#american horror story

[fear-is-truth]

𝑰𝑳𝑳𝑰𝑪𝑰𝑻 𝑨𝑭𝑭𝑨𝑰𝑹𝑺 ── stan bowes x secretary!reader

 𝝑𝑒 | 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒: f!reader. infidelity. mentions of sex. angst

never watched the show so… excuse the shitty writing

⟢ your first mistake was letting his smile occupy your thoughts. it all started with that smile of his, that goddamn smile was the catalyst for everything that followed. at first, it was just small things—the way his fingers lingered a beat too long, the way his gaze seemed to burn into yours, even when he should have been looking at the papers you’d handed him. you told yourself it was nothing, just a trick of the light or a figment of your imagination and wishful thinking. an unrequited crush on your boss, that was all it was.

then there was your birthday. you’d only joined Trump Tower a few weeks before, and Stan was the only one who wished you a happy birthday. he must have seen the reminder on Facebook, so you never gave it a second thought. but when you saw the bouquet of flowers on your desk, your heart soared. the card attached simply read, “happy birthday. hope it’s as special as you are — Stan.” a small gesture, but it felt oddly intimate, like a shared secret between the both of you. for a split second, you allowed yourself to indulge in the possibility that maybe, just maybe the flowers meant something more. you quickly banished that thought out of your mind. after all, Stan was a married man; a husband and father of two. boundaries not to be crossed, best to avoid.

⟢ your second mistake was attending that dinner party with him. it was a company event, one of those mandatory gatherings meant to foster camaraderie. when Stan approached you and casually mentioned his wife was busy with the kids, you found yourself agreeing to go with him as a “friend,” not his secretary. the night was a montage of laughter, pleasantries and clinking glasses. you sat next to each other at the table, too close, his hand brushing against your thigh more times than you could count—accidental, you told yourself.

but then, when someone mistook you for Stan’s girlfriend, you were bewildered; stood frozen like a deer in headlights and waited for your boss to correct them. but for some reason, he didn’t. instead, Stan just smiled and let the assumption hang in the air. the small, collusive smirk he sent your way was enough to make your heart go into overdrive. as if the two of you were playing pretend, not “mummy and daddy” but “girlfriend and boyfriend”. okay, you were more than happy to indulge in this fantasy world.

by the end of the night, both of you were wasted. sharing a cab back to your apartment felt natural, the most obvious choice. city lights blurred through the window, casting dark shadows on his features as he sat beside you. too close, but you weren’t complaining. when the car stopped outside your apartment, you hesitated, for a split second too long. one moment you were saying goodbye, the next his lips were on yours—soft. desperate, as if he couldn’t bear the idea of letting you go. this was the moment you’d been guiltily fantasising about. but reality shattered the illusion as swiftly as it had formed: this was someone else’s husband that you were kissing.

“sorry- i, i can’t.”

you fumbled with the door handle and stumbled out of the cab, almost tripping on the curb. cold air hit you like a splash of icy water, sobering you up just enough to realise your actions. you turned to see Stan watching you, his expression unreadable—shame? desire? regret? you weren’t quite sure. without a word, he shut the door and the cab pulled away. the taste of the kiss still burned on your lips as you watched the taillights disappear into the night.

⟢ your third mistake was letting that kiss linger in your mind, festering until it turned into something dangerous; the sapling that grew the apple of temptation. the following weeks were painful, the interactions between the two of you were a minefield of awkward glances and stilted conversations. one day, Stan asked to speak with you in his office. the door closed behind you, and he apologised for that night. told you that he had never meant to complicate things, that he valued you too much to let one mistake ruin everything. you nodded, trying to find the right words, and before you knew it, you were in his arms again, his lips on yours. it was wrong but it felt so right. a fucking cliché, but that was the only way to describe that kiss.

and then it finally happened—the ultimate unforgivable. clothes were hastily discarded, fumbling hands and guilty moans. afterward, you both dressed in silence, the office room reeking of sex, sweat and sin. it should have felt amazing, like the culmination of all those stolen glances and lingering stares. but it didn’t. not even close. it was hurried, guilt-ridden, made you feel tainted and filthy, as it should.

dirty girl, look what you’ve done. you’re a homewrecker now, you fucking slut.

your final decision was to leave it all behind. the shame, the remorse, every mistake you made in that gilded cage of an office. you handed in your resignation without fanfare, your letter brief and to the point. you packed your belongings in a quiet corner of the day, avoiding any lingering goodbyes or prying eyes. you missed him, thought about him every day. but you also knew it was necessary. for the sake of your own sanity, for both of you.

seven months later, life had started to regain some semblance of normalcy. as you juggled bags of groceries down the bustling streets, your mind wandered to what you might cook for dinner that night. maybe pasta, you thought, or perhaps a stir-fry. suddenly, you collided with someone, and your bags of groceries spilled onto the pavement. the stranger who had bumped into you didn’t even look back, disappearing into the sea of people. annoyed, you knelt down to gather your scattered items, cursing under your breath.

just as you reached for a bright red apple that had rolled away, another hand beat you to it. your gaze followed the arm to its owner, and your heart almost stopped in your chest. it was your former boss, but something was different—his left hand was conspicuously bare, no longer adorned with a wedding ring.

