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#or how it's going to be played with throughout the drama
astarlightmonbebe · 8 months
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episode 5 has left me considering the different - and similar - ways taeyoung and kwonsook think about themselves, and how they respond to pain/violence.
kwonsook calls herself a monster, someone who goes crazy in the boxing ring. that monster, she says, was created by her father, and her father used abuse, violence, and emotional manipulation to create that monster. he didn’t treat her like human, so it’s no surprise that the way she talks about herself when she boxes is as if she’s discussing an animal: she gets cornered, gets scared for her life, and lashes out to kill. she calls herself a monster with resignation; it’s not what she wanted to be, but she knows it’s what she was. she ran away to escape that monstrosity, to live as a human, doing good things, but that part of her never really died.
taeyoung, too, calls himself a monster. he’s a SOB, he does thing no one with an ounce of humanity would do. he seemingly has no qualms about what he does, perhaps because he can always justify it to himself, always has an exit prepared for when things really get bad (until, i’m sure, he doesn’t). like kwonsook, taeyoung accepts the label of monster, accepts his own inhumanity, even if they are inhuman in very different ways. whereas kwonsook wants to break away from that monstrous part of her - she’s only returned so she can free herself from that part of herself permanently (and if she finds a way to box without a monster, then...) - taeyoung embraces it. it’s through being a monster that he’s found success, how he secures futures for his athletes, and how he’s able to ‘solve’ their (and his) issues. monstrosity was not imposed on taeyoung, but (due to what we know so far) is something he chose for himself (although the factors surrounding this part of his past are decidedly murky).
in this episode, taeyoung and kwonsook also demonstrate similar responses to violence and (emotional) pain. when taeyoung upsets kwonsook by working with her father behind her back, he offers her an outlet for her anger by punching him. later on, after ahreum has already slapped kwonsook, instead of lashing out, kwonsook offers to let ahreum hit her again if it will make her feel better. in parallel responses, both ahreum and kwonsook debate taking that opportunity to hurt, but decide not to (kwonsook because she’s taking a chance on taeyoung, or moreso giving him another one, and ahreum because she decides that she doesn’t owe kwonsook that, that kwonsook is beneath her in terms of boxing, no longer on her level). 
kwonsook learned to respond to pain at a young age. in boxing, you can’t flinch from the hit - you have to learn how to take the pain, absorb it, and get back up to hit again. outside of the rink, kwonsook absorbs the pain, but she doesn’t hit again. she’s experienced firsthand what her hits can do to people, and that terrified her. after all, she only boxed so that she could protect her mother. so when confronted with violence and pain, she takes the hit, because pain is what she knows and understands. it’s the emotions behind it that are hard for her. pain is easy for kwonsook, because she’s used to living through it, surviving it; beneath it, she’s always empty. she’s never really cared about boxing; it was what she had to do. the lee kwonsook that was a boxing genius was a monster she ran from, after all. but in order to break away from that monster, she has to come to understand the emotional investment of her fellow female boxers. before, they were just her opponents, never her friends, but now she has to face their own feelings about the sport, the passion they have for boxing that she never felt. like ara said, she didn’t feel happiness about winning, and kwonsook has never lost, so she’s never had to live with that humiliation, either. how her feelings will change in relation to boxing will likely be a reckoning for her.
taeyoung, on the other hand, is confronting his fair share of non-boxing sanctioned boxing. even though kwonsook is the boxer, it’s taeyoung who’s been touched by ‘true’ violence in this present timeline. his life is quite literally on the line, which has been shown again and again. he’s been ambushed by her father, threatened, blackmailed, and beaten up by chairman nam’s guys. he lives on the edge, anxious at every shadow, which is chewing him alive. to him, kwonsook’s anger is much easier to deal with. he knows she might hurt him, but his potential to hurt her is so much more (and if he does, in that case he’d find her anger justified, and probably let her beat him to death or something if what we’ve seen of his feelings for her is an indication of anything), and she might hurt him, but she’d never hurt him as much as other people in his life at the moment would (i.e. by killing him, or hurting the people he cares about). taeyoung is used to weathering the storm of other people’s dislike; he’s the scumbag, and he does bad things, deserves other people’s anger when it’s directed at him. 
both taeyoung and kwonsook want to resolve things through violence. i think it’s telling that despite being two emotionally aware people, they both consider other people’s feelings to be so easily taken care of. they want the quick, instant pain, and then they want to get it over with. because the violence is what they’re used to, and to a degree it’s what they both think they deserve. however, what lies beneath that, what doesn’t go away with a single hit, is much harder for them to confront and understand. 
#star stumbles#my lovely boxer#kdrama#my thoughts#in boxing you get hit and you hit someone else and whoever is still standing wins#and it's basically that way in the whole world of (physical) sports#and it's going to be so so good when they both end up embroiled in the very emotional situation that they both want to avoid at all costs#ie their feelings for each other / betrayal / broken trust / fear#i think i ended this poorly i kind of got distracted and honestly...honestly i don't KNOW what their response to violence really says#or how it's going to be played with throughout the drama#this text is the bare bones of what i can understand through what i've seen#and oh yes even though i know some people might argue that they're not emotionally aware i think they are...#both very emotionally mature. despite their actions they both know what's up in their hearts#and they're very adept at reading one another (or at least taeyoung is towards kwonsook i think she's getting there but she's also trying to#distance herself from him so. i do think she's ignoring some of what she'll probably reinterpret later on#nobody made taeyoung a monster he chose that path vs kwonsook left the path as soon as she was able to#and her getting punished for his bad deeds...even though at the end she admits they're both scumbags for going through with this deal#because she's understood that she'll hurt boxing whether good things come out of it or not#because she'll be disrespecting ahreum and everyone else by rigging the match and losing on purpose#which will probably add to her conflict later on#and taeyoung simultaneously struggles with not wanting to string her along vs stringing her along#because he's been upfront with her about how he's a bad person and she sees it too but ALSO#he can't bring himself to tell her some of the worst things because he wants her to see him differently#like he wants to act like a good person for her but also knows he needs her#honestly their relationship dynamic reminds me so much of my liberation notes#it's the ahjussi / disenchanted two people approaching each other and something ending up growing there where they thought nothing would#again
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mariocki · 2 years
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Stone: And that was the start of all your success.
Dee: [smiling] Depends what you mean by success.
Stone: But you do very well - we see your name on television all the time.
Dee: Ah! That's success, is it?
-
Richard Harris, The Business of Murder (1981)
#100plays#the business of murder#richard harris#not that one#1981#theatre quotes#modern drama#modern theatre#crime drama#superficially Business is a straight crime drama in the populist mould‚ a kind of budget Sleuth with tv star casting#but there's a delightful bit of metatextuality going on too; Harris repeatedly sows in references to the writing of crime dramas#particularly for television. this was an area he'd been writing in for more than 20 years at this point‚ having plotted out crimes not#dissimilar to the central one in Business in episodes of the Edgar Wallace Mystery Theatre‚ contributing to shows like The Avengers#The Saint‚ No Hiding Place; he'd even been involved as a creator‚ having a founding hand in shows like Adam Adamant Lives! and Man in a#Suitcase. personally i have a pretty high regard for Harris' tv work (duh‚ it's 90% of what i post) and i think he was one of the strongest#of the freelance writers‚ but it's also very understandable how that kind of work at that kind of output (even for the genre and the era#Harris was remarkably prolific) can have a wearing effect. thus some aly digs throughout the play at the idea of tv crime shows and the#expectations they raise in an audience#Stone is a confessed viewer of tv crime dramas and makes several references to the 'way things are done' having apparently conflated#fiction with fact (much to the annoyance of genuine police officer Hallett); but then im true tv style there's a twist to the game and#perhaps Stone is only playing a part... fictions within fictions...
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sttoru · 3 months
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imagining TOJI as the type of man who swears that he doesn’t like those corny dramas you watch. . .
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you’re laying back on the couch whilst watching your favourite drama. it’s getting to the good part where the husband gets confronted for cheating on his wife. a satisfying revenge you’ve waited so long for.
and apparently one that toji has waited on too.
you didn’t even notice toji shuffling closer to the television, standing a few steps away from the screen. his strong arms are crossed over his chest and his eyes are glued to the scene unfolding in front of him.
you recall him telling you earlier that your show was ‘stupid’. he refused to watch it with you, telling you that he had other things to do. you shrugged it off. you’re used to toji not being much of a romantic guy anyway.
a satisfying slap echoes throughout the living room as the wife in the drama backhands her husband. toji chuckles lowly and shakes his head, “heh, bastard deserves more than that.”
you couldn’t focus on the television anymore and instead turn to watch toji’s entertaining reactions. it’s adorable to see how he’s enjoying the show more than you are. you don’t think he even knows you’re looking at him. he’s too absorbed by the show playing.
another slap. and another. seems like the female lead is going all out. her yelling is loud too. toji nods his head in content—the scarred corner of his lips curling up into a grin, “tha’s more like it. uh-huh.”
you giggle quietly and comment on the scene as well, “that was quite satisfying, right?”
“yeah, she should’ve kicked him in the balls thou—”toji subconsciously answers before he stops mid-sentence. he slowly turns his head and sees you staring at him with a big ass smile. that’s when he finally realises;
“oh.”
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bkgml · 1 month
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hihihi!
idk if ur requests are open but i got an idea :)
bakugou/reader where they are in a secret relationship and the bakusquad sees them cuddling or whatever when they think nobody's around. maybe make them act like they hate each other infront of others hehe.
thanks in advance :D
oh yes yes i’ve already done two secret relationship posts u can find them on my masterlist :)) but i like this idea a lot so new one! lol
“hey kats.” you smile, seeing your boyfriend walk into the common room.
“shhhhhh.” he groans, agitated.
“hey?-” you frown.
“yeah yeah i love you, whatever. have a fucking headache.” he grumbles, crawling over you on the couch to lay his head on your chest, nuzzling into your soft shirt.
you smile, raking your fingers through his hair in attempt to soothe his headache.
“how come?” you say softly.
he stays quiet, unable to pinpoint what exactly caused this nuisance.
“..denki.” he says plainly with a deep frown on his face.
you laugh, pressing a kiss to his forehead.
“you can’t just blame denki for all your inconveniences.” you say giggling.
he looks up at you with a pout and you peck his lips.
“yeah i can. he’s stupid.” he replies grumbling.
you squish his face in your hands and he sighs, eyes closing.
“that feels nice.” he mumbles, words distorted from his squashed lips.
“what?” you laugh, moving to release his face.
“hey. i said it feels nice. stay.” he grumbles, eyes closed.
you place your hands back on his face and he sighs, the pressure releasing the tension on his temples.
you place kisses all over his face, his squished cheeks, his pouted lips, his pretty lashes.
“can i just get you an advil? we can nap in my dorm?” you offer with a grin.
his eyes open slowly, annoyed with the harsh lights of the common room.
“are you gonna play with my hair?”
****************************************************
“i knew it!!” mina whisper shouts.
she feels a pinch to her arm.
“you didn’t know anything!” sero whisper shouts back.
“okay fine whatever, i didn’t. but this is INSANE.” mina yelps, eyes wide as saucers.
“i can’t believe he blamed me for his headache!” denki pouts.
kirishima rolls his eyes at his friend.
“why are you so quiet?” mina frowns, jabbing her finger in kirishimas chest.
kirishima freezes, attempting to stay cool.
“i just… wanna respect their privacy.” he defends.
mina grabs hold of sero and denkis shirts, tugging them close to her.
“he KNEW!!” she says, filled with anger.
she jumps up and down while shaking sero and denki furiously.
“dude! are you serious?!” denki asks.
kirishima crosses his arms over his chest.
“well… bakugou might’ve said a little something.” he smiles sheepishly.
“UGH. i hate you so much right now!”
the pair continues to argue as you and katsuki obliviously move around in the kitchen.
“they’re going to hear you, dipshits.” sero states plainly, already bored of this newfound information.
mina pouts, crossing her arms over her chest and kirishima goes silent.
“i want to get a closer look, see how fast they switch up when someone’s close.” denki smiles devilishly.
the three watch him go, wait till he’s out of earshot and then start dying of laughter.
“he is not smooth enough to pull that off.” sero grins.
“he’s going to get his ass kicked.”
****************************************************
katsuki watches boredly while you rustle through the medicine cabinet.
he groans, resting his forehead on the cool tile of the kitchen island.
“i know.. ‘m sorry kats. i can’t find the advil.” you frown, moving denkis flintstone gummy vitamins.
“i don’t need it, just need to sleep. come on.” he sighs, fisting at your shirt.
“hey guys! what’s going on here?” denki cheers as katsuki tears his hand off of you.
“hey denki.” you murmur, continuing to move throughout the shelf.
