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onlyangel4 · 2 months

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Could you do Toto Wolff with wife reader? He's down bad for her and always looking out for her. Like giving her his jacket whenever it rains or when she doesn't have one; tiring her hair when it is getting on her face; holding her hands tightly/ hugging during the celebration and anything else. The team could see that and tease him endlessly. Just something fluff and romantic. Thanks!! :))

wifey. toto wolff.

toto wolff x author wife!reader

in which toto might as well have "i love my wife" tattooed on his forehead

warnings- cursing. the fluffiest fluff known to man.

author's note: this was so much fun to write! please do keep on sending requests, the more detailed the better!

being a busy woman meant that you were not the kind of woman to attend every race and toto understood this well. you were an author with a cult following that were always waiting for your next book to be out. your name had been at the top of the new york best sellers list more times than anyone could keep track of and you were always being praised for your work. this meant book tours, charity events and constantly brainstorming book ideas with your publisher.

this is why it had been so easy to surprise toto by attending the silverstone grand prix. you had told him that you were going to be in los angeles attending a big meeting with an american based publisher. however when you left your home in the english countryside you went to a hotel and not an airport.

usually you would never lie to toto but in your mind this was a good lie and you knew that toto was going to be happy about it so you weren't worried about any negative reaction, you were just glad that you were going to get to see your husband in the middle of an incredibly busy racing season.

the press went mad when they caught sight of you climbing out of a car parked at the paddock gates of silverstone. this was the first race that you had attended this season and every photographer was dying to get a glimpse of the woman that had toto wolff's heart in the palm of her hand.

you gave a graceful smile and a wave to the press but quickly made it through the paddock gates, excited to surprise your husband with your presence. your eyes scanned the people hanging out around the paddock looking for your man and soon enough your eyes landed on a large form clothed in a white shirt and slacks, you could recognize that back anywhere.

the drive to survive crew were currently stood in front of toto filming the team principle as he went about his day. one of the producers noticed you in the back ground and you winked at him giving him a thumbs up, telling him that he should film what happened next. you walked behind toto getting on your tiptoes so your hands could reach his eyes, "guess who?", you giggled.

"schatz!", he smiled brightly as he turned to look at you, his arms instantly going to their rightful place around your waist, "this is a long way from los angeles my love"

"guess my plane got lost", you laughed softly pressing a quick gentle kiss to your husband's lips, hyper aware that the cameras were still there, your husband was a private man you weren't sure whether he would be comfortable properly kissing you in front of a film crew.

"i deserve a proper kiss darling", he hummed before pulling you in for a long loving kiss one hand gently cupping your cheek as the other rubbed circles on the small of your back. once you pulled away toto made sure to keep his arm around your waist, just wanting to have physical contact with you.

toto turned to face the cameras addressing the camera directly, "this is my wife y/n. she has a very busy work life so she doesn't tend to attend races", he explained, "so it is safe to say that this is the best surprise ever", you were just stood by his side looking at your husband with pure adoration behind your eyes as he continued to speak a little to the camera before the crew went to go and talk to the mclaren garage.

toto took your hand and pulled you into the mercedes garage a bright smile on his face. toto leant down to press a kiss to your forehead "i love you so fucking much doll", he whispered into your ear.

"i love you too toto"

you spent fp1 and fp2 sat in the garage with carmen, someone you met when george first signed with mercedes, someone that you considered a good friend. "i swear, i have never seen toto this happy, he was in a bit of a mood this morning but as soon as he saw you he brightened up", carmen explained and it warmed your heart to hear that. you and your husband did not make many public appearances together, both liking to keep your professional lives professional and personal lives personal but whenever people saw the two of you in the same room they were forever commenting on how toto was a different man around you, how he was softer and more forgiving if you were about.

the first two practice sessions of the weekend had not gone as well as toto had hoped but he didn't seem to focus on the bad result as much as usual. instead toto decided to take you on a walk along the paddock giving you a tour of one of his favourite race tracks in the entire world.

you attentively listened as toto spoke to you about the different garages and the stragies he thought each team was going to use that weekend. he even introduces you to various people along the paddock, always introducing you as his wife as if it was not obvious by the way your fingers were interlocked. as you walked typical english weather began to hit the paddock, starting with a light drizzle of rain that within five minutes turned into full pelting rain drops.

at this point toto was half was through his little tour of the paddock and he did not want to stop so instead he dipped into a near by hospitality suite and stole grabbed an umbrella. he quickly returned to your side opening the umbrella and holding it over your head keeping you completely sheltered from the rain but he was still in the rain. "you can get in here too toto", you stated.

"but then you will not be fully covered, i can't have that dear", he spoke matter of factly and you knew better than to argue with your husband so you continued to walk with him. by the time you were back at the mercedes garage your husband was sopping wet and you were bone dry but toto was happy as ever, how couldn't he be? he had you by his side.

the next day you had decided to stay at your hotel for fp3 as your husband had kept you rather busy the night prior and you decided you wanted a little bit of a rest before the qualifying session. you had just gotten out of the shower when your phone buzzed with a phone call from your husband, one that you answered as soon as it popped up on your screen.

"schatz, the car is fast. we were first and second fastest"

"oh toto that is great love"

"i might be a little overzealous but i have a good feeling about this weekend. but that might just be because my good luck charm is in the paddock"

you laughed down the phone, "well dear i will be there in an hour to watch qualifying"

"okay honey, i love you"

"i love you too"

meanwhile both lewis and george had overheard toto's phone conversation with you and were giggling like school boys, "man he is so whipped", george spoke making lewis laugh.

"it is cute, they have been like this forever. when i joined merc they had been married a year and they were just as soppy now as they were then"

the drivers were just amazed as to how a man so intimidating could become a massive softie whenever it came to you.

your make up had taken a little longer than you had anticipated but there was no way you were going to miss the qualifying session so you had rushed getting ready and getting to the mercedes garage. in doing so you had managed to forget to tie your hair up. the wind in the paddock always made your hair go wild so whenever you attended a race you brought an ermegency hair band with you.

toto noticed that your hair was down as soon as you walked into the garage. you had been talking to carmen when toto had come up behind you and carded his fingers through your hair, carefully collecting it up into a neat ponytail while you continued you conversation. once satisfied with how your hair looked he kissed your shoulder, "i know that is how you like it my love", you thanked him already used to how doting your husband could be.

the qualifying session had been one of the best that you had seen. and the smile on your husband's face warmed your heart, there was just something so nice about watching toto wholeheartedly enjoy his job. you had been by his side through it all. you had been married to him for one year when he became the team principle of mercedes, so you had seen the highs and lows of the job. you had been the one to comfort toto when the news of lewis signing to ferrari hit. you were always there to help him pick up the pieces so it was nice to get to see the good parts of his job and how happy it made your husband.

"love come here", toto had spoken once the session was over and you did as you had been asked making your way over to where toto was sat at a desk with his laptop in front of him. he pulled you to sit in his lap. he then showed you all of the lap times thinking out loud about the possible strategies they could use in the race to maintain lap times like that. you didn't properly understand the things that he was saying but you didn't care you could listen to his voice forever and you knew that talking things out loud was how he worked best and you were more than willing to be the person that he spoke to.

the actual race had been the most thrilling one that you had ever been to. it had been complete emotional whiplash watching three british drivers fight tooth and nail for a home win. you had gotten worried when george dnf'd as the chances of a mercedes win had halved but you did not let your face show it. you just kept your eyes glued to the screens in the garage, occasionally glancing at your husband in race mode just to check in and make sure that he was not over thinking. when lewis took the lead you began to chew on your lip, just hoping that this was it. that lewis was going to win a race. and when his car crossed that finish line you burst out into a cheer, the brightest smile on your lips.

you were celbrating with a few of the engineers that you knew really well when toto ran over to you he hugged you tightly pulling your feet off the ground for a moment before placing you back down just so he could kiss you, "i have to go to the podium but i had to see you first my love", he spoke before his assistant dragged him away and towards the podium.

leaving you stood there watching him. the proudest wife in the entire world.