for a beat, you simply stared at each other. time seeming to stretch out into eternity. there was a flicker of something familiar in his eyes, the same intense emotion that had been in his gaze when he kissed you. Stan held out the apple, and you took it, your fingers brushing against his. he smiled. you smiled back.

probably will never watch this show bc i’m too busy rewatching cult and i don’t like stan bowes. i tolerate him because of evan lol

TAGLIST— @evanpetersmybf @alittlesil @kaiandersonsdevotedwife @ellaaaaa44 @newwavesylviaplath @warrenlipkaswife @slvt4jamesmarch @kaismanwich @maddaline @evpeters87 @howtobesasha @lissasharp @feefymo @arabella-da-doll @bluerthanvelvet444 @r8ttenapples @kai-slut @comababy-67h @doll3tt33 @taintandviolent @violet1737 @sukirosiac @slutforgarlogan @k31sley @violet-harmon2011 @luuuuucyscorner @starry-eyed-wild-child @viscerati @evanpeterspeter @dangeroustaintedflawed @evanpetersbf @joshlmbrt @ggenyxxo @xxfolkloresxx

 fear-is-truth 2024 — all rights reserved. do not modify, repost, translate, or plagiarise my content.

[vi4hs]

ignore the awkward posing ❤︎ ྀིྀ

[violetvharmon]

[tatelangdonsgirl]

-ˏˋ CAN'T SPELL "TATE" W/O "ATE"' ˊˎ-

AHHGUBHJVGCFYG HES. SO. FINE TF.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

[ghostlyvioletharmon]

violet :)

[violetharmonscigs]

[evanpetersbf]

when I zone out, this is where I go..

(his lap 🎀)

[stayevildarling]

Hey! I am really enjoying reading all of the works you have been posting lately, you are such a great writer! I actually had a request if you happen to have the time? Maybe a fic with Delia, Mina, Billie, and reader where Delia uses magic on reader and accidentally hurts her in the process. Then maybe some angst between Mina and Delia because Mina is very overprotective and Billie tries to deescalate their argument? But also happy ending? 

Cordelia Goode x Wilhemina Venable x Billie Dean Howard x Reader- As the gods will

A/N: I completely forgot this in my drafts 😅 it's a bit of a short one but I didn't want to drag it on

word count: 3.3k

tw: mention of smoking, mention of blood (mild), angst, arguing, fluff at the end

taglist:

@lunaticwhittaker, @billiebeanhoward, @lanawinters-ily, @kenzbro, @minaslittleone, @httpfiftyshadesofgay, @whitelotus00, @ninaahs, @vintagepaulson, @isle-of-earle, @paulsonsratched, @stepintomyworld, @grilledcheeseandguavajelly, @lucyintheskywithxanax, @fanfics4world, @mymiraclewitch, @hazard-to-myself, @awritersometime, @ohrwurm26, @wastdstime

As Billie Dean returns home, she feels a buzz of excitement rush through her, finally at home after a long week of working, filming the last bits, mostly promotion for the upcoming season of her show. With the upcoming weekend, she had decided to treat her girlfriends to a little something, opting for a quick shopping spree after work, managing to pick just the right things for the three of you. And as the front door closes, she notices how oddly quiet it was, of course it being Friday meant most of the witches had left but she is surprised to find neither of you downstairs as she brushes past the kitchen and the living room.

,,What the hell have you done?'' Wilhemina's voice rings through the air, so loud that the medium could hear it from downstairs. Abandoning the shopping bags and kicking off her heels, she is quick to run up the stairs, with a sense of urgency, before finding a very unusually quiet and guilty Madison in front of Cordelia's office. ,,What is it?'' Billie asks nervously but quickly leaving the blonde behind, figuring she wasn't going to get any answers out of her.

What Billie Dean had missed was a very busy and uncomfortable Friday, some of the younger teenage witches testing Cordelia in a lot of ways, especially Madison on her nerves all day, teasing her and pushing her buttons. She had been that stressed and tense with her workload that she had even asked you to keep her company. Cordelia enjoyed nothing more than have you close but whenever things got a little hard and stressful she retreated to her office, dealing with it in silence, before calming herself down enough to join you three again and spend time with you. However, today she didn't feel like being alone and so she had asked if you minded sitting in her office as it was your day off and of course you didn't mind, happy to keep her company.

And despite there not being a whole lot you could do, other than regularly make her some tea, offer to make her some lunch a while ago or occasionally walking over and giving her shoulders some relief, as your hands gently massaged her, ridding her off the tension slowly. Nevertheless, your girlfriend appreciated it, appreciating to have her little sunshine close as you gave her the motivation to finish the few tasks she had left on her agenda for the day. A while ago you had made Cordelia and Wilhemina some lunch, taking it to Mina's office as she thanked you with a sweet gentle kiss, telling you she was almost finished for the day, before returning to the supreme's office, where she took a break with you, offering you to sit on her lap as she fed some of the lunch to you, her eyes sparkling with love and adoration, the tension almost gone.

When the door opened without knocking a while later, watching Madison enter so carelessly, you knew this would escalate things further. Cordelia and Madison had an odd connection, the younger witch often pushing the supremes buttons, but despite it all you could tell that your girlfriend cared about her wellbeing deeply and you also noticed how in times of trouble for the coven, Madison always stuck to Cordelia and the academy, despite only being loyal to herself usually. You swallowed hard, seeing how she walked inside with a cigarette hanging from her mouth, knowing Cordelia strictly forbid smoking inside after Fiona. And it surprised you when Cordelia didn't even look up from her laptop, simply continuing to type away and roll her eyes, quite aware who was interrupting the peace and quiet.

