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aaronhotchswife · 6 months

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THE WAY YOU MAKE ME FEEL

Drew Starkey x Female Reader

Chapter 1

Warnings : alcohol, panick attack, angst, want to give the reader a hug, smut, loss of virginity

Chapter 2

"If two people are meant to be together, they will eventually find their way back into each other's arms, no matter what."

Drew's point of view

I look at her, sleeping on my shoulder. She looks so peaceful, her breathing is serene. I look at her lips, that even if I kissed them a lot for the sake of the show, I wonder how they would taste if it was for real. I had agreed to watch Tangled with her since I know it's her favourite movie. For the year she lived with me, she asked me to watch it with her. She was always watching it alone but I finally succumbed to watching it tonight.

She moves slightly, causing me to hold my breath.

'"Hi," she says, repositioning herself on the couch. "Sorry about that," she glances to my shoulder.

"Hey, don't worry," I speak softly, my gaze went back to the movie, a lantern scene playing.

"I woke up just in time for my favourite scene"

"This is your favourite scene ?" I chuckle, incredulous.

"Yeah ! It's so romantic. The ways he looks at her and the song, it's cute."

"It is," I say, looking over her.

We finished the night both laying on the couch, showing each other tiktoks and funny Instagram reels. It was nice to just hang out, like roommates and friends, even if in my head, I always had that little thing, where she might likes me back.

Y/N's point of view

I come back from the grocery store, rubbing my hands together from the cold outside before setting the grocery bags on the counter.

"Drew ?" I spoke loudly, waiting for him to answer me. "Are you home?"

Without getting any answers, I emptied the grocery bags before laying on the couch, a cooking TV show playing in the background.

***

To : Cut the camera

Mads : the guys chose the bar for tonight. They say it's a pub kind of place

Y/N : girlsss idk what to wear

Lacia : you should wear your blue jeans with your black silk top 🥵

Mads : I AGREE

Mads : btw Odessa's gonna be there tonight

Y/N : that must be why Drew isn't home

Y/N : i already didn't feel like going now it's worse 🙃

Madie : c'mon girl, you're gonna have a great time with us!! And it's the last time that we're gonna see each others before everyone leave for Christmas soooo

Since Drew and Odessa were filming a movie together, they were always hanging out. I tried my best not to be jealous of her but it was hard. I felt like she was prettier, skinnier, funnier than me. And Drew seems to find her really interesting. Which was ok. I was just his roommate and his best friend. Just his roommate and his best friend.

***

The pub was crowded just enough. I was sitting next to JD and Lacia, talking about crazy fan theories.

"Oh there he is!" JD exclaim, reaching out his hand to do a handshake with Drew. I felt my hands getting clammy, feeling a bit anxious seeing him with her.

"Hi man, hi Lacia, hi Y/N." Drew said, his eyes scanning the booth.

"Hi guys!" said Odessa.

JD and Lacia said hi at the same time, but I find the straw in my drink a lot more interesting than her. I looked over Drew, making eye contact with him before letting my gaze fall back down to my drink.

Drew's point of view

I saw her, wearing her cute jeans and that black top that embraced her curves.

She looked over me, her eyes filled with something else than usually. Her expression changed the second she saw me. I sat at the booth, next to JD. Even if I wanted to sit next to her, she seemed more absorbed by the straw in her drink that by my presence. Odessa sat next to me, putting her hand on my back, making me stiffen. I saw Y/N's gaze looking over me, before she got up, walking over Madelyn and Chase. I get up, walk over them to say hi to my friends. She is standing next to me, but she is still looking everywhere except where I want her to look. I leaned over her, my hand finding a place on her back.

"You ok ?" I asked.

"Positive."

Her tone is dry and I can't think of any reasons of why she would be like that.

"So you brought Odessa ?" Chase asked, making me come back to reality.

"Yeah, well we're spending a lot of time together these days because of Hellraiser and she's nice and —"

"In that case you should go see her before she starts missing you too much."

I turned back to Y/N, my brows furrowed. The tone is which she said it is harsh, something that would normally not happen with her. She doesn't look at me and instead, before I can answer anything, her eyes find Rudy, Austin and Madison talking next to the bar and just like that, she's gone.

Y/N's point of view

I'm sitting at the booth, listening to Rudy asking Austin a Truth or Dare question. I am here, but I feel as if my head is somewhere else. Somewhere alone with Drew. Somewhere where he is in love with me.

"Drewbear, if you saw me on Tinder, would you swipe right ?"

I can hear Odessa giggling while she's asking her question to Drew. Even if I do not want to hear his answer, I suprise myself raising my head and listening carefully. I can't invent the way his eyes look at me before making their way to Odessa.

"I would."

I feel my heart stop. I know I didn't have the right to be jealous of her. We are just friends, even if sometimes it feels like we are more than that. I try to smile, making it seems like it don't affect me, but the way I see Madelyn look at me, her eyes filled with pity, I feel the tears raising in my eyes. I get up to go order a drink, asking everyone if they wanted a refill. I could hear my voice shaking, trying my best to control myself.

"I'll come with you," Drew says, raising from his seat.

"You don't have to."

"C'mon Y/N/N, you can't bring 5 drinks by yourself," he smiled, following me to the bar.

I ordered the drinks, watching the floor and playing with the rings on my fingers waiting for the drinks to be ready.

Drew's point of view

"Did I do something wrong ?" I spoke softly. I could feel something was wrong and it made me sick in my stomach, thinking that I could've hurt her. "You're acting weird ever since I've arrived."

She stops playing with her rings, lifting her head to watch me.

"You didn't."

"Then why are you acting like that ? Being mean about Odessa, ignoring me ? You're in your little world since the beginning of the night, looking everywhere but at me. C'mon, you know we're best friends and that we say everything to each other."

"Do we ? Do we tell each other everything Drew ?" Her voice was trembling.

The moment was cut by the bartender, handing us the drinks.

"I want to talk about it Y/N." I talk louder, making our way to the booth.

"There is nothing to talk about."

Y/N's point of view

As I sat at the booth, my phone vibrated. I look down to see a text from Madelyn.

'You really should tell him how you feel'

Another vibration.

'He's in love with you. You should see the way he looks at you. He's just trying to make you jealous'

'Yeah right' I write back.

'It's working'

"Y/N, truth or dare ?" Odessa asks.

There's is no way I trust this girl enough for a dare, so I answer truth.

"How many persons did you have sex with ?"

I feel the heat creeping up on my cheeks. Even if being a virgin in my 20's sucked, it was always something I could hide. Except for now because the way she looks at me, I'm pretty sure she realizes what I am.

"Oh oh, are you a virgin ?" She laughed sarcastically.

Everybody at the table is silent. Because even if mostly everyone knew, the tone is which she said it makes everyone feel tense. I feel my breath getting shorter and I start getting dizzy. I can't breathe. I can't feel my heart. I can't even focus on the faces of my friends in front of me. I feel like I'm in high school again, with the mean girls. I feel like I will die. I look at Drew, a pleading look on my face. I want him to do something even if I don't know what. I need air, I need the cold air of December to help me breathe.

Drew's point of view

Everybody is silent, everybody is looking at me. Madelyn gets up, running to the door, yelling Y/N's name. I turn to face Odessa and I know she can see the anger in my eyes.

"What. The. Fuck is your problem ?" I speak loudly, not a care in the world if I'm causing a scene. "You should leave. Now." I tell her before exiting the bar, looking for Y/N.

I find her outside, on her knees. Madelyn is next to her, on her knees as well, rubbing her back. I can hear her crying, her respiration is twitching as she tries to speak.

"I–I–don't want to feel like this anymore. I don't want to feel like I'm not good for anyone," I hear her say between tears. "I–feel like I will die. Why did she do that. Why can't he love me," I see her hyperventilating and I want to say something. To do something. But my feet are stuck on the ground.

"Shh, it's okay. You're okay. You're alive. You're with me. It's okay," I can hear Madelyn comforting her.

"You should go. I think you're the last person she wants to see at the moment," Madison speaks loudly behind me, Lacia following her . Madelyn raises her head, as does Y/N.

"Make him leave Madie, please, make him leave."

I heard her, I look over the girls, tears forming in my eyes. I don't understand anything that is happening right now. I don't understand how my best friend is on the floor have a breakdown because of me.

Y/N's point of view

I run outside, falling to my knees on the ground. I can't breathe. The blood is pounding in my ears. My heart is thudding in my chest.

"Y/N!" I hear Madelyn say, but I don't have the strength to turn back. I need to be alone, I need to breathe.

"Y/N," Madelyn is reaching to me, holding me close to her. My breathing is shaking and I try to control it, to control the tears falling down on my cheeks. I feel humiliated, I feel as if I'm going to die. I don't hear Drew running out the door and I don't see him standing there, his face broken.

"It's okay. It's okay. Breathe with me." Madelyn says, inhaling and exhaling. I try to do the same but my breath gets stuck.

"I–I–don't want to feel like this anymore. I don't want to feel like I'm not good for anyone," I say between tears. "I–I feel like I will die. Why did she do that. Why can't he love me," I rambled, unable to say anything that make sense.

"Shh, it's okay. You're okay. You're alive. You're with me. It's okay."

I don't hear Drew running out the door and I don't see him standing there, his face broken. I only realized he's there when I hear Madison and Lacia telling him to go home.

"Make him leave Madie, please, make him leave," I begged.

#drew starkey x reader #drew starkey angst #drew starkey fluff #drew starkey smut #drew starkey #drew starkey x y/n #drew starkey x you #drew starkey x female reader #rafe cameron #rafe x reader #outer banks

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class1akids · 17 days

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BNHA 423 - Thoughts (aka how to fumble your ending: a masterclass by Kohei Horikoshi)

I won't have time on Sunday, so I'll write up my chapter thoughts today. Probably the last time for this series (unless we get a Todo-family moment in the epilogue).

I've joined this fandom 6 years ago and written countless meta and analysis. I'm grieving today not that the story has come to an end, but the way it fumbled its landing.

Last chapter: Deku after a combo from everyone Rises to everyone shouting Ganbare and All Might Annointing him as HIS personal Jesus Greatest hero

This chapter:

Everyone's aggregate animosity (including 16 members of Class A - missing: Uraraka, Bakugou, Shoto and Aoyama) and the strength Deku added to OFA in 2 years kill AFO-in-Shigaraki's regen (even though he was engineered by Ujiko to be able to hold OFA).

Deku punches the body of that little crying boy he yapped about saving of the big bad and it starts to crumble. So AFO looks for a new host in Deku.

We get to the only good point in this chapter: as Aizawa is yelling for Midoriya, ShiraGiri worries about Tomura. The tragedy of how their lives went in separate ways. The only person on this battlefield who cares about Tomura is Kurogiri

WTF - I'm emotional. This must help bring Tomura back, right?

Let me see! what's happening on the vestige side?

Is Kurogiri dead? Why?

I NEED ANSWERS!!!

Or fuck that - let's get to Bakugou, because why not. Obviously, he's in desperate need of another highlight.

Let's even make sure he gets personally praised in case in the last 5 chapters he was not mentioned we forgot how he's the awesomest. Who cares about Kurogiri dying in the background? Who cares about Aizawa's or Mic's feelings? The most important question is how Bakugou got to the battlefield.

Oh, wait, here comes the twist. Remember that crappy little panel of Shoto in the last chapter? No? Don't worry. Neither does 99% of the fandom, except a few die-hard Shoto-fans.

