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#thankfully this series can now sit with the movies in the 'just from these i can headcanon him as aroace and no canon contradicts me' pile
philcoulsonismyhero · 2 years
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Quick heads up, I finally watched the Obi-Wan show after thoroughly spoiling myself so I’d know if anything in it was going to upset/offend me, and I’m probably going to go on a reblog spree soon-ish. I’ll be tagging everything from the show with ‘obi wan show’, so filter away if you need/want to.
Short summary of my opinions on it - Obi-Wan felt like Obi-Wan and was very entertaining to watch as always, I was there just for him and on that front it was a very fun time. Tiny Leia was delightful. I will be skipping pretty much any scene where neither of them is onscreen whenever I rewatch, I couldn’t care less about the Inquisitor drama, although Reva was vaguely interesting in and of herself. It was a pretty contained story so it didn’t have any big conflicts with Legends canon beyond the specifics of the Inquisitors, or at least not big enough that I noticed on a first go through, so I was able to watch it without my brain freaking out on me and that’s a nice change re: recent Star Wars media. Don’t ask me about its overall merits as a story, I was just there to see my best guy without getting too mad about the story around him, and on that front it was a success.
Hit me up if you want any specific spoilers, I’m happy to do that for other folks who may have similarly complicated relationships with the new stuff.
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hwaslayer · 4 months
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project: make you love me (jyh) | sixteen.
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♣︎ spotify playlist | series masterlist
—summary: yunho can’t stand how you’re so wrapped up in the notorious campus fuckboy, park seonghwa. he would gladly love you the way you deserve, despite being shy, awkward and the complete opposite of seonghwa. thus, when he finds himself spending more time with you over literature reviews and random study sessions, he decides to take on the challenge to win you over.
—pairing: jeong yunho x f. reader
—genre: (18+ - minors dni) strangers/friends to lovers, college au | fluff, angst, smut
—word count: 3.6k
—chapter content/warnings: cussing/mature language, seonghwa, physical fighting, mingi calling his friend out on his stupidity, crying, sorry if i missed anything.. quickly edited this lol, yunho is just mad and overwhelmed with his feelings rn 😭
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yunho: baby
yunho: wait at the science building later, please? i'll come get you so we can walk to my car together
you: okee ☺️
yunho: ☺️ see you later? enjoy the rest of your classes
you: you too, my bighead!
Yunho smiles at his phone before tucking it away, slowly following Yeosang to their group study session.
"Should I even ask why you're smiling like that?" Yunho looks up at Yeosang and chuckles.
"Just Y/N."
"Of course. Is she in class?"
"Yup. She's in the back row being all distracted."
"Perfect way to pass time in my honest opinion." Yeo clears his throat. "I've been meaning to ask you out of curiosity."
"What's up?"
"Have you guys told each other 'I love you' and everything?" 
"Mm, no. Not yet at least."
"Not yet?" Yeosang smiles. "You feel that way for her, don't you?"
"I do. I just.. I don't know? I don't know if it's too soon. What if I scare her off?"
"Nah, doubt that. You can't put a timer on these things."
"True. Plus, it sounds cliché and like it's out of a movie, but I truly wanna wait 'till it feels right to say it to her."
"That makes sense."
"Trust me, I really do feel that way for her." He lets out a breath as they look towards the library building, the sun from behind slightly blinding them as they approach the doors. "She has literally become my bestfriend. It's crazy how life works."
"I know. I remember when you first told me you were helping her out for literature." Yeosang chuckles. "Or when you'd save her in the back lot."
"Still can't believe that was even real." Yunho does a tiny head tilt. "He's really something."
"What was up with Y/N's birthday thing? How did he even know?"
"I don't know. Word gets around fast. Why wouldn't Seonghwa know? Especially since it has to do with Y/N."
"Can't wait till the day he leaves you two alone. Must be fucking annoying to deal with."
"I try not to mind it. Though, I think he's been getting bolder lately and I can't put my finger on it."
"Has Y/N said anything?" He shakes his head.
"No. Maybe I'm just overthinking. She just seemed a little weird about him at her birthday party."
"Well, yeah. It's Seonghwa." Yeosang waves at their study group sitting at the far end of the library in the loud section.
"Yeah, but, I don't know. It was different. She seemed bothered about something but she hasn't told me anything. I assume it's not a big deal."
"Hm. Well, I'm sure it's not either. Just Seonghwa being himself, maybe."
"Mm, whatever though." Yunho greets the study group as they approach the table. "She's my girlfriend now, and that won't change." Yeosang gives him a small smile before they settle with the group and begin their long study session together.
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"Remember, we have a test next class. Make sure you study everything I included in the study guide. Don't skip on anything just because you think it's a minor detail! Nothing is minor!" Your professor says before dismissing the class. You let out a sigh, already stressing over the next test. You didn't do bad on the first test, but you also didn't do the greatest. Thankfully, you're still at a good point in the semester, which gives you enough time to pull your grade up.
Once the initial rush of people leaving the classroom dies down, you pack up your things and head out the door. You hurry out of the classroom and down the steps, excited to see your boyfriend after yet another long day. For a split second, the building is crowded with other students leaving their classes and heading to their next destination— whether it be the next class, the library or to their cars. It's a sudden swarm of people that you don't even realize Seonghwa had stepped out of his own class, following you down the corridor.
"Y/N." You hear Seonghwa's voice behind you. You try to mind your own business, subtly rolling your eyes as you walk out of the science building to reunite with Yunho. 
Except, he isn't exactly there yet and Seonghwa grabs you by the wrist.
"Y/N." He repeats, turning you to face him.
"What are you doing?" You question him.
"Just a second." You let out a loud, heavy sigh. "Why are you being like this?"
"Like what?"
"Like you ignoring me. You haven't answered any of my texts or calls—"
"Why do I need to?" You raise a brow. "You're not actually serious, right? I have no reason to respond to you, Seonghwa. Don't you have places to be, people to see?" You pause. "Don't you realize you're a little too late? This was something I needed from you way before. I don't need it from you now."
"I know it's late, but I don't wanna give up on this."
"This? This has been done for a long time, you and I both know that. You're only worried about losing the only safety blanket you've ever had. Why can't you just move on and let me be happy?"
"Happy?" Seonghwa almost scoffs. "With him? Okay, baby." He shakes his head. "Listen. Enough of this for real. Can you please just hear me out, I'll explain and apologize properly—"
"Seonghwa, stop calling me that. What don't you understand about no?" You say almost at a whine, his hand still having a grip on the edge of your wrist. You truly don't want to entertain this, but Seonghwa almost gives you no way out, no way around his bullshit, and unfortunately, that'll be the root of everything that unfolds tonight. Yunho is happily [and eagerly] making his way down to you after the long, heavy study group session, while Yeosang decides he's gonna stay behind in order to hit the gym and get his workout in. Yunho is a few minutes late, but he knows you'll still flash him that beautiful, million-watt smile he adores so much before wrapping your arms around him.
He can't wait.
But, Yunho slows in his steps just as he's close to the front doors; familiar voices filling the surprisingly empty, quiet space.  It's you, and he already feels himself boiling with anger when he hears who else is occupying your time right now.
"Why haven't you even said anything about the flowers and the card I gave you? Did you even get them?" Yunho overhears Seonghwa ask you, and he furrows his brows. What flowers and card? You don't answer right away, and Seonghwa is quick to follow up. Yunho doesn't even get to hear your response about it and the most upsetting part of all this— is that this is how he finds out about everything.
Not from you, but from Seonghwa.
"You couldn't even send me a text? I was worried you didn't get it. I wanted to talk to you afterwards."
"What is there to talk about?"
"Yeah, what is there to talk about?" You and Seonghwa turn towards Yunho, who stands there with his hands dug deep into his pockets. His jaw is slightly clenched, head titled to the side while he waits for a response. Seonghwa lets out a pathetic chuckle, hand slipping down your wrist as he fully faces him.
"Loverboy sounds upset over a little talk."
"A little talk? Is that an add-on for the flowers and card you sent her?" Yunho sounds more stern, more angry. You can't even blame him, but at the same time, it's unusual for you to hear him this way. You're not sure what could come out of this and you don't necessarily want to find out.
"I'm sorry, should I have sent you some, too?" Seonghwa steps closer to him and the panic starts to settle in for you. You wish someone, anyone, was around to help. Because although you don't think Yunho will let this blow out of proportion, you aren't 100% about your answer. You're not sure how Yunho manages his anger in these situations and you're not sure what triggers him; what tips him over the edge and is the 'cherry on top.' Seonghwa has always rubbed him the wrong way and you don't think this could end remotely pretty. "I'll take note of that for next time so you don't have to sit there and stare at Y/N's."
How you wish Seonghwa had just gotten the point. Why couldn't he just let you be? Why was he out to ruin your happiness so badly?
"Seonghwa. This is done. Let it go." You warn him, but it doesn't clear anything. You aren't getting through to any of them.
"Back up. I'm not asking." Yunho clenches his jaw as he comes face to face with Seonghwa, making him give off a small scoff.
"Aw. Loverboy's mad—" And that's exactly the tipping point for Yunho. He's not sure why, he usually has a lot of patience. He usually brushes things off easily, doesn't hold a grudge or stay angry for long. But, Seonghwa? He was a different story, especially because of the history you have with him. Every little thing about Seonghwa pisses him off— down to the way he moves, breathes, acts like he can always get his way so easily, so quickly. Before he can even think about the consequences, or how you'd feel, Yunho swings at him, making Seonghwa stumble backwards. 
"Yunho!—" You gasp, Yunho's initial punch is pretty rough that it had Seonghwa in shock before being able to register what just happened.
"Fuck you—" Is all Seonghwa spits out before going at Yunho. The two continue to go at it, pushing and gripping at each other's shirts, rough attempts at landing punches;
They're almost successful with tearing each other's heads off until you step in between and get involved.
"Stop!" You step in between to try and prevent the fight from escalating even more. "Stop it!" You push Seonghwa back when he tries coming for Yunho, a campus security guard dashing towards all of you to completely break up the scuffle.
"Knock it off! The hell are you two doing acting like this on campus? I suggest you two part ways now before we call the cops over!"
"Yo, what the fuck?!" Mingi comes from around the corner, grabbing at Seonghwa's arm to pull him back. "The fuck are you doing, dude?" He looks at his bestfriend in disbelief.
"Why don't you ask your friend who fucking started it—"
"Me?" Yunho spits, while Seonghwa wipes the blood at the corner of his lip. "I wouldn't have had to if you just knew how to back the fuck off!" Yunho is angry, continuing to raise his voice. "Let me catch you sending shit to my girlfriend one more time and see what the fuck I'll do—" 
"Yunho." You say softly, tugging back at his arm.
"Are you serious?" Mingi looks at Seonghwa. "You don't go messing around with people's relationships, Hwa. You need to let this go, you look crazy!" 
"Oh, so all of a sudden you're sticking up for your friend?"
"Yeah, because he is my friend and it's just shit you don't do! What the fuck don't you understand about that?! You fucking deserved that shit!" Mingi shakes his head before pushing Hwa forward, pulling him off to the side to continue talking to him. 
"Babe." You turn to Yunho after Mingi and Seonghwa create good distance, hand coming up to cup Yunho's cheek. But, he turns, slightly shaking his head at you. You pull your hand back and feel your heart drop, the look in Yunho's eyes being one that you've never experienced before.
Sadness, hurt, anger. 
Mostly sadness, hurt.
"What flowers was he talking about, Y/N?" His chest is still rising at a somewhat uneven pace, doing his best to calm down after the adrenaline rush.
"H-he left them at my doorstep after we came back from the snow. I'm really sorry, Yunho, I didn't tell you because I tossed it out and—"
"But still, it's the fact that you didn't tell me after all this time." Yunho's brows are tightly knitted together, and the look causes your heart to sink even deeper. "Why did you have to let me find out this way? Were you going to tell me about this too if I hadn't come right away?"
"I just didn't get around to telling you because I didn't think it would matter— Seonghwa doesn't matter."
"If he didn't, then wouldn't you be able to tell me without questioning it so much?"
"Yunho, no. I'm sorry, no." You repeat, tears pricking your eye lids. "I didn't mean for it to seem like that. I really didn't mean to hide this from you."
"Did you think about keeping them?"
"I—I, no. I thought—" Yunho hears you stuttering and his throat suddenly feels dry. Why can't you just tell him? Even if Seonghwa didn't matter to you, why couldn't you trust him enough to tell him? 
Why couldn't you feel comfortable enough to tell him?
"Be honest with me, Y/N. That's all I've ever asked. Did you or did you not think about it keeping it?" Silence. And god, it is the most gut-wrenching silence Yunho has ever endured.
Yup. Got it. 
The answer is clear.
You did think about Seonghwa. You thought about accepting the flowers as his apology, you thought about the possibility— even if it was for a brief, splitting second. Seonghwa did matter for one fucking second, and that's what bothers him.
"Yunho, please. I just thought—" You can barely get through your sentences.
"Did you, or did you not?"
"I thought about keeping it, but it was so stupid. I was just blinded for a second, and I realized it didn't matter to me. He doesn't matter to me. At all. I promise. Everything just caught me off guard." You try to grab for his hand but he steps back. "Yunho, it was all stupid. I tossed it out so quickly. I wasn't going to do anything, I wasn't going to text, nothing."
"But, why does it feel like after everything he's put you through, you still believe he'd genuinely change? Why does it feel like a part of you is still actually holding onto that?" Well, when Yunho says it to your face like that, you feel dumb. Not once did you ever think about running back to Seonghwa and leaving this behind. But, you were blinded in that quick second from your history with Hwa, being close and sharing moments for months. Asking Seonghwa for little gestures like this, for more attention; even though it was a ride, you still had history.
And yes, maybe at one point you wanted to be the girl that changed him.
But today, you can't even imagine going back to that point. Not after being with Yunho, not after the happiness he's brought you.
Not after you realize how much you genuinely and truly love Yunho. 
You don't wanna lose him.
This is all so stupid, and a huge misunderstanding. But, you're the only person to blame here— if you hadn't given Seonghwa the time of day, if you had just told Yunho right away without second-guessing it, if you hadn't hesitated; you wouldn't be here right now.
"I'm not!" Your tone raises and it sounds like a whine at this point. "I'm not, Yunho. Please."
"Look, tonight was a lot." He sighs, running his hand through his hair before wincing and looking down at his knuckles. "I was excited to see you after a long day, Y/N. I was really looking forward to being with you. I wasn't expecting all of this and honestly, I don't know what's worse? Stumbling upon all of this the way I did, or not knowing at all."
"I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you. It was stupid and fucked up of me, and I'm sorry." You repeat, tears streaming down your cheeks.
"Maybe you just need to think about what you really want." Yunho shrugs. "I thought you were over the whole thing with Seonghwa, but clearly not if you're still considering on giving him the time of day."
"No, no, Yunho. Please don't. It's not that." You try to lace your hand with his, but he gently brushes it off with a shaky sigh. He doesn't wanna leave you. He never wants to be without you. But, tonight was a lot for him to handle, and it is overwhelming. He hasn't really felt this protective over someone. Of course, it's only natural since you're his girlfriend. He'll always protect you. It's just that Seonghwa brings something out of him that he doesn't necessarily like, and he wants it to be gone for good. It feels unhealthy and icky;
The anger, the frustration, the anxiety.
He hates it. And he doesn't want this to be a thing in your relationship. Plus, he still feels himself fuming with anger and he just can't possibly talk to you while he feels that way.
So yes, he's overwhelmed and he needs to get over this.
"No, seriously. You really should think about it. I know where I stand but I'm not so sure you do." He lets out another disappointed sigh. "I'll take you home, but we should probably just be in our own places tonight."
"Okay." You say close to a whisper, sniffling as you wipe away at your face. You don't even try to fight it anymore simply because you know Yunho needs his space right now. He begins to walk off with you slowly trailing behind, head hung low after everything that happened tonight. Everything happened so fast you're also having to process it all on this walk over to the lot. Suddenly, you're pulled out of your thoughts when you hear footsteps picking up behind you, followed by a familiar, deep voice.
"Yo, wait up!" Mingi says. "You good? I'm sorry about him, he's actually losing it."
"You're sorry? Mingi, when the fuck is your friend gonna grow up so that you're not apologizing on his behalf?" Mingi lets out a breath as his eyes dart from you, back to Yunho's. "Seriously. I don't mean to throw that your way, but it's not even just about tonight. Your friend knows no boundaries and that's crazy to me."
"I know, he's got things to sort through but that's his own problem now. I already told him multiple times. Me and San did." Mingi shakes his head.
"Doesn't take much to grow the fuck up and take ownership of your own fuck-ups once in awhile."
"Let him keep learning the hard way. He will, eventually. He deserved that tonight."
"He can try all he wants, nothing's gonna change between me and her. Hope he understands I'm not going anywhere after tonight."
"Of course." Is all Mingi could respond with because of course Yunho wouldn't go anywhere— why the fuck would he let Seonghwa get in the way? He shouldn't. And Seonghwa needs to know that. "Anyway, just wanted to see if you two were okay. For real." Yunho sighs.
"Mmyeah. Thanks." He responds as Mingi daps it up. "We're just gonna head home."
"Drive safely. Text me if you need me." Mingi gives you a small smile before running off to tend to his friends, San now also getting dragged into all his mess. 
The walk over is quiet, but Yunho still opens the passenger door for you when you finally get to his car. You hate the silence that falls between you two, but you understand Yunho is upset and needs his own time away from everything, from you, even. You can't help but cry even more into your hands when he pulls into the apartment lot, Yunho letting out a breath as he puts the car in park. He looks over at you and his heart breaks because he truly hates to see you cry, and he never wants to be the reason behind you being sad or hurt.
"Hey. Don't." He says softly, hands coming up to pry your own hands away from your face. He gently wipes the tears away, making sure no drop is missed. 
"I'm sorry, Yuyu." You repeat.
"I know, it's okay."  He says, even though right now, it's not.
"Is it?"
"Let's get you home, okay?" He just looks at you with a soft expression before unbuckling his seatbelt. He comes over to open your door, locking his car when you step out and slowly make your way to your apartment. When you get to the steps, you turn towards him with a small pout. Yunho pulls you into a hug and kisses the top of your head, wiping any remaining stragglers from staining your cheeks. He's not happy, but he's trying to send you off on a calm note— hoping this could at least ease you for the night. "Get some rest."
"I'll see you tomorrow, right?" He doesn't say anything before he pulls away and takes a few steps backwards. "Yunho." You call for him in that tone of yours that always makes him so weak.
"Y/N, please. I just need to shake this off. That's all. Goodnight." All you can do is simply walk away before running up the steps and into your apartment. Chaery is the only one home, cleaning her dishes after cooking a good meal for all of you to share.
"My love is home! I cooked!" She says happily, but her smile dies when she sees you set your bags down and cry into your hands. She drops everything and rushes over, throwing her arms around you while guiding you to the couch. "Hey, what's wrong? What happened?" She brushes the hair away from your face while you continue to cry. You don't respond for a bit, signaling for Chaery to just hold you and let you be.
You cry, and you cry.
Because you already miss Yunho, and you feel so dumb for overthinking the entire thing, for not being honest with him. It was a stupid mistake, but you hope Yunho knows you truly weren't out to hurt him. 
You hope he can forgive you and move past this— with you, together.
Because today and so on, he's all you want. You love Yunho, and there's no one else that completes you the way that he does.
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indecenthoney · 1 month
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The Edge Game
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You never really know the effects edging has until you actually do it. I know there is that dumb tradition that guys do where they don't nut in November. And believe me, I've done it and I have never felt suffering until that moment. I can be convinced pretty easily. I'm the type of person that'll follow along if you say, "If you do it, I'll do it.". Damn. If you offer me food, I would probably do it. Gets me thinking though if I ever were to make such a pact with a girl bestie.
That being said, I can get pretty competitive. I mean it's just whoever breaks first right? It shouldn't be that hard. Little did I know, it began a chaotic series of events that would test my mental strength. She really is a mischievous one. Longer hugs. Asking for cuddles. Rubbing up against me. Wearing that short little skirt I always liked. I fucking hate her. And I know damn well, she'll pull some other shit when she sleeps over for the night.
"Speak of the devil... Are you ready for movie night? And please for the love of god, don't do anything? I really just want to sit through this movie and get some sleep... Yeah yeah... I made sure to set up your futon... Hey! And again no funny business!"
Seemingly enough, it was a pretty normal movie night. A cuddle was requested, but nothing out of the ordinary. It was about time to go to sleep and thankfully enough I was able to go to bed without any trouble from her. I quickly dozed off. I'm pretty heavy sleeper. Although, I do have the tendency to wake up in the middle of the night to get some things done. Water. Piss. And then, something felt a little off. Something soft. Something wet. I could feel it on the tip of my fingers. A silhouette of my best friend hovering over my hand that was hanging off the bed. She was completely drenched probably from fingers gliding and curling and twitching against her slit.
"D-dude? What the fuck are you doing? Okay okay, this isn't fair... Okay, I did say that you weren't allowed to touch yourself but... using a loophole to get off? And using me? Out of all things? Are you crazy? Really? That's enough... I think we've dragged this competition for far too long... So why don't we end it? You're going to lay in my bed... and cock warm me the entire night... The first to give in or cum loses... Excuse me? I don't think you have a choice after using me in my sleep..."
Pulling her down into my bed and throwing the covers over her. Yanking my underwear down to reveal my twitching boner and pressing it against her opening. Slowly guiding it in and pulling down on her hips to get every inch into her.