“do you know where the advil is?” you sigh, turning to denki.
denki frowns, upset at the lack of drama in this room.
“no idea… why do you need it?” he questions.
“bak- i… have a headache..” you murmur slowly, catching your almost mistake.
denkis brows pull together, glancing at bakugou still hunched over with his forehead on the counter.
“what’s wrong with you then?” denki asks with a smirk.
“shut the fuck up before i knock your lights out.” katsuki seethes, remaining in his weakened position.
you giggle as denkis eyes widen.
“wow kami, he means business.” you say grinning.
kaminari’s ears turn bright red from embarrassment, frustration bubbling up in his veins.
“oh shit denki… don’t say it.” mina mutters and kiri and sero understand exactly what she means.
the three of them watch as kami’s hands ball into fists and his brows pull together.
“temper tantrum.” sero sighs.
“yeah?! well i know you two are going at it!” denki screams at bakugou.
“kats-”
katsuki lunges forward, gripping denki by the front of his shirt.
“well shit. come on.” kiri says quickly, hitting sero.
you watch as katsuki’s arms are restrained by kirishima and sero wraps his arms around denkis middle, the two pulling them apart.
“we’re sorry!” kirishima groans from behind your boyfriend.
“it’s fine.” you mutter, knowing katsuki’s only mad because of his headache.
“it’s not fine! get off of me shit stain!” katsuki screams.
kirishima looks to you for reassurance. you nod, and kirishima releases him.
katsuki lunges forward once again and you grab him by the ear.
“ah ah ah.” katsuki halts while groaning in pain.
you sigh, giving straight mouthed looks to your friends.
“upstairs.” you say forcefully to katsuki, pinching his ear hard then releasing.
he groans, giving a look to denki before turning on his heel and stomping up the stairs.
“we’re sorry-”
“-we didn’t mean to-”
you hold your hands up in front of their faces, effectively silencing them.
“night.” you mutter, trudging up the stairs behind your boyfriend.
****************************************************
as soon as you are out of earshot the four of them erupt.
“DID YOU SEE HOW HE LISTENED TO HER?!”
“HES DOWN BADDDD!!”
****************************************************
“fucking denki.” katsuki groans.
“yeah yeah just get in bed you big baby.” you giggle softly and katsuki glares at you.
he climbs in bed, reaching his hand out to pull you in by your shirt.
“im coming relax.” you laugh.
he frowns deeply, folding his arms over his chest.
you smile, climbing into bed beside him.
staring into his eyes, you search for answers in his tired gaze.
“how’s your head?” you whisper, leaning forward and brushing his bangs back to reveal his cute forehead.
he frowns and lets a grown slip from his lips.
“they just had to pick today to find out, huh?” he mumbles, grabbing your hand.
you giggle softly, leaning your head against his shoulder.
“right, cause any other day you’d be soooo understanding?” you smirk up at him.
he scoffs, pushing your face away with his big hand.
“just wanted you all to myself…” he says under his breath, as if he didn’t even want you to hear him.
you feel your heart melt, shifting close to his face.
his breath hitches subtly as you turn your face to press open mouth kisses down his jaw.
he reaches for your thigh, pulling your leg over his hips.
you continue to kiss at his neck and jaw, placing a kiss to his adams’ apple as it bobs in his throat.
“you have me, okay?” you murmur against his skin.
he nods, arms wrapping around you in a bear hug.
“right.” you giggle.
“forgot its past your bedtime.”
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goldenhypen · 1 month
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. ⊹ just like this ˚ ͎ 。
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syn. taking care of jake when he gets sick, all because you refused to bring a jacket.
pair. jake x reader · wc. 1k · contains. fluff, catching a cold, mentions of food/drink
a/n. ^^ jake has the prettiest smile- nearly forgot this was just sitting in my drafts waiting to see the light of day- so now hopefully at least someone can enjoy it :’>
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“damn, as much as i love to kiss you, your lips are freezing,” jake explained after he pulled away with hints of worry in his voice. “oh my, your hands are cold too. i told you you should’ve brought a jacket. you’re freezing.”
it had only been a few seconds but somehow, your lips were already missing the warmth of his own on yours.
“n-no”—stupid stutter—you denied through chattering teeth as the rest of your body began to shiver.
“really,” he said in more of a challenging tone through a chuckle, rather than a question, as he perked up a brow.
he already shrugged off most of his own jacket before you could even think of protesting, and within approximately three seconds, his coat was already hung over your shoulders, sheltering you from the chilling breeze, immediately feeling warmth shoot throughout your body.
“better?” he smirked.
“yes,” you half-guiltily admitted. “you’re going to get sick though.”
the frown on your face didn’t leave even as his next words left his throat, “well, better me than you.”
“no, jake,” you said as your pout grew longer.
“you know why?”
“hm?”
he paused as a smirk travelled to his lips before answering, “because then i’ll get to have you as my caretaker.”
“pfft—please. no, you're not. i’m telling you to take your jacket back, but you’re not letting me give it back to you. so that would be your fault.”
“ouch, someone is really eager to not take care of their boyfriend. okay, i see how it is,” he said with a dramatic frown.
you looked at him as you shook your head and rolled your eyes, “jake, no, i—”
“it’s fine! still better me than you though,” he said —if it was even possible—with more drama in his tone than before as he began to walk away.
you ran to catch up with him and took his still warm hand in both of yours as you looked into his eyes, but being the petty boy he was, who liked playing these silly games, he only continued walking, gaze straight ahead, refusing to look in your direction.
the rest of your date went on, with him eventually forgetting how he had planned on staying dramatic for as long as he could, and he made sure his jacket wasn’t let off your shoulders until you both got home, an immediate rush of warm air filling your bodies. momentarily, you took in the relaxing sensation, closing your eyes.
“want some hot cocoa?” jake asked, whipping you back to reality.
you gave him a small smile, followed by a satisfied nod at the idea. you could already feel the hot beverage flowing down your throat, warming up your insides.
you followed jake to the kitchen. and that was when you heard a sneeze just a few feet ahead.
“jake…”
he cleared his throat. “what? it was just a sneeze.”
“if you’re sick—”
“i’m alright. don’t worry.”
sceptical, you nodded.
later as you two cuddled up on the couch under a fluffy blanket, hands wrapped around a nice cup of hot cocoa, jake furrowed his brows. “why is it so cold in here?”
you turned your head to face him with a questioning look. “i’m not cold.”
“it’s so cold.”
“jake, love, i think it’s just you.”
he shivered, putting his mug down before drowning himself under the covers. “cold.”
you hugged him under the ocean of blanket before he said, “i think i’ve got chills.”
you sighed sadly, “and who said they weren’t sick, hm?”
he huffed out a long puff of air from his cheeks. “i don’t feel good, y/n.”
you sighed again softly, feeling bad for the boy. “okay, stay here and rest. i’ll go make you some soup.”
you let go of his already weak and exhausted form before standing up, beginning to make your way toward the kitchen as you heard a “thanks, i love you!”
⎯ ❤︎ ⎯
“okay, i’m back with soup.” you placed it on the table in front of him. “it’s hot, be careful.”
“thanks, love.”
you watched as he took his first few spoonfuls, your hand reached behind his head as you ran it up and down his back soothingly.
after a moment of silence as he drank his soup, a sudden eruption of giggles filled the room.
“what’s wrong?” you asked, subconsciously beginning to laugh with him.
“i love being sick,�� he said, turning to you with a cheeky grin.
“i’m sorry, you what?” you laughed, imagining you must’ve heard it wrong.
“i like being sick.”
“what? why?” you asked at his ridiculous statement.
“because i always get to have you take care of me,” he smirked, not so cheeky this time but more happy than anything.
“i—” was all you managed to push out, speechless.
“told you you’d take care of me,” he then said proudly victorious, chin held high. “i know you well enough to know how down bad you are for me, y/n.”
you scoffed in disbelief, “oh, please. you are unbelievable.”
“i might be unbelievable, but i’m not wrong,” he continued playfully.
“okay, mr. smarty pants. you win. i do love you, and what about it?”
he giggled, coming closer and wrapping his arms around your waist, tucking his head into the crook of your neck.
no matter how long you two had been together, him doing this exact form of physical touch never failed to make everything in your body go weak, except your heart, its pace beating so fast, you were almost afraid it would leap out of your chest any minute.
“i love you more,” he breathed into your neck with a smile.
you wrapped your arms around him before starting, “okay, you big baby,” you tapped your hand in a repeating motion on his back, “i think you should get some sleep now. your body needs it.”
you felt as he nodded into your neck. “mhm. just like this.” he said, referring to the way you were tangled in each others arms, bodies sharing warmth, and breaths moving in sync. he closed his eyes. “this is exactly what i need to feel better.”
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a/n. ahhh yall pls lmk if you liked this cuz idk if it’s me just second guessing myself but im feeling quite unsure about this one 🫠 and as always, thanks for reading <33
m.list · taglist
taglist 1. @raimbows4u @sultrybaby @kpop-nct @ajayke-reads @wccycc @enhacolor @enhasfever @nokacchan @yizhoutv @xiaoderrrr @soobin-chois @tyunni @shinsou-rii @vickytodoroki @softkpopplace @belle643 @nar-nia @rapmonie2047 @sunjakes @w3bqrl @ethereal-engene @exohclipse @yeosayang @4ri-ki @aeriil11 @jaeyunjakesim @whoschr @enaus @hoes4hoseok @palajae @annoyingbitch83 @kpoprhia @rcrystallocks @stepout-09-15 @zeraaax @enhasengene @atrirose @pistachiophobia @svnoofy @sweetjaemss @vatterie @majesticallymark @mnsnts @en-chantedtomeetyou @yeseoist @milisabunny @wonniestars @kazmura @nicholasluvbot @haechansbbg
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lecsainz · 9 months
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main thing
request: charles + a famous actress who is about 2 years older than charles and has a daughter from another relationship, but the biological father is not in the picture (or he is an idiot)
pairings: charles leclerc x actress!reader
authors note: man, it took me almost two days to write this, ugh! hate getting that writer's block in the middle of something I start. I was like, "come on brain, why you gotta do me like that?" but nah, it wouldn't cooperate. so frustrating!
✩. . . masterlist !
PART TWO
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Age Gap Romance Takes a Dark Turn, Leaving Y/N Struggling with Broken Heart and Baby Daughter
By TMZ Entertainment News
Hollywood's buzzing with the latest shocking breakup, and this time it involves rising starlet Y/N Y/L/N and her much older ex-boyfriend, a prominent music mogul. As the dust settles, insiders reveal that the split was anything but amicable, leaving the 28-year-old actress devastated and facing heartache alone with their baby daughter, Sophie.
Sources close to the couple paint a picture of a once fairy-tale romance that crumbled under the weight of immense pressures and a significant age gap. Y/N and her ex, whose name we won't disclose for legal reasons, initially captured the public's attention with their whirlwind love affair.
Despite the initial bliss, the relationship quickly took a tumultuous turn, with the insider sharing, "It was a rollercoaster from the beginning. The age difference played a big role in their clashes, but Y/N was deeply in love and believed they could make it work."
However, cracks in their love story started to show, and rumors of disagreements and heated arguments circulated throughout Tinseltown. Our sources indicate that the final straw came when the music mogul reportedly abandoned Y/N and their infant daughter, Sophie, leaving her shattered and blindsided.
"It was like he flipped a switch," another insider revealed. "He just walked away, leaving Y/N and Sophie to pick up the pieces. It was a shock to everyone, even those closest to them."
The breakup was described as "dramatic and emotional," with Y/N left grappling with the aftermath of his sudden departure while caring for her baby daughter. Friends of the actress confirm that she's going through an incredibly tough time, trying to navigate single motherhood while nursing a broken heart.
"It's heartbreaking to see Y/N going through this," said one close friend. "She's a strong woman, but this has taken a toll on her. Sophie is her world, and she's solely focused on being the best mom she can be for her daughter."
As for the music mogul's actions, sources claim that he has shown little remorse for the way things ended. "He's been dismissive and unapologetic," one industry insider revealed. "It's like he's moved on without a second thought, leaving Y/N to pick up the pieces."
For now, Y/N is surrounding herself with a support system of friends and family, relying on their love and encouragement during this challenging time. Hollywood is buzzing with the news of the breakup, and fans around the world are sending messages of love and strength to the young actress.
As this Hollywood drama unfolds, the world will be watching to see how Y/N navigates her way through heartbreak and single motherhood. We'll continue to bring you the latest updates on this gripping story, so stay tuned for more.
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ynupdates
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liked by charlesleclerc , selenagomez , and 28.879 others
ynupdates sun, sand, and summer vibes with yourinstagram and the girls! beach day in monaco is lit! no room for negativity here – just good times, laughter, and making memories with our faves y/n and selenagomez! and of course, little sophie is the cutest beach babe ever!