,,Alright I'm off to that party, so the four of you can have this place all to yourselves'' she muttered, almost nosily inspecting the supremes office, barely acknowledging your existence. ,,Give me a break Madison'' was all that Cordelia had said before waving her hand a little with the pure intention of making Madison shut up and leave her office. However, Madison knew better and so she quickly dodged the magic, and as the invisible force looked for the next life-form in the room, her magic had made you flying to the nearest wall behind you, causing for a loud thud to follow. And the thud was so loud that even Wilhemina had heard it, considering that same wall was connected to her office. And with furrowed eyebrows, she decided to investigate, wondering what the supreme and you were getting up to in there, her heels echoing through the academy ever so quietly.

And when she caught a glimpse of Madison, lingering by the door, a guilty expression on her face, she entered, watching as Cordelia typed away on her computer, thinking that all was well for a moment before noticing your frame on the floor and her eyebrows furrowed then before her voice rings through the air ,,What the hell have you done?''. Cordelia finally looks up, seeing Madison lingering by the doorway behind the redhead before her eyes travel to you in shock. She is quick on her feet, abandoning her work and kneeling beside you. ,,Oh my god'' Cordelia exclaims before taking your head into her hands as some blood pours from the back of your head, assuming that must have been from the impact. In panic and shock she meets Wilhemina's eyes, begging for her help and forgiveness at the same time.

,,Little one?'' Wilhemina tries gently but the pain is so severe that your eyes remain closed, despite aware of your surroundings and what had happened. With hands as quick as light, she hovers them over your head as you laid on the floor with your stomach, only your backside faced to them. And as Billie finally enters, watching the scene unfold in front of her, Cordelia already has the wound healed as the blood and any evidence of it completely vanishes. And finally you manage to open your eyes, composing yourself and trying to get up, still feeling a little shaky on the legs. However as you do, you notice a strange sensation, the inability to speak and looking at your girlfriends, you see the shock in their features. Cordelia's intention wasn't only to send Madison across the room but also to be quiet and so she had casted a spell which would assure just that.

However, as the magic travelled to you, Wilhemina and Billie watch in shock as their most precious thing is missing a very important feature, your mouth. ,,Cordelia what on earth?!'' Wilhemina's voice rings through the air again as crippling panic sets in on the supremes features as she begins pacing around the room after failing to rid you from the spell, her nerves playing up and causing her magic to get a little sloppy. Despite being the most powerful witch and supreme, this could happen, despite being rare. The blonde loved you three so much that the thought of seeing either of you hurt almost killed her, let alone when she was the reason for just that, despite that not in the slightest being her intention.

Unaware of what exactly is happening, panic equally kicks in as your eyes widen, pathetic sounds getting blocked in your throat as they had no way to leave you. As Billie walks closer, noticing your beginning panic, she tries to hold onto your hands, noticing how warm they are as your chest rises and falls quickly as you begin hyperventilating. ,,Cordelia fix this now'' Wilhemina demands, her voice raised, her overprotectiveness setting in as she couldn't stand to see you hurting. ,,I can't.. I've tried'' the supreme huffs as she continues pacing, trying to calm herself down in order to make this go away. Billie noticing the tension, leaves you for a moment, before walking over to Cordelia, placing her soft manicured hands on the supremes cheeks. ,,Calm down love'' she tries, ushering the supreme to follow her breathing. ,,That's it'' she praises before her eyes begin pleading with her.

,,What is this spell called darling?'' the medium tries gently, before Cordelia closes her eyes, slowly feeling calmer. ,,Perpetuum clausis'' she breathes out, still trying to focus to keep calm, not once looking at you as she couldn't stand the sight. ,,Okay honey, you can reverse it?'' Billie questions, very much hoping she could fix it considering she loved the things your pretty little mouth could do. ,,Yes'' Cordelia nods, closing her eyes before flicking her wrist. A painful mixture of an exhale, inhale and scream follows as it all returns to normal. Wilhemina moves even closer to you, taking your shaking hand into her own, her heart beating angrily against her chest. ,,Are you okay little one?'' she asks, ignoring the presence of the other two. Her main concern your wellbeing and safety right now. And all you can do is nod as your throat feels like it is on fire, your head still pounding in pain, still feeling as if you couldn't use your mouth for anything but breathing.

,,Sweetheart, I'm so so sorry'' Cordelia tries, finally walking over to you and trying to pull you into her arms. But she is stopped by Wilhemina who protectively hovers, placing herself in front of you and physically stopping the supreme. ,,Don't'' she hisses, her eyes and words filled with venom as Billie anxiously watches the scene unfold. ,,Don't touch her'' she carries on and you can't do or say anything as your body feels on fire. ,,Come on'' Wilhemina ushers, taking your hand and leading you out of the room, leaving behind a heartbroken and guilty Cordelia.

