell. "No. We do not get along, unfortunately. Not anymore. My family...they are, as some people say, toxic."

"I'm sorry." You felt bad for being nosy about it. "My parents aren't easy either, they're a bit too overprotective. In fact, I had to lie about some of the details of this project to get here. Otherwise, they'd have talked me out of it. But at least we get along enough to still care about visiting each other."

"It's a shame you had to lie," he said, "But selfishly I am glad you did whatever it took to get here. When I read your script, it drew me in like witchcraft. The way you write...it's compelling. Poetic. And for such a simple premise, you made it exciting. It made me look at a so called average life with new appreciation I did not have in my youth."

"You can thank my friend Sierra for everything," you told him. "She submitted my work. She convinced me to come."

"I owe her a debt then," he concluded, and you blushed. You knew he was saying that because he was excited to work with you, but a part of your brain had jumped to the conclusion that he owed her for you. Not like you hadn't just met.

"If you want to repay it have Nic Cage send her a message or something," you suggested. "She's a big fan."

"No way!" he exclaimed giddily, halting suddenly. "I must meet her someday! I'm a huge fan myself."

"Aren't you and Nic friends?" you quizzed, confused.

"Being a friend now does not negate the appreciation I had of his work before," he declared. "But it does mean setting up a meeting between them would be fairly easy. She could even stay with us for a time."

Us. Oh, his choice of words. You ignored the flip of your stomach. It was absurd. Javi wasn't really your type. Rich and energetic. Earnest and puppy-eyed. Right? You frowned.

He led you out of the rows of grapes to the far corner of the property where beautiful rolling hills back dropped a cozy looking two story ranch styled house that had recently been painted white. It was far more modest than his mansion, but still twice as big as your childhood home.

"That is where you'll be staying," he declared. "Do you wish to see it first or the space we'll be working in?"

"House first," you decided quickly. "I want to grab a few things from my bag to put on my desk. Assuming I'll have one?"

"Of course!"

The inside of the house was rustic. It reminded you of home, minus the buck antlers your dad had hung up on the living room wall. Not that he'd hunted a day in his life. He'd found them while hiking through the forest with the family dog in the dead of winter, the pair having naturally shed off of the deer they had once been attached to.

"This is wonderful," you commented as your eyes fell on your bags by the staircase. Walter had dropped them off as promised.

Javi beamed at you. "I am glad you like it. I admit, it's not my style."

"It wouldn't be, would it?" you mused. "This is very western themed, not island."

"It was once a place for temporary employees to stay," he informed you. "It was remodeled and decorated this way before I bought it. I just haven't bothered to change it."

"There's nothing that needs changing," you told him surely. You weren't going to allow anyone to insult the taste of most of your hometown.

He chuckled. "Maybe not."

You reached for one of your smaller bags and pulled out a stuffed giraffe and a photo of your two rabbits, plus another of a man your age, military short hair and a wide grin on his face.

"Is that your boyfriend?" Javi inquired curiously.

You shook your head somberly. "No, this is Kip, my brother. Was, rather. He overdosed on opioids last April."

Javi expressed honest dismay. "Oh no. I am so sorry. Were you close?"

"Very," you answered, chewing your lip, remembering the last time when Kip was alive and truly happy. It was far too long ago to be comforting. "He was only older than me by a year. Was quite different than me though. Very independent. Whenever my parents told him to do something he did the opposite. That's how he ended up in the military. It's how he ended up a war veteran with a bad back, which led doctors to treating him with strong drugs and in turn got him addicted to them."

"There are no words," Javi said gently, squeezing your arm at the elbow. "Is he going on your desk?"

"The fire mantle," you told him, heading for the fireplace in the living room and placing the framed photo on the shelf above it, carefully setting it there. You returned to Javi's side after. "Now I'm ready to check out the office."

He must have sensed that you didn't want to discuss your brother anymore because he just nodded and followed you out of the house.

x

The inside of Javi's mansion was...excessive. Six bedrooms, six full sized bathrooms to go with them, another two basic bathrooms (one for each floor), a massive kitchen and living room, a dining room, a personal office, a game room, a movie theater, and a sun room. There was a double stairway of course, and the rooms were mostly white, with some gold and black accents.

While you weren't a huge fan of overly sized houses and lack of color, you had to admit it was impressive, and some of the rooms were charming, likely thanks to a talented interior decorator.

One of the most charming rooms was the sun room, with all of its natural light and green house plants in vases. There were even a few vines hanging from the walls. It was the last room on the tour.

"This is where we'll be working," Javi informed you, nodding at the two desks set up in a corner. "I like writing out here. Feels too stuffy in the office. What do you think?"

