#And the loving look from Valentina afterwards

[caliphoria17]

I am stuck here 🥹

[correlance]

Theory: Valentino was the famous 1920s actor Rudolph Valentino, the "Latin Lover".

Who was Rudolph Valentino?

Rodolfo Pietro Filiberto Raffaello Guglielmi di Valentina d'Antonguella (May 6, 1895 – August 23, 1926), known professionally as Rudolph Valentino and nicknamed the "Latin Lover", was an Italian actor based in the United States who starred in several well-known silent films from 1921 to 1926, including The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse, The Sheik, Blood and Sand, The Eagle, and The Son of the Sheik.

Valentino was a sex symbol of the 1920s, known in Hollywood as the "Latin Lover" (a title invented for him by Hollywood moguls), the "Great Lover", or simply "Valentino". His early death at the age of 31 caused mass hysteria among his fans, further cementing his place in early cinematic history as a cultural film icon.

Valentino was born in Castellaneta, Apulia, Italy…unable to secure employment in Italy, he departed for the United States in 1913. He was processed at Ellis Island at age 18 on December 23, 1913. Valentino never applied for American citizenship, and retained his Italian citizenship.

Arriving in New York City, he supported himself with odd jobs such as busing tables in restaurants and gardening. Around 1914, restaurateur Joe Pani who owned Castles-by-the-Sea, the Colony, and the Woodmansten Inn was the first to hire Rudolph to dance the tango with Joan Sawyer for $50 per week.

Eventually, he found work as a taxi dancer at Maxim's Restaurant-Cabaret. Among the other dancers at Maxim's were several displaced members of European nobility, for whom a premium demand existed…Valentino left town [in 1917], and joined a traveling musical that led him to the West Coast.

[…] With his dancing success, Valentino found a room of his own on Sunset Boulevard, and began actively seeking screen roles. His first part was as an extra in the film Alimony, moving on to small parts in several films. Despite his best efforts, he was typically cast as a "heavy" (villain) or gangster. At the time, the archetypal major male star was Wallace Reid, with a fair complexion, light eyes, and an All-American look, with Valentino the opposite; he eventually supplanted Sessue Hayakawa as Hollywood's most popular "exotic" male lead.

[…] With the Douglas Fairbanks type being the supposed epitome of manhood, Valentino was sometimes portrayed as a threat to the "All American" man. One man, asked in a street interview in 1922 what he thought of Valentino, replied, "Many other men [say they] desire to be another Douglas Fairbanks. But Valentino? I wonder…"

Women in the same interview found Valentino, quote, "Triumphantly seductive. He puts the love-making of the average husband or sweetheart into discard as tame, flat, and unimpassioned."

Some journalists were still calling [Valentino's] "masculinity" into question, going on at length about his pomaded hair, his dandyish clothing, his treatment of women, his views on women, and whether he was "effeminate" or not. Valentino hated these stories, and was known to carry clippings of the newspaper articles around with him and criticize them.

In July 1926, the Chicago Tribune reported that a vending machine dispensing pink talcum powder (face powder) had appeared in an upscale hotel's men's washroom. An editorial that followed used the story to protest the supposed feminization of American men, and blamed the talcum powder on Valentino and his films. The piece infuriated Valentino, and he challenged the writer to his choice of a boxing or wrestling match, since dueling was illegal. Neither challenge was answered.

Shortly afterward, Valentino met with journalist H. L. Mencken for advice on how best to deal with the incident. Mencken advised Valentino to "let the dreadful farce roll along to exhaustion" (i.e. "do nothing"), but Valentino insisted the editorial was "infamous", [and must be answered for in a one-on-one fight].

After Valentino challenged the Tribune's anonymous writer to a boxing match, the New York Evening Journal boxing writer, Frank O'Neill, volunteered to fight in his place. Valentino won the bout, which took place on the roof of New York's Ambassador Hotel.

Heavyweight champion Jack Dempsey, who trained Valentino and other Hollywood notables of the era in boxing, said of him: "He was the most virile and masculine of men. The women were like flies to a honeypot. He could never shake them off, anywhere he went. What a lovely, lucky guy."

Mencken found Valentino to be likable and gentlemanly, and wrote sympathetically of him in an article published in The Baltimore Sun a week after Valentino's death:

"It was not that trifling Chicago episode that was riding him; it was the whole grotesque futility of his life. Had he achieved, out of nothing, a vast and dizzy success? Then that success was hollow as well as vast—a colossal and preposterous nothing. Was he acclaimed by yelling multitudes? Then every time the multitudes yelled, he felt himself blushing inside…the thing, at the start, must have only bewildered him, but in those last days, unless I am a worse psychologist than even the professors of psychology, it was revolting him. Worse, it was making him afraid…here was a young man who was living daily the dream of millions of other men. Here was one who was catnip to women. Here was one who had wealth and fame, and here was one who was very unhappy [in spite of that wealth and fame]."

[…] Valentino was also the "sex symbol" of his time in the 1920s. The sheet music cover for "Rodolph Valentino Blues" written in 1922, to quote the lyrics, "Oh Mister Rodolph Valentino / I know I've got the Valentino blues / And when you come up on the screen / Oh! You're so romantic, I go frantic at the views!

[…] [Prior to his death], Valentino was fascinated with every part of movie-making. During production on a Mae Murray film, he spent time studying the director's plans. He craved authenticity and wished to shoot on location, finally forming his own production company, Rudolph Valentino Productions, in 1925. Valentino, George Ullman, and Beatrice Ullman were the incorporators.

[…] Valentino once told gossip columnist Louella Parsons that: "The women I love don't love me. The others don't matter." He claims that despite his success as a sex symbol, in his personal love life, he never achieved happiness.

[…] In 1919—just before the rise of his career—Valentino impulsively married actress Jean Acker, who was also [romantically] involved with actresses Grace Darmond and Alla Nazimova.

Acker became involved with Valentino in part to remove herself from the lesbian love triangle, quickly regretted the marriage, and locked Valentino out of their room on their wedding night. The couple separated soon after, and the marriage was never consummated [on account of Acker being a lesbian]. 

The couple remained legally married until 1921, when Acker sued Valentino for divorce, citing desertion. The divorce was granted, with Acker receiving alimony. She and Valentino eventually renewed their friendship, and remained friends until his death.

[His second marriage to actress Winifred Shaughnessy, known by her stage name, Natacha Rambova—an American silent film costume and set designer, art director, and protégée of Alla Nazimova, his ex-wife's lesbian lover—ended far more poorly.

The two married in 1922, remarried in 1923, and divorced in 1925. Towards the end of their marriage, Rambova was banned from his sets by contract. The end of the marriage was bitter, with Valentino bequeathing Rambova one dollar in his will.]

[…] From the time he died in 1926 until the 1960s, Valentino's sexuality was not generally questioned in print. At least four books, including the notoriously libelous Hollywood Babylon, suggested that [Valentino] may have been gay, despite his marriage to Rambova. For some, the marriages to Acker and Rambova, as well as the relationship with Pola Negri, added to the suspicion that Valentino was gay, and that these were "lavender marriages".

Some claim that Valentino had a relationship with Ramón Novarro, despite Novarro stating they barely knew each other. Hollywood Babylon recounts a story that Valentino had given Novarro an art deco dildo as a gift, which was found stuffed in his throat at the time of his murder. It is believed that no such gift existed.

There were also claims that he may have had relationships with both roommates Paul Ivano and Douglas Gerrad, as well as Norman Kerry, and openly gay French theatre director and poet Jacques Hébertot. However, Ivano maintained that it was untrue, and both he and Valentino were heterosexual. Biographers Emily Leider and Allan Ellenberger generally agree that [Valentino] was most likely straight, [though others have disputed this].

There was further supposed evidence that Valentino was gay; documents in the estate of the late author Samuel Steward indicated that Valentino and Steward were sexual partners. However, evidence found in Steward's claim was subsequently found to be false, as Valentino was in New York on the date Steward claimed a sexual encounter occurred in Ohio.

[Valentino died on 23 August 1926, at the age of 31, due to complications from perforated ulcer surgery, resulting in sepsis (bacterial poisoning), a collapsed lung, and other fatal conditions.]

[writingintheshadowsforever]

Yelena Belova x Reader Steal Your Heart Part 9

Summary: Yelena struggles to process her growing feelings for you while trying a way to avoid betraying you in the future.

Three days.

Its been three days since Yelena untangled herself from your body to crawl out of bed, and disappear into the night. Her phone started buzzing the next morning around eight. She already knew without a doubt it was you asking about her whereabouts. You probably assumed she slipped out to go get breakfast or something. But after an hour went by without her replying your texts were more frequent, and grew a bit more urgent.

She should've saw it coming after all it was the morning after the two of you had just confessed your love for each other. The night before after she rescued you from getting captured, and helped you complete one of the most important jobs in your career as a thief. Of course you weren't just going to let her slip away so easily.

The last thing Yelena wanted to do was up and leave you in the dark. But not too long after the two of you fell asleep in each other's arms. The blonde assassin was ripped from her peaceful slumber in a cold sweat, and a number of emotions swirling around in her heart to the point. Where it overwhelmed her so much Yelena felt like she was being suffocated by them. Being next to you brought her no comfort as she was pretty sure. You were the very thing causing the hurricane going inside of her.

So she did the only thing that came to mind. Yelena ran not even stopping one second to think about. How bad it would make her look in your eyes. Would you assume she went back to report to Valentina? While you might've let yourself fall her no doubt her connection with the woman made you proceed with caution.

Yelena planned to resolve these conflicting feelings in a matter of one day, but one turned into three and now she felt like she had dug herself into a hole. That would be impossible to get out of alone, and with limited options of people to turn too. She went to the only other person in New York City. Who she knew she could trust and might be able to help her.

Kate Bishop.

"So you're in love with her" Kate said repeating the very last words of the story. Yelena had spent the past two hours telling her over breakfast. She just needed to confirm she had really heard those words leave the blonde's mouth.

Yelena nodded sticking a forkful of waffles in her mouth.

"This is great."

"This is horrible."

Both statements were made at the same time, and the two friends stared each other down afterwards. Kate spoke up first "how is this a bad thing Yelena."

"I've never been in a real relationship before Kate, and the first time I find myself in love with someone. She's a target I've been hired to gain information on."

"Okay so this is confusing and I'll help you figure it out. How about that?" Kate suggested.

"There's nothing confusing about it I'm never going to see her again. Problem solved" Yelena said taking another massive bite of her food.

Kate closed her eyes and exhaled a deep breath. Keep your cool and stay patience she reminded herself. Kate knew this was going to be a rollercoaster the second Yelena broke into her apartment three days ago crying about her future broken heart. The assassin had already made up her mind about how all of this was going to end. She was just looking for someone to tell her she was doing the right thing.

"Do you really think y/n is just going to let you disappear from her life? Kate challenged her plan.

Yelena shrugged. "I don't see how she's going to stop me."

"Well from what you told me the girl is one hell of a tracker if you continue to ghost her. Then she'll probably put those skills to good use again to find you."

Her munching on the mac and cheese slowed down as Yelena went into deep thought about her plan. You were an infamous thief and she got to see your work first hand. When the two of went head to head with each other twice. And she was impressed considering she had never seen nor did she think. It was possible for someone to get the drop on Valentina the way you did. No doubt if you wanted to you could turn those skills around on her. If you needed to, but on the other hand Yelena trusted her abilities as a master spy. As long as she didn't leave behind any bread crumbs for you to follow. It would might be difficult, but not impossible to disappear without being able to follow her trail. She could leave behind false clues to lead you astray if need be.

The only card you could play that might work a hundred precent without fail is going to Valentina for info. On her whereabouts the woman would sell out. In a blink of an eye to get you under her thumb, but you wouldn't go that far for her would you? Your freedom was everything to you, and you were so close to your big endgame plan.

Yelena turned the scenario around onto herself coming to the realization. The main reason she chose to distant herself from you for these past couple of days was, because she wanted time to figure a way out of this mission. Before you shared something sacred with her, and she'd be forced to betray you. She chose to come to Kate for advice, over going straight to Valentina to cancel the mission.

Because deep down she knew Valentina wasn't going to make it easy by a long-shot, and Yelena didn't like to think about what she would do. When the powerful woman turned her request down, or worse decided to just send someone else after you. She'd break them in half without thinking about it. Yelena was at the point where she would do anything for you.

Have you fallen this hard for her to?

"I hate to say it but I think you're right." Yelena murmured swallowing the food in her mouth afterwards. She shoved the plate with a small portion of food left away, and proceeded to drop her head onto the table. The action resulted in harsh bang making Kate wince. The blonde seemed unfazed.

"Yelena come on at least you already she feels the same about you. The hard part is over with everything else that happens now is going to be easy." Kate said trying to reassure her friend.

"Don't lie to me I know enough about relationships to know none of them are easy. They're as fragile as glass very easy to break you mean? Yelena shot back not lifting her head from the table.

Kate chose her next words carefully. "Relationships require a lot of work and attention yes, but they're only as hard as you make them. You're making this so much more complicated than it needs to be."

"You don't get it" Yelena whined.

"Then explain it."

"She was just supposed to be a mission nothing more. I wasn't supposed to fall in love with her now I'm screwed when she finds out" Yelena blurted out jumping out of her seat to wonder over to the sink to stare out of the windows. Her eyes glaring into the early morning sky as the sun just began to rise.

Kate's response didn't come fast this time as she contemplated the truth bomb Yelena just dropped on her. She now understood why the blonde ran away from her feelings. "What kind of mission?" she asked trying to gauge the situation.

"Valentina wanted me to get closer to her and make her trust me, so she'd let her guard down enough to maybe tell me all her secrets. Give me something that could be used as leverage against her, so Val could force her to join her ranks." Yelena felt more disgusted with herself as she recounted her duties. She never should've agreed to this. It made her remember the reason why she promised herself she was done with seducing and manipulating after the Red Room was taken down. It never felt good inside instead it made her like more than a crappy person.

"Wait Valentina as in the woman who hired you to kill Clint two years ago?" Kate asked with a frown.

Yelena cursed under her breath as the tone in the archer's voice gave away. She wasn't truly asking but looking for confirmation. "Yes."

"You told me you were done with her Yelena. She lied to you about Clint, and caused you to nearly kill your sister's best friend." Kate exclaimed standing up to throw an accusatory finger at the blonde.

Yelena turned around to face her fuming best friend with nonchalant attitude. "I lied sorry Katie but I knew you would freak, and get all in your feelings about me still working for her. As for the Clint situation we had a nice long chat about the incident." She shrugged her shoulders when Kate raised a suspicious eyebrow at her claim. "She knows not to do it again."

"Then why not just back out of this mission? Has she paid you already?"

Valentina had wanted to send her payment at the start of this mission, and not just because Yelena was just that good. She suspected the payment was going to be a way to seal the deal permanently. Just in case Yelena woke up with a conscious one day and wanted out. So she turned the money down.

"No but if I back out she'll just send someone else to recruit y/n." Yelena said not revealing her true fears. The next person Valentina sent might not be as nice or patient as her. And she already had one falling out with the woman over the Clint situation. The nice long chat was more like Yelena putting over a dozen agents in the hospital. In her haste to get to the dark-haired woman while she was hosting a quite important meeting. None of that mattered to Yelena as she barged in making a beeline for Valentina to shove her down onto the table. Once reaching her and putting a blade to her throat to drive her point home. She wouldn't be played or toyed with anymore.

If it came down to you she might finish the job this time especially to keep you from finding out the truth. Anything to hide her lies.

"You need to come clean with her then" Kate said.

"What? You're joking right?"

Kate shook her head crossing her arms over her chest, and fixed Yelena with a hard stare. "If you can't back out this mission then the truth is going to come out either way. You need it to be on your terms, so you can explain."

The image of you standing a few feet away bristling with a newfound hatred for her, and betrayal in your eyes flashed in her mind. No amount of explaining would get through to you. The trust and bond built between the two of you would crumble just like that.

"She'd hate me" Yelena insisted.

"That's a risk you need to take Yelena because it's the only way. The truth will set you free you know."

A Few Hours Later

After spending another hour or so going back and forth with Kate, because the archer continued to stand her ground. On the truth being the only choice to get out of this mess.

"I'll lose her" Yelena argued.

"Well if she finds out you're lying you'll lose her anyway. Take the chance and be honest with her. You never know she might surprise you."

Kate left her to marinate on those words and Yelena decided it was time for her to return. Before you got too worried or suspicious leading to you taking upon yourself to search for her. She found you grabbing coffee and donuts at your favorite bakery that surprisingly wasn't a Starbucks. You told her the famous coffee chain was overrated and not worth the money. Before introducing her to this one smaller and less known place. She fell in love with it.

"I hope one of those are for me" Yelena said to get your attention.

You were exiting the bakery with a steaming hot cup of mocha in one hand, and a large white bag filled with donuts in the other. A glazed donut stuffed into your mouth your head swiveled in the direction of the familiar voice. There she was your maybe girlfriend Yelena Belova leaning up against the wall dressed in more casual clothes than her usual stylish ones.

"Yelena you're back" You tried to say but your voice was muffled considering the donut.

"Don't talk with your mouth full" she chastised you with a playful grin. Pushing off the wall to walk over and plant a kiss on your forehead. Her hand reaching in the bag and her eyes lit up with glee when she pulled out a chocolate icing donut with sprinkles. Her favorite even when she wasn't around. You still thought about her.

"I always get two just in case" You told now that the donut was devoured. "Come on I know a place we can talk."

It wasn't up for discussion no matter which way she spun it. Yelena had disappeared for days without giving you any type of heads-up. When you left for your mission you gave her a courtesy heads up. She owed you answers.

The spot came to no surprise to her. The same rooftop where the two of you spent the night talking and watching the sun come up. As you waited for the heat to die down after the museum robbery. "No one ever comes up here" You told her digging a blanket out of nowhere.

The two of you settled on it with the bag of donuts, and you didn't even bother to protest when she helped herself to your drink. It was a jumbo size another reason you loved the smaller bakery.

"So I guess I freaked you out huh? Yelena mused knowing you weren't going to tiptoe around the elephant in the room forever.

