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jennaissantes · 1 year

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footnote — p.sh

SYPNOSIS: Sunghoon was your best friend. You were his best friend. You love sunghoon. He loves you too, just not quite the same way. You know that you'll never be able to take the place she has.

or:: where falling in love with your best friend is the worst situation you could fall into. especially when hes got his eye set on another girl.

PAIRING: besf!sunghoon x besf!fem!reader [features some of the other enhypen members]

GENRE: angst,.. unrequited love

WARNINGS: sunghoon kinda leads the reader on for a while..... hes a bit of an asshole at that part. its a bittersweet ending tho like &

MUSIC: listen to footnote by conan gray

WORD COUNT: 3K.....haha remember how i said it wont go over 1k... yeah same...

NOTE: hi so i recovered my fic 😰 i love this one so much so im reposting it THANK GOD i still had it in my docs. love u guys mua happy reading!!

extra note!!: the way i depict sunghoon in this fic is purely imaginative and i am not saying in any way that he is actually like this so do say weird shit. also his character is a bit of an asshole….but high schoolers happen to be like that now. ugh.

i. i remember thinking how pretty you looked in the moonlight

You don't remember when you realized you liked Sunghoon first. You guys had always been friends, having gone to the same school since pre school. High school Sunghoon was a lot different than elementary and middle school Sunghoon.

You remember how loud and cute he used to be in first grade. You remember the first time he hugged you in front of the whole class because you had to leave half-day to visit the doctor. You remember how he used to barely care about anything else other than playing around with his friends.

Those were just memories now.

You loved your conversations with him on instagram, but there were times you wished that he'd talk to you in school too. Then you thought that maybe he just wasn't comfortable with talking to people much.

By the time you reached high school, the two of you had become the best of friends. It took a while for him to come out of his shell but eventually he did. It went from shy ‘good mornings' to the most unfunny jokes he'd crack when he saw you.

You don’t remember when exactly you realized that you liked him. You just knew it somewhere in your heart that you liked him a lot more than as just a friend.

You knew it was wrong. You shouldn't be feeling this way about someone who was just your best friend. But you couldn't help it.

He wasn't the best person when you’d both just become friends. He’d often make sexist comments, but you waved it off as an immature boy's thoughts. Once it got too much though, you'd given him a good scolding and ignored him for a while. That set him straight. He became a much nicer person after that. (‘Weird’, you thought. ‘Why didn't he listen to his other girl friend when she said the same thing?’)

ii. i told you i liked you, you said sober up.

“You like who?” Your friend, Isa’s eyes are as big as saucers. You regret telling her the moment you did.

You hide your face in your hands. “Yeah go ahead, say it even louder so the people at the back can hear you too.”

She grins at you apologetically, “Sorry about that. But why him? He’s like the last person a girl would like.” You raise an eyebrow at her “Half the girls in our grade used to obsess over him and youre saying this?”

“Point taken.”

You groan into your hands ``Why is this so hard oh god. Did I have to fall for him, out of all the people I would have liked.”

“Fall for who?”

You hear the familiar voice and look up to see Sunghoon and his other best friend, Jake (“Oh so you’ve replaced me now I see Hoon” “Please shut your mouth”)

You widen your eyes in panic. “Uh NO ONE. Pshh we were just joking around Hoon.” You see Isa smirking at you and glare at her. Sunghoon rolls his eyes, sitting down next to you and opening his lunch.

“I'm gonna find out sooner or later anyways so you should just tell me who this little crush is about.” He nudges you with his shoulder.

“No, I'd rather eat Jake's terrible pies.”

“Hey!”

iii. we’re perfect together but ill never be.

If you regretted telling Isa when you told her, you regretted it a lot more now.

You thought you'd be able to trust her with the secret, not having told anyone else. All that goes to shit when you find out that she not only told sunghoon, but also lied to your face.

You always had a pretty rocky friendship with her, and Sunghoon had already told you many times that he didn't trust her, but you’d ignore his words.

When you find out that she had told him, you were absolutely sure that hed never talk to you again, that you had officially, royally fucked up your friendship with him.

Isa was hanging out at your house when she left her phone out near you to go to the washroom, unlocked and in hers and Sunghoons chats. You really didn't care about what was on her phone and didn’t even want to pry, but a certain message caught your eye.

sunghoon: i think i'm gonna be nicer to her now that i know this

sunghoon: but like not in a way i lead her on

sunghoon: she's still my best friend yk

What the hell.

You opened the chat.

It was wrong of you to pry but you had a bad history with most of the girls in your class and they’d constantly bully you and lie to you, so you thought she was telling him shit about you.

Then you find out that she had told him everything about your crush on him and the two of them had talked about it in detail, even going to the length of planning how he'd act around you now.

‘Why would she tell him? I thought I could trust her with this.’ You thought. On top of it, you were so confused. What did he mean by he was going to be nicer to you since he knows? Was it going to be out of pity?

The last thing you wanted was to be like this.

You wanted to cry.

You remember telling her that she should leave, cooking up some random excuse. You don't really think she believed you but you promised you’d explain to her later on.

So he knows.

Now what? Is it gonna be awkward in school? What’s gonna happen?

You hated that you liked him.

iv. they think we’re together

Much to your surprise, he didn't make it awkward. Nor did he tell anyone else, promising to keep it just between the three of you.

He didnt even confront you about it, deciding against making you feel bad, since h truly cared about you.

He was actually nicer than before. A bit too nice.

Sunghoon usually never talked to many girls, or at least he thought most of them were bitchy. So him being your best friend was pretty much news to a lot of people.

There were already enough rumors that you and him were so close. To make it worse, the next day at school, during a free period, you, him and your small group of friends decided to have a pen fight.

It went really well and he was sitting opposite to you, your knees almost touching since you were sitting opposite on the same desk.

When you almost lost, he tried to say that you didn’t die and that your pen was still in the boundary so it didn't count and even went so far, claiming it as ‘Women's rights guys’. Your friend started making fun of you (“Yeah for sure.”)

You were even more surprised when he got up and walked over to your side, for his turn, leaning over your shoulder to hit his pen. You remember holding your breath in because he was so close to you.

This, obviously, did not go unnoticed by the other girls in the class. It was uncommon to see something like that.

You thought he was just teasing you like he normally did. But deep down you knew that he had never done something like that with you. Both of you always knew your limits and where to draw them when it came to terms of your friendship. But this was not normal.

You also thought that it would be a one time thing.

The next day, during your language class, he asked you to sit next to him when there was no other space. You would've taken a chair and put it next to one of your girl friends, but he insisted on making you sit next to him.

That wasn't all.

After a while, when everyone was fidgeting around and just talking, he noticed a sharpie and turned to you.

“Can you draw on my hand?”

What.

“What? Why?” you were clearly surprised. Sunghoon had never asked something like that to you, or any other girl for that matter. He just wasn't that type of person.

“Why not?” he fires back. You roll your eyes. “Fine. What do you want me to draw?”

“That weird skeleton thingy.”

“What the hell Sunghoon thats so emo.”

“Shutup and just draw it.”

When you imagined holding hands with Sunghoon, holding it while drawing on his hand is not what you had in mind.

You could tell he was a bit nervous too, by the way his hand was shaking slightly (which didnt make it any easier for you.)

“Stop shaking so much.” you whispered. “Sorry. I just can't help it.” He said.

You gulped back your emotions and tried to focus on the drawing, which wasnt really coming out expertly.

“Hoon c’mon I dont even know how to draw it properly. See, it looks like shit.” You hold up his hand to show him what youd drawn.

He wanted to laugh at it but he didnt. “Okay then ask someone to teach you how to draw it.”

There was only one person you knew who could draw said skeleton.

Isa.

“Hey Isa. You know how to draw this right? Teach Y/N how to do it too.” He called out to her. She raised her eyebrows. “But I'm not that great at it though.”

“Better than me for sure. Wait, why can't you just ask her to do it for you?” you ask your best friend.

“No you do it for me.”

V. every line i would write for you

This wasnt good.

Oh no this was nowhere near good.

Since when was Sunghoon this cute?

Your best friend usually went home by the bus since there was one that went directly to his neighbourhood. While you, on the other hand, went home by the subway. You could go by the bus, but it would take a while longer to reach home, and your mom always wanted you home by the earliest.

But there were a few days where you took an exception.

You were currently on the sub, texting Sunghoon.

gaeuls dad: so ur coming by bus tmrw right

you: i'll think abt it. depends on how quick mom wants me home

gaeuls dad: idc. js come w me tmrw

you: no

gaeuls dad: nooooo plsplsplspls

you: why cant u just ask dahyun to go with u? doesn't she always go the same way as you?

gaeuls dad: yeah but u also come

you: fine ill see (gaeuls dad liked this message)

Dahyun was a common friend of your boths, and a junior. You loved talking to her. You were very aware of Sunghoons and Dahyuns friendship. You knew that they texted a lot and Sunghoon didnt usually talk to younger girls. You didnt really think much of it, way too bothered by your own feelings for him.

Was he leading you on? There is no way he likes you as anything more than as just a friend. But then what were all of these mixed signals? All the subtly flirty texts and the weird behaviour in school?

Chances of him liking you back were small but not impossible. You knew you were giving yourself false hope by thinking that way. You needed to talk to someone about it.

“I personally think he might like you back.” was what Isa had told when you told her everything. You could only talk to her about it since nobody else knew about it.

“Now that he knows, he’ll start thinking of you more often, and maybe he needs some time to realize that he might like you back. Don't lose hope, okay?”

“Ill try not to. I just really don't understand what he's doing.”

Isa nodded her head in understanding,”I know you must be super confused right now. But don't worry, it'll be okay. At least you guys are still best friends! You thought you wouldn't even be his friend if he knew right?” She had a point.

You were more than sure that he'd cut off his friendship with you if he knew that you had romantic feelings for him. But he hadnt.

Maybe she was right.

Maybe there was a small chance for you.

vi. so ill stop being pretentious and loathing our friendship

There was no chance for you.

Just when you thought that things might be escalating for the two of you, you realized that it wasnt.

He talked to Dahyun way too often for your liking.

You had nothing against her, she was a really nice friend and you really did love her, but there was always that feeling of…resentment against her. Why couldn't it have been you?

What were you lacking? Was it your looks? Your body? Your personality?

What you thought was just a small crush on your best friend, turned out to be something much more, making you question yourself and your insecurities.

You hated the feeling.

You hated seeing their texts on her story. You hated the realization that maybe he hadnt really meant all those signals. You hated how he made you feel how you felt.

You wanted to be happy and cheerful whenever they'd send you something they had already sent to each other first, but your heart always tore a little more, everytime you did.

You hated the feeling of being the second option.

Why, just why couldn't it have been you?

You wanted to scream at him, tell him that you were there first, you had always been his friend, since childhood. She had just entered his life.

You also knew that he wouldn't ask her out.

Which angered you even more.

You don't know why, but it hurt more to just see them like each other; or rather see him slowly fall for her.

Truth be told, you didn't even know if he actually liked her either, but it looked that way for sure.

You tried to move on, you really did. You tried to ignore his messages and calls, tried to leave him on read and delivered for days, but your heart always found a way to go back to him.

You remember crying yourself to sleep for a few days because you had never felt so much love for one person ever before as you did right now.

And they didn't love you back.

He didnt love you back.

vii. its just like the novels

Sunghoon was in a state of dilemma.

Ever since he had gotten to know about your crush on him, he had no idea what to do.

You were constantly on his mind.

He would’ve told you that he liked you too, but he didnt see himself as worthy of being with someon like you. You always looked after him and you were always there for him.

He would do anything for you.

Anything but tell you that he wants you.

As much as he wanted you, he couldnt have you.

So he settled for Dahyun.

With Dahyun, he didnt have to think about anything, he could just be. And he liked that. He liked not having to worry about the whole thing.

What he hadn’t thought about was how hurt youd be if you found out that he and Dahyun were dating.

viii. you taught me a lesson, love isnt precious

Sunghoon and Dahyun were dating.

The news spread like wildfire, throughout the whole school. You couldn’t say you weren’t surprised. But that didnt make it hurt any less.

When you thought that your heart could finally do you no more damage, it got worse.

You couldnt bring yourself to look at him. When Dahyun texted you the news, you had left her on read, causing her to send a string of messages asking you what had happened and whether you were okay.

Damn you for being so nice and likeable Dahyun.

You knew you needed time away from them both. As much as it hurt, it had to be done.

So you stopped talking to him, and lost your best friend in the process.

i. but a footnote will do.

The last year of highschool.

You had not quite recovered yet, despite it being a year since they started dating.

Sunghoon and Dahyun were still together, and you knew you were out of the picture. Not entirely. You just wouldnt be the one standing next to him in all his big moments anymore. You wouldn’t be the one hugging him on his bad days, you wouldnt be the one laughing with him at his terrible jokes.

