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moonlinos · 2 months

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It would’ve been sweet if it could’ve been me

♡ Pairing: Bang Chan × fem!reader

♡ Genre: Single dad!Chan, friends to strangers to lovers

♡ CW: Explicit sexual content (minors dni!), mentions of parental guilt, themes of loneliness, Chan is stuck in the past, lying, mentions of feeling lost in life, story spans over a number of years, nipple play, oral sex (male receiving), unprotected sex, creampie

♡ Word count: 8.2k

♡ Synopsis: Being a single dad to Hyerin is all Chan has known for the past four years. He and his ex-girlfriend reached an agreement that saw her going off to live a life she had always dreamed of while he was left with a life of loneliness, which he endured with a smile on his face for his daughter. A small gleam of hope seems to appear in his life in the shape of you. But hiding himself under a haze of lies seems to be his only option if he ever wants to keep you.

♡ A/N: Based off a request by anon! Thank you for requesting, this was so much fun to write 🩷 I will admit this is a lot more focused on Chan as a character than I originally wanted it to be, and I kinda went a bit crazy with the plot, but I hope you still like it! The song Chan sings to Hyerin is Little Star by Standing Egg 💗

Every day in Chan’s life is a monotonous, never-ending cycle. Like watching reruns of bad TV shows on gloomy Sunday nights, every second of his past and upcoming days is etched into his mind like a quilt of mundane tasks and repetitive moments.

But that wasn’t always the case.

Once, excitement filled his every waking moment. His weekends were a whirlwind of new places teeming with bustling crowds and unfamiliar faces who became fast friends. During his university years, he and his friends lived their lives with ardor, savoring every moment as if it could be their last. His days were filled with an array of unplanned parties and impromptu trips which brought a kaleidoscope of color to his life.

Until he met Dana.

He was about to graduate, and she swept into his life like a hurricane — flipping everything upside down before disappearing just as quickly, with only destruction and ashes remaining in her wake.

He was infatuated; she was bored. That was clear from the start, but Chan was too blinded by affection to be concerned with such a minute detail. So long as he got to have her by his side, he was happy. Their relationship lasted a year, yet it changed his life forever.

He was twenty-one when Dana announced her pregnancy. On his twenty-second birthday, she told him she didn’t want to be a mother.

By that point in his life, Chan had already forsaken everything he had for her. He turned his back on his old friends, the vibrant life he once led, and everything that once made him who he was. Without Dana, he would be left with nothing but the ugly reflection of his self-destructive choices made in the name of a loveless love.

And so, they came to an agreement. Dana would leave — that had been her plan from the start, anyway — but she would leave Chan with a small piece of their story.

Hyerin was born on November 20th, 2019.

Dana left on a plane to New York City on December 1st.

Now, the only speck of color in his life is Hyerin. In the four years Chan has been lucky enough to be her dad, he has found she is much more than simply a reminder of Dana or what could have been between them. Hyerin is his entire world. She is the love he’s unknowingly been searching for his whole life, and he would sacrifice every last bit of himself to make sure she only ever knows happiness.

They live a quiet life, with Chan working a less-than-fulfilling corporate job and spending all his free time with her. He sometimes allows himself to wonder what happened to his old friends — did they all eventually settle for the mundanity of adult life, or are they still chasing an endless thrill? But he never dwells on it too much. The sweet memories of his early twenties are now nothing more than a comforting escape when the weight of loneliness becomes too overwhelming.

Today is one of those days. A late Friday night after his shift, Chan sprawled on his couch with Jisung, a co-worker who became his first friend after many years, a silly smile on his face as he reminisced about a trip to Jeju in his sophomore year of college. This is how he lives most of his life; when he’s not in the present with Hyerin, he’s stuck in the past.

How could he not be stuck in the past? So many people he loved and memories he cherished were there.

“I don’t get how you just left all of that behind for someone,” Jisung scoffs, loosening his tie. “Why couldn’t she just join your group of friends?”

“It’s complicated,” Chan sighs, eyes wandering toward Hyerin’s bedroom door for the umpteenth time to make sure she’s still sleeping soundly. When he turns to look back at Jisung, his expression prompts him to elaborate. “What? You want the whole story?”

Jisung shrugs. “It’s not like we have any other plans for tonight.”

“Well, there was this girl in my friend group. We hooked up a lot, but our relationship went beyond that,” Chan explains, fingers tapping his thighs as the memories flood his mind. It was a sore topic, one he certainly didn’t enjoy remembering. “We never dated, but Dana was jealous, and I couldn’t blame her. Me and this girl were… very close. I couldn’t be in a relationship while also being that close to her, but I also couldn’t imagine us being only friends. So it was easier to walk away.”

Chan conveniently leaves out the fact that he walked away because an artificial love strangely provided solace for his heart, unlike the searing torment of unrequited love, which engulfed him like molten lava.

“And that was the last time you ever had that type of relationship with anyone?”

“With Dana? Yeah—”

“Hyung, you know what I mean. You told me yourself Dana didn’t love you,” Jisung points out. “I mean this other girl.”

Chan shrugs dismissively. “I guess, yeah. Doesn’t matter, though.”

And Jisung scoffs loudly at his words, rubbing his forehead with a sigh. Memories of that love flood Chan’s mind, and he's ready to let them sweep him away when Jisung abruptly turns so he sits facing him, resolve swimming in his eyes.

“Give me your phone,” his loud voice reverberates through the small apartment, prompting Chan to shush him with a stern look. “Give me your phone,” Jisung repeats himself with a harsh whisper.

Chan rolls his eyes but ultimately smiles at his friend. He retrieves his phone from the end table, handing it to a much too enthusiastic Jisung. “The password is Hyerin’s birthday,” he tells him, albeit a bit apprehensive.

He watches amusedly as Jisung types away at his own phone before doing the same on his, handing him the device with a grin tugging at the corner of his lips.

“What did you do, you little menace?” Chan questions the younger boy, narrowing his eyes. Jisung simply shrugs.

“I got you a date tomorrow. Thank me later.”

Chan immediately sits up on the couch, eyes darting toward his phone screen. A chat with a single message from him to an unknown contact makes him question his entire friendship with Jisung.

Me: I’m your date for tomorrow 😉

Me: O’neul restaurant, 6 pm. See you there, cutie

“Jisung, what the fuck?”

“What?” His friend asks between giggles. “Sora has this friend she said desperately needs a date, and I have you in the same situation,” he explains, clearly proud of himself. “I just did you both a favor while also getting boyfriend points.”

Chan’s eyes shift toward his phone once more, inwardly cringing at the messages with a heavy sigh.

“And was making me sound this creepy necessary?”

Jisung waves his hand dismissively. “Nah, that was just a little treat for me.”

“And why the fuck is her name Mystery Girl?” Chan queries, the irritation making him unknowingly raise his voice.

“It’s a blind date,” his friend explains. “This girl’s apparently super picky, kept turning down every guy Sora suggested. So, she came up with this solution. Can’t turn you down if she doesn’t know what you look like.”

Chan groans, ultimately sinking back onto the couch with a defeated sigh. Jisung was trying to be a good friend, he knew that, but he wasn’t at all thrilled with the prospect of a date. Not only did he not want one, but he also had no time for such a futile thing. He had Hyerin, and she was the sole reason for his existence. He didn’t need anyone meddling in their little world. But he didn’t have the courage to tell Jisung that.

It would be a lie to say the past four years weren’t lonesome. Falling asleep alone in a cold, empty bed was a sorrow he had simply grown numb to. Yet, he still yearned to have someone to share the grapples of routine life with, someone whose presence alone would effortlessly diminish his worries, someone he could make love to before falling asleep and waking up intertwined.

But he couldn’t afford to have that.

At least this date was bound to fail; the woman’s demanding nature, coupled with Chan’s unwillingness to even be there in the first place sure to make their wasted time brief.

Just as he’s about to grumble about the messages again, Hyerin comes stumbling out of her room, her small feet shuffling against the floor as she rubs her sleepy eyes.

“Oh, honey, were we being too loud?” Chan asks sweetly, and his eyes discreetly shoot daggers at Jisung, who mouths an apology.

Hyerin firmly shakes her head, the crooked pigtails Chan clumsily had tied this morning coming undone as she does so. He smiles at her, propping his elbows on his knees and waiting for her to speak her little mind.

“I had a dream,” she mumbles. “With a dragon.”

Chan gasps, hands wrapping around her tiny frame and picking her up before walking toward her room. It took him some time, but he ultimately learned that it’s best to ease her back into bed while she’s distracted, lest she throws a tantrum.

“And was it a nice dragon?” He asks. Hyerin giggles, and Chan is positive that the sound has the power to light up even his most somber days.

“Of course it was a nice dragon, daddy,” she tells him. “You said I only have nice dreams ‘cause my mind is pretty, remember?”

Chan nods as he gently tucks her back into bed, triple-checking that she is comfortable and warm. “Of course, of course. How could I forget?” He slaps a hand on his forehead with a sigh. “Hyerinnie has the prettiest mind. It can only make up pretty things.”

Hyerin smiles at him, tugging her blanket close to her chin, her doe eyes already heavy with sleep and blinking languidly. Chan asks her the same question he does every night, although the answer remains unchanging every time: would she like him to sing to her? She drowsily tells him she wants to hear him sing her favorite song, Little Star.

Chan promptly gets under the covers beside her — Hyerin pouting and whining about how he’s stealing her blanket for himself, to which he can’t help the hearty laugh that escapes his lips. Since turning four, she’s developed quite a strong personality that Chan soon finds he adores, much like everything about her.

He turns on his side to watch her features as he sings; her nose and mouth so similar to his, and the way she furrows her brows while falling asleep mirrors his own habits. Chan might not be a happy man in his job or his personal life, but the boundless happiness his little gift provides him surpasses anything else he could wish for. Every now and then, he finds himself wanting more, but it’s not long before he realizes he already has everything he needs.

Chan goes over his rather extensive list of how to care for Hyerin with Jisung for the tenth time that evening, making sure the younger man knows what to do in any situation that could arise in the couple hours he’ll be gone. Hyerin is the one to usher him out of the apartment, assuring him she’ll be fine with her uncle Han, and Chan has to stop himself from wallowing over the fact that his once tiny baby is rapidly blossoming into a young kid.

He made no real effort to dress for his date; a simple button-up shirt and jeans served him just fine, seeing as he plans to return home as soon as possible. His date and he haven’t talked much at all since his initial texts yesterday, texting each other only to confirm the time and place of their basically forced date.

He arrives fifteen minutes late, all but running from the bus stop to the restaurant while cursing Jisung under his breath. This was definitely not worth the hassle, and Chan wanted nothing more than to be back at home with his daughter. He’d pick watching Tangled with her for the hundredth time over an unwanted date in a heartbeat.

Chan finally walks into the restaurant, informing the waiter that he’s there to meet Cherry. His face visibly grimaces as he mutters the words. Fuck this blind date bullshit.

He’s led to his table, dragging his feet behind the waiter. His attention is immediately drawn to the pencil holding his date’s messy ponytail together. He chuckles quietly, circling around the table and forcing out a smile to introduce himself.

But then he’s met with a sight he had long given up hope of ever seeing again: you.

