#don't care much for the empire either

[varpusvaras]

An AU in which Jason, upon returning to Gotham, gets really swept up into the whole crime lord thing, and never gets the time to go through with his revenge plan.

It starts small. He comes back and gets to work, and after a while, he has managed to carve out some of the crime from crime alley. This gets him noticed among some of the people there. One night, a group of thugs approach him, but instead of wanting to fight him, they want to work for him.

Jason, still fresh, with not much revenue coming for him yet, tells them that he isn't hiring because he cannot exactly pay them much. The thugs say that it doesn't matter, because they like what he is doing, and would like to be in on it anyway, and, well. If Jason has help managing other things, he can dedicate more time on his bigger plan, right?

Wrong. Things start to move much quicker now, and that means that more people come in and want to work for him. At this point Jason has money coming in, and he starts paying them, too, which makes more people come in, which in turn makes more money to come in as well. Jason can pay them more, and suddenly he notices a difference in many of the goons he has on his roster now. They seem happier. They joke more, many of them have better clothes on them, and they don't look so gaunt anymore, either.

Jason asks about it, once, and the goon tells him that they have had the money to buy actual groceries and new pair of boots, which makes living a lot more comfortable. They even got to buy their kid a new winter jacket! Now, if they save up a little bit, they will be able to get their kid new school books as well!

And Jason, Crime Alley boy Jason, who loved school and reading, feels his heart strings being violently yanked. Don't worry about the books, he says. I will take care of it.

At the end of the month, he has managed to organise a book delivery system for all the Crime Alley kids, where they get school books and picture books and science books about dinosaurs and angient Egypt and all that. He tells his goons that for every kid that stays in school for the semester, he will give them a bonus.

It works wonders. The amount of kids dropping out from school gets cut by 60 percent just during the first semester. The book system grows, and suddenly Jason finds himself pushing some money to get the old local library running again, to make things a bit easier. He even hires some people to run the system for him. Suddenly, he is like actually employing people. He needs an accountant. He hires one for himself, and then another one to run other funds.

Things just keep escalating after that. Local parent group starts to have meetings in the new library, and they put up a babysitting club and start a clothes exhange program as well, where you can bring all the clothes that are too small for you, and people get to take what they need home. A soup kitchen starts as well, first because the kids need snacks, and then it grows so much that Jason needs to find a place for it to run effectively and safely. Many local restaurants get into it as well, and their business starts to rise as well, because people who are fed and have warm clothes have more time and energy to seek for jobs. Many of them are still employed within just Crime Alley, though, because jobs elsewhere require an adress, and some people don't have those.

Jason thinks about himself, after his parents died, on the streets, trying to survive, and thinks never again. He tells his accountant to start budgeting for housing.

He needs to hire more people for it. He needs to run his crime empire, after all, he doesn't have the time for this.

He has so many people working for him now. There are a few thugs that were previously employed by other Gotham Rogues coming in as well, because they have heard good things about the Red Hood. The other Rogues are in and out of the prison or Arkham all the time and the pay isn't reliable and there is a high chance that you will get beaten up by one of the bats as well, and they don't really get offered medical services by their bosses, you know?

There's another thing. Jason now has to organize people to get first aid-training. And also get some sort of vaccination program going. And also get everybody dental.

It's all getting too much for him, really. He doesn't even have a high school diploma.

He mentions this to one of his goons one night, because they said that he looked stressed. Don't worry boss! The goon tells him. We will take care of things, if you want to go back to school! It would be a good example, too, for the older kids, who are still dropping out more than the little kids, you know?

So Jason goes back to school. God he loves school. He barely even thinks about his revenge plan anymore, because he is busy running his programs and studying and making plans with his goons.

He gets his diploma and then starts a community college so people can get degrees.

He then runs into an entirely new problem. The people look up to him, especially the kids. And now the kids also want to help him.

Jason, the second Robin, the bird with clipped wings, tells them no. Absolutely not. You are kids, go back to school, your bedtime is at nine.

He cannot control the older teens, though. They just tell him to fuck off and accept the help. Now train us, so we can start running the more specialized missions too. You can't be the only person jumping on rooftops. If you don't train us, we will do it anyway, dipshit. We ain't scared of you.

And suddenly Jason has his own vigilante team with him. His workers are unionizing. Some of them are actually running for the city council to get things addressed that need to be done the legal way. Crime rates have dropped by 70 percent around Crime Alley.

They can't really call it Crime Alley anymore, can they? It's Park Row again.

The bats are extremely confused by the new team. The Hoods, they call themselves. All of them with a red bat painted on their chests and fighting in an eerily similar manner to them.

Jason is not there on Thursdays. He is busy getting his English degree.

[gffa]

Another "oh SHIT" moment I had while watching Revenge of the Sith in the theaters was that I always had trouble with Palpatine revealing himself to Anakin like that, it felt so clunky and awkward and I just chalked it up to George Lucas saying so himself, that he writes scenes to move the story along. I love his work, but he's not always the smoothest writer. "But why would Palpatine reveal himself like that? Just blurt it out, knowing that Anakin wants to kill him? Because Anakin very much did want to kill the Sith Lord they'd been searching for! Knowing that Anakin might very well go tell the Jedi about him and they'd have an excuse to fight him directly?? He's usually so much more careful than that! This is just silly!" But thinking about Palpatine's masterful manipulation of Anakin in the other scenes (his story about Plagueis being designed to crack Anakin's moral foundation, his forcing the Jedi to put Anakin on the Council knowing they would object and use it to spy on him because he's aware they don't trust him, he says right to Anakin that he knows they're plotting against him and asked Anakin to spy on him, he knew that was what was going to happen, his suggesting Anakin be the one to go to Utapau knowing that they would choose someone better suited to it, etc.) I had a sudden brick to the face moment. Oh, shit, wait, no, he wanted Anakin to go to the Jedi! He wanted them to try to arrest him and then fight him, so he could say they were planning a coup and to force Anakin into a chaotic moment where he had no time to think, only to react, knowing that he would side with Palpatine out of fear of losing Padme. EVERYTHING Palpatine does with Anakin in that movie is a manipulation to get him right where Darth Sidious wants him. Even the parts that seem like he's suddenly overplaying his hand, no, he's doing that on purpose because he's setting up the dominoes so he can knock them down. And he needs Anakin to at least not be against him because, as he says, Anakin will be more powerful than all of them one day. No one can stand against him if Anakin is either with him or off the board by staying behind at the Temple. Because Palpatine has to get rid of the Jedi, it's not just revenge, it's because they're the only ones who can actually rival him. He may be one of the strongest Force users in the galaxy, but even he couldn't stand against 10,000 of them, especially not if Mace may very well have actually won that fight without Anakin's interference. Whatever happened, he needed to force that confrontation and he did it in the way that appealed to Anakin to save him, because he knew the Jedi wouldn't let him live, and Anakin might fight him, but he wouldn't do so whole-heartedly if Palpatine was making sad grandpa eyes at him and saying, "I beg you, use my knowledge to save Padme." That reveal isn't a scene written just to move the movie along, it's another chess move by Palpatine to force the situation into the end game, now that Dooku and Grievous were dead and he wanted his Empire to rise now.

[tiramissyoucake]

Oooooo I have a viltrumite mark request! How would he and the reader handle having kids? As a viltrumite I assume it would be on the agenda, but how exactly do you think that would go?

Vomitted a small blurb. i apologize. But absolutely, I think Viltrumites want heirs. In this scenario where earth is destroyed, reader is obedient under Mark's affection because there's nowhere to go. It's either death in space or him.

So they'd change the subject or divert his attention to avoid talking about it, having kids was a huge thing and you don't fake-love him enough for that, he'd catch on to the stalling game at some point.

Reader manages to evade him in this blurb, lmk if you want another where Mark finally gets to mark it

Here you go:

"I need your answer, NOW." He'd demand with folded arms, staring down at you as your back was facing him in the bed, dressed in sleepwear while Mark stood above you, shirt was thrown aside, only in comfortable pants. "I asked you multiple times, and you keep changing the subject. When will you give me heirs?"

The way he phrased it disgusted you, maybe if you spoke honestly now, he'd understand. "I don't think I'm ready." You'd explain as you sat up, the sheets slipping down to your waist. "Mark, kids are... a huge responsibility, who's to say we can take care of them properly?"

He seemed to take the bait, sitting on the edge of the bed and facing you with a stoic expression. "I understand you're scared, but we have everything we need, a powerful empire, a comfy bed, clean clothes and warm meals, what more could a child need?"

He dismantled your arguments so impatiently and was closing you in a corner, you had to think of a way out. Fast.

"... y-your.. conquests." You mumbled, the excuse building itself in your head quickly. "... dear, you've been so absent and neglectful recently." A glimmer of hope appears as his expression shifts to guilt.

"Our children should have present parents, parents who aren't busy with invasions." You glance away, keeping your expression away from his eyes. "I know it's your responsibility, but I can't accept, it's not a good time."

His hands clutch the sheets, frustrated as you illustrated your point. "Sweetheart, is that how you really feel? Have I been neglectful?" He cups your cheek and makes you look at him, your eyes downcast as you nod, ensuring to stab the guilt into his heart as you pouted and looked at him with your most vulnerable, saddened, kicked-puppy look.

Mark sighs, hugging you closely, his bare skin warm against you as he caught a whiff of your scent; he's come to associate it with home. "... I'm sorry, I really am. You know I love you, don't you?"

"I love you too dear, but..." You didn't know if he was rambling or if he wanted a response, nonetheless you absentmindedly replied, he continued. "Listen, let's compromise; okay?"

Too much resistance would raise alarm, you listened. "I'll agree to postponing, I have a few more invasions to carry out for the next 2 months, that should be plenty of time for you to think, don't you agree?"

You bought yourself 2 months successfully, nodding twice, although his smile said he expected a yes after those 2 months.

"Good..." his defined hand trailed up your thigh gently, pushing up the cloth and revealing your skin. The mattress sunk down as he pulled you closely, his heartfelt smile turning into an lustful grin. "Now, come here. I missed you."

[specialagentartemis]

I get variations on this comment on my post about history misinformation all the time: "why does it matter?" Why does it matter that people believe falsehoods about history? Why does it matter if people spread history misinformation? Why does it matter if people on tumblr believe that those bronze dodecahedra were used for knitting, or that Persephone had a daughter named Mespyrian? It's not the kind of misinformation that actually hurts people, like anti-vaxx propaganda or climate change denial. It doesn't hurt anyone to believe something false about the past.

Which, one, thanks for letting me know on my post that you think my job doesn't matter and what I do is pointless, if it doesn't really matter if we know the truth or make up lies about history because lies don't hurt anyone. But two, there are lots of reasons that it matters.

It encourages us to distrust historians when they talk about other aspects of history. You might think it's harmless to believe that Pharaoh Hatshepsut was trans. It's less harmless when you're espousing that the Holocaust wasn't really about Jews because the Nazis "came for trans people first." You might think it's harmless to believe that the French royalty of Versailles pooped and urinated on the floor of the palace all the time, because they were asshole rich people anyway, who cares, we hate the rich here; it's rather less harmless when you decide that the USSR was the communist ideal and Good, Actually, and that reports of its genocidal oppression are actually lies.

It encourages anti-intellectualism in other areas of scholarship. Deciding based on your own gut that the experts don't know what they're talking about and are either too stupid to realize the truth, or maliciously hiding the truth, is how you get to anti-vaxxers and climate change denial. It is also how you come to discount housing-first solutions for homelessness or the idea that long-term sustained weight loss is both biologically unlikely and health-wise unnecessary for the majority of fat people - because they conflict with what you feel should be true. Believing what you want to be true about history, because you want to believe it, and discounting fact-based corrections because you don't want them to be true, can then bleed over into how you approach other sociological and scientific topics.

How we think about history informs how we think about the present. A lot of people want certain things to be true - this famous person from history was gay or trans, this sexist story was actually feminist in its origin - because we want proof that gay people, trans people, and women deserve to be respected, and this gives evidence to prove we once were and deserve to be. But let me tell you a different story: on Thanksgiving of 2016, I was at a family friend's house and listening to their drunk conservative relative rant, and he told me, confidently, that the Roman Empire fell because they instituted universal healthcare, which was proof that Obama was destroying America. Of course that's nonsense. But projecting what we think is true about the world back onto history, and then using that as recursive proof that that is how the world is... is shoddy scholarship, and gets used for topics you don't agree with just as much as the ones you do. We should not be encouraging this, because our politics should be informed by the truth and material reality, not how we wish the past proved us right.