You wouldn’t be the one giving him all the love he needed.

Love is a bitch, you find out in your last year of highschool.

So you’ll just take a footnote in his life.

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kelso211 · 5 months

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I Fall In Love Too Fast - Part One

I’ve been wanting to get back into writing and I’ve been working on this Mike Faist fic for ages and it’s not finished yet, but I’ve decided to post what I’ve got so far because who knows when I will actually finish it. Feel free to leave feedback!

A couple of things - the “I love The Smiths” thing is not a 500 Days of Summer reference, just an annoying coincidence because I read an interview that said Mike listens to The Smiths haha. And the title is from a Chet Baker song which is another artist he listens to (according to this interview).

Enjoy!

Emily Dunberry knew she wasn't anything special. The middle of three daughters, she wasn't stunningly beautiful and charismatic like her older sister or hilarious and freakishly smart like her younger one. You'd never see a hair stylist replicating the plain brown of the locks that were most often in a messy bun atop her head, and she'd inherited her father's build in that she was rake thin with absolutely no curves anywhere. Even her height was exactly average, at 5 foot 4 inches.

It wasn't that she was ugly. She was just plain. Unremarkable. Forgettable.

She was creative though. Good at art. She'd topped all the visual arts classes at school and even as a sophomore was the best at doing makeup for the drama club's productions. No one was surprised when she pursued a career as a theatrical makeup artist. She was good at it too. By 27 she had a variety of jobs from film and TV under her belt.

That was how she met Mike.

Emily couldn't wipe the smile off her face as she looked around, taking in the enormity of what was happening. She'd worked a lot of cool jobs, but this one would have to be the best so far: Steven Spielberg's West Side Story. Her favourite musical of all time, with the best in the biz at the helm. She could hardly believe she was actually here.

It was early, and the sun had barely broken the horizon, and though she'd hardly slept the night before due to a mixture of excitement and nerves, the adrenalin pumping through her veins meant she wasn't sleepy. Her long brown hair was in its usual messy bun and her brush belt was secured around her waist.

One of the other artists nudged Emily as the door to the makeup trailer opened.

"Here we go".

It was only mid-morning, but it was warm in New York City in June. Mike Faist breathed a small sigh of relief at the feeling of air conditioning on his skin as he entered the makeup trailer. A PA ushered him towards the end to the vacant chair. He sat down, catching his reflection in the mirror as he did so. He was dressed in dark jeans and a blue striped t-shirt. There was a rosary around his neck and a silver bracelet on his wrist. He made eye contact with himself in the mirror and began his process of transforming himself from Mike, friendly neighbourhood working actor, into Riff, angry and reckless leader of the Jets.

Someone spoke to him and he jumped, having barely noticed when one of the MUAs had appeared in front of him.

"Sorry," the young woman said with a chuckle. Mike returned her smile.

"No, that's okay. Sorry - I was just... getting myself in the headspace, you know?" He spoke with an accent that wasn't his natural mid-western one but that of a boy from NYC in the 50s. He'd been doing it for weeks now and it came naturally, as if he'd been speaking in it his whole life.

"Oh yeah, for sure, don't let me interrupt. Sorry," she responded, looking at the laminated card in front of her with sketches and instructions about what makeup was required for this actor. Mike Faist, Riff.

"Do you two realise there's been three sorrys between you in the last 12 seconds?" One of the hair stylists remarked with amusement as she rubbed some gel between her palms and started working on Mike's hair.

He and the young woman exchanged a smile in the mirror.

"Do your thing," she said, picking up a make-up sponge and spraying something into it. "And I'll be quiet and do mine".

Mike laughed. "Okay, deal".

Emily dabbed at Mike's face softly with a sponge. There were no fights or hijinx in the scene they were shooting today so there was only minimal makeup required. She carefully applied his tattoos, and pretended not to notice the way his muscles rippled under her hands.

"Okay," she said softly, turning from the table and bending slightly. “Just tilt your face up for a minute, I need to do your scar". The character of Riff had a small scar under one of his eyes, presumably from a past rumble. She picked up a small angled brush and began painting, furrowing her brow.

“You’ll hurt yourself, concentrating that hard”.

Mike’s voice snapped her out of her focus haze. He’d only spoken softly, but her face was so close to hers that it didn’t matter, and while she didn’t reply, she did smile and shift her gaze slightly, so that she’d made eye contact with him.

Mike’s eyes, icy blue with a patch of brown in one thanks to heterochromia, locked with Emily’s emerald green ones, and for a moment everything went very, very quiet.

Emily's heart was pounding so hard it felt like it would rip out of her chest. Her breath caught in her throat and she broke the gaze, shifting her focus back to what she was doing.

"Okay," she said, putting down the setting spray she'd just used and standing back. "You're all done. Go make trouble for the PRs".

Mike laughed, and made a show of admiring her handy work in the mirror. "Well I look stunning, so thank you for your hard work..." he trailed off.

"Emily".

"Emily. Thank you".

"No problem. Good luck for your scene".

He gave her another smile as he exited the makeup trailer. Emily breathed out heavily, exhausted, and leaned back against the table. It was quieter in the trailer now; everyone had been makeup and sent to set so the only people who remained were crew members sipping from cups of water and checking their phones.

Sarah, a hair stylist who Emily had worked together before and was friendly with, elbowed her softly with a smirk.

“What?” Emily asked, though she had a feeling she knew what Sarah was going to say. She was cheeky, that’s for sure.

“That Mike Faist is cute, huh? I bet it’ll be a real chore having him in your chair every day”.

Emily rolled her eyes, the memory of their moment shared causing her heart to speed up again. She felt a blush creep across her face. She shook her head at her friend. "Come on, let's go check out craft services while there's still time".

It was hot. So hot that you could see the heat waves reverberating above the pavement as the sun beat down on it. Emily watched Mr Spielberg blocking out the scene and wondered how the bottoms of his shoes weren't melting.

They were shooting the prologue today. From her spot under the shade cloths with the rest of today's on set crew, she watched in awe as the Jets spun and leaped, making each movement seem effortless. Emily couldn't dance to save her life.

Each time cut was called, she and the other MUAs rushed in for sweaty touch ups.

"How's it looking?" Mike asked as Emily dabbed at his face. He was in her chair most days and they'd developed something of a friendship. Sarah liked to tease that he did that on purpose but really it was for continuity.

"Amazing," Emily gushed. "Its insane how you can move your body like that".

"Oh, so you were looking at my body then?" Mike quipped with a cheeky grin.

Emily felt her cheeks turn red. “N-no, I just meant...you know, the way you all dance is amazing...” She trailed off, hoping he hadn’t noticed the way her face was burning, or at least that he’d assume it was from the soaring temperature.

Mike winked at her playfully before jogging back to the Jets. Okay, so she had a little crush. It was hard not to, when he was so friendly and sweet every time she saw him. And, he was cute. That was definitely a contributing factor.

It didn't have to mean anything. She'd be on this job for a few months and then she'd probably never cross his path again and her crush on him would fade. And even if it didn't, who cares? He was Mike Faist, Tony nominee. She was... It didn't matter.

She would just enjoy her time, appreciate the work, and move on when it was over.

A few weeks later, Emily found herself alone in the makeup trailer. It had been a shorter day of filming that day and there were few people who hadn't left to go enjoy the summer sun. Emily had stayed back, tidying up her area and cleaning her brushes and sponges. She didn't have anywhere to be and she was in no rush to leave. Her two roommates with whom she shared a tiny apartment on the lower east side wouldn't be home for hours. Her family didn't live in New York and she didn't have any pets. Anyway, she enjoyed the quiet and the time to herself.

She carefully laid out the last of her clean brushes to dry and picked up her bag, sliding on her sunglasses as she stepped out of the air conditioned trailer. She was so lost in her own thoughts, debating whether she should walk home through Central Park or get the subway because it was really just so hot outside, that she didn't notice she was walking into someone until she'd already done it.

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry," she apologised in a hurry, taking one of her ear buds out. It was Mike. Of course it was.

He shook his head dramatically. "Jeez, Dunberry, watch where you're going!" But he said it all with a smile. She didn't know how he knew her last name, but it made her feel some kind of way that he did.

"My sincere apologies. I hope I haven't caused you any injuries, Steven would have my head". Mike pretended to check himself over.

"I think you're okay. This time". He shot her a grin and gestured towards his ear. "What are you listening to?"

"The Smiths" she replied, pausing the music and taking the other bud out so as to not be rude. She loved The Smiths.

"I love The Smiths", Mike said. "You heading off?"

"Yeah, all done for the day. You?" The began walking together off the lot.

"Yeah, I was just getting some practice in. I really need to nail the gym scene”.

“Oh yeah, like you don’t nail every scene”. She spoke without even thinking about what she was saying, and she wished she could pluck the words from the air and shove them back into her mouth before he heard them.

Mike smiled, and gave a small shrug. “This production, you know, it’s amazing, but it’s... hard work”. They were walking down the street now, as if they’d both decided that wherever they were going, they were going together. “I mean, it’s West Side, you know? And Justin’s choreography... and the other guys. It’s lucky I got Riff, coz I’m not good enough for anything else”.

“Not good enough?! Mike, you were in Newsies”.

“Yeah, pushing sets around,” he mumbled quietly. An awkward silence hung in the air.

Since production started, a storm cloud of imposter syndrome had hung over Mike. He hadn’t danced in over ten years ago, not properly, and never at the level that the other boys in the Jets - and the Sharks- could. Everyone always reminded him that he was in Newsies and therefore he must be able to dance but he didn’t see it that way - all that did was increase the amount of pressure he felt to be good enough. He was so happy to be part of this film, don’t get it twisted. But it was hard work and he was grateful every day that Justin Peck was patient enough for him to get up to snuff.

“I’m sorry if I...” Emily stammered, worried that she’d clearly struck some kind of nerve. “I didn’t mean to- I was just...”

“It’s okay, you didn’t,” Mike replied, the smile returning to his face. They’d stopped walking by now, and he placed his hand lightly on her arm. Emily looked down at it, her breath catching and her heart flip-flopping in her chest.

“You’re just really good at what you do, Mike. I hope you know that”, she said quietly, looking back up at him.

“So are you, Emily. I hope you know that”. Mike motioned towards the building they were stopped in front of, which was a bar. “This is me. You want a drink?”

She did. It was a thousand degrees out, and the thought of a cold beer was inviting. More importantly, was he asking to buy her a drink? Was Mike Faist... asking her out?

Before she’d had a chance to respond, she heard a familiar voice greet Mike from behind her. She turned as his gaze moved to over her left shoulder.

“Hey, Paloma,” she said, hoping that the actress playing Graziella would recognise her outside of the make-up trailer and she hadn’t just embarrassed herself. Paloma Garcia-Lee was intimidating - her beauty, her confidence, her talent. You couldn’t hate her for any of it either because she was so, so nice.

“Hi, Emily!” Paloma replied. She stood next to Mike, wrapping her arm around his. Grazi is Riff’s girlfriend, and seeing them together like this made Emily wonder if their onscreen relationship had developed into an offscreen one. “Are you joining us?”

“Oh, no,” Emily shook her head. God, she was so stupid. Of course Mike wasn’t asking her out. Why would he? Why would anyone? “Thank you, for the offer, but I have plans already. Have fun!” She plastered on her best smile and gave a little wave. “See you in the trailer!”

And then she went home to her empty apartment, had a bowl of cereal for dinner, and went to bed.

#mikefaist #mikefaistfanfic #west side story #mike faist #riff west side story #mike faist fanfic

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nanoa1foryou · 3 months

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So, that's all songs listened to and digested. Here's my ranking!

Vox Populi

Paskana

Kuori Mua

Mania

No Rules!

Glow

Dancing With Demons

To be fair, this year is incredibly evenly matched. These songs are all very different (as tends to be with only 7 participants), but more than that, they are all really good. I don't think I'd be upset if any of these won.

Anyway, Vox Populi wins by virtue of being most my style. Rock elements, Finnish rap, Estonian rap, weird funky stuff. What's not to love? It's also very memorable, and all the parts fit together very well without being too messy nor too even and boring.

Paskana is just an incredible piece. It reaches the audience and Sara is truly the vocal talent the teasers promised.

Kuori mua is fun. I think it wins by being outstanding in it's own way. But it is still missing something to me that pushes it a bit further down.

i've been listening to Mania a lot actually. I really personally love it. But the heavier sound makes it enjoyable in a very different way that doesn't extend to UMK quite as well. Middle of the board.

No Rules is fun! It's exciting and it's weird and fun. But it's not the only song here that is weird and fun and wild. I am excited to see where Mr Windows goes from here, and I think participating can only end well for him no matter how he places. Something about it just isn't my thing.