"Now... Don't you dare... fucking... move... If you do... you lose... If I move... I lose... Got it?"
Shallow deep breaths hitting each other. My eyes begin to adjust to the darkness revealing her eyes. If I've ever seen those eyes before. Those would be "fuck me" eyes. My cock twitching like crazy against her. Her pussy squeezing against me. Neither of us giving in. My hands made their way to her face. Getting a good look at what my best friend has become. A slut only for me. Her hands grabbed mine; inviting my fingers into her mouth to suck on them. Clearly not breaking the rules. I can't take my eyes off of her.
"If you don't pull me out... right... now... I really will fuck you and get you pregnant... Please... I'm begging you... "
She already reached her limits. There wasn't a single thought behind those pretty eyes; all she wanted to do is be fucked by me. She didn't care anymore. She couldn't think let alone speak. All she could do was kiss me gently and look at me with those fucking eyes. Without hesitation, I grabbed and pinned her wrists down as I topped her. She wraps her legs around my waist. I knew the consequences, but god did I want to fuck her silly. I wanted this brat to know what fear was. What it really meant to be fucked. I kiss her one last time giving her the last taste of what it meant to be gentle before thrusting my hips in the most animalistic way possible. I don't even remember what happened that night. I woke up the next morning. The sight of her, worn out, leaking out my cum. I could hardly stand the sight without getting another boner. One more time wouldn't hurt, would it?
"Hey... Good morning... Shhh shhh... It's okay... Just let me use you, alright? I really need this... I really need you right now... I'll be as gentle as possible... I know I know sweetie... I know you're sensitive, but I need this right now... "
Barely awake, I fuck her gently pumping back her cum-filled holes. Appreciating every inch of her body. Seeing every scratch, bite, or bruise that I may have inflicted on her as I fucked her senseless. I could never imagine someone else doing this to them. It filled me with anger. Men are filthy. They are animals. And I'm no different.
But I learned something. I would never ever share her.
She's mine. All mine.
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Forever yours,
Honey
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thewidowsledger · 1 year
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Secrets Behind Our Dreams
Chapter 8: Unwelcome
© thewidowsledger 2023 - DO NOT REPUBLISH AND PLAGIARISE
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Summary: You are a club dancer; a stripper. Natasha is a respected notorious mob boss. What would happen if your paths happened to cross one night? The only thing you knew about each other was your dreams, and neither of you knew what the other was.
Pairing: Mob Boss Natasha Romanoff x Stripper Reader
Warnings: None (Warnings or none, minors do not interact; this is an 18+ series fiction)
You slowly opened your eyes, greeted by the sight of the ceiling. You can feel the softness of the mattress beneath you and the gentle embrace of the blankets. The comfort offered a temptation to succumb to sleep, to let yourself be lulled into its soothing embrace. You blinked a few times, trying to clear your hazy mind and make sense of your surroundings and a familiar scent evading your mind.
"Where am I?" You groggily asked yourself.
Your heart started hammering in your chest when you realized you're not in your own room. You gripped the sheets of the bed as you tried to get up, it was so soft you felt like you just wanted to stay and lay there for a while. However, your growing panic refused to allow you to drift off again. You looked at the clock hanging in the wall that says 10:03 A.M.
You couldn't shake the nagging feeling of being disoriented and disconnected from your surroundings. Every movement you do your panic grows more and more. You sat at the edge of the bed letting your feet touch the cold floor and started glancing around the unfamiliar room, you couldn't help but be captivated by its beauty. It was like stepping into a world you had only seen in movies or imagined in your dreams—a room that seemed to belong to a different world entirely.
Your eyes darted around the room, taking in every little detail. You noticed your boots lying haphazardly on the floor, your dress from the night before still clinging in your body thankfully.
The room was simple, the walls were painted in a soothing shade of pale gray, its neutral color provided a versatile backdrop for the various elements in the room, allowing them to stand out. Adjacent to the bed you were sitting in, a pair of modern nightstands stood, their surfaces adorned with simple yet stylish table lamps. Against one wall, a streamlined desk was positioned, accompanied by a comfortable chair. The desk boasted a minimalist design, with clean lines and ample workspace. And lastly a cozy couch placed near the oak door.
You haven't seen most of these things, you haven't even stepped into this kind of place.
"Jesus…is this heaven?" You muttered to yourself, trying not to stumble as you stood up.
You hazily walked towards the curtains, your mind still clouded with confusion and uncertainty. As you pulled back the heavy fabric, your eyes widened in horror and disbelief at the sight before you.
There, beyond the glass, stretched a magnificent view of the cityscape, bathed in the soft glow of morning sun. Tall buildings reached towards the sky. But it was the clouds that captured your attention. Wisps of white and shades of blue danced across the sky, creating an otherworldly landscape that seemed straight out of a dream. The beauty of it all was overwhelming.
"Fuck," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "So this is what heaven looks like."
The surreal combination of the breathtaking view and your own confusion led you to question the reality of your surroundings. This felt too perfect, it's too heavenly, to be anything but a figment of your imagination. You struggled to make sense of your situation, desperately searching for answers that seemed just out of reach.
"Wake up, Y/N, this isn't real. This isn't your place…god." You winced, palming your forehead.
You literally don't know your place now.
The room was lacking any personal touch or belongings that would provide clues about its owner. You scanned the room, searching for any familiar objects or hints that could jog your memory, but everything was foreign—the room remained silent, offering no answers.
As you hovered further in the room, you became more aware of the persistent ache in your body. You can feel something aching in your body but you couldn't figure out where and you have no time for that, right now you have to know where in hell—heaven rather you are. Every step you took seemed to magnify the discomfort, as if your muscles and bones were reminding you of a physical ordeal last night that you couldn't remember.
As you tried to recall the events, fragments of memories flashed in your mind—a blurry image of Natasha, the comfort of her touch, and then darkness.
"Natasha…"
Your heart pounded in your chest when you heard some commotion somewhere outside the room, your instinct for self-preservation kicking in. You began to frantically search for the knife you had secretly hidden in your boots. Your fingers trembled as you reached for the concealed weapon, gripping it tightly in your hand.
Taking a deep breath to steady yourself, you slowly walked towards the door and pushed it open, your eyes scanning the hallway beyond. You felt the cold tile beneath you walking barefoot but you didn't mind. Step by step, you venture into the corridor, your senses on high alert.
Your grip on the knife tightened when you heard someone whistling. With cautious steps, you made your way towards the source of the sound, your mind swirling with nothing but fear.
As you entered the kitchen, you were taken aback by the sudden appearance of a woman who seemed to materialize out of thin air. She was wearing a green coat dress. Her hair was braided, it was blond, her eyes were accentuated by bold black eyeliner, creating a striking and intimidating appearance.
"Hiiiii," the woman greeted with a child-like tone. "Did I wake you?" She asked, her tone more curious than accusatory. "I was just looking for the bowl, and it slipped out of its place." She was in the middle of making mac and cheese, it was a bit of a mess you think. Mac and cheese only have few ingredients but this woman seemed to be cooking a full dish with all the mess she has made.
You shook away your focus about her mess and brought your attention to her. As you observed her, you sensed a lack of immediate threat. Though still cautious, you remained vigilant, ready to react if the situation changed.
"So," the blond woman licked her thumb, "How was it fucking my wife?" she asked, glancing at you with nothing but a plain look. But her tone sounded more like a threat to you.
Situation changed.
Your breath caught in your throat, your mind racing to process the implications of what the woman had just said.
Is she talking about Natasha?
"W-What?" You gasped, you felt sick to the stomach.
She glared at you from the other side of the countertop of the kitchen, focused on your every movement which she knew made you uncomfortable.
"My wife, Natasha." She confirmed. "How was it? Fucking her?"
Natasha? Married?
It hit you like a punch to the gut. You stood there in stunned silence, placing your hand to your stomach. Unable to form a coherent response.
Taking a moment to gather your thoughts, you finally found your voice, your words stumbling out in a rush. "No, nothing happened between me and...N-Natasha," you managed to say, you even had a hard time saying Natasha's name, "Not that I can…I can remember."
Because you really don't know. What if something did happen? And right now you can't remember anything. You hated the thought that something might have happened between you and Natasha—and her being married. But at this point you're still wearing your dress from the other night so you considered it as a good sign that nothing…happened.
She just tilted her head at you with no expression showing in her face, she suddenly eyed the knife you're clutching to your stomach.
"You gon' kill me with that?" She asked before walking towards the cabinets.
Your eyes widened in surprise, you hadn't even realized that you had absentmindedly placed the knife in front of your stomach. The realization hit you like a jolt, and panic coursed through your veins.
"No, I was just…I'm sorry, I-uhh," frantically, you scrambled and managed to place the knife on the top of the table that borders the both of you. Breathing heavily, you returned to your previous position, your face flushed with embarrassment and panic.
But suddenly the awkwardness and the tension of the atmosphere was replaced with a wicked laugh escaping the woman's lips, echoing through the kitchen and sending chills down your spine.
"You should really see yourself right now," she managed to say between giggles as she pointed the bottle of hot sauce she retrieved from the cabinet towards you. She continued to laugh, though she tried to stifle it, unsuccessfully snorting every now and then. You just frowned at her, now you're really confused and embarrassed, you just wanted to run through the glass window with nothing but clouds behind it in her back not minding how many floors this penthouse is.
As her laughter subsided, she wiped away a tear of mirth from her eye. She smirked at you, her eyes still twinkling with mischief.
"I'm Yelena, Natasha's sister."
Your eyes remained fixed on her as you watched her grab a single fork from a nearby drawer before proceeding to eat her mac and cheese straight from the pan.
You couldn't quite comprehend the whirlwind of events that had unfolded since waking up in this place. With your encounter with this woman, revealing that she was Natasha's wife, accusing you of fucking her wife, then revealing that she was just Natasha's sister, and her poking fun at your panic. Caught up in your thoughts and still processing the whole situation, you remained frozen in place.
Yelena's gaze shifted from her pan of mac and cheese to your face, and she observed your stunned look. You were absentmindedly looking at the box of mac and cheese, "Oh, where are my manners?" she said, "Do you want some?" she pointed her fork down to the pan of mac and cheese.
Caught off guard by the unexpected offer, your awkwardness got the better of you as you stammered, but really your stomach is getting mad now, "No, I uhh, no than—"
"Suit yourself," Yelena shrugged, seemingly unfazed by your response. She continued to eat her mac and cheese.
Unbeknownst to you, Yelena had kept a portion of the mac and cheese aside, knowing that you might change your mind. She placed the plate on the countertop, within your line of sight, and continued her meal, subtly keeping an eye on your reactions.
You, on the other hand, are still lost in your own thoughts and still trying to make sense of everything. It seems like everything is a puzzle, you have the pieces but couldn't piece them together.
She circled from the countertop table, the pan handle hitting the box of mac and cheese sending it down to the ground together with the bowl.
You flinched at the sound it made, "Do you want me to…" you immediately asked, pointing to the mess on the ground. But Yelena just stared at you, still eating her mac and cheese. She walked past you not minding the mess she created.
You were left alone in the kitchen feeling embarrassed but without any hesitation you crouched down and began picking up the scattered contents of the mac and cheese.
Yelena was not so far behind you, she studied you intently. Her eyes trailed from your bare feet, your short black dress, half of your hair covering up your face as you knelt down cleaning up her mess. Her gaze seemed to penetrate your soul, searching for any hint of deception or ulterior motives. But she couldn't see any and she hated it.
As you finished cleaning up, you tried to look for Yelena like a lost puppy. When suddenly your eyes dropped at the sight of the plate of a mac and cheese and a fork placed beside. You tried to look away but your growling stomach made you wince, you also tried not to think that she kept this food only for you. You couldn't fight your pride and hunger anymore so you glanced around before eating the food like someone would take it in a second.
Unbeknownst to you, Yelena never took her eyes away from you; she watched you scramble the food from the distance, a grin playing at the corners of her lips. She watched you take your third bite before continuing her way to the living room.
When you finished eating, you washed your plate with the couple of dishes that were left in the sink. After that you decided to look for Yelena.
She was positioned in the big couch of the living room. When she felt your presence behind, she looked at you over her shoulders. Her gaze softened as she watched you scan the whole place with amusement in your eyes—also in bare feet, you seemed like a kid that was brought in the park for being a good girl or having a perfect star during your school exams. She slightly smirked at the sight of you before taking a bite of her mac and cheese.
"A biggo birdie told me that some woman is sleeping in my sister's penthouse," Yelena's voice cut through your wandering gaze, "Which is very unusual because she never had girls in her private property. Like, ever. That's why I came here to check myself, so…" she placed the pan and fork down at the table, "Who are you?"
Your heart skipped a beat with Yelena's question, causing a wave of panic over you. It's just a simple question but suddenly you don't know what or how to answer. "I…uhh, I'm Y/N," you said as you started fidgeting with your fingers, you slid your hair over your left shoulder as you stand near the side of the couch she's sitting on.
"What do you do, Y/N?" She asked.
"I…" you gulped, "I work in the…I work at Valkyrie's." You didn't directly say that you work in a club, instead you said the name of the club you work in hoping she doesn't know the place. But the club is very famous not just in the whole city, different personalities across the world go and sometimes rent the place. So you doubt that she doesn't know the place but still you tried.
"Oh," she gasped almost mockingly and crossed her legs, "Haven't tried any girls from there."
Okay, she does know the place.
"W-what? No, I'm no—"
"How was it fucking my sister?" She didn't let you finish, her lips curled into a cynical smile.
"N-Nothing happened between me and N-Na—you're sister!"
"What do you want?"
"What?"
"Money? If my sister hasn't given you anything then I'll cover it up for her, name what you need," she spat, she finally looked at you and scanned you from head to toe, "Whore."
Yelena had seen how genuine you are since she saw you. She couldn't deny that there was something captivating about your authenticity. She had seen you in moments of panic, confusion, and even embarrassment, and yet, you remained genuine with your actions. She even finds you adorable.
But now she's trying to get to you for you to really show who you are. She's trying to break you.
Tears started swelling in your eyes. You hated how you reacted at what she said, you hated how her words got to you. You hated how vulnerable she made you be.
You wiped the tears that started rushing in your cheeks, "I'm so sorry, I should've left earlier…" you tried to blink away the tears but you couldn't, so you turned to look away from her facing the ground. "But I'll leave now. I don't remember what happened but please thank Natasha for me…and I don't need money from N-Natasha or from you, I don't need it. I'm not what you think I am. I'm sorry if I-I uhh caused you any trouble."
Yelena paid no mind as you walked away but suddenly she caught something behind you that made her eyes widened in alarm. Her eyes flashed with fear. "Wait!"
You ignored her, your eyes were blurry as you tried to find the room you woke up in.
While she was walking she spotted the powder room, she took a quick glance inside and she hesitantly grabbed a silk robe hanging inside which she thinks still hasn't washed and is Natasha's. After that she quickly raced to follow you.
"Zdravstvuyte, eto Natasha. YA ne zhaleyu, chto propustil tvoy zvonok."
"Zdravstvuyte, eto Natasha. YA ne zhaleyu, chto propustil tvoy zvonok."
"Zdravstvuyte, eto Natasha. YA ne zhaleyu, chto propustil tvoy zvonok."
(Hello, this is Natasha. I'm not sorry I missed your call.)
"Fuck your voicemail sucks, Natasha." Yelena groaned while muttering to herself.
When she saw you nearing the room she tried calling you again, "Wait! Please, Y/N!" She is now running towards you.
You ignored her pleas, after how she treated you earlier? After she called you a whore now she's addressing you by your name?
You were about to close the room but in a blink of an eye Yelena stepped her foot stopping the door from being closed. She was breathing hard as she placed her phone inside her suit.
She was taken aback, her guilt consuming her when she met your eyes swimming in tears.
"I…I'm sorry, Y/N," you hated how her apology sounded genuine. You tried to shut the door but she fought it open, "Look, I'm sorry okay? What…what about we wait for Natasha? Before you leave? How about that? Is that okay? Please tell me it's okay, please?" Yelena's voice cracked, desperation evident in her tone. "Just stay right here, in this room while we wait for her."
After a moment of silence, you slowly released your grip on the door and nodded. Yelena's eyes softened with relief, she smiled at you before opening your door completely, "Here," she was about to place the robe over your shoulder but you took a step back so she just gently handed it to you.
"I'm sorry again, Y/N," your guard remained up, you just nodded, not daring to look at her.
"If you need something, you ca—" you cut her off by slowly shutting the door, she tries to peek over as you close it.
She sighed walking with heavy strides towards the hall of the penthouse while rummaging through her suit to find her phone, when she found it she once again dialed Natasha for the fourth time.
"Otvet' na chertov telefon, sestra." (Answer the damn phone, sister.)
The tension in the penthouse was palpable as Natasha, with an unmistakable air of anger, barged into her own private place.
"You can't just go in here, Yelena." Natasha shook her head, chuckling with anger as she walked past her.
"We need to talk, Natasha." Yelena followed her.
Natasha removed her leather jacket, her fury unyielding. She gripped it before tossing it to the couch, she faced Yelena who was sensing her anger.
"I know I came here unwelcome, but we need to ta—"
Natasha's eyes burned with rage, she gripped Yelena's suit and pressed her towards a nearby wall. "What are you doing here?!"
Yelena could read the question Natasha spat to her, she doesn't want to know what she is doing here, what she wants to know is if she did anything to you while she was gone. "I didn't do anything to her Natasha, calm down." Yelena was doing well keeping herself composed. But at the same time she couldn't keep the guilt away from how she treated you earlier.
"I don't want to hear shit about anything yo—"
Natasha's words cut through the air when she saw you peeking at the slightly open door. Her expression abruptly shifted. Her features softened, and a disarming smile formed on her face as she turned her gaze towards you.
As if a switch had been flipped, Natasha released Yelena's suit and stepped back, her anger dissipating into thin air. You timidly returned the smile.
"Hey…" she called with a warm smile, she was about to approach you as if nothing had transpired between her and her sister just moments ago however, Yelena reached out and firmly grabbed Natasha's arm, stopping her in her tracks.
"Please, Natasha…we need to talk."
Natasha never took her eyes away from you. She wanted to ensure that you didn't notice the heated tension between her and her sister. She gave you a warm smile once again before turning at her sister.
"Pyat' minut, i ya khochu, chtoby ty ushel," (Five minutes and I want you gone.) she hissed, shoving her sister's hold on her not enough for you to notice before walking away.
Natasha headed towards the balcony of the penthouse, hoping that the air would somehow calm her down, though seeing you brought some solace to her but right now you're not there to soothe her, "4 minutes."
"What? We haven't even started talking yet?!" Yelena exclaimed, as she slid the door close.
"Oh I started counting walking on the way here and we're conversing now. 4 minutes and 17." Natasha simply said, not caring about how her sister grumbled.
Yelena groaned internally and took a breath before started talking again. "Who is that woman and why is she here, Natasha?" It was a genuine question really, you're the reason why she's here, why she risked coming in here unwelcome.
"Why do you care?" She spoke through gritted teeth, her voice laced with a controlled fury. She glanced towards the clock in her wrist, "3 minutes and 50."
"And you care about her?" Yelena retorted, not caring about how her sister reminded her of her fleeting time. Natasha just huffed her hands crossed at the railings of the terrace. "I'm going to ask this one time, do you care for her? Do you care for that woman?" Yelena asked once again, taking a step behind her sister. Her voice was firm and trying to be calm.
"We're not having this conversation, Lena." Natasha let out a chuckle, a mix of anger and frustration still not facing her sister. She was impatiently tapping her leather boot. "You still have 3 minutes an—"
"Do you care about her?! Because if not we can just throw her off your place so whoever marked her could fucking get her!"
Natasha froze in her place. She wasn't stunned by Yelena's sudden outburst, she was stunned by what she just said.
"What did you say?" her tone demanded straight answers, but clearly she understood what her sister just said. She furrowed her brows, slowly tilting her head to finally face her sister.
Yelena met Natasha's gaze, not breaking her eyes on her. "You heard me, Natasha."
As they both stood there, facing each other in the aftermath of their clash, Natasha saw you peeking through the wall. You shyly waved at her and the gesture made Natasha's heart ache. Yelena slowly turned her gaze over her shoulders and saw the interaction, she now walked past Natasha placing her elbows at the glassed-bars of the terrace.
"Congrats, Sestra. You just signed that woman a death warrant."
Secrets Behind Our Dreams: Masterlist
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mxtantrights · 1 year
Text
The Official Sequel
it's been a hell of a ride. I didn't think this story would get seen that much but I am so happy that it did and that everyone really likes it. As always my inbox is open about this series and wherever you all want to take it!
Turning 22 was a big deal, but turning 22 while on set for a heavily anticipated sequel to a blockbuster smash? It's a whole other thing. If you thought you got birthday wishes before, now is nothing compared to that.
When you woke up you had almost the same amount of notifications as when the news dropped you were cast in the movie. This time around you had a bit more because of how many fans and followers you accumulated. And that's not all.
As soon as you step on set you are given box after box, all different colors and different wrappings. A green box from the writing team, a heavy black box from the production team, and a tiny mint green box from hair and makeup. None of which you can't open right now because you have to get to your trailer and get back to hair and makeup. You plan to open the boxes on break.
When you get to your trailer it's crowded with more stuff. More boxes, some bigger than the rest and bouquets of flowers of all sorts of arrangements. You trailer was decorated with praise and love and if you stopped to think about it long enough you might cry.
And of course there is the big one. The big present.