"It's beautiful in here," you commented, awe in your voice. "I'm sure I'll get plenty of inspiration from it."

"Great!" Javi exclaimed, clapping his hands together, startling you. "I'll give you some time to fix up your desk to your liking, the one closest to the door, and have you meet me out back for dinner when you're ready."

"Dinner?" you questioned, frowning.

"Is it supper where you're from?" Javi asked when he noticed your confusion.

"Yes, but it's not that," you replied, explaining, "I didn't know I'd be eating with you tonight."

"Is that a problem?"

"No," you said a little too fast, cheeks threatening to turn red. "I just didn't expect it."

"As long as you're on this property you will never need to cook unless you wish to," Javi told you. "The chef here is excellent and always cooks up way too much for me. You'd be doing me a favor by joining me. And I'd like to get to know you a little more before we start writing together tomorrow."

"Would it be rude to ask what's on the menu?" you inquired.

He grinned. "Not at all. It's shrimp scampi tonight. Though there are alternatives available if you are allergic or vegan."

"I'm not, and I would never say no to shrimp," you declared.

He chuckled at your enthusiasm. "Good. Dinner will be served in thirty minutes, until then -"

"You'll be out on the back patio area," you finished for him.

He nodded. "Just through the doors."

He backed out of the room through a pair of beautifully detailed white doors and you could see him sit down in one of the patio chairs. He pulled out his phone and made a call you could not hear from inside and you forced yourself to look away, not wanting to be caught staring like a creepy stalker.

You placed your stuffed toy giraffe on the center of your desk next to the tape and stapler, along with the framed photo of your rabbits, before plopping down in the chair behind it to open up the new laptop you'd been gifted.

It was sooo fast to start up, and the perfect size for you. You hoped at the end of the two months you were staying that you'd be able to keep it. Especially after you went on to spend the half hour Javi had given you setting up the laptop, which included adding giraffe wallpaper to the main screen.

Once you were done, with a few minutes to spare, you stepped outside.

The back patio was made of gorgeous red brick and covered with more plant vases. The standard pool and hot tub were beside a four person outdoor table with an umbrella for shade.

The area looked so peaceful and dreamy that you weren't sure a space could get better until you laid eyes on the mini pond a yard away from the glass table, and noticed the brightly colored fish swimming in it. Fish splattered and patched with reds, oranges, blues, and blacks on their white bodies.

"Koi fish?" you quizzed when Javi glanced up at you from reading an email on his phone.

"Came with the house," he told you. "But I kept them cause I decided I liked them. Do you like Koi?"

You nodded. "I always wanted to have some of my own someday. But North Dakota winters would be hard for them to combat and Koi are expensive."

"Well, you can come back here and watch them whenever you like while you're staying here," Javi said. "Maybe they'll inspire you."

"A sun room and a Koi pond." You smirked. "Careful, you might not be able to get rid of me."

Javi parted his lips and closed them like he was going to say something but decided not to, and you blinked curiously at him. What had he been wanting to say but thought was best not said?

"Dinner is served!" a woman who was most likely Javi's chef, shouted.

He beamed at you. "Prepare to have the best shrimp in your life."

x

Javi was right, the shrimp was amazing, and the company continued to be pleasant. It was just you and him for an hour, the chef checking in briefly on occasion to offer wine and water refills and several well spaced out courses of Mediterranean food. You were stuffed when you were finished, and you wanted to sit by the Koi pond and digest, but you thought it would be best not to overstay your welcome.

"Well, I'd better go," you announced, trying to sound casual, as you stood back up. You were about to fish for some answers to questions that had been dancing around in your head all day. "I'm sure your girlfriend - or boyfriend - will want me out of the house when they get here."

"Neither," Javi told you, smiling as if he knew you were digging for information. He probably did. You were rarely subtle. "I'm not dating anyone right now. My last girlfriend moved to America with me but after living together for a month we realized we were better just as friends and she went back to Spain."

You winced. "I'm sorry to hear that."

"It's okay," he assured you. "We're still friends."

Friends? The word shouldn't have made your stomach flip as it did.

"Good," you murmured, not sure what else to say to a statement like that. "Too many of my past relationships ended nasty or by ignoring each other awkwardly."

You sighed and stretched your right hand out. He stood and shook it again. "Goodnight, Nora."

"Goodnight, Javi."

With that, you left him physically, but your brain didn't. For half the night you couldn't help replaying the time you'd spent with him, committing it to memory.

It had been a great first day, but you feared that you were already tempted to enter a dangerous game.

The kind of game that could break your heart.

xxx

Tagged: @harriedandharassed

xxx

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

xxx

[slugdragoon]

RPG Role Analysis Series #14 - Mother/Earthbound Beginnings

Haven't posted anything not related to my game in a while, got quite wrapped up in development between a busy week an done where I was trying to catch up. Should be a new devlog tomorrow, but felt like getting back to another light RPG talk.

