#Large Event Staff
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icewindandboringhorror ¡ 9 months ago
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Recent imageys
#photo diary#clouds of course.. always taking pictures of clouds lol. And a beautiful son going outside in his little box lol#he likes to sit in the sun. I don't like to take him out since he runs around trying to eat plants usually. But if I give him a box or some#specific spot to sit in then he'll usually just lay there and not be as antsy. Though still has to be constantly supervised. if I look away#for even a moment he instantly sees a Plant Eating Opportunity. Which he'll PRETEND he's just going to sniff it at first but as soon as#it's close enough to his face he's like 'HA! tricked you.. B I T E !!' =_=#also large strawberry. large dandelion. and heart shaped spinach leaf. All of these photo diary type images are thrown into one large#folder and I thought it was just an interesting occurence that there were three seperate similar looking pictures of me holding things#so why not also put them all next to each other. AND CHEESEHWEELS!!! The first time I've ever seen a large real cheesehweel#in real life... it's like meeting a celebrity... (< context is that i like to use cheesewheel imagery for certain things and in games I#always take screenshots anytime there's a cheesewheel. like I collected the cheesehweels in skyrim and had a basement full of#hundreds of them (not spawned with cheats. genuinely collected). and I name some of my game player characters 'cheesewheel' often (my mii#on the wii is named that. etc. etc.)). so truly exciting times indeed.... oh how I wish I wouldnt get in trouble with grocery store staff#if I were to pick one up off the counter and roll it around (I probably couldn't.. I tried to lift a corner of one and they seemed very#heavy). hrmm#Then also these little purple flowers I found growing wildly and thought they were very cute#And some pastrie type things from a bakery... which weren't that good actually. Only one of them was. but alas..#It was from a family event sort of thing so I didn't pay for them lol. still fancy LOOKing at least. even if not actually Good#Still have just been trying to write.. but I got my updated covid shot so I've been weird feeling and just resting grrrrghhh#Trying to get back to doing a few things.#giant cheesewheel give me strength and power...
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staff ¡ 1 year ago
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A message from a few of the trans staff at Tumblr & Automattic:
We want trans people, and LGBTQ+ people broadly, to feel welcome on Tumblr, in part because we as trans people at Tumblr and Automattic want it to be a space where we ourselves feel included. We want to feel like this is a platform that supports us and fights for our safety. Tumblr is made brighter and more vibrant by your presence, and the LGBTQ+ folks who help run it are fighting all the time for this, for you, internally. 
A few days ago, Matt Mullenweg (the CEO of Automattic, Tumblr’s parent company) responded to a user’s ask about an account suspension in a way that negatively affected Tumblr’s LGBTQ+ community. We believe that Matt's response to this ask and his continued commentary has been unwarranted and harmful. Tumblr staff do not comment on moderation decisions as a matter of policy for a variety of reasons—including the privacy of those involved, and the practicalities of moderating thousands of reports a day. The downside of this policy is that it is very easy for rumors and incorrect information about actions taken by our Trust & Safety team to spread unchecked. Given this, we want to clarify a few different pieces of this situation:
The reality of predstrogen's suspension was not accurately conveyed, and made it seem like we were reaching for opportunities to ban trans feminine people on the platform. This is not the case. The example comment shared in the post linked above does not meet our definition of a realistic threat of violence, and was not the deciding factor in the account suspension.
Matt thereafter failed to recognize the harm to the community as a result of this suspension. Matt does not speak on behalf of the LGBTQ+ people who help run Tumblr or Automattic, and we were not consulted in the construction of a response to these events.
Last year, the "mature" and "sexual themes" community labels were erroneously applied to some users' posts. An outside team of contractors tasked with applying community labels to posts were responsible for this larger trend of mislabeling trans-related content. When our Trust & Safety team discovered this issue (thanks largely to reports from the community), we removed the contracted team’s ability to apply community labels and added more oversight to ensure it does not happen again. In the Staff post about this, LGBTQ+ staff pushed to be more transparent but were overruled by leadership. The termination of a contractor mentioned in the original ask response was for an unrelated incident which was incorrectly attributed to this case. We regret that the mislabeling ever happened, and the negative impact it has had on the trans community on Tumblr. 
Transition timelines are not against our community guidelines, and weren’t a factor considered by the moderation team when discussing suspensions and subsequent appeals. We do not take action against content that is related to transitioning or trans bodies unless it includes violations of the Community Guidelines.
When it comes to the experience of trans folks on Tumblr encountering transphobic content, and interacting with bigoted users, we understand and share your frustrations. Tumblr’s policies, and Automattic’s policies, are written to ensure freedom of speech and expression. We prohibit harassment as defined in our Community Guidelines, but we know that this policy falls short of protecting users from the wider scope of harmful speech often used against LGBTQ+ and other marginalized people.
Going forward, Tumblr is taking the following actions:
Prioritizing anti-harassment features that will empower users to more effectively protect themselves from harassment.
Building more internal tooling for us as Staff to proactively identify and mitigate instances of harassment.
Reviewing which of the tags frequently used by the trans community are blocked, and working to make them available next week.
We’re sorry for how this all transpired, and we’re actively fighting to make our voices heard more and prevent something like this from happening again in the future. We know firsthand that having to deal with situations like this as a Tumblr user is difficult, particularly as a member of an already frequently targeted and harassed community. We know it will take time to regain your trust, and we’re going to put in the work to rebuild it.
We appreciate the space we have been given to express our concerns and dissent, and we are thankful that Matt’s (and Automattic’s) strong commitment to freedom of expression has facilitated it.
We will continue to fight to make Tumblr safe for us all.
— This statement was authored by multiple trans employees of Tumblr and Automattic.
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berryfairyluvr ¡ 6 months ago
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hihi I loved the zayne princess treatment post could you do a sylus one as well please 🥹💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝
sylus and his princess (queen) treatment
pairings: bf!sylus x fem!reader
warnings: none really, maybe minor mentions of some memories
a/n: thank you for the love and the request xx hope you enjoy <3
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With a high bounty on his head Sylus has many enemies. Now having you as his beloved partner in this dangerous life (and all the ones before and after) your life has taken priority over his own. Despite your stubborn tendencies, he always has eyes on you ensuring your safety.
He not so slyly suggests you stay at his place 99% of the time as an answer to any of your complaints claiming he has 'this and that' but really it’s to keep you close by.
You insist on waiting up for him after his many late night outings much to his opposition. The lamps dim lighting catching his eye through the window each time he returns to find you cutely tucked into yourself sound asleep on the plush couch. He’d chuckle quietly and scoop you into his arms carrying you bridal style down the dark hallways to the bedroom.
You often complained about the coldness of his marble flooring even in socks. He’s made sure to have his staff keep you slippers in your most visited rooms ever since.
You thought his shower was huge before? He had it expanded and added multiple shower heads. When you asked why, he responded with “Time is of the essence, now we can save it by showering together sweetie.”
He loves to accommodate you, adding a vanity to his bedroom, his and hers closet, shared armory access personalized just to your liking… The list goes on.
He’s discreetly possessive with his touches but it’s usually masked by his powerful demeanor. For instance, when the two of you are out he’s often guiding you on his arm or with his large hand splayed on the small of your back. At meals and meetings his hand finds its way to rest on your thigh.
He will not stand for any sign of disrespect towards you, those who haven’t learned that are met with something violently unpleasant. (Most times completely unbeknownst to you— Sylus makes sure you’re occupied)
You yap and he listens. Earnestly. And I mean undivided and devoted attention. He is so very fond of the way you light up like a child when speaking about your life.
His attention to detail is remarkable and he shows that in your everyday life. Whether it’s picking up on your favorite scent or noting what things make you relax more than others, he provides you with them as much as possible.
That travel magazine you’d been reading hadn’t gone unnoticed and to your surprise, he’d arranged for the two of you to escape reality and venture out for a vacation.
This man can compliment, and he can compliment goooood. He has no issue expressing his gratitude and respect for you through his words and oh boy is he good with his words.
Seeing you scared or fearful wounded him enough the first few times that it now melts him into a puddle at the first sign of worry from you.
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this is his *please don’t be worried/upset* look
He doesn’t mind one bit helping you bathe and dress after a long day of work. He even brushes your hair.
Your words mean everything to him, he wants to hear it. (He praises you for it in return 🤭)
For all the excursions you often clung to him like a backpack atop his bike— he decided a spare motorcycle helmet just wouldn’t do for you anymore and had one made to match his.
His date at any and every auction, he revels in getting to flaunt you around all dolled up and on his arm. Some even say his demeanor changed since you began attending these events with him..
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read zayne’s version here
read caleb’s version here
requests open ❤︎
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dragongirlsnout ¡ 1 year ago
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with regards to recent events,
dashboard unfucker will no longer be actively maintained, and the development of the Dashboard Plus extension is being shelved, along with all of my unpublished work for XKit Rewritten.
despite the fact that tumblr as a website is largely propped up by LGBTQ+ content creators, many of whom are trans women, the way this website has treated and continues to treat trans women is utterly disgusting.
from the harassment trans women face from this site's users, many of whom claim to be trans allies or are even trans themselves, to transphobic moderators targeting trans women and selling bans for money, all the way to the CEO of the website directly confronting a trans woman and threatening legal action against her for inactionable threats, tumblr has made it clear that it is by no means the queerest place on earth.
some of my trans sisters may remain on tumblr, even when faced with constant vitriol. i am deeply proud of them and their visibility in the face of hostility, however after seeing recent events unfold, and after being directly confronted by tumblr's CEO himself in a digusting display of indifference, i myself have decided to move onto better pursuits for the larger part. tumblr no longer holds the same shine for me that it did five years ago, and i can no longer justify spending hours of my time every week pouring more work and love into this site than any member of staff ever did.
i thank you all for the support you've given me in the past 8 months, whether through donations, contributions to the script, or even just sending me a kind message. i would ask that you show the same generosity and kindness to other trans girls in my absence, and especially to those who don't code, or write stories, or draw art. every trans girl is valuable, and their worth is more than any arbitrary set of talents. and a little love can go a long way.
yours truly,
dragongirlsnout
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fayes-fics ¡ 1 year ago
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Mirror, Mirror
Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader
Summary: When Benedict's wife tries on his clothes, things happen...
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Warnings: 18+ smut, minors DNI, cross-dressing, clothing kink, light biting, breast play, a smidge of intercrural sex, very mild exhibitionism, mirror sex, vaginal sex.
Word Count: 2.2k
Authors Note: Request fill for @d-caryophyllus (HERE) about Benedict being aroused by his wife dressing up in his clothing. I hope this fits what you were hoping for, my dear. Thanks as ever to @colettebronte for the beta read. Yes, the title is a nod to Season 3, lol. Err, enjoy! <3
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It’s early in the morning on a mundane Thursday when a somewhat daring idea forms in your mind. 
Fresh out of your morning bath, you dismiss your maid quietly when usually she would assist you with dressing for the day. As the double doors click closed discreetly behind her, you glance through the open archway into your bedroom; heavy curtains still drawn there, obscuring the sunlight. In the darkness, you can just decipher the outline of your husband sleeping soundly after a late night of carousing with his brothers.
With a little secret smile, you decide that, yes, now is the perfect time. He is asleep, and you have a few hours to spare until your first social engagement - a ladies' luncheon - so why not use the time to satisfy your curiosity?
You stride to your husband's side of the dressing room, opening his wardrobe doors and running your fingers over the items within—a symphony of wools, silks and cotton, all luxurious to the touch. While he is arguably one of the more flamboyantly dressed men of the Ton, with eye-catching jewel-toned waistcoats and colourful cravats, the basics of his outfit are mostly the same every time: dark trousers and a white shirt. A large part of you is envious of that easier choice. Sometimes, it feels like a veritable minefield being a woman during the social season, the looming threat of an unintended fashion faux pas simply by wearing the wrong colour to the wrong event.
Upon a chair, you spy the outfit he discarded when he came home in the early hours, not yet tidied away by your staff. You decide this shall be your choice, a frisson that they are already worn.
Dropping your bathrobe from your shoulders, you grab the pair of his trousers and pull them on. The finely woven wool feels plush on your skin, and there is an undeniable novelty in having fabric between your thighs. They are, however, almost comically long for you, and you have to bend to roll them up a few times around your ankles. Bemused, you briefly catch sight of your reflection in the full-length dressing room mirror, topless in oversized trousers. 
You snatch his white shirt and pull it on, pausing to tug the ruffled lapels up to your face and inhale deeply, enjoying the flood of scent there. His woodsy citrus cologne, yes, but also that undercurrent that is all him. That tang you cannot help but bury your face into, be it upon his pillow when he is away or his body while you cling to him, moving together in ecstasy. 
You fasten a few buttons, then tuck the shirt into the trousers and loop the braces hanging loose around your hips up onto your shoulders, once again inspecting your reflection in the mirror with a wry smile, twisting this way and that, admiring how different you look dressed in his clothing.
“Wife, what are you doing?” 
You almost jump out of your skin as that velvet tone, slightly roughened by sleep, calls out from across the room. You twist to see Benedict leaning casually upon the archway into the dressing room, shooting you a look that is pure menacing intrigue while looking like sin himself—all riotous bedhead, and, as your eyes slip further down, gloriously naked. It makes you swallow hard.
“I… I was trying on your clothes,” you stumble sheepishly, a blush creeping over your cheeks being caught doing something perhaps rather bizarre. 
“Any reason?” he queries, bemused, that crooked smile claiming his features.
“They just seem so much more practical and comfortable—especially trousers. I would like to wear such things…” you confess, turning back to the mirror to appraise your appearance again, watching him prowl towards you in the reflection. “Are… are you vexed with me, husband? For taking such liberties?” Your words petering out, mildly abashed.
A large, warm hand wraps around your shoulder, yanking you back almost roughly, making you gasp as your shoulder blades collide with his chest.
“The precise opposite,” he rumbles, his eyes meeting yours in the mirror, a sudden burning intensity that makes your lungs feel tight. 
Long fingers spider down his brocade brace, draped down your chest, lingering where the strap rests over your nipple, swiping his thumb in a deliberate tease, his face triumphant as you swoon back into him from just this simple touch. 
“My clothes look much better upon you than me,” he opines duskily, his lips tracing your temple as his fingertips push the brace aside to capture your nipple through the thin cotton shirt, making you inhale sharply. “Perhaps we should attend a party with you dressed like this?”
“That would be a scandal!” 
There is a vault in your stomach at the idea of attending a social event dressed in his clothes, even as you melt under his questing touch.
“Not in the more… bohemian… circles that I know of…” he contends; his breath is a warm gust in your ear as his other hand does the same, fondling both nipples now.
He waits until you meet his gaze in the mirror again, then lowers his lips to your neck and bites gently. His incisors a faint scrape, immediately soothed by a wide, wet lathe of his tongue. A little crest of victory as something sizeable stirs against the cleft of your bottom. 
“If I were dressed as you, then what would you wear, husband?” 
“Whatever you would like, my darling,” he offers between soft, damp kisses, a tingle running up your neck from his lips to the top of your scalp. “I could wear your clothing should you wish it. Or perhaps just your corset and underwear?” He nuzzles into you, taking a deep breath. “Our little secret…”
Something about his tone, the images he concocts, makes your blood run warm, your hand reaching up and diving into his luscious hair, tugging gently upon his roots so again he feels compelled to use his teeth, a groan bubbling up from within as he does. With a flick of his wrists, the braces fall from your shoulders, and he cups your breasts through his thin cotton shirt. It makes you sigh his name, asking for more, arousal coursing thickly through your veins—a yen to be taken right away. 
“The thought arouses you, does it not?” he correctly surmises, trailing his touch down over the shirt, brushing your ribs and belly to the fastening on the trousers, making short work of the buttons.
You nod demurely, biting your lip as you watch his dextrous hands in the mirror, his arms encircling you; it is almost as if he is removing them from himself. The air feels heady as he pushes the loosened fabric from around your frame, and it hits the rug with an audible thump.
Standing before him in just his ruffled white shirt with only a few buttons fastened, you feel his weighted stare in the mirror, lingering on the patch of hair at the apex of your thighs peeking out between the shirt sides.
“I shall prefer you keep this on…” he asserts, popping open a button over your chest so the fabric opens enough for him to slide a hand inside, tweaking your nipple and pulling you back into his frame, rutting his now solid cock against your bottom.
You turn your head to press your lips to his, imploring for more of his touch in a fervent whisper before seeking a kiss. His mouth is hot on yours, rolling his tongue with yours, endless caresses of your breasts as you burn so hot you rub your thighs together in delicious anticipation of more, already more than ready for him, your clit pulsing with each tease of his tongue.
“Here?”
You know what he is asking—if you wish to have sex right where you stand, in front of your dressing mirror, his shirt loose around your body, him naked behind you.
“Yes. Yes please…” you murmur into his mouth, rolling your body against him, telegraphing unmistakable need.
“The window is open,” he points out with a smirk, nodding towards a high window that allows in light to the dressing room but affords you not to be seen; it is open this morning to let in the summer breeze. “What if we are heard?”
“I care not,” you confess, exhaling jaggedly, knowing he likes you in this state, desperate and debauched, uncaring if you may be overheard in your pursuit of pleasure. 
Rubbing yourself upon him akin to a feline in heat, moving so his cock passes teasingly between your thighs now as you writhe. He groans and tells you not to stop, hissing his approval. So you squeeze your legs together tightly, allowing him to rut between them, the pass of his cock glancing maddeningly over your engorged clit.
His touch becomes heavier, hands mapping your body as his hips surge, and you see the red, weeping tip of his cock emerging and disappearing in the mirror, an intoxicating sight. You moan lightly with every pass, a tantalising swipe, not enough to bring you real pleasure, just notching your want higher.
