#and i totally fell for that but now watching it again its like

[businessbois]

.

[jayisa]

just saw the haikyuu movie and it was SO GOOD

[lqveharrington]

Golden Snitch | D.M.

summary: You don’t tell Draco what you’re dressing up as, and when he sees you, he can’t help but be enamored.

pairing: draco malfoy x fem!reader

includes: kissing, underage drinking, talks of sex, cursing

a/n: holding a poll for a similar imagine but a different character! (will post the other imagine in two days and poll in three!)

Halloween was a big thing at Hogwarts. Each house held their own parties and own costume competitions; There would be snacks — courtesy of the kitchen elves — and drinks smuggled in from home or Hogsmeade. It was one of the best nights throughout the school year.

From your fourth year to your very last, you enjoyed every single second. Of course, you were dressed differently every year in hopes to win the costume contests. You were the Corpse Bride, then Dorothy, then a pirate. But this year, you chose something a little closer to Hogwarts itself.

“You know we have to get down there now if you want to be in the competition, right?” Pansy flicked her hair back and adjusted her Cher outfit.

You huffed and finished the last bits of gold adorning your cheeks. You loved Pansy, you really did, but jesus, she was a stickler to rules and schedules sometimes.

“Look, I’m done now.” You dust your hands off and arrange your golden wings to be more presentable. “How do I look?”

“Hot.” Her eyes roamed over your body and winked at you. “Draco will totally drool.”

You send her an amused smile before rushing out the dorm hand in hand. When you got to the Slytherin common room, everyone and everything was already upbeat. The lights had been dimmed even more and green lights were casted all around. The floor was sticky in spilt drinks and the room reeked of sex.

"Let's go get drinks!" Pansy shouted over the loud music and elbowed her way through the mass of Slytherin students, gagging when one couple was getting too intimate on the dance floor. "I am so happy you and Draco have boundaries!"

You roll your eyes at her and grab a plastic cup, filling it with firewhisky and downing it fast enough to forget what Pansy had said. She gave you an unimpressed look and took her own shot.

After joining the infamous costume contest and winning, mingling with the others and downing more drinks, a fifth year finally announced the arrival of the Slytherin Prince himself. And the party only got rowdier from there.

The second the blonde stepped into the common room, drinks were shoved into his hands; A courtesy of Blaise. Draco made his way over to the group of seventh years he deemed his friends since childhood before his eyes landed on you.

His eyes roamed across your body. From the golden makeup adorning your gorgeous face to the golden dress that hugged your curves and accentuated them, it was like he fell in love all over again. He watched you down another drink and shook his head in amusement. You looked so confident and happy and excited and ethereal in what you wore that he wanted to keep you all to himself.

“Well, what do we have here?” His free hand found its way to the curve of your hip and pulled you close to him, smirking when your eyes get blown wide at his sudden presence. “You look ravishing.”

“I know. I won the competition like always.” You brag as you murmur and wrap a hand around his tie, softly tugging on it so you could meet his lips without needing to strain. “And who are you supposed to be?”

“James Bond.” He pulled you even closer, wanting to be completely flush against you. “But I should’ve worn my Quidditch uniform because I believe I have my eye on the golden snitch.”

The smile that graced your lips practically emits warmth when you realize Draco knew what you were. “You should probably keep your sight on her because she’s not straying far.”

“Better not.” He planted a mind searing kiss to your lips and thumbed the costume, parting when he felt how rough it was. “Your dress feels uncomfortable to the touch, love. It’s not real gold, is it?”

“No, not all of it. Daddy wouldn’t let me get one.” You sigh as you lean your head on his chest and hiccup when he pats your ass softly at the remark.

Draco could practically see the flashing signs around you saying how plastered you were, and it was truly entertaining at the most. He knew you were drunk when you flaunted your father’s money around, which you typically never do. He finished his cup before tossing it somewhere, holding your hip with two hands now.

You look up at him at the movement, wide eyes only reflecting your pupils. “What?”

“Nothing, love. Just admiring.” He scanned your body once more and planted a kiss to the top of your head. “How many drinks have you had so far?”

You shrug and gasp when someone poured a fresh round right behind Draco. “Let’s go get some more!”

He shook his head and locked his arms behind you, “No more for you. You are so fucking drunk.”

“I am not!” You huff and almost stomp your golden heel on the ground like a spoiled child. “Blaise and Pansy are! They’re practically fucking behind you!”

Draco pursed his lips and pulled you away from the center of the common room. It was funny how only during Halloween you would be more drunk than he was. Any other time, he would be absolutely plastered and ready to throw you over his shoulder for some quality time in the bedroom. Besides, he was also drunk, but not as drunk as you were at the moment.

“Hey—!” You whine and stumble up the staircase to his dorm. “Where are we going?”

“You’re done for tonight, my love.” He opened his shared dorm and quickly shut it behind him, quieting the room from the loud mass of music and people downstairs.

You blink at the sudden quietude and look up at him with eyes that made him want to abandon everything and take you there. Draco cleared his throat and adjusted himself, rubbing his palms against his eyes.

“Let’s get you changed into comfortable clothing, yeah?” He dug through his clothes to find a sweater and guided you toward the bathroom, flicking the light on.

“Draco?” You mumble as he sat you down on the counter and pulled your golden pumps off. “Draco.”

“Yes, baby?” He look up at you from his kneeled position, eyes equally blown wide. “What is it?”

You blink again and just watch him for a little longer, keeping eye contact with the blonde. Even in your intoxicated state you still found time to admire him.

“Nothing.” You sent him a cheeky smile at his expression, taking off your golden wings and handing them to him.

He stood from his spot and kissed your shoulder, “Do you wanna shower or go straight to bed?”

“Bed.” You yawn.

Draco hummed and helped your stand, slowly removing your dress and replacing it with his quidditch sweater. You smiled tiredly and leaned your body against his when he began wiping the makeup off your face, playing with the end of his tie.

“You remembered.” You murmur sleepily, blindly reaching for your toothbrush you kept in the boys dorm.

“I’ve been doing this for two years straight, I think I would know.” He handed you your toothbrush and toothpaste before removing the rest of your makeup and golden pins from your hair. “There.”

“Thank you.” You spoke with your toothbrush still in your mouth and leaned against the counter as Draco moved around you to change.

When you were both settled into bed, you wanted to just fall asleep right then and there, but you still had one thing to do. Your body was practically on top of his when you thought of it, your head rested on his bare shoulder.

“Draco?” You murmur and trace hearts on his chest, splaying your hand over his beating heart.

“Yeah?” He tilted his head over to you, resting his cheek on the top of your head.

“Happy third year anniversary.” You smile softly and fiddle with the promise ring he got you years ago.

“Happy anniversary, my love.” He hugged you tighter, head now buried in your shoulder and neck. “Thank you for being amazing.”

You kiss his cheek and sigh, “I love you.”

“I love you more than you could ever know.” Draco murmured and kissed you properly. “Cheers to three years.”

©lqveharrington - all rights reserved. do not copy, translate or share my work on other media platforms

[ilydeku]

teacher izuku has a girlfriend??

Regardless of the joy and spur he expelled towards the students, Izuku knew how to maintain the steady hand of keeping the class under set composure. Nothing but the intent to teach and the will to learn, an equitable relationship between the two—and it was no question. Being the most loved and favored teacher had its perks, and grandiose respect was one of them.

But no matter how mature a student has grown, having fun will always reign somewhere along their focal point. Even if that fun means encouraging their teacher in his love life.

"...-because a good relationship between your teammates makes for optimal communication, conduct, and cooperation," explained Izuku, pointing from one spot on the board to another, well immersed in his lesson. "Now, considering quirk-"

"Speaking of relationships, are you in a relationship, sir?" A student, a frivolous girl, teasingly pipes in sudden interest. Plenty of students amongst the grade claimed a crush on Deku-sensei. Of course they did: he's sweet, very tentative and understanding to all his students individually, and takes his time to really help and engrave the knowledge he possessed for them to become the best future heroes they could be. That, and mostly his physical charms. So wouldn't it be in his best interest to have a girlfriend?

Little did Izuku know that this inquiry marked the beginning of his first uncontrollable havoc.

For a moment, he hesitated, pausing midway on the convoluted diagrams drawn on the whiteboard. A strange question, but he thought nothing much of it. He turned around and crossed his arms, lazily pointing the expo marker to the girl.

"I'm gonna pretend I didn't hear that. Unrelevant, didn't see a hand raised-"

"Aw, but sir!" She draws out, slumping back in her seat. "Are you?"

Some students began to look at each other and exchange a few grins until the room began to slowly increase in volume and erupt into unintelligible chatter.

"Ahem."

The room fell into silence accordingly, but he could clearly read the expression on everyone's faces. The class was still waiting for his answer, the way they stared and leaned over their desks in anticipation. Izuku sighs and turns back to the board.

"...no, I'm not in a relationship. Moving on, the information I've drawn-"

"Really?" The girl cuts in matter of factly with a tilt of her head. "But aren't you and y/n talking??"

A chorus of engrossed 'oohs' echoed across the room and a very subtle, but defined shade of pink dusted his cheeks at the mention of you. He turned around again and attempted to regain composure of the class.

"Everyone settle down-"

"Y/n L/n? Isn't that (hero name)?? I think she's in the top 20's now."

"Yeah! I've seen her drop by the school a couple times during lunch!"

"Now that I think about it, Deku-sensei does have her come in as a guest speaker a lot..."

It was just one after another, the addition of suspicions and theories now bringing the truth to the surface. Izuku swallowed.

A loose black band around Izuku's wrist caught another student's eye and they stood up and pointed in excitement. "Look!! Deku-sensei has hair ties on his wrist!! Hair ties!!"

"Kids, please...-"

"Wow..I've never seen your class this rowdy before, Izuku!!" That voice. His head snapped toward you in surprised, totally flustered about the situation. The entire class went dead silent and turned to you, standing at the entrance of the classroom. You wave at his kids with a smile and stroll over to Izuku's desk, dropping off a bag of some sort. He watches you endearingly.

"You forgot your lunch at home, silly."

"O-Oh did I? Haha, sorry y/n. Thank you. You're on break right now, right?"

The students watched you both like a show, taking in the interaction, the body language, the words. There's no doubt you two were a thing right? Deku-sensei and (hero name)!!

And just then, you confirmed it with simple kiss on his cheek.

"Bye, Izuku! Be nice to the kids, hm?"

"You know I always am!!"

As soon as the classroom door clicked, the class burst into awe.

"WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL US???"

[wysteria-bloom]

↪"you're lucky I...adore you."

Bg3 companions if they've been affected by succubus magic

Bg3 x bard!reader

Warnings : nothing that I can think of.

Genre : fluff, just pure fluff

A/n : still haven't finished this damn game and it's nearly been a year. You don't want to know how many hours I've spent on it I'm genuinely so disappointed in myself 🥲

▢ lae'zel

Gone was her usual stern demeanour, this woman was huffing and puffing to try and hold herself back. Her mouth pulled into a grimace as the words tumbled out of her mouth against her will.

"Tav.... your battle prowess is... most pleasing to witness..." Her eyes were hazy as she leaned down slightly to your level, brows pulled tightly together despite the contrasting words coming from her mouth," Were you a githyanki, I might even consider... taking you as a mate."

You just sort of blink at her, string pulled taught against your finger as you were trying to fix your violin. A slow smile made its way to your lips," ... you're certainly direct." You cooed out, brows raised suggestively as you look her up and down," I'm flattered, really, but perhaps you should save the mating proposals for when you're not under the influence of succubus magic, hm?"

The githyanki huffs, embarrassed but still utterly bewitched, her nostrils flare," usually... a gith would take offense at such a vehement rejection..." Her forehead presses against yours as she frowns deeply," You're lucky I... adore you." She gritted out with much difficulty.

"It was a spell. Nothing more. Forget it happened unless you want to see your innards splattered across the dirt you stand on."

You smirk, pressing your forehead back in response," Lucky, indeed~"

-

"My pretty lips are sealed, milady."

▢ shadowheart

She leans casually against a nearby tree, watching you with that adoring green gaze of hers that she tried to hide underneath her awkwardly mysterious aura.

She listens to the soft tunes you play with your lovely fingers, humming slightly and almost drunkenly," You know.... your music isn't the only thing enchanting about you."

These strangely uncharacteristic words made you pause in your playing, raising a brow up at her in surprise.

She, herself, didn't know what she was saying but she just couldn't stop herself as her lips twitched into a smirk," perhaps we should compose a duet of our own?"

The blatant flirting amused you to no end and a hand shot to your mouth to suppress a laugh," a duet?" You repeated," As memorable of a performance that would be, I think it best for you to sleep off whatever magical nonsense that succubus casted on you."

Shadowheart gave you an incredulous look and tried to play it off, shrugging with a pout," Oh no, this is... all me." She tried, but the words trembled," totally natural."

"... Let's never talk about this again."

"What a ball of charisma you are."

-

"I've already got a tune decided for our duet. No backing out now, little cleric~"

▢ gale

The wizard approaches his dearest bard with his usual theatric flair, but the lines falling from his smart mouth were far more dramatic than usual as he tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear," your beauty... it's like the stars themselves - unreachable, radiant, and yet somehow, you make even the Weave seem mundane in comparison."

Your hand removes itself from your instrument to pinch the bridge of your nose. Despite your exasperation, you couldn't hide your amusement," Gale... that succubus has broken you. You don't need to keep... weaving poetry to me."

"Ah, but for you, my dear, no spell is required for me to express my-"

You cover his mouth with your hand and you swear you see hearts in his eyes," mhmm, let's talk about something else, okay?"

"Ahem... I maintain that my delivery was impeccable, spell or no."

-

"Didn't make me swoon, however. Maybe you should give it another try."

▢ karlach

You pause in analysing what spells you had when a shadow fell upon you, making you look up slowly to see Karlach's wry grin shining down upon you like the rays of Lathander himself.

Her infernal engine was humming a lot louder than usual, her enthusiasm palpable," look at you, soldier! All studious n' shit." She cooed as she crouched down, but she still towered over you. Her head canted to the side, hair falling wildly along with her," You're hotter than the hellfire burnin' in my chest... and that's saying something."

You burst into laughter, shaking your head with a flush rising to your cheeks. Whether it was because of Karlach's heat or her words? You couldn't tell. You didn't care either.