You, who were next to him as he made stupid decisions during college. Like when he drunkenly thought it wise to bet his laptop in a game of beer pong.

You, who always made him your special hangover soup after a party. He especially loved it when you let him keep the leftovers, knowing that he and his roommate were hopeless in the kitchen.

You, who filled the space in his cold sheets with warmth and always made his bed feel like a sanctuary.

You, who let him make love to you despite you both swearing to be only friends.

You, who later had to watch him walk away from you like a coward, driven by sheer fear.

You, staring back at him with a stunned look on your face.

“Chan?” You ask, an unsure lilt to your words.

And Chan embarrassingly fumbles over his words, his tongue tying itself into knots in front of you. He notices you pursing your lips to stop from giggling and clears his throat a bit too loudly, a few patrons turning their heads to look at him. But he can’t bring himself to care, not when it seems the universe has turned the wheels of his fate in his favor for once.

“Uh, hi,” is all his brain can muster among the jumble of thoughts inside his head. He mentally berates himself for acting so damn awkward when you’re clearly not as affected by this encounter as he is.

“Damn, it’s been so long,” you marvel, eyes not leaving his face for a second. “I thought you moved to a different country or something. It’s so strange how we never ran into each other.”

Chan forces out a chuckle, hands now fiddling with the menu on the table. Of course you two never ran into each other; he only ever leaves the house for work or when he has to accompany Hyerin, and he doubts you frequent playgrounds or zoos.

“Yeah, I… don’t go out much anymore,” he simply says.

You hum, and he properly takes in your appearance. You haven’t changed one bit; from your hair to your choice of clothes, you’re still the same girl who ruled over his every thought during college.

You two order your food and fall into an infuriating cycle of small talk. Chan doesn’t want to talk about the weather or if you have seen the latest movie yet — he’s desperate to ask you how you’ve been, if you ever pursued your dreams, if you can still outdrink anyone in your friend group, and—

And if you’re still single because you find relationships a hassle.

But as the food arrives, you fall into an even more frustrating cycle: silence. Chan feels restless, squirming in his seat every few minutes while you calmly eat and watch the people around you. He remembers your habit of scanning crowded rooms and making up stories for strangers with your vivid imagination. He wants to ask if you still do that, but it seems he’s only grown into more of a coward since your last encounter.

You’re the first to break the silence, waiting for the waiter to leave with your plates to ask what Chan has been doing since graduating. It’s a casual question with no weight to your words, as lighthearted as you have always been. And the complete opposite of his every possible answer.

How can he tell you he’s given up music altogether, now surrounded by gray walls and lifeless faces in his corporate job? How can he tell you he’s alone most of the time, partly by choice and partly because he doesn’t know how to dig himself out of this comfortable hole he’s trapped himself in?

How can he possibly explain that he agreed to be a single father, sacrificing his own happiness for the selfish whims of a woman who never even loved him?

You’re still the same; the same carefree eyes and attitude, same easygoing approach to everything life throws your way — such as meeting him again after years.

All of him has changed.

Chan can’t tarnish your colorful life, can’t sit before you and spill out his problems or grumble about the overwhelming loneliness in his life when he knows damn well that was a consequence of his own choices.

He wants nothing more than to be the same Chan he was in college. Creating life stories for strangers in dive bars with you, not caring about whether he’ll have enough money to pay the water bill next month, not having to bear the burden of something as precious as a human life depending solely on him.

It’s selfish, but he wants nothing more than to go back.

So he does.

“I actually still write songs, though it’s only a freelance thing,” he lies. He hasn’t written a single note in years. “Other than that, I’ve just been taking it day by day. Same as I’ve always done, I guess.”

And your eyes immediately light up — you’ve always loved his songs, after all. Your conversation flows much like it used to in the past after that, with you making witty jokes and Chan laughing loudly at them. You tell him you started working as an art teacher for the elderly when living off of commissions became impossible, and that you adore the stories they share about their younger years. They remind you of your own stories together, you admit with a genuine smile.

Your conversation is endless, continuing even as Chan walks you to your car in the empty parking lot. The night has grown colder, and the crescent moon gleaming in the sky above him almost feels like a sign that things will change for the better.

As you two stand in front of your car, a smile tugs at the corner of your lips. Ever the free soul, you ask him outright if he would like to come back to your place. There are no further implications hidden in your request beyond a hookup. Nothing’s ever heavy with you, every little thing always feeling light as a feather.

He says he would love to, but quickly excuses himself under the guise of calling his roommate about the spare key. Chan hurriedly calls Jisung as soon as he turns a corner in the parking lot, ensuring you won’t be able to hear him. It’s juvenile, the way he’s actually taking pleasure in almost creating a different version of himself — a version much closer to who he was when you were his, at least in some sense of the word. He’s a father, he should be responsible and dependable, but the weight of that role had been thrust upon him far too abruptly. He can’t be faulted for wanting to go back in time.

“Okay, I have no time to explain,” he blurts out as soon as Jisung picks up the phone. “Would it be too much to ask you to stay the night?”

Jisung chuckles at the other end of the line. “Damn, was the date that good?”

Chan ignores his sly comment, because yes, the date was everything he never thought it could be.

“I’ll be back first thing in the morning,” he assures him. “I’ll even pay you if you want. How much—”

“Hey, no need for that,” Jisung cuts him off. “You know I love looking after Hyerin.”

And the pang of guilt inside his chest at the mention of his daughter’s name almost knocks the air out of his lungs. He feels ashamed, as if he’s neglecting his daughter for a hookup, going after a fantasy that has long crumbled and faded away.

“How is she? Is she okay?” He asks, guilt washing over him like a wave. He hadn’t thought of his daughter for a second that entire night. “Did she cry at all? Did she notice I was gone for longer than I promised?”

Jisung calls out his name with a chuckle, prompting him to stop his rambling. “Relax. We painted each other’s nails, she did my makeup, had her dinner, and is now sleeping soundly after listening to another one of uncle Han’s phenomenal stories about frogs,” He details, causing a hearty laugh to fall from Chan’s lips at the image of Jisung’s face painted with Hyerin’s cheap children’s makeup. His friend then adds, “Go get laid, man.”

And so Chan hangs up the phone, all but running toward your figure waiting by your car. You smile at him, taking his hand and pulling him into a tight embrace. It’s the first time he holds you in almost five years, and he feels his dull world away from Hyerin slowly fill up with vibrant hues.

It takes you less than fifteen minutes to reach your apartment building, and Chan is thanking any higher power that might listen for that. The sheer anticipation of what is implied to happen once you two are alone together has him picking at his cuticles until it stings.

He’s nervous, to put it lightly. A couple of terrible drunken hookups in dingy motels after office gatherings were his only sexual encounters after Hyerin was born.

But once you’re standing in front of him in your living room, your eyes never leaving his even as you’re slipping off your heels, Chan knows you’re both equals in this playing field.

He’s the one to pull you into a kiss, lips barely grazing against yours. But the feeling of finally kissing you again after so many years was like wildfire, consuming him wholly until the kiss turns feverish. His hand travels from your shoulders to your lower back, pulling you flush against his body. You hum against his lips, fingers clumsily undoing his buckle, and the prospect that you might be as eager as he is has him gripping the fabric of your dress.

Chan swears his vision goes black the moment your fingertips brush against his hardening erection, the feathery touch enough to make him sigh into your mouth.

A hand is pressed to his chest before he has the chance to think, and you’re pushing him backward until his back meets the wall. You immediately drop to your knees in front of him, leaning forward and nuzzling your face against his clothed cock.

“I missed you,” you whisper, hungry eyes looking up at him. “Don’t think I got to say that.”

Chan takes in the sight of you, memorizing and storing it in his mind alongside the countless images he already had of you on his knees for him. His fingers thread in your hair, your lips falling open with a sigh.

“I missed you too,” he professes. You have no idea how much.

With a smile, you quickly work his zipper open, pulling his jeans down his legs and pressing a wet kiss to his clothed erection. Chan feels your tongue lap at his member through his boxers, lips sucking around the head as your nails scrape the flesh of his thighs lightly.

It feels like you mouth at his length for hours, the light gray fabric of his boxers stained with your saliva and his precum, leaving Chan panting and tugging at your hair. You trail soft, wet kisses down his thigh while pushing his boxers out of your way, his cock already swollen and flushed. He’d be embarrassed for the way his body reacted so responsively to you if you weren’t also visibly as affected.

Your tongue circles his length languidly, lapping at a small bead of precum with a hum. Finally wrapping your lips around his tip, your tongue flicks teasingly beneath the head of his cock, Chan sucking in a deep breath and using his grip on your hair as leverage to pull you toward him. You almost obediently drop your jaw to slide his now fully hardened length into your mouth, your hand wrapping around the base as you begin to bob your head up and down his cock. Chan hisses your name when you relax your throat after a few passes, taking him fully into your pretty mouth, your nose brushing his pelvis.

“Fuck, you always looked so pretty like that,” Chan chokes out. “Pretty lips taking me so well.”

You groan at his words and the vibrations traveling along his shaft have Chan growling with a harsh tug of your hair, causing you to sputter as his cock hit the back of your throat. You seek purchase in his hips as tears prick the corner of your eyes. You’re unrelenting nonetheless, circling your tongue around him before pulling away, hands now sliding up his thigh before gently gliding over his balls. As you slowly lick from the base of his shaft all the way up to the sensitive tip, Chan’s gaze shifts down as he catches a glimpse of your thighs rubbing together. He feels himself twitch, and immediately pulls you away from him.

“Don’t wanna come like this, I need to fuck you,” he rasps out.

You stand back up, legs wobbly, and fumble with the buttons of his shirt while he slides your dress down your shoulders. Your movements are messy and filled with urgency, your breaths quickening as you both want nothing more than to strip away any form of barrier between you. Piling up five years of yearning will do that.

As your impatience reaches its peak, you tear open the last remaining buttons of his shirt, your nails grazing his skin as you slide the fabric down his shoulders. A wave of goosebumps travels across Chan’s body, and his hands abandon the task of removing your dress in favor of tracing the curve of your ass before picking you up off the floor.

“First door on the right,” you tell him, your words answering his unspoken thoughts as if you could read his mind. Chan nods, your proximity making it impossible for him not to press his lips to yours, tongue sliding over your bottom lip before licking into your mouth with a low hum.

He collides with a wall, missing the entrance to your bedroom by a hair’s breadth, and you giggle against his lips. Chan smiles back. Nothing’s ever heavy with you.

He lowers you onto the bed gently, his body instinctively slotting between your spread legs the way he did so many times before. You soon also wrap your thighs around his waist as you always did, pulling him closer until his cock is pressed up against your clothed pussy.

“Wanna ride you,” you tell him, grinding your hips forward and eliciting a quiet moan from Chan’s lips as he hastily nods. With a tight grip on your waist, he flips you both effortlessly.

Promptly sitting up on his thighs, you finally rid yourself of the inconvenient fabric of your dress, followed by your bra, your nipples instantly hardening. Chan sits up, eyes transfixed on your chest as his calloused thumbs trace the nubs before his lips circle around one, sucking harshly. As you gently roll your hips, he can feel the way your soaked panties cling to his skin as your core presses up against his thigh.