He finally takes pity upon you, angling his hips differently and driving into you; you, moaning at the invasion so deep and encompassing, rocked up onto your tiptoes. Every time he has entered your body, it's always the same: a force that steals your breath and makes your eyes roll. His hands are a firm grip around your waist as he withdraws slowly back, then surges in again, capturing your earlobe in his teeth as he does.
As your eyes meet in the mirror, you idly wonder how many other wives are watching themselves being fucked by a handsome husband like this; a bright weekday morning, birdsong wafting in on the scented breeze, body wrapped only in his shirt. You suspect none are quite so lucky.
You moan his name and arch back against him, wrapping your hands around his neck and watching yourself being taken, relying on him to keep your stance steady as he starts to fuck into you in earnest, large hands sliding up to cup your breasts, engulfing them in his warm palms.
Unable to stop the noises you make, each pass hitting all the spots inside that make your toes curl into the thick pile of the rug beneath your feet, your pussy clenching around his invasion, making him growl and move faster, taking you harsher, an onslaught that is as pleasurable as it is powerful.
His mouth is a breathy litany of praise into your cheekbone, your eyes fluttering closed to focus on the carnal moment - the sweat, the skin, the ragged breaths, the meeting of your bodies so primal and glorious, but he has other ideas.
“Look at yourself,” he purrs dulcetly, your eyes reopening to do as he asks, to watch this unrestrained moment of passion, to see the little marks blooming on your body from where his fingers dig into your flesh as he pounds into you now, a flourish of colour on your neck from his thorough attention.
You plead for more throatily, pushing back as best you can against his thrusts, wanting him to make you scream, uncaring of any audience inside or outside your townhouse, only craving the sweet, blissful release he always provides.
Abruptly, he wrenches open the shirt you wear, one button pinging forward and tinking against the mirror before skittering across the floor, your naked body framed by his crisp white shirt, the ruffled lapels tickling the sides of your breasts, catching sight of his handsome face in the mirror contorted in a passionate tempest.
Then one hand slides down your front, you feeling it rippling in your belly and seeing it in your reflection before you until those fingers slide between your legs and hook over your clit with a force that steals the air from your lungs, a sharp stab of pleasure that makes your knees buckle, him pausing in his motions briefly to brace your weight, keep you upright.
Then it is a blur as he restarts his motion, his fingers dance on your swollen pearl, slipping silkily over his touch as he grunts encouragements. It feels like you are circling for so long, so close to something mind-blowing, but then he flicks harshly with his fingernail and bites your neck, and you are hurtling. Everything is loud and quiet at once, no doubt your voice calling his name as you tumble over the edge, clenching hard around him as your whole body shatters and rebuilds in a blissful puzzle. Dimly, as you float, you feel his entire body tense, and with a roar, he follows you over, a warmth blooming inside you as he reaches completion. 
There are a few moments of panted breaths as you both recover from the intensity before he spins you around and sweeps you into his arms, carrying you back to bed. There, he lays you down gently and proceeds to turn you into a molten, quivering pile, mapping your body with his lips and fingers until you are begging for him again, which he more than obliges. So much so you are almost late for your social engagement.
If there are a few derogatory looks as you swan into the ladies' luncheon with a blissful smile and a burgeoning mark on your neck from your husband's amorous intentions, well, so be it. You wouldn't change it for the world.
And it is also most definitely not the last time you dress up in his clothes…
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Benedict taglist pt 1: @makaylan @longingintheuniverse @iboopedyournose @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @fictionalmenloversblog @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz @kinokomoonshine @causeimissu @delehosies @m-rae23 @last-sheep @panhoeofmanyfandoms @kmc1989 @desert-fern @corpseoftrees-queen @magical-spit @bunnyweasley23 @how-many-stars-in-the-sky @sya-skies
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storiesfromgaza ¡ 2 years ago
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We are witnessing another massacre happening now
The occupation army contacted the director of Al-Shifa Hospital by sending a threatening message. The director of the hospital responded, stating that there are no resistance members in the hospital and that it is a civilian hospital providing care for the wounded and displaced.
Now, the occupation forces have cut off all communication around Al-Shifa Hospital in Gaza in preparation for the ongoing massacre. A true massacre is happening at Al-Shifa Hospital - intrusion and entry of vehicles, sniper bullets targeting those present, silencing their voices from the world!
Journalist Osama Al-Kahlout commented on the situation at Al-Shifa Hospital: "The occupation army is firing directly at medical teams inside Al-Shifa Hospital, with snipers targeting doctors. There are fears of the compound being stormed."
This is the latest video we received from Al-Shifa Hospital, documenting what happened during the occupation's shelling.
It's worth noting that the hospital houses a large number of patients, including infants and newborns.
After the Pentagon's statements and its incitement against the Al-Shifa Medical Complex, we are facing extremely difficult hours. the American statement gave a green light for the terrorist army to commit massacres against innocent people, the hospital, its wounded, patients, and medical staff.
The occupation fervently attempts to portray Al-Shifa Hospital as the focal point of its war on Gaza, suggesting that the 'fall of the hospital' signifies the complete collapse of Gaza. However, this is not merely for capturing images, and then the Zionists returning to their homes; it serves two dangerous purposes:
Boosting the morale of the Zionists and Americans, implying that the occupation army is achieving successes, giving Netanyahu and his army more time in Gaza.
Pushing the Palestinian people and their supporters into despair and frustration, raising the white flag with the belief that 'everything is over with the fall of the hospital.'
We must clearly see through this game and not be deceived. Hamas has never claimed that the hospital is strategically or politically important; it has consistently stated that it is just a hospital providing essential humanitarian services. Hamas has even invited international institutions to enter the hospital and verify its nature.
The hospital holds no significance in the balance of war or the developments in military events. Do not let them exploit and demoralize you for nothing."
So always remember that regardless of the images the occupation broadcasts to justify its crimes against the Al-Shifa Hospital, keep in mind the following: there is no military activity originating from this place; it is solely a hospital. Israel and America have decided to designate it as a military target
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sourcherryandsprinkles ¡ 1 year ago
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Jace and betrothed unable to wait until their wedding night to have sex??
Request: Jacaerys and his future wife fooling around because they are horny and scared they will die before getting married. I don’t want my boy to die without tasting the greatness of sex
How did this smut piece get to 2.2k words? 😳
Warnings: 18+, smut, masturbating, fingering, p + v, 
my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time
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—
‘’I’m scared, Jace,’’ you confessed as you stood by the banister of Dragonstone castle, watching as Vermax and Silverwing flew together over the bay. Hopefully Silverwing will lay eggs when you and Jacaerys have children. ‘’The war is getting closer to us. Soon, we’ll have to get on our dragons and battle against the enemy. We…we might die.’’
Death was inevitable during a war. Especially one with dragons, as Rhaenys once said. Team Black had already suffered a couple of losses — Lucerys, Rhaenys, Ser Erryk —, but more would come. 
‘’The thought of what’s coming is terrifying, but we can’t let ourself be paralyzed by the possibility of dying,’’ Jacaerys said, his hand securely on the handle of his sword. He had taken the habit from Daemon, whom he looked up to in certain aspects. 
You looked down at your bare hands on the top of the banister. ‘’I’m not scared of death, I’m scared of dying without ever calling you husband.’’ 
A few weeks before the petition of Driftmark, you and Jacaerys had announced your betrothal. Rhaenyra had a feast in celebration, proud and happy that her eldest son would marry without any politics involved. The wedding should have happened in the summer, but the King fell to his illness and from there unraveled a series of unfortunate events that postponed the wedding.  
‘’When the war ends and I sit on my throne, we’ll have a large celebration in the Red Keep,’’ the Queen had promised.
But you were tired of waiting. 
‘’Every night, as I lay in bed, I think of you and our life if there hadn’t been a war of succession. I would call you husband, my prince husband, and we would not be sleeping in separate beds across the castle. No one would be chaperoning us from afar and we would not get scolded for sharing ‘too long’ kisses.’’
Jacaerys put his hand over yours on the bannister, sharing the same feelings. He wanted to call you his wife and glare at whoever dared speaking wrong to you. He wanted to spend the evening alone in your shared chambers, eating cakes and talking about your day until one of you fell asleep first. He wanted…he wanted to take you to his bed and have a family with you. Not whilst the war was going. He could not deal with the stress of his pregnant wife going to battle on her dragon. 
A few days later, you were sitting in your settee, reading in your nightgown when you heard a light knock on the door. You raised your head from your book, and saw that a piece of parchment had been slipped beneath your door.  
Meet me when the moon is bright. Careful when you take the stairs, Ser Godric is keeping guard.
The message was not signed, but you recognized the handwriting. 
When you judged the moon was bright enough, you slipped a robe over your nightgown and quietly walked down the corridor to take the stairs to Jacaerys’ chambers. You listened carefully for any guards, not wishing to get caught sneaking to you betrothed’s chambers at the hour of the owl. It would make quite the scandal amongst the servants and the staff. 
You knocked delicately on the door and bit your lip as you waited, your stomach bubbling with excitement. Within a few seconds, the door opened and Jacaerys pulled you inside. 
The room was quite dark as the sun was asleep, only the fire of the hearth and a few candles on a table as sources of light. You noticed the small crumpled balls of parchment on the study, assumingly drafts of his message to you. It had to be not too suggestive, but also not too plain that you would not want to come.
‘’I didn't know if you were going to come,’’ Jacaerys said, his lips curved into a shy smile. 
He was wearing just a tunic and wool trousers. It felt strange to see him without his doublet and riding gear. His dark brown hair was messy and his cheeks flushed from what you could make from the light. He looked so different from the usual picture-perfect prince. 
‘’You asked to see me.’’ 
Jacaerys stepped closer. He raised his hand to stroke your cheek, then your hair, which he seemed taken by. ‘’I didn’t know your hair was so long. You always have them up in braids or pins,’’ he said, his tone soft with wonder.
A slight smile tugged at your lips. ‘’What is it that you wanted, Jace? I doubt you summoned me her to talk about my hair.’’ 
‘’I’ve been thinking. About us.’’ He paused for a moment, looking into your eyes. ‘’The Gods have been unfair to us. So let’s not wait for them to bless and unite us.’’
Your brows drew into a light frown. ‘’Jace, what do you—’’ you began, but he stepped closer, his forehead resting against yours. 
He stepped closer, the fire in the hearth reflecting in his eyes. ‘’Do you love me?’’ 
‘’With all my heart,’’ you replied without hesitation, your eyes filled with sincerity. 
‘’Let’s not wait, then. I…I don’t want to waste our time together waiting for this damn war to be over to take you to bed.’’ 
Jacaerys placed his hands on your hips and pulled you flush against him, his grip loose, giving you time to pull from his grasp if you wanted it. But you didn't. 
Instead, you looked up at him and kissed him, closing the remaining space between you. You kissed him like you've done many times before, only this time you didn't have to pull away every twenty seconds to check if a maester, guard or the Queen was around. You’ll never forget the embarrassment you felt that day…
Jacaerys whimpered as you pulled his bottom lip with your teeth, and pressed you against him, desire spreading through his veins, hot like dragonfire. With less layers between your bodies, you could feel the warmth of his chest through your nightgown, and his...little friend stiffening in his trousers.
‘’Someone is excited,’’ you murmured with a giggle as you broke the kiss to plant a trail of kisses down his neck instead. 
He let out a low moan, tightening his grip on your hips. ‘’I cannot control it when you’re around. Especially when you kiss me.’’ Jacaerys captured your lips into another kiss, and tingles caressed your spine and tickled your lower stomach. 
His hands grabbed and pulled at the material of your robe and nightgown, and you rolled your hips, igniting more of his dragonfire. Jacaerys moaned at the contact, louder than he intended. Your own cheeks turned red, realizing you were starting to reach an intimacy you had never breached before.
‘’I’m nervous,’’ you whispered, biting your lip as you thought of getting intimate. 
You placed your hands on Jacaerys’ chest, distracting yourself from your mind. His heart was beating fast, probably just as nervous. 
‘’We don't have to do anything if you don’t feel ready to.’’
You shushed him with a finger to his lips. ‘’I want to.’’ 
To prove yourself, you untied your robe and placed it on the back of the settee, right next to Jacaerys’ sword. The prince's breathing quickened, his dark eyes fixated on your fingers as you unlaced the ties of your nightgown, slowly unraveling the knot. You sucked in a breath as you pulled it down your shoulders, letting it slip down your body until it reached the floor.
Silence greeted your naked body, and you felt shy suddenly. You almost reached for your robe to cover yourself, but your betrothed sensed your uneasiness and stroked your cheek before taking off his tunic and trousers. He found it unfair for you to be naked while he was still clothed.
Once you were even, he guided you backwards towards his bed. The headboard had a large dragon engraved in the stone and seemed a little bigger than yours. The sheets were pale, and over top was a deep red blanket made of velvet to keep warm from the winds coming from the bay.
Jacaerys sat on the edge and, with an expression of fascination, he reached for your breasts. He made sure to be gentle, sliding his thumbs gently over your rapidly hardening nipples. ‘’By the Sevens, you’re beautiful,’’ he marveled, stars in his eyes. 
‘’I can say the same, my prince.’’ You pressed your palm over his chest, smooth and warm.
Jacaerys smiled, that one soft and genuine smile he reserved for you. ‘’I love you,’’ he said, his hands caressing your side in small, gentle circles. 
‘’I love you to— Aah,’’ you whimpered as his hand reached between your legs, stroking your slit clumsily. He didn't know what he was doing, and lacked finesse as he bumped against your clit at random moments, but it still felt amazing. 
He checked on you, wanting to please. ‘’Does that feel good?’’
‘’Yes.’’ 
His fingers were getting slippery from your arousal, making it easier to slide against your cunny. You’ve done it to yourself a few times, alone in your bed. 
‘’Can you put one inside?’’ 
Jacaerys’ fingers were a bit thicker than yours, and longer. 
He nodded. 
A breathy moan left your lips instantly, pleasure sparkling as your walls clenched around his middle finger. 
‘’Like that?’’ Jacaerys slid his finger out, then back in, repeating the motion as you grabbed his shoulder. 
‘’Yes. Again.’’ 
He listened to your needs, almost forgetting his own as his cock remained untouched against his stomach. It was engorged and painful. While one hand was busy pleasuring you, he wrapped his second around his cock and jerked himself. 
 You noticed and thought of helping him, but Jacaerys added a second finger and your knees almost gave out. The feeling was overwhelming, but you craved more. 
You pushed Jacaerys away, and clambered over his lap. His gaze met yours, equally filled with lust. With a nod from your lover, you reached down to grab his cock and lined it at your entrance, sinking down slowly, inch by inch. 
The intensity of the sensation had you gripping at each other, needing to anchor yourself to something. It was unpleasant at first, feeling a pressure and a stinging inside your intimate tunnel. You felt full in a way that was impossible to describe.
Feeling your fingers dig into his skin, Jacaerys kissed your shoulders and neck to sooth you, trying his hardest not to move by fear to blow too soon or hurt you. It was overwhelming for him too — the feeling of your tight walls squeezing him.
You rose up slightly, and then sank back on with tenderness. Jacaerys moaned deeply with you, his head dropping against your collarbone. He closed his eyes, his hands squeezing your hips as you moved up and down again, the pressure around his cock heavenly.  
Your bodies moved together in a rhythm, becoming one. 
When your legs fatigued, you let Jacaerys know and he moved you on the bed and laid you down on the rich velvet. He adjusted himself to the new position, his dark curls falling like curtains around his face as he thrusted into you with long deep strokes.
‘’Kiss me,’’ he demanded.
You complied, winding your arms around his neck and rocking your hips to meet his thrusts until you reached your high with a broken cry. 
Seconds later, Jacaerys pulled out and spilled onto your thighs, not wanting to deal with the consequences of having sex out of wedlock. 
The bed creaked as he collapsed beside you, breathing heavy. As if an invisible string was pulling you to him, you rolled on your side and clung to him, needing to be close after sex. You stayed that way for a long time, relaxing with your head on Jacaerys' bare chest. Your legs felt like jelly, still dizzy from the intense emotions and the overwhelming pleasure. 
You wished you could suspend time and stay there with him forever. But a soft yawn brought you back to reality.
‘’I must leave,’’ you said, feeling the tiredness catching you. It was difficult not to be lured to sleep when you were cuddling under the covers and Jacaerys’s hand was stroking your back gently.
His arms caged around you, protesting. ‘’Stay.’’ He nuzzled into your neck, his voice muffled. ‘’It’s a command from your prince.’’ 
His tone was unserious, but it still made you guilty and sad to leave him. 
‘’I do not wish to leave and sleep in my bed alone, but I must be found in my own chamber when the maids come in the morn.’’ 
Jacaerys sighed, rubbing his face into your hair. ‘’I know,’’ he said, his voice a mixture of resignation and frustration. 
Reluctantly, his arms slowly unwound from around you and you peeled yourself from him, releasing a small hiss when you sat up. The septa had warned you about the pain after breaking your maidenhead. It wasn’t unbearable, only sensitive when you moved. 
‘’I didn't hurt you, didn't I?’’ Jacaerys immediately asked, his eyes filled with concern as he checked on you.
You shook your head and smiled, washing his guilt away. ‘’No. You were perfect, Jace.’’ 
He knew it was untrue. No one was perfect the first time. 
You struggled dressing back into your nightgown and robe, having to fight with Jacaerys’ lips trying to kiss you and his arms pulling you against him. You gave him a last longing kiss before slipping out of his chambers, promising to see him to break fast. 
—
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anomaly-hivemind ¡ 9 months ago
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Whore Convention ☆ Ghostface, Michael Meyers, Jason Voorhees, Pennywise, Jeepers Creepers, Slenderman, Eyeless Jack, Laughing Jack, Albert Wesker, and Pyramid Head x Reader | Kinktober Day 9
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Summary: Part two of horror convention (part one), reader uses their VIP pass to have some fun at different stations.