It frequently reinforces "Good vs. Bad" dichotomies that are at best unhelpful and at worst victim-blaming. A very common thread of historical misinformation on tumblr is about the innocence or benevolence of oppressed groups, slandered by oppressors who were far worse. This very frequently has truth to it - but makes the lies hard to separate out. It often simplifies the narrative, and implies that the reason that colonialism and oppression were bad was because the victims were Good and didn't deserve it... not because colonialism and oppression are bad. You see this sometimes with radical feminist mother goddess Neolithic feminist utopia stuff, but you also see it a lot regarding Native American and African history. I have seen people earnestly argue that Aztecs did not practice human sacrifice, that that was a lie made up by the Spanish to slander them. That is not true. Human sacrifice was part of Aztec, Maya, and many Central American war/religious practices. They are significantly more complex than often presented, and came from a captive-based system of warfare that significantly reduced the number of people who got killed in war compared to European styles of war that primarily killed people on the battlefield rather than taking them captive for sacrifice... but the human sacrifice was real and did happen. This can often come off with the implications of a 'noble savage' or an 'innocent victim' that implies that the bad things the Spanish conquistadors did were bad because the victims were innocent or good. This is a very easy trap to fall into; if the victims were good, they didn't deserve it. Right? This logic is dangerous when you are presented with a person or group who did something bad... you're caught in a bind. Did they deserve their injustice or oppression because they did something bad? This kind of logic drives a lot of transphobia, homophobia, racism, and defenses of Kyle Rittenhouse today. The answer to a colonialist logic of "The Aztecs deserved to be conquered because they did human sacrifice and that's bad" is not "The Aztecs didn't do human sacrifice actually, that's just Spanish propaganda" (which is a lie) it should be "We Americans do human sacrifice all the god damn time with our forever wars in the Middle East, we just don't call it that. We use bullets and bombs rather than obsidian knives but we kill way, way more people in the name of our country. What does that make us? Maybe genocide is not okay regardless of if you think the people are weird and scary." It becomes hard to square your ethics of the Innocent Victim and Lying Perpetrator when you see real, complicated, individual-level and group-level interactions, where no group is made up of members who are all completely pure and good, and they don't deserve to be oppressed anyway.

It makes you an unwitting tool of the oppressor. The favorite, favorite allegation transphobes level at trans people, and conservatives at queer people, is that we're lying to push the Gay Agenda. We're liars or deluded fools. If you say something about queer or trans history that's easy to debunk as false, you have permanently hurt your credibility - and the cause of queer history. It makes you easy to write off as a liar or a deluded fool who needs misinformation to make your case. If you say Louisa May Alcott was trans, that's easy to counter with "there is literally no evidence of that, and lots of evidence that she was fine being a woman," and instantly tanks your credibility going forward, so when you then say James Barry was trans and push back against a novel or biopic that treats James Barry as a woman, you get "you don't know what you're talking about, didn't you say Louisa May Alcott was trans too?" TERFs love to call trans people liars - do not hand them ammunition, not even a single bullet. Make sure you can back up what you say with facts and evidence. This is true of homophobes, of racists, of sexists. Be confident of your facts, and have facts to give to the hopeful and questioning learners who you are relating this story to, or the bigots who you are telling off, because misinformation can only hurt you and your cause.

It makes the queer, female, POC, or other marginalized listeners hurt, sad, and betrayed when something they thought was a reflection of their own experiences turns out not to be real. This is a good response to a performance art piece purporting to tell a real story of gay WWI soldiers, until the author revealed it as fiction. Why would you want to set yourself up for disappointment like that? Why would you want to risk inflicting that disappointment and betrayal on anyone else?

It makes it harder to learn the actual truth.

Historical misinformation has consequences, and those consequences are best avoided - by checking your facts, citing your sources, and taking the time and effort to make sure you are actually telling the truth.

[dilf-docs]

Light Up My Life (So Blind I Can't See)

pedro pascal x younger fem!reader

summary: pedro pascal in cannes breaks the internet, only rivaled by the mystery figure next to him at the airport. oh, that's you. oh. well, that wasn't part of the plan. oops.

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap, smut, begging kink, lwk praise kink, choking, fingering, creampie, hurt/comfort, fluff, cannes!pedro (yes that's a warning)

word count: 5,984 words

side note: not to be that bitch but i think pedro in cannes 2025 will be my roman empire. also, shot out to secret dating (getting outed after upsi), love that shit!!!! based on this request by my lovely fren :)

A few days ago, you had been watching a movie marathon in the comfort of your home.

"I can't believe it, you said you liked it!"

"I never said that. I said it looked interesting" he yawns. You narrow your eyes. "Sleep deprivation" he clarifies, as if reading your mind. "But, you chose it"

"Yes, because you let me" you're quick to counter.

"Yes, because we always do what you want"

Even in the distance, he finds ways to tease you.

"Not true. If it was, I would be there, with you. You know I love Marvel"

He laughs. "It's rare to hear that nowadays, less sounding so sure. You're an endangered species, baby"

You gasp. "I'm not that much of a fan"

"Not a lot of people watch a six hour livestream of chairs"

"Five" you correct, "and I did just to see if you'd show up!"

As if, gut feeling aside, he hadn't told you before.

"Alright, my bad. Five. Still, my point stands"

"So does mine. If Coco is there, why can't I be?"

"Do you happen to know hairstyling? I thought your thing was marketing"

"Oh, shut up"

Stanley Tucci briefly shows up on screen. Not that you already know, given the amount of times you've watched it.

"Are you sure it doesn't bother you?" he asks. Could refer to a lot of things.

It's the crack of dawn.

"It's the only time you can give me" you answer instead.

He makes a little pout, making you giggle. The movie keeps playing in your laptop.

"I'm sorry you have to meet me like this"

"Please, stop" at his bad joke. "The lack of sleep is showing"

He just laughs. "I can't wait for you to come"

(Texted you places of London you wouldn't be able to visit. It's just a stopover, you said, yet he insisted on sending links of London's best attractions for tourists)

"I know" you admit, softer. "Me either"

You yawn. So much for a movie you aren't watching.

"Won't it be too tiring?"

Your amazing boyfriend, ever so caring.

"Pedrito" he sighs at his name on your lips, little and a warning. "I'll be fine. Besides, I already dowloaded the movie's soundtrack to keep me company"

Pedro rolls his eyes. "You really enjoy this movie, don't you?"

You take a brief glimpse at the forgotten movie, playing on your shared screen, then back at his face.

A bit tired, eye bags more pronounced. The sleep thing was true. Still, he was the same in many other ways. His broad frame, sharp jawline, grey hair now dyed yet stubborn enough to show in some edges and over his face, in a beard that would scratch against your face when he kissed you, because he liked being close. Too close. You can still smell him, even if he hasn't been in your apartment for over a month now. As if his smell, him being intoxicantingly close, had impregnated on your skin. Another part of his to be yours.

"It's Madonna" like that's enough of a reason.

It shouldn't be this distracting. Singing Who's That Girl after arriving in France isn't a special thing, but to you, lyrics blasting through your airbuds that Pedro hates except when you offer a song and he listens, because he always listens, holds something sacred the moment your feet stretch and you're back on land again, yet people speak French instead of English and time has warped your sense of reality again.

Pedro had checked on you all the time. That was distracting. Some texts during the flight, insisting on buying Wi-Fi on the plane as if he was a millennial who couldn't survive without internet, saying what he couldn't live without was writing to you. That's a lie. You caught him on TikTok sometimes. Over his shoulder, because you couldn't sit together. Liar, you sent. You know he saw it by the way his shoulders wiggled and he covered his mouth to stiffle a giggle over the silence in the cabin. Nevertheless, he continued his little check-ups on you, as if you were a kid.

(Him: in a way, you are. You: Pedro, I'm almost thirty. Him: That's as ambiguous as me coming to Cannes. You: Your fans already suspect. Him: They're smart. You: They are. Him: Listening to the soundtrack? You: Tenth round. Him: You're insane. Insufferable too. You: It's only about forty minutes. This is a seven hour flight. Besides, you love me. Him: I do. Now stop peeking over my shoulder. You: Stop watching TikToks then, you addict!)

Somehow, lost in the music and happy feet struting towards movies, bright sun and the close yet faraway sea, you take too many of those. That wasn't the plan. Don't sit together, don't look in his direction. Over and over again. Precautions. To you, rules. Memorized them. It's not every day you board a plane, but the others are similar, in a way. It was a small price to pay for dating him.

Sometimes you mind.

(You: I miss my personal pillow. Him: I ain't got a belly anymore. You: I'm aware. I was talking about other huge things. Your biceps. HUGE. The one's Julie will show to the world in a day. Those HUGE biceps. I want to bite them. Him: You're a freak. You: Blame Kevin Feige. Him: Not the guy who lost 25 pounds?)

Sometimes you don't.

(You: Come to think of it, you do snore a bit. Him: But I thought you missed me? You break my heart, y/n)

Bump.

The defeaning sound. Coco and his bodyguard glance. But Pedro? he looks. At you.

The internet has rules too. They're both, funnily, f-rules: never forgive, never forget.

His expression is of surprise. They don't forget. His wide eyes. No, that's beyond a surprised face. That's a knowing face. They don't forgive. The subtle difference. He knows you.

Seconds, probably. He goes back to stoic mode. You hear his voice as he chats with Coco. His voice is tight, barely noticeable to anyone but you; know him better than you know yourself. But not today, when he's a supposed stranger and you're another passenger of this plane. An insignificant dot in a crowd. You walk further and avoid his gaze, pretending to search for imaginary stains in your passport, as if you hadn't make the worst mistake of your life.

Days ago, sitting in your bed, you were just another light in the vast Californian sea of houses and salt air. Now, everyone knows he's your something.

Makes sense.

The slip-ups on interviews, his comments about Materialists, his behavior on that interview with Dakota, the mysterious silhoutte that ressembled a woman but was always too blurry and far yet close to identify.

Unrecognizable.

Because you were a nobody. Made a line to get coffee, nothing about you guaranteeing any special treatment. Worked in a publicity agency from Mondays to Fridays, Saturdays if someone called in sick. Took your dog, who complained when the LA sun hit his tiny paws too much, out on walks: Toto, the little cairn terrier who was now under the care of your brother and his girlfriend because of your trip. Was photographed because you wanted and not because they had to, the hidden cameras capturing every move of yours.

That was the privilege of anonymity.

But that luck, like everything else in the world, seemed to have run out.

Now you sit on the hotel room, phone blowing up with messages, mentions, and emails. Funny thing is, despite already having your Instagram account leaked, you were still a ghost. A who?. Just a face Pedro had looked too much for it to be a simple passerby.

You sniffle as Coco brushes your hair, more to calm you than to fix it for the event.

You look through the mirror, not at you, but at the bag dangling from it, and sniffle again. The dress hangs on the closet as Coco gives you a sympathetic look and Lux squeezes your shoulder gently.

"Maybe we can still work it out" you manage to choke up, hoarse from useless crying. So hopeful, as Pedro would say.

The original plan, before the little "bump" on the road, was to attend Cannes while disguised, which meant sneaking as a guest, skipping the whole red carpet.

But now people knew who you were. Or how you looked, at least.

"Not to be a killjoy, but even if the French press is oblivious, I'm sure the internet will catch up as soon as the live stream for Eddington's red carpet starts broadcasting" Lux comments.

"They don't know your name, yet I'm sure they've already memorized your face. You're all over my Instagram" Coco adds, smiling sadly. "Your face is not to be forgotten"

You smile weakly, still feeling bad.

"I'm sure we can come up with something" Lux offers.

"I don't know what to do" you sniffle, looking back at the dress, one your budget could've bought but leave you on a tightrope for the rest of the month. To your boyfriend, it was barely a tickle on his finances. He insisted on buying it after your bright, unable to hide, smile. Wear it on a special day, and that is today.

Was.

"Come with me"

The three of your turn around. You'd recognize that voice even if you were deaf.

"¿Te volviste loco?" Lux asks, perplexed. (have you gone crazy?)

"Un poco" he replies in a Spanish that needs to be practiced a tad bit more, "por ella, sí" (a bit, yes. for her)

"What's going on?" you ask, wiping your tears.

Pedro kneels down in front of you, already dressed in an all black suit. If you weren't on the verge of sobbing for the umpteenth time, you'd tear that suit in two.

"You look good" you sniffle.

He smiles, softly. "I know"

"I love those glasses. They're my favorites"

He smiles again, adjusting them. "I know"

"Se acabó el tiempo, tortolitos" Lux jokes. (time's up, lovebirds)

"Yeah. Are we going to ignore the elephant in the room?" Coco asks, eyes widened in exasperation.