#f1 x reader #f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 smut #toto wolff fluff #toto wolff x reader #toto wolff #mercedes f1 #formula one #formula 1 #mercedes amg f1 #mercedes amg petronas

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highvern · 3 months

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When in Rome TEASER

Pairing: Choi Seungcheol x f!reader

Genre: fluff, smut, angst

warnings: alcohol consumption, cheating, penetrative sex, nudity, mentions of drug use, more tbd

Length: tbd, teaser: ~3k

Note: excited to have this for the @svthub world tour collab! thank u to everyone who helped me brain storm and ofc @gyuswhore for dealing with the insanity that is my brain

Summary: After months of no contact, Seungcheol isn't sure what to expect when he sees you again at Jeonghan's wedding. He's prepared to apologize, to grovel, to bear the weight of a cold shoulder. Whatever it takes to have you back, his best friend since diapers; or whatever will ensure the last third of your trio has the best day of his life. But when he overhears the most recent development in your relationship, he must come to terms with something he was never prepared for, or risk losing you for good.

m.list

Leave a comment if you would like to be tagged when this is posted on July 7th. YOU MUST HAVE AN AGE IN BIO TO BE ADDED!

This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked.

There are fewer places Seungcheol hates more than airports. Dentist offices, his grandparents’ house during the holidays when they ask about grandkids, and even the time he ran into his elementary school science teacher the first time he was buying condoms at the pharmacy, all were more favorable than the hustle and bustle of an international airport.

Seungcheol likes to be straightforward and direct. Something that becomes seemingly at odds with the average person traveling because at the one place everyone has somewhere to be, they act as if they have all the time in the world.

But the simple thought that it's all temporary, that his personal ninth circle of hell is the only thing standing between him and a week in Italy is enough to grin and bear it.

On the other side of the terminal, his best friends are waiting for him. It’s not as if they haven’t seen each other for long; Jeonghan and Sofie were at bar trivia last week as their last hurrah before tying the knot. As usual they wiped the floor with everyone, rousing several allegations of cheating that Jeonghan deserved. But Seungcheol is about to watch them get married and it makes him a little misty around the eyes because he loves his friends more than anything.

The only concern, which is less of a concern and more of a titanic size anchor sinking in his gut, is that you’re Sofie’s maid of honor. And you haven’t spoken to him since New Years when you revealed you were moving to New York with your boyfriend, Johnny.

Another place Seungcheol dreads, right next to the airport, is anywhere Johnny happens to be. He’s everything you aren’t: abrasive, arrogant, catty, disorganized. And those are just the traits at the front of the alphabet.

You had a plan. A list of criteria he had to listen to over and over again after each failed date. Even the guys Seungcheol set you up with after carefully vetting didn’t seem to make the mark. It was respectable, commendable. You wouldn’t settle for anything less than “perfect.” Whatever that meant to you.

At a bar, three years ago, Johnny approached you. Seungcheol watched from across the table as you mentally ran over your checklist. Johnny met the physical ones: tall, good hygiene, well kept appearance. The other things would need more investigation. What did he do for work? Was he close with his family? Kids? Opinions on cheating at bar trivia?

The more Seungcheol learned about Johnny after your detailed debrief from a few dates the more confused he became. Johnny worked in banking. You hated finance bros and called them scum of the dating pool. He was an only child and only talked to his parents on holidays and birthdays. You had grand dreams of close grandparents and houses full of cousins. He didn’t want kids. You did. He didn’t think bar trivia was that serious. Seungcheol watched you threaten Jeonghan’s life on more than one occasion over the use of Shazam during the music round. Johnny was everything you said you didn’t want.

And then you followed him across the country after two years of dating cut with three breakups.

It didn’t make sense.

When Seungcheol pulled you aside after you announced you’d be moving, trying to figure why you thought living with the man who once asked if you really needed to wash bath towels if you only use them when you’re already clean, you told him to mind his business. Later that night, after enough drinks to make everything blurry, you two got into a screaming match on the sidewalk with your shared friends attempting to play referee. It was the last time you two spoke.

In over twenty five years of friendship, founded on the backs of elementary school shenanigans under a reign of terror of one Jeonghan Yoon, you and Seungcheol’s real fights can be counted on one hand.

The sixth grade field trip where you and Jeonghan left him out, senior year of highschool when the girl Seungcheol took to prom argued about his parents taking more pictures with you than her, and junior year of college when Seungcheol caught you making out with his frat brother after ditching him under the guise of having a stomach bug. That was it. Three fights, all of which were resolved within a week because as stubborn as you both are, you’re best friends.

Five and a half months of not speaking, except when Seungcheol texted a half hearted apology and you responded with a quarter of forgiveness. That was it.

But Seungcheol won’t dwell. He refuses to make things awkward for Jeonghan and Sofie during the most special week of their lives. Knowing you, you’ve probably already come to the same resolution. The only person you’re closer to than Seungcheol is Jeonghan with Sofie a close second. If there is anyone you two will agree to put aside an argument for, it's them.

The sun has already begun setting when he makes it through customs and out towards the Arrivals, painting everything in buttery yellow.

“SEUNGCHEOOOOOOOOOLLLLLL!” Sofie screams, hands cupped around her mouth.

She’s half outside the cherry red sports car. An Intermeccanica Italia Spyder because Seungcheol knows three things in life: expensive watches, expensive whiskey, and expensive cars. Sofie’s family happened to have plenty of the last and Seungcheol assumed the first two as well.

When Sofie became his study partner in law school she ended up following him on Instagram. He assumed from the way she carried herself, perfect posture with tailored clothes and an ‘air of society’ as you called it, that she was well off. But then, during a late night gossip session, you and he did a deep dive and found out Sofie wasn’t just well off. Her family had more money than God.

But everything on the surface was a contrast to who Sofie really was. Heiress to a fortune but studied more than anyone in their class just to graduate second. Perfect posture and tailored clothes are a stark contrast to her favorite bar where she’d outdrink anyone, and cheer when the prize for trivia was cheap plastic margarita glasses.

Or right now, where she belts Seungcheol’s name again like some drunk frat boy while sitting in a car worth more than his life.

Seungcheol jogs to where she waits, already smiling.

“I would have brought a ‘Welcome back from rehab’ sign but my mom thought you’d be embarrassed,” Sofie says as she hugs him over the console.

“At least make it ‘welcome home from prison’ so people won’t walk in my way.”

“I’ll make sure Jeonghan remembers you have a preference,” she calls over the wind.

Technically, the house (which is really a mansion) is almost an hour from the airport. With Sofie’s driving it only takes twenty minutes in which Seungcheol thinks he might need to start going to church.

The pebbled driveway crunches underneath the tires as they approach.

In the evening light, the house is more daunting. An imposing stone facade rises from the ground, more akin to a small castle than an actual home. Smooth stone with detailed carvings, windows with huge shutters, and on the top floor, a balcony, fenced with wrought iron, juts out.

Even after years of seeing pictures, Seungcheol still can’t believe his friend grew up here.

Sofie throws the car in park right in front of the door before jumping out.

“By the way, there were some issues with one of the rooms.” Sofie drops her voice, “My aunt and uncle are fighting, so I hope you don’t mind sharing?”

Seungcheol knows most of the guys coming to the wedding. Worst case scenario he’s stuck in a twin size bunk bed with a weird cousin. “Yeah, that’s fine.”

“Perfect! Just leave your stuff, everyones out back.” Sofie pushes him as hard as she can manage which isn’t much at all given she’s five foot nothing.

The garden is filled with bodies upon bodies crowded together, some old, some young. Seungcheol recognizes a few faces in the mix: Soonyoung, Joshua, Seungkwan. More friends from law school. Jeonghan’s sister waves from across the way. Everyone seems to be paying attention to whatever is happening at the iron garden table.

And then, like a scene in a movie, everyone parts for a second and time freezes.

Seungcheol would recognize you anywhere. Even if he can’t see your face, he knows it's you. The curve of your shoulders, the tilt of your head. The bark of laughter as your chin drops forward. He knows it's you and the weight in his stomach lightens and leadens in an odd cycle.

He missed you.

Then everything comes back into real time. Wine and cards. Then he sees the chips on the table, your stack to the side significantly higher than anyone else's.