Well, you see, that crappy panel was actually Shoto being hidden as he lifted up Deku at the end of that long combo to give him his last push. And the one above, is not a BKDK combo but an Origin Trio combo. It's just cropped the same way BKDK shippers always crop Shoto out of any Trio pictures.

Congratulations, Kohei Horikoshi-sensei! What an amazing twist. You managed to write Schroedinger's Origin Trio scene! It happened, but maybe it never did. Thanks for stringing me along all these years through the rollercoaster rides of Origins and Risings. I'll take that playground from you and give it to fanfic writers who actually care about maintaining it.

While Bakugou is yelling in the background, Deku is pulling a Mirio on AFO and calls him friendless. The worst thing that can happen to a Shonen boss.

There is some incomprehensible mumbo jumbo about OFA-magic - but don't worry peeps - it's all a set-up for Deku getting it back (in case you are one of the people who seems really to be worried about that)

And then AFO realizes - due to Deku transferring the last bit just so - that he was just a sad little human who loved his brother all along. Yoichi's lifelong efforts to make an impact on AFO didn't do anything. Only the Jesus-Punch-of-Magic did. Too bad.

Oh no, the whole fucking peanut gallery is back to nobody's surprise. (Actually All Might is missing, which may suggest Deku will only get the stockpile back). Even if Deku gets OFA back, please don't transfer these guys back. I'm so sick of them. They were a total waste of time and took Deku's precious real estate for introspection. Fuck that. I don't actually care. Deku has been damaged beyond repair.

GROUP FIST BUMP!!! Amazing Climax. Maybe a double spread, Sensei?

HK: Sorry, I used up my double spread quota on Bakugou!

I'm not one to criticize Horikoshi's artstyle, but boy, this panel is so underwhelming compared to the stuff he drew in this endgame. Is this your big AFO vs OFA clash????

What happens when Ghost Fist collides with Real blood? Of course, it will transfer all that sweet Ghost-DNA!!!

Aka - Horikoshi is saying - Don't worry, Deku won't be quirkless.

OK. Well. Let's move on.

Here is another line from Horikoshi's outline. Did you want to see a heart-warming scene between Nana and Tenko? Too bad for you. You get Bakugou, you voted for him.

(Btw, Shoto is not the only one who doesn't seem to be allowed to have a proper scene with his mom, I guess Tenko cannot even get an emotional afterlife scene. If you are an abuse-victim in story, Horikoshi says - fuck you! Take a swan dive and hope to be reborn as a bully in your next life).

Well, at least Tomura noticed that Kurogiri mysteriously died after Horikoshi couldn't think up an actual proper endgame for him.

OK, onto the MAIN ANTAGONIST's final monologue. It will be deep after being built for 400 chapters, right?

Shigaraki: Well, I didn't even manage to destroy your hand. I amount to just a crying boy.

Deku: Well, I still hate you for stabbing Kacchan and the others. (forget the others, I never cared about the others). I killed you because I was sick of your moping it's the International Board of Therapist's recommended therapy for victims of abuse and grooming.

Shigaraki: Well, what do I say to that. That's so fucking stupid.

Shigaraki: And to my gay little boyfriend, I leave my treasured Nintendo controller.

Deku: Yeah, whatever. I don't really have any thoughts. I've stopped introspection in Act 2. Your life sucked. You need to fuck off now and stop spreading the sadness, I have a victory punch to perform.

Deku: This is the story of how I became the greatest hero by punching the fuck out of this crying, abused little boy and then bathing myself in his nasty pixie dust. killing 2 main villains for the price of 1 in under 7 pages and changed the weather for the dudebros on Twitter can cry about the blue sky in the anime again. I also eradicated sadness with punching it hard enough.

Also - I probably still have a quirk. Tune in to find out in two weeks.

Sensei, with all due respect - this chapter was ass. Visually, thematically, from a storytelling point of view. Even the good ideas were executed badly or were crammed in with terrible ideas. What a fucking let-down.

Will Shigaraki go and be the hero of the villains?

I can see him reconstruct with Overhaul and magic, or I can see that we will get a reveal where Deku had the Lion Turtle solution all along and he has punched Shigaraki just at the angle to magically manifest 5-year old crying Tenko and save him and he was cold and aloof because he already "saved the boy".

I can see a BS solution incoming. But it will not fix this chapter for sure, nor the broader writing issues with Deku's character and with the Deku - Tomura dynamic.

#c1a reads bnha #probably for the last time #bnha 423 #bnha manga leaks #bnha manga spoilers #midoriya izuku #bakugou katsuki #todoroki shouto #shigaraki tomura #kurogiri #aizawa shouta #afo #rooftop trio #bnha meta

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joanasallinger · 1 year

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Unfortunately I’m rather busy for the time being. I hope I have more time to draw again soon and get back to my unfinished video. :<

Managed to edit this pic at least. <3

____ Please note: It is AI generated! I edited the pic and drew over it (hair, skin, eyes, clothing, background) and corrected everything that was wrong to how I liked it (eyes, clothing, lips, ear, hair, tie, image noise etc), but I did not draw that myself! I DO draw, but not this pic! That's an edit. I put a watermark on it because: I spend my time collecting the pics (I only take my own screenshots), I edit everything before I put it on here and I simply put a watermark on every edit and drawing to have a tag to the source. Not because I want to claim everything as mine (this is the internet - what you put out here will never be just yours, erasing a watermark is no problem at all) - but I do it as to: "you want to see more of this? this is where you can find it." It's just the name of my tumblr and yes, I do put effort into everything I post here. No one addressed me concerning this topic, but since artists and AI are having more beef lately, I wanted to make my point clear. :) As I said: I'm drawing myself, I'm creative myself (writing - even though not here), making music, making videos, but also messing around with AI (11Labs or AI-Pic-Generators). To some people everything AI related is bad - but for me, I gotta say: It also got me re-inspired to do things I haven't touched in a while. Or for a story, I can put something in there and it creates something and I take what it created again and make something else out of it - a story, a drawing, an edit, or just something nice to look at and get inspired by. I think - if you don't sell any art this way but just enjoy it for what you can give and take out of it, it's a pretty great thing. :) Still, I felt the need to explain some of my views on it here. Some have more problems with that than others. I do believe that AI-Art will never excel real artists in any way, but I do think that you can enjoy both as long as you don't hurt anyone with it or make money out of it.

#hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow #sebastiansallow #joana sallinger #joanasallinger #slytherin #hogwartslegacy #edit #ai edits

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archer-kacey · 3 months

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Problems with erasing Bendy Book canon:

With the FNAF books, we were told they were canon-divergent fairly early on. For Bendy, this was never specified, leading many to believe this was all just straight-up canon information that they were running with for theorycrafting. For a long time.

Why the hell would you de-canonize the ENTIRE origin story of Boris? He's a central character to Bendy and the Ink Machine.

You're going to throw out THE ENTIRE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF YOUR MAIN VILLAIN? THAT'S.......NOT A GOOD IDEA!

(And before it's pointed out, no, we don't "need" Illusion of Living for "gay evidence." The point here is y'all released an autobiography for one of your two main characters and you're saying it's not canon. That's ludicrous.)

Things that were explained/brought up in the novels that apparently "aren't canon anymore": how Sammy got infected, Thomas's conflicting feelings about the machine he created, the origin of Boris the wolf, several instances of Joey's gaslighting and manipulative behavior and his slow descent into madness after Henry's departure, a look into Gent technology and the Gent experiments that took place after they switched over to "research", Abby Lambert (who SHOULD be in the mainline games all things considered), Joey Drew's ENTIRE AUTOBIOGRAPHY including his PHILOSOPHIES AND REAL ASS LIFE, ANDDD the themes of classism, racism, and sexism that were VERY present at that time in history. Among other things.

You're taking out several new characters for no reason. I'm not saying they all need to return, but it makes zero sense to introduce a bunch of new guys and then immediately abandon them...only to introduce a bunch of OTHER new guys.

I've seen a few comments in response to Mike that go along the lines of "oh thank goodness now I don't need to read the books to understand the lore!" No disrespect, but I think that's a fundamental misunderstanding of what the books do. They enhance your understanding of all the background plot. You don't need to read the books to understand the games. But that shouldn't mean erasing the existing information's canonicity because not everyone wants to read it.

Bendy isn't FNAF. Bendy has a much more streamlined plot. Not everything fits perfectly of course, but to take out such a large chunk of what we THOUGHT was the plot (or plot-adjacent) is headscratching to me. You claim to care about the plot, characters and worldbuilding and then you decide that some of the BEST written interpretations of these characters and their world just aren't "legitimate" now? .......All of a sudden?

I want to punch something

#I'm starting to get really irritated at M+M downplaying the books. no sir they aren't fun extras that's just the actual plot you threw out #this decision would also erase the books' minority and women characters. which I don't think is the intention at all but that's the result #people who are really into bendy are gonna want more canon lore...we should really leave the canon-divergence to fanfics at this point #bendy books #i'm dying #dreams come to life #the lost ones #bendy fade to black #illusion of living #joey drew #adrienne kress #mike mood #themeatly #bendy and the ink machine #bendy and the dark revival

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thewandererh · 6 days

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‼️⚠️TW // medical imagry (IV, slight depiction of veins), noose imagry, a poorly drawn realistic heart organ, intense eye contact, and a set of fellows who are in anguish

@calamarispider💥💥

recently rewatched a playthrough of little nightmares 1 and 2, and drew calamari’s folks with said videos as background noise :]! was trying out different styles of brushes and things on ibispaintX, and had quite a bit of fun doing so. i’ve been easing into doing stress relief art and this was a good example of that?

hope you enjoy yet another bout of fanart calamari haha 🐥 (<- looks up at you like this)

💙 - [gouche brushes, some watercolor] was playing around with the various palettes he was given in arts of him by calamarispider, and sort or blended them all together. I love how blurry mind looks, almost as if you’re passing out while viewing the image. fits with the medical vibe! he looks like he’s skulking away in shame or fear or something. i think i made him look weak because i’m a mind enthusiast. damn. the dark background makes it feel gloomy and mellow, but also scary?

❤️ - {marker primarily, little watercolor} i know he’s like 🧍 but his presence alone can be intimidating, that stare could drive away anyone and he *knows* it. played around a lot with layers and lasso stuff here, and leaned more into a sketchy style almost as if he’s barely there. i love the background in particular because it’s grey and not red, giving him a loss of and a heightening of individuality. doing the hair was fun XD. i specifically remember the fella i was watching play little nightmares 2 at this point getting frustrated with the teacher. silly memory

💜 - (watercolor, pencil pens) this one bounces around styles a lot, and it almost makes him seem more real? i was frustrated with it at first, but i love how some parts of him are more complex and sharp than others. mixed two art references of heart calamarispider had drawn, giving him a sketchy little eye and a more unseen bleeding eye under the blindfold. it looks cool i think :]. this was a big experimentation piece that i look back fondly on :D! I love them all but this especially. I love heart’s almost ‘angel of death’ wing cloak things haha

off i go 🏃💨

OH MAN i forgor minds crown. its ok he left it in the oven(??????)

#chonny jash #cj heart #cj mind #cj soul #chonny’s charming chaos compendium #calamarispiderart jashies #jashlings #chonny jash hms designs #heart mind soul #ibispaintx #lineless art #pokes hearts hair #pats soul on the back #swaddles mind in a blanket

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madlad-sadgal · 10 months

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Y'all liked it so here's a few more things I noticed in my watching of Nimona (again).

Nimona Spoilers!