"I'm taking her with me"

"To the red carpet?" his sister asks, surprised.

"No, to fucking Wendy's. Of course, Lux. I'm taking her to the red carpet" he then gives his sister a glance. "You look gorgeous, by the way"

"I know" she flips her hair.

"Yeah, she's beautiful and so are you" Coco interrupts, then points to you. "Is that how you plan on solving this?"

Pedro nods, solemly.

"Listen, it's just a matter of hours before people connect the dots. They already have your Instagram and name. What's next? Your job, your dog?"

You gasp. "I have a whole dump of Toto on my feed!"

"Your account is private though" Lux drops.

"Still!" you panic. "What do I do?"

"Come with me" Pedro insists. "Harm's already done. What would change if we walked down a piece of red clothing?"

"Not even Rooney Mara will walk along Joaquin"

"So? We're not them" he kneels in front of your face again. Wipes a stray tear and grabs your hand. Squeezes it, like fresh oranges for a juice, because he knows you like the gesture. Need it. "And Emma is taking her husband, so"

You only sigh, unconvinced.

"Come with me" he repeats again, like a mantra. Or a prayer. Maybe hoping you'd accept.

"And let the whole world know?"

"Precisely" he smiles, cheeky. "They know some things already. We're just advancing the process for them"

Coco sighs. "At the speed of a bullet train"

"Whatever" Pedro drops. Then, looks at you. "We like it fast, don't we, baby?"

You can only blush in response.

"She'll come with me, then. We'll ride in the car behind" Ullrich sentences.

"No" his grip on your arm is strong but not brusing. Firm, as his position. He gives you a little tug, as to pull you in. Needless to say, you felt like a ragdoll. "She'll come with me"

Fighting Pedro was like trying to tame a tide.

In the end, somehow, he'd managed to rope you into the chaos of the red carpet, black limusines and flashing cameras and inside his car.

You weren't sure. Back in school, you weren't disliked or bullied, but it's not like you were popular either. You had friends, but would rather be alone at times, be it at the library or just sketching at a lonely bench in the park. There was something precious in the silence most people didn't appreciate; you did.

So, to say you where overwhelmed at the bright lights and constant yelling for Pedro was an understatement.

But, if your boyfriend dressed in an all black suit didn't scream Look at me! energy enough, there was you.

It was quick. Everything seemed to be so as of late. The cameras and press, waiting fans, yelled for Pedro, only to then find out he wasn't only here with his sister, but another woman. The airport woman. A loud point of a finger and the whole world knows you're back.

That he isn't your something. No, Pedro is more.

He's your fucking partner.

And it's so obvious, by the way he looks at you fondly. It different from his sister. This isn't that type of unconditional supporting love, but a stronger one. Consuming. One that speaks of devotion. He looks at you. Admires you. Like a painting. As if you had all the answers in the world.

You say hi to his co-stars, maybe a bit too excited to greet Austin Butler. Pedro isn't happy but he's not putting a jealous fit for the cameras. Not when he's busy throwing charming smiles and flexing that body he's worked so hard for under the summer sun.

The world talks. It's all over the news. Your smile, growing only wider when Pedro is near you, hand on the small of your back, right where the dress leaves inviting skin for the rest to see. He introduces you to anyone who wants to listen, always talking, because he's such a yapper. A loud laugher too, and even if it's not with you, you laugh with him, too contagious for you to question it. Posing with the rest of the cast as you wait by the sidelines, taking some pictures for yourself. You see the bee, trying to meddle, imposing and nosy, and feel a little sorry for it, despite Emma's face and the guys' laugh. In a way, you see yourself in the poor insect: taking space where it shouldn't, captured under the lights.

Comments are deceiving, yet there's a movie playing and then an awkward, way too long, standing ovation for you to care. You do. But you try not to, rather focusing on the event and feeling proud of Pedro. You clap and do a little too loud sound that vagely resembles a cheer. Flustered, you find out later on that the video made it out to Twitter. Strangely, even if your sudden appearance in Pedro's life, or rather public life, is well received under that post. Maybe life wasn't so cruel.

"You're not wearing that"

Life is cruel.

"Why not? You knew it beforehand. Said it was your favorite"

"I changed my mind. It's too revealing"

"What are you? Seventy?"

"The age gap is the other way around, grandpa"

And then the fucker flexes his arms. Worst, not even on purpose. Putting on glasses and a pink soft sweater shouldn't be this hot.

"Don't worry, baby. Don't break a sweat. I'll take the grandma sweater off when we get there"

Your cheeks heat up. "That was on purpose"

He offers a cheeky grin.

"Maybe"

Today is the photocall, and if yesterday's outfit put you in your knees, this one sends you straight to the ground. Full force. In a tank top and black pants paired with spiky shoes, his purpose was to serve and to kill you.

He goes again for the round of photos and such, you trailing behind like a lost puppy. Everyone assumes, yet no one asks.

She, the airport woman, now y/n.

(Can't say it out loud either. Not even you, yet, as if the knowing smiles and stolen not so subtle glances hadn't given you away)

You enjoyed this limbo. Of belonging not more inside closed doors and ambiguous coincidences, but on tabloids and loud shutters of camera. You liked the attention but not the label. It was good to see them scrambling, begging for details. Your social media had filled with requests, and even at times, your phone crashed.

You sat in a corner, watching the press. A few clicks here and there, Pedro drinking water and making it sexy (the size difference of his hand and the tiny bottle? You need to be locked up), questions, some about the movie, others about working with Ari Aster and then, awkward ones Pedro handled with grace. He spoke with such reverence, care and thoughtfulness, you can't help but feel your legs weak. You knew he was smart, well read and opinionated, but hearing him was another thing. So lost in this, you don't hear the next question.

"I know no one else is brave enough to ask" the reporter laughs nervously, "but I need to know"

Pedro senses immediately. When he glances briefly at you, hidden on a corner, you know this is about you.

"I don't think you do" he laughs, but there's a certain edge on his tone.

"It's fine if you don't want to answer, but me and everyone else on this room, hell, world!, wants to know who the woman at the airport is"

Before he adds about your quiet but strong presence on both days, Pedro cuts in:

"Is that how you call my girlfriend?"

The uproar is so loud, even Joaquin, who seemed to be on a separate train of thought, jumps on his seat. More questions follow, ones he doesn't answer. Out of boredom or to keep. Some things are meant to be like this.

Tabloids go crazy with the news. You haven't even left the place and phone blows up even more. It will explode at this point. Worse, it's only been minutes. An hour later, it's still as bad. Well, bad is a way of saying it: what you mean is nosy press and the promise of a quiet vacation ruined.

"I don't think it'll ever be quiet again"

You sigh softly, leaning on the door of the car taking you to the hotel.

"It's an opportunity" you reply just to feel the silence.

"Ever the marketer, you bussiness woman"

Even then, he manages to rob from you a faint smile.

At least they don't know where you're staying. That would be awful. You can't imagine having troubles to get out of a car.

"Something's in your mind" as your heels click against cold marble floors.

A shit ton.

You. The fast changes. Impending. Privacy gone. Scrapes of your life out in the open for the world to see. Your relationship and this new stage you're in.

Him. His warm eyes. Firm hand to secure you. Those circles on your back that calmed you down. It's a quiet I love you. Reassurance you don't say but need. I'm here. Pedro won't let you take the fall alone.

But, also, him.

With his body that had been driving you wild. Intoxicating cologne. A small cut abov his beard, still fresh. Thick glasses. Long legs. Strong arms. His charisma. Confidence. A killer smile. Warm eyes. Kind. He laughed too much and filled the gap of your stolen breaths, waiting.

"Want me to tell you?"

Smug grin you could wipe off his face.

"I'm all ears"

He too has noticed you. Short glances. Parted lips. So plump he can still taste them. The lipstick inside his cheek, over his white pristine smile if he hadn't licked it off. A part of you in him. Another. Your body, always so perfect, but in that dress he bought? He steals a look now. He definitely pictured you in it, yet this is better. How you own it. The cameras aren't flashing your way, but their eyes trail your every move. You had that in you: a beauty that wasn't loud, but made sure to be noticed. Like the air: not seen, just felt. Sometimes light, others heavy. He feels light-headed. Today you chose another set he bought you. In away, Pedro feels as if he owns you. But a tender belonging, of soul to soul, possessive, yet not as an object; he was raised right. Although, after your giggles with Austin...

"Pedro..." all sweet voice. He likes his name a lot. More if it's from you.

Your silence is both punishing and teasing.

"Tell me what you want" he insists.

"You know me" you play coy.

"I wanna hear it" desperate.

You cave in. Then, lean. His hairs raise in a prickly trepidation.

"They know too much" he feels your pressure, fears. But also, he feels your hot breath and short gasps, as if you can't hold this any longer.

"I'm sorry"

You shake your head with parted lips and hooded eyes, blood rushing to your cheeks.

"Show me something only I'll know"

Pedro's control shatteres at your words, a low, animalistic growl rumbling up from his chest.

"You're gonna make me fuck you in here" he spills the lewd confession.

"You're going to get us kicked out of this hotel"

"Can I at least kiss you on the elevator?" he pleads. Puppy sad brown eyes and all.

"Maybe"

In an instant, he takes your wrist in his grip, pulling you stumbling to the dinging door.

"Be patient" you mumble as his lips ghost over your neck. You glance at the numbers.

"We're on the thirty-two floor"

"Patience is a virtue"

"I don't care"

As soon as the door opens, he strides out with desperate, urgent steps.

"This isn't our floor"

"Fuck!"

The short time from the twenty-four to your actual floor felt interminable, every second stretching into an eternity as the weight of your shared desire hung heavy in the air.

"Jesus" you mutter.

"That good or bad?" he asks, mouth busy and voice sort of muffled against the flush skin of your neck.

"Good" you manage to mumble, hands on his hair.

Alright, you miss the messy curls but you can see them insist on the top of his hair, now starting to get sweaty, Coco's work going to waste.

"Then let's give them more to talk"

As soon as you crossed the hallway, Pedro kicks the door shut behind both of you. He's got your back pressed against it, roughly, as if he couldn't wait a bit longer, mouth taking yours in a hungry kiss.

His hands roam your body, gripping, squeezing, tugging at any little space of honeyed skin he can, taking off the buttons with a feverish desperation. You swear one of them pops, if your ears don't deceive you.

"You bought that dress. I liked it"

He rolls his eyes. "I can buy you a new one. A whole closet"

"But I liked this one" you pout.

He kisses your pouty lips. "Then I shall move the earth to get the same one again for you. Now... where were we?"

He's back to kissing you roughly, and soon, your brain is too fuzzy and lost in the force of his lips on yours, that the cameras and late interview are soon forgotten in the back of your mind.

"I'm going to ruin you" he says against your mouth, voice ragged with lust. You let out a little moan as you squirm under his insistent touch. "So hard, so deep, you won't forget who you belong to. Never"

You should feel threatened. Scared, even. But no, down there? You're a wet mess.

The dress falls to the floor with a soft thud. At least he didn't rip it.

"No bra, baby?" he asks, voice thick. You swallow harshly and nod. "Bad girl. Such'a tease"

His mouth drops then to your chest, lips kissing and teeth grazing the soft swell of your breasts. His tongue runs cold through a shiver, moving to your nipples, taking the hardened bud into his mouth and sucking hard. You feel his hands then over the rosy flesh, grabbing what he can, which, given the size of his hands, it's a lot.

"All this for me?"

You nod, lost in the grunts, sweat, his mouth and touch.

"That's right. Mine. You're mine, baby. Just mine. Say it. Tell me you are"

"Yes!" you gasp. "I'm yours, Pedro. All yours. Only yours"

He groans into your mouth as your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him closer. There's too a low sound coming from his throat, probably an approval sound of some sorts. His hands now slide down to your hips, gripping the free skin until he lifts you up. It's always like this. Now, you wrap your legs around his waist, tiny ankles locking at the small of his broad back.

Finally, he takes you to the bed in the middle of the room, all while never breaking the kiss or stopping his greedy hands from touching you. You whine and squirm, weak under his spell.

"So antsy" he softly says.

"I think you meant your hands"

With a little laugh, he lays you down on the bed, body hovering over you, pinning you to the mattress. Before, he'd take his time to let go of the shirt, undressing slowly and almost reluctantly. Now, he takes no time in stripping off his shirt, revealing the toned body under an already revealing shirt. You love Pedro, in all of his forms and shapes, but weren't you incredibly turned on like a horny teenager for this new body? Maybe it was his new energy, how it oozed off of him in the form of flexing biceps, slim figure, toned chest and stomach and disarming smile. He was a menace and knew it, by the smirk visible even through the soft moonlight filtering through the window.