Glow is good. I really liked it and if I listened to it right now I'd say yeah I like that song, it's good. The problem is that out of this bunch of songs it's currently the only one I can not bring to mind. I remember it being fun and liking it and I think if it'd came on the radio I'd turn it up. But I have no actual memory of this song, so it ends up bottom of the board. If it's not enough for me to bring to mind properly, it's not for me.

Dancing With Demons is very Cyan Kicks, It's also not anything in particular. It doesn't draw my attention. And that is what I want from rock. Something that keeps me engaged. Something that hits me in the face and doesn't let me go. So out of this bunch it's my least favourite.

I'm not gonna start theorising on placement because this is UMK and the only thing that matters is live performance, which we'll only get much later. This is just my own ranking of them.

#umk24 #umk 2024 #uuden musiikin kilpailu

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thevelvs · 1 year

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※·✿·※LORE: Velv names, their rules※·✿·※

Velv names and traditions around them.

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Velvs have specific naming rules that have roots in decades, hundreds and thousands years of traditions passed down from generation to generation.

•THEIR FIRST NAME (the one they use when speaking to others) is a name given to them by their family — when choosing one, not only their parents are present, but also uncles, grandparents, and in the case of families with many children, even older siblings. Sometimes it can lead to some sorts of playful bickering if the family has troubles with picking the one they think fits the best, and can end up with all parties leaving to come back the next day to give their final opinions. It is important to make a good choice since this name Velv will use their whole life and cannot change; they can, of course, hide the name from folks they do not trust or introduce themselves with second and third name but they do not by any means renounce the first name because in Velv culture, such a thing means rejecting family ties as well as the privilege of reincarnation!

Those names can have as many syllables as possible; some of them can have up to even eight or nine (Kha-ra-me-no-ta-ta-be-lal), with longer names often shortened to two or three (Kha-ra-me, Kha-ra-me-no or Tabelal). The shortest names have two letters (such as Bo or Ly), with average names being made of two or three syllables (Zo-uchi, Do-ura), being rather short and easy on the tongue. All first names have hidden meanings behind them; it can be quality of a kit like "fierceness" (Peqqy from "peqqo") or "reserved" (Opulla from "Opulle, opet"), a plant or animal they resemble (Qiko from "qikli" or sound bird-like species make), and in longer names cases even whole descriptives — Kharameno-ta-tabelal "crimson prince" with "kharameno" meaning "crimson and "tabelal" meaning "prince".

Velvs are very fond of using doubled vowels ("aa", "ee", "oo", "ae", "ea", "oa" and so on), mostly in the middle of the name ("Noury", "Kaali", "Raobe", "Haamon"), less commonly on the name's end ("Baa", "Omai", "Apkoo") and sometimes on the very beginning of the name "Aado", "Ean", "Iilla"). Doubled vowel of the same sound (double "aa", "ee", "ii") puts emphasis on this part of the name ("AAdo", "kAAli", "IIlia") while doubled vowels of different sounds ("ou", "ao", ea") put emphasis in 85% examples on the second vowel while the first stays silent ("NoURY", "RaOBE", "EaN"). They are Lso fond of using double consonants ("Alle", "Allih", "Bellal", "Zeqqe").

•THEIR SECOND NAME is a name that Velv's parents choose for them. This is the kit's family name, serving them like a surname of sorts, as important — if not (socially) more — as their first name; never used for introductions, being a name that Velv uses only around the closest Velv-folk and people they want to let in closer. Revealing this name is some sort of confession among young Velvs, or at least a sign to the other party that this Velvie views them as someone important of highest priority (since only family and partners know this name). While it is not commonly used in daily face to face interactions, it is very important for their bearers to remember and cherish it, sharing it only with those who will treat it with utmost respect. That's why, even if someone knows the other's family name, calling their interlocutor by their first name — not the family one — is a sign of good manners.

Those names are formed after ikko's and mua's (parents) names with, sometimes, addition of a single letter (rarely syllable). It means that kit born from Velv named Kaali and Bellal can end up with their family name being "Kaallal", "Lillal", "Beali", "Llalaali", "Kabell" and any other formation of those two names (taking any syllables that one can find in either of names). Sometimes names of parents are short like Bo and Aada, resulting in the family name being "Boada" or "Aadabo", unless another letter or syllable is added — with syllables "re" it will look like "Boreada", "Reaadabo", "Roboaada" and so on. In general however, adding additional letters or syllables is practice that does not happen often. All kits of those same parents will have different formations of their ikko's and mua's names!

•THIRD NAME in short is a name a Velv gives themself after achieving adulthood (which starts around 22 Velv years, but can start in some individuals at 25 years old). It means that a Velv, who has reached a specific age range, maturity, and is ready to be regarded an adult by their society, "chooses" their third name in a rite known as Maatari (roughly meaning "before (adulthood)") the exact night before the celebration of Naatari (basically meaning "after (adulthood)"). It can happen the same day as Velv's birthday or during any other day that will be known as their "name day" later on and celebrated as such. However, the manner in which this ritual is performed is unique in and of itself; during the day, young Velv bathes in purifying springs, puts on traditional robes, and then either ikko or mua serves them the so-called tari — tea with sleeping properties that, according to traditional Velv beliefs, connects the individual's consciousness with the "awareness of the world." The ritual is then taking place in a dream in which Velv is asked questions by the universum and receives the name as a gift from the planet or, on a wider scale, the cosmos.

Those names do not have to have any definition behind them as the fact alone they were given to a Velv by the world is in itself very meaningful and important to them.

In summary, all Velvs have three names: soul name — family name — dream name.

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#closed species #original species #alien #alien species #Velvs #Velvenuuns

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jasonblaze72 · 2 years

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jaybybyby · 2 years

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what are your watcher grian hcs? :D

OOOHHHKKAAYYYYY TIME TO RAMBLE TY ANON ILY MUA MUA

READ MORE UNDER THE THE CUT CUZ THIS IS GONNA BE A LONG ONE

EDIT: Martyn has confirmed recently that NO, he is not a Listener, he was just working for them! This post will be edited with that in mind

so first i wanna put an emphasis on hierarchy. i sorta just Made My Own Thing for this so this is gonna get very ooc but y'know. it goes like this

Top - Watchers/Listeners

Middle - Players

Bottom - Viewers

Watchers/Listeners are the ones that can physically affect worlds, and players/viewers can become watchers in two different ways

players can become watchers if they're chosen by them, but they cannot become watchers by themselves

viewers can become watchers themselves when they heavily affect a world that they're not a direct part of (for example: i view sad-ist as a watcher, as her animations have heavily affected how the dsmp fandom/ccs interact with the characters), but they cannot be chosen by watchers to become one

listeners, on the other hand, are an entirely different story. i can imagine they're nearly as powerful as, if not as powerful as watchers, however they're seen as weaker due to not really liking to interact with worlds as much (even though they very much can and will if they deem it necessary), which has caused there to be confusion especially among newer listeners, or those who work for listeners, like Maryn, who the watchers take advantage of (y'know, squash their hopes before they even realzie they can overthrow you, all that junk)

players can become listeners kind of like how they become watchers? they're chosen by listeners, but it's not a "hey, we're taking you from your world to be a listener" sort of thing. given their much more subtle nature, i can imagine instead it'd just be that they give a player the ability to become a listener, and whatever path that player chooses dictates whether they grow into the mold or not, awakening more listener powers, etc

grian is a watcher, obviously. he was chosen by the watchers and taken from evosmp by force, but he managed to get away, joining hermitcraft and watching over it in order to make sure no watcher disturbs it or attempts to change anything about it (imo, i feel like 3rd/last life would be worlds he created to throw the watchers off his track, but that's just me)

(focusing away from hc for a second tho, i kinda feel like drista/mumza are both watchers for the dsmp. nobody said gods couldn't be watchers, right? drista isn't exactly a member of the server, but has heavily affected it and its world lore in multiple ways, same with mumza and the fact that she is canonically the goddess of death and can create entire forests, yet she isn't a member of it either 👀👀👀)

#mcyt #llsmp #evosmp #hc #last life smp #watchers #evo watchers #watcher grian #listener martyn #evolution smp #yes i'm bad at tags shut #rambles #anon

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nightswithkookmin · 3 years

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Jimin is a pretty bOY

This is a continuation of our discussion on my last post. Thanks for sharing your thoughts with me, I think I agree with all of it.

Not sure how I feel about the calling eachother out bit or near scolding of others in the comments. Please let's be welcoming and respectful of others's thoughts regardless of whether or not we agree with it. It's ok to hold diverse views. We do after all come from different backgrounds and have accumulated different experiences and I think it plays out in how we see things. Everyone's opinion is valid. Plus, I purple yall.

Now, do I think he is trying to pack on muscles........? Yes. He said so himself in Festa when he said he would rush to the mirror when he thought he had gained some muscle only to find out his biceps looks like a muscled kindergartner.

He also said lately he's into exercising and staying in shape which is true because for quite sometime now since early this year he has been talking about how "weak" he is in their Vlives and have even given instances of him not being able to do certain things- certian simple and easy tasks- which is typical of him I'd say. He's always talking about how "weak" he is especially around JK and juxtaposing that with "but JK is so strong" which I'm sorry but I have to smirk at right now cos it's such a typical gay pick me simp thing to do. We've all been there.

Do I think he's trying to be a muscle bunny or revert back to his body shape around debut? Absolutely not. But I do think he is straddling the line of toxic masculinity which is what the conversation is about.

I don't think there's anything wrong with wanting to stay in shape or even enjoying work outs. Last night I ran downstairs because I had left my stew on the stove and now this morning I called renew my gym membership because I discovered running can be actually fun to do... No. No it's not. The gym instructor would have to come for me kicking and screaming.

RM have said even though JM looks skinny and fragile he is one of the strongest within the group. Besides, this is not the first time he's expressed interest in working out and building his body- hello, on Era?

I remember people complaining he looked too buffed up in that period on SNS and PJMs quickly jumping in to clear the searches for it. The choreo for On required agility and endurance and required the members- not just JM build up some definition in their muscles.

We've seen them go through all that. So it's not simply a matter of black and white staying in shape or doing it because he feels pressured to do so. Especially, when you consider that he's undertaken some pretty unhealthy measures in the past in attempts to lose weight or soften out his body post these muscle building, weight gaining periods and we've always chalked it up to his dance and how as a contemporary dancer he has to look a certain way or this or that to try to justify and make sense of it. Next you, know there are six chapters of break the silence of him talking about all the dark places he's been, the pressures to look his best for his fans or for his job and all these other painful stories he's shared with us over the years. And it's like, but why? Why do this to yourself?

I'll never forget the look he gave JK when JK was talking about wanting to build muscles in one of the interviews for the promotion of Be- I think I made a post on it. When JK noticed JMs disapproving glare he backtracked saying he would want to stay skinny after gaining all that muscles.

I mean if I'm to be honest, he was bound to crack at one point. The signs were there being surrounded by all these men who adhere to the traditional aesthetics of a masculine body- from Namjoon to Taehyung.

I wish y'all will steer the conversation in this direction and make it more about gender norms and expressions and breaking stereotypes and diversity in the body aesthetics of men.

Jimin is a man too. He just isn't what people traditionally will label masculine. Androgynous is more an apt word in my opinion. How many times have I said, I think Jungkook hetero passes because his body aesthetics is quintessentially what most associates with a masculine man?

Breaking gender barriers is not just about embracing feminine apparels- that teeters on cross dressing quite frankly and can be a bit performative and baity. Then you have to consider their culture in itself has an inherent pro gender diversity feel to it.

Now, let me explain my problem with the Klout ad campaign a little bit.

Do you see how Tae stands out? And I'm not saying this to fuel the "Tae was their fav" debacle. It's the 007 feel... I'll explain in a bit.

Most often, alcohol advertisers as well as most advertisements intended to sell to men often try to appeal to men's internalized ideals of masculinity or try to shape and define what a man or masculinity should look like. These ideals are so often toxic and detrimental to men and mostly women too.

Take a look at these ads for example. All I had to do was google search ads for men.

Real men drink milk and look at the image they present as real men. This blatantly implies if you don't look like this, if you are not a strong cliff climbing man with abs you are not a real man.

The second image is subtle. I call it the 007 slash Kingsmen-esque ideals of masculinity. It portrays men as sexy cool badass- works out but isn't too buff, filthy rich or middle class, wears Rolex, designer clothes, is kind but has a mean exterior and is every 13 year old wattpad girls's dream of a man. In fiction, you see this kind of masculinity in characters such as Edward cullens to Christian Grey. And a lot of ads for men alternate between these two ideals of masculinity.

Do you see how they modeled Taehyung in these ads after this kind of masctheme? Tae looks the same in almost all the ads. 007 sexy cool badass.