Months of ruminating over what he’d do when reunited fly out the window. Seungcheol doesn’t waste a minute as he approaches, hand on the back of your chair as he peeks over your head to sneak a glance at your hand.

“Who let you talk them into poker?”

You’re already smiling when you tilt back to look at him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Oh, how he missed you.

“She said she didn’t know how to play,” an old man grumbles from the side.

Seungcheol doesn’t recognize him but he’s got the same expression as all the people you’ve sharked before: mildly impressed and slightly murderous. Two other guys sit at the table, one old enough to be his grandfather looks almost proud. Seokmin fills that last seat, head in his hands at being swindled so easily.

“I said,” you start, throwing your gaze to him. “I hadn’t played in a while.”

You look back up at Seungcheol for some kind of support. Eyes round and innocent in a way you both know you’re not. Pool, cards, darts, any game a man a few drinks in could beat you at was easy fodder for your con. Usually it ended with free drinks, sometimes money, but mostly it’s Seungcheol playing referee for the disillusioned guys you swindled while wearing a bright grin.

Tossing a few chips towards the three men at table with a smart “don’t spend it all in one place,” you rise and throw your arms around Seungcheol like everything is normal.

“Hi,” you whisper into his neck.

Seungcheol’s hands are already curled around your waist, pulling you in tight. “Hi.”

“I missed you.”

“I see that you can’t even greet your best friend.” Jeonghan coughs from the side.

Seungcheol squeezes you tighter at the jab. It’s Jeonghan’s wedding but the last time Seungcheol saw him was last week when dropping the couple off at the airport to come here. He’s far more interested in dragging out his reunion with you as long as possible. “I’m in the middle of that actually.”

He scoffs in response, walking away. “Whatever, I see too much of you anyway.”

Another two hours of celebrating, filled with drunken toasts and more card games with Sofie’s family that only end with you digging into their pockets even deeper, fly by before the exhaustion of a day starting in one continent and ending in another catches up to him. You’re too busy arguing over if Jeonghan cheated in the last round to notice Seungcheol slipping away from the table and towards the door leading inside.

Sofie is in the kitchen just beyond, another bottle of wine sloshing in hand as she talks animatedly on the phone. “Okay, look. I am on vacation. I’m about to get married. I literally left notes for everything I'm not working on during my wedding week. Figure it out. Bye.”

She hangs up without response, tossing her phone on the counter before taking a swig straight from the bottle.

“Good?” Seungcheol asks.

“Oh, you know, just the usual. I leave and suddenly no one knows how to do their job.” Sofie rolls her eyes. “What’s up? Need another glass?”

She raises the same bottle and the thought of more wine nearly turns his stomach.

Seungcheol brushes her off, moving to the sink and rinsing his glass with finality. “I think I’m gonna crash for the night.”

“Really?” she asks. “But the party just started!”

“For you maybe, some of us have been cramped on a plane all day.” He feels it. In his back and knees. The cramp in his neck from passing out halfway through and waking up bent at ninety degrees. And the hours he spent agonizing through emails with the inflight WiFi because even on vacation he can’t sit still for more than one minute. But now it’s a ticking time bomb before he curls up in a chair and passes out until morning.

Sofie snatches his glass before shooing him away from the sink and taking his place. “I forgot you’re an old man now.”

“You’re the same age as me?”

“Anyway,” she sings. “I know we promised you’d have your own room but—”

“That’s fine. I really don’t mind rooming with one of the guys.”

“Well… you and Y/N were the only ones not sharing and she said she wouldn’t mind for the weekend.”

“Huh?”

“I thought it wouldn’t be a big deal! Seokmin and Kwan agreed to share and room with Josh so things are pretty tight but I can see if we can switch things around and—”

“No, if she’s okay with it then it's fine.” Seungcheol says. “We just haven’t talked since, you know?”

Sofie seems to soften at that. “Seems like everything was fine outside.”

“Yeah,” Seungcheol sighs. “I missed her.”

“I know she missed you too.”

“She said that?”

“Oh please, neither of you have to say anything, you’re both pathetic,” she says while pouring another glass. “But I think this weekend will be good for you guys! Like old times.”

Old times. Before the fight. Before you moved away.

“Yeah, just like old times… At least we aren’t sharing a bed, right?” He jokes.

“Actually,” Sofie grimaces.

The one solace Seungcheol is gifted is the bed is massive. Almost the entire room is dominated by the plush mattress, a dresser, and a chair in the corner. He considers sleeping in that instead for all of a minute before realizing you probably wouldn’t let him and the absolute torture it’ll do to his neck.

At least the forced proximity won’t be awkward since you’ve silently agreed to leave the past behind you. He can’t imagine Sofie would consider this solution if you were still mad at him, even if it was her wedding week. The realization lightens the weight on his shoulders an ounce more.

Seungcheol throws his bag down at the foot of the bed. It’s no big deal; sharing a room with you. Childhood sleepovers had been the norm, a few nights in college you’d shared a clunky old twin bed when you both were too drunk to find your ways home separately. Your first apartment together, when you two had to share a mattress on the floor for the first weeks because all your money went into paying rent, flash in his head. Old times.

Thirty minutes later, freshly showered and in clean clothes, Seungcheol heads back downstairs for a glass of water before bed.

He remembers where the kitchen is after Sofie’s short tour, trapezing through the huge house easily. Behind different closed doors he catches glimpses of pre-sleep conversations: couples spitting harsh whispers to each other, a few cartoonish voices reading bedtime stories to an audience of childish giggles. But when he reaches the threshold of his destination Seungcheol stumbles into an entirely different atmosphere.

“You haven’t told him yet?”

“No. I didn’t feel like the kind of thing to say over text.”

“Well you could have called him!”

“And say what? ‘Hey Cheol, I know we haven’t talked in months because we got into a huge fight about my boyfriend but Johnny and I–’”

Seungcheol strains his ears to hear the rest of your sentence but fails to decipher anything before Jeonghan’s voice cuts in. Whatever ‘it’ is, you’re not ready to tell him.

“Just tell him.” Jeonghan says through a mouthful of something. “I’m sure he’ll be happy.”

His mind races with a million possibilities, all related to Johnny, all things you wouldn’t have told your best friend of over twenty years because of some stupid fight. Something you don’t know how to tell him over the phone, something you need to tell in person.

The realization strikes like lightning.

You and Johnny are engaged.

Thirst forgotten, Seungcheol turns back the way he came. He thinks through the new information as he stumbles up the stairs.

How could you not tell him? How could he make you feel like you couldn’t tell him? How long have you been hiding this? And why did Jeonghan and Sofie know before he did? Was everyone in on the secret and he was the odd man out?

You and Johnny weren’t even that serious when you moved away; or, that's what Seungcheol thought. In all honesty he fully believed it was some joke when you told him. A drunken practical joke taken too far but then the boxes were packed away and the moving truck came and you left with it.

Everything else hits him in the seclusion of the bedroom. Your shared room. At least for the rest of the week.

Seungcheol isn’t happy. He is, but because you’re you, argument aside. If Johnny makes you happy enough to tie your lives together then he can bite his tongue. You’re his best friend and by default he’d never think anyone was good enough for you but if you loved Johnny, if you were this serious about him, then Seungcheol would support you.

Even if it meant there would always be a Johnny sized ravine between you.