We get a small section of Ball's innocence wall, and we see that his primary suspect is none other than Thodeus "Todd" Sureblade. Also, Blackheart is used everywhere, most likely as a nod to the comic, but also as what the media has dubbed this new villain, as we do as a society in real life. Giving certain famous serial killers names is an example.

Nimona did some drawings and said it was because she wanted her resume to pop, but it was most likely because she can't write or read as no one really took the time to explain it or teach her.

"Lay low until we RISE LIKE A FIERY PHOENIX FROM THE ASHES TO OVERTHROW THE GOVERNMENT!" Nimona not only spoiled her shifting into a phoenix to save the realm from the canon, but also her coming back (rising from her ashes like a phoenix)

We get another shot of Bal's innocence wall, and there we see a place where he circled in red "Who has the ressources for a laser like that?" And honestly, to me, it reminded me of what the canon did, which would explain the Director, since she clearly has access to the canons. The laser in Bal's sword, the laser in her staff, and finally the laser from the canon. Everything was her.

The Director was most likely acting overly dramatic when talking to Bal because she wanted to reinforce the guilt, and maybe even gaslight him into thinking it was his fault.

As the Director is leaving, we can see Nimona sneaking in as a mouse in the bottom left corner.

When we see the beat up knights, in the upper left corner, you can see a knight stuck in a vending machine, which I just found funny.

The light reflecting off Nimona's eyes, indicating her clear difference from everyone else.

When Nimona throws her axe, it hits a knight in the background who then falls off a ledge and falls down a few stories, so she may have actually killed someone.

We can clearly see Ambrosius go through so many emotions when he sees Bal again; relief that he's alive and he didn't kill him, guilt for his arm when he glanced at the prosthetic, confusion when Nimona calls him Nemesis, and surprise when she drags Bal away. Also, when she drags him into the closet, we get a short shot of Ambrosius half way through unsheathing his sword.

Bal's "Did you see the way he looked at me?" Being a parallel to Nimona's "Did you see the way that little girl looked at me?"

Nimona quite literally rips a pole in half and bends it over the door to keep it closed, showing a great amount of strength.

The "You're gonna die in this closet!" Joke that we all catches but I still wanted to point out because it's funny.

As Nimona is falling through the floors as a whale, she tells us that Todd canonically has a small dick ("Cold in here?")

I saw this pointed out once, but still wanted to as well, but Nimona says that she spruced up the Lair by making it more evil, but she quite literally adds Christmas lights, showing her childish side.

When we get another shot of the new murder wall, we can see the picture of Todd again, except Nimona drew a fist punching him in the face.

That's what I have so far. Might do more if y'all like this!

#nimona #nimona movie #ballister boldheart #ambrosius goldenloin #goldenheart #ballister x ambrosius #director

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ataleofcrowns · 9 months

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Bonus Lore: Crowns of Old, Part III

[ Part I | Part II ]

Back with another lore drop from the Patreon!! This time we'll be looking at the Eighth, Ninth and Tenth Crowns ✨

The Eighth Crown: Bargiran of Great Mercy

When speaking of Crowns that are of more humble backgrounds, Crown Bargiran is the one that comes to mind first. Due to the plague that swept through Arsur during the reign of Crown Lorîcan, Bargiran lost both her parents and was orphaned at a young age. Her older sister did her best to take care of them both, but she was only barely an adult herself, and they struggled greatly. Many nights were spent sleeping on the streets and begging for scraps of food.

It was Bargiran's great fortune that they were found, yet it was even greater fortune to Arsur. Bargiran had an uncanny talent in healing magic. Many of her days as an orphan was spent helping at a public health clinic in exchange for food, where she quickly discovered her talent for magic, and especially her talent for healing and alchemy.

Shortly after, Crown Lorîcan received her vision, which showed her Bargiran. At this point, Lorîcan had already imprisoned her previous Sorcerer months before. As the plague continued to sweep through the lands, unabated, she knew that she was running out of time to find her successor. There was a real risk that Bargiran could die before Lorîcan could find her, in which case there could be an unprecedented crisis in Arsur.

No one knew what would happen should the successor die before they could officially receive the Blessing of the spirits during their coronation. Some scholars worried that it would bring the line of Crowns to an end. As such, no resource was spared to find Bargiran. Thankfully, she was found before disaster could strike.

Unfortunately, Lorîcan's tutelage was extremely short-lived. Only weeks after finding her successor, she would show signs of being infected herself, and within days she passed away. Bargiran became the Crown at the young age of sixteen--the youngest a Crown has ever taken the throne--and made it her sole purpose to put an end to the plague. Either by finding a cure, or by curbing it as much as possible.

It was upon her coronation that she chose the name Bargiran for herself, meaning "one whose burden is heavy". She knew it would be an incredibly difficult task. It would take ten years before Bargiran, together with expert healers from all over Arsur and even beyond, would find a cure. The need for it became even more dire for Bargiran personally when her sister fell ill.

Bargiran worked herself to exhaustion, famously fainting during a court meeting and falling off the stairs of the throne room, nearly breaking her neck were it not for her Royal Protector. Eventually, her efforts bore fruit, and after a long, devastating decade, Bargiran found a cure at the young age of twenty-six years old.

However, it was a great tragedy that she could not find the cure in time to save her sister. People far and wide considered Bargiran to be one of the greatest Crowns in history, likening her to a savior, yet Bargiran never forgave herself for not being able to cure her sister in time. While she helped Arsur heal from its wounds, Bargiran would never be able to heal herself.

The Ninth Crown: Beloved Dila

Dila became the Crown during a time of relative peace; there were no wars to be fought, and Arsur had finally reached a point of stability. Dila’s reign was best known for the flourishing of arts and culture within the Empire. In fact, it was during her/their reign that pleasure houses grew into the influence they now possess.

Crown Dila was known for being a beauty without compare. It wasn’t solely their looks, but also their innate charm that drew people to them; rather, her charm enhanced her appearance into something of almost mythical proportions. A few historians have encountered accounts that say that Crown Dila’s magic itself was the cause, that she possessed a peculiar aura that wasn’t quite elemental in nature, but rather one that enchanted onlookers. These accounts were not verified, however, and officially Crown Dila’s magic is listed to have been an Earth affinity.

Centuries later, poets still compose verses referring to Crown Dila, describing rosewater flowing from their darkly coiled tresses, or the light of the moon held in the night of her eyes. There is even a famous story written of Crown Dila’s encounter with the peri queen, where it is said Dila charmed even Queen Nis and was granted a blessing by her that would ensure a long, peaceful reign.

During their lifetime, Dila had the most lovers out of any Crown to date. Their royal concubines numbered into the two dozen at their largest recorded size, though Dila formally courted only four people during their reign; all four became Jewels of the Crown as well. Dila was very free with her affections, but also selective in who she romanced, even casually.

Their royal concubines were almost all artists, of various kinds. Painters, sculptors, dancers, singers, musicians, poets, writers and storytellers, even weavers of cloth and carpets—Dila greatly admired and loved all kinds of artistic expression.

Being a royal concubine usually meant to be committed to the Crown, but Dila went against convention and allowed their concubines to court whomever they wished. Many of Dila’s concubines were artists who worked for pleasure houses, and thanks to gaining Dila’s favor, their pleasure houses rose in status as well.

The Tenth Crown: Love-blind Jiyan

Jiyan was known for her/his/their love for life. It was undoubtedly the influence of their mentor, Crown Dila, who was famous for guiding Arsur into an age where the arts would flourish. This continued under Jiyan's reign, as he was equally fond of all the best things life had to offer. Perhaps to an excess.

While Jiyan was a very capable Crown, especially good at navigating difficult diplomatic relations, they were also a very passionate person who tended to have an impulsive streak. Early in her reign this was brushed off, as everyone assumed Jiyan would mature into her role. He was only crowned at the age of twenty, after all, and would gain wisdom with time and experience.

Unfortunately, no one could anticipate the disaster that Jiyan's impulses would drag Arsur into.

It started as an innocent flirtation. Jiyan noticed the provincial army commander of Zerat during one of their court meetings. The commander in question, Asin, reported to the Crown regarding conflicts with some rebellious nobles within the province.

Jiyan was immediately taken with him. Commander Asin was of equal age to Jiyan, very accomplished at only twenty-eight years of age, and also said by some to have an appearance that was quite pleasing to the eye. Jiyan would find excuses to talk to him while he stayed at the palace, and Asin--very flattered the Crown would give him any attention at all--indulged her quite readily.

Soon, Asin found himself seeking out Jiyan as often as Jiyan would visit him. With the Royal Palace being in Zeratun, where Jiyan preferred to stay, it was very easy for the two to see each other whenever they wanted. Before either of them realized it, what had started as playful banter quickly spiraled out of control over the next few weeks.

It became a whispered rumor among the servants that the Crown had started to invite Zerat's army commander to his chambers. Jiyan's Sorcerer and Royal Protector already knew, of course, but they didn't think it necessary to intervene. The Imperial Court, however, had other thoughts.

They confronted Jiyan on her relationship with Asin during a court meeting. While some were clearly taking advantage of the rumors to weaken Jiyan's position, others had sincere reservations about whether it was a good idea to take a subordinate in charge of a sizable portion of the military as a lover. Zerat's army was the largest and strongest out of all the provinces, eclipsing even the Imperial Army at the time.

Jiyan dismissed their concerns, and the matter was closed, albeit not settled. While Jiyan and Asin's relationship had started out well, over time, they started to argue more and more. Not about their relationship, but about military matters. It soured their romance, both having part of the blame. Asin started voicing opinions on the Imperial Army which was far beyond his station, and Jiyan started belittling Asin's opinions on matters he did have expertise in.

The last straw came when Jiyan ordered Asin to round up the rebellious nobles and officially imprison them. Asin knew it would inflame the situation, but he was also incensed to be condescended to yet again, for a moment forgetting his rank. His outright refusal infuriated Jiyan who, in another moment of impulsiveness, stripped Asin of his rank.

To Asin, it felt like betrayal of the worst kind. He was disgraced, humiliated. To the servants and guards who witnessed the huge blow-up between the two, it came as little surprise when a few weeks later, reports came in that Zerat's provincial army had joined the ranks of the rebels and had begun an uprising in earnest.

Jiyan was struck with shame and regret, at many things. How he had treated Asin, and even having begun a relationship with Asin to begin with. The civil war that followed was a bloody one, though it was confined to Zerat and put down within the year.

The Crown was not present for any of the battles, or for Asin's eventual capture and execution. She never spoke of him again, and it was understood that one should never mention his name in Jiyan's presence.

The civil war that was waged during their reign became known as the War of Lovers.

#worldbuilding #patreon #a tale of crowns

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duckduckington · 1 month

Text

Differences of the WoY visual style between the pilot and the final show (Along some other stuff) (Part 1)

So a crap-ton of cartoon show bibles and pilots surfaced recently, which is kind of fucking cool, and it included stuff from Wander over Yonder, which is way fucking cooler.

First thing I did was over-analyze the show's visual style and I figure I should put my findings somewhere, so here you go! In a chronological order, it's easier that way (and builds suspense for the real good stuff, ooohooooh (in a spooky ghost voice)).

The first shot alone already brings forth some differences. As far as I know, the show never illustrates space like this, entirely black with just a couple of stars to break the void. There's usually some blue star dust or something, kinda like this:

The skullship was planned to be 3D-animated apparently, instead of being drawn in the same style as the backgrounds. This allows for WAY more complex movements, since it's easier to pull off.