Word Count: 2673
Tags: free use, gangbang, rough sex, overstimulation, mask kink, cum as lube, fem reader,, degradation, spit-roasting, creampies, convention, non-human characters, non-human genital, size difference, size kink, large cock, manhanding, spit as lube, face fucking, semi-public, multiple orgasm, vaginal fingering, monsterfucking, double penetration. Anal, tentacles, bukkake
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It's that time of year again, it was time to go to another horror convention. You have been to a couple of them, all very entertaining in their own right but this one feels like it's going to have a different vibe at least according to your friend. She had gone to her first convention last year and swore that it was the best experience of her life and even changed her forever. ( her words). She gave you her VIP ticket because something had come up and she couldn’t make it. So she begged you to go, like literally begged and you were sure she would have cried if you said no. Saying that this opportunity could not be wasted just because of her and that quote on quote someone needs to have their holes filled in her place, which you are sure is some random euphemism she made up or something.
You had nothing better to do on a near Halloween weekend, nothing you cared about that is. You put on a nice cosplay from Jennifer's body. You were wearing a very purple cheerleading outfit, its skirt wasn't incredibly short and the top even though it was long-sleeved was a bit too small so it was a bit cropped. But that's all alright because you look good and a few people recognized the DK on the shirt.
You looked down at your VIP pass to see the location and the time. As well as a cute little skull on the corner. It was on the furthest corner of the building you were in but you still have time to buy or look at a few things before you walk over to that event spot. All you got were a few posters for your room, you even had time to put them back in your car.
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You walked to your Vip event spot in the convention building. It didn't seem like there were a lot of people over here beside you. A person leads you into the room and you go and sit in the small crowd. The spokesperson you assumed got on the stage and spoke into the mic.
“May our lucky vip please come to the stage” the woman spoke and everyone waited For someone. You also look around for a moment wondering who it was but no one came to the stage.
“um if you have a skull of your pass you our lucky vip… could you come on the stage.” You looked down at your card… and noticed that you had a skull. Well shit.
You reluctantly get up and head to the stage, after you were sure that no one else was gonna get up and then confirm once with a door staff that you were in fact the person they were talking about. While they shoved a paper for you to sign, you didn't bother reading much of it and just wrote your signature. It was something like a consent to participate in the event and you didn't want to be kicked out so you didn't hesitate.
You look out in the crowd, now feeling like there were more people now that you weren't among all of them and a bunch of them were in hardcore cosplay.
“Now look at you all pretty up for our little event.” the woman said and could you hear her southern accent. You smiled and thanked the woman.
“What am I supposed to do?”
“Well why don't you pick a set of crowd goers. Doesn't matter how many.”
You assume this was some kinda cosplay contest and you got to pick. You picked A secluded few people who looked like they were straight from the respective franchise.
They all came up to the stage one after the other. You had to pick the Creeper, it almost gave you chills looking at him, the fit was spot on. Then you picked a Pennywise because you love a good clown. Purely for nostalgia you picked the few creepypasta you saw that being Eyeless Jack and Laughing Jack, you were sure that the slenderman had mechanical tentacles that even looked wet. Then your guilty pleasure of yours from all the mask wearers Ghostface, Michael Myers, Jason Voorhees and Pyramid Head and lastly you picked the Person who basically Could be his doppelganger Albert Wesker.
You shiver now they are all in front Of you. They were huge, like unnaturally so and you can't tell nor see any stilts. It makes A nervous sound come out of you as you have to look Up at most if not every single one of the men In front of you.
“Well that's a hefty pickin’s you've got.” The woman said before snapping her fingers a few times. Quick moving staff brought up some kind of privacy curtain. It made you confused. You looked at all ten of the people you had selected and just stood there.
“Well make sure you get a wheelchair after the event but don't keep your guess waitin’” she smirks.
“What?”
“You sighed the paperwork right?”
“Uhm yes?”
“Oh then your good, have fun being fucked and sucked.” with those words the spokeswoman ran off stage.
Your eyes widened as you realized what you had signed you for, that being to your consent form for some sex event your friend was supposed to be at instead of you. A shaky breath leaves your lips, you really picked a group of strangers to fuck you. A group of men who were all taller and bigger than you. What was most shocking to you though was the fact that you weren't fully opposed to all of it, if not a bit nervous. But you were down for it in a slightly whorish way.
Up close you couldn't help but look at how detailed each Of these men looked, if you were delusional or something like that you may assume right away that they were the real thing, but that was a completely crazy idea. Right?
Ghostface was the first to make a move on you. Practically ripping your shirt off and it falls to the ground then stealing your panties which you don't think you'd be getting back anytime soon or at all for that matter. You felt like the main character a porno being topless with just a mini skirt and shoes on. All of them were muttering pleased comments for the most part.
“What a willing whore” Wesker said, and his voice caused you to shiver in delight from how spot on it is. Actually they all sounded like their canon voices at least the talkers did. You didn't get much time to be shocked or think about it, when a tendril brought you to your knees. It felt slimy and wet and you couldn't help but touch it.
Jason bends your ass up as rubs his fat fingers between your folds. You bite back hiss, it was too much fiction too soon. Who noticed and pulled away for a moment . The Creeper smirks before moving near Jason and spits on you. You feel his thick saliva sliding down your lower lips and a bit down one of your legs. Jason moves his fingers back against his folds, this time with much ease. You could feel your arousal start to make way now.
The one with The blue mask stands in front of you while unzipping his pants. His cock jumping for your attention, you wrap A hand around it. You cover it in your mouth’s moisture and give it a few strokes, effectively coating his gray shaft with your spit. You open your mouth to get ready to take him. You look up at him as he grips your face and shivers his cock into your mouth. You gagged around him as the rough actions but try to avoid biting him. He was so distracting that almost didn't register Jason pushing two fingers into your walls. His fingers were very thick and it caused you to moan and Eyeless Jack's cock.
“Going a bit easy there” the scratchy voice of the monochromatic clown laughed out.
You weren't paying attention to what the clown said because all you really could think about was how good Jason was making you feel. You could feel your orgasm jumping to make a first appearance everytime you would feel the hockey masked man’s knuckle constantly brushing at your clit. Eyeless Jack was getting sloppy with his thrust and you knew he was getting closer and with you hollowing out your cheeks to help he started to topple over with pleasure. His cock throbbed a few times before shooting his load into your throat forcing you to swallow the cool liquid.
You were falling into your own peak and you could feel it becoming one with your senses, your eyes closed tight and your legs shaking as you fell past the teerting edge. You wanted to curse out as your orgasm gets cut short when Jason gets pulled away by another person, effectively ruining your orgasm. You let out a whimper, but it didn’t take long for the hole to be filled, you get shrouded in the shadow of the muscular pyramid head. You looked back at the beefy man and shivered. He was huge, very potential to be seven feet tall. He plunges his cock into you, and a scream, even with how wet you were he was large and stretching you out. Your eyes watered and a part of you felt like you could die.
“That's what I like to hear” Pennywise chortled with sadistic amusement.
Pyramid head was rough on you, completely focused on himself and made sure that you were taking him fully with each thrust. It was as if you were mush and you didn't think you could be overwhelmed so fast but you were, and if slenderman’s tendrils weren't holding you up, you'd surely collapse on the stage floor. The tentacles were kneading and groping your breast with a slick texture that was cold on your skin. He was moving with little mercy but even passing the hurt it felt good to you. You could feel him throbbing inside you, it almost felt like you had a lower heartbeat because of it. You wanted to use one of your hands to touch yourself up. It gets taken and occupies hisdick.
“Sluts worry about others first.” Ghostface spoke using your hand to stroke his cock.
You moan, feeling your eyes roll back when a new contender moves in front of you. You look up at them, it was Jason; your gentle giant that had done some help, loosening you up. You open your mouth for him, your tongue hanging out ready to take him. He pushed his thick length into your mouth, you wrapped your lips around him and started to suck him off. It was the mix of Pyramid head getting ready to fill you with his seed, sucking off Jason and jerking off Ghostface. It was a complete sensory overload and you don't know if you'll make it to the end of it all. It was a mix of muffled groans and your also muffled moans.
You feel the borderline hot cum filling you up and trying to push past his cock. He makes sure to pull out of you as slowly as he could as if he didn’t want to leave Pennywise the first to take his place and quickly while wiggling his fingers before coiling around his hips. His cock felt like he was shifting inside you. It has ridges that were scratching at your walls pushing cum deeper into your cunt. He was thrusted into you into you wildly; he was giggling wildly with each movement.
Slenderman comes up from behind you. A slimy tendril prodding your tight ring of muscle. He circled around the outside spreading slimy fluid before he pushed in the wriggling limb. As he pushed it deeper into your rectum. The circumference widened. It stretched your whole beyond what you believed it could. He was literally in your guys right now, but it felt good. You moaned around the cock in your mouth with it pushed and wiggled around you.
When he slipped out his tentacle you thought it was over but then he thrusted in two of the appendages into your anus. You yelped around Jason and small tears sprang in your eyes. Surprisingly though, it didn’t hurt as much as you thought it would.
Jason fills your mouth with his gooey essence, happily. Then after him cums Ghostface, coating your hand in its sticky substance. The domino effect causes you to have yet another orgasm and as you clench around Pennywise swells up a bit before filling you with his rainbow clown Jizz.
They leave you a cum dumped mess with slenderman’s appendages rocking in their pendulum pattern. You felt like you were going to pass out but your holes still had a guest to attend to. Wesker and Myers go for your mouth and cunt respect. Weaker pulls your hair back as he pushes his cock into your hole and Michael was basically throat fucking you.
The Creeper and Laughing Jack then made you stroke them off. You felt like you had been thoroughly passed around and anyone Who had you before was jacking off as you got used like a fleshlight. You have another climax and you were sure everything had gone dark for a few seconds but the bounce of that seemed to matter, to the men of the mattered.
“An Excellent whore to take all of us” Wesker let out a groan as he slammed his hips into you over and over. You felt like we're going to cum all over again. His words make you shiver a bit and you start to clench around him, he slaps your ass like a silent approach. Michael was holding your face with a tight grip as he would take slow strokes all the way out of your mouth before ramming back down your throat. It was causing gag reflects a bit as he ruts his hips into you.
The tentacles pumping in and out of you sped up, the tendrils rubbing against you and each other. It felt like ripples coming through them before warm fluid filled your anal cavity. The semen kept coming and coming it’s like it was almost never ending until finally he pulled the tentacles out leaving you back entrance gaping and puckering. The cum poured out like a water leak, dripping down your ass and legs. You glanced down to see the black viscous liquid creeping down your legs.
You felt like you may have choked to death if you went breathing through your nose. The Creeper was looking at you with a hungry gaze as he started to thrust into your hand. Michael started moving faster, taking shorter strokes between your lips before he let out a hushed breath of pleasure. You almost coughed up the amount of thick fluids that had filled your mouth at once, you managed, then he pulled away. Laughing Jack was tracing patterns into your skin as he let out stroke him at your decided pace. You hold his slender cock in your hand in a firm grip, he was already leaking cum before a strong spray hits you in the face.
You could hear some groans and muffled heavy breaths from the men surrounding you. Their hands stroked themselves with vigor. Seemingly all at the same time they blew their loads onto you, painting your bodies with an array of hot cum. All which coat your skin with different levels of thickness and temperatures. Some were stickier than others, some watery. Different colors and smell. They all were panting, you included when the spokeswoman came back with a towel and your promised wheelchair. You had no energy, barely any to get up and put your close back on.
Your friend was right, this was a life changing experience
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pascaloverx ¡ 5 months ago
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SHAMELESS
Summary: You are moving into the Leister mansion after tragically losing your father in a plane crash. He worked for William Leister, who immediately offered to take you in. The problem? His son, Nick Leister, who is far from pleased about having a stranger living under his roof.
Author's Note: My slight fixation on Matthew Broome led me to create this fanfic, but I can’t guarantee it will be good. So, dear reader, if you enjoy it, please interact and comment. The fanfic will likely contain strong language, violence, and adult content. Minors should not engage with it.
two
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ONE
It's like a fairy tale—a young, poor woman turning into the new Cinderella. At least, that's what the media is saying. But that’s not exactly what’s happening in your life.
Your father spent his life working for William Leister. During a business trip, the plane he was on crashed, leaving no survivors. You had just started college and taken a part-time job to help your father pay the tuition. And now, you don’t even know what to do.
Well, actually, you do. You’re packing your bags to move in with your father’s former boss. He feels guilty, even if he won’t admit it, and decided to invite you to live with him and his son. So now, you’re leaving the house you grew up in to step into what the internet is calling a princess’s life.
They even sent a car to pick you up, which feels quite fancy. You still can’t believe the size of the place you’ll be living in—in fact, you feel almost out of place.
"I hope you had a pleasant trip," William says, embracing you gently. His staff carries your bags inside the mansion.
"It was smooth," you reply, following William inside his home. "With all due respect, sir, your house—or rather, your mansion—is truly enchanting," you say, marveling at everything around you.
"There’s no need to call me ‘sir.’ Just William is fine. Now, my house is quite large, and unfortunately, I’m running late for a charity event. It won’t take long, but I’m sure Nick will show you around," Mr. Leister says as he adjusts his suit and tie.
You feel a bit uneasy about relying on his son, but you nod in agreement and watch as he leaves the mansion, a bouquet of flowers in his hands—probably for a date.
"Are you planning to just stand by the door?" A male voice speaks from behind you. Surprised, you turn around.
"Not at all, but I fail to see how that’s any of your concern," you reply, still standing in place. It might have sounded rude, but he doesn’t seem too pleased either.
"Some might say that since you’re in my house, you could be a bit more polite," Nick says as he descends the stairs, his gaze fixed on you.
"If this is your way of saying you want me gone, you don’t have to say it twice," you retort, turning to grab your suitcase and leave. It might be a bit drastic, but you’re not about to be humiliated by some rich boy.
Before you can go upstairs to get your bags, however, Nick catches your arm—not forcefully, despite his muscular build, but just enough to stop you. The closeness between you is enough for you to catch the scent of his cologne. He, however, is clearly staring at your lips.
"You’re a guest of my father. It wouldn’t be right for me to make you leave. If anyone should leave, it’s me," Nick says, his eyes studying you, while you’re too focused on the proximity between you to say anything.
"Perhaps we should try not to get on each other’s nerves… at least for a while," you whisper, leaning in slightly. The tension is palpable, as if the two of you are trying to read each other through your gaze.
"We’ll see what the future holds," Nick replies before finishing his descent. "Oh, in case my father didn’t mention it, I don’t usually stay here overnight," he adds with a smirk, leaving you wondering what you’re supposed to do alone in this place.
"And I’m supposed to stay here all by myself?" you ask, surprised—or maybe indignant. Not that you need a babysitter, but you don’t even know where anything is.
"If you’d rather, you can come with me. But preferably, I think you’ll want to stay here—it’s safer," he says, sounding like some secret agent or mobster.
"I suppose I’ll have to go just to see how much danger I can handle," you reply, stepping closer and looking him in the eye, your faces mere inches apart.
"If you say so," he mutters, feigning disinterest.
"Your father said you’d show me the mansion," you remind him. You’re certain he won’t want to, but you can at least try.
"I think you’ll manage to find your way around. But if you do get lost, you can call my name—whether I answer or not, we’ll see," he says smugly before walking away, leaving you standing there.
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bbokicidal ¡ 3 months ago
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7 : 0 0 | H . J S
── .✦ content warning : fem!reader, flirting, light touching (thigh), dirty talk, rubbing/intimate touching
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Stray Temptations ; Bbokicidal 4K Event Proposal : Couch Room Session Staff Member Requested : Han Jisung Meeting Time: 7:00 PM ; Saturday Evening
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[Location : Main Stage : 5:30 PM]
"Jisung, you've got a client."
The woman's voice startles him for a second, Jisung's body turning away from his mixing table to instead face their manager who had appeared at the side of the stage only moments before. She peers up at him curiously, cocking a brow before lifting a hand to gesture to the side of her head as if turning a knob against her ear.
Jisung gets the hint and tugs his headphones off, blinking rapidly in an attempt to figure out what it was she said. He needed to be a little better in the future about remembering when he had his headphones on and when he didn't; Or at least remembering to keep one side tucked back off his ear. "What did you say?"
"You have a client." She repeats, one hand coming to rest on her hip. "Private Session later today."
The DJ's eyes widen in surprise. He presses a hand to his chest, fumbling a little from the new information. "Me? I do?" His lips immediately curl into a smile and he can't help the way he flushes in excitement. "When? What time?"
"Uh," Maxine looks down at the paper in her hand, eyes scanning the brief request before looking back up to him. "Seven o'clock. Room One -" She gestures across the large space filled with the dance floor, poles on the stage, and a few velvet curtains across the way that each lead to different rooms for private sessions. "So please don't be late. And find someone to cover for you for at least an hour, yeah?"
"Got it; Can do, boss man! Er - woman. Sorry." Jisung tries to reply smoothly, leaning against the mixing table as he eyes the manager walking away from him to go instead scold the bartender for openly ogling a customer the night before. He sighs out, smiling to himself shortly after. He could do this - He'd be fine! It was just his first private client... ever.
-
[Location : Main Stage - Private Room 1 : 6:58 PM]
Jisung makes sure to find coverage for the main stage while he's away on private business. He convinces Hyunjin to take over the mixing table while he's busy, giving Felix a heads up - and warning - that Hyunjin will be filling in for him for about an hour that evening. The dancer rolls his eyes with a smile and wishes Jisung good luck as he leaves the stage, the time reading 6:58 PM.
