#interviewing him would be like studying him professionally and i want to

[hah-studios]

Wish Rewrite

Okay so I got this outta my system. I'm in no way saying this idea is better than the movie. But at least I'm getting my Star Boy fix!

Prologue read via old timey story book:

Once upon a time, not so long ago, there was an island called Rosas. While beautiful, Rosas became terrorized by a monster. The brave, good people of the island tried to slay it, but they were beaten each time.

Then, out of nowhere, came a powerful sorcerer named Magnifico; with his abilities he slayed the beast and freed the people. Rosas was so grateful they named him and, his his beautiful wife, Amaya, king and queen.

The new king would go on to prove how generous and good he truly was: by using his magic to grant wishes…

We are introduced to Asha, who was reading the history of Rosas to her baby goat, Valentino. Several books are surrounding her at home, one of which Valentino is trying to eat. Through talking to the small goat the audience learns more about Asha, while intelligent and hard working, she is shy and a workaholic, always studying and offering tours to visitors. Today is the day she applies to be the apprentice to King Magnifico, like the rest of Rosas she idolizes him and believes following in his footsteps will give her a sense of self. She will look at a picture of her late grandfather who raised her, promising that she will help make wishes come true in honorof his that was never granted.

She goes to guide the newest tour (Welcome to Rosas, with an added on segment talking about the love the king and queen share) where we learn of how King Magnifico and Queen Amaya benevolently rule the island. When citizens turn 18 they offer their wishes to Magnifico who will protect the wish until it is time for it to be granted.

After the tour Asha goes to the royal kitchens were her best and only friend Dahlia is a royal baker. They talk about Asha’s application. Dahlia reassures Asha that she will get the job, and admits she hopes it’ll give her a boost of confidence to maybe make some new friends. Asha says she already has Dahlia and doesn’t need anyone else. It is then Queen Amaya (holding her skinny tabby Lulu) arrives to escort Asha to the king. This version of Amaya feels untouchable, her voice calm and collected as she tells Asha to not waste time, don’t ask to see the wishes, and yes they had received the several letters Asha sent asking for an interview.

Asha is then left in a study where she notices a peculiar door, but Magnifico arrives before she could examine it. He is a charming man, his presence seeming to fill the room as he carries a staff with an emerald tip. Asha is clearly intimidated but he’s polite as he introduces himself, even offer his condolences for her grandfather’s passing-knowing she’s an orphan. Trying not to trip over herself Asha praises the king for his hard work and shows off her knowledge of magic and Rosas. Magnifico is impressed. And after Asha passionately tells him how her ‘wish’ is to help protect Rosas, it’s people and wishes, Magnifico decides she’s worthy to be his apprentice and they’d have the announcement that night.

The people crowd before the castle that night, Asha hurries to tell Dahlia the good news. But Gabo overhears her announcement and makes a snide remark about her overworking and ‘sucking up’ to the king and queen. He is quickly shushed by Bazeema who looks almost afraid of Asha now that she has such a high status. But she returns to the stage to witness Amaya whisper in Magnifico’s ear. He then announces the person to have their wish granted that month; a woman who wants to be a professional dress maker. After using the staff to grant the wish he makes a joking comment that she can now make his wife hundreds of beautiful dresses. He then summons Asha forward to announce her as his new apprentice. Asha happily exclaims how excited she is to help the people, but she is given a frosty reception, murmuring about how they find her weird, are resentful for failing their own applications, and don’t know how this shy girl who never engages with the locals outside tour duty, could become someone as great as their king. Asha takes the doubt but once she can she leaves the stage, tripping in the process and embarrassing herself further. She runs off with Valentino into the forest (This Wish) and ends up noticing one of the brighter stars. She remembers hearing how once upon a time, wishes came from stars. Not seeing any harm to it she wishes to become a wonderful magic user and become as great, if not greater, than the King himself.

The star suddenly seems to glow brighter and get bigger, Asha realizes too late it’s because it’s getting closer. She is knocked into by a human sized ball of light, rolling across the grass before kicking it away from her. It’s to her great shock that the ball of light was…a boy. A handsome boy he glows faintly, his hair a pure golden color that flows like he is underwater, he dusts himself off as he hovers off the ground. They have an awkward but cute introduction, the Star not understanding personal boundaries and getting right up into Asha’s face, giving her a too enthusiastic hand shake when offered and floating around as if there’s no gravity. Asha quickly deduces he’s a star that came down when she summoned him. Her hypothesis is further proven when he tosses some dust on Valentino who then starts to speak. (He is not voiced by Alan Tudyk in this rewrite, instead he will have a voice that better fits his character design. He will be a mixture of Olaf and Jiminy Cricket in terms of personality/role in the story). Asha asks Star to give her the same dust so her wish will be granted, but Star shakes his head. He is mute and tries to explain using sign language, but that’s one book Asha hasn’t read yet. She decides to call him Star before leading him back to the city, he can stay at her house until she figures out what to do with him. On the way he fonds over the animals, hitting them with a few clouds of golden dust (ex. A brown squirrel turns red, a bird’s nest gets an upgrade).

The next morning Asha brings Dahlia over and shows her Star (both he and Valentino would be hiding out in the chicken coop). Dahalia is at first concerned her friend has a man hidden away, but after Asha explains they agree to take him to King Magnifico to see what he has to say. However they want Star to stay under the radar and not get noticed by the townspeople. This is when Star reveals he’s a shapeshifter, transforming into a copy of Valentino, the only different is his eyes are still gold.

The four arrive into town and while things go to plan at first, Star’s natural curiosity has him running off to explore the town, Asha and friends trying not to lose him. He comes across Simon who looks miserable and exhausted at an outside table. Empathetic, Star discreetly puts some star dust in his cup of tea. When he drinks it he’s suddenly energized and is flabbergasted. He turns around just as Asha appears and picks up Star, he asks her if she’s already learned magic from Magnifico, even stating he had just been wishing he could take something that would make him less tired. Asha is awkwardly silent, not wanting to take credit but also not wanting to reveal what Star is. But Simon pays no mind and drags her to his friends so he can show them he’s no longer tired. There is then a montage of the seven dwarves based characters showing off their problems and Star uses his abilities to grant these small unspoken wishes (he gets a jar of honey for Safi to help with his allergies, a chicken coop so Dario can have his own chickens, dancing shoes for Hal, a stress toy for Gabo, Bazeema’s secret introverted hide out, and even a bag of a very rare ingredient for Dahlia so she could make a special recipe she mentioned at the beginning of the film). Throughout this scene we see Asha opening up a bit more to the characters, starting to form friendships. While in Bazeema’s new hideout they talk of having a little party with dancing and treats and in his excitement Star accidentally drops his disguise and reveals his true form. The group is shocked and Asha is forced to explain who he is, though when Gabo tries to accuse Asha of tricking them Star immediately puts himself in front of her, defending her from the accusation. The other characters also come to Asha and Star’s defense and Gabo relents, though snarkily asks if they should tell the King there’s a wish granting, shapeshifting guy from space in Rosas. Asha will go alone to ask, leaving Star with the others.

She arrives at the castle, King Magnifico and Queen Amaya are surprised to see her so soon as he hadn’t summoned her but lets her in. Asha, feeling uncomfortable to just out and say what had happened, asks Magnifico what he knows about stars. The king looks momentarily surprised but quickly shrugs it off, he tells Asha that many years ago stars would grant peoples’ wishes, but only so they could have the human indebted to them. They were malicious creatures pretending benevolence so they could control the masses, one of the worst things was granting evil wishes and having people turn on the ones who wouldn’t make wishes. Amaya retells her how her parents were oppressed by stars after merely asking for food and a roof. Eventually it was decided that the newer generations would never wish on another star, and Magnifico dedicated himself to learning magic so he could help good people have their wishes granted without having to pay him back. And, unlike stars, he has a moral compass, so he would not grant any wishes that would harm people. He then looms over Asha and asks her if there’s something she needs to tell him. Asha looks visibly torn, her respect and admiration for Magnifico clashing with what he told her. Star is not at all like he had just told her, and Asha ends up reassuring him that no, she has nothing to tell him.

She returns to the hide out feeling like a traitor, wanting to talk to Star alone. But the group is already starting their party, dancing and making music. Star, spotting Asha, immediately pulls her onto the dance floor. The group cheers her on as they dance around, and Asha’s anxieties melt away as she’s swept up into the dancing. A spark is lit.

Asha, Star, and Valentino return to her house and this time the two go to her living room where he admires all her books and notices the picture of her grandfather. She tells him how much she loved the man, how he had taken care of her after her parents died, how much she missed how, how she wished his wish could’ve been granted. Star comforts her in her grief and she feels safe enough to tell him about what Magnifico said. Star reassures her the king is lying and Asha finds herself believing him, and yet the King is a great man who has done so much for Rosas-why would he lie to her?

It is Valentino who suggests they go do some snooping (not him though, he’s going to eat a cook book as soon as the two leave).

Star carries Asha into the sky, unable to resist showing off to her first. Asha let’s herself enjoy the feeling of being in the air, feeling like she could reach out and touch the star or hold the moon. They slip inside via the highest balcony, Star transforming into a mouse and riding on her shoulder as Asha sneaks through the castle. They are only spotted by Lulu who tries to eat Star before Asha reaches the study and slams the door, the cat slamming its face into it.

Said study is empty and at first Asha thinks to skim through the books for answers but Star notices the door. Transforming into a flea he slips under the door and opens it from the other side. It leads down a dark stair case with a golden light at the bottom. The two share a glance before starting to go down-only for green light to envelope them both and drag them back up the stairs into the study.

The King and Queen are standing there, Lulu on Amaya’s shoulder, clearly the one who had warned them of the intruders. Magnifico tells Asha she didn’t have to sneak in to deliver them a star, the young girl immediately puts herself between her friend and the king. She tries to tell them he’s not like they think, he’s a good kind person who helped people grant wishes without asking for anything in return. But with his staff Magnificio wraps the green energy around Star like chains and Amaya drags Asha away from him. They call Asha a fool if she thinks they’d let one little star ruin the years of work they’ve put into maintaining their kingdom. That they picked what wishes are to be granted. That the people worshiped them. Asha is forced to realize the kind rulers she wanted to be like-are a lie. Magnifico comments to his wife that Star’s power could be very useful to them. In an act of desperation Asha kicks out, knocking the staff out of the king’s hand. Amaya, not expecting Asha to lash out, looses her grip on her. Once the staff hits the ground the green chains evaporate and Star transforms into a giant golden bird, grabs Asha and flies out of one of the study’s high windows.

Magnifico is furious that they got away but Amaya calms him down, reminding him that the people of Rosas would not believe those two over their loving rulers. She remarks that maybe it’s time to grant Lulu’s wish. Magnifico agrees and his magic mutates the cat into a sabortoothed giant tabby that runs out of the room to go hunt down Asha and Star. The king and queen reprise the segment of Welcome to Rosas dedicated to them, now in a minor key with new context.

Asha and Star escape into the forest, where they first met(they are next to a lake). Asha is crying, heartbroken and scared over what will happen next. Her whole goal in life was built around a lie. How will they stop people as powerful as the royal couple?

Author’s note here; this is a part where I’m not sure how to go about it. My idea is Star comforts Asha and it will lead into a duet, because the demo version of At All Costs is heavily romantic-coded and is perfect to show how much the two have grown to care for each other. But my version of Star is mute so I haven’t figured out how to work around that besides the song being sung over them instead of being sung by them. So please hold that thought

The two share a romantic scene, flying in the sky, dancing among the clouds and coming this close to sharing a kiss.

They are interrupted by the arrival of Lulu who tries to attack them, Star transforms into a giant cat as well, putting himself between Lulu and Asha. But before the Queen’s cat can attack them, Dahlia and the others suddenly appear via carriage and accidentally knock the giant cat into the lake. Lulu splutters out of the water and runs back to Rosas.

The gang tells the two they saw Star flying away and then the king and queen made an announcement that Asha is a traitor and trying to usurp them and ruin Rosas. The news not sitting right with the group they decided to follow, worried for the two. Asha is grateful for their help and touched when they point out its what friends are for. But now they must go hide because the whole town will be looking for them.

On the way back Asha tells them what had happened. Like her they are shocked the king and queen could be villains, but they also don’t think Asha and Star are liars. So they have to make a plan to figure out what the two are hiding and, if necessary, defeat them. (What I Know Now, which adds in a segment for the king and queen ‘lamenting’ that their people don’t know what’s best for them). There is a short moment during this song where it’s revealed Valentino knows sign language, having learned to read from Asha reading to him-and making a point to read books before he eats them. Asha tells him there’s a saying she’d like to learn but the scene cuts before we learn what it is.

The plan is that Star will dash the group with some dust to make them glow and they’d run through the town and forest ‘pretending’ to be Star. This would serve to distract the king and queen long enough for Asha and Star to go back to the study and go through the door. Star also gives Asha a stick and blesses it with his magic for her use. The plan is going off without a hitch, Asha while trying to find information in the study comes across a small journal. She reads it aloud as they open the secret door and go down the stairs:

Years ago, Magnifico wished for magic. A star came down to grant his wish, admiring his ambitions. However Magnificio turned on the star and trapped her, now absorbing her power to grant peoples’ wishes. They reach the bottom of the stairs to see an older woman chained to the ground; the star from the journal. Asha and Star are horrified by this revelation, but before they could free her Magnifico appears having expected them to come back.

Asha accuses him of lying about the stars being malicious, and the king instead says the stars were too scared to risk coming down to grant a human’s wishes. “Except that one, it seems.” He glares at Star and tells him that he would be his new battery and help lead Rosas to even more triumphs. In fact, why stop at Rosas? He could grant wishes of people all over the world, they’d be so grateful they’d do whatever he asked.

Furious Asha lunges at him but Magnificio stops them with his staff and drags them back upstairs to where Amaya is waiting. He offers Asha to his queen, not needing her. Amaya then reminds the young girl of the history of Rosas, how there was a monster that terroized the people…Asha watches in horror as Amaya transforms into a large dragon-esque creature. She is able to escape the study and Amaya chases after her. Star, furious and terrified transforms into his own version of a golden dragon-esque creature and manages to escape Magnifico’s grasp.

Asha is chased outside, nearly killed by Amaya before Star arrives and knocks her away. While the two giants fight Asha hurries back inside to deal with Magnifico.

We cut to a scene of Dahlia and co being surrounded by the villagers, but the townsfolk are starting to waver having seen how much happier the group is thanks to Star granting their wishes. Lulu then appears, prepared to eat them. Valentino, leading an army of the animals Star befriended, chases the big cat off into the woods. Disillusioned the townsfolk follow Dahilia, Valentino, and co back into town to witness the rest of the battle.

Asha, still brandishing the wand Star gave her, witnesses Magnifico dragging the star out of her cell and absorbing so much of her magic that the woman loses the rest of her glow and falls to the ground. Asha tries to attack him but the king teleports the two of them to the roof, ready to throw Asha off and strike Star with his magic. Asha is able to use her wand to keep him from hurting her or Star, but eventually he is able to snatch the wand from her and break it. Desperate, Asha tries to physically wrestle the staff away from him.

 Suddenly there’s a scream, Amaya having bit down on Star’s neck. Magnificio moves to fire at Star to finish him off, but Asha with her own hands still on the staff is able to redirect it and the blast hits Amaya instead. She is evaporated and Magnifico cries out in horror and rage. However the damage is done for Star, transforming back into human form he floats up to Asha slowly losing his golden glow. He holds her cheek for one moment before falling on the roof, completely gray and presumed dead. Asha cries and hugs him, unable to believe this is how the story ends. But then Magnifico grabs her with his magic and drags her away, Asha desperately trying to fight against it, only able to hold onto Star’s hand. The king summons storm clouds to completely cover the sky, vowing revenge against the entirety of Rosas, against the entirety of the world for killing Amaya.

All seems lost, yet Asha starts to softly sing (This Wish (Reprise)), and after a few moments her friends and the townspeople below start singing along, wishing for Star to be revived. We have a short scene of the star woman waking up and hearing the singing from outside. But everyone's sincerity in the wish allows Star to be revived, glowing brighter than ever. Asha, relieved and full of hope, gets up to face against Magnifico. He tries to shoot her with magic but Star’s glow serves as a wall of protection for her, and as she slowly walks toward the man he gets more frantic and desperate, unable to see because of Star’s bright light. He continues to step back until he reaches the edge, loses his balance and starts to fall, Asha grabs his staff as the man vanishes into the roiling ocean below. She then shatters the staff on the roof. The magic shoots out into the sky, wishes given to Magnifico returned to its owners and the star woman brought back to her full strength.

Star is flying around the sky, ecstatic. Asha calls his attention and we see her sign/say the words: “I love you.” (having learned them from Valentino). It is like a firework goes off as Star happily picks her up and twirls through the sky with her, Asha laughing gleefully before finally kissing him.

When the two return to the ground they receive a group hug from their friends. They find the broken stick Magnifico had tossed and Asha apologizes to Star for breaking it, but he simply puts it back together. Dahlia comments that her magic use was pretty impressive considering she had had no real experience. Valentino smugly saying she was greater than the former king. It’s then Asha realizes that Star had helped grant her wish-she just needed to meet him halfway. He winks at her when she makes this realization.

The star woman then appears, stepping out of the castle, looking poised and formidable. Asha tells the townspeople what Magnifico and Amaya had done to her and the people are filled with shame that she had suffered right under their noses. Asha gives her a formal apology and after a moment the star woman nods and smiles kindly, having been impressed by the goodness in these humans. She had thought they would all be vile like the king and queen.

She starts to float, planning on going back to the sky. She looks expectantly at Star, expecting him to come with. Asha is stricken at the thought but reassures him she wouldn’t be like Magnifico and force him to stay. In response Star holds Asha’s hand and gives the star woman a resolute look. She blinks, looking a bit surprised, but then nods and even gives them a small curtsy as if they were royalty. She then shoots upward to become the brightest star in the sky.

At the epilogue Asha and Star are learning all they can on how to lead Rosas, the town wanting them to be their new king and queen. She is getting better at her magic and signs fluidly. They have Dahlia and co be a sort of council for them. With Star’s encouragement people are doing their part to make their wishes come true. Valentino is in charge of Lulu who is going through a program to be nicer, it’s a work in progress.

The final shot is Asha and Star standing at the balcony, sharing a kiss as the scene pans up to show the night sky. The stars look brighter than ever.

Credits roll.

#disney wish #wish rewrite #star #asha #asha x star #fan writing

[c0ffinshit]

I Can See You (11th Doctor x Reader) Smut Oneshot

a/n: welcome to the first part of my short story collection called “The Doctor Will See You Now.” i hope you all as excited as i am! word count: 3,833 warnings: teachers au, fluff, soulmate au (if you squint), little dialogue, age gap, mentions of sex and masturbation before the smut, praise kink, vanilla cunnilingus

"And we kept everything professional, but something's changed, it's something I like. They keep watchful eyes on us, so it's best that we move fast and keep quiet." - Taylor Swift

1956, somewhere towards the tail end of England, a doctor sits at his desk, looking over at the same pieces of papers. Homework from his first batch of classes. He puts his hands on his face. Sure, every teacher should be worried about the brilliance of their students. But that wasn’t what he was worried about. He was apprehensive about his newly hired teaching assistant, (Y/N) (L/N).

He thought you were a bright young woman, keeping your hair neat and all your clothes clean and ironed. He always wanted to keep his distance from you. So he doesn’t repeat what happened with his past teaching assistant. The Doctor wanted a clean record. He pushes away from his desk in his chair, finally getting ready to go home. But his mind began to wander.

Earlier in the day, you spoke with him about a future project, seeing who would be willing to participate and pass it. When the end of the conversation came to a head, you giggled at one of his attempts at a joke. You pull at your skirt a little. He notices more of your thigh, including a small accidental flash of your undergarments. It just happened. He didn’t want to make you more nervous than you seemed, so he didn’t speak to anyone about it. A secret he could have all to himself. Something to ruin with his own sick and twisted imagination. Innocent, turned dirty by his own hand.

You sat alone in your apartment, as you always did. There wasn’t much to do when all you could do was think about that Doctor. His smile, the way his eyes would focus on you when you spoke. It was always those little things that drove you mad about him. You began to wonder what he thought of you. Did he think you were pretty? Did he want you to wear shorter skirts again?

You thought about spying on your neighbors again.

You pull the blanket closer to your chest as you get up and listen to your neighbors, an older married couple. Typically, you would study them silently, a cup to the wall, taking notes of everything they did together. Tonight wasn’t any different. The wife was cooking dinner for him, kissing and making one another laugh. Them being as intimate as you imagined yourself with the Doctor.

A few months before you met him, you studied day and night. Your dream of working at a college was on the horizon. When the day finally came, you walked up to the stage and accepted your fate as an English professor. As you looked for jobs, your heart began to sink deeper and deeper into your chest. It didn’t seem like anyone was looking to hire a fresh-out-of-college English teacher anywhere.

Suddenly, you find a job at a college as a teaching assistant. An assistant? You went to school for six years, and the only job available at a college was a teaching assistant. With a defeated sigh, you called the college and scheduled an interview. After said interview, it took them a few days to finally get back to you about the job. Once you opened your mailbox for the fourth time that week, a letter accepting you into their system greeted you. It contains the usual things, even saying you would be working with the Doctor, the most respectable man in the institution’s history.

The Doctor quietly shut the door of his pearl-white car. After hopping from century to decade to millennium, he thought it would be time to slow down and get serious about what he wanted. Sex wasn’t crucial, but the Doctor wanted something to call his own. Having a lover in his life wasn’t that important either, but he wanted you more than anything. The Doctor never wanted someone that bad before. He was tired of running, walking, and time-traveling. A hot cup of tea and you were all he needed.

The key turns with his hand, turning the car on with a small ding. He wanted to go anywhere but back to the TARDIS. The TARDIS was lonely and quiet, filled with knobs and future technology. The only other place he knew was your apartment. Your apartment had old books, statues of pilgrim girls, and a TV that didn’t have many channels. The place smelled of old wax long melted away, and cracks in the plaster lined almost every wall. Your apartment felt like it could cave in at a moment’s notice. But in his mind, he would rather spend the rest of his night in a place with thin walls and the same few reruns on the same few channels than a place he called home for so many years.

So that settles it. The Doctor backs out of his spot in the large parking lot, turning left towards the exit gate.

You had actually met the Doctor long before you had ever realized. When you were in your later high school years, the new science teacher had gone missing a few days before the school was set to open for classes. The Doctor had been on his own for a while by this point. Amelia and Rory had died at the dreadful hands of a weeping angel, unable to enjoy any of his new misadventures. Before Clara, the Doctor knew that the absence of Rory and Amelia would send him down a path of risky choices and, ultimately, his own new pain to heal, as a fresh wound would cross over a scar. In almost a manic state, he thought he could pull off being a high school teacher. But not any teacher, your new science teacher. A part of him thought this would be an easy way to find a new companion one way or another. Whether it be a teacher looking for a new way to spice up their life or a young woman looking for a new boy to fawn over. The Doctor was a shoo-in for the job with mature teaching ability but with a kind, funnier side, keeping the topics of biology and chemistry light with jokes and foxy comments.

One of the few things he remembers about that year was when you talked to your friends. Quiet whispers during class would quickly become loud, bombastic laughter the minute the bell rang. He only listened when the conversation would turn to your secret crush on him. Your friends nudged you during group work whenever his eye lingered on you. The way they giggled when he made a vaguely inappropriate joke. But that was your friends; you were a different story. It was clear to him that you were smart, just purposely failing for one reason or another. Whenever he would pull you aside to speak about it, your eyes would glaze over as you watched his eyes sink into yours. The minute the conversation ended, you would run off to hide until your next class. You wondered why you couldn’t be normal about him. The Doctor was two years older than you, or so he said. But it could be that wrong, could it?

Your hands continued to pull up the blanket, pulling it over your head. At this point, you didn’t want to be reminded how much you desired the Doctor. How badly you wanted him to wrap his arms around you or whisper sweet nothing to you as your eyes fluttered shut. Still, you can’t help but listen. The couple is eating dinner peacefully, talking about their days at work. But out of your window, you see the Doctor’s car pull up just outside your building.

As he finally pulls up to your apartment building, he sees you with your orange blanket over your head, leaning against the wall. The Doctor glances up, watching you and thinking about the massive mistake he is making. The wind pushes his hair out of his face.

‘This can’t be the right thing to do.’ He thought as he opened the car door anyway. He continues looking up. That’s when your eyes meet his. You move away from the wall and walk to the window, looking down at him.

Panic sets in. As if you had summoned him using your mind into your apartment’s parking lot. The second you look back out the window, the Doctor is gone. The panic feeling suddenly gets worse. You sit back down on the couch, trying to avoid the future sound of a doorbell ringing. Your ears lead back to your neighbors, still eating and laughing.

Your doorbell buzzes, followed shortly by another buzz. The last thing you needed was a big, grand scene in your loud apartment building. The Doctor stands outside your door, waiting. He thought about how impatient he would be if this were any other person. If there’s one thing the Doctor knew about being alive, it was that time moved so much slower than ever. But as he thought, the Doctor realized the faint feeling of calm whenever he thought about you. That’s why he could never get mad at you for not answering the door. The two hearts in his chest beat like one. As the Doctor fidgeted with his fingers, soft rain crawled against the glass of your window, still not letting the poor man in.

‘This is a bad idea, right?’ The Doctor thinks as he opens the door to your apartment building and walks up each step.

The Doctor knocks on the door, waiting for you to answer. It's not like he can leave you after scaring you like that. The Doctor almost doubts you will answer the door, leaving him in his soaking wet clothes. He shakes his head. You are one of the sweetest people the Doctor has ever known. In his mind, you are the reason he kept running. Not to save the world across multiple timelines with different companions each time, shedding his skin every so often. But to find you every time, in every universe, and in the same apartment building.

You look over to the door again, still thinking about opening it. The series of unfortunate events goes as follows in your mind: You get up from the couch and open the door to the Doctor just awkwardly standing there; the two of you break out into a conversation about what he happens to be doing at your apartment on a Saturday night after work, he proclaims his love for you and you, out of fear, reject him. The Doctor goes on a big rant about how you should really give him a chance. But by this point, you can only hear your heart beating, so you slam the door in his face.

I mean, isn’t that the way it always goes?

Sure, you did actually like him, but it was not like you were planning on telling him anytime soon. It's not like you feared his reaction; the Doctor isn’t exactly at the top of the scariest individuals ever. And yet, your legs pick up for your body from the couch and walk over the door. You place your hand gingerly on the doorknob, turning it slowly.

‘This is a bad idea, right?’ You think as you open the door.

Upon opening the door, the Doctor’s head pops his head up. He smiles. You try to avoid his gaze, unlike how you did when you were a schoolgirl.

"Fancy seeing you here." You mumble.

The Doctor’s hand twitches as he hears you speak. It felt so good hearing your voice again, even though he had heard it earlier that day. You shyly look up, still avoiding direct eye contact. The Doctor’s eyes softly as he sees you look up. He could sense how nervous you were, but he wanted to tell you he wasn’t there to hurt you. In his arms, he would make everything feel good. "Listen, um," The Doctor started, trying to keep his thoughts in one place.

"I wanted to come here and say…" The Doctor’s voice trails off. He doesn’t know how to put this.

"You love me?" You reply, trying to keep your voice down.

The Doctor didn’t think it would be that clear that the feeling was that obvious. It didn’t help how you said it, so matter-of-fact, which you didn’t detect. Maybe you did know that you pulled your skirt as a sign of flirting.

That part was valid that, over time, you had been flirting with the idea of being with the Doctor. Including playing with your skirt when you knew he was looking. Sure, you did other things to get him to notice you, like wearing makeup to highlight your eyes or shorter skirts and tight shirts.

But he never bothered to actually flirt with you. It could’ve been possible that he thought you had a partner or, god forbid, you were married. You had never told him about such people because you had none to speak of. No lover to call your own.

"Um, yeah, something like that." He laughs awkwardly.

Your face flushed with the red hue of your blood, and your heart started beating faster. You thought you were going to die. Your eyes meet his. This has never happened before. A new feeling washes over you.

Love. No longer an innocent, flirty crush. He felt like a lover at that moment. You grab his face and pull him into a passionate kiss, dropping your orange blanket onto the carpet floor of the hallway. His lips were soft, although a bit wet. Meanwhile, the night sky became darker, and rain began to fall, hitting against your windows. The winds outside, once soft and free, became harsh and fast.

You pull him into your apartment, careful not to trip over or break anything. Your kiss was like that as well; it was unbreakable and wistful. You wanted him more than anything at that moment. He pulled away for a second and uttered the words you dreamed about hearing: "I want you."

The Doctor said he wanted you. Something just clicked in your head. Nothing was holding you back at this point. You begin to untie his iconic bowtie and unbutton his shirt, his tan blazer falling to the floor. The Doctor told himself to remain calm and sensual. One of the many things that made you squirm in your seat and have a slight blush on your cheeks was when he remained mysterious and alluring. That was the only thing that was a constant. He grabs your hips and pulls you closer to him, his nose ghosting over your neck.

You, on the other hand, didn’t care what he did. As long as your hands were on his body and vice versa, the rest didn’t matter. The last thing that mattered was staying calm. The Doctor lets out a soft moan. You place your body back on the couch again, looking at the man you’ve been craving all this time. He loved that your eyes flickered like a candle in the wind. Your body moved in a way that was borderline pornographic, slowly moving from side to side. He notices this and moves on top of you, his knee closer to your heat. It’s like he knew your body in and out, predicting your every move.

‘Gently, now.’ He thought as his hands moved closer to the side of your breasts, cupping them in his bony hands.

Your cunt twitches at the feeling. The Doctor held you like you were a wine glass. Which, in his mind, was the only way to touch you. He may have only known you for a few months; he wasn’t ready to let you leave his touch yet.

After all, he’s the only Time Lord left. He’s had so many companions that, after a while, it became hard to keep track of. After falling in love with so many different people, it felt impossible to feel that kind of love again. Then, he was in 1951, in the middle of a busy high school hallway, struggling to find himself or where his room was. A lovely young woman walks by, struggling to hold her books. The Doctor locks eyes with her and asks her the time. She replies: “1:30.” That was when the Doctor finally knew he was in the right place, at the right time.

The Doctor moves down to the neck, planting gentle kisses as he moves. You let out a soft moan, careful to make your neighbor not hear. Your mother always told you to settle down soon and have a husband to care for you. To be frank, she wasn’t clear about the husband part. Sometimes, a husband is an extraterrestrial from a distant planet, most likely older than one thousand years old.

"Please," you beg softly.

"Are you sure?" He asks, knowing he might regret it if you say no.

You nod your head.

He nods back.

The Doctor crawls down your body, taking in every part of you. Your biceps were held neatly above your head, and your breathing got heavier the lower he went. He positioned one knee on the plush carpeted floor. The Doctor's breathing slowed as the Doctor went under your nightdress.

The Doctor hooks your panties and pulls them down, exposing your wet pussy. He unthinkingly pockets the underwear, letting a part of the soft cotton peek out as a reminder of you. Taking a finger, the Doctor gently flicks under the hood of your clit. As you can imagine, sex isn’t something the Doctor doesn’t get to have often, so he is a bit rusty. He could feel his two hearts beat with every soft flick of his finger. Your body twitches for a second, praying for more contact. He suddenly got the idea to slip a single finger inside of you. Even the thought of the moans you would let out made his already hard dick almost painful.

"I’m going to put a single finger inside you, okay?" He stated, "If you don’t like it, tell me, okay?"

"Yes," You say softly.

"Yes, what?" The Doctor repeats.

You think for a moment. "Yes, Doctor."

He smirks, "Good girl."

His fingertip touches the wet walls of your cunt. His middle finger gently pushes against your G-spot, making you whimper.

‘She wants more.’

Of course, being the lovely Doctor, he continues to nurse your G-spot but starts to kiss your inner thighs. His lips were a faint red and slick with spit. Teasing was one of the many things he wanted to try, but he never found the right partner. He understood that this is what you needed. You felt so pent up with sexual frustration. Year after year, you felt more disappointed with the partners in your life, sexually speaking. And yet the Doctor, after knowing you for so little time, could read your body like a book. Through desperation, the Doctor managed to undo his tight belt and unzip his beige dress pants with his free hand. He starts to palm his cock through his boxers as he continues.

"Please…more." She whines, getting tired of all the teasing.

He chuckles, "Sorry, I got carried away. Don’t worry, I’ve got you."