Tucked into the back of your trailer and oddly shaped is something big. It has a bright red bow wrapped around it. You don't know who sent it or how they could have gotten something like that into your trailer unnoticed. But it's there, by the sight of your eyes it's there.
You want so badly to open it. But you can't! Priorities!
When you're heading out your trailer to hair and makeup you point at the oddly suspicious lump in the corner of your trailer.
"I'm coming back for you!" you yell.
Then you slam your door and march to your destination.
You make quick work of getting to hair and makeup. Delores wasn't on set yet. She would be joining midway since she's already signed onto another project months ago. But that was okay, you still kept in contact with her.
With a few quick hellos to the makeup team, you sit down in your designated chair. Even though today's filming was just montage clips you still had to look the part.
Thankfully your makeup won't have to change at all for these scenes. You know the team is also thankful they don't have to pull double work today.
"Hey happy birthday," one of the assistants greets.
You smile, "Thank you. And thanks for the group gift!"
A black cape is draped over you. It's go time. Set in front of you are a bunch of makeup brushes and products.
"Is there a birthday person in here?" a voice asks.
You turn your head slightly, and there he is. In all of his glory is Jason Todd. He looks as good as ever but you are not about to offer that up to him. No his head will enlarge by the second.
God he looks kissable. You're not supposed to say that. Not after you had each other's tongues touching that night in your home. But more so because you most definitely have a thing for him that is undeniable now.
You need to say something normal. Normal. You can do that.
"I don't know." you throw out.
You want to smack yourself upside the head for that answer. What kind of answer is that? It's not an answer.
Jason laughs and makes his way over to you. In your head time slows down like it does in all those romcoms. Then you remember that you're staring in a romcom with him as your costar and certain things can be considered acting while other things cannot.
Watching him walk to you like this, is one of those things. You turn back forward, which prompts your makeup artist to start again.
From behind you hear him.
"Too late I was told there was. I did get you something by the way, left it in your trailer." he speaks.
Your mind instantly goes to the big mysterious package. With the bow. The red bow. Was that him? Did he get that for you- whatever that was?
Get a grip! You need to get a grip and fast or this whole thing would come crashing down around you.
"I'll let you know." you answer.
You watch him in the mirror. He looks as if he's about to say something else. But then he doesn't. He just smiles and warmly rubs your shoulder. It sends you into silent overdrive in the chair. You try your best to appear stoic and calm.
"Jason you need to be in here in about fifteen minutes." one of the makeup assistants says.
"Of course, I won't be late. I promise." he turns to speak to them.
Then he catches your gaze in the mirror. With a small smirk he leans down, hand still on your shoulder, his breath hitting your ear.
"See ya on set hun. Happy birthday, again." he whispers.
You smile back at him. Then he's off. Like he didn't just throw you off kilter with the smirk and the touching and the everything about him. Yeah you're gonna need to go over your lines again before you get on set because all of them just flew out of your mind.
Romcoms are supposed to be easy.
For your lunch break you decide enough is enough and you run into your trailer to finally open that huge present. From the moment you open the door you feel the anticipation set in. You actually run over to the gift and are about to start tearing it to shreds. But first you calm yourself down. You need to know who sent it first. You need to know who to thank.
Your eyes flutter around the gift for a card or a name tag. But as the seconds pass you don’t find one. It couldn’t have been just anyone, not a lot of people have access to your trailer in this way. And the not knowing is becoming more important than getting your hands on the actual gift.
As you step back to try and think for yourself you catch a whiff of a smell. A very distinct smell. One you know very well. One that stayed on your jacket after a night out with a certain co-star names Jason Todd. You two had huddle together in a corner for thirty minutes tops and you went home that night smelling like him.
You take a step forward to the gift and the smell is there again. It was him, it was Jason. 
Now you can finally tear into the wrapping. Your hands and fingers work quickly. Tearing and ripping then throwing wads of paper over your shoulder. Once you begin to finally see what’s underneath you are taken back.
You realize the gift was so lumpy due to the bubble wrap. Once you push it down a bit you cn see what was in need of protecting. A framed poster almost the size of you. It’s the poster to Love in Pieces, but not the one that was released to the public. No there were many posters made and ultimately Dent went with what was right. That didn’t mean it was your favorite. 
Your favorite poster was a picture of you and Jason. It’s a frame from the movie that Dent originally thought could make one of the final posters. You and Jason were helping the design crew out between takes and putting together the bed for that specific scene. 
In the picture you’re laughing, faced a bit away from the camera, with two pillows in your hands. Then there’s Jason on the bed, trying his best to get the corner tucked, which proved impossible because the mattress was too big for the sheet. Didn’t mean he stopped trying though which probed to be a comedy in it’s own right.
You push the bubble wrap all the way down to the bottom and see a card sticking out the corner of the frame. Kneeling down you pick up the card and read it out loud.
“To the best co-star I’ve had,
Here’s to making a great rom-com and to making another one. Happy birthday I hope you get everything you wish for and more.
Warmly,
Your super-hot and super-talented co-star Jason Todd xx”
You hold the card to your chest with a smile on your face. Yeah there was no hope for you. Jason Todd has infected every single vein in your body. 
"LOVE IN PEICES" SEQUEL STARTS FILMING! SEE ON-SET PICS!!
FIRST DAY OF FILMING FOR "LOVE IN PIECES" SEQUEL!
WILL THE COSTARS OF "LOVE IN PIECES" PIECE THEIR FLING BACK TOGETHER?
-
You manager hangs up the phone first. All you can do is stare down at the now black screen. In your head a million scenarios were playing out. The one where you totally tank a project and have to flee Hollywood is always playing on a loop in the background. But alongside it now are a few new ones. One in particular strikes you.
A magazine spread gone wrong. You might come off as privileged and snotty. When that couldn't be farther from the truth- you were working a minimum wage job before this and thinking about going back to school to get a career jump.
Because when you were younger it fell on you a bit to take care of the family and you missed out on normal teenager stuff like prom and dating and stupid school gossip and other stuff.
So to miss out on all of that to end up here and come off as a pinky raised snobby actor would be horrible. Well, your manager could turn it around in a matter of weeks or so. But still the feeling of being made out to be someone you're not, sucks.
"Hey I was thinking drinks at this place a couple of blocks up, I know the owner so we can get a private booth and every-" Jason's voice floods your trailer.
He stops when he sees you. But you try your best to put on a smile. You don't want to cancel your plans with him. Sometimes you felt like he was the best part of being in this business.
"What's wrong sweetheart?" he asks you.
And that's when you feel like absolute trash. This man-jason Todd- is always catching you at these moments. These moments of incredible doubt and weakness where you wanna quit and go back to making minimum wage. He sees them and he helps you, but you have never helped him. This friendship feels one-sided with you being the take and him being the giver.
"Why are you friends with me?" you ask weakly.
Jason, you see him as clear as you can with tears forming in your eyes, come over to your side in an instant. It makes you feel even worse. You feel his hand on your shoulder.
"I can't help you if you don't tell me what's going on sweetheart." he says.
You shake your head slowly, "I'm just being emotional."
"That's okay. We can do emotional. Emotional is good." He answers.
You can't help the small chuckle that tumbles out of your mouth. Jason smiles at the noise. It was just like him to pull you out of a mood.
"I hope you know you can call me." you speak
When you look over at him he looks perplexed. The off-guard look he sends you prompts you to use more words to tell him what exactly you're talking about.
"When you have your bad days, like I do. I always call you, I want you to know you can call me." you explain.
Jason nods his head, "Okay but now we're talking about you. What's going on?"
You sniffle and shrug your shoulders.
"I'm worried that my interview with this magazine might make me come off as some newly minted diva in Hollywood." you confess.
It takes a weight off your shoulder. Not a lot but a considerable amount. You can tell. You haven't solved the problem but you know that Jason knowing means you aren't alone in trying to solve it. Or at least holding the burden of it.
"Was is something you said?" he asks.
"More like something I didn't. And things I forgot." you answer.
"Which magazine is it?" he asks again.
You snicker to yourself, "What are you gonna get your dad to buy the magazine?"
He laughs. It fills your entire trailer. You want to capture the sound in a jar and keep it for days like these when things get bad and you need a pocket of joy to bring you back.
"No but maybe you can ask the writer to make it two-parter. Let the first part come out so you can see what you missed and follow up in the second part." Jason explains effortlessly.
It was like drinking water for him. It came so easy. How he was able to come up with a solution to these kinds of problems really stunned you into silence sometimes.
"How-you just came up with that?" you ask him.
Jason shrugs now, "I've been in this business for a while now. You have to know when to stretch yourself and when to rest."
"Smart. Your'e very smart Jason." you comment.
He gets up from your side and holds out his hand. In this context it's just a friend holding out his hand so you might join him on plans you two have already made.
But in this context its you and Jason. You and Jason who used to bicker back and forth but now it's like talking with an old friend. You and Jason who had a leaked video come out. You and Jason who kissed in your home.
You take his hand. He's warm. He's always warm.
"Private booth?" you ask.
Jason grips your hand. He pulls you up. Now you stand chest to chest with him. Like you were in your home those nights ago with your tongue down his throat. You have got to get a grip!
"Very private. Place even has a back door." he adds.
You want to laugh again at his joke but you settle for a smile.
"Okay, let's have drinks Jason." you say.
TITLE OF "LOVE IN PIECES" SEQUEL REVEALED! CLICK FOR MORE!
ACCLAIMED ROMANCE WRITERS HARLEEN QUINZEL AND PAMELA ISELY HAVE BEEN TAPPED TO PEN THE ENDING OF "LOVE IN PEICES" SEQUEL!
THE GOTHAM GANG: DENT, QUIN, AND ISLEY BACK TOGETHER FOR SEQUEL MOVIE!
-
Having to perform in front of Harvey Dent was one thing. Having to wake up at seven in the morning and stand in front of Dent and Harley Quinn and Pamela Isley to read what they have written for the ending is a whole other ball game.
There's not a lot you can do to prepare for something like this. Breath mints are a definite yes. And clothes that don't scream over achiever but also don't scream lazy actor, another yes.
You check yourself with your phone camera again. For sure you have given your driver, Mike, a real stress test with how you still won't leave the car even after arriving fifteen minutes early.
You shut your phone off. "Alright."
"Alright?" Mike throws back at you.
You chuckle, "I got it Mike. I'm going I know, I know."
"You'll do great. And then I can drive you other places. Since it's my job to, you know, put the car in drive." he jokes.
You open the door and step outside. A bit far away you can hear a faint motor getting louder and louder. You peek your head in to dress Mike.
"I'm pretty sure I pay for the whole PRNDL but sure Mike." you joke back.
You close the door and walk around the car to the door of the building. It was best to keep things such as physical materials on set so the chances of a leak were low. If it weren't for leaks Dent would have sent you the ending to read at home.
But technology was fickle now a days.
And it wasn't only his work on the line now. It was also Harley's and Pamela's.
The roaring engine gets louder until you realize that you spaced out for a bit longer than you meant to. Pulling up in front of you is the motorcyclist. The bike comes to a stop right in front of you.
You want to bark at the audacity this person has. Your feet are mere inches away from the wheels of this bike! But you bit your tongue and wait for them to get off their bike.
When they take their black helmet off it all makes sense.
"Jason?!" You shout.
He leans back a bit at your volume.
"Sorry sweetheart didn't want to be late." he answers.
As if that an answer. As if him showing up on a bike on set is somehow normal behavior. It's not. The closest thing Jason drove in, by himself, was a vintage low top car wrapped in matte black paint. A gift from his dad.
A motorcycle?
"Since when do you ride two wheels instead of four?" you ask.
He puts his helmet away in the seat compartment of the motorcycle. With a smile he makes his way over to you. Or he's already close to you but he comes closer. He has a way of always getting closer to you.
"Since I'm doing a top secret project I needed the practice." he explains.
But not really. It's been like this for a while now. He's on set for the sequel but he's also on set for something else. Something he can't tell you about but something that doesn't cut into the movie schedule. Like at all. He's always on time and he's never the first to leave set.
"How's that working out for you? Working on projects simultaneously?" you ask him.
He shrugs his shoulders, "I get to come to work and see you so it's not that bad-"
"Oh! Jason that was horrible!" you screech with a laugh.
"I'm trying to prepare for our final scene!" he says.
"You don't even know what it is yet." you add.
"True but we're on set for a rom-com what else could it be?" he asks rhetorically.
You nod you head in agreement. Then he offers you his arm, straight out of those period piece love stories. You take his offer and wrap your arm around his.
"Let us get to work my kind sir." you put on a horrible accent.
Jason almost loses it at that but keeps it together, "Thank you my liege,"
The two of you walk arm in arm through the door and down a couple of hallways all the way to the writer's room. The vibe is amazing right off the bat.
You walk through the door and Dent is only on his first cup of coffee. On his right is Pamela who is scrolling through her phone with a big smile on her face. To his right is Harley who is scribbling on post-it notes in pink pen.
When the three of them see you they greet you all. Harley gets up herself to give each of you a hug. Since it's her first time meeting you it doesn't last longer than it Jason's does- she's known him since he was a preteen. She actually based on of her characters in a future book off of him.
Pamela urges you and Jason to sit first. Jason grabs two chairs and sets them down for the both of you. Theres two copies of the ending they wrote on the table in front of you. It's upside down so you can't read it yet.
"Newbie here thinks this is do or die." Jason points to you.
Then he takes his seat. As if he didn't just snitch on you to the most three important people in your career.
You scoff, "Dude!"
You take your seat and hit him across the shoulder. It does nothing to him seeing as you were soft with it and Jason's shoulder is built like a boulder. Yeah he works out really well-get a grip!
"What? I've known all three of them practically my whole life. I couldn't be more chilled out." he says.
"Would you say that if I invited Bruce?" Dent asks.
Jason sits up in his chair straighter, "Let's get the ball rolling here..."
He reaches for the paper in front of him but Harley swats his hand down. He lets out an ouch that is hardly appropriate for the love tap Harley gave him.
"Harls?" Jason asks.
"First we need to establish the vibe!" she speaks excitedly.
”Where do you see your arcs going?” Pamela asks.
Okay you didn’t want to be a nerd but you planned this out. Like you have a journal where you write out things that sound like your character and you have a pintrest board for things your character would like. You’ve become invested in this film more than you’ve let on. 
“I think at the end love is less of a state of mind and more of a state of being.” You answer.
The silence that follows is concerning. You look at Jason first who looks shocked that you said that. Then you look at Pamela who had asked the question and she has the biggest smile on her face. Harley and Dent are hitting each other lightly on the shoulder over and over.
“Did I screw that up?” You ask.
“No no no, that is so good. This is the best vibe you can get!” Harley says.
You let out a sigh or relief, looking over at Jason again. He seems nervous. He clears his throat and sits up straighter in his chair. You don’t know why he’s nervous.
“I think that uh I’ll follow wherever you lead.” He says.
Now you get it. Your eyes widen. Did that just come out of him like nothing? Must be all the books he reads. And the fact you two are working on a romcom. It doesn’t stop you from being shocked. 
“Jay that was so well said!” Harley squeals.
Jason huffs, “I read the script sometimes.” 
“We know, but it’s good to see that you two are on the same page as us.” Dent answers.
Pamela slides over the scripts for both of you. Jason spares you a look you don’t catch as you reach for yours first.
CO-STAR FOR "LOVE ON THE MEND" SITS DOWN WITH IRIS WEST-ALLEN FOR 60 SECONDS. WATCH A CLIP NOW!
PART ONE OF SPECIAL INTERVIEW FOR VANITY FAIR WITH CO-STAR OF "LOVE ON THE MEND"!
LEAKED SET PICS SHOW THE ROM-COM HAS TURNED TO ANOTHER GENERE? CLICK PICS FOR MORE!
-
The room is large. It’s got brick walls and a huge window letting in natural light on the ceiling. The only problem is there is one chair and it’s in the corner. Standing in a room next to Jason being judged isn’t what you had on the agenda. But if this is what it takes, so be it. 
She is the best of the best. I mean you knew that she worked with pros and such. So much so that she’s the pro of her own field. But you didn’t quite understand how Dent got her to come in and help you and Jason.
Selina Kyle is the best intimacy coordinator in the business but she’s looking at the two of you like there is something wrong. It makes you feel like you did something wrong? Could she tell hat your feelings for him were not always platonic? Does she think the rumors are true and you and him are hooking up?
You unfurl your arms from around your chest and placate them at your side. When it came to being looked over like a piece of meat you didn’t know what to do with yourself. You never really knew what to do when people looked at you for too long but it got worse being known.
“Can you two tell me what you know about shooting an intimate scene for film?” she asks.
You, of course, know nothing. This is your second film compared to Jasons’s seventh. You haven’t seen all the things he’s been in but you doubt he knows less than you in this department.
“We rehearse the movements ahead of time so there is no confusion or disagreements. And we talk through everything at length to make sure everyone is on the same page.” Jason says.
That sounded good to you. 
Selina clears her throat, “You two are going to have an intimate scene that ‘fades to black’ as the people say. I want to know now if you are both comfortable doing said scene.” 
You nod, “Yes.”
“Yup.” Jason says.
“Good, and know that you can retract that at any given moment. I will ask every day.” Selina adds.
She rounds the two of you like prey. You would be scared if you weren’t a bit turned on. It was Selina Kyle but you would keep that to yourself. No need to be rude, creepy and unprofessional. You stand still as she makes one lap around the both of you, then a second.
“Selina you’re being a menace.” Jason says.
She laughs, then stands in front of you. With a smile she holds out her hand. You take it without hesitation.
“Your co-star is a sweetheart, Jason. I’m trying to ease her into this.” She answers.
“Well it’s not like we’re shooting something raunchy.” Jason comments.
“True but I like to know who I’m working with. I already know about you, I wanna know about your other half.” she puts easily.
Other half? You look to Jason who just shakes his head. The word choice confuses you for a bit before you decide to let it go. 
“The agenda for today is chemistry without touching.” Selina announces.
Both of you watch as she walks over to the corner of the room. She sits on the chair with a notepad and a pen. You don’t know what to do with yourself. 
“She’s just gonna take notes and see if we got sparks or not.” Jason whispers.
“I mean we got a second movie filming don’t we?” you joke.
Jason laughs, “True. But Selina can sense if the sparks are real and professional and camera ready.” 
That made you nervous. Professional? How were you supposed to be professional when Jason comes in with shirts that are just a size too tight? There was also the time he called you baby, you haven’t forgotten that. And you can’t forget when you and him kissed at your house. All of those things make it so damn hard to be professional around him but you think you’ve been doing a good job so far.
You think.
“Hey don’t space out on me. It’s just Selina.” He whispers again.
“Do you know her personally or something?” You ask.
“Yeah, you could say that…” he trails off.
The way he does it leaves you with more questions. Selina was bit older than both of you but if you were given the chance to even kiss her hand you would take it. And it’s not like Jason hasn’t been the subject of multiple tabloid pieces concerning hookups and such. 
“Are you saying you and she…” you trail off this time.
“What?! No! She and my dad have.” He quickly answers. 
Bruce Wayne and Selina Kyle. Wow. You don’t think you’ve ever heard a rumor about them but that just serves both of them well. Bruce is very secretive anyways he doesn’t let anyone know until he’s ready for the to know. And Selina, she’s as elusive as a cat.
They makes sense.
You and Jason carry on talking like you usually do. And you didn’t notice until now how touchy you two are. Besides the whole leaked video thing, you thought that was a one-off. But you find yourself leaning in whenever he reaches out to touch you. Your body just reacts before you can think to not follow where he leads.
The two of you carry on though. Like you’re in your own little world. Selina watches in pure amazement and wonder. She knew the two of you had chemistry when she saw the first movie. She has eyes! 
But seeing Jason like this was different. She has known him since he was a little boy. And for the years she’s known him he’s never seen him look at someone like he does you. Its like the two of you are in your own little romcom. 
And with that she’s seen all she’s needed. Only one note written on her pad.
Circled three times in the red ink from her pen are four words 'dent needs a trilogy’ 
BEHIND THE SCENES OF “LOVE ON THE MEND” WITH CO-STARS! RAIN KISS SCENE?
NEW MUSIC NEWS: STEPHANIE BROWN RELEASING NEW SINGLE FOR “LOVE ON THE MEND” FILM
NEW STUDIO MOVES? FIND OUT THE KEY PLAYERS IN THE NEW MERGER/BUY OUT!
-
You’re walking over to Jason’s trailer. Doing so in a fuzzy white robe might be highly suspect but you had no time to change into something decent. Underneath was just your costume for the day so it wasn't like you were naked!
Right now you’re in between takes and he’s about to leave set for the day, he’s finishing up his second project across the lot. Delores had showed you the thing first. And before she could send it to Jason you told her that you can run over and show it to him.
In hindsight that was a bold thing to say but you weren't think about hindsight you were thinking about Jason.
As you round the corner to his trailer you pick up the pace. So much so that when you get to his door and pull it open you’re a bit out of breath. But you trek on. With your phone in hand you type in your passcode and open up twitter. 
“Jay did you see this edit we’re tagged in? It’s so cool-“ you start.
When you look up you don’t find Jason. No, you find another Wayne family member.
“Hi there.” Tim says.
You wave, “Hi. I was looking for Jason.” 
Tim smiles.
“Funny enough he went looking for you.” he says.
You let out an awkward laugh at his admission. Now you’re starting to think about what Dent said the other day. How one of you are never without the other for too long. Of course Dent could see it he was your director. But Jason’s brother too?
“You’re Tim, the brother who helped with the leaked video,” you walk up to him and hold out your hand, “It’s nice to meet you in person.”