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selenagomez ❤️❤️❤️
f1addiction CHARLES WHAT YOU DOING HERE??
ynmoves my girl looks so happy 😁
ylngomez i LOVE this friendship
lecslerccc charles that’s is a move?
saaaainz he just liked is nothing to worry 😭
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2K notes · View notes
jymwahuwu · 4 months
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imagine jing yuan hypnotized assistant!darling into believing that she should always go to work without panties... that it's perfectly fine for her to lift up her skirt and show him her fat pussy lips and her cute clitoris..... her job is to stand next to him or sit on his lap, looking all pretty while he playing with her wet folds, cockwarming him.....pumping her full of his seed..... until months llate, when he sees a tiny baby bump on her belly, jing yuan knows the hypnosis is no longer needed 🤤🤤
ignore this if it makes you uncomfortable! :D
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-CW: yandere, dub-con/non-con, hypnosis, forced pregnancy
🤤Hypnosis… To add to the drama, you, as the Assistant to the Seat of Divine Foresight, have the honor of working for General Jing Yuan. You never noticed someone's burning gaze on you as you sorted papers and typed, but you did notice the gentle touch of a hand on your waist.
You have rejected the general's confession more than once. Jing Yuan still maintains his tranquility, smiles calmly, crosses his arms and listens to your reasons ("Just want to work", "General, you are very nice but not suitable for me" and other reasons).
What you don't know is that the only reason Jing Yuan didn't put you on the table and penetrate you was - some fantasy about being a little assistant. Pulling down your underwear directly is, of course, fine and feasible, but… what if you pull down your underwear yourself? This conflicts with your will and reason. Jing Yuan knows. He was thinking of a way. At that time, Penacony's advertisement appeared in front of him. Penacony is a planet known throughout the universe for its reputation for vacations and festivals.
Some dormant memories were awakened. Jing Yuan remembers - there is a technology on that planet that is recognized as safe but dangerous. The danger is…the technique of hypnosis is no longer something that appears in dreams and dramas. This technique can hypnotize the other person into living a normal life, but impose certain "unusual" rules on them, confusing their perception of normality and abnormality.
What if…applied to you?
Alas, I was almost late. Luckily I remembered not wearing underwear. This is rude.
You patted your chest gently and breathed in oxygen, your legs going weak. [General Jing Yuan] smiled and ordered you, "It's time to check your clothing and appearance." "Y-yes, General."
Without any mental burden, you pulled up your plain, black work skirt for him to check. There is no covering, you are naked, and your pubic hair has even been shaved according to the "work instructions". "Um, good. Next." You used your hands to spread your slightly thick labia as usual, revealing the most private and charming view inside, which caused a rumble of laughter in someone's chest. "come over."
You complied, muttering about how today's daily check-up was completed so quickly. You usually have to show it for at least ten minutes… your butt is sitting on his lap, like an obedient and beautiful bird. And his fingertips stroked your wet flesh, rubbing and swirling the little pearl, leaving water stains on his fingertips. After [Jing Yuan] told you that your breasts were also on display, you unbuttoned your conservative shirt and took off your bra without any hesitation.
Of course, you haven't forgotten the important rules of reproduction! Don't forget to rock yourself as that cock spreads your tight, twitching vagina and spreads your thighs. Although occasionally pleasure controls your brain like an electric shock, and you can't help but be afraid of the possibility of pregnancy, you should not deliberately allow his seeds to flow. This is not only basic professional ethics, but also your commitment to [Jing Yuan].
After multiple reproductions, signs of pregnancy appear. Jing Yuan released the control of hypnosis, and you were shocked to discover the changes in your body and sobbed, but don't forget that you are his assistant and future wife 💖
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tenebrous-if · 1 month
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LINKS:
🜲 Play the Game
Estimated Release: N/A
🜲 FAQ
🜲 Pinterest
🜲 Character Descriptions
🜲 Family Descriptions
🜲 Map of Arvandor
🜲 Genre(s): Fantasy, Romance, Drama, Hurt/Comfort, and Action/Adventure.
🜲 Rating: Tenebrous is an 18+ Fantasy IF set within the mythical world of Arvandor.
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The Kingdom of Aetheria, within the world of Arvandor, is a nation ripe with history. King Lysander du Aetheria rose up and led the fledgling Aetherian Army against The Forsaken One— Herald of the Abyssal Uprising— and came out victorious when everyone else had failed. With his victory, Lysander placed Aetheria as one of the key pillars of keeping Arvandor safe; allowing for peace to reign over the continent for centuries.
Peace, however, was never meant to last.
The Order of Netheron, Followers of The Forsaken One, had captured you at the tender age of fifteen, holding you captive for a decade within a tower only labeled as “The Spire”. All due to their wish of resurrecting their fallen deity— something that they believe could only be accomplished by using the blood of King Lysander’s descendants; it was a ritual that didn’t go as planned— one that did bring back their deity, but only for your eyes and ears only; the both of you attached to the other in a way that probably wasn’t intended.
And that’s how you spent the last decade of your life… Growing used to the presence that now appears whenever the time calls for it. It isn’t until your twenty-fifth year that you’re finally found and taken back to Aetheria, to everything you had long thought you’d lost.
Your time in the sun, however, was short-lived as the tidings of an even darker uprising was beginning to grow— one that threatens to demolish everything and everyone.
Can you figure out how to save your home?
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🜲 Create your Aetherian Royal:
Name/Nickname
Gender [Male, Female, or Non-Binary]
Appearance
Hobbies
Personality [Mainly involving unique reactions to certain situations— the MC is semi-set in some ways]
🜲 Romance 1 of 4 potential love interests— each offering their own unique experience within the story and how the world at large will react to the burgeoning relationship.
🜲 Bond with your family after being apart for so long. They have missed you a great deal. [The MC is a middle child.]
🜲 Harness the magic that flows through your veins due to the gift of your blood.
🜲 Choose from a variety of skill sets that your MC may be able to acquire. [Note: This means you can choose something to specialize in, instead of having to constantly choose between being a diplomat or warrior. You can instead choose to be a swordsman while also focusing on the art of diplomacy.]
🜲 Build a codex from the various interactions that you can have throughout your story— from places, to people, to old legends that have tested the passage of time within Arvandor.
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Astorian/Astoria du Aerilon: The Heir to Aerilon, and the person that was your betrothed from the time you were seven until your disappearance. Astorian/Astoria spent every winter with you, and you every summer with them, in hopes that a union between the both of you would bring your countries together. You remember many things from that time of your life: their warm laugh, brazen attitude, arrogant smirk, and their inability to stay still for long. Meeting them again? It simply proves how much can change in a decade. [Can choose to have been in an almost relationship with them or still rivals.]
William/Wilhelmina du Arvandor: A recent addition to the Holy Order, who has an iron-clad need to help and be of assistance to anyone that may require it. Being a Paladin has been something they’ve strived towards for the last eight years of their life; training being second to nothing. It’s simply a mere coincidence, or the Divine’s Will, that their first major mission was to rid Arvandor of the last dregs of Netheron… A mission that brought them to The Spire, with a small band of warriors, to carry out that very task— wherein they find the Lost Heir of Aetheria. You.
Gabriel/Gabrielle Adair: Being renowned within the arcane arts, having achieved the rank of High Mage within the Aetherian Institute of Magic, it’s of little surprise that the royal family of Aetheria would call on someone with their skill set— if it weren’t for the scandal that still plagues them. You’re not sure what could have been so bad that would force them to retreat within themself like they have, especially if your parents had seen them fit enough to tutor you, but it’s obviously something that weighs heavily upon them. Will it be possible to wrangle out the secrets of their past when you’re still trying to figure out your own gift?
Ilyran/Ilyria Caelestis: The Forsaken One, an individual that’s visible only to your eyes from a ritual gone wrong. There isn’t much you can glean from them, after all you can only take what they say with a grain of salt, but the shadows that lurk within their eyes has nothing to do with the darkness that now lives within them. It’s hard sometimes to look at what they’ve become when you’ve seen what they were in Old Texts, when they weren’t the Forsaken One, weren’t the Divine’s Disgrace… When they were simply Ilyran/Ilyria Caelestis, High Priest/Priestess of the Holy Order.
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opbackgrounds · 9 months
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Before driving deeper into Usopp’s side of thing, I want to focus a little bit on Luffy, because as I’ve mentioned previously, this fight between has a bit of a different flavor from other Luffy-centric battles, but what I haven’t mentioned yet is how public all this is. The final battles with big bads like Arlong, Crocodile, and Enel were all away from other people, but not here. The shift of Luffy becoming a more public figure started with his ass whooping of Bellamy way back in Jaya, but even that was only in front of a bunch of pirates. Showing up to rock Enies Lobby is what’s really going to launch him into the public spotlight, and so it stands to reason that this final stand against Lucci is seen by both the marines and the Straw Hat Pirates.
So far he and Lucci have been on pretty equal footing, but Lucci managed to save his last big trump card until this moment, and seems to have Luffy beat when Usopp shows himself for real. Oda puts a ton of emphasis on Luffy’s expression, this panel alone taking up 3/4 of the page.
And, like, imagine Luffy’s shock. The gag of him not recognizing who Sogeking is turns on its head and is instead played for the deepest, juiciest drama. Usopp isn’t a Straw Hat anymore. He had no obligation to come to Enies Lobby. But he did.
All throughout Enies Lobby there’s been this running thread of the Straw Hats helping each other out of situations they couldn’t handle alone. Nami saving Sanji, Sanji saving Usopp, Usopp saving Robin. Hell, Robin not trusting her friends to keep her safe from the World Government is what kicked off this mess in the first place. The whole reason Luffy was so adamant about going against Lucci was because he recognized him as the strongest threat to the crew, and it’s Luffy’s job as the captain to protect those under his leadership from that kind of danger.
But right now he can’t. He’s not strong enough. And it’s not until Usopp threatens to put himself in harm’s way against an enemy they both know he has no chance about that he stands up and finishes the fight. Because even the captain needs to be propped up by his crew once in a while, and Luffy would rather die than have one of his crew get killed.
Do you remember now the fight started between Usopp and Luffy in the first place? Usopp argued, using the Merry as a proxy for his feelings, that Luffy would leave behind and abandon the weakest members of his crew to further his own ambition, and here, now, Luffy is showing in a very real way that that’s not true. But even if Luffy is willing to put his life on the line to protect Usopp from people like Lucci, he still needs Usopp’s help. He still needed those words from his best friend in order to stand up one last time. 
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seravphs · 11 months
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ੈ♡˳·˖✶ — KNIGHT! GOJO x PRINCESS! FEM READER
Gojo has devoted his entire life to protecting you as your dedicated guard. A greater force is conspiring to keep you apart. 
wc — 3.7k
tags — royal au, childhood friends, forbidden love, protective Gojo, sneaking around/flouting social etiquette, period drama-esque tension between repressed princess and rakish knight, mutually possessive, title from Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen
part 1 of the hand which holds the knife
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Everyone knew Satoru Gojo was supposed to be yours. 
You claimed him the day you knighted him. He wore your colors and answered to your demands. The physical evidence of your ownership was all over him, the way someone would mark a well loved pet. Even the neck of his jacket carried your embroidery like a collar. To anyone with eyes, he was your adored guard dog. 
When all of your memories blur into one stream of consciousness, the day you knighted him remains clear. You remember everything, including your father stealing him out from under you. 
You were the only one who truly thought he was ever going to be yours. It was part of the promise you had sworn to each other as children, playing princess and the guard with wooden swords and flower crowns. 
Looking back, you can see the gears of court machinations turning. It was no simple coincidence that the only heir to House Gojo ended up in close proximity to you, any more than any other of your introductions to sons of highborn houses. 
Gojo has no interest in pretending to be a prince. It was boring for him to be trapped in restricting uniforms complete with epaulets. He found more pleasure in protecting you from danger while you preened in your gilded cage, none the wiser through his efforts. Safe and unaware, the way he liked it. You would never have to know how dangerous the world was if he simply destroyed everything in your path before it got to you. 
You didn’t understand the way the adults looked at the two of you. All you knew was that you couldn’t bear to be apart from him. You rose each morning looking for him, and went to bed waiting for the minute you’d be reunited again. He was your whole world, your one and only friend. It was his hand that guided you through childhood adventures. He was the sword and shield that had cut down kidnappers and serpents for you. 
The first wedge in your relationship comes with his twelfth birthday. 
You chase his back through the years, watching it broaden in front of your eyes. His body changes. His voice drops. The first time you hear it after the pitchy squeaks of puberty clear from his throat, you feel the sickening wrench of something in your stomach. It had never mattered before that Gojo was a man, potentially your betrothed. 