We then get to take a looksie inside of the ship... this isn't like ANYTHING in the show.

We do see control rooms on occasion, but not one like this. It's a circular room with rows of watchdogs on the wall, watching monitors, circulating the middle where Hater sits on his throne. The railings on its support carry Peepers and his cockpit. Two watchdogs control the ship (I think) at the front. That blue goop at the top might be the ship's brain (you can also already see some animation errors in the front, peep their grabbers). There ain't ever been a color palette inside the ship like this, they usually opt for red and black rather than red and white. This might have been their solution to making the characters native to Hater pop out against the background before deciding to just substitute black for purple.

There's still bright locations within the skullship, but they're non-threatening ones, like the food court.

Commander Peepers and the watchdogs have designs that, while closer to their final versions than the pitch bible (or whatever that cover of that graphic novel was supposed to be), carry some traits still worth pointing out (well, so does everything here, but pshhhshshhhshh).

SHINY

COLLARS

Puffy collars around necks, wrists and ankles.

Detailed irises.

Detailed soles on shoes.

Those lines on their gloves that you see in your grandpa's toons.

(bugs bunny pictured flipping the bird)

This is specific to Peepers; the jagged thunder-spike on his helmet has dimension to it, as opposed to the implied dimension in his final design. Spikes on the side are also way longer here.

His eye/face emotes differently by just utilizing a black eyelid, rather than turning the hat into a pseudo-eyebrow, kinda like Double D from Ed, Edd n' Eddy.

We then get a glimpse at Hater's design...

Despite his face missing, you can already see some differences, like his arms resembling more those of an actual skeleton and packing a lot less mass. His hood is also a bit more tout and the folds surrounding it have more empathis.

Another space shot with some shapes to break up the infinite black; it's not always you see a warm color palette for space in the actual show.

Maybe here, when Wander and Sylvia stop the sun from blowing up in "The Good Deed".

When entering the city that's about to get its shit stirred by Hater, we notice that there aren't ANY other locations illustrated like this. We usually have smooth, airbrushy looking stuff, when this is more reminiscent of a comic strip, with clear lines and some hatching to indicate weight here and there. Same goes for the townsfolk, they remind me of... Krazy Kat or something. Craig McCracken has gone on record saying he drew a lot of inspiration from old comic strips, but I don't know if Krazy Kat is one of them. I just thought of it :)

The inside of the skullship looked different so this place might have had an unique artstyle to other locations we would've seen in this version of the show, but that would also be a big difference since the actual show keeps the background style consistent throughout the whole run (as far as I know).

Goes in hand with the skullship; the watchdogs are 3D-animated here, although subtly.

Different gun designs... they look more like water guns here. Big ol' TUBES. Their guns in the show are more sci-fi-esque.

Hater's logo is different, in-line with his design. Way flatter design too. Might as well take a look at his actual face now.

Well, more like next time. Just found out you can only use up to 30 images in one post. Oopsies. I'll continue this when I have the energy! I'll continue my chronological analysis/rambling and perhaps talk about the general art-style and animation at the end. Might take me a couple of more posts.

#wander over yonder #WoY #animation #this is by far the longest post on here up until now #i was fascinated with the pilot when i saw it so y'know i had to put everything i was doing aside and write this out #rambly #long post

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munsons-maiden · 2 years

Text

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐓𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠

Okay I hope you’ll have as much fun reading this as I had while writing it😂 Enjoy! - Love, Kiki 🖤

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 | Eddie Munson x female reader (and platonic Eddie x Steve awkwardly befriending each other)

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | Based on this ask: Eddie wanting to do a good job pleasing his girl so he goes to Steve to awkwardly af ask for advice. Eddie doesn’t have much experience in bedroom activities, but since he wants to pleasure you as best as he can, he begrudgingly throws his pride overboard and seeks advice with Steve The Hair Harrington himself.

𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭 | humor, talk about smut

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 2k

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | talk abut SMUT obviously (only read if you’re 18+ years old!)

𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐄𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭.

𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬, 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 & 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐝; 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐬 𝐭��𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 ♡

“You want me to tell you what?!”

“Can you please scream it a little louder so the rest of this goddamn town will be in on the conversation as well, Harrington,” Eddie hissed through gritted teeth.

“Well, you shouldn’t have shown up at my work place to polish up your sex ed knowledge, then, Munson,” Steve shot back as he put the last of the VHS tapes he’d been sorting back into its spot on the shelf before returning to his usual place at the counter, Eddie trailing in his path like a lost stray dog.

“Look –“ Steve began, annoyance written all over his features, but the chime of the bell above the Family Video entrance drew his gaze to the spot behind Eddie, whose expression darkened further in return at the sound of giggles rising from the door and the sudden enraptured gleam of interest flashing in Steve’s eyes which Eddie deduced had everything to do with said giggles.

“Hey. Harrington,” Eddie grumbled, snapping his fingers in front of Steve’s face, whose expression turned gloomy again when his eyes met Eddie’s. The girls still kept giggling in the background.

“Okay, here’s the deal,” Eddie drawled, folding his hands on the counter, the metal of his bracelet clinking against the wood, “You’ll help me out real quick with this and I’ll leave you to your…” Eddie turned, following Steve’s line of sight to the three girls having assembled in the romantic comedies corner, “Job.”

“Or I’ll just ignore you.”

Eddie tilted his head, a sardonic smile on his lips. “I promise, I’m hard to ignore. I bet the chicks will dig it if I’m breathing down your neck while you’re trying to flirt.”

“For fuck’s sake.” Steve pinched the bridge of his nose, and Eddie smile widened into a triumphant grin as he drawled, “I knew we’d come to an agreement. Since we, you know, fought together. Have been to Mordor together. Destroyed the Death Star –“

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Steve sighed, “I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about, dude.”

With a last longing gaze at the group of girls from Steve and a pointed roll of his eyes from Eddie, Steve waved for Eddie to join him behind the counter.

“Okay. Teach me your ways, Yoda,” Eddie said, jumping to take a seat at the top of the counter while Steve crossed his arms over his chest with not even barely veiled irritation.

“This is so weird.”

“It is,” Eddie agreed. “Sadly, you’re my best option. And even more sadly, the only one as well. So, here I am.”

“I am one lucky guy,” Steve muttered under his breath, “Okay, so…what do you even want to know? I’m sure you’re acquainted with the…the birds and the bees.”

There was a beat of silence as Steve watched Eddie fiddle with the bracelet around his arm – and realized that the guy was actually nervous. Not so metal anymore. The thought was followed by a burst of guilt as he realized that the old Steve, the one he’d left dead and buried in the past, had briefly resurfaced.

He might be wary of the guy – and yes, jealous, because Henderson worshiped the ground he was walking on, which had gotten even worse ever since that blasted guitar solo in the Upside Down and his face-off with the stupid bats which yes, had been…metal… – but Eddie Munson had turned out to be a hero after all. And he’d jumped into Lover’s Lake to help save Steve’s own ass. It didn’t matter that Nancy and Robin had jumped in first. Hell, with the way Steve had treated people like Eddie back in his King-Of-Hawkins-High days, he’d have totally understood if Munson had opted to let him drown.

It must have taken someone like Eddie a lot of courage to come to someone like Steve for bedroom advice. To make himself vulnerable like that in front of a guy who, not that long ago, would have most probably taken the chance to mock him with it.

It was obvious how much Eddie loved you. It had been when he’d nearly given his life to save you from these bats, and coming to Steve Harrington for advice must have been a very close second to running into a swarm of monsters for Eddie The Freak.

Fucking Hell.

“Look,” Steve said, careful to let his voice take on a kinder tone, “I think it’s actually…it’s sweet that you’re throwing your pride into the wind and ask me for advice and I didn’t mean to be a dick about it. I was, probably, but I didn’t mean to be, okay? I just thought it was a little weird to come to me for advice when your girlfriend is like a little sister to me. But I see now that I’m…” He straightened a little, flashing Eddie a smirk, “The obvious choice.”

“How very Harrington of you to say that,” Eddie quipped.

“So are you going to ask or are you waiting for me to read your mind, Munson?”

There was another beat of silence before Eddie said quietly, “I’m…I don’t have any experience. Before her, I mean. I mean, I do, now, with her, but I’m not sure if she’d voice…uh. Constructive criticism. And I’m worried I’m not…good enough.”

For a moment, Steve didn’t know what to say, before he settled on, “Dude.” Not very reassuring, but his tone was compassionate at least.

“Yeah,” Eddie scoffed, “Thanks, man. Good talk.”

“I don’t get the problem.”

“There is no problem,” Eddie repeated, looking a little at the end of his tether, “Not yet. But what if she gets bored? What if I’m not good enough at…taking care of her?”

Steve scoffed. “She won’t leave you, man. She loves you.”

Eddie looked as if he were ready to strangle him. “I’m not scared she’ll leave. I want it to be mind-blowing for her. I want to pleasure her like she deserves.”

Steve pinched the bridge of his nose. Too much information. Too many mental images. But an idea came to his mind. “Did you ever go down on her? The ladies dig that.”

“Do what?”

Steve blinked. Good lord. “To…you know.” He waved vaguely in the air. “Use your tongue on her.”

There was a beat of silence before Eddie said, “I know what going down on someone means. Jesus, I’m inexperienced, not a Regency Era chick. But what exactly do I do?”

“There’s no formula,” Steve groaned with exasperation. “This isn’t math.”

“Yeah,” Eddie quipped, “Trust me, if it was, I wouldn’t have sought your help.”

“And yet I’m the one who graduated at my first attempt.”

Eddie gave him another sardonic smirk. “Because Wheeler dragged you along with her over the finish line.”

Steve sighed, rubbing his face. “Have you never seen a porn movie in your life?”

Eddie cocked an eyebrow, before he drawled “’Hey sweetheart, I did some research by watching porn, wanna try it out?’ Incredibly romantic.”

“You wouldn’t have to phrase it like that.”

“Because that would make it more romantic? No. Nope. Won’t do that.”

Steve countered, “You didn’t come to me for romantic advice, you came to me for sex advice.”

“Which I still did not receive,” Eddie deadpanned.

Steve sighed. “A magazine, then?”

“I mean, I read Heavy Metal. There’s stuff in there but that’s, like –“

“Wait, you read these housewife novels?”, Steve snickered, “Like Karen Wheeler?”

“Look, if you were married to Ted Wheeler,” Eddie quipped, “You’d read that stuff, too. But no, no housewife novels. It’s just comics. Fantasy, science fiction, all that stuff. There’s erotica in there but the focus is on the story.”

“For a second I thought you were interesting,” Steve teased.

“The tongue, Harrington,” Eddie groaned, “What do I do with my goddamn tongue?”

“Not just your tongue. You test the waters. Kiss her, draw it out, try edging her a little while you’re at it. Tease. It’s about the teasing. Trial and error. See what gets her going. This is weird, man. This is so weird.”

“I’m not confident, okay?”, Eddie sighed, fiddling with the chain on the sleeve of his leather jacket, “I’m attentive, I know all that already. I just lack the confidence to go through with it because I fear I’ll do something wrong.”

Steve blinked. “You ran into a swarm of monster bats to divert them from her, were ready to lay down your own life for hers, proved your undying love for the girl and now you’re scared to go down on her? Did I get that right?”

Eddie raked his fingers through his mess of dark curls before burying his face in his hands with a muffled groan.

And Steve finally understood that Eddie hadn’t just come to him for advice.

He’d sought him out for reassurance.