Your fingers tangle in his hair with a whimper, pushing his face into your breasts as he bites the sensitive skin. His lips leave your nipples with a wet sound, then trailing kisses up the column of your neck until his gaze is locked on yours again. He was dying to mark you, bite and suck on your skin until it blossomed into a beautiful maroon — but he knew better. You weren’t twenty anymore, and you weren’t his; in no sense of the word.

“I’m on the pill,” you tell him, eyes heavy with lust.

And he knows this is a terrible idea. This was exactly how he came to be a father.

But it’s not his mind that’s doing the thinking, and so he nods, his grip on your hips tightening as you pull your soaked panties to the side just enough to slide the swollen tip of his cock against your slick folds. Chan sucks in a breath, fighting a war against his own body not to come from this feeling alone. It wasn’t just how long it had been since he was with someone, it was you. It was all you. The effect you had always had on him having never faded, simply laying dormant until his body had you again.

Chan rests his forehead on yours as you slowly sink down on his length. His lips find your neck again, gently sucking the skin into his mouth as you slowly grind down on him, a whine falling from your lips and going straight to his cock. His hips buck up unwittingly, causing you to moan loudly in his ears. But your slow pace remains, and Chan knows he should savor this moment, but he wants nothing more than to fuck you into the mattress until he forgets every minor issue aggravating his brain.

Such as the fact that he knows you will leave his life again the second you find out he lied to you.

So his hands find your waist and he flips you down onto the mattress once more. His eyes bore into you as you suck in a breath.

“Fuck me,” you plead, hips grinding into his cock again. “I want it, please—”

Chan doesn’t waste another second, retreating only to plunge back harshly into your cunt. He moves with deep strokes, hips falling into an erratic rhythm, your nails digging into his back as your thighs clenched around his waist. All he can hear is static and your choked moans as he presses you into the mattress.

“Missed this so fucking much,” he groans against your ear. And finally succumbing to his desires, he bends down to suck and nibble on the delicate skin of your neck, mind too focused on how your walls squeeze around him to worry about marking you. He laps at the small bruises he leaves behind, your fingers tangling in his hair as you mewl.

You roll your hips, matching his rhythm, and Chan feels a familiar heat rise within him. He reaches down to glide small circles around your clit, your body jolting and squirming. He absentmindedly smiles against your skin.

After an entire night of pretending his life was the same as it was five years ago, fucking you required no acting.

“It’s too much, fuck,” you whimper, tugging him by the hair until your lips are crashing together in a sloppy kiss. Your walls tighten around him, body clenching as the tension finally snaps, your orgasm coursing through your shaking body as Chan growls into your parted lips.

He keeps fucking into you, until his hips meet yours one last time, and a low groan reverberates through the room. His cock twitches inside of you as his body stills, filling you with his warm release which leaked out of you and onto your sheets as he pulled out with a sigh.

Chan throws himself onto the mattress, labored breaths leaving his heavy lungs. He pulls you into his arms, and you melt into his embrace as if it were a habit. It’s as though he’s gone back in time, even if temporarily.

He feels like he’s simply a guy making love with the girl he adores in the familiar comfort of his dorm room again.

When the first rays of sunlight seeped into your room, Chan was already awake. He watched as you slept, eyelids fluttering and a small smile adorning your lips.

It was as if you were his, in every sense of the word.

Guilt.

That’s what Chan feels every time he sees Hyerin’s laughing face on his phone’s wallpaper when he’s out, entertaining the silly lie he crafted.

It’s been two months since you reconnected and you effortlessly slipped him back into your life. The reunion with his old friends was expected — but Chan dreaded it, regardless. He found that out of the nine people that once comprised their group, only five remained. He wasn’t the only one who had gone his own way.

But he was the only one who had done it in the worst way possible, carelessly ghosting every single one of them, hoping his existence gradually faded from their memories.

That made facing his once best friend frightening. Minho was the first friend he made on the very first day of university, when Chan walked into his dorm room only to find he had snuck his cat into the building.

They were roommates for two years, and best friends for four. Chan complained loudly when he was assigned a new roommate. Minho was silent as he watched his best friend turn his back on him with no explanation.

Minho initially ignored him entirely, and Chan doesn’t fault him. When his vibrant face turned cold upon seeing him walk into a bar, Chan knew he earned that the moment he decided to ignore his friend’s every text message and phone call. When Minho made backhanded remarks about how nice it felt to have him back in their group, he knew he deserved it for not answering the door the only time his friend came looking for him.

It takes a drunken argument leading to a fist colliding with Chan’s cheek for Minho to finally address him. It takes them being escorted out of the bar by security for them to finally have a conversation, tears and resentment flowing freely as they sat at a bus stop late at night. After that, their friendship returned to what it was before, as if they had never been apart even for a second.

Despite the years and the changes, Minho was still his best friend — which was why he was the only person he came clean to.

Hyerin loved Minho, especially his cats. Her new favorite pastime quickly became going over to his house to play with her new ‘friends’, as she called them. And Chan was overwhelmed with happiness to witness his best friend falling under his daughter’s spell — his house now containing its very own box filled with every toy Hyerin mentioned even once, his kitchen stocked with all her favorite foods, and his cats falling asleep beside her anytime they came over to visit.

It was as if he was watching his two worlds collide. His past and present, which he had separated out of a senseless fear, intertwined so effortlessly it made him feel stupid for ever thinking he needed to build this barrier. For assuming the people he loved so much would reject him.

Made him feel even worse for walking away in a futile attempt to protect his feelings, because it only resulted in more hurt.

After so much of his time spent wondering, Chan finally has the answer to his questions. Some of his friends did settle for an ordinary adult life, some already married and some focusing their energy solely on climbing the corporate ladder. Still, some remained relatively unchanged — much like you did.

His social life blossomed again after reconnecting with his old friends. However, he still refused to hire a nanny, too fearful to leave Hyerin to a stranger’s care, resulting in constantly having to come up with excuses when his parents aren’t able to babysit. He won’t deny that he often fabricated these lies purely because staying in with his daughter and watching Tangled now outweighs any appeal of noisy nightclubs.

Jisung remained his salvation whenever he wanted to spend the night at your place, with Chan slowly but surely running out of reasons as to why you can’t go to his apartment for a change. He hasn’t had the heart or the courage to tell you the entire truth yet, only owning up to his lie about his job after you understandably asked him to listen to his new music and he was put on the spot.

Ever since you walked back into his life, he finds himself weaving a web of little white lies that slowly chip away at his heart.

He’s at a small gathering for his friend’s birthday, listening to Minho all but eulogize his fiancee. They have been a couple since university, Chan playing the wingman and encouraging his friend to finally do something about his crush (mostly because he couldn’t handle any more of Minho’s whining before going to sleep). Despite what everyone around them surmised, they beat all the odds and statistics and stayed together even after university. Chan would be happier about that if he hadn’t bet money on them breaking up before graduation. He wonders if Hongjoong will ask for his twenty bucks now that they’re friends again.

“No, really, settling down with someone is so good,” Minho says after another shot of Soju, a silly smile etched onto his lips. “I thought I would hate it, y’know? Thought slapping such a significant title on our relationship would wear it down, but it’s the complete opposite. Ever since she proposed, it’s like we’re two love-struck nineteen-year-olds again.”

Chan smiles, saying they should drink to that purely because he hopes the sensation of alcohol burning his throat will numb his overwhelming jealousy. After congratulating Minho for the umpteenth time, he finds himself listening to yet another story about his relationship.

And he’s happy for Minho, just as much as he’s happy for Wonwoo for getting married last year. He couldn’t express the overwhelming joy he felt upon discovering these people, who once meant so much to him, had successfully navigated their way through life. But envy rears its ugly head every time he listens to one of their stories, because Chan’s direction in life seems to be a winding road. He’s a father, and his love for Hyerin is immeasurable, but he’s still actively lying about this side of him simply because he feels as if maybe he made the right choices in life at the worst possible time.

As he’s walking out of Hongjoong’s apartment with you later that night, he wraps an arm around your waist, a smile spreading across his face when you nestle closer to him. You two discuss Wonwoo’s marriage, with you talking about how beautiful the ceremony was, but ultimately scowling at the mere thought of getting married. Chan feels the corner of his heart crack at your words, but he laughs it off.

“Do you think he wants kids?” he wonders aloud.

He expects you to laugh at his sudden curiosity. He doesn’t expect you to dig at the fissure in his heart with your words, causing it to shatter completely.

“Gosh, it’d be so weird to see.” You cringe, snuggling deeper into his arms as a chilly breeze brushes against you two. “I like kids, but I’d never have them myself. Feel like it’d kinda ruin my life.”

Chan feels his grip on your waist loosen.

“Having kids doesn’t ruin your life,” he reasons. “You’re given the chance to care for something so precious, so important to this world…” he trails off, shaking his head and taking a step away from you. It feels as if exasperation has filled his entire being. “You look into their eyes and see yourself, and it’s— the love you feel when you first see them is so pure and earth-shattering that you can’t think of anything but how to make that tiny being only experience the good in the world. It doesn’t ruin your life.”

You eye him with confusion, cocking your head to the side and huffing out a laugh. “You talk like you know what that’s like. If you ever have kids one day, then you’ll know—”

“But I do know,” he’s yelling before he can stop himself, his footsteps coming to a halt. “I know because I have that. I have that and it’s the most precious thing in my life and yet I’ve been taking it for granted. And for what?”

He scoffs bitterly, his gaze fixing on your features; your flushed cheeks and slightly smudged lipstick, the way your puzzled eyes gleam under the moonlight. He shakes his head.

“For childish illusions. The illusion that I could go back in time if I pretended hard enough, the illusion that this romanticized idea I have of my early twenties was superior to the life I have now,” Chan lets out a heavy breath, averting his gaze to the pavement. “The illusion that I could ever have you.”

“So it’s my fault you chose to lie about being a dad?” You blurt out.

He doesn’t lift his head. He can’t, the burden of guilt and shame weighing too heavily on his shoulders for him to face you.

“It’s my fault. You were simply the catalyst.”

“What do you even mean?”

“I mean I’ve always felt this way,” he exasperates, finally lifting his head but keeping his gaze anywhere but on you. He’s a coward. “I’ve always felt like maybe I was too young to be a dad, too immature to fully understand the consequences of the choices I made. I don’t regret my daughter, but I certainly regret the timing, and this haunts me every day. Meeting you again just made these feelings worse because you represent everything about my past that I no longer have.”

You remain quiet for a beat, but it feels like an eternity as Chan is forced to endure the deafening ring of your silence.

When you finally speak, your voice is unsteady. “You know, that’s why I always figured it was for the best that you left.”

“What?” Chan turns his gaze toward your face at last, your words stomping on his scattered heart one last time. He expects anger, but sorrow has taken over your expression, one so heavy he doesn’t recall a single moment in the years he’s known you where he’s seen you like this.

“You were always like this, Chan. You might think you were a different person back then, but you said it yourself,” you shrug with a sullen chuckle. “It’s only an illusion.”

He hums, nodding his head as it dawns on him. “You were never gonna be mine, were you? No matter what I did. I lied to you because I thought you would never want someone like who I am today. But I guess that was all in vain, ‘cause I’ve always been like this.”