As he heads to room one, he realizes he's never quite been inside of it before. He usually isn't requested for private events like this, given he's usually too busy with working all of the music that plays through the club from 6 PM - 2 AM every night. And honestly - He loves his job! So he isn't too upset that he doesn't have many private bookings for sessions like this. Though, truly, he is honored to have someone want him away from everyone else.
As he pushes the velvet curtain open just enough to step in, his eyes fall to you already sitting pretty on the red leather couch set up just across from the curtain. He smiles at the sight of you and lets the curtain fall shut behind him, making his way over so he can take a seat beside you. The couch is large enough for two spacious cushions - but small enough that his knees are forced to touch yours with the way he sits to face you. This meeting should be personal, flirty - enticing. Something to get the client to come back for more.
"It's a pleasure to meet the beauty who requested my presence in private," Jisung coos with a soft chuckle, his hands settling in his lap as he glances you over. Your expression is soft and warm - inviting, almost, and Jisung finds himself relieved and happy that someone so sweet was the person who asked for him. "What's your name?" He hums - and after you reply, his smile only grows. "A name just as beautiful as the woman it's assigned to. I'm - Jisung, by the way. I don't know if you knew that or not, I --"
It was working already, if you were honest. Jisung's soft charms and the way he spoke so suave (or tried to) to you were definitely factors that were already making you itch for more. Maybe you should've booked a longer session..
"I have to ask, just out of curiosity; Is there a reason you asked for me specifically?" Jisung quips, his voice taking on a softer tone as to not seem accusatory towards you.
He watches your smile grow, your head tipping down in an almost bashful manner. "I've been here before," You reply, cheeks rosy, "And the last time I was here I was really close to the stage up front? And I uhm - You were just.. really pretty, and really charming and the way you interacted with the crowd felt so intimate." Your eyes turn up to find Jisung's mouth open, his expression something of quiet awe.
"You really think so?" He chuckles out the words, pressing a hand to his chest. "Thank you. I'm.. honored you felt that way. I mean - I'm glad I was able to give you that experience. I always try to interact with people as much as I can even if I'm on stage and can't really.. you know. One on one like this often."
"Well I'm glad I got you in here," Your smile is infectious to Jisung and he can't help the way his cheeks burn at the comment coming from your lips - so pretty and glossed up just for this meeting with him.
Something pushes Jisung to carefully maneuver his body closer to your own, one of his hands coming down to lay atop your thigh. His fingers close, gently squeezing at the bare skin as he smiles. "I'm glad you got me alone, too." He hums, "You have to tell me a little about yourself. About what you like in these types of situations. You know - being intimate." His thumb slides back and forth slowly over your skin as he leans in closer.
It catches you a bit off guard with the way he tucks his face down into your neck, his breathing soft and gently fanning over your skin in a way that made you shiver. "Me? I.. like..." You hesitate, eyes darting around over his shoulder in a weak attempt to focus. "I like kissing, and --" You swear you feel his lips part against your throat, his tongue sliding slowly over your skin. "Jisung, I can't focus," You manage to laugh out the words.
"I can tell," He chuckles, smiling into the junction of your shoulder. "You didn't think I was going to go easy on you just because it's our first time properly meeting, right? I work in a Strip Club - I'm not going to be all gentle with you." Jisung peeks up, "And I like to play with people like this. Tell me what you like or I'm going to have to stop; And you don't want that, do you sweet girl?"
"I like --" You suck in a breath that proves Jisung's point, his lips pressing soft kisses over your skin slowly as you continue talking. He knows it's a little mean to be teasing you so relentlessly but this is what you paid for, right? "Marking, and being marked. And I like taking things slow and dragging it all out," You whisper the last bit but Jisung catches it with ease. His lips connect to your skin again, his finger hooking into the top of your dress to tug the fabric down so he can suck a soft pink mark just above your chest.
He lets you take a moment to breathe as he sucks a few light marks into your skin, glancing up shortly after with a smile that's nothing short of cunning; Devious, even. Jisung's hand had began to trail up your thigh, his fingertips carefully pushing under the dress as he gauges your reaction. He watches the way your lashes flutter as your head tips back in awe, allowing him to kiss further over your skin and leave another couple marks in his wake. He won't do anything if you react negatively to it; After all, he's here to please you as much as he can within this short time period you have together.
Your breath catches when his fingertips gently push at your panties, finding your clit with practiced ease and flicking at it with his index from over the fabric. He grins when your body flinches under his weight, leaning further into you and humming against your skin which in turn gently coaxes a moan out of you. "Keep talking," He teases, pausing his movements just for a moment until you open your mouth.
"I like.. this," You whisper out in need, your hand finding his shoulder to grip at the tank top he wears. "I like this a lot. All of this, Jisung. It's perfect. You're perfect, so perfect," You whimper into the space between your bodies, peeking down to watch Jisung suck another mark darker than the rest against the top of your breast. "I'm definitely coming back for you."
"It's a shame you booked such a short session. You're already so wet for me," His voice comes out lower than before; A purr against his tongue that licks at your skin and promises nothing but pleasure. His fingertips slide through your folds, pushing the lace of your panties tight to your slit as the slick leaks further and soaks through.
Jisung sighs out at the feeling of your warmth against his fingers, giving one more slow circle over your clit before he pulls his hand back and up towards his mouth. His tongue lathes over his fingertips, your eyes drawn and glued to the way he licks your essence clean from them before he all but moans out about how good you taste.
At this point, he may be more excited for the next time you pop in than you are.
"You have to book another meeting, sweetheart. I need more of you." It's not a demand but rather a soft plea for you to return - For you to give him a chance to actually get a taste of you. He's not sure he could get the words out without fumbling and stuttering over himself but he wants nothing more than to tell you just how badly he wants to bury his face between your thighs for an entire hour.
This time, though - your time runs short. The thirty minutes is up all too quickly and leaves the both of you wanting more; But Jisung is sure to secure your goodbyes with a soft kiss to your lips. You briefly taste yourself on his tongue just as he pulls away, standing from the couch and peeling himself off the leather with a small smile.
His hand cups your cheek so his fingertips can run along your jawline, keeping you on your toes and making you chase his soft touches. "You'll come back for me; Won't you, sweets?"
Your eyes glisten with want, sparkling with need and pooling with desire. You nod, breathless at the way his tongue had entered your mouth as if he wanted to devour you whole only moments ago. And now he was leaving to get back to his station, his eyes wandering for just a moment over you as he slips away through the curtain; A glance to keep himself remembering you for a few days at least - Something to envision later. Something that even with a quick up-and-down, makes his cock twitch in his pants.
As Jisung disappears behind the curtain, he sighs out heavy and heads back to the stage to resume taking over the mixing table. He's a little disappointed he didn't get to do more with such a gorgeous woman but after your promise to come back for him, he can't help the bubble of excitement running through his veins like a drug buzzing though his entire system.
You'd better come back for him like you promised; You wouldn't break his heart and leave him high and dry, would you?
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Taglist:
@an0ther-us3r @linofthelace @breakmeoff @seungpuppymongmong
@d4ily-s-nsh1ne @slut4junho @charredchae
@wickedbutlovely
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pinkiemachine ¡ 3 months ago
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ALSO, for my Legend of Korra Rewrite, there’s an opera house in Republic City, and they do their own production of “The Boy in the Iceberg.”
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It’s heavily inspired by Beijing/Peking Opera, native to China, and I’ve been having way too much fun writing this truly ridiculous, over romanticised version of the original AtLA story 😂 First off, the costumes and props—Now, Peking Opera has a set of rules/guidelines for what colours mean what, which costumes go to what kind of character, and which face paint is appropriate for this and that person, but hardly any of it aligns with the world of AtLA, so it will have its own rules. Naturally, the people are colour coded. Blue = Water Tribe, Red = Fire Nation, Green = Earth kingdom, Yellow = Air Bender. How can you tell if a character is royalty or super important? If they’re wearing any kind of elaborate headpiece. How can you tell who the Avatar is? The Avatar alone has special face paint that covers his entire face. Also, how light or dark their clothing is can inform you of their badness level, and also also, if a character’s hands are covered, it usually means they are hiding something or are very sly and cunning.
Then there’s the bending. Airbending is represented by the staff illustrated above, with two tufts of blue fluffy stuff on either end, similar to what the Ember Island Players did. This prop is very similar to a real one used in Peking Opera. Waterbending is achieved in two forms, either with long sleeves or ribbons, both used for dancing. Also straight from Peking Opera. Fire Bending is achieved through flags/staffs very similar to Peking Opera and the Ember Island Players alike. Finally, Earthbending comes across more like hand-to-hand combat in the choreography, because they use large fans to represent their element, inspired by Kiyoshi, and real life Peking Opera.
Now, the story is hilariously fun—it’s been eighty years since the events of the war, and the story has been dramatised to the Poles and back—so strap in and just imagine what the Gaang would be saying in reaction to all of this 😂
Once, there was a prince and a princess of the Southern Water Tribe. Prince Sokka was a brave and mighty warrior, and Princess Katara was the most beautiful and intelligent woman in all the South Pole. One day, they happened across a glowing iceberg, and from within emerged the Avatar! Avatar Aang was a very playful and mischievous boy (think “The Monkey King”), and upon seeing the beautiful Princess Katara, he immediately fell in love and proposed to her. But the mighty Prince Sokka took offence at such cheekiness, and challenged Avatar Aang to a duel to defend his sister’s honour. Here we have the first of many action scenes. Ultimately, Avatar Aang defeats the prince, proving his worth and proving that he is in fact the real Avatar, but when he asks the princess again if she’ll marry him, she replies that she might, if he can teach her to waterbend.
It’s about this time that Zuko, the Banished Prince of the Fire Nation, and his uncle, General Iroh, the Dragon of the West, arrive to capture the Avatar!
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They are unsuccessful of course, and Team Avatar escapes. They go to the Southern Air Temple where Avatar Aang grieves the loss of his people, and then he suddenly gets a vision from his past life, Avatar Roku. Here, it is explained that Sozin’s comet is fast approaching, and Avatar Aang must learn all four elements before it comes, or else the whole world will burn. Having received his instructions, the team sets a course for the North Pole. (Oh, and Momo is represented by an actor who’s a type of “clown” as Peking Opera puts it. There to be the comic relief. Not sure if I want the same for Appa…)
At the North Pole, Aang and Katara learn waterbending, and the Chief throws a massive party to celebrate the return of the Avatar. This is where Prince Sokka meets Princess Yue of the Northern Tribe, and they fall madly in love. But it is not to last. Zuko and Iroh have arrived with a Fire Nation fleet and lay siege to the city of the North. In their darkest hour, just before the city falls, Princess Yue sacrifices herself to the Moon Spirit, saving everyone, but losing her mortality in the process. It is said that she now lives on the moon, weeping to this very day for the loss of her one true love. (Keeping in mind, Tui and La are now a state secret, as no one wants a repeat of “Admiral Zhao,” who coincidentally, is nothing but a footnote in the history books due the secrecy of the moon and ocean spirit’s physical home.)
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Then, of course, the second act begins with Avatar Aang asking if Katara will marry him now that she’s learned Waterbending. But the princess is far too crafty for him, and becomes sly yet again. This time she says, she might marry him if he can find for her the impossibly rare Panda Lily. Aang is determined, though it may take him a while.
Team Avatar journeys to the Earth Kingdoms in search of an Earthbending master. Now, although the rumours of Toph being a man did stick around for quite a while (helped in no small part by Toph herself) eventually the truth comes out, and the play is amended accordingly. HOWEVER… no one is convinced that Toph is an ordinary human, oh no no no. They believe, whole heartedly, that she is a direct descendant of the badgermoles themselves, and is therefore some kind of half-human-half-spirit type being who sprouted up out of the ground one day. They fear her. As they should.
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So Azula and her girlies make their appearance and they and Team Avatar make their way to Ba Sing Se, where they run into Zuko and Iroh, officially outcast from the royal Fire Nation family for failing to capture the Avatar at the Siege of the North. Azula infiltrates the city by impersonating the Kiyoshi warriors (who mysteriously replace the Dai Li in this story, and all mention of the city being controlled by a puppet master and brainwashing people is also mysteriously absent) and we meet Suki, leader of the Kiyoshi warriors, and she and Sokka begin to fall in love. Then, Aang manages to find the rare Panda Lily, but he’s not able to give it to Katara because the Last Stand of Ba Sing Se begins. There’s a massive fight at the palace, and Aang gets struck by lightning and falls into Princess Katara’s arms, trying to give her that Panda Lily she asked for. Then he falls into slumber as Princess Katara weeps. Zuko joins his sister Azula, Iroh is captured, and team Avatar flees.
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That night, Katara begs the spirits to spare Avatar Aang, and Yue appears, bringing Aang back to life. It’s at this time that she gives the team a grave warning about the journey ahead of them. She reveals to them that the Day of Black Sun may aid them in their fight against the Fire Nation, and she also gives Sokka a special gift: a sword carved from moon rock. May it serve him well.
End of act two.
Act three begins with the mighty Sokka rallying all their allies together to launch an assault on the Fire Nation on the Day of Black Sun. Meanwhile, the Fire Prince Zuko battles with himself over his decision to betray his uncle and join his sister. He thinks of his mother, and how she would not have wanted him to follow the path of his father, Firelord Ozai. On the Day of Black Sun, he chooses to redeem himself by helping Avatar Aang defeat the Firelord once and for all. The battle was fierce—Princess Katara feared that she might lose Avatar Aang yet again—but when they arrived at his palace, no one was home. The Firelord was very crafty. He devised a labyrinth beneath his palace in which to hide, and he evaded the Avatar until the eclipse was over. The day was lost. Team Avatar was forced to retreat. However, now Aang had a Firebending Master to teach him the final element.
After much training, and much preparation, Aang was ready to face Firelord Ozai on the day that Sozin’s Comet came ripping across the sky. He tried to ask Princess Katara one last time if she would marry him, and this time she replied that if he survived his fight with the Firelord… she would marry him.
It began. Prince Sokka, Warrior Suki, and Master Toph led the charge against the Firelord’s army. Prince Zuko and Princess Katara held off Princess Azula, and Avatar Aang took on Firelord Ozai alone. Using all that they had learned across their journey, fuelled by the power of friendship and love, Team Avatar prevailed. The Firelord’s army fell, Princess Azula fell, and finally, Firelord Ozai himself fell before the mighty Avatar Aang. (Aang’s ability to energybend remains a secret.) And in the end, Prince Zuko took the throne of the Fire Nation, Prince Sokka took the throne of the South Pole with Suki as his queen, Toph became known as the greatest Earthebnder in the world, uncle Iroh opened the best tea shop in the world, and Princess Katara agreed to marry Avatar Aang. It was a happy ending indeed.
Can’t wait to finish the costume designs! Let me know what you think!
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whirlwindstars ¡ 8 days ago
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CLERICAL CLOTHES - A GUIDE
(I took one for the team)
This is a visual guide to clerical clothes, which has been created for 'Conclave' fanfic readers and writers (but it can be used for any work involving Catholic clergymen).
I'm going to use images from the movie (+ some images from visual novel 'Delectatio Morosa') and real life examples.
Spoilers, of course.
The Cassock
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The cassock is a tunic, identical for everyone, except for the colour. Choir cassock is red for Cardinals and amaranth red for bishops.
The plain cassock is black, with hems and buttons of different colour for each hierarchical position. In warmer regions of the world, one can wear a white cassock, with a fascia of the colour of the position.
Members of an order may wear a religious habit instead of a cassock. And a cincture (a rope-like belt) instead of a fascia (large fringed sash worn with the cassock).
The Choir Dress
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The choir dress is used for public prayer (like attending Mass), but not for the celebration of the Eucharist.
Rochet (/ˈrɒtʃət/): white laced vestment worn over the cassock. It arrives below the knee (Benítez's is longer than the cassock, covering it, because he wears borrowed clothes).
Mozzetta [motˈtsetta]: elbow-lenght cape closed with buttons, worn over the rochet. Its colour is the same as the choir cassock.
Biretta: a square cap with three/four peaks. Same colour as the mozzetta.
Zucchetto [dzukˈketto]: It's a hemisphere that sits on the head, usually made of silk. The central tip is called the stirpis.
Liturgical Vestment
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Chasuble (/ˈtʃæzjʊbəl/): outer liturgical vestment, which goes over the knees and the wrists. It's more used now than the planet (the rigid one without sleeves). It is worn over the alb and stole. The colour depends on the Mass celebrated.
Alb (from Latin albus, ‘white’): it is an ankle-long white garment usually worn with a cincture.
Stole: long narrow strip of cloth worn over the alb, around the neck and over the shoulders. The colour varies depending on the celebration.
Mitre: headpiece that is tall and pointed at the tip. Used by bishops, archbishops and now the Pope as well (instead of the tiara).
Pastoral: staff used by bishops and archbishops, which has a curled tip. The Pope uses a type of staff with a cross known as ferula, although rarely.
Casual Attire
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The clergyman is the modern priest attire. It consists of trousers, jacket and shirt with the clerical collar (a rigid white collar, the symbol of a priest).
Some priests completely discard the collar in favour of just wearing a cross or dressing no different than a "secular".
In particular cases, wearing a casual attire is more of a need than a choice: this is the case of BenĂ­tez, cardinal 'in pectore', who in the movie arrives in Rome with no clerical vestments.
Papal Attire
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The white papal cassock look consists of:
Fascia: sometimes with his coat of arms on it.
Pellegrina: elbow-lenght open mantle, similar to a mozzetta.
Pectoral cross: silver or golden, given to the Pope or already in his possession.
Zucchetto
Fisherman's ring: on his right ring finger, the seal on the ring is broken when the Pope dies.
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During official events, such as receiving guests:
Mozzetta: the Pope's is red and made of satin or velvet.
Pontifical stole: The Pope's stole is bigger, knee-lenght and usually red and gold.