It doesn't take long before the tears stream from her beautiful features, Billie frowning seeing her girlfriend like this. ,,Sit down honey'' the medium tries, taking a seat on the sofa next to Cordelia and taking the supremes hands into her own. ,,What happened?'' the blonde asks confused, still not fully understanding what had happened and hoping the supreme would fill her in so she could fix this and help. It takes a while for Cordelia to find her composure again, but seeing Billie so compassionate, she eventually calms down. ,,I had no intention of hurting her'' she begins wanting to make sure that much is clear. ,,I know darling'' Billie coos as she tilts her head a little. ,,It was Madison..'' Cordelia sighs, remembering how the witch had tested her most of the day. ,,I wasn't even trying to use my magic on Madison, I just wanted her to shut up and leave us alone'' she explains trying to recall the events.

,,I guess when I tried to dismiss her with my hand it must have triggered my magic'' she carries on, the words now flowing freely without holding back. ,,And I'm assuming Madison dodged it and it hit..it..'' but she doesn't get to finish as tears return and Billie is quick to wipe them, understanding now what unfolded. ,,Come here'' the medium ushers and Cordelia hesitates, feeling stupid for being coddled after causing you pain, thinking about how you deserved this more as of right now and how she wanted to do nothing more than hold you like this. But she gives in as Billie pulls her forward and into her arms.

Meanwhile, Wilhemina had taken you to her office, ushering you to sit, the door banging shut in the process, as she takes in your features. You seem utterly calm given the circumstances but the redhead worried with how quiet you had been. ,,Are you okay?'' she asks, while walking away for a moment to fetch you some water. All you can do is nod, unable to talk as it still feels like the word are caught in your throat. But obviously she couldn't see your nodding and as she returns she simply looks at you, her eyebrows furrowing before asking again ,,Little one, are you okay?'' her voice now a little firmer as she hands you the water, worry washing over her. And when you nod again, she scans you a little further, and by the way she stares at the water you can tell she wants you to drink some and so pathetically you try with shaky hands but it all comes straight back up as you choke on it, your throat burning.

Wilhemina watches in shock and a sense of horror, not remotely understanding what was going on and how Cordelia's magic may have caused some serious harm and damage. ,,Can you talk?'' she tries again, trying to search your eyes. And all you can do is shake your head, scanning the room before standing up, finding a piece of paper and a pen on her desk. You look at her for permission and she nods before you write down ,,It hurts''. And as her eyes read over the words, she sighs heavily. ,,Okay little one, how about we get you some rest?'' she offers and you simply nod as she offers to take you to bed but you shake your head, your eyes wandering to her armchair and if you could speak, you would have told her how you didn't want to be alone, how you wanted to stay with her as everything was scary right now and the only safe thing was her. She nods despite not understanding and watches as you curl up in a ball on her purple armchair. All she can do is watch in sorrow before walking over, placing a blanket gently over your shaking body and when your eyes close, she opts to sit by her desk, near enough to be able to see you and keep an eye on you.

As the redhead silently sits and watches, her thoughts go back to what had happened, knowing deep down that Cordelia would and could never cause you any harm intentionally. She judges the way the supreme must have miscalculated her steps, Wilhemina perceptive and smart enough to figure out that it was aimed at Madison, that witch clever enough to dodge it. And a small part of her knows that it was probably due to how agitated Cordelia was today and how Madison must have provoked her and how the supreme probably didn't even want to use magic but it probably came natural, as she knows Cordelia wouldn't use that sort of magic, especially not when you are nearby. But she can't help and feel anger nevertheless, seeing you still shaking on her chair, only a small part of her able to understand how painful this must be. The redhead would die in a heartbeat if it meant protecting either of you three but there was always something about you, maybe the fact that you are younger than her and maybe she wanted to protect you from it all, often unsure whether being around the witches especially the younger witches was smart as they certainly got up to things that Wilhemina wouldn't approve of.

And while fighting her internal battle, a part of her wanting to forgive Cordelia and simply take care of you, the door knocks as Billie had suggested checking on you both and Cordelia hesitantly agreeing, knowing that there was going to be a raging storm as soon as Wilhemina's eyes would meet hers. But she needed to check on you, to see that you are okay, that this didn't traumatise you, that this didn't make you scared of her. Wilhemina simply watches as the door opens, Billie's head poking around it, frowning as she sees you curled up so comfortably. She enters after Wilhemina nods, giving her permission to do so but her eyes draw away from the door as soon as she sees her other blonde girlfriend walk in, her features filled with guilt and regret and cheeks stained with previous tears shed. ,,Is she okay?'' Billie asks a little nervously, kneeling in front of you.

,,No'' is all Wilhemina can say as she holds the note to the medium, who hastily takes it, her eyebrows furrowing in confusion as she looks at the supreme, who simply stands frozen a few steps away from them. ,,She can't speak still?'' Billie Dean asks and Wilhemina simply nods avoiding Cordelia's pleading eyes. ,,Cordelia, is that normal?'' the medium asks anxiously, placing her hand on your cheek and stroking it gently. The supreme doesn't hesitate before speaking ,,Unfortunately yes, it may take a while for the pain to go''. The admission is so painful that it brings tears to her eyes again, unable to believe she had caused you pain. Billie is quick to get lost in her own world a little, all she can sense as of right now, you and her as she gets lost looking at her adorable babydoll, watching over you protectively, making sure your breathing is normal.