He takes your hand.
“Nice to finally meet you.” he responds.
What did that mean? Finally?
Tim must catch the look on your face because he lets go of your hand and gets up from his seat on the couch. 
“Not in a bad way, in a normal Jason talks about you way.” he explains. 
You nod your head even though that’s a bit worse. You wonder what Jason tells his brother about you. If it was all good things or if he maybe secretly hated you. He’s an actor, he can act professional and friendly around you and be a completely other way when he’s around people he trusts.
You’re spiraling. 
“Thank you again for the video.” you say.
“No problem. I really liked your interview with Vanity Fair.” 
You smile and thank him. And then the silence hits. It’s not too awkward but you can tell he wants to say something to you. For yourself, you know you want to ask him what Jason’s said about you. But you needed to be professional. Jason has his own life outside of you, he’s owed that.
“Okay I’m just gonna ask, Kon would smite me if I didn’t, is there something going on between the two of you?” 
It hits you like a ton of bricks. You were not being low-key at all. Sure you and Jason kept it professional on set. When the cameras were on you two played characters in love and when they turned off you were just two co-stars. But it’s when the two of you are alone when your mind gets fuzzy. You feel like s school child with a crush. No, that’s wrong. It’s more than that. Because while Jason is hot in almost anything he wears and he knows how to charm the pants off anyone, you like when it’s the two of you just goofing around. You like the idea of doing nothing with him. 
You clear your throat, “I um.. that’s really-I mean I can’t really…” 
“It’s totally okay if you refuse to answer. I get it. I’ve just never seen the guy ask for advice so often-I mean he even asked me what arrangement of flowers is best.”
Flowers?
You don’t mean to but you tilt your head to the side in contemplation. There it was again. Delores told you that he got those flowers for someone besides her. Jason didn’t tell you who specifically on set those flowers for and he didn’t bring it up himself. You just thought it was someone else entirely. 
But Tim…
“Oh shit I didn’t-he’s gonna run me over with his motorcycle.” Tim sighs.
“I won’t say anything.” you sputter out.
Tim looks at you now, desperation clear on his face, “What?”
“I won’t say anything. I promise.” You say again.
“Why?”
You let out a breath. There were a million why’s and all of them were valid. 
“I owe you, for the video. So we’re even now.” You explain.
Tim seems to take your answer. Before the two of you can speak any more words to each other the front door to the trailer is pulled open. Stomping in is Jason. He spots the two of you and stops in his tracks.
“I was looking for you.” he says.
“Found me,” you say and turn to him, “but I only had a few minutes.”
Jason shrugs and starts moving again. He walks over to the two of you and stands in front of you. Like right in front of you as if Tim wasn’t even there. As if it were just you and him.
“It’s okay I’ll just find you again.” he says.
You gulp.
Yeah you can’t make this shit up. All the things they write about the two of you in the tabloids and all those pictures they take, it’s not baseless. Not at all. 
“Gotta go now. See you around, bye Tim.” You speak finally.
Then you’re tearing out of Jason's trailer in a storm. The door closes behind you and you let out a breath, again. You don't even know why Jason was looking for you in the first place.
TIM DRAKE VISITS BROTHER JASON ON SET AND SHARES PICS! SEE THEM HERE!
BIG MERGER MOVES: LUTHOR BUYS OUT TWO MAJOR MOVIE STUDIOS. WHAT COMES NEXT? ACTORS UNION TERMINATING CONTRACT.
FULL SOUNDTRACK FOR "LOVE ON THE MEND" REVEALED! HINT AT A THIRD INSTALLMENT? CHECK IT OUT!
-
Filming was on a two week break for summer. You couldn’t be more happy. Yes you loved being in front of the camera and the rest of the cast and crew are amazing. But somedays you needed to not be an actor for a couple of hours. Just try to be normal. And what other day that thins one? It’s very important after all. 
It was only right that you put effort into Jason's birthday gift. The present he got you on set was clearly his way of displaying how much you mean to him. You planned on doing the same.
You started off simple.
At 9 am, which is the time he sets aside for not being busy in the morning, a delivery was sent to his house. Nothing too complicated. Just a sweet treat in a miniature pink box that was baked that morning to absolute perfection! A red velvet cupcake from Queen's Cakes.
This led to him to shoot you a text. Of course it's Jason so he can't just outright ask in fear of being wrong. So he asked how you were, as if it weren't his birthday, and what you were up to.
You answered that you were great and had gone over some possible pieces for a magazine shoot that was coming up. Then you asked him the same.
To which he didn't respond for a few minutes. If you didn't know better you would have thought he left you on read. But you knew that he was taking the time to eat the delicious cupcake. He had a sweet tooth after all.
Then he texted you back.
Jason: if this cupcake I just ate isn't from you I'm gonna be really upset.
You: you eat things that have unknown origins often?
Jason: will you please sedate my worries and tell me it was you
Jason: pleaseeeee
You: maybe it was. was it in a white box?
Jason: no????
You: Jason!
Jason: Wait pls don't say I ate something from someone else
You: was there a note?
Jason: NO?????
You can't help to laugh at his text. In the time it takes for you to stop laughing and peel yourself off the floor which broke your fall from your belly laugh, Jason texted multiple times.
Jason: should've had Roy try it first
Jason: what if I PERISH????
Jason: you're in my will by the way 
Jason: please tell me you're joking.
You are quick to type back a response.
You: why the hell am I in your will? also I'm glad Roy didn't eat the cupcake that I so carefully ordered for you.
Jason: I knew it was you!!!
You: No you didn't.
Jason: shush I knew it was you all along. I wouldn't have eaten it if I didn't trust it.
You: it's not the only thing I have in store for you today.
You: :)
Jason: I don't like that smiley.
Jason: Hello?
Jason: oh you're gonna make me suffer aren't you?
Jason: Low. On my birthday of all days.
It's comical how he kept on texting you throughout the day to confirm which things were from you or your doing and which were not. Never in your life did you think you'd have to deny getting Jason a shirt with his father's cartoon face on it. But you did.
That's how you spent your day. In between calls from you manager and your agent you would get pictures from Jason. When you looked at your phone during breaks from looking at packaged scripts a quick 'from you?' every two hours. If it were anyone else it would be annoying but it's Jason. 
As the day spilled into night you were sure he was going to lose his mind at his final gift. You spent time trying to put it together. It was work and a half trying to do it while keeping it a secret and going on with your work-life.
You didn't do this for any one before. And in your head you knew the reason why you were doing all of this. The way you can't seem to keep your eyes off of him when he's in the room, the way you want to hear his laugh every day. 
You know the reason plain and simple. You worked on two rom-coms it would be remise of you to not know. Doesn't mean you had the courage to say it out loud yet.
Yet here you were at Jason's condo. The final gift hidden behind your back. You were almost late because of traffic. Even when you threw on the nearest clothes you had found to save on time. 
Standing at his door with a black trench coat, purple sweatpants and a white hoodie is not what you thought of when you had this day planned out. But choosing an outfit became a hassle when you threw off every option. Nothing felt right. 
The door opens and there he is. Jason Todd. Shirtless. You didn't think you would be gifted on his birthday but sometimes miracles do happen. You can't help the smile on your face.
"You're on my doorstep." he says.
"Worlds greatest detective, yes I am." you speak.
He smiles now too. But he doesn't move to let you in. No. Instead he takes a step past the threshold of his home, which doesn't mean sense to you since he's shirtless and it's nighttime in California and it's a bit windy but you weren't one to complain. Not when he was this close.
"I think I like this gift the most." he says.
And you skip a beat. Your mind completely blanks and your breath hitches in your throat. You think to yourself that he didn't mean the underlying message of what he just said. But then the logic in your brain turns on and completely disagrees with you. 
This guy got flowers for you-as proven by Tim.
He stands toe to toe with you now. And he's looking at you like-like you were on set. But you're not. This is real life. There are no cameras here. No Dent sitting in a chair ready to yell action or cut. None of what you're used to with Jason usually looking at you like this. 
"You don't even know what the gift is." you whisper. 
You can't help but to whisper. Speaking too loudly might cut this moment short and you don't want it to end. 
Time goes by slowly as it happens. You watch as his eyes travel from your face to behind you. Jason, as luck would have it, is a bit taller than you. So with his eyes gliding behind you, you know that he's seen the gift that is tucked behind you.
Jason looks back at you then. A look on his face. Like he knows now that his words could have held a different weight coupled with the fact that you are actually holding a gift behind you back. A look that tells you this moment is over.
He clears his throat, "Whatcha got there?" 
You swallow the ever present lump in your throat. Was it there when he opened the door shirtless or when he stepped into your personal space? Either way it's there. Oh it's there alright.
"I saw this a while ago and thought of you." you speak.
That's when you bring forth the gift from behind your back. It is now the only thing keeping space between you and Jason. If it weren't there-you can't think like that right now.
Jason smiles down at the gift. Wrapped in a red and green. A yellow bow to top it all off.
As he takes the gift from you, your fingers brush. A little bit of static passes between the two of you. Neither of you flinch. 
"Is this food related?" he asks.
"What? No I literally gave you a food item this morning I can't repeat a gift!" you answer.
He laughs, and damn that laugh, "Okay then good you can join me for dinner." 
At his words your eyebrows shoot up on your face. Not at him inviting you inside his home. But at the mere possibility he might've cooked a meal all by himself.
"Did you cook it?" you ask.
Jason doesn't even dignify you with a response. Instead he holds out his hand for you to take. When you do, he walks over to his door and opens it. He lets the both of you into his home. 
The smell hits your first. It's a mix of tomato and basil maybe? Parsley? You can never quite tell the difference between the two when it comes to smell.
You shut the door behind you. Jason almost doesn't let you because he's lightly dragging you further into his house. You don't miss how his thumb is lightly tracing back and forth on the back of your hand.
The two of you make it to the kitchen and that's when you see it. On his stove is a pot filled with red sauce and pasta. A cutting board on the counter has both parsley and basil chopped up along with some garlic and onions.
"I know a couple of things. Learned from my grandfather." he answers finally.
You nod along, remembering he's told you about him countless times before. 
"Alfred, right." you reply.
Then Jason lets go of your hand. The loss of contact shouldn't effect you as much as it does but it does. You wanted to hold his hand for longer. About a year ago that wasn't something you think you'd say in your mind.
"How about this dinner goes differently?" he questions.
You tilt your head, "How so?"
He shrugs. It's so casual. Like he's didn't just throw you off kilter with that remark at the door and asking for your hand to lead you inside his house. What else does this guy have up his sleeve?
"Tonight we don't eat as co-stars. We eat as two regular people who like the company of the other." he answers.
You snicker, "Jason Todd are you saying you enjoy my company." 
"Have for a while now, keep up." he jokes.
"You didn't even open my gift. What if I got it all wrong?" you tease.
Jason shakes his head, and moves over to the pot. He takes the wooden spoon that's laying near the counter and starts mixing.
"I have a feeling you got it completely right. You have this freaky sense for knowing me really well. Almost like you enjoy my company as well." he says.
All you do is hum to yourself. Which leads Jason to do the same. 
At some point you would have to tell him. At some point you needed to come up with the words to tell Jason Todd that you have fallen for him more than once. 
The night goes quickly. The two of you make a plate of pasta stretch for two hours. Well it's easy when you two talk while eating. And it's easy talking to Jason. That's how you end up sitting side by side on his couch.
He leans back, "You know I usually don't celebrate my birthday."
"Why not?" you ask.
Jason shrugs at that. You start to think you might've annoyed him today. With all the presents and you being here at his house. If he wasn't into all that would he tell you upfront instead of pretending to like it?
Is he telling you now?
"Just not really into the whole big party celebration thing." he states.
You nod your head along, "I mean but today was okay right? Me sending you stuff and being here?"
Jason shakes his head at your words. You watch him.
"Today was amazing, thank you by the way. If I can spend every birthday with you I'll be happy." he says simply.
You keep looking at him. At how he seems so comfortable. How the first time you met him he came off as a cocky actor who knew how good looking he was and knew how to make you squirm. And he did. But now, oh now, you know how to make him squirm and twist too.
"Jason," at the mention of his name he turns to you, "do you ever hear how you speak to me?"
There's a look on his face as he looks at you now. One that is solid and confident. You've seen him nervous and you've seen him happy, you can't quite tell what this look means and what comes after it.
"I pick my words with you sweetheart." he answers.
It was now or never.
"Okay then, were the flowers for me?" you ask.
You watch as his eyes go wide. And then they simmer down as he looks anywhere but at you. You swear you can see a red tint to his neck. Nervous. When Jason Todd gets nervous... it means he cares.
"Yes." he speaks.
The way your heart swells is criminal. It was like you were in a romcom of your own. A million of thoughts were running through your head. What do you say next? What do you tell him? What is he going to tell you?
"Jay?"
He looks at you.
"I liked it when you thought I was your gift on the porch." you admit.
His face morphs into pure glee. He actually leans closer to you on the couch. Being this close you can feel his body heat. You know there is a smile on your face, your cheeks feel hot.
"You didn't have to kiss me that night to prove your point," he starts.
You move even closer now. You're leaning against him now. In the haze of your mind you feel his hand come to rest on your hip. Shooting a romcom with him it usually feels normal. But at this very moment it feels like burning hot electricity.
"But I did." you finish for him.
He lightly laughs at that. The movement causes his forehead to touch yours. And you like the feel of it. You lean forward and press your foreheads together again.
"There's no cameras around here." he whispers.
Your smile widens, "It's not like we're shooting something raunchy."
You both laugh at that.
"I don't wanna rush this. I wanna take my time you deserve it, all of it." he says.
"Okay Jason. We can take our time." you reply.
"Might kiss you before I drop you home though." he whispers.
"Who said you're dropping me home?" you pull yourself back.
Jason laughs at that. Fully laughs with his head thrown back and his eyes closed. You bottle the sound in your mind. You can't believe it, being this close to him his laugh sounds so much better.
"If we are taking our time you cannot stay here. I would suffer greatly." he says.
"I like the idea of that." you joke.
He looks at you, nothing but light in his eyes.
"Wicked. You are utterly wicked." he says.
DAMIAN WAYNE SPEAKS OUT: TELL ALL ABOUT FUTURE ANIMAL SANCTUARY, ROLE IN HIS MOTHER'S NEW COMPANY, AND MORE!
"LOVE ON THE MEND" PUT ON HOLD BY LUTHOR STUDIO BUY OUT! WHEN CAN THE FILM START SHOOTING AGAIN?
SCEEN ACTORS GUILD GETS FULL SUPPORT FROM BRUCE WAYNE, HARVEY DENT, PAMELA + HARLEY, AND MORE AFTER LUTHOR BUY OUT
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pythonees · 2 years
Text
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ THREES A CROWD — embry & paul
WARNINGS: you might have to re-read the series because it's been so long (my bad)
A/N: I am so so so sorry about my sudden hiatus. I haven't been doing all to well this past year (though I honestly think it's been for much longer) and it's been very draining cycling through medications that don't work. But I have been having a good patch this last week and decided I wanted to tackle the hell that is transferring chapters from wattpad to tumblr.
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nine ˖⋆࿐໋₊
The three of you are sitting on the ground in the middle of your room. Between you is your now half-eaten pizza, dessert, and cans of soda. The boys look at you expectantly, waiting for an explanation on what had been happening the last few days. With a sigh, you put down your slice of pizza, ripping off a piece from the paper towel roll you had next to you to clean off the grease on your fingers.
"Its been happening since Tuesday," You mumble, unable to look either of them in the eye, "I was on the bus home when I first saw the eyes. I didn't think anything of it at first, I figured it was just a trick of the light, you know? But then on the way home, I think I was hallucinating? Everyone on the bus looked demonic. Like, their eyes turned black and they were just staring at me. I looked away for a second, and when I looked back everyone went back to normal."
"It happened again today, the eyes, but I know it wasn't a trick of the light or just stress. I could see the outline of their face, but couldn't make out who it was. But I know what I saw!" Towards the end, you start to get a little hysterical, desperately wanting them to believe you. The boys don't say anything for a second, casting each other a quick glance before they turn back to you.
"Okay, so, don't freak out," Embry starts, and you let out a frustrated groan, "but I think that leech has powers." It takes you a second to register what Embry said. You stare at him blankly, and he stares right back, starting to fidget when you don't say anything, "Hey-"
"You didn't think to tell me at that stupid meeting that vampires have powers?!"
"In my defence-"
"What? In what world does not telling me they have powers make any sense?" You glare at Embry, waiting for a response when you remember something else, "Do the Cullens have powers?"
The silence in the room is deafening. Embry looks vaguely scared, but thankfully Paul jumps in, putting down his slice of pizza. "Three of them, not all."
Taking a deep breath, you will yourself to calm down enough to ask, "Who?"
Embry chimes in again, a look of guilt on his face, "Edward can read minds, Alice can see the future, and Jasper can feel and control emotions. From what the elders have said, it's not very common for the cold ones to have powers, we just got unlucky."
You nod along to his explanation, relaxing when Embry mentions the rarity of powers. Taking a deep breath, you lean back against your bed. You grab the box of dessert sitting next to you, pulling apart the warm, cinnamon sugar covered bread with a satisfied hum.
While trying to open up the small tub of icing with one hand, you gesture to the tv stand with the other, "Now that we have this all figured out, wanna watch a movie?"
The boys abandon their slices of pizza to go looking through your movies, quickly cleaning their hands off. The two bicker over what film to watch, going back and forth until they decide on some action movie that you didn't even know you had.
When the boys turn back around, they both make a beeline to you, settling on either side as they waited for the DVD to start.
The three of you settle in comfortably once the movie starts, but only after a couple of minutes of you trying to figure out how to snuggle into both of them without asking them to move closer, both of their phones go off one right after the other. With a drawn-out groan, Embry pulls out his phone, since his went off first, reading through the message. He's silent for a moment, then lets out a pained sound.
"What?" Paul and you both ask, shooting each other playful looks quickly before turning to look at Embry.
"Jake is really starting to get annoying," Embry whines, pockets his phone as he stands up, with Paul wordlessly following his lead, "He's trying to disobey Alpha orders, so now we all have to go on patrol as punishment."
You scramble to stand as well, following them to your window as you smooth out your clothes. You move in closer than what's probably acceptable, but both boys seem to lose the tension in their bodies at your closeness.
"Give him hell for me, okay?"
You get an amused snort from Embry, and a muttered, "he'll be wishing for hell," from Paul.
Turning to the still open window, Paul is about to climb through when you tell them to wait. Both Embry and Paul turn to look at you, no doubt about to ask what wrong, but you're quick to cut them off.
You're somehow able to wrap your arms around them both, though your arms don't get very far. With one arm around each of their waists, you pull them into an awkward group hug. It takes a second, but they relax into it fully, arms moving to wrap around you.
The combined heat is nearly too much but somehow not enough at the same time. It makes you feel safe in a way you didn't know was possible, or that you even knew you needed.
"Please be careful," You mumble into their chest, squeezing your arms around them before reluctantly letting them both go. Their hands linger as they also pull away, looking like they would rather stay there then go out on patrol.
A close howl catches their attention, causing the boys to groan in unison.
"Sam won't let us do our patrol near your house, since you'll be a 'distraction'," Embry says, voice dripping in annoyance, "but Jared will be nearby, so you'll be safe."
With that, both the boys are gone, Paul jumping out the window first, followed quickly by Embry. You lean out the window to watch the two as they run off into the trees, wishing that they could have stayed there with you for just a little longer.
They pass by a wolf just barely seen through the dark, who you guess is Jared. You give him a quick wave, ducking back into your room to finish your work before turning in for the night.
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©︎ pythonees — do not, under any circumstance, repost, plagiarize, modify or translate my work.
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princessbatears · 2 years
Text
Wannabe Father - Chapter 7
Casa Werewolf Series #7
Chapters 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6
Pairing: Javi Gutierrez x Werewolf Single Mom f!Reader Summary: A comment has Javi questioning if he'll ever be a real dad to your kiddos Warnings: mention of blood, discussion of hunting for food as werewolves, discussion of killing animals, sexual arousal, language, discussion of dead parent Words: 3k
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A few hours after you take the children out to hunt, there’s a soft knock on the front door. Javi quickly turns off the movie he’d been watching and goes to peer out the curtains of the front window. He sees your large silhouette on the porch.
Quickly, he unlocks and opens the door. Bo, Tallulah and Astrid are asleep, cradled to your chest in one long arm. You smile at him and, even though the shape of it is different, it’s still unmistakably your smile.
“Did it go well?” he asks softly. He’s already learned that ‘yes’ and ‘no’ questions are the easiest way of communicating.
You nod, eyes shining proudly. Then, you enter the house on three legs and head to the living room. He follows.
Gently, you set each puppy on the sofa, snuggling them together. Bo sighs, his arms tugging Tallulah instinctively closer in his sleep. Astrid shoves her face against Bo’s belly before lapsing into adorable little snores.
Javi chuckles. Is it really fair for such cute kids to be allowed to turn into equally cute puppies?
You make a soft “roo” sound, catching his attention. When he looks at you, you’re rubbing your stomach with one hand and using your other to mime eating. Then, you point at the door.
“You’re still hungry and need to get more food?” he guesses. Moms are often the last to get to eat and it’d track that you’re the same even as a Wolf.
You nod before gesturing at him and then the pile of kids.
“I can watch them,” he agrees eagerly, both because he’s happy to and because he knows what trust you’re placing in him.
Relieved, you give his cheek a lick before walking back to the door. He sees you glance behind you once before shutting it and disappearing again into the night.