The Doctor thrusts his ring finger inside, plunging slightly into your canal. As he glances down at your poor, throbbing clit, he notes that it looks like a pink pearl inside of an oyster. He places a gentle kiss on it and mumbles something inaudible. Your back suddenly arches up as the waves of pleasure carry over you again. Honestly, you hadn’t felt anything like it before. It almost felt inhuman. The whimpers were now replaced with a slightly louder moan. You start slowly grinding at the air, hoping for any contact with him. His touch on your clit was all you could think about.

"That’s it, good girl. God, you deserve this more than anyone right now." The Doctor says. The Doctor continues to work on your clit, starting with soft cat-like licks. His hands ran slowly up your calves.

This was it. The moment the Doctor had been waiting for, the moment to be close to you. It was never how he imagined it, but honestly, he would have cared less. To run his hands up your legs as the Doctor continued to tease you felt like something the Doctor would come up with on a boring night in the TARDIS. It reminds him of all the times he daydreams about unbuttoning those perfect blouses you always wore when there was an important meeting you have to attend. Sure, those types of daydreams were few and far between. It didn’t stop his sick imagination much from thinking about it anyway whenever you got just a little too close to his face.

You could hardly contain every moan or groan that came out of your body. It felt involuntary. Your soft hands move down and grab a part of the Doctor's luscious dark brown hair. The desire for him to be rougher with you was growing stronger by the minute. Sure, being romantic and sensual is always an idea you love. But this is the Doctor. Everything is different with him. With the Doctor, the romance could be thrown aside if he wants. If he wants to tie you up and degrade you, you are willing to buy the rope and let your eyes roll into the back of your skull for pleasure.

"More," you encourage, "Don’t be scared. I don’t bite."

The Doctor’s eyes look up at you, meeting your eyes.

Your eyes seemly convey everything he thought about on the humble drive over. The emphatic love you two have been feeling, along with the unchecked sexual tension the two of you also have. The Doctor went from soft and cat-like to expansive and slow. He relaxes the back of his tongue against your clit and moans, his delicate eyes still looking up at you.

The sense of human eye contact can be used in many ways. And it is clear that as your eyes start to flutter, you are closing in on your climax. The Doctor knows that he has to keep an invariant pace so as not to lose the orgasm. Most people would describe a good peak as “seeing stars” or “leg shaking.” Yours, however, was more like seeing a whole nebula and jittering. As the spasm came and went, your vision went from blurry to clear in seconds. You sit up on the couch, looking down at a kneeing Doctor.

Touching his cheek with your hand, the Doctor smiles, grazing his smile against it.

Your eyes go wide at a sudden realization, "Doctor, you didn’t–"

Before you can finish your sentence, the Doctor sits next to you on the couch.

"That’s not what matters. What matters is that you did." He spreads his arms out, pulling you into a hug. You roll your eyes jokingly and hug him back.

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[spidybaby]

i need a toxic pedri he's jealous of your friendship with Gavi because when they both meet you Gavi had a crush on you that he never confess because Pedro made a move first

Bad kind of butterflies

Summary: Pedri let the insecurities of his friend become his own. Ruining his own relationship and friendship.

Warnings: cursing, asshole!Pedri, toxic relationship, asshole!Eric, fighting, drunk driving.

Part two

Your relationship is not new. You have been together for almost three years now. You will describe the relationship as something lovely and where the two of you support each other.

You will go to every game he has, every competition for the team, supporting his new line, loving his photoshoots, and watching every interview.

Him, he would support you through everything. He will drop you off at college. Even if you didn't agree at first, he would help you study. Always loving how smart and dedicated you're to became a professional.

But if you ask someone in your circle their opinions about the relationship, they would say that you became toxic.

Well, you, it is a misunderstanding. He became toxic.

You meet the team thanks to your friend Sira, she was dating Ferran and he introduced you to his circle.

The circle in question was Gavi, Eric, Alejandro, and Pedri.

When you meet them, your eyes only focused on the dark-haired boy. To him, it was the same. He was quick to make conversation, taking any other friend the opportunity to do it.

But you became closer to the other guys, specifically with Pablo. He became your friend quickly. He was such a supportive friend. And the best part was that he was the best friend of your boyfriend.

Pedro wasn't the jealous type. Sure, he got jealous from time to time, like a normal person. But he wasn't one to feel jealous of other people around.

Being an elite football player makes him feel less insecure than the others. He knew he was all that, and you made him feel even more like all that.

You always made him feel like the center of the universe, and he reciprocated that feeling for you. Having all the girls throwing themselves at him at first made you feel insecure, but he quickly told off that feeling with actions that proved to you he was a loyal one.

To him, everything changed when Eric one night called him drunk, asking him to pick him up from this bar in Barcelona.

When he, as a friend, went there and picked him up, he took him to his house, Eric didn't even knew where his keys were.

Eric was drunk crying, confessing that his girlfriend cheated on him with dude she met at college. How he was so heartbroken.

Naturally, he felt super bad for him, and the thoughts came, the insecurities got to his head.

He called you, knowing you were doing some homework and were pulling an all nighter.

"Hi, mi amor."

"Hey, am I bothering you?"

"When have you ever bother me?"

He fell quiet. He was answering that question on his mind, all the times he asked you to drop something to go to his games, all the times he asked you to move all you thing to his house so he could spend time with you, making you uncomfortable while studying.

"Pedri? Amor?"

"I'm here, I'm just tired."

But you were tired too, it was almost two am. And to him, it was easy. He had a free day, but you were going to wake up really early to go to class. Even if you had only one hour of sleep.

"Don't you want to come over? I'm almost done, and we can cuddle in bed."

"You need sleep."

"So do you, so if you want, the invitation is still there. I'm going to be here for another half hour."

He drove over to your place, wanting to take these insecure thoughts out of his mind.

And you did take all that out of his mind by showing him that he was the only one you wanted by your side.

After that, he was a big support for Eric. He wanted his friend to feel better. He invited him to stay a few hours after practice.

Pablo was helping Pedro with supporting their friend. He brought some candies and things to make him feel better.

They spent most days after practice playing fifa and chatting. Ferran then joined the heartbreak club, Sira and him called it quits.

Ferran felt uncomfortable with you around, so you told Pedro that you were meeting him when they left the house.

Mostly because you didn't want his friends to feel some type of way about you.

The second time Pedro felt different about the relationship was the night Eric confessed something to him.

"I don't know how you can be so open with Gavi about your relationship."

"Gavi is mine and my girlfriend friend. I don't see the problem."

"But aren't you uncomfortable about his crush on your girlfriend?"

Pedro stopped on his tracks. He was confused about why Eric would think that. Gavi never gave any signs about him liking you.

"No sé a que te refieres con eso." (I don't know what you mean by that.")

"No me vengas a decir que no sabes." (Don't tell me you don't know)

"I think you're confused. Just because Gavi is friendly with her doesn't mean he has a crush."

He thought he let it go. But was laying down in bad with you. You were telling him about a video Pablo sent you of a recipe.

Pablo had a crush on you?

But this time, he did brush that off. Not believing his friend would have a crush on his girlfriend.

"Hey, maybe we can do something this weekend?"

"I thought we were having a movie marathon with Pablo. You wanted to see all the conjuring movies, bebé"

He graps his arms around while putting your phone away from you, kissing you cheek and neck.

"Maybe I just want you to myself."

The way his kisses feel on your skin, the intoxicating sensation he makes you feel with his fingers.

"All to myself." He whispers, kissing your lips while he pounds into you.

Your moans all to himself, your lips letting his name out, his lips marking your skin.

His and only his.

🪷🪷🪷

"Let me call my girlfriend, and we are on our way."

Pedri, dial your number. He let the call on Bluetooth while turning the car on. The beep goes once, twice, and then into voice mail. You rejected his call.

"Ohhh, someone's getting rejected." Ferran laughs. He loves to pick on him to get a reaction.

"Oh shut up, she's just busy."

He dials your number again, making his way out of his garage.

"Hello, Y/n is in the bathroom. She will call you when she's out." The voice of a man makes him press the break hard. He hung up without Pedri being able to talk.

Ferran and eric laugh as hard as they can. The expression on their friend is a shocked one, his mouth open and brows furrowed.

"Wait that was so fucking funny, he hang up on you."

"Where did you say she was?" Eric asks, "Well, it doesn't matter cause she was busy, and that dude was kinda in a rush to hang up."

"Okay, stop it, Eric." Ferran warns him. "She's probably studying and you heard the dude she's in the bathroom."

"Don't know, that's what my bitch of an ex used to told me 《oh Eric, I was busy studying》, yeah studying another boy's dick."

"She's not like that." Pedri finally says, closing the garage with the control. "She's on finals."

"If you say so." Eric lifts his hands as a piece sign. "Let's just drive, we're going to be late."

The drive was silent, Ferran tried to make conversation, but Pedri and his single answers were not it.

His ring tone interrupts the silence. He presses the green button on his wheel. "Hola hermosa."

"Hola, I'm sorry I didn't answer. I left my phone here while using the bathroom, and Kyle answered the phone."

"Ohhh Kyle." Eric whispers to them.

Ferran pushed him back to the seat. Whispering him to shut up.

"It's okay, I was just calling to check on you."

"Stop it, Eric." Ferran warns once he sees Eric was about to speak again.

"I'm fine, Kyle is dropping me home, I can ask him to drop me at your place if you're free."

"I'm actually with Ferran and Eric, but feel free to go there and relax. You have some clothes there and you can order some takeout. I'll join you in a while."

"Okay, I'll be waiting for you, te amo."

"Yo más, goodbye baby."

He can feel a relief that was unexpected. He knew Kyle. He was your friend and study buddy since the beginning.

"Good thing she was just using the bathroom, right Eric?" Ferran pinch him. Making him yelp. "Fucking say it." He whispers.

"Yes, she was using the bathroom." He says with a bored tone. Making ferran roll his eyes.

The mood for Pedri changed. He was now talking, and Ferran noticed that. They made some jokes until they parked outside of the place they're going to.

The time they spent there was nice. You texted Pedri that you were at his place, a picture attached where you sent him a kiss with the "have fun" text next to it.

But he wanted to hurry up, feeling like cuddling you, like kissing you. Ferran also wanted to keep the stay a little shorter, wanting to relax at home with his family.

They dropped Eric first, saying their goodbyes to their teammate. Ferran knew he wanted to speak about the call incident.

"I want to tell you something."

"Yeah, whatever you want tiburón."

"Eric, he's still not in the right place about his breakup. And that doesn't mean he's allowed to put ideas in your head. Don't let him do that."

"He's just, so fucking extra sometimes." He sighs, wrapping hard on the steering wheel. "I know he's hurt, and sometimes he just projects on me and y/n."

"Don't let him do that." Ferran pats his arm. "I know that with the whole Sira breakup thing, her and me haven't really talked. But she's a nice girl, I know her."

"Yeah, she used to come over after you left so you didn't feel uncomfortable."

"Such a sweetheart." He laughs. "But I'm serious. She's a nice one. Take care of her."

"I will, I love her."

Ferran got out of the car after telling him to tell you hello. Thing he said once he was wrapped in your arms, watching a movie and eating takeout.

After that night

Two weeks has passed, two weeks where the texts, the calls and the meetings were barely there.

You were on your last year of college, and these finals were very important for you. If you pointed well you were able to get more job opportunities.

Pedri felt frustrated. He knew he shouldn't let Eric fucked up with his mind. But he also doesn't want his friend to feel pushed away.

He trusts you with his life. He wanted the long run with you. And nobody was getting in the way of that.

Today was your last final, the last one of the whole curriculum. You were extra excited about it.

Asking Pedri to pick you up so you can go get something to eat after in a celebration mode. He bought flowers for you and a special charm for your bracelet. He knows you love collecting charms for extra special moments.

He parks under a three, a little far more than usual, but he doesn't want to be seen. Wanting all his attention on you.

You texted him that you were out of the test and to send you where he was, wanting to walk to relieve the last bit of stress.

"Are you going to the party?" Kyle asks you.

"Obvio, I'm not missing this. It's all I need"

"Same, I'm ready to chug a whole bottle of reposado."

"Añejo is better, Ky."

Kyle walked you over to Pedri's car, feeling the same about walking to leave the stress of the test.

"Are we doing shots and partnering in beer pong?"

"Duh, you're the only person I would to this with. Nobody does it like you."

Pedri has his window a little down. He can hear the conversation, but to his "luck," he only heard the last five words.

He takes eyes on the way Kyle says goodbye to you, the way his hands are a little more down than necessary.

He squint his eyes, getting that out of his mind. He trusts you. He does.

"Hola, mi amor." You say, closing the car door.

You grab his face into your hands, giving him a kiss. Thing he reciprocate, missing the taste of you and the way you smell.

"Te amo." You say, pecking him "I missed you, bebé."

"You have me all to yourself, princesa." He pecks you back. "Let's go, I made reservations to your favorite stake place."

You grab your backpack to move it to the back of the car, your eyes lay on the bouquet of peonies, and the Tiffany box.

"A little something for you." He squish your thigh.

You grab the bouquet, smelling the flowers. "I love it, I love you"

"I love you more. You're such a smart girl."

You take a picture of the bouquet, posting it to your close friends with the text "blessed with him ❤️" tagging him, even tho he can't repost it.

The food was exquisite. You loved the place. He was breaking his diet, but he was doing it for a good reason.

"I have a party today, do you want to come with me?"

"I have to go to the gym with the team, but I can join after."

"You will be tired, it's okay." You say, feeding him some ice cream. "I'm asking Kyle to pick me up on his way there, we will take an Uber because we both want to drink."

He tense at the name of your friend. He feels so bad about the way his body reacts to things he never felt worried about.

"I can drop you guys off, and tomorrow I don't have to play so I can pick you up when you're ready to go home."

You nod smiling. "I'll text Ky, thank you, amor."

He can't help the guilt. He's doing this so he can prevent you from being alone in an Uber with Kyle. Not because he wants to take you there.

You text your friend, who asks you to thank him. Kyle never met Pedri due to always being a lap of schedules that made them not met.

Back on your way home, you were singing some Quevedo. You were happy and nothing can take that feeling away.

"Open your other gift." He parks the car in the parking lot of your building.

You do as you're told, seeing the silver charm with tiny crystals. You smile, asking him to help with locking it in place.

"I love you, you didn't have to. Thank you."

"I love you, smart girl. You deserve more than that."

He kisses you goodbye, observing you while you go into the elevator and then going into practice.

The gym training was boring. He was with Marc Guiu, Ter Stegen, Fermin, and Araujo, but the exercises were solo ones.

Ter Stegen was telling them a story about something that happened to him with a fan. Everybody was laughing and chatting.

In the end, he and Fermin were the last ones to pick their things. They were chatting while walking outside.

"How is College?"

"It's great, crazy. More now that I'm with the first team."

"You're a heartbreaker." He laughs. "Too many girls?"

"I'm interested in one. But I don't know, he's very shy and very focused in college." He sighs. "And I'm a football player."

"Shoot your shot. My girlfriend just finished college, and we have been together since her third year."

"Will do, take care." He waves Pedro goodbye.

He drove over to your house. He was waiting for you to get ready while he crashed your bed.

"I forgot to bring snacks." He pout, he was craving something.

"I have the crackers your doctor approved." You kiss his cheek, "go get them."

He walks with such no motivation to your kitchen, opening the drawer where you order all your snacks.

He found a box of chocolate with a bite attached. "For my smart girl. K❤️" He throws the box back into the drawer. Appetite gone.

"What if you stay here with me?" He asks, using the frame of the door as a recliner. "I just feel like I haven't seen you in so long."

"Well. I'm all yours after the party."

"So you're not even considering not going to stay with me?"

You turn to him, not sure why he's acting like that when he's the one who encourages you to go out and relax. "Are you okay?"

"No, you don't want to spend time with me. You just want to party and be with your friends and I have feelings too, I miss you too. I'm just tired."

"Amor, you can go home and call it a night. You don't need me for that. I can ask Sira to pick me up and drop me off."

"That's not the point." He squinted his eyes mad. "You prefer to go out than to spend time with me."

"Pedro, relax!" You say, tone serious. "I've been planning to go to this party for a good month now. I help with it. Im not missing it. I deserve this after my hard work."

"That's not the point." He says, angry out of nowhere. "You don't get it." He grabs his wallet and keys, walking out of the room.

"Pedro, seriously?" You can't believe he's walking out like that. "Pedro!"

You hear the door closing. You wanted to go out and ask him to stay, but you didn't. You gave him his time. He's tired and just having a bad night, you think.

You text Sira, asking her to come over so you can go together. Thing she agreed on, texting Kyle that you were picking him up with Sira.

"I love your shorts." Sira says, smacking you. "But that top, maybe a staples one?"

"I like this, I'm not feeling like wearing a strapless."

"Okay, what's with the face?" She grab you by the shoulders, making you turn. "Why are you so blue?"

"Pedro was here. He was supposed to drop me off, but he told me I was only interested in the party and not on him."

"What?" Sira's face is a poem. She has this doubtful expression. "Pedro as in Pedri? What the hell?"

"Maybe he's right." You feel guilty. "Maybe he's going through something, and he doesn't know how to tell me."

"Well, guilt tripping you is not the answer." She hugs you. "We're going, and you're having fun."

You nod, still feeling guilty over going and not calling to fix things with him.

"Now, help me with my makeup." She sits at your vanity. "Hey, stop. You deserve to have fun."

You smile, repeating her words. You deserve to have fun. You grab her makeup bag, helping her with her base and eyeshadow.

Once you're ready, you take out a mini bottle of patron and two shot glasses. Pre gaming with her. "Hey, slow down, you're driving."

"I can do both perfectly, you know that."

You do another shot and left to pick your friend. The trip there was fun, singing with her and Kyle to this Nicki Minaj song.

The party was great, you can say you did drink a little bit more than usual, feeling a bad taste on your mouth after the fight.

"Okay, chug chug chug," Sira cheers you, as you and Karla, your friend in common, are competing on who can drink a long island the fastest.

"Ughh, that was disgusting." You say laughing. "I need a bathroom, I'm going to throw up."

You grab someone's hand, dragging this person to the bathroom with you. You never throw up while drinking, but this time, you kinda get a little crazy on mixing.

"You have luck I have a strong stomach."

"I want my bed." You whisper. "And a blanket."

"Okay, stay here, I'm bringing you water and a mint cause iugh. And I'm asking Sira to go."

"Love you, Ky." You hug his leg, making him laugh. "You're my bestie. Am I your bestie?"

"Sadly, you and your week stomach are my besties." He pets you in the head.

Yourusername has added to their story

Pedri was home, bag under his eyes after not being able to sleep, he wonders if you had a nice night, if you were okay.

He replays the story time and time and time again. Sira was with you, so you were okay. You never leave without the other.

He gets your favorite drink and food, knowing you will have a craving of those.

He knocks on your door. It's already almost night, so he's sure Sira and your other friends are gone.

A very destroyed you open the door. You look like you had a little too much fun. He smiles at your sight.

"I got you some food and a drink."

"Food first." You smile, he hands you the bag and drink. You moan hapilly at the taste of the drink. "Okay, you can come in."

"Had some fun?" He kisses your cheek.

"Mhm, a lot." You say opening the bag. "But I kinda got a little more drunk than normal."

He nods, not sure how to address the situation. But you decide to go first.

"I don't like the way you left last night." You look at him. "You don't act like that. Is there something going on? Are you okay?"

"I'm okay, I just got insecure or something I'm not sure. Perdón."

"I get that, but please don't do that again."

He wraps his arms around you, kissing your neck, promising not to act like that again and to be more open about his feelings.

🪷🪷🪷

"I love the smell of roses." You say grabbing a red rose.

You were hanging around with Kyle. He was supervising the flower shop his parents had. They were one of the most exclusive flower shops in Barcelona.

"You can grab some, mom won't mind."

"If I get an invoice for this, I'm killing you."

He laughs, you pick out of the big wall that was there. You loved how the roses look so pretty, no matter the color.

"You own me lunch."

"I gave you flowers," He says, funny tone. "Isn't that enough?"

"To take me home?" You ask, imitating his tone. "Invite me to dinner first and then we can head home."

You laugh, he picks his things and tells the girls that are there working to keep an eye for him while he eats lunch.

"What do you want and why is it sushi?"

You smile, you like the rice that the sushi places sell, even tho you're not the biggest sushi fan you liked some pieces.

"I want some rice."

You saw the texts of Pedri, ignoring them. You were mad at him.

He told you, not even asked, told you that he didn't want you out with Kyle because he thought that he had feelings for you.

You had a big fight about it. Asking him to leave. You ignored his calls, texts, and even when he went to your house.

Maybe being with Kyle was not the answer, but he was your friend since the beginning of the career.

He was there for you when you had nobody and you reciprocate that for him. Being his support as much as he was your support.

"Are you okay?" He hugs you by the shoulders. "We can go get some pizza if you want."

"Yes, just a little sleepy."

You never told anybody your fights with Pedro, Sira was an exception for time to time. But that time to time was almost never.

You order food, deciding for some sushi rolls. Kyle noticing how sad you were decided that he wanted some sushi and some other things.

"Wait, lemme take a picture for insta"

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Pedro saw the pictures, blood boiling as he thought he was clear about how he didn't feel nice about this dude being your friend.

"What's wrong?" Eric asks, noticing how he threw his phone into his bag.

"This fucking Kyle dude, fucking on my nerves." He sighs. "I told her I don't like him and she's out with him."

"And you're doing nothing about it?"

"What am I supposed to do?"

"Fucking go to her and ask her to respect you, you're not a fucking college common guy, you're Pedri. Don't forget that."

Ferran wants to say something, but Pedri grabs his bag and runs out of the door.

"You're way out of line." He stops Eric at the corridor. "Stop giving Pedri your stupid advice."

"Stupid advice?" He laughs, "she's probably fucking that dude and you're on her side?"

"She's not like that."

"Just because you want her to help you go back to Sira doesn't mean she's a saint."

"Fucking stop, Eric." He yells. "Keep your problems away from Pedri and his relationship. Just because you weren't man enough for your ex doesn't mean Pedri is like you."

While the two of them yell at each other, Pedri is driving to your place. He needs to talk with you, Eric was right.

You're his girlfriend, and he needs his to feel respected. Thing he's not feeling right now.

He dials your number two times, both ending in voice mail. His anger just grows.

You and Kyle were talking in the parking lot. He needed to go back to the flower shop but also wanted to make sure you're okay.

"You can trust me, I'm not judging."

You feel your tears floot your eyes, you want to believe that Pedro was going through something and that this person who talks to you like that was not the man you love.

You hug your friend, crying in his chest. He didn't ask anything else, he knew you needed time.

"Hey, I'm here. Don't cry." His hands run up and down your back. Thing that smooth you a little.

"I don't know how to explain what's going on." You say, tears falling. "I'm just so confused."

"It's okay, you're okay now."

His hands hugging your body to gave you confort. Thing you can't seem to find.

You heard the loud noise of a car break. Making you turn your head. Pedro was looking at you from the inside of his car.

You push Kyle away from you, but his hands grab your arms. "Kyle, I think you need to go."

"What?" He's confused. Why would you ask him that? and why was your boyfriend looking like he could kill someone?

Pedri slams his car door. You let Kyle go. "Pedri, what are you doing?" You tried to grab his hand but he moved around you to where your friend is. You let a scream out when Pedro's fist impacts Kyle's cheek.

You freeze in shock. The man who's the least confrontational just punched your friend. And the worst part is that it is out of nowhere.

"What the actual fuck?" Kyle screams from the floor. Spitting blood. Lip cut open from the impact. "Are you fucking crazy?"

You can't register what he replied. When he turns around to you. You back off until your body hits his car.

"Get in the car." He grabs you by the wrist, not hurting you but making you walk. Your friend is on the floor, bleeding from the punch your boyfriend gave him.

Pedro puts the seat belt on you, your shock still there, like a fever dream.

You have a nauseous feeling. Just five minutes ago, you were crying about not knowing when he turned into this jealous boy and now he punched your friend.

The drive was silent. You feel hazy, closing your eyes. His breathing is heavy, his hands gripping the wheel so hard to make the leader squeak under his grip.

You feel the car stopping, opening your eyes to see that you're in his house. You don't want to exit the vehicle.

"You punched my friend." You whisper. "Pedro, que carajos?" (What the fuck?)

"Let's go inside." He get out to go to your side to open the door, but you press the lock button. "Y/n, don't play with me. Please get off."

"You punched my friend." You yell this time. "I want to go home. I'm not getting out."

"Get off." He unlocks the door with the control, but you again locked it. "Y/n, please."

"Are you out of your mind?" You ask, crying out of anxiety. "What is wrong with you? This is not you, I want to go."

His expression softens. It's like he's in a state of mind where he can't control himself. You're hyperventilating. Locked in his car.

"Princesa, por favor." He takes a few steps away. "I'm not hurting you, I will never. Just get off and let's talk."

He let you cry, feeling terrible for making you feel insecure around him. Making you feel like he's not your safe place.

"I'm fucking sorry." He says. "I don't know what's wrong with me, I'm not like that, I don't hurt people."

His hand hurts, his heart hurts, and his head hurts.

"Can you please get out of the car?"

You breathe a few times, and you unlock the car and open the door. He wants to have his arms around you.

You notice his hand is red. You know he's not hurting you. He won't. Never did, never will.

"Your hand."

"It doesn't matter."

You grab his wrist, guiding him inside of his house and to his bedroom. Once you're inside, you check for the aid kit.

With a baby wipe and alcohol you clean his hand, and his expression shows pain. You apply some cream to make it better.

"What's on your mind?" You ask, narrowed eyes. "You're not this person. You don't hit people. You don't do shit like this."

"I'm fucking sorry"

"Sorry is not enough."

"Don't say that."

"Pedro, tell me what's going on. Kyle and I have been friends since before you and I even met."

He can't look at you, eyes stick to the ground. You're someone who takes her friendships seriously. You love to nurse your friends, be there for them.

"If I'm with you, that means I'm not looking at any other dudes. Pedro you're the only one for me."

"And you're the only one for me." He finally looks at you. "I don't know what's going on, Eric and his stupid advice are ruining my mind."

"Why are you letting your friend who's bitter about his ex give you relationship advice?" You ask, angry. "Pedro, our relationship is only ours. You don't see me say that Sira or Karla are giving me advice on punching Gavi in the face because you're getting shipped on tik tok."

"I'm dumb. I'm fucking dumb for that."

You rub the rest of the cream, massaging the area to smooth his bruise.

"You're not dumb. You're such a smart man." You press a little harder than necessary, making him hiss. "So I need you to use that intelligence to understand that if you keep doing this shit, you're losing me."

His whole body tense, he can't see a day without you by his side. You're his ride or die. You're the person who taught him how to be a man.

"I can't lose you."

"Well, get your shit together then." You let his hand go, standing up. "Pedro, you're not this person, and I'm not staying if you chose to act like this from now on."

"I'm not, love, please don't go."

He hugs your waist, head on your belly. You feel his shoulders shake. He was crying at the thought of you leaving.

You don't hug him back. You don't caress his back. You don't feel like touching him more than you already did.

"You need to think of what you did. A few days apart will help."

You slowly push his arms away, you wanted to cry, but you know you have to wait till you're alone yo do it.

"Please no."

You got away from him. You take your phone out of your bag, call an Uber, and text your friend to see if you can crash her place.

Sira told you she was close to where you were, and she was picking you up. While that happened, you noticed Pedro crying into his hands.

You take a seat next to him. He's into the idea that he lost you. All because of something that he never even cared about.

"I'm leaving." You say after a while, Sira was outside. "Pedro, I need you to understand why this is happening, you need time to think and so do I."

You kiss his shoulder. Head still in his hands. You walk over to his front door. You want to keep composure, but you didn't even make it to the car when the tears began.

Sira didn't question you. She just started the car on her way to her house. Once you both are in her room, you're crying in her arms, letting all the pain go.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

You nod, feeling better now that you let the tears out. She dried your tears with a tissue.

You tell her everything, how the situation went from him not wanting you to go to the party from him punching Kyle and yelling you that it was because of Eric and his advices.

"I'm sorry if this is not what you want to hear, but you should break up with him. He's becoming controlling, and that's not cute."

You shake your head no, you don't want to think about breaking up without fighting for the relationship to work.

"I can help him." You whisper. "He's just letting Eric get into his head."

"Y/n, he punched our friend over a stupid advice."

"He's not like that."

Sira decides to remain silent. She knows you're not hearing anybody. You're too attached to him to even consider the leaving option.

"Okay, I'm here for you whatever you decide."

🪷🪷🪷

Ten days later and Pedro still hasn't heard from you.

He knows you were in Paris and horse riding with Sira. You were also doing other things with your classmates.

You answered his texts with a heart or with another emoji, but you won't answer his calls or FaceTime.

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"Can I have my sunglasses back?"

"No, they fit me better."

"We are wearing the same outfit." You laugh. "Hey I'm sure you will do amazing at your competition."

"I have the best cheerleader." She says, hugging and kissing your cheek. "I love you."

"Love you more." You hug her back. "Thank you for being the for me this past days, I needed that so much."

"Are you calling him today?"

"Yes, it's been almost two weeks, and I think we both had out time to think and calm down."

"Do you know how is him?"

"Gavi updates me on what he's on." You confess. "We been talking a lot, you know I love that kid like a little brother."

"He's nice." She agreed. "I love his eyebrows. They have life."

You both laugh, Gavi does have very active expression eyebrows. Thing that makes him even more memorable.

You return home, thanking her for the day with the horses. You take a shower to relax and think about what you're telling him.

He was doing a lot, sending flowers, texting you every day like he always does. Kyle and you were fine. He was just keeping a little distance for now because he's still very mad at him.

You were finishing your skincare routine when you heard a knock on the door. You ignore it, not wanting to go open the door.

But the knocks sound again after a few minutes, and you roll your eyes. Throwing a hoodie over and walking to the door.

You find a very happy Gavi. He was carrying a box of something and had another bag in his hands.

"Hola." He walks inside. Leaving the box and bag in the kitchen aisle. "I'm a messenger. And I have to give you this."

You check the things, a bag full of your favorite snacks and drinks. And the box is a dozen of your favorite pastries.

"Pedri?" You ask, bitting your lip happyly. "Thank you, messenger."

"I charge one of those." He points at the box. Making you roll your eyes in a funny way. "Please."

"Take two."

He did as told. Using a napkin as a plate.

"Want to see a movie now that you're here?" You smile.

"A scary movie?" He raised his eyebrow. Remembering your chat with Sira, you laugh.

"Yes, a scary movie."

He sends a picture to Pedri, letting him know that you got his message and that they were seeing a movie.

"So, how was Paris?"

"It was amazing, I saw Mbappé." You smile. "And it was a good game. They won."

You chat a little while the movie gets good. You were watching the last movie of the conjuring, the one that Pablo hasn't seen.

"Hey, why don't you come to the photoshot we have with this new kit.

"When is it?" You ask confused, thinking that they already did something like this. "Don't you already did that?"

"Yes, but I mean, they always want more content for social media."

"Is Pedro going?"

"Don't think so. He's in the social media team of Alyssa. We're with Antonia."

"Will go if you take me to his house after."

"Deal."

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You smile at the way Pablo and Alejandro shy out with the camera. They're getting scolded by Antonia.

"I'm sorry guys, but the last video I promise, just smile."

The day went fast. They filmed enough content for a while. Not wanting to keep doing it, Antonia let them go.

"Let's go, madame, we're heading to your prince charming house."

"Can I drive?" You ask, running to the pilot door. "I'm about to get my license."

"What if the police stop us?"

"Then you give them free tickets and we're free"

He laughs, throwing the keys at you. You were so excited about being able to drive. Pedri taught you how to do it. During those late night drives.

"Do you know the way?"

"Of course, my horse." You tap his nose with your finger. You love doing that cause of his facial expression. "Want to know a secret?"

"Si."

"Sira and I love how your eyebrows move depending on your mood."

He blushes, his ex used to say the same thing. His eyebrows had a life.

"They're my best card."

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He told you about the next games and how the team was training hard, things you're used to hearing because of Pedri.

"We're here," you announced to him, who was texting. "Thank you for the drive. Have fun, Pablito."

You both say your goodbyes, you enter Pedro's house with the spare key he gave you.

The house was silent, way too silent for your liking. You knew Fernando was in Tenerife with his parents, so you didn't really find weird not seeing him cooking or working on something.

You left your bag and key in the kitchen aisle, walking upstairs to look up for him.

The sound of the shower gave you an answer of where he was. You can see the steem coming out of the little door opening.

You take your shoes off, walking to the closet and changing into the pajama set you have there. You get into bed, making yourself comfortable in the sheets.

Not even five minutes later, you heard him moving into the bathroom, moving things, even singing lightly to a Quevedo song.

When he's out, he jumps a little, happy but surprised to see you there.

"Me has dejado cagado eh!" (You scare me)

"Perdón, I didn't want to interrupt your shower." You can't help but wonder your eyes up and down his body.