You nodded. "At first I figured Valentina sent you on a mission or something considering. You're still employed to her and everything." Your voice dropping low with a hint of anger in it when her name left your mouth. You clocked the way Yelena looked away in shame or guilt. It was hard to tell but you figured it stemmed from the fact that. At one point she was trying to get you join up with the woman against your will.

You decided to brush it off since that was the past, and none of it mattered anymore. "But then I realized if that was the case you would've left a note explaining, or at least texted me back you know. Then I figured you needed time and space to process us." You wagged a finger between the two of you.

You were spot on but part of her wished your mind was capable of digging so much deeper to unveil all her dirty secrets. To spare her having to tell them to you out of her own mouth.

"This is new to me and when I woke up that night with you in my arms. It was so different than all those other times I looked at you, and it was like I was really seeing you for the first time. My emotions were everywhere. It was just too much so I ran" Yelena explained drawing figures in the blanket with her finger. Eyes refusing to make contact with yours.

"Oh Yel" You whispered scooting over so your shoulder bumped into hers. That was all you did letting her choose rather or not to initiate any other physical touch. "I knew this was going to be a challenge from day one. I'm okay with that you're worth it I'd risk it all to be with you."

Her head snapped towards your so fast her eyes glistening with tears. She didn't realize it till they started to spill out. "I've never had a real relationship before. Any resemblance to a real relationship I've been in my life was a lie. This the first time I've had a real one, and I'm afraid of screwing it up."

You chuckled throwing your head back with a grin. She frowned but it morphed into a smile when your forehead pushed up against hers. "I'm not expert at this either I just know what I want, and I'm willing to take the time to figure this out. Even if it means taking things slow till we're both comfortable."

"You're really okay with that" Yelena questioned in disbelief.

"Yes I'm all in flaws and all you're stuck with me now Belova. Once I let someone in that's it." You replied bumping your nose into hers.

Tell her the truth. Tell her right now. Its now or never.

In the end instead of following Kate's advice Yelena did the complete opposite. As you were pulling back a hand caught you by the chin. Her grip was firm but gentle and she brought your face back to hers guiding your lips to meet hers in slow and passionate kiss. You followed her pace letting her lead how far this would go. One of your hands cradling the side of her face.

Yelena let herself get lost in the feeling of your lips moving in sync with hers, basking in all the emotions. That came flaring up inside her but the difference this time was she had no intention on running. She was now sure of the lengths you'd go to for her, and wanted to enjoy while it lasted. The truth can wait a little bit longer.

Two Days Later

"I know you're not a fan of my profession, but I'm not going to college." Yelena said leaning back into the car.

You let out a burst of laughter and her lips quirked upward, but she resisted the urge to smile. "I'm a professional thief Yelena I have no room to judge your how you make your living. A dishonest has gotten both of us farther in life than a honest one would've. I just don't like your employer.

"Then why are we here?" She gestured to the college right across the street from where you had her parked.

"I brought you here to meet someone." You revealed pausing when the double doors were pushed open, and a bunch of college students came pouring out. Your eyes scanned the crowd for one familiar face in particular.

A wave of nervousness washed over Yelena as her bright green eyes followed your line of sight once it honed on the target . A warm smile forming on your face as you relaxed. It was a boy slightly younger than both of you around Kate's age. She focused on his features looking for the telltale signs to confirm her suspicions. But you beat her to the punch.

"He's my baby brother."

Tag List: @danveration @yelenabelovasgf @xxromanoffxx @emril-osvigne @be-missed @natashasilverfox @yelena-beloved @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @catswag22 @here4thegayships @jeyramarie @wh0reforwanda @supercorpdanbeau @chloe7076 @ohmy-godyes @lizlil @musicinourlips

[stargazer-sims]

15 OC Questions!

I was also tagged by @van-yangyin - thank you! I love how many times I've been tagged for this. I'll happily do as many as I get!

Anya (Baranova) Pavlenko

Are you named after anyone?

I'm not entirely sure, to be honest. My real name is Anna-Valentina Alexandrovna (The first part is pronounced like Anna from the movie "Frozen" if you're curious). "Alexandrovna" is the patronymic from my father, Alexander, so I suppose technically I'm named after him, but I don't think it really counts because all Russian names are like that. Anya is a diminutive of Anna, although it's my preferred way to be addressed.

Anyway, there's a family rumour that my father named me after his first crush which, if it's true, must've absolutely thrilled my mom. Her name's Yevgenia; Zhenya or Jenny for short.

When was the last time you cried?

I try to cry as little as possible. The last time was quite recently, though. It was a couple of weeks ago, at the airport, just before I boarded the first leg of my flight home. Kolya — you know him as Nikolai. He'd never tolerate that particular diminutive from anyone who's not close to him — came to say goodbye to me. He was trying so hard to be brave, poor thing, but he was crying a little bit and trying desperately to hide it, and that set me off. He doesn't cry often either, but it absolutely breaks my heart when he does. I had to hurry off so we didn't embarrass ourselves by giving away our weaknesses in front of each other like that. I cried my eyes out on the plane, though. I love him so much, and saying goodbye is always hard, no matter what I may claim is the "official story".

Do you have kids?

Thankfully, no. Children would definitely cramp my lifestyle. I don't think my darling Kolya wants kids either, so I'm sure that even if we do manage to settle down at some point, I'll still be able to dodge that particular bullet.

Do you use sarcasm?

I do, but not excessively.

What’s the first thing you notice about people?

I tend to notice little imperfections; asymmetry in a face, birthmarks, moles, wrinkles, scars... that sort of thing. Those are the things that make faces unique and interesting and beautiful. The little creases between Nikolai's eyebrows, for example? I love those. I'm a professional photographer, and I think I've always had an eye for fascinating physical details.

What’s your eye colour?

My eyes are blue.

Scary movies or happy endings?

I'll admit, I enjoy scary movies. Not the ones with senseless, gratuitous violence, but the ones that have the potential to be truly scary. Psychological thrillers and films that are scary enough to make me look over my shoulder for a few days afterward. When we're together, Nikolai watches them with me sometimes, but I know he doesn't like them. When the really scary or messy parts come up, he just wants to be cuddled and doesn't really want to look. I won't lie... I like scary movies for that reason, too. I'm a bit enamoured with the idea of him needing me to protect him from something. He's typically the strong one, or at least that's what he'd like everyone to think, so it's oddly nice when he lets himself be even a little vulnerable with me.

Any special talents?

Ooh... I don't think I should say what those are on a PG-13 blog. Ask my Kolya what my special talents are. Watch him blush. It'll be adorable and amusing, I promise.

Where were you born?

Brindleton Bay

What are your hobbies?

I would say photography, but that's also my job, so probably that doesn't count. My main hobby is painting and drawing. I also enjoy cooking and trying new recipes. I absolutely love to dance. I think that could be considered a hobby as well. Oh, and I like to knit.

Have you any pets?

No, I don't. My job requires a lot of travelling, and it wouldn't be fair to the pet if I constantly had to leave them with someone else while I'm away.

What sports do you play/have played?

I used to be a competitive figure skater. I also did gymnastics when I was young. One of my favourite sports is skiing, and I also enjoy weight training and yoga.

How tall are you?

165cm

Favourite subject in school?

My favourite subject in school was always art. I also liked physical education and history.

Dream job?

I'm lucky enough to have my dream job right now. I'm a professional photographer, and I specialize in sports and entertainment. My studio is called Shooting Stars, and I've gotten contracts from all over the world to do shoots for actors, musicians, athletes and performing artists. My photos have been in magazines, on the internet, and in loads of advertising and promotional materials. Between contracts, I actually do have a physical studio in Brindleton Bay, where I do both corporate and private portrait shoots for clients. It's just a little hole-in-the-wall place, but it's mine and I love it. My flat is above the studio, so it's convenient to be so close to my work when I'm at home. I can't possibly imagine anything better. Not everyone can say they're living their dream, but I'm proud to say I am.

______

I've tagged so many people already, but this time I'll tag @van-yangyin (because you tagged me), @bl-sims-anime @akitasimblr @enniewritesathing

As always, feel free to ignore if you've already done it, or don't want to do it!

[minervafortuna]

The Pianist: A Tale Of Horror (Ch.3)

The next morning, Émilie has made her decision. She confesses to Lisa that she's going to give up her job at the school. She no longer wants to have to go out in town and risk running into Nicolas or any of their acquaintances. Lisa tells her that she might as well go to the interview at Théodore Costine's castle. Émilie goes to the castle secretly hoping to meet the mysterious pianist again. She's welcomed by Nadia, who is as elegant as ever, but this time in a white suit. She's behind a magnificent white and gilded desk. Only her black eyes, her black hair tied in a bun, and the black stone of her pendant stand out from the luminous whiteness of the room. She informs Émilie that Mr. Costine is abroad, and she will be conducting the interview. It seems that she has already done some research on Émilie. She's convinced that Émilie is the right person for the job. Émilie asks to see Valentina, and a housemaid brings her a lovely seven-year-old girl with dark hair and black eyes. Nadia explains that there is, however, a rule to be followed in the job. She immediately reassures Émilie, saying that all she needs to do is be discreet. "See no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil," says Nadia, pointing to three Chinese statues on the desk. They represent the three famous monkeys: one covers its eyes, the second its ears, and the third its mouth. Nadia and Émilie shake hands. Upon closer inspection, Émilie discovers that the black stone in Nadia's pendant is actually a tiny vial. Nadia notices her surprise and tells her that the pendant is from Romania and is a memento from a past lover. Afterward, Nadia takes Émilie on a tour of the castle. She introduces her to the household staff: the head chef, the gardener, the chauffeur, and finally the two live-in maids: Marie and Karine. Marie is a delicate young girl barely twenty years old, with chestnut hair and rosy cheeks like a baby's. She whispers while squeezing Émilie's hand, "You're so beautiful." As they're about to leave, the gardener asks Émilie to wait while he secures the three female dogs. She watches through the window as he struggles to control the three fierce Dobermans by their leashes. He then returns to escort her to the garden gate, mentioning that one of the three dogs is blind and another is mute, but they're all dangerous. On the way back, Émilie feels something on her palm. She looks and is surprised to find a strange burn mark that resembles the letter "S." Yet, she doesn't remember burning herself while cooking. Another memory gap caused by the depression she had been plunged into since her breakup with Nicolas.

[astra-galaxie]

Itzel Ramirez

Biographical information

Full Name: Itzel Ramirez

Gender: Female

Status: Alive

Age: 6 (season 1)

Birth: 2006

Race: Human

Nationality: Mexican-Spanish

Origin: Grimsborough, USA

Residence: Grimsborough, USA

Family:

Eduardo Ramirez (father)

Valentina Ramirez (mother)

Arturo Ramirez (brother)

Lucia Ramirez (sister)

Mariposa Ramirez (sister)

Profile

Height: 3'6" Age: 6 (season 1) Weight: 45lbs Eyes: brown Blood: B-

The youngest Ramirez, Itzel is a sweet little girl with short black hair tied back by a set of pink ribbons and warm brown eyes. She wears a pink and purple hoodie, dark purple leggings, and sparkly light-up pink and white sneakers. Her pockets are always filled with random objects that she finds throughout the day that look pretty, like rocks, leaves, and flowers.

Synopsis

Itzel is the fourth and final child of Eduardo and Valentina Ramirez. Like the rest of her siblings, she is a minor character who appears in The Case of The Criminal. She goes to the same school as her sisters, where she loves reading time, her music classes and playing with her friends at recess.

In her free time, Itzel serves as a member of the Grimsborough Girl Scouts. She loves attending scouting events, especially those with the Grimsborough Boy Scouts because she gets to hang out with her Uncle David Jones, who volunteers with the Boy Scouts. Jones always buys a box of Girl Scout cookies from her and every other box afterwards. Itzel says her Uncle has a cookie addition, but with his help, she sells out every season, so she sees nothing wrong with his cookie obsession.

Itzel loved visiting Pacific Bay to see her father and attend her Aunt Adalet and Uncle Fili's wedding. While she had a lot of fun at the wedding, she liked spending time with just her family. They visited many beaches, went seashell hunting, built sandcastles, and even got to bury their father in the sand. But they had to dig him out before he got sunburnt.

Story Information

First appeared:

Bomb Alert on Grimsborough (cameo)

Happy Birthday to You! (first speaking role)

Trivia

She was diagnosed with level 1 autism (commonly known as high-function autism) near the end of her first year in school

She doesn't let people underestimate her because of her autism and shows them that kids with disabilities can do things just like "normal" kids can

She loves the colours pink and purple

She and Avi Douglas are close friends despite her being a year older than the boy

After hearing about how her father took down a criminal with a frying pan, Itzel began practicing how to use a frying pan as a weapon

It has resulted in multiple people getting hit in the knees by a frying pan, followed by the little girl tearfully apologizing while sticking colourful bandages on the person's bruises

Itzel loves baking with her mother, especially when making traditional Mexican or Spanish desserts like Conchas and Churros

Arturo got them matching noise-cancelling headphones to help Itzel when she gets overwhelmed. He got himself a pair because his sister was scared to wear them at first, so he told her they could be headphone buddies!

Arturo also made Itzel several music playlists for her to listen to to help her sensory issues. They range from calming tunes to Itzel's favourite songs from children's movies

She loves going on walks with Lucia around town and visiting the playground by their house. Her older sister taught her how to swing and promised to show her how to use the monkey bars once she was old enough

Itzel loves listening to Mariposa read her stories, even if her sister is reading them for school. Mariposa does different voices for the characters and knows how to bring the stories to life for her little sister

Disclaimer: Character design was created using Rinmarugames Mega Anime Avatar Creator! I have only made minor edits to the design! Background courtesy of CriminalArtist5.

Links to my stories:

The Case of the Criminal (Ao3/Wattpad)

Killer Bay (Ao3/Wattpad)

Where in the World are the Killers? (Ao3/Wattpad)

[r0ttingsystem]

Felt cute, might delete later :3 -G

a little (very long) vent from grian (co written by Lio because grian is dumb)

Technically collective vent too? Idk

Tw description of abuse (emotional, sexual), grooming?

I don't understand what's wrong with my brain

I miss her

And I miss how she made me feel

She made me feel so special

Which yea makes sense I guess because she borderline groomed me

But like

I miss the bad shit

I miss when she would make me go into crisis almost daily because she just felt like it (I'm being so fr rn, she would laugh afterwards) because when she did that it would 1) mean that we would be talking in call and 2) she would baby me and coddle me afterwards

I miss when I would have to beg and cry for her to not make me do sexual shit (which rarely worked btw) and I miss when I would cry and scream and fake orgasms so she would let me stop because I would have her full attention and she would care for me after

I miss her stressing me out so much that I would regress constantly (this was before I became permanently a little due to her, fun fact but I'm normally meant to be 14/15 and not 4)

I miss being put to bed

I miss being on call 24/7

I miss being cared for

I was happy, I would be constantly in fight or flight mode because she would get cold and sometimes threaten to harm herself if I didn't do what she wanted, but I was happy

I was cared for, only if I did what she said and didn't talk to anyone else, but I was cared for

She calmed me down after panic attacks, she would stay on call at all times and would do stuff with me, she would be there

Then she got cold

And left

I remember that night

I remember waiting her for to reply, looking at the chat like a dog waiting for its owner for literal hours

I remember my heart dropping when I realized she wasn't going to reply

I keep looking for her in all the people we talk to

I keep looking for someone who'll show the same amount of care she did

Even if they hurt me, they'll at least make me feel special

Nobody is like her, which is guess is good? I don't know

But that means that everyone is "cold"

And I keep feeling like they're about to leave

If they don't talk to me 24/7 they might as well leave right?

I know that's not the case but It feels like it

And it hurts so bad

So. Fucking. Bad.

I can feel my heart being ripped out of my chest every time I catch myself blankly looking at our chats, waiting for them to reply

It feels like that whole year is replaying in my head in one second

That that happens every day, multiple times

It hurts

And it's so hard to come to terms that nobody is going to love me

And I understand, I'm too much work, genuinely too much work

I'm too much

But I'm looking for love everywhere I can, but I won't find it

I know I won't find it

Nobody deserves to have to deal with the mess that is me

I'm GLAD nobody has to deal with me, but it hurts

I just want love

I just want to be cared for

But that's too much to ask for

I believe in soulmates, but I don't think mine exists

I'm beginning to understand that other people aren't "right person wrong time" or "wrong person right time" for me, I'm the wrong person, and it'll always be the wrong time

I wish I wasn't like this

I wish I didn't make all of us like this, so difficult, so complicated

I'm so sorry, to everyone

I'm sorry to my headmates

I'm sorry to my family

I'm sorry to my mom

I'm sorry to my brothers

I'm sorry to everyone

I'm sorry to our friends

I'm sorry to lilly

I'm sorry to eirhnh

I'm sorry to Connor

I'm sorry to jack

I'm sorry to angelos

I'm sorry to basilis

I'm sorry to valentina

I'm sorry to eudokia and despina and everyone else

I'm more then sorry to Comet-Collective, who's seen a lot of the uglier sides of me

I'm sorry

I'm sorry to everyone who's had the displeasure of talking to me

I'm sorry, I'm so sorry

I wish I wasn't like this too

I wish I didn't exist too

I try to numb myself into not existing but it never works

I promise I'll find a way to make it up to all of you

I'll find a way to make knowing me worth it

Until then, I'm sorry

[apexart-journal]

Sonia Paulino Love Outbound to Montevideo, Day 19

Wednesday: The day began with a morning meet-and-greet with Laura Rocha, Communications professor at Universidad Catholica with a Master's in Creative Writing for Film, TV, and Transmedia. She gave me a tour of common areas, we passed by Javier's desk to say hi, then sat for a chat in the cafeteria garden with our coffees. It was lovely. Topics of conversation included: modern methods of communication and subliminal propaganda, teaching in our digital age, TikTok and the kids'/students'/chiquilins' (chickadees'?) innate savvy with graphics and photography, mothers and nurturing, and the impact of documentary work.