“You always talked about getting married, settling down, having kids.” As you run a hand through your hair, an exasperated sigh falls from your lips. “You went along with our bullshit, but even back then, you were always like the dad of our group. This has always been you, Chan, but that’s not a bad thing. Don’t think you need to change or lie about who you are ‘cause you’re the most amazing man I’ve ever met, but…”

He scoffs. “But?”

“But we’re too different. We’ve always been. We’re great together in every way but the way you want us to be — the way I would love for us to be as well,” you simply say, offering him a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes.

“And would it kill you if we tried? ‘Cause this unfulfilled hope has been killing me since I first fell in love with you.”

“What’s her name?” You simply ask, avoiding his question altogether. Chan furrows his brows. “Your daughter, what’s her name?”

He shifts on his feet. “Hyerin.”

“I hope she knows how lucky she is to have you as a dad.”

Chan shakes his head. “I’m far from the perfect father.”

“Good,” you state matter-of-factly. “Perfect wouldn’t be you.”

You fall into a much lighter silence, although it’s still far from comfortable. A swarm of questions fills Chan’s mind, but his words fade into silence and die on his lips.

He knows everything is over when you suck in a sharp breath, muttering, “I can’t be what you need. When love becomes too serious, I feel trapped and run away. You know what that’s like,” you trail off. “I know we loved each other back then, and I know I still love you now, but I think it’s my turn to walk away. I’m sorry, Chan.”

And just like that, he’s left to watch your figure slowly grow smaller and smaller as you fade into the dimly lit street. You don’t reprimand him for lying or question if he also loves you still. You don’t explain why you can’t make an effort, probably because you’re unsure of the answer yourself. It turns out you both remained unchanged.

And after all this time, it’s only then that Chan realizes you were always just as lost as he was.

Chan didn’t allow himself to think much about you since he watched you walk away that night. He missed you often, as he had done for so long before your last encounter, but he had long grown numb to that feeling.

In the two years he was apart from you for the second time, he learned that life isn’t black or white. He could be a father while also being his own person; a son, a friend, a boyfriend. He learned that prioritizing Hyerin didn’t mean neglecting himself, as that would negatively impact her as well. She couldn’t only know happiness if her father was always dripping with sadness.

He learned he doesn’t have to choose between who he is now and who he was at twenty years old; they were both him, with certain moments bringing out glimpses of one or the other.

Hyerin started elementary school and is blossoming into a caring little girl, no longer needing Chan to tie her pigtails in the morning or remind her to brush her teeth before bed. Although she still demands that they maintain their nightly routine of lying together until she falls asleep to the sound of his voice singing her favorite song.

During his first parent-teacher conference — after walking into the classroom fifteen minutes late — he’s stunned to see you sitting across from him yet again, a pencil holding up your ponytail the same way it did that night at the restaurant. He couldn’t help the smile that spread on his lips.

You were Hyerin’s teacher. He recalled picking her up after her first day of school and listening to her gush over the art teacher who was so pretty and nice, and talking about how she wanted to be like her when she grows up.

It felt as if you were destined to find each other every time one of you chose to walk away.

Your friendship picked up again slowly this time — no rushing into bed together and no rushing into long overdue serious conversations. They had already been avoided for years, anyway, they could wait a bit longer. This is exactly what you needed; patience. Chan had never had the patience to wait for you, while you never had the patience to understand your own feelings.

It’s been ten months now, and he’s yet again sitting before you. The teachers and parents converse around you both as you sit in silence. When you think no one is watching, you exchange glances, struggling to suppress the silly smiles that insist on spreading across your faces.

As people leave the room one by one after the meeting, Chan approaches you.

“You’re Bang Hyerin’s father, correct?” You speak with a grin.

“Correct.”

“She’s an amazing kid,” you tell him.

He smiles, shifting his gaze toward his feet before his eyes find yours again as you speak.

“We could grab a coffee this weekend.”

This time, there are further implications hidden in your request. You’re not asking as a friend, like you’ve been doing these past months. Some things are heavy with you now, and this is something he’s only recently come to find. He’s also come to find that he loves that change.

So he answers, “Sure. Tomorrow at three?”

“Then I’m your date for tomorrow,” you say with a giggle. “See you there, cutie.”

And Chan lets out a hearty laugh at that, which earns him a scolding look from the other teachers in the room.

He isn’t sure what will come of this. Maybe you two are better off as friends and all it will take is a couple of months to figure that out. Maybe time has changed you both more than he can understand, and you will finally be able to try something real after all these years of unfulfilled hopes and childish illusions.

Either way, Chan knows he won’t let go of you this time.

He wants you to be his, in any sense of the word.

♡ taglist: @bloom-ings, @linocz, @farahia, @mirbokk, @jisunglyricist, @jazziwritesthings, @seungseung-minmin, @yourcvndx, @hynjinnnnnnnie @vlctorriaa @yongbokkiesworld

#stray kids #bang chan smut #skz smut #stray kids x reader #bang chan x reader #bang chan #bang chan x you #stray kids smut #skz #bangchan smut #bangchan x reader #bangchan x you

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pedrohub · 2 months

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Pedro Pascal wins 'Male TV Star of the Year' at the 2024 People's Choice Awards for The Last Of Us (source)

#pedro pascal #people's choice awards #video

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thewaythisis · 2 months

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Male TV Star of the Year - People’s Choice Awards

#pedro pascal #pedropascaledit #ppascaledit #ppedit #people’s choice awards

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eclairsnme · 9 months

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♡ POV: Being The Itoshi Brother’s Elder Sister ♡

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3

The troubles of an Idol.

tags: idol!you, crack comedy, reunion, familial love, sfw, somewhat of a brat (⁎⁍̴̛ᴗ⁍̴̛⁎)

notes: she's back with more demands and silliness!! ᕙ(⇀‸↼‶)ᕗ

*･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･'(*ﾟ▽ﾟ*)'･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*

“Could you make that,” pointing to your chest subtly, “a little bigger?”

Sitting beside the photo editor, you closely observe her working magic on your recent photoshoot with a swimwear brand.

You thought the photos looked great until you caught on to an important missing element.

Boobs.

Big boobs to be specific.

You had boobs but they were not like Hana Haruna’s (*a Japanese pornstar*).

What is the point of posing for a swimwear brand when you lack the assets?

“Maybe if you could just accentuate it a little more,” you gestured your hands to reiterate your idea of a big boob.

“Miss, if I make it any bigger here it’ll look as if you have watermelon jugs as big as your head.”

Your photo editor had a point; your edited chest resembled overblown balloons.

But still! (╯•﹏•╰)

“Isn’t that what the people like? Do you know what they always say? ‘Big boobs don’t lie’.”

“I think you got the wrong idea here, miss.”

“We cannot let the people out there catch me lacking!”

This was your first ever swimwear photoshoot in your entire career. Usually, you will pose for makeup brands and luxury clothing brands.

Swimwear was an uncharted territory. Of course, you were a little overzealous.

Me! The idol who is perfect in every way! Perfect face, perfect figure, and perfect life — an idol who everyone knows and loves.

“Hold on a second, let me refer to my advisor for their advice.”

Imitating a handheld phone with your hands and fingers, you held it towards your ear and spoke through the mock phone.

“Hello, myself. Do you think big boobs are better or small boobs?”

You halted for a second before replying to your own quandary, “Most definitely big boobs.”

With that, you ended the “call”.

“There you have it, miss photo editor. You just have to make it big enough to look natural.”

“If you say so...”

“I am the perfect idol. I cannot lack!”

Maintaining the image of an idol sure is a tough job.

—

“Did she gain some weight?”

“She looked like she had some plastic surgery done to her nose.”

“Oh, I heard she’s dating that one foreign guy!”

“Didn’t you hear how she seduced her way into…”

“She looks like she aged like rotten cheese since her teenage years.”

“Don’t you think she’s the least talented of her siblings?”

Those were just some of the many comments you could ascertain from your dear haters coming from the live audience seat.

You know you are the epitome of perfection. No matter what they say, it would not make you hot under the collar.

Jealously sure is a terrible disease. ┐(´～｀)┌

Currently, you are on a TV show with your male costar, whom you could not really remember his name for he is just a mere NPC.

Today’s show required you to promote a romance drama you acted in last year that has finally been broadcasted this year.

You played the role of the female lead, who fell in love with the male lead at first sight.

It turns out, the group of people who were talking behind your back was this NPC costar’s groupies.

Tsk. Bunch of buzzing bees.

They were on a nonstop mission to pour vitriolic attacks on you.

Despite all the hate, you thought it was quite flattering that they were giving you such undivided attention albeit having their “idol” — NPC costar — right beside you.

Yet again, you have proved to yourself that you are indeed the star of the show! Haters are part of the package of being so irresistible!

(Ŏ艸Ŏ)

You giggled at that.

“This is the hottest romance drama of this season that is sure to get you excited!” The host bellowed, prompting a wave of applause from the audience.

You smiled at the reception.

The interview was filled with scripted questions which you accordingly answered to.

Too easy.

You just had to smile sweetly at everyone to have them fall in love with you. Even the bunch of groupies could not help but to fall for your charm.

Everything was going swimmingly until the host pulled out his wild card — an unscripted question directed at you.

“As a famous idol, do you have any real-life romantic experiences that are swoon-worthy to share with the audience?” The host said in an overly enthusiastic tone.

The audience gasps.

All the cameras were then angled at you anticipating your response.

You smiled sweetly at the host.

Does this guy hate me or something? He must be my number one hater!

Your privacy has always been prioritised as an idol.

Not much was known about your private life until the recent news of your relationship with the Itoshi siblings broke out.

Disregarding that, the matter of your romantic relationship was a topic deemed taboo even to your fans.

The genesis of the taboo nature of your private romantic life started from an honest discussion among the netizens.

They were speculating who you were romantically involved with but it was all for naught as they could not find even a speck of man involved with you.

Even when feverish stalkers took matters into their own hands, they still could not find dirt on you.

Male costars? You treated them like dirt off-camera.

Other male celebrities? You did not even bother looking in their direction or bear to breathe the same air as them for you are better than them.

It soon became apparent to them that perhaps you had a secret affair or were involved in something incredibly scandalous — maybe you were interested in unique deviances?

Their theories then became out of control and so out of pocket that everyone began making up weird conclusions of their own online, which caused a huge uproar.

In the end, everyone decided to be more hush about that topic.

In reality, the truth as to why no one was able to dig up any evidence of you in a relationship was simply because you have always been single as a pringle.

How could a young eligible, gorgeous and talented bachelorette be so single? ( ▀ 益 ▀ )

That is because your brain only contains idol-related information. Everything else? Nil.

Is this man mocking me?

“Surely someone as pretty as you would have countless opportunities for love isn’t it?” The host continued with his onslaught of probing.

Should I strangle him? Or should I just slap him? No no no. Evil monologue shut up.

You look over to your manager and gave him the death glare.

In response to that, he expeditiously told the producers to temporarily halt the program.

With hands akimbo, your tall and slim frame overwhelmed the short and stubby manager.

You frowned at him and harshly whispered to his ears, “Get me a boyfriend ASAP!”

“Eh?!”

—

The program ended and you finally let out a long sigh in the car.

“So did you find me a boyfriend yet?”

“I-I don’t think that is how relationships work! I cannot just magically bring you a boyfriend.”