After locking the door again, Javi grabs a throw blanket from the back of the sofa, which he lightly drapes over the pups. Then, he sits by them to watch them sleep.
The shock of being around werewolves has thankfully fully worn off. Now, he's just fascinated. Lightly, he touches one of Bo’s front paws. Or are they hands? The long human-like fingers are covered in fur and have claws instead of nails, so he’s not sure what that makes them.
It’s amazing to him that these pups, who are about the size of a small Spaniel dog, will grow into a creature as huge as you. He’s still blown-away by how incredible you are in Wolf form. The size of a bear, but with all the elegance and grace of a jungle cat.
Astrid stretches, eyes blinking open. She looks around, forehead crinkling with confusion. Pushing herself up on her front paw, she scans the room, worry growing when she can’t spot you.
Javi runs a hand down her ruff, cooing, “It’s okay, Astrid. Mama’s gone to get herself some supper, but she’ll be back soon. Until then, I’m here. You’re safe.”
She looks up at him, trembling slightly. He’s not surprised his words don’t comfort her. She’s been left in a strange place with someone she doesn’t truly know that well.
But, to his surprise, she crawls over Bo and into his lap. She curls up, back against his stomach, and rests her chin on his right wrist.
A warmth expands through his chest, making him feel emotional. With his free hand, he caresses her coat. “You can just rest right here, mi amor. I’ve got you.” Soon, her shivering stops and her breathing deepens with sleep again.
He presses a kiss to the top of her head. How did he get to be the one who’s been blessed with the privilege and responsibility of knowing about you all? To learn the world is far more magical than he ever guessed?
He’s not sure how long he sits there, soaking it all in, but, eventually, he hears a knock on the door again. None of the puppies stir at the sound, so completely exhausted from their exciting evening.
Gently setting Astrid back with the others, Javi stands. He once again double-checks that it is indeed you before letting you in.
“Find something to eat?” he asks, lightly touching your back after locking the door.
You nod, smiling at him. He notices that the fur on your face, ruff, and chest are wet, like you'd stuck your top half the nearby river. Were you catching fish?
And, maybe it’s just the low light of the lamps, but there’s some pink tinging the light grey parts on your muzzle. “You didn’t get hurt, did you?”
You shake your head.
Well, that’s a relief. It must be blood from your meal. “You’re wet, let me get you a towel.” The night might be warm, but he doesn’t want you to get chilled.
Jogging up the stairs to the linen closet, he grabs a few spare towels. Oddly, he doesn’t feel weird about the bloodstains from whatever animal you killed, which makes him proud of himself. He's cut out to be a werewolf’s boyfriend!
When he returns downstairs, he finds you sitting by the couch, tendering grooming the snoozing kiddos with your tongue. “Is it okay if I dry you off a bit?”
You glance at him, nodding, before refocusing on cleaning Tallulah’s neck.
Javi comes up behind you and begins to rub your ruff and head with the towel. You shift your weight slightly, leaning your side against him. He smiles, moving his ministrations to your chest. For once in his life, he doesn’t feel like he needs to fill the silence with words, letting the peaceful sounds of you tending to your pups and him tending you be enough.
The next morning, Javi purposefully wakes early, wanting to make breakfast for the family. He’s dismayed to find you already in the kitchen, slicing some crusty bread.
“¡Hola, buenas!” you smile at him. Maybe it’s his imagination, but he swears he can see the Wolf in your eyes, even though your irises are the normal human color. There’s something extra energetic about them, about you.
“I was going to make you breakfast, but it seems you beat me to it.” He joins you at the counter.
You shrug. “I don’t sleep much during the full moon. But it was very sweet of you to want to.” Then, you give him a kiss. It’s not the little peck he expected; rather, a quick but thorough exploration of his mouth that ends with you biting his lower lip in a way that almost has his knees giving out.
Giggling at his stunned reaction, you return to cutting bread. “The kids like tostada con tomate for breakfast. Would you like some?”
Managing to yank a few brain cells in the direction of your question, he says, “Please. Can I help?”
“If there’s sliced meat, will you grab it? If not, we can make fried eggs for the top. The toast itself isn’t enough for them.”
Javi opens the refrigerator and finds ham slices. “We’ve got ham.” After setting the butcher paper-wrapped meat next to you, he grabs the coffee beans. “Do you drink coffee?”
You crinkle your nose cutely. “Not if it’s torrefacto beans. Too bitter.”
He only has torrefacto coffee beans, but he makes a note to get beans roasted without sugar. “We could go to a bar after dropping the kids off, get some coffee you like. More breakfast if you need it”
You put the a dozen slices of bread on a pan, then slide it into the oven to toast. “I’d love some coffee, but I probably won’t be eating any food until I hunt again tonight. My nightly meals are pretty giant.”
“So, you found enough to eat, then?” he asks, trying to be tactful and not just bombard you with a bunch of questions about hunting.
“I did. The kids had some mice and rabbits and I found myself a deer.”
“Bueno. Hey, why were you all wet? Did you try fishing in the river?”
You look a little sheepish. “I was cleaning myself up. There’s an… enthusiasm that takes over werewolves when they eat, so the bigger, bloodier animals make a mess.”
“Considering how messy my face and hands get with my favorite foods, I can’t blame you,” he laughs easily.
Looking at the window above the sink, you smile gratefully. “This area is perfect. Quiet, full of life, safe. Thank you again for letting us stay here.”
Javi puts his arms around your middle, breathing in the scent of your soap. “You can come here every full moon if you want.”
Your fingers push his bangs to the side, searching his face. “You’re really not scared of me.” It’s somewhere between a statement and a question.
He lightly brushes your lips with his own. “You are the most amazing being I’ve ever seen. Both woman and Wolf.”
Chuckling softly, you link your hands behind his neck, preparing to give him another one of those knock-out kisses.
But then you pause, listening, before pulling away. The loss of your body against his is excruciating. “I hear one of the kids up.”
Javi clears his throat, grateful he’s wearing loose shorts today. “Do you still need olive oil?
“I do,” you say in a tone that, if he didn’t see the speckles of amber in your eyes, would make him think you’re far more unaffected than he is. He’s thrilled to see you’re not.
He grabs the olive oil from a cupboard and sets it next to you. “Oh, I wanted to ask if it’s okay if the niños come to my house after school to feed Marci. If they still want to.” He hasn’t forgotten Talulah’s interest in the fish.
You smile. “Of course. I’ve got to get some work done, so would you be okay taking them without me?”
“Certainly!” Another major sign of trust.
A werewolf puppy comes skittering into the kitchen, legs flailing as it goes too fast on the hard floor. It only comes to a stop by slamming into Javi’s left calf.
It turns out to be Bo, who flops over on his back, belly in the air, and grins up at Javi.
“Bo, why aren’t you dressed?” you ask, barely looking at your son as you wash a tomato.
Bo paws at Javi’s foot and then stretches out farther. “Do you want a belly rub?” Javi chuckles, bending over to rub his chest and stomach like he would a dog’s.
Looking blissful, Bo goes limp, eyes half-closing.
“Bo, you need to get dressed,” you say firmly. “You can get more pets from Javi after school. Are your sisters awake?”
With a put-upon sigh, Bo gets to his feet. He shakes his head no in answer.
“Javi, I’m going to go get them moving. Will you finish making breakfast? The kids like tomatoes and olive oil in addition to ham.”
He smiles, happy he gets to make some of the food after all. “Consider it done.”
Javi stands on the step stool in front of Marci’s fish tank, holding Tallulah in his arms so she can reach the top. His big Oscar is bobbing at the surface of the water, eager for food.
“Okay, drop one piece in at a time,” he instructs.
Cupped in one of her hands are chopped fresh prawns. With her other, she drops a piece in. Marci sucks it up in her mouth.
“She ate it so fast!” Tallulah says in delight.
“I can’t see,” Bo moans forlornly from the floor.
“You’ll get a turn with her, chiquito,” Javi promises.
Earlier that afternoon, when the triplets had returned with you from school, he’d offered to bring them to feed Marci. Tallulah and Bo had jumped at the opportunity while Astrid had opted to stay at the safe house with you to paint her daily art prompt.
It’s been insightful to interact with the elder two siblings on their own. They’re more competitive with each other when it’s just them, and neither feels the need to take care of the other like they do Astrid.
Tallulah giggles as Marci swims excitedly around, awaiting each new morsel of food. “Bo acts that way when he smells supper.”
Bo chortles. “Food is the best.”
Javi chuckles, watching Marci spin in circles. “I always know she likes someone when she does that when they feed them.”
Face lighting up, Tallulah beams at the fish. “I like you, too, Marci!”
Once her hand is empty of prawn, Javi bends over to set her on the ground. “Go wash your hands.” Then, he lifts Bo, who is holding diced cucumber.
“One piece at a time.”
Bo does as instructed, grinning as Marci shows him the same eagerness over the vegetable. “She really is like me!”
“Told you!” Tallulah calls as she leaves the room to go to the bathroom.
“I thought fish ate fish food.”
“Fish food offers a balanced diet for a lot of fish, but Oscar fish require more variety or they get bored and stop eating. Kind of like if your mama only fed you the same food over and over forever.”
Bo dismisses this. “I could eat pizza every day, every meal forever!”
Tallulah still hasn’t returned by the time Bo’s done feeding Marci, so he and Javi go in search of her. “Tallulah?”
They hear her say enthusiastically, “You got a wall of pictures, too!”
She’s standing in a nearby hallway, looking at the gallery wall of Gutierrez family photos. She points at one of Javi and David during Christmas morning a few years ago. “You’re a twin!”
Javi smiles. “That’s my little brother, David. We’re not actually twins—he’s a few years younger—but we look a lot alike. I mean, I’m obviously more handsome with better hair.” He playfully tosses his head, making his waves bounce.
Tallulah frowns up at him with those child’s discerning eyes. “You have more wrinkles.”
Well, that’s a shot to the heart.
He’s saved from responding when Bo asks, “Is he a gazillionaire also?”
The family business and money are too complicated to explain, so Javi answers, “He’s an actor. He makes movies and TV shows.”
“What kind?”
“Probably nothing you’ve seen. Adult dramas and things.”
Both Tallulah and Bo make faces. “That’s boring,” Tallulah scoffs, jumping onto Bo’s back. She locks her legs around his waist and orders, “Run!”
Bo immediately charges along the hallway as they both shriek with laughter.
Javi smirks to himself. Wait until he tells David that the kids think he’s boring.
“Why don’t you got kids?” Tallulah asks as Bo makes another lap past him.
You’d probably be aghast that she asked him such an a question, but Javi knows it’s a sign that she feels comfortable with him. And he doesn’t mind answering. “I never found the right person to marry.”
Tired of carrying her around, Bo pushes Talullah off him. She easily lands on her feet. “You should get married. Mama says being married to Daddy was the best thing that ever happened to her.”
“Yeah, she got us!” Bo grins.
“And they were in love,” Tallulah huffs, like he totally missed the point.
A sharp pang of envy shoots through Javi at how attached Tallulah is to the idea of you and Ivan’s relationship.
Almost immediately, shame rises to join it. How could he even allow himself to feel threatened by it? She’s a young girl grieving her father; not a little kid in a movie who meets a nice neighbor and immediately wants to set him up with her lonely mother. He can’t expect them to immediately see him as a father, no matter how badly he wants it.
“Javi?” Both kids are looking up at him expectantly, like he missed something.
“Hmmm? Sorry, I spaced out,” he laughs lightly, trying to shove aside all the unpleasant feelings so he can enjoy this time.
The next morning, Javi joins you in dropping the kids off at school. You two are going on a little coffee date to one of your favorite spots that he hasn’t been to before.
“It’s lovely this morning,” you sigh, head tipped up towards the light, cool breeze.
“Fall is here,” Javi agrees, basking in how content you look and the way it feels to hold your hand as you walk to the café.
When you reach the café, there’s a long queue out the door. “I usually come a little earlier, before it gets this busy. Do you want to go somewhere else?” you ask.
“I don’t mind waiting. It’s beautiful outside and the company is even more beautiful.” He grins at you.
You duck your head slightly, smiling in that adorably bashful way of yours.
Before too long, the queue has the two of standing just outside the café. Right next to you is a newspaper stand, with a variety of newspapers, magazines and tabloids displayed.
Frowning, you lean towards one of the tabloids on a shelf. “Is that you?” You point in shock at a picture of a man that does look very much like him on the cover, holding hands with some supermodel.
Before he can correct you, you translate the Spanish headline aloud, “‘Dieter Bravo spotted with Destiny Raven.’” You turn to him curiously. “Is this your brother?”
He chuckles, nodding. “His stage name is Dieter Bravo. Occasionally, he ends up on tabloids.”
A look of horror comes over your face. “Are you on tabloids, too? Does the paparazzi take pictures of you?”
- - -
Thank you SO much for reading this story; I’d love to hear your thoughts! 🥰
Spanish Translations/Notes: mi amor - my love ¡Hola, buenas! - common casual greeting in Spain tostada con tomate - toasted bread with olive oil, grated tomato, and sometimes the addition of meat or eggs torrefacto coffee - traditional Spanish coffee has a very bitter flavor because the beans are coated in sugar before roasting, which results in burned sugar combining with the beans chiquito - affectionate term for a child
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Javi Gutierrez Masterlist
Werewolf Masterlist
87 notes · View notes
mugiwara-no-toshokan · 11 months
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Some Direction
CisFem Reader x Roronoa Zoro
CW: Language, stalking, violence, sexual themes and situations, ptsd -- surprisingly fluffy despite it all. 18+ only
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Chapter 22: Double Yellow Line
You groan. Your body is covered in sweat and you're swinging between freezing and burning up. The morning had already been a terrible rush to the bathroom as what little was in your stomach came up.
Zoro had found you leaning against the toilet groaning and now you were on the couch. Sheets layered beneath you and a bucket nearby, you had been taking off and putting on covers as you wanted, in a desperate and futile attempt to find some scrap of comfort.
You were home from the hospital for a couple weeks and had gotten back into living. The series of therapy sessions had been intense, but useful, and both of you had been glad for them at the end of it.
Stress didn't just settle into the mind, however, and after managing a full week of work the stress of everything seemed to crash into you. A temperature of 100.7, a nasty cough, congestion and the inability to hold down anything more than broth was an easy diagnosis.
You had the flu.
Zoro didn't, and your flu-addled brain was quite cross with him about that. But you couldn't really complain, he was practically doting on you. He'd wipe your sweat before it got bad, and helped you take baths. He would rub your face and head to try and relieve some of the pressure or headaches.
"I'm being domesticated." You huff, snuggled into him and watching a movie.
"You're being pampered," Zoro corrects.
"You're enjoying it."
"The pampering part, yeah." His hand was against your forehead. "I don't like the flu part."
"I bet you've never even caught a cold. You or Mihawk. They'd be too intimidated."
"They?"
"Germs."
Zoro laughs after failing to keep it in. "I've had a cold before."
"A. Cold."
"I'm sure it was more than one. I only remember the one."
"I get sick a few times a year."
"You work with the public."
"You have like 150 students."
"No one shows up to practice sick, it's not allowed."
"Meh."
"Want something more than soup?"
"... yeah, I don't feel so queasy today, but I am really hungry."
"That's a good sign."
"What're you gonna cook for me?"
He raises an eyebrow. "Thought you didn't want to be 'domesticated'."
You laugh. "I'm not being domesticated, I'm being pampered." You manage in a hoarse kind of sick person sing-song voice.
"I'll see what I can do," He says, kissing the side of your face and untangling himself from you.
The blankets around you are suddenly cold and you tighten them around yourself before sinking back into the couch. You smile softly to yourself, wondering if all marimos are warm, or if it's just yours.
Mihawk comes in as Zoro's starting to cook and sits near you in the family room. He has a glass of wine, and a notepad with addresses and times on it. He taps the notepad as he talks.
"The venues have all accepted rescheduling." He reports, sitting comfortably.
"Thank you," you smile. "I appreciate all the help, dad."
You catch the small smile on his face at being addressed thus and lean into the blankets a little relieved. You had accidentally called him 'dad' at the hospital and had noticed he seemed displeased when you had reverted to calling him by name.
He was, or inevitably would be, legally a father to you in a few more months. When you called him dad a second time you had caught the barest hint of pink in his ears and decided to roll with it. Like father, like son, neither one seemed to ask much of you, but once you figured them out it was easy to know what they wanted.
You were supposed to look at a few wedding venues with Zoro yesterday and today, but you got sick so suddenly that there hadn't been time to reschedule. You could hardly talk, and Zoro didn't care about the reservations because he was too busy worrying about you.
Thankfully, Mihawk had volunteered to help, and had finished spending the afternoon rescheduling for you. Which meant next week you would be off work again, visiting venues on Monday, catering on Tuesday, cakes on Wednesday, and dresses Thursday. The whole wedding process was exhausting, but you had options to fall back on if nothing caught your interest with the places you were scheduled to visit. So, you shouldn't have to take another week off if things didn't fall into place next week.
Fortunately, despite all that had happened, you weren't at risk of losing your job, but you were starting to think you should just quit. It felt like the Universe wanted you to resign from being a librarian. With everything that had happened in the last three or so months, you also felt like you could happily just not worry about work for at least a year.
"I wonder if I can take a sabbatical." You murmur softly; eyes more focused on the ceiling than anything else.
"You could quit entirely, if you were so inclined." Mihawk says. "You enjoy your work, but the dojo can support a few generations before it would need worry."
Well. That answered that long-standing curiosity of yours rather neatly. It was a little weird to understand just how financially secure you were with a few short words.
"I'll talk to Brook after next week and see." You decide. "Between preparing for the wedding, the actual event, and I'm assuming a honeymoon, I'd be missing so much work that I'd need to take a sabbatical or resign."
"You sound frustrated."
"I'm... not. Not really. I feel like a kid who had chicken pox or something and now I've missed so much school I'm being held back a year." You explain. "It wasn't my fault I got the pox, and no one's berating me for missing a year, but everything else moves ahead regardless. I guess I am, at the least, a little aggravated, but only because I didn't get to make the choice for myself."
"I think I understand."
"Have you ever had a cold, dad?" You ask suddenly, turning to look at Mihawk. You can see surprise and confusion on his face for a few solid seconds, and the sound of Zoro trying not to laugh as he comes around with a plate of food.
. . . . . .
Monday you and Zoro looked at three venues and decided to have the wedding at the dojo. The location was plenty large enough, and Mihawk had offered it as a possibility before you had looked anywhere else. In the end nothing you had looked at compared to the flexibility the dojo offered and converting the actual dojo into a kind of reception space was easy as well. The overly friendly nature of everyone you dealt with for each venue was off-putting as well.
It probably worked well for most couples, but the near mania of the people who kept showing you around their venues just made you think of Usopp, and it was hard to focus on what they were actually saying. Your discomfort became Zoro's discomfort, and that was the end of that.
Tuesday was catering.
"Feeling okay?" Zoro asks for the second time that day.
You nod. You hadn't had much appetite at breakfast and had shrugged it off. You knew you'd be tasting samples all day today, so you weren't worried. He'd asked you if you were okay then, and you had reassured him. Now though, you were concerned you were coming down with a second round of flu.
"I'm fine," you say. "I guess I just don't have much of an appetite today. Some days I can pack away a couple pizzas on my own and still be hungry, other days a glass of water has me feeling full."
He puts his hand on your forehead anyway and his face is covered in concern. His fussing isn't overwhelming, but it's helped break the ice with the lady walking you through your food options. She brightens toward Zoro quickly once she realizes he's not truly perpetually angry.
When you finished with your final appointment, you felt uncomfortably full, and you'd barely eaten enough to try and make any decisions. It was all good, but none of it really stuck out with either of you.
"We could get that bastard to cater for us." Zoro offers, firing the car into life.
"I thought we were inviting Sanji?"
"He'd be more thrilled to cook for everyone." Zoro says, and you believed him.
"Let me text him."
You: hey Sanji, we need someone to cater the big day. Do you cater? Can you do it on xx/xx?
Sanji: I can! I do! I'll make food so delicious even the Marimo won't be able to scowl.
You: alright, when can you come by so we can talk details and cost?
Sanji: Saturday morning, if that works?
You: Should. There'll be a class, but Mihawk can handle it.
"Alright, he'll be by Saturday to talk details."
"Cakes tomorrow then?"
"... Yeah."
Zoro glances over at you. "You sure you're alright?"
"Yeah, I'm sure. It's just that the thought of food is too much right now." You assure him as your stomach rolls at the idea of cake.
As you direct the car toward the dojo, your mind starts to wander to other things. Most notably the first time you and Zoro had sex. You mentally counted off the time-lapse between then and now and realized on top of it that you were also late. You would've chalked it up to the extreme stress as of late, but alongside the other bits of information dawning on you, you needed to be sure.
"Hmm, you know, can you stop at the corner store on the way home?" You start looking up directions. "I want to get some ginger ale and crackers, might help settle my stomach."
"Sure thing."
You pull into the corner store lot and have Zoro wait for you, promising to just be a few minutes. The place is nearly empty and you grab some ginger ale and soda crackers. Slowing on the way to the register you turn down a different aisle and grab a couple pregnancy tests before paying at the register.
Your nerves bundle in your stomach for a different reason as you get back into the car and Zoro takes you both home.
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quinloki · 1 year
Text
Some Direction
Fem Reader x Roronoa Zoro
CW: Language, stalking, violence, sexual themes and situations, ptsd 18+ only
Chapter 1 - Table of Consent -
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Chapter 22: Double Yellow Line
You groan. Your body is covered in sweat and you're swinging between freezing and burning up. The morning had already been a terrible rush to the bathroom as what little was in your stomach came up.