Meanwhile, Cordelia kneels in front of Wilhemina, trying to get her to actually look at her but the redhead is having a hard time. ,,Mina darling, please let me explain'' she practically begs but the redhead is having a hard time as her stubbornness had reached it's peak point, her walls built up high, threatening to lose herself in a battle of protectiveness over you. ,,I didn't mean to hurt her Mina'' Cordelia tries again, her voice gentle as her hands rest on Wilhemina's knees, trying to ground them both. ,,Don't you think I know that?'' the redhead suddenly hisses as her emotions get ahold of her and something within her snaps. ,,How could you have been so careless around her, you should know better'' Wilhemina carries on, her statement causing for a sharp pain to burden Cordelia's heart.

,,I know, I know'' the supreme admits, tears welling up in her eyes, before she takes a deep breath. ,,I wasn't trying to use my magic, on either of them, I wouldn't have done that to Madison either, despite her having it coming'' she explains, more to herself than the redhead as she had given up hope of her girlfriend forgiving her anytime soon for this. But then something within Wilhemina softens up, maybe the confirmation that Cordelia's magic just took over, maybe the genuine forgiveness in her voice or maybe just the love Wilhemina has for this woman and you two. The thought crosses her mind how if the redhead was a witch, she would send people flying across rooms all the time, whether that being intentional or not. And so, Cordelia suddenly feels a gentle squeeze on her hand that still rests on her girlfriends knee. And as she looks up, she sees forgiveness in the redheads eyes through her teary vision and it causes her to choke on a sob. ,,I'm so sorry'' she repeats, the crashing weight of guilt slowly dropping from her shoulders.

,,De...Delia'' a very quiet broken whisper fills the room and three heads instantly snap in your direction as you had woken from the broken nap. ,,Sweetie'' Cordelia coos, instantly on her feet and walking over to you. Sleep had certainly helped as the pain from your head was mostly gone, your throat feeling less on fire and the ability to talk finally returning. ,,Are you okay? what hurts sweetie?'' the blonde asks, her voice tinged with concern and worry over you. ,,I'm okay Delia, promise'' you assure, some words still coming out broken but much better than before. ,,I'm so sorry sweetheart'' she cries now, but you are quick to sit up a little and wipe her tears.

Billie's eyes travel towards Wilhemina as they watch the scene unfold, both feeling relieved and a little at ease to have you talking again. And slowly the tension fades with each passing minute, the academy silent as you manage to shush Delia's quiet sobs and wipe her tears. ,,Well I'm certainly glad we fixed that, considering what that pretty mouth of yours can do honey'' Billie jokes, causing the four of you to giggle, even Wilhemina's low chuckle ringing through the air.

[etheral-moon]

[newwavesylviaplath]

happy birthday @taintandviolent !! (even though i'm a little late)

(remember when i said id make a moodboard for all my mutuals birthdays? bet u thought i forgot about that huh...)

[mistydear]

soften me now, let me take as is given (xviii)

billie dean howard x reader summary: You meet Billie in mourning. She's too professional, and you're too angry, and it takes too long to see her again. And again. And again as your lives tumble together. w/c: 2.9k taglist: unsure! let me know if you're still interested chapter one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen notes: hi! i've actually had this chapter and most of the next chapter written for a long time and never posted them. not sure why, but i'm going to get 19 posted in a couple days just because i can and should. can't make any promises, but this story lives in my head still. so i want to finish it. to whoever reads this, thank you! and i hope you enjoy :) warnings: discussion of cancer

The last few weeks, Billie thinks, have been oversaturated with you. Like a movie screen with the vibrancy up so high it hurts her eyes, makes her dream in colors that don’t exist. It’s terrible. And Billie just can’t stop, doesn’t have the willpower to grab onto something steady, something real to stop the spinning. She’s sick with you, absolutely run down and overwhelmed by your warmth and gratitude and patience and humor. God, you can make her laugh. Harder than she has in years. It scares her half to death sometimes when she looks at you and wonders. Not just about brushing your hair back for you or sliding a hand tight around your waist or kissing your soft, lovely lips. But about waking up next to you, getting to see you bathed in a soft morning light, knowing how you take your coffee and making it for you every morning. Billie finds herself wanting something much softer and more tender with you than she’s allowed herself to have in a long time. She wants to love you. 

The last time she took you out to dinner, it was at some swanky bistro in West Hollywood. And as soon as you noticed that they didn’t post the prices on the menu, you blushed and set it down. 

“Billie, I can’t afford this,” you admit with considerable difficulty and humiliation, your cheeks tinging red in the candlelight. Billie forces down a blissful, hazy grin and reaches over, covering your hand with hers. 

“Darling, I’m taking you out to dinner. I don’t expect you to pay.” Your cheeks flush darker at the term of endearment, and you swallow, pulling your hand away and down into your lap. 

“This is too much,” you breathe, and Billie’s eyes search yours, her smile flickering and fading, trying to hide her panic. 

“Did I overstep?” She’s been worried, endlessly it seems, about stepping too carelessly into romance and getting burned, about making it awkward and uncomfortable. Billie doesn’t think she could stand that, not with you. They’ve worked too hard to be friends to then get lost in some terrible unrequited crush. Fiddling with your napkin, your jaw tightens momentarily before you look back at Billie. 

“No, you’re not…” you take a breath. “You’re not overstepping. I’m just not used to being paid for. I don’t want to owe you anything.” 

“You could never,” Billie says, brow furrowed because the idea itself is ridiculous. It takes a minute for you to accept that, but as soon as Billie sees it on your face, she smiles, soft and easy. “Unfortunately, I’m rather fond of you. It’s what I do for people I like.” 