He smirked, walking to where you're to peck your lips. "I missed you. Let me change, and we can talk." You spank his ass when he turned around. "Oye, that's playing dirty."

He was giving you a show, walking around so you could peak at him while he changed. You turn your head so you can focus on the reason on why you were there.

But you didn't mind having an after sex talk with him. In the end, he was the one who needed to make it up to you.

"Ready, princesa." He jumps in bed. Arm around you. "I missed you so much, mi vida"

"So did I." You caress his almost dry hair. "How was your dar, amor?"

"Do you really want to know?" He laughs. "Or should we address the elephant in the room?"

"You're such an inpatient, Pedro." You pinch his cheek. "But yes, sit."

He sits, crossing his legs in front of you. You accommodate his hair, untangling his locks. He grabs your wrists, bringing your hands to his mouth, kissing your knuckles.

"I'm sorry." He began. "You're the most important person in my life. I don't know why I thought it was a good idea to let Eric advise me on relationships. But it's not on him. It's on me who did such crazy things like hitting your friend. I'm sorry, I don't want to lose you."

You grab his face, pushing him towards you. Lips collapsing. You fell into bed, lips still attached.

"Please don't do this again." You peck him. "I love you so much."

"I love you, princesa."

"Now love me in the way only you can."

"Will do." He laughs, kneeling and taking his shirt off while you unbutton your own.

🪷🪷🪷

"Wooow, such a model." Pablo says, clapping his hands. "I like this one better than the black one."

"I like this one too." You say observing your reflection. "I think this is the one."

"Finally, I'm hungry."

You changed, not before taking a picture to send to your friends. You asked the girl that was helping you that you were taking the dress and to pack it up for you.

"I want Chinese. Do you want some?" You ask Gavi. He was on his phone with his mad face. "What's going on Pablito?"

"Nothing." He pout.

You pay for the dress and walk with him to the basement where the car is. He keeps this pouty face.

He parked at the Chinese restaurant that he liked the most. You want to talk to him about his mood.

You order the food, you text Pedri that you had the dress for the wedding. But what worries you is the boy in front of you.

"Pablito, mi vida. Tell me what's going on."

"I'm not sure, I'm talking with this girl, and we were fine, but these stupid rumors about me and other girls are ruining the chances I had."

"Don't worry, Pablito. You're such a kind-hearted dude. You just had to make her see who you really are."

"What can I do?" He asks, tired of trying and failing.

"Invite her to the wedding." You smile. "If she's from Barcelona, why not?"

"But, what if she says no?"

"You already have the no, but if you ask, you might get a yes."

"You're such a smart girl." He texts happily, asking you what to write and how to invite her properly.

You offer yourself to help his "friend" go get a dress or borrow her one of your own. He was happy with the offer, asking her about it to let her decide.

"Okay, I'll see you tomorrow. If she needs help with the hair and makeup, I can help, I'm kinda good at that."

"Gracias, you're the best." He kisses your cheek. You say your goodbyes to him, hurrying upstairs yo try on the dress again and match it with some shoes.

pedri has added to their story

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"Are you ready to go?" Pedri asks, kissing your cheek. "I'm obsessed with how you look."

You kiss him carefully because of the lipstick. You loved the way he made you feel like so special.

"Let's go, mi amor."

The drive to the venue was a little longer than you thought. You pictured the place being a little closer to his place than what actually is.

"I hope we find parking."

"It's kinda early."

Lucky for you, there were some available spots. You notice Gavi's car. You smile at the thought of him and his date. Hoping everything is well for him.

"Hola, you guys are early birds just like us I see."

To your luck, the table was full of people you know. Alejandro, Robert, Gavi and Eric, and Ferran.

"Una putada, early to a party but late for training." Pedri laughs, saying hi to all the table.

"Anna, Robert, you guys look amazing." You say, "Anna, I love that dress on you."

"Thank you, but what about you? You look like a movie star, shining all around."

"Thank you." You blush at her comments.

The party began not that much later. Many other playmates joined the venue. The party was great.

The bride and groom gave their welcome words, thanking everybody. Did their first dance and later on announced the food.

You made conversation with Ferran, asking him about something silly, while Pedri and Anna chatted about football.

After the food, the dance began, and so did the open bar. You wanted one drink but were too full to get it at the moment.

Ana and Robert were the ones who got to the dance floor first, inviting you all to the table to dance.

You followed them. Even when Pedri didn't like to dance, he would do it for you. "I love you." He kisses you while dancing with you.

You finally chose to go get that drink, Ferran with you because he was feeling some on the rocks.

When you go back, you notice Pedri sat down at the table talking with Alejandro. "Hey, I'm joining them, I'm resting a little." He nodded, grabbing the person he was dancing with again.

"Hola hola, got tired of dancing?" You joke with Pedri. He moves the chair for you, hugging you with his arm.

"Hey, Y/n." Alejandro called you, "how is college going on?"

"Good, I just finished with the curriculum, and we'll I'm working on other things."

"Nice, good for you."

"Excuse me, please." Gavi's date says, walking back to the table and picking up her purse.

Gavi hurried with her outside of the venue. You followed them with your eyes, worried that something might have gone wrong.

"Hey, I'll be back, I'm going to the bathroom." You tell pedri, he nods in response.

You walked outside to where Gavi and his date were, they were fighting about something and where this girl sees you, she reprimanded Gavi about it.

She walks away from the scene, Gavi turns to you, head low. "I fucking hate Eric." He says.

"What?" You hurry to his side. "What's going on, Pablito?"

"That fucking asshole told her that I had a crush on you. And that I have been in love with you since I met you. Que mierda?"

"He did what?"

"He fucking did, I'm going to punch him in the fucking face."

You stopped him, not wanting the party to be ruined about this. "Pablito no, not here. Please."

"He fucking deserves it." He yells.

"I know, but not here. Look, call her, explain.to her your feelings."

"She's not answering." He buffs.

"Try, Gavira." You hit him.in the head.

He dials her number several times, each getting into voice mail. You feel bad about what happened, angry at the asshole of Eric.

"What if you send a voice note to her inbox?"

"And say what?"

You ask for his phone, opening iMessage and searching for her name.

"How do you feel?" You ask, recording what he was about to say in a voice note.

"I just feel like an idiot because I've never met someone so special and someone so fucking pretty, super dedicated to what she does, and super smart, someone who every guy will die to be with. You're the only one I think about in the morning when I wake up, the one I want to call after training or have on the bleachers with my number on her back. You, just you."

You smile, finishing with the recording of the message. You know how important it is for him

"Qué mierda esta pasando?" Pedri asks.

Pablo turns to him. Pedri doesn't notice that what he said was for his date and not for you. "Pedro, it's not what you think."

"So this shit is not you telling my girlfriend you're in love with her?"

"Pedri, stop it." You warn him. "Not here. This is not like that."

"Will you shut up?" He said, eyes looking at Pablo and not at you. "I thought we were friends."

"This is not like that." Pablo yells. "Fucking idiot."

He pushes Pedri lightly, entering the venue again. Pedri turns to you, angry expression on his face.

"Let's go."

"You're so stupid if you think I'm leaving with you."

"Don't do this here. Let's go."

You wanted to leave before you get inside and scream at Eric for being such an asshole. "Let me get my things."

You walk inside and grab your things, Pablo was doing the same but when he noticed you he just asked you if you were okay.

"Yeah, we're leaving. Hope you solve things with her." You hug him goodbye. He sat while waiting for a few minutes till you left.

You walk outside, pedri already has the car in front of the door. You debate actually going with him.

"Get in, we're going to my place. You have some explaining to give."

You walk over to the door, slamming it when you get in. you were mad about everything, the ruined night, he being rude to you, rude to Pablo. Eric fucking up as always and Pedro following the train.

"You're such an asshole." You finally say. "You don't even know what the fuck happened and already jumped into conclusions."

"Don't try to defend him."

"I'm not, but you're so out of line, Pedro."

"Don't defend him, y/n."

"He was talking with his date over a voice note because Eric told her that he had a crush on me which is a fucking lie."

"It's not."

"It is, Pedro." You yell, angry at him. "I helped him with the invitation, with getting her a dress, with everything for him to get the girl, if he had a crush on me why would he do that?"

"You did?'

"Yes." You answer like it's obvious. "Pablo is like a little brother to me, you know that. He's your friend, a better one than Eric. Fucking stop with the attitude."

You both stayed silent until you reached his house. When the garage door closes, you immediately get out of the car.

"You were so out of line, you ruined the night for you, for me and for Pablo. I'm so fucking tires of this."

"Stop"

"No, I want to change and to sleep, my night is ruined, and so is yours. Maybe tomorrow you can fix things.

You walk upstairs, grabbing your makeup remover, some towels, your pajamas and other things, and moving yo Fernando's room.

You definitely were not sleeping, wanting to cry and to scream but just cried. He felt the frustration of the night. Pulling an all-nighter, just like you.

🪷🪷🪷

Two days later, you were waiting for Pedro at his house. You wanted to fix things between Pablo and him. You want their friendship to heal. Even tho your relationship was kinda still not well from the last fight.

Pablo was showing you something, his shoulder sticker to yours so you both see the tik tok. You grap your arm around his shoulder, thing you always do.

Pedro was outside doing something with the social media team, or so you thought. He was looking at the two of you from his front door. He was mad about something someone told him.

Wanting to come home and rest and find you two glued to each other was annoying to him. Especially because he was still mad at Gavi.

He clears his throat, making you turn and smile at him.

"Hola." You greet him.

You were expecting him to do the same with you, but he didn't. He just ignored you and went upstairs.

Pablo kept his mouth shut, his teeth clenched because he didn't think that was the way he was supposed to be treating you.

"Maybe he's just mad." You excuse him, thing you do pretty often lately. "Or maybe just tired."

"That doesn't give him the right." Pablo gets up from the couch. "Let's just go, I don't want to be here."

"Wait for me in the car? I just want to get something."

He wants to tell you no and take you to the car. But he also respects your decisions. "Okay, I'll be waiting."

You walk upstairs, following Pedri. His room door was open. He was taking his dirty clothes out of his training bag.

"What was that?" You ask, sitting on his bed. "That was rude."

"Rude is you coming here trying to fix something that I dont want to." He was angry, his voice was low. "Why is he here? I didn't invite him."

You were angry. He was becoming this rude person to you and to his friends.

"Why are you talking like that?" His words were hurting you. It's like a wake-up call you were not ready to answer.

"Because it's the truth, you bring him here uninvited." He shouts.

"What are you even on, Pedro?" You shout, too. "I take time out of my day to fix the shit you have done and try to make things right with our friend because you can't seem to do it."

"Then fucking leave, come back when you can respect my house. Maybe not dressed like that."

You look down at your outfit. You are wearing a tennis skirt with a tank top, the day was hot, you weren't going to wear pants and a long sleeve.

"What about my clothes?"

"Nothing, please go."

"No, what about my clothes? Do you have a problem with the way I dress?"

"I do. Go, come back well dressed."

You laugh, making him turn to you. Angry expression on his face. "You're not going to tell me how to dress. Or who to be friends with, you're my boyfriend Pedro, not my father."

"Yes, your boyfriend, and you should respect me more."

"I have never disrespected you." You yell. "You just fucking did.! You have been doing so often. it's like a habit now. And I'm not going to let you do that to me."

"I'm having a bad fucking day, don't make it even worse."

Sira's words were echoing in your head. <You should break up with him. He's becoming controlling. And that's not cute.>

"Sira was right, I should have broken up with you the day you hit my friend." You say, angry at him. "I'm done."

"What?" His expression changed, even his tone of voice.

"You punched Kyle over nothing. You had a fight with Pablo for God's sake. This is not healthy anymore." You began.

You tried your best to heal what needed to heal in the relationship, but bandaids don't fix bullet holes, specifically if the one that's shooting keeps doing it.

"I can't do this." You wanted to cry but wont. "I excuse you with my friends, I humiliate myself for you, trying to save your image of a good boyfriend. And you just can't seem to change. I'm done for good."

"Don't do this." He tries to get closer, but you push him. "Amor."

"Why are you blaming me? You've been so controlling with my friends, with me. And now clothes are a problem? No, I'm done."

You exit the room. Leaving him speechless. He didn't notice how his actions were breaking the relationship.

"Y/n, wait." He runs downstairs.

You got in the car, asking Pablo to drive.

When Pedro made it to his front door, the car was already moving. He couldn't stop it. You were gone.

🪷🪷🪷

🏷: @gadriezmannsgirl 😋💛

#football #football fanfic #football angst #football x you #football drabble #pedri #pedri x reader #pedri gonzalez #football smut #pedri imagine #pedri angst #pedri fics #pedri fanfic #pedri fluff #pedri x y/n #pedri x you #pedri x gavi #football fluff #football fiction #gavi imagine #gavi angst #fc barca #barca #pedri drabble #pedri smut #pedri gonzalez imagine #pedri headcanon #football imagine

[taylorswiftbutsimp]

ੈ✩‧₊˚ My Woman

➡ Summary: Your partner sae is displeased that you caught the attention of a Japanese U-20 ace

➡ Genre: Fluff, Crack-humor, Slight angst

➡ Format: OneShot

➡Character: Sae Itoshi ft Shuto Sendo

➡ Warning: ooc, grammar error, a lot of timeslips and flashbacks, sendo slander (ilovehimplsdonthate)

➡wordcount: 1,613k

You watch the scene in front of you go into chaos with someone starting a fight while the others stay back in shock, asking their captain if he needed help with a guy who he put down.

Shidou Ryusei—you know him. He was the person that your boyfriend, for more than a year, chose to play against to defeat Blue Lock. At first, you two went back to Japan to renew your passports.

given that you've been given a scholarship and a fantastic workspace, it would be ideal for you to pursue your studies in Spain. Sae was young when you first met him. Due to his unfamiliarity with the area, he hardly spoke any Spanish, but you could hear him speak the basics.

Your meeting was unintentional; it just so happened that you two ran into each other on the same floor of the building as you passed your cousin's soccer teammate's interview room in the hallway. Since it has been a while since you last saw each other, he contacted you to meet him there so you could spend some time together and catch up.

You scan the room, standing at the entryway. Everyone was too busy to notice you as they threw insults at your boyfriend, who called them ''stupid lukewarm that's lucky to play beside him." A certain male also caught your eye; he was slammed into the table hard by Blue Lock Shidou.

You assumed he was Sendo Shuto, and the one who stopped Shidou from going crazy was Oliver Aiku, the captain. You remember them because you scanned their files while applying for a temporary manager for them, which Sae was against.

He didn't see the point of why you wanted to apply as manager when you could just relax for a moment, but of course, you were stubborn and reasoned out, ''Why not? Besides, we both know you like it''

''yeah I do but I don't like how every male there can talk to you and be close to you''

''saeee~' don't be a killjoy~''

''Fine, But no funny business between us, we keep professional'' he said, rolling his eyes a little because he knew he too wanted you by his side. He then turned to face you.

''Yeah, we both know that~'' you tease as you bite into your tiramisu. Sae loves everything about you, but he was a little upset that you two were still hiding in plain sight. He wanted to announce his taken for good to the world, but you denied it because you don't have the courage to go public—at least not yet.

''woah I thought I was gonna see a book signing club'' you exclaimed, having finally had enough of the racket in the room. As you stood there, everyone was staring at you, and the room was beginning to go quiet.

you swore you locked eyes with sae but quickly shrugged it off as the coach approached you ''ah ms L/n I am so sorry for this how long have you been here?'' the coach asked giving you a gesture to enter

You tilted your head ''long enough to see the action trailer here actually'' You spoke with a hint of sarcasm in your voice. The man beside you cleared his throat and introduced you as U-20's temporary manager.

Everyone is still at their place, like how you interrupted their fight, except for the rose-red male that got slammed at the table, of course fixing himself and looking at you.

the room is quite different from earlier ''what!? never seen a girl before'' you said raising your brow and replying with a sass

''are you single?'' a blonde asked you assumed he was Teppei Neru

Your fake laugh was followed by the phrase "I like this, next question please" as you made a poker face.

What you didn't know was that the red-haired man who had been pressed into the table before had been staring at you with his mouth wide open.

sae peered at the man who was only a few inches away and scowled.

''Have you seen the way he looks at you?'' Sae let out a sigh as he put his clothes in the laundry basket while you prepared a meal for the both of you. ''No, not really; I was busy answering the team's questions'' you said as you sliced the carrot in front of you.

'' I don't trust any of them were going back to Spain after all this'' he bluntly stated ''Well that was supposed to be the plan but somebody wanted to bully his little brother-''

''oh shut up'' sae said his voice echoing from the laundry room you let out a chuckle you he definitely was pissed from today at everyone ''okay cold prince''

''so you're copying him now? what's next him taking you away from me?'' sae said closing the laundry room door and making his way towards you in the kitchen

''Don't be sassy boss im all yours'' you teased continued slicing you felt a warm pair of hands hugging your waist ''Good, tell me if he annoys you I will be the one who will slam his face at a table'' sae let out as he buried his head at the nape of your neck

''Now that's just mean''

''he deserves it''

It's been weeks since you started as the team's temporary manager; everything was going smoothly, and they were preparing for the arriving match.

Although Oliver did invite you over for some meal time together with the team, covering up excuses that they'd pay for it and you just had to join them, of course, you turned them down politely, telling the team you were busy due to the overcrowding schedule you have.

While the team was practicing on the field, you noticed Sendo sweating and gasping for air. You went over to him and said, "Hey, here," handing him a towel as he stiffened and muttered, "Thanks."

It has been like this for a few days; you see him become quiet whenever you enter the room, and he freezes like a statue whenever you ask him something.

''Is there anything troubling you?'' ''No, not really'' he murmured as he stood up and joined the others. You saw him join the others and briefly glanced over at your boyfriend, who was sipping water. You smiled a little and then continued with your tasks.

When everyone had eventually done training, you were putting the soccer ball away as the rest of the team had showers and some rested in the locker room. As you were walking down the corridor, you spotted Sendo and Oliver leaning against the wall outside the locker room.

Ironically, they were likely waiting for someone, and that someone is you

Oliver Snikered you frowned a little, ''There she is our favorite manager'' There was a duffle bag on the side, and you assumed that he was surely up to no good.

He elbowed Sendo and gave him a look indicating, Something you don't seem to understand  before saying, "Oh come on now, I won't do anything besides my friend here has something to say."

You exhaled, stifling your drowsiness and avoiding unintentionally snapping at the two of them, "What is it?" you questioned, waiting for a response.

"Well l/n I was…wondering after this blue lock happening I would like to keep in touch with you and take you on a date," Sendo said as he stepped closer to you and his cheek turned red. If you ask him, he was feeling a little nervous.

'' i hope she says yes im really interested on her!!'' he thought while his mind echoing "your gonna mess this up''

You stood there, eye-widening, trying to process everything he said, your jaw-dropping, finally getting why he was always stiff as a statue, and went quiet. Sae was right; he was eyeing you every time he got the chance. Before you could answer, you heard a familiar voice you know all too well.

''how lukewarm'' You turned your gaze away from the man in front of you and towards the one who interrupted the conversation, assuming that he heard it and was displeased. "Sae" you softly called out.

oliver who read the room immediately laughed clearly enjoying what his witnessing ''out of all the females you could ask out you choose my woman'' Sae scowled, pushing aside Sendo and grabbing your wrist, dragging you away, leaving everyone speechless

Bonus: unedited

''I DIDNT KNOW SHE WAS WITH THAT EYELASH PRODIGY!!'' sendo whined at Oliver apparently he was in the locker room with an ice pack at his cheek

yesterday when he confessed his interest on you he didn't expect you to get drag away and he cleary did not expect you were with the prodigy you two kept it casual how would he know

his now winching in pain while sitting in the locker room with an ice pack on his cheek he was apparently hit by a soccer ball in the face by sae which sae reasoned out ''what an accident'' then walked away like nothing happened

''better luck next time buddy'' oliver said patting sendos back giving him reassurance

''what you did today sae was mean he clearly got it I'm taken'' you said as you sat beside sae at the coach ''he needed to learn i couldn't let it go what he said to you yesterday''

''beside it was lukewarm how he tried to ask you out not even making an effort'' sae said looking at you patting his lap giving you a gesture to sit on his lap

©taylorswiftbutsimp

#ᗯiᒪᒪoᗯ #bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #sae itoshi x reader #sendo shuto #sae itoshi x you #i enjoyed making this lmao #oliver aiku x reader

[walpu]

I found a really interesting premise that I think you would execute perfectly. The IPC has established a "mental and emotional health department" basically therapists to help with the stressed out or traumatised IPC worker and it's a mandatory thing to have one visit with them. The reader works in this department and when Topaz, Aventurine and Ratio (separately) went in, all probably thinking it's pointless. Reader proceed to read them like a book to the mineut details of their issues. How would they react? Would they come back for another visit?

thank you so much for your trust, it was actually very interesting to write 🥹

being their therapist

characters - Dr. Ratio, Aventurine, Topaz

notes - gn!reader, no romantic undertones, mostly character study

Dr. Ratio

I feel like he would be a bit taken aback at first.

He didn't expect you to go further than a few generic questions about how the latest missions have affected him and suddenly you're asking about his feelings regarding the IPC recurring him.

"Weren't you disappointed? Didn't you feel like your cooperation with the IPC symbolizes you drifting further away from joining The Genius Society? How do you view The Genius Society in general?"

It's a bit too personal for his liking but he has to admit that you are truly an expert in your field.

I can see him rather harshly asking why are you stepping out of the line with your questions since it's hardly concerns the topic of the therapy session. Not because he's too troubled by you seeing through him but simply because of the professional ethics.

When you elaborate that it's the IPC's request to make a full psychological portrait of their workers he just sighs.

His answers are short, he doesn't elaborate much. Sometimes he simply says that the topic you mentioned doesn't affect his mental state in a way that can prevent him from doing his job and leaves it at that.

He doesn't trust the IPC much since he knows better than giving a powerful organization information about his weaknesses. He does feel a certain level of respect towards you and your professionalism though.

Doesn't feel targeted or overly vulnerable even if it leaves a bitter taste in his mouth to hear his insecurities being acknowledged.

Wouldn't show up again. Mostly because of his distrust to the IPC tho.

Aventurine

Oof.

Both of you will need a drink after that.

There's just so much to unpack really.

If you try to ask him about how he feels almost dying at each mission, he downplays it.

If you ask about his childhood trauma, he shrugs it off.

I don't know how many people saw his interview for anan but everytime he's asked about something personal he brings up how he's actually lucky and hiw he should be grateful. So you get tve spirit.

Doesn't matter what your question is, his answer is the same. He survived, he was loved by his family, all his suffering led him to this, so of course he's grateful what are you taking about ha ha!

Look at his voicelines too, praising the IPC and all that. He gives you this generic answers and hopes you'll buy it.

Well you don't but you also can't force him to answer more honestly.

He himself would be deeply troubled by you reading him like that. He feels weak, defenseless. Like all he has done to protect his inner self was for nothing since you can see through him like that.

0/10 experience he won't show up ever again. Nothing personal against you, he just can't do it. Plus he doesn't trust the ipc either so.

Topaz

Honestly the most normal one.

She will at least try to be honest since she trusts the IPC (maybe a bit too much, which is also a coping mechanism and not the healthiest one, but you can't really call her out on this since you're working for the ipc and, let's be honest, they would not respect their workers' privacy, they WOULD force you to give them their personal information if needed and you don't want to make it worse for Topaz)

She may be a bit taken aback at first but it honestly feels good to talk about her struggles and inner conflicts. And I'm sure she has a lot of those since she's actually trying to do good things, still believing that the IPC can bring positive changes.

Will probably share her experience in Belobog with you.

Will use your meetings as an opportunity to sort out her feelings about her missions.

Has a lot of respect for you personally and actually tries to do some soul-searching to make your meetings more productive.

The only one out if the three of them who would come back

#hsr #aventurine #honkai star rail #topaz #dr ratio #hsr topaz #hsr aventurine #reader insert #walp's writing

[dnp-pet-rectangle]

WAD reflection from the perspective of a theatre director

Inspired by @/calvinahobbes who did an amazing job breaking down the show’s metaphors & using her English degree in this post, I wanted to share my perspective on it (even a month later) & get use out of my theatre degree lol. Also, warning, this will be very much a long, long essay with run-ons. I have ADHD & I love when my frequent hyperfixations intersect 🤪 There are major spoilers.

My Background:

I am a semi-professional theatre director, but more broadly, a theatremaker. I have a theatre degree from New York University’s Tisch School on the Arts (NYU Tisch), where I did a conservatory program with one of their studios which focused basically on those who wanted to do a little bit of everything and create new works & was the only studio training directors & playwrights. I originally went into the program as a performer. I did not mean to end up concentrating on being mainly a producer & a director, but that’s a whole other story. I also through that program had to take theatre/performance studies courses, which I loved for the most part & is an interesting interdisciplinary field. But I will try to define terms just in case since anybody reading this may not know any or all the specific terminology I might use. In short, I have a fancy degree that apparently should cost $300k 🤡 & I’m gonna actually use it with doing this lol

--

Setting the Tone:

While Dan might call this a comedy special or comedy show, and thereby comparing it to other comedians, I actually think he is doing himself and We’re All Doomed (WAD) a disservice. I saw folks compare him a lot to Bo Burnham in the chat (who was actually was accepted and almost went to NYU Tisch for a different studio that focused on solely experimental work), which makes sense considering the theatrical nature of both of them. However, Dan actually goes further into the realm of theatre because of how he utilizes his crowd work (I’ll go into that later). I recognize traditional comedy specials/standup as having jokes or stories, when doing you know like late night talk show interviews, that can be made outside of the context of the show & slip into a conversation. Or with Burnham’s Inside Out, the songs & other parts can be done or understood mainly out of context, as seen through Bo uploading them to his YouTube channel. Comedy specials have the sections of their comedy stand-up thread together, but what Dan has done is weave his sections together. The length along with the intermission/interval being a part of WAD, adds to my point that he is not treating this as different material he tested out at different comedy clubs, but as something cohesive storytelling pieces. I think in terms of testing, Phil was the main sufferer audience member of the initial materials being created.

Anyway, you cannot as easily remove it from the context at certain points, because the transitions & the order of these different sections are treated as equally important, rather than a means to move on to the next section, with some possible space for improv.

Basically, I’m bi. Sorry, my brain started thinking about BIG when I started writing “basically” at the start of that sentence. Actually, what I am trying to say is that I would classify We’re All Doomed as a one-man performance piece/show, so I will be treating it as such in my review/reflection/breakdown. The comedy of it is important and there, but I don’t think it captures what WAD entirely is.

Also, unfortunately due to where I was at mentally at the time & the location it was being performed at, I never saw this live. To be honest, how it got framed marketing-wise did not help me feel connected with the actual purpose of the show, with hope being a key element. So while this was filmed, I am as much as possible trying to remove the cinematography as an element of my analysis. However, some things might be clearer on film, as with theatrical directing, you cannot add a zoom or crop & instead are trying to ensure moments are clear to an audience by what they see and hear through drawing their attention to it. With theatre being mainly about the live output by performers and intake by the audience, at the end of the day, what my job as a director is is to direct not only how the performers share the story, but also direct the audience on what is important to catch for understanding.

--

Breakdown of Thoughts

Originally, I wanted to rewatch the show again, and started to, but considering I ended up writing about a whole page worth of things for each minute of the show & I was sleepy by the time I was like 5-10 minutes in, I decided to be nice to myself & stay up all night in my comfortable bed instead of staying up all night at my desk trying to take in-depth notes 🙃

I’m gonna breakdown this analysis/reflection into further sections, just to give myself some anchors & break up the blocks of text. Also as a way to just be that pretentious, maybe with an academic flair, as is fitting to be for something about Dan Howell (said affectionately 💕)

The Script/Writing

When considering the text of the show itself, two things came to mind for me:

(1) This is definitely what I would call intertext. Intertext is a piece of writing that relates to another or more other writings through allusions. WAD is an intertext which alludes mainly to other works of Dan’s on his YouTube channel. The ability to get the true impact of the show relies on you knowing Dan (as his internet persona) on some level. And as a theatre maker & longtime fan, I love that it is, it’s what the piece needed to be. As a theatre producer, the hiatus from engaging with his audience and the limited runway given to reactivate interest in him and his creative work I think made it difficult to get that audience in some venues, along with some other funkiness (mainly with promo) I am less knowledgeable on. But I think Dan has already learned/continues to learn from that, which I think may have been valuable for him. (sidenote: I need the tea on all that because I love knowing how presenting venues work with performers, as well as the lack of understanding they have of internet culture as it relates to venue leadership.)

(2) This was a work he made for himself. He mentions this both in the show & in reference to WAD multiple times. But I think what truly came to mind for me was that it is still powerful for him to write for himself. He is writing for what he needs to be hearing or wants to be processing creatively.

I think why it is powerful is that Dan has discussed before how much stress he put on himself regarding danisnotonfire, and later Daniel Howell, videos, focusing on the audience, and how he was presenting a specific style/quality of video to them. Add in the layer of being closeted & actively fighting internalized homophobia, and the anxiety he built up makes sense. And I might personally attribute that more to his need to pass as straight & catering I believe at one point to an audience of cishet men, whether actual or perceived by him. Not all videos, especially the most impactful ones in my opinion, rely on this, but it was a key piece of what he made during his rise in popularity on the platform. This catering slowly decreased with the amount of uploads he was doing, along with a more tangible understanding of his audience thanks to the tours he did with Phil. Basically I’m Gay I think was the true shift where he gave himself permission to write work that had a main audience of himself. That’s where his best work has come from, and I think since then, he’s been able to have the space to process things creatively through his writing.

--

The Relationship Between Performer & Audience

When I was in theatre school, my directing teacher would constantly talk about not just considering the relationship of the performers on “stage” (I did a lot of more immersive work & we only had black box theatres, which is literally a room that is floor to ceiling black) but also the relationship of the performers & the story with the audience. By Dan knowing mainly who his audience would be, the show can now play with that understanding in mind.

This leads to my point that, overall, Dan does not use the fourth wall, and I think that is what makes We’re All Doomed work. It may also be why he called it a comedy show, idk.

For those who don’t know what the fourth wall is, it is a term from theatre originally that is about the way in which a traditional theatre stage (called a proscenium) has three physical walls around it, while there is no 4th physical wall, so the audience can see the performance. If does exist physically, it is only the curtain that acts as the 4th “wall”. So, in order to keep it as a separation between the performers and the audience, the actors treat the side where the audience is as a fourth wall. When someone breaks the 4th wall, this is when they speak to audience directly, rather than to another character. Examples from English-speaking pop culture would be the asides from Hamlet or Ferris Bueller in Ferris Bueller’s Day Off. But when you are the only person on stage, the only way to have a fourth wall is when you don’t reference that you know there’s an audience there. Hence, a monologue where the character is talking to themselves or an entity that is not the audience directly (or assigned to be the audience by the director), it is the closest you can have a fourth wall when alone.

Dan in his videos and in his previous tours with Phil never were without direct engagement of the audience (obvious with the naming of Interactive Introverts). It was never not a variation on him speaking with the audience in any type of dialogue, even if done parasocially.

Some of that is not new to theatre, but I would say is that it has become more of a trend within new theatre starting in the early 2010s to have more interactivity and a more authentic, explicit message that no performance will be the exact same. I definitely saw that in the shows I saw both Off-Broadway (which sidenote, all that means is that there’s fewer seats in that theatre, not about quality of the work or how worth it is to engage with) and larger settings like Broadway and the West End. That’s what I love about theatre, and why my own work is more about immersion and direct audience engagement.

Now Dan’s creative works have never been skit only or interested in telling a story outside of the realm of connecting with an audience as a variation of himself, so again, him not using the fourth wall overall is appropriate and fits in with what I mentioned about intertext. The piece does however start with a fourth wall for the music number, which I will walk through fully sharing why I am saying that about the song & dance opening after establishing some other concepts to help build understanding.

--

Design Can Work With You or Against You

I just want to say out the gate that the design was done really well, and I immediately felt a need to emphasize it after watching the first 10 minutes again.

First, let’s talk about the orange & black aesthetic of the show. Dan may have simply said that the orange just looked cool, but I think I would attribute more meaning to that color. Orange brings to my mind at first instance both a bright happiness/warmth and a sense of caution and warning, like road signs (at least those in America). The themes of the show reflect these two ideas and plays with the tension between them. I don’t know if he or the team meant to have that be a conscious choice, but there’s a joke I’ve had with other directors of when they get complimented on something unexpected, they just nod and say “yes, that was a choice”, even though it was just a random thing that happened or was something that you just thought would be cool to do. Orange runs through the show’s designs and it becomes clear that it is a tool for contrast and emphasis for the points Dan & the director want to make.