Because Eddie had been the freak all his life. Bullied for being different, bullied for everything he did simply because he was different. By people like Steve. And no metal guitar solo in a parallel dimension, no heroic face-off with a swarm of monster bats, would ever change that feeling of being not enough, of being weird and wrong and unworthy, of constant fear of being laughed at and mocked because no matter what he’d done, people had always laughed and mocked. And even though Eddie knew you’d never, ever laugh about him, the fear was rooted too deep.

With newfound sympathy, Steve moved to sit on the countertop beside Eddie. There was another moment of silence in which he tried to grasp the right words, before he said, “You know, the first few times I was with a girl, I was a jerk.”

Eddie raised his head to give him as sideways glance as Steve continued, “Total jerk. I was the King of Hawkins High after all. I didn’t especially care about anyone but myself. And my reputation. I’m ashamed of the guy I was. It became a game to be the guy who got all the chicks, to make it good for them to stroke my ego. And then I got together with Nance. And I fell in love with her. And my whole experience faded to dust because this was the girl I loved. I was so fucking nervous the first few times and still it was always the best because I loved her. I don’t know if she ever loved me the same way. But I know without a doubt that Y/N loves you with all her heart. That’s all that matters in the end. Not experience but feelings.”

“Shit, man. That was deep. I didn’t expect that from you,” Eddie breathed.

“Yeah,” Steve scoffed, “Me neither. If you tell anyone about this conversation, I’ll haul your ass back into the Upside Down to let the bats finish the job, Munson.”

Eddie chuckled, already moving to leave as Steve added, as an afterthought, “I never actually said thank you, by the way.”

When Eddie gave him a confused little frown, Steve added, “For diverting these things.”

“Well, I never said thank you for frying that ugly eldritch’s rotting ass.”

Steve snorted. It might have been a little late to say it; it might have been something Eddie would have needed to hear way sooner – but Eddie had already placed his cards on the table in the Upside Down, confessing his own jealousy of Steve.

Now it was his turn.

So Steve added, “I guess I’m a little jealous, too.”

The expression on Eddie’s face was the epitome of ‘crestfallen’. And wary, Steve realized. As if Eddie was still waiting for him to burst into laughter and reveal the words as another cruel joke to mock him.

“Jealous. Steve The Hair Harrington,” Eddie repeated cautiously, drawing out the words in this weird sing-song way he used to speak in, “Is jealous of me. Yeah. Got me for a second.” The mirthless little scoff Eddie uttered under his breath didn’t escape Steve’s notice.

“I’ve been jealous for a while, actually,” Steve confessed with a grim scoff of his own. “I mean. Henderson worships the ground you’re walking on. Eddie this, Eddie that, Eddie said…it was like Henderson just found someone new to look up to and I was scared I would lose the boy, in a way. I’m not some cool Dungeon-Master-D&D-geek. I don’t know these books with the rings you’re always talking about or all the other stuff. You’re not the only one who cares what the little shrimp thinks, you know? And even apart from that, you got an uncle who cares. And you found your forever girl.” He hated how bitter he sounded all of a sudden. Because Eddie Munson had everything Steve Harrington wanted. Because Eddie Munson had found the love Steve was still searching for.

“Might be time to see a shrink, huh,” Steve finished lamely.

With a smirk – a companionable one – Eddie quipped, “Well, if you ever need romance advice, you know where to find me.”

“This conversation never happened.”

“Nope. I was never here,” Eddie agreed with a grin. “We can go back to silently loathing each other again now. I’ll leave you to your flirting, then. Good luck.”

“I don’t need luck,” Steve quipped, watching Eddie jump down from the counter to leave. But before he did, he turned around once more, giving Steve a small smile. A genuine one.

“Thank you,” he said.

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞 | Let me know if you’d like a part 2 with the actual smut action! ♡

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson imagine #stranger things #stranger things eddie #stranger things 4 #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #stranger things imagine #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #stranger things x y/n #steve harrington #joe quinn

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whirligig-girl · 2 years

Photo

D'v: "Hahaa... we're holding hands again... I’m so sorry I wasn't watching where I was going and I was just reading up on--well what I was reading wasn’t important--I was..."

T'l: silent Vulcan noises and depraved illogical thoughts

some artist’s notes and fic snippets below the break:

Getting the pose right was a nightmare!

I drew Tendi and T’lyn on different layers with different colors because otherwise it’d be too confusing. The mess going on in their legs and hands especially. It was a challenge to find a relatively natural looking pose that allowed their hands to match up without hiding anything important. I found i could draw a four-segment stick-figure limb connecting their shoulders, and that helped me get their arms right. The legs were also a mess to figure out, but mostly just because they’re a confusing mess of limbs--they don’t have to intertwine nice.

Also, T’lyn is going to make me learn to draw hands right I swear to god. I could not half-ass the hands on this one.

narrative snipets break:

at that second panel, when Tendi realizes what's happened and gets embarassed, she immediately like, tries to let go and raise her hands respectfully......... but t'lyn just... doesn't let go. for a moment.

Ray Daly’s contribution. (Actually Ray contributed to feedback while I was drawing it, but...)

Mariner: it couldn't have been that bad, tendi Tendi, still flustered: not that bad?? Not that bad?!? would it be fine if you tripped and Bradward’s D--?! Mariner: eekaaay! you've made your point!!

Earlier version when I thought I was finished:

It’s good to go the extra mile on your art. I think this plainer version would still have been fine, but since I went so far as to actually draw the background for a change, adding the dropped/thrown clutter (PADDs and Tricorder) helped a lot.

T’lyn and Tendi’s mess of legs was hard to differentiate (though adding the shading helps). I made Tendi’s pants slightly darker, though with the shading you can barely tell. I also gave them different boot colors. The original idea was that pure science officers have black and blue boots and medical officers have white and blue boots. We can see that in a few places in season 1. But it seems like they eventually abandoned that concept and just give all science officers white and blue boots. T’lyn is not a medical officer, so obviously she gets black boots. Technically since Tendi is in Senior Science Officer training instead of Medical, she should have black boots, but I gave her white boots so you could tell them apart more easily.

I wasn’t even going to add the facial expressions. I drew this to figure out which one I wanted to use:

Then I put it in the drawing.

But I just kept looking at the sketch and thinking “both are good. Both are good!”

So I made it two panels. Because of how the layers were set up this was easier said than done. But I managed it just fine in the end. I really like how she’s backlit by the ceiling lights in the inset panels. Some kind of like, contrast between the angelic goddess looking down at you and the reality that she’s an emotional mess who wears her emotions on her sleeve.

It was also really important to add the inset panels because I don’t want to give the impression that either Tendi is doing this on purpose nor any orion fem dom stereotypes. It’s way funnier and cuter if she just keeps accidentally finding herself in these scenarios, worried that T’lyn’s resentment for her is growing because SHE KEEPS AVOIDING ME OUTSIDE OF STUDY SESSIONS! AND WHEN WE MAKE EYE CONTACT SHE LOOKS AWAY! I FUCKED UP! but actually T’lyn is just struggling to control her mad nasty thoughts about just what she’d like to do to Tendi (she’d like to hold her hands some more)

Adding the inset panels lets me make sure Tendi’s character is adequately captured so she’s not just A Thing Happening To T’lyn.

The dropped PADDs and Tricorder make the scene seem more diagetic, and just more real/plausible. They’re busy looking at their PADDs and not looking where they’re going, see? The one that’s face down is T’lyn’s, the two face up are Tendi’s. The PADD screens are cropped screenshots from the show that have been edited and then skewed/rotated/rescaled into place

The first PADD is Tendi doing research on Vulcan touch telepathy (after being told by someone else what the significance of handholding is to Vulcans), the second one is actually breaking the fourth wall and addressing the viewer directly.

one of the last touches I added was to erase the line-art around her pupils, so the pupils would look smaller (aids to the feeling of shock) and add a nostril (Dunno why--I never draw nostrils on Lower Decks characters, but it just seemed correct in this case) and a little wrinkle on her eye. All this was added because, when I drew Tendi’s face, it felt more detailed than T’lyn’s for some reason (freckles I think?) and I felt I had to make them match.

T’lyn’s face here was fun and took a while to get right. She (and all Vulcans in Lower Decks) are usually half-lidded, but we see T’lyn’s kinda shock when Tendi grabs her hand in the One Canon T’lyndi Scene We Have At Least Until Next Year--even then she looks attentive, not necessarily shocked.

I just think it’s kind of cool that they both have non-red blood and colorful blush.

#T'lyndi #Tendi #T'lyn #if you like you should reblog; likes do nothing on tumblr #wlw #femslash #D'vana Tendi / T'lyn #D'vana Tendi x T'lyn #Star Trek #Star Trek Lower Decks #Lower Decks #premarital hand holding #Orion #Vulcan #LWD #LOW #LDS

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mysafehaneul · 10 months

Text

II.AQUAMARINE

JEON WONWOO X READER

WORDS: 7k+

GENRE: ARRANGE CONTRACT MARRIAGE AU! ENEMIES TO LOVERS!

ANGST, (obviously lol), Fluff, Smut (in future chapters not this one).

This is my original work for free comsumption because fuck capitalism but please do not steal it. All characters are orginal except The members of Seventeen, I do not own them. This is purely a work of fiction with no similarity with real life whatsoever, If any incident feel familiar, That is purely a coincedence. Please drop your feedback as it helps me feel motivated and improve. Happy Reading!

Previously On

CHAPTER 1

Here's the Picture that inspired this chapter.

CHAPTER 2: A RELUCTANT AGREEMENT

Ten years ago

Through the corridors of yesteryear, you recall the day when, in that bright classroom, red chairs and whiteboards, your professor's voice echoed through the room. The chirps of the birds could be heard from outside the window. Silent and attentive, like a gust of wind, he burst into the classroom, a whirlwind of energy and presence. Brown hair, tousled like a cascade of autumn leaves, His eyes bore the stories yet to be told; gentle and expressive, his brows arched as if to frame his emotions, a canvas upon which his feelings painted their masterpieces. And that smile, my goodness, that smile, a warm sunbeam peeking through the clouds, a constant presence on his lips, as if kindness itself chose to reside there. He tilted his lean body as he excused himself through the narrow passageway between the tables without knocking over the laptops or catching the professor's eyes.

Professor Stevens spun the pointer in his hand, expounding on the intricacies of change management. ''So as we can see from this point, change is an inherent part of life because the ability to adapt to a new circumstance is a hallmark of human resilience. From personal transformations to shifts within organisations, the psychological aspects of change and adaptation play a pivotal role in our ability to navigate unfamiliar'' His voice drew out and lost its trail when the movement at the back of the class disrupted his lecture. Catching sight of the intruder, voice laced with reprimand and amusement, he said, ''Stop right there, Mr. Mouse. Where are you attempting to sneak into?'' following his line of vision, all twenty pairs of eyes looking back at him. Through the collective attention of the classroom, Joshua could feel the burn of it as its evidence slowly rose to his cheeks. His embarrassment was palpable, an eloquent smile tucked away, and his gaze cast downward as if the most interesting object in the world were now on the floor beneath him. ''The class started twenty minutes ago, young man,'' the professor's voice resonated. With a sheepish grin and the shoulder strap of his backpack clutched tightly over his shoulder, Joshua lifted his head, his fingers finding refuge at the back of his head. ''Sorry, Dr. S,'' a hint of apologetic charm twinkling in his eyes. A swift retort danced in the professor's gaze. ''Party went too long,'' he quipped, and a ripple of chuckles traversed the classroom. ''Come here and sit in your assigned seat'' and went back to the lecture. Reclaiming the reins of the lecture, he went back to highlighting the nuances of adaptation, echoing through the walls. But his words faded into the background as you stood in the midst of that moment, your heart beating in a newfound rhythm. Your gaze was an unwitting lighthouse, locked onto him, and the cadence of his movement to his seat enveloped your senses. Your reverie was broken by a nudge from your best friend. Pulling you back from your daydreams. Her voice, laced with playful jes, reached your ears. ''I get that he's cute, but stop doorling.''