"That might be the most intense compliment I've ever received... did the spell possessing you come up with a list of pickup lines to read off of? Or is this all just you?"

Karlach's eyes glinted with affection and amusement as she shrugged," all me, babe." She lied before catching herself, looking up at the sky to think,"... or.... uh, the spell." She tapped her chin in thought, brows furrowed," maybe both?"

"Don't hurt yourself, love."

"Tav, you have to admit, the hellfire thing was pretty fuckin' good!"

-

"True... I'd like to hear you say it without slurring your words, this time."

▢ wyll

His confident strides never faltered despite the magic clearly affecting him, his usual charming demeanour was cracked up to tenfold as he leaned forwards to you, a soft little smile spread to his lips.

"You know... your voice could tame a dragon, and your smile could slay a Devil." He took your hand into his, pressing a gentle kiss to the back of your hand," let me be your Knight, forever at your side."

You giggle, reaching out to put a hand on his shoulder and you had to ignore the flip of your heart when he instantly leaned into your touch," Wyll, that's sweet, but I think you're laying it on a little thick here, sweetheart." The pet name made his head buzz," I'm impressed, honestly... did the spell teach you how to swoon like a bard?"

His hand moved to your one resting on his shoulder and squeezed with purpose, brows furrowed with a lovesick grin curled to his lips," no spells required, my love."

You snort," sure, and my lute plays itself."

"I... apologise for whatever nonsense spewed from my mouth. I was merely playing the part, you understand-"

-

"Hmm... nonsense, was it? And I was so looking forwards to you being my Knight. A shame, really."

▢ astarion

A finger twirled your hair as you strummed your instrument absentmindedly, trying to come up with a catchy bar tune.

Astarion was staring hazily, his usual smirk had actually fallen as his crimson eyes glinted,"... did you know your blood smells sweeter than the finest wine?"

You give him a deadpan look, pausing in your strumming to look up at him which immediately prompted for his hand to move to your chin," Astarion... did the spell make you forget how incredibly creepy that sounds?" You grimace.

He blanched at you, a hand pressing to his heart rather dramatically but his eyes were still infatuated with your every crevice and cranny," creepy?? No, no it's a compliment, I'll have you know!" Then he frowned as he thought of his words and quickly added on a," in a vampiric sort of way..."

You snort and grabbed his wrist, rubbing your thumb up and down it gently," let's revisit this topic when you're not spellbound... or thinking about my blood."

"But it's such lovely blood, darling!" He whined only to be interrupted.

"Nope. We're done here."

"Well, I regret absolutely nothing."

-

"That's because the things you said weren't anything out of the ordinary you freak."

▢ halsin

The uncharacteristic sparkle in his eye is what made you pause as he approached with his usual gentle facial expression. He opened his mouth and you were enraptured with every word-

"I was missing you... and found a lily of the valley," he held out the flower cutely, the size of it compared to him made your heart clench. What a pure man he was," they truly remind me of you... delicate, radiant and captivating."

You reached out and gently took the flower from him, cradlingnit as your cheeks flush warmly," You adorable man." You then moved your hand and tucked a strand of his hair behind his ear, but before you could pull your hand away, he pressed it to his cheek," Halsin... this is lovely but I'd prefer if you did this whilst not being under the influence of a spell. It's turned you into a poet."

He hums, half-listening to you as he closed his eyes, trying to memorise the temperature and feeling of your hand," poet? Not quite... just a humble druid who's helplessly ensared by your otherworldly beauty."

You sigh and smile, shaking your head as you pinch his cheek, grin widening at the displeased groan that he emitted," helplessly ensared, hmm? Well, let's just hope this spell wears off before you start building me a shrine."

He seemed to lift his head at attention when you said that, moving your hand to his chest and pressing it against his beating heart. The serious look in his eyes sent a flutter through your entire body, his voice a low rumble as he leaned close to your face," would you prefer one of oak or stone?"

You grimace but your face was certainly burning," Oh no, it's definitely time for you to snap out of it."

-

"Tav... forgive me if my words earlier were... overzealous. It was the spell, of course, though they were not entirely untrue."

"Not entirely untrue, huh? I'll keep that in mind the next time you're waxing poetic about flowers and shrines."

▢ minthara

Minthara, usually composed and calculating, strides up to you with an intensity that borders on unsettling. However, her voice takes on an unusual softness that left you weak in the knees.

"I believe now is the chance for me to express this... you are a weapon forged by the gods themselves - sharp, striking and impossible to resist." Her deft fingers ran up and down your arms softly, soothingly, hypnotically," Were I to claim you..." Her eyelashes lowered," none would dare challenge us."

You could only blink with that shit eating grin you always took on when you irritate her," That's flattering, Minthara. But you should save this for when you're not enchanted."

Her voice lowered," I do not make declarations lightly, Tav. You belong at my side. Drenched in the blood of our enemies."

"Whoo... at your side, huh?" You liked the images she created," what, no throne or crown to sweeten the deal?"

God, the smirk that twitched to her lips was utterly mind boggling. You wished you could sew her mouth to permanently stay that way," Oh... there would be both. Gold and blood, in your honour."

You coughed out a reluctant," I'll pass for now, thanks."

-

"Whatever foolishness I said under the spell - forget it. I would not waste words on such sentimentality."

"Of course not, Minthara. The throne and crown offer was purely strategic, I'm sure."

[hoonieyun]

APT

APT

pairing: sim jaeyun x reader “y/n”

warnings: drinking, kissing, suggestive, overall 18+

genre: friends to lovers, down bad jake, college au

summary: a drinking game with jake leads to more than just shots

word count: 1337

notes: im not going to lie. this song has me in a chokehold. ive also just seen an insane amount of jake edits with this song that i couldn't help but write something LOL anyways as always the lyrics used in this are from "apt" by rosie and bruno mars and all the credit goes to them for this amazing song! (not proofread but who cares not me!)

apateu, apateu, apateu

apateu, apateu, apateu

“six!” jake yells and the two of you begin to stack your hands over one another’s until you reach the 6th hand, yours. “no way! you totally did that on purpose!” you say, shooting jake a glare with a pout; knowing that he was very inclined in math so he probably figured out what number he needed to say to get you to be the one to take the shot. 

“no! i swear!” jake says, smiling at you while throwing his hands up in surrender, his accent thick as ever. you wince at the taste of the alcohol as you take the shot, the small shot glass making a clinking sound as you set it back down on jake’s bedroom floor. 

the two of you were currently sat across from one another in crissedcross position as you played a korean drinking game. one you and jake used to play at the beginning of college whenever the two of you would gather with your friends and drink over the weekend. today, however, was just and jake. it was originally going to be a lot more of you but when you arrived jake told you that everyone ended up cancelling and when you said that you should head home and study instead of drink, jake convinced you to stay. 

you were now about 5 shots in while jake had only taken 2. “that’s not fair, i’ve drank way more than you have.” you complain to jake, a pout still on your face as you refill the shot glass. the scent of the clear liquor finding its way to your noses. 

jake watched you adoringly as you poured the shot, your bottom lip still jutting out, instinctively; he bites down on his own bottom lip as he watches you. “okay, ready?” you ask as you screw the cap back onto the soju bottle and jake nods. a smile on his face as he watches you brush your hair away back, giving him a clear view of your collarbone and neck, now a slight shade of pink because of how much you had drank. 

red hearts red hearts

that’s what i'm on yeah

you and jake once again start the game, repeating the singular word 6 times but now it was your turn to yell out a number. 

“9!” you shout and one by one, you and jake place your hands over one another’s until you reach the number nine. luckily, this time it was jake’s hand, meaning he had to take the shot. you laugh at jake, happy that he finally lost and would take a shot, he smiles at your reaction and picks up the shot glass, bringing it closer to his lips. just as he’s about to take the shot, he stops. 

“y/n, can i tell you something?” he asks and your mouth falls open. “yeah. AFTER you take the shot. you’re not getting out of this one.” you say, bringing your hand up to his and motioning his hand towards his mouth, drinking the shot. small droplets of the soju leak onto your hand and out of jake’s mouth and instictively, you wipe the soju off of his lips. you blink at him a few times after you realize what you just did and jake swore he saw fireworks and sparks fly just from that small gesture. 

“um, okay. here let me fill it up again.” you say, grabbing the shot glass from his hand to refill just so you could move on from the awkward interaction. “wait!” jake says, grabbing your wrist, causing you to look up at him. his eyes shimmering in the light like it held the universe in them. you weren’t sure if it was you or the alcohol but you hadn’t fully realized how handsome jake was, especially tonight. his cheeks slightly red and his hair wasn’t styled but still fell so effortlessly well across his forehead. 

jake on the other hand, hasn’t stopped thinking about how pretty you looked since you walked into his apartment. your hair was tucked behind your ear and you wore that lip gloss that he secretly liked on you. it left your lips looking so pink and plump and he couldn’t help but think of what they tasted like. the lips… not the gloss. 

your lips were a bit bare, the gloss having worn off every time you took a shot, but he couldn’t stop thinking about how soft they still looked. like pillowy clouds.

the two of you were just staring at one another and it happened in a blink of an eye. jake was leaning over to you, softly cupping your face, and bringing you closer to his face. “can i kiss you?” he asks, voice low as he looks down at your lips. you slowly nod, thinking to yourself that jake’s lips have never been more tempting. “use your words, please.” jake says and once again, you nod followed by a soft yes. as soon as the 3 letter word leaves your lips, his are on yours. 

don’t you want me like i want you, baby?

don’t you want me like i need you, baby?

when you and jake pull away from the kiss, although short, it felt like it was a moment that was just waiting to happen. jake pulls away and his eyes slowly flutter open and he sees you, looking up at him with doe eyes, mouth still slightly open. 

“was that ok?” jake says sheepishly. “more than okay.” you say, a smile on your face as jake takes a seat back down. your thumb flies over your mouth as it graves over your lip. you glance over at jake and he’s leaning back on his hands, a smirk on his face. “what are you smiling at?” you ask, teasingly. 

the smile on jake’s lips grow wider as you ask the question. “nothing, i’ve just been waiting to do that for a while now.” he confesses, a surprise to you because your feelings for jake have always been surpress, fearing that it would ruin your friendship and of those around you. 

you slowly stand back up and jake watches your figure make your way over to his spot on the floor. you take a seat on his lap, a bold action that without the alcohol, is something you would’ve never had the courage to do. jake accepts your gesture, tightening his body so that he could carry you on his lap, otherwise; he would’ve melted right into you. wrapping your arms loosely around his neck, you play with his hair a bit, before you say anything. 

“what took you so long then?” you ask and jake could’ve sworn that he could feel his heart beating out of his chest. he’s never felt this around a girl before and quite frankly he hopes that he’ll never feel it with any other girl but you. you lean down and give jake another kiss but to his disdain, the kiss was too short so shifts his weight forward, grabbing your waist with one of his arms as he brings you back closer. connecting your lips once again, this time the kiss is more intense. a type of passion that you had never experienced with any of your previous lovers and hookups. 

a type of feeling that only jake could give you. 

after what felt like you two were kissing for eternity, the two of you pull away to catch your breath. you stare at one another, both of your lips a bit swollen as you try to steady your breathing. suddenly, jake leans forward, grabbing the bottle of soju and pouring another shot. his arm, still wrapped around your waist, holding you steady as he pours the shot. he hands you the small glass as he takes the bottle of the soju for himself. 

“geonbae.” jake says as he takes the shot. you chuckle, finding him cute whenever he says korean words with his australian accent.

-

copyright 2024 - present © hoonieyun all rights reserved

all writing here is fiction & not in any association with characters mentioned.

[saltofmercury]

Sentimental

Pairing: Jason Todd x f!reader

Author's note: Writing feels so good!!! I'm so happy to be writing again :)

Summary: Jason holds onto things that make him emotional. That doesn’t make him emotional.

*

Jason Todd would never call himself emotional.

He prefers the term sentimental. Sentimental is what surrounds the items in his trinket box. There’s not many items inside —some personal information mostly. A death certificate, a watch, and more recently items from you. A scrunchie, a broken keychain, and notes.

He had noticed the bracelets, gold and silver trinkets decorating your arm, then something not as shiny, the weird black ribbon scrunchie. The scrunchie you never gave it to him.

He watched as you pushed your hair back, your hands guiding the elastic weaving through your hair, sitting on top of your head.

What was left was the red indent on your wrist. You seemed to pay no attention to it, but he did not like the idea of something leaving a mark on you. Red and indented. The angry mark kept being shown, often closed off by your other bracelets.

“Does this hurt?” He asked you later at night wondering how it hadn’t gone down since the afternoon. 

“No, I get these all the time.” You say, carefully gauging his reaction.

“But I don’t like the impression it leaves you with.” He scowled, rubbing his thumb along the indent. 

Impressed by the mark it did leave—He took the scrunchie the next day, wearing it for a total of five hours. He had come back to the apartment you two shared, showing you the indent of his own. Now he keeps your scrunchie on his arm, willing to hold it for you. You never really take it back though, you just let him hold onto it. Seeing how he fidgets and snaps it on his own. He doesn’t give it back either.

Sentimental over the keychain you bought him for the key to your apartment. A big step in your relationship, where he had been earning your trust, giving you space, waiting for you to take the next step — you just wanted some peace of mind from him entering through the balcony window.

It had been a small joke between you guys about how you wish you had a pocket sized “him” so you could tell him at any moment anything that happened during your work day.

It prompted the idea to make him into a Lego.

You carefully selected the top, bottom, and head, and even added a red cap on top as an inside joke for his mask.

Jason could hardly respond. It leaves him tongue tied at the little figurine placed in his hand. Your smile beaming at him, then, expressionless when he doesn’t say anything. 

“You don’t like it?” You pout, hoping you didn’t cause offense.

He stares back at you intensely, suddenly breathless.

“I love it.”

He does wish he were more careful with it. After falling from a two story building, he had landed on it causing the little figurine to crack into multiple pieces. He would have taken a dislocated shoulder over the broken keychain.

“You fell on it?” you ask, seeing it cracked in multiple pieces in your hands.

“The guy snuck up on me and kicked me off the ledge.”

“And you fell … on it? Didn’t that hurt?” You peer up from your hands concerned he’s not fused with any other Lego pieces on his leg.