It's another HOT one with MORE SUN. From the university, Valentina kindly drove me to Centro Educativo Los Tréboles which provides educational services to children and teens from disenfranchised neighborhoods. The teens were out on a field trip to the beach, so my 5 hours of volunteer work involved tending to forty or so 5-7 year olds. I helped guide them through a relay of water games, watched over them as they ran and played for what seemed like forever in a HOT, SUNNY field, helped serve them cups of fruit salad as a snack and, later, pre-dinner of rice cooked with mixed vegetables. There were some minor skirmishes, but the kids seemed otherwise well behaved. That is except for one kid acted out while we were in the meditative woodsy patch by proclaiming “La Virgen no existe!” and proceeded to slap the Virgin Mary sculpture in the face. I didn’t feel it was my place to discipline and, to be honest, thought it as amusing as it was appalling, but was relieved when the supervising staff member said “No! Why are you doing that?” and gently pulled him away. While waiting outside for some of their parents who were meeting about a 2-night camping trip they were going to go on, I suddenly had kids crawling all over me asking me how to say things in English like Papa Noel and papas fritas. Do people sing and dance where you are from?  Do you have an iPhone? I pulled out the apexart Motorola to show them where Montevideo and New York are on Google maps. Is that the water? Where is the sky? Did you fly on an airplane? One little boy had graying front teeth and Juan, the staff member who guided me, asked him if he was sure he was brushing everyday. “Si!”

Afterwards, Juan kindly drove me to the next activity, "La Voz del Cuerpo". It was a singing class heavy on theory and light on formal training. Myself and about ten other women sat in a circle on the floor and were encouraged to activate the potential of our own unique voices. Our first exercise was to follow an empowering a cappella everyone but me was familiar with called "Reverderser" by Perotá Chingó. For the final 30 minutes of a two hour course, we stood and sang two songs: The Beatles' "Let it Be", and Shakira's "Moscas en la Casa". It was a long day.

Thursday:  Some down time light schedule happy to be indoors

Zoom with Mvelo, apexart inbound fellow from South Africa. Our experiences are polar opposites. north/south fast/slow hot/cold

Therapist. We talk about the week. The heat wave has broken and the sun's beatings have made way for a heavy dose of humidity. Still HOT. I'm 90% sure I spot the truck and driver who hit me. It's the same day of the week but maybe 20 minutes later than the accident, on a different street, and they're making a left turn this time from the opposite direction. There is a different assistant in the passenger seat. The driver looks to be concentrating on his driving.

Gym workout feeling an endorphins boost peacocks in a park nearby.

Friday: Cooler weather! There's talk of rain.

Journaling

Meeting with Nia apexart program coordinator. We also talked about the week.

Quick just-in-case groceries get in gear for final week Out tomorrow and assuming busy Sunday Not sure what businesses will be open Mon-Tues on account of the 4-day weekend during Carnival that is also called Carnival

Journaling

Ramping up to go out tonight. The Llamadas Parade is said to be the highlight of Carnival and features candome drums drums drums! 

[rebelrayne]

hi hello love 💛 I went to Suzi with a Youcef question and she deferred to our resident Youcef stan. if Jessie’s Husband™ wants to offer input as well, we will not complain.

can you tell us about his in-villa relationships, canon or headcanon? aside from Bruno and Najuma, I feel like his friendships were pretty unexplored. who do you think he was close with during the show? do you think he had any spats or grief with the other islanders? depending on your route, he couples up with almost half of the girls at some point - do you think sparks flew with anybody other than Najuma/MC?

Okay so I know we didn't want Bruno and Najuma buuuuuut I did them too lol I think it's safe to say that Youcef would be difficult to remain friends with after the Villa, there are very few I feel like he would keep up with and stay close with. I tried to hit everything in the list by talking about their relationship then added another part for romance if I thought it was applicable.

Who was Youcef closest to?

Bruno, Thabi, Najuma and Valentina (explained further below)

Who was Youcef not close to at all?

Hazeem, James, Tom, Kobi and Dylan (obviously there)

Who was Youcef most compatible with?

MC — Thabi — Najuma

Angie 🤝🔥

They seem like an odd pair of friends but do I think they were? Yes. Angie and Youcef are pretty similar in humor. I can totally see them bonding over sarcastic remarks or snarky comments. I think Angie probably did get a bit fed up with his overconfident act though. She would most likely take him down a peg or two and Youcef definitely respects her enough to take a step back and hear it. Even if he continued to act the same way afterwards. I see them being close during their time in the Villa (or at least friends who share the same humor) but after the show ends, they would part ways.

Okay now for if they had a spark. No way. They didn't even kiss when they were coupled up. I think Youcef probably finds her attractive because Angie is gorgeous. I think Angie thinks Youcef is a good enough looking guy but she's turned off by his cocky attitude. They most certainly keep it friendly while coupled (if they are coupled at all during your game).

Bruno 🤝

So I think we know canon that Bruno is Youcef's best friend but... I really don't think that's accurate. Bruno is silly and goofy which is the complete opposite to Youcef's dry and witty humor. We see Youcef get frustrated with him in 36, too. I think he and Bruno were friends because they came in at the same time but are they best friends? No. Maybe on Bruno's end but not on Youcef's. I could see Bruno reaching out to him after the Villa though! They might become better friends afterwards because Bruno makes a huge effort to stay friends and eventually, this leads to their closeness after the show ends.

Cora 🤝

They went on one date and it was such friendship vibes that they just never brought it up again. I think, similar to Angie, Youcef would be friends with Cora in the Villa. They don't have too much in common that would help them keep up outside the Villa but they also don't have enough in common to be super close in the Villa either. They talk, they chat, they laugh a bit but that's as far as it goes. I don't think Youcef would rush to go sit next to her at the dinner table or anything.

Dylan 😒

Dylan doesn't get the handshake emoji because we all know Youcef hates him. He can't stand Dylan from the moment he hops down from the box challenge. Youcef isn't intimidated by Dylan, he just thinks he's a disgusting and vile human being. Youcef is definitely a one strike, you're out type when it comes to people as toxic as Dylan. He wouldn't give him another chance after the Villa. He'd always be wary, he'd always give him cold and menacing glares. I do think Dylan acted as a wake-up call for Youcef though. Without Dylan, we would not get Youcef confessing his feelings. Dylan made him see that MC deserved better and he wanted to be the person to give it to her.

Hazeem 🤝

Oh poor, poor Hazeem. Okay yeah, they're not really friends. At all. Only because Youcef comes in and I really think he wants to win the game. He's very determined to be able to stay in the Villa and unfortunately for Hazeem, Najuma is Youcef's best bet for that. These two are acquaintances. Nothing more, nothing less. There's no hard feelings I'm sure, but they're not calling each other up to see how things are going in the real world any time soon.

James 🤝

James is probably so intimidated by Youcef. Youcef is like this cool, suave and charming guy who makes women swoon so easily and then James flounders like a fish to get any words out because he's nervous. They're friendly in the Villa. James has definitely said a few witty remarks that made Youcef snort laugh. I could see James modeling a character after Youcef though, like as the guy that the girl chases after even though the right option has been in front of her all along. Also, I don't think Youcef has forgiven James for the stupid Musical that he was tricked into so there's also that.

Juliet 🤝🔥

Yeah, he isn't friends with her in the Villa. These two are miles apart. Youcef is a dramatic man but Juliet's type of drama? No, he's not about it. He stays away from it. He loved it when MC tears into her, he thought it was about time someone shoved it back at Juliet. She redeems herself a bit when she's leaving with him, but he's still not really keeping up with her outside the Villa. He might meet up with her if he's in the area for work out of politeness but that's about it.

Oh God, no, no. These two as a couple? Nope. Youcef is into fashion, he can be a bit snobby at times but Juliet's type of posh and snobby? Nope. He's not a fan. I could see Juliet flaunting money, dropping designer names in a conversation and Youcef's internally rolling his eyes and groaning. He would not enter a relationship with her even though she would probably be interested in being in one with him.

Kelly 🤝

I think Youcef thinks Kelly is attractive. She's a gorgeous girl but ultimately, he thinks this until she opens her mouth. I just don't see him being interested romantically at all. I think he'd be nice while she was there in the Villa but he doesn't have much to talk to her about except, um, baking cakes I guess? He wouldn't go out of his way outside the Villa but, similar to Juliet, maybe if he's in the neighborhood, he'll stop by her bakery or something. As long as she knows it's platonic.

Kobi 🤝

I think Kobi can actually be a bit immature. I don't know how much Youcef would be able to tolerate it. He might have a conversation with him here and there but ultimately... There's really not much for them to talk about. I think Youcef is friendly with Kobi but probably doesn't think of him as a friend.

Lexi 🤝🔥

Youcef and Lexi have a lot in common I think. Under other circumstances, I think they may have actually gotten along to an extent. I'll be exploring their dynamic in my upcoming story, too! As far as the game goes, I think Youcef is a pretty intuitive guy and he can probably tell that the way Lexi is runs deeper than it seems (especially when she finally brings up her sister). If it's between her and him, he does try to console her and tell her to stop. I think Lexi in the game is too self-absorbed even for Youcef. Maybe after she starts to calm down, I could see them chatting about fashion or something but other than that, whatever kind of relationship they had ends when she walks out the door. Neither of them care to keep up with one another outside the Villa.

Oh and these two? Romantically, yeah okay maybe not long-term the way Lexi is now. But if you think they didn't make-out in a dark corner the night Lexi left? Open your mind up. They most definitely had a passionate make-out session fueled by hate. Youcef was probably a little sad by her departure but literally only because that kiss is going to be hard for him to forget. He obviously gets over it but he was definitely into that hate-kissing.

Najuma 🤝🔥

As far as friendship goes, they have a bond. They'll definitely be friends outside the Villa. They'll chat every now and again, text or visit one another. They're literally only friends because of the experience they shared though. I do see him actually trying to keep the friendship, which he probably wouldn't do for the vast majority of other Islanders. Would they have been friends had they met outside the Villa? Probably not. But I do think they care about one another's wellbeing (at least by the end of the season).

Romantically... Youcef is a player, guys. He is willing to charm or flirt with whoever it is to keep him in the Villa and in the game. This isn't a reflection on her, no, this 1000% on him. I think he genuinely cares at the end of the season but they were never truly well-matched for the long-haul, which I think most of us can agree with. He flirts with other people openly in front of her the first half of the season, he has no problem doing it which tells you that he's not completely in it with her. If MC isn't with Youcef, him and Najuma probably wouldn't continue their relationship. They live very different lives but they would remain friends.

Oliver 🤝

Okay so I just don't see how Oliver doesn't end up friends with everyone in the Villa (outside of Dylan, of course). I think Youcef probably think Oliver is a nice guy and granted, he doesn't get to know him very well since he came in late but I could see Youcef staying friends with Oliver outside the Villa. Oliver is very laid back. I could see Youcef vibing with that energy. Oliver might be someone that Youcef keeps up with on the outside. This friendship is variant obviously depending on you couple with in 41 but regardless, I think Youcef is friends Oliver.

Thabi 🤝🔥

I think Thabi is just a sweetheart and it's hard for anyone to not be friends with her! Her and Youcef have a bit in common, I think. They're both pretty reserved and think similarly in how to handle tough situations. The two of them were friends for sure. I think Youcef would try to keep up a bit outside the Villa, too. Just check in, see how she's doing. I think Thabi is also one of the people in the Villa that Youcef was able to have intellectual conversations with so he most certainly thought she was lovely.

Oh Thabi is soooo attracted to Youcef. He knows it, too. He knows she's so nervous around him. He probably enjoys the way he makes her so timid, I'm not even going to lie to you. He finds her attractive, too. They may have shared a kiss, but it was extremely PG. He's just way too intimidating for it to work but I do think they're compatible. Had he just been a philosophy professor... Thabi would have been a bit more confident but I think his job would have freaked her out. But they definitely had a connection. It was more intellectual and genuine than the one he had with Najuma, but it wasn't as strong as the one he has with MC.

Tiffany 🤝

I know that they could be coupled if you're with Will at some point, okay but... I don't see it. They give off friend vibes. They're not romantic at all. I mean I think Youcef respects her but we don't get to know Tiffany that well so this one was a tough call for me. Here's my opinion: he's cordial with her, he thinks she's stunning but... She's ultimately just an acquaintance at the end of the day. I think she rubbed him the wrong way with her joke about foodies, for one. Two, they seem to have some things in common and maybe he may laugh at a few jokes she tells, but again, I just see them having disagreements a lot (about whose job is harder, about honesty, etc.). He would go to a show of hers but he's not really going out of his way to stay friends and keep up with her life.

Tom 🤝

I'm sorry but Youcef does not like Tom. Let's talk about why: Tom is literally the only other male Islander who seems a bit more reserved, mature, etc. He's competition for Youcef and Youcef is pretty competitive (at least in my opinion). He helps Tom, yes, but probably because he just wanted an excuse to do a makeover. I think that as the season went, Tom grows on him. I think they might keep up outside the Villa but not as much as he would with Bruno, Thabi, and Najuma. Tom is quite a bit younger than Youcef, too, so I think Youcef is actually happy for Tom when he finds himself and feels comfortable to be himself. I think that's one thing Youcef admires in someone: just being comfortable and confident being you.

Valentina 🤝🔥

I know that Bruno is Youcef's canon best friend in the Villa (at least that's how it seems on a Bruno route) but I absolutely think that Valentina is his best friend in the Villa. They have so much common ground, they balance each other well. If you noticed in Most Likely To (23 I believe), he gives her advice. They're also together when preparing for the talent show in 32, then again in 40 when Dylan is getting his ass handed to him. Youcef and Valentina are best friends, it's canon. That's that. He's asking her about his outfits, she's asking him about what shade lipstick to wear. They definitely keep up outside the Villa, too. They talk about fashion, beauty. Youcef probably does things with Valentina for her blog/videos. I won't budge on this one, guys. Valentina and Youcef: best friends forever.

Although it's implied that Valentina was getting on well with Youcef before the recoupling in 17, I don't think they ever had a big spark. I think it was always friendly. She even said he just seemed nice and she wasn't sure. It was always platonic between these two. If they couple, it's a friendship couple.

Will 🤝🔥

So Will and Youcef being friends… Yes, they were. They’re both more artistic, I think they would have bonded over that. As the season goes, I think continue their friendship but I think they were closer with other Islanders (like Will was really close with Najuma for example, Youcef is close with Valentina). They keep up outside the show, they’re still friends and call/text. They’re definitely only platonic though, I think in the Villa they were able to quickly gage it wouldn’t work.

Will and Youcef were flirtatious, for sure. But that’s as far as it went. I don’t think there was anything past flirty banter between them. Outside the Villa, that might be a different story. But I still don’t think they would last long term either way. They think the other is attractive, however.

Youcef's Relationships According to Jessie's Husband:

He has no friends. He's a loser. His only friend is Jessie.

[birthdaymassacrez]

please tell ur followers abt frank 🥺 pewse slash

Ur so ill askin 4 Him

Francisco Emmanuel “Frank” Cochón

(Pictured w @mickadamz’s oc Hank Adams 💛)

* 42 by 1988

* 6’3 and built like a house but also someones dad.

* Bisexual

* His favorite animal are tigers

* loves rock like the boomer he is

* Born and raised most of his life in puerto rico. Struggled with learning english but now he has a better grasp on it. Still will forget some words and mutter on spanish until he finally remembers it

* Growing up, he looked up at his papa lot, his attitude and his work as a mechanic in the local repair shop he owned. His dad always said hed be the one to own it one day and Frank was kind of excited to continue the work his father had for him.

* Problem is ,because of the machismo going on at the time, Franks dad raised him to 1) never show emotions that made him look like a pussy or a queer (for example, crying) 2) that girls are more fragile and need more attention than boys (this was more through his behavior towards his two kids. Treating Marisol with all the love and affection possible while Frank barely got a thumbs up or ruffling of his hair). 3) if he showed a softer side then he was a (insert f slur here).

* His momma however, let him express himself however he wanted, showered him in affection whenever she could. He was her little man and no matter what she would be there to support him even though his litter sister was always the spotlight of affection in the house. He internalized that a little bit, and it bleeds into how he treats his sons vs how he treats his daughters.

* During his highschool years, when he was nothing but a troublemaker, knowing hes hot and using it to his advantage. But rn hes just “eh” abt his physical appearance, mostly caring abt his facial hair/hair in general

* He was in a band with a couple of friends! He released a few songs and a couple of albums with them. And through it, he met his first wife Valentina, one of the 3 women who managed to tie him down and think of a serious relationship. She was their biggest fan.

* He played the guitar! And nowadays keeps stuff from his old band in a big box at his house.

* He was “married” 3 times: His first wife, Valentina, his second wife Melissa n his last wife Jaida.

* He has 6 kids in total but he only knows (and raised) 4. Isaac “Izzy” Cochón(24) n Ángel Gabriel “Gabe” Cochón (18) with Valentina, Carolina “Lina” Cochón (13) with Melissa n María Isabel Cochón (5) with Jaida (More kidz depending on what au my brain decidez 2 fuck him up with )

* The scar on the right side on his face (left on the pic) was from a bar fight he had 2 separate during his side gig as a bouncer. He drove himself to the hospital while bleeding afterwards💔

* Right eye is fucked up bcs of that

* Like i said before, the behavior his dad had towardz him, bled onto how he treats his sons vs his daughters without him meaning to. Izzy doesnt want to talk to him, Gabe believes he doesn’t really care about him meanwhile Lina and María Isa love him Because of how he shows affection towards them. Like father like son 💛

* He cares deeply about his kids, trying to be the best dad towards them even if Gabe and Izzy shove him away, he shows he cares thru bringing up their interests and indulging w them <:3

* Has shared custody over the kids. One week at his house, one at their moms. All of them except with Izzy bcz hez a grown ass man

* He has painted nails because Lina always paints them for him.

* Even at his big age, he dresses up like a sleazy rockstar, many piercings, chains, ripped jeans, leather jackets, u kno the deal

* he doesnt look like it, hes a total romantic. Hes not actively trying to find somebody to love but hey who knows! He might find someone in the future… ;3

* loves physical activity. When he was younger he used to play for the soccer team in middle school, then his highschool baseball team n kept playing a lil until his early 20s. At his age hes fine with going to the gym.