Zoro had found you leaning against the toilet groaning and now you were on the couch. Sheets layered beneath you and a bucket nearby, you had been taking off and putting on covers as you wanted, in a desperate and futile attempt to find some scrap of comfort.
You were home from the hospital for a couple weeks and had gotten back into living. The series of therapy sessions had been intense, but useful, and both of you had been glad for them at the end of it.
Stress didn't just settle into the mind, however, and after managing a full week of work the stress of everything seemed to crash into you. A temperature of 100.7, a nasty cough, congestion and the inability to hold down anything more than broth was an easy diagnosis.
You had the flu.
Zoro didn't, and your flu-addled brain was quite cross with him about that. But you couldn't really complain, he was practically doting on you. He'd wipe your sweat before it got bad, and helped you take baths. He would rub your face and head to try and relieve some of the pressure or headaches.
"I'm being domesticated." You huff, snuggled into him and watching a movie.
"You're being pampered," Zoro corrects.
"You're enjoying it."
"The pampering part, yeah." His hand was against your forehead. "I don't like the flu part."
"I bet you've never even caught a cold. You or Mihawk. They'd be too intimidated."
"They?"
"Germs."
Zoro laughs after failing to keep it in. "I've had a cold before."
"A. Cold."
"I'm sure it was more than one. I only remember the one."
"I get sick a few times a year."
"You work with the public."
"You have like 150 students."
"No one shows up to practice sick, it's not allowed."
"Meh."
"Want something more than soup?"
"... yeah, I don't feel so queasy today, but I am really hungry."
"That's a good sign."
"What're you gonna cook for me?"
He raises an eyebrow. "Thought you didn't want to be 'domesticated'."
You laugh. "I'm not being domesticated, I'm being pampered." You manage in a hoarse kind of sick person sing-song voice.
"I'll see what I can do," He says, kissing the side of your face and untangling himself from you.
The blankets around you are suddenly cold and you tighten them around yourself before sinking back into the couch. You smile softly to yourself, wondering if all marimos are warm, or if it's just yours.
Mihawk comes in as Zoro's starting to cook and sits near you in the family room. He has a glass of wine, and a notepad with addresses and times on it. He taps the notepad as he talks.
"The venues have all accepted rescheduling." He reports, sitting comfortably.
"Thank you," you smile. "I appreciate all the help, dad."
You catch the small smile on his face at being addressed thus and lean into the blankets a little relieved. You had accidentally called him 'dad' at the hospital and had noticed he seemed displeased when you had reverted to calling him by name.
He was, or inevitably would be, legally a father to you in a few more months. When you called him dad a second time you had caught the barest hint of pink in his ears and decided to roll with it. Like father, like son, neither one seemed to ask much of you, but once you figured them out it was easy to know what they wanted.
You were supposed to look at a few wedding venues with Zoro yesterday and today, but you got sick so suddenly that there hadn't been time to reschedule. You could hardly talk, and Zoro didn't care about the reservations because he was too busy worrying about you.
Thankfully, Mihawk had volunteered to help, and had finished spending the afternoon rescheduling for you. Which meant next week you would be off work again, visiting venues on Monday, catering on Tuesday, cakes on Wednesday, and dresses Thursday. The whole wedding process was exhausting, but you had options to fall back on if nothing caught your interest with the places you were scheduled to visit. So, you shouldn't have to take another week off if things didn't fall into place next week.
Fortunately, despite all that had happened, you weren't at risk of losing your job, but you were starting to think you should just quit. It felt like the Universe wanted you to resign from being a librarian. With everything that had happened in the last three or so months, you also felt like you could happily just not worry about work for at least a year.
"I wonder if I can take a sabbatical." You murmur softly; eyes more focused on the ceiling than anything else.
"You could quit entirely, if you were so inclined." Mihawk says. "You enjoy your work, but the dojo can support a few generations before it would need worry."
Well. That answered that long-standing curiosity of yours rather neatly. It was a little weird to understand just how financially secure you were with a few short words.
"I'll talk to Brook after next week and see." You decide. "Between preparing for the wedding, the actual event, and I'm assuming a honeymoon, I'd be missing so much work that I'd need to take a sabbatical or resign."
"You sound frustrated."
"I'm... not. Not really. I feel like a kid who had chicken pox or something and now I've missed so much school I'm being held back a year." You explain. "It wasn't my fault I got the pox, and no one's berating me for missing a year, but everything else moves ahead regardless. I guess I am, at the least, a little aggravated, but only because I didn't get to make the choice for myself."
"I think I understand."
"Have you ever had a cold, dad?" You ask suddenly, turning to look at Mihawk. You can see surprise and confusion on his face for a few solid seconds, and the sound of Zoro trying not to laugh as he comes around with a plate of food.
. . . . . .
Monday you and Zoro looked at three venues and decided to have the wedding at the dojo. The location was plenty large enough, and Mihawk had offered it as a possibility before you had looked anywhere else. In the end nothing you had looked at compared to the flexibility the dojo offered and converting the actual dojo into a kind of reception space was easy as well. The overly friendly nature of everyone you dealt with for each venue was off-putting as well.
It probably worked well for most couples, but the near mania of the people who kept showing you around their venues just made you think of Usopp, and it was hard to focus on what they were actually saying. Your discomfort became Zoro's discomfort, and that was the end of that.
Tuesday was catering.
"Feeling okay?" Zoro asks for the second time that day.
You nod. You hadn't had much appetite at breakfast and had shrugged it off. You knew you'd be tasting samples all day today, so you weren't worried. He'd asked you if you were okay then, and you had reassured him. Now though, you were concerned you were coming down with a second round of flu.
"I'm fine," you say. "I guess I just don't have much of an appetite today. Some days I can pack away a couple pizzas on my own and still be hungry, other days a glass of water has me feeling full."
He puts his hand on your forehead anyway and his face is covered in concern. His fussing isn't overwhelming, but it's helped break the ice with the lady walking you through your food options. She brightens toward Zoro quickly once she realizes he's not truly perpetually angry.
When you finished with your final appointment, you felt uncomfortably full, and you'd barely eaten enough to try and make any decisions. It was all good, but none of it really stuck out with either of you.
"We could get that bastard to cater for us." Zoro offers, firing the car into life.
"I thought we were inviting Sanji?"
"He'd be more thrilled to cook for everyone." Zoro says, and you believed him.
"Let me text him."
You: hey Sanji, we need someone to cater the big day. Do you cater? Can you do it on xx/xx?
Sanji: I can! I do! I'll make food so delicious even the Marimo won't be able to scowl.
You: alright, when can you come by so we can talk details and cost?
Sanji: Saturday morning, if that works?
You: Should. There'll be a class, but Mihawk can handle it.
"Alright, he'll be by Saturday to talk details."
"Cakes tomorrow then?"
"... Yeah."
Zoro glances over at you. "You sure you're alright?"
"Yeah, I'm sure. It's just that the thought of food is too much right now." You assure him as your stomach rolls at the idea of cake.
As you direct the car toward the dojo, your mind starts to wander to other things. Most notably the first time you and Zoro had sex. You mentally counted off the time-lapse between then and now and realized on top of it that you were also late. You would've chalked it up to the extreme stress as of late, but alongside the other bits of information dawning on you, you needed to be sure.
"Hmm, you know, can you stop at the corner store on the way home?" You start looking up directions. "I want to get some ginger ale and crackers, might help settle my stomach."
"Sure thing."
You pull into the corner store lot and have Zoro wait for you, promising to just be a few minutes. The place is nearly empty and you grab some ginger ale and soda crackers. Slowing on the way to the register you turn down a different aisle and grab a couple pregnancy tests before paying at the register.
Your nerves bundle in your stomach for a different reason as you get back into the car and Zoro takes you both home.
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cottoncandy-cult · 9 months
Text
Rikio Kamamoto X Reader
Reader is Kusanagi's little sister, I know a lot of people didn't care for project K. I understand it can be confusing, especially since if you want to watch it chronologically you have to watch a handful of movies before the series. I grieved so hard for Mikoto, my sweet fallen king.~ I blame the gold king with everything in my heart, he should have never brought the Dresden slate to light. It was a shameless power move that cost the life of so many kings because of how it affects them. Silver King should have done more to stop it, instead he hid himself in the sky and ran from his problems. Thankfully he made the right call in the end, even if it was a bit too late in my opinion.
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(Y/n) smiled with a soft blush, approaching Kamamoto with a bag of chips in hand. The two were good friends, though the slightly younger girl wanted to be more than friends with her big brother's friend. Today she wore her favorite outfit, it was a (F/c) off the shoulder top as well as a pair of (F/c) short shorts. She was hoping to catch the male's attention, so far Yata had moved to the far side of the bar and was a blushing mess. The man on the couch with her brother and her king hadn't noticed her yet, she wasn't sure what they were talking about. She walked around to his side, the conversation seeming to lull a bit. "Hey Riki, Munoko came out with a new chip flavor it's (F/f)." Her voice was cheery, a soft pink covered her cheeks as she brushed some of her hair behind her ear as her free handheld up the bag. "Awesome, thanks (Y/n)!" He smiled sweetly as she handed him the bag, her blush deepening when their fingers touched. Mikoto had noticed and chuckled, Kusanagi was his best friend, so she was like his little sister as well since they had been friends long before he became the red king.
"Hey (Y/n), can you go in the backroom for me and count the wine bottles? I need to make sure we have enough until the next shipment." This was Kusanagi, the girl gave her big brother a sweet smile and nodded. "Ok bubba, I'll be right back." The king and the bar tender smiled and chuckled as she ran off, the giant teddy bear was too busy eating. Kusanagi had known of (Y/n)'s crush on Kamamoto for several years now, she had been trying to get the male's attention since he joined. "You know, (Y/n) really likes ya Rikio." Mikoto's low voice rumbled, catching the attention of the aforementioned male. Kamamoto had turned his full attention to his king, tilting his head slightly. "Well, we are friends. So, I'd hope that she liked me." The blonde had liked (Y/n) quite a bit but thought she was out of reach because of his weight, he was rather heavy set, and she was gorgeous.
Kusanagi chuckled, lighting a cigarette before glancing to Mikoto and back to Kamamoto. "No, he's right, (Y/n)'s had a crush on you since you got here. The girl is hopelessly in love with you, she's been trying for years to get your attention." Kusanagi nudged the blonde, he was fine with her being with Rikio. He knew the blonde wouldn't hurt her on purpose, plus he'd prefer it be someone in the red clan so he could keep an eye on them. "Well, I mean, she just seems out of my league. Your little sister is beautiful, have ya seen me? She'd be more interested in someone like Mister Mikoto or even Yata." He huffed a bit, eating some more of the chips as he thought about it.
He did like her, but what if they were wrong? He didn't want to make things awkward, after all they had to see each other every day. He huffed once more, though he lightened up a little when he noticed her making her way over with a paper. "Here you go bubba, I wrote down the numbers and what they were." She stopped at the side of the coffee table that sat between the couches, all 3 guys sitting there. "Thanks, I'll go log it." Kusanagi got up and went towards the bar, Mikoto stretched out on his couch and closed his eyes. (Y/n) smiled and sat beside Kamamoto, blushing softly as she looked down. "So how do they taste?" Kamamoto looked at her a moment and then down at the chips, humming softly. "They're pretty good, try some." He held the bag up to her, her cheeks darkening as she grabbed a chip and took a bite. Humming in delight at the taste, she missed the blush that grew on his cheeks.
"Hey (Y/n), can I ask you something?" He looked away, placing the bag down on the coffee table, the girl focusing on him as she nodded. "Of course, is something on your mind." Kamamoto had gone quiet a moment before turning towards her, looking at her a few seconds before he spoke. "What do you think of me?" His question caught her off guard, she needed a minute to think. The blonde didn't miss the deep red covering her cheeks, but he gave her time to think. "Uh... Well, I think a lot about you...! That's not what I meant; I mean I think highly of you!" She could die at the moment, looking to the side. "You're really nice, you have a great personality and are really caring." She fidgeted a bit, taking a deep breath. Kamamoto was blushing at this point.
He had turned to face her, but before he could say anything (Y/n) had placed a gentle kiss on his cheek before she looked down and began twiddling her thumbs. This made Rikio smile, his hand reaching over and gently holding hers. Neither had noticed Kusanagi watching from the bar, both forgot about Mikoto right across from them. They also missed how the male sat up to light a cigarette, Anna joining him to observe the quiet scene that was missed by most everyone else. (Y/n) smiled and gave his hand a squeeze, leaning against his shoulder and enjoying the moment. Nothing had to be said, Mikoto simply gave a silent smile before standing and leading Anna off somewhere. Likely to find Tatara and go get ice cream.
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angelistic11 · 2 years
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Logan Lerman Is Learning to Love Hollywood
This is Logan Lerman’s first feature interview in almost two years. For an actor of his prominence and caliber, that’s a rarity. But despite almost two decades of playing leading roles in box office hits like the Percy Jackson & the Olympians film franchise and The Perks of Being a Wallflower, Lerman finds the act of promotion, specifically talking about himself, extremely off-putting. It’s one of the main reasons he can’t stand Hollywood. And it’s also why our conversation feels so refreshingly earnest. “Oftentimes, you look at the trades and see announcements for projects, and it’s all in vain,” Lerman tells me during a phone call from his West Hollywood home. “It’s just people trying to get attention for themselves and the projects aren’t real. And I don’t want to be that guy. I feel like I’m much quieter about the things I’m working on. That’s the way I like it.” That might explain why the public hasn’t seen Lerman in a major motion picture for almost 10 years. In this time, he’s maintained consistent work as a producer, but he’s wary to discuss anything coming down the line in detail. (“You never know if anything’s going to actually get made, never know if things are going to pan out,” he says, “And a million things can go wrong.”) Thankfully for Lerman, his long game of committing to the craft continues to pay off. Coming off of a movie premiere for his role inBullet Train, the second season of the Jordan Peele -produced series Hunters, and a calendar stacked with possible projects, life is relatively good for the tenured Hollywood actor. When it’s all said and done, he feels “great,” back at home in WeHo. The reason he finds himself back in his hometown of Los Angeles after a seven-year stint in New York City is a relatable one: he moved during the Covid-19 pandemic. Finding himself “trapped” during a visit metamorphosed into a second act in L.A., one that consisted of hiking, going to the beach with friends, and having the solace to sit down and develop new projects. But the list of reasons he’s happy to be back on the West Coast is accompanied by an even longer list of reasons he can’t stand his hometown, especially the culture the film industry has cultivated within it. “Everyone’s wrapped up in everyone else’s wants and puts this pressure on everyone to continue being in some conversation,” he says. “You have this desperate desire to be relevant.” Aware of the cynicism, he’s been working on shifting his perspective about the city, and finding new ways to appreciate it. “I’m lucky, though, that now, I have a really happy home and good lifestyle,” he adds.
Two years of few box office opportunities and very little work grounded Lerman back into a place of understanding why not everyone cannot take “risks” and “sacrifices.” Unless, of course, Brad Pitt’s on the line. “Brad Pitt is the only person who could justify a studio making a movie during a pandemic,” Lerman says. Along with corralling Joey King, Bad Bunny, Aaron Taylor Johnson, and Brian Tyree Henry, we can thank Pitt for Lerman’s role in the new movie Bullet Train —even if it is a small one. “I know Brad and I’ve been friends with him for years and love him,” Lerman says. So when the Hollywood mogul called him up in the middle of the pandemic, he couldn’t resist joining the project. “It was nice to have an excuse to go to work when nobody was really working. I was really lucky to be doing that,” he says. An action comedy in which five assassins battle each other on a Japanese bullet train, Lerman plays the son of White Death (Michael Shannon) whose unexpected murder along the ride results in a Weekend at Bernie’s -esque scheme by Tangerine (Aaron Taylor-Johnson) and Lemon (Brian Tyree Henry) to create the illusion that he is still alive.
He considered his time on set as a chance to “observe” the best in the business. “They’re doing the most exciting things with fight choreography, and to see them create these dances of sorts in such a tight space…[plus,] the beats of humor throughout the fight sequences are exceptionally well-crafted,” he says. Outside of this,Lermandoes not want anyone to assume that this is in any way more than just a guy doing some friends a favor. And that’s how he talks about all of his past works, big or small. His last lead as Charlie in The Perks of Being a Wallflower,the 2012 film adaptation of Stephen Chbosky’s book of the same name, had an impact on the zeitgeist of the late aughts, causing Lerman to rise to relevance simultaneously with the first iterations of social media. From Charlie riding through a tunnel in the bed of a truck to David Bowie’s Heroes, to gifs of him telling the manic pixie girl of his dreams, Sam (played byEmma Watson), “We accept the love we think we deserve,” images and videos of Lerman were reshared across Internet dashboards worldwide for years. He became the face of a generation expressing their adolescent angst in completely new ways. Even as social media has evolved, the relevance of Lerman’s impact has just been readapted to fit new platforms. On TikTok, both Perks and Lerman pop up in conversations around nostalgia and core memories (along with how he remains a major heartthrob thanks, in part, to his girlfriend Ana Corrigan’s social presence, and the content she posts of the two of them). It’s why the film remains one of Lerman’s fondest works, and, he says, is the kind of role that drives him. “That is a really special feeling, to be a part of something and know that it’s had a big impact on someone's life," he says. “I guess that’s the bar an actor hopes to reach: making something that means a lot to someone else.”
An executive producer on a few independent projects, Lerman is privy to the backend of getting a project off the ground. At the root, the biggest obstacle is, more often than not, money: both in creating the film and the reward financiers will see when it hits the box office. This is Lerman’s biggest gripe with the industry, merely because he doesn’t agree with it. He emphasizes more than once the value of independent films, unique storytelling, and how difficult it is to be heard in all the noise of the entertainment industry’s constantly shifting landscape. “It’s the most important side of the culture that I care about so much,” he says, “Seeing films in theaters, seeing original films get made, seeing new voices attract the financing to get their movies made.” But he would be remiss to remain cynical about it, especially during a time when independent filmmakers are taking risks that have been received with overwhelming praise. He points to Everything Everywhere All At Once, the Daniels film starring Michelle Yeoh, Stephanie Hsu, Jamie Lee Curtis, and Ke Hu Quan made with an independent film budget which received surmounting success. “[Viewers] want bolder choices,” he says. “They want new visions. They’re craving something new. I’m craving something.”
This enthusiasm for the future of film is infectious—so much so that I can’t imagine anyone rejecting an actor with a résumé of his caliber. Stepping into the spotlight at age 8 in The Patriot, followed by consecutive years as the lead in films like Hoot (which has a young Brie Larson), Stuck in Love, and The Three Musketeers, his credibility in Hollywood is unwavering. But rather than assuming everyone is familiar with his past projects, he approaches the conversation as if you’ve probably never heard of them. This humility feels like a mental tactic, one which helps him separate his identity from mega-movie star to, simply, an actor. It does not present itself in a pretentious manner—instead, it’s an evolution as a result of a lifetime of experience. “There are a lot of pressures here that are unique to Hollywood,” he continues. “I’ve had too much time to observe it. I’ve been trying to approach it with fresh eyes now.” The appreciation and sense of humility Lerman carries was something he had to learn and continues to work on. “You can’t avoid it. It’s just about recognizing it and keeping your values in line,” he says. In an industry known to absorb and destroy young talent, his approach to his work feels like a form of self-preservation. It’s also a relief to know that a person who’s had such an impact on late-aughts kids is doing alright. “Early on, it was harder for me to appreciate things,” he says. “I was too wrapped up in the newness of all of it, the newness of the entire experience of making things and being a part of things, and impacting people. But now I’m in a place where I try to enjoy it more: the entire process of being in a production and the release of it, and the impact it’s had on people.”
While the possibility of leading in a major motion film in the near future isn’t out of the question, Lerman is just fine where he is: knee-deep in preparation for the first of a slate of projects he'd begun working on during lockdown. It’s his favorite part of the process. “It’s been a really long journey, a long road so far,” he adds.“I’ve always loved it and it’s always been a passion of mine. Even though I've been doing it for so long, I still feel like I’ve just started, in a way.”
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dragonbinx · 1 year
Text
Home for the Holidays
Part of my Christmas series from last winter.  Posted on Ao3 here.
Series: Wynonna Earp
Ship: Wayhaught
Characters: Nicole Haught, Waverly Earp, Rachel Valdez, Wynonna Earp
When the homestead first started turning into a winter wonderland, Nicole didn’t think much of it. Waverly was nothing if not enthusiastic about … well, most things, and Christmas in particular. If the decorations started going above and beyond even their usual epic proportions, well, it was Waverly, and they had a teenager in the house, and friends to host on Christmas Eve, and it was Waverly. So sure, she wasn’t sure when they got festive sheets on their bed, and the blustering wind definitely made the increase in outdoor decorations, including the waving Santa Claus, more precarious than Nicole would’ve liked.
But it wasn’t a big deal. Nothing to worry about. At first.
The closer to Christmas it got, the more enthusiastic Waverly got. Their kitchen was already filled to the brim with various holiday treats, enough that they were starting to get stored in the family room, too. Waverly had gotten mini-trees for their room and Rachel’s, and decorated them in themes; nutcrackers for her and Nicole, and reindeer for Rachel. And she was trying to get them to do Christmas activities. There was a movie marathon, then the themed trivia night at Shorty’s, and then there was the night she has them drive around town to look at the few houses that had lights up together.