"We should've turned the lights"

"I like you like this" needy fingers now turn tender as he traces soft hearts on your face, the rough skin brushing your soft flushed own.

"At least the nightstand one. It's yellow"

"No"

He leans down to claim your mouth again, or just shut you up. It's helpful, anyway, as he kisses you until you're breathless, lips swollen and tingling.

"Someone's insatiable today" you croak out.

"For you? Always" he replies, fingers finding the damp patch in your panties, rubbing over it, thick fingers pressing against your clothed pussy. "It's never enough, baby"

He lets out a little grunt.

"Fuck, you're so wet" voice rough with lust and surprise. "Julie's outfit turned you on that much?"

"Even the hideous ones did" you whimper. "Imagine this one"

"I chose some of those, you know" he sounds a bit offended.

"Whatever. I'm happy with this Cannes run. I'll send some flowers or take her to lunch"

"So caring" he mocks.

"For dressing my man like a complete eye candy? Hell, yes"

"No one uses that term nowadays" Pedro interjects.

"Here you go again. You're my biggest hater. Shut up and just-"

You turn desperate at the pressure his fingers apply on your clothed slit. He smirks at that, eyes dark.

"You want this, don't you? You want me inside, filling you, stretching you around my cock?"

"Yes" you whimper again.

"Say it" he demands.

Never would you beg for something, but goddamn, didn't this man reduce you to a puddle of moans and pleasure? Your common sense, no, normal functioning, basic even, flew out of the window with just a kiss.

"I need you"

His fingers press even deeper, and the pulsing light pain sensation drives you wild, making you whimper again.

"Pedro-" you whine, hips rocking up against his hand, seeking more of that delicious friction.

He clicks his tongue. "Manners, baby"

You squirm, violently and desperate. He really was going to make you beg for it.

"Please, Pedro"

"That better" fingers slightly more insistent. "One last time?"

Fuck dignity, man.

"Please, Pedro. I need you. I need you so badly" you choke out.

He grins like a schoolboy, eyes dark. "Good girl"

He rewards you by making a quick work of your panties, practically tearing them off and tossing them aside. His fingers then were on your bare skin, drumming on sensitive thighs.

"Don't tease" you plead through gritted teeth.

"So impatient" he tsks. "Want it now, baby?"

You nod, feverish.

"Because you asked"

"Because we always do what I want" you choke.

His eyes shine dark. "Easy, brat"

He strokes through the slick folds of your, pussy, pushing two long, thick fingers deep inside you, curling them just right, hitting that well known spot that made you see stars.

"So tight" his voice comes out strained. "So fucking tight and hot and perfect"

Pedro pumps his fingers in and out, thumb rubbing tight circles over your clit. His mouth drops to your breast again, suckling hard, biting just on the edge and then licking to soothe the sting. You feel heat building, the pressure coiling tighter and tighter in your core. Your hands scrabble at his back, nails digging into his skin, as to urge him.

And then he pulls away, leaving you empty and aching. You whimper at the loss, making him chuckle a bit.

"Calm down, baby. I ain't going anywhere"

He starts undressing what's left of his clothes, and if you liked the outfit, him naked takes the win. His cock springs free, long and hard, the thick head already glistening.

"See?"

He settles himself between your thighs, the thick length of his cock nudging against your slick folds. He looks down at you, eyes intense under the moonlight. His large, calloused hands slid under your hips, gripping them hard enough to leave bruises.

If spilling it in the interview wasn't enough, he was going to mark you, claim you, make you his.

"I'm going to fuck you now" Pedro announces, voice low with lust. "I'm going to fuck you hard and deep, just like you need. Like we both do"

With that, he thrust forward, pushing past your entrance. You gasp at the intrusion, feeling your pussy stretch around him, accommodating his size. It always happens; he's just big like that. He pauses, letting you adjust to the stretch, before pushing forward again, sinking deeper inside.

So thoughtful.

"Fuck, you're so tight " he said through gritted teeth. "So fucking tight and hot and perfect. You feel incredible, y/n"

He starts to move then, pulling out slowly before thrusting back in. Each push brings him deeper, until he was buried to the hilt inside. He sets a hard, fast pace, the bed creaking beneath with the force of his thrusts. The room filled with the sound of their mingled moans and gasps, sweat pooling like a second skin.

And if things couldn't get any better...

One hand came up to your throat, long fingers wrapping around it. He didn't squeeze, not yet, just rested them there, feeling the flutter of your pulse.

"Nervous?" his thumb brushes over your racing heartbeat, a teasing promise of what was to come. "C'mon. Don't get shy on me, baby. I know you like that"

(You did. He was new to this, mainly going off some spaking and dirty talk. Now, he seemed to be into it, if not more, as you. It was always exciting when he did it, never telling you before. If you didn't want to, he stopped. You know he would, at least, because so far, you've never told him to)

You nod, walls clench around him.

"As much as you like feeling my cock stretching you open? Filling you up? You like knowing I'm the only man to be inside this perfect little cunt?"

"Yes" you gasp. "God, yes. No one else, but you, Pedro. Only you."

A wicked grin spreads across his face and he tightens his grip on your throat, just a little. Enough to make you feel it.

"That's right, baby. This cunt belong to me now. Your body. You. You belong to me"

He starts to thrust harder, faster, headboard slamming against the wall with each snap.

Pedro feels you starting to tighten around him, breath coming in short, sharp, desperate gasps.

He knew you were close.

He leans down then, his rough stubble rasping against the smooth skin of your neck as he growled in your ear.

"Be a good girl and come for me" he urges. "Let me feel this pretty pussy spasm around my cock. Feel it come undone on my dick"

His hips never slow, pounding into you with deep, powerful thrusts. The grip on your throat tightened just a touch more, fingers pressing into the soft flesh. Not enough to cut off your air, but enough to make you light-headed.

"I'm going to fill this cunt with my cum. I'm going to pump you so full of it, you'll be dripping for days"

You let out a choked moan at his filthy promise, back arching off the bed. He could feel her starting to convulse around him, her slick walls fluttering and clenching. He was so close too, his balls drawing up tight against his body as the pressure built.

"Come now. Let me feel you scream my name as I fill you up. Let the whole damn city know who you belong to"

With a final, brutal thrust, he buries himself to the hilt inside you. At the same time, his fingers tightened around your throat, squeezing just as your orgasm crashes over. You let out a strangled cry, body shaking and shuddering beneath him as you come apart.

"Fuck, y/n. Fuck"

With a load groan, he comes too, cock pulsing and jerking inside you as he pumps you full of his hot seed. Spurt after spurt, until he sees your stomach bloat lightly and you feel it sloshing inside you like the distant waves on the beach.

He collapses on top of you with a loud sigh, weight pressing you into the mattress, his cock still buried deep inside your fluttering heat; it's still dripping.

You both lay there for a long moment, chests heaving, bodies slick with sweat, as you catch your breaths. Finally, he lifted his head to look at you, his eyes soft.

"You're incredible" voice raw. "I can't believe you're mine"

You giggle, feeling his arms wrap around you, pulling you close as you snuggle against his neck. He can feel your soft, warm breath tickling on his skin. A sense of peace and contentment settles over him, and he sighs happily.

"Yours" and a quick tired sloppy kiss. "You drained me, thought"

"If you weren't such a tease..."

You playfully swat him, weakly.

"Shh, just relax" he murmurs, one hand stroking slowly up and down your back. "You did so good, baby. So fucking perfect. As always"

You can't helo but say: "And now the whole world knows it"

He captures your lips in a slow, deep kiss. It was different from the hungry, desperate kisses before. This one was tender, almost sweet. Full of a quiet, growing affection.

"It's okay" so quiet you would miss it. "I've got you, baby. And I'm not going anywhere"

You make a soft, contented lazy sound as you snuggle even closer, fingers playing with the short hairs at the nape of his neck. He feels your body starting to give up.

"Promise?"

He tightens his arms around you, holding you like he means it. You are the most precious thing in the world to him, but he doesn't want to tell you. He wants you to know. So he holds you tightly, like a vow. Something to keep. Something worth.

"Promise"

cr: divider @kodaswrld / gif: @a7estrellas / dts: @io12n

[shapelytimber]

Ok hear me out.......... wlw Wilhuff Tarkin and Orson Krennic-

the dynamic very much is unhinged creative vs rigid control freak in a context of evil bureaucracy- and personally the context is why I love to read stories with imperials jdjdkd nothing is more crack cocaine literature for me than to make drama in a space office filled with awful people

More flavor text and me trying to sell you on why this ship of two truly terrible people is great below vvv

For Krennic, lean more into the evil genius artist. She's been up for 46 hours straight drawing schematics, she's rambling about incomprehensible shit, her only meals have been cigarettes and energy drinks, she's so full of herself she might one day think she's god, she's gonna die by 60. She doesn't care much about the politics of the empire, but they don't bother her either. She works for the imperials because they have a lot funds to give to engineers willing to build them a battle station the size of a moon capable of blowing up planets. Before that she worked on a lot a architectures on imperial center/Coruscant.

The imperial uniforms are a bit boring- so I'm taking full advantage of the fact Krennic is more of an engineer/architect to tweak her uniform a bit (and the cape was already not respecting regulations sooooo) For Tarkin I'm keeping it tho, this woman won't be caught dead without it.

For Tarkin, lean less into the whole buff survivalist aspect- she very much was in her youth, but she *is* a 65 year old woman based on *Peter Cushing*, and has been in a very high and prestigious position within the empire for the past 20 years. She still as an extensive knowledge on how to survive in nature, and fight with her bare hands or a knife, but that doesn't come up very often in her line of work anymore. She still killed a space bear unharmed when she was like 17 tho. She hates chaos and developed the main philosophy that drove the empire to this day : to govern with fear and impose order. She is a bloodthirsty woman in her sixties, with a never ending hunger for power, currently cheating on her wife with a coworker she hates.

They both love the death star more than they tolerate each other, but they did end up bonding over plotting the demise of one coworker they couldn't stand and digging out rebel spies. Make no mistake tho, this is very much a love triangle/trouple between two women and a giant battle station.

In the end, Tarkin killed Krennic by shooting her from orbit with the death star, the project was finally finished, she didn't need her anymore and she might have gotten in the way of her control of the station.

Tarkin dies a few days later during the battle of Yavin, along the death star, not willing to back down in her moments of glory.

PS : a lot of this is inspired by the fic "Propagating structure" by oneinspats ! it's what made me like and understand this pairing, and is truly a great work of fiction. I really think this fic is a masterful work when it comes to expending the character of Krennic, and extrapolating on existing things. Exploring his more creative side, his passion for his work, his truly abysmal lifestyle, giving him a hatred of nature and a background as an architect on Coruscant. While also keeping his horrific aspects, like reading his internal (or external) monologues sometimes makes my skin crawl with how disgusting his ideas are and how deep they run, but making him an interesting and compelling protag for the story. While all of it is surrounded by this delicious dramatic irony, because we know that no matter how hard they try to scheme (or fuck), the death star will blow up and it's incredible.

[goldfades]

𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆 ─ PB⁵

౨ৎ ─ summary | request -> "STOP IM SO HAPPY UR MAKING PAIGE X WBB MEDIA MANAGER A SERIES BC I SENT IN THE FIRST REQUEST 😽😽😽 fic with paige and reader being out and a little wasted and getting interviewed by fellow college student about their relationship and working together etc. (could end in smut if u like ;)) // inspo: https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTL9fH1p1/" (love you nonnie thank you for giving me the idea to make this series, ur the best mwahhhh hope you enjoyed)

─ word count | 1k

─ warnings | so much sexual tension its bad, paige being possessive (in a cutesy way!), interviewer being kinda weird/suggestive, mentions of drinking/getting high, some language, nothing else?

─ taglist | @xocherishxo @iienstein @yazmunson @euphternal @uraesthete @hello-nah817 @wanderlusturous and here's a link to my taglist if anyone would like to join!!

─ ev's notes | okay so this is kinda part of the manager series (if u guys want it to be) or if u have no idea what it is, thats fine!!!! i wanted to make it a standalone cus it felt better to me that way but whichever you'd like to read it, read it!! idk why that specific tiktok is my roman empire, it's just the way she talks and EVERYTHING makes me physically so like..... obsessed i don't even know, like GODDDDD im so attracted to her

YOUR FEET HAD begun to hurt an hour ago and your entire body felt sore, though you didn't feel very tired though.