Now with the design team of costumes, lights, sound, and media, I can see a clear cohesion. Good theatrical design has the designs act as a character or highlighter in the story. Bad theatrical design can take away/distract from the core intensions of the show. It was so clear to me that the design was a character. And seeing that there were two media designers make complete sense considering the labor lift of both creating the projections displayed, but also creating/filming pieces of the media itself. The music/sound and lighting work well to articulate the manic feelings it means to instill in the audience and seeing it as a director, I assume part of the creative discussion was about parts of the media played they wanted to make sure were heard, and the lights help catch attentions in service of those pulled out moments. For costumes, I think Calvina did well in her post at articulating the elements of the costume and the progression it goes throughout the show. I’d rather not take up space to say the same thing truthfully.

With all the design elements, I think three characters could be defined (not including the audience), two as main characters, and one as a supporting character. I would name the main characters as “the Circle” (the looming set piece throughout hosting the projections used throughout) and “Dan On Stage/Dan performing” (the one in the physical space) with the “voiceover Dan/inner voice Dan” as a supporting character. The voiceover only exists in the beginning, and it is only shared with us to demonstrate the way in which the Dan On Stage singing is not really that aggressively optimistic and wholeheartedly believes the words he is singing. He is not the Dan we know from the Internet, so we can cathartically laugh at the attempt to pretend everything is fine. The voiceover only has one role, and it is to force Dan to confront this breakdown has an audience.

--

Staging an Opening Sequence: Our First Stage Character is the Circle

In directing classes, often what you focus on is called stage pictures, which is meant to help you consider what the actual imagery you want to ensure the audience absorbs for their understanding of the piece. The first and last stage moment of each act should tell a basic story of what happened, and therefore, are heavily emphasized as important for directors. The Circle (capitalized for reference purposes) being lit up before the show starts and then again in conjunction with the light flashes and sound establishes the importance of the Circle to the show. When the projection comes into play, showing the speech of a 15-year-old Greta Thunberg before beginning to add more, we are then introduced to the purpose of the Circle to be an output/portal for the overstimulation of messages, in this case, I would claim it being what comes from the Internet.

The music/sound and lighting work well to articulate the manic feelings it means to instill in the audience and seeing it as a director, I assume part of the creative discussion was about parts of the media played they wanted to make sure were heard, and the lights help catch attentions in service of those pulled out moments. The Circle also through some of the lighting moments, mimic that of a clock, which again adds to the doomsday, the "end is near" type energy. To have the end of the opening sequence build to an explosion which then shows solid orange at the end while Dan is in silhouette begins the introduction to the orange emphasis & proposes a sort of prophet-like version of him after the apocalyptic imagery disappears as he rises to be seen. What we have opened with is setting the tone to how we should view these two characters of the Circle & the Dan on Stage.

--

Song Time!

Dan is such a theatre kid & I love that for him. His dramatic side shows through the moment he used a rise to start his show at the top of the stairs, first in a place of seriousness with the sharp lighting and smoke to then bring in a very happy music number. The contrast & switching of expectations is a key of comedic works, and shows through most of the phandom who did not know WAD started with that, as it is indeed funnier if it comes as a shock. The movement & music mimic what folks attribute to as musical theatre, which is campy, happy singing. Knowing he was the one who suggested the song for TATINOF, I am loving Dan clearly wanting to have that opening number of a musical moment, even if it is dripping in irony. The Circle & the lights in this acts as a supporter to the message of it being sunshine and rainbows, with literal rainbow lights included. (Sidenote: I am 99% sure the pigeon coo is Phil, so if anything, I’m disappointed he was not credited as Pigeon sound effect AND remote crisis manager. Idk why I could tell, but both times now, it’s what I immediately thought when hearing that part)

I think of the musical number as the only place where he does have a fourth wall, because the number does not directly reference the audience at the start. It’s a one-man moment and it is about the performance not the audience engagement. It starts falling away when he starts pointing out the “and you”s, but the voiceover is the real break in our understanding of the world. It is emphasized by the color inversion of the sun & sky media of the Circle. The director is saying, this is important to how you now interpret what you’ve seen & will see, this is another shift from what was established of this world.

I should mention “world” is the terminology used to name what the environment the story is being told in with consideration, especially in theatre, of how much of a need there is for suspension of disbelief. I believe this term is also referenced a lot when discussing the fantasy and sci-fi genres, since those also requires some distancing from reality for the audience. This ties into a phrase I will probably end up using a lot of “rules of the space”. When establishing this world for the show you are presenting to an audience, there is a type of logic that must be established in order to understand what is the baseline for what the audience will be engaging with over the span of the show. But the voiceover immediately changes the rules of the space, because it messes with the Dan on stage, and messes with the messaging of the Circle. It adds a new context to the Dan On Stage, as while a fan will know that this song is not in alignment of our knowledge of Dan Howell, we get confirmation that this indeed ironic and outside of the branding that Dan has boxed himself into over his time on YouTube.

But the voiceover is also not in alignment with that “branding”. It expresses concerns related to the Dan On Stage’s mental wellbeing. There is no irony or subtext in that voice, it is the most direct in speaking to Dan On Stage, because it is being said by a variation of Dan in voiceover to himself. These could be seen as questions he knows to ask himself, but as someone who advocates for mental health & shares now about being openly gay, I interpret that he may feel he cannot express that outside of his mind for fear of undermining his advocacy points. The discussion of the “wonders” of the Internet also continue building in the tension that exists throughout WAD of how Dan feels about that space. The voiceover then proposes at first a type of equal extreme, which only sees the Doom, and as someone with clinical Depression myself, I think is only a furtherance of the breakdown, rather than the reality check it started off being. Not that what is listed is wrong by any means, but the barrage of it is meant to expand the drowning feeling, not act as call to action or consideration of the intricacies for engaging in the world. With the Circle’s sun imagery & the music having been inverted and shifted to something more sinister, Dan’s movement up the stairs fits a type of circular moment from the first entry of him, where the image of the prophetic figure is questioned on how he alone will solve the climate emergency. The slap & break of character for the Dan on Stage serves to confirm our understanding of the voiceover as the voice in Dan’s head & indeed there are not two Dans.

Also, the sparklers 🎇 showing up really make the key change for the song, but my producer brain is going, “girl, of course you lost money on this show, was that so VERY NECESSARY?” But the dramatic Gemini theatre bitch in me would 100% want this too. I just don’t have a capita£ester working to get sponsorship money in my life, so I have to be reasonable 😔 Also, the confetti with the high note is peak theatre gay so I again, love that for him. And of course, the confetti is orange.

--

Hints of Orange

When the song reaches its end & the Circle starts showing squares of orange, rather than a full background, this acts as a seed for the breakdown and waterfall of cubes, which Calvina speaks to the orange cube hint at the beginning in her post. The sudden cut-out with Dan simply lit replicates a moment the Circle is not present. The Internet is not present. To crawl to a microphone, the message is not “hey this guy needs two mics”, because we see one on his face, but that the wired mic (which I will now label as “The Microphone”) is a metaphor. It’s a crawl towards sharing out, not suppression. Only when the voiceover of himself points out the audience does he does a full fourth wall break. The suppression did not work, and neither he nor the audience can believe that it was the Truth.

The wire of the Microphone being orange showcases that it was meant to be seen. I don’t think it even in play in terms of the sound, like it might not even be on, considering the feedback nightmare it would likely cause. And no standard microphone used on stages has orange wires, because that would pull the audience’s eyes to it. But that’s the point here.

The rules of the space are now this: the Circle is not always active, the Microphone has significance, the Dan On Stage knows there is an audience. None of these were true before, even the Circle was on before the start. This draws the audience to know there has been a shift & to have the first words said into the Microphone be “We’re All Doomed” solidifies the song moment was a blip, that this is really where we start at. As an example, in the social media section, Dan does a deliberate wrapping of the wire on his hand at the same time the Circle scrolls to the social media icon. It is how the director & Dan are ensuring that we understand “what he is saying and what is been shown on the screen are in tandem”, so if you’re paying attention to that wire, it signals you should look up too.

Every other prop, except I believe the gavel and wig, is also orange. The bubble gun is mainly what comes to mind for me, since the cubes are not as activated as props necessarily. But if an item is to enter the stage, what I interpret it as is that it must be orange, there must be high contrast, nothing in the physical world on the stage can become blurred, only screens have that privilege(?) to have things blend together.

--

The Power Struggle Between Dan & the Circle

Once Dan has begun directly conversing with the audience, the rules of the space are:

(1) Dan On Stage acts, the design elements react (not including the Circle)

(2) The Circle and Dan have a symbiotic relationship, as neither have complete control over the other & react to what each other are doing

(3) The icons are our guides in understanding the sectioning done throughout the show

(4) Having “One Good Night” is the goal to reach at the end of the piece

As a person, as well as discussed throughout the show, we know that Dan has a contentious relationship with the Internet. It is what has given him his living but has also caused some of his worst moments mentally (2012? I don’t know her). It is the space in which lets him have an audience who have mainly showed him support, but also the space that has fed the cynicism that fuels his clinical depression. There lies in the way in which the Circle exists on the stage & looms over Dan in the background. It’s a necessary evil of what appears on the screen.

Why do I then say that the design elements are reacting? Well, if we remove the Circle from the equation, the lights, sounds effects, and props are all cued off of something Dan does like the clown honk. However, the Circle sometimes cues off what Dan does, but sometimes instigates what Dan speaks to. That especially is evident when video clips play that invoke what media Dan has been contending with on the Internet and the consequences of those things.

The Circle exists throughout both Act One & Act Two, but only becomes passive to the piece when Dan directly shows vulnerability & the removal of protective irony. Calvina spoke to this when discussing the costume choice of him opening the jumpsuit in Act Two to show the orange tank underneath.

--

Cubes as Articulators

Oh Creator did I have to dig deep into my brain for this term of articulators. So my directing instructor had some key terms that I think I don’t think are universally used, even by American theatre directors or at least in academic settings. She defined articulators to basically be elements that helped give almost like checkpoints for the progression of a throughline in a show. For WAD, that is easily those orange cubes.

When static is displayed on the Circle’s screen each time we transition to a new section, it is not the typical emulation of TV static, it is that sea of orange squares. It is an articulation of those fear, issues, concerns, all those pinpoints Dan speaks to why he says “We’re All Doomed”.

That’s why there is the culmination of the orange cubes falling on him, when he reaches the top of the stairs at the end of Act One. When he circles back to the same stage picture of him at the top, it can been considered a repetition of the prophetic imagery I pointed out from the opening sequence. What changes is that the orange squares enter the physical world, falling onto Dan. He can no longer say they live in his head. They are here and stay in the space until the end of the show. In Act One, they are the looming issues that signal the Apocalypse. In Act Two, they are the rubble that must be sorted through.

Calvina was the one who named it rubble and the cubes as representations of Dan’s problems. To have the audience actually able to take a cube home, she argued, would be symbolic of the audience helping carry that weight. While I’d love that, I mentioned in my tags on her post that I think mentally, that rubble would still be at his feet, even with taking home that visual metaphor. This is Dan we’re talking about, and with personal responsibility being a topic of the show, while it’s not his burden to bear alone, he does have to recognize it exists.

I think the repetition of the prophetic imagery comes to its climax when in the aftermath found in Act 2, voting who to fire into space can and does end up with him being sent by the audience. It represents an understanding of where he exists now from where he did at 18 in terms of social, political, and economic access and the possibilities of his influence. There is a responsibility there that ties to how he can move in the world now publicly, so why wouldn’t he have an existential crisis?

--

It is a Comedy Though, Right?

This is hundred percent comedy, and obvious dark humor at that. As a director, I love comedy, especially this type, because when an audience gets to laugh, the armor gets stripped away. They have no built-up resistance that let’s any uncomfortable point be heard effectively. It’s why the end’s vulnerability is effective, because we have already joked and laughed about our pains and our desire for escapism. Now we are able to move on into a place of reflection.

To underline why I say this is not stand-up comedy is that Dan has made it a stage show, just one that has comedy as a vehicle for telling this “story”. His interactions with his audience, through both quips based on audience reactions or “heckling” as well as explicitly asking for input into who to shot to space or what to add as a mad lib (generic brand for law purposes), are about being blended into the loose narrative constructed already, not actually to be reactionary like most crowd work I associate with stand-up comedy.

If anything, I could argue that it could be considered a comedy special that “Dan On Stage” is trying to make, but there is actually conflict being introduced that disrupts his set (both the comedy one and the physical one). There is clearly a showing of meta, as Dan makes sure to share thoughts on the creation of the show, the reactions from his overall show branding & imagery, the use of the lift because it was expensive to have. Dan’s comedy style can never be told without reference to behind the scenes, because if this is a creative means to process feelings, there are things about the show & its making that impact what needs to be processed too. It is also related to how his work is strengthened by acknowledging the two-way street of being in a parasocial relationship with his audience.

--

Can We Have One Good Night?

Another term central to what my directing teacher spoke of was the “Core”, usually a question, though not always, that motivated what was being explored over the course of a theatre piece. At the top, as Dan on Stage exaggerates that love doesn’t exist (which Dan refutes as being an actual belief of his during the afterparty) and other sardonic phrases, he also states he wants to give his audience one good night, because he recognizes the escapism his audience finds in his solo and joint content. We’re All Doomed’s Core is “can we just have one good night, even in the midst of the horrors we have outside of these theatre doors?”. But I would also say that in terms of where his writing was at the time of WAD’s inception and the naming of his mental health book as You Will Get Through This Night, it feels more like Dan himself has been grappling with a Core of “can I have one good night? Or a full 24 hours where I feel mainly happy when all I am bombarded with about the world is suffering?” I think night can be both literal, since we know he has had sleep issues, and metaphorical, as the night can represent this depressive episode he was writing himself out of.

When the mood tracker gets discussed in the last portion of WAD, to see a sea of neutral or uninterested emojis demonstrates when he took the time to do it, the answer that night was “no, not really” 😕. The main one mentioned is the ritual of “Fry Day” he has with Phil (sidenote: why are these British men not calling it “Chip Day”, since this ritual falls on a Saturday?), which is a rare smiley face. The question he likely has then is “can I ever have a good night again?”

So for him to then turn to his own videos during one of those nights, to a video where he states his famous “embrace the void and have the courage to exist,” that showcases what I mentioned of his best work being written for himself, in this case, a future version of himself.

--

Ending Sequence: Where Do We Land?

When the Circle does not display any media, it again shows the orange square motif, but after mentioning his own video, he turns to his audience for glimpses of what joy exists even in the face of Doom. The Circle changes into a display of different submitted clips showcasing this joy and hope that Dan was clearly looking for throughout this piece. He walks towards the top of the stairs to witness these clips. I cannot for my life at this point having now been separate from it for about a month, but I believe before the submitted media sequence, he states the famous line again of “Embrace the Void and Have the Courage to Exist”. With this last thing spoken, it gives that emphasis needed to take in the message emotionally and then witness what the Void (in this case the Circle) can offer.

--

A Good Director Should Go Unnoticed

When someone is not versed in theatrical directing, if the audience cannot tell what was a choice by the director or even consider the director themselves, this is weirdly a good sign. It means that it feels natural to what they are witnessing and to the messages that are meant to be communicated to the audience. As someone who also works in government, it feels very similar, as only bad work is evident to the general public. Obviously that is not true for everyone, but is an overall trait I think impacts both an understanding of public service and directing.

I am not familiar with any of the work of Ed Stambollouian, who through research, looks like he has done work with comedians like Joe Lycett (who I am also not familiar with) and directed TATINOF, but also more stripped down, exploratory theatre. Through a quick review of his portfolio, one, I am not shocked that Dan tapped him to assist with directing since there is a familiarity and two, his background tells me he knows how to direct for writer-performers, which is what comedians really are at the end of the day.

To direct for those who are doing one-person shows that they both wrote and performed, it is especially tricky to have the artist hand the reins over to the director. The director in this case acts as the artist’s eyes, because an artist cannot clone themselves. It is impossible for them to wear multiple hats at once, where they can give quality, objective feedback to themselves while also doing a full out performance. For Ed to be someone Dan has worked with before, there is already an established understanding of each other’s work styles, and a trust that otherwise would have to be built up before the work can truly begin to finalize the piece.

In short, Ed Stambollouian and the creative team on We’re All Doomed did an incredible job bringing what I understand Dan intended when he started writing this down in isolation. And @danielhowell you whole-heartedly deserve to call this your magnum opus. What can I say (sorry I can't help lovingly poking fun at you), your artistry shines throughout the show. I hope this too can be something your future self can turn back to.

🧡

(bonus) Thoughts on Orange Carpet & the Phil element

I didn’t fully rewatch the orange carpet, just to keep myself on task & not bring Phil too much into the main reflection without explicit reference in the show, but hearing Dan go “I’m alive in 3, 2…” made me laugh both times. He understands that we just want to know he has a pulse, ya know? Also them pretending it totally was live, when those fools (affectionate) cannot run a real live broadcast from their home for their lives. It just ran too smoothly, esp. in the transitions, for it to be anything but some very, very light editing on one improvised take they did. But I always support them in their acting, no matter how bad, like with DITL Australia’s opener or pretending there were not two apartments or that Google Feud being back was unplanned or Dil being pregnant with a statistically rare alien child or Phil living in a tiled, cramped bedroom or...

Also, Dan’s little laugh at the end of Phil’s sign-off is so fond it hurts. It also hurt that the VOD was hard to scrub through, so another deduction for the Kiswe platform.

Anyway, I’m glad that Dan was able to find space outside of the Dan & Phil branding of the 2010s as well as the image he was forced to manufacture for his YouTube presence, but also realize that with having a core audience that wants him to simply be happy, he can recognize that Phil is part of the things that make him happy. And can do so openly.

He is his own person, but it has been clearly emphasized now that Dan has no interest in not acknowledging that Phil always is and will be part of his present and future. He has made work like WAD & "Gay and Not Proud" to explore his way of thinking without the support of Phil present in the filmed/performed aspect. Dan acknowledges this intention, which is evident with him shooing away Phil at the beginning of “Gay and Not Proud” to process it alone.

It is also evident with the ending of “Daniel & Depression” and the WAD end credit of remote crisis manager showcasing the caretaking role Phil often plays in Dan’s life. But we know that caretaking is reciprocal, considering Phil's tactics with glue as well as his continuing health issues and anxieties. Dan has seen who he is without Phil by his side everyday in the public eye & has no interest in maintaining that Phil is absent for public projections.

I obviously do not know Dan Howell, or anything about him outside what exists on the internet. But in performance studies, there is a foundational understanding that there is no way to not be performing in some way during your day-to-day. Performing is not inherently a bad thing, as there are different roles you take on in your life, where how I engage at work is different from how I am hanging out with friends. This also has basis in gender studies, such as ideas that you can perform your gender "wrong". What has been so interesting to me in this phandom renaissance is the way Dan and Phil each perform as themselves in front of the camera now. What they share out and the layers they include--or choose to not remove--have been stated by them explicitly to be the most authentic they have ever been, without obviously removing their right to privacy. During the height of the glass closet that was their 2018 content, I remember thinking that it was going to be the most they would show us in the vain of "if you know, you know, and we know who will know". After the coming out videos of 2019, obviously that's not true, but the return of dapg has signaled a message of "we know you know, if you've been in the know" while veiled in a way that is not immediately perceivable by those who are casually engaging with their content. It is an authentic portrayal of themselves without filter, while also providing themselves space to not have to announce everything to the world. When you are in the know, it definitely targeted and causes psychic damage, but I am ready for anything and everything they throw our way.

#we’re all doomed #wad spoilers #daniel howell #danisnotonfire #dnp #dan and phil #dan howell #theatre analysis #performance studies #theatre director

[haechurch]

forgetting me, forgetting you

It's not the way that jeno doesn't look at you the same. It's not the way of him chasing after a girl and leaving you behind in the evening downpour. It's not the way jeno said he didn't even love you that night. It's just nothing but your broken heart.

pairing: idol!jeno x fem!reader

genre: smut, fluff (kinda), angstt

wc: 4.8+k

warnings: minors dni, unprotected sex, oral (m, f receive), spitting, kind of meanie jeno, implied exhibitionist, degrading, praising, spanking, teasing, fingering, tons of pet name, hard and soft sex, etc etc, you know when i said idol and fan relationship its just so unreal as well as how their jobs work lmao ((i had a problem to make this at least a lil bit realistic) also not seem too delusional but- just pls dont @ me, i mean its a fic)

! how embarrassing that this shit got posted accidentally (i hate tmblr) my pupils were literally shaking lol. for those who might accidentally saw this (i know theres not even a soul who cares abt it..) ofc i had this to be revised also its inspired by rv song, in my dreams, (originally the title for this one but i changed it!) i might also have songs recommendation, its [coldplay-yellow > conan gray-astronomy > yoari-dice game > exo-hurt > davichi-forgetting you > red velvet-in my dreams]

Everything was pandemonium from the start. You saw jeno in person for the first time in the concert venue. Yes. He is the singer. That singer. A born-talented, handsome, lovable idol from nct. He didn't even know you were there, in the crowd of audience hyping his band up. Never in your dreams you thought you'd met him in person, but fate brings you two together. It was what you believed until then. Fate brings your jeno who has never been yours in the first place to kindly remind you that he will never be yours even at the end of the time.

You worked hard for your pay. You work as an employee (that mostly work for dreamies) under jeno's company after you earned your post graduate title while studying in korea. That point when you made it out, you never even thought that this was a real chance to finally get him.

That's just insane, to get lee jeno, in a somehow, romantic way. But you tried anyway. Ordinary person with an extraordinary person? Or can you just say idols and fans relationship? That jeno from all the people living on this earth? Mostly impossible. Those who live around you will think you're crazy for wanting someone who literally exists in a different world from you. Even though you're 'coexisting' with him and seeing him from time to time, that would not be enough; so near yet so far.

It's so hard to work under the company and let it flow at first. Without a will, you'll never get what you want. Even though this one is nearly impossible, you attempt to keep the mindset that revolves around you: it will work if you try, try, try and try.

But it's useless. Who do you think you are? You can't even be allowed to speak nor get close to him except if it's necessary. It's hard to work with him like a normal acquaintance. To them, to jeno, you're simply invisible. 

However, you did make it clear enough. No surrendering. That's the least you can keep in mind. 

But again, he didn't even spare you a glimpse.

Then there was this day when you two were put together in the same dressing room, waiting for some interviews coming up. There's actually no reason for you to not share the same room because technically, you're their regular staff. The rest of the members and other staff were nowhere to be found, it was you and him. You and jeno all alone in the same room. You nearly choked yourself when you were about to open your mouth as jeno scooted to where you sat. 

"Hi." He lightly started the conversation. You swear to god you can hear your own heartbeat. Keeping yourself calm and professional, you hum and put the sweetest smile to him. "Hello."

"I'm so sorry if i sound rude, but i believe we're around the same age? I've been seen you around and i just knew you're a regular staff in here," you intensely stared at him, eyes widened in disbelief that he just casually- 

"We can be friends if you wan-" 

"We can?!"

-asked you to be his friend.

Realizing you just replied to him in 0,023 seconds, you covered your mouth and muttered 'sorry' to him. He just laughed. Oh. That laugh.

That's when you feel like you two were 'getting closer' as he asked you to be his friend for some idiotic reason (u really have no idea why the universe would gave you this kind of, miracle, you'd say, but you're fucking grateful).

Of course you can be friends with everyone. Also a staff (fan) and an artist couldn't be an exception, right? But once again who are you kidding, lee jeno is super busy, and you should know it could probably the friendship that only lasts for four hours.

You didn't meet jeno for weeks and you missed him so bad. Sometimes you got to talk to him after he befriend you (tho it happens only if you had that rare chance) but both of you didn't get a long time to properly talk and have a good conversation. And it's been a long time, you just missed him.

Did he perhaps miss you too? Did he ever think about you even just for a split second? You shake your head from the thoughts and scoff at yourself. He probably already erased you from his memory. And that night, you drifted into a deep slumber whilst thinking about how he wouldn't remember you.

―

But you were dead wrong. That day was very hot because apparently, it's in the middle of summer, and you were called for a job in a broadcasting house which happened to be the same place for the band to attend their schedule.

You're standing in front of a vending machine, getting a drink when you hear someone call your name. You turned around and found jeno, looking at you with his smiling eyes.

"Jeno!? What are you doing here?" You can't hide your pearly whites when you see him, so please meet him again after a while.

"We're having some jobs here. How about you?" He asked. 

"Um, me too! But mine's still running, i take a little coffee break right before come back to the site. Have you finished yours?"

"Yes, actually," jeno scratched his nape awkwardly before he continued. "Uhh, do you perhaps want to meet me after you are done? Just for a sec?" He asked.

"Sure! I'll text you when i'm done?" 

Yes, you both are having each other's numbers but can't even communicate a single thing through it. He didn't text you. And you, being the one who shamelessly asked for his numbers which he gladly gave it, never once texts him because as you can see, you're being professional enough to keep your words that it's only for the matter of work.

"Cool." You both smiled to each other and stood awkwardly for a good seconds until jeno left. 

So, did he just wait for you until you're done because he said he just finished his schedule? Is that even possible for him to do that?

The answer is yes. Though with a little bit of delay. He asked you to meet him after you're done, just to have you wait for him in the nearby cafe for nearly 20 minutes.

Jeno: uhh hi its jeno

Jeno: im so sorry for keeping you waiting

You: oh hii

You: nah its okayy not a biggie

Jeno: its the manager hyung, i told him i have to go somewhere but you know its hard to cooperate with them :/

Jeno: look i promise it will just need to b arranged real fast okay

You: okaaay i know youre busy you can really take your time tho

Jeno: so sorry ;(((

You: jeno its fine :*

You: :(

Jeno: thanjk you for the understanding ;)

Jeno: ill be there in.. 5 mins?

You: ill be here waiting!

You were smiling like crazy reading his texts. All you did was blushing and heart skipping while replying to him. He was so cute. And it's the first time you guys exchange texts. And he did it first! (how its a big deal for you)

Then there he is. Entering the cafe with a little skip and making a bee line to your table then sit down in front of you. 

"Right on time." He said jokingly. You just chuckled at him.

"Sooo what's up? What is it that you wanted to talk about in your very packed schedule, busy bee?"

He exhaled harshly before replying. "Nothing. Just wanna get out and have some fresh air."

He averted his gaze to yours before continue, "with my new friend." 

You raised one of your eyebrows at the boy. "Yeah? I thought you already forgot me because i was just simply a girl that worked at your company," you talk as you fold your hands.

"Why would i? I'll remember you anyway. You once fell in front of me when you were about to open some door and that actually was funny as hell. Shouldn't laugh but i can't help it. Oops. Should have not told you this part too..."

Your face heated in a second, and yes, you did that and it was humiliating and you felt very stupid. That time you were about to enter the conference room at the company building, but jeno (also the other members were there) was opening the door at the same time, unfortunately you stumbled on your feet and ended up kneeling at his.

He take a glance at you again then continue. "And you're pretty pretty."

You immediately looked up to him. You can't explain how his sudden confession affect you so much and leave your heart throbbing like crazy. 

Fortunately you can keep your act.

You chuckled and replied, "and what's that supposed to mean."

"I'm just saying that you're beautiful." 

He surely knows how to mess with your heart.

"And i'm getting worried that your eyes might have a problem," you laughed, more to laughing at yourself.

"No. I meant it."

You looked at him again, flustered, and he smiled when he saw you taken aback. A mischievous smile to be exact.

"Are you flirting with me?" Of course you were kidding. Asking that kind of question sounds nonchalant, even have no shame. But you had nothing to lose anyway.

"Would you accept it?" 

You blinked rapidly, your heart beating so fast in your chest, your palms were sweaty. He got you questioning yourself on how you can not fall for him even more? It's getting even deeper every minute you spend your time with him. He's dangerous. 

You were stunned for a moment. You felt like your cheeks burned, they're emitting flame. Your head short circuited for a while yet all you can think about is jeno. Jeno jeno jeno and jeno. The moment you can't hold it back from spilling, you just let it burst.

"I like you." 

Oh, you don't even care anymore about your image. The moment you spit that you felt like the most stupid, dense person alive on earth.

"I know." 

He responded in a heartbeat, and you felt fire burn a hole into you.

"You what?"

"I said i know. I noticed. And i do to."

"I'm so lost." You started to believe that you're out of your mind.

"I'm saying that i like you too."

Your pupils doesn't even falter when you stare at his face. You might just scream or gasp or even cry, but you were too stunned to speak, the way you were so calm also surprised yourself. You shake your head as you doubt your hearing and gave him a bitter smile.

"You're joking."

"Yes." 

Your eyes widen from his answer. He's such a prankster. 

"Jeno!"

He laughed. His laugh is so carefree but feels shy at the same time, that is just screaming lee jeno so much.

"So what am i supposed to say? You already heard me."

"I'm just trying to seek clarity." You narrow your eyes playfully. Now you don't even know where the confidence in you came from.

"You're my clarity." 

Now that sounds straight up came from a song lyric.

This whole time you think that you're crazy for wanting lee jeno, but here you are having a little cafe date and knowing him to have the same feeling as you are.

-

"Ah!" you squeal as your head thud against the hard surface.

"Sorry," jeno apologized as he giggled, then continue to peppering kisses down your neck.

Both of you were alone in a room at the backstage, making out like crazy before he bring you to the nearest table and pin you down. You sigh blissfully, thanking heaven every time your bodies this close, that you finally have jeno for your own and not anybody else. It's not the first time that he finally touched you, but every single one of his touches feels like the first time.

Oh, of course that didn't just happen in a night. He's been so sweet and kind to you that you mistaken his deed as something more than platonic relationship.

He bought you food. He told the manager to drop you off at your apartment at night when the schedule's over. You both go to the staff's cafeteria and eat lunch together. You offer him to go cycling together when he's off, and he did. He lent you his airpods when you lost one. You brewed his morning coffee. He called you one night and said that he's missing you. You asked him if you can do the same, texting or calling him as a normal friend would do despite both of your jobs. And that one night where he sneaked out to your apartment just to say that he wanted you.

That moment you thought everything is indeed possible. 

"Jen! Wait!"

He's currently railing you stupid at the backstage.

Now both of your hands were on the wall, legs spread open for him to easily pound you from the back. 

"Shit, this pussy's so tight." He slowed down, dragging his cock precise and keen, watching how his length appeared then disappeared inside your pussy.

"You like that baby?"

Your ears are buzzing, eyes fluttering, you only mewl and all you can hear is squelching sounds from how wet your pussy is before he sped up, skins clapping resonated all over the room.

When you didn't answered, he stopped and brings your hair to a ponytail then yanked your head up so your back is now against him as he whispered, "i said, am i fucking you good, little slut?" Well he can be cruel sometimes, but both of you know his mouth isn't that dirty on daily basis. He's just having his moment.

"Fuck yes," you finally speak.

Jeno railed into you again, he prop you to stand up, right hand on your hip, clamping so hard it'll leave bruises, and left hand grasping at your jaw to make you face him, his lips ghosting between your ear and lips, heavy breathing and all.

When he brushed against your earlobe, he whispered right onto your ear, "open your fucking mouth."

You obliged, as he bent your neck back and you presented all of yourself in front of him, he spit into your mouth. "Perfect. Keep it there like a good girl you are." 

Jeno started to pick up pace again, this time hitting your spot deliciously over and over, sending you to the cloud nine.

You agape as you moan, all while your mouth full of your and his spit, nonetheless making an effort to keep jeno's words but you're already drooling all over your chin.

"J-jen.."

"Shh, no need to say a thing baby girl, keep your pretty mouth shut."

Jeno suddenly lift you up and prop your back against the table. He's hovering over you, tapping your cheek, oblige you to open your mouth again, and spit another glob into yours.

"Now keep that warm and safe, you could do that, right angel?"

He asked and you only nodded in response. "That's it. Now let me make you feel good."

He spread your dangling legs by pushing on your thighs then dragging his hard and big cock along your slit, making a quite lubrication.

You're a whiny mess, never in your life you thought you'd have sex with lee jeno in a random room on their backstage, and he's pretty wild at the moment.

Before you can process a thing, he's already on his knee, eating you out slowly. You tug at his hair and hoist your hip up, but he's keeping you in place. He's taking his time, kitten licking at your opening with a slow pace, sucking softly at the clit, but it already making you tremble and wanting more. He's keeping the act for a while before the frustrations hit you.

"Jeno, hurry the fuck up."

He stop doing his ministrations, and as he pissed off, he suddenly lift you up again, your front pushed to the nearest wall.

"What did i just say to you? Shut your fucking mouth. Don't fucking speak. Why did you speak?"