“Buy them things?” you ask, a hint of amusement creeping in. Billie chuckles, resting her elbow on the table, her chin on her knuckles. 

“Spoil them,” she allows herself to say, eyes sparkling in the low, warm light. Your eyes lock with hers in surprise, and then you swallow. 

“You are not the same Billie Dean Howard I met on my front porch,” you say with a shake of your head. “I feel like I’m constantly uncovering a little bit more of you.” Your voice begs a question Billie isn’t sure how to answer. She feels like any explanation might give too much away. She helped you when you were nothing but cruel to her. She bought your house. She was so patient with you, and you with her. And now you’re here, and she’s spoiling you the way she does with the people who steal her affections. Billie swallows, resting her hands back in her lap. 

“I’m sorry it’s taken so long. I’m not an easy person to get to know.” 

“Please don’t apologize,” you chuckle, shifting forward. “I promise you I understand. Besides, it’s kinda exciting.” 

“Exciting?” Billie drones, looking at you over her lashes. 

“Yes” you laugh. “I’m never bored.” Billie huffs out a laugh and rolls her eyes. 

“I’m glad I’m so entertaining for you.” You grin, biting your lip, and your eyes are shining in the candlelight, and Billie wants to kiss you. 

Later in the night, after Billie steals the check from you before you can look at it and you’re walking to your cars arm in arm, you lean your head on her shoulder. Billie stiffens. 

“Maybe next time, we can start talking about the really deep stuff. Like your favorite color.” Billie lets herself grin, chest tight, and rests her cheek against your head. 

“It’s taupe,” she mumbles, and your head shoots up from her shoulder, horrified and disbelieving. 

“You’re kidding.” 

“Yes, I’m kidding,” she chuckles, and you press a hand to your heart in relief. “It’s green.” 

“Green,” you echo, resting your head back down, your steps falling in line.

“Like spanish moss,” Billie offers, and you hum. 

“That’s oddly specific.” 

“There’s not much that I miss about my childhood,” Billie breathes. “But climbing all the big oak trees and watching the spanish moss sway in the breeze was…” You lift your head, turning to watch Billie’s furrowed brow and faraway eyes. “It was a nice escape.” 

“Escape from what?” you ask quietly, and Billie swallows, giving you a brief, tight smile. You give her one back, but it’s sadder, more careful, and then you’re leaning in, squeezing Billie’s arm, your thumb across her bicep. It’s a little thing, a small comfort, but it means the world to her. And she’s afraid to look up at you. Afraid she might kiss you. 

“Thank you for coming to dinner with me,” she says, mustering the restraint to meet your eyes. Your arm tightens in Billie’s, and you’re smiling. 

“Thank you for agreeing to come to Norah’s birthday party.” Billie exhales the tightness in her chest. “It’s this Saturday. Don’t forget.” 

“I wouldn’t miss it,” she says, and it’s the truth. An opportunity to see you in any context was something she couldn’t ever pass up. Then you pull her into a hug, tight and warm, and Billie closes her eyes against you, fingers splayed across your back. “Goodnight, Y/N.” 

“Night, Billie.” 

. . . 

Billie’s curled up on her couch the night before Norah’s party in satin pajamas. There’s a steaming cup of tea on her end table and a book nestled in her lap. She’s startled by the sound of her phone ringing but even more startled to see who’s calling. With a deep, settling breath, she dog ears her book and sets it down next to her tea. 

“Hi dad,” she breathes. 

“Good to hear your voice, honey bunches,” he says, that southern twang drawn and tired. She checks the time. South Carolina is four hours ahead of Los Angeles which would make it two in the morning there. Something surges up within her, choked and panicky. 

“What happened?” He lets out a strained chuckle, and she can picture him scrubbing his fingers across his scruffy jaw. 

“Y’know how your mama’s had that cough.”

“No,” Billie shoots back. “I didn’t know.” Her father hums. 

“Musta been Jamie I was talkin’ to then,” he offers. “Your brother actually calls home to check in every once an’a while.” 

“Dad,” Billie groans, pressing her fingers into her temple. “Please just tell me what happened.” 

“She started up that coughing. Couldn’t catch her breath. I pat her back, gave her water,” he sighs, pausing. “There was blood in it, Billie. Curlin’ down like smoke. An’ she just looks up at me with a face I ain’t seen since you up and left. Resigned and so hard. Then she swallows and licks those lips and says, James, get my coat.” The silence on the line is deafening, and Billie numbly registers her ears ringing. “So here we are, Hoffman-Strauss Memorial.”

Billie’s throat is thick, and she blinks once then twice, chest tight. 

“Okay.” Her voice is hoarse. She swallows. “Have you seen a doctor yet?” 

“Just a room. Your mama’s sleepin’. She’s scheduled for a CT at 8.” 

“And Jamie knows?” He hums. 

“She’s too proud to say it, but she wants you to call her.” Billie scoffs, holding her hand over her eyes as she shakes her head.

“The only thing she wants to hear from me is that I’m leaving Hollywood,” she says, suddenly so weary. 

“Set it aside, Billie Dean. Just for a minute,” he tells her, harder this time, with less give. Her shoulders deflate, and she swallows, looking down into her lap. “I love you.” 