[sourwormsaresour]

Headcanons on the type of pets La Squadra would own?

Holy shit this was too fun to make, especially with giving the pets names.

Sorbet and Gelato have their own Crusty-White-Dog™ that's a Maltese Terrier named Armani. The dog hates and barks nonstop at everything deemed threatening (aka, everyone and particularly the rest of La Squadra) and yet those two will claim she's the sweetest thing in the world. True to her name, they deck her with Armani branded clothes, either specially made dog fashion or they had a DIY done to make it look like an Armani outfit- down to the bright pink leash she wears dripping in the Armani logo. She eats the finest dry kibble and only drinks Ferrarelle Sparkling water; she will know the difference if you switch it up. She's the epitome of "I demand pets but only do so with your eyes" to everyone. Despite loving Sorbet and Gelato the most, she demands all their attention on her and she will cockblock those two if she catches them being affectionate to each other instead. Despite having a nice bed, she always sleeps between the two of them and will whimper if they kick her out of the bedroom so they can get intimate. Those tear-stained eyes always look like they've seen everything, despite being constantly babied by her owners. If Armani could, she would kill everyone.

Risotto, the biggest man in Vento Aureo, has a little Syrian hamster he called Ace. He thought that a pet with a shorter lifespan would allow him the perfect balance of having a pet but not being very attached to it compared to pets that live longer- he was wrong. If you ever come into Risotto's office as he worked, either you are greeted with Ace running around in his green hamster ball, walking around Risotto's desk as he worked, or running in the hamster wheel behind the desk. Ace's tank is an old Aquarium tank Pesci gave to Risotto that is now full of soft bedding, toys, and Risotto frequently cleans it. There are days where Risotto just spends hours watching his hamster walk around the room, eating little treats, and staring at Risotto with its beady eyes. It's gotten to the point where you can't walk into Risotto's office without noticing a lone sunflower seed or piece of bedding on the ground that Risotto didn't notice until you pointed it out. Every time Ace passes from old age, Risotto buys a new Syrian hamster and calls that one Ace. He hasn't kept track of how many hamsters that came and went so far, but treated every one of them as if they were the first Ace. He takes pictures of Ace doing the most relatively boring things and will share them with his members.

Illuso got a Sulphur-crested cockatoo named Scapino as a joke. He thought they didn’t require much attention but later felt bad when he found out that they need specific proper care. He proceeds to care for it as if it was his child. Illuso taught his bird how to speak and swear at people, specifically swearing at Formaggio and occasionally at Ghiaccio. This man will shower his bird with the best treats (expensive nuts, dried fruit, chicken bones) and has a special bar for it to perch on when they're in the shower together. This bird has free reign all over Illuso's place and wears a little anklet thing to verify that it has an owner should it escape. The two of them have spa days together and it’s one of the most wholesome things in the world to witness. Scapino will actually join Illuso on missions too, staying in the mirror world the whole time, and it provides him some comfort from his social anxiety. Sometimes Scapino sits on his shoulder as he walks. Illuso trained it to stay and hide in the mirror world so that it wouldn’t fly away or blow his cover when he’s working. But the bird will fly around in there and will watch anyone that’s getting murked in front of him with no remorse and commenting on it too. Imagine you’re dying in the mirror world and your last moment is this fucking bird looming over you going “night night, motherfucker”. JESUS CHRIST. 

Prosciutto used to be on the whole “pets are unnecessary” train but he had considered looking at breeders for the best quality dog. And then one rainy day he found an abandoned Portuguese Water Dog puppy in an alleyway and at Pesci’s insistence took it in. Turns out the puppy was bought by a rich family for their kid but then abandoned when the kid wasn't interested in it anymore. Prosciutto insisted that the dog was going to stay for one night and then sent to the pound first thing in the morning. It's been years now and the little dog is now a big fluffy good boy named Pon Pon. The second biggest chunk of Prosciutto's paycheck is for this dog; I'm talking grooming services with paw-ticures, an all-organic raw diet, the nicest beds that even a human would wish they can sleep on. Pon Pon is properly trained with all the basics and tricks, because Prosciutto doesn't want to deal with a misbehaving dog, but it will use puppy eyes against the old man now and then. He give you the best smiles if you call him a good boy and if you glance at the right time you can see Prosciutto smile for a brief moment. Had he lived longer, he would have made Pon Pon famous on Facebook like Boo the Dog. Prosciutto will also not admit that this dog has helped him get laid a few times, because every person he did bring home always got a kick out of Pon Pon.

Ghiaccio has a pet snake- an albino ball python named Bianco. Ghiaccio was also on the “pets are unnecessary” train too but mainly because he can't stand loud pets (i.e. Illuso and Sorbet and Gelato’s pets). When Risotto suggested he get a snake, Ghiaccio looked into it, researching and meticulously setting up the proper enclosure  and found himself going to a local reptile expo to find Bianco for sale. He’s fascinated by his snake to say the least, and would use leftover containers or Tupperware for Bianco to spend more money on proper equipment or food. Ghiaccio is really involved in online reptile forums and frequently debates with people on topics such as the best substrates to use, whether live rodents are better than frozen, ethics of breeding certain species, etc. He often gets worried when Bianco becomes picky and Ghiaccio would spend sleepless nights trying to get his baby to eat. Ghiaccio would walk around with his ball python wrapped around his neck or lets him slither around in his room under supervision but he mostly leaves him alone in the enclosure. There are times where he would claim he has the best, smartest pet and everyone just rolls their eyes like “yes the white fettuccine that got stuck in a toilet paper roll an hour ago is so smart”. But they let him rant about it. It’s kind of cute to say the least.

Pesci is the definition of people whose entire LIVELIHOOD is making his room into an aquarium. His room is full of strictly maintained, cleaned, and decorated tanks full of various types of aquatic animals. I’m talking Dwarf Puffers (Antonio, Portia, Jessica, Bassiano, and Solanio), Albino Gold Axolotls (Moe, Larry, and Curly), Red Ear Sliders (Franco and Ciccio), Clown Fishes (Browser, Mario, Toadstool, and Koopa), Brazilian Sea Horses (Tom and Jerry), a Blue Betta Fish named Valentina in a 30+ gallon aquaponics tank that grows a variety of plants each season- to name a few. He rebuilt his entire room to keep everything running and even had Melone help him set up timers for lighting and temperature control. Pesci will cry if you somehow made the pH level off by 1 or did not care for his animals properly when he’s away. He’ll even lecture you about bad tank setup. He's a prominent member of the aquarium  community in Italy and will regularly redecorate each tank to suit the year and mood. This is where he’s spending his cut on the 20 million lira job: caring for his mini aquarium room. He occasionally gives away his pets’ offsprings for extra money (he doesn’t breed but sometimes he ends up having a ton of baby animals he can’t take care of) and would have been a YouTuber for his fish content. Now that I think about it, Pesci reminds me of my mutual @nexter2nd. Please go follow them.

Melone has a Holland Lop bunny and you cannot change my mind. He actually had a pet bunny growing up, another Holland Lop named Echo and Grep, and his current one is named Sudo; all three are named after UNIX commands. He has a large dog crate he diy-ed to be a roomy enclosure in his room for her that he cleans frequently but also allows Sudo free reign of the room when she wants to go out. Because of his job, he makes sure all his wires are covered so his bunny isn't tempted to chew them and watches his bunny diligently whenever she roams around. Easter time is when the denim jacket, pastel bows, and flower crowns come out and Melone makes sure to take a lot of photos. He also housetrained his bunny and taught her a few tricks, similar to how he trained Echo and Grep years ago. Sudo is spoiled in terms of getting a lot of pets, new toys, and feasts on the finest veggies and delicious hay. Melone also makes sure the first thing he teaches his Juniors is to not harm the bunny. Surprisingly, he's against breeding Sudo and has her neutered. This is mainly because he doesn't have the time to breed and raise more bunnies but also he hates the idea of selling the grown bunnies off afterward. 

You know that Formaggio has a cat: the little Russian Blue cat named Sweetie Baby. Sweetie Baby was a kitten that he found outside his home. The little thing was the sole survivor of its litter and nearly starving to death, so he took her in thinking he will bring her to the shelter when she recovers; that cat now lets him live in HER apartment rent-free. Despite feeding her cheap dry food and constantly shoving her into bottles, he treats her like a queen otherwise. He will dress her up in little outfits (much to her annoyance) and often would be too aggressively affectionate towards her. Still, there are moments where she would cuddle with him during the later nights and allow him to put on one iced-out bow he just spent a quarter of his paycheck on. Walking to his apartment and even the backdoor of La Squadra’s HQ means carefully walking through the stray cats mewling at your feet, because Formaggio will feed any cat he sees. Initially, Risotto wanted the cats gone, but then he finds out the cats doubled as security when he watched some robber attempting to break in but getting their eyes scratched off instead.

[niqhtlord01]

Surprised to see me again fighting fans? So am I! I found a way to turn myself invisible for a while, but turning yourself visible again becomes that much harder when you can’t see your hands anymore. Now that I’m back though it’s time to get this fighting train of death and quips rolling again! This week we have a new contender stepping into the ring. Hailing from parts unknown and who lists their residency as “inside a stick”; let’s give a warm welcome to one of the sassiest men alive who could make you question yourself with but a blink of an eye, give it up for Ambrosius!

 Ambrosius: *Cloud of smoke appears and he twirls into existence* Roman: *Looks at cigar, then Ambrosius, then throws it down* Should’ve given these up earlier. Ambrosius: Don’t worry, you’re not hallucinating. Roman: *Raises cane, gun cap opens* Says the 7ft tall blue naked man floating before me, of course you’re real. ---------------------------------------------------------------

Ambrosius: *Cloud of smoke appears and he twirls into existence* Don: I wore blue before you, so you’ll need to change. Ambrosius: Ah ha, this is my skin if you haven’t notice. Don: *Draws sword* Then I guess I’ll just have to skin you. ----------------------------------------------------------------

Ambrosius: *Cloud of smoke appears and he twirls into existence* Tucker: Yo dude, bdsm night is Thursday you idiot. Ambrosius: You do know I am an ethereal being of almost unlimited power, right? Tucker: *draws energy sword* More like a thirsty bitch who can’t keep it in his pants. -----------------------------------------------------------------

Cammie: *Walks in and picks up nugget from the ground* Ambrosius: *Floats down to study nugget* My my my! What a fascinating contraption you have there. Cammie: Jesus fuck’n Christ; what the hell are you!? Ambrosius: *pouts and crosses arms* A being of ultimate power made by the hands of gods; so, you know, nothing special. ------------------------------------------------------------------

Ambrosius: *Cloud of smoke appears and he twirls into existence* Salem: What plans I have for you. Ambrosius: If one of them is to find a skin care treatment darling I hate to say but even I have my limits. Salem: *Grim arms start sprouting from ground* A foolish tool made by foolish gods indeed. --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Nomad: *Walks in, wind blowing poncho* Ambrosius: I can’t make anything unless tell me what it is you want. Nomad: *Shrugs and waves hands* Ambrosius: *nods* Alright we can play Pictionary afterwards then. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Caboose: *Walks in holding freckles* Ambrosius: What an interesting machine you have there. *Floats in for closer look* Freckles: Proximity warning triggered! Hostile action commencing! Caboose: No! Bad freckles! Stop it! No hospitable actions inside the house! Ambrosius: *backs off slowly* Maybe later then. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Valentina: *removes invisibility cloak* Ambrosius: I hear you like to experiment. Valentina: I was never one to be tied down by the limits of my body. Ambrosius: *smiles* If you have some ideas, I’d love to hear them afterwards. -----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Neo: *Walks in twirling umbrella* Ambrosius: I don’t know what part of “explain what you want” is being misunderstood, but you people need to actually talk to me for me to make something. Neo: *Pouts* Ambrosius: *Sighs* Your people can make a hammer turn into a grenade launcher yet somehow sign language is lost on you; no wonder your species is doomed. -----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ambrosius: *Cloud of smoke appears and he twirls into existence* Sarge: I knew this day would come! *cocks shotgun* Ambrosius: So did I after looking at a calendar, but do go on. Sarge: I finally get to kill the god of all blues! HEEYA!!!!!! ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ambrosius: *Cloud of smoke appears and he twirls into existence* Toth: The Don will have use of your powers. Ambrosius: You could as well, if you knew what you wanted. Toth: *Hesitates* I……I just want them to survive. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Julian: *Hologram appears* Ambrosius: I’ve not seen one like you before. Julian: That’s cause I’m one of a kind. Ambrosius: *smirks* Are you so sure? ----------------------------------------------------------------------------- Ironwood: *Walks in loading gun* Ambrosius: Well if it isn’t floating city man; what is it this time?  Ironwood: I want you to make me a bomb. Ambrosius: *stops smirking* And so the cycle begins again. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Ambrosius: *Cloud of smoke appears and he twirls into existence* Dr. Grey: Can I take a sample of you? Ambrosius: That depends entirely on the reasons behind your need.  Dr. Grey: *Evil glint in helmet* Have you ever heard of a replicator? 

[cherryblossomtease]

In The Fairest Season ~ Part 2

18+only

warnings summary masterlist

~JUNE~

The first time you sing for the Baron you haven’t even met him yet. In fact, you have no idea that he is in the audience.

Your solo, the lone aria not sung by Serena, the lead vocalist who will never let anyone forget it, opens the second act and it is your chance to show the world, or at least the city, that you are meant for greater things.

You give the song everything you have. Living it, breathing it, exhaling it out across that stage until the audience is moved to tears. You can’t see them for the lights, but you can feel it.

Follow that, you think as you glide offstage, passing the undeserving diva who strong armed her way to top billing. You don’t like to fight amongst your own kind, but if she suddenly lost her ability to speak you wouldn’t be sad about it.

Curtain call confirms your intuition. You are pulled front and center by your cast-mates and their own applause is drown out by the roar of the crowd.

The people love you.

Accepting your praise with a truly humble heart, you curtsy under a wave of roses. All the while, one man sits watching from a private box.

He is the last to stand. Not because he disagrees with the ovation, but because he’s been rendered immobile since the moment you opened your mouth.

You didn’t know it then and neither of you would be certain right away, but it is clear to any who see the way he looks at the aspiring songbird dipping low as she thanks the audience with tears in her eyes— Baron Helmut Zemo is already falling in love with you.

While finding out as much as he can about you is easy for a man like the Baron, your only knowledge of him is gained the same way as most outside of the elite circles— through rumors and whispers— and those tell the tale of a powerful man who has gained the love and devotion of his fellow soldiers and countrymen while at war with an enemy state. Though some say his tactics were less than honorable…

Either way their war was too distant, both in time and setting to matter to anyone here, but it changed the Sokovian people forever, reshaping the land and claiming so many lives.

Zemo’s wife and child among them.

You’d heard the story in passing and found it heartbreaking but hadn’t felt the need to think of it again until today, thanks in large part to the kindness of Colonel Nicholas Fury and his wife, the Lady Valentina a former Countess through marriage with a taste for danger. It comes as little surprise to those in the know that the Colonel, or his Lady wife would know someone like the Baron, who happens to be a former Colonel himself, though there are many secrets kept about their history and just how such a friendship was made.

Today however, none of it matters as the Colonel and Lady Valentina are holding a lovely benefit for the local children’s home, and while it is a reason to show off their mysterious guest, as the Baron will be staying with the pair for the season, you’d agreed to entertain long before rumors of this Baron began to make the rounds. The Colonel pays prices most girls won’t see after a month of work, and with nothing expected from you but your voice at its best and your personality front and center to charm the upper class, this is the sort of performance you look forward to.

Accompanied by piano in the grand solarium, the performance is by your own standards a very good one; Understated, gentle on the ear, but, as is evidence by the looks on the faces of the Lords and Ladies in attendance, no less impactful.

“Haunting” Is what you’re told by those who greet you afterwards and you wear that word like a badge of honor over your heart as you mingle.

It is between sets while standing at the piano that you feel the lightest touch on your shoulder.

Fingertips, brushing your bare skin with a hesitancy but such longing that your attention is grabbed instantly.

You’ve been touched like this before, but this is different—you turn around feeling curiosity instead of dread.

You aren’t quite sure how long it takes you to speak. Maybe it’s seconds, perhaps some minutes or more before you find your words, the point is, time feels irrelevant.

His gaze is as bold as the sun and you are held there, left to feel the trails of heat along your skin in the wake of it—up your arms, across your shoulders and neck, your lips— you’ve never had a man look at you this way before and not felt the urgent need to run. Instead, you take a step forward.

“Madame. Allow me to introduce his Lordship, Baron Helmut Zemo.” The Colonel announces.

With a slow bow of your head you lower into a small curtsey to show respect for the man above your station. Your eyes lift to meet his as you rise up and watch his mouth curl into a hint of a smile.

“Madame y/n” He exhales when he says your name as though he is relieved to know it and you feel the little hairs on the back of your neck rise as if he’s whispered in your ear. “It is an honor.”

You smile and thank him “The honor is of course mine, my Lord Baron.”

“After today I’ve had the privilege of watching you perform twice now. But I was beginning to fear I might never meet you in the flesh.”

Something about his choice of words makes you feel warm all over. “It seems the stars have aligned and brought us together after all.” You say with a genuine smile.

He gives a hint of a laugh and glances at Fury. “Yes a, Man shaped constellation” He teases making the Colonel grin.

“Forgive me Barron Zemo,” You say a little timid. “I hope I don’t embarrass you or myself by speaking freely, but… your accent? Please, tell me the name of your country. I’ve heard it said before but can quite recall.” You’re unable to hold back your curiosity and the way he forms words has you eager to know more.

“Ah.” He flashes a quick smile. “Well, you see I am only here to visit my friend as you know.” He says glancing at Fury. “A summer abroad. A summer away…” You catch a hint of sadness but he presses on. “I am from Sokovia. A small country but there is none that can compare to its beauty.”