This time, I'm starting with the Mother series, and I have played the original, so I'll start there so that I can compare how Earthbound and Mother 3 iterate on it's approach to party composition. This is a nice easy one, as the first games generally have a static party of 4, and only occasionally a few temporary members, mostly in Mother 3.

Ninten - Ninten is often thought of as a prototype for Ness, for players more familiar with Earthbound, but notably Ninten does not get access to any offensive PSI abilities. Ninten has access to LifeUp, but gets all tiers of the ability much later than Ana, and can never restore all HP to all allies like she can. Ninten learns all the upper tiers of healing at closely packed levels in the upper range, even a revival spell in SuprHealing, coming online as a nearly full healer in the late game. Ninten also can cure all of the same status ailments as Ana, as well as but up PSI as a damage blocking or reflecting shield, but only slightly later. It's significant, but he isn't held back from curing status or using shielding PSI for as long as he is restoring health. In Mother 1, only Ninten can raise the party's Offense, Defense or Speed, or lower the Defense of enemies, or use PSI to guarantee escape from battle. Ninten is comfortably a support class, with his ability list dominated by buffing, blocking, and just enough healing to stabilize a bad situation. He has a bit of bard flavour (a hint of jack-of-all-trades there with the perfectly balanced stats and decent weapons, to go with the buffing), but overall feels like a support cleric.

Lloyd - Doesn't use PSI, so doesn't have a big list of abilities to analyze. Lloyd has pitiful Defense and Speed, but his best stat is Wisdom, and his Offense is OK too. He uses guns which ignore defense, but in some versions guns are not able to critical (which seems to be the actual intended behaviour). Lloyds main use is to make use of consumable items like Bomb, Bottle Rocket, Flamethrower, Laser Beam, Plasma Beam and Sticky Machine, which only he can use. Collectively, they mean Lloyd can deal Fire and non-elemental damage (which isn't a problem for Ana either), and bind enemies to stop them from acting, so long as he has the correct item. He can also make better use of items like Flashdark which blind enemies and have a higher rate of success due to his high Wisdom. Technically Ana could do it even better, but she has better things to do with PSI. Honestly, Lloyd is just outclassed, but his real purpose isn;t to do anything better than anyone, but to force the player to engage with items and prepare to make the most out of his party slot. It's expensive just to get him to be comparable to Ana, but smart item usage will maximize his potential and allow him to do damage some turns when Ana need to heal up. Overall, Lloyd has the capabilities of a black mage-ish character, but it's all item-based, so you can actually think of him much like the ninjas in early Final Fantasy games that use thrown items.

Ana - Ana excels at PSI abilities, and is the best healer and offensive PSI-user in the game. As I said with Ninten, Ana gets all of the health-restoring (including revival) and status ailment-curing abilities at a steady pace, faster than Ninten, and scaled more appropriately. She also has offensive Freeze, Thunder, Fire, and non-elemental Beam PSIs. Ana has the exclusive abilities to confuse, paralyze or put enemies to sleep using PSI, disable their ability to use PSI themselves (Silence, effectively), remove their PSI shields, and drain PP. She doesn't use buffs, but besides that, Ana is a PSI specialist, which is really Mother's equivalent of magic, so she's really a lot like a Dragon Quest sage, being a great healer and offensively stong, and outclassing other party members without really having to specialize. Ana won't be using melee attacks, but she can really do it all. The point is to manage her MP and make sure the other party members are keeping up (Lloyd using his items to cover for her damage output when she has to heal, Ninten on support).

Teddy - Teddy's just a real simple melee character. He get's the strongest weapon, and has the best physical stats, can't use PSI, and doesn't have the Wisdom to make use of certain Items in the same way as Lloyd (plus a lot of those items are exclusive to Lloyd). Kind of reminds me of the Prince of Midenhall in Dragon Quest II in that Teddy literally doesn't do anything but attack. The interesting part comes in the fact that he's really strong, but is only a temporary party member for most players, and the party can only have three of these members at a time. If you know how, you can make the decision to swap him for Lloyd last minute. Other than that' Teddy is a really simple Fighter. The Ninten + Ana + Teddy party really resembles the trio from Dragon Quest II, and the fighter/mage/middleground triad is about as core a trio as the tank DPS/healer/tank triad.

Shoutout also to Pippi, a temporary character that's just a low-level Teddy. Pretty strong in her section of the game.

So that's it! I'll be curious to compare what design decisions to refine Ninten into Ness, Ana into Paula, and Lloyd into Jeff. Teddy is quite different than Poo.