Now, I may not be a makeup beauty guru or MUA or whatever, but one thing I've picked up on especially when it comes to makeup for men- BTS and Kpop idols mostly is that, they soften out the harsh features on their faces and make them appear more androgynous or effeminate to suit the Kpop look and they ditch it entirely in different settings.

So for instance, Tae and Kookie's natural hawkish eyebrows tend to get softened around the arch and edges- don't know how the fuck they do that- but it appears less in your face intense most times when they wear make up in kpop related contents.

However, in certain other contents that lean towards a certain gender theme those features are emphasized. Not to say hawkish features are masculine features. Just saying in men, Kpop idols, my observation is they soften those features out with makeup or surgery.

Now, take a look at JM in these ads and look at everything from his posture, make up, hairstyle and brows. It's as if someone took an eraser to his androgynousity and erased his feminine side. Take a look at his photo above and compare it to the ads.

I am not a man. But I feel the gender look they went for, intended to appeal to men, tapped into a rather outdated stereotype of what man and masculinity should look like.

What is a man?

What should a man look like?

What aesthetics of masculinity is Jimin gravitating towards now? And I'm not talking clothes, I'm talking the expression of his gender. Time and again, he's talked about how looking a certain way made him uncomfortable in the past because he was constantly fighting his feminine side. He is androgynous. Sometimes he leans more into his feminine side. Other times he leans more into his masculine side but this is the only time he's leaning into his masculinity that makes me uncomfortable to watch because like I said it bothers on toxic masculinity.

He's said whoever he was, the version fighting to look masculine, that wasn't him. So forgive me if I worry whenever i see him suppressing his feminine side and acting like 'one of the boys.' Him staying in shape is not synonymous with him erasing a valid part of himself or suppressing it. He can stay in shape, celebrate his masculinity and still be FILTER.

What I'm saying is, this not a conversation about him exercising. This is a conversation about an ad erasing his feminine side and boxing him into a narrow expression of his gender and how that might be affecting his view of himself especially in the way he's been gravitating towards a certain masculine aesthetics and how that could be toxic.

Tae has said the same thing and BTS have agreed the JM as of 2019 was the real JM according to them.They said he was that way- suppressing his feminine side, because there weren't much songs and choreos that suited him and so he had had to bend himself to fit with the others.

And so when I see him leaning a certain way I tend to wonder if his exterior environment is playing a role in that. I hope you can understand that.

He is a contemporary dancer and strength and flexibility are prerequisites for his craft. The company go out of their way to incorporate contemporary dance in their choreos for JM's sake which helps solve that problem of him trying too hard to look a certain way.

May be I'm projecting. May be my little brother is effeminate and I've always recommended Jimin as a role for him to tell him not to try to look different just because other boys look different. May be I've seen him try one too many times to kill himself in the gym trying to build on muscles and getting frustrated with himself because he ends up looking like someone else. You can't gym the queerness away. Society will never let you be who you want to be so you might as well flip it the middle finger.

These boys are being shaped by their environment. I hate to say this but the environment they are in isn't exactly progressive and the longer they stay in there cut off from the outside world...

Flying out helps. Meeting different people and being exposed to different cultures and conversations on gender expression helps.

Anywho, these are just concerns I have. Will have them till I see that's not where he is headed towards. But let's not act like these ad campaigns do not and can not psychologically impact these boys especially as these advertisers are not looking to tap into their own definition of gender and masculinity but shape it and redefine it to appeal to the demographic they intend to market to.

I think this is just a grey area for me. Rather than try to change JM to look a certain way in order to sell alcohol. I think the ground breaking thing would be to have a man who looks like JM show us how someone like him would sell a can of drink. I think that would be revolutionary.

Signed,

GOLDY

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hualianff · 3 years

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ASMR/Streamer AU

Thinking about an AU with video-game streamer HC and ASMRist XL. Both have huge followings on Youtube and other social media; both never show their faces.

On his channel, MantouASMR, XL uses audio from everyday things like cutting fruit or typing at his computer. Other times, he plans out a general script to help his viewers sleep or motivate them for the day. XL writes and reads his own poetry, as well as sings on his channel too.

XL strives to be the most attentive and considerate content creator. He is constantly reading his viewers’ comments and taking up their suggestions for future videos. Anything to help his viewers get through their day or lift their mood.

(One time, XL read a comment from the parent of a child who was MantouASMR’s superfan. XL’s voice apparently helped their son sleep when he’s scared of the monster under his bed. In his next “Time to Sleep” video, XL iterated a short thank you message for the son and his parent for listening and watching his videos, and he hoped he could continue helping in the future.)

(Another time, XL read a comment from a student who said his voice helped her concentrate on her maths homework—though she mentioned she still doesn’t understand integrals and derivatives. The following day, XL uploaded an ASMR math lesson.)

XL’s voice is known to be very soothing, his whispers as airy and delicate as a spring breeze. His lower register is smooth like honey, and anyone who happens to hear his melodious laughs on a live stream instantly falls in love with his character.

On the other hand, HC’s voice is enticingly deep but has a deadly edge to it. He has no shortage of vulgar language, especially when it comes to playing with other streamers. When HC posts an occasional video that’s not video-game-related such as a rare Q&A, he’s somewhat more pleasant.

Of course, HC is incredibly grateful for his followers’ support. He just finds himself involved in too much internet bullshit even when he respectfully minds his own business. HC supposes that it comes with being China’s number one video game streamer—Crimson Rain Ghost King—watched by millions all around the globe. However, this doesn’t stop HC from being vocal about his opinions and expressing himself without giving a fuck what others thought.

Naturally, HC and XL are in completely separate circles on the Youtube platform. As far as their fans are concerned, a mellow ASMRist and a brash gamer don’t interact with each other...

Here’s the catch: Hualian are secretly married.

XL and HC have been together for over ten years now—married for just under three years. They felt no need to disclose their full relationship when HC began gaining popularity as a streamer, nor when XL’s channel tripled in size a few years later.

In his lives, XL often mentions his mysterious husband a lot. For the third anniversary of his channel, XL retells his wedding day. The picture for the video is of HC’s and his intertwined hands with a red string attaching their middle fingers.

HC was the first one to subscribe to XL’s channel (from a side account). He never fails to remind XL that “Gege has many gifts to share with the world.”

Out of nowhere, a trashy review journal bashes XL’s videos, calling them unoriginal and lowkey creepy because XL is “...a full-grown man whispering random shit that people love for some reason.” HC tries to keep XL from reading the article, but he’s too late. What’s worse is that other media sites speculate XL’s identity after, trying to expose him.

XL has experienced media backlash in the past. This event has him revisiting trauma where he nearly lost everyone in his life. He also went through severe depression and has developed major anxiety since then. One of the main reasons XL started his Youtube channel was because he wanted to be the person of comfort he wished he had had during those dark times.

Witnessing how affected XL is by the article and online hate, HC’s already-thin patience is close to snapping. That specific journal does nothing but writes drama-seeking shit about creators with a notable platform–HC included. Not that he gives a fuck about it.

Except they made XL their next target, and that is unacceptable. HC promptly makes a video grilling the hell out of the journal and the writer who published the article, making it very clear that, “Whoever reads and supports this bullshit are the scum of the Earth.”

HC uploads the video, then proceeds to make a XL-care-burrito. He feeds his husband, keeps him warm, and cuddles him all day. After dinner, XL feels renewed with energy, thoroughly enjoying his Saturday with his biggest, most devoted fan. XL decisively unwraps himself from the burrito and goes to make that sewing tutorial ASMR video he planned for the weekend.

HC’s viewers are once again curious as to if he has connections to XL. They begin digging up evidence but after the short investigation, it seems not to be the case.

Of the two instances XL couldn’t edit out him saying his husband’s name on live, no one seemed to agree on what the two muffled syllables were. XL never shows above his chest (he wears a facemask in case of a slip-up) or goes into too much detail with his stories. Both XL and HC’s other social media accounts are squeaky clean. Plus, you can count on one hand how many times HC has mentioned anything about his personal life.

Their fans stop their analysis, for the most part; XL’s viewers adamant about protecting his privacy and HC’s viewers not wanting to piss their idol off.

With Youtube being an important and time-consuming side of their life, XL and HC make sure to balance their personal, professional, and romantic lives as best as they can, or re-evaluate priorities when things begin to go downhill.

In addition to streaming, HC works as an animator for a respectable company. He has flexible work conditions and schedules.

HC during his stream debuting a new popular game: “I helped make this game, of course I know what I’m doing.” XL watches from the side wearing an adoring and proud smile.

XL is an open and free-spirited soul, so he switches side jobs often such as a barista, salesman, model, etc.

HC’s other hobbies include photography, music, traditional art, and bowling. (He has impeccable aim for obvious reasons.) XL enjoys seeing his friends (SQX, MUA; MQ, lawyer; FX, lawyer), cooking, reading, and skateboarding.

Extras:

-HC often streams with XL in his lap.

-Hualian create NSFW ASMR for themselves.

-(HC in their bed, listening to one of XL’s ASMR videos...

XL, smiling like a minx and slipping into bed shirtless: “Why watch my video when you have the real thing right here?”)

-Someone edits a comedic video with XL and HC’s voices, comparing their styles and approaches to speech. It garners lots of attention for their respective channels, the hashtag #mantouxcrimson ??? trending for a few days.

Video title: You’re friends with both Mantou Gege and Crimson Rain

(In the video)

Situation 1: You haven’t started your homework and it’s already midnight.

XL’s voice: “Whatever you do, don’t put too much pressure on yourself. You can’t do things well if your mind is unwell. Try to finish the things that need to be done, but be kind to yourself~~”

HC’s voice: “You little fucker, what have you been doing this whole time!? If you don’t do your job in the next five seconds, I’ll make sure to bury your worthless dead body where no one can find you-“

(Brainchild with @no-one-says-hi)

#tgcf #heaven official's blessing #hualian #hualian au #xie lian #hua cheng #tian guan ci fu #cerdrabbles #I love them #hualian invented love

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cult-of-artemis-and-athena · 3 years

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What the fuck is "femininity", anyway? Pt. 2

I was watching a video a few months ago about Evangelical Christians complaining about what they perceived as androgyny - women wearing pants and not having long hair, men not going fishing or wearing beards - and then said something to the effect of "These people are straying from God's design!"

I suppose the Bible does have some parts that can be construed as saying that women should have long hair, men should have short hair, and they should both look different and do different things. However, wearing certain clothes or hairstyles, or doing the majority of tasks don't have a biological component. If men were naturally, biologically, by-God supposed to have short hair, it should grow to be an inch long and stop, right? I've seen some Christians rebut the "only men can wear pants" argument on the basis that the stereotypical Christian man wouldn't like, nor properly fit into a pair of women's pants. I would take that a step further, because I think it's hilarious, and say that if women wearing pants were a 100%, by-God biological impossibility, they would have one leg, or be like nagas or mermaids and it would be physically impossible to make pants for them.

Another example: musical instruments are assigned gender stereotypes for some fucking reason. A friend from middle school said she wanted to play the trumpet, but was given a clarinet because it was a "feminine" instrument. Conversely, I've seen boys who started school band on a flute or clarinet either switch instruments, or quit band altogether. Perhaps small hands make it easier to play the piccolo, and it's less annoying for a strong person to carry around a tuba, upright bass, or bari sax, but there's no reason for the player's genitals to enter the equation. During the 18th century, the acceptability of an instrument for women was based on whether the player had to spread their legs to play it. Pianos, violins/violas, and flutes were allowed, but a cello was indecent. I'm not sure, then, how harps became stereotyped as "feminine instruments" when they're both gigantic and require the player to straddle them...but here I am trying to make sense of nonsense again...

Finally - and this is the big one - there is the downright schizophrenic relationship some male communities have with female attractiveness and things women do, or have done to them, to change how they look in pictures and videos.

I feel I must preface the rest of this point with something: "men" and "women" are not hive minds, and it's important to not strawman half the population based on a conglomeration of the worst representatives you have experienced. If you go outside, in real life, and think about the couples you see, it becomes very obvious that the majority of men you will see are attracted to women who aren't skinny blondes with big boobs/asses and the majority of women you see are attracted to men who aren't 6-/7-figure earners. People who seem to express that they are totally alone and perpetually shit-on by a world of "Chads" and "Staceys" feels like the same type of mindset school kids have, where they obsess over not being included by the popular kids while they're befriended and included just fine by kids they actually have more in common with. It's not a healthy mindset to have, but excusable in school kids because kids are immature by nature and they mostly grow out of it; however, to be an adult and still think like this is a good sign to get help.

I'm talking primarily about the incel community and perhaps some of the groups that this mentality spills into.