You were two and half redbull vodkas in and let's just say you were tipsy; you weren't quite drunk yet but you were definitely on the way. As you stumbled slightly through the sidewalks of the UConn campus, your only guide was Paige's hand on your waist. The combination of the alcohol and Paige's presence made everything seem surreal, like you were walking through a really good dream.

You felt giddy, that was the only way you could describe it. You were drunk, sure but mostly off of Paige's lingering touch. You were excited by it, as if every brush of her fingers against your skin sent a jolt of electricity through your body. The night air was crisp, but you hardly noticed as you leaned into her warmth, reveling in the sensation of her warmth.

Paige's laughter bubbled up beside you was infectious, pulling you deeper. You found yourself laughing along, not entirely sure what was so funny but not exactly caring either. The world seemed to shrink to just the two of you in a bubble of tipsy euphoria.

You and Paige leaned against the railing, a cup in her hand as she gazed at you while you spoke about god-knows-what, she wasn't really sure anymore. She was zoned out until she felt a tap on her shoulder, to be met with a pair of new eyes.

Her face contorted into confusion as she sat up, glancing at you then back at the stranger. "Are you Paige and Y/N?"

"Yeah, what's up?" She replied quickly as she straightened up, a forced smile on her face.

He returned the smile gratefully, "I'm a big fan, uh... can we interview you two?" The guy spoke quickly as he glanced back at his friend, who was waving awkwardly.

Paige glanced back at you with a smile of her own as she waited for your approval. You nodded slowly as you glanced back at the guys as you surveyed the surroundings. "Just be chill, okay?"

He nodded as his friend pulled out his phone as he took out his phone and began using it as a microphone. He cleared his throat as he smiled, looking at his friend to start recording.

"Who are here with today?" He spoke as he brought it up to Paige's lips, then yours.

"Paige Bueckers,"

"And uh, Y/N L/N. By the way, she's not drinking alcohol," you added with a smile as Paige laughed.

Paige nodded and gestured to her drink. "I'm drinking a shirley temple, no alcohol."

"Yeah, we don't do that around here." The guy added with a laugh as the two of you glanced at each other, holding in your laughter.

Paige grinned, her tone amused as she played. "Y/N's here to keep in check though,"

"So you guys are actually close, like outside all the sports stuff?" He glanced in between you guys, noticing the close proximity between you.

You shared a knowing look with Paige. "Oh yeah, Paige and I are practically inseparable," you replied with a grin, your voice laced with fondness.

Paige nodded as she gazed at you, a smirk playing on her lips. "Yeah, Y/N's my girl, on and off the court."

You couldn't help but feel warm under her unwavering gaze as you laughed and averted your gaze back to the guy who was watching you two closely.

"As in like, best friend?" He clarified as he looked back at the camera with a laugh.

"What else?" Paige replied with amusement and slight agitation as she finally broke her gaze, a small laugh leaving her lips. "Obviously,"

"How is it like working together though, if you guys are really close? If I had to spend all that time with my best friend, not sure I would make it." The interviewer joked as he glanced back at the camera.

Paige furrowed her eyebrows as she laughed. "It's not bad at all, it's really fun. We hang out a lot, we get to go on trips together and share hotel rooms, it's a blessing."

She glanced back at you with a smile as you nodded slowly, feeling yourself draw closer to her. "Yeah, it is a blessing," that was all you could get out as you watched Paige wet her lips and laugh, turning away slightly.

You were pretty sure that the interviewer had caught on to the obvious tension but you didn't care at this point, you were lost in the moment, captivated by Paige. The interviewer's words seemed to fade into the background as you found yourself drawn closer to her, your heart pounding with a mixture of excitement.

"Why do you wear Paige's jersey rather than anyone else's?" He asked, his tone laced with amusement as he watched you zone back in.

Paige's eyebrows furrowed as she looked at the guy, clearly getting annoyed by his stupid question. But before she could respond with a less polite answer, you did with a laugh. "I don't only wear her jersey, it was one time and it was because it was her first game back after her injury."

Paige's expression softened as she nodded in agreement, her irritation dissipating. "Yeah, it meant a lot to me to see her wearing my jersey that day."

The interviewer nodded before he glanced back at the camera before to you two again. "Okay, okay. Last question, do you think you could beat me in a 1v1?"

"Absolutely," Paige replied with a laugh as she grabbed your arm and pulled you away, beginning to walk off before the interviewer kept talking.

"Okay bet, whoever wins gets to take Y/N out," he called out, his tone playful as he flashed a smirk toward the camera.

Paige turned around to give him the nastiest glare of all time as she kept walking forward. "I already do that, bro."

You stifled a laugh at Paige's quick retort, her playful possessiveness bringing a warmth to your cheeks. The interviewer's eyes widened in surprise at Paige's response, clearly caught off guard by her boldness as he laughed, turning back to the camera.

You two just walked off as Paige's hand moved down back to your waist as you continued on your way. Despite the slightly heated exchange, you couldn't help but feel a flutter of warmth in your chest at Paige's possessiveness.

──── COMMENTS

cam 🎀 | this has to be their hard launch or something cus DAMN😭 ♡ 792

↳ user893492948493 | ngl i can't even deny it anymore and i was the biggest anti paige and y/n person OUT THERE

↳ lily :p | "my girl" 🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋

Jake | is it just me or does paige like girls? ♡ 701

↳ ella :) | ????? yeah????

↳ Jake | this is news to me uhh

lovergirl <3 | okay what about sharin hotel rooms now... ♡ 432

ZM | bro why would u say that 😭😭😭 in front of PAIGE BUECKERS 😭😭 ♡ 1.1k

✌🏼💥💁🏻‍♀️ | am i interrupting something... 😰 ♡ 994

cailey ☀️ | okay who is y/n whats her instagram where does she go who is she is she dating anyone wow shes beautiful ♡ 2k

↳ 💯💯 | everyones collective reaction when they first see y/n

↳ cailey ☀️ | going through a rabbit hole rn brb, she's so pretty what 😭

↳ #1 swiftie 💍 | cailey watch out girl ur on paige's watchlist now....

🤗🤗 | the damn tension in air damn im not even y/n and i feel hot ♡ 118

Thomas W | they are both drunk as hell bro what is up with the laughing 😭 ♡ 1.2k

user83948928932 | bro met y/n l/n and paige bueckers and continued to ask the worst questions of all time ♡ 591

↳ uconn luvr | and paige was good with the comebacks like okayyy baee protect ur girl!!

↳ 💥 bow | they are not dating, can two girls just be friends anymore?

↳ uconn luvr | she literally calls her "my girl" in like the first 2 seconds of the video

Isabelle Reece ✨ | paige was too quick w that reply to just be "best friends" with her 💀 ♡ 903

↳ ur fav aries | bro i know she was smooth with it too like💁🏻‍♀️

y/n's bitch 💙 | idk who i wanna be more y/n or paige ♡ 252

↳ mikey 🤑 | theyre both so hot

↳ 🧚‍♀️ | mike ima have sit you down for this...

↳ taylor! | ohh... thats not...

Chris | shes cooking you respectfully ♡ 1k

i 💙 uconn wbb | if this doesn't prove y/n and paige are together idk what will

♡ 853

────

part 2?? cus i lowk wanna write smut for this now... lmk

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[sunderwight]

Thinking about SV demon culture as one struggling under the weight of imperialism, a violent ruling class with a might-makes-right mindset, and a lot of warfare.

I really don't like fics that imply that Luo Binghe's conquest of the demon realms just automatically improved living conditions there. I think both versions believed that they could conquer things, establish a new regime, and fix a lot of political issues in the process, I just don't think that would actually be the result of a violent takeover on the part of a cultural outsider with a patchy understanding of the actual multitude of demon cultures involved, whose only asset was an extreme capacity for physical violence and resilience against death.

Like, no wonder Bingge was always putting down uprisings and "rivals" for power -- a lot of his empire was probably actually being run by the demon wives or families of the demon wives he favored most, like Sha Hualing, or by preferred subordinates like Mobei Jun, who very probably pursued their own interests just as doggedly as they had prior to his rule. Only, this time they'd have been doing so with the added leverage of Luo Binghe's violence answering anyone who "rebelled" against "his" authority.

Demons in SV have myriad subtypes and subcultures. It seems really likely that a lot of them have been persecuted by others, that there are demon communities who have been subjugated, muscled out of ancestral homes, enslaved, wiped out, etc. This would probably even explain some "invasions" by demons into the human realm -- I'd imagine numerous cases across history of refugees being taken for (or described as) marauders by cultivation sects, or human communities unprepared or unwilling to deal fairly with visibly inhuman "monsters" and answering their approach with violence, or even displaced demons who did in fact become bandits and such in the fallout of various conflicts causing problems.

But there also would probably have been demons that succeeded in making their way in the human realm, and disguising what they were well enough that the sects never even knew. After all, most of the methods for alerting the sects to the presence of demons involve demons doing something violent (like the Skinner demon) or people seeing demons and going "ahhh!" about it. A demon or a family of demons uninterested in serial killing and only looking to get by and avoid the violence would likely not attract that kind of attention, just so long as they could pass as human too.

I do wonder if the reverse has ever happened as well. Human wars driving humans to seek refuge in the demon realms. It would conversely seem a lot more dangerous (demons are physically tougher than humans, and the demon realms are notoriously harsh), but in some cases it was probably like, well, life is hell already, at least the things trying to kill us in the demon realm are straightforward about it?

There are probably way more half-demons out there than just Luo Binghe, and even more demons with human ancestry or humans with demon ancestry. I wouldn't be surprised if demon ancestry actually played a roll in some humans being cultivation prodigies compared to others -- demons seem to have a natural physical power that most humans don't, and while their cultivation uses different energy, it would make sense of some aspects of things like a physical inclination to store, accrue, or manipulate energy in general could benefit even predominately human descendants of mixed blood.

But anyway, back to politics.

Tianlang Jun didn't seem to be a terribly proactive ruler either. Which on the one hand can be a good thing (he wasn't a tyrant, wasn't interested in waging wars or conquering others, didn't much care to throw his weight around), but someone was actually ruling in his absence. Conflicts were still happening, and being resolved. Tributes or taxes were still being paid to him, for him to live any kind of lavish lifestyle, which means they were being collected, rates were being determined, enforced, etc, which does beg the question of who was doing it. Not Zhuzhi Lang, certainly.

In Bingmei's time, the person actually running things is Shang Qinghua, which means also Mobei Jun is actually running things to some extent too. Shen Qingqiu loves demonic beasts but doesn't seem like he could care less about politics, and Luo Binghe only got this job in the first place because he was trying to impress him, and the post-canon extras would seem to indicate that they check out of the process as often as possible.

Mobei Jun and Shang Qinghua's rule probably makes things pretty hard for the southern demons who are traditionally loyal to the Heavenly Demons. I mean, apart from not being able to beat Luo Binghe in a fight, self-serving ambition would definitely be a motive for Mobei Jun to throw his lot in with him as soon as possible, right? "Give" the emperor your palace, your service, your resources, etc, and the emperor basically becomes Mobei's own tool to reinforce his sovereignty. In PIDW he even uses him to do that in a more immediate sense by bringing him to the fight with his uncle. In SV he decides Shang Qinghua is more suitable, which, symbolically, is even true. The cost of wielding Luo Binghe's authority is having to submit to it, but Shang Qinghua has elevated Mobei Jun even without that.

No wonder the southern demons couldn't get on Tianlang Jun's side fast enough when he reappeared. Given both Mobei Jun and Shang Qinghua's bias, the North has probably been running rampant with their own interests while the South gets hamstrung and dealt crumbs by comparison. Sha Hualing's clearly been trying to get on Luo Binghe's good side with minimal success ever since he got out of the Abyss. Unlike in PIDW, where she's a major player, here she's just an underling desperately playing catch-up and accidentally offending him all the time.

I wonder how that's impacting the complex arrangement of political alliances, cultures, and conflicts among the various factions in the demon realm. It'd probably be like if the remote and somewhat isolated North and Winterfell in ASOIAF/Game of Thrones suddenly became the new capital of the empire, and White Harbor became the main trade hub, while all the southern lords struggled to even get a foot in the door with the new king and kept pissing him off all the time. And every time they try to break free or rebel or kill him, it doesn't work and they get personally murdered by him. Meanwhile the northern lords are making off like bandits, with the current Lord Stark gay married to some inhuman warlock who does all his paperwork and somehow knows all your embarrassing secrets.

...That comparison got away from me. But I mean, it's kind of fascinating? A huge mess and likely miserable for a lot of demons, but still. The implications...

[rie-092]

DEAREST ADVISOR.