He landed a couple of hard slap against your ass, making you yelp and shriek, "i-m sorry, please," your head drooped, your body trembling, but not from fear.

It's excitement.

Another slap on your ass. "Please what? Tell me, angel, what is it?

He kneaded your flesh and put his length between your ass cheek, nuzzling it sensually, and it made you bite your lip hard, can't take his teasing no more.

"Please," you almost sob. "Please, jeno, fuck me."

You beg, and he immediately bend you fully over again, both of his hands were on your hips as he fuck you into oblivion.

"Princess wanna get fucked. What she wants, she gets." 

He kissed his teeth before he rammed into you, hitting that sweet spot precisely over and over again it felt so good. Your hands and legs almost gave up, but he grabbed your hip in place. As you moan and scream for him, he keep chanting that he want you to come for him.

"Jeno, i'm fucking close- fuck," your hair is tangled, you're a drooling mess, your eyes rolled up. He fuck you so good it leave you dumb. Jeno's hips never once falter, he keep fucking into you rapidly as you whine non stop.

"Fuck, come all over me. Come on," he encouraged you.

"Coming!" You're a moaning mess, pussy can't help but tightened around him, making him curse under his breath. He continue to pistoning as he chasing his high, prolonged your own orgasm.

"Fuck, gonna cum," his thrust remain steady until it finally stopped, buried so deep inside you as he fill you up to the brim. Jeno finally pulled out, your hands and elbow propped against the wall as you arched your back while bending over, giving him a full sight of your ass and pussy overflowing with his cum. 

"Shit.." jeno cursed as he ran a hand through his fringe.

You felt your bodies emitting fog from the fever, glistening with sweat.

Just after that, you both heard a knock and someone's shouting.

"Are you guys done there? Jeno, get your loud ass out there right now, we're running out of time." 

You wouldn't miss whose voice it was.

It's fucking na jaemin. You felt embarrassment creep down your spine when you realized he found out, although nothing like the rest of the members doesn't know about the relationship you two have. But still, caught red handed fucking in the backstage with his band mate is a little bit..

"That's embarrassing.." you sigh while covering your face, making jeno chuckled as he patted your head.

"He'll get used to it." He smiled like a puppy, as he not merely fuck you senseless just now.

-

You said that it's embarrassing. But it seems like you're liking how unusual things did give you some thrilling sensations you can't explain. Since then, you've had sex with jeno in the void meeting room when everybody's leaving from work. It's giving you anxiety on what if someone's barge in, or the worst-you'd get kicked out from the company and never ever get the same job even at the different place again-but funnily, you can't resist the good feeling jeno made you and the realization that you were actually enjoying the shit, eventually not giving any fuck if someone know.

Another day of you and jeno spending time together in the same room, giving some different kind of affections to each other. And you're just too afraid to say something; to ask him: 'what are we?' Because you couldn't be more happy with what's happening between you two now. And tonight is a bit different because you feel your heart ache in the way he hold you as he won't let go.

"Jeno.." you arched your back when his tongue trailed from your abdomen up to your breasts while he attempted to unclasp your bra.

After freeing the flesh, he mumbled in awe, "beautiful."

He latched his tongue on your nipple, swirling it with purpose, to make you even wet just for him, and him only, just like the way he liked it.

"Fuck, it feels so good, don't stop," you pulled on his hair, a signal for him to keep going. 

"Yeah? You like that, pretty girl?" Jeno kneaded on your swell as he sucked again on your nipple.

"Louder. Moan louder for me." And that's what you did. Your fucked up sounds is a music to his ears, railing him up to the extent where he just wanted to sink in you. 

Jeno cupped your sex, your panties were damp in arousal. "Shit, look at you. So fucking wet." He slid his fingers up and down your panties before he slipped his fingers in. You whimpered when his cold digit met your folds. He only play with your opening and clit, but it already drive you crazy. You're practically drooling, he's collecting your essence on his fingers before he bring it up to his mouth, tasting your arousal. You huff and puff, look already fucked up before him when he barely did anything.

"So pretty. So fucked up. So needy for me."

All you did is fucking whine. Lee jeno is driving you insane.

"Please," you plead. "Jeno,"

"Hm? What is it princess?" He asked with a sweet mocking tone.

"Fingers. Want your fingers inside me." You sternly told him, but your gaze was infirm.

He chuckled then replied, "of course baby, you'll have it. But later. I have to taste you first. Will you let me?"

He asked for your permission and what on earth is stopping you from letting him eat you out? Of course you would never say no.

"Pleasee," your whiny voice made him smile from ear to ear in satisfaction.

"Love it when you beg."

Jeno get down to eye level with your pussy before dive in. Your hips wouldn't stop thrusting up to him and pulling his hair, his strong hands looping on your thighs. At this rate his face buried deep between you legs and tongue prod into your cunt, exploring your hole, lips trying so hard to swallow you up, open mouthed kiss at your pussy, sucking and lapping. He's eating you out like there's no tomorrow. 

"Fuck, i think i'm gonna cum."

Jeno chuckled, "already? So spoilt."

Jeno bring his fingers down and curled the digit expertly inside your pussy, you're wiggling like crazy when he reached that sweet spot that got your pussy tightening around him, then he sucked your clit hard, made you cum in instant at his doing.

You gradually came down from your high and stared at him in the eye, begging.

"Jeno, please, let me suck you off."

He feels like he's flying up the cloud seeing you prettily begged for him. Then he smiled, "can't say no to a pretty girl like you."

You bit your lip before you kneeled in front of him, taking a hand of his hard cock and kissed the tip. You hold onto his balls while you licked and sucked along his shaft until your tongue met with the tip, then sink into his cock, swallowing him whole. You bobbed your head up and down, sucking in intensity. He groaned and bring his hand through your hair, while he got his head thrown back against the headboard.

"You're doing so good baby, keep going."

He hissed painfully, his muscles clenched and his grab on your hair is getting tight. Your left hand massaging his balls, mouth sucking at the tip, the other hand stroking the rest of his shaft.

"Fuck, i'm not gonna last." He hold your head and thrust into your mouth, chasing his high. Your gagged sound heard all over the room, eyes pricked from tears. His groan went louder and that's when he came all over your mouth, and you swallowed all of his seed like a good girl, his good girl.

You lap all of his fluid, cleaning his cock clean, and lick your own lips.

"God you're pretty." His stare full with admiration, then he caged you between his arms, locked your lips with his in a passionate kiss. Tongue dancing with each other, nipping at one's lip. Both of you moan into the kiss, until he break it first.

Your back arched so high, hips pressed against his own, wanted more just than kissing him, but he pushed your belly down and leaned in.

"Need you now. Need to make love to you."

Once again, your heart sank at his confession. You're already tearing up as he pushed his big cock into you, soon picking up a steady pace to thrust between your wall, all while kissing you out. His kiss felt so soft and sweet, but also fragile at the same time. Your bodies met, no space in between. You hug him tightly, so afraid that he might just run away or disappear in the blink of an eye. He made you feel so good you're crying, can't even think or talk straight, your mind felt numb.

That night, you remembered vividly the last word he said before you passed out.

"I love you."

-

The rainy night made you feel all lazy. You wouldn't get up from bed if you just didn't feel the urge to go to the convenience store and fulfill your craving with some warm food. You're definitely starving.

You take out your umbrella because it's still raining, but as you nearly arrived, it's became a drizzle before it came to a stop.

You fold your umbrella as you walk closer, but before entering the place, you definitely saw jeno at the dark aisle between two buildings; making out with who the fuck you don't care, as if someone could've not just pass by and saw them two passionately changing spits.

You froze in your place, can't even walk any closer to where jeno was. You felt anger bubbling up to your chest and at the same time, you can't help your heart from breaking into pieces.

But as someone's controlling you, you suddenly stomped on your feet, making a way to them with balled fists, and you nearly scream when you call him out.

"Jeno."

The two broke the kiss after couple of seconds as if they're unbothered, both dripping from the drizzle. He turned at you, eyes dark and indicating that he wasn't even surprised to see you there. 

But then he opened his mouth, "how th-"

"What the fuck?" You cut him before he talk, spitting your anger out, voice all husky and spiteful, extremely vulnerable at the same time.

"Who the fuck is that?" Your eyes burned from restraining tears roll down your cheeks.

"What happened with the other days when we literally spent time together? Yesterday, you just- we just- fuck, i- i thought you just said that you lo-"

You can't help but blubbering, can't even say the last word you meant from spilling out. It's too much.

The girl he was making out with tried to walk away, but he grabbed her wrist.

You scoffed, speechless.

Did he just stop her?

Sickeningly, he just walked by you as he made a way out while dragging her with him.

You swear you just felt so fucking dumbfounded. He didn't even say a word since earlier.

When you can't hold your tears back again, you break out and scream his name out. 

"LEE JENO!"

He looked back from his shoulder, but he still put the same blank expression in front of you before he chuckled.

"Well. Looks like i've got nothing to explain since you already saw it."

Still standing with the balled fists, you can't even talk as you were trying so hard to figure things out. Why the fuck did he do this? Did this to you?

"I believe you're capable enough to think with your little brain, princess."

Suddenly, the rain started to pouring again, leaving you all soaked up gradually.

He's giving you the nastiest smile he have ever showed you as he made his getaway with the girl and said,

"Wake the fuck up. I have never loved you."

―

And that's when you wake up from your dreams.

As your eyes fluttered, you felt tears running from the corner of your eyes, making your sideburns damp uncomfortably.

This fucking whole thing is a dream. A dream that's so real.

No wonder that all of it was happening so fast; and absurd.

Now you can't even think of jeno the same way anymore if you see him at work. 

You checked your phone. Of course it's december. You laughed bitterly at yourself when you realized you trapped with jeno in your dreams when it's fucking summer. You swear you can even feel the heat. It just felt so true.

You get up on your elbows then cursed under your breath before muttered to yourself, "never thought you'd love and hurt me at the same time."

And it's not even in the real world.

Is it better because it's just a dream? Or is it not because the real thing is even more an awful truth you need to accept?

That's when you realized that the meaning of impossible is literally as it is. It's the time for you to understand that both of you is poles apart, that he is different.

You'll never ever get him, and you need to forget him; as he might already forget you.

#nct angst #nct smut #jeno angst #jeno smut #nct hard hours #nct dream hard hours #jeno hard hours #nct dream angst #kpop smut #kpop angst #nct imagines #nct scenarios #jeno scenarios #jeno x reader #jeno fic #lee jeno #nct dream #nct dream smut #nct fic #nct fanfic #nct x reader #nct dream scenarios #nct dream imagines #nct dream x reader #nct drabbles #jeno #nct #nct imagine #nct scenario #nct drabble

[moonshynecybin]

context here and here... short fic (~1k words) about reporter au marc, turning over what their sepang could be... unspeakably divorced vibes to this one...

Marc lays the recorder down in front of Valentino. He starts, carefully neutral:

“So. You were a little bit shaky on the braking this weekend, was there any specific reason? It looked like you were having trouble with grip?”

Vale crosses his arms, narrow posture folding.

“Marc.” He counters. Face serious.

Marc ignores him. Ignores the tornado shredding his stomach. He scribbles something in his notebook, mindlessly underlining a question he doesn’t even want to ask. He’s been trying to keep it more professional, after the last few weeks. After—

“Do you need me to repeat the question?” He says.

Vale doesn’t give an inch. “Why did you write that article?”

So he did see it. Marc flicks his eyes up from his notebook, quick. Vale’s eyes bore into him. unerring. Feline.

He shrugs a little. Sucks on his teeth.

“Did you have a problem with it?” He shouldn’t, really. Wouldn’t if it were anyone else. Marc’s just doing his job, he won’t compromise that for anyone. Journalism isn't about making people happy.

“No.” Vale says, and Marc’s asked him enough questions at this point to know what he looks like when he lies.

He fingers the end of Marc’s recorder. Long hands against shitty plastic. He switches it off.

“You didn’t tell me this was going to be off the record.” Marc says mildly, like he’s joking. He doesn’t know what Vale wants from this— apparently not an interview—and judging by the expression dragging at the corners of his face, the chances of Vale indulging the small part of Marc scaffolded on hope are slim. In fact, a picture is starting to form, uneasy and edgy, lighting the barely-dormant spark of hurt in his gut.

He can’t be serious.

Vale laughs, brittle and hard.

“So you don’t regret it?”

He is serious.

Marc puts his pen down as something in him clenches, sick and determined. Vale can’t— he shouldn’t get to do this, after the last few weeks. shouldn’t get to be mad at him for the sort of article that he wouldn’t care about if anyone else had written it. Not after how he's ignored Marc, skipping over him in press scrums. After how he implied Marc was overstepping, too familiar. Not professional. After how Marc— after they—

After.

Marc feels like an idiot. Whatever. His piece is still good, his writing stands on its own. It asks valid questions, makes the correct comparisons, and gives Jorge Lorenzo a few hard-earned compliments. It's an incisive article. Interesting. Impersonal. Entirely professional.

Just like Vale wanted.

“Why would I?”

Vale keeps studying him, and Marc thinks a muscle jumps in his jaw. He meets him head on, intense. That same chemistry that they’ve been building for the last few seasons turned sour now, crackling like a live wire. Vale’s eyes drop to Marc’s mouth, then back to his eyes. His expression sets.

Marc sees him arrive at some sort of conclusion.

It can’t be just about the article— others have said worse, gone farther. Marc was careful to stay in bounds, tame and even normal compared to some of the other journos in the paddock. No remarks about his personality or his age. Just a few observations about how Jorge is steadily gaining in the standings, and how Vale is slowly losing the lead he’s had all season. The facts, as Marc sees them. Objective.

But Marc has also never written anything like that before. Has built a name for himself on complex opinions and strategic analysis. On the experience he has as a former racer, and as someone who was supposed to be on the other side of the recorder— supposed to be answering questions instead of asking them. On interviews strengthened by the easy, genuine relationship he has with Valentino Rossi.

But it’s not like he can exactly rely on that last one anymore.

Vale tilts his head forward, eyebrows up. A wry little expression plays across his face, there for a flash, before he shakes his head and pushes back his chair.

“Eh, I guess you are right.” Vale stands, nods. He leans over the table and waves a hand in the air, face animated. Cheerful, if you don’t know him. Studied nonchalance. “Why would you? It’s your job.”

He says the last bit like it means something, extra emphasis on each syllable.

“It is my job.” Marc agrees.

“Right.” Vale says, after a moment, tension threading through them both, taught as a bow string.

He says it like it’s final. Like it’s the end of something. It's exactly the same tone of voice he used a few weeks ago in Phillip Island, when Marc had stumbled out of the cold bed in his crappy hotel room and saw Vale fully dressed, looking for his wallet. About to leave. His head had whipped up when he saw Marc awake, and the look on his face was crystal clear. Had made Marc abruptly feel like he was about to vomit, cold rising from his toes as Vale started to speak.

Too young. Too close. Too unprofessional.

Right.

“Right.” Vale says again now, confirming whatever he sees in Marc’s face, blue eyes clear and remote. The hinge of his jaw is wound tight, day-old stubble blurring his sideburns.

Marc’s chest throbs.

He doesn’t say anything, lets the silence fill the room until it’s about to burst.

Vale stares at him a minute longer before he turns and leaves, door swinging behind him.

Marc sits there, staring at his notebook for a long time.

He doesn’t end up writing anything.

#its like. marc being hurt and not technicallyyyy doing anything wrong or outside of his job. but still kind of deciding to ruin vale's day #and stick it to his ego about the championship... #motogp #callie speaks #rosquez #my fic #reporter au

[zepskies]

Why We Love the Boys

As promised, here is my review of Supes Ain’t Always Heroes. I actually used to write book reviews in my high school journalism days, so here we go!  

What this book is: A masterful deep dive. A study on character psychology, the source of the comic and show’s inspiration, and the narrative themes illustrated in The Boys that parallel American culture and our real lives.

It includes interviews from one of the comic’s creators, Darick Robertson, The Krip himself (Eric Kripke), and actors Jim Beaver (Robert Singer), Aya Cash (Stormfront), Chace Crawford (The Deep), Jessie T. Usher (A-Train), Nathan Mitchell (Black Noir), and of course, Jensen Ackles (Soldier Boy).

It also includes a small but significant ode to the creativity of fans and fandom (with a mention of fanfic writers)!

I’ll admit, I felt seen. 😊

Who wrote it: Psychologists Lynn S. Zubernis and Matthew Snyder. Zubernis is a self-proclaimed fangirl of not only this show, but Supernatural and Eric Kripke in general. (That aspect definitely comes through in her writing.)

She is also editor of Family Don’t End with Blood: Cast and Fans on How Supernatural Changes Lives and There’ll Be Peace When you Are Done: Actors and Fans Celebrate the Legacy of Supernatural. Both of which I now want to read.

Several other authors also contributed to this book, as their expertise and backgrounds lend to the subjects they’re covering, such as racism, sexism, the entertainment industry, the comic’s inception, and more.

Who wants to read this book: Anyone who enjoys learning about what makes characters tick. What drives their choices, their sense of morality and justice, and their trauma and strife that lead them to do heinous things. This book will help you better understand your favorite characters (and how to write about them).

Perhaps most importantly, this book is for anyone who wants to read it put into words, why many of us love The Boys, as well as Supernatural.

In a way, the latter is more escapism entertainment than The Boys. Because in this show, there isn’t much, if any escape.

Despite this being a “superhero show,” as we all know, it’s so much more than that. It’s a mirror held directly into our own faces: about why we enjoy heroes and antiheroes, and excuse the “bad behavior” of the ones we like.

About mental health, grief and loss, nature and nurture, coping mechanisms and the importance of choice in dealing with trauma; of racism, sexism, misogyny, weaponized social media, politics, corporate greed, and the power (and cruelty) of good marketing.

This book explores the true villain of the story (and it ain’t Homelander).

I’m going to get into my favorite aspects of this book—as well as an amazing chapter on Soldier Boy’s character study (and why we love him, perhaps too much).

Though in my opinion, it was missing one small, but key thing…

The Mirror of The Boys on Screen

This world is a gritty, bloody, and at times all-too realistic take on how superheroes would be if they lived in our world.

They are the worst of celebrities, professional athletes, and politicians all rolled into one. They are the shiny products of a company and are marketed as such. And they often buy into their own hype.

Some of my favorite quotes on this topic:

“The Boys often reflects darkness in our real world that is uncomfortable to watch. While we go through the tedium of our daily lives, trying to get by and using television or comics as an escape, it can feel difficult and overwhelming to confront the very real and insidious sources of authoritarianism, nationalism, and corporatism that are not just part of a story. “This show holds up a mirror and forces us to catch a glimpse of things we need to question, and asks us why we so easily believe the talking points of systems with marketing departments and press flacks behind them that carefully massage every word in order to get us to feel enamored with their product or policy.” (p. 227-228)

“The Boys works to reveal the nonaltruistic, sociopathic nature of contemporary US corporate culture. In a sense, The Boys uses the behavior of its characters to diagnose not an individual, but a culture.” (255)

In studying narrative I’ve learned that the best fiction and art serve to reflect the human experience. In this case, it’s something The Boys does expertly, even though it’s packaged in extreme, shocking, and often uncomfortable ways. But also in brutal, hilarious satire that’s fun to watch.

It “exposes real-world abuses, revealing many” of our own frustrations in American culture and in life in general (267).

Major Themes & Questions Explored

Several Boys themes are explored from a psychological, cultural, and narrative point of view, as I mentioned earlier. These are some of my favorite segments:

Toxic Masculinity & Narcissism

A whopper in The Boys, and the main theme of season 3. This book defines clearly what both of these words actually mean from a psychological point of view.

It also takes the bad taste out of your mouth that you might get from just hearing the words “toxic masculinity,” as it’s a phrase that can be carelessly thrown around to describe men and character traits that aren’t truly toxic.

How being emotionally available to your loved ones and not repressive of your feelings doesn’t make you weak, or less of a man. And how “being strong” doesn’t mean being physically violent and domineering. (AKA: the Big Swinging Dick™️ in the room.)

Narcissism is explored in a very interesting way. The book gives a diagram of different aspects of narcissists and how each character (Soldier Boy, Homelander, Butcher, and the Deep) falls into them.

Soldier Boy, for example, is classified as a “Classic Narcissist,” while Homelander a “Malignant Narcissist.” <- This will play into SB’s character study, and the main difference between SB and Homelander.

Butcher, however, displays narcissistic tendencies but is not, in fact, a narcissist. (More of an antisocial sociopath. Yay for him.)

Misogyny & Sexism

The classic superhero world of comics dates back to the 1930s and ‘40s. It has been, and in many respects still is a (White) male-dominated industry, where in narrative, female superheroes typically work under a male leading the team, as in Justice League, Teen Titans, and the Avengers.

As much as I love DC and Marvel comics, female characters have also been drawn wildly sexual for male readers and the male gaze, and non-supe characters have been written primarily as love interests and damsels for the hero to save. (Think Lois Lane, Lana Lang, and Mary Jane.)

Modern adaptions have given female characters more agency, but their foundations were rooted in underlying sexism and the mythic hero—an Odysseus-type with certain characteristics of male strength and heroism. And that goes all the way back to classic literature, like The Odyssey, Beowulf, and the Epic of Gilgamesh.

In The Boys, the female supes go through the same issues as their comic counterparts. And they are treated how women are treated in the real world—marketable as sexual objects. (Starlight’s forced costume change is a prime example.)

Author Danielle Turchiano argues in the book that the women in power at Vought (Madelyn Stillwell, later Ashley) are given only so much power as men like Stan Edgar and Homelander give to them.

Stillwell, Ashley, and even Stormfront “drink the Kool Aid” of the misogynistic infrastructure of Vought, but they’re not truly “powerful” in and of themselves. (112)

And I would add that the only female characters that have or find true agency are Grace Mallory, Annie January/Starlight, and Maggie Shaw/Queen Maeve. Even Victoria Neuman is trying to work the political schematic and Vought by operating “within the system” Vought has created.

Mental Health, Trauma & Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms

This is a huge section, and rightly so. It kind of spans throughout the book, really, because all of these characters have traumas that inform who they are as adults making the (often grotesque) choices they make.

For many of these characters, it stems from their upbringing and fraught relationships with their parents, whether explicitly or implicitly explored in the show.

Butcher: Is an antisocial sociopath with narcissistic tendencies. Arrogant, emotionally manipulative, violent, and obsessive. He was also physically and emotionally abused by his father, led to use drinking and violence as a means to cope and express himself. His rage is so deep under his skin—he loathes himself for it (and his father), but struggles immensely to escape it.

Homelander: A malignant narcissist, the height of arrogance, and emotionally manipulative. He lacks empathy for others' pain, and in fact enjoys inflicting it. Yet he was a sensitive, gentle child who only wanted connection and love. Vogelbaum raised him like a lab rat and fostered him in a cold, detached cell. He was raised to be entitled and to believe he was an all-powerful god, the lord of his own kingdom within his mind, excused from the responsibility of his actions.

Soldier Boy: Also a narcissist; violent, arrogant, misogynistic, and often indifferent to the damage he causes, emotional or physical. Yet he was also emotionally abused by his father, who set impossible standards for what it meant to be a man. It drives Ben to try and prove his worth to his father, though he’s never able to. It fosters the lack of self-worth he feels as he seeks validation through fame and what he believes power to be.

These three characters have many similarities, but also notable differences that set them apart from one another. And both Butcher and Soldier Boy use substances like drugs and alcohol to cope with their traumas—ones that their forced stoicism and sense of manhood won’t allow them to easily express.

“We see Soldier Boy use substances almost continuously in season three to deal with his PTSD from the childhood emotional abuse he received from his father, the betrayal and assault from his team, and the torture he endured from the Russian scientists.

“In the short term, the use of drugs and alcohol to avoid thoughts and feelings about traumatic experiences can be felt as helpful, but in the long term, it hinders one’s ability to process emotions and can cause a deeper depression from the guilt and shame of both avoidance and substance abuse.” (27)

Heroes, Antiheroes & Villains

This book explores two key questions that the show encourages you to think about:

Who the hell is the hero of this story?

And who is the villain?

The surface-level answer is that Homelander and other supes like him are the villains, and Butcher and his band of bros are the heroes (or antiheroes). But they commit just as questionable, sketchy, and downright murderous acts as the supes they’re trying to take down.

“Butcher is not really a good guy. He’s manipulative and self-centered. His reasons for wanting to take down Homelander are utterly personal. That it serves the greater good is almost a coincidence.” (9)

And if Butcher is not a hero, but a vengeful vigilante, then why do we root for him so much?

Well, we see his incredible flaws. But I sympathize with his struggle in losing his wife and the life he could've continued to have with her. I root for the underdog going against the hydra head of Vought and the psychopathic Homelander.

And I see in Butcher, as I also do with Homelander and Soldier Boy, their traumas and their internal conflicts, their deep-rooted self-loathing, and a desire, deep, deep down…to be loved.

(And to foster connection with others, even if they’re unable to sustain them.)

On the flipside, we have antagonists in this show who do truly heinous things. What makes them compelling and even sympathetic, yet again, are their painful upbringings that have shaped them to be who they are. The supes of this show are byproducts of being treated like products.

Like the saying goes: Villains aren’t born, they’re made.

That’s why the real villain of this story is Vought International. It’s an allegory, and an indictment of the ruthless corporate greed that pervades American culture—and much of the world.

It’s why Stan Edgar is sometimes scarier to me than even Homelander (and was the true villain of my story, Break Me Down), if far more insidious.

Speaking of BMD, let’s get to it, shall we?

Here’s a (lot) bit about the Soldier Boy section of the book.

Soldier Boy: Why We Can’t Hate Him

I had to laugh out loud at the title of Soldier Boy’s chapter:

Loving the Villain: The Confusing Case of Soldier Boy

I’m not gonna lie. I felt called out. 😂

It is a confusing dichotomy. Soldier Boy is an absolute asshole. Misogynistic, narcissistic, arrogant, callous, violent…

But also deeply traumatized, a man-out-of-time, emotionally abused, byproduct of the historically and culturally different time he was raised in, a man who just doesn’t get it…

And also charming, adorably grumpy, and undoubtedly attractive.

It’s hard to indict “Ben” as an unredeemable villain in the same way I do Homelander, the psychologist-labelled Malignant Narcissist.

Therein lies the main difference between Soldier Boy and Homelander: Soldier Boy doesn’t take joy in harming others the way Homelander does. But he still harms people, whether he means to or not.

Zubernis confirms many of my own conclusions and ideas about Soldier Boy, and why I still rooted for him to be better, and didn’t want him to die at the end of season 3.

As Zubernis rightly exclaimed during her own watch of the finale: “Noooo, don’t kill the Danger Grandpa Baby Murder Kitten!” (175)

Because Jensen did what he does best in his roles: He made us feel Ben’s pain.

“What’s funny is, in regard to Jensen playing Soldier Boy, you know he’s fucking fantastic, he’s just so good at bringing the audience, and it’s almost like—what I laugh about is, he was probably a little too good at his job!” Kripke said. (180)

And he continues, “In part it’s because of the fandom. So many people took his side in the finale, they’re like, Were’s on his side, fuck everyone! And you’re like, but he’s the bad guy and he’s trying to kill a ten-year-old.”

Were there fans who held this viewpoint? I’m sure. There are some radicals who don’t give a fuck and will side with their favorite character, come whatever. But while I can’t speak for others, that’s not how I interpreted that moment in the season 3 finale.

Yes, I think Soldier Boy was (wrongfully) willing to fight Ryan. Do I think he would’ve killed him? I’m not sure. I think he would’ve done what he had to do to get Ryan out of his way in his fight with Homelander. Maybe he would’ve been more violent than he intended, in the callous collateral damage he’d shown throughout the season, or maybe he would’ve gone that far, if provoked.

It’s a tough call, as I think this character can go one way or the other in terms of his “villain” nature. We just haven’t seen enough of him in the series yet for me to make that conclusion on the canon-version of Soldier Boy. (In fanfic, I’ve explored my own interpretation.)

But overall, I think The Krip once again underestimated the power of Jensen’s acting.

…And the ardent nature of his mostly female fanbase. 😂

Why We Love Soldier Boy

The author cites multiple reasons for why we love Ben more than we probably should:

It’s Jensen Ackles. Fair enough. His talent speaks for itself.

Soldier Boy’s backstory: He was emotionally abused by his father and as a result, he has a complex regarding his self-worth, “something to prove,” and a secret need for attention, validation, and praise.

He has trauma and PTSD: He is displaced from what is familiar to him and confused when the boys find him, and that is the least of it. He’s been tortured for 40 years. Can you even conceive of that?

He’s charming: in a sexy grandpa, adorably grumpy, lovable asshole kind of way.

We’re drawn to danger: dangerous “edgy” types are fun, especially when you’re physically attracted to the character.

He has his moments of vulnerability: Jensen’s ability to play the nuance in the character is the ultimate draw. I felt his pain, could see his torture, and his resulting PTSD. He longs for a family, even if his ability to bring up those children is questionable at best. 😅

But I think the one aspect the author doesn’t consider is the character’s capacity for change.

Soldier Boy’s Potential

Again, I don’t think you can write off Soldier Boy’s potential for positive character development the same way you can Homelander, or even Butcher.

For one thing, we just haven’t spent enough time with the character. A lot of his collateral damage after he escapes imprisonment has been accidental, or PTSD-induced. Though we can’t discount how he murdered M.M.’s grandfather via collateral damage (and was callous about it).

I think this is what drew me to write about Soldier Boy. “For all his arrogance, his chauvinism, his massive ego and general bastardry, there’s still humanity in Ben.”

In the book, Nathan Mitchell also says something amazing about his own character (Black Noir) that resonated with me about Soldier Boy as well:

"One of the ingredients of a compelling character is contradiction. How does one aspect of our personality contradict with one another? [...] Who is he underneath? How might his true nature contrast with the demands of his job?"

Or coded for Soldier Boy/Ben: The pressures he puts on himself to be the type of man he thought his father wanted him to be.

Again, his sexist, misogynistic ideals are shaped by the time he was raised in, by being a product of Vought, and of his father’s emotionally abusive upbringing. Does this excuse or justify all of his behavior? Of course not.

But I think those 40 years in captivity changed him from the careless alpha dog we saw in 1984 Nicaragua…

He admits to Crimson Countess, with tears in his eyes, that he’d loved her. That he waited for her and his team—arguably the only social system he has in his life—to save him. He’s gutted to realize that not only did she and the rest of the team never love him, they hated him. They traded him for nothing. Just to get him out of their lives.

For all he claims to be afraid of nothing, tough as shit, he is afraid when he goes to face Mindstorm. He knows what the supe is capable of, and he visibly takes a shaky breath and tries to steel himself.

For a moment, he drops the “Soldier Boy” persona that he wears like a fine tailored suit. And he tells Butcher that the backstory Vought created for him was a lie; he grew up a rich kid who got sent to boarding school, but flunked out, because "he was a fuck up." And his father couldn’t be bothered to discipline him, implying he didn’t care enough about his own son to even lay a hand on him.

He is reluctant to kill Homelander when he finds out he’s Ben’s son (sort of). He even claims that he would’ve been willing to share the spotlight “with his own son.” — Something I doubt even Homelander would do.

Ben even seems to be fighting tears when he levies the same vitriol at Homelander that his own father did at him:

Homelander: “Weak? I’m you.”

Soldier Boy: “I know. You’re a fucking disappointment.”

Let me be clear. I don’t think it’s up to someone to change him (like a love interest). I don’t subscribe to that thinking, that a woman can “change” a man.

For example: In season 2, Butcher tells Becca, “Who was I before you? Nothing.”

And yet, she tells him that he put her on an unrealistic and unsustainable pedestal, in which she felt like she wasn’t allowed to fully be herself, unable to keep him from flying off the handle in rage. That kind of relationship (where one is dependent on the other to “keep them in check”) doesn’t work as a lasting, satisfying redemption arc, and it doesn’t work in real life either.

I do think, however, that a person is capable of change if they’re broken down enough (pun intended), and if they themselves have a desire to change. Someone they encounter can inspire them to be better, like Butcher with Hughie. That person can help support the other.

At the end of the day, however, it’s Ben that has to want to change.

If he wants love and connection, he’ll have to somehow want it, and try (and sometimes fail) to get it, thereby giving him agency and a redemptive character arc.

Now, obviously, it’s up to The Krip where Ben goes from here. He seems to have a more indicting vision of the character than I do (at least, so far). But we’ll see! The fan demand to bring back the character has already had Kripke confirming that Soldier Boy will be back.

Maybe it will encourage him to give the character a more satisfying ending than Dean Winchester got in Supernatural. Though granted, that one wasn’t his doing, apparently he was in favor of the ending the writers came up with.