Taglist: @tomodachiii @cvpidyunho @miniseokminnies @ddaengpotate @arycutie

@gaebestie @primoppang @gyuguys @mine-gyu @doremifasire

@missminhoe @toplinehyunjin @crvs4vldtn @prettygyuuu @sliceofwoozi

@writingbarnes @dokyeomkyeom @christinewithluv @minwonfairy @idkjustlovingbts

@wobblewobble822 @futuristicenemychaos @seungkw1 @horanghaezone @jespecially

@scoupsjin @isabellah29 @luvseungcheol @crisle19 @iamawkwardandshy

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foxbirdy · 2 months

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I did a group q&a for my crew yesterday while we had an Americorps rep doing a field visit for us, & truly 90% of the career advice I can give to anyone trying to work in natural resources is to do cowboy shit. Be a linecook at the Grand Canyon, because that will let you take that job running snowcat runs in Yellowstone for the winter. Then you can find a raft company that will train you to guide for free. Then throw your name in to be an aurora borealis tour guide in the Arctic Circle. Work as a gardener in a national forest nursery. Be a deckhand on a charter sailboat. Be a backpacking trip leader. Get on a trail crew. Be that guy that gets paid to look for woodpecker nests in forest disturbed by a hurricane. Be a ski lift operator. Be that guy who drives a Carolina skiff down the Everglades to find baby alligators. Cut down invasive trees with a machete in the jungle. Be that guy who drives up and down 101, hiking into the old growth to plant microphones that listen for spotted owl calls. Be a backcountry ranger. Live in a tent on a desert island looking for invasive crazy ants. Most of these jobs allow you to "live for free," gaining experience and a modest paycheck while having housing provided for you. It compiles and compiles and compiles until you know how to do a little bit of everything, and know where you want to take that. And you get to do cowboy shit!

#it aint fucking around if it's getting you somewhere!#the last 5% is to turn on alerts for usajobs 💪#beckett.txt #dirtbag tag

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sugarlywhispers · 1 day

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b.katsuki x reader (fem) | pro hero!dynamight x famous singer!reader a.n; lol a lil something that came to my mind while listening to ariana grande - love me harder <3

thinking about Hero Dynamight getting the mission to protect the new rising star singer that had received several harsh death threads.

he hates it. despises the fact that he will have to babysit a young singer. he thinks–oh no, he knows this is vengeance from his own company for all the times he caused havoc himself. so, he doesn't have a choice. he has to do it.

even though he knows he should have searched for your name and your case, he doesn't. call it arrogance or petty behavior, he doesn't care shit about it. so he goes blind into the airport to wait for your arrival. but as time goes by, more and more people start to gather around and before he actually realizes it, the airport is fucking packed with reporters and fans all around. there's too many fucking people. he even sees round face, deku and half and half bastard at a distance... AS FANS. losers.

but shit, so you're bigger than what he thought.

the doors open, and the amount of screams and yells deafen him. he immediately turns his hearing aids off, afraid he’ll go deafer than he already is thanks to his quirk. when he looks up, there you come walking with a big bunch of bulky bodyguards surrounding you in a circle, yet they are useless against the amount of people trying to reach out to you. it’s fucking chaos, and for him to admit that when he has seen chaos right to its eyes, it’s a lot.

he received instructions to stay away, to just interfere if things get heavy. but damn, it is already heavily chaotic enough, specially when something or someone makes you trip. and that’s it. he starts pushing extras away to get closer to you, and as people recognize him in his hero gear and suit, they start moving away on their own will, cuz he is fucking Hero Dynamight.

your bodyguards help him with pushing more people away as he finally reaches you. without saying anything, he picks you up bridal style and starts walking towards the exit door of the airport to the special black van waiting for you. it gets easier to walk, thanks to how scared most people are of him. Hero Dynamight is the most respected and feared Hero of them all, because if paparazzis don’t leave him alone, he’d blow their cameras off. simple as that.

that’s how you met Hero Dynamight for the first time. you were told a professional hero would accompany you for the rest of your tour due to some threads some people were sending you. on your opinion, it was nothing new, nothing your team of bodyguards couldn’t handle. however, if your manager thought that you needed a freaking Pro Hero in that team, it probably was more serious than you thought. so you said yes. now, of all the heroes around the world, you could not have guessed this massive man, all big and authoritative –and freaking handsome– was the Hero Dynamight most of your fans shipped you with.

and as Hero Dynamight walked out of the airport with you in his arms, you could already read the fanfictions.

“T-thank you, I’m-...” you speak to him as he sits you on the back seat of the van. you feel weird, tingly and excited all over. you didn’t expect at all for him to do that. in fact, you were expecting to meet him at the hotel, where your manager told you he would wait for your arrival in the country.

but he cuts you off, saying, “Next time, watch where you walk, idiot,” and with that he closes the door of the van. but not before you could hear him grunt under his breath, “fucking extras, annoying pieces of sh-...”

you can’t help yourself but to think: wow, what a jerk.

you learned very quickly how a pain in the ass he could be. and how insanely attractive you found his attitude.

don't get me wrong, you'd still fight him tooth and nail when he is being an idiot. but damn, he is so handsome.

as time goes by and Katsuki gets to see you perform live, he gets to admit it.

Bakugou is… surprised. he is surprised by the exceptional talent you have as you perform your songs, with complicated choreos and still having perfect rhythm to sing live. he is impressed. very much so.

he stands there, on the side of the stage, arms closed over his chest and paying attention to everything and everyone around you.

and then, the song he likes the most from you starts. he frowns, confused. it wasn’t in your list for this tour, he knows it by memory already. But as you begin singing, you turn to the side, right where he is standing, and as you sing you look right at him and smile.

oh. his eyes open wide. you are singing it, for him. to him.

he feels heat in his cheeks. and a warmth in his chest that makes his whole body tingle. fuck, he's down bad.

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jeffcbliss · 23 days

Text

Michael Anthony of Van Halen, Chickenfoot, Sammy Hagar & The Circle - "Best of All Worlds" tour; MGM Grand Garden Arena; Las Vegas, NV (8-9-24). @RealMadAnthony @chickenfoot @VanHalen

Photo: Jeff Bliss

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storm-angel989 · 7 months

Text

Outside the office

Longtime reader and writer. First time poster! Let me know what you think- I have pages of this story to share if there is any interest. <3 Enjoy!

“Vox, these pancakes are the best!”

Another sleepy Sunday morning at home. Or at least, the place I called home these days. My arrival to hell six years ago had left me uneasy- displaced from the only world I had ever known. Upon my arrival, Lucifer immediately deposited me in one of the biggest power circles in Hell. With a kiss on the cheek and a warning to behave- lest I end up like my mother and father- he disappeared, off to running hell or heaven- I honestly wasn’t sure at this point.

“Not better than mine though, right Princessa?” Valentino’s voice rang with teasing disapproval.

I caught his eye and grinned. “I don’t know. Last I checked you didn’t put strawberries AND chocolate chips in your pancakes.”

“Take that!” Vox semi shouted. “Even your wife agrees I’m the better cook!”

Lighthearted bickering broke out between the two of them. I caught the eye of Velvette, the only other girl in our group and she rolled her eyes, as amused as I was.

I wouldn't have guessed when I first arrived in hell that these three demons would eventually be the family I had left behind. Upon my arrival in hell, Lucifer warned that that these demons were three of the most powerful overlords in this ring of hell. Coming from a world where demons were slaughtered on sight- and the opposite held true for angels- meeting a demon off the battlefield for the first time took every inch of my self control to not allow the instincts I worked so hard to develop to overtake me.

When I first met Vox, I was taken aback. For a demon, he was surprisingly friendly. According to Lucifer, he controlled the television airwaves and heavily utilized video and electricity to exert control over a host of sinners. Walking into his studio for the first time felt like stepping into energy territory- at least until the demon spoke.

“First time meeting a demon?” Vox seemed amused. “Nothing to be afraid of, I assure you. At least, not for you Princess.” He extended his hand and I shook it out of politeness. His twisted smile grew wider, revealing a set of sharp teeth. “Don’t worry your highness, we will take excellent care of her.”

Lucifer looked unconcerned. “You know the consequences if you don’t.” His phone rang and he looked at the caller ID. “Sorry to rush out on you, but I have a meeting to get to. Ensure you follow through on your end of the bargain.” His eyes flashed red, a non verbal “or else”.

“Of course,” Vox replied smoothly. “We have her living quarters all set up- she’s welcome to settle in after I give her the grand tour. And don’t worry- our resident fashionista will help her…blend in.” He reached out as if to push my hair to the side but stopped himself. “She’s in excellent hands, your highness.”

Lucifer looked unconcerned. A cold fear settled in my gut, followed by anger. He was leaving me? In the hands of this…creature?

“See you later darling. Enjoy all Hell has to offer.” He leaned over and kissed my cheek before he vanished, leaving me in the sole company of the TV demon.

“Before we go any further, I need your phone.” Vox reached his hand out.