“But I want a boyfriend! So find me one!” You exclaimed helplessly.

Your manager sighed at your zero concepts of relationships and love.

“Have you loved someone before?”

“Myself.”

“Other than yourself?”

“Is this a trick question or something?”

Mr Manager glances at the rearview mirror with a defeated expression.

“Have you experienced love before?”

“What’s that?” You asked, fingers on your chin unsure what the heck that meant. ಠ╭╮ಠ

“The butterflies in your stomach when you meet someone you love!” He exasperated.

“Oh, that! Whenever I catch glimpses of myself in the mirror, I get this inexplicable feeling of that thing you described!”

This was a lost cause. Although you acted in numerous romance dramas, you still did not grasp the meaning of love. What a hypocrisy it is.

“To have a boyfriend, you must first love that person!”

“What? That sounds like a hassle. I just want a boyfriend.”

Mr manager scrunched his nose in disbelief.

“And why do you exactly want a ‘boyfriend’? This can’t be another of your impulsive thoughts is it?”

Mr manager had a déjà vu of a time when you ordered him to get you a pet tiger.

“No, it is not! What with all these questions, Mr interrogator?”

“…”

“Shut up and just get me a boyfriend.”

“So I have the right to set you up on a date?”

“Whatever it is, I want a boyfriend. I am being very extremely superbly serious!” You said with finality.

Mr Manager could only sigh in defeat yet again for the umpteenth time.

“But you are a public figure–”

You snapped at Mr Manager, “Shut up!”

He continued driving the car, looking at you through the rear-view mirror.

Any man would die to date you; you were a beguiling and dazzling lady. However, your attitude was something he was not sure any man would be able to handle.

In his entire career of being your manager, not once has he had a good day. Every day was filled with problems caused by you that he had to solve.

His brow scrunched together in grim defeat.

Boyfriend huh? Good luck to that unlucky guy.

You, on the other hand, seating cross-legged in the backseat, were marinating in annoyance.

After experiencing the mockery of the host deprecating your love life, you could not let that slide.

You had to ratio him.

Was it immature? Debatable.

Your only participation in this so-called romantic relationship concept was acting in dramas and movies.

And your exposure to the male species was…

Ehem.

Despite being an idol, your otherwise desolate personal life painted you as a lone wolf.

In your life, it was all work and dedication to being the best.

You were on fire! On fire to get a boyfriend! You will show them that you are capable of anything, and not lacking in any department!

The constant buzz of your phone eventually broke you out of your daze.

When you saw the screen, you immediately picked up the call.

“Rin!”

“I’m one step closer to demolishing brother.”

Eh? ！(◎_◎;)

You took the phone away from your ear and stared into the screen making sure you have the right person on the phone.

After confirming it’s the right person, you responded, “What do you mean demolishing your brother?”

“I’ve joined Paris X Gen in Blue Lock to become the best striker and to destroy brother.”

“Mmm… you are destroying my heart, Rin. Why are you still talking about your brother like this?”

“I will be better and he will finally acknowledge me.”

You murmured incoherent thoughts with a frown.

This pent-up hatred can go no further!

“Sister?”

“Where are you now?”

“In the Blue Lock facility. Why?”

You hung up the phone.

“Drive me to this Blue Lock facility place,” you ordered Mr Manager.

—

As soon as you arrive at the Blue Lock building, you were met with strict security.

“Let me in you low-life man.”

“Miss, this is not a place you can just walk in.”

“And a measly man like you can?”

You had been at this for a good 10 minutes, going back and forth with the stubby man and his group of security guards.

Getting sick and tired of this nonsense, you slap the man's fake wig off his head. The wig which was so fake you could see your reflection on it, flew away dramatically and plopped onto the hard asphalt ground.

“M-my hair!” He ran straight to the plastic wig.

“What’s with all these ruckus?”

The hairless man exclaimed at the sight of the short-haired woman.

Your attention went towards the petite, short-haired woman. She looked about your age. As she moved closer to you, almost immediately, your attention snapped to her big bust.

Those are what I call knockers! OMG! ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Too busy ogling at her melons, you didn’t realise she was calling out for you.

Snapping yourself out of it, you introduced yourself.

“You are the popular idol!” The busty lady interrupted you, “I am, Anri Teieri, the manager of this facility. This is a strictly out-of-bounds area. What business does an idol like you have here?”

“Miss Anri, you see I have an underaged brother here and I, as his attending guardian, need to see him.”

“I’m sorry, but only authorised personnel can enter the premises.”

“Then authorise me. My little brother is feeling so homesick he was practically begging on his knees to meet me.”

“Every participant here is dedicated to being the best striker, we cannot afford any distractions such as yourself. I’m sure your little brother understands this — it’s all part of the process,” Anri puffed her chest out.

Seeing the physics of her melons do their job, you unconsciously covered your own chest.

That’s unfair! _:(´ཀ`」 ∠):

Anri observed the female opposite her. Hands down, you are the most beautiful woman she had ever laid eyes on. A face sculpted by the gods and paired with those glassy teal eyes that just compelled attraction. Of course, she knew who you are — who doesn’t.

Honestly, Anri was a huge fan of your work. She had collected all your albums and watched all your shows.

You could say that she’s a fan girl.

She also knew that you were the older sister of Rin Itoshi. She had looked through each player's records and with the recent breakout news that you are related to the Itoshi siblings, no doubt you are his sister.

However, she cannot haphazardly let you enter.

What goes on inside Blue Lock is confidential.

“Who is in charge of this building? Call him out now,” you demanded, unwilling to leave until you got what you want.

As if the big man up there had heard your quandary, Anri’s phone rang and it was Ego.

“Let her in,” the deep voice reverberated in her ear.

Ego stared at the monitor, observing Anri and the idol through the surveillance camera.

“But,” Anri tried to protest to no avail as Ego quickly intercepted.

“No harm letting her in.”

With that, the call ended, leaving a befuddled Anri.

“The general manager called and said you are allowed in,” Anri hesitantly said.

“That wasn’t too hard isn’t it?” You smiled, satisfied.

EHE god is always on my side. ✌︎('ω')✌︎

—

The Blue Lock facility was a massive site. It was bigger than any skyscraper you had ever seen. This could easily be the most impressive building in Japan.

The space was so big that every step you took became a loud echo.

“Hey, big melon woman,” you called out for her.

“P-pardon m-m-me?” Anri is flustered at your bluntness.

“Yes, you.” You replied, disregarding her blushing face, “Where’s Rin?”

“The Blue Lock players are currently undergoing their training as of now, therefore I’ll be bringing you to the surveillance room where Ego is at.”

“And should I know what this Ego thing is?”

“Ego is a man I chose to oversee this Blue Lock project.”

“Oho — so you are the mastermind? That’s pretty impressive.”

That was impressive. You had an inkling an old, wrinkly man was behind Blue Lock but to think it was the big melon woman? That was impressive in your books.

Well, that and coupled with your bias for big boobs. (● ˃̶͈̀ロ˂̶͈́)੭ꠥ⁾⁾

Leading you through the vast hallway, both of you finally arrived at your destination.

Anri knocked on the door a couple of times.

“Come in,” came a reply.

As soon as the door opened, you were welcomed by the bright screens of many monitors.

Looking at the screens, they were all surveilling all of the Blue Lock players in the facility.

“Ego, this is the idol you told me to bring along.”

“Here, what you are witnessing are all the unpolished diamonds striving to become the best striker the world will soon witness,” Ego stood up, overwhelming your frame even though you weren’t short by any means.

Ego was a tall, lanky man and you cannot help but compare him to the game character called “Slenderman”.

“Make no mistake that we are the next revolution of football,” continued Ego.

You took a step towards the monitors and scrutinised trying to locate Rin.

“Note this, every day, every boy here only thinks about eating, sleeping and football,” continued Ego.

Still unable to find Rin, you pulled Anri and ask her to help you look for him. More pair of eyes will get the job done.

“We have never allowed any outsider to our facility and you are the first. Consider this a blessing that I am a fan of your works and have allowed you to witness this holy sanctuary,” continued Ego.

Where is Rin?!

“There he is!” Anri smiled as she pointed at a monitor to your far left.

Rin was on the field practising with other players.

“Bring me to him,” you interrupted Ego’s nonstop rant.

“I will, but I have a better idea,” he suspiciously said.

—

On the side of the field, Rin took off his football boots.

The nonstop practice and matches had worn out his boots till the original colour was gone.

It was not even a week since he had joined Paris X Gen, and the regiment was even harsher than before.

It was not for nothing though, he could feel his stamina, strength and ability getting better.

Nothing can stop him from achieving greater heights.

Be it the jerk Shidou or Isagi, he will be better.

But he cannot help to still feel that he is lacking somethi-

"RIN!"

The speaker rumbled throughout the entire Blue Lock building.

The big screen flickered and you came to view.

Rin sank back and covered his face; covering the heavy blush that instantly painted his face bright red.

"Sister..." he muttered under his breath, "What are you doing here?"

Embarrassment was currently the biggest understatement as he tried to pretend he did not hear or see anything.

"Hey, isn't that the idol? Am I dreaming right now?" Karasu gasps at your appearance.

"Rin, can you hear me?" You waved your hand trying to get your little brother's attention.

The Ego man told you that you can communicate with Rin through the screen but what a big liar he was!

On the monitor, the figure of Rin showed that he was still minding his own business as if he did not know you are here.

"Your dearly beloved sister is here!" You shouted into the mic again thinking that perhaps it was some faulty audio.

Your voice echoed throughout the building again, everyone in the building had their attention on you.

Uproars could be heard from the players in every room exclaiming at the sight of a popular idol.

You continued calling out for brother. After all, Ego had nicely set up a Zoom call for you, you cannot let this opportunity go to waste.

Why isn't he looking at me? (ᗒᗣᗕ)՞

At the corner of the room, away from the screen, Ego held back his laughter and Anri silently stood unable to help you.

—

"Hey, Reo-" Nagi poked Reo, "isn't that the videogame character?"

"She's the person the videogame character was modelled after," Reo replied.

“She’s a real person?” Nagi said in disbelief.

Unlike Nagi, who only knew you from his game, Reo has actually went to your live concerts multiple times.

After all, your concerts were sponsored by Mikage Corporation.

“Even in real life, she look like a video game character.”

“Is it because she look so unreal?” Reo replied.

—

"Meine Leibe, you have come for me," Kaiser stopped his track as soon as he heard your voice.

Pushing Isagi out of his way, he walked towards the screen with both arms out.

“This must be fate.”

☆〜（ゝ。∂）the end (for now) ☆〜（ゝ。∂）

Part 4

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writergeekrhw · 1 year

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25 THINGS I’VE LEARNED IN 25 YEARS IN TV WRITING

Well, it’s actually been 30 years now, but here’s a spew I did 5 years ago on the bird app to commemorate my 25 years as a TV writer.

I’ve edited it a bit for clarity. Hopefully some of you will find it useful.

1. In TV writing (and writing in general) there is only one unbreakable rule: Thou shalt not be boring.

2. Write characters people want to hang out with for an hour or so once a week for years to come. Even if they're bad people, make them interesting, engaging bad people.

3. If your lead is a bad person, make them funny and/or sexy. Direct most of their bad behavior toward other bad people or themselves. Make them well motivated. Maintain rooting interest.