A smile adorned your lips. Rolling your eyes, you forced your eyes back to your professor. Unbeknownst to you, a pair of the same brown eyes got fixated on the person right next to you.

...

Present day

Laughter flowed like a melody, woven into the golden threads of the lamps and chandeliers above the table. Amidst the opulent splendour of the dining hall, the clinking glasses and the delicate harmony of forks and knives became the soundtrack of the evening. Your parents are mainly leading the conversations, engaging in animated conversations about Mr. Hoshimoto, the CEO of Tiger Baby Media, and his inexplicable obsession with tigers. ''I tell you,'' your father declared, his voice filled with mirth and the boost of wine. '' One of these days, he'll start adding 'rawr' at the end of every sentence.'' The collective laughter that followed enveloped the room with shared amusement.

And there, across the expanse of the table, was him. His eyes, as sharp and inquisitive as a fox, a shade of black as deep and enigmatic as the night sky, held stories untold, a universe of thoughts and emotions concealed within their depths. His gaze was both intense and preceptive, as if he possessed an innate ability to see beyond the surface and to delve into the hidden corners of the soul. met yours in a challenge, a dance of determination that played out in unspoken verse. With a lazy smile gracing his lips, he laid down his fork, reaching for his glass in sync with your movement, like a subtle mirroring of your actions. A silent duel of wills, a tug of intentions, unfurled between you both. His words echoing in your head: the information you believed was unbeknownst to the whole world, he is aware of it. You steeled your resolve; no matter what, you would not let him breach your composure. You will not let him have the benefit of doubt that he got under your skin. You gave a subtle cheer to the glass and brought it to your lips.

But the universe had other plans. For your mother's voice, a beacon of redirection cut through the atmosphere, dissolving your silent standoff. A victorious grin danced on her lips, a know-it-all grin that spoke volumes of maternal triumph. ''Mrs.Jeon is asking you something,'' she announced, her words pulling you from the magnetic pull of his gaze. You redirected your attention, a reluctant withdrawal from the battlefield of gazes, only to meet the warm and understanding smile of Mrs. Jeon, who encouraged familiarity with a dismissive wave of her hand. "Call me Sunmi," she insisted, her tone one of amity. "So, Y/n, I've heard you completed your education and now handle your father's business in Switzerland. Any particular reason?" Her inquiry hung in the air, a canvas upon which you painted your aspirations and your reasons for charting your own path beyond the shadows of legacy. "I like the weather over there," you offered, your chuckles echoing like a chorus that surrounded you. "On a serious note," you continued, eyes glinting, determination set like steel. "I wanted to expand my horizons beyond the family's shadow, learn about the world, experience life, and make friends." And then, the audacity in his gaze pierced through, his mocking remark barely veiled, ''who feel like family'' a reminder that he was present in every corner of your world, even here. Your gaze, unwavering and defiant, shifted from Mrs. Jeon to him, a smile that whispered "Fuck off" without uttering a word. And then came the probing question that shifted the air—a playful inquiry about your romantic inclinations.

So, Y/N, do you have any boyfriends or girlfriends? '' "Suni—"

"Honey, it's the 20th century. A girl can have options." Sunmi's voice, cheekily defiant, carried an air of rebellion, a mischievous smirk playing on her lips as she leaned on her palm and elbows on the table. a posture that didn't sit well with your mother's etiquette-driven sensibilities.

"We're all friends here, aren't we?" she mused, her gaze challenging the boundaries of decorum. With a calculated tilt of your head and your voice a blend of wit and audacity, you responded, "Not sure. I'll have to check my dungeon in Switzerland to see if he's still there." The room held its breath, a suspended moment, a tightrope between jest and earnestness. Then, like a storm breaking, the room erupted in laughter—a deep, soulful laugh that enveloped you, drawing you into its embrace. Among the harmonies of shared amusement, his laughter stood out—a sonorous echo that mirrored the rhythm of your own mirth. He has a nice laugh, you thought to yourself. And amid the laughter, Sunmi's declaration washed over you like a gentle tide. "I like you," she confessed, her words an embrace of shared connection. "I knew I was going to like you." As the conversation flowed seamlessly back to its course, you found yourself excusing your way from the table—a retreat to solitude in the powder room. Yet even as you left, your curious eyes met his, his amused smile leaving a lingering trace on your thoughts.

In the realm where awareness transcends mere information, a deeper truth takes root. Information, like fleeting gusts of wind, is consumed and forgotten, but awareness—ah, awareness—unfurls like petals, revealing what lies beneath the façade presented to the world. It's the art of observation that grants one the privilege of peering beyond the surface, uncovering the hidden layers waiting to be unveiled. Such was the state that Wonwoo found himself in on a Thursday morning, stirred by a curiosity that had lain dormant for far too long. As your graceful figure retreated from the opulent dining hall, a realisation swept over him like a gentle breeze. He became acutely aware that the waters of your persona ran deeper than what shimmered on the surface, and an inexplicable urge surged within him to plunge into those depths. A subtle clearing of the throat snapped his thoughts back to the present, a reminder that it was impolite to let one's gaze linger too long. Such introspective musings were often doubled in embarrassment when witnessed by the lady's father. Caught in an unspoken exchange with your father, their eyes locked briefly, and an unspoken recognition passed between them. Your father then addressed Wonwoo, ''Young man,'' he began. ''I have to tell you, you make your father very proud. He was telling me how you have a keen eye for property.'' ''He flatters me, sir'' "Good work deserves appreciation," your father said, his words carrying the weight of wisdom. "It fuels productivity and fosters competition among peers. Learn to seek what you want, my boy, and when you find it, treasure it." With a tender gesture, he kissed your mother's hand, a symbol of the appreciation he spoke of. The secret smiles exchanged between them held volumes of shared understanding. Wonwoo's father chimed in, ''I agree'' his smile echoing his agreement. Amidst these exchanges, a restlessness began to claw at Wonwoo's insides. He excused himself from the table, his fingers twitching with a subtle anxiety. He needed solace, a moment of respite, and smoke. And so he rose from his seat, excusing himself from the company and the conversation that had entrapped him.

"Would you like someone to show you the way?" Your mother's voice offered assistance, kindness colouring her words.

Politely declining the offer, Wonwoo left the room, his destination veering not towards the washroom but towards the haven of the balcony. The open air beckoned to him, a refuge to sort through the whirlwind of thoughts that spun within him.

...

The tendrils of moonlight that wrapped around you, a heavy ambience of anguish clung to your soul, reminiscent of a night shrouded in sorrow. Your feet, as if drawn by the moon's silver strings, carried you into the night, and with every breath of cool night air, you felt a weight on your chest that hadn't pressed down so heavily since the night you lost a piece of your world. As the moonlight bathed you in its ethereal glow, you found solace in its tranquil embrace, a moment of respite from the tempestuous memories that surged within you.

Two years ago

The echo of heavy footsteps reverberated through the halls of your home, carrying with them a grim aura that painted the scene as it unfolded before you. In the doorway stood police officers, their expressions etched with sombre gravity. A voice, tinged with urgency, pierced the silence as one of them addressed you.

"Do you know Noella Bulavia Hong and Joshua Hong?" The words hung like a haunting melody in the air.

"Yes," you replied, urgency tightening your voice. "She's a very close friend of mine—Noella'' Oh my Ella.

It was the dreaded moment when reality turned into a nightmare. "I am sorry to inform you, Ms. L/N," the officer's voice held the weight of crushing news, "but today at 1:30 am, there was an accident at the Bahnhofstrasse. Two cars collided, and a gas leak ignited a fire that resulted in an explosion. The occupants of both cars lost their lives."

No--- Your world spun in disbelief, and your mind was a maelstrom of chaos. Numbness spread like a winter frost, as if you were detached from the very ground beneath you. Tears flowed involuntarily, and your senses dulled as if robbed of their essence. A heart-wrenching void opened within you, an emptiness so profound that it felt like you were falling endlessly into an abyss. The weight of the night pressed upon you, suffocating your spirit.

'Noella, the girl with the most resplendent eyes,' your thoughts whispered, each memory a fragile touch that warmed your heart. Every laugh, every shared moment, is all fading into the bitter reality of the present. You have heard that when a soulmate departs, a part of oneself fades away with them. Today, you understood that agony.

Why her? Why her? What did she do to deserve this? Your thoughts spiralled into an anguished chorus. "When she finally found the love she always yearned for and the family she deserved,"

Sobs clawed at your throat, but you continued, driven by a desperate need for answers. "Officer, they had a son, Noel Hong. He's five years old; was he... He has blue eyes and

Words faltered, and incomprehensible emotions swirled within you. Officer Batch, a familiar face, placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, guiding you inside. The tea cup in your trembling hand was a lifeline, a futile attempt to find solace amidst the storm. But your thoughts slipped back to that dreaded call from Jeonghan, informing you of the accident.

"Fortunately, their son was not with them," he had said. "He was with his babysitter. Right now he is with Ms. Ashley, a child services officer. He's in the car sleeping."

Oh, Noel. Your mind groaned in anguish as you rested your head in your hands, trying to process the pain that gripped you. There was a honk outside, followed by a loud slam of the car door. A few beats later, Jeonghan rushed into the room, gathering you into a tight embrace. Sobs wracked both of you, two souls mourning the loss of the most important people in your lives.

"They're gone, JJ," you choked out, tears a torrent between you. "They're gone."

Victor, Jeonghan's partner, conversed with the officers before heading out to retrieve Noel from the car. "Where's Noel?" Jeonghan's voice trembled, brokenness painted across his face.

"Tante," a small voice roused you both. Noel's sleepy inquiry cut through the air like a blade, his innocence contrasting with the devastating truth. "Why are you crying? Where are Mama and Appa?"

Your heart shattered at the innocence that clung to his voice. You walked over to him, scooping him into your arms. Holding him tightly, you mustered a smile through your tears. "They went somewhere, little one. It's late; why don't Tante and Noel have a sleepover?"

"Without mama?" his voice trembled, mirroring your own.

"Yes," you whispered, your voice catching. "Today, it's just you and me."

You led him to your room, laying him down beneath the covers. He clung to your finger, his tiny hand a lifeline amidst the abyss of grief. In his slumber, he echoed the pain that reverberated within you. ''Tante, when will Mama and Appa come back'' for the first time in a while? You prayed for the first time in a while to know the answer to that question. ...

Descending back downstairs, the scene had changed. Officer Batch remained, as did Jeonghan and Victor. Ashley, the child services officer, stood, straightening her attire. Her condolences were heartfelt, and her sympathy was genuine. As she prepared to leave, her words lingered like a balm on your wounds.

"Firstly, I am extremely sorry for your loss."

The weight of her words hung heavy in the room. You looked around; the officer who had delivered the news had excused himself. It was now just the three of you, the grief englufing the room and the reality setting in.

Ashley's words took a practical turn, discussing procedures, cooperation, and the logistics of what lay ahead. But your thoughts drifted, images of Joshua and Noella surfacing like ghosts. You realised the danger Noel might be in—the very real threat that could have stolen him too.