“Sokovia?” You say it slowly “Yes, in passing I’ve heard it said but I am ashamed to say I could not point to it on a map. Though I’m sure it’s as beautiful as the tone you take when speaking of it.” You pause to look him in the eye. “I can hear the love you hold for your homeland in your voice Baron.” You are being polite but the truth is, you are struck by it. He has a sort of rasping tenor that comes out in a hesitant whisper, as though he wants to say more but fears saying too much.

I can take it, you think and find yourself drawing your bottom lip between your teeth as you study his. He has a wonderfully wide mouth and the way his lips move when he speaks is hypnotic.

“I will never hide my love for my country. Not after everything we have been through.” He says.

You smile reading between the lines. “I see that. And while I’m only a singer who has had her travel limited.” You admit. “I hope to perform across the world. Tell me the best Sokovian stage Baron and perhaps I will stand on it one day.” You say, aware of how eager you sound but know that it’s the truth.

The Colonel laughs like all wealthy men do when they hear the dreams of women, but the Baron does not. No, he looks at you as though you’ve just spoken your deepest desires aloud and he feels blessed to have heard them.

“One day, yes. Perhaps you will.” He says and you hope he doesn’t notice how your breath catches in your throat, but the way his eyes fix on yours makes you feel seen.

The three of you fall silent and you’re very aware of Colonel Fury watching the two of you. You see his coy smile from the corner of your eye and its clear that he thinks the Baron will have you down to your stockings by the days end, but nothing is further from the truth.

Baron Zemo doesn’t try to take your dress off, not even when you wander inside and into the library alone with him. Instead he listens to you tell stories about the parts of your life that are easy to share and with what seems to be genuine interest.

You tell him about your mother who was a singer before you, though she never made it to the big stage. You still send money home to her and your sweet father who is too sick to work but still manages to paint when he’s feeling up to it.

“So you are the product of true love.” He says and while there is an edge to his voice, he is not trying to tease. You feel him watching you touch the spines of the many books along the shelves in the dimly lit room.

“Why do you say that?” You ask, your back still to him.

“A singer and an artist who marry do it for no other reason.” He says, confident in his statement. You can hear the smile in his voice and your own grows across your face. Coming from anyone else this would be an insult. Coming from him, it turns your ordinary origins into something romantic.

“Love, with the hope of fame and money.” You correct with a smirk and find him over your shoulder.

He is standing in the light of the large south facing window and you have no choice but to turn and face him. It’s nearly unfair that any man should be so beautiful.

You’d noticed the way the other women in attendance looked at him in his exquisite jacket and vest, looking the very picture of fashionable victorian masculinity; and done without effort it would seem. Just his natural air of confidence. Honestly you’re convinced Zemo could make a workhouse uniform look like the kings cape.

What would those women do now, you wonder. With his brown hair looking almost black in the library shadows, so thick and pretty as it falls in his eyes in lovely contrast to his fair skin.

As the clouds part and a strong band of light breaks through the windows casting a warm glow over the man, you smile imagining the socialites batting their lashes and dipping into quaint curtsies to attract him, but it seems none can manage to take his eyes from you…

They would all say it’s because you’re a stage whore, a woman of ill repute with the gift of song. But they are wrong. They always are.

“Tell me Baron Zemo, how long did you say you’ll be staying” You ask crossing the room to step into the sun with him.

He looks down at you and you notice for the first time the flecks of gold in his eyes. “I must return at the end of August.”

“Oh.” You look away. It’s already June.

His body language changes a bit, like someone has splashed cold water over him and he goes stiff. Quickly as if desperate to do so, he takes hold of your hand which startles you as much as it excites you. You try not to let him see the way he’s made your own body respond but your heart threatens to leap from your chest.

“Would it be forward of me to ask you to join our small party for dinner this coming Saturday?”

Your eyes dart up finding such hope in his. “Not at all. So long as you understand what it is you’re asking?” You hate to turn the mood, it was so nice, but this needs to be said.

“What do you mean?”

“Well dinner with a performer of course. I suppose it could be seen as the Colonel’s kindness… but Baron please don’t tell me you’re so naive to the ways of the country you summer in.”

He gives you a curious frown “I forget where I am often. Your ways here will always be a little strange. You see in Sokovia, to possess a gift such as yours would see you walk among the people who look down on you here. We lift those better than ourselves up in my country.”

You feel light headed at the idea. Imagine being seen as important for what you are born with, and not for what you are born into. “It sounds wonderful.” You say, fully aware of how soft your voice is when you’re standing so close to him.

Him, this man you do not know. You pull your hand free from his.

Taking a step back you give a small curtsy. “I must go back, we have a few more songs to perform, but thank you for the walk, and for the invitation. I look forward to it!”

He smiles politely and offers to escort you, but you know better. No need ruining his reputation or starting rumors about your own.

You go back to the solarium and take up your place next to the piano and proceed to sing the heartbreaking aria that can decimate even the strongest of defenses.

Your eyes scan the room as you sing, finding hapless victims to serenade until finally you land on the Barron standing behind the rows of chairs.

The man is stricken by your words of love and loss and you think perhaps you could have warned him about your song.

When you find him again, it is an accident.

You’d gone off looking for your pianist when you find the Baron standing alone in the garden just off the parlor.

You almost speak but notice the way he stands there without moving. He is looking down at a bush of flowers; large white Lillies.

You brace against the doorframe and lean in to watch him for a moment before you realize… he raises his hand and wipes a tear before slipping it back into his pocket.

Tears over flowers? No. Not flowers, and then you understand. The war you know nothing of, took everything from him.

You feel guilty. Of all the songs you had to sing you chose the one that could break a healthy heart, what had it done to this shattered thing probably held together by nothing more than string and sheer determination.

Your own ached for him and you’d never longed to hold anything or anyone so much in your life, but you did not know him yet and quietly slipped back inside.

Your last interaction with the Baron that afternoon had been no more than a sweet goodbye, but your thoughts are preoccupied with him over the week.

You find your self thinking of the way he’d touched your shoulder while you dress for your performances, and onstage when you shut your eyes you see his looking back at you, golden in the sun.

When Saturday comes around, you ignore the teasing of your best friend Brigitte who watches the way you’re fussing over your hair and pinching your cheeks after dressing in the small apartment you share with her over the theatre. Thankfully no one keeps watch over the costumes and so you wear the pale yellow dress from last years production that you think looks best against your skin.

Brigitte asks if he’s proposed yet just to set you off, but only because she’s never seen you nervous, but then she’s never seen you so excited over a man. Presumably because none has ever managed to hold your attention for so long.

The carriage arrives to pick you up and you try desperately not to be won over by the fact that he’s sent his own.

You know that it is his.

You run your hand along the silk lined walls, inhaling deeply, picking up the faintest scent of his cologne as you sink into the seat. Your smile grows wide with no one there to see as the driver sitting high above steers the horses through the city streets, the light jostle inside keeping you alert as you imagine the Baron standing at the threshold of the estate waiting for you. It begins to feel wonderfully indecent to be surrounded by him so intimately.

And what would it feel like if he really did hold  you close? Would it feel this warm and safe? Would you rest in his arms as you do his carriage, rushing past the world feeling untouchable?

Your eyes close for a moment; you are lost in a sea of daydreams until a wheel hits a large hole that jolts you back to reality.  Eyes going wide, you quickly blow out the tension built up in your chest through your lips and shake you head trying not to smile.  The man has held your hand one time old girl. Calm down!

You are still flushed and breathing hard when you arrive. When you see Baron Zemo waiting for you in the hall of the estate, in his dinner jacket and tie, you feel as though he knows every indecent thought you had on that incredible ride through town. If he does however, the Baron does not humiliate you, only showers you with complements on your appearance tonight.

And though the night is perfection, dinner in the city would not be dinner without a scandal. And so it goes that yours is candlelit and ripe for the pamphlets.

Colonel and Lady treat you as their guest of honor, though it is the Baron who attracts the attention of the others in attendance.

As he escorts you to the dining room, Baron Zemo dares to whisper in your ear. “If I could have entertained you and you alone, I would have made it so. But this is —not allowed —on these foreign shores.” He says and you see the way his dark gaze fixes ahead. You aren’t sure if it is Lord or Lady who earns his contempt but all you can do is hold back your laughter.

“It’s perfectly fine. The rules are there for them, so long as I am in their world I will play along. To be perfectly honest Baron… ” You look up at him in the door way and he lays his hand over yours, resting in the crook of his elbow. “This is exquisite.” You say. He smiles looking a little relieved and you notice that he’s been watching your lips as you speak and you feel yourself blush.

That however is not the moment to cause the scandal. Nor does it come from the Baron expressing his rather progressive views which he offers up like a complement to the soup course. It comes when he asks your opinion and you, shock of all shocks, give it.

The Lady Hawthorn who is also in attendance tries to cut you off, but the Baron hushes her and urges you to go on.

With him backing you, you find yourself feeling quite free to express your desire to see all people treated equally, and end your monologue by announcing that you know such a utopia could never exist so long as the wealthy are pleased and the poor too overworked to notice. This sends the Lady over the edge and Fury into a fit of laughter.

Only Baron Zemo hears the truth and he looks at you through the deep yellow glow of candlelight with pride.

Unfortunately that, is not what they print.

Rising star flies too close to the sun

“What a ridiculous thing to say” You huff carrying an armful of gowns over to the mirror in the little dressing area of your apartment.

“Maybe, but you’ll sing to a packed house tonight” Brigitte grins as she lounges on the settee in the middle of the small but colorfully decorated room. “The audience loves a spectacle.” Her French accent makes everything sound cute but it is nothing short of annoying in the moment.

“It’s hardly a spectacle Brigitte. Just bored, sad, empty headed people with nothing better to do than twist your well thought out words and opinions. My, well thought out words and opinions.” You speak with conviction while trying to ignore the sinking sense of embarrassment as you hold each dress up over your underclothes, one at a time. You are angry of course, those damned pamphlets are nothing more than a way for them to openly indulge in gossip and cruelty about you and your kind. Granted you’re not above reading them from time to time and this isn’t the first experience you’ve had with being a feature (poor Lord Quinn. He did fall in love so easily) but this is the first time that you care.

“You’re quite the radical aren’t you.” Brigitte says sitting up and sipping her tonic.

“Yes, a woman with an opinion, how will the world move on.” You roll your eyes and sling the yellow dress aside.

“Those aren’t costumes.” Brigitte says suspiciously and sits up on her knees, her arms hanging over the back of the sofa.

You look at her in the mirror and sigh. “No. I can’t keep borrowing them and besides, these aren’t for the stage.”

She’s waiting but you hesitate. “Tell me! Who are they for? It’s him right? Your Baron.”

“He isn’t mine.” You scold. “But yes, Baron Zemo has asked me to accompany him to the festival tomorrow night, and…” You pause glancing at yourself in the mirror. “I’ve said yes.”

“Of course you have, silly girl.” Brigitte giggles and gets up, coming over to you. She stands at your back, her long elegant fingers resting on your shoulders. She presses her cheek to yours and you feel the swell of love for your oldest friend rise.

The two of you have been through so much together. From escaping the cruel and often times corporal punishment of St. Augustine’s school for girls, to the deadly grasp of the streets. You’d been fighting along side one another until you both managed to sing your way onto the stage.

While Brigitte is technically better, you’re the one who sings with heart and that small edge is why your likeness will hang from the posts and not hers, but she is your friend in all things and as you gain notoriety, you have every intention of bringing her right along with you.

“I don’t know why I think anything will come of it. He’s a Baron for goodness sake.” You say scrunching your nose up at the lavender dress.

Brigitte is waiting, knowing you’ll answer your own suspicions.

“But, he looks at me and it’s as though these barriers don’t exist. I might as well be the daughter of a Duke when he smiles.”

“In his eyes, perhaps you are.” She says kindly. “Now, put those dresses away, you’ll wear my white one and look nothing less than angelic tomorrow. Tonight, you’ll sing like one and win your place in the Barons heart for good.”

As fate would have it, Baron Zemo was not at the performance last night. It means nothing though, that much is clear. He is as taken with you as you almost allow yourself to be with him. It is a dangerous game you play, one that could see you broken by the end of summer, but it is so hard to stay away…

You stroll causally behind The Colonel and Lady Fury through the park grounds along the pea gravel paths lit by paper lanterns with sparks flying from swirling machines and flames that shoot up from small bonfires.

Brigitte and your friend Eloise are bringing up the rear, but it feels as though there isn’t another soul alive. Just you and him and the beautiful menagerie that surrounds you.

The festival is one you’ve heard of but never attended and you’re almost happy you never have because as far as firsts go this one is magic.

A show of sight and sound engages every sense. There are acrobats, jugglers, stilt walkers and sword swallowers. You smell the food being sold from small carts and hear the music of the far off bandstand. You have a hard time not running around like a child as you point and shriek at the shocking, and squeal with delight at the fun. Each beautiful display of oddities and wonder that seem to never phase the Baron amaze you, though he does take great joy in watching your reaction.

When a fire breather spits yellow flames in your path, you jump back with a scream grabbing Zemo’s arm which makes him laugh.

You’re suddenly aware of how jovial his voice can be and when you look up, he smiles like you’ve never seen before and closes his hand over yours.

You think he might let go, but instead he begins to walk again, happy to keep you close.

You take in the sights on either side of the lawn, until it all begins to feel like a dream. Perhaps it was the champagne you had on arrival…

“Thank you my Lord, I’ll never forget this night.” You say under the cover of a trellis dripping with wisteria just outside of the wonderful chaos.

“It has been quite the show” He says looking back at the distant festivities before settling on you again. He quickly takes off his black topper, his hair falling into his eyes. “Unlike anything I’ve ever seen” He says looking at you with such an intensity that you can not hold the eye contact. You smile and look away spotting a servant with a large tray of champagne stacked like a pyramid of glowing gold.

Baron Zemo sees how you look at it and waves him over, taking two glasses from the top giving one to you, and raising his glass in salute.

“What do we drink to?” You ask.

Zemo thinks while looking into your eyes. Finally he raises the glass a little higher. “To the continuation of our friendship.”

You feel your cheeks flush and your mouth go a little dry. To declare a friendship between you is something you almost wish he wouldn’t say, but, it’s already been done. Still, what future can there truly be, you wonder looking up at this man who, had you been born into a wealthy family would have been yours weeks ago. But then, something about the Baron tells you not to fixate on what could have been, and to always expect the unexpected.

The sound of your glasses clinking is drown out by the boom of fireworks in the distance.

You tip your glass and drink. The champagne is sweet and cold and bubbly. You swallow with a smile only to shut your eyes when he strokes your cheek with the back of his hand, his thumb daring to glide across your bottom lip.

You inhale the moment and open your eyes to find his wanting, but not here. Not yet.

“To our future.” You say, needing him to know that you wish to push forward.

The Baron nods and takes another drink, watching you do the same over his glass. “I must insist on seeing you again, you understand?” He asks as he finishes.

“Yes of course.” You say. “I have one week, and then the show continues.” You tell him feeling sorry for it. It’s not easy to balance a life on and off the stage, in fact you’ve never really had too before, but for him you will try.

“A week.” He says it with finality. “Then let us have this week as our own.”

The next few days are a whirlwind of unforgettable moments. You are convinced any other man would be trying to impress you with his knowledge and access to things privy only to someone of his status, but with the Baron it feels as though he simply enjoys sharing his world.

From a private showing of the Kings’ collection of antiquities, to a small garden reading by one of your favorite authors who Baron Zemo happens to know personally, you spend your time together as near equals, exchanging ideas and thoughts as easily as you would with your oldest friends. It surprises you to find it so easy to speak to a man you’re only just starting to know.

Perhaps that is because he never once reminds you of the gap between your status. You are cautious to believe anything a man of such wealth says, but when the Baron speaks he seems to do so truthfully, and when he listens, he does so without judgement.

“How is it my Lord, that you seem to rise above the constraints of society while moving through it so elegantly?” You ask as he escorts you home to the theatre one evening.

You are arm in arm, the lamps are lit and the air has a certain joie de vivre that radiates from the passersby. You smile and nod hello to a couple before looking up at the Baron’s handsome profile. He walks in silence for a while and you know him well enough by now to understand that he is just thinking before speaking, which is something you greatly admire.

“I hope my manner is not offensive.” He says with a deep frown. “I simply wish to be as honest with you as possible. To pretend that I see you as someone unworthy of my attention would be a lie.”

You turn your face to hide your giddy smile but he stops walking, your hand slipping from his coat.

Confused, you spin to face him. “Baron? What is it?”

“Do not hide.” He says in all seriousness. “Your face, it’s so expressive. There is such an openness in the way you show your emotion and I fear someone has told you to keep it hidden?” He asks and you avert your eyes instinctively but quickly look back up at him.

Feeling sure, you confess. “When my parents were too poor to keep me, I was sent to Augustines as I’ve mentioned. It was there I was taught that to show joy is a sin. To cry is a sin, to be angry is a sin. Frustration, even a simple smile, all sins. Everything beautiful about who we are as living creatures must be suppressed” You say, still bitter.

The Baron scoffs shaking his head. “Nothing is a sin when you stop believing that there is someone to sin against. Your smile is a gift mala ptica, a glimpse at your pure heart, just as your tears are an expression of the pain you feel inside. People can be very cruel, and I am sorry you were ever told such lies.” He says and you see that it truly hurts him to picture you as a child, scolded for what comes naturally. “Please, do not feel as though you ever need to hide either from me. If I am the reason you smile, then I consider myself to be a fortunate man.” He pauses, looking at you as people pass by. “Conversely If I ever make you cry, well, the pain of hurting you will be my deserved punishment.” He says and though you stand apart on the dark sidewalk, you feel the warmth of his affection reach out and close its arms around you, holding you close enough that you can hear the drumming of his heart.

The week ends with a picnic, just a small luncheon taken outside with all the delightful indulgence of the spoiled upperclass.

You sit at the edge of a large blanket, covered by a spread of fruit and cheese and bread. There are biscuits and cakes, small sandwiches and of course tea— and what looks to be chopped pheasant being carried out by a young servant all the way from the house. You are thankful for the shade of the ancient tree you sit under with the women; Lady Valentina, her neighbor, who has brought her daughter-in-law, and their two cousins, all of you laughing as the men play a lazy but entertaining game of rugby in their shirts, their jackets thrown down in the grass.