Now it burns you to look at him. He became gorgeous while you weren’t looking, all long willowy limbs and snow white hair. The women of the court have started looking at him now. They call him the beautiful dragon, after his house crest. 
Even though you know reasonably that you can do nothing about this, really, you have no right to, that galls you. You’re a princess. You’re used to being able to deal with things that upset you with little more than a nod to Gojo. But he can’t solve issues that he’s the root of. 
The only way to show everyone that Gojo’s devotion belongs to you is to tie him to your side. At twelve, he’s already the strongest squire in the entire kingdom. Better than most knights, even. It’s a clear path to being the greatest knight of his time, throughout all of history, even. He already promised to be your sword when you were children. All you have to do is wait. 
Gojo trains and you begin to learn the extent of your royal responsibilities. Study etiquette. Marry well. Become a dutiful wife. Give the king heirs. 
Gojo becomes Lord Gojo. He calls you princess now. Although part of you rebels at the idea that he would ever call you anything other than your name, another part of you can’t help the queasy feeling you get when he says your title, low and soft. Like he means it for your ears only. Like princess is just another way of showing how much of him is yours. 
Gojo is not usually a proud man because he doesn’t have to be. His abilities speak for himself. But he’s cocky to a fault. He knows the extent of his capabilities, which means he won’t capitulate to anyone. Why would he? 
When it comes to you, however, he bends his neck and accepts the collar willingly. The strongest can only be tamed by what he allows to tame him and it’s you, it’s always been you. 
Perhaps that’s why things turn out the way they do on the day you knight him. 
Or, as you find out later, your father knights him. 
It was the day after your sixteenth birthday. Gojo himself had turned seventeen three months and six days before. It was strangely old for a boy of his caliber. He was so talented he could’ve been the youngest knight in the realm, but no one could make Gojo do something he didn’t want to do. 
There was no shame in it, either. Everyone knew Gojo was too talented and well-connected for it to be anything other than his own choice. The only heir of House Gojo, he was destined to become a knight even if he did nothing to earn it. And he had done much to earn it. 
Winning wars single handedly tended to do that. There were already legends blooming from the battlefield by the time he came home and tossed the unlucky enemy commander’s head at the king’s feat. His bow wasn’t nearly low or respectful enough to be addressed to the king, but he had been lighter-hearted back then, more willing to forgive. 
Especially for Gojo, who had cut a killing swathe through the ranks of the opposing army so ruthlessly they began to call him a god of death.
Gojo kneels at your feet, his white head still high. He’s a little too tall for you, even at this angle. Lord Commander Yaga clears his throat. Gojo looks up through the wisps of hair that have escaped to obscure his eyes. They’re piercing, an attractively violent blue. 
“I’m sorry,” he says, so low no one else could’ve heard the two of you even if you hadn’t been standing alone on the podium in front of the king’s throne. “Am I too tall for you now, princess?” 
“Don’t tease,” you whisper back, flustered despite yourself. The pommel of the sword is clammy in your grip. You’re scared to drop it and accidentally take a finger off with it. 
You’re taking too long. It’s making you anxious. You’re distinctly aware of your father’s stare boring into your back. You’ve been sheltered since you were young by your father’s paranoia, but he’s recently begun letting you apply yourself more to your royal duties. You can’t give him any reason to doubt you. 
Gojo dips a little lower. 
With this change in angle, you can place the flat of the blade on each of his shoulders. It’s your father’s sword, too large and unwieldy in your hands. Standing over Gojo is a strange experience. It’s uncomfortable looking down on someone who’s been taller than you for all your life. 
You wish he would stop looking at you like that. His gaze is searching. You feel naked underneath it, even with layers of dresses on. When he says his vows, it feels intimate, like he’s speaking them to you. For you. 
Gojo rises, shaking his hair out of his eyes like a shaggy dog. Like this, you’re reminded suddenly of how strong he is. His shoulders are broad underneath his silver armor. Lean muscle cords his legs. There’s an easy, effortless grace to the way he moves - the confidence of a man who has never been bested in his entire life. 
“Thank you,” he murmurs. He’s still standing too close. If it were any other man, your father would have demanded he be whipped by now, but Gojo has always gotten away with things no one could. He ducks his head so he can speak directly into your ear - dangerous, even for him. He says his piece fast. “I’ll see you in your rooms, my lady.” 
Then he pulls back. 
There are thunderclouds gathering across the king’s face, but when you shake your head, your father relents. He smiles and kisses your temple as you climb up the steps of the platform of his throne to return the sword to him. 
Years later, you learn that the moment you leave the throne room, your shoulders sure with the knowledge that Gojo is finally secure in your grasp, your father takes up the sword you had held and knights him. Princesses have no authority to confer knighthood. Only kings. 
You know your father means well. He loves you. You’re all he has left. If Gojo pushed for your hand to be one that he swears loyalty to first, then your father would have been happy to comply either way. You just wish you would’ve known that it meant nothing. 
There’s a sharp rap on your door, followed by two short, one long. A code you had devised a long time ago. You pull open the door and Gojo all but falls into your room. He’s pressed up against you, front to front as he closes the door behind him, tumbling you into your bed. 
“Hi, princess,” he says, his breath warm against your neck. You squirm in his hold, feeling heat rush through your veins. It’s getting harder and harder to hide the way he affects you, but you don’t want anything to change between the two of you. Though sometimes, you swear Gojo likes using your title so much precisely because he knows how you react to it. 
“We have to stop doing this,” you tell him, like you tell him every time. “It’s inappropriate.” 
He groans and pushes away from you. You mourn the loss of contact. “Come on, don’t make me do this again. Who cares if it’s inappropriate? Who says?” 
“Dame Zenin thinks we’re too close.” 
“Dame Zenin is an idiot,” Gojo says. “You know she only says that because she wants to get rid of me so you’ll look at Naoya. As if you would ever, even if I was gone.” 
“Still.” 
Gojo grabs your chin in his hand. “You are a princess and I am the only heir to House Gojo. We bow to no one, understand? What right do mice have to judge dragons?”
He’s the dragon, you think. Your crest is the rose. You exist to be judged. That’s the role of a princess. 
Gojo sprawls out on your bed. He’s so tall he takes up more than half of it, even though your bed was built to be more than twice your size. His eyes are shut, his long white lashes soft. He looks gentle in repose, almost like a lamb with his coloring. 
He’s beautiful. He always is. You want to touch, to hold, to claim. You want to press your ear against his chest and steal the thunderous beat of his heart for your own. You want to press your rouged lips to his neck and collarbones, to mark his body with a muted rose. 
Instead, you sit stiff, prim and proper. 
He opens his eyes. “Come here,” he says, his arm reaching for you. You let him pull you closer. 
As always, he has to reach out first. You can’t allow yourself to take what you want. It’s not in your nature, the way you were raised. 
You bury your face into the space between his neck and his shoulder. 
“There we go,” he coos. Your face burns with the condescension of it, the way he treats you like an animal that has to be carefully coaxed closer. But he’s not wrong, and that’s why you let him pet you into submission, gently stroking your sides as he tangles his legs with yours. 
You were never so affected by him as children. Somewhere along the way, Gojo had become unmanageable to you, and you don’t know what to do about it. 
“Stay with me,” he murmurs against your hair. “Where are you going off to in that pretty head of yours?” 
“I’m with you,” you whisper against his neck. “I’m always here.” 
You’ve spoiled him, you think. When you were a child, you didn’t know any better. Gojo was just Gojo. Letting him stay by your side even as you got older was an indulgence that he now pushes the limits of. He’s never cared about propriety. 
“You have to go back to your room now,” you whisper reluctantly. You’re always the more cautious one of your duo. It’s been too long. Someone will become suspicious. For once, you wish you could just let go of your worries, but someone has to check Gojo. If both of you just did whatever you wanted, it’d be the ruin of your houses. This is how it has to be: Gojo pushes and you pull back. 
The dim light of the dying candles make his blue eyes appear black. “Give me something of yours first,” he says. 
You know what he’s asking for. You climb up from the bed and go into your dresser to search, turning up one of your handkerchiefs. It bears the colors of your house and your careful embroidery.
He kneels at your feet. 
“Stop,” you say, trying to pull away. 
Gojo presses a kiss to your hand. His lips are soft against the skin of your hand, temptation incarnate. Your fingers tremble lightly in his grasp, torn between wanting to seize him and wanting to run away. The enormity of your desire for him terrifies you. If you ever let him in for one second, you can see how easy your descent would be. 
“I’m yours, princess. Don’t forget it.” 
With that, he ties your favor around his wrist and finally leaves you to your room, panting like you’d run through the halls. No matter how old you get, Gojo always leads in your interactions. He plays with you, enjoying the way he can make you react to him. 
It’s normal for a princess to visit the training yard, you try to convince yourself the next day. There’s nothing strange about stopping by while you’re on your afternoon walk. After all, you should keep abreast of everything within your castle. 
Gojo stands in the center of the yard. He’s demonstrating one of his self created drills, a complicated set of maneuvers only he can pull off. In short, he’s showing off while pretending like he’s doing the class a favor by trying to teach them something. 
Lord Commander Yaga notices you the moment you set foot in the yard. You should expect it. After all, it’s his territory. 
“Attention,” he bellows. “The princess is here.” 
Gojo perks up and finishes his final set of movements even faster. He throws his sword carelessly to the side, leaving a young squire scrambling to catch the priceless weapon as he strides towards you. 
He’s a little sweaty. You want to wrap your arms around him anyways, but you restrain yourself. 
“I’m sorry for interrupting,” you say. 
Gojo grins at you. It’s a sharp thing, his smile, hungry and wolfish. “Not at all. I was just thinking of you, my lady.” 
You tilt your head at him curiously. 
Around you, the men are scrambling to line up into neat little rows. 
“I’m picking a squire,” Gojo says. “Would you like to make the decision for me?” 
It’s a question that shocks you. You whirl to look at him again, see if he’s joking like usual, but he seems perfectly serious. “I don’t know anything about knighthood,” you tell him the truth. 
He moves closer. You’re tempted to step back immediately, but you don’t. You don’t want a sign of discomfort to be misinterpreted and used against him. Besides, you relish the proximity. Seeing Gojo in public feels like dancing on blades. The adrenaline terrifies you, but you can’t stop wanting more of it. 
“You may not, but you know people. I trust your judgement.” 
A cursory scan of the boys in front of you reveals little. They’re all stiff and proper, their backs as straight as they can make them. Some stand with their arms glued to their sides, others fidget with their swords. Every single one of them is eager for the chance to be acknowledged by the princess. They’re equally hopeful for the chance to squire for the greatest knight in the kingdom.
None of them catch your eye on the first or second passes. 
Only on the third, a boy with pink hair smiles at you. It’s such a small gesture. But for a boy who had looked just like everyone else at first, the toothy smile splits his features. It opens him up. He looks kind. 
You gesture him forward. 
Lord Commander Yaga nods approvingly. “Itadori is a good one, Your Royal Highness. He’s one of the best in this batch. Naturally strong, but just as hardworking.” 
“See,” Gojo says. “I knew you would choose well.” 
He touches your hand briefly, slipping a white scrap of paper inside your closed fist before he grabs Itadori by the shoulder and hauls him off for further training. Although disappointed, the other squires still look starstruck to be in his presence, though Yaga disperses them all to train themselves soon enough. 
In elegant cursive, Gojo has written a time and place. 
You shouldn’t go. 
You can’t risk it. 
All eyes are on you and Gojo as it is. People already suspect the two of you of something unsavory. Courtly love is one thing, but you and Gojo are too close for an unmarried man and a woman. As a princess, your sole purpose is to marry well and bring alliances to your house. You can’t risk damaging your reputation. 
But every stolen encounter with Gojo steals your breath away. You sneak through the halls, quiet and empty. 
A hand slaps over your mouth before you can scream as someone tugs you into a dark corridor. 
You kick and lash out, forgetting everything Gojo has taught you in favor of blind violence. 
“Shh,” comes a voice in your ear. “It’s just me.” 
You bite him. 
He hisses and pulls back, shaking out his hand. “What’s wrong with you?” 
“Why would you do that? You scared me!” 
“You’re not careful enough, princess. There was a maid coming up on your left that you hadn’t even noticed.” 
You sigh and lean into him. You can’t help it. 
He laughs. “Are you that happy to see me?” 
“If you don’t shut up, I’ll show you exactly how happy I am.” 
“Come on,” he tugs you out towards the gardens. It’s dangerous, but you follow him anyway. Being with Gojo is so threatening not despite his strength, but because of it. You rely on him too easily, trusting him to see you safely through any peril. It’s easy to relax when he’s with you, his presence the promise of security. 