"Jeonghan," you interjected, your voice calm yet resolved. "Noel's existence should remain hidden from the Bulavia family."

The room went quiet, the implication lingering in the air. ''The Bulavias are his only blood relatives,'' he cried, but you understood the darkness that lurked within their legacy. Victor's words echoed in your mind, urging you to see beyond the façade of their societal stature.

"They are murderers. Are you truly that naive to think their deaths were mere accidents?" The words tumbled from your lips, filled with an understanding forged from the past. "Come to your senses. We know what they are at the core; they may be arms manufactured for the world, but we all know—-'' you drew a deep breath, lowering your voice, '' they never cared for Noel. I am certain you can recall what happened when they learned of her pregnancy'' Jeonghan was now pacing as you sat down on the same chair as the officer Batch was once seated, recalling that horrendous sight when Joshua was beaten to pulp and Noella's brother slapped her to the ground—the horror she lived through till she came to the university. You were certain that if they got their hands on Noel, then one could only imagine the horrendous things they would do to that child. unshaken eyes and a composed voice, ''till the time I am alive, I won't let anyone touch Joshua and Noella's child''."

Jeonghan and Victor exchanged glances, their unspoken agreement cementing an unbreakable pact. A silent oath was shared among the three of you—Noel's protection was is and will be your first priority. Because every child deserves a childhood and no one will deprive him of it.

Present.

Your musings were interrupted by the persistent vibration of your phone against your dress. The moonlight cast a sombre glow, your thoughts mired in the past, and your heart still carried the weight of those memories. You glanced at the caller ID, Rema's name catching your eye.

Your phone stirred in your hand; its vibrations were a stark interruption to the calm. Your heart quickened, for her calls often held weighty matters. You answered, your voice soft yet tinged with an undercurrent of anticipation.

"Rema?"

Her voice carried a mixture of empathy and concern, her words threading a tapestry of news that would unravel your tranquilly. "Y/n, I'm sorry to disturb you, but there's a new development. A notice from the Swiss court has arrived."

Your fingers tightened around the phone, an invisible tension sweeping over you. "What is it?"

A heavy pause danced on the line, a prelude to a storm of emotions yet to come. "They're suing you, Y/N. The Bulavia family is filing a lawsuit against you, claiming that you've kept their grandson away from them."

Your breath caught, a tempest of disbelief swirling within you. Their intentions bore a weight that you couldn't ignore, and the accusation against you was an unwelcome intrusion into the sanctuary of your solitude.

"They're also alleging that you're an unstable person, unfit to care for Noel." Rema's voice carried a note of frustration, mirroring your own feelings.

The words hit you like a tidal wave, a surge of anger and desperation intertwined within your chest. The moonlight seemed to dim, the world tilting on its axis as the weight of their accusations pressed upon you.

As you processed the news, your back remained turned towards the entrance of the balcony. Little did you know that within the shadows, another presence lingered—WWonwoo, a silent observer in your moment of vulnerability.

Amidst the turmoil of emotions, your voice wavered as you spoke, your words a mix of resilience and defeat. "Rema, I... This is... it's unjust."

Her response was a reassuring echo in the night. "We won't let them tarnish your image, Y/N. I've already contacted our legal team, and the evidence is in our favour. We'll fight this with everything we have."

Your grip on the phone eased, and the connection between you and Rema felt like a lifeline in the storm. As you absorbed her words, the door leading to the balcony creaked open, but your attention was so consumed that you remained unaware of the presence that had joined you.

In the shadows, Wonwoo stood, his eyes upon your figure, his heart stirred by the depth of your emotions. Your strength and vulnerability were on display—a portrait of resilience in the face of adversity.

"We'll weather this storm together, Y/N." Rema's voice was a promise, a lifeline to hold onto in the tumultuous sea of uncertainty.

With a small nod, you replied, your voice a blend of determination and gratitude. "Thank you, Rema. I... I don't know what I'd do without you."

As the call ended, you remained standing on the balcony, seeking solace amidst the twinkling stars. The tendrils of cool air wrapped around you like a gentle embrace, a balm for the restless thoughts that stirred within. Unbeknownst to you, a presence approached, a shadow converging with your own.

A soft spark illuminated the darkness as a cigarette was lit, the warm glow revealing the figure that had joined you. Wonwoo's towering form, standing at a commanding 6 feet, casts a silent yet powerful presence. The tendrils of smoke that curled from his lips seemed like ethereal wisps of thought floating into the night.

"You're quite the enigma, aren't you?" His voice was a low rumble, a testament to the depth of his emotions.

Startled by his sudden appearance, you turned to face him, your eyes meeting the soft ember of the cigarette's tip. Your brows furrowed, and a mixture of surprise and accusation laced your voice. "Were you eavesdropping?"

He quirked an eyebrow, a hint of amusement in his gaze. "Eavesdropping would imply a certain level of secrecy. I believe the word you're looking for is 'overheard.'"

Your lips curled into a wry smile, and you crossed your arms, meeting his gaze with a mixture of defiance and curiosity. "Semantics. What's the difference?"

He took a leisurely drag of his cigarette, his eyes never leaving yours. "The difference, my dear, is that eavesdropping implies a certain degree of intentionality, while overhearing is simply a matter of being in the right place at the right time."

The banter between you was a dance of words, a subtle clash of wills that echoed in the night air. The moon above seemed to glow a little brighter, as if captivated by the exchange unfolding beneath its watchful gaze.

As the cigarette dwindled to a mere stub, his final exhale mingled with the evening breeze, a symbol of conclusion. He flicked the remains away, the glowing ember dissipating into darkness. "Well, my unintentional overhearing has come to an end. Shall we return?"

You nodded, a mix of annoyance and something else settling within you. The two of you turned to leave the balcony, making your way back to the warmth of the dining room. The moment you stepped inside, you were met with the knowing glances of your parents, their exchanged looks laden with unspoken implications.

With an inward sigh, you were about to find your seat when Wonwoo's actions surprised you. He pulled out your chair, a gesture both unexpected and oddly courteous. The corners of your lips twitched, an amused yet sceptical glint in your eyes. "I can sit down on my own, you know."

His lips curled into a faint smile, his gaze meeting yours with an air of playful challenge. "I'm aware. But isn't it polite to assist a lady?"

You rolled your eyes, unable to suppress a chuckle, despite yourself. "Chivalry isn't dead, I see."

As you settled into your seat, he took his own place across the table. The room was steeped in the echoes of your exchange, an unspoken understanding threading between you. The dance of words, the spark of banter—iit was a tapestry woven from different threads of emotion.

The clinks of silverware and hushed conversation enveloped the room once more, a symphony of togetherness and shared moments. Amidst it all, you and Wonwoo exchanged a fleeting glance, a silent acknowledgment of the dance you'd shared, a dance that had brought you both a little closer, even in the midst of your verbal jousting.

The evening had unfolded like a symphony of shared moments and whispered laughter. As the dinner drew to a close, the air held a blend of both familiarity and anticipation.

Mr. Jeon's eyes held a mixture of admiration and genuine warmth as he leaned forward, his words an echo of sincerity. "Y/N, my dear, your accomplishments are nothing short of remarkable. I sometimes wish I had a daughter like you."

A smile played upon your lips, a mixture of humility and gratitude. Beside him, Mrs. Jeon's gaze was softer yet equally sincere. "Indeed, dear, though we might not have had a daughter, there's always room in our hearts for someone as exceptional as you."

The words lingered in the air, like petals of praise carried by the wind.

And now, the time had come to bid adieu. Outside, the night awaited, and as the group made their way to the grand entrance of the mansion, the atmosphere was charged with the bittersweet awareness of departure.

A soft breeze brushed against your cheeks as you stood beside your parents. One by one, your parents exchanged pleasantries and farewells with the Jeon couple. When it was your turn, a sense of both anticipation and trepidation took hold.

Wonwoo's approach was graceful, his every step resonating with a quiet confidence. He first pressed a tender kiss upon your mother's hand, a gesture steeped in old-world charm. Then he shook your father's hand with the kind of firmness that conveyed respect.

And then, it was your turn. The air seemed to hum with charged energy as his eyes locked onto yours. The anticipation was palpable, and you felt his thumb gently trace the outline of your knuckles, a touch that sent ripples of sensation down your spine.

However, unlike how he bent to kiss your mother's hand, He raised your hand to his lips, but just as the moment seemed poised to unfold into something more profound, you made a choice. With a swift shift of your hand and a mischievous smile, you transformed the kiss into a handshake. His chuckles joined yours, a moment of shared amusement that danced like fireflies in the night.

The sound of his engine roared to life, a powerful crescendo that echoed the energy of the evening. Both cars began to glide down the drive, the mansion's gates awaiting their passage.

...

The road stretched before him, each mile carrying him further away from the evening that had etched itself deeply into his thoughts. The engine's low rumble echoed through the empty streets, a symphony of solitude that seemed to resonate with the weight on his mind.

You. The name seemed to echo in the quiet chambers of his thoughts, a refrain that he couldn't escape. Those eyes, your eyes, had held a certain fire that intrigued him, an ember of challenge that stirred his curiosity. The conversation he had unwittingly overheard in the corridor replayed in his mind like an elusive melody, each word resonating with a melody of its own.

As the penthouse came into view, its sleek lines and imposing presence a beacon in the night, he parked his car with the precision of someone accustomed to control. The lift carried him to his sanctuary, the living room, an oasis of shadows and scattered moonlight. The vast window transformed the cityscape into a tapestry of twinkling stars and luminous hues, a world outside the reach of his contemplations.

A figure graced the couch, legs crossed in a display of elegance that masked the complexity beneath. Eleanor Calder, a name that carried the weight of a past he couldn't quite shed, was a habit he yearned to break. He approached, the tension between them palpable, words unspoken yet hanging in the air like a tempest.

"Good evening, Wonwoo." Her voice was honeyed, a mixture of familiarity and ambiguity that had once ensnared him.

"Evening," he replied curtly, his gaze fixed on her as he took in her features illuminated by the faint glow. Glossy hair framed an alluring countenance, pouty lips, and eyes that held secrets of their own.

"How was the dinner?" Her question cut through the silence like a dagger, a reminder of the evening that refused to relinquish its hold.

"Fine," he replied tersely, the monosyllabic response a shield against the tides of memories.

"Is she as pretty as they say?" Eleanor's question was laden with a blend of curiosity and a hint of insecurity.

He let out a soft breath, the temptation to reveal his thoughts just shy of his lips. "Beauty is subjective," he said with a flicker of a smile.

She leaned closer, a sultry grin playing on her lips as she attempted to close the distance. "What about us, Wonwoo? Aren't we a beauty worth cherishing?"

His hand gently stopped her advance, a silent refusal that hung in the air. Her frustration surfaced, her lips trailing to his neck with a bite of aggression that carried echoes of their past.

"Why don't you like me anymore?" Her voice held a tinge of desperation, a question born from the shadows of uncertainty.

"You made your choice," he replied, his voice a mix of resignation and detachment. "Now you have to live with it."

Her retort was laced with bitterness, a blend of anger and longing. "That's never stopped you before."

The sound of shattering glass punctuated her exit, the remnants of a vase littering the ground as she left his presence. A sigh escaped him, a mixture of relief and exhaustion.

Slipping off his jacket and rolling up his sleeves, he loosened his tie and unbuckled his belt, the insignias of formality discarded as he sought solace in his sanctuary. With practised ease, he dialled Chan's number, a weary smile tugging at his lips as he heard the groggy voice on the other end.