Comparing Dean & Ben

In his interview segment, Jensen talks about what, if any, are the comparisons between Dean Winchester and Soldier Boy. AKA: Wanting a father’s approval, and an undercurrent of “John Wayne”-esque masculinity in John Winchester that Dean sought to emulate.

Jensen also talks about where he drew from to not only embody the character of Soldier Boy, but bring nuance to him—and show the peeks of vulnerability under the bravado and stoicism.

“He’s so fragile and his ego is fragile. Just like Homelander. These bigger-than-life powerful heroes really have a glass jaw… “And everyone walks on eggshells around him [Soldier Boy], and they tell him that they love him, and it’s the same with Homelander. Then when all of a sudden he faces his old team and Crimson Countess says we never loved you, we hated you—that’s a gut punch for him. Because even though on some level he may have known that, he never thought he would hear it. “And he probably propped himself up around trying to believe otherwise, because how can you walk around knowing everyone you’ve ever cared about hates you? It’s too painful.” (191)

It really is. And I inherently felt this about Soldier Boy/Ben when I watched season 3 for the first time. That’s exactly what I got from his performance and thought, there’s more to this guy than the toxic masculinity he represents.

This guy just wants to be loved, like everyone else. He wants to feel important, and even after his father’s dead, “show him” that Ben is the man his father wanted him to be. And so, he bought into the illusion Vought painstakingly crafted for him.

Whether he can come back from that remains to be seen. But I choose to be optimistic until evidence points to the contrary. 😅 (We’ll see in season 4!)

So that’s my personal take on Soldier Boy and this awesome book. 💚 Thank you again @kaleldobrev for recommending it to me! I hope you all enjoyed my long-winded review and want to check this out.

And if you do read it, I hope to read your thoughts as well!

Tagging people who said they wanted to read my review on this book: @venus-haze @jessjad @kristophalis @sl33pylilbunny

#supes ain't always heroes #book review #why we love the boys #the boys #my take on Soldier Boy #boys psychology #character study #cast interviews #jensen ackles #soldier boy #Homelander #billy butcher #aya cash #stormfront #jim beaver #robert singer #nathan mitchell #black noir #chance crawford #jessie t. usher #the deep #a-train #book rec #zepskies reads #zepskies reviews

[cielcreations]

Ending 5: Made With Love (Dead Plate)

Trigger Warning: Cannibalism at the very end. Also a bit of mature content. Nothing too graphic, just grinding, but it's still there so if you don't like, ignore.

"Oh, wow, you actually showed up for training." The man said in a deep, gruff voice.

"On time, too!" The energetic man smiled.

"Barely." He sighed, putting one hand on his hips, "This is a highly sought after position, Rody. Be grateful you're even getting the benefit of being told how to do your job. Your resume showed many... many jobs in the service industry, so I assume you already have this down." He sighed again, "Though, I am choosing to ignore the rate at which you got new positions."

"Hey! Having 28 service industry jobs over the course of seven years is pretty impressive when you think about it, Vincent!" Rody smiled sheepishly.

"And even less impressive when you think about it for five more seconds." The chef groaned, crossing his arms over his chest, "But with those jobs, you likely already know how to seat customers. Keep in mind how many people are dining. You don't want a large group crowding around a private area. Once they're ready, they'll put their menu down and you'll go check on them."

Rody grabbed a menu, reading through it, "'What we're serving today?'" He read aloud, questioning.

"Yes, patrons don't pick what they eat, instead we have a strict menu that changes daily." Vincent narrowed his eyes, "You would know that if you read the interview."

"I, uh, skimmed it..."

"Hm." The chef hummed, unimpressed, "Once you have their meal ticket, bring it to the marker between the window and the door, that'll send it to the kitchen. The cooks will start working on whatever order you have right away, but keep in mind they prioritize cooking the dessert, side, meal, and appetizer. In that order. Do not pester or distract any of the cooks if it's taking too long. Once the order is ready, you'll find it at the window to then serve to the customers. They'll ask for more after their appetizer, so do not make them wait too long. Once they're ready for the bill, go behind the counter to check them out. Once they're done with their meal, make sure to clean their table. I don't want guests thinking we leave messes out in the open. The garbage is in the kitchen, right next to the back door. Take the trash and bring it out to the alley behind the kitchen to throw it out."

"Got it!" Rody nodded, taking it all in.

Vincent then took a menu and handed it to the redhead, "Here's a menu. Make sure to study it. Now that you know the basics, make sure you do a good job. I don't want our customers thinking we're anything less than professional."

"But, I'm not-"

"Exactly." Vincent waved him off, "If you need me, I'll be in the back. Good luck."

With Vincent in the back, Rody cleaned off the tables and began his shift. He made sure to seat and smile at the customers, taking their orders and sending it off to the chefs like it was nothing. He cleaned and bused the tables, making sure to take out the trash when needed. He mainly kept his head down the first day, that way he wouldn't get in any trouble and Vincent wouldn't feel the need to either yell or fire him for messing up.

He finished cleaning the last table, washing the dishes, and taking out the trash one last time.

"Rody." Vincent called.

The redhead stiffened a bit but turned around, "Yes?"

Vincent held out a plate, "Green Onion Rolls."

Rody stared at the plate, "...What about them?"

The chef sighed, "Take them home. We had leftovers, the food is for you."

"Really?!" Rody exclaimed excitedly, smiling, "Thank you! Do we have a to-go box or something?"

Vincent looked around. He took an empty box and slid the plate inside it, "It's not a to-go box, but it will make do."

The redhead smiled at the chef, "Thank you, Vince!"

He then went back to his apartment. Once inside, he sat on the couch, reaching for the phone. He dialed her number, waiting. When all he got was the phone ringing, he sighed. Guess she's busy. He thought. He opened his box and stood up, walking to the utensils drawer. He took out a fork, eating the Green Onion Rolls.

"Wow!" Rody exclaimed, smiling brightly, "I'll have to thank Vince again, these are amazing!"

He ate them all and went to bed.

***

"Sorry I'm late..."

"'Sorry?'" Vincent repeated as he turned around, slowly looking up from his papers, "Sorry doesn't cut it, it's only your second day and you're already-" He stopped himself, eyes widening as he finally faced Rody, "-Why do you look like that?"

"I, uh, thought biking through the rain would dry me as I go..." Rody explained, standing on the porch as he squeezed the water out of his shirt, "Turns out? It soaks you faster."

Vincent took a deep breath. He grabbed Rody's wrist, dragging him inside and to his office.

"Sit." Vincent demanded, the redhead doing so. The chef took out two towels, wrapping one around Rody's shoulders, using a smaller towel to begin to dry off his hair, "Dry off. You can't be seen by customers looking like this."

Rody hugged the towel more around his body as Vincent continued to dry off his hair.

"You do know umbrellas exist for a reason, yes?"

"I don't own one!"

The chef widened his eyes, pausing his movements. He seemed to process the words before continuing to help dry him off, lowering the towel to the back of his neck, "I'll give you mine for the ride back. Make sure this doesn't happen again."

"Oh, uh, thanks! But-" The redhead tilted his head back to look up at Vincent, "-how are you gonna be getting home without it?"

"I live here."

"...Like, in the restaurant or-?"

"My apartment is upstairs." He pushed Rody's head down, continuing to dry it.

"Oh." The redhead blinked, "That makes a lot more sense now."

"Is there a problem." Vincent asked, the last word a bit harsher than the rest.

"Nah, it's just... isn't that worrying?" Rody looked up again, "Like, if something happens to the building, it's all gonna be gone."

Vincent dropped the towel on his face, earning a squeak, "If you have enough time to talk nonsense, then you're ready for work."

Rody laughed and moved the towel off his face. He quickly dried the last little bits of his hair and smiled at the chef, "Thank you."

"No need to thank me. It's only appropriate. I can't have customers thinking I find that acceptable."

The redhead nodded and folded the towels, placing them on Vincent's desk, "Well, still, thank you."

He walked out of the office and readied himself for work before seating the first people who walked in. He seated everyone, took their orders, served them, cleaned the tables, and checked people out, being able to balance it out very easily. Eventually, when everyone had left, he took out the trash, throwing it away in the back alley before coming back inside. He saw Vincent, staring at the chefs, walking over.

"Hey, Vince, can I ask you something?"

"It's Chef." Vincent corrected.

"Right, uh, Chef, can I ask you something?" Rody once again questioned.

"I doubt you have this much free time to be asking me so many questions, on your second day, no less."

Rody ignored his quip, "Why do you just stand back here?"

"My job is to observe and monitor the chefs. They are to cook my dishes to perfection. If they are to even slightly stray from the way I would cook, I must step in." 

"No wonder your food is so good!" The redhead smiled brightly.

Vincent didn't say anything, merely raising an eyebrow.

"Your food was delicious! I've never tasted something so good! It filled me up and made me crave for more!" The redhead giggled, "No wonder you're an amazing chef, your food makes me feel warm inside!"

A light pink dusted the chef's cheeks as he looked away, "...Get back to work, Rody."

The redhead giggled and nodded, going back out to the dining room. He continued on with his work, seating people and taking their orders once more. After another few hours, his shift ended. He finished cleaning what he needed to and got ready to leave.

"Rody, wait." The redhead turned. Vincent walked over, offering his umbrella as well as a small box, "Inside is Blueberry Crepes. You said you liked the food I made, and there was extra. Here."

The redhead smiled brightly, "Awesome! Thank you, Vince!"

Vincent merely nodded in response. With the chef's umbrella and the food in his hand, Rody went home. Once he got back to his apartment, he once again sat on the couch, looking at the phone. This time, he was a bit hesitant with calling her. However, she once again didn't answer. Guess she's still busy. Rody thought. He changed into his pajamas before sitting on the couch to eat the crepes. He hummed, smiling brightly. They were so fluffy and light, making him smile as he ate the entire plate.

Vincent is such an amazing chef. He thought, smiling slightly, ...So considerate too...

He put the dirty dishes in the sink before laying on the couch to fall asleep.

***

The shift started out normal. He seated who needed to be seated, took the orders to the kitchen, served the food, checked them out, and bussed tables. He was beginning to make very decent tips and was extremely upbeat and happy with his progress. Eventually the trash got full and he had to take it out-

"Ow!" Rody exclaimed, looking at his hand, dropping the bag, "C-Crap-"

"Rody."

The redhead turned, facing Vincent, who was staring at him. He turned panic, "I-I'm sorry! T-There's something i-in the trash!" He looked at his hand, "I-I think it m-may have ripped the b-bag open w-when I dropped it a-a-and-"

"Rody." The chef repeated, taking a step forward.

Blood spilled from his palm, a large cut on it, "I-It cut me! I-I swear, I didn't throw a-anything I-I wasn't suppose to, I-I'll clean it up-"

"You don't need to worry about that. Let me see." Vincent said gently, face remaining calm. He gently took Rody's wrist in one hand, spreading his fingers with the other to see the damage of the wound, "It's a shallow cut, nothing too serious."

"I-I'm sorry-"

"Hush, Rody. This way."

"But the mess-"

"I said you don't have to worry about that. Someone else will clean it." Vincent turned to face the chefs, two immediately jumping to do so. He then led Rody into his office, sitting him in a chair as he carefully applied ointment to the redhead's hand, "You can't be serving customers with this."

"I-I'm really sorry." Rody looked down as Vincent wrapped his hand.

"Accidents happen. It's alright."

"Am I fired?"

"Was this intentional?"

"N-No, of course not-"

"Then there's no reason to be fired." The chef reassured, "Is that why you got freaked out?"

The redhead remained silent.

"Your silence speaks volumes." Vincent stood up, "Stay here for a moment. Collect yourself."

"I-I can-"

"Rody, I'm not asking." The chef interrupted, "You are a little shaken up. That is fine. I can handle the customers for a few minutes. In the meantime, collect yourself. It's alright."

Rody stared at the man before smiling gratefully, "T-Thank you."

Vincent nodded in response. He walked out of his office and Rody sat for a few minutes, calming himself down from his panic attack. When he felt he had calmed down enough, he left the office. He went out to the floor, where Vincent had just finished giving an order to the kitchen.

"I'll tag in!" Rody exclaimed, offering a high five.

The chef rolled his eyes, but let out a small chuckle, gently tapping his hand against the redhead's, "Good. You're feeling better. I'm terrible with customers."

"Never would have guessed." He said sarcastically.

Vincent chuckled once more before disappearing into the kitchen. Rody finished his shift and cleaned everything up. Once he was sure everything was ready for tomorrow, he went into the kitchen to bid his goodbyes. Vincent gave him a plate of Squid Ink Pasta with Shrimp, Rody thanking his profusely. He went home once more, sitting on the couch. He stared at the phone for a minute.

Should I call her? Rody thought. He hesitated but did. He dialed in her number and, with every passing digit, he couldn't help but hope she... wouldn't answer. He didn't want her too, which felt odd when a few days ago, he would have begged her to answer his calls. When she didn't pick up, he sort of sighed in relief. She must be busy. He sat back into the couch, taking a bite of the pasta.

Rody smiled brightly, eating the entire portion, "Man, I totally have to get something to properly thank Vince for all this delicious food!"

He watched a little TV before falling asleep.

***

"Who the hell do you think you are?"

Rody wasn't sure what he walked in on. He was working his shift and was bringing in some dirty dishes to take out the trash when he saw Vincent standing in front of another cook, glaring with such hate and malice.

"I-I apologize, Chef-"

"A 'sorry' doesn't fucking cut it, now does it?" Vincent hissed, accenting his words.

Rody shut the door behind him, not wanting customers to hear as he watched the scene.

"Do you think a dish like that is at all acceptable in my kitchen?!" Vincent gestured to the plate.

"N-No, Chef-"

"Then why did you make it?!"

"I-I don't know, Chef, I m-must've-"

"'You don't know?!'" Vincent raised his voice, his burning hate becoming more pronounced in his voice.

"I-It must've slipped my mind, Chef!" The cook managed to squeak out, "S-Some flour had been left near the stove and I-I didn't want to get burnt-"

Vincent put the man's hands behind his back. One of the Chef's hand held the cook's arms in place as the other grabbed the man by the back of his hair. He then shoved the man's face towards the burner stove, keeping it out of reach of the flames, the man squeaking, Rody gasping.

"Don't��back talk me in my own fucking kitchen, you damn pig." Vincent growled, "If you plan on being a semi-decent cook, you have no conceivable reason to be scared of something like a stove. If you get burnt, you keep cooking. If you can't follow simple safety regulations, it'd be your own damn fault."

The cook gulped, whispering out, "Y-Yes, Chef."

"I can't hear you."

"Y-YES, CHEF!" The cook yelled.

Vincent hummed. He lifted the man back up and let go, "Get the hell back to work." He demanded before turning. His eyes met Rody, the redhead staring with... awe.

Vincent walked to the back corner of the room to once again watch the cooks, Rody moving to stand beside him, "What? Are you going to tell me how what I did was wrong?"

"Are you single?"

"P-Pardon?!" Vincent exclaimed, his composure breaking. He coughed into his hand, quickly regaining it, "W-Why do you ask?"

Rody giggled, smirking, "Was wondering if that's how you treat your lady~!"

"I-I beg your pardon?!" Vincent's composure broke once more, his face turning bright red.

The redhead laughed before he waved his hand around, "I'm teasing, I'm teasing!" He giggled, "I mainly ask because I wanted to know a bit more about you! You must be a ladies man, right? With owning your own restaurant and all?"

"I-I suppose I am..." Vincent cringed.

"So, do you plan to settle down? Maybe have a wife and some kids, hire a manager to run the place?"

"...This is me settling down. I do this for myself."

"You still didn't answer my question."

"What?"

"Are you single?" Rody hummed, smiling.

"...Yes, I am." Vincent admitted, "And no, I don't wish to have a wife."

Rody widened his eyes a bit, "...You bi or something?"

"If you must know, I label myself as gay." Vincent blushed, "Are you satisfied with knowing my nonexistent love life?"

"Yep!" Rody stood in front of Vincent, winking as he smiled slyly, "Cause now I know I might have a chance!"

Before Vincent could respond, the redhead quickly moved to clean his dishes and get back to work. He finished his shift and went to the kitchen. Vincent had a proper to-go box ready for him, the Chef giving it to him and turning away, face still a light shade of red. Rody giggled, winking once more before leaving. He got home and opened the to-go box.

Strawberry Shortcake.

The redhead happily ate the food before turning on the TV. He then grabbed a magazine that was dropped off with the daily newspaper. He browsed through it and looked at all the ads before he widened his eyes. Oh, that's it! That's what I need! He thought. Rody shut the TV off, grabbed a marker, and circled it before laying down on the couch.

He looked at the phone. He reached out before stopping himself, shaking his hand as he closed his eyes.

She's probably busy, and I don't care. Rody thought, falling asleep.

***

The next two days were uneventful in terms of work. Rody and Vincent continued to talk between shifts when they could, the redhead smiling every time and standing a bit closer each time they did talk. Vincent didn't seem to mind. In fact, his stiff posture was loosened as they talked. His shoulders would slump, he wouldn't look so stern. He still tried to maintain a blank face, but he couldn't help the occasional smile that fell on his lips. Rody was sent home with a Croque Madame and a Lemon Tart the previous two days, which he ate and made sure to praise Vincent for.

However, the third day, Rody went into the kitchen and Vincent wasn't there to give him a plate of food. In fact, Vincent wasn't there, period. He looked around, even knocked on his office door. The Chef just wasn't there. He sighed. Granted, he wasn't owed any food, but he did appreciate the food and he did want it, simply because he loved Vincent's cooking.

No matter, he went home and got changed, beginning to think of what to order offline. However, the phone started to ring.

Rody answered, "Hello?"

"Rody?" The deep voice on the other sighed asked.

"A-Ah, Vince!" The redhead cleared his throat, smiling, "Hi! What's up?"

"Are you free tonight?" Vincent asked.

"Huh?" He blushed.

"I'm hosting a dinner party at my apartment and was checking if you're available."

Oh, that's what you meant. Rody thought, frowning a bit, "Yes, I am..."

"Good. Be here in the next few minutes. Oh, and, I..." Vincent trailed off.

"Vince?"

"I apologize."

"For what?"

"I... I disappeared before you came into the kitchen and I wasn't able to give you a plate of food. I apologize."

Rody smiled, He remembered? "It's fine Vince-"

"No, it isn't. I... I like cooking for you."

The redhead blushed, "...Well, I like eating your food."

"Good, you'll have plenty of it tonight."

Vincent hung up and Rody chuckled. He put the phone down changing to a more casual outfit before going back to the restaurant. Vincent was waiting outside, the chef holding out his hand to the redhead. Rody was confused and placed his hand on the Chef's. The man gently intertwined their fingers and led Rody inside the restaurant. The redhead blushed as he was pulled along up the stairs and to Vincent's home.

"Wow, this place looks..." Rody took everything in, from the bright red couches and loveseats, to the triangle coffee table, to the cow hide rug they stood on. He smiled awkwardly, "No offense, but stick to being a chef."

"Excuse me?"

"Wait, I thought you said this was a dinner party?" Rody changed the subject, "Where are the other people?"

"They will arrive shortly. I-" Vincent looked away, "-wanted you to get here first..."

Rody blushed. Vincent led him to the couch and had him sit before leaving to the kitchen to grab some plates. When the Chef returned, he was balancing three plates; a plate of escargots, a cheese plater, and deviled eggs. Rody smiled brightly and happily took a couple of eggs and a bit of cheese, smiling brightly as he ate. Vincent smiled softly as he watched other.

"Your food is so good!" Rody smiled brightly, "I could eat it forever!"

Vincent smiled, "I'm glad."

Before they could continue, the doorbell rang. Vincent sighed before he stood up, going to the door. He allowed the people in, Rody watching as the people came in. He stood up, the people coming in and beginning to mingle. The redhead, feeling nervous and out of place, moved to stand in the corner as Vincent left to get some wine and champagne for everyone. The redhead stood to the corner, looking over the rewards Vincent had gotten.

"Is that-? Hey, Rody!"

The redhead turned around. A tan man with dark brown hair walked over, smiling brightly.

"Uh...?"

"It's me, Richard!"

Rody stared.

"From econ? College? You were majoring in hospitality, right?" The man offered.

"Oh, y-yeah, hey!" Rody exclaimed, "S-Sorry, college is kinda... fuzzy, I guess?"

"I stopped seeing you after awhile, did you switch majors?"

Rody stiffened a bit, before smiled awkwardly, "You must be thinking of someone else."

"Huh? No, it was definitely-"

"Not me. You're thinking of someone else."

"I could have sworn-"

"You're thinking of someone else." Rody hissed before stepping away, "I need to piss."

"Huh, wait, Rody-"

The redhead pushed passed the man, going into the kitchen. He went into the kitchen and then into the connecting hallway, walking down it. He pushed the door open and walked inside, closing it behind him. He leaned his back against it, sighing and shaking a bit. Rody took a deep breath and looked up before gasping.

"O-Oh, crap, this is not- wait..." Rody blinked, staring at the scene in front of him, "...This is Vincent's room... I wonder if I can find anything interesting!" He giggled.

The redhead looked around the room. At the back corner, there was a desk with some paperwork. It looked like it was for the restaurant, but the handwriting was barely eligible. He hummed before he looked at the typewriter, seeing Vincent must've been typing out recipes. The shelf beside the desk was filled with books and the Chef's diploma was resting on the top. He walked towards the bedside table, opening the drawer.

A key? Oh, the freezer key! He thought, putting it in his pocket. He closed the drawer and turned towards the window.

"Looking for anything specific?"

[TW: Mature part here. Again, it's just grinding, but still, don't like, don't read.]

"AH!" Rody turned around, seeing Vincent, "Ah! Vincent, you scared me!"

"You didn't answer my question."

"I-I, um, was looking for the bathroom?" Rody smiled awkwardly, shrugging.

"Uh huh?" Vincent stepped closer, Rody stepping towards the window, "And when you realized this wasn't the bathroom, you didn't leave?"

"Well..." He trailed off, "Would you believe me if I said I had short term memory loss and got distracted?"

"Not a chance." The Chef chuckled, now in front of him.

Rody smiled, one hand dancing on Vincent's shoulder, "Would you believe me if I said I just wanted to get to know you on a more personal level?"

"That's more believable. But I would think you're crazy." Vincent placed his hands on the redhead's hips.

"Didn't you already know that?" Rody teased, leaning towards him as his arms wrapped around Vincent's neck.

Vincent leaned forward, gently pressing his lips to the other's forehead, then his ears, then his neck, "Yes, but I don't believe I know the extent."

Rody shivered as the Chef kissed and sucked at his neck, "W-Want to find out? H-How crazy I am?"

"More than you know." Vincent pushed his leg between Rody's.

The redhead moaned as he leaned into him. He glanced out the window and widened his eyes. He gently pushed Vincent back.

"Is something the matter? Did I-"

"S-Someone's out there."

[End of Mature part.]

Vincent stared at the redhead for a moment before looking out the window. He narrowed his eyes and sighed, looking at Rody, who stared at the shadow of the figure, "...Why don't you go home?"

"Oh, uh- w-wait, what about the party?" Rody looked at the other.

"It's over. It was more of a work related party. Marketing and such. You just made it more bearable." Vincent offered his hand, "Come, I'll see you out."

Rody blinked before he smiled, nodding, "S-Sorry about f-freaking out."

"It's only natural. I'll deal with it." Vincent reassured.

They walked to the front door of the restaurant, where Vincent stopped. He shut the door behind him as the two men stared at each other. Rody hesitantly leaned forward, Vincent following his lead. It was a small kiss, nothing to major, but it made the redhead's heart burst into butterflies as they kissed. When they pulled back, Rody smiled brightly and blushed at the Chef, who smiled softly back.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Rody."

"See you tomorrow, Vince."

***

Rody came into work the next day, heart racing, a smile as bright as the sun resting on his face, butterflies fluttering in his stomach and chest. He set up the tables and did all the cleaning he needed to before going into the kitchen. He didn't see Vincent anywhere. He walked to the Chef's office and knocked, hearing no response. He was confused before remembering the freezer key in his pocket. He was curious as to what's in it...

He opened the freezer door and walked inside. Rody looked around it, seeing blood. It wasn't too abnormal, it was from the animal meat.

At least, that was the assumption.

Rody saw something sparkle. He turned his head to the meat grinder. He blinked, walking towards it and picking up a golden locket. He widened his eyes, opening it to see...

Him.

Him and her.

Him and Manon.

"What..."

THUNK!

***

Rody fluttered his eyes open, confused. He was bound in ropes, laying on the freezer floor. He blinked and looked around, not bothering to struggle. His lip quivered as he curled into a ball. The door opened and he looked towards it. He managed to sit up, glaring at the Chef.

"Get away from me, don't come any closer, you-"

"Stop, stop." Vincent cooed as he cleaned a sharp looking knife, "Calm down, you don't have to be doing any of that."

"WAS IT ALL A LIE?!"

The Chef widened his eyes, staring down at Rody.

"All that flirting?! All that bonding?! I-I actually thought y-you liked me..." The redhead's tears began to fall, despite how hard he tried not to, "Y-You played me! I-If you were just g-going to kill me to get to Manon, w-why didn't you just do it?!"

"What are you talking about, Rody?!" Vincent yelled, swinging his knife down, "I was never going to kill you to get to her! I told you before, I have no interest in women! What would be the point?!"

Rody blinked, "...T-Then... why do you have the locket?"

"I forgot to throw it away after I killed her. A simple mistake, honestly." 

The redhead blinked again, "So then... the blood? The meat?"

"Was from her. I was going to make you a dish and-"

"Is it done?"

Vincent widened his eyes, staring down at Rody. The redhead stared up at him, green eyes wide in wonder and awe.

"Vince, is it done?"

"...Pardon?"

"I wanna taste it, is it done?! Please tell me it's done! I want it!" Rody smiled brightly, crawling forward, "Please!"

"You... want to taste it...?"

"Of course!" The redhead giggled, leaning into the Chef's legs, "It's your food! You're gonna cook her so well! I-Is it going to be smoked?! Grilled?! Boiled?! What sides are you going to serve with her?! Are you going to serve all of her?! Oh my fucking god, Vince, you have to tell me!"

Vincent knelt down, cupping Rody's cheeks, smirking deviously, "Are you that desperate to eat her?"

"No, it's not about the fact that it's made from Manon!" Rody leaned into the Chef's hand, smile manic, "It's the fact it's your food. I don't care what you cook for me, you could server me horse dong and I'd still eat it!"

"I would never serve you that-"

"The point is-" Rody interrupted, leaning forward, brushing their noses against one another, "-I will eat anything you make me. I want it. So bad. Your cooking makes me feel so warm. It makes me feel so good. I want it so bad, I need it. I need your cooking more than I need to breathe, please-"

Vincent shut the other up with a kiss. Rody moaned into it, kissing back as the Chef cut the ropes around him. The redhead wrapped his arms around Vincent's neck, moving to sit in his lap as he deepened the kiss. Vincent held Rody's hips as they pulled away, the redhead smiling brightly down at the chef.

"How are you going to cook her?" Rody asked, giggling.

Vincent cupped his cheek, "Let me surprise you."

***

[TW: Cannibalism part here. You don't miss out on a lot if you don't want to read.]

Rody sat on the bed, swinging his legs as he hummed a tune to himself. He waited patiently (okay, not patiently, but he still waited!), barely able to control his excitement. The doorknob twisted and he smiled brightly as the Chef walked in, a plate in his hand.

"Is it done?!"

"I wouldn't have brought it up if it wasn't." Vincent chuckled at the redhead's eagerness. He offered the plate, "Dinner is served, Coal-Fired Heart."

Rody smiled brightly, accepting the plate. He took his fork and knife, cutting into the meat. Once he had a small piece, he put it on his tongue, chewing slowly, savoring the food.

"Well?" Vincent cupped his cheek, rubbing his thumb across it.

Rody smiled brightly, genuinely, lovingly, "Amazing as always, Vince."

Vincent smiled, "I will cook for you for the rest of our days." He kissed Rody's forehead.

"I'm holding you to that." Rody giggled, taking another bite.

#dead plate #rody lamoree #rody dead plate #vincent charbonneau #vincent dead plate #rody x vincent #cannibal #cannibalism #tw cannibalism #suggestive

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA if I bought my coworker a wedding present after he asked me not to?

I (25NB, coworker thinks 25F since I'm not out as trans at work both to protect my career and because the country I live in does not have a conception of "NB" or gender neutral pronoun in the language) work my coworker R (25-30M) as software developers. I am in a more senior position and actually hired R as a sub-mimum wage intern (in a country/system where this is normal because he is also attending university, I did not have control over salary), because in the interview although he did not know much about the work, he was eager to learn, and also he was a refugee fleeing religious persecution who had been waiting over 3 years in immigration detention for a chance to work, so I though damn this guy deserves a job ASAP. I don't regret it at all; he's incredibly hardworking and kind and I have been helping him learn the ropes so after 1 year he can get a more permanent position, at which point he will be in a very stable position with a much better salary.

I am earning a bit less than 3x his wage at the moment - I support my disabled trans wife so I don't have a huge disposable income - but I am comfortable due to a very modest lifestyle. He invited me to his wedding, which is a pretty big deal, since I think only 1 other person in the office was invited, and very kind since I am autistic, socially awkward, I speak the native language of this country quite poorly, we have only known each other in work, and I have never met his finacée.

I immediately thanked him and asked for a gift registry. He said no gift is necessary. I pressed, remembering how at my wedding the gifts really helped improve our quality of life, and remembering how when I was in his position with a work-study job, money was really tight (monthly income of €1k only). He's having a fairly big wedding which looks expensive, and he's had a hard life with needing to flee his country and requalify professionally because his degree wasn't valid here (and needing to spend years "rotting", as he put it, waiting for his asylum application to be accepted and legally forced not to study nor work during some of the peak years of his life), so I would really like to contribute. He insisted no present.

At this point I am thinking of giving him a few hundred euros in a card, but I am worried this would come across as condescending or violate his boundaries. Also, my wife has never met this guy and is probably not going to be thrilled with this decision (we can afford it... but we don't spend money recklessly at all and very carefully budget), so it would probably come out of a few months of my "personal spending" allocation which I usually spend on books and chocolate and stuff (we practice total economic equiality although I am the bread-winner). I still want to do it but I am very worried about seeming like some kind of gracious rich person (I'm not) throwing breadcrumbs or something, or hurting his pride(?). I don't understand a lot of social stuff so this feels like it could go wrong in ways I could not predict.

WIBTA if I gave him a gift? YTA = no gift, respect his choices; NTA = give him the gift

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

[swimmingismywholelife]

Goodbye Christmas

Summary: While everyone else is celebrating the holidays, you can't help but wonder if things could've ended differently if you had just taken a chance.