❥. yandere! emperor x advisor! reader

• liam luwelton was one of the most famous emperor on the history of lobelia empire. while he was praised for being a good and powerful ruler. he was also famous for being a womanizer who hook up with so many girls yet, he didn't even chosen any of them to be his empress.

• don't blame him, he likes having fun. but he hates when he got attached or tied to something that will hinder him. he was only doing this for his own entertainment after all. no one stayed on his side for so long anyways, well maybe except to the captain of his imperial knights, warren, his childhood friend.

• that was the main reason why he became surprised when warren's younger sister, you, became his advisor. the most amusing part was warren is the one who recommended you. hmm, it seemed like your brother doesn't even care about the fact that liam's mother, the previous empress, fired all the female servants after knowing her son's tendencies to, uhm... seduce them.

• that was the main reason why he was excited to finally meet you. the famous sister of his friend. he wanted to know how long will it take for you to became smitten and obsessed with him? ahh, just thinking about it makes liam so excited.

• but you were fucking different that he expected. who in the hell is in the right mind to greet the emperor for the first time while wearing a damn pyjamas? what the fuck? as far as he knew, you were the damn daughter of a duke. so, what in the hell was wrong with your fashion sense?

• well, keeping your fuvked up fashion aside. you were indeed good at your job. even though you can be pretty hard headed sometimes, you were able to carry yourself with so much confidence and boy, oh boy. he likes it so much.

• maybe, that time when he basically threaten you to wear an appropriate dress to attend a certain banquet with him. was the time when he realized that he fucked up. yeah, his motto that 'no string attached' crumbled down as he saw your annoyed face when the maids' dressed you up with the most elegant dress that he gifted for you. and the fact that you got drunk that night and mumbled some cute nonsense didn't helped either. fuck. the main reason why he got you drunk anyways is to fuck you. but damn, he can't bring himself to do it since you looked so cute while clinging to him for support!

• as a yandere, liam was overbearing and posessive. gosh, this guy is unhinged and practically crazy. he's an emperor for the petesake! he killed his siblings to ascend to the throne. so don't expect that he's a nice guy!

• those times that he escaped the palace just to go outside and hook up with girls? yup, he stopped doing that for you. expect that while working, his eyes were focused on your every move. you talk to other guy other than him and warren? expect that he will be fired the next day. and why is that? well, it's your fault.

• he was now fine with you working in your pyjamas, you're so cute wearing that after all! but, in exchange he will increase your workload 10x because he knew that you always goes home after finishing your work, he just wants to spend the whole day with you!

• don't even think of quiting, darling. because liam will not let you to do so. unfortunately, he was able to wrap his pretty fingers around you with you being unaware of it. ahh, he just loves how clueless you are when liam fired all the male servants on his palace and replaced it with the female ones to make sure they you won't be able to flirt with them while working.

• all in all, liam is head over heels for you. he wants you for himself to the point that he spread the rumour about you being the next empress of the prestigious lobelia empire. just to shackle you by his side.

• but of course, your usual playful older brother doesn't like it at all. so be ready, because just like a prince on the fantasy stories that the two of you read before. he will do anything to save you, his precious little sister even if it means he needs to burn down the whole empire and kill liam for you. i mean, when you were a kid, you mentioned that you wanted to be a ruler. so just sit back and let your big brother, warren do the work <3.

“ our love comes first, everything is secondary.”

[erindrinkstea]

You're dead to me

Fully Masked! Mark "Invincible" Grayson x F! Reader

TW: Violence, Death, Murder, and Mental Health Themes.

Description:

When Angstrom sent those variants of Invincible through a portal to a wasteland, he accidentally sends Fully Masked! Mark Grayson to a different world.

A world where Mark Grayson dies but you still live.

Main Masterlist | Invincible Masterlist

Note: Don't worry Mark, I love your Mom too.

"We'll just torture you instead. Duh."

"..."

Seeing all these twisted versions of himself made him sick to his stomach. But he understood. He truly did. They didn’t have you. They didn’t have her. And without his mom… without you by his side, he could’ve ended up the exact same way.

That’s why he had done the terrible things in this world. Why he’d committed atrocities he never thought himself capable of. Because he was alone. Because the two people who grounded him—his mom and you—weren’t there.

He didn’t care about the crown.

He didn’t want a throne.

The Viltrum Empire meant nothing to him.

All he wanted was his family.

The only two constants that ever made him feel human. Made him better. Happy.

So when Angstrom came to him and whispered about another world—one where his mom was alive, and you were too—how could he not listen?

But it was a lie. A cruel, soul-crushing lie.

His mom was nowhere to be found. And you… you were dead. Crushed. Torn apart. Just like in that nightmare he could never wake up from. Just blood and broken pieces of the only person he loved.

Tracking down the version of himself responsible was easy. Killing him was even easier.

Painfully so.

"What…?!"

He recoiled, startled as multiple green portals suddenly bloomed in front of them. His jaw clenched as Angstrom's devices flared and sucked each of them into their own vortex.

When he blinked next, he wasn’t in his world anymore.

But he wasn’t with the others either.

Wherever he landed, he doubted this was part of Angstrom’s plan.

──────⊹⊱☕︎︎⊰⊹──────

"Sweetheart, are you sure you're going to be okay?"

Today marked three years since Mark Grayson died.

You gave Debbie a soft smile. “I’m fine. Really.”

She had always been so kind to you, even with everything she’d suffered.

“How are you doing? And how’s Oliver?”

It hadn’t been easy—Omni-Man going rogue. Nolan killing his own son. And then, months later, coming back with a baby in his arms, begging for forgiveness.

Debbie hadn’t forgiven him. But she had agreed to raise Oliver. Because the boy had no one else. His mother was gone, and Nolan couldn’t stay.

Debbie had hesitated. But the moment that baby reached out with curious little hands and cooed at her, she melted. He reminded her too much of her own son—the one she lost too soon.

“Oliver’s growing so fast. Just yesterday, I could still carry him. Now he’s already got friends at school.” She sighed, tired but proud.

“Mom! Is that sis?”

Oliver’s voice rang out as he raced into the room. He had started calling you ‘sister’ after all the time you spent caring for him. You never minded.

“Oliver,” you smiled, catching him in a hug as he tackled your waist.

“I CAN FLY!” he announced, eyes wide. “I tripped on the stairs yesterday and floated instead of falling!”

Your breath caught. “Really?” You looked up at Debbie, who nodded with a small smile.

Just like his brother.

You remembered the first time Mark floated instead of falling—he’d looked so proud, so thrilled. That memory felt sacred now.

“That’s amazing,” you told Oliver.

“I know, right?” he grinned, puffing up with pride. So much like Mark.

You swallowed the ache in your chest. God, please don’t let him turn out like Nolan.

“How about you help your mom clean the house with your powers? I’m just going to take a quick walk.”

A lie, of course. You just didn’t want to cry in front of him.

“Okay!” he chirped, bouncing off with Debbie, who caught your eye and gave a subtle nod. She understood.

──────⊹⊱☕︎︎⊰⊹──────

Mark drifted above the unfamiliar skyline.

This wasn’t his world.

It wasn’t the one from before, either. Somewhere new entirely.

Strangely, no one tried to stop him. No heroes. No threats. Just… wide-eyed stares and hushed gasps as he flew overhead.

People weren’t afraid. Just surprised.

He wasn’t a villain here, it seemed. Not yet.

Maybe this version of him had done something right for once.

He stayed in the air, keeping low, keeping quiet. He was tired—sick of the bloodshed, of the failures, of chasing ghosts.

He just wanted to go home.

But this world… something about it felt different. Warmer.

And he had a gut feeling he wasn’t here by accident after all. Maybe it was fate.

He could’ve missed it. Could’ve flown right past, too focused on his goal—too desperate to find a way back home.

But then, in a split second, his eyes caught something. Someone.

A figure.

Familiar.

Too familiar.

It couldn’t be.

But it was.

“...Darling?” he breathed, voice soft, disbelieving. His body stopped mid-air, frozen. He just hovered there, staring at the figure walking below.

God. It was you.

You were alive.

“Darling,” he whispered again—and this time, he didn’t hesitate. His direction shifted instantly, diving toward the one person he had torn worlds apart for.

You didn’t see him coming. You were too caught up in your grief, still walking slowly down the sidewalk, tears silently streaming down your face.

You were wiping at them, frustrated, exhausted.

"My love?"

That voice.

You froze in place.

Not again. You thought the hallucinations had stopped. Thought you were healing.

But here you were, hearing him again—hearing that voice you would have given anything to hear just one more time.

You didn’t turn around.

You couldn’t handle the disappointment.

“I can’t do this,” you muttered, voice cracking as more tears welled up. “Not today.”

Your hands went back to your face, desperate to rub away the hurt.

“Easy there,” a voice said gently, a presence stepping in. “Stop rubbing so hard. Geez, your eyes are all red. What made my lovely girl cry so much?”

You froze again.

Hands—not yours—brushed against your cheeks, careful and warm. Soft thumbs wiped away your tears like they had all the time in the world.

It felt so real.

Too real.

“You, you idiot,” you hiccupped, unable to hold it in. “It’s your stupid death anniversary. You couldn’t even give me one day of peace.”

Your sobs were broken, helpless.

The man—Mark—blinked at you like that was news.

“So… I’m dead here, huh? he murmured, more to himself than to you. “Makes things a bit easier.”

You cried harder. “You’re not real. And it hurts. It’s not fair.”

“But I am,” he said softly. “I’m real. And so are you.”

His hands were still cupping your face with that same gentle care he always had. His eyes searched yours with aching tenderness.

He looked… different.

Worn. Tired.

Hair a little longer. Shoulders a bit heavier.

But still him. Still your Mark.

The warmth. The love.

That unmistakable feeling that wrapped around you like a blanket in winter.

“You’re dead,” you said again, as if reminding yourself.

He hummed, nonchalant. “Not anymore. You were dead too, remember? But now you’re alive.” A dark glint passed through his eyes. “And I’ll make sure it stays that way. No matter what.”

His voice was calm, certain. Steady in a way that was both comforting and unnerving.

“Now,” he said, lips curling into a half-smile, “how about we go see Mom? It’s going to be one hell of a reunion, don’t you think?”

You blinked.

Once.

Twice.

Was this real?

It had to be.

“Mark…?”

──────⊹⊱☕︎︎⊰⊹──────

[inkivaari]

omg it can be anything u want just.. i always see people making conquest call reader kitten (for obvious reason hehe) but . could u ✍️ puppy reader…. like.. puppy pet names & stuff ..

YES ANON YES OF COURSE

𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝'𝚜 𝚙𝚞𝚙𝚙𝚢

disclaimers: sexual content, f! reader, i feel like disclaimers atp for conquest are sorta unnecessary, y'all KNOW what's coming next by now

conquest loves his sweet little puppy so much!! always so happy to see him, wriggling all over him, covering his face with those sweet kisses, nuzzling him with that sweet little nose, you get so excited when he comes to see you when he leaves for a while, he'd feel bad for not taking you to watch him take over planets if not for how happy you get when he comes back! what? he's selfish at his core, it feeds his ego.

his puppy always wants to play with him, always full of excess energy. he starts out gentle, he really tries to limit his strength so he can tire you out safely. he's been teaching you good techniques though, when it comes to wrestling. he's gotta get his puppy's bite just as good as her bark, after all. he teaches you how to grab, how to wiggle out of one, how to dodge, how to use that agile little body against big tough guys like him. i stress like him: there's no way you're beating that man any day. he loves seeing you try! encourages it!

'there you go, baby! yes, just like that, just how i showed you!'

when you've got your thighs on either side of his head in a firm lock and are trying to pull him down. of course he's not going anywhere, pouting at you when you whine with frustruation.

'awww, poor puppy... gonna have to try harder than that...'

when he's fed up with seeing you struggle, he'll take charge. pin you down beneath him, even if it means grabbing you from his back and slamming you down. don't worry, he won't let you hit the floor (he learned the first time that that'll break a rib-), he has you wrapped tightly in his arms against his chest, and he lets you bark and howl as he holds you down, flipping you onto your belly with your hands held firm behind your back, preventing your escape as he leans down to rumble beside your ear...