He tries to glue it back together, seeing the irony in himself in the Lego pieces. It frustrates him, he places it in a bag and puts it away in the box. He just starts to keep the key around his neck. The next day he gets surprised by the different figurine.

“Don’t land on this one ok?” You smile up at him.

Sentimental over every note you’ve ever written him— which causes his small box to overflow with colors of

“I’ll be back with dinner”

“went to the market” 

“Ice cream in the freezer!”

And all the “I love you’s see you later”

Scribbled in your writing on blue, white, pink, and yellow scraps of paper, post-its, and notepads. 

What seemed like a small note was a reminder to him that someone does come back for him. 

Someone is there for him.

So no, Jason Todd isn’t emotional. He’s just sentimental.

[itsclydebitches]

Just finished Good Omens 2 and I'm honestly boggling at the Aziraphale hate because yes, his decision led to the angsty cliffhanger, but it makes SO much sense for his character. Not just in a "Religious brainwashing and sunk-cost fallacy" kinda way but also a "Aziraphale has no reason to believe this isn't the perfect solution" way. That scene among the nebula is crucial because it establishes that Crowley loved being an angel—reveled in his ability to create and allow his creations to grow kinda like plants—and the only problem was that someone else was calling the shots, someone who wouldn't listen to his criticism. Aziraphale has also spent 6,000+ years watching Crowley do good, all the while forced to deny the fact that he's "nice" lest embracing his original nature get him into trouble with hell. Now, Metatron comes along with an offer that fixes everything in one fell swoop. Crowley can be an angel again, be nice without censure, his ideas and criticisms will hold weight because he'll be answering to Aziraphale, and they'll be together.

It strikes me that Aziraphale isn't there when Crowley sees Gabriel's trial, ergo he likewise doesn't see the (non)acknowledgement that there's an institutional problem up in Heaven. There just happen to have been two archangels who called it quits. Same when Gabriel blurts that phrase out to Crowley. Aziraphale has always been more blind to the ways in which Heaven is "toxic" (for very understandable reasons) and this season he's continually sheltered from new evidence of its structural problems. The plot just preaches to the choir: Crowley. He likewise wouldn't see the conflict Gabriel and Beelzebub have caused as evidence of an underlying problem because that's a problem he and Crowley will no longer share. Why would they be worried about Heaven still being unable to accept partnerships between angels and demons when Crowley will no longer be a demon? And that's something he presumably wants based on Aziraphale's memories of him and the ongoing admission that he's lonely.

The way I see it, they got what they thought they wanted at the start of Season 2. Heaven and Hell are keeping an eye on them, but functionally they're left alone. Crowley can spend all the time he wants with Aziraphale and nothing comes of that except that they're both continually named traitors and the higher-ups grumble about it. If Gabriel had never shown up, things should have been perfect based on Crowley's "Let's just run away and have each other's company" standards. Better, even, considering that they get to be together on their beloved Earth, rather than being bored out in Alpha Centauri without any sushi, plants, books, or Bentleys. And yet... Crowley doesn't strike me as particularly happy. Because, you know, based on that kiss he wants to be with Aziraphale, not just literally be with him, but the point of this post is that his "Let's run away and be an 'us'" falls totally flat when he doesn't explain that specific desire to Aziraphale; the desire to change what an 'us' means. From Aziraphale's perspective they're already an 'us.' That was the entire point of "our side" in Season 1 and now they can continue to be 'us' up in Heaven. Plus, Aziraphale likely sees this as a sacrifice on his part. He will give up his bookshop, his Earthly indulgences, take on the responsibilities of leadership (which I don't think he actually wants for a variety of reasons), and spend the rest of eternity in a place where he's felt so small because he thinks that's what Crowley wants. Crowley was happy as an angel. Crowley wanted them to be together without risk of permanent discorporation. They were able to achieve that after not-Armageddon and he still wasn't happy... so surely those two things together will do the trick. Crowley never actually articulates how he wants their relationship to change and the kiss comes much too late, when he's already rejected what Aziraphale must see as a perfect, selfless solution he's secured for them. Even if Crowley wasn't always moving too fast for him, an overture of romance isn't going to go well after that.

Is this crushing and angsty and devastating as a hiatus? Damn straight, my heart it breaking. But it's a good setup. More importantly, it makes perfect sense for their characters, particularly when they're still talking past one another. Aziraphale is someone who has always moved more slowly as a matter of course, as an angel he has remained immersed in the rhetoric of Heaven, his main avenue of breaking free of that (Crowley) has a huge communication problem (to say nothing of his own denial. He only made headway with the help of Nina and Maggie, seconds before Aziraphale shows up), and Metatron (in a no doubt incredibly manipulative manner) has just offered Aziraphale a job that presumably makes him happy AND Crowley happy AND allows him to maintain the moral this-is-how-the-universe-works perspective he's had since he was literally created. Of course he's going to say yes to all that!! And sure, there are problems in Heaven, Aziraphale isn't completely blind, but he can fix them now that he's in charge. How? Well... he'll figure that out later! Kinda like how he's been making plans on the fly this entire season. That seems logical from his perspective, right? It's not like he's gotten a crash-course in the concept of the master's tools never being able to dismantle the master's house...

[midnightwriter21]

demon slayer hcs: hashira men w/ a tiny SO

characters: fem!reader x tengen, sanemi, rengoku

warning: suggestive content

AN: i’m writing this from the pov of someone that’s short af. like 4’11 (cause that’s how tall i am lol) enjoy~

TENGEN

god he’s so hot

let’s get straight into the gross shit huh?

i just KNOW

that this man is NASTY

size kink size kink size kinkkkkkkk

dawg is huge

his one hand can almost wrap around ur entire waist

manhandles u all over the place

yes please

anyways now that we’re done with that-

he will make fun of u

juuuusssstttt a little bit

but its all fun and games

will never take it too far

takes things out of your hands just to hold them over his head

likes to see u jump to reach it

high five?

his hand is all the way up

arm straight

high five him in the face if u get fed up

won't hurt him anyways

he'll prob think its funny

will also do that shit where he looks right over ur head and is like "has any one seen y/n?"

carries u around

u don't remember what it feels like to have ur feet on the ground at this point

he’s doing push-ups?

sit on his back

100% will bench press you for fun

you’ll be walking past him

you blink and all of a sudden ur in the air

calls u stupid corny nicknames like “short stack”

SANEMI

now this man

his ego is through the roof

size kink?

uh yeah

will tease the hell out of u

putting stuff on the top shelves so u can't reach

and don't think he's gonna give in and help u

oh no he likes to watch u struggle

now i think sanemi LOVES a fiery woman

but give him a lil too much attitude?

he's throwing u over his shoulder and walking off

and he's gonna remedy that situation dw

remember i said size kink?

he's about to remind you just how much bigger than you he really is

will RUIN u

protective!!

doesn't matter if ur a slayer or not

still not as strong as him

and to sanemi

smaller=more breakable

now don't get it twisted

dude does NOT think ur weak

cmon you really think the mf Wind Pillar would be with someone totally weak?

absolutely not

again. u don’t have to be a slayer

there are different types of strength bae

he's just gonna keep an extra close eye on you thats all

RENGOKU

i am so soft for him

literal sweetheart

can't reach something?

kyojuro is already handing it to you

or picking u up so u can reach it

he's not gonna tease you about your height

he's the one showering you in complements

telling you how you're perfect the way you are

never wants you to feel annoyed or insecure about your size

he's a lil more protective too

don't get caught climbing the countertops to reach something

cause he's pulling u down with a

"honey that's dangerous! what if you fell and hit your head?"

like kyo

baby boy

u realize i had a life before i met you right?

ur a professional countertop climber at this point but he does not care

don't do it again

also he's teaching you to fight if u don't alrdy know how

just in case he's not there to protect you one day

best teacher 10/10

won't bend down to kiss u tho

he likes that you have to get on ur tiptoes and balance urself against him to reach his lips

thinks its cute

he's so boyfriend

[avatar-anna]

This is another tattoo artist! Harry x ballerina! Reader, but at the beginning of their relationship. You can find the first blurb here

"When can I see you again?"

Your cheeks betrayed your cool demeanor, something they'd been doing all evening. You wanted to appear not as nervous or giddy as you felt going on this date, as if you frequently went out with handsome, muscly tattoo artists. Was that the case? Heavens, no, but you didn't want to look like a deer in headlights all night, and the way Harry's eyes devoured you, the way his lips kept finding your neck or cheek, wasn't helping.

"I—I'm busy all w—week. Training."

Harry hadn't let up his ministrations on your jaw, making it ten times harder to speak to him than it already was. But that last little corner of your brain that wasn't totally consumed by him wiggled its way to the front, reminding you of your responsibilities.

"Mm. What about after?"

"After?"

You felt him smile against your skin, his knuckle grazing the side of your face. "Surely you won't be rehearsing all night. What time are you normally done?"

"Um...six, but I usually go to bed pretty early."

"Gee, bunny, you're making me think you don't want to see me again. Breakin' my heart here."

"I do!" you hurried to say, perhaps a little too quickly. But it made Harry smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling. "I—I do. Want to see you."

"Tell you what," he said, leaning one hand on the door at your back, just above your head. "I'll pick you up from rehearsal and bring you home. How's that sound?"

"That's it?" you asked, intrigued by the suggestion. Your intention wasn't to be difficult on purpose, but you had a tight schedule as a dancer at a prestigious ballet company. You didn't date much because of it, most guys not considering you worth the trouble, but Harry had been persistent. You admired that about him, and it made you like him all the more.

"That's it," Harry promised, a mischievous look in his eyes. "Unless of course, you invite me inside your apartment and let me spend the whole evening taking good care of you, but I'll settle for a walk to your apartment."

He was so sure of himself, but in a way that was charming, not off-putting. He was all the time, to the point where you thought it was an act at first, which was why you initially said no when he first asked you out. But you came to realize that was just who Harry was—charming, easygoing, confident as all hell. You found it attractive now, though sometimes it made you feel like you were even more anxious than you actually were.

"It's a date."

Smiling, Harry kissed you long and hard one last time before stepping away. "Try not to think about me too much while I'm gone. Can't have you falling out of a turn and hurting yourself before I can take you out again properly, hm?"

You swooned as he walked away, leaning fully against your front door unashamed as you watched him get on his bike. He'd left it here while you walked to a restaurant a couple blocks away. The engine roared to life as Harry hit his foot against the kickstand, winking at you before driving off.

You should've invited him in, you thought as you finally turned around to unlock your door. But another part of you applauded your restraint. It was too new, your plate too full, to jump too quickly into something you weren't sure you were ready for. Slow and steady, you'd promised yourself when you first agreed to a date with Harry.

Still, when you went to bed alone that night, you couldn't help but think about his teasing about you caving and letting him inside tomorrow, and how nice it would've felt to have been tucked into his side as you fell asleep.

*.*

a couple weeks later

"Who is that?"

Your head whipped up from your phone, following your friend's line of vision. Immediately your cheeks flushed, the view nearly overwhelming you.

Harry leaned against the side of the building you emerged out of, one leg propped against it as he lit a cigarette, you narrowed your eyes a little at the smoke he puffed out, but couldn't help but admit the inherent sexiness he exuded from performing such a simple action. His tattoos were on full display, peeking out beneath his shirtsleeves and up his neck. Such a tough exterior for someone who was actually quite charming and soft.

"I don't know, but I want to."

You looked over to where your two friends were standing, drinking Harry in as he blew out smoke through his nose. Their gazes stirred something uncomfortable in you, a possessiveness over Harry that you'd never felt for anyone before.

"He's my ride," you said, even though you and Harry always walked home together. You'd casually mentioned walking by yourself or taking the bus once, and Harry had been appalled by the revelation. He'd been waiting for you after each rehearsal and class ever since.

"Oh. I didn't know you had a brother, Y/n," your friend, still eyeing Harry.

"He's not my brother. He's my boyfriend."

"He is?"

Ignoring their incredulity, you hiked your bag higher up on your shoulder. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Harry's head raised to look at you as you approached, a small smile forming on his lips as you drew near. "Bunny," he murmured before reaching for your hand and pulling you to his chest.

"Hi," you said a little breathless.

He took his time kissing you, one hand cupping the side of your face and the other on your waist but inching south where it would be a little inappropriate out in public. You pulled away, cheeks flushed for a multitude of reasons as Harry grinned at you and took your bag and slung it over his shoulder before starting on the walk back to your apartment. Sighing dreamily at him, you let him grab your hand and pull you along.

"Were you talking about me over there?" he asked, nodding behind him to where your friends were still standing.

"No—Yes," you admitted. "They think you're cute."

Harry's brows raised as if that was the last thing he expected to hear, as if he didn't know women didn't ogle him regularly.

"Really," he said as he began to walk down the sidewalk, your hand in his. "So you told them we were seeing each other?"

Your whole career was nearly solely based on your ability to be graceful, to appear weightless as you leapt through the air or stretched your leg high above your head as you balanced on the other. Yet when Harry asked that question, you stumbled. Enough that Harry placed a cautious hand on your elbow. You didn't expect him to hear what you had said to your friends, let alone question it. You'd not been seeing each other long in the grand scheme of things, so perhaps your statement was a little presumptive. But you didn't want your friends to think he was available, either. Now you worried Harry still believed he was.

"I know we haven't been seeing each other very long, but I didn't want them to get the wrong idea. I'm sorry if I've made things—"

"Relax, bunny, I'm only teasing," he said, leaning down slightly to press his lips to your burning cheek, nudging you with his nose once before pulling away. "But I like the idea of you being possessive of me. It's cute."

This was not how you wanted to have the "What are we?" conversation, but apparently it was happening. "I...I like you a lot. Like I said, I know it hasn't been long and our schedules are crazy, but I—I like you, and I feel like you should know that even if I could I wouldn't be seeing anyone else."

You purposely kept your eyes forward, not wanting to see Harry's expression as he took in what you said. He'd been nothing but a gentleman since you met him, but you also wouldn't be surprised if he was the kind of guy that liked to explore his options.

Harry didn't say anything for a minute, making you more and more anxious with each step you took. Maybe you should've waited until you were closer to your apartment. That way if he didn't reciprocate your feelings you could quickly hide and die from embarrassment alone.

Before you could tell him to forget it, Harry finally spoke. "You know I couldn't stop thinking about you after the first time I saw you?"