A post was going around several years ago and I think the photos were taken from a clickbait which was taken from a makeup artist's portfolio. The MUA might actually have been Goar Avetisyan (https://www.goaronline.com/courses) but the before and after pictures resembled the ones on the link above -- one with absolutely no makeup or hair styling, and then the other with full glam, special occasion makeup and styled hair, a wig, extensions, etc. The way it was presented was "LOOK! HERE'S PROOF W*MEN AREN'T ACTUALLY HOT! WAKE UP SHEEPLE! THEY'RE LYING TO YOU! ILLUMINATI EXPOSED!!!!"

I can see why they're mad, because the dishonesty surrounding makeup, but especially photoshop, plastic surgery, posing, and airbrushing can get toxic. I'm old enough to remember the old-fashioned mindset where women were supposed to hide their "beauty secrets". Don't apply makeup in public, keep your roots touched up so nobody knows they're dyed, and if you have any treatments or surgery always deny having them. Wear your makeup to bed, then wake up early and fix it before your guy sees you.

I couldn't imagine how awful I would feel if I had Instagram or TikTok when I was growing up. I had enough moments of feeling frustrated because I didn't naturally look how other people looked, and I didn't realize that people in TV and movies were wearing makeup, that magazine ads were photoshopped, etc. Just being an extremely average-looking human being with no concept of basic grooming, comparing myself to other kids at school was hard enough without the rapist-run media adding another layer of bullshit.

When I realized the layers of lies, it was like...how long have I been wasting my time and money on this totally made-up problem? How much did I actually improve my life and happiness chasing it? Or, did it actually make me more miserable? How much could I have accomplished if I put the same amount of angst into a different pursuit -- instead of fixing my face, I could have been fixing my art...When it comes to pursuing an unattainable ideal, there is no end to the horror.

So, I suppose, when a group of men (...boys, whatever) realize that "hot women" are a spook, and the the ethereal creature they've been told by society to put on a pedestal is actually not far removed from them, and it shits and farts, it seems very reasonable to feel angry and like you've been taken for a ride by "the system". It can be easy to blame women for this, and hate them. And it's probably easy to get stuck here.

Instead of being perpetually angry, they have to mourn the death of this ethereal spook-woman, and move on with an acceptance of reality as it is. Women, too, have to kill and mourn the spook-woman as part of self-acceptance.

One positive evolution of the makeup fandom is that while the makeup has gotten more intense and elaborate, makeup tutorials have demystified makeup. When tutorials started to become popular, there was a lot of "Excuse my eye-circles, excuse my pimple, excuse my skin, excuse my hair, excuse my lighting, excuse my room, excuse my, excuse my, excuse, excuse, excexcexcexCEXEXEXEXEXEX- *boom*" and thankfully someone eventually came along ($10 says it was a drag queen) and said, "SHUT THE FUCK UP, NOBODY CARES," and eventually the makeup fandom became okay with letting a bare face be a bare face. You wear the makeup, you don't wear the makeup. It doesn't matter. It's just a hobby.

To refer back to my original point, the confusion of makeup (something culturally feminine) with biological femininity has really fucked up both men and women. Everyone is better off extracting the two from one another, and it seems like many people are in the process of doing that. It helps women hate themselves less, and it helps men humanize women and have better relationships.

However, the image of the spook-woman, "10/10 model" is so ingrained in some parts of the culture, as the apex of the vertex of femininity, that despite complaints about how makeup is a lie, discarding that in favor of just a healthy, bare-faced woman feels like embracing post-modernity and a slippery slope to embracing ugliness as beauty. I think the lack of exaggerated femininity that spook-woman makeup provides feels threatening because the woman's face looks more masculine in a purely relative sense. The exaggerated femininity of the spook-woman, as it is for the Evangelical Christians who follow strict gender roles, provides additional separation between the sexes which serves to reassure men who are A) preoccupied with their level of masculinity and B) hyper-aware of their standing toward the bottom of this hierarchy of masculinity. I think the entire hierarchy benefits from them being placated by more separation from women, because if the bottom whatever percent of men are too dissatisfied with their standing, they may start punching upwards or wanting to attack the hierarchy itself. The men at the top don't want that because of the benefits they receive for being at the top.

MGTOW and the incel movement really kicked off after Gamergate, and intensified with subsequent "waves" of feminism. The discontent men direct their frustration at women, but they also direct their frustration at the men not troubled by what women do. There's suddenly a lot of interest in whether you're an alpha, a beta, a gamma, omega, a sigma, a ligma male, etc. and which one is the better type of male to be. There's a lot of hatred for "Chads" and I see a lot of jealousy directed toward men who are married and have families, usually in the form of "She's just gonna divorce you, take half your shit, and then manipulate your kids to hate you. You'll see...you'll realize you should have spent your whole life banging whores."

This all seems like the result of the ol' spending money we don't have to buy things we don't need to impress people we don't like. This is undoubtedly the idealist in me, men and women would be better off to cut each other some slack. We could see one another as fellow tragic, flawed individuals instead of fleshlights and ATMs, escape the Matrix and spit in the faces of our rapist, media elite overlords.

#femininity #performative femininity #mgtow #mass media #makeup #spooks #traditional gender roles #women don't exist #gender roles are a spook #hollywood rapists #jordan peterson #stop putting women on pedestals

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catboymingi · 4 years

Text

[02:48]

navi/masterlist

pairing: mingi x reader

genre: somewhat angsty, fluff

word count: 1.3k

warnings: reader has insomnia - hallucination mention though not described in detail

sun sanat menee kuuroille korville / suutele mua kerran niin et mä tunnen sen / näytä mulle pantomiimi - your words fall on deaf ears / kiss me so i can feel it / show me without words

you didn’t realise you’d missed your insomnia medication before you went to sleep - you’d forgotten and so had mingi, who, once you had reassured him that missing any of the mystery pills you took every night wouldn’t hurt you, had relaxed about trying to remember on your behalf, and you hadn’t had any more issues falling asleep than you usually did when around mingi (who kept you up until he deemed it an appropriate time to sleep, at which point you usually took your medication). but when you woke up in the middle of the night, panic quickly taking over your body, you knew something was wrong. you saw someone staring right at you, a figure that had no business being in your boyfriend’s bedroom, and you knew that if you in any way made it known that you were awake you would be in big trouble. you tried to keep your breath slow, regular, so it wouldn’t give you away, but your heart was racing. you needed mingi to protect you, but he was still sleeping and you couldn’t say anything to wake him up because that’d give you away. so you pinched the arm that was wrapped around you, as hard as you could, then scratched him, and, when nothing helped, slowly took his hand and moved it to your mouth, eyeing the creature to make sure it hadn’t caught on yet, before taking one of mingi’s fingers into your mouth and biting down as hard as you could.

this worked, the boy shuffling behind you, a sign that he was waking up, before cursing loudly. his voice made you flinch, the sudden volume unexpected, but you could see the creature fade away with a hateful expression on its face as he sat up, his finger no longer trapped in your mouth.

“what on earth was that for?” he sounded somewhat angry, and you couldn’t blame him - you hadn’t been gentle, but that had kind of been the whole point. you needed him there, needed him awake, and pain was the quickest and most effective way you could come up with. so instead of replying you turned to face him, grabbing whatever limb of his was closest to you. that was his thigh, and the unusual choice of body part made him realise something was wrong.

“nightmare?” his voice was much softer now, though the sleep was still apparent, and you felt bad for having woken him up now. it suddenly felt like a massive overreaction - yeah, you’d been scared for your life, but past experience should have taught you that you’d be fine either way. it wouldn’t have been the first night you’d spent all but holding your breath, hoping to fall asleep again.

“something like that. i’m sorry for waking you up.” you were still clinging onto his leg though.

“don’t be. you okay?”, he asked, even though he knew you weren’t. so he gently loosened your grip on his leg before moving so that he could put your head in his lap. you turned your face away from him, now holding on to his lower leg. your heart was still racing and you clung to mingi like your life depended on it. noticing the distraught state you were in, he just stroked your hair, quietly telling you that you were okay and it was okay and he was there. he was ready to spend the rest of the night doing this if it meant you’d feel better, but as soon as the worst panic had subsided you asked him to hug you. and he did, no questions asked, holding you tightly as you buried your face in his chest.

“don’t go”, you begged suddenly. he’d half expected you to be asleep already, having rubbed soothing circles on your back and you not having moved at all. but you very obviously weren’t, and his grip around you tightened at your words.

“i won’t ever”, he promised.

“you make me feel safe.” your words were somewhat muffled since you spoke against his chest rather than up at him, but he understood you anyway. his reply to that was a soft kiss pressed to the top of your head. you both knew he wasn’t good at expressing his feelings with words, but you knew what he meant. he was there to protect you, he would keep you safe for as long as he could.

this time it was your turn to shuffle as you moved upwards a little so you could face your boyfriend. looking him into the eyes - the room was half-lit even at night because while it was you who needed comfort right now mingi could be just as much of a baby, so he never closed the blinds at night, the city lights illuminating the room just enough for both of you to feel comfortable - you sent him an apologetic smile.

“sorry for biting you earlier.” he laughed before pecking your nose.

“it’s okay. better now?”

you nodded. “not good, but better.”

he looked at you quietly before he got an idea. leaning in, he quickly pecked your lips before giving you a goofy grin.

"how about now?" you couldn't help but laugh at this, his sweet attempt at making you feel better causing your heart to swell with love.

"not sure. try again?" at this point it wasn't needed, the fear you'd felt earlier forgotten at his silly display of affection, but you wouldn't pass up a chance to get kissed.

mingi laughed as well before leaning in to peck your lips again.

"and now?" you looked at him, humming while pretending to think very hard.

"i think you need to try harder" was the conclusion you came to, which made a pout manifest itself on your boyfriend's face.

"i'm doing all the work, yet you're never satisfied. you are so ungrateful."

"drama queen." he was almost certain he saw you roll your eyes at him. but you wouldn't do that after he had just put in a lot of hard work to make you smile, so he decided to ignore his suspicion.

"if my boyfriend tried his best to make me feel better i would simply appreciate it", he scolded you jokingly, but he was very obviously smiling.

"you don't even have a boyfriend", you tried to weaken his claim, but he was right, even if he was joking. and you did appreciate it, appreciated him, so you decided that you should let him know. "thank you. really."

"don't be sappy when i'm being silly!" he was embarrassed about the sudden serious display of affection but leaned in to kiss you anyway, a real kiss this time, not just a peck. your heartbeat sped up again, though for an entirely different reason than the last time it had done so. you were so in love with him that it sometimes felt like too much, but every moment you spent with him left you certain that he was worth it, that he was the one for you.

when he pulled away the grin made its way back onto his face and he teasingly asked you: "did i try hard enough this time?"

"song min gi, i can't believe you! you just ruined the moment!" he laughed at your indignation, and this sound was enough to make the faked angry expression turn into one of love and adoration.

"you love me either way", he said confidently.

"i hate you." but you were smiling, your face giving away just how whipped you were.

"doesn't matter, i still love you." he pulled you closer again, shifting until your face was hidden in the crook of his neck. and you wrapped your arm around his waist, gently tapping against his back with your fingers from the slight anxiety you felt whenever you expressed your feelings to mingi.

“i love you too.”

and, with him in your arms and him holding you tightly in his, you managed to fall asleep again.

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poeticpains · 3 years

Text

Weapon of Choice

Prompt Fill for the “Escape the Month” Prompt List by @thatotherothersideblog Day 16: Weapon Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence Ships: The Detective | Matthew Patrick/The Record Producer | Manny MUA (Implied) Summary: Nikita can’t help but to remember the gun. It was her favorite color, after all.

Nikita used to like pink.

It's bright, eye-catching, a fun pop of color to add to something or center her look around. She liked her bright fuchsia acrylics, a shock of magenta hair framing her face, the skintight bubblegum dress she wore that night.

Nikita looks down at her makeup drawer, the tubes of her lipstick arranged in neat rows in their plastic holder in a gradient from the palest nudes to deep, burgundy reds. Pink is in the middle row, several different shades, ranging from a soft baby pink to an electric neon shade that she can't help but smile at.

There's eyeshadow palettes stacked next to them, the one on top a trial she got from a brand to see if she liked it and wanted to work with them, and three of the seven shades are pinks. One of her eyeliners is hot pink. Her setting spray is in a pink bottle, and one of the makeup sponges wrapped in its sheer bag is, of course, pink.

Now, the color just reminds her of that goddamn gun.

Nikita closes her eyes and takes a deep, shuddering breath, reaching out to steady herself by grabbing on to the edge of her vanity. She told herself she wouldn't think about it, but a promise to herself not to think about it doesn't really work when every single instance of the color pink makes her remember the fact that she killed her best friend.