“Love you, dad.” When she hangs up, the world feels like it’s tilted on its axis. The last time she spoke to her mother, Billie’s face had been in the tabloids, her name spoken like a disgraced Hollywood starlet. Out of all the things her mother’s ever said to her, that phone call was relatively tame. It was expected, usual. The guilt, the shaming, the moral superiority. And now she’s coughing blood. Some might call that divine intervention. Absently, Billie laughs. It’s a weak chuckle, but it grows. And as it does, Billie’s chest seizes up. She laughs and laughs, but there’s a growing pit in her chest, and she’s starting to feel hysterical. She just can’t stop. And then the laughter turns gasping, and she can’t breathe. And my god, the hardest woman in America is coughing blood. She is a human being. Delicate and fallible. 

Billie presses her palms into her eyes. “Fuck. Fuck.” 

She remembers pressing a wet cloth to the back of your neck when you broke down over Kate, and Billie tries to treat herself with the same patience, the same kindness. What do you need right now? Slowly, she forces her breathing to slow, shuts out everything but the in and out of her breath and the occasional flash of your smile in her mind’s eye, your gentle hands on her arms. Jamie. She hasn’t spoken to him since his birthday. He reminds her too much of her childhood, so she tries to stay away. Not tonight. Her heart is pounding when she presses call, and she feels lightheaded, but she forces herself to stay on the line as it rings. 

“Dad called you too, huh?” he asks when the phone connects, and immediately her breathing evens and slows. 

“Yeah,” she says quietly as the world stops spinning around her. 

“Takes a lot for you to reach out. The news must’ve rattled you.” 

“I’m fine,” she says immediately, rubbing circles in her chest. He scoffs, and she closes her eyes. He hasn’t lost his accent, but it’s weaker now, stilted. Though his voice hasn’t changed, that richness, that unwavering steadiness is still there. 

“Alright. Goodnight, then.” 

“Wait,” Billie starts, and she hears him settle and exhale. “I’m sorry. I just don’t know…” she scoffs and shakes her head. 

“I know,” he says, low and even. There’s a thick silence between them, and Billie remembers his hair, brown and unruly. She always used to ruffle it. She wonders how he styles it now. Is it shorter? How does his wife like it? Does she like that scruff he refuses to shave? Or does he shave it now? They’re little things, she knows, inconsequential really. But it’s the missing she can’t let go of now. The disconnect. 

“How are you?” she asks finally, and he chuckles. 

“I’m alright. Business is tightening with the economy, but we’re fine. Addison’s still with her firm. Could be making partner next year.” 

“That’s great, Jamie, really,” she says with a smile. He doesn’t respond right away. 

“How are you? I saw the magazines.” Her blood runs cold. “Come on, Bill, I know mom ragged you on it.” Jamie’s known she’s a lesbian since high school when he caught her kissing her best friend against the shed one hot summer afternoon. Feeling bitter, Billie stands up. 

“I’m used to her bullshit,” she says, grabbing her cigarettes and stepping onto her balcony. When she lights one, it’s an immediate relief. “The press? Not as much,” she admits. 

“What’s it like bein’ a Hollywood hotshot?” he asks, a laugh in his voice. She takes a deep drag, shaking her head.

“I try not to acknowledge it,” she admits. 

“Me and Addie’ve been watching your show.” She taps ash over her balcony and clenches her jaw. “Don’t get like that,” he drones without ever seeing her face. “It’s good. Really good.” 

“You never used to think it was good,” she says, embarrassed and maybe too bitter. Jamie always stood around a corner and watched when their mother would yell at her, tell her to stop that. It’s not right. As if she had any choice in the matter. As if she wanted to see the dead roaming her house on a Saturday afternoon. She was so alone. And then Jamie would look at her with those big, shameful eyes and turn away to go play with his friends, knees muddy and bruised. Jamie takes a breath on the other line. 

“You really think I had a say in it, Billie Dean?” 

“No,” she replies quickly and then sighs. “No, I don’t,” she adds, softer. “But you could have…” she trails off, rebellious tears welling in her eyes. She takes another long drag, trying to will them away. “Later, you could have…” 

“You mean later when you moved out and didn’t talk to any of us for five years? Or do you mean later when you sent me a Christmas card and spelled Addie’s name wrong.” Billie blushes fiercely, jaw clenched as she looks down, looks away as if Jamie’s staring right at her right now. “I know that your experiences with mom were a lot different than mine, but I ain’t the enemy.” She takes a long drag as she looks out at the skyline. She knows he’s right, but she doesn’t know how to let her body know that. 

“I’m sorry,” she finally admits, blowing smoke into the warm breeze. 

“I’m sorry too.” They’re both silent for a long time. “Listen, Billie. I’m tired. I’m driving in tomorrow. I’ll call you with news, alright?” 

“Alright,” she says, quiet as she looks down at her feet. 

“Try to get some sleep,” he says before the call disconnects. 

. . . 

When the sun comes up, Billie’s neck deep in a scientific journal about lung cancer. Her eyes are red, and her tea is long since cold, and her brow feels permanently furrowed, lips sealed in a hard line. It’s 6:30 when she finally turns her neck in another direction, peels her laptop from her skin, and licks her chapped lips. Her whole body is buzzing and achy, and she swallows, sending a vague text to cancel her things for the day. And then she drags herself to bed and sleeps so fitfully she could barely call it sleep. 

She only wakes up at noon to the sound of her phone ringing. Bleary and dazed, she pulls it toward her, hair across her face. 

“Hello?” she mumbles. 