I hesitated but pulled my pink flip phone out of my pocket and handed it to him. He dropped it on the ground and crushed it beneth his foot.

“Hey! Why did you do that?” I demanded.

“That technology? Ancient and easy to hack. Here. I preloaded Lucifers number, our numbers and that’s honestly the only contacts you need. Not only that, its the latest model. The public won’t have access to it until next month.” He handed me a rectangular shaped phone.

“And this.” he handed me a matching pink watch. “Don’t take it off. It allowed me to know your vitals and your location at all times. If something was to happen to you, we could easily get to you.”

Wouldn’t that be the first thing they took off? I wondered but didn’t say it. Vox hit a few buttons and showed me how to unlock it just by looking at the screen. After a few minutes of playing with it, I started to grasp the concept.

“Lucifer wasn’t lying when he said you were smart. Come. Follow me.”

Vox turned to walk away and I trailed behind him.

“Well, might as well show you around. Couple things to be aware of. Obviously as Princess of Hell you can do as you please but know that Valentino's studio, Velvette’s runway and my office are strictly for business. Enter at the wrong time and you may end up seeing things that…you’re not quite used to.”

He pressed a button and an elevator door slid open. I stepped inside and I followed, standing quietly next to him. The sense of unease hadn’t left me since the moment I arrived in hell and the further into the building I ventured the deeper that fear became.

“First floor is the entry. Second is my office and studio. Third and fourth belong to Val’s workspace and the fifth floor belongs to Velvette. The Sixth floor is our living space- that’s where you’ll be joining us. Your quarters are up there as well. Living room and kitchen are shared spaces, though we all value the privacy of our own bedrooms.” He smiled a bit darkly. “You’re welcome to join us for movie night.”

Since when did demons watch movies?

The elevator dinged to three and I stepped out behind him. The scene infront of us was pure chaos. Demons in various shapes, forms and stages of dress hustled around the open room. Clothes and racks were scattered about, being tossed aside and rehung quicker that I thought possible. Against a white backdrop, three models stood as lightbulbs went off around them.

Unlike Vox with his TV shaped head, the demon in charge looked relatively human. Her purple, red and black hair was pulled up high in two ponytails- teased and curled to perfection. Her clothes boated the same color scheme as her hair, and she wore impossibly high black heels. It took me a moment to realize her color scheme was the same as Vox’s.

I watched her bark orders in a way that would have made my father proud. As she spoke, her perfectly manicured fingers flew across the keyboard of her phone. I felt myself flush, suddenly overly aware of my own broken fingernails and very clear out of fashion clothing.

Vox seemed undisturbed by the hustle, walking through it with ease.“Velvettle darling, meet the Princess.”

She looked up for a moment and her expression twisted in what looked like annoyance.

“You got a name, Princess?”

They both looked at me expectantly. I felt my face flush with embarrassment. Had Lucifer really dropped me off to total strangers without so much as sharing my name?

“My name is reader.” I answered with a steadiness I didn’t quite feel in my gut. “Morningstar.”

“Well, reader, if this is how heaven is dressing these days you need more help than I thought.” She snorted in contempt. “Don’t worry love, we’ll get you fixed up in no time. After all, if you’re spending time with us you need to look the part.”

Vox grinned. “Have fun you two. Vel, be a dear and bring her upstairs when you’re done.”

She turned away. “Yeah, yeah. You don’t need to tell me what to do.” She snapped her fingers. “Get to it.”

Without another word I was whisked away into another room. Any sense of modesty vanished as Velvette's team inspected every inch of my body. Unlike the angels, they had no shame in ensuring I was plucked, waxed, and trimmed to Velvette’s desire. With all the strange hands touching me I felt trapped, and did my best to disassociate. I had to if I wanted to survive down here. Wasn’t that my fathers first rule? Show no fear.

Velvette must have noticed my discomfort. After the waxing she shooed everyone away for a moment and handed me a bottle of water.

“Don’t worry love, you’ll get used to it. Quicker, actually if you’re here with us.”

I held the bottle and she rolled her eyes, reaching over and twisting the cap open. “No one here will hurt you. Outside of Lucifer’s domain, this is the safest place in all of hell for you. Promise. Now drink- I don’t want to be on the receiving end of Lucifer’s wrath if you fall ill on the first day.”

I took a sip and she turned the chair I was in towards the mirror, running her fingers through my blonde hair. “You need some deep conditioning, a style and a few highlights, but your overall color is fantastic. You have a lovely shape- for a half angel. And those eyes…” She stepped around and cupped my chin. “Lovely. No one in hell has blue eyes like those.”

“Thank you.” I replied softly.

Velvette grinned. “Well look, the princess speaks! Look, let’s finish up here and get your wardrobe set up and sent up. Val is taking us out tonight, and you need to look the part. It would be an embarrassment to our brand otherwise.” She snapped her fingers and a team of demons hurried over.

“Who is Val?” I asked as she leaned back against the counter, watching her employees work.

“Valentino. You’ll meet him soon enough. Right pain in the ass he is. Love him though.”

Right. Lucifer warned me about him. Valentino controlled the porn industry in the same way Vox controlled the broadcasts and Velvette controlled fashion and social media. I couldn’t even imagine what my father would think if he knew...I pushed the thought from my head. My father was gone. This was my reality now.

“And you three- Vox, Velvette, Valentino- you’re…royalty?” I asked to fill the silence.

She laughed. “Royalty? Not far off. We’re overlords. We own millions of souls between the three of us.”

That nervous feeling rekindled in my stomach. “You own souls? What does that mean?”

Velvette shrugged. “It means mortals in the human realm, or sinners down here made a deal with us in exchange for their souls. And we collected.”

If there wasn’t a pair of scissors next to my ear I would have jumped away. Owning souls? How did that even happen? Moreso that went against everything an angel stood for. Or at least, everything my angelic half used to stand for.

“Oh relax, your soul is safe.” Velvette snorted at my expression. “Lucifer would kill anyone who even attempted to make a move on your eternal being. Trust me dear, you have nothing to worry about. At least, not from us.”

Across the studio, someone yelled her name and she pranced off without so much as a goodbye.

What felt like an eternity later, I was led to the elevator by Velvette. My blonde hair had indeed been trimmed and highlighted, blown out and teased. My broken fingernails were hidden under tiny plastic red surfboards and my normally bare face was covered in makeup.

“Just come down to my studio each morning. I’ll get you dressed and done up. Nothing to worry about.” Velvette assured me as we stepped out of the elevator.

I wasn’t quite sure what to expect when I tried to imagine where demons lived, but the room I stepped into was the exact opposite of anything I could have dreamed up. Dark hardwood floors were covered with plush rugs in deep blues, blacks and reds. Couches on the left were placed in a U shape in front of a large TV and to the right was a full kitchen.Towering floor to ceiling windows covered the far wall and a table with six office chairs sat in front of it. Towards the left there were five hallways and small alcoves scattered throughout the room hosted signs of the floor's inhabitants. Photos of the V’s, computer setups, a notebook with scribbles and swatches of fabric, to name a few items.

“You’re the fifth hallway down,” Velvette said, leading me towards the left. “If you get lost, look up. They’re labeled.”

I looked up towards the doorway entrance of each and sure enough, the names Valentino, Vox, blank, Velvette and Princess were labeled.

“Why is mine labeled Princess?” I asked as she led me down that hallway. “You couldn’t have had that much time to design.”

Velvette laughed. “Took hardly anytime at all. The boss man sent us a list and cash- we obliged. Your comfort here is of upmost importance.” She pushed open a second door and stepped inside.

I expected dark colors, blacks and reds but to my surprise the room was decorated in a sea of purples, grays and whites. A bed took up the center of the room and off to the left was a small living room area- complete with matching couches and a television. A desk with a pink computer set up sat to the right of the bed. The three doors on the remaining walls led to the walk in closet and bathroom, Velvette explained.