Your head whipped to meet his gaze, eyes wide. A faint blush dusted Harry's cheeks, something you'd never seen before. He'd been cool, calm, and collected since you'd known him, never once showing an ounce of nerves. Now he looked almost bashful as he walked beside you.

"Really?"

Harry briefly covered his smile with his free hand. "Really. I was crushed when you said no the first time I asked you out. And since you've said yes I've been trying so hard to impress you and be the kind of guy you'd normally be interested in. Shit, the guys at the shop give me hell because I wear shirts with less holes in them and walk with you everywhere because I know how you feel about riding on my bike and sometimes I stare at the clock or my phone like an idiot until I can pack up and finally see you. I've even been smoking less because I know you don't like it."

You didn't know any of that, but how could you? You smiled a little at the idea of Harry's friends teasing him, imagining him stressing about what to wear or what to say before a date the way you did.

"Harry, I—I don't want you to try to be anyone else," you said. "I mean, the smoking is a terrible habit and you should absolutely quit, but that's besides the point. I like you already. I liked you before you started buttoning your shirts more, and the motorcycle, while dangerous, is really sexy."

Harry's responding grin was immediate. "Sexy, you say?"

You scoffed. "Shut up. I've seen the way you look at me while I stretch."

"It's because you give me so many ideas when you do," he said. "So many ideas, bunny."

Your entire body warmed, the suggestion in Harry's tone impossible to ignore. You hadn't slept together yet, though not because neither of you wanted to. You liked to be sure about a guy before taking that step, and Harry had been understanding and waited for you. After everything you talked about on the walk to your apartment, you wanted nothing more than to pull him inside with you.

Neither of you spoke for the short remainder of the walk, but Harry's arm eventually draped over your shoulder and you were tucked into his side. His hand played with the ends of your hair, distracting you while you tried to decide whether or not to throw caution to the wind and let him into your apartment.

When your apartment finally came into view, you snuck a hand beneath Harry's shirt, running your hands along the solid planes of his stomach casually. "About those ideas..."

"I know, I'm sorry I brought that up when I'm just dropping you off. We'll have to—"

"I have ideas too," you said, trying your hardest to keep your voice even as you took the final steps to your door. Untangling yourself from Harry, you fished in your bags for your keys. "Maybe...Maybe you can come inside and I can show you?"

Harry's eyes widened, clearly not anticipating the direction of the conversation. "Are you sure? I know you have to be up early and have a whole routine and everything."

He was too sweet. You could tell by the look in his eyes that he wanted to do nothing more than to join you but was respectful enough of your space to walk away. But you knew what you wanted.

"You can be part of my routine," you said. Unlocking the door, you turned to face him. Your hands shook a little, but your voice was clear, if not hushed despite being alone, as you said, "You can help me stretch and relax before bed. Don't you want to help me, daddy?"

It was a bold choice, letting that little vulnerability slip. Very few knew about your...preference for a certain moniker, and you'd never brought it up to partners in the past. But this was Harry, who you liked so much and trusted even more. You wanted to share that side of you, even if it made your cheeks flame to say it before you were safe within the confines of your apartment. but you figured you'd revealed so much already, what was one more thing? At least that was what you kept telling yourself.

And guessing by Harry's reaction, it paid off.

"Yea—Yeah. Course, bunny," he said after swallowing. "How do you normally start?"

You grinned. "I like to take a shower. Or a bath, depending on my mood."

Harry picked you up by your waist, causing you to squeal. His lips didn't leave your neck as he asked, "Which one is big enough for two?"

"I barely fit in my bathtub," you giggled against the vibrations from his voice and the giddiness you felt at being held in Harry's arms.

"Shower it is then," he said, kicking the front door shut behind him and locking it quickly. "I'm gonna need to hear that at least three more times tonight. At least."

You began kissing Harry's neck instead of answering, still a little embarrassed that you'd said it at all. Harry seemed thrilled, and part of you was thrilled that it all worked out in the end, but it would take more coaxing than that before you worked up the confidence to call him "daddy" again.

"Don't be shy, bunny," Harry teased. "I'm proud of you for being so forward. Think my good girl deserves a reward, hm?"

You could only whimper with anticipation as Harry deposited you on the limited surface of your bathroom counter. As he shrugged out of his shirt, then his socks and shoes, then his jeans, revealing his body little by little in all its tattooed glory, you couldn't help but feel as though life couldn't get any better than this.

[p3sephone]

My baby. (Dark! Ex! Wanda Maximoff x reader)

Prologue

Summary: you are Wanda's ex and you broke up with her a long time ago. Then Wanda decides it's a good idea to become your neighbor and take her baby back, one way or another.

Warnings: this is a dark! Serie about Wanda Maximoff that will contain dark themes such as violence, breaking in, non-con and similar stuff in the future chapters. Every chapter will have its own warnings to be safe. This is pure fiction and this character does not belong to me. Minors are NOT allowed, only +18. Any kind of interactions such as reblogs, comments or likes are much welcome and appreciated. 🤎

Prologue warnings: breaking inside, little use of magic.

Masterlist serie.

"I'm home!" you exclaimed with a smile on your face, closing the door behind you. You were happy to be back, you had a wonderful surprise for your roommate. You were sure that she hadn't suspected anything, after all you hadn't mentioned anything in these weeks and you knew how difficult it was. You had lost count of how many gifts and surprises you had ruined because you often spoke before thinking out of excitement.

But this time you didn't think, as you walked briskly towards the living room. The lights were on, she was surely sitting there on the couch watching some movie. You were already anticipating the scene. Your smile quickly dropped as the gift bag slipped from your hand and fell to the floor. The personalized mug inside had surely broken into a thousand pieces, but that was now the least of your problems.

Your roommate was lying there, apparently asleep, but you knew that wasn't the case. Not when Wanda was sitting on the other side of the couch with her arms crossed, then looking straight into your eyes. She had a small smile on her face, sly and arrogant you would say, but you could see all the hatred hidden behind her eyes. You were together, as teenagers, a long time ago. Wanda had lost everything, you too: you had regained everything and left Wanda behind, and Wanda had lost what was left of her, left with total nothingness. Considering that you had left her too. Or at least, that was what Wanda thought; in reality, your version would have been very different from hers, but you weren't really sure she wanted to hear it and even less that she was interested. "What are you doing in my house?" your own cold tone surprised you. It was as if someone else was talking to you and you didn't know how your knees could still hold up. But Wanda wasn't stupid, she could feel how your heart was beating like crazy, this still allowed her to act arrogant. She stood up from your couch and walked over to your boyfriend’s sleeping form, approaching you and freely ignoring your question.

“Is this your house? Our apartment was better.” It was a suggestion, obviously. It wasn’t the first time Wanda had tried to make you change your mind and tell you that the two of you were meant to be together, and at first you believed it. The first, the second and even the third time. Then you finally realized that she would tell you anything and lie shamelessly just to have you back by her side and reduce you to an object again.

You had loved that woman, but it was over. And she had to understand that.

“No, this house is better, with my roommate who I sincerely hope will wake up soon.” You made a suggestion and she immediately took it, laughing in your face.

“She’ll be fine, I just put her to sleep... I wanted to be alone with you, I missed you.” she said playing with your hair, and you could almost see the sincerity in her now slightly sad face. But you couldn't fall for it again and you had certainly been through too much because of her.

"But I haven't missed you, Wanda. Get out of my house."

You had caught her attention now, her fingers slowly stopped playing with your hair finally letting it go. Now you saw the real Wanda. Her hateful gaze with a red aura was intensely scrutinizing you and you swore they could see much more than your eyes or your face. Her eyes immediately became clear again and Wanda gave you a sweet smile, waving her right hand and using her magic. You remembered what that magic had done to you, you still had the scars.

"I can also go out, after all we will see each other every day. It's a pleasure to meet you again, neighbor!" she teased you giggling, then walking out of your door without you even accompanying her. You stood there in shock, standing numb in the doorway to the living room, watching the front door close and then the couch, where your roommate was now starting to wake up.

The nightmare had begun again.

[shnoob]

Sal Fisher HC’s!:  

I normally wouldn't write something like this, BUT I love Sally Face and it NEEDSSSS more recognition 🙏🙏🙏  

(I'm totally not in love with him or something. WHAT WHO SAID THAT??)

 I feel like he would be one of those types of people who carry lotion, hand sanitizer, tissues etc due to him taking good care of his skin/body. Due to what has happened to him, any little germ can get under his skin which is not a good thing :P 

That being said, he would get bad allergic reactions to scented lotions so he’d stick with the typical scents. (However, if it's a scent he really likes..he won't mind getting a rash for once, he already has a prosthetic..) 

SOOOOO good at comforting people. Even if you just met him, he may be a bit awkward but he won't just let you sit there and cry. Possibly just reach in his bag and hand over a tissue while staring at you. 

Again, just carries EVERYTHING. That doesn't mean his bag is full! Due to Ashley, Larry, and even Todd he has random ass items in his bag until they ask if he knows where it is. (Even offering his space to carry your stuff too!) 

“Hey Sal, have you seen *blank*?” “Oh uh..*rummages through his pockets* this?” “Thanks man!” 

The type of guy to try and cuff his jeans but they always end up uneven so they either are uneven or not cuffed. (The stains man..)

Lets Ashley paint his nails. Can't tell me otherwise. Usually Black, Red or a blue similar to his hair. Probably matched with the gang at one point due to Ashley begging them. 

Has calluses on his hands due to guitar playing. 

First off, such a good listener to everybody. He could sit there for hours listening to you and comfort you if you felt like you were talking too much. That being said, if you mention you like ANYTHING (such as a candy) you know he will start carrying it just in case you wanted it or had a rough day. 

If he sees a bug or rock he likes, you know its going into a collection. Started collecting rocks in about 7th grade and hasnt stopped since. It probably started just in a box and now has a small display on a nightstand. Bugs he obviously cannot keep in a condition like that so he may just carry it around for a bit on a finger until they are in a place where they are safe. (Maybe even to scare Larry with). 

Is probably used to most jokes that could be considered “too far” or “rude” now due to the insults he's experienced of his prosthetic, but if it ever crosses a line by touching it or even towards a friend…watch out.  

With that, he probably makes dark humor jokes.  

When he's nervous, he probably scratches the sides of his hands or picks at his nails. (They never stood a chance) 

MAN NEEDS NEW SHOES THEY ARE RIPPING APART. SOMEBODY PLEASE 

He jokes around so much with his friends of “bromance” (like fake kissing, lovey terms etc) to the point he has had a rumor or two with his friends.

Cannot do gymnastics tricks well. He probably tried a handstand once to prove to Larry and fell right over. Ash most likely teaches him over time so he gets..better? 

I bet he reads a little! When he isn't ghost hunting or needs a break playing the guitar, he will pick up a book for fun. (Maybe even reads to Gizmo once in awhile) 

[marysfics]

Gotta Learn 'Em All

Your six year old daughter has an obsession with Pokémon.

Note: based on a TikTok that I watched but can't find anymore.

Fluff, pure fluff

It was a bright Saturday morning, and the sun streamed through the open windows, casting a warm glow over the living room. You were busy in the kitchen, preparing breakfast, while the sounds of excited chatter and laughter floated in from the other room. Your daughter had summoned her favorite toy, a giant box overflowing with Pokémon cards, and today was a special day: she was determined to teach your wife all about them.

“¡Mamá! Come here!” your daughter’s voice rang out, filled with excitement and urgency.

Alexia walked in, her brow furrowed in curiosity. “Qué es?, amor” she asked, glancing around to see the chaotic spread of cards scattered all over the floor.

“Today, we’re learning Pokémon!” your daughter declared, her hands flying up in the air like she was announcing a grand event. “necesitas conocerlos todos!”

Alexia chuckled, settling down on the floor across from her. “Todas ellas? That sounds… ambitious. I thought there were, like, a few?”

Your daughter shook her head vigorously, her pigtails bouncing with the motion. “There are hundreds! But we can start with the best ones. Okay, mira esto!” She grabbed a card, holding it up with both tiny hands. It featured a small, green creature with a large leaf on its head.

“Alright, what have we got here?” Alexia leaned in, squinting at the card. “Is it… Leafy?”

“Close! It’s called Bulbasaur!” your daughter exclaimed, giggling at her mother's confusion. “You can do better!”

Alexia put her hands on her hips, mock-defensively. “Hey! I’m trying my best! How do you remember all of these names?”

“Simplemente lo hago!” your daughter said, a sense of pride bubbling up in her voice. “Okay, next one!” She flipped through the deck like a professional dealer, finally landing on a card that depicted a cute, orange lizard-like creature with a fiery tail. “This one’s super famous! Who’s this, mamá?”

“Hmm… uh… Flamethrower?” Alexia guessed, a playful smirk creeping across her face.

Your daughter groaned, throwing her head back dramatically. “Nooo! It’s Charmander! You’re not even trying!”

“I swear, I’m trying!” Alexia laughed, the sound light and infectious. “It’s just… I don’t think I’ve ever seen a Pokémon episode in my life.”

You peeked into the living room from the kitchen, watching the two interact. The sight of your wife, normally so composed and fierce on the pitch, completely flummoxed by cartoon creatures, warmed your heart. You took a moment to appreciate how Alexia was wholeheartedly diving into this. Making the effort for your daughter, who is obsessed with Pokémon at her six year old age.

“Okay, okay, I can do this!” Alexia said, determined. “Dame otra oportunidad!”

Your daughter grinned, shuffling through her cards again. “This one’s easy!” She presented a card showing a round, blue creature with fins. “Quién es este?”

Alexia studied the card closely, her brow furrowed in concentration. “Uh… Watermelon Fish?”

Your daughter couldn’t contain her laughter. “No, mamá! It’s Squirtle!”

“Squirtle!” Alexia repeated, trying to mimic your daughter’s enthusiasm. “I can totally see it now. Watermelon Fish is much cuter, though.”

“Mamá, that’s not how it works!” your daughter giggled, clearly having the time of her life.

“Okay, okay! Let me think,” Alexia said, feigning seriousness. “I can get the next one. I promise!”

Your daughter eagerly dug through her pile again, finally pulling out a card featuring a large, dragon-like creature with wings and fiery breath. “This one is really cool! Who’s this?”