You expect him to tell you why he called you here, but he’s silent when he tugs you down on the bench next to him. 
“Gojo?” 
“Here,” he says, opening his hands. A single crushed violet sits on his palm. You laugh, picking it up and raising to your eye. It’s all the more fragrant because it has been mangled, the delicate petals bruised. 
Gojo’s mouth lifts in a smile, too. “Sorry,” he says. “I didn’t realize.” 
“You really know how to win a girl’s heart,” you tease. 
“Hopefully I know how to win over her father’s, too.”
You freeze. 
“I’m sorry. I can’t wait any longer. I’m going to ask your father to be your dedicated knight tomorrow. Do I have your permission?” 
You hesitate, worrying your lip with your teeth, but Gojo understands. Years of watching after you, bandaging your scrapes that you refuse to cry over or avenging your honor after you pretend your pride hasn’t been hurt has taught him a lot. He can see right through you. You never need to hide when you’re with him. 
“It’s alright,” he says. “We can wait.” 
“It’s not that I don’t want you to be my guard,” you say in a small voice. “I just-” 
“I know,” he says. “But I’m the strongest. Who else would your father ask to protect you but me?” 
“Do you think he’ll say yes?” 
Gojo looks at you seriously. “I’ll get down on both knees and beg him if I have to.” 
“Don’t do that,” you gasp. 
“I don’t care,” he says. “You’re what’s most important to me. More than pride, more than honor. Can I ask your father for you?” 
You look at the crushed violet in your hand. 
Who else but Gojo? 
You press the flower back into his palm. “I trust you to do what’s right.” 
His eyes soften. He leans closer. 
“Gojo,” comes a voice. “What are you doing in the gardens this late at night?” 
You stiffen. The owner of the voice is drawing closer.
“Do you trust me?” Gojo asks, as cool and collected as ever. 
You nod, not trusting your voice not to give you away. He cups your face in his hands and ever so delicately presses a light kiss to your cheek, tilting his head towards you. 
“Stop,” he tells the man behind you. “Don’t come any closer. You’ll scare her.” 
“A new plaything?” Asks the Lord Commander. “I’m not so scary, am I?” 
Gojo notices you tremble harder. He lifts a hand to the back of your head and presses it gently towards his shoulder, obscuring your face even further. “Come here, darling,” he murmurs. “That’s right, what a good little thing,” he says as you press yourself into him. He pulls you over his lap, your legs straddling his waist as he runs his hand up and down your back. “Keep your head down,” he whispers to you. You tuck your face farther into the crook of his neck. 
Louder, he responds to Yaga. “The Lord Commander of the Kingsguard is a terrifying man, or so I’ve heard.” 
“Just escort her to her room when you’re done,” Yaga says gruffly. “I don’t need to tell you to be a gentleman, do I?” 
“No, sir,” Gojo says cheerfully. 
In hindsight, you’re still not sure if Yaga recognized you or not. On one hand, he’s known you since you were a child. He watched, a silent guard, as your father raised you. On the other hand, he’s never brought it up to you. 
The only other reason you suspect he realized who you really were was Gojo’s induction into the kingsguard the very next day. 
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sorbetisfruity · 1 year
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I feel like Vil would be LIVID if he found out you were friends with Neige, hell he’d be even more pissed if he found out you’ve been friends with him for a while!!!
Let’s say Crowley gave you the week off because god damn do you need a break. And you went walking in the forest for some much needed silence and you time.
And while walking, you bump into someone. And it’s the whole cliche thing where you bump into them and you fall on top of them and your lips are nearly touching andddd-
YEAH!!! You both scramble up and your faces are brightttt red!!
You don’t recognize him, you’ve never seen him before.
But, he knows who you are.
He’s seen you in papers and the news and heard your name all throughout RSA.
You’re the person who has stopped all the overblots and fights and drama.
You’re a hero!!!
He immediately introduces himself, shaking your hand gently. Not before apologizing of course for, ya know, almost KISSING you.
And as soon as you smile, it’s love at first sight.
I hardcore believe that Neige believes in soulmates and love at first sight, and he thinks you’re the one for him.
And that’s where your friendship starts!! You guys keep in contact and hangout on rare occasions you two are free.
And absolutely no one except a couple RSA students know because imagine how much havoc that would cause??
It’s a wonder how he hasn’t posted any of the millions of pictures he’s taken of you (he’ll post them after the VDC).
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Anyways the VDC comes up and that’s when you really get close with Vil. And you learn how much he HATESSSS Neige.
So, now you’ve gotta keep your friendship with Neige quiet.
Though that’s pretty hard when he delivers baked goods and flowers to your house every so often.
And when everyone’s wondering who “Prince Charming” is in your phone after Rook peeked over your shoulder one day.
We get to the day of the VDC and you’re backstage trying to calm everyone down and hopefully settle their nerves and BOOM!!
You get tackled to the ground by all the dwarves.
They’re all happy to see you, after all it’s been so long since you’ve hung out with them!!
And then here comes Neige.
Vil is FUMING.
All the dwarves get off you and Neige hugs you tightly, sitting you down immediately and playing with your soft hair.
He tells you how much he missed you and how pretty you look and how excited he is to see your group perform.
And it’s insanely clear to everyone that he’s in love with you, but whateverrrrr!!!
And his flirting continues until he has to go up and perform.
That’s when Vil confronts you and pretty much screams about how you could do so much better and that you never told him you were soooo close with the enemy.
And that’s what causes him to overblot instead of the whole almost poisoning Neige and Rook stopping him thingy.
Because he’s so upset that you are friends with Neige, and you are so close with Neige, and Neige clearly thinks you’re the love of his life.
And everything gets too much and he just, explodes.
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vinsmokesangio · 5 months
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"are we on a date?"
pairing: tom blyth x bestfriend!reader x actress!reader
summary: you and tom met not long ago, but the connection you have and affection for each other turns into something more. tom is three years older than reader, she’s initiating in acting.
genre: only fluffy - at least for now
warnings: english is not my first language | no proofread.
N/A.: Hi! I really want to turn this into a series, but I need reader engagement to know if it’s worth it! Don't forget to comment, reblog, and tell me what you think <3 read my social media au here!
word count: 954
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It was a cloudy and cold Friday, and you’re feeling completely tired. After several classes and auditions throughout the day, all you wanted was to be at home watching your favorite movies and rest with your comfy pajamas. Picking all of your stuff at the restroom to finally go home, your cellphone rings with a message from Tom, your best friend. Suddenly, there are some butterflies in your stomach… looks like the universe heard you.
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It was a wonderful idea, right? Tom’s busy as hell since he got important roles and projects, and despite feeling really happy and proud of him, you miss him a lot and all of your quality times.
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Something about the nickname gave you so much comfort and warmth in your heart. Tom was picking you up by car at your drama school in a couple minutes and you couldn't help but feel anxious in a good way.
"Hi pretty boy!" - you grinned while hugging him and putting on your seatbelt. 
Tom was wearing a gray sweater matching wonderfully with his pretty blue eyes. Smiling at you, he responded:
"I’ve missed you a lot, honey. How’s your day going by far?" - He said and headed on his way to the nearest coffee shop. 
"I’m just exhausted. We're in the final stretch of the Christmas play and I've never felt so tired. It’s like, I don't know, but my mind needs a break." - You sighed, staring in front of you, looking at the light traffic on the busy avenue.
"And I’m here to make your wish come true" - he chuckled. - "We can grab some coffee and watch silly memes on the internet like we used to do, whatcha think?" - Tom is always so gentle and lovely. 
Your friendship was really a very healthy, comfortable thing... and every time you saw each other, it was as if you never had any problems in the world. It was just you and him, inside jokes and comfort. You wished you could say how important he is to you, but instead, you simply nodded while you both entered on the drive thru and took your order. 
Tom parked the car at the coffee shop and you spent hours updating each other on your busy routines, laughing over tiktoks, singing... There were also moments of comfortable silence between the two of you, the calm you loved and needed so much. 
He looked different this time. You didn't know if it was because you hadn't seen each other for a while, but you could feel that something inside you and the way you looked at him was different. A few sparks every time he smiled at you, and you swore you could feel the same coming from him too.
Her cell phone rings, breaking her out of her reverie, showing a call from your mother. You realize that you forgot to tell her that you would be coming home later today, but all you had to do was tell her that you were with Tom and her worry would disappear. She loved him. Sometimes it seemed like she loved him even more than you, her own daughter.
“Enjoy your date tho”, your mother said cheerfully on the other side of the line. You couldn't help but chuckle and feel your cheeks burn, as you looked at your friend who had a confused expression on his face. Before you could answer, she hangs up the phone.
"What does she said? Why were you laughing?" - Tom asked with a funny expression while taking a sip of your already watery iced coffee.
"It’s nothing! Curious boy." - you poke him.
"I don’t believe you. But I know you enough to know that one day, when you least expect it, you'll tell me like it's no big deal." - He teased as he pointed at you between each word.
"I want to show you a video that I forgot to send you." - you tried to change the direction of the conversation, wanting to avoid confessions that might come out too soon. Your mother was always right, and it made you wonder if you were actually on a date with Tom. 
After a burst of laughter, you find yourself in a awkward silence trying to catch your breath. “It’s time”, you thought.
“Enjoy your date”, my mom said at the phone. - you finally confess, avoiding his gaze.
Tom looks at you with a surprised, but fun and provocative expression:
"So… are we on a date? Kinda looks like one to me." 
You can't hide your smile mixed with an expression of surprise and doubt. It's really impressive how Tom always found it easy to confess things, to be direct, but his goofy personality - which you loved - always confused you about whether he was being serious or not.
"I wouldn't mind if we actually were in one." - You said in almost a whisper, but he clearly listened.
Finally you find the courage to look into his eyes, and notice his calm smile looking into yours with admiration and affection.
"I thought you would never say that. You're a bit slow to even ask me on a date, frankly, buttercup!" - He scowled at you, making you laugh nervously. You're so lost in his "confession" that you can't even notice his hands on your thighs.
The comfortable silence that existed between the two of you suddenly became a little awkward. You take a deep breath, and slowly lean over him to join your lips in a calm kiss, with all the accumulated affection. He reciprocates by taking one of his hands to your face and stroking your hair with the other.
If there was any doubt about his feelings towards you before, it disappeared at that moment.
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hotvintagepoll · 2 months
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Propaganda
Hermione Baddeley (Brighton Rock, Passport to Pimlico, Mary Poppins)— An absolute mainstay of British films from this period. She’s an icon who never takes shit from anyone in any of her movies, dresses for the occasion, and has the best line delivery! Also she started out in silent movies, and was a close friend of Noel Coward. In a desperate attempt to appeal to a large tumblr fandom, I will also point out that her first husband and one of her children were both called David Tennant. You like that name, don’t you tumblr??
Glynis Johns (Mary Poppins, The Court Jester)—LISTEN, I'd let that woman's voice with all its gravely hoarseness (positive) wash over me all goddamn day, but if that's not enough she managed to play the straight woman to Danny Kaye's jester, all with her cleavage so plunging it might as well have been catapulted into the ocean right after Basil Rathbone
This is round 1 of the bracket. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.
[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]
Glynis Johns propaganda:
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She walks the line between sexy and cute. Her best role for me is in "The Court Jester as Maid Jean. She's fantastic as the soft but tough captain of the outlaw band and she looks stunning in every gown she wears throughout the film. And of course we can't forget her iconic turn as the suffragette mother, Mrs. Banks, in Mary Poppins! Also shoutout to her distinctive and beautiful voice, kind of smoky and husky. Extremely hot and set her apart from many of her peers."
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"Listen, listen. I was raised on Mary Poppins and "Votes for women! (step in time)" single-handedly taught me how to be a feminist. Also The Court Jester is one of my favourite movies of all time and she is UNBELIEVABLY gorgeous, charismatic, funny, and clever in it. She knocks several men out. Absolute icon."
"Like Bette Davis she has eyes to die for. Unlike Bette Davis you felt comforted by them, even when she was batting her eyelashes at you. Would glady go to Downing Street with her and throw things at the Prime minister"
"She had this wonderful wit and charm to her no matter the role and the most distinctive, striking voice!"
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"She was amazing in Mary Poppins (the Suffragette song is severely underrated) and apparently she was Welsh? National pride! And she advocated for arts funding in Wales, which is very cool. Also, she died recently (RIP) making her one of the last survivors of the Golden Age of Hollywood, according to Wikipedia. Also also, she just has a cheeky energy I like? And her eyes are beautiful!"
"I mean, incredibly beautiful and talented, can do drama can do comedy. And she was a mermaid."