“Anything else you need? Kitchen is stocked. If you need something, write it on the whiteboard on the fridge. Housekeeping will bring it up.” Velvette continued. “Same with bathroom products or anything really. We want to make sure you’re happy. Oh!” She snapped her fingers and pushed open one of the doors. “Your public clothes are in my studio- along with everyone else’s. Except mine, of course. I dress myself. But in our space comfort is important. I personally chose the loungewear in your closet. Not that you can leave the building but when you’re ready to get dressed in the morning, come down to my studio and we’ll get you taken care of.” Her eyes narrowed. “Loungewear shouldn’t be seen anywhere except up here and my studio. Understood?”

“Yes, thank you. This is lovely.” Lovely was an understatement. This place was a place compared to my fathers house.

Velvette shrugged. “Just want to make sure you feel at home Princess. Come now, I’m sure Val and Vox are ready to go.”

“Go where, again?” I asked, following her back down the hallway and to the elevator.

She hit the button and stepped in. “Dinner. I’m starved, I can’t believe you’re not. And Val always picks the best places.”

Lucifer hadn’t said anything about the food down here. I wondered what exactly demons ate and a shiver ran up my spine. Babies, probably. Or corpses. Maybe small animals? The phone in my pocket vibrated and I opened up the text just as the elevator door opened. I followed Velvette into the lobby I had entered earlier, keeping my eyes on my phone.

“Settling in alright love?” The sender name read “Uncle Lucy”.

Cute. He was as much of an Uncle to me as Vox was my boyfriend. Still, maybe he could answer my questions. What do demons eat? I typed back furiously.

Three little dots appeared at the bottom of my screen and his answer popped up.

Depends. Is Valentino choosing the place? Or Vox?

Valentino, I typed back.

Three little dots and then, Steak most likely. Velvette dressed you?

I stared at the phone and typed back. Steak? Made of what, exactly?

What is steak made of in the angelic realm? Cow?

I scowled at the phone. I thought demons ate babies. And each other.

His response was instantaneous. LOL. Oh my sweet, that is something I would have warned you about. Everything you eat and drink is safe as long as you’re with the V’s or myself.

Okay, I typed back.

Be safe love. And stick close to the V’s while you’re out. This scene is much, much more different than you’re used to.

I wanted to snap my phone shut but instead the screen went black. I sort of missed it- snapping a phone shut at the end of a call was incredibly sadifying.

“Ah, so you must be the princessa”

His low drawl pulled me from my thoughts and I looked up to see the red eyes of a demon I hadn’t met yet. Involuntarily, I took a step back.

“Pleasure to meet you sweetheart.” His smile, much like the others revealed a set of sharp teeth. He stood tall, taller than even my father with a thin frame. His eyes were hidden behind a pair of heart shaped glasses. Hearts adorned the red jacket he wore, and white fluff surrounded the edges and the trim. Under he wore what looked like a black suit. He reached out and took my hand, kissing it.

“Nice to meet you too.” I tried to hide my fear, the internal screaming to run.

He grinned wider. “Nothing to be afraid of mi amor. You’re safe as long as you stay with us. Come now. We don’t want to be late.”

I hesitated. “Are you sure this is safe?”

“Don’t wander out of our sight, and you won’t have to worry about it, yeah?” Velvette replied impatiently.

Vox leaned over and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Right as usual dear.” He turned towards the entryway door, holding it open. Velvette passed through, then me, then Vox and finally Valentino.

A deep red limo was waiting at the curb for us. Vox got in first, then Velvette. I stepped back in hesitation but a firm hand touched the small of my back.

“After you dear. “ Valentino bent down and whispered. “Be between us, always. It’s not safe to wander these streets.”

At his touch, I practically jumped in and chose a seat far away from the others, taking a deep breath. I watched the dynamic in front of me unfold. Vox, between Velvette and Valentino, looked completely comfortable, chatting about what I assumed was their work. Across the limo, Valentino shot me a grin.

“So princessa, what brings you to hell?” He asked.

Vox and Velvette fell silent, their attention turned to me.

“My father ordered me here.” I responded, cheeks flushing.

From the pocket of his coat, Valentino pulled out a long cigarette and took and draw, exhaling clouds of red smoke.

“Ah. The infamous demon killer. The hypocrite who consorted with the former princess of hell and created you. Tell me, Princess. Why does he want you here after all this time? After all you are…how old?”

I felt my temper flare, but bit it back. His words wern’t exactly unture, but I didn’t like thinking about it. “I’m twenty five.” I said through gritted teeth.

He considered this for a moment, taking another drag. “Twenty five. That’s a long time to live away from half of yourself.”

“Val.” Vox interjected in a warning tone. One of his red eyes began to swirl. “Enough with the questions. We’re thrilled to have her here.”

“Of course we are.” He smiled. “Just making conversation, wondering why now, after all this time we’ve decided to…ah, explore ourselves.”

“I go where I am told.” I retorted.

His grin became wider. “Always?”

Thankfully at that moment the limo stopped and the door opened. This time, Valentino stepped out first. Vox gestured to me and I followed him out. The building in front of us was small, and brightly lit. I followed Valentino inside, Vox close behind me.

The inside looked like a normal restaurant. We were seated immediately in a back room, and with the exception of the fact that the waiters looked like different demons, it seemed no different than someplace I would have dined at back home.

Valentino ordered for the table and in moments I was presented with dinner. I studied it while the others dug in. Lucifer was probably right. What was on my plate looked like steak, definitely smelled like it too. Lucifer told me it was safe to eat. And truth be told- I was starving. I took a tiny bite, relieved that my dinner partners didn’t seem to pay much attention to me. It tasted fine, but I couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that washed over me. I took a few more bites, then set my fork down. I just couldn’t shake my nerves.

“That was great Val,” Vox leaned back in his chair. “What do you say we call it a night and head back?”

“Lame.” Velvette snorted. “The world needs to see the outfits I worked so hard to design. These nightly outings are not just for Val you know.”

Valentino took a long drag of his ciggarette and exhaled a trail of red smoke, looking at me and grinning. “Besides, we need to show the angel what a good time in hell looks like.” He stood up, and the others followed en-suite. Vox stepped aside, ensuring he was behind me as I followed them back to the limo.

“Have you ever drank alcohol before, babe?” Valentino asked, stretching his arms out on the seat behind me. He didn’t make physicl contact, but he was close enough to make me uneasy.

“Of course. I can go shot for shot with the most hardened angels.” I said defensively.

“Huh. Didn’t know angels drank.” Vox interjected thoughtfully as the limo pulled up to the next location. “Well good- then this should be a fun night.”

The number 666 flashed in purple above the building. I hesitated. It looked like a club, and that wasn’t a scene I was allowed to explore. Behind me, Vox gave me a gentle nudge and with no other choice, I trailed behind Valentino as he bypassed the impossibly long line. As we crossed the dance floor, demons skittered out of his way.

“It’s my club,” he said loudly as he led us to the back, half circle table. “Anything you need babe, its all yours.”

I slid in with Vox on one side and Velvette on the other. Instantly a demon appeared with four drinks, setting them on the table in front of us.

“Just stick within eyesight of us and you’ll be fine.” Vox assured me.

“Cheers.” Valentino raised his glass to me. “To your visit to hell.”

I took a sip. It was absolutely intoxicating and before I knew it, all four glasses were empty. Another round appeared instantly. Relief from my terror washed over me and I lost count after the second drink. Flashes of the dance floor, Velvette spinning me around. Shots handed to me by Vox and the four of us slamming them down.

The room spun but the feeling of freedom and liberation wrapped around me like a star dusted blanket. As time passed, I somehow I found myself across the dance floor, far out of sight of my keepers.

“To you, pretty lady.” A shark-like demon looked me up and down, and handed me a pink and fuzzy drink.

Too drunk to remember to not, I took the drink with a smile and downed it in one gulp. The shark demon laughed and took a step forward.

“Now, how will you show your appreciation pretty thing?” he reached out and touched my shoulder.

I flinched, and tried to take a step back but stumbled, trying to look back for any of the V’s. Fuck, this wasn’t good.

“There you are, princessa.” Valentino’s sharp voice floated behind me. “Looks like you can’t keep up with demons after all.”

The shark demon paled and I couldn’t see if he left or not. I felt Valentino’s arm slide under mine as he guided me back to his table. My body, no longer in control of itself, leaned into his red jacket, my head resting its full weight on his shoulder.