'we done here, puppy? or you got anything else to prove to your master?'

like clockwork, you raise and wiggle that little ass, like a bitch in heat, on her haunches. he purrs low in his chest with approval, lifts that little skirt, or even better, rips those jeans apart...

of course his favourite position is doggy. cmon. it does require a bit of skillful angling, he's so big after all... he's leaning over you, his chest flush with your arched back, he's growling and grunting while you whine and fuss beneath him, bucking back against his hips for a harder, deeper fuck... that's his puppy, thinking she's a big girl, that she can take a pounding like a wild she-wolf... ohhhhhh, the discipline that goes into keeping a sweet girl like you safe and in one piece...

he considers giving his puppy some little pups of her own so she has something to take care of when he's away... but he thinks better of it when he holds you at night, holds you in his arms as you snore softly, your body limp and vulnerable against his bare chest, letting out a soft yip or a chuff in your dreams... his puppy still had some things to work out for herself. he still had plenty to teach you, to toughen you up for when things would get hard, if the empire ever found out about his precious little pup he'd been taking care of... no, he would never allow anything to happen to you. you would be safe, you would be spoiled... and that brave little heart of yours would be indulged by him forever <3

why did i highkey get a little sad about this

:(((((( PUPPY READER SUPREMACY I DECLARE IT NOW series potential guys pls drop me some ideas in the inbox let's get it

[elfbotanist]

Environmental storytelling in inquisition is so good. I played the game blind last year and oh how I wish I could play this game again for the first time.

Early in the game you're exploring the ruins. You heard about ancient elves in a dialogue with Solas and now you are seeing the remains of the said people. Ancient beings used to live in these ruins. It's fascinating but also sad.

You explore an ancient tevinter ruin, you venture deep inside the said ruin, you realise the architecture is more elvhen than tevinter. You remember someone saying how tevinter built its empire over elvhenan. Claimed their marvels as their own like vultures and now you are seeing it.

You capture Suledin keep. Place obviously elvhen and important to the elves, only for the chantry to claim it for its own as soon as you clear out the red templars. Andraste's statues everywhere, place never going back to elves ever again. You are left with a bitter taste in your mouth, maybe you shouldn't have captured the keep but atleast nearby villages will have a safe sanctuary.

Then near ending of the game you actually meet those ancient beings living in the ruins you were exploring throughout the game. You talk with them. It's implied that others may still linger. You're so bamboozled by the idea that a whole society of ancient beings might still be out there sleeping and/or walking. No one had any idea about this, it changes everything you know about the world and your own people.

You're so busy having a crisis about everything, you don't even question how your hobo apostate bf even knew about other ancient elves still surviving.

Then you meet the said hobo apostate bf in rotunda wondering if he had painted something after the quest but dude is fuming. You don't know what's happening you just want him to calm down so you reassure him and he gets hopeful and flirty. You pat yourself on the back 'job well done' cuz now he's taking you on a romantic date.

He tells you the truth about vallaslin, you think 'but the meaning is different now' but you still let him remove them cuz you trust him. He said he wanted to show you how much you meant to him but ended up breaking up? You're so confused, angry, helpless and sad. You just don't know what is happening anymore. When you ask him to explain things he hits you with a 'you saw the most' which again makes no sense because why you're running away from me if i changed everything?

You're either busy being too sad or busy backtracking everything he has ever told you to pinpoint the reason WHY he broke up, you are not analysing the environmental storytelling anymore. You are analysing the man himself. And then he fucking leaves. Motherfucker. You hope atleast he's safe wherever he is, he got the warmest armour you made for him with so much love and care and the powerful staff you gifted him which goes with his whole hobo look. But you can't stand the rotunda being empty so you skip everything and load trespasser dlc.

And ah the trespasser dlc. They really said "oh so you loved exploring ruins for storytelling? AND you romanced Solas? Well I have just the dlc for you".

You see someone casting a huge mindblast spell, literally shaking your screen and now you know it's him. It has to be him. So you rush forward, he's not there but there are murals. I honestly can't put in words how I felt when I saw that one mural of Solas removing vallaslin and freeing slaves. It's beautiful, terrible (how can your "gods" enslave your own people) and tragic (that's your lover and you thought you knew him).

You're feeling so miserable and now the music is making you anxious. Everyone back at winter palace is having the best time it seems. You appreciate it but you're not in the mood for spa day. Get married? With whom exactly my dear friend. Cole is someone you are seeking out again and again cuz you know he will give you something.

You think this can't get any worse but then it does. He created the goddamn veil. And sundered the world. "Vhenan, where the fuck are you?"

The qunari tells you Solas is an agent of Fen'harel but you know better and so does your inquisitor at this point. But you have to save him. You run through eluvians, skipping fights to reach him as soon as you can. Your anchor is killing you, you don't care, you have to reach him anyhow.

You hear a familiar voice speaking some foreign language. You know it's him. You've found him. Finally. One moment you don't recognize him AT ALL but in another you do because he has the same kind eyes, full lips (and adorable shiny head lol). He looks very different now. Somehow older, wise, like a leader and so SO handsome. He tell you not to be proud of him but you just are. He is brutal to his enemies, his magic terrifying, an ancient freedom fighter, Fen'harel, Dreadwolf. But he is also just Solas. Vhenan.

"Ma ghilana, vhenan"

 "Ir abelas, vhenan"

He keeps calling you vhenan, my heart, my love. You have never seen him so open and vulnerable about his love for you (like that night in crestwood). He answers some of your questions but not all. This impossible man. He saves you only for vowing to sacrifice everything else, even himself.

Impossible, IMPOSSIBLE man. Just let me come with you!

"I cannot bear to think of you alone".

"I walk the din’anshiral. There is only death on this journey. I would not have you see what I become".

[gffa]

i'm sorry for the sensitive subject ask, but do you watch andor? i'm curious about your thoughts on the SA scene and the discourse that's followed it regarding vader. i feel like the scene is just more blatantly showing what already been implied throughout various star wars stories/media, and that most people (namely men) getting up in arms about it are clear "empire is cool" folks. but i'm on this weird fence about the discourse that's been dragged into the convo surrounding vader. i feel like anakin clearly is opposed to that sort of violence, given the various implications from the tcw zygerria arc for example, but i find it odd to bring vader into the conversation. vader, to me, is the twisted antithesis of who he used to be as a jedi. i feel like he clearly turns a blind eye to horrors he would have opposed when he still referred to himself as anakin skywalker. what are your thoughts?

I've been thinking about this and my gut reaction remains the same--Darth "willing to murder babies, is fine with reclassifying the Wookies as a non-sapient species so they could be used as slave labor" Vader is not suddenly going to grow a conscience about sexual assault. I don't think he's necessarily in favor of it, but I don't think he would do anything about it, either. This guy is the nightmare monster who rips his way into people's thoughts--a severe and deeply personal invasion of their very being--who tortures people with whatever method, who literally killed children because it got him what he was after. As a Jedi, Anakin was toeing the line on a lot of dark acts, but I don't think he would have used this tactic--though, I suspect part of that is because he just couldn't fathom wanting to have sex with someone that he wasn't in love with. I'm firmly on the "Anakin is demi" train and that informs a lot of how I see him and his reactions to situations in this area. But, no, I can't see that he would have tolerated this as a Jedi. That's why the murdering Jedi younglings scene is put in the movie, it's not just there for shock value, but to show that Anakin has crossed the moral event horizon. He has cemented himself as Darth Vader, who is willing to do literally anything to get what he wants, no matter how heinous or unthinkable, because the dark side is all there is. There can't be sudden exceptions to that rule or that scene loses its meaning. To say that Vader wouldn't have tolerated sexual assault is wild to me, because like. That guy participated literal baby murder, multiple genocides, mind rape, enslavement of entire species, torture, etc. But sexual assault would be a bridge too far for that guy? I love Anakin and I'm willing to give a lot of leeway to that he was deep, deep in the dark side and that twists your mind and soul, it warps you and lies to you and makes you think terrible things. And I think that darkness needs to be that deep, to make the point of just how incredible it was that he clawed his way back to the light. That's so much of why I love Anakin Skywalker, someone who tried so hard to do good, who fell so deep into the darkness, who found his way back out of those impossible depths--trying to soften the edges of that just doesn't feel true to the character for me. The dark side deadens you to compassion and care for others, just because we're uncomfortable with sexual assault, doesn't mean Vader would be. That's kind of the point of the dark side, it makes you fine with things you shouldn't be. As a note to where I'm coming from--I have a lot of personal family baggage with the violent death of a toddler, so I find Vader's murder of children to not just be a meme or a joke, I find it genuinely angering and disturbing. I still feel a visceral, physical reaction when I think about it for long. So, I get why people would have an instinctive reaction to, "Anakin wouldn't accept that!" to an horrific act being depicted in front of us. But I've had to accept that my guy would do that when it comes to my horrific act being depicted in front of me. The violent death of a child is such a defining act of monstrosity that trying to say this other act is somehow A Thing Even He Wouldn't Dare Do, just doesn't wash imo. That guy already crossed the line a long, long time ago. He'll absolutely do the things that make us viscerally uncomfortable to see depicted onscreen.

[blueraith]

It's wild to me just how badly Vi's arc is misunderstood in S2. The claims I've seen that it was bad because she didn't join up with Ekko to help liberate Zaun or didn't "have enough stuff to do."

Big 'ole S1 Vi analysis under the cut because some "hot" takes seem to forget that Vi's S1 arc even exists.

Like, sorry, but that was never the direction her character was going to go. This was spelled out for us in the very first episode of the show when Vander is giving her that lecture.

"When people look up to you, you don't get to be selfish."

"Whatever happens, it's on you."

This is the first conversation in the show that carries an impactful character building statement. We are effectively being given the start of Vi's character arc verbatim.

She is not allowed to be selfish.

And as S1 Act 1 progresses, and Vi expresses a will to fight, to rebel, to revolt, she is constantly and consistently shut down and discouraged from that way of thinking by her father figure. She's fifteen years old or so, Vander is the only authority figure in her life that she respects. Why wouldn’t she internalize any of this as is, let alone after all the tragedy she's forced to endure at the end of this act?

Then we get to tragedy. Vander tells her two very specific things before and after the showdown with Silco.

"Take care of the family."

"Take care of Powder."

You know. Not, "hey, take over my mantle as Hound of the Underground."

Or "lead Zaun to freedom" or whatever the fuck.

He tells her to look after their family. The people closest to Vi.

And I don't know how many of you are older siblings. Or even older sisters. But I question if some of Vi's most heated critics are either neither of those things or lack any knowledge of sibling dynamics, period. When you are handed this tiny baby from a young age and are told "this is your baby sibling, you have to help take care of them, we won't always be here but they'll always have you" by your parents, that shit sticks with you forever. For better or worse.

If you're parentified on top of that through either circumstance or abuse, then that sentiment turns toxic. Vander, as well-meaning as he is in his talks with Vi, inadvertently presents a pretty black and white viewpoint. When paired with Vi's reaction to his (first) death and learning what Powder did, it becomes even worse.

Think about it. Most people seem to focus solely on Vi's anger issues when she strikes Powder for obvious reasons. But there's this selfishness that Vi temporarily succumbs to when she hits Powder as well. She's not thinking of Powder's emotional state or devastation as she realizes what she's done, Vi is mired in her own grief and anger.

She then walks away from Powder to take a moment to herself and presumably recollect her own composure, also a selfish move.

Now, when I call these actions selfish, I'm not assigning any negative connotations to them. Selfishness is not always a bad thing, putting yourself and your own needs first does not make someone a bad person by default. It can be healthy to take some time for self-care.

The "issue" is that Arcane is a tragedy. The narrative punishes Vi for lashing out and temporarily leaving Powder by having Marcus kidnap her and Silco adopt her sister. Not that Vi even knows that much when it happens. For all she knew, Silco murdered Powder.

So, then Vi spends something like seven years in Stillwater in constant limbo wondering if Powder is even alive. The sheer guilt she must have felt at "failing" to protect her baby sister would have likely been agonizing.

Seven.

Years.

Then she gets out. And all Vi cares about is finding her sister. She doesn't care about the Hexgem besides the fact that it's directly related to Jinx, and Caitlyn lied to her by ommission about it.

She's not trying to retake the Lanes in Vander's name. She only cares about bringing Silco's empire down because of what he did to her family. She wants her sister back first and foremost, she does not care to stick with the Firelights and even leaves Ekko and Cailtyn on the bridge initially to go after Jinx.

It's really her burgeoning feelings for Caitlyn that ever cracks this near obsessive compulsion to chase after her sister. Vi was going to choose Jinx until the point Caitlyn was injured and then the both of them were shot at by Jinx.

Even the moment she falls in love with Caitlyn is tied to her guilt about leaving Powder. The story she tells while they're on Caitlyn’s bed, her obvious grief and guilt over her sister. She's mired in this moment of pain until Caitlyn reaches out to comfort her. Like, Jinx and Caitlyn have always been intertwined in Vi's arc after she meets Caitlyn. There is no overarching thread to connect Vi to any of the political plot points in this story.