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"I love Glynis Johns. Most of the reason is The Court Jester where she's a sensible and capable foil to whatever what going on with Danny Kaye at the time. She was also the first star I based an OC on. An OC that I still have to this day! Anyway here have some YouTube links love u bye"
Mermaid clip: https://www.youtube.com/shorts/1jUEA03mYTk
Court Jester (sharing a bed trope): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5d_qG9i054U
Court Jester (seducing the king): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C-GuqFYElKg
"VOTES FOR WOMEN! Well, votes for this woman. Please."
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Hermione Baddeley propaganda:
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Propaganda for both Hermione and Glynis:
youtube
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shijiujun · 2 months
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Premiering tonight Feb. 24, 2024 at 8PM (GMT+8)!
关于未知的我们 Unknown is adapted from Priest's danmei novel 大哥 Big Brother, of which drama adaptation rights was acquired by Result Entertainment in Taiwan. This means that this will be filmed uncensored as BL, and will be promoted as a Taiwan BL usually is (pre-premiere press con, likely fanmeets etc.)
✨ Channel: Youku International, every Saturday 8PM (GMT+8)
✨ Summary: Wei Qian has led a tough life since he was young, with a absent father and a mother who resents him. His parents pass away when he's 13, leaving behind a sister with him. One day, he picks up a stray from the streets, a homeless kid who has nowhere to go and begins to follow him, leaving him no choice to bring him home. Wei Qian, Wei Zhiyuan and the sister Song Xiaobao grow up with each other, with Wei Qian sheltering and protecting them, being father, mother, sibling to Wei Zhiyuan and Song Xiaobao. To survive, Wei Qian does everything possible, including underground brawling, and when he gets older, he finally enters a company and becomes a successful professional. As they grow older, however, Wei Zhiyuan realizes that he has feelings for Wei Qian — throughout his entire life since being picked up by Wei Qian, his life has revolved around his big brother and big brother only. While they're not related by blood, they have grown up as siblings all this while, so he understands how doomed his affections for Wei Qian is. Inevitably, the truth comes to light and angered, Wei Qian sends Wei Zhiyuan overseas, where he stays for four years, which gives Wei Qian some time to think of his own feelings for Wei Zhiyuan. When they reunite four years later, Wei Qian comes back a more matured, level-headed person who finally knows how to deal with his feelings and what to do with Wei Qian. However, their past catches up with them.
(It's a HE! And somehow according to the novel there's a bit of murder involved at the end... might be a tad out of place but it's 100% HE!)
✨ Actors: The guys playing Wei Qian and Wei Zhiyuan (Qiu Yuchen | Chris Chiu [33] and Huang Hongxuan | Kurt Huang [26]) have been in the industry for years, and are also close friends IRL even though this is their first time ever working on a project together. Before this, they've only ever met up for basketball and other stuff XD and I quote Qiu Yuchen as he says, "Yeah technically, we've known each other for so long that I did indeed... watch him grow up." And through the filming of this show, Qiu Yuchen and Huang Hongxuan mentioned that it feels like they went from good friends to actual family, and they have 100% absolute trust for each other which made some of the more difficult scenes easier to grasp.
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writers-potion · 13 days
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How do I accurately include diversity, and not make it look like I’m just putting it in there for the sake of it?
Writing Diverse Characters - Things to Remember
Honestly, there's no definitive answer to this.
Your characters are people with clear goals, desires and a role to play in the plot. As long as they aren't just sitting there with little else but their race/gender/disability, etc. as their ONLY personality trait, at least you're on the right path.
As for representing a diverse character realistically, here are some things you can consider to get started.
Do's
RESEARCH. There are plenty of blogs/YT vids/websites that exist to help you! Meet people!
Get beta readers.
It doesn't have to be explicit. Racial identities become quite clear early on through the setting, name, and initial description(hair, eye/skin color, body shape, etc) without having to drum it into the readers each time. Gender diversity can be conveyed through the use of certain pronouns without awkward declarations.
Character first, diversity second. Please don't intentionally create a diverse character and then think about how you can push them into the cast. Have a working character, who happens to belong to a particular group.
Read works that have represented a group well. There are plenty of non-fiction works, movies and documentaries that capture the lives of people around the world with a good eye.
Use the correct terms/language
Include different types of diversity
Don'ts
Race/gender/diability is NOT a personality trait. Please. Telling me that you have a Korean girl tells me next to nothing about the character herself.
Using sterotypes. Now, it's all right if your character has a few sterotypical traits, but definitely not if sterotypes are the only thing they have.
Diversity is not a "shock factor". Suddenly revealing that a character is actually gay and has been in the closet all this time as a refresher so that it draws readers' attention? Not a good idea.
One diverse character does all. This can often be seen in female characters of slightly dated works where one woman will play the role of supportive mother, sister, femme fetale and sexy Barbie at the same time. Don't write a diverse character who basically does everything a diverse character can possibly be. All that it proves is that the writer is lazy.
Things I personally hate seeing:
Weird pronunciation of languages. As a Korean person, I always get turned off by works (mostly badly written fanfics, yes, I read those...) that try to transfer Korean dialogue directly onto the page without even checking for the correct way to spell them out. A similar example would be pinyin for Mandarin. Please, this makes the character sound stupid throughout...
Character sticking out almost painfully. If your character isn't from the region but have lived in it for a long time, what reason do they have not to blend in?
Relying on variety shows/dramas as reference. Media representation of diverse characters that are meant for entertainment is not the best source for authentic research. I die every time someone lists a number of Korean rom-coms they've watched for "research". IT DOES NOT COUNT.
As a last note, remember that there's no limit to the kind of characters a writer can writer. Accept that our job as writers is to step into other people's heads, not seeing things from one (our) perspective - and it is not going to be easy.
Hope this helps :)
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splaede · 11 months
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AFTER DARK. Armin Arlert (CH. 5)
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☰ pairings: Armin x Reader, Slight Eren x Reader
┌─ ✮⭒。 story summary: Armin was tired of being seen as an innocent, goody-two-shoes, little flower boy. Instead, he wanted to be seen in a more romantic and…sexual light. You just couldn’t turn down a sweet boy like him, so you agreed to hone his charms and teach him special…skills.
And he turned out to be much more powerful (and hotter) than you'd ever expected.
└─ ✩⭒。 story #tags: fluff, angst, smut, friends to lovers, friends w benefits, drama, jealousy, hurt/comfort, manipulative armin, virgin armin, loss of virginity, childhood friends, lots of tension, nerd armin, and then he glows up, love triangles, unrequited love, gaslighting, lots of buildup
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☰ CHAPTER FIVE. armin's move
┌─ ✮⭒。 chapter summary: The night at Connie's house doesn't go the way you expected.
└─ ✩⭒。 chapter warnings: a little suggestive(?), petting
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☰ table of contents | previous chapter | next chapter
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It was Saturday again.
Everything between you, Armin, and Eren seemed to fall back to normal, just as they were before. And it was better that way, considering you’d have to see them soon.
Eren's phone call wasn't anything to stress over, but Armin's request on the other hand...
You couldn't just gloss over that so quickly.
But if you were to bring it up, what would that mean next?
Dim, closed-off images of last night resurfaced in your head—images of him, disheveled, strewn with sleepiness, tilting in so close to you as his warm breath fanned over your lips, all in a hazy order of events that you couldn’t force yourself to rearrange. 
A slow, unconscious sigh escaped you. You needed to stop thinking about it.
Because in reality, you liked it. 
You liked how tempting he looked in the dark—eyes half-lidded and attractive, shadows contouring his face—and how tantalizing the situation was, how intimate he made it.
The recent lack of love in your life must be taking a toll on you because you didn't mind doing…whatever that was with your long-time best friend. 
All while you had a crush on your other best friend. 
You were fucked.
"There's sushi in the fridge if you want some," Connie blurted, switching on the TV and collapsing onto his couch, where he watched you from your spot by the kitchen counters. "It's the good kind."
You had been grabbing a drink before Armin had invaded your mind, and you were glad that someone could finally push you out of your thoughts.
"Oh, do you want me to bring it out?" you asked, referring to the coffee table laid with plates of snack food. 
"No, that's the good sushi. I only wanted to ask you."
From behind you, the shrill beep of the microwave resounded throughout the kitchen, followed by Jean's gruff, sardonic voice. "Don't fall for it. He's just trying to butter you up."
"Am not!" Connie rolled his eyes. "I'm sure doing it better than you ever can," he mumbled lowly.
You sent him a glare.
"You can keep your fancy sushi, Connie,” you playfully scoffed, moving towards his sprawled-out form on the couch and sinking into the cushion beside him.
Only a few of your friends were already here at Connie and Jean’s shared apartment for the planned hangout, and you were the third to arrive. 
It was late evening, just an hour after sundown, and the slow warmth from the night outside bled into the living room's atmosphere. Beside you, Connie rambled about some show he watched as he carelessly scrolled through Netflix titles, the sound of previews playing loudly from the speakers. Across from you, Sasha sat curled into her seat while Jean griped about the food he microwaved for her from inside the kitchen, but he only went ignored as she cackled at something on her phone.
If you listened closely enough, you could hear Ymir sneeze from inside the bathroom.
You loved nights like these. It truly felt like summer, just you and your little group of friends. The picture was candid and carefree, a nostalgic reminiscence of your teen self instead of the adulthood you were approaching.
You hoped everyone would arrive soon because you were looking forward to this night for some odd, cheesy, unexplained reason.
At the thought of seeing Armin, your stomach churned. But like the invasive, overpowering person that Eren was, thoughts of him suddenly intruded your mind instead, and the feeling in the pit of your stomach only intensified. When you weren’t thinking of Armin, you were thinking of Eren.
Your phone lit up.
Two texts from Eren.
Of course. Speak of the devil—for the nth time again. He somehow managed to show up at both the right and wrong times. Every time the situation called for it, he always appeared. 
Tapping on the notification, you were greeted with a video followed by a text message that read, “on our way.” 
Our?
The video was his front view from the passenger seat of a car, the road and blocks of storefronts—a location you very distinctly recognize—moving past the window as the car drove forward. But what stood out to you was the little stuffed animal keychain that hung from the rearview mirror along with other cute decorations: a silly-looking My Little Pony plushie. 
Was this Mikasa’s car?
A strange feeling grew in your stomach, twisting and churning until you felt your heart finally sink. You shouldn’t have been disappointed since they were friends and all, but you couldn’t help the little pang in your heart. If anything, this was expected of them, and you just happened to notice it more due to your recent confession.
That damn My Little Pony plushie. 
You kept staring at your screen, long enough for Connie to peek over your shoulder.
"Damn, I didn't know you were a brony."
You quickly retracted your phone, whipping your head around. “Quit stalking! I'm not a brony. And neither is Mikasa."
"That’s Mikasa? Is she on her way then?” He punched your arm. “Finally!" 
You shot him a perplexed look, confused at his odd show of excitement. "Don’t get too excited, Mr. Pissed-His-Pants,” you retorted sarcastically.
Connie’s face suddenly contorted to something mortified and alarmed, mouth agape with creased lines on his forehead. "You saw the picture? Listen, it’s not what it looks like! Sasha spilled her drink on me and thought it’d be funny to say that I pissed myself, I swear. Dude, Sasha needs to stop spreading that picture around. She lied to me, too. She said she didn’t send it to anybody, but as soon as Eren sent me that picture, I—”
Light knocks at the front door suddenly cut Connie’s rambling off. 
Connie shot you a knowing glare, and his expression told you everything you needed to know. 
“Fine, I’ll get it,” you huffed, standing up. 
The doorknob wriggled under your fingers as you twisted it, and the door flew open with more force than you’d intended. 
Armin.
You looked at him wide-eyed, more shocked that it was him in the flesh and not because you hadn’t meant to open the door so harshly.
He matched your surprise, staring at you with doe-eyed confusion, hands in his pockets, but it quickly morphed into a suave smile. You noticed he ditched his glasses today. Probably swapped out for contacts.
"Hey."
Armin looked you up and down, fleetingly, in the usual way that he looked anybody up and down. 
But you swore it was different this time. A hint of something teasing laced in his keen pupils, a slight twitch at the corner of his lips. 
Moving back from the open door, you cleared your throat. “Hey, Armin.” 
He stepped in, just once, before running a hand through his hair. A nervous tick. He’d been doing that a lot lately. 
“Armin?!” Connie blurted, dumbstruck. He scrambled up onto his feet and bounded over to where Armin stood, who only gave him a small smile. “New haircut? You’re sexy, man.”
“Thank you.” Armin laughed shyly, looking Connie up and down, but not in the way he looked you up and down. 
“Woah, Armin!” Sasha, no longer glued to her phone, stood up from her seat. Next thing you know, she was grabbing onto Armin’s shoulders and squinting at his side profile. 