You applaud for the Baron and Lord Wessex the neighbor’s son who has come home for a quick visit with his wife. They make a great team, and though the Baron insists he’s too old for sport—which he is most certainly not— he is fast and strong and shows just a glimpse of the man he must have been during the war.

“He cuts quite the figure.” One of the cousins says to the other with a wicked little grin.

You eye her prim face, almost jealous but the energy would be wasted. You know who he smiles at as he crosses the lawn.

“Yes, but I hear he’s engaged.” Says the other

“Oh? To who? Certainly not to anyone here.” Lady Valentina says sipping from her cup.

You are silent as you watch these women who you know in name only. You don’t know their hearts, but you guess them to be as cold as the pheasant.

“No. A Sokovian Duchess I believe.” The cousin says and you stare at her.

“Then why on earth is he here?” The daughter-in-law asks.

“Must not be a very happy engagement.” The cousin says, her tittering laughter joined by the others.

You smile but set your tea down and look over, watching Baron Zemo toss the large ball across the lawn to his partner. He trots backwards and calls something out, clapping a few times before stopping and resting his hands on his knees. As though he can sense your eyes on him, he looks over from his bent position, that lock of hair fallen out of place.

He told you just a day or so ago to never hide your feelings from him, and so you don’t. Honestly, given what you’ve just heard, you couldn’t if you tried.

You can only imagine how you must look because he stands upright, rakes his hair back with his fingers and stares at you, his own face long, his jaw tight.

He knows something has happened. Immediately the Baron calls for a break in the game.

You look away eyeing the women. “Please, excuse me. I believe my legs are going a little numb.” You shrug, feigning a smile at the ladies and quickly get up, brushing your skirts and walking off.

“Poor circulation from all that time standing onstage.” You hear one of them say.

“And lying on her back” Another whispers loudly to the shocked laughter of the others.

The insult stings, more so than it normally would, and you shut your eyes as you march off towards the house ready to leave.

Of course they think you’re just here playing the whore to the rakish Baron. Why you ever thought they would accept you as their own or that he would be better than the rest is beyond you.

But what truly shames you, is that you believe their gossip, even after spending time with him. And why shouldn’t you? Isn’t this what men do? Lie? Especially to women of your profession.

It’s when you’ve reached the manicured part of the lawn that you realize you’re hardly breathing and that your heart feels like it’s been run through with one of the picnic bread knives. You clutch your chest, angry at the pain as the tears that well in your eyes burn, and you curse yourself for letting him have such an effect on you at all.

“Wait.”

You gasp, startled by his voice vibrating deep in your own chest as he has come up on you by surprise; his body so close to yours you feel his breath along your neck as he takes you by the arms and pulls you into the shaded privacy of the garden trees before you can protest.

He turns you around and the look on his face is a mix of curiosity and worry, to which you find yourself surprisingly angry. “What’s happened? What have they said to you?” He asks.

“What’s wrong Baron? Are you worried that I’ve found out?” You ask and move to wipe your eyes, but you let him see, just as he’s insisted.

“Found out? mala ptica, I don’t know what you mean.”

“Don’t you?”

He just stares down and you realize you’ve never seen him confused before. “Baron? What do you think they said?”

“Some insult? A way to make you feel inferior as seems to be their casual form of amusement.” He says clearly very angry and possibly ready to march back and defend you.

You feel your anger falter. This is unexpected and you shake your head. Now you’re the one confused. “No. Baron… I—I’m afraid I’ve made something of a fool of myself if you truly have no fear of any secret being found out?” Your voice rises as you question it.

“You are not a fool y/n” He says with a hint of irritation in his voice.

You look down, steadying yourself before looking back up into his eyes. “I never expected anything from you, you know? Your friendship has been nothing short of wonderful, but I fear that in getting to know you, I’ve found it impossible not to let my romantic heart lead the way. But what can we expect from a product of love.” You toss your hands up flashing a sardonic smile.

The Baron steps forward and your eyes close reflexively when he lays his palm to your cheek. “What have you heard? Tell me.”

“That you are engaged.” You answer not wanting to prolong it. “To a Sokovian Duchess no less.”

He smiles, looks off then back down at you and you hope he never stops the gentle, rhythmic stroking of your face. “I was, and it was a mistake. I broke it off before I doomed us both to a loveless marriage.”

“I was under the assumption that people of your wealth marry to acquire more of it.”

“You assume wrong.” He says even closer “It is beneficial, but, should I ever marry again, it will be for nothing less than a love to repair what is left of my heart.”

You’re breathing faster. He is so close. It seems to happen so quickly. One moment you’re ready to leave, angry and hating that you’ve even come, embarrassed that you’ve been swayed by a Lords influence. And the next you’re standing in his shadow gazing up into his eyes…

“May I kiss you?” He asks in a way that would be very hard to refuse.

“You may” You whisper. His fingers inch along to the back of your head, his other hand pulls you in by the waist until his hips are pressed against you and his lips part; the heat of his skin so warm from running touching you before his mouth does.

It is the force and passion of his kiss that surprises you. Not overly aggressive or unwanted, it is unexpected, as though he has been longing to do this as badly as you have and now, he can not let another second pass without tasting more of you.

His tongue on your own is warm and soft as he gently enters your mouth and it is not the demure touch of society but of two people who feel a great many things, not the least of which is an urgency to do more.

The Baron pulls away, your lips leaving his slowly. You look at your hands resting on his chest over his white shirt. His cravat is a little askew letting you see a hint of skin and the shimmer of a very thin necklace that makes your stomach flutter. Your eyes flit up to meet his as he exhales very slowly.

“Thank you mala ptica” He says and kisses your forehead and you think there are many reasons for him to say this, but for now you let it be, though something else has always made you wonder…

“What does that mean?” You ask curious, eyes closed

He leans back to see your face. “What?”

“Mala… mala ti..”

“Mala ptica” He says with an amused smile. “It means—little bird actually.”

You scrunch your nose wondering why this is what he’s taken too calling you and he chuckles a little with a sigh. “Your voice is like the song of a bird, a thing of natural beauty. Forgive me for having been so familiar. It—slipped out.” He says simply.

You grin, you can’t help it and close your hands to fists in his shirt and pull him down kissing him again.

It is hard and fast but he is a most willing partner.

When you let the Baron go, you bite at the corner of your lip feeling such an urge to go down to the cool grass with him here and now, understanding why everyone seems so preoccupied by it, but the truth is no man has had you and you refuse to be the woman they expect you to be. You will not succumb, not even for a Baron, not even for this one. But he will challenge you to no end.

He smooths his hands over your face and sighs. “What now hmm?”

You mimic his movements smoothing the wrinkles you’ve caused in his shirt. “I can not go back. I don’t belong here.” You tell him.

He takes hold of your hand on his chest and holds it there. “No, I don’t believe I do either. Not today.”

“My next run begins in two days, I won’t have time to go on so many adventures with you.” You smile.

Zemo pulls your hand down but does not let go. “Then I will wait until you are free to enjoy the rest of the season with me.”

“Will you?”

“Of course.”

“It’s almost over my Lord, you’re going home at the end of summer.”

“Yes,” He says and tilts his head to find your eyes. You look at him and smile wide. “But perhaps I might persuade you to come with me.”

[vale-studies-ir]

Hello lovely people!

It seems that life made me take a leave of absence from tumblr. Thanks to all of you who have continued to interact with my page! I'm sorry if I've missed any messages or questions in the time that I've been away. I'm back now and I'll continue to share my journey with you all...

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In order to be able to keep moving forward, I think it's important to accept the past and move on. Accept any of the difficulties that happened, and see them as moments you've gone through that have made you stronger. My way of accepting and turning over a new page will be through this post.

I haven't shared too much information about my studies and how they've been going. My studyblr was very new, and I was using it more as a means for motivation by seeing all the wonderful things people in the community were doing. Little by little, I started to make posts of my own.

So let me formally introduce myself and share my ongoing journey...

My name is Valentina, I go by Vale for short. I jumped from graduating from my BA in International Relations and Political Science in the Spring of 2018 to starting my PhD studies in International Relations the Fall semester of that same year. No break, very smart... I know. That's only just the beginning. I'm not sure how it works abroad, but here doctoral students usually go through most of their studies being funded by a graduate assistantship. This pays tuition and provides a stipend through working as a TA (graduate teaching assistant). Of course they vary across universities and departments. When I was applying to the PhD program, one of my professors advised me not to accept if I was not given funding. There are only a limited number of spots that are given to incoming students each year that will be accepted as a TA.

In March of 2018 I received notification that I was accepted into the PhD program in International Relations at my university, however, the department could not guarantee funding for me. This put me at a loss, and I spend months wondering where this was going and what I would do. Because I'm an immigrant in the US, though I've been living here practically my whole life, I didn't have too many options. My mobility is constrained.. my access to scholarships is constrained (even though I may qualify for them in terms of academics and merit, migration status trumps over all of it). I was lost, to say the least. My family can't afford to have paid for this program or a Master's program out of pocket, and I am not able to take out student loans even if I wanted to.

Regardless of this all, I still attended the incoming graduate student orientation; which surprised the outgoing graduate program director. She did not think I would show up, considering the whole funding predicament. She and the new GPD told me that they would try to find something for me. On the first day of class, I showed up, still not knowing what would become of this situation. Not knowing if I would actually get to start the semester or not. We are usually given a week to pay tuition - because of status, I am considered an international student so my tuition came out to nearly $10,000 for three courses. That day, out of nowhere, I was told that the dean of our school (School of International and Public Affairs) was looking for a graduate assistant for new projects that he wanted to work on. In the span of a few hours, I ended up interviewing with him, being told that they would let me know because there was another student they were considering, and later being called and told that I got the position. I was ecstatic. I called my parents in tears. This was actually happening; I was actually going to be able to start my PhD.

It all happened so fast. It all seemed so exciting. The dean seemed very enthusiastic and pleased that I would be working with him. Things eventually took a turn for the worst...

Transitioning into graduate school itself is extremely difficult. Many graduate students find themselves experiencing heightened stress and strain on their mental health. I did not give myself the space to transition into graduate school without the added stress of being a doctoral student, without the added expectations. On top of that, the dean had not had a graduate assistant before. This was new for him too. The expectations of me were blurred and my contract would only last for a year to be considered for possible renewal (the typical TA contract in my original department lasts 4 years), this led to disaster. I needed this position to continue to fund my studies, so I needed to make sure that I was on top of my work expectations. Because these expectations were unclear, the dean's secretary took advantage. It seems they were short staffed, and I was given administrative tasks that did not belong to me. I was made to come in to the office for strictly 20 hours a week. (Our contract states that we work up to 20 hours a week). If I was ever sick and missed a day, that would be added onto the hours for the next week. So if I missed a day where I was supposed to be in the office for 5 hours, I'd have to be there for 25 hours the following week. A breach in the contract, I know - but who was I, a lowly student, against the dean? This office (a shared space) was not a place where a person could focus on studying. There were students coming in and out, loud conversations occurring, and having to see if the actual student employee in charge of taking phone calls was at their desk - if not, I would have to man the phone. While I was doing administrative tasks for the dean's secretary, the dean was having me create themed presentations and CO-LECTURE with him. Me, a person who had been an undergraduate student only months earlier. I had to create these presentations from scratch and know all of the material. All of my focus had to be on this. My performance in my own classes and mental health declined quickly. I could not focus, I could not get my reading assignments done, I felt unprepared. I felt like a failure.

After a year, I realized that it was not worth to have my tuition paid for if I could not focus on my classes and was set up for failure. It took a lot, but ultimately I turned down the contract renewal. Here comes the fun part. My GPA dropped tremendously. I graduated Magna Cume Laude just a year before. I developed depression and didn't realize it; to the point where a friend practically made me go to counseling. The office manager at my actual department knew what I was going through. I had shared a lot of my experience with her. She advocated for me. Because of this, I was told that there was a student who had been awarded an assistantship for the incoming Fall 2019 semester, but had decided not to take it. The contract was going to be made for me instead, for not 4 but for 5 years since I had only come in with a BA degree. When they ran it through the associate dean's office... it was denied. My GPA was lower than the threshold. A LOT lower. I was told by the GPD - the same woman who had just started her position that said she would help me, the woman that had gone on maternity leave during that whole year after she started meaning she was not aware of the situation - that I should really take my studies more seriously. She received a very long email from me and apologized afterwards, to say the least. Nothing could be done.

I had no funding, only savings and ended up working Full Time in Fall of 2019 in order to try to pay for 1 course, that costed me a little over $3,000. Somehow, even though I strongly considered it, I managed not to drop out. By this time, the majority of the courses I had taken before had INs - incomplete grades. Two of them had automatically turned into Fs. Things were not okay.

I got a bit of a mental break during that Fall semester. I worked in a friendly environment. The office manager pulled some strings and let me work as an office assistant there... so I was still at my department, but working as staff. It was a little awkward. I'm eternally grateful to her, she became a close friend. And because of her, someone at another department got word that there was a graduate student who needed funding.

This office manager was good friends with a recently graduated phd student from our department who is now working for a different center in the university. Because she was part of my department, many of my current colleagues know her, and are good friends with her. We spoke, I rushed to get my GPA up to the 3.0 threshold and with the help of my professor's I was able to be awarded an assistantship with that center. I started in December of 2019.

Again, I was ecstatic. Things were looking up. When I went in for the first time, I immediately felt a huge difference. It was a smaller, more homey place; and a lovely environment to be in. The people there were sweet and caring. I've gotten along with the few professors I've had the chance of meeting and working with.

Where did it start going downhill? The professor that recommended me (graduate from my home department) continuously requested that I work with her. Her reason being that I got along better with her (something that I was not aware of). Because she considered herself as my friend, professional lines were horribly blurred. I found myself doing additional work for her as a "favor for a friend." She then started having us meet multiple times a week for hours - distracting from the time I needed to actually get work done. This center does not cap classes - I've had to grade for up to 400 students in one semester. The meetings she scheduled were incredibly unproductive, and I found myself having to take extra time to get the grading done. Again, my own studies were effected. The past academic year went on like this. I ended up assisting in creating a new course and new assignments from scratch.

Later I noticed that something was wrong. I was doing way more work than stipulated by my contract. She was giving me access to her courses that I was not assigned to grade for. Instead of assisting for one course in the semester (the one with the highest enrollment), I was assisting for three. This was constantly under the guise of 'friendship'. How was I supposed to reject my 'friend'? When I tried to draw professional boundaries, I was met with resistance.

My mental health declined again in the fall and I missed a few of her scheduled meetings (meetings which she said were NOT mandatory). Because of this, she decided to throw me under the bus with the director and making it seem as if I was not actually working - when I was addressing students' needs and getting grades in. This worsened in the Spring. With the help of my counselor I finally got the courage to communicate with her. Albeit through text, because she's the type of person that does not allow you to get a word in during conversation.

"On that note, there’s something I’ve wanted to talk about. I’ve been struggling with concentration and fatigue. This is something that I’ve been working on with my doctor to try to find solutions. I’ve noticed that being in Zoom meetings in general where there’s casual conversation makes it exceptionally difficult for me to focus on what I’m trying to get done. This has been problematic in the work zoom meetings. You probably have noticed I seem really quiet, that is because I’m trying my hardest to focus.

I need to be able to focus during the time I’m assigned to work as a GA. Otherwise, I must take more time to complete tasks that normally wouldn’t take up that long or just wait until the weekends to finish them. That is conflicting as I have set that time to work on class assignments and my own projects. So in the end I end up falling behind and not working well because my productivity levels are being affected."

She seemed to understand me and be supportive. Then I noticed coldness, and condescending passive aggressive texts from her part.

I realized that I could not do this any longer. I could not allow myself to continuously be taken advantage of. Both of the people I've worked for were aware of my vulnerable situation due to migration status. They both knew that it was not easy for me to pay for my studies through any other means. My studies depended on these people, and if they 'liked' me. They abused and absorbed my time to the extent that my studies suffered tremendously.

But I finally stood up for myself. I spoke with the director and she affirmed that my concerns were valid. Time and time again she assured me that my studies should always come first. She supported me. I will no longer be assigned to work with this person.

I finally feel heard.

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It's been 3 years since I started my program. A lot has happened in this time. I have a lot of catching up to do this summer if I want to stay on track and take my comprehensive exams by the end of the year. But someone finally heard me, acknowledged the wrongdoings and helped me.

Don't let people walk over you and take advantage of you. I'm learning this the hard way.

Speak your truth.

[simsroyallegacy]

Giorgiades Ballroom, Windenburg Palace - 9 PM

Isadora:...and tomorrow we my family will visit. My brother has asked my sister to come with me for the next prenatal check up.

Nicholas: Valentina? Is that going to be a good idea? Maybe I should cancel my–

Isadora: You will not. You must attend your fitting for your wedding tuxedo tomorrow. We have had barely any time to get anything done and must push forward at least something...

Alexios: How has Jerome been? I haven’t really seen him since your graduation party last year.

Minerva: He’s been doing fine as far as I know. He’s been busy with his own work back in Pierreland and I’ve been here so we haven’t had much of a chance to catch up either.

Alexios: I’ve wanted to return there for a vacation; will you be going back soon?

Minerva: I’ll be returning for my cousin’s wedding...

Nicholas: *internally* She’s still with Alexios?

Isadora: Nicky, you are messing up the steps again...

Alexios: Oh, I’ll be representing my father at the Imperial wedding, perhaps you’d like to meet up afterwards? I’d like to sightsee but I’m horrible with directions, so I’ll definitely need a guide. *laughs*

Minerva: Maybe, but I can’t promise anything.

Alexios: Not even a visit to the museum? The last time we went was quite enjoyable, by the end...

Isadora: Nicky? Are you listening to me at–

Nicholas: Sorry, Isa, there’s something I’ve got to discuss with Prince Alexios.

Isadora: Do not dare to–

Nicholas: May I steal Her Imperial Highness for a moment, Alexios?

Minerva: I don’t think that’s a good idea–

Alexios: Sure, Nicky! I’ll speak to you later, Minnie. I think I’ll go grab another glass of champagne; the lady standing near the bar looks lonely...