It came to a head on the eighteenth of December, when Rachel slammed a box of hot chocolate in front of Nicole. “You have to fix this,” she said urgently, her eyes bugging out of her head.
“Um, I have to fix hot chocolate? Why?”
“Waverly got rid of all my kombucha and she’s been pushing this on me. And cider, which, you know, fine, but eggnog too! My room looks like Santa’s workshop, she’s making me wear this,” she tugged on her sweater, which had a several candy canes stitched on it, “and she’s pushing cookies on me every time she sees me. It’s getting weird.”
“Oh, come on, it’s not that bad. Waverly makes great cookies.”
Rachel narrowed her eyes and stuck her chin out in challenge. “Uh-huh. She wants us to go caroling.”
“I don’t want to do that,” Nicole admitted, a sudden sour taste in her mouth at the thought of going around and singing to all her constituents, who mostly tolerated her on the best days.
“And she said when she’s done here, she’s going to start decorating your office. She said it wasn’t festive enough.” Nicole gulped and, likely sensing her weakness, Rachel delivered the killing blow. “You know that Santa that plays Jingle Bell Rock every time you walk past it? She said she wants to get one for you. She thinks they’re funny.”
Nicole was just as bug-eyed now. “Right, okay, I will talk to her.”
“Good. Do it soon. And I want my kombucha back!” With that, Rachel huffed off to her room, leaving Nicole with the dilemma of how to ask her wife why she was being too excited about Christmas.
*
Two more days passed as Nicole grappled with how to bring up the subject. It didn’t help that it seemed like Waverly couldn’t sit still. She’d thankfully put her plans for the station on hold; unfortunately it seemed like it was so she could turn her attention to Shorty’s, much to Nedley’s distress. The bar now had poinsettias all over to “brighten up the place” and she’d replaced the tap handles with little Santa Clauses.
Finally, Nicole caught her in the kitchen first thing in the morning, humming to herself as she rolled out a block of brown dough. “What are you doing?”
“Oh, hi, sweetie pie!” She greeted cheerfully, dusting the top of the dough with flour. “I’m making some more gingerbread cookies. You can never have enough, you know.”
“You’ve made, like, six dozen gingerbread cookies already. That’s definitely enough.”
Waverly's smile was so wide it almost looked painful. “But these ones are for Nedley! Look, I found this little beer mug cookie cutter. Isn’t it so cute?”
She held it up for Nicole to admire, and she had to admit, “Yes, it is very cute. But I don’t think Nedley really wants more gingerbread cookies, since we already gave him a box of them and all. I think … I think maybe we need to talk.”
The smile dropped off Waverly’s face, and she turned back to her dough. “Talk about what?”
“I don’t know, but there’s obviously something. You’re on some kind of Christmas spree.”
“I’ve always loved Christmas, you know that.” She sprinkled more flour on the dough, to the point that Nicole could barely see the dough anymore.
“Yeah, but it’s more than that. You’re obsessed.” She squinted down at her wife. “Wait, this isn’t a possession thing, is it? Like some weird holiday ghost or whatever?”
“Of course not. And I’m just excited for Christmas,” Waverly insisted, reaching for the rolling pin. Nicole saw her opportunity and grabbed the pin first. “Hey!” Waverly tried to take it back, so she held it up high over her head, and after one very adorable attempt to jump up and get it, Waverly settled on glaring at her instead. “Nicole, give it back.”
“Not until you talk to me,” she insisted, holding the rolling pin aloft and giving her best Sheriff Haught serious business expression.
Waverly crossed her arms and her face pinched together. “Fine. I miss, Wynonna, okay?”
Nicole tilted her head, confused. “Okay. I get that. But she’ll be home in a couple days.”
“She said she was coming back before the end of the summer. And then she said she’d stop by for Halloween.” Waverly sighed. “She left before, Nicole. She took a really long time to come back. What if she doesn’t … what if …” She broke off, blinking rapidly.
“Oh, Waverly.” The arm holding the rolling pin slowly lowered as she realized that this had been eating at Waverly for months, and she’d missed it.
“It’s stupid. I know she’ll come back. I mean, she literally has to, she’s the heir. We’re gonna need her some point.” Waverly dashed tears from her eyes. “But I don’t want her to just have to come here. I want her to want to come here, y’know?”
“You mean you want her to want to come back for you,” Nicole translated gently.
She shrugged, eyes downcast. “Is that so wrong?”
“No, of course not. Come here.” She finally put down the rolling pin and pulled Waverly into her arms, cradling her gently. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”
“I should have told you,” Waverly admitted, laying her head on Nicole’s chest. “It’s just so silly. I don’t want to be worried about this. I shouldn’t be worried about it.”
“Hey, it totally makes sense. Wynonna is absolutely going to come back, but I get it. She has priors.”
Waverly laughed shakily, but didn’t disagree.
“Do you want to make more cookies?”
“Maybe. But not right now.” Waverly sunk into the hug, nuzzling her nose into Nicole’s skin, and Nicole laid her cheek on the top of her head, and they stood there for long minutes, holding each other in their kitchen.
*
On Christmas Eve, there was still no sign of the wayward sister, but the preparations for their Christmas party went forward anyway. Rachel was helping Nedley and Billy fix some bulbs that had burned out on the garland out front, still clearly weary of being left alone with Waverly too long. Jeremy was on his way, and Mercedes had said she’d try to stop by later.
Waverly and Nicole were sorting out the food, which Waverly finally admitted she’d made too much of. “I don’t know what I was thinking,” she said, staring at the rows of festive treats, far too much for the six to nine people they were expecting. “We could feed an army, if an army ate chocolate dipped pretzels with red and green sprinkles.”
“Maybe we’ll send Jeremy home with some stuff, he’s kinda got an army.” Nicole made a face as she sipped the eggnog. “Did you not make any with alcohol?”
“Rachel and Billy can’t have boozy eggnog, so I skipped it.”
“Baby, nobody wants eggnog if it’s not spiked.”
“Well, it’s a good thing I’m here then. I brought rum.”
Waverly’s mouth dropped into a perfect little ‘o.’ She turned slowly, and Nicole could just see her profile as her face lit up at the sight of her sister, standing at the front door with a liquor bottle in her hand. “Wynonna!”
She ran down the hall and threw herself in her sister’s arms, sending her stumbling back a few steps. “Hey, you’re gonna make me drop the booze,” Wynonna complained, even as she clutched Waverly tight.
“Shut up,” Waverly said, voice muffled by Wynonna’s sweater.
“Well, it’s better than the shotgun I got the last time I came back to town,” Wynonna allowed. “Merry Christmas, baby girl.”
“Merry Christmas, Wynonna.” Nicole greeted, when it was clear Waverly was too overcome to say anything else.
“Ginger bitch!” Wynonna dragged herself away from her little sister to give her a hug with the arm not holding the alcohol. “I missed you.”
“Missed you, too.” She frowned as they pulled away. “Wait, where’s Doc?”
“Jeremy pulled up at the same time that we did.”
“Ah.”
“Yeah, they’re gonna be a minute.” She turned back to Waverly and her smile softened. “And we brought someone to meet you.”
Waverly frowned. “What are you …”
The door opened, and Waverly’s half-formed question was answered when Doc came walked in, Jeremy hanging off of him on one side, while in the opposite arm he held a little dark haired girl. “Hello, Waverly, Sheriff Haught. Merry Christmas to you both.” He hitched the little girl up and smiled down at her. “I’d like you to reintroduce you to your niece.”
*
It turned out that Alice was the reason Wynonna hadn’t been back for a while. She and Doc had been easing into a relationship with their daughter, and Wynonna had freaked out and clammed up instead of talking to Waverly about it. Which wasn’t that surprising, honestly.
Waverly filled Nicole in as they stood together in the doorway to the kitchen, removed enough from the party to talk. “She says that they don’t want her to be here too much. Not while she’s so young. And Doc’s not ready to be back, anyway.”
“Makes sense,” she replied, not adding anything about how annoyed she was at the two of them for not letting Waverly know the real reason her sister had stayed away. She’d seen the animated conversation between the sisters on the porch through the window, and she was pretty sure Waverly had pushed Wynonna into a post at one point. Probably Waverly had already let Wynonna know herself how crappy her handling of the situation had been. No need to pile on. At least not while it was still Christmas,
“So, yeah. They’ll probably stay through New Year’s and then take her back to Montana.”
“Maybe you should go with them.”
Waverly frowned. “Nicole, what …”
“Just for a little while. I’m pledged to stay here, not you, and I know there’s a lot out there you want to see.” Nicole picked up her hand and kissed the back of it sweetly. “You deserve to have an adventure or two outside of Purgatory. You can take Rachel, have mother-daughter and aunt-niece bonding time. Maybe look at colleges, we’re really behind on that stuff.”
Waverly pulled Nicole’s hand to her heart and held it with both of hers, smiling sweetly up at her. “You, Nicole Rayleigh Haught, are the best wife in the world. And I maybe I will go traveling with Wynonna one day. But right now I’m pretty darn happy being here with you. Okay?”
Nicole smiled, big and sappy. “Okay,” she agreed, before bending down to kiss Waverly.
“Keep it in your pants, Haught!” Wynonna bellowed from the coach.
Waverly rested her head against NIcole’s and sighed. “That I didn’t miss.”
She giggled and stole one last quick kiss. “Merry Christmas, Waverly Earp.”
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theangelyouknew · 2 years
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So, I want to talk about my weird experience with Harry Potter. Why it’s specifically weird for me to think about the franchise these days.
I’ll start out with JK Rowling is transphobic trash. Get that out of the way.
Ever since these damn books came out, I’ve never been allowed to really experience these books in my own way. Not entirely. Yes, they shaped my teens, but not in the way I think a lot of people see it.
My grandma got me the books against my will for Christmas. I had zero interest in them. My other grandparents were visiting that summer (the summer between 8th and 9th grade) and my stepmom, who wanted to read the books herself? Got mad that I still hadn’t read them. She said she couldn’t read them until I did because they were mine. So I was grounded until I read them.
Again. My other grandparents were visiting from out of state. I was grounded until I read these books. There were 3 of them at the time. I read them as fast as I could. I think it took me like 3 days. I concentrated so hard despite my ADHD that I made myself sick from lack of eating. Cuz I wanted to see my grandparents. Thankfully the books held my interest or it would have been pure torture.
That’s one direction I was pulled into.
That fall, I, who had no friends, was invited to go to a school mate’s church. I had been going for a month or so when they told me Harry Potter is evil. I had to get rid of the books.
I asked my stepmom if I could get rid of the books church didn’t like. When she asked what books, I said “Harry Potter.” She flipped the fuck out. Said if I got rid of them I wouldn’t be allowed to go to church ever again. I had to compromise and put my books in a box under my bed and just not touch them if I really didn’t want to read them.
That’s another direction I was pulled in regards to Harry Potter.
So I have these books in my room making me feel guilty at church. The movie comes out. I have to go see it with the family. The entire time, I’m praying god won’t send me to hell cuz I still got the church in my ear telling me how bad Harry Potter is. My parents get the movie when it’s on idk if it was dvd yet or still vhs honestly by that time, but I remember sitting in the living room to “rewatch” it and just staring out the window bc I can’t enjoy it. Thanks god.
I spent years with her vs the church in my head. Both were wrong. But ultimately the church kicked me out when I turned 18, and I lived with her so it was easy to enjoy it. Besides; i was a huge alan rickman fan so, hell yeah Snape.
So this franchise was shoved down my throat and simultaneously vilified during some of my most life altering years of my life.
I don’t remember what my favorite color was BEFORE Harry Potter. But I can tell you now, it’s green. But if you look at everything I do, i instinctively gravitate towards blues. Blue car. Blue bike. Blue hair (ok that changes often), blue WEDDING DRESS, but if you ask me I always say green. For slytherin. But is green my favorite color? I don’t know. Most people around me assumes it’s blue.
If I had never been forced to read Harry Potter, would I have cared about it? Turned it into part of my personality? Honestly I doubt it. I mean I might have watched the movies eventually, but I wouldn’t have gotten so attached. Cuz it wouldn’t have mattered.
If I hadn’t I’d the church trying to pry it away from me would i feel the way do now? Probably not. It’d just be another book series. I might not have had my stepmom freak out and force it harder down my throat. Idk.
Both these scenarios were WRONG and extreme. And frustrating to think about now. And because JK is trash, with harmful world views, I’m being told once again how to feel about the books and world this garbage queen wrote.
And it wouldn’t be so hard to let go a book series if it wasn’t put on such weird pedestals in my life to begin with. It’s just a book series. It’s not a fucking life style. The story itself not a moral right or wrong. (The author is, don’t give her money fuck her) but at the end of the day the books themselves are dime a dozen at thrift shops and shit.
Also if you have kids and they don’t want to read a book, don’t force it. Holy hell.
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absentcaryatid · 2 years
Text
San's Drama
An ATEEZ fanfic by AbsentCaryatid
Part 3 in the ATEEZ Dreams Series
More important than obtaining his dream role, San finds love on set thanks to some help from his members.
1.5K words, Content note: all ages, gender neutral reader, no pronouns for reader, food mention
~
You were Yunho's co-star playing his love interest on the latest Spider-Man film. Even as careful as you had been about visiting his dorm, the press still got wind and had captured pictures of your arrival and exit, thankfully during daylight hours. While it was true you had developed a crush on a member of ATEEZ, it was not your current colleague. Truly you viewed Yunho in a sweet, brotherly role, and it was a good thing his partner knew that as well given the rumors. Instead, the whole team saw the way your eyes always found San, and the accompanying smile that would break out in his presence.
San was another actor you had worked with in the past. There had been a few scenes together in a drama early in your career when San was fresh off his work as Min Su in Imitation. You had come to like a lot of what you saw in the man who had made singing and dancing his primary career. Dating another actor then, you had soon broken it off after realizing they were not the best person for you. By the time you were disentangled, the drama filming was wrapped up and San out of your life. Not knowing if the interest was mutual, you had never worked up the courage to contact the kind and gentle man afterward. Life went on, but San remained on your mind, and to be truthful, in your heart as well.
It was with great excitement that you had snagged the plum role of MJ to Yunho's Spider-Man making the leap from television drama to cinema. ATEEZ provided a song for the soundtrack and made a cameo appearance in the movie. Although you adored their music, the delightful day shooting that scene was remembered more for your reunion with San than meeting the rest of the members for the first time.
On the lunch break Yunho had invited you to sit with his friends and you were given a warm welcome from the bunch. San's encouragement to take the place at his side made your heart skip a beat but being a good actor, you felt it was covered successfully. Once you knew the guys better, they admitted to observing from that very first day how into each other you two were as you laughed and shared bites from the catering spread.
Fortunately for your developing friendship, San had been the one to give you his number thanks to some encouragement from Wooyoung. When conversation over lunch had turned to upcoming projects you had mentioned wanting to get back to drama roles when the movie concluded.
San disclosed he was newly booked on a love story set in the Joseon era. “I am the second male lead, and they are still looking for my love interest. I can easily see you in the role.” The way his face flushed as he realized how forward that sounded only made him all the more adorable in your eyes. Moving on quickly San added, “IU will be in it as the female lead and you could play her friend. P.O said she was lovely to work with on Hotel Del Luna and Zico said the same of their collaboration on his 'SoulMate' video.”
Impressing the group with your own music knowledge, you dropped some trivia they were unaware of despite sharing a label with Zico in the past. “They worked together before too. Zico has known IU since they were young, and he even rapped on her song 'Marshmallow' before he debuted with Block B.”
Hongjoong looked thoughtful then asked, “So, you have an interest in the music industry?”
“Just a good memory. I watch a lot of Knowing Bros in my down time on set and learn a lot about idols that way.” Nodding to Yunho, you mentioned he had also become a great source of information about your favorite group. Looking directly at San you then commented, “He even answered my intrusive question about who among you was single.” Now it was your turn to feel your face heat as you heard Wooyoung cackle from down the table.  
“He told you I'm free, right?” Wooyoung then put up his hands after Seonghwa shook his head at him with a meaningful look. Chastened, Wooyoung updated, “Nope, I'm not available after all.”
Gathering courage, you mentioned you had been interested in the Joseon project until seeing horseback riding was expected of the leads. “That is not something I have experience in so unless they heavily wanted to swap in a stunt person, the role is not for me, as much as I would love to play your paramour, San.” Your regret was genuine. While filming a movie with Yunho had been fun, television dramas were where you felt at home and you wanted nothing more than to return to that medium playing San's lover.
Yeosang, the quietest of the men so far, helpfully reminded the group San had taught them the basics of riding for one of their music videos.
“That is right,” Mingi confirmed. “I was afraid of horses until San gently introduced us to the most docile horses at the stable where he had learned for one of his dramas.”  
With a softer heart than he tended to show outside ballad singing, even the sometimes stoic Jongho joined in the sales pitch for San's teaching skill to bring you two together. “We have a break coming up and I bet San could be persuaded to become a horseback riding instructor again.”
Before San could demur due to modesty, you immediately agreed lessons were worth a try to snag such a desirable role. “I'm not expecting you to do it, I can always hire....”
Interrupting your sentence, San eagerly offered his services. The joyful look on both your faces sealed the deal and within the week you had a morning date for your first introduction to the sport. Riding practice and a private lunch to follow on days you were not needed on the Spider-Man set became a habit fit in around San's time off. After multiple pleasant days together, he pronounced you ready to present yourself as a competent rider fit for the role in his drama.  
San claimed it was your high profile due to movie work that landed you the role, but you gave far more weight to San's lessons and the good word he apparently put in with the producers. If he felt he could convincingly play your boyfriend it would undoubtedly show on screen and time proved him right. By the time you and San had won the couple of the year award for your drama characters, you took the opportunity to make the public announcement of being partners in real life by that point. ATINY and your own fans took it well, with many being openly supportive of the pairing and your future together.
The reveal was not a complete surprise. For some time San had been hinting about a successful romantic relationship after reading so many comments about how happy he had looked recently. The observation was true. He had more energy these days, seemed calmer, and even had a glow about him, and San attributed these things to your doting presence in his life. There was also one more thing he had going for him. Using your contacts made through Spider-Man, you had returned the casting favor to San to make one more of his dreams come true.
You stepped out of the limousine after Yunho and his partner who were looking glamorous in evening wear for the world premiere of Yunho's Spider-Man. San emerged next and took your waist to escort you inside the theater. As good as Yunho looked dressed up, you only had eyes for San who looked like a movie star in his own right thanks to the wardrobe department and stylists at KQ Entertainment.  
While the credits rolled you heard appreciative murmurs for your acting and Yunho's while you both basked in a standing ovation. This was not the highlight of your night, however. That came next as the theater hushed once more for the final scene. In your role as MJ you were seen to answer the door and talk to a caped man with dark hair. “Peter isn't available right now, but you can come in and wait, Mister...?”
The camera cut to your back and the face of the actor appeared as San delivered the line. “It is Doctor, and I will come in, thank you.”
The words, “Coming next, the return of Doctor Strange” scrolled across the screen as a cheer went up in the audience. San's role in the upcoming movie had been kept a secret from all but the few people who filmed the teaser. In no time at all ATINY would be buzzing with the news of another member of ATEEZ taking on a popular movie character.
You looked at your boyfriend and he looked at you adoringly in return. Holding his hand, you included San in the final bows you and Yunho took. Tonight, San was your date and partner, but there was another secret still held by you two. By the time of his Doctor Strange premiere in the coming year, you would be attending as his beloved spouse, and you looked forward to that most of all.
~
On to part 4 in the ATEEZ Dreams series: Yeosang’s Crush
Masterlist
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zaffreberries · 4 months
Text
Maybe magic is real, just not in the way we think would be. Maybe it’s something more personal, something more intimate. Something inside that you can’t see, but only feel. Something that changes the whole world without ever touching anything but you.
It started whilst I was on holiday. It was a hot summer in a place that was warmer than I was used to so I took shelter from the heat in the holiday cabin we were staying in. I had nothing to do and only a single book to read. It was Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban. I started reading it before I realised it was the third book in the series and endeavoured to finally sit down and read it all and learn what all the fuss was about. My curiosity had been piqued though and I needed to scratch that itch. Thus a small spark of chance would ignite the hungry flames of my imagination forever more.
I had come late to the Harry Potter Fandom. I started reading the first book when I got back from holidays and I couldn’t stop. Thankfully my lateness allowed me to indulge in as much as I could manage and before long I had already caught up. I wasn’t much for the internet, and so I barely interacted with anyone else in regards to Harry Potter, there was just me and this shifting paradigm occurring inside. It wasn’t a complete shift, But it was enough. I never forgot the enjoyment I had from reading that series. The excitement, the feelings. It left me with a want for more, it made me feel actual emotions reading the books. Maybe there would be more magic hiding out there just waiting for me to read. Maybe books weren’t so boring after all.
I remember doing chores whilst The prisoner of Azkaban played in the background, the movie swiftly becoming a comfort video for me. I remember playing the old Harry Potter game so much I can never read “Flipendo” without immediately hearing it said like in the game. I remember getting sorted into Ravenclaw when i finally took the quiz on Pottermore. I remember seeing people dressed up in cosplay and getting excited because I wasn’t the only one who loved this magical world. When the Hogwarts House anniversary editions came out I had to get all the Ravenclaw ones. I have the whole set proudly displayed on my book case. I smile inside when I look at them. I had such wonder and happiness in my own little world all thanks to this one series.