"Late night, Chan?" he quipped, his voice tinged with amusement.

"You may think I don't have a life outside of you, but I do have a routine, you know," Chan responded with a hint of mock annoyance.

Without missing a beat, Wonwoo shifted gears. "Get the construction company under a pseudonymous name, the one we'll be using for the Oasis project, to contact me. There's something I want to discuss."

The connection remained for a moment, a silent agreement shared in the darkness. As the call ended, a wistful smile played on his lips, a plan unfolding in his mind.

The path of water droplets on glass mirrored his thoughts, his gaze fixed on the city lights that danced beyond the window. And as he moved towards the sanctuary of his private space, his mind held a singular focus that burned as brightly as the moonlight.

....

The morning embraced you with its crispness, each step propelling you forward along the winding path of the park. The rhythm of your breath is synchronised with the rhythmic beat of your heart. Amidst the rhythmic cadence of your run, your thoughts were momentarily interrupted by the chime of your phone. With a brief pause, you pulled the device from your pocket, and the voice of your assistant, Rachel, filled your ears like a familiar tune.

"Good morning, Rachel. Early morning?"

"Morning, boss. It's about the Vanguard Builders project. They're refusing to work under the current terms of the contract. They want adjustments made to accommodate our engineers, and there seems to be a lack of cooperation between the architects, engineers, and workers. It's turning into quite a mess."

The tinge of irony that life often offers "Weren't they the highest bidders for this project? Why the sudden defiance?"

"Beats me," Rachel replied with a hint of exasperation.

"By the way, who's heading the Oasis department now?" You inquired, a sense of curiosity weaving through your words.

"William Holmes," Rachel promptly answered. "Here's a fun fact about William Holmes: Jeon Wonwoo and he graduated in the same class."

The gears of thought spun in your mind, pieces of a puzzle falling into place.

"Rach," you mused, "who's the owner of Vanguard Builders?"

"Well, the acting head is Roland Thomas," she began.

"And the real owner?" you pressed further.

There was a pause before she answered, the realisation dawning on both of you simultaneously. There were a few clicks on the keyboard. "It's a subsidiary of JJ Group," Rachel replied.

"Jeon Wonwoo." You echoed the name with a mix of astonishment and determination.

"Rach, put the project on hold," you commanded, your tone unyielding yet composed. "And get in touch with his office. I need an appointment as soon as possible."

With a nod that only you could sense through the call, you concluded, "I'll see you at the office."

As you continued your run, the weight of the situation settled on you. What was it about that particular project, that particular place, that had him so resolute in its pursuit? With each stride, you felt the anticipation and tension growing, a prelude to the battle that lay ahead.

Upon returning home, you couldn't shake off the sense that this was going to be a long and intricate day.

....

In the seclusion of his office, Wonwoo perched on the corner of his desk, a solitary figure framed by the expansive window that offered a view into the bustling world beyond. His gaze was drawn downward, watching the city's heartbeat throb in the form of fast-paced cars and the hurried lives of its inhabitants. The city's rhythm was a stark contrast to the moment's stillness, his thoughts a tempest swirling in the calm.

As if sensing the weight of his contemplation, the door creaked open, and Chan, with a sprightly demeanour, stepped into the room. A subtle dance marked his steps, a rhythm of his own that added a touch of buoyancy to the space. With a cordial smile, Chan informed him about the call from your assistant.

"Sir, Ms. L/N's assistant called. They want to arrange a meeting," Chan shared, his words carrying an undertone of intrigue.

Wonwoo turned slightly, his gaze shifting from the window to rest on Chan. "What time did they suggest?"

"Anytime that's convenient for you, sir," Chan replied.

A calculating glint sparked in Wonwoo's eyes, and a faint smile touched his lips. "Tell them this. I don't want to meet her in my office. Arrange for a meeting at the restaurant in my hotel. Inform the staff there that I'll be dining with her. Confirm the details with her, of course."

The pieces of the puzzle were slowly falling into place, and Wonwoo found himself musing about the unbinding knots of destiny. As Chan nodded and left to carry out his instructions, Wonwoo's thoughts continued to wander. The game was afoot. The city continued its rhythm outside the window, and Wonwoo knew that within its cadence, a melody of possibilities was beginning to emerge.

....

A monstera plant stood sentinel by the door, a hint of nature's wildness juxtaposed against the sleek, orderly decor. An aquarium to your left provided a soothing contrast, an aquatic symphony of colours and life.

Rachael's entrance echoed with purpose, her heels punctuating the marble's silence. "Boss," she addressed, her tone threaded with urgency, "Mr. Jeon has agreed to the meeting, but not in his office. He's opted for the hotel's restaurant, Lyden."

You muttered an exasperated "son of a bitch" under your breath. Wonwoo's manoeuvring was a subtle art that kept you on your toes. The enigma surrounding his intentions was matched only by his persistence.

The thought crossed your mind—was he trying to be overly familiar, or was this merely a strategic ploy? His determination to procure the land was palpable, but his methods—oh, his methods—remained enigmatic.

Sighing, you confirmed the dinner for 7. The sooner you navigated this web, the quicker you could retreat to familiar ground. And marriage—well, that was a topic that had lost its novelty.

...

As twilight painted the canvas of the city, you found yourself within the opulent embrace of the Lyden Hotel—a sanctuary of luxury nestled in the heart of urban chaos. The clutches of your office attire remained steadfast, for the effort to change felt extraneous. Lavender notes wafted in the air, a soothing touch to your racing heart, and the art that adorned the lobby resonated with the lively atmosphere. The hotel's colour palette resonated with hues of purple and lavender, a tranquil dominance that contrasted with the usual gold and red. The gleam of lamps and chandeliers, cast in ethereal white instead of conventional gold, danced around you as an attendant, average in height and likely in his mid-40s, approached. His warm smile invited you to navigate this orchestrated rendezvous, his presence a gentle anchor to the surging tides of anticipation. But then a presence sidled up to you, and you met those dark eyes again. Wonwoo, your enigmatic companion, surveyed you with an intensity that mirrored your first encounter. A tinge of humour danced on his lips, shared only with you. He leaned in slightly, his voice laced with a jesting tone.

"You know, Ms.L/N, I've heard rumours that Swiss chocolate is so irresistible that it once convinced a diplomat to give up an entire country just for a taste."

You chuckled, playing along. "Is that so? Well, Mr. Jeon, I've also heard whispers that Swiss watches are so accurate that they can predict the future."

He raised an eyebrow in mock surprise. "Predict the future, you say? I must have missed that feature on my watch."

"It's a hidden setting, only activated when you're running fashionably late," you replied with a grin.

His laughter mingled with the ambient sounds of the restaurant, creating a melody that seemed to synchronise with the beating of your heart. "Ah, so that's the secret! I'll have to try it out sometime."

"Mr. Jeon," the manager began, addressing Wonwoo, "I apologise for the wait. And you must be Ms. L/N. Please, this way, your table is ready."

As the evening unfolded, a tapestry of conversation weaved between you. They served wine, but you abstained, aware of your responsibility on the road. Wonwoo, that audacious man, prodded you "You know, Ms.L/n, I've heard rumours about these smile police," he quipped, a playful glint in his eyes. "Apparently, they're quite strict when it comes to ensuring that everyone's lips are on an upward curve." You saw through his whimsical façade, demanding to know his true intentions.

''What is it that you truly want, Mr. Jeon?''

With a practised lean and a wry grin, he revealed his interest—your Oasis project.

You chuckled.

The weight of his intent hung in the air as he proposed a partnership, a 30-70 arrangement.

You, unperturbed, countered his proposition with grace.

''How about 40%?''His reaction was a study in composure—stillness giving way to a wry smile. He inquired ''What's the catch?'', arching an eyebrow.

The pasta found its way to your mouth, providing you with a moment's reprieve. Washing down with water, you said, "Would you like to marry me, Jeon Wonwoo?"

A few hours ago

"Rach!" you grumbled, rubbing your temples. "Rema's on line two." A quizzical look passed between you as to why she would call the office line, and then realisation dawned—you'd left your phone on the dresser, charging.

Rema's voice trickled through, laced with fatigue and worry. As she detailed the developments, a storm brewed within you. The lawsuit, the custody battle—the magnitude of it all pressed against your chest.

"They're claiming your lifestyle is unstable," Rema informed, her voice tinged with sympathy.

You scoffed. "Define unstable."

"Frequent moving, long absences, and—well, they highlighted the lack of a husband."

"Bullshit," you spat. "I don't recall the law stating that a single woman can't adopt her ward, bestowed upon her by the child's parents."

Rema's understanding tone resonated with the receiver. "I know, Y/n."

The conversation pivoted to the notion of marriage, and your disbelief was palpable. "So, I should get hitched just for a legal battle? That's absurd."

"Y/N, I'm your lawyer," Rema asserted, her voice unwavering. "I can't suggest illegal activities. But I can ponder the 'what ifs.'"

Your mind whirred, emotions settling into resolution. Closing every avenue that the Bulavia family sought to exploit. Even if it means Jeon Wonwoo,

Present

His reaction was a symphony of amusement,his eyes glinting with intrigue. He leaned back, beckoning you to elaborate.

"I don't like owing anyone," you began. "It seems I'm in a bit of a predicament. I find myself in need of a husband. If you agree—"

A grin played on his lips as he interjected, "So, when do you want to get married?"

You spluttered, momentarily caught off-guard. He was swift in his response, crafting a clever solution out of thin air. "You said you wanted a husband, and there's pressure on me to find a wife. Killing two birds with one stone" He shrugged and said, "Do enlighten me, Ms. L/N. I'm curious to hear about these circumstances that demand such a drastic solution." and you did. ...

In the car, As you drove Wonwoo to his place, the air was laden with silence, your thoughts whispering secrets only the wind could hear. The plans for Noel, your mutual benefit—it all tumbled through your mind. The contract, the call, and your parents

"Are you always this persuadable?" you inquired, your words filling the silent car.

"Only when it involves a beautiful lady in distress," he retorted, causing you to roll your eyes.

As you navigated through the city streets once again, you spoke of Noel, his significance, and the impending legalities. Wonwoo remained thoughtful, his demeanour subdued. With his apartment in sight, his voice resounded, seeking answers.

"So, he's not your son?" he queried, a sliver of vulnerability seeping into his tone.

"No," you affirmed. "Your informant was not as efficient as it seems, but he's like a son to me."

His curiosity blossomed further. "Do your parents know about it?"

You chuckled. "About what?"

"About Noel," he reiterated.

"No," you confessed, "they believe he was with Noella and Joshua that night, as they couldn't attend the funeral."

He nodded in understanding, his thoughts churning in the silence. . As he watched your car fade into the distance, a sense of purpose filled him. The evening's discussions had ignited a fire of determination within him. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, dialling his mother's number.

As the line rang, his thoughts swirled like the city lights below. The memories of his grandmother, a regal and wise woman, were as vivid as ever. She had worn a unique ring—a family heirloom—that he had admired since childhood. He could still hear her stories, her voice rich with history and love.

The call connected, and his mother's warm voice flowed through the line. "Wonwoo, dear, how are you?"

He smiled, her voice a comforting balm. "I'm well, Mama. I was actually calling to ask Do you know where Grandma's ring is"?

tbc

A/N: Phew! its was a long chapter, hope you all liked it. Please drop your feedback in the comments or reblogs with tag or in the inbox as it motivates me and help makes the fic better.

msh

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