Warnings: SO MUCH ANGST, unrequited love, SUPER heartbroken reader

WC: 2.2K

A/N: 🎶On the fifth day of Ficmas my writer gave to me, unrequited love with Kai🎶 I actually love Kai and Sophia fuCK WHEN IS IT MY TURN

Link to the Song: Goodbye Christmas

"I'm falling, I'm falling down

Everyone's happy now, but I'm alone tonight

Don't let me, don't let me drown

It's too late to say I love you, babe, gooodbye."

~~~

"I'm so happy for you!" Lea squealed as she hung lights on the wall. "You and my brother were basically meant to be together!"

Sophia smiled brightly at her. "I'm so happy with him. Like I really can't believe how lucky I am to have him!"

"The two of you deserve each other," Lea replied. "You bring out the best in one another in a way I've only seen in true love."

"Oh stop," Sophia blushed. "Honestly, it's all thanks to Y/N here anyway. I owe you so much for bringing me to Kai. None of this would even be possible without you."

Now it was your turn to blush as you placed the mistletoe over the door. "I didn't even do anything dude. You guys hit it off all on your own."

"But it was you who introduced the two of us all those years ago!" Sophia protested. "Why do you think I asked you to be my maid of honor? Because you're the best friend ever who brought me so much love in so many different ways. And I love you!"

"I love you too, Soph," you said, tears forming in your eyes.

"GROUP HUG!" Lea shouted gleefully. She forcefully threw herself onto the two of you, squeezing you together.

"Oh God," you said as she squished you together, the three of you giggling together.

Sophia had been your best friend for as long as you could remember. You'd moved to Germany at a very young age into the house right next to hers. Your parents wanted to get to know some of the neighbors, bringing food to show a gesture of goodwill. You shyly complimented Sophia's hair, and she immediately declared you to be her best friend for life. And from that day forward, the two of you became inseparable.

You'd met Kai playing football. He just happened to be playing on the same field as you one day and was thoroughly impressed with your passion despite not wanting to go pro. Eventually, just playing on the field turned into hanging out all the time, leading you to become incredibly close. It was you who convinced him to join Leverkusen and showed him that playing seriously on a professional level was an option. And it was you who he often thanked in interviews for getting him to the level that he was playing at.

While Sophia was your girl best friend, Kai was on a different level. He understood you in ways that no one else could and despite his busy schedule, he was always there whenever you needed him to be. He often brought you food when you were studying, he held you when you cried, and he was always there to listen. He was kind, caring, ambitious, and he was one of the only people who you felt truly being comfortable around. He was everything you could've wanted and more.

You couldn't help but develop feelings for him as you grew into your teenage years. And as more time passed, the stronger your feelings became. You found yourself holding back the urge to hold his hand, to kiss him senseless, to be held in his arms even when you weren't crying. You sensed that maybe he felt it too when sometimes you found him looking at you when you weren't doing anything special, when his hugs lingered longer than usual, when he started bringing your favorite snacks everywhere you went. But you were too afraid to say something. And your friendship was too important for you to ruin. So you just kept quiet, keeping your feelings to yourself.

One day, you'd invited Sophia to watch one of Kai's football games. It was surprising they hadn't met each other considering how often you hung out with both of them separately. So you took matters into your own hands. You were so excited to finally introduce your two best friends to each other, knowing they'd get on well. 

You didn't anticipate how well they'd get on, clicking almost instantly. From the moment they locked eyes on one another, you knew something sparked between them whether they knew it themselves or not. They'd starting spending a lot of time together, more than you did with either of them. While they never neglected hanging out with you, you certainly noted that they talked about each other to you quite a lot. Maybe this was the time for you to be honest with the both of them.

But you were still too afraid. Every time you tried to confess, you found a way to change the subject and move on. You didn't wanna ruin anything. So you just kept the feelings to yourself.

You'd never forget the day when Sophia confessed her feelings for Kai.

"Hey Y/N, can I be honest about something?" she asked as you went out for coffee one day.

"Yeah, of course!" you said. "What's up?"

"So you know how Kai and I have been hanging out?" You nodded. "I think I like him, like a lot," she gushed. "We have so much in common! And he's charming, he's funny, and he's just so amazing!"

You could feel your hopes shatter into pieces.

"Oh really?" you asked weakly.

"I know it's kinda stupid of me to ask you, but do you think I have a chance?" she asked. "Do you think he likes me too?"

Your heart felt heavy. Your best friend liked him. Really liked him. And you knew that being honest with her about how you felt would cause a rift. Sophia meant the world to you, and you didn't want to put her in a position where she couldn't be happy with someone for the sake of your friendship. So you kept your feelings to yourself.

"Yeah, I think you do," you replied softly. "And I think you're gonna be great for each other."

The double whammy hit you a few weeks later when Kai also confessed how he felt about Sophia.

"Soooo, I wanna be honest with you about something," he said as he watched you juggle the ball.

"What, that your last game was shit?" you joked.

"Fuck you," he said. "But no, something more like serious I guess."

You kicked the ball up, catching it in your hands. "Alright. What's bothering you?"

He scratched the back of his head. "I don't want this to be weird because I know she's your best friend, but I've been hanging out with Sophia a lot." Your heart dropped for the second time in the span of a few weeks. "And I like her a lot. And if I'm being completely honest with you, I can see myself going really far with her. Like I could really fall in love with her if I let myself."

"That's great," you forced out. "I'm glad you have someone you feel that way about."

"I've been thinking about it a lot, and I think I'm gonna ask her out. But I know she's your friend and I wanted to know how you felt about it," he said.

"Kai-" You stopped yourself. This was your chance. This was it.

"I think you should go for it. You've got a pretty good chance with her," is all you said instead.

And a few weeks later, Kai took his shot.

When they announced their engagement to you, it didn't come as a surprise. After all, Sophia moved with him when he left for London. From the moment they were together, they were always in it for the long haul. You were excited for them of course, but you couldn't show either of them how much pain you were in at the thought of their marriage. Even when Sophia asked you to be her maid of honor, you couldn't tell her. You didn't tell anyone about your true feelings for Kai. You couldn't. You'd ruin the atmosphere and potentially even your friendship with everyone. You couldn't risk it.

So here you were, visiting her and Kai for a Christmas get together with some other friends and family. You and Lea had graciously "volunteered" to help Sophia set everything up. And by volunteered, it really meant Sophia didn't give you a choice. But her giddy attitude was too infectious, so you couldn't help but give into her.

The party, of course, went off without a hitch. It had to be with Sophia in charge. And you thoroughly enjoyed yourself a lot more than you'd initially thought. It was a lot of fun to meet some of Kai's teammates, both old and new. It helped get your mind off your broken heart.

At some point during the night as everyone prepped for midnight, you found yourself sat on one of the windowsills hugging your knees to your chest, staring at the snow gently falling to the ground. You leaned your head against the cold glass feeling the chill run through your body. You sighed wishing you could turn back the clock and took the chance to be honest with your friends.

"What are you doing here all alone?" you heard Kai ask from behind you.

"Just thinking," you said, not bothering to turn around.

"Anything you wanna talk about?"

'I'm in love with you, Kai. I have been since we were kids and it hurts so much watching you marry my best friend,' you thought to yourself.

"Not anything in particular," you'd responded instead. "Just enjoying the snowfall."

"Can I join you?" Kai asked. You nodded, hugging your knees closer to you.

A comfortable silence fell. Words never needed to be exchanged to feel safe with him.

"You know, I wanted to thank you," Kai started. "For bringing Sophia and I together. I know I talk all the time about how she's the best thing that's ever happened to me, but it's really all thanks to you that we're even here to begin with."

"Sophia said that to me earlier too," you said smiling softly, turning your head slightly to look at him. "There's no need to thank me really."

"It's funny," he said. "When I was younger, I always pictured myself with you actually."

Your heart stopped for a moment. "What?"

"Yeah," he chuckled. "I could've sworn I was in love with you for all of my teenage years, especially while I was at Leverkusen."

"Really?" you said weakly.

"It sounds crazy, I know, because you didn't feel the same way and I was too afraid to say something."

You couldn't have been more heartbroken. Kai had felt the same way. But you were too afraid to say something and kept the feelings to yourself. And now it was too late.

"I thought I knew what real love was, but then you brought me to Sophia," he said. "That's when I understood what it was really like. I just had a really strong crush on you, I guess."

"Oh," is all you said. You didn't know what to say.

"Yeah, I know it's a little strange to bring it up now, but I figured in the Christmas spirit with the new year approaching it was the best time," Kai replied, "since this is my last Christmas before marriage and all."

"Thank you for being honest with me," you said quietly. "I really appreciate it."

"This doesn't make anything weird or anything like that, does it?" he asked.

You forced a smile that you were hoping he couldn't see past. "No, of course not. That was years ago anyway. We're past that now right?"

Kai let out a sigh of relief. "Okay, good. I mean Sophia knows too. She actually was a bit hesitant when I first asked her out because she was convinced you were in love with me. Weird right?"

"Yeah, weird."

Another silence fell as you tried keeping your emotions in check. You couldn't break down in front of him. Not now.

The grandfather clock chimed, signaling that midnight had arrived.  You looked over at Kai, your heart completely shattered.

"IT'S CHRISTMAS! MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE!" you could hear Sophia screaming, making the two of you laugh.

"We better go before she starts yelling at us," Kai said, gesturing to get up.

"I'm gonna stay here a little longer, but I'll join you guys in a bit," you responded.

"Are you sure you don't wanna join the festivities?" he asked.

You nodded. "I'll be right there. Don't worry about me."

"I always worry about you, dummy. But I'll leave you to it," he said, patting your head. "Don't be too long though."

He stood up, gently dusting himself off. "Merry Christmas, Y/N. I'm so grateful to have you," he said.

"Merry Christmas, Kai," you said. "I'm grateful to have you too."

You watched longingly as Kai walked over to Sophia. The two of them had nothing but pure love as they looked in each other's eyes. He held out his hand for her to take, gently twirling her around before bringing her into a kiss under the mistletoe you'd placed earlier that day.

"I love you," you whispered, only allowing yourself to hear the words you so desperately wanted to say to him. And you kept the feelings to yourself and let the tears finally fall.

Taglist: @thoseboysinblue @neverinadream @chilwellspulisic @lovelynikol16 @lizzypotter14 @pulisicsgirl @notsoattractivearenti @shadowscorch @nyctophilic0vitnir

#kai havertz #kai havertz imagine #kai havertz au #kai havertz one shot #kai havertz fic #kai havertz x reader #footballer au #footballer one shot #footballer x reader #footballer fic #footballer imagine #swimmingismywholelife

[distantlaughter]

Formula BMW engineer in interview: What makes Nico Rosberg tick

By Christian Nimmervoll, originally written 27 June 2015 for motorsport-total.com (x)

Between VIVA and Keke: Peter Sieber worked with Nico Rosberg when he wasn't yet a Formula 1 star and remembers the 2002 season in Formula BMW.

Many people have the wrong impression of Nico Rosberg. He comes across as effeminate, pseudo-intellectual, aloof. But envy is something you have to fight for - and level only looks like arrogance from below (to quote some Facebook wisdom). In fact, the Wiesbaden native, who grew up as the son of Finnish Formula 1 champion Keke Rosberg and a German mother, is a well-bred, smart young man who speaks five languages, happens to be an excellent racer, and earns millions doing it.

What's still missing is the world championship title. With his victory at the Austrian Grand Prix last weekend, Rosberg proved that he shouldn't be written off even when his back is supposedly against the wall - there's life in the old dog yet. And in doing so, he gave himself an early birthday present: Today, June 27, the Mercedes driver turns 30 - and is presumably in the prime of his Formula 1 career.

Reason enough for us to talk to a man who not only knows the superstar Nico Rosberg, but also worked with the up-and-coming driver Nico Rosberg when he first came to Formula BMW from karting - and won it outright, as the very first champion of the then new series in 2002. Peter Sieber was hired as race engineer for the world champion's son - and taught him the basics of racing.

Getting to know about Arno Zensen

Question: "Mr. Sieber, how did you meet Keke and Nico Rosberg?"

Peter Sieber: "That went through Arno Zensen, now head of the Rosberg team in the DTM. Arno used to work for Walter Lechner, and we've known each other ever since. Franz Tost was also involved at the time, who is now the boss of Toro Rosso. At the time, they had a South African race engineer at Team Rosberg in Formula BMW who had to go back home. So they asked me if I would like to be Nico's race engineer."

Question: "Can you still remember the very first time you met Nico?"

Sieber: "I had seen him at tests before, when we hadn't worked together yet. My first impression was of a very likeable and well-mannered young guy. In all my years in motorsport, I've noticed one thing: Drivers who have what it takes, who have the potential to make it to the top, don't say anything loud, don't argue, but are professional even at a young age. That was the case with Nico from the very first moment."

"I was a bit scared with him: father Keke Rosberg, Formula 1 world champion, enough money. There are always these father-son stories when the father wants the career more than the son. But that wasn't the case. In terms of people skills, I learned a lot from Keke, namely from the way he dealt with his own son. Nico was always very interested, especially in technology. That's where he always wanted to know what was going on, everywhere."

Question: "They say that Nico was an intelligent student who, if racing hadn't worked out, would have studied aerodynamics or mechanical engineering. When they worked with him, he was still at school."

Sieber: "That's true. The others always said: 'Sure, that's Rosberg's boy, he can test the most and has the best material'. But in truth that wasn't quite the case, because dear Nico had just graduated from high school. So he skipped some tests, which I then had to drive with Kimmo Liimatainen, now team manager at the Rosberg team in the DTM. Because Nico didn't have time."

"Nico didn't have it easy. When he was good, everyone said, 'Sure, I can do it with these prerequisites. And when he wasn't good, they said: 'He's just Rosberg's son, he doesn't have his dad's talent. But Nico didn't want anything as a gift, he wanted to fight for everything. He worked his ass off to achieve that. I was captivated by him right from the start. I always tried to create the best conditions for him."

Spoiled millionaire's son my ass

Question: "Lewis Hamilton said in the 2014 World Championship battle that Nico has always been a spoiled millionaire's boy, while he himself had to work hard for everything. If I'm interpreting you correctly, you don't agree with that at all?"

Sieber: "No. Keke and Nico's mother, Sina, have a very special attitude; they're not aloof people. When we had stopped working together, and Nico later won his first Formula 3 race, Sina still came up to me afterwards and gave me a hug."

"I say to her, 'Sina, I had nothing to do with that, it was Erich.' Erich Baumgärtner, a friend of mine who was Nico's race engineer in Formula 3. But Sina to me: 'No, Peter, I mean it, because you did the dirty work.' That was a statement for me! The first year is always the most difficult - that's when you have to teach a driver style, technique, work ethic. It wasn't easy, but with Nico it was really fun."

Question: "What does learning style and technique mean? You're hardly going to have ridden in front of Nico like an instructor…"

Sieber: "A young driver makes his first statements at the beginning, and as a race engineer I have to filter out the most important ones right away. Many say eight to ten problems at once, from which I then filter out the main problem. Because when the main problem is solved, the smaller problems usually dissolve as well. Then I see on the data: 'You need to brake earlier, but come out of the curve with more momentum.' Those are the first fundamentals you work on with a young driver."

"A young driver can only tell you about the car if you explain to him beforehand what's important. Nico soaked it all up like a sponge, he fought every second. From home he had the opportunity to race, car, engine, team - others may not be able to afford that. But his driving skills and assertiveness, he fought hard for all of that. Whether it was dry or wet, he was always really good."

Like Father, Like Son

Question: "Nico's former kart team boss Dino Chiesa once said that Nico didn't get a PlayStation game from Keke that he really wanted, and that he also got relatively little pocket money. Which suggests that he felt relatively little of his family's wealth at the time, and was also just a young racer like any other."

Sieber: "I've known Keke for a long time. I can still remember that back then, as a junior driver, he always came to the race track with a trailer and bus. Keke learned to work his way up from the bottom. And he passed that on to Nico for his development."

"I remember the Formula BMW race at the Sachsenring. Officially, testing was banned, but others tested anyway. Our weekend went really poorly. The engineer was not good, the car was not good, the driver was not good. It was a pitch-black weekend, with spins and everything."

"Then Keke arrives, with a cigar in his mouth - and grins at me, who has such a blood pressure you can see my carotid artery: 'Peter, it's going to be all right.' And I: 'Were you in the wrong movie? What I saw was a disaster.' And Keke: 'What I saw is going to be fine.' Because you two are determined to make it together, and it's going to bear fruit.' At first I couldn't do anything with that, but then we improved from race to race."

"At the beginning, it was difficult to work together because I hadn't done all the official tests and first had to get to know the car and Nico. But then we worked our way up and became champions in the end. That season we had a test day at the Nürburgring before the race. I changed the gear ratio then, which is normally done by the mechanic. But there was no time for that because of the rain. And I mistakenly swapped fifth and sixth gear. In other words, where fifth gear should have been, sixth was - and vice versa."

"Nico drove out, came back to the pits very slowly and said with a smile on his face - with a smile, not kind of angry like others would be: 'Master, how do you actually count? One, two, three, four, five, six.' And I said to him: 'But you're doing your school-leaving exams right now, you'll manage that!' So he had to change gears stupidly, skip a gear with the clutch in the sequential gearbox, but he didn't care. The next morning I found a note on the transmission: 'Love from Nico, please put the gears in the right order!' That was Nico. That's the kind of person you live motorsport for."

Criticism always constructive

Question: "Were there also situations in which Nico could get loud?"

Sieber: "No, and that was the nice thing about working with him. If something wasn't okay, it was discussed, but not loudly or in an argument, but positively. He asked questions, contributed good ideas, and the collaboration got better and better. He worked hard for his success."

Question: "Nico already had the sponsor VIVA in 2002, in Formula BMW - and therefore had a lot of media presence earlier than other drivers. Was that an advantage or a disadvantage?"

Sieber: "People were already very attentive: son of Keke Rosberg, VIVA, very well-known among the youth. The hype was sometimes too much."

Question: "Girls, too?"

Sieber: "The girls raved about him anyway. But he didn't care. Nico did his stuff."

Question: "You can't tell me that Nico didn't have a girl at the start now and then…"

Sieber: "No, not at all, really! He wasn't the typical girl hero. Sometimes they are, and then they usually forget that racing should be the most important thing. That wasn't the case with Nico. He was focused and really never had a girl with him. It wasn't until the end of 2002 that I remember there being one - and I think that was his current wife Vivian."

Question: "In 2003, Nico met Lewis Hamilton again in Formula 3. Was it already foreseeable for you back then that this duel would continue into Formula 1?"

Sieber: "In Formula 3, Nico had a different race engineer, but that was a good acquaintance of mine, so I always knew what was going on with him. When we met at the race track, we always chatted. By the way, the contact hasn't completely broken off to this day."

"And yes, for me it was already foreseeable that this could go into Formula 1, because Nico simply has a very special way. He didn't have it as easy as Hamilton claims, as a spoiled boy who gets everything dumped in his lap. Our last race in Formula BMW in 2002 was at Hockenheim. Nico won, both races, in the rain and in the dry. Afterwards, there was the award ceremony for ADAC and BMW. Keke didn't go at all, but his mom, a few mechanics and I did."

Tears at Formula BMW victory ceremony 2002

"Nico had a knitted cap on, I remember it like yesterday. Then they called him up and said they had another 'little' present for him. I wonder what that will be? A Formula 1 test drive at Williams! That's when he really broke down, sat down, put his hands in front of his eyes and cried. He was so happy at that moment because he was so disciplined, he did without so much. That's very difficult for a young lad."

"And: He himself had done it - not because he was Keke Rosberg's son, but because he was the first Formula BMW champion. That's when I realized what racing meant to him. I still remember that day today as if it were yesterday - it has stuck in my heart. He said: 'It was always my dream to drive Formula 1 one day. That's what I've worked for.' That was an honest moment. As honest as Nico is."

Question: "Do you think it sometimes hurt Nico to be reduced to Keke Rosberg's son? Did that get to him?"

Sieber: "I think it was close to him. As I said before, if he was good, then it was the good material, but if not, then he's just Rosberg's son, but not as good as Keke. But Keke always stood behind him and told him: 'Nico, you have the greatest job in the world, you are a racing driver. People are all coming here to see your race. Enjoy it and have fun.'"

"And so he took all the pressure off the kid. That was awesome. That was Keke. People were brutal to Nico sometimes. When all he ever wanted was for them to just respect that he was doing his job, that he was doing everything he could to get into Formula One, and that he had talent. The Rosberg name was very positive for Nico, but on the other hand it didn't make it easy for him either.

Question: "It doesn't sound like Keke interfered much with Nico.

Sieber: "No. He left us alone. If he saw something that the competition was doing, for example, he told me, but without interfering. He would say, 'You can worry about that.' That was it, but then he was gone again."

Always looked up to father Keke

Question: "Nico's former karting team boss Dino Chiesa says that it was always important for Nico to once be as good as or better than Keke. Is that true in your opinion?"

Sieber: "He always looked up to his father, because Keke achieved a lot and was a driving force for Nico. But Nico was self-motivated enough to go this way and achieve something himself. He was looking in the right direction, he fought for it. Nico was an intelligent young man for his age. Of course, he sometimes took his cue from his father."

Question: "Were there ever moments when Nico cried to you about Keke?"

Sieber: "No, never. I admire the way Keke handled his boy. Keke always managed to motivate us all. In a positive sense, he was a gangster! It's okay to write that, I mean it in a positive way. Once he came to see me at the Nürburgring, Formula 1 weekend, and Nico had finished third in Formula BMW on Saturday. The conditions were difficult, race started in the rain, then it dried up."

"Keke comes up to me afterwards and is really happy about third place, but in the same breath says, 'We're not good enough, the others are better!' Inside I was boiling. That's when he lit a spark in me, so that even in the hotel I was still thinking about the car. And then we won on Sunday. Grins Keke: 'Oh, did it work?' Motivating his people, Keke always understood that."

Question: "Mr. Sieber, is there anything else you would like to add?"

Sieber: "Yes, two things. First, my son has a problem with his spine. I told Nico about it once in passing, and he said to me, 'Hey, my physio Daniel, he also had a back operation. I'll put you in touch with him, I'm sure he can recommend a good specialist. And that's what he did. He wouldn't have to do something like that - others don't."

"And another story: For the 2002 championship title, he got the Formula 1 test that Keke and Nico wanted to take me to. Unfortunately, my son was ill and I had to stay at home with a heavy heart. So they sent me a video after the test and talked to me live on the phone during the test. And Nico gave me his helmet, with which he became Formula BMW champion and tested Formula 1 for the first time, as a small consolation. That's just the way Nico is.

Question: "Will you wish him a happy 30th birthday?"

Sieber: "Yes, for sure. I'll think of something! We still see each other from time to time. Last year, for example, he invited me to the German Grand Prix."

#nico rosberg #nicology #i cant believe i never posted this

[blueberrypancakesworld]

A obsessed Elijah Kamski

°His obsession would go further than just stalking. To be more precise, he doesn't even see it as such. He's practically the creator of a new species, a race. The androids. So it's only fair to take what's rightfully his, isn't it?

°Ever since he saw her at a press conference, the young reporter sitting across from him and asking him predetermined questions, he knew he wanted her. The people he had previously disliked, imperfect, not pretty and powerful enough all seemed to be gone in one fell stroke. She was different. She seemed to have been created by him. She seemed to be completely perfect. Ever since that meeting, he had known this in his inner self, where he had already cast off all his moral preconceptions.

°He himself was more God than anything else. ,,I'm glad to see you again," he had said to her as he saw her give him a shy smile. Courtesy with a mix of charm. He knew she had feelings for him, he just knew it. And when he went home, ignoring Chloe for the first time, almost considering her less than perfect, he knew he needed a replacement.

°His Chloe, who had previously been the image of everything he needed, was now nothing more than an android. She wasn't the model he wanted. ,,Get me any information about this woman and tell her I want to invite her for a private interview," he had told the machine, pointing to the name of the newspaper that had written the article.

°What was once a request had now become an order, his order. An order that brought him to his desk and the new project began. The new design of his latest creation, for what god could simply take someone immediately. A human had to be conquered. ,,Feelings and consciousness," he murmured, looking at the exoskeleton of the machine, knowing it wasn't flesh and blood. Knew that it was not her and yet he would have her. If not willingly then he would lie to himself until he believed it was really her.

°And he knew he had her when she stood in front of his door. The white blouse underneath her bra was a mix of professional and yet provocative for him. Her lips were a light shade of pink and her perfume was sweet. ,,Perfection I see...I'm glad you could come," he said, ushering her in, closing the door behind her and knowing she was his when the lock clicked.

°His hand settled on her shoulder, squeezing her gently as he led her into the living room. ,,A glass of wine?" he asked, seeing her hesitant nod and knowing that inside she was standing between her job and him. But when he sat down opposite her, his eyes on her with pleasure as she sipped her wine and her eyes met his, watching her reaction, it was more knowledge he had than in years of research.

°She began to ask him questions, he answered them just waiting to strike. She snatched the words from him and began to question him about the cameras she had never seen. She didn't realize how his wine glass always stayed the same, she drank more out of nervousness of her humanity. To get rid of this feeling and play into his hands. ,,Excuse me... Mr. Kamski, may I just-" she began, holding a hand over her mouth.

°,,Sedatives and emotions don't mix well, do they?" he asked, reaching for his screen and typing in her reaction, watching as she rose from her chair, struggling to keep her balance. But her attempt was miserably thwarted when her legs lost feeling. She fell to the ground with a surprised sound. He walked to her, she watched his new model, his perfection. ,,Tell me, what do you feel, dear?" he asked, kneeling in front of her, his cool hand on her jaw. Forced her to look at him. Saw her fear, her confusion. What would her other emotions look like then?

°With a disappointed sigh, she lost consciousness and lay on the floor before Chloe picked her up and carried her after him towards her new room. A room to study and watch to live in and make perfect. ,,All you have to do is learn," he murmured and pushed up his glasses, which were slightly out of place. He put his hand on her cheek, paused for a moment and looked at the machine in the corner. All he needed was the outside and he would have her for eternity. ,,And then you'll be mine...forever," he said, giving her a gentle kiss before pulling away from her for now. He closed the door behind him and just waited for his darling to wake up. There was still a lot to do to make her complete.

°To make her feelings perfect, her outside, her inside and her whole being his. Right down to her soul, she would be his.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Info : This was more of a short thing I had in mind but here you go I wanted the god complex part in hir character to shine ;)

Maybe you like it ? -> @thatsthewrongwallcraig

#detroid become human #dbh #dbh elijah kamski #detroid become human elijah #elijah kamski #elijah kamski x reader

[starcrossedxwriter]

Built for Love Part 7 (MBJ x Famous Black OC)

A/N: no warnings… just lots of cuteness, fluff and a side of smut :)

“So Charlotte, this is your first major film and you got to work alongside veterans in the industry like Michael,” the interviewer, Janelle, gestured toward Michael, who sat next to Charlotte, “And Sylvester Stallone. What was that like for you?” 

Charlotte immediately threw a glance and sweet smile toward Michael. “Oh it was so much fun. Really like showing up to a master class in acting every single day. I loved every minute of it. You know they were both so welcoming and warm and really made the set fun but also were more than happy to show me the ropes and give me a boost when I needed it. And this one,” she rubbed Michael’s knee, her smile growing from a professional small one to the bright wide smile he adored, the one that brightened every single day he was with her, causing his lips to curl into one as well. Her hand remained perched right above his knee, resting lazily as she continued speaking. “He really has a way about him that makes you feel so at ease and comfortable on set and in his presence in general. And he just went above and beyond to be an amazing and supportive scene partner. So it was great, I learned a lot from them.”

“And Michael, how was it working with Charlotte?” 

Michael’s hand went to rest on hers, squeezing it lightly as he showered well deserved praise on the love of his life. “I would echo what she said. But I think we all learned a lot more from her than she did from us. I mean I know she’s gonna have a long and successful career and anyone who gets to work with her will be extremely lucky. Because her process is just crazy and makes mine look like child’s play.”

Charlotte rolled her eyes with a smile. If she could’ve, she would’ve blushed. Though a Michael could see her skin flush red with embarrassment at his showering of kind words. “He’s exaggerating.” 

“Nahhh I’m not. I think bringing her experience from the theater, which I don’t have, really was, you know, interesting to see. Not only is she just a fun person to have on set, but she really is a student of this craft and you can see it in how she moves around the set. And not just of the script or source material, but of the other actors as well. You know I’d be doing a scene and she’d be on the side just watching, studying us. And she really gets to know you, your quirks, your tells, and she’s able to respond to them in the moment. If I wanted to go somewhere left field, I just did and she would be right there with me, no hesitation or anything. And I really only see that in people like Sly who’ve been doing this for decades and decades. For someone our age, it’s just talent and art I’ve never seen before. She’s just one of a kind.” 

He eyed her and the way she intently studied the black fabric of her dress, the way both of her cheeks flushed red with humility and embarrassment, how she chewed on her bottom lip to keep from grimacing at the praise, praise she did not hear enough and was not used to in his opinion.

 “And she’s crazy humble so I know she hates everything I just said,” he chuckled, elbowing her gently. 

Sure enough, one hand covered her face with embarrassment, Michael squeezing the other before turning his attention back to the interviewer. 

Though they had agreed not to tell people they were dating yet, the pair found the casting of “platonic co-stars” to be their most difficult roles yet. The subtle touches that passed between them were as thoughtless as breathing, second nature that they could not turn off and did not often realize what was happening until skin was against skin. Charlotte was hyper aware of every touch, every stroke of his fingertips that left a trail of heat painting the path he trekked. It was not always a sexual heat, sometimes it was more of a comforting warmth like a sip of hot cocoa in the winter, a warmth that lingers and makes you want ease into it. She craved that type of touch above all because she saw the intention behind them, nonverbal reminders that he was near, that his touch would always be gentle and safe, and that her guards could crumble. And many times, his touch set her body ablaze, leaving an inferno of desire and need etched into every inch of her skin. And those were the touches that she fought to resist, fought to remember the role she was meant to play. After all, platonic co-stars do not study each other as if they are waiting for the first private moment to rip each other’s clothes off. 

“I love how you both talk about each other and your work ethic. I think that is really great to see. So we are gonna play a quick game. To see how in tune you are with your characters. ” The interviewer reached into her bag and pulled out two paddles with their characters’ names on either side. “I’m gonna read the statement and you tell me who is more likely to do that thing or who would be better at whatever it is, Bianca or Adonis.” 

“Sounds easy enough.” 

“Ok so who would plan the better date? Bianca or Adonis?” 

Both of them raised the side that said Adonis. They glanced down at each other’s answer before nodding. 

“Yea I think Donnie is a bit more of a romantic than Bianca,” Charlotte supplied. 

“Yea but I think Bianca would show Donnie a better night out. He doesn’t get out much and being a singer, she probably knows all the local spots.” 

“Who are you most likely to call in an emergency?” 

Charlotte raised the paddle with her own character’s name, immediately busting out into laughter as she saw Michael raise Donnie’s. 

“Absolutely not! Just like I wouldn’t call you in an emergency,” she laughed, gesturing at Michael. 

“What?? I’m great in an emergency!” He immediately defended himself though his tone was playful because he knew she was right. 

“Maybe if the emergency happened like right in front of you. Like you know, if someone gets hurt or something like that, you have a great… super comforting and calming presence. But he literally doesn’t really answer his phone. So if someone were injured, they’d call him 8 times, go to the hospital, be totally healed, and two months later, he’d be like ‘aye what happened that time you called me?’” Her voice dropped down a bit to an unexpected but excellent impression of him that caused his body to double over in laughter, leaning into hers as they both laughed for several minutes before they calmed down enough to continue the interview, Charlotte wiping literal tears from her eyes.  

“Y-yea I’m really bad at calling people back. I got like five people who I’ll call back immediately and that’s about it. But I think Donnie would be good in an emergency. He’s got these hands,” Michael threw up a couple playful jabs, Charlotte playfully dodging them. “He’d be good at whatever you threw at him.” 

“I still say Bianca,” she shrugged with a smile. “That’s my girl, I gotta stand by her. So let’s say they’re equal.” 

“Who’d win in a fight?” 

Both of them immediately picked Adonis. 

“Did you learn any boxing moves while you were on set, Charlotte?” Janelle asked, pausing the game briefly. 

“A couple actually. I was against learning for most of our time on set,” she admitted, not that the fighting and learning how to defend herself did not intrigue her. She just always talked herself out of it when Michael offered. “But this one,” she pointed at Michael,” is quite persuasive and a great teacher so he finally got me in the ring randomly one afternoon while we were waiting around during our last couple weeks.” 

“So if we put you both in the ring, who would win?” 

“Me,” she answered immediately as if the answer was obvious. 

“Only because I’d let her. But she would gloat about it like she earned it fair and square,” he teased. 

“Very true! He let me win a lot but I just took it to mean he recognized my superior skill as a boxer and knew he didn’t stand a chance? So it must be true.”

“Of course,” Janelle joked with them, their banter providing great content for her interview. “Ok back to the game, who has the better Spotify playlist?” 

Once again, their opinions were split, each choosing their own characters though she could tell Michael hesitated. 

“Oh come onnnn,” her fingers gripped his forearm, shaking him lightly. “Bianca, easy. Music’s her whole life and you know she knows about all the good artists before they’re popular.”  

“Touche. Alrightly,” he flipped his paddle to her character’s name, Charlotte offering him a sweet ‘thank you’ for recognizing her character’s superior talent. 

“Who is the better cook?” 

Both of them stared down at their paddles before glancing at each other and laughing. 

“Ok so funny enough, we had this conversation on set a-” 