Alexia’s eyes widened in recognition. “I know this one! It’s… FireDragon!”

Your daughter fell onto her back in laughter, her giggles filling the room. “Close! But it’s actually Charizard!”

“I was so close!” Alexia protested playfully, raising her arms in mock defeat. “This is harder than I thought! What about… uh… Super Dragon?”

“Charizard is a super dragon!” your daughter replied, raising her brows as if to say, Duh! “Mamá, you’re doing good!”

Alexia sighed, leaning back on her hands. “Thanks, but I’m going to need a lot of practice. Maybe I should watch some episodes with you later?”

“Yesss! We can binge-watch all the old ones!” your daughter squealed, clapping her hands together.

As Alexia picked another card, she asked, “Okay, what’s this one?” It was a blue, jelly-like creature, with large eyes and a goofy expression.

“Easy! That’s Psyduck!” your daughter replied enthusiastically.

“Psyduck,” Alexia echoed, nodding. “I like that one! He looks confused, just like I am half the time!”

Your daughter giggled, her eyes sparkling with joy. “You’re not confused! You’re just learning!”

Just then, you walked back in with a plate of pancakes, setting them on the table. “Breakfast is ready, you two!”

Your daughter jumped up, her excitement bubbling over. “Can we eat and watch Pokémon at the same time?”

“Sure!” you agreed, chuckling at her enthusiasm. “Just don’t spill syrup on the cards, okay?”

Alexia stood up, dusting off her pants, and grinned at you. “I can already tell I’m going to love this.”

As you all sat down at the table, your daughter climbed into Alexia’s lap, carefully setting her Pokémon cards beside her plate. “Okay, we can start with this one!” she said, handing Alexia a card of a Pokémon that looked like a huge rock with arms.

Alexia took it, pretending to think hard. “Rocky McRockface?”

Your daughter burst into laughter again, shaking her head. “It’s Geodude! You can’t name Pokémon whatever you want!”

“Hey, I think my name is better!” Alexia argued, sticking her tongue out playfully.

As you shared pancakes and laughter, you couldn’t help but feel grateful for this moment. Watching your wife immerse herself in your daughter’s world, even when it was completely foreign to her, showed you just how much she loved being a parent.

After breakfast, the three of you cleared the table and settled on the couch, the living room filled with the sounds of animated characters and your daughter’s excited commentary. Alexia leaned back, arms wrapped around your daughter, her head resting against yours.

“See? I’m already catching on,” she whispered playfully, glancing down at the screen.

You smiled, leaning into her, your heart swelling with warmth. “Just remember, it’s all about having fun. It doesn’t matter how many you get right.”

“I’ll make it my mission,” Alexia promised, her eyes twinkling with determination. “By the end of the month, I’ll be the Pokémon master.”

“Just wait until I teach you about all the evolutions!” your daughter chimed in, her eyes shining with mischief.

“Evolutions?” Alexia raised an eyebrow, her laughter spilling out. “This is going to be a long journey, isn’t it?”

You smiled, feeling content as you watched the two of them interact, the bond between them growing stronger with each shared laugh. In that moment, you realized that this was more than just about learning Pokémon names; it was about love, connection, and the beauty of family.

As the theme song of the Pokémon series played softly in the background, you knew that your little family was creating memories that would last a lifetime. And maybe, just maybe, your wife would become a Pokémon expert after all.

[brailsthesmolgurl]

HOW WOULD THE LNDS BOYS REACT TO YOU FORGETTING ABOUT A DATE?

Just some mild fluff before I proceed to ravage you all with more angst writings :) Read my recent angst please : Damnation

Read my most recent fluff: LNDS Boys as Daddies

Warnings: fluffy af, sfw

Rafayel knows that you know he does not like waiting. But, he also knows the risk of your job and how it sometimes take up a lot of your time. But in this scenario, BOTH of your time. Rafayel sat at home, hands holding his phone, and his eyes would not wander off of the screen. Highly anticipating for a call, a text even. But it never came.

"Rafayel!" The door busted opened, and his burgundy-shaded eyes darted up. His eyes widened as he noticed your arrival, but narrowed again and he turned his head away from you. "Rafayel, I am so so sorry. I had totally forgotten about our date today!"

You walked in, pulling onto the hem of your dress, the one that Rafayel had got it specially tailored for you just for the dinner function you guys would be attending tonight. But, you did promised him that prior to that event, both of you would grab ice cream together. Until, you slept late the night before and you nearly forgotten about the date.

"I do not have the energy to deal with a goldfish. And, I am certainly not going to entertain you." He tossed his phone onto his couch and crossed his arms over his chest, eyes still not facing you. You sat on the marble floor, and reached your hand out to touch his thigh and you watched as the tip of his ear turned rubicund, matching the tint on the apples of his cheeks. Knowing him well enough, the pout on his lips would make him look like a puffer fish. Puff for me or puff me please.

"Rafayel, I am really sorry okay, I did not mean to forget about this date. I just fell asleep pretty late last night as I was filing reports for all of the recent areas that wanderers had appeared and the deadline is today." You sighed and rubbed your hands against his thigh. Eyes scanning his body language, hoping he would not toss a fuss. Not that you mind, but you figured that you would not want him to pull out of the event last minute as this dress of yours does cost him a pretty penny and you wanted the dress to serve its purpose.

His hand reached out to grab yours, to silently indicate you to stop and he turned around to look at you. The pout that was no longer evident on his lips silently made you wished you had teased him further. He actually looked adorable with that pout of his and sometimes it is worth the trouble just to witness it.

Taking in your features, dark circles seemed to be an accessory for your face nowadays. Sighing, he held your cheeks in his lanky hands. "I see that you have not manage to do your makeup. Would you like me to do it for you instead?"

"No no, Rafayel. I was late, I could not possibly ask you to do my makeup! I can do it myself, I brought my makeup along!" You mustered a smile on your face, hands rustling through your bagpack and you pulled out a small pouch, filled with all of the makeup necessities you need for an event. The sight of the makeup bag did not impressed Rafayel but instead made him scoffed at you in return.

"That is a small makeup bag for such a big event. My lover cannot appear looking like a hag, she has to look like a queen. And a queen I shall make her to be. I have better makeup equipment than you eventhough I am a guy." Rafayel tossed his hair back and used his hands to run through his silky purple strands.

"You mean those?" Index finger pointing towards the stacks of paints by the other side of the room. "God knows what other infection I will get this time. The last time you did my makeup with those paints, I ended up with conjunctivitis."

"Hey hey, now, you may insult the tools I have, but you never insult my skills, yeah? I would still admit I did a pretty good job with paint for makeup." He spoke proudly and he stood up, walking off to his lavish bedroom. It did not took him long before he appeared with a bucket bag in his hand. "So I made preparations this time."

He sat down on the floor, in front of you this time, and he opened the bucket bag to reveal all of the makeup tools. They all looked very new and awfully expensive. With silver handles and bristles that looked like it was made out of the finest hairs within the makeup industry you could imagine. "That is a lot of makeup." You blurted out. Can you imagine how many videos he had watched just to get the right makeup kit for you?

"It is to save you from having to bring over your makeup next time and gives me another outlet to channel my creativity. How about we both stay home for now and I take the time to do your makeup, yeah?" He nudged your nose, a smile forming on his pink lips. "I know that I do not like waiting, but for you, I will always be more than willing to wait."

Xavier stood outside of the claw machine outlet, arms crossed on the front of his chest and he was looking everywhere. For you. He glanced down at his hunter's watch. 2pm. But he has not even seen your face since the last hour. You were supposed to meet up at 1pm, but your no-show is getting him a little worried.

He took his phone out of his pocket, going through messages, sliding thoroughly across his message app to ensure he does not miss out on anything: Jeremy...work...work...Jeremy. He really has no friends I guess. Welp, less time for others, more time for you! But none from you. As he was about to give you a call, his cerulean eyes caught sight of you running past the square, before stopping to look at traffic and you continued running. By the time you arrived in front of him, you were huffing and panting. Hands on your knees as you struggled to catch your breath.

"Did your work held you back?" Xavier bent down, clearly concerned as he was analysing the way you were breathing. His eyes at the meantime, scanned your body to ensure that you did not have any wounds on you till he came to your shoes. It was rare for you to wear heels given your job and that you have to constantly be on watch for your surroundings. Xavier's eyes could not leave your pink platform heels. "You ran in those?"

The pointing towards your heels made you snapped your head up to his and his eyes widened, as if he was shocked at your sudden reaction. "Yeah, I figured I might as well dress up a little as this is a date afterall. And furthermore, these heels are only 2cm in height, it will not stop me from fighting wanderers. Stylish and practical." Your chirped, answering his question and giving him extra information that you know he would ask eventually. As you stand up straight, he finally get to take a look at your whole outfit. A white loose polyester-made sweatshirt tucked in behind a denim overall skirt, and it is clear as day that you had put on some makeup. "What are you looking at?"

"It...uhm...you look different." He said, hands coming up to rub his lips, a nature of his when he is either flabbergasted or in awe. "I think you look pretty today." His eyes caught yours again and you felt your cheeks heat up.

"Oh yeah, before i forget, I am sorry Xa---." You wanted to apologise for making him wait for an hour for you. There are times where you would be late to work or to a date, but being an hour late is definitely inexcusable and Xavier had every right to receive compensation from you.

"Don't be." He interrupted you mid way and disregarded your apology. "I can wait. I had nothing to do anyways. I even managed to take a short nap as I was waiting for you." He displayed a small smile, a comforting one. "But I would like for you to pay for my meal as you did made me wait for you for an hour." Hearing that request, you could not stop a smile from appearing onto your face. Getting complimented by him and also getting forgiven by him seemed like a huge green flag to you and well, you are his afterall as he is to you. You finally take your time to analyse his outfit for the date. There is no doubt he put some effort into this date as well.

A white shirt with black slacks, with a pale yellow cardigan for the an accent of colour to his outfit. Guess he is not that bad at dressing himself up. "You look dashing as well yourself." You complimented and his eyes caught yours once again, a smile emerging on his face. "I like the colours that you had chosen for today. It fits your aesthetic, especially with your blonde hair, the pale yellow really suits you." We all love the soft boys aesthetic, especially if Xavier is your type, squeal.

"I did took some time to research on the outfits that guys would usually wear for dates. Most of the searches showed tuxedos and blazers but I figured that would be too much for casual dates so I ended up settling for this." He gestured towards his own outfit, his tone carrying a hint proudness when he talked about his searching progress. "Anyways, what you do you plan to eat?"

"How does hotpot sound, Xavier?" You reached out to grab his hand and he took the chance to intertwine his fingers with you as both of you started walking down the street together. You noticed how some passerbys would eye Xavier, I mean, who would not? He is such an eye candy especially with the outfit he had chosen for himself.

Xavier looked up at the sky, what was once a sunny scene is now becoming gloomy, with dark clouds closing in one another. A rain is expected to be arriving. "Hotpot in rain sounds like a great date to me. And I personally think with you accompanying me to eat hotpot, I would gladly wait for you always."

The ringing of your phone blasted through the silence of your room and you were jolted awake. You hastily grabbed the device and held it to your ear. "Where are you?" Zayne's voice rang through your speaker.

You sprung up on your bed, the sudden movement made your bed creak and you hear another sentence came through your phone. "Were you asleep?" You hesitated, as you did not want his suspicion to be confirmed. But you did not even get a chance to answer before he spoke. "I am coming over now."

You hurriedly rushed to the bathroom, thinking you could tidy yourself up to give yourself a better reason to explain on why you were late for the morning coffee date you had set with Zayne since last week. But your late night movie marathon gave you such a dopamine rush that your had forgotten the dictionary word of 'sleep' and 'waking up early for a date'.

After you had brushed your teeth, you were going to take a shower next before the sound of the doorbell spooked you. IT WAS BARELY 3 minutes. How close was he to your house? The last you recalled, the coffee shop you guys were planning to visit was halfway across town and that would take around a 30 minutes drive. Another ring of the doorbell turned your fast walk into a straight up sprint, running past the corner of your house to get to the front door. But a slip on your floor mat, made you stumbled and you hit your shin against your coffee table and you squeaked. Yes, squeaked like a rat.

Once you got to the door, you unlocked the bolt and you opened your door, revealing the tall man, wearing all black, with dark features being his trademark. You adjusted your stance and stood still, eyes wandered everywhere, purposely avoiding his intense stare. "You looked like you were in your dreamland." His monotonous voice cut through the tension in between you two. "Is that the reason why you were late?"

You stood aside as he took a step into your house, taking his leather shoes off and he placed it on your shoe rack neatly. "I am sorry Zayne." You closed the door, and muttered your apology as you turned around to face the towering man. "I overslept and forgotten about our date. I am really sorry."

"You do know that if you constantly sleep late at night, it would deteriorate your health right?" He reached out his hand to the small of your back and he slowly guided you towards the couch in your living area. You nodded, eyes still refusing to meet his as you felt guilt eating into your gut. Noticing how you were slightly limping on one leg, he squatted down immediately to take a look at your leg. "It seems like the bang that I had heard just now was from you."

"I...I did not want to make you wait at the door as I was already late for our date." You muttered and mustered just enough courage to run your hands through his slick black hair. His hazel-green eyes looked up to catch yours and he seemed to relax a little. "I am sorry Zayne."

"Come, let's get you seated." Before you could say anything, he lifted you up bridal style and took a few long strides before seating you onto the couch. "Getting yourself hurt just so you can reach to me on time is not an ideal scenario to me. The last thing I would want is for you to be hurt. Wait here." He stood up and took strides towards your bathroom, probably to get your med kit.

Indeed, he comes back with the med kit and immediately started working on the small cut accompanied by a bruise on your shin, applying antiseptic on it before placing a plaster onto the wound. "I am sorry Zayne. I will not be late again. It is so careless of me to miss out on our date when today is one of the only days I get to meet you throughout the week."

"People forget, it is part of the human's nature. Eventhough I am busy, you can always stop by to visit me at Akso Hospital. I can schedule my surgeries to have short breaks in between if your concern is that we are not spending enough time together." His respond is the method he uses to accept your apology. He is not good with comfort, but he does have his ways to show you that he cares about you and about this relationship. "Does your shin still hurt?" The shake of your head indicated a no and he took in a deep breath, packing the items he had used for your wound back into the med kit and he took a small stool and sat onto it. A big man on a small stool making me gag through my laughs. Although the stool is not that tall, but with a giant like him sitting on it, his eyes are levelled against you. This allows him to see you at a better angle, to analyse your facial features better.