Rochet: under the mozzetta and over the cassock.
Elements of his liturgical attire:
Ferula: instead of the bishop's pastoral, the Pope uses a long, silver or golden staff with Jesus on the cross.
Mitre: now used by the Pope as well, instead of the Papal tiara, after Paul VI deemed it as too luxurious and grand.
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Throughout the centuries, the Pope's wardrobe has evolved, with the inclusion of new pieces and the removal of others. Changes are still made in the XXI Century, with each Pope having different opinions on what to wear: just look at the big contrast between Benedict's conservative style and Francis' refusal to wear unnecessary ornaments, a couple of which have already been reinstated by Leo.
Saturno: a wide red hat made of felt or straw, which hasn't been used in over a decade. Its sides can be lifted up by strings.
Camauro: red winter bonnet made with velvet and ermine. Not used today, probably for ethical reasons.
Pallium: made with the wool of blessed lambs, it has existed since the first centuries of Christian rule, now only used by the Pope and metropolitan archbishops.
Fanone: a silk white mozzetta-like piece, with red and gold stripes and a big cross on the front. After the Second Vatican Council, its use has been reduced.
Tabarro: red long cloak the Pope wears during cold weather, again never used in the last 10+ years.
Piviale: white and gold mantle used in some occasions, like when participating at a Mass but not as the one celebrating it.
Red shoes: probably the symbol of Francis' revolutionary take on papal clothes, since in the Room of Tears he decided to ditch the loafers for his own personal shoes, the same ones he was later buried with. Leo also wears his own pair of black shoes.
Thank you for reading until the end!
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peachpopfizz ¡ 20 hours ago
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Idol!Solo-Demon-Hunter!Reader × The Saja Boys
Part 1, What It Means To Meet Your Idols
(Part 0)
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blinks like a frog. so uh. WOW, my ass was not expecting so much positivity and, like, actual reads for last chapter. it was literally just 1k of set up oh mein got!!
BUT. I thrive n' survive off of attention and compliments, so despite it being 1 am on a workday here, I hand the next part of this fic to you gently like hamburger. and hey guess what, it ACTUALLY has the saja boys in it this time!!! or. mostly. one of them. lmao
oh, btw, you'll figure out pretty quickly that this fics timeline is very canon divergent. to make a long ass plot point that I'll figure out later short, the saja boys are all alive after the 2025 idol awards and them and huntrix are chill. why? wait and see <3
okay enough yapping go kiss them hot demon guys
WC: ~3.2K
As you and the other members of Grxm Rexper practiced until your arms and legs felt numb, the day of the Solstice Festival slowly turned into dusk, which meant that people slowly started crowding around the large stage at the center of the event. Excited murmurs and the constant shutter of a phone camera filled the air, fans eager to see Grxm Rexper and whatever mystery groups were coming to perform.
The second the clock struck 7:30, the stage lights flickered dramatically, turning into a swathe of moving colors and dramatic spotlights. Cheers, screams, and yelling from the crowd nearly deafened the emcee's voice despite it echoing through massive speakers.
"Ladies and gentlemen, us staff of the Solstice Festival could not be more grateful for you having shown up tonight! We have not one, not two, but THREE incredible performances set up for you! And… they're starting right now!"
The crowd erupted into another wave of screams and cheers, light-sticks waving around with every second being filmed.
"First up, it is with much excitement that I announce our opening act is being delivered by the nation's beloved new upstarts, the ones who so many of you came here just to see..." Pause, for dramatic effect... "...GRXM REXPER!”
All the lights except five spotlights suddenly cut out, deafening screams from fans flooding the air as the track to one of Grxm Rexper's songs began blasting through the speakers. You and the other four members immediately fell into routine with practiced ease, any mistakes rendered invisible to anyone but a knowing eye.
You… didn't have much confidence in your dancing abilities, no matter how many times people tried to compliment you on them. However…
Every time you get to sing, it's as if any fear disappears. Lyrics flow out of your throat like honey, the stress of life seemingly disappearing for every moment you have the audience captivated with your tone. There are many stans who question why you aren't the lead singer instead of just the backup vocalist, but to be honest, the veeery slightly lessened amount of fame you get via being a ‘background character’ really helps with your… other, line of work, y'know?’
As the song carried on, you did get a small solo section. Feeling power, joy, and… something else thrum through your veins, you sang with all your heart, fueling the power and emotion behind every word. Your voice soared through the night sky, reaching every corner of the massive festival grounds, distant speakers barely able to keep up with what you were delivering. The crowd was entranced, phones, lightsticks, and even a lighter held high to capture everything while the other members of Grxm Rexper danced around you, their moves perfectly synchronized.
When you were reaching the end of your solo, something strange happened. You hit a high note, and the stage seemed to vibrate beneath your feet. You felt an unusual energy coursing through your veins, voice reaching new heights.
The strange feeling made your eyes pop open just a bit, tone refusing to falter as you just barely caught a flash of... something. It was bright gold- far away, coating the earth and attraction-walls below the stage in a latticework of light before fading away like ripples in the water. What in the hell was that?!
Despite your confusion, you didn't let the vision get in the way of my performance. A few more dance moves, two more verses, a final chorus, and then suddenly it was over. Every member of Grxm Rexper bowed, mutely panting with sweat dripping down their necks as you all beamed, waving and loving-on the audience.
Even with your head down in your bow, you could clearly envision the crowd's smiling faces. Your performance was amazing- arguably the best Grxm Rexper has had yet, and the audience clearly agreed. You felt a sense of pride and accomplishment wash over you; even as the adrenaline of performing began wearing off, leaving behind exhaustion and dizziness, that warm feeling lodged itself in your heart. Man… being an idol was hell 80% of the time, but… it was those moments that made it all worth it.
Suddenly, you heard a familiar voice booming out from the speakers, cutting the celebration short. It was the festival's emcee, his voice booming over the microphone.
"And that was Grxm Rexper, everyone! What an incredible performance, please, once more, give them some love!" After another minute or so of raucous applause, he spoke again. "Grxm Rexper, you were all amazing! Thank you, thank you so much! But now… are you ready for the real surprises?!”
While the lights dimmed, all of Grxm Rexper quietly exited off stage as the emcee stole the majority of the audience's attention. Immediately, the other members split off into duos, each with two of the five members, which... left you completely and totally alone. You sighed, exhausted, alone, and now sporting headache which was beginning to hit you full force. The energy got sucked out of you like a god damn tube jelly.
You weren't even disappointed anymore, not really. You just…
…Despite being coworkers, you weren't close to the other members of Grxm Rexper. You never hung out, never gossiped... You all came together to rehearse, perform, do publicity stunts, and that's it. It wasn't hard to figure out why- you had a potentially world ending side-job that kinda kept you too busy to maintain any meaningful interpersonal relationships, but still…
Too lost in thought, you let out a soft "oof" as you accidentally rammed into someone's chest, immediately apologizing and stepping back afterwards.
"Oh crap, sorry, you oka-"
The words died in your throat when you looked up. Your jaw dropped, a finger pointing up to point right at the man's chest. Holy shit. What the fuck. Is that-?
“-JINU SAJA?!”
Yes indeedy. You found yourself face-to-face with none other than Jinu, the charismatic leader of Saja Boys. He looked just as surprised to see you, his dark, dark brown eyes widening slightly as your shout caught him off guard. Despite you crumpling his shirt a bit, somehow, it only added to his appearance.
Looking back on it, that was a horrible first impression. One that sometimes had you screaming into your pillows at 3 A.M out of embarrassment. But in the moment, you were just ecstatic to see the guy. He, along with the rest of Saja, were basically the whole country's little poster child of a Boy Group.
Finally recovering, Jinu's face broke out into a charming smile at your enthusiastic reaction, clearly amused by your sudden outburst. He chuckled softly, reaching out to gently grab your pointing finger and lower it back to your side.
"That's me! In the flesh." His thumb brushed against your wrist accidentally, sending a small spark through your body that made you feel like a fangirling teenager. Jinu released your finger slowly, his eyes never leaving yours. His mouth opened, but before he could say anything else, the emcee's voice boomed out again from the stage.
"And now, it is with much excitement that I get to announce the performance from a group we've all been waiting for a comeback from for a long while…”
You blinked rapidly, shaking your head and stepping to the side as it clicked that, oh, he was on his way to the stage. Duh.
"I- wow, okay, damn, actually happy we went first now. If Grxm Rexper had to perform after THE Saja Boys, I might as well have just jumped off the stage.”
Jinu let out a dorky little laugh at your comment, finding your authenticity refreshing. Most idols (and people in general, really) that he meets are either starstruck by him, or so overly professional it's suffocating. But… you seemed comfortably yourself. It was... nice …And, you still gave him a cute reaction, too. Hell yeah, he's still got it!
Jinu slightly leaned into your space, voice softer, a playful grin still on his lips.
"Hey, you shouldn't sell yourself short. Your performance was amazing." His gaze seemed to linger a moment too long on your face. "In fact..."
The emcee's voice interrupted him yet again. You didn't know the guy- he was probably great, really sweet, but damn did, you want to kick him in the balls at that moment.
"...You won't believe what's coming next! Are you ready, Seoul?!”
Despite all the fibers in your being desperately wanting to just talk to the guy, you hurriedly steeled your resolve and waved Jinu off, half-heartedly attempting to fix the rumples you added to his shirt before gesturing for him to get on stage.
"That... Actually, wow, that genuinely means a lot to me coming from someone like you, thank you so much. Now, go have fun, okay? I hope your ears don't die from how loud everyone's gonna scream when they see you all.”
Jinu's reply came in the form of a smile that would bring any girl to her knees, his shoulders shaking in amusement.
"Thanks for the vote of confidence."
He gave you a small nod and a wink before turning to jog onto the stage. As he did, the crowd's screams reached a deafening pitch, confirming your prediction.
"The moment you've all been waiting for! Making their grand comeback after what feels like an eternity... the SAJA BOYS!”
You happily stood in the wings of the stage. Your legs ached, you were exhausted, had a worsening headache, and sweat clung to every inch of you, but… you hadn't felt so happy and entranced than in that moment for a long, long while.
The first song the Saja Boys ever released, 'Soda Pop' began blasting through the festival grounds, and to say people went nuts as all five members of the group suddenly appeared from a cloud of pink smoke was kinda underselling it. The Saja Boys hit the stage with an explosive energy, their perfectly synchronized dance moves and powerful vocals immediately capturing the audience's attention, sending them into a near frenzy.
As expected, Jinu was front and center, his smooth voice effortlessly blending with the others as they sang their sticky, sweet words. The crowd sang- err.. more like screamed along to every word. As they reached the first chorus, Jinu's gaze briefly flickered offstage, catching sight of you standing in the wings.
And as much as you would have loved to have noticed THE Jinu Saja singling you out as he performed, you were a bit too lost in your own world, performing for no one but yourself as you danced along with the boys backstage. Movements unpolished, but every beat hit. You knew the dance by heart- having watched their music video for Soda Pop a couple... hundred... maybe nearing into the thousand... of times.
Okay, yeah, you were a Saja stan and this surprise maybe perhaps just slightly made your entire last week worth it. So what? Sue you for having eyes and ears with TASTE.
As Soda Pop reached its final chorus, all of the Saja Boys poured every ounce of energy into their performance, all of them smiling like a weight had been lifted off their shoulders. Like they were free from... something. Drinking up the movements of each member, you wondered if anyone else saw it, too.
Jinu was perfectly controlled and flawless, like always. You don't think it's possible for him to look a mess. His face-card is, was, and likely always will be lethal.
Despite your eyes lingering on Jinu for so long- there were, of course, the four other members of the Saja Boys that you also loved dearly. Abby, Romance, Mystery, Baby… Each of them appealed to you in their own unique way- you couldn't really choose a favorite, they were all so damn talented!
Abby was objectively the traditionally-hottest. He gets bonus points for being himbo by nature, too. Come on now- he was ripped with a strong jaw and dangerous smile, all big and beefy… which made him the perfect visual member, for multiple reasons! Abby was talented at both singing and dancing- and, maybe it was just you, but you swear you've seen him act as the de facto second-in-command when Jinu wasn't around.
Sweet, charming Romance had sharp features amplified by his confident charisma. He was tall and slimly-built, a heart tattoo peeking out from the low neckline of his shirt. He excelled at his namesake- always flirting with the audience and enrapturing the hearts of the viewers. There are videos on Twitter of girls literally crying tears of joy because he kissed their knuckles. The fact that he had the voice of a poet blessed by the stars helped out, too.
Mystery was the mood maker, his expression always numb and unreadable, eyes hidden beneath his bangs. He was the tallest of the group, skinny with broad shoulders and a slim waist. His voice was breathy and light, captivating in an almost sinful way, like an old ghost that would lure you into the fog with his dulcet tones… There was also something, like, wrong with him. Like, objectively. You've seen him snarl and bark at people in interviews before. God. What a perfect man.
And of course, there was Baby Saja. He was the maknae, the youngest of the group, with a sweet, childlike face and the smallest body that gave you a form of cuteness aggression you once thought could only be brought out of you via puppies and kittens. Baby's personality matched his looks, but his voice was where people were caught off guard. His voice was deep and masculine- a powerhouse that could control and manipulate a beat with ease. Baby was the main rapper of the Saja Boys, and for damn good reason.
Before you could accidentally get in the way, you gazed longingly at the Saja Boys one last time, then slunk into the shadows backstage, disappearing further and further until the bright, cutesy music of Soda Pop had gone. Alone in your greenroom with nothing but the silence to accompany you, you turn on the in-room T.V just in time to watch as the Saja Boys finished their song.
Jinu walked towards the forefront of the stage, the other members close behind their leader who confidently held a microphone in his hand, the crowd's cheers beginning to slowly pitter out. He flashed that signature charming smile, eyes scanning the sea of faces before him.
"First up, everyone, thank you so much for the incredible welcome back!"
Just like that, the audience erupted into screams and applause again, all five boys taking a deep bow before standing back up. Abby leaned on Jinu's shoulder to speak into the mic, a smirk on his face.
"We missed you all so much, we promise, we have much more in store this time."
The rest of the Saja Boys took their turns thanking the audience, voices genuine. Meanwhile, Jinu paused, his gaze drifting momentarily offstage towards where you had disappeared, but darted back to the crowd not a moment later. The action of Jinu's eyes migrating to where you last stood didn't go unnoticed. In your green-room, you clutched your hands to my chest, cheeks pink and smile soft. He was so… polite. You'd have to find him again later and tell him you loved the performance.
Next thing you knew, Jinu was speaking again, the others clinging to some part of him as he got ready to announce the 3rd and final surprise performance of the night. Jinu wrapped an arm around Baby's neck playfully, making the younger boy laugh. He pulled the mic back to his mouth, voice echoing. He sounded excited.
"Hey... You guys ready for the biggest surprise?"
The crowd went wild again, screams deafening, a girl squealing and fainting when Romance blew her a kiss after she screamed, “WHOEVER THEY ARE, THEY WON'T OUTSHINE YOU!” …Seriously, how do these people not end up in the hospital? Or at least lose their voice…
"After their own long few months of a break, we have a VERY special group making their comeback tonight, too..." He dragged the suspense out, winking. "C'mon, you guys already know who it is, right..?"
Somehow, the crowd screamed louder, trying to guess, buzzing with excitement and shouts of various Idol-groups' names. After a few seconds, Jinu's voice rang out loud and clear over the speakers. He seemed… happy.
"It is my honor to announce the return of someone you've all been waiting for... The world's greatest K-pop trio... HUNTRIX!"
The audience went absolutely insane just as the stage lights dimmed completely. The Saja Boys swiftly ran off stage, patting each other on the back as a bright spotlight hit center stage, where three figures appeared in coordinated green, yellow, and white outfits.
The trio slowly turned around to face the audience, the ladies needing no introduction. No one was there who DIDN'T know who they were. You yourself couldn't stop the excited yell that slipped from your throat as THE Huntrix trio appeared on the same stage that you were on not even ten minutes ago.
Rumi, Mira, and Zoey all soaked up the fans' excitement with joy and ease, their voices and movements masterclass as they began performing one of their highest rated songs- Golden.
You were completely captivated, singing along to every word in your greenroom, dancing and jumping around like you weren't a fellow idol, but another fan in the crowd crying while the three stars absolutely ate up the stage. Huntrix's performance was nothing short of electrifying.
Vocals? Flawless. Dance moves? Perfectly executed and synchronized. Stage presence? Unmatched.
Golden was arguably Huntrix's best song. Rumi belted out her notes flawlessly, her voice powerful and enchanting. Mira both danced and sung smoothly like water, her body and tone fluid and graceful. And Zoey supported her girls effortlessly, her sweet voice dropping into a catchy tamber as she hit every note perfectly.
They were truly the Queens of K-pop, every move they made captivating, every breath and blink planned. They were untouchable.
As the song reached its chorus, the girls changed it up a bit and instead of having Rumi take the lead solo, they all sang in perfect harmony, their voices blending like angels. A quick-change happened, leaving them in outfits similar to the white and gold ones they wore in the aftershow of the Idol Awards, just spruced up for the times.
You felt so happy dancing in your greenroom like this, moments unchoreographed and just... free. Completely and totally free. You braced yourself just before the chorus hit, literally jumping up and down in excitement at the girls' quick-change. For a few seconds, it felt like you were floating, chest lighter than air and voice free from its normal restrictions as you admired the angels before you.
And then, the whole weight of the world suddenly slammed into your chest, the sight of what was on stage hitting you so hard that you choked on your own spit, falling to your knees and staring up at the screen before you in abject horror. No. No. You'd seem them before, in a video, but, back then you didn't know. You couldn't have known- no one could have known!
But now you did.