4. What makes a character special should be intertwined with what makes them struggle. Perfect people are boring.

5. Characters should complement/conflict with each other. No two characters should serve the same purpose/have the same backstory/have the same voice.

6. Cast the best actor, adjust the character to suit.

7. Give your leads the best lines/moments. No one is tuning in to watch the funny guest star. Like Garry Marshall said back on HAPPY DAYS, “I’m paying Henry Winkler $25,000 an episode. Give the Fonz the jokes.”

8. Your characters, good & bad, should reflect the reality of our wonderful, diverse world. White male shouldn’t be the default.

9. Avoid stereotypes. Stereotypes are boring.

10. If all your POV characters know some secret, the audience should know it too.

11. If your show hinges on a big mystery, know more or less what the truth is from the beginning. You can change it later if you need to, but write to a specific.

12. If your story doesn’t test your characters mentally, physically, psychologically, emotionally, or spiritually, you don’t have a story.

13. You can start by figuring out the Beginning, the Middle, or the End, but you don’t have an episode until you have all three.

14. Big suspenseful act outs (the last moments before the commercials) aren’t just a gimmick. They’re a good way to structure an hour of entertainment to make sure the audience is invested and your pacing is solid.

15. Every scene should be a consequence of the previous scene or a refutation of it.

16. A scene also needs a Beginning, Middle, and End. The end should propel the characters and/or audience into the next scene.

17. Every scene is a negotiation/confrontation between two or more characters who want different things or have different ideas on how to solve the same problem.

18. A good action scene is still a character scene. With punching. (This applies to sex scenes too, but you know, with sex.)

19. A crap page is better than a blank one.

20. It’s easier to cut than to add.

21. Good things rarely happen in the Writers Room after dinner. Go home, get some rest, write pages at home if you have to, start fresh in the morning. Writers who have a life outside the writing room are better writers. Beware the showrunner who doesn't want to go home to their family. That said…

22. Script by day one of Pre-Production. No matter what.

23. You’re a writer first. Almost nothing happening on set or in post is more important than the writing. Delegate when possible.

24. Make an extra effort to surround yourself with writers who are different from you (background, race, gender, orientation, etc). Listen to their perspectives, especially on experiences alien to you.

25. And in the end the love you take is equal to the love you make. In TV writing and life in general.

PART TWO HERE:

https://at.tumblr.com/writergeekrhw/25-things-in-25-years-part-2-25-things-ive/okjzwofyiq6i

#tv writing #tv #showbiz #writing #screenwriting #advice

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arcanefox207 · 2 months

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Congratulations to Pedro on his People's Choice win for Male TV Star of the Year. Damn he was looking goooooood.

Have a GIF request? Send it to my inbox!

Love to my sluts <3 @magpiepills @redhotkitchen @sparklefarts38 @exquisiteserotonin @pink-whiskey-woman @youandmeand5bucks @legendary-pink-dot @for-a-longlongtime @morallyinept @secretelephanttattoo

#the bisexual peace sign gives me life #pedro pascal #pascalispunk #pedro gifs #peoples choice awards #the last of us #pedro pascal is joel miller #daddy joel

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mdawgswizzleinthehizzle · 2 months

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criminally gorgeous.

#CONGRAGULATIONS PEDROOOO !!!!!#absolutely deserved #the last of us #pedro pascal #joel miller #hbo the last of us #sag awards 2024 #screen actors guild awards #netflix #the mandalorian #din djarin #pedroispunk #pedropascaledit #pedrohub #pedropascal #male tv star of the year

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delulu-with-wandanat · 5 months

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Mockingbird

Reader Description: He/him, adult, early 30s.

Pairings: Wanda Maximoff x Male!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of suicide, angst?

(Now now, i know i put out a poll. BUT i started writing this and... oh well enjoy :> I promise the next one will be a lighthearted Wandanat HS au eeekkk!!!!!)

Summary: America Chavez gave Wanda what she wanted, Wanda sees the love of her life again from another universe. However, her lover's variant already build a life without her...

Y/n sits on the sofa with a huff and turned on the TV to watch whatever was available on Netflix, "What a day..." he said to himself. He loved his new job, but of course like any other person he just needed some time alone.

He scrolled to the various crappy movies and series that he hadn't watch. Deciding that he just wanted something light, he put on a sitcom that he watched many times with his late wife a few years ago. It felt weird not watching it with her even until now, but he remembered how much his wife loved re-watching the sitcom over and over to the point where she could recite every single episode by heart.

Y/n smiled at the memory, when the two used to binge watch Brooklyn 99 at the common room of the compound. Wanda even got to the point where she hosted a 'Halloween Heist', but it ultimately stopped after two heist when Natasha won in less than 10 minutes, yes both heist. Honestly they should've known better than to have those kind of heist games with a well renowned international spy.

At least they still have a few rounds of 'Jimmy Jabs' games.

Except they dialed the extremeness to a 10 considering they were the Avengers. We don't have to get into details, but due to the techs that they have and the powers they own, things get very interesting quite quickly.

Well almost everything in his life was interesting, I mean he's surrounded by gods, witches, spies. Not a single day in his life was ordinary...

Including today, when a portal in the shape of a star appeared out of nowhere right in front of him. The portal it self did not shock him in the slightest. What did shock him though was the fact that the love of his life, his wife, his soulmate who died years ago, was now standing right in front of him in the flesh.

Y/n was speechless. Ever more so, the fact that Wanda was choking what it looks like no more than 14 year old girl. "Wanda, what are you doing?!"

"Y/n..." Wanda breathed out, her grip on the girl loosen. The 14 year old girl then fell to the gasping for air. "I- I didn't..."

Y/n stood up from the couch, he couldn't move. His dead wife was alive right before his eyes, either she had rise from the dead or... well, there was only one other possibility.

She was from another universe.

No doubt in his mind that she was. In Y/n's universe, they knew the existence of the multiverse. "I just wanted to see you again." Wanda said with teary eyes.

Being a former SHIELD agent, he was quick to piece the puzzle together. This Wanda must be from a Universe where he had died. He tried to stay calm for her, even though inside, seeing Wanda again brought back so many memories. Happy ones, but most notably the painful one.

Particularly, a memory of the day he lost her.

Wanda noticed that Y/n had been silent the whole time, she hung her head in shame. "I'm a monster..."

Y/n's heart broke at her words. "No... Lyubov, don't say that." He approached her slowly and gently lifted her chin so her eyes meets his.

Gazing into the eyes of the woman he loves that died years ago was something that would never have crossed his mind. It took every, by that I mean EVERYTHING in his power to not breakdown right in front of her.

Little did he know Wanda felt the same, however the difference was her wound was still fresh. Staring into his beautiful eyes again, it broke her. Wanda broke down and pulled him into a hug, taking in everything she could.

His scent, his warmth, his comfort.

She cried on to his shoulders, and Y/n simply held her. It felt good, really good. To be in his arms again. To have Y/n hold her like he used too.

“I miss you, so much." She told him between sobs.

"I miss you too." Y/n responded. Wanda pulled back and rested her forehead against his with her eyes closed. The two stayed like that for a little while, yet the question still lingers in Y/n's mind. Why was Wanda choking an innocent little girl?

It seems like his mind is louder than he thought as Wanda answered the question. "I... When you died, I couldn't- I couldn't move on." She told him hesitantly as she opened her eyes. Fear and guilt painted over her face as she thought of the potential reactions she would get from Y/n.

He glanced at the 14 year old girl behind her, Wanda noticed the way his eyes shifted. She felt the need to explain herself, he deserved to know the truth. To know the extent she went just to be with her lover again.

"I... I chased down, America Chavez. She was the key..." He shifted his eyes back to hers. Key?? "I tried to-" The words got stuck in her throat. "I tried to kill her..." She cried, hanging her head in shame. Y/n's eyes widen at her words.

Wanda... a killer? How bad was her universe treating her to the point where she goes to that extent??

An embrace, was the last thing Wanda had expected to receive from him. She expected a look of disappointment, shame, anger, yet all he did was simply pulled her into a hug.

"I understand."

That was when Wanda started crying against his chest. He was taller, so he kissed the top of her head lovingly. With her ears pressed against his chest, she could listen to his heartbeat. It was the calmest sound she hasn't heard in a while.

"I... I lost you, In my universe. I understand how you feel." Y/n remembered the day Wanda sacrificed herself for the soul stone. After the battle he begged, begged the Avengers to use the stones to bring her back. To have her in his arms again. To hold her...

Wanda felt his emotions. Anger, sadness, grief, Wanda felt it all as memory of her own death came back flooding his mind like a tidal wave. She held him tighter, knowing that he needed this just as much as she does. After a long while, they pulled back resting their foreheads against each other. Both with tears streaming down their eyes.

Wanda cupped his face, she felt Y/n leaning to her touch. When they gazed into each other once again, Wanda, without a second thought, pulled him down for a kiss.

Y/n reciprocated just as quick. Wanting to feel her soft lips after 4 long years. He missed it. Her soft touches, the taste of her lips, her beautiful voice. He missed her so dearly.

Wanda wrapped her arms around his neck to deepen the kiss. Holding onto his figure almost desperately. They held onto each other as they poured all the love they couldn't express with words through their actions.

After a long while, Wanda broke the kiss. "Let's not leave each other again."

Y/n clenched his jaw, he moved his hand from her waist to her face, caressing it. "I want that, more than anything..."

Wanda smiled, a genuine smile that she haven't had for the longest time. Yet... she noticed a hint of hesitation on Y/n's part. "What is it, love?"

He had to tell her, but he didn't know how. Y/n could tell she was broken, broken beyond repair that she goes to this extent. He doesn't know how to break the news to her. "Wands... I want you back, more than anything."

Slowly her smile fades. God he wishes he could bring it back.

"But... you can't stay here..."

That shattered Wanda's heart, "W-why?" Did he not love her just as much? He was a variant of her lover yes, but surely they would share the same love. Did he find someone else?? "What makes you say that?" She asked, from the tone of her voice Y/n could tell his words broke her heart.

"You can't... stay in my universe. And I can't- I can't stay in yours."

"W-why?"

"It would cause an incursion. It will destroy my universe and maybe even yours. I can't let that happen, Wands. I'm sorry." He told her gently while caressing her cheeks.

Her eyes started to pool again as she leaned to his touch. "Why... Why does it have to be like this- Why is the universe to cruel..."

Y/n wanted so badly to erase her sadness, her grief, to see her beautiful smile again. "If I was as powerful as you, I would've ventured across the multiverse for you. But, I'm just a human. The only thing I could do was... move on."

Move on

The word echoes in her head. Y/n had moved on. She looked at him in disbelief. "Move on?" Wanda breathed out.

Y/n clenched his jaw again, "Move on isn't the right word. You will always have a special place in my heart, but... I couldn't stay like that forever. I'm sorry, Wanda." He remembered the countless times he almost took his life, just to be with her again.

Wanda was... angry? Sad, heartbroken, deep down she understood. If she had died, she would've wanted him to live on. The same way her Y/n told her too. Yet part of her was still corrupted. How can he move on so quickly when she would destroy everything just to be with him again?