"How long have you been waiting for me?" You asked, eyes looking into his mesmerizing ones and he took your small hand into his. His eyes looked down towards your calloused fingers and he placed a kiss onto the back of your hand, his warm lips no longer a foreign feeling on your skin. Your cheeks flushed at the interaction.

"I figured I could fetch you there instead of having you to sit on public transports to reach there. So, I had my car parked outside of your condo since an hour ago." He said, hands reaching up to touch the side of your cheeks. "Although I was a little frustrated that you were taking a while, but I was more concerned on what had happened to you. You are weaker than what you seem."

"I am not weak." You responded, lip turning into a frown. The sight of you pouting at him calling you weak made him smile. "I was just busy watching movies that I liked yesterday night and I just happened to sleep late. But I am in no way weak or whatsoever. I can take care of myself just fine."

"I never doubted your capabilities to take care of yourself. But for some instances---" He pointed at your plastered shin and flashed you a smirk. "I am glad to identify myself as your appointed physician. But you said that you were watching movies till late night yesterday, and that you overslept?"

You nodded and he added on. "Then I suppose as your prime physician, I would advise you not to sleep late anymore. Instead, we can both watch however much movies you want whenever we are on a date so that could probably prevent you from oversleeping on our dates right?" He looked at you with comforting eyes and he pulled you to sit onto his lap. "And regardless, waiting for you will always be better than seeing you being hurt."

I may or may not have gone haywire on the wordings, so hopefully these would give you guys a good brain rot.

Drop me comments as it would brighten up my day and lemme know if you have any requests as well for any stories :)

[buckets-and-trees]

Huffily Ever After: A CindereLloyd Story [2/?]

Chapter Two - Conference Day One Characters/Pairings: Lloyd Hansen x curvy Female!Reader Word Count: 6.4k Summary: The first official day of the conference kicks off with opposition and opportunity. You unexpectedly connect with someone from your past and bump into the infamous Lloyd Hansen - and keep bumping into him.

Content/Warnings: modern Cinderella adaptation, unknown identities, toxic coworkers, enemies to lovers, eventual smut

Notes: I am in no way a PR or Marketing expert! I do often work with marketing professionals, so I have a passing awareness of some of the trends right now. But when we get to the "detailed" PR and Marketing parts of the conference and conversations, this is an amalgamation of notes I took from our organization's recent one-day marketing summit, looking up sessions at actual marketing conferences, and using those topics to further my googling and reading some more articles and watching a couple of YouTube videos to get to the point where I felt like I could write some dialogue that seemed believable and wasn't overly vague. If you actually do anything with PR or Marketing, please just be gentle!

A/N 2: I mention Neal Sampat from The Newsroom as the opening keynote for the conference, but all the other professionals I've included are totally made up.

Previous Chapter | Series

↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

The next morning, you awoke with a start when your alarm went off. The memories of the masquerade at Versailles flooded back in a rush. The opulent ballroom, the mysterious stranger, that electrifying kiss in the gardens almost seemed like a dream. But the slight ache in your feet from dancing all night and the faint scent of the mystery man’s cologne still clinging to your skin confirmed it had been real.

You stretched in the comfy hotel bed, your mind replaying the events of the previous night. The way the man had looked at you, the intensity of his gaze behind that striking mask. The feel of his strong arms as he guided you across the dance floor. The passion in his kiss that had left you breathless and wanting more.

A soft buzz from your phone jolted you from your reverie. It was a text from Gus asking if you were up yet and interested in grabbing breakfast.

You smiled at Gus's text, always grateful for his friendship, but especially glad to have someone like him at your side to face the conference and all that it would entail. You quickly replied that you'd meet him in the hotel lobby in forty-five minutes.

As you showered and got ready for the day, your mind kept drifting back to the mysterious man from the masquerade. Who was he? Would you see him again at the conference? You knew he would be here, but it was a large conference with over a thousand professionals registered to attend. Part of you hoped you would somehow bump into him again, while another part worried the magic of last night would be shattered in the harsh light of day.

You carefully applied your makeup, trying to hide the slight shadows under your eyes from the late night. As you fastened your mother's necklace around your neck, you remembered the man's words about it. How he had seen its sentimental value when others might have dismissed it as too simple. Today it fell beneath the collar of your shirt, and you tapped it, the memory bringing a small smile to your lips.

Dressed in a crisp blazer with your leather tote bag at the ready, you set off to meet Gus.

As you stepped into the elevator, you couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement and nervousness about the day ahead. The conference was officially starting today, and you were determined to make the most of it. Your encounter with the mysterious man at the masquerade had left you feeling more confident, more alive. You were ready to channel that energy into your professional endeavors.

The elevator doors opened, and you spotted Gus waiting for you in the lobby. He was lounging in one of the plush armchairs, scrolling through his phone. When he saw you approaching, he jumped up with a grin.

"Well, well, look who finally decided to grace us with her presence," he teased, giving you a quick hug. "I was beginning to think you'd been whisked away by Prince Charming."

You felt a little heat creep up your cheeks, remembering the mysterious man's parting words of Goodnight, Cinderella. "Hardly," you scoffed, trying to play it cool. "Just a late night of networking, that's all."

Gus raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. "Uh-huh. And I suppose that's why you disappeared for hours with tall, dark, and handsome?"

You felt your cheeks heat even more at Gus's words. "It wasn't like that," you protested weakly. "We just talked."

Gus's grin widened. "Talked, huh? Is that what the kids are calling it these days?"

You rolled your eyes, giving him a playful shove. "Oh, stop it. Nothing happened. We just walked in the gardens and had an interesting conversation. That's all."

"Mhmm," Gus hummed, clearly unconvinced. "Well, whoever he was, he certainly seemed interested in you. I saw the way he was looking at you on the dance floor."

You felt a flutter in your stomach at the memory. "Really? I mean... it was just dancing."

Gus chuckled. "Keep telling yourself that, honey. Now come on, let's get some coffee and pastries in both of us before we officially descend into the chaos of this conference.”

Gus had you walk two blocks away for the breakfast spot he had determined was best, but you were glad for his foresight when the cafés you passed that were closer to the hotel were teeming with people. You were able to get a small table almost straight away and ordered coffee and croissants.

“Oh, God,” Gus groaned after the waiter left your table.

“What?” you asked.

“I think Lloyd Hansen is sitting over there, a few tables behind you.”

You resisted the urge to turn around and look. "Lloyd Hansen? As in the heir apparent of Hansen Global Digital Industries?" you whispered, leaning in closer to Gus.

Gus nodded, his eyes darting over your shoulder. "The one and only. He looks like he might be even more of a nightmare in person than they say he is."

Your heart raced at the thought of being in such close proximity to one of the most powerful emerging figures in your industry. His father’s company, Hansen Global, was at the forefront of innovation in digital marketing and PR. Lloyd Hansen was known for his ruthless business tactics but mostly for standing to inherit the empire his father had been building.

"What's he doing?" you asked, fascination getting the better of you despite the distaste you had for the man’s reputation.

Gus took a sip of his coffee, using the motion to glance over again. "He's alone, just reading something on his tablet. Probably plotting world domination or something."

You chuckled at Gus's joke, but couldn't help feeling a mix of curiosity and apprehension. Lloyd Hansen's reputation preceded him - brilliant but ruthless, innovative but cutthroat. Even though he was the prince of his father’s company, you'd heard rumors of how he'd climbed the ranks at Hansen Global leaving an abrasive trail of crushed competitors and discarded colleagues in his wake. Still, it seemed like he had such an easy go making a name for himself whereas you worked tirelessly and scraped for every break you got and new benchmark you achieved.

"Should we go and introduce ourselves?" you whispered, half-joking.

Gus's eyes widened. "Are you crazy? That man eats small fish like us for breakfast and I heard he hates being approached at events like this. Apparently, he once made an intern cry just for asking him a question."

You winced. "Yikes. Okay, maybe not then."

“He’s only here to do the rounds and make appearances.”

You noo longer wanted to meet him, but your curiosity was still piqued. "What does he look like? I've only ever seen photos online and in articles, but sometimes people look totally different in person."

Gus leaned in, lowering his voice. "Tall - taller than I would have guessed from photos. Dark hair, chiseled jawline that could cut glass. 90’s-level mustache. Wearing an obscenely expensive suit. And he's got these piercing blue eyes that look like they could see right through you."

Your heart skipped a beat at the description. It sounded eerily similar to your mystery man from the masquerade. But it couldn't be, could it? Surely Lloyd Hansen wouldn't have engaged in such a frivolous evening of anonymity and dancing. Besides, he no doubt would have been hobnobbing with the elites since his father’s company were the hosts sponsoring the event.

"Don't turn around," Gus warned, "but I think he just looked our way."

You froze, fighting the urge to glance over your shoulder. "What should we do?"

“Nothing, it looks like he’s leaving.”

You breathed a sigh of relief as Gus confirmed Lloyd Hansen had left the café. The brief tension dissipated, and you tried to refocus on the day ahead.

"Well, that was exciting," Gus chuckled, breaking the tension. "Now, let's focus on our game plan for today. We've got about an hour to finish up here and then check in at registration before the opening keynote. And then we still want to hit that panel on crisis management and deescalation in the first block of sessions, right?”

You nodded, pushing thoughts of mysterious masked men and intimidating industry tycoons out of your mind. "Yes, let's go over our notes one more time. Claude is one of the panelists, but the full group of panelists are killer and I want to get a really good question in."

As you and Gus huddled over your tablets, reviewing key points and statistics, you felt a renewed sense of purpose. Last night's magical interlude had been wonderful, but now it was time to prove yourself in the harsh light of day.

After finishing breakfast, you and Gus made your way to the hotel and the conference registration area. The buzz of excitement was palpable. The area outside the hotel's grand ballroom had been transformed into a sea of sleek banners and digital displays, all emblazoned with the conference logo. Attendees from around the world milled about, their voices a cacophony of different languages and accents.

"I can't believe we're actually here," you whispered to Gus, clutching your leather tote bag a little tighter. The enormity of the opportunity before you was suddenly very real.

Gus squeezed your arm reassuringly. "We've got this," he said with a wink. "Now, let's go get our badges and swag bags like the professionals we are."

You both joined the queue for registration, inching forward as the line slowly moved. You were busy admiring the intricate floral arrangements adorning the registration tables when you spotted two familiar figures ahead of you in the line. Your heart sank as you recognized Anya and Holly, their perfectly coiffed hair and designer outfits making you feel suddenly underdressed despite your carefully chosen ensemble.

Once they finished checking in, they turn and spot you and Gus. Anya’s crimson lips curved into a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Well, well," Anya purred, her voice dripping with faux sweetness as she and Holly approached you. "If it isn't two of our favorite team member! Did you enjoy playing dress-up last night?"

You felt a rush of irritation at her condescending tone and the way she ignored Gus entirely, but forced a polite smile anyway. This was hardly new. They’d ignored you in the car the full way to the masquerade last night.

"Good morning, Anya, Holly. Yes, the masquerade was lovely. Did you enjoy yourselves?"

Holly sniffed, adjusting her designer glasses. "It was fine, I guess.

Though some of us were actually networking instead of gallivanting off with mysterious strangers."

You felt a rush of heat to your cheeks at the implication. How did they know about that? "Yes, we were all there to network," you said, trying to keep your voice steady.

Anya leaned in, her voice low and venomous. "Word of advice, darling. In this industry, it's not just about who you know, but who knows you. And trust me, no one of consequence is going to remember some nobody from a tiny firm who spent the night dancing instead of making real connections."

You felt a surge of anger at her words, but before you could retort, Gus stepped in. "Actually," he said smoothly, "we made some excellent connections last night. Claude Dumont from Hansen Global was particularly interested in our work in emerging markets."

Anya's eyes widened slightly, a flicker of surprise crossing her face before she schooled her features back into a mask of indifference. "Well," she said, her tone slightly less confident, "I suppose even a broken clock is right twice a day."

"We should get going," Holly interjected.

“Just remember we’re here to work, not flirt,” Anya tossed over her shoulder as she walked away with Holly.

“I don’t know why you stay with them. You should really transfer to another team,” Gus said.

“It wasn’t bad when Vaughn was still on the team. And Walsh said I’d be invaluable to them during the transition,” you explained.

Helen Walsh had scooped you out of the intern pool at Nexus earlier than most make it and brought you onto her team, giving you your first fulltime position - with a respectable starting salary and benefits, practically your fairy godmother. A year and a half ago Walsh had been promoted to Nexus’s VP of Strategy and Innovation and that’s when there had been some realignment of teams, putting you under a new director - Amilla Tremaine.

“But it’s not a transition period anymore. We are well past that.”

You frowned. “I know, but I do like our clients and our projects. And I don’t want people to think I’m just a team jumper.”

“No one would think that,” Gus countered.

“Maybe you’re right, but…”

Gus sighed. “Okay, I’ll back up, but we’re here at this conference,” he said, “this is exactly the time to be thinking about new opportunities, new projects, make new connections, so promise me that if you don’t get some insane new offer outside of Nexus, you’ll at least think about a new team transfer?”

You put on a bright smile for him and said, “I promise.”

The conference staff worker called Gus forward to check in, which was perfect timing.

The truth was, you had already thought about a transfer. You’d even talked to Amilla about the possibility a few months ago, and Amilla had acted so shocked and insisted that you wouldn’t be nearly as great anywhere else as where you were exactly right now. You had tried to pivot that reasoning into it you wanting to move to a different team so you could gain some new expertise, and she had talked that down, too.

It was clear she was determined to keep you, despite the disdain you often felt from her.

And while she was unwilling to let you go, it was a moot point to try and transfer because directors negotiated with each other when employees transferred to another team, and you were certain Amilla would block any move.

You know you could take it to Walsh, but you didn’t want to be that employee who went over the Directors’ level to a VP.

You could manage.

As you and Gus finished checking in and collected your conference materials, you tried to shake off the encounter with Anya and Holly. You wouldn't let their pettiness dampen your spirits or derail your focus.

Your thoughts were interrupted as the conference staff called you forward to check in. You plastered on a professional smile and approached the registration desk.