You did what you had to do, Matt had told her, but she saw the devastation in his eyes when she turned around and looked at him and Joey, their faces slack with shock. Of course they looked shocked; Matt and Manny had been pining after each another for the entire night, and she blew that away with a couple well-aimed (she tried her best to aim for the head, looking away as she pulled the trigger and hoping Manny didn't suffer) shots from a bright pink revolver.

She can still feel the weight of it in her hands. Solid metal, recoiling each time she fired (one, two, three, four, five, six, please be enough, I can't pull the trigger again—) and causing her hands to jump with the force of it. The weapon even matched her dress, like it was always meant to be used by her.

Manny's eyes were still open when he hit the floor. There was blood running down his face in rivulets, bright and red, and spreading across the white fabric of his straitjacket in seeping stains. She knows she shot six rounds, but there were four wounds, one on the side of his forehead and three scattered across his torso, the source of the blood.

Nikita told him she loved him. She did. She does. Sometimes there's a part of her that wishes she had turned that gun on herself so she doesn't have to hear his voice begging her not to shoot him in her dreams. If she had died there instead of Manny, then all these emotions would be his problem.

Then again, they're not her problem, either. She doesn't have a problem. She's fine. She's doing great. She's back to her old routine, her old life, and if she wants to puke at the smell of popcorn then that's nobody's problem but hers, and it's not a problem at all, really, because she never liked it that much, anyways.

Get it together, Nikita tells herself sternly, looking up at her reflection in the mirror and gritting her teeth. She can just imagine Manny in the corner, examining his nails and smirking at her, telling her to get her shit together and go kick some ass.

Nikita takes another deep breath, tipping her head back to blink away tears before they can ruin her makeup, and then reaches for the neon pink lipstick.

#escape the night s3 #escape the night season three #etn s3 #the troublemaker #the record producer #my writing #my fics

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yourtokentrophywife · 4 years

Text

MUA!oliver wood & football!marcus flint part 3

i can’t believe i’m continuing this, but i just can’t let this go. the tag for this AU is #big brutes and frappuccinos ❣️might post it on AO3, dunno. i’m writing these as i commute

oliver is wearing this look, for better visualization

“uh.” marcus just stares.

oliver’s brown eyes are wide and looking right at him. he’s got different hues of pink and yellow on his eyes and his brown hair is short and mussed up and marcus wants to touch.

oliver’s lips are parted and they’re so glossy. he’s probably wearing the Fentu? Fenti? lipgloss that he talked about in his latest video (not that Marcus watched it or anything).

“hi marcus.” oliver’s words are calm and he’s raising a brow. he looks like he knows.

marcus is panicking.

“er. uh. hi.” marcus’ eyes darts around the street and he can’t help but think about davies from the team who lives a couple of streets away. does he frequent this starbucks?

marcus should probably leave.

“what’re you up to?” oliver has somehow stepped even closer while marcus was panicking and is now peering curiously at his face. he’s a little shorter than marcus and he smells like fucking strawberries.

“i have to go” marcus blurts out. he really shouldn’t be anywhere near oliver. if davies came around the corner and saw marcus with oliver, he would never hear the end of it.

but his legs aren’t moving. he’s stuck.

marcus looks at oliver in sheer horror. oliver raises a perfectly sculpted brow and smirks.

oliver lifts his hand - and oh god, his nails are disgustingly long and pointy and they’re rainbow coloured- and suddenly the hand is on marcus’ arm.

marcus stares at the hand. oliver is touching him. in the middle of the busiest street in london. in front of people.

“okay” oliver drags the word out and after brief pause, he continues, “how about you walk me home? we could catch up. i was going to film my skin care routine and then i have practice after.” the hand on marcus’ arm is moving up and down assuringly. oliver’s eyes are bright and inviting and he’s smiling softly at marcus.

marcus feels like he’s going to explode.

“practice?” he blurts out.

“yeah, i still play, silly. not in premier league like you, but i am in level 2.” and then he winks at marcus.

marcus face is probably very red now. it definitely feels hot.

oliver plays football. oliver that is openly gay and does makeup stuff and wears pink and has fucking acrylic nails. and he’s in the English Championship.

“come on, we can talk while walking.” oliver’s hand drops and brushes against marcus’ hand. he snatches it away as if he burned himself.

“we don’t have to do anything, marcus.” oliver says softly. and his eyes are soft. everything about him is just soft and nice and warm and inviting-

“uh, i don’t- i mean- i’m not-” marcus doesn’t know what to say.

“right.” oliver says and takes two steps past marcus. marcus turns to look at him and he really shouldn’t have.

his eyes rake over oliver’s body and down and oh-

oliver’s shorts should be illegal.

they are tiny. marcus’ eyes are stuck. the tiny blue shorts are cut off just below oliver’s arse. the fabric is tight and stretched and oliver’s arse is so round. it’s round, plump and marcus want to bite it. fuck, he wants to bite his ass right here on regent street in front of everybody.

“are you coming or not? i don’t have time for this, marcus. i’m a wanted man.” oliver drawls, lips quirked and eyes twinkling.

marcus doesn’t think.

“yeah.”

#mua!oliver wood #flintwood #oliver wood #marcus flint #i'm sorry #i can’t stop #big brutes and frappuccinos

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themarvelousnouveau · 3 years

Text

Pride, Questioning, Gay, Pan, Trans, Queer and HERE.

This is my, I never came out story.

If you don’t know me already, my name is Kalae “Nouveau” Hassel. I was born and raised in New York City and now I’d like to think of myself as a resident of the world… which is a fancy way to say I’m homeless and crashing at my sister’s house in the SW until I figure out what’s next for me in my life.

I sit here, in my new surroundings, hot, just thinking about the desert scrub around me and the dry 100 degree day we just had while I stared at my feed into a wet, sea of New Yorkers flooding the streets in rainbow. Vaxed? Who knows, waxed? Most definitely. Dancing, partying, celebrating while I die a slow FOMO ridden death. Okay, maybe just an orgasm (did you know orgasm means tiny death?). But I began thinking about my Pride story and queer journey to the proud Double Spirited, Pansexual I am today! So I figured I’d share bits of that journey, along with some images I’ve created for Pride as part of a Prompt from the very talented MUA Delvon Paris (@DelvonParis). He asked a group of MUA’s to all represent a Pride Flag and I was assigned the gorgeous Transgender Flag.

I hope you enjoy my story, my art and at the end, a brief history of the Transgender Flag and what It means to me. I hope that none of this is triggering to anyone, but alas, this sort of stuff usually is so bear with me and remember this is a safe space and I send everything with LOVE unless otherwise noted.

I started going to Pride in High School. I remember hopping over the metal gates they put up in NYC parades so we don’t bum rush the floats. I would wear high heels and I already have the long, thick, legs of a plus-size tarantula. So, Id just step over, casually, and join in on the fun walking for a mile or two before my heels became more of a hindrance than the fierce spectacle they started the day as. I remember being mistaken for man in Drag too many times to count. Getting glitter and sweat in my eyes, dancing and celebrating queerness at that age was a FANTASY. I didn’t know about Stonewall, or Gay rights, or Queer struggles. I just new Drag Queens and my gay friends and my non binary friends. I often wonder if my deep love for the culture and my allyship at that young of an age was really me resonating with the queer girl I would grow up to be. I mean, I was always different, but I didn’t come to terms with my Gay side until a decade later.

See, I was raised homophobic. Unfortunately many of us do and it not out of the ordinary. I come from a religious Caribbean background. There’s Soca music about murdering Gay people. I mean it’s etched in the culture. It’s not okay, by any means, but It was all I knew. One day, my best friend asked me and our other best friend (yes, we were a thruple) to come over to her place because she wanted to talk to us. Little did I know, there would end up being two coming out stories in a row, leaving me shaking and crying at a table with my two incredibly articulate, intellectual, hilarious, beautiful, vivacious and now I know, Bi-sexual, besties.

I didn’t cry because they had changed to me, I didn’t think all of a sudden, oh these are “bad people” or “they’re going to hell” No, nothing of the sort. I cried because my mother, my community, my culture LIED TO ME. I shook because the foundation I stood upon was rocked to the core. I loved my besties, probably more that moment and thats the moment I fell in love with this community. Because they were my people. Queer people were my people before I knew I was Queer. So I became a dedicated ally.

It would be years of gay clubs and Prides and soul searching before I finally went out with a woman. I made out with girls my whole life and it never occurred to me that it was “gay.” This is the conditioning, this is the heteronormative, patriarchal system that has me and so many of us blind to the truths of our nature. I have always been attracted to women, but I wouldn’t allow myself the space to be GAY. With all my allyship I still couldn’t peel back the layers and liberate myself. So when I finally did, It wasn’t a moment. It was a series of moments that lead to many colorful relationships and as I grew, the people around me would just notice and some would ask questions but for the most part I think a lot of them were just like, “Well, thats Kalae, KALAEing” and as much as I appreciate that my fluidity is acceptable in a way thats clearly a privilege, I still never really had to/got to come out. I was just here, still. Was I ever in the closet? Am I out the closet now? Maybe I was just straddling the doorway. Maybe I was in the closet but no one new I was in the closet because they could already see my clothes, nah mean?

ANY WHO, I’m here, I’m Queer, and I miss New York Pride, and here’s some info on the Transgender Flag if you didn’t already know it;

The Trans Flag was created by Transgender woman Monica Helm in 1999. She debuted the flag in 2000 at PRIDE in Phoenix, Arizona! The Flag consists of five horizontal stripes and in Monica’s words, "The stripes at the top and bottom are light blue, the traditional color for baby boys. The stripes next to them are pink, the traditional color for baby girls. The stripe in the middle is white, for those who are transitioning or consider themselves having a neutral or undefined gender." For me, as a double spirited human, with her/she pronouns (like the chocolate) all three colors resonate. In my imagery there are three humans in the womb, emerging inside of a pre slated destiny. The ability to accept, change, destroy is in their eyes and at their fingertips. Only time will tell where their journey will lead. I did my best to represent the colors as Monica stated but I don’t believe in gendered roles, traits, etc based on assigned at birth sex. So, take what you will from this flag and my artistic depiction of it. Make sure to visit my Instagram page to see all the amazing depictions of the other Pride Flags! (@TheMarvelousNouveau) All made and sent with LOVE.

Exoh Kalae

#gay #lesbian #pan #pansexual #transgender #trans flag #questioning #monicahelm #pride #newyork #comingout #pridemonth #prideparade #prideflag #gayflag

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adolanables · 4 years

Text

Desire - Part 2

Desire Masterlist

A faint knock on the door of the hotel bedroom woke you from your slumber. It was a quick three tiered knock - what Skylar did to let you all know it was time to leave. Quickly glancing over at Grayson to make sure he was still asleep made you falter for a moment. His hair was sticking straight up on his head, his body curled into a tight ball next to you - his large arm wrapped around a pillow. His eyes were shut tightly, long lashes falling onto his slightly red cheeks. He was something else; part of you wished this wasn’t a job assignment so you could see him again, but that wasn’t how things worked. You were feeling so conflicted - something you honestly hadn’t experienced in this job before. He was truthfully the first decent guy you’d spent time with that was under the age of 60 - maybe he really wasn’t all that great. Maybe you were just so jaded to the thought of a guy your age being nice to you - at least that is what you were going to tell yourself for now.

Skylar knocked softly again, letting you know to hurry your ass up. You moved out of bed softly, and shuffled out of the bedroom, grabbing your heels, lingerie,and jacket that were strewn across the living room. The other girls were waiting at the door for you, all four of you in the provided white robes and heels in hand. Skylar had the money envelope gripped tightly in her hand and nodded, signaling it was time to hit the road.

-___

“Okay ladies, it is looking like we might have this weekend off.” Skylar smiled across the table at you as she opened up her small calendar.

“Really?” Bethany gawked, her eyes wide. “We haven’t had an entire weekend off since we started.”

“I know, I actually went ahead and raised our rate so maybe we can start working less and making more.” Skylar shrugged, taking a sip of her latte. “That twin bachelor party last weekend paid all of our rents for the next two months, and we have three parties lined up for the weekend after next.” She continued explaining. “We should all be getting $3000 per night now; and we still have a pretty healthy list of clientele willing to pay that.”

“I cannot complain about a free weekend and more money.” Jada grinned at the rest of you.

“Yeah, that’s great, Skylar.” You spoke up, a soft smile on your lips.

The rest of the planned breakfast went smoothly enough, each of you detailing what was going on in your personal lives and what you might be doing with your free weekend. You weren’t the biggest fan of these breakfast/business dates. There was no office for this business, so you often met at restaurants or coffee shops to plan the upcoming month out. You always felt like the odd one out; Skylar, Jada, and Bethany were all good friends outside of the business. It felt like the Sex and the City breakfast dates, but you were the odd one out - you didn’t fit in.