Vi's arc is character driven. Always has been. She's motivated by her warring desire to protect those she loves with EVERYTHING she has, and this by now guilty pleasure to finally develop something purely for herself.

It's why she pushes Caitlyn away during the infamous Oil and Water breakup. The class differences she's citing are an excuse, an easy thing she can point at to push Caitlyn away. What's really going on is that she failed to get the Council to decisively act against Silco. She's failed Jinx again in her own mind, he's still out there poisoning her mind, and now she needs to take care of him herself. Caitlyn proved to be a distraction from her goal, and so must be removed.

Even after teaming up with Jayce and then going her own way, Vi does not go after more shimmer factories. She's not rallying the Lanes to revolt with Hextech weaponry in (on) hand. She immediately goes to the Last Drop to challenge Sevika, someone she hates specifically because she'd betrayed Vander. She had every intention to confront Silco right after that.

Then we get the tea party, and Vi has to come to terms with the fact that the sister she loved is fundamentally changed in more ways than one. She's given an ultimatum to choose between her self-imposed duty as an older sister and Caitlyn. The only relationship Vi has ever formed purely for herself.

And she can't do it. It's an impossible choice. Jinx ends up triggered intensely, Caitlyn is struck by indecision and doesn't take the shot because of Vi's pleas, and Jinx goes on to fire that rocket.

Like this is just Season. One. Every single important character moment Vi has is tied to either Jinx, Caitlyn, or both. This is not a new thing S2 did with Vi's character. Her arc was always about how much she was giving to other characters without much thought to herself.

I just don't get how some people expected that to radically change in S2. It was never going to happen. I'll probably make an analysis on S2 Vi as well, but this is already getting very long. It's also a good way to remind some folks that each season of this show does not exist in a vacuum. I've read a lot of takes that seem to just... ignore S1. It's pretty bizarre.

[tam--lin]

Books For People Who Liked Leverage and White Collar

I've always been a big non-fiction reader, and I'm particularly fond of frauds, scams, and white collar crime. Ever since I finished White Collar last year, I've been meaning to pull together a collection of related books. As you'll quickly learn if you dive into this list, the truth is often wilder than fiction. (A lot more FBI agents yelling FUCK YOU!! at each other across board room tables, for one thing.)

IMPORTANT! Please don't pirate! It hurts authors. Most of these books are available through your local library, including as e-books. You can help local bookstores by purchasing through bookshop dot org, or as audiobooks through libro dot fm.

Category #1: Stand Outs and All-Time Favorites

Bad Blood reads like a thriller, and I genuinely mean that. It's gripping, it's incredible reporting, it's just a jaw-dropping story. Theranos was one of the biggest corporate frauds in history, and Carreyrou masterfully details its rise and fall. Not to spoil what could be considered the book's big twist, but there's no one better to write it, either.

Empire of Pain is also masterful reporting by a well-regarded journalist, but it leans more family drama than thriller. This details the personal machinations that helped create the opioid crisis in America. [Leverage: Redemption 1x1, which IIRC was actually written before the Met removed the Sackler name from their exhibits. Also goes well paired with The Fall Of The House Of Usher.]

Rogues: True Stories of Grifters, Killers, Rebels and Crooks is a collection of Radden Keefe's writing for The New Yorker. It explores wine crime (Leverage 5x13 and White Collar 1x12 directly draw from this), a passionate defense attorney, whistle blowers, hit men, and international organized crime. While I recommend the book, much of this content is available for free at newyorker dot com / contributors / patrick-radden-keefe (you can use paywallreader dot com to legally get around the paywall).

Number Go Up moves quickly and is full of fascinating characters and unexpected celebrity cameos. You've got your cringe rappers, your coke-on-a-yacht billionaires, your Harry Potter rationalist poly cult. Seriously, I wish I could read this again for the first time.

Category #2: Odd, "Cozy", Strange

The Feather Thief covers a unique crime by a 20-year-old obsessed with fly fishing.

The Art Thief tells the story of Stéphane Bréitwieser, the most prolific art thief of all time. He stole during the day, from museums full of people, again and again - over 200 times, in fact. He kept his treasures in his bedroom. A fascinating portrait of a strange criminal.

Category #3: Grab Bag

Including stuff that's more adjacent to the topic but still of interest, books I got part way through, and books that are still on my TBR.

Chickenshit Club I'm part way through and enjoying, Never Split the Difference is GREAT and includes lots of true hostage negotiating stories, Fancy Bear Goes Phishing I couldn't get into but that could be because I don't need two pages of text explaining what a string is. (I'm planning on giving it another go.)

Anansi's Gold and The Corporation are both on my TBR; Con Queen of Hollywood is a riveting con story for the first half but gets a little bogged down in biography in the second half.

The Confidence Game is on my TBR and is a classic of the genre, Molly's Game is one of my partner's favorite books, and The Gospel Of Wellness does a great job at exposing how scammy the entire wellness industry is.

Genuinely there are SO many more books I could have included, and I might do another post at some point. Some books were left off intentionally, because I didn't care for them or because another book did it better. Some books were left off simply because my white collar/fraud/cons TBR is extensive and I can't include everything! And some were left off simply because I don't know about them. I'm always looking for quality non-fiction - please do share any related recommendations in the notes.

[heeseungiez]

nothing i don’t have | pjs

part 1: the tall emo kid

pairings! park jongseong x reader, ft. huening kai x reader

summary! it was supposed to be simple, you and jay would fuck whenever either of you felt horny — no feelings. but it was hard not to catch feelings where park jongseong was involved. so you took the easy way out: you ended it.

genre! texts, written fic, college au, love triangle (corner)

word count! 1.5k

content warnings! swearing, jay is delulu and jealous

author's note! toenze is my new roman empire... i don't think i'll ever shut up about it. also realistically i'm only posting this bc yolo since i have nothing ???

masterlist | next

It didn’t affect Jay anyhow, really. That you ended whatever the two of you had for another guy. Like, this was all just casual. And you still wanted to be friends which was exactly what the two of you were before… so not much had to change between the two of you. Other than, well, the lack of physical intimacy.

He didn’t care, really. It wasn’t like you were the only girl he hooked up with (you were) or that he couldn’t get any other girls, but… you ending the situationship was kind of exactly why he liked you. Because you understood everything was casual and there were no expectations, no feelings. The others, they always got attached.

And, look, Jay understood that maybe he was being too nice or whatever, but it was in his nature to help out when necessary, or to cook for people in the morning — it wasn’t like he made breakfast only for those girls anyway. He had roommates to feed, too.

You ended the deal because you had no feelings for him. Which was exactly what he wanted. So why the fuck did it bother him so much? And for Huening Kai, no less? The tall emo kid that barely spoke and people thought he was being mysterious or whatever.

What could you possibly see in him?

What did he have that Jay didn’t?

Jay let out a frustrated sigh and ran a hand through his hair, eyes still fixated on the conversation between you and him. So Huening Kai asked you out. And you liked him enough to say yes. That was certainly not on his bingo card. Realistically, he thought the type of guys you liked were someone like Sung Hanbin or Choi Soobin or… him. Not Huening Kai. 

What the hell?

“What’s up? Someone steal your cat?” Heeseung entered the shared living room with a grin. Jay had to dryly laugh at the irony of his question since, in a way, yes.

“Nah. It’s Y/N,” Jay replied, trying to sound nonchalant. “Wants to be just friends.”

“Damn, got tired of you already?” Heeseung teased, but he knew not to go further when Jay’s scathing glare nearly burned him. “What did she say?”

“Huening Kai asked her out and she said yes.” Jay shook his head. You and Kai weren’t even dating yet, and you already wanted to be exclusive with him? Why? Who even does that?

“Oh, Kai? He’s got music classes with me,” Heeseung said with a grin. “He knows how to play like five instruments. He’s kinda cool. A band kid, too. Pretty sure he has a band.” Jay didn’t need to know any of that. Not yet anyway. And then Heeseung added: “I think he was planning to ask Y/N out for a while. I caught him asking around about her once.”

Jay clenched his jaw. How long had you been talking to Kai before he asked you out? Was it out of nowhere or did you befriend him before? Which gave him another reason to be upset because if you did befriend him before, you didn’t tell Jay anything. In fact, you hadn’t been telling him anything about yourself or your life for a while now.

Which stung.

“Kai’s a good guy. You should be happy for her.” Heeseung made a point, giving Jay a long, meaningful look. There was more he wanted to express, but chose to not push his limits. 

Jay huffed.

Thinking about it, maybe he’d have actually preferred it if you were in love with him.

Upon entering the Sanctuary Café, you noticed that it was already packed. But you were instantly recognised by Taehyun, who greeted you with a bright smile and led you toward a table that was empty, save for your reservation. It was in front of the stage set up for live performances, and it occurred to you then that Kai’s surprise was very likely just that. He prepared a performance for you.

Your eyes widened as you stared at the stage. It had a full instrument set up for a band. Drums, bass, keyboard and an electric guitar. The sight of it made you think of Jay for a bit, but you shook your head and got rid of the thought.

This would be your first date with Kai. The boy who actually doesn’t only want to sleep with you, but also wants to do everything else that real relationships include. Like holding hands and hugging in public and being affectionate without being judged. (The things you wished you could’ve had from Jay.)

A group of three guys entered the stage, none of which were Huening Kai. They glanced toward your table every now and then with a knowing smile, though. You watched them set up their instruments — the guitarist, the bassist and keyboardist. But the drums were empty. 

Because of course, he knew how to play the drums. He was a genius that never flaunted his skills, and the reality of it hit you just now. Huening Kai was a drummer — which was actually sexy as hell.

“Hello, everyone, welcome to the Sanctuary Café,” the guitarist spoke into the microphone with the largest smile. He had a cute dimple as well, and you thought he perfectly fit Kai — whenever he wasn’t closing in on himself. “I’m Kim Taerae, lead singer and guitarist of our band, Toenze. We’ve prepared a very special performance today because one of our members wants to dedicate it to a special girl.”

A round of awes went through the crowd. You looked around in hopes of catching a glance of Kai, but he was nowhere to be seen. Instead, your eyes locked with a person you did not expect to see today — at all.

Jay stood at the back of the café with Heeseung by his side, and you wished you could unsee him. Your heartbeat raced, and your mind felt like you needed to come up to him and apologise. But what would you even be apologising for?

“On my left is our bassist, Choi Beomgyu, and on the keyboard, you’ve got Han Yujin. And, of course, we’re missing a key member — the drummer,” Taerae spoke lightly, his smile hearable in his voice. “Some of you already know him from our previous performances, but for those who have yet to meet him — please give a round of applause to Huening Kai!”

Kai wasn’t even inside the café. He entered through the main door in a dark grey hoodie, the hood covering his face. The whole shop held its breath as he looked up. And when his eyes met yours, a smile spread across his lips. Taking off his hood, he revealed his face and carefully styled bangs. 

From the pocket of his hoodie, he pulled out a bouquet, and when he aimed through the crowd toward you, your heart nearly melted. All thoughts of Jay being here, too, evaporated from your mind. All you could think about was Huening Kai, looking beautiful as ever, heading toward you with a bouquet of flowers.

“For you, my lady.” He knelt down to hand you the flowers, and you stared at him with wide eyes. Grinning, he winked before standing up and heading toward the stage, leaving you absolutely flustered and frozen in place.

“Hello, everyone! This performance is dedicated to the girl that didn’t reject me. It’s for you, Y/N,” he said into the mic jokingly, but there was a hidden meaning behind his words.

The memory of how he asked you out lingered, and you giggled. You could still picture him, approaching you with his hands hidden in the pockets of his jeans. And then he asked you, in the most embarrassing way possible, if you were dating Jay. The smile that spread on his lips when you said that what you had with Jay was only casual was an unforgettable sight, really.

“I can make you forget him,” was Kai’s closing argument, and the confidence with which he had said it sent shivers down your spine. You couldn’t possibly reject him then.

Jay’s glare was palpable. You could feel it at the back of your neck, but you ignored him. Why was he glaring at you anyway? If there were no feelings involved, he shouldn’t care about any of this. 

“The first song we prepared for today is called Higher Than Heaven,” Taerae informed the crowd. “And the second song is Kill the Romeo. Hope you guys like them!”

Both songs were amazing, and both conveyed one pretty clear message: I’m better than him. You couldn’t help but laugh and enjoy yourself while Kai’s band performed. They were good — really good. And eventually, you even stopped sensing Jay’s gaze burning through you. 

Naturally, you turned around to check on the spot where Jay had previously been. Except he wasn’t there. Instead, you were met with Heeseung, who shrugged when he noticed you looking at him.

“He left,” Heeseung mouthed.