“Jesus Val, how much did you give her?”

Could have been Vox or Velvette who asked. I couldn’t tell. I felt claws cup my chin and force my head up. Valentino’s eyes met mine and he sighed, letting my head fall against him.

“Apparently, the princessa didn’t watch her drinks closely enough. Vox, take this please.”

I caught sight of Valentino standing up and Vox took his place, guiding my head to his shoulder. The room felt loud, and somewhere in the distance, I could have sworn I heard a gunshot.

“Hey hey, stay awake until Val gets back.” Vox shook my shoulder. “Ah shit. Lucifer’s going to be pissed.”

I wasn’t quite sure how I ended up with my head on Valentino’s lap, or how I was totally fine with him stroking my hair.

“Shits just got to work it's way out of her system,” I heard him explain. “Time is the only cure.”

I tried to lift my head but found it too heavy for more than a few inches. Valentino’s hand pushed it back down.

“It’s my fault.” I whispered. “I drank too much, too fast. I took a drink from an…I don’t know what, drinks aren’t spiked in heaven!”

I heard the three of them laugh.

“Sounds like you need a lesson in club safety love.” Velvette looked up from her phone.

“Maybe we don’t tell Uncle Lucy. Let’s keep this between us?” I mumbled and shifted my body ever so slightly.

Valentino rolled me back on my side, “If you say so, dear.”

I felt the limo stop and tried my best to sit up. After a few seconds of letting me struggle, Valentino lifted me up and out of the limo.

“I can walk.” I said protested blearily.

“Oh, you can?”

Valentino set me down and I immediately pitched forward. He caught me with ease and back in his arms I went. I closed my eyes .

The next thing I knew I was curled up on my side with sunlight streaming into my eyes. With a groan, I sat up. My head pounded.

“Rough first night dear?”

I opened my eyes to see Lucifer sitting on a chair next to my bed, punching away on his phone. I looked down at myself. Gone were my club clothes from last night, replaced with a pair of soft purple pajamas. I wondered briefly how I had managed to get myself changed so neatly.

“It wasn’t their fault.” I answered after a few seconds. “Ugh, my head.”

He seemed unperturbed. “I’m well aware. Free choice and all that- I invented it, remember? Can’t hold them accountable- you chose to accept a drink from a stranger and well, Valentino himself held the stranger accountable.”

“Fuck me. So…what are the consequences?” I mumbled, leaning forward and covering my head with my hands.

Lucifer paused. “Consequences? Isn’t being rendered totally unable to protect yourself your first night in hell enough? I’m not your father, dear.” He stood up. “What I can tell you is the cameras show half your bad decisions last night were due to drinking on an empty tummy. Can you explain why that is?”

I didn’t answer. He walked over and lifted my chin so our eyes met. “If you don’t trust the four of us, you won’t make it down here. You have to eat. And drink. Same as you did up there.”

I nodded and he sighed and sat down next to me. “I’m aware this is difficult- it’s new, and your father and I have torn you away to this place that is the opposite of everything you’ve ever known. But despite all of heaven's propaganda, there is good down here too. You just have to be more careful.”

“Yes, Lucifer.”

He broke out into a grin. “I think I prefer Uncle Lucy. Has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?”

I didn’t answer, embarrassment joining the pain I felt.

He patted my leg. “The good news is, you’re only suffering from a hangover. Unfortunately for you the cure is the same in heaven and hell. Hydration, food, anti inflammatories and rest.”

He stood up and his phone rang. His voice changed from sweet to sharp and several harsh words later, he hung up.

“I need to go. Chances are you’ll be back out on the club scene tonight. Let’s hope you’ve learned your lesson- stick close to the V’s. And listen to them. I made it clear that they can tell you what to do. Your responsibility is to follow through. Understood?”

I nodded and he touched the top of my head with a knowing smile. Instantly, my headache vanished.

“Hot shower. Water. Food. It won’t stay away if you don’t give your body those things. I’ll touch base with you later, love.”

He vanished a second later. I stared at the blank space and wondered if he was the only one down here who could do that. I pushed the thought from my head and willed myself out of bed. Lucifer may have made the headache vanish, but the body aches remained. I made my way into the bathroom.

The shower alone was the size of my room at home and it took me a good fifteen minutes to find a simple water pressure setting. I let myself sink into the steam and scrubbed clean every inch of my body. Finally, I stepped out and wrapped myself in an oversized towel. Standing in front of the mirror I studied my reflection as I towel dried my hair. Without Velvette’s make up, I looked like my usual self.

The door creaked open and I scrambled for another towel.

“Hello! No thank you!”

“What? Its not like we didn’t see everything last night,” Vox’s voice answered as he stepped in, closing the door behind him. “How do you think you ended up in those pajamas?”

“It doesn’t matter,” I hissed, covering myself quickly.

He laughed “modesty is overrated. Down here, you’ll learn that soon enough. Look, I know Lucifer told you but Val made breakfast before he had to rush off to work. It’s in your best interest to eat something before that headache he cured comes rushing back. Oh, and drink this.” He set a bottle of bright orange liquid down on the counter. “Courtesy of the brilliant minds of Vee and Val. It’ll help I promise.”

He turned to walk out, the paused. “I’m the last one to leave, which means you have the living room to yourself. Do as you wish as long as you take care of yourself. Don’t try to leave the building, and while you can visit my workspace or Vel’s, I’d suggest steering clear of Val. After last night, he’s in a pretty pissy mood.”

I must have looked mortified because Vox laughed. “Not at you dear. Others that didn’t do their jobs. Still, his temper is a nasty one. I’d recommend avoiding it at all costs.”

“Noted.” I said shakily.

“Oh, Princess? Just a reminder. Floors two and five are where you want to go for Vel and I.”

And with that he walked out. I took a sip of the drink he left and quickly swallowed the rest. To his credit, he was right- I felt much better almost instantly. I wrapped my hair up and from the vast closet I pulled a pair of soft blue pajamas and matching slippers. I made my way out to the shared kitchen and found a heart shaped sticky note on the table next to another bottle of the orange liquid.

Breakfast is in the fridge. Drink this after. If you have a hard time with the TV, text Vox. He’ll get you set up.

-VVV

I opened the fridge and another heart shaped pink sticky note greeted me.

“Eat every bite. If cold, microwave ten seconds.”

I uncovered the plate, hoping it was something normal. Something I could eat. Something that wouldn’t inadvertently turn my stomach. And to my delight, I found what looked to be two homemade strawberry waffles. I put them in the microwave and sat down at the table, taking a bite.

It was the yummiest thing I had ever tasted.

I finished the entire thing in record time and, taking the bottle of orange drink, I made myself comfortable on the couch. Although the headache was gone, my entire body felt achy- like I was getting over the flu. I flipped mindlessly through the channels as I finished the drink. Sleepiness washed over me and I felt myself start to drift.

The quiet ping of the elevator arriving startled me back awake.

“I see we’re alive.” Velvette saunted across the floor and hung over the back of the couch. “Feeling alright?”

I pulled myself up right. “Better- what time is it?”

“Time for you to go downstairs and get ready- we have another big night out. This one features the press, so we need time to make you perfect.” she answered. “Throw on a robe and meet me down in ten. Oh, and there's more of that orange drink in the fridge. Can’t hurt to have another bottle. Or at least water.”

She sauntered off and I heard the elevator ping again. In truth, I did feel better- almost like nothing had happened. The aches had almost completely vanished. Back in my room I pulled on a pink fuzzy robe and made my way down the stairs.

Velvette greeted me with a wave and upon my entrance, a horde of demons descended on me. The process didn’t take nearly as long as it had the day before, and by the time Velvette walked up to me the finishing touches were being put onto my makeup.

“You look great. Much better than you did this morning. Come on now, we have to meet Val and Vox out. You slept longer than we guessed- not that its a big deal. But come on, the car is waiting.”

I followed her out the door and listened to her chatter away while she typed. I checked my phone and saw I had a few missed texts. One from Lucifer, checking in. That was easy, I shot him a quick I’m fine. The second one from Vox- again, asking me how I was, followed by a text informing me he confirmed on the camera I wasn’t dead- and he would see me later. The last text was from Valentino.