“Fade so good she had to inspect it.” Connie snorted and slapped Armin’s back, hard, and when you were expecting him to jolt forward, he stood, steady, a glint of unfamiliar irritation in his blue eyes. Oh. You sometimes forgot how strong he was.  
Sasha finally released her grip on Armin’s shoulders when Jean stalked out of the kitchen, saying, “You look good, bro.”
Connie sniffed. “I smell bromance.” 
Jean was quick to retort something bitter, and then it was that same routine of insults and banter between the two. But your attention shifted to Armin, who watched your friends joke around with an amused crinkle in his eyes. 
Sensing your gaze, he turned to look right at you, and before you could even speak, images of last night replaced his figure in front of you: that dark, hot, expression of his that you tried to bury. You attempted to speak again, but it was futile because you’d already forgotten what you were about to say. 
“You okay?” He nudged you on the arm with the back of his fingers, concerned. “What are you thinking about?”
At that, your eyes widened. You couldn’t look at him anymore or you’d start thinking about him again. Damn him for saying that. 
His brow lifted slightly. “Nothing bad…right?” he asked, cautious. His words sounded reassuring, but the sudden smile that crept onto his face said otherwise. It was almost as if he was teasing you. 
And you should’ve been less obvious, but you quickly looked to the side in shame. It was weird seeing this side of him. 
Did he know? As perceptive as he was, he still couldn’t possibly know.
Unsure of what to say, you rasped out, “No, nothing bad.”
A lapse of silence that bordered on awkward followed suit, but Armin was quick to change the subject. “Eren and Mikasa are on their way.” 
“Oh. I know.” You paused. “Did he send you a video, too?”
He nodded. “Yeah, why?”
You peeked at your surroundings to see if your friends were near you, and to your relief, Jean, Sasha, and Connie were all huddled near the tiny dining area, far enough and loud enough for them to not hear. 
Turning back to him, you shrugged. “Because I’m such a hypocrite. I’m over here worried about them being together and alone all the time, but you know, we’re doing that. They probably don’t like each other like I’m thinking.”
He nodded slowly, skeptically, then smiled softly. “Yeah, yeah. No, you’re right. It’s most likely nothing. You’re just…paranoid. Your brain is just making things up. That’s all.” 
“You don’t sound too sure.” You chuckled, turning around and throwing yourself back onto the couch. He followed you and sat down, legs slightly spread with a clasped palm resting in between. 
“I wouldn’t lie to you.” Armin paused, not quite meeting your eyes. He looked away. “They don’t like each other.”
You doubted the confidence in his statement. 
“That was the worst shit of my life,” came a voice in the hallway. Ymir walked out, wafting a hand over her nose. “Don’t go in there.” 
Jean made a noise of disgust. “Gross. That’s my bathroom.”
Ymir stepped a foot forward before fully stopping, raising a halfway, accusing finger as she stared dead straight at Armin. “That’s new.” She spared a knowing glance to you, to which you furrowed your brows. “Trying to look good for someone?” 
You put two and two together, immediately averting your gaze when you realized what she meant.
“What, no!” Armin shook his head. “I just—I just wanted to.”
She didn’t look too convinced, but before anyone could say anything, there was a knock on the door yet again. You nudged Armin. 
“I’ll get it,” he announced.
It was Eren and Mikasa. 
Unconsciously, your face lit up at the sight of Eren. He looked good, in the usual collectedness of his demeanor that contrasted the messiness of his tied-up hair. 
His mouth opened, but for a second, the words died in his throat as he finally took in the sight of the blonde standing right in front of him. 
“You cut your hair?! Since when?”
Mikasa peeked out from over Eren’s shoulder, brows lifting in surprise. 
Armin sheepishly smiled. “Just recently.” He opened the door wider as he stepped back. 
“And you didn’t tell us?” Eren raised a brow, smiling nonetheless.
“Surprise.” Armin’s smile multiplied tenfold, and he was all teeth now, grinning like he was proud of himself.
“I think it really suits you,” Mikasa added.
“Yeah, I agree.”
Everyone greeted the two, and there was a new commotion in the apartment space, bustling and familiar, a distinct aura that only seemed to appear when Eren walked into a room. Great, another dot to the list of things you liked about him.
Armin finally sat back down next to you, snug against your side. 
Eren found a way to your other side, and when Mikasa sat down next to him, he scooted toward you, squishing your limbs together as he attempted to make room.
There was a moment of silent shuffling that everyone followed as Armin scooted further down to make space for all four of you. 
You were now sandwiched—practically squeezed—between the two most conflicting boys in your life right now. On your right was the guy you liked, and on your left was your relationship mentee and potential—
Would you ever help me physically?
—friends with benefits. 
It was even worse to actually think about it. You didn’t need to say it out loud for it to sound embarrassing. It wasn’t that having a friends-with-benefits relationship was embarrassing, but that it was with Armin Arlert. And it hadn’t even started yet. 
You squeezed your thighs together. 
“You guys wanna play a game?” Connie threw two controllers in your direction before picking one up for himself. He sat down on the adjacent couch. 
Eren laughed out of his nose, retorting, “Well, you already gave us the controllers, so we don’t have a choice, do we?” 
You watched again as Connie scrolled through a list of game titles. 
But you were all too aware of the bodies pressed against you, shoulders caging you in, almost as if you were under them. 
Feeling uncomfortable, you stood up. What you didn’t know was that at the other end of the couch, Mikasa shifted in her seat, which prompted Eren to scoot your way. And in the process of you standing up, Eren’s body knocked right into yours, catching you off balance. And then there was something firm beneath your thighs when you fell, nothing like the softness of the couch cushion. 
Hands quickly came to brace your hips.
You were basically sitting on half of Armin’s lap, straddling his thigh as he caught you. Your hand instinctively shot out to support you, landing on his other leg.
“Oh,” you said before you even realized it. And the hands on your hips left as quickly as they came. 
“Oh,” he repeats. “Sorry. Careful.”
You fully stood up now, sparing a glance at Eren like you did something wrong, but before your eyes could meet his, he abruptly turned away, like he was caught red-handed. 
“Thanks,” you mumbled, embarrassed, but with your back to Armin and the delay in your response and the whole falling-into-his-lap thing, you wondered if you made it more awkward.
Because it definitely was awkward. Especially with whatever there was between you two. 
You stalked into the kitchen and hoped that you’d find something to do. 
“Y/N, can you get the good sushi?” Connie waved you off, not even offering you a single glance. Judging by the fact that he’d been oddly quiet, he probably hadn’t seen what happened. 
You rolled your eyes but were thankful that you now had a real excuse to be in the kitchen.
There was a sudden wave of new voices from behind the front door, and a series of knocks followed right after. 
Armin stood up again to open the door. 
And as soon as he did, four people that you hadn’t been expecting walked through. Reiner, Bertholdt, Historia, and Annie. This was a perfect opportunity for Armin. 
“Oh, hi guys,” Armin greeted, pausing, eyes panning over the blonde girl. “Hi, Annie.” 
You chimed in a quick greeting, too, watching as Bertholdt and Annie took the seats where you and Armin once sat with Reiner next to Connie on the loveseat.
That left Armin without a spot, standing aimlessly, as he spared you a glance through the kitchen’s pass-through window. 
The moment you made eye contact, though, he came closer. For a moment—and only a moment, your breath constricted in your throat and you stilled in anticipation for a reason you couldn’t even explain. Maybe because then you would be alone with him. Before you could process it, Armin was standing right next to you. 
His lips parted to speak but closed the moment you tugged on his sleeve.
“Hey.” You pulled him deeper into the kitchen, leaning in. “This is your chance. Annie’s here. Talk to her, get closer to her…make a move.” 
He visibly gulped at your words, shooting a wary glance to the side. 
“But everyone’s watching.” 
“That’s why you have to be subtle,” you suggested, to which Armin only raised a confused brow. “Sit next to her—like, really close. Maybe if we’re watching something, you could like, whisper in her ear. Or maybe teach her how to play a video game. Annie’s not with our group that much, so just make her feel welcome.”
“Okay. I’ll try,” he breathed, quiet, and you finally realized how close he stood to you and how close you had pulled him in. 
Your mind wandered to him again—him asking you such an outrageous, yet tempting, question, almost kissing you, and being so intimate with you.
Now that you’d seen him in a different light, it was hard to suppress thoughts like these. 
In a different light.
Wasn’t that his goal the whole time? To be seen more like this? You wondered if he even needed your help because, right now, it seemed like he had already achieved his goal. 
Suddenly, he tapped your waist. 
“You’re spacing out again.” 
But you didn’t reply. No, instead—it was almost instinctive the way you did it—your gaze fell to his lips, bouncing right back to his eyes when you realized what you did. 
His brows rose by just a fraction, and his gaze shot to your lips, almost like it was instinct. You watched his throat bob, just as breathless as you were, before his eyes flitted back at you again. There was longing in the way he stared at you, so evident and bright in his blue irises. 
“Do you…”
He trailed off, an unsure look painted on his face. 
This was really bad timing, but you were just so swept away. You don’t entirely know what or why, but it was along the lines of wanting to just kiss him—be close to him—or the thrill of just doing it behind everyone’s back.
“I know you want it,” he breathed, regaining his composure.
It was sinful. His voice dropped an octave, reduced to a raw whisper. You didn’t think he meant for it to sound this provocative and straightforward—or did he? You didn’t expect this, especially coming from him of all people. 
It. He knew you wanted it. It wasn’t “I know you want to” but “I know you want it.” And with the way he spoke to you, it could mean a lot of things.
You swallowed the lump that was building in the back of your throat, taking a sidelong glance at the direction your friends were in.
The living room and kitchen were obscured by a wall, with half of it being a kitchen pass-through window. You were standing just to the side of the window, so if anyone looked in, they wouldn’t be able to see you two.
Right out of eyeshot and—hopefully—earshot. 
You felt hands slide onto your waist, slow, delicate, and reluctant. Almost inexperienced, if you could put it that way.
And then you heard footsteps approaching. 
Quickly pushing him away, you whirled around, facing the fridge directly behind you, and opened the doors in an attempt to look busy. The plate of sushi. Right. What you came for in the first place. 
“You’re so obvious, Armin.” 
You stilled for a moment, sushi plate halfway in your hands, because you recognized this voice all too well, even when it was hushed, and after a second too long, you finally processed the words. Wary, unblinking, you turned around, letting the fridge shut on its own.
Eren stopped to bend down and grab a water bottle, eyes locked on you the entire time. 
“What?” Armin gasped.
“I know you like her.” Eren shrugged.
You looked at Armin expectantly, caught off guard by Eren, but you couldn’t see his face from this angle. 
“Do you mean Annie?” you asked. 
Eren was aware of Armin’s crush; that was common knowledge. She was the only person he could possibly be referring to. Unless he was talking about…
You really wanted to know what expression Armin was making, and your confusion only doubled when Eren’s gaze drifted to your form. 
Unless he was talking about you?
“Nothing. You know what.” Eren’s eyes were still on you when he popped open the cap and took a gulp of his water. 
“You could at least keep it down a little…” Armin cautioned, voice low in a whisper. 
A haughty, coy smirk crept up his lips, not directed toward you, but to Armin. “You should at least make a move tonight.” 
He shrugged again and stepped out of the kitchen.
“Um, okay. I will,” Armin answered, so faint it was as if it were to himself.
Eren didn’t spare a glance back. 
You were standing there still clutching onto the cold plate of sushi, focused on the back of his head. “That was weird. Is he in on this?” Your voice dropped to the quietest whisper you could muster. “Does he know about our…”
“No, no,” Armin answered quickly, shaking his head as he turned to you fully. “It’s only between you and me.” 
You muttered an “okay” before you moved past him and into the living room, but as you walked back, you let your head fall in the gutter, and you felt it again now—your heart sinking, stomach churning. The plate was cold under your fingertips, a sensation that brought you back to reality about what just happened. What could’ve happened. 
Your lips pressed together on their own—in some shameful, self-aware way. Because your lips were just a second from being on his.
The living room filled your ears with blurts of cries and cheers of what you assume must be a really competitive game of Mario Kart. You placed the sushi plate onto the table, and someone screamed at you to not block the screen, but Connie was nowhere to be seen.
The seating had changed now: some of your friends had switched around, and the rest were missing.
But that wasn’t important. The only important thing was that someone left the spot next to Eren empty and the spot next to Annie, who moved to the other couch, empty. 
A perfect setup for you and Armin. 
Armin, who you had been getting a little too close to. Who you couldn’t help but want. You wanted him as much as you wanted to help him.
You slid in next to Eren, so naturally and effortlessly that when your thighs and arms met, he wouldn’t have suspected a thing. Because either way, this was normal; you were friends, and that should’ve been enough of a reason for you to be close to him. 