To the rest of the world, they would have just been seen as strange tattoos. Something that some- especially the older generation- would still frown upon, but you know, nothing to get too worked up about, not when THE lead singer of Huntrix was the one rocking them.
But you knew. You knew what they were.
Rumi had demon markings.
~~~
HAHA get cliff hangered bozos. part 2 coming.. when i finish it!! but hopefully soon. no promises tho lmao, my motivation comes once in a blue moon and i work at my own pace <3
tag list! (woaw tyasm!!1!!):
@moonjellyfishie, @satansdaughter123, @d3sperate-enuf, @empressgetou, @littlemissfix-itfic
181 notes ¡ View notes
hauntsoul ¡ 7 months ago
Text
— Beneath the Spotlight.
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SYNOPSIS: You, a devoted fan, are thrilled when Park Sunghoon, a famous idol, slips a secret note into your pocket at his fan meeting. But as the days pass, you start to wonder if his fleeting attention was ever meant to last.
GENRE: 18+ (minors dni), toxic, angst, little fluff.
WORD COUNT: 7.1k
PAIRING: idol!sunghoon x obsessedfan!reader (sunghoon is pretty toxic)
WARNING: toxic dynamic, oral (f. receiving), fingering, overstimulation, no protection, bathing together, phone sex?, masturbation (f), choking, creampie, reader has no self respect. halfway through is not proofread.
AUTHORS NOTE: hello! this is my first ever post so i hope you all will enjoy it. this is actually based off a manga i read a while ago, so full inspiration from there. i hope you all love the story. <3
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
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Park Sunghoon.
A name that tastes like honey on your tongue.
A name that echoes in your mind, sending you through spirals.
A name you’ve engraved into your heart.
His face dominates your world. His posters cover every inch of your walls, his piercing gaze watching you wherever you go. Your lockscreen? A candid shot from his last concert, sweat dripping down his jawline, his expression so intimidating it feels intimate. His voice? It fills every moment of silence, every song on your playlist filled with his songs, his melodic tone.
You’re obsessed. Not the dangerous kind, not yet, but close enough to feel the lines blur. You know him better than you know yourself, or so you tell yourself. For three years, you’ve followed his journey. From him starting his path on the ice rink, his movements elegant, to the idol on many global stages, with millions of fans following him. Including you of course.
Currently, he stands in front of you. Well, in front of thousands. The stage lights catch every angle of his sharp features, making him appear almost otherworldly. The microphone amplifies his voice: smooth, melodic, and commanding, as he speaks to the audience.
You’ve been to countless fan meetings before, how could you ever miss one? But no matter how many times you see him, the sight of Park Sunghoon always leaves you fascinated.
He smiles as he talks about the little things, the cheery moments he shared with his family during his break. The crowd laughs, cheers, and some even shout desperate attempts to catch his attention. And he rewards them with a polite smile, a small nod, or a fleeting glance.
But to you, every gesture from him gives you butterflies. His black hair falls effortlessly into place, framing his flawless face. His piercing eyes scan the crowd, and even though they never land on you, it feels like they do. The tiny mole near his eye, the way he smiles, it’s all too perfect, too intoxicating.
You can’t stop staring. You can’t look away.
"Now, it’s the fun part!” Sunghoon exclaims, his voice sparking excitement through the crowd.
The audience buzzes with anticipation, murmurs spreading around rapidly. Fun part? Your stomach tightens, a mix of curiosity and hope swirling inside you.
The stage lights brighten as staff members hurry onto the platform, carrying a small table with a large glass bowl resting on top. Sunghoon steps forward, his presence catching everyone’s attention.
“In this bowl,” he announces, his voice smooth and teasing, “are slips with seat numbers. If I pick your number, you’ll get the lucky chance to come on stage and take a photo with me.”
The crowd explodes into cheers and screams, the energy palpable. Your heart hammers against your ribs. Could it be you? Out of thousands of people, could you really be the one?
Sunghoon dips his hand into the bowl, the motion slow and deliberate. Your breath catches as you watch his fingers swirl through the slips of paper, your body tense. The air feels heavy, and every second stretches longer than it should.
Finally, he pulls out a slip, holding it between his fingers like it holds the secrets of the universe. The audience hushes, a sharp silence falling over the room. Your palms are clammy, and you press them against your thighs.
“B14!”
Gasps ripple through the crowd as heads twist, scanning for the lucky winner. You glance down at the back of your seat, where “G25” is engraved, and disappointment sinks in. Not you.
“It seems like B14 isn’t here,” Sunghoon remarks, his tone light. He reaches back into the bowl, his hand swirling through the papers again.
Your heart races faster, the hope creeping back in. Your fingers clutch the armrests, nails digging into the fabric. Time slows as he pulls out another slip, unfolding it with a teasing smile.
“G25.”
Your heart stops. For a moment, the world seems to blur, the only thing you hear is the pounding of your pulse.
Your seat number.
Your heart thunders wildly in your chest. You’re going to be up close with Park Sunghoon.
Slowly, you rise from your seat, your knees shaky, the weight of thousands of eyes falling on you. But it doesn’t matter, not when his eyes find yours. For a brief moment, Sunghoon stares, his gaze sweeping over you in a way that makes your breath hitch. The corner of his lips curls into a slow, deliberate smirk. He lifts a finger, motioning for you to come on stage.
And you do.
Each step toward him feels surreal, like you’re walking through a dream. The bright stage lights blind you for a second, but then you see him. Right in front of you. Closer than you’ve ever imagined.
He’s perfect… no, more than perfect. Up close, he seems almost unreal, his features sharper. The crowd murmurs, some fans letting out squeals of excitement, but all you can focus on is him.
Sunghoon extends a hand, his fingers long and steady. Tentatively, you place yours in his. His palm is warm, his grip firm, and it swallows yours completely. With a gentle tug, he pulls you closer, so close you can feel his breath ghost against your skin.
Then, he wraps his arms around you.
Your heart threatens to burst as he holds you, his embrace firm yet careful, like he knows exactly what this moment means to you. His scent: fresh and intoxicating, fills your senses, and for a second, the world disappears. You don’t want to move. You don’t want this to end.
A camera flashes, and Sunghoon tilts his head toward you, his lips brushing close to your ear.
“Look at the camera, princess.” he whispers, his voice low, sending shivers down your spine.
You glance up, dazed, and meet his smirking gaze as the camera captures the moment.
You plaster a smile on your face as the cameras flash, capturing the moment that feels too perfect to be real. But then, you feel it; a subtle movement, his hand slipping into your pocket. Your heart skips a beat. Did he just…?
You turn your head slightly to look at him, confusion flickering in your eyes. Sunghoon doesn’t say a word, only meeting your gaze with a soft, knowing smile. It’s the kind of smile that makes your knees weak.
Your heart flutters, the moment feeling surreal, almost too good to be true. His closeness, the way his presence dominates everything else, leaves you breathless. But as quickly as it began, it’s over.
The staff gestures for you to step down, and disappointment washes over you like a cold wave. You force yourself to walk off the stage, each step feeling heavier as the distance between you and Sunghoon grows. Your chest tightens as you return to your seat, the memory of his warmth already fading.
But still, you smile faintly to yourself. You got a picture with Park Sunghoon, not just a picture, the picture. His arms were around you, holding you like you mattered, even for a fleeting moment.
As you settle back into your seat, a strange sensation tugs at your memory. The pocket.
Your hand shoots down to check, your fingers brushing against a small slip of paper. Pulling it out, your breath catches. Written in messy handwriting are the words:
“Call me. +0 xxxx xxxxx xxx”
Your heart stops, the paper trembling in your hands. You glance up at the stage, where Sunghoon continues to smile and interact with the crowd, as if nothing had happened.
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When you finally get home, you collapse onto your bed, clutching the small slip of paper in your trembling hand. Your eyes scan the number over and over, your thoughts racing uncontrollably. Is this a joke? Why would he do this?
Your heart pounds in your chest as doubt creeps in. Was he just playing with you? Or could this really be real?
Your other hand hesitates as it slips into your pocket and pulls out your phone. The paper crinkles softly in your grasp as you stare at the digits, debating with yourself. But before you can talk yourself out of it, your fingers move almost instinctively, typing the number into your contacts.
You pause. Your thumb hovers over the screen for a long moment before you finally gather the courage to send a single message:
“hello?”
The moment the message delivers, you throw your phone onto the bed, your heart threatening to burst out of your chest. You bury your face in your hands, convinced this is all some elaborate prank. Maybe he does this at every fan meeting. Maybe—
Your phone buzzes.
The sound jolts you, and your head snaps up. Your breathing falters as you reach for the screen, hands shaking slightly. With a swipe, the notification pops up:
“hello princess.”
Your heart freezes. The room feels smaller, like the air’s been sucked out of it. Staring at the message, you feeling your heart beat rapidly.
It wasn’t a prank. It was real.
And Sunghoon had just texted you.
“R u real..?” you type, your hands trembling as you hit send.
The response comes almost instantly, as if he was waiting for you.
“Why wouldn’t I be? I put my number in your pocket, after all.”
You stare at the screen, biting your lip. The words feel surreal, like something straight out of a dream or maybe a cruel joke. You sigh, still unable to shake the doubt crawling through your mind.
Before you can respond, another message pops up:
“By the way, I told you to call me, not text me.”
“So call me.”
Your heart races, the pounding in your ears almost drowning out everything else. For a moment, you just sit there, staring at the screen.
Could this really be happening?
Your thumb hovers over the call button, hesitation gripping you. But the curiosity, the chance that this might be real, pushes you forward.
With a deep breath, you press it.
The phone rings twice. Just twice.
Then, the other line picks up.
Your heart stops as silence falls between you, your hand gripping the phone so tightly your knuckles turn white. You stay quiet, your mind scrambling for what to say, still half-convinced this is some elaborate prank.
But then you hear it:
“Are you gonna speak to me?” His voice is smooth, teasing yet commanding, the kind that makes your chest tighten.
It’s really him. You’re actually talking to the real Park Sunghoon.
“H-Hello…” you manage to stutter, your voice barely above a whisper.
He chuckles softly on the other end, the sound sending shivers down your spine. “You sound nervous, princess. Didn’t I tell you to call me? And here you are, all shy now.”
“I-I just didn’t know if it was really you…” you admit, your words tumbling out awkwardly.
“You doubted me?” he asks, his tone light but with a faint edge of amusement. “Do you think I go around giving random fans my number?”
“No! I just—” you stammer, but he cuts you off."
"Relax,” he says, his voice dropping slightly, more serious now. “I wouldn’t waste my time playing games like that. If I put my number in your pocket, it’s because I wanted you to use it.”
The way he says it... so certain, makes your heart race even faster.
“O-Okay…” you stutter, unsure of what else to say.
“Good.” He pauses, and you hear the faint sound of him shifting, like he’s getting comfortable.
For a moment, there was an awkward silence, and you couldn’t help but feel a strange mix of confusion and excitement talking to him.
"I’m sorry, but I just want to know… why did you want me to have your number?" You ask, your voice trembling slightly, unsure of how to phrase it. "I mean… isn’t this kind of dangerous for your reputation?"
He laughs, the sound low and rich, like it’s just for you. "Anything’s worth a risk if it’s with a pretty girl like you."
The words hit you like a wave. Pretty. Park Sunghoon just called you pretty. Your heart flutters uncontrollably, a rush of warmth flooding your cheeks. You can almost feel the heat spreading across your face as your mind tries to catch up with his words.
"Y-You think I’m pretty?" You manage to ask, barely able to form a coherent sentence.
"Did you think I was just playing around?" He pauses, a smirk evident in his voice. "I don’t give out my number to just anyone, princess. I gave it to you because I wanted to."
You swallow hard, trying to steady your breath. The idea of him wanting you feels almost impossible, but his confidence, his voice, so sure of itself, makes it feel like nothing could be truer.
"You’re still quiet," he adds, his voice dropping lower. "You’re shy, aren’t you?"
"I’m not shy," you lie, but even you can hear the hesitation in your voice.
"Mm, sure you’re not." He laughs again, but this time, it feels more teasing, like he’s enjoying every bit of your nervousness. "You’re just nervous because you know I’m real. You can hear my voice, feel the heat between us already. Don’t tell me it doesn’t make you want me, too."
Your breath catches. The way he speaks, so sure of himself, like he already knows everything about you, makes your pulse spike. "I… I don’t know what to say."
"You don’t have to say anything," he murmurs, his voice almost a whisper. "Just listen, and let me show you how real this is."
Your heart beats faster, the line between fantasy and reality blurring with every word he speaks.
"Just admit it," he continues, his tone turning more seductive. "You wanted this. You wanted me to notice you. And now I have."
You can barely breathe, his words echoing in your mind. "I… I didn’t think it would be like this."
"Of course, you didn’t," he says, his voice full of confidence. "But now that we’re here, don’t pretend you’re not enjoying it. Don’t pretend you don’t want more."
You bite your lip, your thoughts racing. How could you want anything else? He made it clear that he was interested in you, and the idea of it is too thrilling to ignore.
"Tell me," he presses, his voice low and husky, "do you want more?"
Your heart stops at the question. But the truth is, you don’t even have to think about it. "Yes." The word slips out before you can stop it.
"Yeah, princess?" His voice is a low, teasing drawl, almost like he's savoring every moment.
You can feel your breath hitching, your nerves on edge, unable to believe this is really happening. Just a few hours ago, you were in the crowd, just another face in the sea of fans, and now your here, getting wet while he's on the other line.
You couldn't help it. The way he teased you, the tone of his voice, dominant and authoritative. You could feel your panties grow increasingly wet the more he talked to you.
You needed him, and you wanted him to know that.
"Sunghoon.." you murmur as you slowly slide your hand underneath your underwear, your fingers feeling your aching clit.
"Mm, I'm listening princess. I know what you want." His voice gets raspy, which only led to you to rub your clit in a faster pace. God, it felt so good. This wasn't the first time you've touched yourself to Sunghoon.
But this was different, he could hear you. He could hear your light whimpers as you rubbed your clit to his voice. You imagined his large veiny hands slowly going down on your aching wet cunt and fingering you till you couldn't take it anymore.
Suddenly, he hangs up the phone.
You stare at your phone screen, wide-eyed and in disbelief. The call abruptly ends, leaving you in the sudden silence. Your heart pounds, a mix of confusion and frustration clouding your thoughts. Was that it? Did he just... hang up?
For a moment, you can’t bring yourself to move. You stare at the blank screen, hoping he might call back. Maybe it was an accident, right? Maybe he had to go. But as the seconds tick by, you feel your disappointment kicking in.
You clutch your phone tighter, trying to calm your racing mind. Was he playing with you? Why would he do that? You thought everything was going well. But now... there’s only silence, and it makes your thoughts spiral.
"Did I do something wrong?" you whisper to yourself, unsure if you even want an answer.
Minutes pass. You’re about to convince yourself that it was all a mistake when your phone buzzes suddenly, breaking the silence.
It's a message from Sunghoon.
When you click on the notification, your shocked to see that it wasn't a message he sent, but a location.
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Your pulse quickens as your eyes scan the address. It’s a motel, not too far from where you live. The realization hits you like a cold wave, leaving you both excited and nervous at once. What was he thinking? Why here?
You stare at the screen, your heart racing as your fingers hover over the keys. Is this real? You ask yourself.
But before you can talk yourself out of it, you find yourself typing a response, your mind still whirling.
"I’m on my way."
The ride to the motel feels like it takes forever, your thoughts bouncing between excitement and anxiety. You keep imagining what will happen when you get there, what he’ll say, what you’ll do. Your hands are clammy, your stomach doing flips with each passing minute.
Finally, you arrive, the dim lights of the motel casting long shadows over the parking lot. The nerves in your body are almost overwhelming, and yet, you feel a magnetic pull urging you forward.
You take a deep breath and step out of your car, the cool night air brushing against your skin. Every step feels heavy as you walk toward the entrance. Your heart beats faster with each step closer to the room.
You reach the door, and before you can even knock, it swings open.
There he is. Park Sunghoon. Standing just a few feet away, his expression unreadable. His eyes meet yours, and in that moment, the world around you seems to disappear.
"Come in," he says, his voice calm but holding an intensity that makes your pulse race.
You hesitate for a moment, unsure if you should take the step forward, but his gaze holds you in place, pulling you in. You don’t say a word as you walk into the room, your breath shallow, your body tense with anticipation.
The door shuts behind you with a soft click, and you’re left standing there, face-to-face with him.
As you step into the dimly lit room, the door softly closing behind you, the air shifts. The space feels smaller somehow, as if the weight of what’s about to happen is pressing in around you. Sunghoon stands in the center of the room, looking at you with that familiar intensity, his eyes dark yet filled with something more.
He doesn’t speak at first, just watches you with a quiet sort of patience, as if giving you time to adjust to the moment. Your heart races, and you feel the familiar flutter of nerves settle deep in your stomach.
“Come here,” he says, his voice low, coaxing.
You hesitate for a moment, the air thick with the unspoken tension. You know what he wants, but there’s still something inside you that holds back, unsure of whether you should take that next step. But Sunghoon doesn’t wait for you to make up your mind. With a few slow steps, he closes the distance between you, his hand reaching out to gently cup your cheek.
His touch is soft but firm, as if he’s grounding you, and you can’t help but lean into it. His thumb brushes over your skin in slow, soothing circles, and the tension between you builds, an electric current crackling in the space around you.
“You’re beautiful,” he murmurs, his words so quiet you almost think you imagined them. But you didn’t. His eyes never leave yours, studying every flicker of emotion that crosses your face, as if he’s searching for something, something to pull him closer.
You swallow hard, your pulse quickening at his words, feeling like they hold more weight than they should. There’s something in the way he says it, the way his voice dips, just turns you on.
The space between you seems to disappear in an instant, and Sunghoon leans in just enough to rest his forehead against yours. The proximity makes your breath catch in your throat, the tension between you almost suffocating, but at the same time, you can’t tear yourself away.