Minerva: What do you want from me, Nicholas? 

Nicholas: I just–I needed to see if you’re alright? When you left Whiteglenn–

Minerva: You made it very clear that I was unwanted...that you’d made your choice.

Nicholas: Minnie, you have to understand where I’m coming from. I don’t want to be with Isadora, but I’ve been left with no choice. For the sake of my daughter I have to listen to her demands...no matter how much it’s killing me.

Minerva: I just want you to be happy and loved, Nicholas; I want that for your child too.

Nicholas: I know this, but I need you to know that I’ll never be happy and loved without you. 

Minerva: Is this your way of trying to comfort me? It’s doing the exact opposite.

Nicholas: No, it’s not comfort. This is me telling you that although I’ve had to choose someone else, it’s you that has my heart. It’s you who I’ve been thinking of when I’m with her. It will always be you, Minnie.

Minerva: Nicky...

Nicholas: Please, come out for some air with me. I want to talk with you like we used to...

Isadora: I cannot believe this, that little tramp has got to go–

Valentina: What are you muttering to yourself in the corner, sister? I know you’re mentally ill, but I had not realized it had progressed into talking to someone who isn’t there.

Isadora: Valentina, was there something you wanted?

Valentina: Such a cold greeting to your little sister. Father would be angry with you if he heard.

Isadora: It’s a good thing Father is at home then.

Valentina: Yes, it’s very lucky for you. He would probably take away that flimsy little thing you call a tiara if I asked though...perhaps I will. You’re an eyesore even all the way here in Lunaria.

Isadora: Watch what you say to me, little sister, remember you’re speaking to a future Queen now.

Valentina: Oh? A future Queen whose future King just ran off with another woman? I doubt this is going to last; he, like everyone, can’t even stand the sight of you.

Isadora: Shut up, Valentina. You’re running your mouth without even knowing anything.

Valentina: I know a man in love when I see one, Isadora. Prince Nicholas loves you as much as one loves a piece of shit stuck to their shoe. He’ll scrape you off and throw you in the trash where you belong as soon as that baby of yours is born.

Isadora: You little–

Valentina: And don’t expect Father or anyone back in Buenos Mares to welcome you back when it happens, either. We’ve all come to enjoy your absence.

Party Guest: Princess Valentina! It’s been awhile; would you like to dance?

Valentina: I’ll take my leave of you, Sister. I suppose I’ll see you tomorrow...

@officalroyalsofpierreland​

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: Territorial {One Shot} ***

Chris Evans x Reader

Warning: Cursing, Heavy Angst, NSFW, SMUT

Words: 7.2k

Note: Oh boy, I got carried away with this one. Please excuse the 7k words. I didn’t know I did it until it was too late. Hope you guys like this. Thank you for reading!

***Loosely Edited/Proofread***

***Interactive--Kinda***

~~~~~~~~~~~~

 What do you do when you are a single lady who is also a super busy actress who has too much going on to be bogged down by dating as a celeb? Or what do you do when you have needs that you need tending, but you don’t want the headache of complications? You get yourself a friend with benefits. So that’s what you did.

 Okay, you didn’t go out seeking a friend with benefits situation. It just happened. Thanks to a friend of a friend who was friends with what they called “a sweet guy who was also gorgeous and good in bed,” happened to be at a party you were at and introduced you to none other than Chris Evans. You know of him, everyone in the whole Hollywood fame circle did. You also knew of his reputation. He was a playboy who liked to have a good time. You didn’t knock it.

 That night after you were introduced and he passed the twenty-minute test, you allowed your friends to wander off, leaving the two of you to talk. That talk ended up being a good two hours. He wasn’t boring or arrogant, and he was quite funny. As you spoke, you were mentally going over your checklist.

Not Boring, check. Not arrogant, check. Funny, check. Smart, check. Handsome, check, and check. Tall, check. Nice lips, check. Sexy, all the fucking checks. He was hitting all the checks on your checklist. After another two hours, the two of you still hadn’t managed to wander off to speak to anyone else. Your friends texted several times, giving you your outs, but you didn’t take any of them. Chris, of course, laughed it off because he knew just what was happening.

 By the end of the night, you’d exchanged numbers and made plans to hang out sometime in the coming week or two. Three days passed before he called you. You pretended not to notice, but you noticed. When he called, he joked that he had to play it cool. That night you had dinner, which lasted another four hours. Things were going great, so great that you saw each other six times before the week was done. Each time you found more and more you liked about him. You had good chemistry, and things just felt natural with him.

 One night on the beach after a lowkey picnic dinner, he made his move with a star shooting kiss. It was that good. It quickly became more and more passionate, but the two of you pulled away at the same time. He whispered that he liked you a lot, you whispered it back, and the kissing continued. Then again, the two of you pulled back you said you had a lot going on and couldn’t afford distractions, he shared the same sentiments said his workload was about to pick up. That didn’t stop the kissing, though. On the third pull back, both of you said the words at the same time; “nothing serious.” Both of you laughed about it and nodded your agreement before hurrying back to his car to race back to your place because it was closer for one of the best sexual experiences you’d ever had.

 Nothing serious turned to whenever we’re in the same town. That turned to whenever we have an itch, and finally, it turned into just whenever. Normal fuck buddy arrangements operated with meeting, having sex, and leaving soon after. That never happened between you and Chris. You’d often go out, grab dinner, see a movie, go to a play, a game, whatever. You’d talk about everything, laugh like he was the funniest comedian, flirt your asses off to go back to each other’s houses, and have sensual, teasing, passionate toe-curling, back-arching hair ruining sex. Afterward, you’d cuddle for a little, watch some tv, talk, do it again and again, or however many times it needed to be done, you’d both fall asleep and depending on whose house it was one would leave the next morning after breakfast in bed together.

 Eleven months in and nothing had changed.

“Shit, yes. Right there.” You were so close. Chris continued to pound into you at just the right angle. You could feel the goosebumps prickling your skin, the telltale sign of your impending orgasm--the more goosebumps, the more intense. Chris knew it too.

 “You don’t gotta tell me where. I know what I’m doin’.” He brutally snapped his hips forward, delivering such a powerful stroke you splayed across the bed face down.

 With your face smushed in the down comforters, you moaned and cursed all at the same time.

 “What was that?” Chris slapped your ass and moaned no doubt getting lost in the way it jiggled. Turning your head to the side, you bit your bottom lip.

 “I said fuck that shit hurt,” you repeated. He smiled and grabbed your hips to pull you back up onto your knees. Slowly he slid back inside your warmth. Both of you moaned together. He allowed you to adjust for a few moments as he kissed along your spine up to your neck. Once there, he bit down onto your skin making you gasp.

 “You love that, huh?” You nodded as he held onto your shoulders and began plowing inside of you again. You grabbed the sheets and quickly got lost in the pleasure he was giving you. He sped up his thrusts but never missed his mark. Your moans got louder and louder; you could feel your orgasm creeping back up. Suddenly Chris slowed and hovered over your back to kiss your jaw.

 “I missed you,” his voice was deep, and it sent shivers down your spine.

 “I can tell.” Chris ground his hips into you, sending his dick to press against every wall you had. When he reached around to circle your clit, you knew you wouldn’t last much longer.

 “I mean it,” he added. You smiled and peeped at him over your shoulder.

“I missed you.” As if those were the words he needed he snapped his hips forward so hard your head jerked forward then back, Chris held on to your shoulders and used it as leverage to have you see stars.

 “Oh, fuck, yes. Uh-huh. Yes, Chris!”

 In a matter of seconds, the two of you came together and rode the waves of pleasure that was so familiar between the two of you. When the two of you crashed to the bed, Chris remained nestled deep inside of you as he tossed the throw blanket over the two of you before he hugged you to his chest. You moaned.

 “That was nice.”

 “Nice? Watch your mouth.” You giggled and pushed your ass back onto him some more, which elicited a deep moan from him. Chris dropped another kiss onto your shoulder.

 “So, you know that party tomorrow night?”

 “What party?”

 “The It party, the one that’s after the It luncheon,” Chris explained.

 “Oh, right. Yeah. What about it?”

 “Are you staying in town for it?”

 “Yeah, I’m here for a week or two, I think. I actually have to go to that stupid luncheon.” You groaned. You hated the horse and pony shows. Hated having to mingle and shake hands and smile and be pretty. It was tiring.

 “I know how much you hate them. Since I have to make an appearance at both, let’s just go together. I’ll distract you from the hoopla and even find some excuse to whisk you away when things get weird.” You snorted and laughed.

 “How in the world do you plan on distracting me? Dragging me into a bathroom part of the plan?”

 “It could be.” Again, he kissed your skin.

 “Listen, if you keep kissing me like that, we’ll be too tired to go anywhere tomorrow.” Chris rolled onto you and kneed your thighs apart.

 “Sounds fine by me. That way, I won’t have to peel a fancy dress off of you to get you naked and here like this.” He thrust forward joining your bodies again. You moaned and wrapped your legs around him.

 “But the fun is peeling off the dress.” Chris smiled and kissed you, beginning another round of mind-numbing sex.

   ~~~~~~

“So, the two of you are dating now.” You rolled your eyes at your best friend, Alicia’s sly statement.

 “Dating? What? No. We’re not dating. We’re going to the luncheon and party afterward. Where did you hear date?”

 Your friends all looked at you as if you were slow. The four of you were sitting and getting hair and makeup done.

 “What!?”

 “Is he picking you up?”

 “In the chauffeured car, yes,” you responded to Valentina’s question.

 “Are you guys planning on matching?”

 “Coordinating and matching are very different,” you defended while looking at Bianca.

 “Y/N! Oh my god, how are you blind to this. You’re dating your fuck buddy,” Alicia hammered home.

 “What! No, I am not. We are not doing anything out of the ordinary. We have dinners, hang out, get it in, and then leave. None of that says dating,” you defended.

 “Uh, yes, it does. Fuck buddies bypass all of that nonsense. You fuck in the car, then get dropped off, go hard at the house, and then leave. There are no calls, texts, dinners, hanging out. All of that you mentioned is called dating. Hence you’ve been dating your fuck buddy,” Alicia finished.

 You sat there thinking about her words. You’d never stopped and thought about this. It was all as easy and as simple as breathing. Chris fell into your life and meshed with it. There was no adjusting or rearranging. The two of you just worked. You enjoyed being around each other.

 “Aren’t you supposed to like being around your fuck buddy?”

 “Not past fucking.”

 You had a mental and I oop moment that you knew you could let out. You liked being around Chris.

 “Listen man; y’all are not going to have me in my head for the next eighteen hours. Nothing is happening between us. We’re being each other’s wing person for these events. End of discussion.”

 For the next hour or so, you got beautified and tried to push what they’d said out of your mind. As far as you were concerned, it was not true. When you got home, you got into your outfit and prepared yourself for the next few hours. When the doorbell rang, it was almost one. He knew you hated arriving anywhere on time. As you approached the door, you could see Chris’s back turned. His navy checkered slacks and brown jacket. You opened the door, and he spun around, holding white orchids.

“Wow.”

 “I know, I look just as good in clothes as I do out of them, right.”

 He smiled and shook his head as he leaned in and kissed you. What was to be a quick peck turned into another and another before you had a mini make-out session in your doorway.

 “Ready to go?”

 “Yes, let me put these down,” you answered before you hurried inside to place the orchids on a shelf. When you came back, you had your clutch, and it was time to go.

 The drive wasn’t long; it went by pretty quick thanks to your constant banter—banter that had been there from day one. You found yourself looking over him and admitting how he looked in his outfit. He looked good. He always looked good even when his team chose questionable pieces. At those times, you didn’t bite your tongue in shooting him a message telling him how bad the outfit was.

 “Is this outfit up to standards?”

 You snorted and shook your head as you bounced him with your shoulder. Instead of moving back to your side, you remained leaning on him. “If it wasn’t, I wouldn’t have gone anywhere with you.”

 “Oh. So, it’s like that. Wow. Here I thought we were friends,” Chris feigned hurt.

 “You didn’t let me finish. Friends don’t let friends go out looking a hot mess, so I wouldn’t have gone anywhere with you until you matched my drip,” you teased. Chris laughed loudly, slapping his hand across his chest. You smiled. It was a laugh you loved, his genuine laugh.

 “Laugh if you want to. You know I have style, Evans.” He nodded and kissed your temple. It was an action that gave you goosebumps—goosebumps that were usually achieved during sex with him. Sensing your stiff demeanor, Chris looked at your face.

 “You okay?” You nodded more enthusiastically than you should have and hoped it didn’t come off weird.

 Thankfully, you arrived at your location just in time. With your hand draped inside of Chris’s arm, the two of you walked into the entrance of the venue, a sprawling home in the hills. You warmly smiled at the passing faces of those you knew and didn’t know.

 “Perfect little fake smile you have there,” Chris teased.

 Through your perfect little fake smile, you responded, “Not everyone can be charismatic Chris Evans. Some of us have to fake it till we make it.” Chris snorted beside you as the two of you kept walking through the venue. Within minutes you were surrounded by people all complimenting your outfit and expressing how happy they were to see you.

 You and Chris quickly got busy with mingling and small talk. You talked about everything from previous roles to impending ones and everything in between. The entire time you kept your smile up and even added other pleasantries—a hand touch here, a tossed back head laugh there, and infinite cheek kisses. It was exhausting. Halfway through mingling, you realized you and Chris had been torn apart. He was entertaining a group of women off to the side. The smiles on the faces of all the women told you his charm was in full effect, and he had each and every one of them under his blue-eyed spell.

 One of the women touched his bicep while she laughed a very fake laugh. Yeah, he was funny, but he wasn’t that funny. She was trying to inflate his ego. You rolled your eyes but continued to watch. Chris flashed one of his lopsided grins at the woman in the bright yellow body con dress. You knew her as Brandy Hannover, an up and coming actress. He usually didn’t have a type, but from his history, he liked blonds and brunettes, he could go either way. You were the only odd choice in his dating history. You had to mentally slap yourself when you registered “dating.” Then you had to remind yourself; you’re not dating.

 Brandy looked him over as she licked her lips. When hers and Chris’s eyes met, you felt a pang of something unfamiliar in the pit of your stomach. Their glance lasted seconds, but seconds was all it took for you to want to vomit. Chris looked from her and immediately found your eyes. You flashed him your fake smile and turned back to those in your group to join back into the conversation, ignoring the new uneasiness you felt.

 An hour passed, then two, and three. By the time five rolled around, you’d had way too much Bellini’s and mimosas and were ready to leave. As you thought it, Chris found you and expressed the same sentiments. Relieved, you wasted no time making your exit and getting back into the car. The drive back was quieter than the trip going. Chris tried to make small talk, but your short responses shut him down. You couldn’t keep your head in the present. You kept thinking back to watching him talk to Brandy. You didn’t know why it rubbed you the wrong way, and that was what bothered you. Before you knew it, the car was outside your door.

 “You okay?”

 “Hm? Yeah, I’m fine. Too much champagne, you know it makes me loopy.”

 He nodded but didn’t speak again for a few moments.

 “Have you decided on the color for tonight?”

 You were supposed to tell him the color of your dress so he wouldn’t clash with you. you hadn’t narrowed it down yet, so you shrugged. “Wear whatever. It doesn’t really matter. It’s not nearly that serious.”

 Chris looked confused, but you didn’t want to explain. Gathering your things, you went to open the door, but the driver did it for you.

 “Y/N, you sure you’re okay?”