In full swing, Armin followed right after, sitting next to Annie—not touching, but a safe distance between them. And for once, as you put the weird tension aside, you were content for the night. 
As per tradition, Connie put on a movie, all lights turned off. This was the last movie of the night, a “really funny one” as quoted by Connie himself.
Every time you laughed, you immediately self-sabotaged and glanced at the loveseat, where Armin at Annie sat, brushing shoulders, to see if they were laughing, too. And every time, you heard it louder than your own. You were torn between supporting his advancements and indulging this sense of… selfishness.
You felt the same way about Armin as you do with Eren—felt this strange possessiveness. He was your best friend. And seeing him with someone else made you feel a word you didn’t want to think aloud.
Even though it was the whole point of your agreement, Armin was coming to you just to end up with another girl in the end.
They were close now, smushed together because Sasha wedged herself in the other end of the couch, but she wasn’t part of their world. Armin did exactly what you told him, talking lowly in her ear about God knows what.
You were spiraling. You thought of the almost-kiss from last night, the lap incident, the almost-kiss from earlier, and Eren’s odd comment, and you wondered if Armin was affected, too, just as delirious as you were right now.
Eren was lightly snuggled up right beside you and you to him. You had better things to worry about, like enjoying Eren’s closeness. Granted, Mikasa sat on his other side, but you needed to remember she was your best friend, too. 
You turned to talk to Eren, but you were immediately met with green eyes, familiar and watchful. His eyes widened ever-so-minutely, frozen for a second, and flitted to a spot behind you. You didn’t even have to look to know who he was looking at. 
Shit, did he catch you staring?
He leaned into your ear. “What are you doing for the rest of the night?” His voice was a prickle against the skin of your earlobe, all low and husky and warm. 
“Nothing,” you whispered. “Why?” 
“Just asking. We”—he gestured to himself, you, Mikasa, and Armin—“could go somewhere or do something after.”
“It’s midnight.”
“So?”
“I have work in the morning.”
On that cue, the movie ended, music blaring, as the end credits rolled in. Connie had been torturing everyone with movies back-to-back. The kitchen and living room were a scattered, trashy mess of cans and bottles, stacked with empty pizza boxes. 
You stood up and stretched, and several of your friends followed.
Jean had already retreated to his room for the night, and some others had left earlier; you were just one of the stragglers that stayed behind. 
The lights switched on with a flick, and chatter resumed. Judging from the tired sag on everyone’s faces, you knew this was the end of the night. 
Armin was the first to go. “I’m going to head home now. Bye, guys!”
As soon as he finished that sentence, his gaze darted to you for a brief moment. And a little awkward.
You didn’t like this tension between the two of you. But at the same time, you didn’t hate it either.
Your friends said goodbye to him like it was the most casual thing ever, and then he was gone. Seeing him leave early, you felt…sad. Even though he was the one missing out, you felt like you were missing out on him. The movie just ended, but you planned to talk a little more before you left. 
Eren came up from behind you. “So, you don’t want to come to my house? I’m gonna text Armin if he wants to, too.”
You startled before peering at him. As much as you wanted to, and as much of a tempting invitation that was to hear from Eren, you needed rest.
“For what?”
“Late night swim in my pool. Like we all used to.” 
“But I have work,” you sighed. “How about tomorrow?”
He sighed, too. 
“Fine.” 
You helped throw away the main horde of trash, because knowing Connie and Jean, they probably wouldn’t clean it up until the next morning. Or the next. 
The moment you said your goodbyes and closed the door, you were ready to unwind from all of the little things that happened. 
But before you even got to your car, you spotted something. 
Was that Armin’s car? 
From what you saw from his window, Armin only sat there, still and contemplative, reclined against his seat, for a reason you didn’t know except that it was just like him to do so. You wondered why he hadn’t driven off yet.
He must’ve caught your reflection in the side mirror because his shoulders jolted in surprise, and he turned to you with an expression that melted from listlessness to outright relief. The window rolled down, and you greeted him with a smile that he reciprocated a little too quickly. 
“Hey. You left so fast. I still wanted to talk to you,” you said. The scent of his cologne wafted to you in an almost comforting yet overwhelming way, but you ducked down to lean further into it. 
He sat up straight, and his head came closer to yours as a result. “Really?” It was boyish—the way he said it, soft and almost sad. “Then…what are you doing for the rest of the night?”
“Nothing,” you replied. “Going home.”
“Can I come over?” 
You shot him a look of surprise. The skeptical part of your brain was nudging you, asking you how such a good opportunity like this was actually presenting itself to you. But the giddy pounding in your heart was desperate to let something good happen—to resolve this weird magnetism. 
“You want to?” You sucked in a breath. Now you felt bad for saying no to Eren, but you knew that swimming at his house would mess up your sleep schedule even more. “Okay, but you can’t stay for long. I have work in the morning.” 
As long as he stayed for just a little, it’d be fine. 
“Okay.” A flush of pink steadily rose to his cheeks. “Thank you.”
The whole walk back to your car—no, the whole drive back to your apartment, you were reeling in disbelief. Because you knew something was bound to happen and he was going to ask more from you and the kitchen situation from earlier was left unspoken. 
You arrived and piled out of your car. In the distance, he parked and quickly hopped out, jogging to you. 
“Sorry, I hope I’m not bothering you with this. I just…” He trailed off. “What did you want to talk about?”
“Oh yeah, how’d it go with Annie?” 
“It was fine. She’s hard to open up. I think I was just saying the wrong things.”
“No, no, I can tell she’s just a reserved person. Did you take my advice from yesterday?”
“Um, yeah I did. I tried my best, at least, but I felt like I was overly nice.” He chuckled dryly.
“It’s fine. At least you’re one step closer.”
He hummed in response, shrugging, watching you fiddle with your keys in the doorknob. You both got a whiff of warm apartment air as soon as it unlocked. It was dark and empty; your roommate wasn’t returning until tomorrow. 
His hands found purchase in his pockets, eyes looking around idly. “Wow, I haven’t been here in a while.”
“Yeah, sorry. My roommate is always home, and she doesn’t like guests. But she’s not home right now.”  
You immediately curled up into your couch and closed your eyes, sleepiness washing over you like a tide. The cushions dipped beneath your body as Armin took a seat. 
You could fall asleep like this. You’d even let him sleep right here, too.
It was silent for a while. The more it prolonged, the more you started to tense. 
His voice cut through the silence like a knife. “Hey, sorry for earlier. Back at Connie’s. I don’t know what came over me.” 
Your eyes shot open, but you stayed curled up, quiet, because you truthfully didn’t have an answer. This conversation was bound to be brought up. You slowly untangle yourself from your position, sitting up. 
“No,” you denied. “No, I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me either. You don’t have to apologize at all.” An instinctive gulp hit you quickly and forced saliva down your throat, and you were just there, choked up over your choice of words. 
“I—I didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable or anything. That was really unlike me. It’s good that…it was you, at least.” 
Whatever force came over him at that moment…was working. His advances were working. All Armin needed to do was to let that confidence take him over again—to let himself be bold. You shook your head. Neither of you looked at each other—just sitting, talking. And there was something thick and unspoken in the air, resting heavy on your shoulders. 
“Armin, I don’t even know why you need my help. I can already see you in a different…” You backtracked, stepping over your words. It was hard to be transparent without making things weird, to salvage as much friendship as you could. “I mean, whatever you’re doing, it’s working. You seem like you know what you’re doing.”
Armin laughed quietly out of his nose, not out of amusement or mockery, you thought, but relief. “R—Really? I don’t know what I did, it just felt right, bad timing and all,” he said.
“It’s fine. It felt right for me, too. You can do anything—” To me. You stopped. “Um, what I—what I mean is, think of it as an extension of our agreement. We can try anything you want. For educational purposes.” 
You mentally cursed yourself at your horrible attempt at saving yourself as heat rose to your cheeks. Everything you’d been saying sounded like a confession. 
From the corner of your eye, you could vaguely see him dropping his head, face scrunched into a sheepish frown. “Are you sure? What I did wasn’t weird or anything, right?” 
This time, you finally faced him. “If I was uncomfortable that time, I wouldn’t have leaned in…I don’t mind at all.” 
He laughed again, but this time, it rang sweetly, bashfully. “Okay, um, then can we—can we try something?” he stuttered, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed, the certainty leaving his voice as he spoke.
Your heart thumped in your chest as the air surged out of your lungs. You remembered last night, an exact replica of this moment. Dark, late at night, and alone with each other. And he again threw you such a hard request that had your stomach flipping.
Taking in a deep breath, you asked, “What do you want to try?”
He was looking at you now, and God, his eyes were so innocently bright, peering at you with so much eagerness that you wondered if he would always look like this when…
“Teach me how to kiss.” 
It came out in a needy whisper, voice fracturing, as if he said it all in one breath. The tension in your chest burst and blood rushed to your head like a storm. 
It was one thing to just be kissed—to let it flow in the feel of the moment—and another to be asked for it. 
The weight of his words laid on you now, expectant. He came to you for this, and who were you to refuse him?
“S—Sure. We can.” So you shifted closer to him, and you swore the air got heavier, harder to breathe. Your heart felt like it was wrenching itself out of your ribs, beating so hard that it filled your ears. 
His eyes bored into you still, unchanging, glossed over with a look of desire that looked so tempting. The blush on his face darkened when you placed a hand on his face, nearing closer and closer. He was soft under your touch, warm and ablaze as you lightly swiped your thumb across his cheek. 
“Try to match me, okay? We can stop any time.” 
With the final push, you pulled him in. 
Your lips slotted against his, slowly and methodically, like you were both trying to get the feel of things. His lips were soft, pliable, and you could feel their plumpness as you pressed into him, urging him on. He moved hesitantly and gently, slower than you, but somehow matching your pace perfectly and so fittingly. You began feeling lightheaded the wetter the kiss became because you couldn’t believe this was actually happening. 
You could sense his arm reaching around your body, stopping when his hand grabbed your outer thigh, and in one swoop, he pulled you into him, closing the remaining distance between your bodies. Now, your side was pressed up against his, heat radiating off of him, almost scorching you, reminding you of how close you two were—physically and emotionally.
And then you heard shuffling and the quietest, littlest click, like…like he was silencing his phone.
The kiss was still slow and steady, pushing and pulling, and you could tell he was gaining more confidence. Suddenly, he tilted his head further, pushing, which caused a hitch in your breath. His hand found its way to the back of your neck. He was taking the lead now. 
Your face was flushed with heat and your chest was heaving. Lost in the haze, you started lightly sucking on his lips. 
It was like this for a while. Sensual and solid and rhythmic as your lips moved in perfect tempo. He was good. A fast learner that took initiative. 
You didn’t like having to twist your head like this, so with a bated breath, you pulled away and stood up, hoping for the best. Confusion swam blue in his eyes as he watched you move, like a puppy. Cute.
Lifting your knees, you clumsily scrambled onto his lap, hands gripping onto his shoulders. You refrained from sitting too close because too fast, you thought, too fast for the current lesson and too fast for the anticipation already building in your stomach. 
But your plan quickly went out the window because you somehow, somehow, slipped a little too far, inches away from his crotch.
He inhaled sharply as his legs spread wider to support you and his hands instantly grabbed onto the base of your waist. The force of it pushed your shirt up a little, revealing the tiniest sliver of skin. 
This reminded you of when you fell into his lap, except this time, you were straddling both of his legs and facing him, and the feeling was nothing like the adrenaline from before. It was all-consuming with desire and just him him him.
“You’re shaking.” You squeezed his shoulders, but you swore you were shaking, too. “Breathe and relax. It’s just me.”
It was ironic; he was nervous now, when before at Connie’s apartment, he wasn’t.
Armin breathed out a shaky laugh, not daring to meet your eyes but rather on a spot on your neck. “I know. It’s you that makes me nervous.”
You couldn’t fight back the smile that crept up your lips, the beat of your heart, and the warmth that traveled up your cheeks. 
Looking at him, you noticed it now. The feverish tint of red on his cheekbones and the blown-out pupils, eyes lidded and so dark in this lighting that they almost looked gray. You wondered what you looked like to him right now.
His arms unexpectedly wrapped around your waist, tugging you all the way in until your chests and torsos were flushed against each other and your noses touched. He really did it now. 
“Will your roommate be home soon?” 
Oh, that was bold. That was bold because he looked up at you with those eyes and pleaded with that voice. You peeked at the time on your living room clock. Just a little past one in the morning. 
You weren’t getting any sleep soon, you realized. You remembered Eren—remembered how you declined him because it was late, but here you were.
When Armin didn’t receive an answer, he caught you off guard with a tiny peck to your lips. 
You gulped. 
“No.”
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