For a moment, neither of you moves, both of you just breathing in the same air, letting the silence stretch between you, heavy with anticipation. You feel like you’re on the edge of something, but you’re not sure what that something is yet.
“You don’t have to be nervous,” he says softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “I just want to be close to you.”
Before you can react, Sunghoon tilts his head just slightly, his lips brushing against your forehead in a light, lingering kiss. His breath is warm against your skin, and the softness of his kiss sends a flutter through you. It’s gentle, but the weight of it makes your chest tighten, a quiet but undeniable ache building inside you.
When he pulls back, just enough to look into your eyes again, you can see it in his gaze, he wants you right now.
It’s your turn now, and without thinking, you close the space between you, your lips meeting his in a rough, intense kiss. It’s everything—the warmth of his mouth against yours, the way his hand slides to the back of your neck, pulling you closer with a quiet urgency. The kiss deepens, his tongue making way into your mouth. His free hand makes it's way under your shirt, as he manages to unclasp your bra easily.
You pull away from the kiss, looking at his piercing eyes. Sunghoon breathes slowly, staring right you with a smirk on his face. And just like a flash, you could feel him roughly pull up your shirt, causing your bra to fall in the process. Now you stood completely topless infront of him.
He stared at your delicate breasts, before lowering himself to lick your hard nipple. You bite your lips to hold back a whimper that dared to escape. He looked so fucking good. His eyes wander back up at yours before he latched his mouth on your entire nipple, sucking softly. You could feel yourself grow wet at his actions as you whimpered softly at the gentle pleasure Sunghoon was giving you. He slowly pulls away and gives small kisses to your breast before trailing it down your stomach.
"You're so fucking pretty. I need to taste that pussy princess." Sunghoon whispers before pulling down your skirt, revealing the cute pink lacy panties you wore, just for him.
He smirks at the sight of them, your stomach churned in embarrassment as he slowly pulled down your panties, a trail of your wetness sticking onto the pantie as it went down.
Sunghoon almost drools at the sight of your wet pussy. All you guys did was just kiss and yet your already this turned on? He felt himself getting hard just at the mere sight of you being this pathetic. He pushes you lightly against the wall, making you lean on it before spreading your legs slightly more open. Your whole pussy is now in clear view infront of him and the scent of your cunt is driving him crazy.
His lips make contact with the plush of your inner thighs, planting small kisses in different spots. His teasing only further driving you crazy and more needy. You let out a breathy whisper saying his name, and he just smirks while looking up at you.
His hands hold your thighs apart while he uses his thumbs to spread your pussy lips, giving your clit more space. He brings his mouth closer to your cunt before licking a small stripe from your leaking hole to your clit, spreading your wetness alll over. That action alone leaves your stomach churning. His tongue starts to give your clit small kitty licks.
"Mpmh, oh.. fuck-" you whimper as you bite your lip to prevent any more noises from leaving your mouth.
Feeling riled up, Sunghoon starts to suck on your clit. His eyes never leaving yours, staring at you while his tongue works wonders. Your fingers fists his hair as he slowly brings his fingers up to cunt, inserting a finger in. You tug his hair harder at the sudden feeling of his long finger inside you, making him moan into your wet cunt. Your moans can't stop leaving past your lips, this only motivates Sunghoon to insert another finger inside, thrusting them at a quick pace.
"It's so fucking good Hoon!-" You cry out loud, his thick fingers feeling inside your warm walls, already having you see clouds.
“Taking it like such a good girl..” he mumbles, the vibrations of his voice stimulating your clit even further.
You could feel your stomach forming a knot, it was too intense. Your legs feeling weak and the only support being Sunghoon's hands that are gripping your thighs tightly. You couldn't take it anymore.
"H-Hoon- 'm close!" You babble out. Sunghoon continues to curl his fingers inside you at an even faster pace, his tongue pressed hardly against your clit making an '8' motion. The knot becomes too tight, and you couldn't hold it in anymore.
You finally let loose, letting your orgasm wash over you. Your legs begin to tremble as you grip Sunghoon's hair so tight, you almost felt like you were about to rip some of it off his hair. His tongue and fingers slowed down a little, helping you ride off your orgasm. You take heavy breaths, looking at him as he just smiles before starting to thrust his fingers in and out of you at a rough pace.
"Hoon- I can't take it-" Your choke out your cries as now he starts to overstimulate your cunt. Your legs start to shiver and kick around gently, trying to get him off your pussy.
"Be a good girl and stay still." His voice, raspy and dominant. He only looks up at you with a smirk as his fingers ram in and out of you, making you feel the familiar feeling of the knot in your stomach again.
Not even two minutes had passed by since your first orgasm, and your already feeling your second orgasm wanting to unleash all over his fingers. Sunghoon curls his fingers, directly feeling your g-spot which sends you over the moon. And with that, you squirt all over his fingers. Making a sticky mess from your cunt to his fingers to the floor.
You look at him, still in a daze, your heart pounding relentlessly inside your chest. You were nervous—really nervous. You hadn’t done anything like this in forever, and now… with Park Sunghoon? The thought sent your mind spiraling as a bead of sweat trickled down your temple.
He seemed to sense your hesitation, his sharp gaze softening just enough to catch your unease. Without a word, his hand moved, fingers still dirty with your cum, and cupped your cheek.
“Let’s take a bath together, yeah?” His voice dropped, low and smooth. His lips curved into a faint smile. “We can’t have you all tensed up here.”
Before you could gather your thoughts, he straightened, turning with an almost lazy confidence as he headed toward the bathroom.
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The warm water sunk you, soothing your tense muscles as you leaned back against the tub. The room was dim, lit only by the soft glow of a single light above the sink. You ran your fingers absentmindedly along the surface of the water, thinking about him.
A soft knock at the bathroom door startled you.
“You decent?” Sunghoon’s familiar voice called out, teasing but warm.
You managed a nervous chuckle, “We’re way past that, don’t you think?”
The door creaked open, and there he was, his dark hair slightly damp from the steam, clinging to his forehead, his eyes catching the soft light. Without saying a word, he stepped into the room, letting his towel drop with casual ease.
You quickly looked away, your cheeks flushing as the sound of water shifted behind you. You felt the weight of him stepping into the tub, the water level rising as he sank in across from you.
The space between you felt both small and vast, the soft lapping of water, the quiet hum of his breathing. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the silence hanging comfortably in the air.
“You’re quiet,” he finally said, his voice low.
“I just…” You paused, searching for words. “I’m still trying to process all this. It feels… surreal.”
He leaned back against the edge of the tub, his dark eyes studying you. “I get that. Believe me, I do.”
You tilted your head, curiosity piqued by the sudden seriousness in his tone. “Do you?”
“More than you think.” He let out a soft sigh, his gaze dropping to the water. “People always see me as… well, him. The idol. The perfect image. The untouchable Sunghoon.” His lips twitched into a bitter smile. “But that’s not who I am. Not really.”
His words hung heavy in the air, and you felt your chest tighten. You leaned forward slightly, resting your arms on your knees. “Then who are you? Really?”
His eyes flickered up to meet yours, something raw and unguarded glimmering beneath the surface. “I’m just a guy. A guy who’s scared of letting people see the parts of him that aren’t perfect. The parts that don’t shine on stage.” He paused, his jaw tightening for a moment before continuing. “There’s so much I keep buried. So many things I’ve never told anyone.”
Your heart ached at the vulnerability in his voice. “Why are you telling me this?”
He hesitated, his fingers tracing small circles in the water. “Because… with you, it feels different. Like I don’t have to try so hard. Like maybe, just maybe, I can be myself for once.”
His words hit you like a wave, and you felt your chest swell with an emotion you couldn’t quite name. He looked up again, his gaze softer now, the smallest hint of a smile playing on his lips.
“It’s scary, you know,” he murmured, his voice barely audible over the water. “Letting someone see all the messy parts of you. But with you… it doesn’t feel so scary.”
The weight of his confession settled between you, and you realized how close you’d leaned toward him without noticing. You reached out instinctively, your fingers brushing against his beneath the water.
“I’m glad you trust me,” you said softly, your voice trembling with sincerity. “It… means a lot.”
For a moment, he just looked at you, the intensity of his gaze making your breath hitch. “You’re special,” he said finally, his voice steady, resolute. “And I don’t say that lightly.”
The warmth of his words wrapped around you like a blanket, and for the first time since stepping into the tub, you felt completely at ease. The space between you... it felt safe.
The two of you sat there, the water cooling slightly as time slipped away, sharing stories and moments that no one else would ever know. And in that quiet, steamy bathroom, you felt a connection deeper than you’d ever imagined.
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"It-It's too big.. fuck I can't-" you hiss out, your words coming out breathy as Sunghoon inserts his tip inside your wet hole. Of course, you both being naked in a bathtub together would lead to you being bent over the tub, his hands on your hips as he slowly inserts himself in.
"You can take it for me princess, be good and let me do the work." He says in a husky whisper.
Your walls suddenly feel full as he inserts himself fully inside your cunt. You led out a load moan, the pleasure overwhelming you. Sunghoon adjusted himself, gripping onto the flesh of your hips before starting to move.
He first moved slowly and carefully, putting just enough force to make his dick enter you all the way and make you feel completely full. His movements were perfect, the mixture of his precum and your cum from your previous orgasms creating the perfect lube for his dick. His hand on your hip tightened as he was feeling drunk every time your pussy swallowed his cock and he felt the warmth of your walls covering every inch of it.
"Fuck princess, you feel so fucking good. God, I love you and this sweet cunt of yours."
The sudden confession from your idol only makes you further clench around his cock, making him groan as he frees one of his hands from your hips to wrap them around your neck, lightly choking you.
“I-I love..- ngh-” you muttered out barely, “you..!” you emphasized that word really loudly, causing him to chuckle and to only quicken his pace, knowing the affect he had on you.
His cock twitched inside your pussy, making you understand that he's going to cum soon. You weren't getting any further from your orgasm as his movements became more rough. The sound of your guy's skins slapping each other and moans echoed throughout the bathroom. You could feel your chest burn up as he continues to quicken his pace, his balls hitting your cunt which vibrated towards your clit, giving you extra stimulation. His thrusts became more needy, and you could barely form coherent thoughts and the grip on your neck only become tighter, having you take quick breaths between each thrust.
“Hoon...!” you moaned out his name before you couldn't take it anymore. You could feel you wet yourself around his cock, causing him to let out a small chuckle as the scene got more messy. Sunghoon, no longer able to hold back, thrusted a few more times before he finally came. The sudden feeling of his warm cum filling you up inside made your legs twitch, Sunghoon groans from the feeling of satisfaction of the long needing orgasm. You both pant heavily as you both ride out your orgasms, before he pulls out, leaving your cunt empty with only his cum inside.
He admires the sight infront of him. You, bent over, with his cum dripping out of your pussy. His fingers grabs any cum lingering outside and brings it up to your hole before inserting his finger in gently, preventing anything from spilling out of your sweet cunt. His gentle action causing you to let out a small moan as he pulls his finger out of your sensitive pussy.
"You really enjoyed that didn't you?" He teases, making you turn your head to look at him and nod.
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The two of you walked side by side, the soft hum of the city filling the silence between you. You clung to his arm, your grip firm as if afraid he’d slip away. The cool night air kissed your skin, but despite your closeness, something felt off.
Sunghoon’s focus was on his phone, his face illuminated by the glow of the screen. His brows furrowed occasionally, his thumbs tapping away with an ease that made it clear whatever he was doing held more importance than your presence beside him.
You glanced at him, your chest tightening with unspoken words. You tried to shake the creeping feeling of being invisible, telling yourself it was just nerves. After all, he had spent the night with you. That had to mean something, right?
“Did you have a good time tonight?” you asked softly, your voice barely above the hum of passing cars.
“Hmm?” he murmured, his eyes still glued to his phone. “Yeah, it was fine.”
Fine. The word stung more than you wanted to admit. You bit the inside of your cheek, hoping he’d elaborate, but he didn’t. Instead, he typed something quickly and let out a quiet chuckle—clearly amused by whatever was on his screen.
Your fingers tightened around his arm as you tried again, forcing a smile. “It’s nice out tonight. The city looks so pretty at this hour.”
“Mm,” he muttered, nodding absently.
Your smile faltered, and you turned your gaze to the ground. Each step toward the train station felt heavier, the initial glow of the night dimming with every passing second.
When you finally reached the platform, the faint rumble of an approaching train filled the air. You stopped walking, turning to face him. He didn’t notice at first, too busy scrolling on his phone, but you gently tugged on his sleeve, catching his attention.
“Sunghoon,” you said, your voice wavering slightly.
He looked up, his expression unreadable as he slipped his phone into his pocket. For a moment, you thought you’d see the same warmth he’d shown earlier, but his face remained calm, distant.
“I’ll text you when I get home, okay?” he said, his tone light but firm.
Your chest tightened at his words, but you nodded, forming a smile “Okay.”
The train screeched to a halt in front of him, and he took a step back, creating just enough space between you that it felt like miles. He gave you a small nod, a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips, then turned to board the train.
You raised a hand in a half-hearted wave, watching as the doors closed behind him. The train pulled away moments later, leaving you standing alone on the platform.
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It had been two weeks. Fourteen days of silence that chipped away at you, piece by piece.
After that night, after the promises whispered between breaths, you had waited. You’d replayed every moment, every touch, every word, trying to hold onto the warmth of him. But as the days stretched on, that warmth faded, replaced by an icy void in your chest.
You had convinced yourself that he was just busy. He was an idol, after all. His life wasn’t like yours. He had schedules to follow, appearances to make, fans to please. But even those excuses began to crumble under the weight of the silence.
At first, you’d kept it casual.
"Heyy! Did you make it home safe?"
"How are you?"
But when days passed with no reply, you became more vulnerable.
"Did I do something wrong?"
"Please, just let me know if you’re okay."
Each message went unanswered, some marked with the cruel sting of seen, others left on delivered, hanging in the void like a conversation with yourself.
The realization crept in slowly, like a shadow swallowing the light. He had used you. What felt so real to you—his touch, his whispered words, the way he’d held you so close—had been nothing more than a fleeting moment for him. A single night. You were just another girl to him.
And yet, even as the bitterness settled in your heart, there was a part of you that couldn’t let go. You couldn’t delete the messages you’d sent. You couldn’t bring yourself to block his number. A part of you still held onto the foolish hope that he’d text back, that he’d tell you it wasn’t what you thought, that he cared.
When you received the email reminder about his next fan meeting, your stomach twisted. The ticket had been booked weeks ago, back when the idea of seeing him again filled you with joy instead of dread. You debated not going, but the ticket was non-refundable, and deep down, you couldn’t resist the thought of seeing him again. Even if it hurt.
The day of the fan meeting came, and you moved through it like a ghost. The outfit you’d chosen weeks ago: a perfect blend of cute and casual now felt heavy on your body now. The usual excitement you felt while waiting in line, surrounded by fans buzzing with energy, was absent.
When Sunghoon finally stepped onto the stage, the crowd erupted in cheers, screams, and tears. You looked up at him, your breath hitching for a moment. He looked just as perfect as you remembered, his dark hair falling over his forehead, his smile as radiant as ever.
But as you watched him laugh and interact with the crowd, you felt none of the joy you used to. Instead, it felt like watching a stranger. The man who had held you, who had whispered promises in your ear, felt so far away now.
Your eyes followed him as he scanned the crowd, his gaze briefly landing on yours. Your heart leapt despite itself, but the moment passed as quickly as it came. His expression didn’t change. There was no flicker of recognition, no smile, no warmth. He simply looked away, moving on as if you were just another face in the sea of fans.
You tried to swallow the lump in your throat, but it refused to go away. The rest of the fan meeting blurred together, the moments dragging on painfully. By the time it ended, you felt relief—relief that you could finally leave, that you wouldn’t have to keep pretending you were okay.
You stood up, clutching your bag tightly as you made your way out of the venue. The noise of excited fans filled the air, but it all felt muffled, like you were underwater.
As you stepped outside into the cool evening air, your phone buzzed. You paused, your heart skipping a beat. Without thinking, you pulled it out, expecting it to be a notification about the event.
But it wasn’t.
His name flashed across your screen.
Your breath caught as you opened the message, your fingers trembling.
“Same place. Tonight.”
You didn’t reply. You didn’t need to. Deep down, you knew you’d go.
For a moment, you felt like the world was spinning too fast, like you were losing control. And maybe that’s exactly what he wanted.
Because even though you knew better, even though every part of you screamed that this wasn’t love, you stayed.
And he knew you would.
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thosewickedlovelies ¡ 8 months ago
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A guide to writing fics set in museums / with a museum worker character
Hey hi hello it’s your local museum worker here, offering you some insight and tips to writing museum-related fics! This is primarily organized as a list of different jobs you could have in a museum and what their duties entail. This post might also be useful to you if you’re considering working in museums and want to know What Goes On In There. Let’s go!
For simplicity/fic-writing purposes, I would divide museums into 2 very rough groups: large national or city museums that Have Money (think the Smithsonian or British Museums, or the Chicago Field Museum or the Royal Armouries Museum in Leeds); and smaller local museums. These could be local industry and culture/history-of-our town museums, historic houses, or  really niche subject museums run by One Person With A Passion.
Big national museums have a fuckton of staff and money (museums can never have enough money. But these places are very well-off compared to somewhere small that might always be hustling and writing grant applications). If you work here you’re likely to have a specific role in a particular department, and you probably won’t do much outside this role (ex., if you work in collections management, you probably won’t also design exhibits)
The smaller the museum, the more varied your workload will be/the more likely you are to be doing a little bit of everything. You’re probably organizing collections storage, manning the front desk, and desperately running fundraising efforts, all at once. 