Anger was boiling inside her, before she could ask any further, they heard a little girl's voice. "Daddy?" Wanda was shocked to her core. Y/n... has a daughter.

Y/n quickly wiped his tears and turned around to face the 4 year old girl. "Heyy pumpkin." The little girl ran over to her father as he bent down to pick her up. "What are you doing up this late huh?" He asked her.

"Bad dream..." The little girl said while rubbing her eyes, yet it was clear she was still sleepy. Y/n turn to face Wanda with a gentle smile as he held his daughter.

Wanda was speechless, the sight... warmed her shattered heart. She was happy for him, but devastated that he had built a life... without her. The thought of Y/n having a kid, a family with someone else felt like a stab in her heart.

"Who's that?" The little girl asked, pointing at Wanda who was standing a few centimeters away from them with her hand on her chest. Trying so hard not to burst into tears.

Shit... how should he say this. "Honey, this is..." He wanted his daughter to know. But, she was too young. "...a very dear friend of mine. She has magical powers and came to visit me."

'Dear friend', so Wanda truly is out of his life.

The little girl waved at Wanda. "Hello!"

"Hi..." Wanda whispered. She wanted to hold the little girl. Wanda felt some sort of connection with her that she couldn't quite pin. It seems like the little girl felt the same as she leaned towards Wanda with grabby hands. Y/n took a few steps closer to Wanda, slowly.

"I think she wants to be held by you." Y/n said, looking at his daughter lovingly.

"May I?" Wanda asked, glancing at him. He nodded and gently moved his daughter onto Wanda's arms. The first thing the little girl did was reach up to touch her crown while giggling. “Oh-“

The action caused Wanda to laugh a little too. His daughter is beautiful. She definitely has her father’s hair. But her facial features probably leaned more towards her mother, whoever it is. Probably someone she knew as the little girl looked so... familiar.

“Magic?” The little girl asked.

Wanda smiled gently as she hovered her hand in front of the little girl. She projected a tiny rabbit that hopped around her hand, causing the little girl to giggle while clapping her hand. The bunny hopped around the little girl as well before disappearing into a red mist.

Unbeknownst to Wanda, Y/n doing everything in his powers not to break down at the sight before him. “Are you friends with my mama?

Wanda didn’t know how to answer that. “Um…”

“My daddy says my mama has magic powers, like you!” The little girl explained.

“Has your Mama talked about me?” Wanda asked, trying to keep her voice steady. The only other person who she know was a witch is Agatha.

"No..." The little girl said sadly. "Dad says she's somewhere up there." She pointed at the ceiling, Wanda understood what she meant. "He said we'll visit her one day!"

"Oh... I see." Well, what was she supposed to say. The little girl then played with her crown again, and Wanda lets her. Loving smile plastered on her face. It seems like the little girl was studying her face as well??

"You look a little bit like her?" Y/n's daughter blurted out. Could it be? No it can't be. "My mama had brown hair though, yours is red."

Deciding she didn't want to get her hopes up, she asked the girl a question. Hoping to steer the subject. "What's your name?"

"Wanda." The little girl answered, she was too pre occupied with Wanda's crown to notice the shift in Wanda's expression. "My daddy says my mama has the same name too." The little girl added.

Oh... It all makes sense now. The connection she felt toward the little girl.

Wanda finally glanced at Y/n who had a sorrow look plastered across his face. That was when she finally noticed the difference, this Y/n indeed looked much much older than the one from her universe. Her heart stammering in her chest. This wasn't just Y/n's daughter... It's their's.

Y/n approached the two of them, they didn't know how long time had passed. Probably a while, as little Wanda had decided to nestle on the crook of her mother's neck with her eyes closed. Wanda searched Y/n's eyes for explanation.

"You-" He corrected himself, "Her mother, had complications with pregnancy." He explained while tucking a hair behind his daughter's ear, watching her sleeping form with a small smile. "So, Tony made us an artificial womb to carry this little devil."

Wanda looked at his- her daughter's sleeping form. It felt surreal.

"But uh..." His voice cracked slightly, "Wanda and I got sent on a mission, to bring everyone back from the snap. We won... but I lost her." It was clear that the memory brought so much pain to him. "Not long after that this little bug was born. Wanda... never got to meet her. So I named her after her mother."

No wonder the girl looked familiar, she had took on most of Wanda's facial feature. Her nose, her face structure, but most notably her eyes. She looked exactly like how she was when she was younger.

"I would never forget you, Wanda." He whispered so only she could hear. Wanda glanced at Y/n who had tears in his eyes.

Wanda was at lost for words, the only thing she could came up with was. "She has your hair."

Y/n chuckles, "Yeah... that's kind of the only thing she got from me." He had a longing look as he stared at little Wanda holding onto her mother. A sight he wished he could've seen with his Wanda, but she was taken away from him before she could ever meet her own daughter. "I was lost for days, but then when she was born I-" He stopped himself, trying to find the right words. "I had to be strong, for her sake."

Y/n slowly wrap his arms around the two of them, the sight of the family was perfect. America, who had been watching their whole conversation was touched by the image. To see the contrast of how Wanda used her powers in front of her daughter. How tender she was, the power that caused so much chaos to be used in such a gentle way. It reminds her a little bit of her own mothers.

"If she wasn't here I-" Y/n's words got stuck in his throat, "I think I would've..." Yet Wanda knew what he meant, her heart shattered for him.

"Y/n..." Wanda closed the distance and rested their foreheads once more with their daughter sleeping soundly on her shoulder.

They stayed there for a few minutes, just enjoying the warmth from each other. Wanting so badly to be the perfect family that they could've been if the universe wasn't so cruel. Another thought creeped into his mind, how was he supposed to explain this to their daughter when she remembers?

Surely it was probably because of sleepiness that she couldn't properly remember her mother's face. But she has seen multiple pictures of her mother, how was he supposed to explain that this Wanda was a variant.

His thoughts was so loud that Wanda could hear it clearly. "It's ok." She said, giving him a reassuring smile. Wanda raised her hand slowly, little red mist emitting from the tip of her fingers. She tapped their daughter's temple ever so gently. Causing little Wanda to nestle further into her neck with a faint smile.

"Rest your head and go to sleep, little one. When you wake up, this will all just be a dream." Wanda whispered.

ᗢ

"Hey, pumpkin. Time to wake up." Wanda Y/l/n, slowly opened her eyes. She yawned and stretched her arms. Her father was smiling softly at her, she sat up on her bed and rubbed her eyes.

"I had a dream..." The little girl told her father. Unknown to her, Y/n tensed slightly.

"Was was it about?" He asked.

"Mama came to visit us instead." The little girl didn't understand why, but she felt extremely sad as she started to cry. Y/n was quick to pull her into a hug.

"Shhh... It's ok little one, don't you cry." He held his daughter as she cried in his arms. "Everything's gonna be alright."

"Why couldn't she stay?"

He thinks for a second before answering, "I know mommy's not here right now, but I promise she's gonna be alright."

And if you ask me to, daddy's gonna buy you a mockingbird. Imma give you the world. Imma buy a diamond ring for you, Imma sing for you, I'd do anything for you To see you smile

#wanda maximoff #wanda #wanda maximoff angst #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x male reader #wanda x you #wanda x y/n #wanda maximoff x male reader #wanda x masculine!reader #wanda x male y/n #mcu #wanda imagine #scarlet witch #the scarlet witch

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crazyutubelady · 1 year

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Watch "SISTER WIVES Exclusive - MYKELTI Tells Fans KODY WILL NOT BE TAKING NEW WIVES & MORE!" on YouTube

youtube

#reality tv #reality show #becoming sister wives #sister wives #sister wives book #sisterwives #christine brown #gossip #kody brown #sister wives news #sister wives’ kody brown claims christine ‘s**t talked’ sister wife janelle & slammed him for ‘sleeping with the enemy’#sister wives fans #sister wives fans are convinced kody brown is begging for ex christine back after her drastic weight loss & glow up #sister wife #sister wives’ meri and kody were ‘guarded’ and on ‘different planes’ by the end of once healthy marriage #sister wives’ janelle rebuffed ex husband kody’s attempts at ‘alpha male’ control for years #sister wives fans slam mykelti brown after she claims women with postpartum depression are ‘seeking attention #Mykelti padron #sister wives fans blast christine brown over ‘gross’ detail in new photo and claim star is ‘unhygienic’#sister wives fans vow to set christine brown up with her hunky ‘celebrity crush’ after her weight loss & split from kody #Christine brown wedding #sister wives episode #sister wives recap #sister wives reaction #gwendlyn brown #redacted kody #sister wives fans slam kody brown as an ‘entitled brat’ after he bashes janelle’s home as ‘not good enough’#sister wives fans think janelle brown is ‘sending a message’ to ex kody as she furiously throws an axe in wild new video #janelle brown #janelle and christine are ‘glowing’ after split from patriarch

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orangepeetals · 5 months

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ACURRUCAR ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა (pt1)

(playlist for a star series)

PEETA MELLARK X F. READER.

pt2

summary: You n’ Peeta have been best friends since you were kids, you win the Hunger games once n’ you’re a mentor now.

a/n: i speak Spanish so the story was originally written in Spanish and then I translated it into English, plz don’t be rude if there is a mistake

You and Peeta were inseparable, they knew each other for as long as you remembered. When they were at school and they were little, you never talked to him until you defended him from some children who were bothering him because of the marks of the blows he received from his mother, you didn’t know what caused that feeling in you but you just couldn’t stand how they were intimidating him, you took a couple of blows too but they never bothered the bread boy again, since then, he followed you as if he were a puppy.

They grew up together, they suffered together, Peeta did not exist without you, nor you without him, they were for each other in every possible way, they were simply soulmates.

When you were 15 years old, ur name was selected as a tribute to the hunger games, every day you thought about it, Peeta clung to you while he drowned in tears, you remember how he apologized to you for not being able to do anything and how he begged you to stay alive, you were going to do it, you could not die, not seeing Peeta suffer in this way, you knew that he would not stand it and he deserved to live a beautiful life with you.

It took you a while to realize it but you knew it that time they were by a lake in district 12, it had been a couple of months since you had survived the hunger games with only strategy. The sky began to look like a soft orange, the breeze hit his blond curls while his cheeks were pink, you could see his eyes shine and his hands tremble as he approached your face, you felt the warm touch of his lips against yours and you thought that you would melt at that moment, Their hearts became one and sealed their love with the sunset, he loves you with every part of his being and you could give your life in exchange for his without thinking about it.

You would really give up your life in exchange for his, you would live for Peeta and you would kill for Peeta if you had to.

You would really do it.

You were on the train together with your mentor Haymitch watching the reapin, you hated the games as much as Abernathy did but you had to know who would be the poor children who would have to train this year, it was the second year that you had to be a mentor since you won the hunger games, both times without any success, it was difficult for someone from district 12 to win, in the whole history of the hunger games there were only three of them and only Haymitch and you were alive, you were looking out the window until you saw how a girl volunteered as a tribute for who seemed to be her sister, tears slid down your cheeks when you saw the scene, that girl had the courage they needed, that feat made you believe that this year they could achieve it, you stood in front of the tv while Haymitch was still living something strange sitting on the couch, now it was the turn of the male tribute.