As you waved goodbye to the girls and slid into your car, you took a second to think about what in the world you wanted to do with your free weekend. You had another job doing freelance makeup for events, but it wasn’t too serious. Your friend Sydney owned and operated her own MUA business and would sometimes call on you for help if she was short for an event.

Recently, she hadn’t been reaching out all that often because you usually had to say no - you were pretty occupied most weekends. At least that’s what you wanted to believe the reasoning was. Most of your friends eventually found out about your job and cut off contact, but they would never say anything. As you pulled into the driveway of your small condo, you decided you might as well text Sydney to see if you could possibly help out. Sure, you were doing just fine with money, but it wouldn’t hurt to make some more if you could.

Sydney actually ended up needing help with a wedding on the strip. There were ten bridesmaids and there was no way she was going to be able to do all of their hair and makeup on her own. So Saturday morning, you were walking into the prettiest event center on the strip with your makeup kit in one hand, a starbucks in the other.

“Ah, Y/N!” Sydney waved at you excitedly as you entered the room; thankfully you had gotten here before any of the bridal party. “I have a photo of the desired makeup and I’ll venmo you your portion after, that okay?”

“Sounds great.” You smiled at her, getting your station set up. Honestly, you weren’t sure if Sydney knew what you did. The night side of your life was very well hidden, but you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t lost friends since you started. They would slowly disappear, never responding to your texts and avoiding you at all costs if they saw you in public. Sydney was an exception, but she never reached out to see you aside from work. It was hard for her to find someone as reliable as you were at doing makeup.

Five hours and five faces later, you had finally finished the makeup. Sydney had sent you $1000 on venmo and you were heading out of the venue. Your eyes were trained on your phone as you started to determine how long it was going to take you to get home. Just as waze was calculating you smashed directly into what felt like a brick wall. “Ow!” You shrieked as everything in your hands scattered across the floor and your nose smushed flat against your face.

“Shit - are you okay?” The voice of the brick wall sounded behind you as you tried to gather all your belongings and make sure your nose wasn’t broken. The voice made you whip your head around with wide eyes - “Y/N?!”

“So… are you going to explain why you are at my brother’s wedding?” Grayson muttered as he helped you pick your things up, his face a bright shade of red.

“Um - I do makeup.” You squeaked, feeling extremely out of place. Usually your clients left town right after you met them, so running into someone in broad daylight was pretty weird. Running into the only client you’d ever had actual feelings for was even weirder. “For events - makeup… for weddings.”

“You did… all of their makeup…” Grayson was piecing together the information as you both stood back up; his face was full of confusion.

“Yes, I do other things besides sleep with rich assholes.” You spat, understanding what the look on his face meant. He couldn’t fathom the fact that you actually did other things - either that, or he was pretty disgusted his soon-to-be sister in law just had her makeup done by you.

“Oh - um - woah - that isn’t what I meant, um-” He was scratching his head awkwardly, his face still bright red. It was clear that was exactly what he was thinking, but he was too polite to actually say that. He was in sweatpants with a suit bag draped over his arm, clearly heading to get ready for the wedding. What were the odds you’d be doing makeup for THIS wedding.

“It’s fine; have a nice time at the wedding.” You grinned politely at him, adjusting your bag over your shoulder and heading towards the door.

“Hey, wait-” Grayson’s free hand gripped your forearm, pulling you back towards him. You raised your eyebrow in confusion, your upper-body turned towards him slightly. “Can I get your number? Like to meet up later?”

“Um, I’m actually off this weekend and we don’t really do individual clients, so I do-”

“I wasn’t asking to meet up in that kind of way.” He laughed awkwardly, letting his hand fall from your arm. “I don’t have any plans after the reception… and I was wondering if you’d want to get drinks or something?” The way his cheeks turned red told you he was nervous - something he had shown while you had him balls deep in your throat, but you really didn’t expect him to be like that in person. He seemed like a pretty confident guy, just not used to having strangers deep throat him.

“Oh, um-” You were completely caught off guard. Your face was surely as bright red as Grayson’s at this point. You - on the other hand - were completely confident deep-throating strangers, but having real conversations with them was a different story. After a year of sleeping with rich men, not one of them had ever asked to see you in a non-sexual way. You weren’t really sure how to respond - Skylar had pretty strict rules about fraternizing with clients, but you genuinely enjoyed spending time with Grayson and he wasn’t old and ugly like your usual clients. Plus, how would Skylar ever know? ”Yeah, sure.”

“Really?” He looked shocked for a moment before blinking a few times and grabbing his phone from his pocket.

“Yeah, why not.” You smiled softly at him and input your number into his phone, wondering if he would truly text you or not.

“Alright, well I’ll hit you up later then.” He smiled and tucked his phone back into his pocket. “I’ve gotta get to the wedding prep, but have a good day, Y/N.”

“Bye.” You waved at him as he jogged off towards the back of the event center.

Your mind was running a million miles a minute as you laid upside down on your bed. It was nearing 8pm, probably in the middle of the wedding reception, and you hadn’t heard anything from Grayson; you were hoping it wasn’t going to be midnight when he hit you up.

Honestly, you weren’t sure if you were going to be able to commit to actually seeing him. Being around a guy that knows what you do made you extremely nervous. Being around anyone who knows what you do aside from Skylar and the girls made you nervous. This industry made it hard to have friends; when you started to get close to someone, they would inevitably find out what you did and not stick around. Finding a boyfriend was even harder. Skylar wasn’t very accepting of any of you all going on dates or talking to guys because it put her business at risk. With that being said, there was no contract and if you could make it work, you wouldn’t be opposed to it.

The loud ping of your phone interrupted your thoughts - a text from an unknown number:

*Hey Y/N; drinks at Oak & Ivy at 10? - Grayson*

Your heart skipped a beat seeing he was actually willing to meet with you in public - at a nice place. The 17 year old girl in you wanted to wait a few minutes to respond, but the 26 year old you didn’t give a shit.

*Sounds great, I’ll be there :)*

The click of your heels on the pavement sent shudders down your spine as the feeling of dejavu overwhelmed you. Usually this sound meant the start of a night of work, not a date. As you took the elevator up to the bar, you felt your palms start to sweat. If you were being honest, you couldn’t even remember the last time you’d been on a date. Was this even a date? Were you hyping all of this up in your head?

As the door opened and the warm lighting of the room came into view, you scanned the room for Grayson. At first you didn’t see him and felt your heart fall to your ass; but his large frame and goofy grin soon came into view. He was in the far back corner of the room, still in his dress shirt from the wedding. You figured he would be dressed up and were happy you decided to wear a nicer outfit.

“You look great.” Grayson smiled as he greeted you, his hand resting on the small of your back as he gave you a quick hug. “Glad you didn’t stand me up.”

“Aw, come on.” You laughed at him softly, taking your seat across from him and immediately picking up the drink menu. “What’d you get?”

“Old fashioned.” He took a sip of his classy drink, his thick eyebrow raised, waiting for you to make a choice. The waiter came around the corner at the perfect time.

“Just a glass of merlot,” you smiled at the young man, daring him to ask for your ID. He never did and just scurried away to get your drink.

“Wine for the lady.” Grayson smirked and set his glass on the table. “You looked different this morning… and tonight?”

“Yeah I don’t usually wear my full getup on a normal day.” You spoke softly, really not wanting to talk about your work the entire time you were here.

He seemed to get the hint as he cleared his throat and took another sip. “So, how’d you get started doing makeup?”

“Well, my friend Sydney actually owns the company and sometimes just asks me to help out. I think it’s pretty fun.” The waiter hurriedly set your glass down and headed off. You took a small sip and set the cup back down. “How was the wedding?”

“Pretty great.” He smiled softly. “Kinda weird, ya know - me and Ethan have lived together since birth and now he’s someone else’s responsibility.”

“I’m sure that’s gonna be an adjustment.” You giggled, wanting to reach over and fix his disgruntled tie. “Can I ask how old you are? We, uh, never got to properly meet..”

“Twenty-two, you?”

Grayson wasn’t even halfway finished with his sentence before you were choking on your wine. TWENTY TWO?! You were sure he and his brother were at least a few years older than you. Their full beards and strong bodies didn’t read young, but you were clearly mistaken. “Oh, Jesus.” You started chuckling and ran a hand through your hair. “I’m so much older than you, I’m so sorry, I really thought you were older than me.”

“Hey, don’t apologize.” Grayson shook his head assuringly. “I kind of thought you were a bit older than me, it really isn’t a problem. E just married a 24 year old.”

“Well, I’m 26.” You muttered awkwardly, chugging the rest of your wine and waving at the waiter to bring you another.

“I don’t think that’s a huge difference.” Grayson shrugged. “I’ve always felt more mature than other guys my age anyways.”

“Oh, Grayson.” You sighed, nearly ripping the new glass of wine out of the poor waiter’s hand. “I’m sure you are, but you’re still learning things ya know?” You felt your throat getting dry as the conversation continued. “It’s just - you’re too young to be settling for someone… someone like me.”

“What are you talking about?” He furrowed his brow in confusion as you continued to down the alcohol. “We’re getting drinks, Y/N. It’s not like I’m proposing.”

You shut your eyes for a moment, willing yourself to calm down. You knew you shouldn’t have assumed this was a date and here you were completely embarrassing yourself. Truth be told, you didn’t know what to do. 26 years old and still completely incapable of having a normal dating life meant everything you did was going to be awkward. Which is why working in the industry you did was so comfortable for you. You knew what you were doing and you were never awkward. Real life was a different story.

“I’m sorry, I just-“ a shaky breath escaped your lips as you opened your eyes to see Grayson’s striking hazel eyes staring into you. “I think I’m gonna go, um, thank you for inviting me.” You nervously flipped through your purse for cash, Grayson’s large hand stopping you.

“I’m paying.” He mumbled, his slender fingers easily pulling a 100 dollar bill from his wallet and sliding it onto the table. “You don’t have to leave.”

“I do.” You shook your head and stood up. Two glasses of wine wasn’t enough to have you stumbling, but it was enough to spike your emotions. Grayson tried to grab your arm, but you ripped it away from him as you quickly shuffled to the elevator. Praying to God the freaking metal doors would open before tears started falling down your cheeks.

“Y/N, come on, wait.” Grayson’s voice broke through your thoughts, his warm hand found the small of your back again. “Wha-, why are you crying?”

“Please let me leave.” You whimpered, pressing the elevator button a million times a minute. Suddenly the designed carpet became very interesting as you silently cursed your eyes for betraying you.

“I really don’t want you to leave upset.” He spoke kindly, his voice quiet and calm. “At least let me drive you home?”

“Okay,” you agreed. Breathing a sigh of relief as the elevator finally opened. Although a long ride to your condo with Grayson wasn’t really what you wanted, you hated taking Uber’s alone and the one here had already made you uncomfortable enough.

“Okay.” He nodded, standing a few feet away from you as you rode the elevator down. You could tell he wanted to know what he had said wrong, but he didn’t press.

As Grayson approached a matte black Audi convertible you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. Of course he would have this car. You wanted to ask how in the world he had so much money at such a young age, but you didn’t think it was appropriate.

Before you could open the door, Grayson was sliding in front of you opening it for you. “Thanks.” You muttered, sliding in easily.

“It’s right up here on the end.” You gave Grayson directions as he slowly creeped down the busy street.

“Nice place.” He nodded his head approvingly as you started to gather yourself to get out.

“Bought it myself.” You sighed, feeling like he was wondering how the hell you lived somewhere like this.

“I assumed so.” He chuckled, turning his nice car into your driveway, behind your new - but not nearly as nice as an Audi- Nissan Altima. “Would it be too much for me to ask to come in?”

“Grays-“

“To talk, please?” His eyes sparkled in the porch light and as badly as you wanted to say no, you just couldn’t.

“Okay.”

“I think this the coziest house in all of Las Vegas.” Grayson muttered as he pulled the large knit blanket over his lap and settled into your warm leather couch.

“Well thank you,” You smiled softly, grabbing your own favorite mink blanket to cover up your bare feet on the opposite end of the couch. “This is sort of my safe haven, so I tried to make it the best place anyone could be.”

“You’ve done a great job.” He assured you and let out a deep breath. “Y/N I really was not trying to make you uncomfortable earlier, I didn’t – what I wanted to say didn’t come out correctly, okay?”

“It’s really okay.” You shook your head at him, letting him know it really was no big deal.

“No, it isn’t. I made you cry, that isn’t okay.” His smile faltered slightly as he took another deep breath. “I asked you to get drinks, it was completely fair for you to assume it was a date.” As you opened your mouth to speak up, he held his hand up to stop you. “I didn’t want to assume that, because I wasn’t sure if you were interested in going on an actual date with me.”

“I said yes didn’t I?” You rolled your eyes at him trying to explain himself. It really was so hard to believe this man was only 22, he carried himself like a full out grown man.