To this end, smaller museums are more likely to be closed one or two days a week- you’ll be there, probably cleaning displays or managing storage, but visitors won’t be.
A lot of (most?) universities also have museums, so a college town setting is also doable. But the same big vs small museum disparity is still possible! At Penn State University, for example, the Palmer Art Museum is its own (recently redone iirc) building in the center of campus with a lovely plaza out front, while the Matson Museum of Anthropology is uhhhhh a couple classrooms in the Anthropology Department (which they’re currently rebuilding tbf, so we’ll see what they’ve done with it in 2025).
Types of Jobs
Curator
The one museum job that everyone can name. Nominally the person in charge. Probably laments that their job is way more admin than fun hands-on stuff now.
Actually this is the role I have the least knowledge of, but I think that’s partially because this job might vary the most from place to place? Structural organization can vary a lot between institutions, but I think the higher up you get in any field, the more your job tends to consist of meetings/overseeing, designating, and ~liaising~
A list of things a curator might do:
Planning or approving events and fundraisers, schmoozing with donors and members at said events, approving or designing a schedule of exhibits, publish outreach/advertising or research materials, oversee hiring, approve new object acquisitions (or de-acquisitions), generally make sure that the museum is working within the scope of its mission and if necessary, change or refine their mission
The curator might not necessarily control a museum’s funds; in this case they’ll liaise with the people who do, likely a Board of Executives or Board of Trustees. Once they get the money from these people, though, they could potentially redistribute it as they see fit.
 If you work in a fuckoff museum like the BM, you could also be the curator of a specific department, arranged by overarching subject, geographic area, time period, or even object type (eg Curator of Archaeobotany, Curator of Korean Collections, curator of coins from the medieval period). These categories can be more or less specific depending on what kind of holdings your museum has. I think these types of curators would still be able to do interesting things, as they aren’t the ones who Oversee The Whole Place.
You can also be an assistant or associate curator, like being an assistant manager.
Education/Engagement
These are the people who design fun extra activities (esp for kids) in the galleries or relevant events/workshops/lectures the public can attend. They might be called Engagement/Education Officer or Events Manager or anything similar
Again, the bigger the museum you work at, the more specific your role is likely to be. You might focus on web content/outreach and social media, manage the ‘friends/members of the museum’ program, or engage with shareholders, etc
Or you might do things like develop content and events to engage adult audiences. Workshops or lectures connected to new exhibits, after-hours visits. These people are also probably the ones with an eye on accessibility- you’ve probably seen advertisements for museums’ early or late hours for older visitors, or ‘quiet hours’ for people who might be overstimulated by normal museum hubbub, or tactile workshops designed for visually impaired folks.
I think most places would try to have someone specific for kids activities at the very least. They’ll be designing little activities or dress-up stations for the galleries, kiddie mascots or scavenger hunt trail kind of things, as well as, potentially, activities for any digital elements in the museum. They probably also coordinate school visits and act as a tour guide for classes, and will lead the kids in specific workshops or lessons in classrooms attached to the museum.
As a note on technology- some people would probably say that integrating digital elements into exhibits is the ~next big thing~, that museums have to get with the times in this regard, but opinions vary. Big science and technology museums are the most likely to have the most digital and techy elements in their exhibits, so if this is your setting, your character could also be a generic “tech person”. I would go so far as to say the smaller/more local the museum, the less technology you’re likely to have, but smaller museums are able to get grants, some of them potentially for specifically this type of thing, so it’s totally possibly that they have a few tablets with integrated activities, or some other Digital/Screen Thing.
Engagement Officers are probably the most likely people to be drafted for out-of-hours events, so that’s a potentially fun thing for your character to do. Some museums, particularly bigger ones, have event spaces attached that anybody can rent out, for weddings, galas, markets, etc, so they might also take care of these bookings as well.
Exhibit Design
This role has a lot of nebulous terms: exhibit coordinator, design constructor, exhibit programmer- but these are the people who design the exhibits. They’ll come up with a theme or narrative, a design scheme, choose the objects, write the text. They’ll probably come up with some marketing material as well, that matches the design scheme, or they’ll liaise with the marketing people who will.
These people might not be as familiar with the collections as the collections management folk (below), depending on how strictly divided your roles are, so they’ll likely consult with the collections people on choosing objects for a particular exhibit or theme (they say that good exhibit design builds an exhibit from the objects up, but I digress).
These people will also direct and participate in the install and deinstall (the actual terms) of exhibits- putting the objects on the right plinths/stands and arranging everything just so in the cases. Genuinely there’s a lot of psychology behind exhibit design- colors, lighting, the way you might design an exhibit to be navigated vs the path people will actually take through the gallery, people’s sight lines and where their eyes go first, how the display of any given object affects people’s perception of the importance of that object. Fascinating stuff, many books on the subject. 
There are also a lot of accessibility concerns to be considered here- how bright is the gallery, how large is your display text, at what height is the central eyeline of your cases?
Museums often loan objects to and from each other’s collections, so if you’re building an exhibit and you’d really like to include X type of object but your museum doesn’t have any, you can borrow some from another museum (this isn’t necessarily a guarantee- museums are allowed to say no to these requests, but I think manners would dictate that they should have a good reason)
Museums sometimes tour whole exhibitions as well- the objects, the text placards, maybe even the stands for super special or fragile items- and exhibit coordinator people are the ones who would handle those arrangements.
Potentially good opportunities for angst stories here- wow things come to life at your museum, you fall in love with a statue but oh no it’s only at your museum for three months
Collections Care
People who work in Collections Management have the most direct contact with the museum objects themselves. You probably work here if you prefer objects to people. When a museum gets new material, these are the people involved. They might not always initiate acquisitions, and the final approval is probably down to the relevant curator, but 98% of the time they’d be consulted (I hope).
A mind-boggling statistic is that most museums only have like 10% of their collections on display at any given time. Yeah. Forreal lol. But collections folk will know where the other 90% is and what’s in it (particularly the longer they’ve been there). 
There’s usually a head Collections Manager. Other workers might be a Collection Assistant/Associate, Collections Officer (we like calling people Officers for some reason), Registrar, or some variant of these depending on the specific flavor of your duties. 
Main job duties can be divided amongst documentation and database work, organization and storage of objects, and lite conservation. Just how much/how technical the conservation work depends on your own training, but also on the size/funding of your museum. The more money, the more likely your museum is to have its own lab with people specifically trained as conservators. More on them later. 
Here’s what happens when a museum gets new stuff!:
Ideally, it goes to a ‘quarantine zone’ first. This is a separate space or room where the objects can relax for a few weeks to a few months (ultimate best practice is actually a year, but, you know. that’s a long time) to ensure that they’re not harboring anything icky (bugs, mold, etc) that will infect the rest of the collections. It’s ideally super-sealed and climate-controlled, but the primary feature should be that it’s away from the main collections store.
Collections folk do the paperwork. They’ll give each individual object a unique number (following their preexisting system that will allow it to be identified distinct from all the other objects in the collection). They’ll create a ‘collections record’ for the object- documentation containing any and all information about the object. This includes the accession paperwork (everything that says ‘we legally own this now’); provenance info (all previous owners and everywhere else the object has been in its life); measurements and description (in painful detail); and conservation history and concerns (ie ‘there’s a crack in the side so pick up with care’, ‘this was repaired in the 70s so that glue is gonna fall apart any day now’).
(I'll say as a fic writer that this would be an great time to wax poetic over a beautiful statue or painting; you can’t write “This golden crown deserved to be worn by a great king, or maybe by that broody Roman general in the painting in Gallery B” in the collections paperwork, but you can think it.)
For fiction’s sake, your collections records could be either paper or digital, but in an ideal world a museum would have both setups, for security’s sake. So you’d fill out some long forms and/or input all the information to the digital collections management system (‘the CMS’, or referred to by your specific software’s name, as there are many out there). The CMS is not a static archive, but rather a living register that’s updated every time an object is interacted with. The object records also include where an object is at any given time (‘normally in Case E in the Fancypants Gallery, currently in Conservation Lab A for repairs’).
Once the objects are done in quarantine, they’ll go to storage. If they’re being displayed immediately, they’ll probably go to some interim storage space/shelf with other objects for the same exhibit and in that case only get a temporary setting. Every object will get labeled with their object number (directly on them, with a special pen that’s safe for this. Or if it’s really tiny, like a coin or jewelry, then their own tiny box will get the label). Small or fragile items, or items grouped together, will go in their own boxes (made of acid- and lignin-free cardboard or polyethylene plastic, like Rubbermaid totes; lined with polyethylene foam and then acid-free tissue paper). Stable ceramic vessels might sit directly on lined shelving, particularly if they’re very large or heavy, like many stone objects.
Listen, every type of object has a particular way(s) of storing that’s best for them, you’re gonna have to look that up yourself or consult someone if you need that level of detail
Ideally, before being stored away, objects are also photographed. This could be part of the Collection Officer’s duty, and/or your museum could have a photographer on staff. (say it with me:) This is more likely if your museum is really huge and/or has a backlog of unphotographed collections and has hired someone specifically, even if temporarily, to improve its collections documentation.
I would say a collections person, or anyone with a museum studies degree, should have some minimum amount of conservation knowledge that includes basic storage standards for different object materials, how to spot potential preservation problems (like if your bronze axe head is actively oxidizing or if that green spot looks the same as it always has since starting and pausing decaying), and maybe how to give objects a basic clean or deal with certain types of problems. But the nitty-gritty science is more the realm of Conservators, someone with a degree that ends in -Sci or who’s done some other certification course.
The general collections store should always be dark, slightly too cool for prolonged human comfort, and labeled to high heaven. Objects will most likely be grouped by material- ceramics/pottery, metals, precious metals and stones (jewelry or beads), stone, glass, wood, bone/ivory/other organic material like feathers or teeth or anything that can be decorative, textiles, paintings. A museum often has some paper material/documents, usually part of or related to a group of objects they acquired, but generally paper and photographic material is the realm of archives and archivists. Yet again, the bigger/more well-funded the museum, the more likely it to have a separate archive department, so your character could also work as an archivist in a museum.
Another thing the collections care folk probably do is ship objects. Remember how I said that  museums loan objects and exhibitions to each other? The stuff’s gotta travel somehow! If things are being shipped internationally, they’ll go in big wooden crates, with specifically dimensioned partitions inside. Then it will be lined with our favorite foam and tissue paper, cut so the objects sit snugly inside. I haven’t personally worked anywhere with a possibility of local shipments, so I can’t say where the threshold might be as to when a museum would just pay an employee to drive the objects over vs ship them with a shipping company. But the preparations would be similar, minus the big wooden crate but with extra-careful packing (and paperwork and insurance etc)
Conservation
Conservators are the people who work in labs with fancy equipment. Not every museum will have a formal conservator or a lab of any kind; sometimes the collections care person fills this role, or if something urgently needs care beyond the abilities of the museum’s equipment, they might send it away to a lab elsewhere, the same way you can send your old VHS home videos to a professional archive to be digitized.
If an object is actively deteriorating in a way that could harm itself or other objects (as opposed to like, at risk of fading bc the lighting is wrong, which is a straightforward fix related to the environment), that’s when a conservator would intervene.
Some methods/machinery by which you can analyze objects:
Ultraviolet (UV) and infrared (IR) light - Different materials absorb and react to light differently, which you can use to identify them. Useful for seeing things like the different layers of paintings
Stereo-microscopy (microscopes, of varying strengths)
At magnifications of x5-x100 you can see things like tool marks from an object’s manufacture, traces from wear, deposits, and coatings
At x50-x500, with a thin sliver of a sample, you can see (and hopefully identify) fibers, layers, particles, metallographic structures 
You can get information from objects without taking samples, but samples are usually worth the information. 
energy dispersive x-ray fluorescence spectrometry (EDXRF) - EDXRF allows you to identify the elemental composition of the surface layer of an object. So it might tell you what a tool is made of, and also the composition of the objects it was used on, if they left traces
scanning electron microscopy (SEM) - an SEM uses a focused beam of electrons to produce a magnified, high-resolution image of the surface of an object
X-radiography, both film and digital - X-rayy are beneficial for objects that might be covered by dirt or corrosion and can show you details of an object’s construction or hidden structural weaknesses
I’m not a conservator, so if you want more hard science-based info, ask one of them lol
Listen to me. If you take nothing else away from this post, let it be this:
 Once an object is in a museum, it is never seeing natural daylight again. Sunlight is the ultimate enemy of every object’s lifespan. If you need to see an object in the sun or moon light for ~magical spell reasons~, you will straight up be stealing that object to smuggle it outside.
Okay. That being said, you do hear (and could probably google) stories about museum employees stealing things from their museums on purpose to prove a point about security or insurance to their higher-ups, so like. Depending on your type of museum, it might not be impossible to steal from lmao. (Don’t tell anyone I said that.)
Possibly the most useful advice for you to keep in mind when writing your conservator or collections care characters would be that touching objects hurts them. It might not hurt them now, it might not even hurt them in ten years, but every time you handle an object, there’s a risk that you’ll damage it. Not on purpose, obviously, but to err is human. The simplest, most effective advice my conservation professor ever gave us was “don’t handle an object if you don’t have to.” That means don’t move an object without a plan and a place to put it, first examination should always be visual, not tactile, etc. Unfortunately, that means that your character cannot walk around lovingly handling and caressing their favorite objects (unless this is a Night at the Museum situation where the objects are caressing them back, ykwim)
Museum Technician
These people probably have a lot of different names, but basically, technicians are the background muscle of the museum. They do the technical construction of bigger pieces of exhibition material, up to and including the exhibition cases themselves. 
So they wouldn’t deal with the small mount that the object rests on, but they might build the big plinth that the mount sits on. They’ll help move things around the building, particularly big heavy things, hang big framed works, assist with exhibit installs, and generally do most things which might involve power tools/equipment or heavy lifting
I worked in a big museum that hired a third party company to supply their technicians; I interviewed at another place that hired their own. If you’re a small museum, you might just have a freelance person that comes in once or twice a week to help move things.
Other
Other miscellaneous roles one could have in a museum: researcher (for exhibits and/or collections), gift shop or cafe worker, security guard, room attendant, translator, archaeologist, consultant
Honestly, TL;DR? Just have your character be a consultant of some kind. “Oh no, I don’t work here, I’m Y’s friend. They called me in to provide some expertise on X subject that they’re doing an exhibit on.” This could work for literally any subject- history/archaeology/anthropology, art, transportation, science and technology, anything you might find pictures of in an archive, idk. This could get you into an office or meeting room of some kind in the ‘employee only’ space of the museum, or potentially all the way into the collections store if you’re giving them information they were missing about some objects. Otherwise you’d probably (hopefully) need a key or some other kind of security clearance to get into the collections store.
Whew, that was a ride, huh? I hope this guide was useful to someone! I’m always open to answering questions if you think I forgot something or if anyone wants more details <3
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incaseyouart ¡ 1 month ago
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thank all the gods in the world jayvik isn't canon
Oooooh ohohoh, what a way to jumpstart my day! I could have just ignored this and deleted it, or written something like "lol sucks to be wrong", BUT, instead, I am delighting in a lengthy response as I sip my coffee, whether you read it or not. Because y'know what, Jayvik isn't just a ship to me; these two characters represent a bond that *literally* redefines a universe. So many people look to their fictional relationship as a hopeful guide for their own real situations, and I'm not gonna let some cowardly anon dismiss it. I didn't survive the Klance trenches to just ignore this.
Also, I'm an aethiest, so I neither thank nor blame any Gods.
First of all, have you seen this show? Have you truly watched it? Or did you just consume it shallowly, only once, not taking in any of its deeper meanings? Have you absorbed the level of compassion and love these two fictional men hold for each other? If one of these two had been a woman, perhaps you wouldn't have visited my blog and left this little gift, anon. I mean, I don't want to assume, but you haven't given me much to go on.
MANY creators contributed to this beautiful fandom, launching thousands of pieces of cosplay (notably BBN0$), fanart, fanfic (it ballooned on A03 after S02). Pinktea_san on Twitter made this timeline:
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Have you watched any of the BTS of the voice actors? Harry Lloyd (VA for Viktor) gives a beautifully crafted answer about whether or not Jayce and Viktor are platonic.
Oh yeah, Harry also freakin signed one of the top kudos'd Jayvik fics. Pretty big win for the author!
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Here also is Jayce's VA signing a beautiful piece of fanart:
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Do you know the ending is left open for interpretation, but a largely agreed-upon ending for Jayce and Viktor is that they're happily existing in companionship somewhere, in a little cottage by a stream, with their four children, baking each other cupcakes?
Christian Linke actually signed an iconic Jayvik meme~
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There's actually a whole Twitter thread here: "jayvik being supported by arcane staff (and other silly details in the series) — an endless thread"
There was also a gallery event at Gallery Nucleus wherein merch was sold (screened by Fortiche and Riot), including Jayvik-themed stickers:
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I think at this point, dear anon, you've either left or blocked me lol, but I will conclude this essay with this piece from Amanda Overton, a writer, co-producer and executive story-writer:
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I want to highlight this line: "Oh, well maybe there is hope [for] these guys to have some future beyond what the show intended."
All this to say: the show's ending is LEFT OPEN FOR INTERPRETATION. Your comment catalyzed me to spend my limited free time compiling these lil fandom-bits (flashbacks to composing scientific papers, oh man), because I truly believe Jayvik is a powerful and beautiful ship, in one of the healthiest fandoms I've ever been in. It's canon to a lot of people, including the freakin staff of the show, and it's canon to me. I won't force the ship on anyone, and if you want to think it's not canon, freakin' go ahead I guess. It's a goddamn multiverse of options. At this point, this response is for me, and anyone else who finds beauty in Jayvik.
Jayvik Nation, never die.
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