“We don’t think it’s either of them. Bianca gives strong quick meals and take out energy,” Michael interjected. 

“And we think Adonis is a boring meal prep or take out type of guy. Chicken breasts, rice, rinse repeat. Maybe they’ll learn how to cook together?” She offered with a shrug. 

Michael let out a soft noise in the affirmative. 

“Ok and lastly, who would confess their feelings to the other first?”

They both held up Adonis. 

“I think that’s a really hard one though and could go either way. I think they both are terrible at letting people in,” Charlotte laughed. “But when it comes to love, Bianca might be a bit more guarded than Donnie whereas Donnie is more guarded about everything else like his past, his career, and all that. So I think when pushed for an answer, Donnie’s gonna cave a lot faster than Bianca.” 

“Agreed. I think feelings and vulnerability aren’t easy for either of them though, which you know brings some fun conflict to the movie and in their budding relationship.” 

“Amazing, well I want to thank you both. This was a lot of fun and I appreciate you taking the time to chat with me.” 

“Thank you!” 

“Appreciate you.” 

The interview left, both of them immediately sagging back in their seats for a brief moment as the room turned over for the next interviewer. 

Charlotte rolled her neck, massaging her shoulder, an action that was immediately noticed by Michael who moved her hand out of the way to give her a firmer touch. 

“You’re doing great, Els,” he offered quietly.

“You weren’t lying,” she whispered. 

“About?” 

“How tedious this is. J-just the same questions after the same questions after the most random games. And we have like 8 more of these. It’s not so bad with you but the ones by myself? Fucking torture.” She was thankful there was no camera watching as her eyes lulled closed and she savored the firm massaging Michael provided. She had to stifle a moan that almost escaped her lips, the noise pettering out into a strangled sigh, as his ministrations hit a tense spot on her shoulder.

He dipped his head to her ear farthest away from the folks around the room, his breath tickled her ear and sent electricity through her. 

“Easy, Els…” two short words in a deep breathy whisper that signaled he knew what that sound originally was, a whisper that made desire pool between her thighs. 

“I hate you,” she whispered back with a shake of her head. 

And as quickly as their hidden moment started, she felt his hands drop to his sides, her shoulders suddenly feeling cold and deprived without his touch. A new camera crew and interviewer started to stroll in, forcing her to roll her shoulder, fix her face, and ignore the ache that he caused and only he could remedy. 

This is gonna be a long day, she uttered silently as she plastered a fake smile on her face for the next interviewer. 

***

“Hey, I’m Michael B. Jordan.” 

“And I’m Charlotte Bennett and we are playing, ‘How Well Do You Know Your Co-star?’”

“You ready?” 

“Born ready,” she joked. “I feel like this game was kinda made for us?” The pair completely ignored the cameras as they started pulling questions out of a bowl, each taking turns answering questions about each other’s careers and lives. 

Truth be told, this game would be the easiest of their press tour game-style interviews. Buzzfeed did not know this, of course, but since the pair was dating, they knew almost everything there was to know about each other. 

“Ok, I’ll pull first.” Her manicured nail reached into the bowl, searching deep for a question. “Oh this is actually a hard one. Where did I get my middle name?” She waved the little piece of paper before glancing away from Michael and to the camera. “I feel like this question is super pointed,” she laughed. “Like someone at Buzzfeed clearly wants that story themselves.”  

Michael let out a laugh. “Come on Els,” he shook her knee as he emphasized her nickname. “You gotta give me a harder one than that.” 

“That is hard! We talked about it being a weird name because-” 

“It’s German but no one in your family is German,” he interjected. 

“Yes but I don’t think we ever discussed how they picked it.” 

“We didn’t but I still know the answer.” At her shocked expression, Michael could only smirk. Of course he knew the origins of his favorite nickname for her. What kind of boyfriend would he be if he didn’t? “Your mom was a European history professor and read it in a book about the history of art in Germany and fell in love with it. But your pops hated it because…” 

“He knew his daughter was a black woman.”

“Which is fair. So they made it your middle name, combined with your first name, which was your great grandmother’s name on your dad’s side.”

“Wow, that’s insane. I’ve literally never told you that story! Because I hate the name so much,” she eyed him suspiciously, desperate to know how he managed that. “How’d you find that out?” 

“I’d never reveal my sources,” he winked at her. 

However, the wink gave him away. She immediately rolled her eyes, “My brother?” 

“For sure.” 

“I don’t know if I really like how close y’all have gotten??” And it was true, since officially meeting Jackson, the two couples hung out quite a lot and Charlotte was shocked to find out that Michael and Jackson hung out on their own time. “Ok, if you got that one, then you’re gonna get every other one in this bowl. Your turn.” 

“How’d I get into acting?” 

“A talent agent saw you and your mom at an appointment and encouraged her to sign you up for modeling. And then you got into acting and became a superstar.” 

“Correct.” 

“What’s my biggest pet peeve?” 

“Tardiness,” he answered immediately. “Which means she hates Hollywood and me because I’m literally never on time.” 

“Also correct. This man is literally allergic to being on time. The only place he’s on time to is set and he rolls in like right at call time. Everything else?” She waved her hand dismissively. “You can forget about it.”

“She always got jokes. Alright. Oh this is hard. What was my first TV role?” 

“Oh… darn… I know this! Don’t tell me.” Her hand went to rest on his forearm, her fingers drawing lazy patterns as she racked her brain for her store of Michael B Jordan knowledge. “Ummm… ok. I have to do it based on the Wire. Sweet sweet Wallace, RIP by the way, was the first major TV role. But little known fact, you had a small role in one episode of the Sopranos like 2 or 3 years before the Wire. And then I think you did one more guest role on a show, maybe Cosby, before you landed the Wire.” 

“Ooooo baby girl!” They high fived, their hands staying together for a few moments while he spoke. “That’s really good! Everyone assumes it was the Wire, which she just watched like two years ago by the way, y’all.”

Charlotte gasped and threw one of her pieces of paper at him, which completely missed him much to his amusement before covering her face in embarrassment. 

“They are gonna drag me on Twitter all week. Can we edit that out??” She asked production behind the camera to which they laughed and shook their heads. 

“Ok in her defense, she is actually not a big tv watcher at all unlike me. But I don’t think I ever found out why?” 

“Ummm, I dunno. Just was always busy in the evenings, missed a lot of primetime tv so I just never really got into it. Since streaming’s picked up, I’ve found my way to all the cultural phenomenon shows I missed, like the Wire. I’d seen episodes randomly because my brothers watched it but I just binged like the entire show two years ago.” 

“Oh another one, I just put her on to Game of Thrones like last week,” he added with a teasing tone, not giving her a break. He never did.  

“You’re making it worseeeee,” she moaned. “Gotta stop telling the people the shows I just discovered. He loves embarrassing me and making fun of me, y’all. I’m pretty far on GoT though for us to have just started it. Just started season 3, which Michael is on pins and needles for me to get to some episode about a wedding?” Michael threw a knowing glance at the camera before turning back to her. “But yea not a big tv watcher. Alright, next one,” she desperately wanted to move the subject away from her lack of TV knowledge. “What is my favorite food?” 

“My bolognese.” 

She made the buzzing sound just to annoy him. “Wrong answer!” 

At his faux offended look, she stuck her tongue out at him like a child. “That’s what you get for trying to get my black card revoked by the entire internet.” 

“She does really love my Bolognese,” she mouthed ‘I do’ at the camera as he spoke. “But I think her actual favorite food is pizza, particularly meat lovers pizza.” 

“Yes. Anytime, anywhere. I’ll always choose pizza.” 

“What is my favorite sport to watch and which team?” 

“Easy! Basketball, the Lakers, you have courtside seats and have a Kobe jersey hanging in your house. Speaking of, you still owe me a game.” 

“Name the time and place, baby girl.”

“What’s my dream role?” 

“Elphaba from Wicked.” 

She could not help but offer him a soft small smile, their banter dying as she remembered the first night they went out in Philly and she told him that, the first time she had to contend with the fact that her feelings for him stretched far beyond co-stars. He had been so interested in her, her career and her dreams. She had just been talking, never expecting him to hold onto that information after so long.  

“I told you that like the first time we went out to dinner on set. How do you remember that?” 

He merely shrugged and threw her a sly smirk that sent shivers down her spine. “I remember everything you tell me.” 

His words were colored with love and adoration, she could hear it and feel it. For a moment, she could tell they both forgot the cameras were rolling and that there was a small audience as her heart swelled. 

He cleared his throat, breaking the trance as he remembered they were not alone, before grabbing another piece of paper. “Umm… ok, soft ball, when’s my birthday?” 

She made a face and noise that signaled this question was beneath her expert level of Michael knowledge.

“February 9, he’s an Aquarius. This is a good mix of easy and hard questions.” She reached into the bowl. “What’s my favorite song?”

“Ummm Sweet Love by Anita Baker. You listen to it at least once a day.” 

“Very good, Mr. Jordan.” 

“Sing a couple bars.” 

Charlotte immediately shook her head. “No, no, no, no. You aren’t gonna get me caught up on this one. No one, and I mean no one, can do it like THE Ms. Anita Baker. I wouldn’t dare try.” 

“She’s being hella modest. Come on… you sang it at karaoke that time in Philly and got a standing ovation. It was flawless. Sing just the chorus and I’ll make you the bolognese when we get back to LA.”

Charlotte knew she could not retort that he was going to do that regardless, which was true. A well placed kiss or two was going to get her that bolognese either way. So she groaned, knowing she could not say no as the folks behind the camera also encouraged her to sing. 

“He knows I’m a sucker for that meal. Ugh. Loves for me to be his personal jukebox.” 

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, knowing if she looked at him while she sang this particular song, she would give it all away. 

With all my heart, I love you, baby

Stay with me and you will see

My arms will hold you, baby

Never leave, 'cause I believe I'm in love

Michael’s face immediately lit up as her flawless and smooth voice filled his ears. He loved to hear her sing, her voice was mesmerizing, a siren that controlled the waters of his soul and put his entire being at ease every time he heard her voice. She sang to him sometimes while they laid in bed, this song and others, and he never grew tired of it and believed he never would. 

Sweet love

Hear me callin' out your name

I feel no shame

I'm in love, sweet love

Don't you ever go away

It'll always be this way

She offered him a smirk as the last note left her mouth, both of them remembering the last time she sang that to him, their bodies a tangled mess as they cuddled in his bed.

Her heart soared at the applause she could hear from behind the cameras from the Buzzfeed staff and their team. She did a mini bow before the pair continued to answer two more questions before they heard “cut.” 

Michael helped Charlotte get down from her seat, her skirt a bit too short for the high chairs they had put out for both of them. She could tell his hands fought the urge to find their way up that short skirt. Anytime a camera was not trained on him, she could feel his eyes on her, drinking in her toned thighs and ass. 

Through all the events and interviews of the day, she desired nothing more than to feel those calloused hands against her smooth exposed skin. But she knew she had to wait, as always. The facade slipped occasionally for both of them throughout the long days. However, they knew when they were finally allowed to be them, and when they did, they could not keep their hands off each other. 

***

“Fuck. J-Just like that, don’t stop, don’t stop,” Charlotte begged as she pressed her fingertips into the floor, Michael fucking her from behind as he kept her hinged at the waist. She was barely maintaining her balance on her feet, his hands digging into her hips were the only thing that kept her from toppling over. However, they both chased their release with desperation, desperation to be one again, to feel each other in the most intimate ways. 

She loved the feeling, the snap of his hips against her ass, the way he spanked her, causing her ass to ripple lightly. If someone had asked her years ago, she would have scoffed at the idea that she would enjoy that during sex but she did… with him. Because his touch was still him, still safe, gentle and cautious. He was rough, at times, during sex, and used a firm hand but his touch managed to still maintain the rounded edges of tenderness to them, the caution of someone who knew the limit and would never cross it for sport or even come close to it. So she trusted his touch, trusted his actions, which always ensured his dominance in the bedroom bent toward her pleasure first and foremost. 

“Keep your eyes on the mirror for me, baby,” he ordered, his words loving but his tone left no room for arguments. She lifted her head to the floor to the long mirror in the hotel room to watch him fuck her.

She had never really seen herself in the throes of passion, shocked at how wild and uninhibited she looked. It was a difficult task to keep her eyes where he wanted them though, each stroke made her eyes want to roll back into her head or fall closed, the pleasure otherworldly and intense.  

“You look so fuckin’ beautiful taking my dick, baby. You gonna cum for me?” 

Charlotte was a blubbering mess, her words shallow and broken into pieces by her moans and pants of pleasure. Meanwhile, he always appeared unruffled, complete sentences flowing without issue.

“Y-Yes,” she could feel it, the precious peak of her orgasm. When she finally revealed to Michael one night that he made her orgasm for the first time, he seemed to take it as his personal mission to ensure she never went without again. And she hadn’t. Every time he nestled himself between her thighs, every time he touched her, she reached her mountain top. Every single time. 

“Watch yourself cum, baby.” As the instructions left his mouth, he increased his speed, slamming his hips into her with the force and strength of a superhero. 

Michael loved to watch Charlotte come undone, savored the faces she made and the way she screamed his name as pleasure coursed through her. This mirror allowed him to enjoy his favorite position with the perfect view of her. 

As soon as her eyes connected with his, her body shook with the force and strength of her orgasm. Michael continued his relentless pace as she came, reaching his own peak as he felt her tighten around him. 

He gently helped her over to the bed, Charlotte collapsing there. He placed soft kisses on her back for a moment before going to grab a towel to clean them both up. 

She took a moment before pushing herself up onto her forearms, her eyes brimming with lust as they followed his naked body through his hotel room. 

“Don’t get any ideas,” he warned, his tone not conveying any real seriousness. “We gotta go to bed. Our flight back is early as hell tomorrow.” 

“Ugh fine. I know,” she pouted. They were on the first flight back to LA tomorrow for another long day of press before the premiere. “If we go another round, I’ll definitely just fall asleep in here.” Her face planted into the bed for a moment, Michael chuckling at her dramatic but adorable antics. 

“Would sleeping next to me be so bad?” He asked as he laid next to her on the bed, more sensual and soft kisses pressing against her back. 

She moaned, painfully pulling herself away from him and his touch. “Now who has all the bad ideas?” She asked as she rolled away from him to grab her clothes. “Sleeping next to you is my preferred spot. I sleep far better with you,” she added under her breath though Michael caught it and clocked it for later. “But we don’t want a guest or housekeeping or anyone seeing me traipse outta here like a one-night stand. Platonic co-stars, remember?”

Michael sighed and nodded. He had agreed to this course before they left for Philly to start press but he did not realize how difficult it would be or feel in practice. It was a mutual decision, neither of the actors in them ready to burst the sweet bubble that was their ultra private relationship just yet. However, the regular guy in him who was madly in love with his girlfriend wanted to shout it from the rooftops. He wanted to post photos of them on Instagram and talk freely about his girlfriend. As ridiculous and corny as his friends would call him for feeling that way. In every interview, he wanted to praise her performance, work ethic, talent, not just as her co-worker, but as the man lucky to be with her. But he also understood that going public meant subjecting Charlotte and himself to scrutiny they did not want or need. 

“I know, I know. Just you leaving after I nut makes me feel like we’re a booty call. I miss sleeping next to you. I miss touching on you all the time.” 

She smiled and stood between his knees as he sat up. 

“You still touch on me quite a lot, according to Twitter,” she laughed as they recalled an intervention style meeting their teams had with them the day before about the fascinating and hilarious Twitter discourse on whether their great chemistry in interviews was truly platonic.

So they had tried to keep their hands to themselves throughout that day. However, all that did was rack up the sexual tension between them to such heights, even his utterly platonic touches created flames across her skin. They barely made it through dinner two hours prior before they stumbled up to Michael’s room and fucked for hours. His entryway was a blur of discarded clothes that marked a trail to his bed. 

“And it ain’t enough.” 

She rolled her eyes and kissed his forehead before resuming her search for her panties. She let out a disgruntled huff of annoyance. 

“Seriously, though… maybe we should think about just announcing it ourselves and getting it over- UGH.” 

“What’s wrong?” 

“Can’t find my damn underwear.” At his snickers, she let out a pitiful moan. “Not funny, Bakari. Help me,” she pleaded with a dramatic whine that had him searching his bedroom. He had no idea where he threw them off, having likely tossed them somewhere when they left her body. “But yea, the team might have a point that we should just announce it. If we don’t, it’ll leak eventually. I feel like saying it how we want to matters. People seem to think they got us figured out anyway. And we aren’t doing a very good job of hiding certain feelings.” 

He nodded, unable to argue with her on that point as he handed her the rest of her outfit. She now had her bra, dress, jacket, spanx and still no underwear to be found. 

“What do you think?” 

He sighed. “I think I like living in our bubble, the quiet of it. But I also don’t like hiding who I love. I mean we can’ hide it forever and why should we? I mean think about how much more fun this tour would be if we weren’t worried about saying the wrong thing or keeping up some dumb ass facade. I want to enjoy this time with you as you, my girl. Not just my coworker.” 

She nodded, finally giving up her search with a defeated shrug. “You sure? You’re gonna break hearts all across the globe.” 

He shrugged, his arms stretching out as he yawned, so deep Charlotte felt the exhaustion settle in her own bones. It made her move a bit faster to get out of his hair so he can rest. 

“They’ll find a new sexier guy and their hearts will mend.” 

She slid on her shoes before walking up to him. Even in her heels she had to stretch a bit to reach his lips. She pressed her lips to his, biting his lower lip before backing away and walking toward the door. 

“There’s no one sexier, baby,” she offered with a wink. 

He smiled and grabbed her purse for her, a lacy piece of fabric falling off of the side as he moved it. 

“Ah. Think I found them. But I don’t think they’re wearable?” 

“What do you me-?” Her words stopped as he held them up, the beautiful black, delicate lace torn apart by the brute strength of a boxer. 

“Seriously dude??” Her annoyance was clear even as lust curled in her belly. She could not tell if she was upset he kept accidentally destroying her most delicate lace items or if she was so turned on by his soft but commanding strength that she wanted to strip down for round 5. “You and those damn muscles.” She held out her hand for the destroyed piece of clothing and tossed it into the trash. “Please skip arm day before you destroy any more of my clothes.”

“If I skip arm day, how else could I do this?” He hoisted her up in the air with ease like she weighed nothing, her legs automatically wrapping around his waist as he backed her into the wall. 

His firm grip on her bare ass beneath her dress made her moan as he buried his head into her neck and sucked on every inch of soft skin he could find. 

“T-touche,” she moaned. “A-and not fair.” However, he had her right where he wanted her, one rogue finger already able to feel the wetness pooling between her thighs. She moaned as that finger caressed her clit. She knew she was not making it to her hotel room anytime soon. 

“We can sleep on the plane,” he muttered as he felt himself growing hard again. Charlotte could do nothing but cling to his shoulders and cry out in utter bliss as he entered her in one swift motion, filling her to the brim, fucking her against the wall. This time, she could see their reflection in the window and he did not need to command her to watch as she took in his perfect back muscles as he thrust in and out of her. 

By the time they finished, Charlotte was resigned to falling asleep in Michael’s arms, wanting to get good rest in the arms of the man she loved more than caring whether a housekeeper or rogue person with a camera caught her leaving. She just planned to sneak off a bit early to her room so they did not leave together. She was thankful she had the foresight to pack that morning so she would have minimal things to deal with tomorrow. As she settled on his chest, she heard his voice break the silence around them.

“Be my date to the premiere.” 

Charlotte knew it was a question, even if he did not phrase it as one, and a return to their earlier conversation. She propped herself up to look him in the eyes. 

“You sure? Once we go down that road…” 

“Without a doubt. I don’t want to hide what we have. We ain’t gotta tell people everything but we also don’t gotta hide.” 

She smiled and kissed him before settling back on his chest. 

“Yes.” 

Though they could not see each other, both of them fell asleep with soft smiles on their faces. 

***

Michael’s hand grasped Charlotte’s, an effort to stop her fidgeting as their limo took them to the premiere.

“It’ll be fun, babe. Just some photos, a couple interviews and then we get to finally see the film.” He leaned over and pressed a soft kiss to her cheek, the uneasy waters in Charlotte’s body relaxing to a soft rapids. “Relax.” 

She nodded. “I know, I know.” 

He eyed her for a moment. “You know we can just walk as co-stars. We don’t have to announce it or do anything tonight if you aren’t ready for it. I know it’s an adjustment.” 

She shook her head immediately, sliding closer to him. “That’s not it at all. I want to be beside you tonight as your girlfriend. I just…” she shook her head before sliding back into her seat, her insecurities flaring. However, she stomped them back. She did not even want to give voice to them, they seemed so foolish. “Never mind.” 

“You know I hate when you do that,” he chuckled, his hand rubbing her thigh. “Tell me. No embarrassment and no judgment.” 

She leaned her head back, careful to not disturb her team’s hard work. 

“I’m just worried about what people will say… with me on your arm,” she muttered, her voice small. Michael picked up on the tone as if there was something wrong with her. 

“What’s wrong with you on my arm?” 

She let out a merciless chuckle as if the answer was obvious. “You’re practically every woman’s wet dream, Michael. A-and I’m just…” 

“Just what?” 

“Just… me. Nothing particularly special,” she muttered, the insecurities she still could not shake flowing from her. She knew he saw her differently, and loved him for it. But the rest of the world? No one knew how they would see her and that terrified her. 

“I think there are plenty of people who’d disagree with that. But trust me when I say that I don’t care what a single person out there thinks… All I care about is what you think, what you believe. And I want you to believe you deserve all of this. Not just me,” his finger tilted her chin to meet his eye. “But praise, attention, and this moment. This premiere is as much yours as it is mine. And one of the reasons we decided to go together was to celebrate us and how far we’ve come, personally and professionally since we met. So for tonight, don’t think about what anyone else thinks o-or any of the other shit. Think about what you know and what I know. And that’s that you are beautiful and talented and any guy would be lucky to have you on their arm.” He snickered. “But they can’t because I got you.”

His last statement made a small chuckle escape her lips. “You always know what to say… it’s as infuriating as it is charming, you know?” 

“Yea I know. Listen, I'm with you every step of the way, aight? Anytime you feel unsteady, just squeeze my hand and I’ll catch you.” 

“You always do.” 

And that’s exactly what she did. Her insecurities ebbed and flowed but there was one constant through it all: Michael. His hand only left hers one as they posed on the carpet. She felt that unsteadiness creep up on her once and she tested it, giving his hand a light squeeze as they posed. 

He did not miss a beat, immediately snagging her attention from the reporters. However, to her surprise, he did not say anything, he just leaned in and kissed her. A kiss that melted away all those insecurities, all her fear, and steadied her immediately. It was short and chaste but it was all she needed, her heart soothing again. 

The yells from the reporters increased and it caused a stir but Charlotte blocked it out. His words echoed through her head. This was their moment to spend how they wanted and she did not want to waste it being afraid that she was not enough. Michael thought she was and if that was enough for her, it would be for the rest of the world. 

By the time they returned to Michael’s house, Charlotte was on cloud 9. He worshiped her body as he always did, the perfect ending to a perfect night with him. It was all she thought about as she meandered in his kitchen at 3 am. 

Charlotte’s leg jingled as she made herself a cup of tea, nothing but the light above his counter guiding her as she moved around his kitchen like she had been there for years. She did not want to be disrespectful, after all, it was not her space. But Michael seemed happy to give her free range so she took it when needed. 

And tonight, her free range activity was breaking into his mom’s tea collection. He was upstairs, dead to the world asleep, but the beast of sleep was too elusive for Charlotte to capture. She always struggled with sleep, only routinely getting 5 hours on a good night, less when things were busy or she had a lot on her mind. It did not bother her much anymore, her body accustomed to functioning on the little sleep she was able to get. But since she spent so many nights at Michael’s, she found it harder and harder to hide her persistent sleep issues. She slept better here in his arms, which is why she chose to be there more than her own. But some nights, she found it nearly impossible to get any rest. And since she wasn’t at her own home, she had none of her gadgets and hobbies to distract her. All she had was a pen and notebook, which she would use to write songs quietly in the kitchen while she drank her tea to pass the time. 

Usually, her energy was pained, sleep evading her for negative reasons. But tonight, it just felt different. She was happy, genuinely happy. A song formed in her head and tried as she might to sleep without writing it, she could not. She had missed this feeling, the creative restless energy that kept you awake, not nightmares and trauma. She knew it was him, there was no other explanation. His love had awakened in her a new energy and lyrics flowed from her mind to the page as she sipped her tea in the dim light, no interest in returning to bed until this was done. 

She was only pulled out of her writing as her phone started to light up. 

“Now who could be texting me this late?” She muttered to herself, glancing to find her sister in law and brother texting in their group chat. Unsurprising, since they were likely dealing with their twin toddlers. 

She opened it, her eyes growing wide at the screenshot from Michael’s instagram. 

Jackson: Why didn’t you tell us y’all were premiering your relationship tonight too??? Had to find out on social like a commoner 

LoLo: he really thinks he’s part of your relationship

LoLo: congrats girl! Glad to see the premiere was a success in many ways

Charlotte giggled before she closed her messaging app and went to Instagram. She had her notifications turned off for it, never being a big social user herself anyway. However, that often meant she missed posts she was tagged in. 

She immediately went to her activity page and found a notification from Michael. 

The picture was of the pair kissing and holding hands on the red carpet earlier that night with the caption: 

Celebrating tonight with my leading lady on screen and off. Here’s to many more Creed premiere date nights in our future. 

She opened the comments to find a million versions of heart eye emojis, hearts, and excited “I knew it” comments from his followers. 

Her heart swelled as she examined their photo, reveled in how carefree and happy they both looked. 

“God I love him,” she whispered as she added a comment of her own. 

Another perfect date night with you with a few heart emojis and a kissing face. 

“I love you too.” 

Her tea cup clattered against the granite counter, the scalding liquid splashing out onto her hand and the counter as Michael’s voice interrupted her quiet musings. She turned to find him perched against the entryway to the kitchen. She supposed she should not have been shocked to find him in his own kitchen but she was surprised she did not hear him coming down the stairs. 

“Busted?” She drew her lip in between her teeth, a drop of guilt coloring her words. 

Michael chuckled and closed the distance between them. “You were busted a while ago, babe. My mom noticed the tea disappearing faster than usual and mentioned that there might be a night time tea thief lurking around. Figured I’d catch you one of these days.”

Charlotte smiled. “Sorry, I was gonna replace it.” 

He shook his head. “I don’t care about the tea. I already got her some more. I do care about why you’re up this early? We just went to bed at 1.” 

He sat down on the bar stool next to her. She held up her notebook, which she allowed to fall closed. 

“Had a song and couldn’t sleep till I wrote it down. Got distracted by someone’s very sweet instagram post.” 

“I was wondering when you were gonna see it. You weren’t lyin’ when you said you don’t use social like that.” He paused. “So you enjoyed tonight?” 

She nodded, “It was perfect. You’re perfect. And the movie was fantastic.” 

“I thought so too. So when do I get to hear this song that kept you away from my bed?” He dropped his lips to her shoulder, his breath causing goosebumps to form.

Her hand tightened around the book protectively. It was not ready for his ears, not yet anyway. “Soon. I promise, it’ll be worth the wait.” She grabbed her tea cup and took his hand. “I got most of it down, it's enough for tonight. Let’s go back to bed.” 

He nodded, leading her back to his bedroom so they could rest.

Tags: @certifiedlesbianbaddie @bangtanxmegan @reelwriter19 @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @hi888888sworld @msniaimani @destinio1 @lynaye1993 @chaoticevilbakugo @blackerthings @pipsqueak-98

***

A/N: The next chapter will have a bit of a time jump and we head to NYC where the drama is realllllllll lol just fair warning. Drop a comment and let me know what you thought! Hoped you enjoyed it :)

#black writers #michael b jordan #michael b jordan x oc #mbjordanedit #michael b jordan x reader #creed 3 #black panther #adonis creed #michael b jordan fanfic #creed iii #michael b jordan smut

[fear-of-flyers]

new perspective

tracklist

<<play last current song play next>>

featured lyric(s): "you and all of your new perspective now, wish i could shut it in a closet and drag you back down."

parental advisory: mentions of cheating

when you started dating jack in sophomore year there was no denying that he would end up playing professional hockey. and when you were just as serious halfway through senior year you decided you would follow him anywhere; and anywhere ended up being new jersey. jack was playing with the ndtp and you were at johns hopkins studying psychology but when he was drafted it was easy enough to transfer to rutgers. when you got there you were assigned a dorm but started helping ellen help jack look for an apartment. throughout the process jack insisted that you found something you liked too because he wanted you to move in with him. and despite constantly asking “are you sure?”, the two of you found a nice two bedroom apartment halfway between his practice facility and the prudential center but still close to campus for you.

and things were going well. jack was living his dream and you were on your way to living yours. classes were going well and you went to games whenever you could. you were there for his debut and went to dinner with ellen, jim and luke after. and you were there for his first goal in a game against the canucks of all teams. you went out for dinner with his family after that game as well, but dinner was a shorter affair because the team wanted to take jack out to celebrate. everyone understood though and it worked out because ellen and jim got time to themselves while you, quinn, and luke got ice cream at a place near your apartment. at the end of the night you sent them back to the hotel in an uber and welcomed a slightly intoxicated jack back home. “you know i love you right?” jack asked as you were shuttling him to the bathroom. “yeah jacky, i know.” you respond, giggling as he turns to hug you, making the entire process of getting ready for bed harder. “okay good.” he says “gotta make sure you still do after tonight.” hearing that you pause slightly, not having a clue what he was talking about. but you don’t think too into it, assuming he’s referring to being drunk and needy.

but everything comes to light a few weeks later. the devils are on the road in california and after a game against anaheim you keep the tv on in the background as you clean your apartment. jack had texted that he was giving an interview after the game and you wanted to hear it. the game had been good for him, an assist and a goal late in the third that led to a devils win. the interview started normally, he was congratulated on the game and asked about the team; but the question that stook out to you was when the interviewer asked what being in the league had been like so far. his answer? “it’s been really good, it’s like i have a whole new perspective on everything.” as far as you were aware jack’s outlook on life hadn’t changed all that much, but you pushed it aside thinking that if something was really important jack would tell you himself. 

you were mistaken though because the next morning you woke up to what felt like hundreds of texts from everyone you knew. the one that stood out the most though was from pk subban. he had almost adopted the two of you when jack started with the team and had been there for everything you might need. the text simply read “i’m so sorry. i promise we tried to stop him.” sitting up you rubbed your eyes, confused, and scroll through the rest of your messages. they all loosely said the same things and contained the same screenshots. one from nico “he was drunk but that doesn’t excuse it. i’m here if you need anything.” a couple from your friends back home “he was stupid for that, call us asap.” and a couple in the groupchat you had with all of the hughes brothers. luke had seen it first, in the background of someone’s since deleted instagram story and texted quinn to confirm before immediately texting you. the message was simple, a screenshot captioned “jack what the hell?” quinn had responded with something similar and texted you separately to let you know that he wouldn’t choose jack’s side (if that’s what it came to). and jack hadn’t said anything.

for a full day after he cheated jack had no communication with you. no “i’m sorry” or “it was a mistake” not even an “i don’t regret it.” just radio silence. finally, after his third west coast game, on his way to the plane back home he texted “can we talk when i get back?” sighing to yourself you liked the message and went about your day. you weren’t exactly looking forward to the conversation that would inevitably end in a breakup. you had talked to your friends and parents, and everyone said that ending the relationship would probably be for the best. so, taking that into account, while he was on his flight across the country you were packing all of your things into suitcases and storage bins to move into the dorms. your roommate was in a bunch of your classes and when you didn’t initially move in she let you know that the room was always there if you needed a break. 

when most of your stuff was moved you sat on the couch, waiting for jack’s return home. and finally, just past one, you heard his key in the door. you listened as he took his shoes off and placed his keys on the rack ellen made you get. you followed his path further into the apartment via the familiar sounds of his routines until he eventually appeared in front of you. you nodded your hello and motioned for jack to sit on the couch. “so…” he started, trailing off and fidgeting with his fingers. “so?” you prompted, adding “you cheated on me” when jack seemed at a loss for words. “i’m sorry.” jack finally says. “i was drunk and wasn’t thinking. i shouldn’t have.” you nod, expecting him to continue, to say anything that feels genuine but that never comes. “i think we should break up.” you say, not wanting to drag the conversation out any further. jack’s head shoots up to look at you, eyes wide in shock. “what?” he asks. “why?” you almost laugh, “what do you mean ‘why’ jack?” you ask. “you kissed someone else.” at that jack shakes his head “i was drunk y/n, it can’t be that big of a deal.” then you can’t even be bothered to hold back your laugh. “it’s a pretty big deal to me jack.” you say, not getting how he doesn’t understand. “what if i kissed someone else?” 

“that’s different” jack say and you snap. “how the fuck is it different jack? how is me kissing someone else different than you kissing someone else? why is it okay for you to cheat but i can’t even bring it up?” you ask, standing up. “is this what you meant in that interview? is this your new perspective? whatever jack. we’re over.” hearing that makes it real to jack, “what? no, come on, let me fix this.” he says, standing up to face you again. and looking into his eyes you see pieces of the man you fell in love with, but no matter how much you want to cave you know you can’t. “you can’t fix it jack.” you admit, sighing softly, “i wish i could shut this all in the hall closet and drag you back down with me but i can’t. you will always be my first everything jack and i wouldn’t trade it for the world. i think this is gonna be good for both of us, and it’s not like you’ll never see me again. we’ll figure it out eventually, we’ll just be apart while we do it.”

#jack hughes x reader #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes fic #jack hughes #new jersey devils imagine #new jersey devils #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #stick season special #my writing #fear of writing