“Peeta Mellark”

Fear and despair consumed your body, your legs trembled so much that you fell to the ground while you cried inconsolably, you put your trembling hand in your mouth to drown a cry of anguish, this was not happening, it was not happening again, you knew that sometimes they tricked the draws to get people close to other winners to make the things more interesting but you always made an effort to hide Peeta from the public eye and that no one knew that they were a couple, you did not want to expose him to anything but it was happening, they could not take the love of your life, they could not take your Life partner, to your soulmate, to the arms that protected you every time something distressed you. You hated everything, fucking capitol, it didn’t matter anymore, now you and your mentor were going to have to send two boys to death again and this time one of them was the person you loved the most on the planet.

“Oh, shit... this is fucked up” Haymitch’s voice was rough, you could feel the pity in her. His hands lifted you off the floor and put you on the couch while he knelt at your height, hugging you.

“N-no i don’t understand... why him?! No one in the capitol knows about him, I don’t think he’s just so unlucky... Haymitch please, I need you to help me!” Your voice broke more, you hugged Haymitch tightly as he tried to calm you down. “We’ll see what we can do, remember that it’s not just him” The man was right but nothing mattered, nothing could matter to you more than Peeta.

“Haymitch, I’m sorry for that girl but it’s not about just anyone, he’s not just another boy who will die, it’s Peeta Mellark! I could sell my soul for never hearing that name come out of Effie Trinket’s mouth, you know Peeta, you know it’s everything to me” Your body trembled with every word you gave, you felt dizzy, you wanted break everything, Haymitch nodded to your words and you broke into tears again, suddenly everything went black.

You woke up looking at the ceiling of the train room, you were still dizzy, possibly you had fainted from stress, you were still somewhat bewildered until you heard a familiar voice from the dining room car, you got up so fast that you fell to your knees again, your body was weakened, you were going to cry again until you saw him almost run to your room, his hair was disheveled now and his eyes lacked shine, you gave him a look and you just exploded in tears again, you couldn’t believe that he was on that fucking train, that he was now involved in this.

“I’m so sorry, Peeta, I’m so sorry, it shouldn’t have been you, this is possibly my fault, they must have discovered it somehow” The words came out choppy and weak, they denoted your suffering. Peeta knelt with you as he took your hands, you saw how his tears fell, it broke your heart to know that he was holding back.

“Hey, it’s just the odds wasn’t on my favor this time, it’s not your fault, I’ll get out of this anyway and we’ll get married, did you hear me?” Your heart beat for the blond’s words, you hugged him tightly and your lips looked for his with desperation, you wanted to feel him close to you, you didn’t want him to leave, you were afraid.

The plan was this, Peeta would be madly in love with Katniss Everdeen, the girl who had volunteered, she wasn’t exactly a very nice girl and you knew that she was likely to hate you, she knew that you were going to prioritize Peeta’s success over anything and you didn’t blame her for hating you for that but you didn’t care either, at this moment you wanted her dead no matter how sad as that was.

Peeta confessing his love for Katniss in the interview, somehow you felt jealousy in your stomach even if everything was a lie, you wanted all this to end soon, you wanted to go home with Peeta, with the interviews you knew that they were at the gates of the arena, since the day of the reapin you had not eaten or slept well, the only thing you had eaten in those days had been by Peeta’s plea, now you understood his pain the day you had to enter that damn arena and for the same reason, you knew the terrors involved putting a foot in that arena, there was no turning back, Peeta had to live.

———————————————

💭pt2 here!!!

#peeta mellark fluff #peeta mellark x reader #tbosas #the hunger games #peeta mellark #katniss everdeen #Spotify

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infernalodie · 1 year

Text

𝐇𝐨𝐦𝐞 || 𝐉𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐎𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐠𝐚

“𝘓𝘦𝘵 𝘮𝘦 𝘨𝘰 𝘩𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘐'𝘮 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘧𝘢𝘳 𝘍𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘮𝘦“

Inspo: Michael Bublé - Home

Pairing: Jenna Ortega x Male!reader

Summary: The distance made you chose home and you would do it again...

Warnings: Fluffy

Words: 1726

Out on the road, it held some of the greatest moments in your life. Going big and being able to travel across the world or on a tour bus, seeing places, meeting fans, spending years with friends getting to experience all these things together. It truly is a gift that you wouldn’t take back. Fame and the extra responsibilities were meaningless when you got to live the dreams you had since a child.

But as years went on and as you got older, you met people. You had partners that came and left, but none felt like something you wanted to have for life. Until Jenna met you backstage. She was beautiful, far more beautiful than what you saw on the internet or in movies. You two talked until your manager pulled you to the stage. But in those 5 minutes of talking, seeing her smile, hearing her laugh, some part of you had this feeling. It was a swelling effect in the chest that hadn’t been prevalent for so long. So, you had made it your mission to exchange numbers and see if it would work. If it just meant being friends, then that would be enough.

So, on nights when you were laid up in a hotel or on the tour bus and you couldn’t sleep, you sent her a quick text. Feeling your lips twist into a smile when she texted back. She was a movie star and you were just some unknown (almost) jazz artist that lived for the music. Yet, she gave time to you when she was also free. Your friends would joke when they found you smiling at your phone. Teasing you for being so whipped over a girl you met once.

And it only felt inevitable that you guys attempted to give it a chance. When the tour ended, you guys met again and went on countless secretive dates since Jenna wasn’t prepared for that type of press. You supported her and she did you. Most days, you attempted to just call her if she wasn’t busy and would see her when she had a day off. Going with her to TV and movie premiers is a plus one that the two of you labelled as “best friends.” And something about your guys’ relationship being so secretive gave it that much affection and genuine love behind the scenes because it was your guys’ secret. It was only for you two to know, feel, and experience.

That was a year ago. The two of you were still going strong but tours and shows were sucking more of the life out of you. Performing was still magical and a god given gift to you, but being away from Jenna was hurting more and more as time passed. Seeing the fans were great, but you missed Jenna’s arms around you. Hearing the crowd sing the lyrics was exciting, but feeling Jenna’s lips against yours was different and better.

You started touring at 17 and that was after putting out two studio albums. You were 22 now and the love for music was still there, but it wasn’t the forefront like it used to be. And you accomplished everything you needed to. Going to countries and cities you wanted, doing certain events, going on talk shows, meeting your celebrity idols- all of it was done. The last show of your tour was in the 3rd biggest stadium in the world. You had reached the top. So, where else were you supposed to go? There was only so much you could do before the drive was lost and you might’ve wanted to conserve it honestly. Maybe drop the whole music thing for a few years and come back with a fresh mind and new things you’ve experienced. It was a tall order and one you believed and everyone close to you did too.

So, walking out on that stage with the sound of fans screaming in excitement, cheering your name as far back as your eyes would allow you to see, it felt surreal. It also tore way at your heart. But you managed to force the tears down and smile, adjusting your suit and bringing the mic to your lips. “Michigan.” Your monotone voice was overtaken by the screams, making you laugh. “Who is ready for the show?” They screamed again.

The night slowly divulged down into you giving the best performance of your life. Dancing, running, jumping, screaming, you gave your all to the show and the crowd was loving it. But you knew time was whittling down and the eventual final song would have to be performed and you would be left sorrowful. Because you knew that the moment you stepped on stage, this would be the last show for a while. And it almost felt like you were saying goodbye to someone or losing someone. There would be a grieving process and it would take long to overcome it. But you knew it wasn’t over.

Soon enough, that time came and you had to pull the stool in the center of the stage close to the piano and sat down. “Listen, I know I’m 22, but I am getting too old for this,” you grumbled, taking a sip at your water as the crowd laughed. “But I am sure you guys realize that I haven’t played the last song. But there is a good reason for that. I…I am going to be taking a break for a while.”

You lowered the mic as you felt your nose start to tingle and burn. Sniffling as you swallowed the lump in your throat. “I met someone a few years ago and being on tour has been a gift and I love every single one of you, but I need to spend that time with them. They changed my life and so many ways and I love them too much to step away any longer.” you explained. “It hurts being away from loved ones and it hurts more not being able to be in their arms.” Exhaling shakily, you allowed the tears to flow down your cheeks without care. “I’ve been doing this since I was 13. Making music out of my parent's basement and when I was 17, I finally went on tour and it’s been nonstop since. So, I made a few calls and cleared it, but an album will be dropping my birthday with this next song.”

The crowd cheered, seeming to support your decision. It made your face twist in so many emotions and your heart swell in happiness. But when you turned your head, you found her standing on the other end of the stage, tears in her eyes, hands clasped to her chest. Your bottom lip trembled and a choked laugh fell from your lips as you got up and walked toward her. When Jenna stepped out from the curtain, the crowd screamed and cheered.

Yet, the world became so meaningless when you were wrapped in her arms. Her warm tears wet your cheek, which made you sigh shakily. “I love you so much.” It was the truth. In so many circumstances, you felt like the four-letter word didn’t have the much weight as it did now. You also didn’t feel worthy of being the one to say it. But you were giving up so much money to just be with her because she meant more than the money. She gave more memories than the road could ever, so you hoped she knew how much you meant it.

Jenna rubbed your back, pulling away to kiss you on the forehead. Her hands hold your face with her lips etching into a grin. “I love you too,” she whispered. Taking your hand, she pressed a kiss to the back of it and tilted her head. “You gonna sing that song or keep ‘em waiting?”

You smiled, taking her hand and pulling her further out on stage. Raising your interlocked hands, causing the crowd to cheer in bliss. The band began to play with you and Jenna sat at the piano. Her hand rested on your lap as you played the keys just like you practiced so many sleepless nights. “Another summer day. Has come and gone away. In Paris and Rome. But I wanna go home, mmm,” you sang. “May be surrounded by, A million people I still feel all alone. Just wanna go home. Oh, I miss you, you know.”

The crowd was a sea of lights, waving from left to right with the rhythm of the song. Making you smile as you moved closer to the mic and tilted your head to glance at Jenna. Her eyes dreamily admired you as you smiled. “Let me go home. I'm just too far. From where you are. I wanna come home. And I feel just like I'm living someone else's life. It's like I just stepped outside. When everything was going right.”

You had created the song while on the road. A distant cry of what you wished for more than anything else in the world. Just to be with Jenna. You were mainly surprised by the fact that you were allowed to do this. The record company had cleared it and was in full support of the long break from music. And they had been helpful to make things easier to create your new album while on the road. Willing to pay and have equipment set up and ready for you to use.

“Another winter day. Has come and gone away. In even Paris and Rome. And I wanna go home. Let me go home.” Head bobbing to the drums, you looked at Jenna and smiled. Her hand reached up and threaded through your neatly styled hair, gently caressing your scalp in the way you liked it. The sting behind your eyes grew as you licked your lips. “Let me go home. I've had my run. Baby, I'm done. I gotta go home. Let me go home. It'll all be all right. I'll be home tonight. I'm coming back home.”

With the last chord of the piano that played, the crowd screamed and cheered as you sat there with your hands resting in your lap. Blinking rapidly as you sniffled, pursing your lips and nodding. Looking at Jenna, you smiled through the tears. “Let’s go home.”

#jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega imagine #jenna ortega x male reader #jenna ortega fluff #jenna ortega x male!reader #jenna ortega fanfiction #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega x you #x male!reader #x male reader

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