"Name, please?" the cheerful volunteer asked.

As you gave your information and received your badge and conference materials, you couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement and trepidation. This conference was a huge opportunity, but Anya's words still stung. You were determined to prove her wrong and make meaningful connections.

With your registration complete, you and Gus started toward the opening keynote. The corridors were bustling with attendees, all chattering excitedly about the upcoming sessions and networking opportunities.

You made your way into the main conference hall, where the opening keynote was set to begin. The room was massive, with rows upon rows of chairs facing a grand stage. The energy was electric as attendees found their seats, the low hum of excited chatter filling the air.

As you settled into your seats, you couldn't help but scan the crowd, wondering if you might catch a glimpse of your mystery man from the masquerade. Your eyes darted from face to face, but of course no one seemed to have those particular piercing blue eyes.

The lights dimmed, signaling the start of the opening session. A hush fell over the crowd as the conference organizer stepped onto the stage to introduce the speaker, Neal Sampat. As Neal took the stage, commanding the room with his presence, you couldn't help but lean forward in your seat. The speech was engaging, full of industry insights, experiences from his past, and predictions for the future of digital marketing. You furiously scribbled notes, not wanting to miss a single point. It was a perfect kick off with its infectious and inspiring energy.

As the keynote speaker concluded to thunderous applause, you felt a renewed sense of purpose and excitement for the conference ahead. The energy in the room was palpable as attendees began to file out, chattering animatedly about the insights they'd just gained.

"That was incredible," you breathed to Gus as you gathered your things. "I have so many ideas already!"

Gus nodded enthusiastically. "I know, right? I can't wait to dig into some of those strategies."

As you made your way out of the main hall, you consulted your conference schedule. "Okay, so we have that panel on crisis management next. We should hurry if we want to get good seats."

"Yep, that's the one," Gus confirmed. "It's in Conference Room 212B, which should be... upstairs and that way." He pointed down a bustling corridor.

You and Gus navigated through the crowded corridors, dodging clusters of networking attendees and following the signs to your next session. As you rounded a corner, you suddenly collided with someone, your conference materials scattering across the floor.

"I'm so sorry!" you exclaimed, kneeling to gather your papers. "I wasn't watching where I was going."

"No, you weren’t," a cool, annoyed voice replied.

Your head snapped up, and you found yourself looking into a mustached face with piercing blue eyes. Your breath caught in your throat as you realized you had to be face to face with Lloyd Hansen himself. Up close, you could see why Gus had described his eyes as intense - they seemed to bore right through you. Your heart raced as you scrambled to your feet, clutching your papers to your chest.

"Mr. Hansen," you stammered, "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to-"

He cut you off with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Just watch where you're going next time," he said curtly. His eyes flicked down to your name badge, then back up to your face.

"I will," you assured him, trying to regain your composure. "Again, I apologize for the inconvenience."

Lloyd Hansen's gaze lingered on you for a moment longer, his expression hard. Then, without another word, he stepped around you and continued down the hallway.

You let out a shaky breath, a mix of anger and embarrassment surging through your veins.

"Are you alright?" he asked, shooting a wary glance at Lloyd.

"I'm fine," you assured him, “let’s go.”

You and Gus managed to snag seats near the front of Conference Room 212B just as the panel was about to begin. The room was packed, which was no surprise and a testament to the importance of the topic.

“Welcome to our session! You’re in the room for ‘Shields Activated: How to Combat Crisis, Predict Predicaments and Deescalate Reputational Battles,’ and I don’t want to waste a second of our time, so I’m going to introduce you to our experts and we’ll dive right in.”

As the moderator introduced the panelists, your eyes widened in recognition. You had paid attention to the panelists listed for this session but somehow skipped over the moderator’s name, but before you now was one of your favorite professors from graduate school, Maggie Mortimer.

You smiled as you watched Maggie expertly guide the panel discussion, her sharp wit and insightful questions drawing out the best from each expert. As Claude Dumont began speaking about a particularly tricky PR crisis his team had navigated, you leaned forward, hanging on every word.

"The key," Claude was saying, "is to always be three steps ahead. Anticipate not just the immediate fallout, but the potential ripple effects weeks or even months down the line."

As the Q&A portion began, you mustered up the courage to raise your hand. Maggie's eyes scanned the room, and you saw a flicker of recognition when she spotted you.

"Yes, the young lady in the blue blazer," she said, gesturing towards you.

You stood, heart pounding. "Thank you. My question is about the balance between transparency and protection of sensitive information during a crisis. How do you determine what information to disclose and what to withhold, especially when public trust is at stake?"

Claude Dumont leaned forward, his eyes lighting up at your question. "Excellent point," he said. "It's one of the trickiest aspects of crisis management. The key is to be as transparent as possible without compromising legal or ethical boundaries. We always aim to provide enough information to satisfy public concern and demonstrate accountability, while carefully protecting any sensitive data or ongoing investigations."

He paused, then added, "It's also crucial to be upfront about what you can and cannot disclose. The public often respects honesty about limitations more than they do vague platitudes."

He went on to elaborate, providing examples from his own experience. As he spoke, you noticed the other panelists nodding in agreement. When Claude finished, Maggie turned to the other experts, inviting their input.

As you sat down, Gus gave you a discreet thumbs up. You felt a surge of pride that your question had sparked a lively discussion among the panel.

When the session ended, you and Gus made your way to the front of the room where the panelists were gathering their things. You hoped to catch a quick word with Claude Dumont and thank him for his insightful response to your question.

As you approached, Maggie Mortimer spotted you and her face lit up with recognition. "Well, if it isn't one of my star pupils!" she exclaimed, pulling you into a quick hug. "I thought that was you asking that excellent question."

You felt a flush of pride at her words. "Thank you, Professor Mortimer. It's wonderful to see you again."

"Please, call me Maggie," she insisted. "We're colleagues now."

You grinned. “Maggie, this is Gus Lancashire, we both work at Nexus PR.”

They exchanged pleasantries, and then Claude joined you.

“Claude, I’d like to introduce you to-” Maggie started.

But Claude cut in, “Oh, I met these two last night, Maggie. And I hope you’ll both be at the panel I’m moderating tomorrow. I’m still trying to find a replacement with Leon having to bow out, but I’m on the hunt.”

Maggie's eyes lit up at Claude's words. "Oh, you're looking for a replacement panelist? You know, Claude, I couldn't help but notice your panel is a bit male-heavy. Perhaps we could kill two birds with one stone here."

She turned to you with a mischievous glint in her eye.

Your eyes widened as you realized where Maggie was going with this. Surely she couldn't mean...

"What do you say? I remember your work in my crisis communication seminar - you had some fascinating insights on the intersection of social media and reputation management in times of crisis."

Your eyes widened in shock. "Me? On a panel? Oh, I don't think-"

But Claude was already nodding enthusiastically. "That's brilliant, Maggie! We definitely need more diverse voices, and the perspective of an emerging professional would be invaluable."

You felt your cheeks flush as you stammered, "I'm flattered, truly, but I'm not sure I'm qualified to be on a panel with such esteemed experts. I mean, I've only been in the field for a few years..."

Claude waved off your protests. "Nonsense! Fresh eyes are exactly what we need. The topic is ‘Blending Audience Insights and Brand Expertise to Build Trust and Social Relevance,’ and your question earlier showed a keen understanding of the complexities we face in the public and social sphere in general. I think you'd bring a valuable perspective."

Maggie nodded in agreement. "Don't sell yourself short. You've always had a knack for seeing angles others miss. This could be a great opportunity for you."

You glanced at Gus, who was grinning and nodding vigorously. You took a deep breath, trying to calm the mix of excitement and terror swirling in your chest. "Well, if you really think I could contribute something valuable..."

"Excellent!" Claude clapped his hands together. “You’ll join us for dinner tonight. I’m hosting for all our panelists to meet and mix the personalities together ahead of tomorrow.”

You took a deep breath, trying to calm the mix of excitement and nerves bubbling up inside you.

This was an incredible opportunity, one that could potentially launch your career to new heights. But the thought of speaking on a panel in front of so many industry leaders was daunting.

"I... I would be honored," you finally managed to say, your voice steadier than you felt. "Thank you for considering me."

Claude beamed. "Excellent! I'll have my assistant send you the details. The panel is tomorrow afternoon, so we'll need to meet briefly in the morning to go over the format and key points."

You nodded, still feeling slightly dazed. "Of course. I'll make sure I'm prepared."

As Claude and Maggie excused themselves to prepare for their next engagements, Gus turned to you with an enormous grin. "Holy shit," he whispered excitedly. "Do you realize what just happened? This is huge!”

You nodded, still feeling slightly stunned. "I know, I can't believe it. This is... wow."

"You're going to be amazing," Gus assured you, squeezing your arm. "But you should probably let Amilla know."

Your stomach dropped at the thought. Amilla wasn't going to be pleased about you suddenly being elevated to panelist status. "Right," you said with a grimace. "I should probably do that now before she hears it from someone else."

You pulled out your phone and composed a quick email to Amilla, trying to strike a balance between excitement and professionalism. You hit send before you could overthink it.

"Okay, done," you said, letting out a breath. "How long until lunch? I suddenly feel like I need to eat my weight in carbs. "

After more sessions, a delicious lunch, and a round of affinity group networking, you had just enough time to run up to your room to refresh your look before dinner. You opted to keep most of your outfit the same, but changed into a classier pair of shoes and switched up your hair.

When you stepped out of the elevator into the hotel lobby, you felt a mix of excitement and nerves fluttering in your stomach. You smoothed down your blazer and adjusted the delicate necklace at your throat, your mother's pendant a comforting weight against your skin. The lobby bustled with conference attendees, their animated chatter filling the air with a buzz of energy.

Your eyes scanned the crowd, searching for Maggie's familiar face. The ornate chandeliers overhead cast a warm glow across the marble floors, creating an atmosphere of understated luxury. Potted plants dotted the space, their lush fronds adding a touch of living elegance to the decor.

You spotted Maggie near the concierge desk, her silver hair gleaming under the lights. She was deep in conversation with a tall man you didn't recognize, her hands moving animatedly as she spoke. As you approached, Maggie caught sight of you and her face lit up with a warm smile.

"Ah, there you are!" she exclaimed, waving you over. "I was just telling Dr. Rossi here about your thesis work with me."

You felt a flush of pride as you joined them, extending your hand to Dr. Rossi. "It's a pleasure to meet you, sir," you said, trying to keep your voice steady despite your nerves.

"Likewise," he replied with a kind smile. "Maggie speaks very highly of you. I look forward to hearing your insights at tomorrow's panel."

"Thank you," you replied, tamping down the small shot of nervousness at Dr. Rossi's words. "I'm honored to be part of the panel and looking forward to the discussion."

You were excited, but it was also a huge and intimidating thing to tackle for the first time, especially last minute, and you wanted to do well with this opportunity.

Just then, Claude appeared, greeting everyone warmly. "Shall we head to dinner?" he suggested, gesturing towards the hotel's Michelin-star restaurant.

As your small group made its way through the lobby, you couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement. You were about to have dinner with some of the most respected minds in your field. It was an opportunity you never could have imagined when you arrived at the conference.

The maître d' led you to a private dining room, where some of the other panelists and a couple of representatives from Hansen Global were already gathered. Claude made quick introductions as everyone took their seats. You found yourself between Victor Chen, a crisis management specialist, and - to your complete chagrin - Lloyd Hansen.

He didn’t look much happier about the seating arrangement than you were.

You took your seat, trying to appear calm and collected despite the awkwardness of sitting next to Lloyd Hansen. As everyone settled in, waiters appeared with menus and began pouring wine.

"So," Lloyd said, his voice low and smooth, "you're the last-minute addition to tomorrow's panel."

You turned to face him, determined to maintain your professionalism despite the flutter in your stomach. "Yes. I'm looking forward to contributing to the discussion."

He arched a brow and then pointedly looked away from you and at his menu.

Fine, you thought. Let him keep living up to the taciturn reputation he’s built up.

But as you reached for your own menu, the man on the other side of you - with sharp eyes and an even sharper suit - started to strike up a conversation with you.

"So, you’re our ingenue," he said, giving you an appraising look. "Claude said you’ve been on his radar the past few months."

Claude had said as much himself last night. It was a good reminder that you did have some work and experience to back you going into this panel - and moving forward as a professional in this field.

"It's an honor to meet you," you replied, trying not to let your voice betray your awe. You'd read several of Victor's case studies in grad school. "I'm a big admirer of your work, especially your handling of the Greenleaf Tech crisis last year," you said, your voice growing more confident as you spoke about a topic you were passionate about. "The way you managed to turn public sentiment around while still addressing the core issues was masterful."

Victor's eyes lit up with interest. "Oh, you followed that case? It was certainly a challenge. What did you think of our social media strategy during the first 48 hours?"

You leaned in, eager to discuss the intricacies of the case. "I thought it was brilliant how you used X, Threads, and Bluesky simultaneously to provide real-time updates and transparency. It really helped to quell the spread of misinformation."

As you and Victor delved deeper into the discussion, you felt yourself relaxing. This was your element - analyzing strategies, discussing best practices. You barely noticed as the first course arrived, too engrossed in the evolution of your discussion with Chen. You could feel Lloyd shift slightly beside you, his attention caught by your conversation despite his apparent disinterest.

The waiter arrived with the first course, a beautifully plated salad of seasonal greens and edible flowers.

"You make some interesting points," Victor said, pausing to take a sip of her wine. "I'm curious, how would you have handled the situation differently?"

You took a moment to gather your thoughts, aware that others at the table were now listening in. "Well, I think the overall strategy was sound," you began carefully. "But I might have considered leveraging more user-generated content in the early stages. Encouraging employees and satisfied customers to share their experiences could have helped humanize the company during a critical time."

Victor nodded thoughtfully. "An interesting approach. It carries some risks, but could certainly pay off if executed well."

"Indeed," Claude interjected. “I’m hoping you can really highlight utilizing an authentic humanizing approach on the panel tomorrow,” he said to you specifically, “we want to ensure we're covering all angles of building trust and social relevance in today's digital landscape, and that’s something I’ve seen in the work you’ve done with the clients your team works with."