“You did.” He held his hands up in surrender. “I really just wasn’t sure if you’d be willing to go on a date with… a client… I’m sorry for assuming that.”

“You aren’t wrong.” The soft blanket felt heavy on your body as you started to explain your feelings. “I usually wouldn’t – but honestly – I ‘ve never been asked on a date by a client. Well – I haven’t actually been asked on a date by anyone in a … long time.”

“Really?” He furrowed his eyebrows as though he was having a hard time believing that. You were a beautiful woman with kind eyes and an amazing body, he couldn’t imagine a world where you didn’t have men falling at your feet.

“It’s not the easiest thing to do when you do what I do.” You sighed, glancing up at him softly. “But you already know what I do, and you still asked me… so who am I to say no?”

“Understandable.” He cleared his throat uncomfortably again and pulled his knee up to his chest. “I know you don’t want to talk about work, so just tell me to stop and I will. I really just have to ask how you got into… all this?”

“Well…” You chewed on your lip for a moment, trying to decide if you really wanted to open up to this man you barely knew. He was already in your house, on your very sacred couch – how much more could hurt? “Basically a long sequence of unfortunate events.” You chuckled, catching his eye for a moment to let him know the question was okay. “I dropped out of college at 21 – a semester before I was set to finish. All because of this stupid guy I was dating who had convinced me he was going to marry me and I could be a housewife.” You shook your head at your naïve stupidity. “At 22 we broke up and I just had no idea what to do. We lived together, he owned everything – I was completely screwed. So, I got a job bartending and dancing and tried to make ends meet doing that – I lived with a few friends in this terrible apartment for a few years.” At this point, Grayson was full on staring at you, his eyes purposely trained on your lips

as you spoke. “Worst years of my life – it was just awful. Bad mistakes, bad boyfriends, bad hookups, everything. So, last year when I met Skylar and she told me about the opportunity, I just couldn’t say no.” You let out a deep sigh and stared down at your lap. “I’ve lost most of my friends, my family won’t speak to me, I can’t date, but I have a roof over my head and I’m not fighting for my next meal. So, I can’t say I regret making the choice.”

“Well that all makes sense.” He nodded understandingly, his eyes sympathetic as he reached out to pat softly on your knee. “You shouldn’t feel like you can’t tell people that.”

“I don’t, I just don’t have anyone to tell.” You gave him a half-hearted smile as his face fell slightly. “Thank you for listening.”

“Of course.” He whispered softly as you bumped your knee into his. His hand that was resting on your leg softly moved to capture your cold hand, his thumb rubbing soothing circles onto the back. “Would you stop if you were able to?”

“I mean yes, but I’m nowhere near being financially stable enough to do that.” You scoffed at him, a little offended that he would bring that up.

“Okay, but what if I am?” His stupid brows were furrowed again, a small crease between his eyebrows prominent as he continued to speak. “I know you don’t want to rely on someone else, but what i-“

“Stop.” You ripped your hand from his, throwing the blanket from your lap as you immediately felt hot from anger. “I’m not going to be your little charity case, or your toy on the side – I don’t know what your intentions are – but you can count me out of them.”

“Y/N, I didn’t me-“

“Please leave, Grayson.” You spoke sharply, standing up and pointing at the door.

He looked like he wanted to say something, but he didn’t know what. His proposition was

understandably upsetting to her, but he really hated seeing such a beautiful and radiant woman

deteriorating because of what she had to do for work. It was clear she didn’t enjoy it. He could tell that the second he walked into the living room that night. The other three girls wore smirking, confident looks on their face, while Y/N remained stone-faced until prompted to do otherwise. The way she spoke of her work, as though it was her last resort made Grayson’s heart hurt. He had always been a romantic, someone extremely empathetic to others’ problems; so feeling as though he could help Y/N was a no-brainer.

As he somberly left her condo, he couldn’t help but turn around and let her know one more time: “The offer remains on the table if ever you feel like you need it.”

Grayson’s headlights lit up your living room as you sat on the couch with your head in your hands and tears streaming down your face. Another person who melted you down to only be your job. You got it, you really did. Before you started in this industry, you looked down on people who did sex work. It was hard not to with the way society portrayed it, but that wasn’t fair. Sex was work and it was good work; sure, it was a little dangerous, but you knew that when you signed up.

What you hadn’t expected was how alienated you would become from having a normal life. It made your soul ache and your heart hurt knowing you’d lost all chances of getting married or having babies. Even if you had a chance, you were running out of time, and every time you met someone nice, telling them what you did was the deal breaker. You thought maybe Grayson would be an exception, but clearly he was so disgusted by your work that he was willing to pay for you to stop.

#desire!grayson #adolanables #desire #ethan grayson #grayson dolan #ethan dolan #the dolan twins #dolan twins #grayson dolan x reader #grayson dolan fanfic #dolan twin fandom #dolan twin fanfic #grayson dolan smut #grayson dolan imagine

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singeramg · 4 years

Text

Finding Forever: Chapter 1

Pairing: Henry Cavill/Black Original Character

Rating: Explict/ M/ Whatever...will be smut later on.

Warnings: Cursing, eventual smut, some angst, more tags to come as we get into this.

Summary: Aura Camilla an actress who has just landed her first lead role opposite Henry Cavill. This story follows her as she tries to navigate her fast developing feelings for her costar.

A/N: Welcome everyone, so this is my first time attempting to write anything involving Henry Cavill, so y'all bare with me and be nice (Please) Also blame The Witcher for this sudden interest. . I hope you guys will like it and I promise it will get better as we go along. I don’t have any idea of how long this will be. I welcome comments and suggestions.

Chapter 1: All this Love

“I have everything I need ummm....I think.”

I said to my best friend Mia who was laying across my bed, her hair a black/ white/grey ombré dreads that reached the middle of her back of her chestnut frame. She was mindless playing with one of the furry ivory pillows I had on my bed.

“Well Aura considering you’ve packed and repacked that bag several times I highly doubt you forgot anything. Shit I’m quite sure you’ve packed the entirety of your room.”

She said with a smirk, then went back to scrolling on her phone. I laughed, flipping her off, and zipping my bag closed.

“Are you ready to drive me to the airport?”

“The real question is are you ready to go?”

She said getting up from my bed and sliding into her shoes.

“Come bring your ass on...”

I said with a laugh, hauling my suitcase off of bed and out of my room in our shared apartment...

⭐️***

To say I was nervous was an understatement. I had just checked into my room on location for the movie I had just landed. I had done some parts in television and movies, supporting characters. This would be the first time I played a lead, it was a romantic comedy. All set around a neurotic late 20 something named Anya Novak that spent her life doing everything for everyone else but never going after what she wants. Her job merges with another and in enters the new guy Carson Wyatt who rubs her the wrong way when they first meet and even more so when she figures out he is her new neighbor.

I could handle the role, I was certain of that but I was nervous because I hadn’t met anyone from the cast yet. The filming schedule was coming off the heels of filming a big movie for not only the directors but for my co-star Henry Cavill. I had been surprised when they said he would be joining the cast as this type of movie didn’t seem like his type that he would be in. It had very little action and a lot of comedic timing. I was nervous that he and I would not get along at all and make this filming unbearable. We were due to start filming in a day or so but tonight we were set to all meet and have dinner.

I unpacked my clothes and now found myself standing in front of my closet much like I would at home, except now I didn’t have Mia to help me choose. I would settle for FaceTime.

“ It’s Mia the Mua of your dreams.”

“Yeah my nightmares too. Best friend I need help and I need it fast. Cast dinner in two hours with no clue and what to put on out of all the shit you packed me to wear.”

“Where is the dinner?”

“ Small gastropub, nothing too fancy but I want to make a good impression.”

“Yeah maybe on that foine ass co-star of yours.”

“Mi let’s not go there.”

“You need to let him go there with your uptight ass. Been moving around here for months, working too hard with no play. Especially since Jamal.”

“Ugh, god you said the name. I thought we agreed that name was dead.”

“ I agreed not to beat his ass for that shit he pulled, but that’s all. Now onto what you called for. Dark wash jeans, white and black sheer top, black heels. Light on the makeup, soft curls on the hair.”

“Remind me again why you couldn’t come with me.”

“I might style you in my free time but unlike you my jetsetting darling I still have to deal with my lazy ass ultra extra Ulta manager. At least until you need me full time.”

“But I do this is the problem. I told you to get on the plane with me but no. You didn’t.”

“I’m working on it, you know my manager asked me to hold off on my leave until she came back from vacation. Look don’t worry about me I’ll be there is two weeks you can survive two weeks before I arrive, just get dressed, go make some friends, and relax because I know you are freaking out and doing yourself a disservice. Remember our saying...”

“Beautiful is who you are not what you are.”

Mia and I repeated at the same time as we had since middle school. In a school where the people didn’t look like us with Mia’s cinnamon tone and my sienna color paired with braids and thick dark hair, didn’t make us popular in a world of blonde hair and blue eyes. We made due as we got older, at 25 we kept that motto as a reminder to love ourselves no matter what.

“Aura go out there and make those people love as much as I do.”

I sniffed back a few tears and felt grateful for the type of friend I had.

“Thank you Mia.”

“Always. Now I gotta go. I was supposed to be at work ten minutes ago.”

We laughed and hung up...

⭐️Later

I dressed in what Mia said to put on, stepping from the cab, grateful for us filming in the springtime in Canada, despite the nighttime, the air was moderate. The restaurant was lit in a dim light but bright enough to see the faces. I stepped in and the hostess upon hearing the name of the party I was with smile brightened up and walked me to a secluded room to the back of the restaurant. As soon as I entered the directors Marshall and Anne a married couple for whom this was a passion project. We instantly clicked during my audition and subsequent talking they were really nice to me.

“Aura! I’m glad you made it!”

Anne said standing and pulling me into hug, Marshall following shortly after.

“Yes please come in, have a seat. There’s an open seat left next to Henry.”

I smiled and looked to the room where all the men stood on my arrival as custom dictated, and my eyes landed on the 6’1 dark haired gentleman I had been anxious to meet. Marshall walked me to the other side of the table where Henry was standing.

“Henry meet your co-star Aura Camilla. Aura please meet Henry Cavill.”

He had a look on his face that I honestly couldn’t place, but once Marshall made introductions a wide grin broke across his face, and he offered a hand out to me. I took it and we shook, with him seeming to stare at my face my hazel eyes locking with his blue.

“Pleasure to meet you Henry. Big fan of your work.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you as well Aura. I’m excited to be working with you as well.”

It was then that I guess he realized he was still holding my hand and he let go quickly only to pull out my chair, nervously, actually tripping over the edge of the chair slightly but not falling. The cool persona he had to world, out the window for a split moment, but that was okay because I liked it...

*The next day*

I was sitting in the make-up artist chair, as they worked to make me look as scripted for our first scene. I was going over my lines when I heard the door to the trailer opened and closed, the next to me groaning under the new weight in it. I smiled when I realized who was now occupying the chair.

“Good morning Aura. Sleep well I hope?”

Henry looked fresh, wearing sweatpants and a black zipped-up hoodie. No product in his hair, and freshly shaved as opposed to the light stubble he sported yesterday night. Honestly we got along really well, which was a relief in terms of working. We actually vibed during our talking last night. He was a breath of fresh air in this industry to have a conversation with a man who wasn’t talking to my boobs. We just laughed and joked most of the night, leaving off with him agreeing to help me out in the gym, I also think I left feeling like my soft admiration for a man I didn’t know to a man I kinda knew to a real world potential crush that could crush me and I wasn’t sure I was ready for it.

So now here I was sitting next to a man that I was attracted to. I could smell the trouble brewing.

“Yes, I did. It’s always a little difficult getting used to sleeping in a bed that’s not my own.”

“I have the same problem. Takes me a few days to adjust to the time change and a different bed. I am usually up all night until then despite being tired from a long day. I find that working out helps me get back on track, if not watch some television.”

“Yeah I’m more the type to watch TV or a movie and I’m out like a light. Thank god we don’t have a super early call time for the first couple of weeks.”

“You ready to go out there and hate my guts on screen?”

“Sure, as long as you are ready to hate mine.”

“I am going to have to put my acting skills to the test. This would be easier if you were a horrible person.”

“Excuse me for not being a drag on your life Cavill. I think this would be easier for me too if you hadn’t endeared me to your dog and told me about your terrible bullying experience. I can’t actually hate you now.”

We laughed along with those in the trailer and as I was ushered into wardrobe I had to cut off those butterflies in my stomach and focus on doing my job....

A/n: So tell me what you think? If you want to read more let me know. Thank you for taking the time to read this little piece of crap I managed lol

#henry cavill #henry cavill x ofc #henry cavill x black ofc #henry cavill fanfic #fanfiction

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