 “Yeah. So—eight?” He looked like he had more to say, but he was contemplating if he should. With a defeated sigh, he nodded and repeated the time you’d agreed to pick you up. You nodded and walked to your front door without a glance back.

~~~~~~~~ 

That night the doorbell rang a little after eight. You were in a better mood now and actually couldn’t wait for the chance to drink some wine. Your friends were going to be there, and you knew they’d make you have fun. You smiled when you saw his crisp blue suit with black lapels, your jaw dropped. God, he was gorgeous. You almost said it too.

 “I had a feeling you’d pick the rose gold dress,” Chris informed. Your smile said it all. He knew you well.

 By the time you got to the party, the paparazzi were out and snapping pics of everyone in their path. When you and Chris walked by arm in arm, they shouted numerous questions.

 “Y/N, Y/N, Chris over here. Are you guys dating now? There have been tons of rumors. Is this your official outing as a couple?”

 You looked at Chris, who was rolling his eyes and giving you a silly face.

 “Uh, no. Chris and I are just friends as always.” You looked at him again, but the silly face was gone. He looked a lot more serious. His eyebrows were knitted and jaw tight. You wondered if you’d said something to warrant the change.

 Inside the venue, it was all opulence and luxury. It was filled with who was who of Hollywood. It was loud; the sounds of Normani’s Motivation was playing. There were a few places for dancing and quite a few tables for socializing. Everyone looked to be having a good time. Chris led you through the space on his arm. Occasionally the two of you would stop and greet a few people you knew before you continued on.

 After a few minutes, your friends found you, and it was then Chris made his clean break for the bar.

 “You look incredible,” Valentina elated. You smiled and did a spin so she could see the whole outfit.

 “Damn, boobs are out on display.” The four of you laughed as you looked around at your surroundings.

 “They had a good turn out.”

 “Yeah. No one needs an excuse to come out and drink on someone else’s dime, especially if it means it’ll possibly add to the notches on their bedpost,” Bianca said. It was true. You were only here because you half had to. In Hollywood, you had to make sure your face wasn’t forgotten.

 The song changed to an oldie, and the four of you jumped up and busted out your moves. The four of you made your way to one of the dance floors and got your party on. You parted the high split at your thigh and dropped a little low and winded your hips. Your friends followed your lead and showcased their skills. The four of you sang along to the song.

 “I’m on the floor, floor, I love to dance. Now give me more, more. Till I can’t stand. Get on the floor, floor like it’s your last chance. If you want more, more, then here I am.”

 That was when you got into it even more. When the hook popped, you lost it.

 “We’re higher than a motherfucker!” The four of you jumped like you were in a mosh pit and didn’t care who was watching. Soon a few others joined in with the four of you, and then the floor around you was filled.

 From the corner of your eye, you saw Chris leaning against the bar watching with a soft smile on his lips. He raised his drink and shook his head. Your shrug said it all. He knew how you were. The party didn’t start until you walk in. You nudged him over, but he shook his head. Before you continued to dance, you stuck your tongue out at him.

 You spent the next hour on that dance floor with your girls dancing your ass off with plenty of drink filled pit stops. You had no idea who was in charge of the music, but they were killing it. Usually, the music at these things was so bland, but tonight they must have had a good DJ. By the time Chris came over more than an hour had passed. He handed you a refilled glass of your Bacardi on ice. That was when the music changed to something new from the Jonas Brothers. You couldn’t lie; it was a good one.

 You pulled Chris into a dance before he could back off. Though he tried to make his getaway, you quickly stopped him by sliding before him, blocking him with your hip. He snorted and shook his head. You crooked your finger to him, telling him to come to you. When he walked to you, he looked like he didn’t want to. You crossed your arms and pouted, and that was when he took your hands and began moving to the beat. In no time, the two of you were doing some mixed up jive dances around the dancefloor. When the hook came on, you imitated Danny Zuko and Sandy’s dancing at the fair. Chris wasted no time joining in though the two of you laughed your ass off the entire time.

 This is what you loved. You had a good time with him no matter what. Towards the end of the song, you and Chris were close together with his arms around your waist.

 “I can’t believe you have me dancing in front of all these people, showing my white boy moves.” You laughed loudly, throwing your head back. This one was genuine.

 “And you give me the fake enthusiastic laugh,” he teased.

 “Oh, stop it. You know that one was real. I don’t fake anything with you.” Your eyes locked and you wiggled your eyebrows at him. Chris bit his bottom lip and sank his fingers into your back, holding you firmer.

 “Good to know.” You noticed how dark his eyes got, and you knew just what it meant. Thankfully this was not the place.

 “How do you feel about finding a balcony or closet with me?” you dropped your jaw in faux shock.

 “Really, Christopher? Here?”

 You were not surprised. This man was the energizer fucking bunny. He was always down to get his tip wet. In the last eleven months, you’d had sex in the most unimaginable places. He may be white, but he was anything but vanilla.

 “Oh, come on. you’re not down?” All of this isn’t working for you?” Again, you laughed loudly.

“Your Gemini cocky is showing.” He smiled and brought his lips to your ear and pressed them to your skin.

 “My Gemini cocky wants to show right here, right now, if you catch my drift.” He finished with a small bite to your earlobe.

 That was all it took, and he knew it.

 “I can feel your nipples through your dress. Follow me in four minutes.”

 You watched him walk off and tried to conceal your excitement. There was nothing like public sex. The possibility of being caught was just too intoxicating and exhilarating. He’d given you some of your best orgasms in an open space. Before he disappeared, he peeped back at you and licked his lips before giving you his signature molten smolder. Jesus the man was going to be the death of you. You looked around looking to see if anyone had seen anything. When you were satisfied, you made it to the bar. You needed a stiff drink.

 “What’s your poison?” Looking to your right, you saw a tall drink of milk. His hair was blonde and hung loose and was the perfect frame for his strong jawline. He was gorgeous. He sort of reminded you of Chris, but his vibe and aura were completely different, but still sexy.

Realizing you were gawking, you cleared your throat and looked to the bartender. “Um—uh--,” you stuttered. This was different, you thought.

 “Speechless or unsure?” you looked back to him and saw his perfect smile. Lord have mercy, you thought.

 “Both.”

 “I’m Charlie; maybe I can help.” You nodded and watched as he spoke to the bartender. His mouth was beautiful. You instantly began to wonder just what that mouth did. As if he could hear your thoughts, Charlie looked at you with dark eyes.

 “I can help with that too.”

 You were too horny for this, and it was all Chris’s fault. You remembered Chris and slyly checked your phone to see what time you had.

 “Am I boring or--,” Charlie trailed off.

 “I’m Y/N, and no, no, you’re not I just—was supposed to find a friend.”

 “Oh, so it has nothing to do with you not being interested?”

 He had you there. Were you interested? He was beautiful and sexy, and you were sure he could be a good guy.

 “It’s just—I’m not really doing the dating thing right now.”

“We can be friends—every good relationship starts with friendship.”

 “Relationship?”

 “Definitely, this chemistry can’t go anywhere else but up.”

 You were impressed. He was direct but not pushy. You liked it. Charlie then took your phone and held it up to you showing your lock pad. He didn’t say one word; all he did was stare in your eyes. You found yourself tapping in your lock code, giving him access to your phone. You watched his hands as they tapped away and admired the clean groom of his nails, you then looked up to his face and continued to admire the beard and mustache combo. He was fine.

 Charlie held your phone back to you with a smile. “Call me.” You smiled and nodded. From the corner of your eye, you saw Chris watching. He didn’t look happy.

 “Uh, I gotta—go. It was nice meeting you.” You tried to calmly walk over to Chris, but the sea of people on the dancefloor made it tricky. As you got close, you saw him walk away, but then you lost him. You were left spinning around on the dance floor, looking for which direction he went. That was when you shot him a message.

 MSG: Where’d you go?

 “You know, I think what you’re doing needs a partner.”

 You spun around and saw an incredibly tall buff dark-haired man with a sweet smile on his face.

“I’m sorry?”

 “Dancing, you’re all alone,” he filled in. You smiled and nervously laughed. Your mind had totally taken that somewhere else.

 “Right.”

 “What’d you think I meant?” His sly grin said he suspected just what you thought he meant. You pinched your lips and shrugged, which made him laugh.

 “Pablo.” He held his hand out for you to shake, which you did.

 “Y/N.” The moment your hands touched, there was an electric shock. Both of you pulled back with smiles.

 “That was a first,” Pablo informed. You smiled and nodded.

 “I have to admit; I’ve been watching you all night. Not in a crazy, creepy stalker way but a mesmerized way.”

 “Is that any less creepy or stalker like?”

 Again, he laughed, then nodded. “You have a point.”

 His smile was great, open, and free.

 “I wasn’t trying to be creepy. I just—haven’t been able to take my eyes off of you.”

 “It’s the dress, the color just—draws you in,” you explained. His eyes slowly roamed over your body, and every inch he looked, he looked as if he were in pain but also blown away.

 “While the dress is—infuckingcredible, like really wow, it’s not the dress. I’m sure it’s the woman wearing the dress.”

 He was smooth, you thought. The way he slid that in there was seamless.

 “I just had to come over and tell you all of this before I lost my chance,” Pablo admitted.

 “Lost your chance?”

 “It’s clear you have the attention of every man in here. I had to what do they say—shoot my shot.” You laughed loudly while pressing your hand to your cleavage.

 “Wow. Good one.”

 “Gotta stay up with the times. So, what do you say, do I have a shot?”

 You studied him and looked him over and admitted he was gorgeous. You didn’t get a bad vibe from him, either. You couldn’t believe this. You now had two equally beautiful men vying for your attention while you had Chris. You saw him them hanging to the back, watching you. Instantly you felt guilty as if you shouldn’t be talking to any other man but him. He sure as hell looked like he was thinking it.

 “Tell you what, take my number and give me a call if you think I have a shot.”

 Pablo’s voice brought your attention back to his face. You unlocked your phone and took his number. Once it was locked in, you said your goodbyes then looked back to the spot you saw Chris. Again, he was gone.

 An hour later, you’d had enough of the party. You’d sent Chris numerous messages, and he hadn’t responded to any of them. You were pissed at this point—pissed and horny. You found your friends and told them you were ready to go. They wanted to stay, so you left alone. On the drive back to your house, you looked between Charlie’s number and Pablo’s. It never ceased to amaze you the universe’s sense of humor. Usually, when you weren’t looking, you found situations to get yourself into as opposed to when you’re looking. When you were close, you looked at your text exchange between Chris and contemplated sending yet another one. You were so annoyed with him you decided against it.

 Once inside, you took a shower and sat in your bed with a bottle of wine ready to channel surf. After about thirty or so minutes of relaxation, your doorbell rang. It was damn near three in the morning, and you didn’t know who it could be. You checked your Ring app and saw Chris at your door. His suit jacket was missing leaving him in his crisp white shirt. In one hand he held a bottle, and the other was braced on the frame. His tie was loosened around his neck with a few buttons on his white shirt undone. Rolling your eyes, you got up and made your way to it as he continued to ring over and over.

 When you flung open the door, you were ready to push him away. “You have some nerve showing up here after what you did,” you slid out.

 “Me? After what I did? You have some nerve showing up here after what you did!”

 You sighed and rolled your eyes. “I live here, dumbass!”

 “Yeah, so!”

 He was drunk. It made no sense doing this now. “Go home, Chris, sleep it off.”

 “Now I have to go home? Why got someone inside?”

 You looked at him incredulously. “Excuse me? Who would I have--,”

 “You tell me. I saw you tonight with not one but two douchbags.” He held up three fingers instead of two. You rubbed your temples; he was going to give you a headache.

 “And you know they’re douchbags how?”

 “Oh come on, Y/N, you can see it. If you weren’t blinded, you’d have seen it too.”

 “Blinded? By what? Chris, you’re drunk and making no sense. Go home.”

 “No! I’m gonna say this. You had me waiting and waiting so you could flirt with dickhead one and dickhead two. That was cold, Y/N.”

 “I didn’t expect them to corner me. You didn’t answer my calls or texts. You left me there, Chris. We went together, and you left me.”

 “Oh, I thought you’d get a ride from one of them. You sure looked like you wanted it.”

 Your jaw dropped as you stared at him.

 “What is your problem right now, Chris? I don’t get all twisted when you flirt with every Brenda, Brandy, and Bernice. I just let you do your thing. What the hell?!”

 “Oh please, when was the last time I flirted with anyone but you? Months! Fuck, it’s been almost a year Y/N.”

 “You flirted today! I saw you give her the look. Don’t fuck with me, Chris.”

 You walked away inside your house then. He was really pissing you off. You heard your door slam and knew he showed himself in.

 “You want them to fuck with you, right. That’s what you want, Y/N?”

 “So what if I do? So what? Why does it matter? We’re friends. We’re—this was your idea.”

 “Don’t pull that, it was as much yours as mine,” Chris countered.

 “Exactly. What’s changed? We were good last night. What the fuck is the matter with you?”

 “I’m fucking tired of doing this. We do everything a couple does. Do you see that? We go on dates, fly out to each other, hang with each other’s friends. You’ve met my family; we have sex, we sleepover, cuddle. We do it all. What the fuck did you expect?”

 You were stumped. What exactly was he saying? Was he saying what it sounded like he was saying? The look on his face was an exasperated one. He looked genuinely at his wit’s end and completely flushed.

 “Do you need me to spell it out for you?”

 He scoffed and tossed the bottle he held into a nearby chair and approached you. Once close enough, he crashed his lips to yours and lifted you in his arms. Your brain was still in shock, but your body needed no adjustment. You wrapped your legs around him and kissed him back with just as much passion as he was dishing out. Your moans competed in the hallway before he made his way up the stairs toward your bedroom.

 Once there, he dropped you on the bed and pressed his body onto yours. He felt so fucking good. Quickly Chris undid the rest of his clothes. In a matter of seconds, he was naked pulling your tee shirt over your hips to push your panties to the side. When he thrust into you, it was a quick and rough movement that stole your breath. Chris loudly groaned in your ear as his body shook on top of yours. The pace he set was a fast one, one that said he had something to prove, one that was laced with aggression. You felt his meaning behind every deep, and bruising thrust.

 “Fuck, Chris!” He arched onto his forearms and looked down at you as he sped the way his hips rolled. You arched your head back and wrapped your legs more tightly around him, digging your heels into the flesh of his tight ass.

 “Shit, shit, shit, shit!” He bit down on your neck, and you saw stars. This was the quickest orgasm you’d had in months. He didn’t slow down while you clenched around him. He kept his pace but increased the loudness of his moans.

 “Fuck Y/N. You feel so fucking good.”

 This was the first time he’d ever gone raw. You both were meticulous about protection. The feel of him inside of you this way was pushing you so much closer to the edge.

 “Mmmm, fuck this pussy, Chris!”

 “Whose pussy is it? Huh? Is it mine?” He’d asked this before, plenty of times, and you always said his without hesitation, but this time, you felt he meant it differently. The realization of that made you lose your shit and come again.

 “Oh, gooooooood!” Chris grunted and slammed into you with slow, precise strokes that only prolonged your release.

 “I can’t hear you, Y/N. Is this pussy mine?”

 You nodded, unable to find an ounce of control. “Yes. Mmm, yes. Fuck this pussy, Chris. Fuck your pussy.”

 “With pleasure!” He looked devious as if he had nothing good planned for your pussy.

 Chris arced your ass up, changing the angle on you, and that was it. You screamed, feeling every single inch pound into you. He’d never been like this before. It was new, and you loved it a little bit too much.

 “Mine!” He didn’t even sound sane anymore. He sounded crazed. Who knew you liked crazed? He slammed his hips into you so fast you had to hold onto the sheets for some kind of leverage. He was impossibly deep, so deep, you found yourself trying to pull back. The look he gave you was warning enough.

 “Take all this dick, Y/N. It’s yours.” Chris threw his head back and groaned loudly before his thrusts became sloppy. You could feel his body shake, and you knew he was close. You held onto his hand and began rocking on him rolling your body like a wave. Chris dropped his head to look back at you. His eyes were wide. He was asking you the question. Your whines became louder, but you didn’t loosen your grip. You were giving him your answer. His eyes remained trained on yours from there, and it made the moment that much more intense. Your pants blended together as did the sweaty slap your bodies made together.

 Chris grunted then whimpered before he slammed into you once, twice and a third time as he made the most primal sound you’d ever heard. Upon hearing it, you came with such a force all you saw was blinding light behind your eyes.

 “Ahhhh!” The two of you screamed together as you rode the waves of your pleasure. You felt like you were going to rip apart and couldn’t handle it, as you began to move, you came again, and that was when you felt the geyser-like gush come from you. Again, you screamed and dug your nails into his hand.

 An eternity seemed to pass before either of you were coherent or even able to put speech together. The feel of Chris’ fingertips across your hip was what brought you back to reality. You had no idea how you’d gotten on top of him, but one thing was certain, he was still buried deep within you. You lazily moaned against his chest.

 “Mmm.”

 “Are you okay?”

 “Mmm.” That was literally the only thing you could respond with. You doubted you had a voice anymore; you weren’t even sure you had legs. You lazily opened your eyes, instantly regretting it. The sun was peeking in through your sheer curtains. You didn’t even realize the two of you fell asleep.

 “Are you sure you’re okay?” Chris brought his fingers up and down your spine, lulling you back to sleep.

 “It’s morning,” he said again when you didn’t respond for several moments. Again, you moaned, this time you shifted but only slightly. Chris moaned, the vibration had you opening your eyes.

 “I’m sorry if I was too rough. Shit, I’m sorry for everything I said. I was drunk.”

 “Oh so.” Chris snorted then groaned again.

 “I’m sorry. That’s not a side I ever wanted to show you.”

 “Your drunk, jealous, petty, and dom side?” His voice was doing things to you. You were so wide open for this man it was crazy and the final nail in the coffin.”

 “I was not petty.”

 “Oh, you were petty. I think you would beat several women at it.” Chris laughed, but slowly the silence returned.

 “Y/N.”

You moaned your response again. He didn’t speak right away, though; he waited for nearly a minute before he quietly spoke.

 “I need the words. I need--the titles, the ex--exclusivity.”

 The words hung in the air between you. Your eyes were wide open now, but you didn’t speak. You didn’t know what to say. After a few minutes, he gently lifted your head and turned it to him. Resting your chin on his chest, the two of you gazed at each other.

 “I need you. I need us the way we’ve always been, but so much more.”

 It was then you understood what you felt yesterday at the luncheon and what you’ve been gradually feeling over the last few months.

 “I love you, Y/N.” Your heart was racing as fast as his. It was cute. You raised up on him, changing the angle of his half-hardened cock. Both of you moaned. When you sat there looking at his lazy drooped eyes, you almost laughed. Of course, this is where the two of you ended up.

 “If you don’t feel the same, just say it. I’m a big boy. I can handle it.”

 “I love you too, Chris.”

 “Really?” You nodded and smiled. He was adorable when he was insecure.

 “What about those two idiots from--,” Chris began before you groaned and got off of him. Chris sucked in a breath and released a groan. When you came back, you had your phone in hand holding it out to him.

 “Take it. The code is 081119.” Chris cautiously took your phone and tapped in the code as you sat on his thighs. “Go to contacts. Find Charlie and Pablo. Do whatever you want with them.” You watched Chris as he searched through and found what you told him to. He looked at you as if he were thinking about something. You didn’t waver, only gave him a disinterested look.

 “Whatever I want?”

 “Whatever you want.” He smiled and tapped away.

 “Your services won’t be needed. I’m in love with someone else, and he has the biggest, thickest--.” You lurched for your phone as he pulled it back to flip you onto your back. His laugh was loud.

 “Don’t be a dick about it, Chris. I may still have to work with them one day,” you whined. Chris showed you the blank screen. He hadn’t typed anything.

 “I can be a real dick; just remember that.” You smiled, seeing more of his possessive, territorial side.

 “You know, this possessiveness and territorial alpha thing is really hot.”

 “Yeah? It turns you on?”

 “Little bit.” You smiled and allowed him to spread your legs with his free hand. When you felt the heaviness of his member pressing against your slit, you moaned.

 “Are you watching?” you looked at your screen and watched him tap the delete contact button. He did the same for both of them then tossed your phone aside.

 “Mine!” You smiled and bit your bottom lip.

 “Mine,” you repeated. Chris smiled and kissed you softly before he pulled back and slid into you, connecting your bodies with a smooth stroke.

 “You have me as daddy in your phone.” His smile was so full you were sure it was his cocky side coming out.

 “I’ll show you, daddy.”

 Chris pulled a moan from you, and you knew it was just the beginning. There was nothing like we’re officially together sex, especially territorial we’re officially together sex.