The dinner progressed, and you found yourself growing more comfortable with the group. The conversation flowed easily, touching on various industry trends and challenges. You contributed where you could, offering insights from your own experiences and asking thoughtful questions.

Lloyd remained mostly silent beside you, only interjecting once or twice with a sharp comment or observation. You couldn't help but notice the way his presence seemed to command attention whenever he spoke and the way his piercing blue eyes scanned the table as if assessing everyone's reactions.

The main course arrived - a perfectly poached snapper with peas and a buerre blanc sauce that made your soul leave your body - and the conversation shifted to the challenges of maintaining brand authenticity in an increasingly digital world.

"The key," Dr. Rossi was saying, "is to find the balance between staying true to your core values and adapting to changing consumer expectations."

You nodded in agreement, swallowing a bite of fish before adding, "And I think that's where social listening becomes crucial. It's not just about pushing out content, but really understanding what your audience cares about and how they perceive your brand."

Lloyd Hansen, who had been mostly silent throughout the meal, suddenly spoke up. "Social listening is all well and good," he said, his voice cool and authoritative, "but at the end of the day, it's about results. Brand loyalty only matters if it translates to the bottom line."

You felt a flicker of irritation at his dismissive tone. Before you could stop yourself, you turned to face Lloyd directly.

"With all due respect, Mr. Hansen," you said, your voice steady despite the nervous flutter in your stomach, "I'd argue that brand loyalty and financial results are inextricably linked, especially in today's market. A strong, authentic brand connection leads to customer retention, word-of-mouth marketing, and ultimately, sustained growth."

Lloyd's piercing blue eyes locked onto yours, his expression unreadable. For a moment, the table fell silent, and you worried you'd overstepped. But then, to your surprise, the corner of Lloyd's mouth twitched in what might have been the ghost of a smile.

"An interesting perspective," he said, his tone less dismissive than before. "And how would you propose measuring the impact of this authentic connection on actual revenue?"

You weren’t sure how to answer. You knew that was important, but your experience working with profit-driven brands was much more limited, and as it wasn’t your strength, that’s not where you typically got assigned on projects.

On your other side, Victor Chen jumped in with, "Customer lifetime value, retention rates, and net promoter scores are all valuable indicators. But beyond that, we can track engagement rates across social platforms and correlate them with sales data to see how authentic connections translate to purchasing behavior."

“Sometimes the impact is more subtle,” Dr. Rossi added, “like increased resilience during market downturns or the ability to command premium pricing. But I believe these factors all contribute to long-term financial success."

After that the conversation flowed, but Lloyd remained silent - he didn’t seem defeated, merely taking a back seat again, his piercing gaze flicking between the speakers. Despite his imposing presence beside you, you found yourself feeling an increasing rapport with the others panelists through the discussion. There was a wealth of knowledge and experience around the table, and this was the kind of discussion you knew you would want to see if you were attending the panel tomorrow. You soaked up every word like a sponge, but by dessert didn’t feel like a complete imposter adding your insights.

Dinner drew to a close and the conversation had shifted to lighter topics. The last of the dessert plates were being cleared away - a decadent chocolate soufflé that had everyone at the table raving. The warm, intimate atmosphere of the private dining room was filled with the soft clink of coffee cups and the gentle murmur of conversation.

You were following an animated discussion between Maggie and Dr. Rossi about the evolving landscape of social media influencers that had devolved into them raving over some of their favorites - genuine contributors worth keeping an eye on as well as some guilty pleasures - when a sudden movement caught your eye. Lloyd Hansen had abruptly pushed back his chair, the legs scraping against the polished hardwood floor with a jarring screech that cut through the ambient chatter.

"If you'll excuse me," he said, his voice clipped and formal, "I have some urgent matters to attend to. Claude, thank you for hosting."

Before anyone could respond, Lloyd was striding towards the door, his tall frame cutting an imposing figure as he exited the private dining room. The sudden departure left a momentary awkward silence in its wake.

Claude cleared his throat, smoothly stepping in to fill the void. "Well, I suppose that concludes our evening. Thank you all for coming. I look forward to a fantastic panel discussion tomorrow."

As the group began to disperse, you couldn't help but feel a mix of relief and curiosity at Lloyd's abrupt exit. He had maintained an intimidating presence seemingly by design, and yet there was something intriguing about him that you couldn't quite put your finger on. It was frustrating that he was so curt and distant because part of you really wanted to dissect the man behind the mask.

Maggie approached you as you gathered your things. "You did wonderfully tonight," she said warmly. "I knew you'd fit right in."

You smiled gratefully. "Thank you, Maggie. I can't tell you how much I appreciate this opportunity."

“And I appreciate you being a good sport and sitting by our lovely Prince Charming,” Claude said, coming up next to you.

You laughed softly at Claude's comment about Lloyd. "He certainly lives up to his reputation," you said diplomatically.

Claude's eyes twinkled with amusement. "Indeed he does. But don't let his prickly exterior fool you - I’ve watched him climb up through Hansen Digital Global, and Lloyd can be brilliant at what he does. He just lacks certain social graces."

You nodded, thinking back to Lloyd's few but incisive comments during dinner. Despite his brusque manner, you couldn't deny the sharp intelligence behind his words.

"Well," Claude continued, "I think we've all earned a good night's rest. Remember, we'll meet at nine in the morning to go over the panel format and key points. Don't be late!"

next chapter: The Panel

We'll see more Lloyd next chapter. But one of the things I love about Cinderella folklore is that there's romance AND there's Cinderella's journey, and I really want to do that justice for you, too! This conference is a big deal! We can't waste all that potential for you!

↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

I do not do tag lists, but FOLLOW @buckets-and-stories and TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS to be updated any time I publish a new work!

[xuchiya]

streets [c.san]

₊˚.༄ || filth valentines m.list || hongjoong || seonghwa || yunho || yeosang || san || mingi || wooyoung || jongho || ₊˚.༄

₊˚.༄ We real life made for each other And it's hard to keep my cool ₊˚.༄

"it's getting late, do you have someone to pick you up?" your head turn towards san, still in his uniform. his face mask were pulled down just below his bottom lip, emphasizing his cheeks; it made you want to squish his cheeks from being so innocent.

san was one of your fellow nurses. The crisp navy-blue scrubs fit him perfectly, the name tag reading "San Choi, RN" gleaming under the fluorescent lights. you cleared your throat; your heart was beating too loud for you that it hurts to taint this uncorrupted soul. you have hint after hint of crush on this man, this huge ass man that his face does not match his enormous body that you totally found yourself completely hidden.

proved when you stood behind him once and when you say, disappeared.

abracadabra, bitch not even a strand of hair can be seen.

"ah well i actually have somewhere to be ... what about you?" san looks at his watch, sighing, brushing his hair off his eyes, "my friend said he'll pick me up but he had an emergency call from his dad's company so now I have to wait for a bus..."

you frown looking at your watch too, its 10pm. Usually buses don't take this route anymore, "buses aren't available in this hour, san."

his heart fell on his stomach, double checking his watch, "damn it!" your eyes widen at his sudden burst of profanity. his eyes widen too and apologizing to you, "i'm sorry didn't mean to."

your lips curled up in a teasing smile, "your patient would not like it if she heard that one." San shakes his head laughing lightly. the small silence engulfs you both before you had an idea which will be a torture for you.

probably a torture for him too.

San was already an intern at a prestigious hospital near his family's home; owned by his grandfather though he is expecting him that he will continue his service even after his internship.

but when San came by a hospital that one of his friends were admitted after being confined. He found himself stuck on the reception area as his eyes were glued to your figure, up on hospital trolley, shouting dose of pharmaceutical. Your determine look and perseverance on your career what intrigued him to know you more.

so he left his family hospital.

San is pediatrician and so do you, the amount of love he gives on these children what also intrigued you in getting to know the man that suddenly left the hospital that you were trying to apply.

"hey i can give you a ride?" you mention, his ear perk up and reddens. his heart thumps inside his chest all of a sudden, "i-i .."

upon realizing what you said, your eyes once again widen and stutter out excuses, "oh my gosh! i - this is embarrassing, God take me!" you groan, covering your face.

for a while San chuckles at your reaction, composing himself, "I know you don't mean any harm but if you're going to drop me off then i hope i'm not delaying any of your plans."

When San agrees about you giving him a ride, he meant to be able to relax on the passenger seat.

He stares at the glaring matte black with gold flames on the Kawasaki Ninja 400R. That is one of the motorbikes he wishes to own and drive but because of his independence, San is still saving up.

"Holy .." You look at San as you place the glove tightly on your hand, "hmm?" Clueless on his reaction, you swing your leg over the bike, reviving the engine on and tune in the smoky sound of the engine of your bike.

San stares in awe as you hand him (set of embarrassment hue on your cheeks) a customized helmet. It has kitty ear with soft peach color as parallel of the inside of the ear.

"this is so cute." when he puts in the helmet, it dawned on him. You, arch back, hunch forward and him behind you, holding on tightly. His ears were once again red, frozen in place; his mind racing the same speed as your bike with filthy thoughts.

Like how could he not? Your ass is probably close to his (now) stiffening cock in his scrubs when he jumps in. the way it would keep brushing on his cock would probably have him cumming there.

"San? you okay?" You haven't feel the pressure or the weight on your back, so you turn your attention on San; standing with an incredible thickening boner in his scrubs, if it weren't for the eye shield of your helmet, he would seen you checking him out.

Or worse, staring at his firm boner.

San snap out of his thoughts and hurriedly swing his legs over the other side of the bike, after settling down on the leather seat. "You okay? Do you need-"

"Let's just go." San spoke clearing his throat and immediatly feels bad for brushing your concerns off, you understood why.

Without speaking much, you note that San would not hold on to you because of his hard situation so you did the initiative to grab his hands, in which he was taken back, and wrap them around your waist; patting his hand, "Mind you that it's night and I'll be taking advantage of the road."

You look over at San, "don't worry, I'll slow down if its too much." So without delaying much of your guys time, you kick off the stand and off both of you on the streets. San calling whatever can answer them make this ride, a comfortable one.

to say the least, no one grant his calls.

"u-Ugh f-ufuck chakaman!" San gasp, holding on to the mop of hair on the level of his hips while gripping his scrub up on his chest in his other hand—exposing his toned stomach, his scrub pants pooled on the floor. Your tousled hair, lips wrapped around his aching cock left him gripping the leather seat of your motorbike as you continued swirling your tongue on his red tip. San cried, bucking his hips when you took all of him; fitting him in your mouth up til’ his tip hitting the back of your throat.

 You hum to accumulate more of his climax, which in your satisfaction made San whimper thrusting his hips in your mouth, “f-fuck …” Shamelessly, he started fucking your throat as his climax were nearing and sooner, his cum spurted on your tongue and down your throat. You pull away from him, opening your mouth and sticking your tongue out to let him see that you have collected some of his cum before swallowing them.

  You gave him a smile before licking your salty lips, standing up proceeding to remove your leather pants; letting them rest on your knees along with your undies. You turn your head over to look at him with a smirk on your lips, bending moderately for him to see your puckered glistening hole with a small help of one of your hands to spread your cheek.

 “I know you want to get your dick wet, come on baby.” San’s eye twitch the moment you provoke him and have to look around the cleared parking spot you parked on and had him spitting his fingers and run them up and down your puffy cunt before grabbing his semi-hard dick and tap his tip on your hole; wiggling your asscheeks for him to provoke him more which he took the cue and slam his hips on yours.

You were quite taken back, his hips pace was something you were wondering if he has his dick wet a few times or he has this speed that you were looking for; nevertheless it had you moaning his name as his tip kept nudging. You rolled your hips each time he pulls away, leaving the tip then slamming back inside, “Fu-fuck Sannie— that’s so good! Right there!”

San’s hand crept down towards your clit, circling them rapidly and increasing the pleasure and the coil on your stomach, “You like that? You dirty dirty girl.” San stops circling his fingers around your clit and let you bend over your motorcycle as his hips snaps swiftly, placing the hem of his scrubs between his teeth as his hands knead the flesh of your hips then to your plump ass, spreading them as he watch his dick disappear inside your hole; a ring of your slick making him moan in his scrubs.

“Shit shit!” You cursed, lewd noises echoing the silent parking lot increase the arousal on your stomach, the fire of desire as San rapidly ram himself until you feel your thighs shake, “I’m g-gonna cum!” San drops the cloth and bent over to your ear, “Then make yourself a mess on my dick baby.” 

That it all took before you had a long string of ‘fuck’ leaving your lips as your orgasm washed over you, eyes fluterring close hips moving to chase your high. You felt San’s hand clasp around your hips and his broken moans reach your ears, “I don’t care if you’re on the pill or not but me? Get you knocked up? It’s been a fantasy of mine.”

His seeds spurted your walls, bucking a deeper part of your pussy. His hips halted as he let every drop of his cum stay inside you before pulling out, a whine left your lips but soon replaced by a yelp as San smacked your ass in his palm before placing your panties and your pants back on, “It’s cold and besides …” You turn around, he brushes hair away from your sweaty face, “I don’t want you wasting what we work hard on.”

Your cheeks flared, “You must have thought of this ‘fantasy of yours for a while now eh?” San shakes his head, a smile on his lips; securing his boxers and scrub pants back on before leaning on your motorcycle, shrugging, “Maybe but I should have taken you on a date first before I knock you up.”

You whine, smacking his arms, “Stop using that term.” San’s head threw back as he laughed at your reddened face, you groaned turning your head to the side. He stops laughing little by little before sighing, grabbing your hand; pulling you between his legs, “But it’s true. I had it all planned and there’s a step by step to it … but it looks like I skipped a step.”

You look at him, pouty lips, “a lot you mean.” He chuckles heartedly, grabbing your cheeks in his large palms, caressing them, “Okay a lot but it doesn’t mean I ain’t gonna take care of you. Let me praise you, love you, worship you and let me do those things because it is my duty to make you feel special and I want you to feel you are the only girl in this damn world. You’re my girl.”

You were left speechless and San saw in your eyes the appreciation, pulling you in his arms, “I’ll kiss you after our fourth date.”

“Why not now? You already got me knocked up and we are not even on our first date.” He chuckles and this is one of the reasons why he likes you; nonchalant or straightforward. He nodded, “Okay.” He pulls you in near his warmth, his lips landing gently on yours. He took the lead to make you feel special, make you feel the most important person to him.