“They’re gonna do some more tests, but…” Jamie sighs, and Billie feels electricity shoot through her in an icy, terrible jolt. 

“It’s cancer,” she says, cold and empty. 

“Is it surprising?” Jamie chuckles wearily, “she smokes like a chimney.” Billie’s stomach flips and a rush of dizziness takes over. 

“Now what?” 

“I don’t know.” 

. . . 

Billie doesn’t know what to wear to a party like this, but she does have more than enough black for a funeral. Stop. Stop it. Billie wants to scrub her mind clean with a brillo pad. Her chest clenches, and she closes her eyes, willing away the intrusive thoughts that want to swallow her whole. She doesn’t even know what to feel. All she can manage is panic and avoidance. It’s something to deal with later. Not now. Please, not now. She’ll have to make the trip down south. She knows this. It’s inevitable. Christ. 

Instead of digging through her closet, hair still wet after her shower, she walks to the kitchen and pours herself a glass of bourbon. She’s going to a party in two hours. Isn’t that what one does? Drink beforehand? 

. . . 

“Andy’s not coming,” you announce when you enter Norah’s apartment with several grocery bags full of various liquors. 

“What?” Norah asks, poking her head out from the kitchen. She’s unpackaging red solo cups, both shot glass and full size. 

“We had a fight.” 

“Uh oh,” she intones, “what happened?” You sigh, setting down the bags on her dining room table. 

“I told her I didn’t want her at the party.” Norah raises her brow, pressing a hand to her hip patiently. 

“Is everything okay?” You don’t know how to answer that. The excuse you gave Andy was some story about how you always attended Norah’s parties with Kate, and you didn’t want to feel like you’re replacing her this year, and it was thin and unbelievable even to Andy. 

“I’m pushing her away,” you finally admit, eyes squeezed tight. When you open them, Norah’s head is tilted, her eyes soft. 

“Why?” she asks carefully, stepping forward, folding her arms over her chest. 

“I think I feel trapped?” you guess, wringing your hands. “She loves me. She hasn’t said it, but I know she does. And I don’t think I can love her back.” 

“Because of Kate?” 

“Partially. I don’t know. I don’t wanna talk about it anymore,” you sigh, shaking your head and waving the topic away with your hands. “Let’s just get ready for this party.” Norah gives you a searing look, a hint of a smile on her lips, before continuing on. Though there’s something in her eyes that unsettles you, something she knows that she’s not saying. You chew your lip and try not to think about it. 

[nolifejukai]

[doll3tt33]

Unnecessarily lengthy ramble abt losing interest and moving on with a new acc + last few bot/fic ideas I might post (feel free to ignore idkidk)

I’ve been having a hectic week regarding academic stuff so I have the worst brain fog rn, and I have a feeling I should unwind a couple more days before writing this but I honestly don’t care atp 😭😭

Basically, as you can see with the title, I’m losing interest in AHS, evan peters, his characters - all that. Besides Colin Zabel (he’s still my husband fr), creating content for everything else feels like a real chore now, whilst back then it was truly enjoyable and exciting.

Don’t get me wrong, I love writing and making bots, like this stuff is basically for life lol. But nowadays, it feels like I’m simply utilizing the evans as tools to write out the tropes I enjoy, rather than actually experiencing a desire to write FOR the characters like I used to ((which still can be gratifying in its own respective way… until a certain motivating factor begins to lack, if that makes sense??

It really sucks cuz I chalked it up to me being burned out, when in reality my attraction was clearly just plummeting as we speak 😔. What’s worse is that I’m really comfortable in this fandom - like I have super cool moots here, there’s no drama, there’s a bunch of evan characters for everybody 😂, and I gained over 500 followers, which is still crazy to me! I tried to “prolong” my interest for the sake of all this progress, but I think the inevitable has arrived and I can no longer keep up, my resolve is crumbling y’all 😭😭😭

I was hoping to wait until the Tron movie comes out in 2025, cuz maybe seeing Evan in there would reignite some of ✨la passion✨ within me, however I don’t feel like hanging around anymore, since I no longer relate to the fandom. I feel so out of place now, like a fRaUD 😩 ((I’ll still most likely watch it, but until then we’ll see

And to clarify, I will most likely NOT post and interact as frequently as I used to anymore. I’m not deleting this account, though I am going to make a new account to post The Boys content, as I want a fresh clean slate to start new.

Before I do go, I might drop a bot or two, maybe even a fic in the near future since they’re halfway done and I did NOT use all that effort for nothing 😭💀:

- corrupt cop!Colin Zabel ((most likely will make this next…. For personal reasons 😳

- a standard pre-cult Kai bot ((not brown hair pre-cult Kai, the recently dyed blue hair one iykwim. sorry

- as for fics, I’ll most likely post a very short smut when Kyle goes down on reader, cuz why not 😏

- might finish the older!grumpy neighbor!kit I talked about before since I’m halfway done

- not sure about this but I have a really random JPM fic where reader (accidentally but also not so accidentally) killed their spouse and they have no one to call but him for help ((heavily based off the tv show Fargo, the first season

No promises tho! I might occasionally come back to post if some random ideas for the evans come up, and ofc for Colin cuz he’s still the loml, no debate <3

[maeriavizsendingjpmdose]

"There were voices down the corridor.

I thought I heard them say..

Welcome to the Hotel California."

[thevioletharmon]