It wasn’t long before I started branching out, searching for other books that might contain more magic. Some did, many didn’t. Some were enjoyable, others became slogs but few ever had that same effect on me as Harry Potter did. The girl with the Dragon Tattoo, Fourth Wing, the Raven Cycle, Song of Achilles and Circe. I found more magic contained in the ink on their pages and I read them as if I were drowning and they were air. Most books are enjoyable, but every now and then a book is so much more than what it seems. Even as I continue to read what I can I always somehow end up drifting back to where it started. It’s as if it were a cozy home and I have gone on a holiday to someplace new and exciting and had come back to rest and recuperate before heading off again.
times have changed. Between the scandal of the Author’s comments and the awkwardness of the later movies the Harry Potter fandom has fallen from its lofty heights. It is no longer the star it once was. For me though it’s still a comfort, like an old favourite jacket that immediately feels cozy when you put it on again, I’ll keep coming back to it, putting on that jacket, not just to be warm, but sometimes just for the familiarity of it. There are rumours of a new tv series being made. Maybe they’ll be able to recapture the magic of the movies. The game brushed close but audience’s are more fickle than before. The court of public opinion is far less forgiving than in ages past and it’s attention shifts fast. Hopefully it does well. Hopefully it allows others to experience the same magic I felt when I discovered this world. Maybe others will feel that little magic when they read it, maybe more little sparks will ignite inside people when they read the books or watch the movies. Maybe it is something else that will be the catalyst for their transformation. Maybe it’s another book that holds the spell that unlocks their imagination and sets them on a path of discovery and wonder, that’ll comfort them in on sad days, that’ll feed their soul the right thing at the right time to make it shine just a little brighter ever after.
This series, It’s given me so much, it opened my eyes to a whole new world of magic and was the start of my enduring love of reading. I’m happy that I took a chance one hot summer. I’m glad that one book was able to show me that magic is real. And I truly hope that others are able to find that same magic waiting in between the pages of a book, bound in ink just waiting to change your world.
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chowyunnafat · 2 years
Text
Le Grand Bleu (Part 1)
le grand bleu (part 1) 💙
Summary: Jannine is a house sitter for a nameless individual who’s often away, abroad. One day, while looking for a flashlight, she finds a stack of letters addressed to an individual named “Sifa” from a guy named “Kunpimook”. The more she reads the letters, the more affection she feels towards the sender. Once she meets the house owner and is relieved of her house-sitting duties, she goes in search of “Kunpimook”, and sees whether or not he really left the land of the living.
alt. title: everyday is like friday
thuk wan k hemuxn wan sukr
ทุกวันก็เหมือนวันศุกร์
Pairing: BamBam (GOT7) x Ploychompoo (Jannine Weigel)
Genre: series | enemies to lovers au | angst | fluff
Warnings: depression, self-loathing, angst, enemies to lovers, toxic friendship, mind games, bullying, choppy thai romanization, and implications that come with severe depression.
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•••
Dear Sifa,
I’m not sure what I should say to you. Maybe, you already know what I’m gonna say because you always said you could read me like an “open book.”
So, I’ll start off with being as honest as I can be.
Was I not good enough? Is that why you never wanted to actually consider being with me for a change? If you could only see me as a friend, I could get over that. Especially, since I’d still want you a part of my life.
But no. What actually happened is you decided to get with my best friend and never tell me I never had a chance with you from the start.
I’m not sure if I’m really even mad at you. I guess, my question is, are we still friends?
If not, would you care if I was to leave this world?
Just know, if this letter ever reaches you…Just know that I’ll be in le grand bleu. Thinking of you. Where my broken heart is buried along with my feelings for you…
Kunpimook
•••
January (the blue month).
Raindrops were heard hitting the rooftop of a once grandiose house with faint sea foam shutters and chipped turquoise accents. Raindrops also hit at the windows and doors.
News and locals prophesied a thunderstorm, but not a monstrous typhoon.
Jannine, the current occupant of the home, could hardly stay awake, nodding off to one of her favorite movies playing on the portable DVD player that she was smart to bring with her. It was a French movie titled “The Big Bleu.”
But before she could successfully fall asleep, she felt a big weight jump onto her lap. Her eyes comically popped open coming face to face with a calico cat.
“Lico,” Jannine whined. “I already fed you. Leave me alone.”
But the cat persisted. Not really caring if her temporary owner was sleepy. She wanted to get her grub on now.
Right now.
Jannine got up from the couch, no longer patient. Especially when the cat continued to meow and walk and maneuver around her like a jungle gym.
Just as she sat down a bowl of Lico’s Fish and More Delights onto the floor, the lights all over the house turned off along with a sudden sound of thunder.
Jannine jumped, holding her hand to her chest.
“Surge?” She whispered.
Lico on the other hand just looked at her and mewled briefly before going back to eating.
Jannine ran her hand across the nearest wall, as she looked for a flash light. No luck in the kitchen, she tried the bathrooms.
“Where the hell do they keep a flashlight?” She exclaimed after an unsuccessful find in the bathroom.
She searched all over the house the best she could. From the bedroom nightstand drawers to the dining room book shelves. She almost surrendered, accepting her fate to sit alone in the darkness.
The only thing she could hear was the ocean outside, more rain, and perhaps even a flock of low flying birds. But it was nearing the pitch black stage of the night. And due to the looming nightfall she set off on another trip around the house; in search of a flashlight.
Underneath the television, there was a closed chest located underneath the platform it sat on. “Ka. Success.”
She opened the chest that was already unlocked (Thankfully). And sifted through the box, and there underneath all of the craft and papery silage was a small flashlight.
As she was closing the chest, she found that she left one of the envelopes out. She grabbed it, and was getting ready to put it back in its home but stopped short when she saw a name scribbled in the front of it. “To Sifa,” She said aloud.
Jannine figured, since it was already open, that she could take just a peek. Besides, before she took the house-sitting job, she was told by her employer that the house owner “didn’t have any secrets.”
So, she took out the paper in the envelope. And she saw that it was a letter. It looked old. Like it’d been written awhile back.
Telling by the curvy and dotted characters, the writer was Thai.
She began to read.
•••
Dear Sifa,
Khit thueng khun khrup.
Was I being too direct? Or is it “Friendly Lovey”? Like, is it close to something your Mom would ask of you? Or does it have enough casualness to be okay?
Either way, I’m glad you finally gave me an answer. You know, to helping me with my English. I thought you would think I was too dumb to help. At least that’s what my mother likes to remind me.
So, I guess for now, this is the best way we can correspond. Especially since my LINE privileges have been “revoked” — That’s an English word for it? Yah?
Love,
Kunpimook Bhuwakul
•••
Dear Sifa,
Thank you for the help. I was able to get better marks in my work book because of you. Even Auntie was able to express better gratitude for my competency. But she said I have to get better at my accent too.
How do I perfect a good English accent?
Should I watch James Bond? Or do I need to meet a foreigner?
My brother suggested I actually date a foreigner. Should I?
Anywho. Thanks for the help.
I’m forever grateful.
Love,
Kunpimook.
P. S. Can you check my work? I keep getting red marks on some words.
•••
Dear Sifa,
Because of you I was able to get a good grade on my last report. Even if it was just by a little. Lol. That acronym stands for “Laughing Out Loud”. Right? I’m speaking like a true American.
Anywho. I was wondering if you could send a picture of yourself. I like to put a face with a name. But if you can’t. That’s okay. I just like to put a picture to everything I connect with. I actually have a friend who believes in God, and they said that God doesn’t actually have pictures. But his son does. And they’re pretty. And I never knew my dad really. He died when I was a lot younger. But my mother used to show me pictures of him all the time.
Regardless, thank you for helping me with my English work. I hope to improve.
Jaarh Gun,
Kunpimook
•••
Dear Sifa,
Thank you for being patient with me. I think I have a knack for humor. A foreigner told me so. His name is Mark.
He doesn’t talk much, but when he does, it’s fast, and surfer(?). Do all American’s talk fast? I swear Thai is easier.
But in your last response, you mentioned that my spelling isn’t all that great. So, is my spelling better now?
If not, I’ll have Mark help me.
And you look really pretty. I’ll send you a picture.
Sincerely,
Kunpimook
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•••
Dear Sifa,
Thanks again. My marks are getting higher after each test. But I’m still having trouble with certain pronunciations and writing. The teacher said I might never be able to pronounce some words good because English isn’t my first language. I’m not sure if that makes me feel dumb.
Also, I put a picture of myself in the envelope, too. Did I look different from what you expected? My mother has said in the past that I’m ugly. So, I’ve accepted that.
Lol!
Hope you’re doing well Sifa.
Love,
Kunpimook
•••
Dear Sifa,
I won a dance contest! I forgot to mention that I have a knack for dancing, and that’s what I do in a majority of my time when I’m not learning English of course. I couldn’t believe it. I’ll be going to the finals in a couple weeks. My brother told me I might possibly be noticed by anyone who could give me a big dancing scholarship to one of the most prominent schools in upper-Bangkok!
My mother was proud of me too, but she says I need to improve on school grades and start helping my brothers out at the restaurant.
My apologies!
I talk about myself a lot. How’s life been for you Sifa?
Love,
Kunpimook
•••
Dear Sifa,
Thank you for the pointers on my use of commas and periods. I’m so used to Thai script, maybe I’ll forever get the letter ‘d’ wrong.
And thank you for the compliment. You said I’m ‘not bad’. So, that must mean my mother was wrong just a little bit? lol.
By the way, my sister told me she would like to improve on her English as well. But, she didn’t want us to have the same tutor. Do you happen to know where she could find an English tutor?
And my friend Mark said you were pretty. He doesn’t say much, so you getting him to talk must say a lot.
And that’s so cool? You were an exchange student in the United States?! That’s so cool. I wish I could do something like that, but my emak says I’d be wasting my time (even though she told my older brother that he’d be able to find work down there with his smart brain).
What’s your favorite food? My favorite food is cheeseburgers.
Sincerely,
Kunpimook
•••
Dear Sifa,
It’s been awhile, hasn’t it? I think I said that right. My Thai brain is still adjusting to the weird way English speakers think. Lol.
I have been so caught up in dance practice, I forgot to check any mail that’s come addressed to me.
But I eventually did sit down and check my mail, and voilà! It was an envelope addressed to me: your letter!
And you’re favorite food is Pad Kra Prao? Man, that’s my sister’s favorite food! But you mentioned that your favorite American dish is Steak and Potatoes. What?! I’ve never had that dish. Mark has. But me? No.
Lucky.
Oh, yeah. And thank you for making corrections to my essay. I didn’t think I’d get that much red marks. But how else will I learn?
You’re a great teacher Sifa!
Love,
Kunpimook
•••
Dear Sifa,
I haven’t got to ask you. When is your birthday? Mine is in May. May 2nd. Right before school starts.
Does this sound right? The last time I handed in an essay to you you said I needed it to sound less “robotic”. Do you mean like talking through a fan robotic? I’m trying to write with a lot more zest if so.
You said something about Mark needing to help me more. But to be honest, he sometimes gets too frustrated. So, I avoid him when needing help. Not that he isn’t my best friend, but he does have an attitude problem. I love him, but his temper could use some work.
Thank you for wishing me good karma.
Love,
Kunpimook
•••
Dear Sifa,
I can’t believe you didn’t let me know it was your birthday two months ago! So, I also sent an additional item. It isn’t much, but it was all of the allowance my mother gave me. So, I genuinely hope you like it. And please don’t comment how I “shouldn’t have”. That’s bull crap. Ladies love gifts too much.
So, this is why I sent you an additional letter this month. It was to mail your birthday gift to you.
Thank you for being a good tutor.
Love,
Kunpimook
•••
Dear Sifa,
I hope you enjoyed my gift. And I know you’ve been busy. You do have a life after all.
Thank you for providing more feedback. Yet, from the tone of your letter you may think I’m improving. My teacher had said so.
I might even start rapping in English. I like Thai rap music and American rap music. But I’ve never truly understood the English lyrics in the songs.
Love,
Kunpimook
P.S.
Thank you for the English translation books.
•••
Dear Sifa,
You asked me what the school is that I plan on going to. It’s Hnung University. Have you heard of it?
My older brother was going to attend, but he has a girl friend attending another university. So, hopefully I’ll be the one in my family out of my sibs to attend the university.
I plan on going on the dance scholarship, but my major will be Business. I love dancing, but I can’t hark on a dream when my mother’s restaurant business is failing. So, I plan on returning home and taking over to keep the load off of her.
What are your plans besides helping dumb kids like me become decent English speakers? You’re too pretty to not become a model.
Oh, and thank you for suggesting that tutor. Baby actually has a crush on him, but she won’t admit it, and she’s afraid my brothers and mom will get mad.
…And finals are coming up. Man, I’m nervous. But with enough practice I’m sure I’ll be able to do it. You might even be my good luck charm. Any words of advice?
Love,
Kunpimook
•••
Dear Sifa,
Finals are next week and I made some last minute changes to my dance routine. Like your advice, you mentioned that it’s always best to give the judges an element of surprise. At first I was going to incorporate Brazilian street dance because their moves reminded me of video games and action movies, but Mark suggested I actually just stick to incorporating street dance. He mentioned that he had a friend from Hong Kong that was an avid fan of street dance, but he wasn’t necessarily a pro in it. At least that’s what Mark said. For the most part I’m getting the moves down, but it’s hard to stay on rhythm on certain parts, and my upper body strength needs to improve. Can I do all of that within a week? I’ll take that chance.
Oh, and thank you for the lucky charm; it’s of a blue elephant, right? Khob Khun, krup! 100 times.
I find it cool that you plan on working to get an internship at the U.S. Embassy. That’s only for smart people, LOL. So, I won’t be working there anytime soon. Yet, if I ever plan on moving to the States you’d help me, right?
Hnung University has a program that caters to those from other parts of Asia? I didn’t know that! All I knew was that all the cool people go there. At least that’s what my brother said. Mark said something about how his Chinese friend may be going there.
Anyway, I won’t bore you anymore with my crazy talk.
Sawasdi,
Kunpimook
I love you.
•••
Dear Sifa,
I won the scholarship!
The judges wrote that my dance performance was not only up to par with no mistakes, they said they enjoyed the creativity. They’d never seen anything like it! I can’t write fast enough!
Not only did I win a scholarship, they’re providing me free room and board, and all the materials and supplies I need. Man, I’m so freaking happy I could fly to the moon.
My mother invited all the regulars, Mark, Mark’s family, neighbors, and relatives to celebrate. Even though it’s actually to celebrate my brother’s engagement. Yes, he got engaged to the girl I was telling you about. I’m happy for them too.
But I also must let you in on a secret. The reason I’m so frikin happy to get accepted to Hnung is because my dad attended Hnung back then; it was his alma mater.
My mother doesn’t mention it, but my uncle told me so when I visited family in the summer years ago. My uncle said that my father was very popular at Hnung; he could talk the socks off anyone but everyone always said he was nice. So nice that he gave up the rest of his tuition money to help out a peer who’d gotten a girl pregnant. He helped them get housing in the northeast, and he gave the peer money to start his own business.
It’d be great to be like my father. Yet, I don’t think they’ll be a cooler guy than him. I wish he didn’t die when I was so young. I don’t even remember him.
Mark said that Christians believe in souls and that there is one heaven where a Father and son live. He said that my dad may be there. Yet, Mark said he wouldn’t know.
I truly hope my dad is in paradise.
Whew! I got a little personal there. Sorry for the tear drops. I’m not trying to smudge the ink.
Anyway Sifa, thank you!
(I) Love (You),
Kunpimook
•••
Dear Sifa,
I’m just going to come out and say it.
I love you.
I’m in love with you.
You might argue with me and say that I’m “talking out of my neck”, but I’m not. My brothers and sister describe love as loving someone unconditionally and being happy around them; that person makes you happy and feel good about life; they remind you of why you’re alive. And you’re that person for me Sifa.
Even if you go off to work for the US Embassy, I’ll still be here waiting for you. I actually want to meet you. Will you let me?
My mother said she noticed a change in me too. She said I was more confident about myself, and that without you I would’ve never gotten the scholarship or good marks in class for my “stellar” English.
I am more than happy to give you all the credit Sifa. My fine blue gem.
But I don’t expect anything is return. I hope you can accept me. And if you can’t, I hope to become a better person.
Maybe we’ll cross paths sooner than you think.
Yet, I mean it more than you know. Poom rak khun. I love you.
I come with open arms.
Love love love,
Kunpimook
•••
Jannine wiped at her eyes, cursing herself for smudging the ink. She wasn’t normally such a cryer, yet, her heart felt for Kunpimook. By the looks of it, the recipient of the letters never ran into his arms; never accepted him; never read his words carefully.
“Was I not good enough? Is that why you never wanted to actually consider being with me for a change?”
Jannine thought Kunpimook was enough. She wished that Sifa had kept a photo of him. All she could take from was his writing. Once she got out of this house (with its bad wifi and reception) she was going to look him up everywhere on the net.
Kunpimook was still reachable right?
As she searched for more letters, she found a beautiful blue silk scarf stuffed in the tight corner of the chest. Sifa had good taste.
She opened up the scarf and out came a pair of earrings that had a gold outline with blue gemstones in the center.
“She musta been a bit well off,” Jannine muttered. “I wonder why she didn’t take this chest with her.”
Perhaps Sifa had left home in a hurry. Yet, why’d she ever leave?
Before she could mull over that for too long, she got up from the floor, and went to the bedroom.
She grabbed her suitcase, placed it on the bed, and then opened it. She’d wrapped the earrings in the silk scarf and now placed them in the suitcase. After, she looked around the room for Kunpimook’s picture. She scrounged underneath the bed, inspected the inside of the closet, and stripped the bed of its clothes and looked under the mattress. Nothing.
“If Sifa broke his damn heart…” Jannine muttered. “Then why the frack didn’t she leave his picture?”
Mercilessly she checked all the rooms in the house. In the kitchen, she looked underneath the sink. As she rummaged, she pushed Lico away who was wanting to come back for seconds. “Lico, you little shit. Instructions say once a day. No more food!”
Hours later she was sitting on the living room couch, with a glum facial expression.
“No picture,” She said defeatedly.
For the next few weeks Jannine continued on with her normal routine. She cleaned, fed Lico, told the gardeners where the weeds were around the house and by the gutters, and had the town shop owner give her a ride to the animal doctor for Lico’s check up.
Yet, one day, after she’d gone to the store for vegetables she found a man sitting on the porch. He wore a kind smile, with glasses adorning his face.
“Sawasdi ka,” Jannine greeted. “Anything you need?”
“Katowt,” The stranger said as he stood up. “I’m Tom, the owner of this property. And I think(?) you’re my house sitter.”
“Oh,” Jannine said, slapping her forehead. “Forgive me.” She bowed. “Please come in.”
The man took the bags from her hand despite her insisting she was fine, and he followed her in.
“Lico has been fed,” Jannine said as she pointed at the cat in the corner on the pallet. “And the lawn men came on Monday. And I mopped this morning—“
“Khob Khun,” The owner said. “You took care of my home. I did come unannounced so no need to over-explain or insist.”
Jannine smiled as her shoulders relaxed. “Basdi Basdi.”
•••
“Khun Tom,” Jannine said pushing around the sautéed vegetables on her plate. “Where’d you go?”
The man replied, “I was in France.”
Jannine’s eyes widened. She took a sip of her almond milk before setting the glass down. “Ka? That’s so awesome. What’d you do there?”
“I drew the ocean,” Tom said. “I drew the place people escape to.”
He piled a bit more vegetables on his plate. “You make great Pad Pak,” He complimented. “If you were my blood, I’d make you stay and cook for me.”
Jannine laughed. “Khob khun.”
“What is it you do?” Tom asked her. “I’m sorry I didn’t leave a phone number. I know that your employer told me what I requested but I’m sorry I didn’t reveal much about myself.”
“It’s okay,” She replied genuinely. “I’m kind of undecided right now. But I’m most likely going back to school.”
“Out of Thailand?” Tom asked. “I know there’s a lot of transfer programs that take you to Europe.”
Jannine shook her head. “Mai. I’m going to one in Bangkok. I might study Fashion Design.”
“Thammasat. You think of going there?”
“Mai. I have my sights set on Hnung.”
“Hnung?”
Hnung University was a school that had a very diverse student body owing to the fact that they had a program dedicated to oversea transfers. The overseas transfers put a lot of emphasis on South Koreans, Chinese, and a bit of Japanese. Hnung University was a student preferred or “fan favorite” of the higher (secondary) education schools in all of Thailand.
Yet, most importantly, it was the school that Kunpimook mentioned in his letters.
“Chai.” Jannine took another sip of her almond milk. “Since I’m of mixed race. I wanted to go to a school that welcomed a diverse population.”
Tom raised an eyebrow. Maybe he wasn’t buying her white lie. So, she continued on.
“The design program is good there too. My vater (father in German) can afford the tuition.”
Tom smiled. “I’m glad you’ve got a good idea on what you want to do,” He said wholeheartedly. “It beats being broke and alone in 1970s New York.”
Before Jannine could even think of a response to that, Tom suddenly said, “Before you leave Jannine, I do have one last request.”
“Chai?”
“May I draw you?”
Jannine pointed at herself. “Chan?”
Tom nodded. “Chai.”
Jannine stood up and followed the property owner.
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This image wasn't included in the letters. Jannine never found it...yet. I don't even think she knows what Sifa looks like.
•••
Author's thoughts: Also, I took one photo from pinterest, and I'm not sure who posted it. But, the face-claim for Sifa is actress Jularat Hanrungroj. I will be taking photos from her instagram and facebook page (?).
part 2
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