Glad to hear you liked breakfast. Hope you enjoy dinner- let’s not have a repeat of last night, shall we? -Val

“Valentino is a little scary.” I said out loud.

Velvette looked up at me and laughed. “He’s only scary if you’re on his bad side- and if you’re worthless to him. Trust me babe, you have no reason to be afraid of him. Not after last night.”

“What was so different about last night?” I asked curiously.

She barked a laugh. “Vox is the one with a soft side. Valentino? He leaves drunk bitches in the ditch- he doesn’t lay them on his lap and he certainly doesn’t kill for them.”

“He’s just afraid, because of who Lucifer is.” I replied uneasily.

She shrugged. “Could be. Wouldn’t test it though. He can be nasty.”

The porn demon- nasty? That was probably the most mild of terms I could think of. More questions bubbled in my mind. How did they come to own souls? What other lies had heaven fed me- lies I considered to be true? I sat in silence, trying to bring up the courage to ask Velvette myself. I had just about convinced myself to do it when the limo stopped.

I followed Velvette outside and she marched in the door like she owned the place. Once again, we were whisked to the back of what looked like a normal restaurant. In minutes, dinner was in front of us. I looked down at the pasta dish in front of me and spun my fork in it. It looked normal- and it smelled fantastic. Cautiously, I took a bite as I listened to Vox complain about technology and a newscaster who ticked him off. Velvette responded by suggesting the use of one of her top models. Valentino was strangely silent, watching as I carefully took another bite.

“Look at that, already taking a step in the right direction.” He winked at me. “Not up for a repeat of last night, mi amor?”

I felt my cheeks flush red and his grin grew wider. “Good to see you enjoying your food, princessa.” He turned to Vox casually. “Just put something inside them. That’s how I get the bitches to behave.”

What did that mean? I wondered. After a few minutes, my plate was empty and Valentino stood up.

“Shall we? I have another busy night.” he announced. We followed ensuite back out to the limo. I waited behind Valentino, placed carefully between him and Velvette.

Valentino paused and took a step back. “After you, princessa.”

“Thanks.” I stepped inside and took my usual place against the far wall. Unlike last night, Valentino sat next to me, keeping a much shorter but still respectful distance. I felt a shiver go up my spine and a strange feeling in my belly as I listened to him chat with Velvette and Vox.

The ride to the club felt shorter than the night before. The shock of the club scene had dissipated and I followed close behind Valentino. Tonight it felt less like walking into a war zone. Not only did everyone make way for Valentino, everyone made space for me. Back in the same booth I made sure to sip my drink when it came, less I end up as much of a mess as I did the night before.

With sober eyes I watched the scene unfold. Valentino seemed to know everyone, and those he didn’t know Vox or Vel did. Frequently two left the table, leaving one behind. Visitors came up- demon men and women. Val either invited them for a drink or dismissed them with a wave of his hand. At one point he got up and disappeared into the back of the club, reemerging several hours later with a grin on his face.

“Shall we dance mi corazon?” He asked, extending his hand.

I hesitated and he leaned forward. “I won’t let anything happen to you, princessa. Come.”

I took his hand and he led me to the dance floor. Not to my suprise, he took the lead. I surrendered myself to him and the beat of the music as he spun and swung me around. I lost track of time under the flashing lights and it wasn’t until he slipped his arm under me and led me back to the table that I realized how long we had been away from the table.

He grabbed a nearby waiter and pointed to me. “Water for this one.” he turned to me. “I’ll be back princessa- stay here. And drink water.”

I watched him vanish across the dancefloor and sipped at the water the waiter brought me. After that was finished, I ordered a redbull and vodka- hoping it would give me the energy I needed to stay awake. As the minutes passed and my soberness disappeared, the demons on the dancefloor seemed to swim and I wondered how I had managed to stay afloat as long as I had the night before. A sudden rush of tiredness washed over me and I turned to Vox, who was lounging casually next to me

“When is the last call?”

“When Valentino says it is.” he responded carelessly.

Great. I swapped from vodka back to water and watched as Velvette and Vox took turns out the floor. Several times I trailed after Vox for a song or two, but he ensured I was safely back at the table before either going back out or swapping places with Velvette. After a few rounds of this, I switched back to vodka, which allowed me to relax for the first time since my arrival.

After some time passed Valentino returned, looking as pleased as ever.

“Last call for us darlings,” he purred, offering his hand to me. Vox did the same to Velvette and together the four of us walked out of the bar.

Though not nearly as bad as I had been, Velvette had the busy night and she spent the ride pressed into Vox. Valentino got himself comfortable and looked at me.

“You alright baby doll? You’re quiet.” he moved his body closer to mine and his arm fell against my shoulder as he took another drag from his cigarette, exhaling a stream of red smoke. “Tired?”

I nodded and he pulled me to his side. “Lay your head down baby- I think we passed the awkward phase last night hm?”

My head buzzed just enough that I could forget that he was a demon and that I should be terrified of him. My head fell against his shoulder and he ran a hand through my hair.

“That’s it sweetheart. Nothing to be afraid of.” he cooed as he exhaled another trail of red smoke. “Close your eyes.”

Against my instinct, I felt my eyelids grow heavy and the weight of my head fell onto his shoulder. He shifted my body and wrapped an arm around my waist. I tried to fight sleep as my head fell to his chest, against the steady beating of his heart. He was relaxed, so why wasn’t I?

I woke up as we pulled up to the VVV tower. Velvette, having solidly fallen asleep on Vox was carried up to the elevator first. Valentino offered his hand as I stepped out of the limo. He kept a steady arm around me as we walked towards the elevator.

“You have nothing to fear, mi amor.” he purred. “We are not the monsters you think that we are.”

The last thing I remembered was being tucked into my bed and a soft hand pushing the hair out of my eyes.

#valentino x reader #the vees #vox x reader #valentino x you #valentino x wife

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katieodoodle · 1 year

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All aboard!! Now leaving for the grand circle tour of Scarland!

After seeing the train in the most recent episode I was inspired to make this poster modeled after this old Disneyland poster.

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thepastisalreadywritten · 23 days

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ON THIS DAY IN SCIENCE: September 5

𝗡𝗔𝗦𝗔’𝗦 𝗩𝗢𝗬𝗔𝗚𝗘𝗥 𝟭 𝗟𝗔𝗨𝗡𝗖𝗛𝗘𝗗 𝗜𝗡𝗧𝗢 𝗦𝗣𝗔𝗖𝗘 🚀

On this day in 1977, NASA launched Voyager 1 on a grand tour of the solar system!

Along its journey, it made groundbreaking discoveries about the gas giants and has since ventured beyond the solar system, continuing to explore the mysterious interstellar space.

During its travels, Voyager 1 made some awesome discoveries.

When it flew by the giant planet Jupiter in 1979, it found a thin ring circling the planet and spotted two new tiny moons named Thebe and Metis.

Then, in 1980, Voyager 1 visited the ringed planet Saturn and uncovered even more secrets!

It found a new ringlet called the G-ring and three little "shepherd" moons — Prometheus, Pandora and Atlas — that help keep Saturn's rings in place.

After finishing its planetary mission, the intrepid Voyager 1 just kept going and going.

In 1998, it became the farthest human-made object from Earth.

Today, it is now located more than 23 billion kilometers from Earth, outside the solar system.

𝗪𝗛𝗬 𝗗𝗢𝗘𝗦 𝗧𝗛𝗜𝗦 𝗠𝗔𝗧𝗧𝗘𝗥?

Voyager 1 a pioneering spacecraft that provided groundbreaking data on Jupiter and Saturn, became the first to enter interstellar space in 2012, and remains the most distant human-made object.

It also carries a golden record as a message to extraterrestrial life.

📝: Ralph Abainza

#NASA #Voyager 1 #Jupiter #Thebe #Metis #Saturn #G-ring #shepherd moons #Prometheus #Pandora #Atlas #planetary mission #astronomy #space #spacecraft #interstellar space #science #on this day #solar system

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manicpixiefelix · 7 months

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head, heart, hand. {Felix Catton/Reader/Oliver Quick}

Part 17.

Summary: Learning little things, and big things, on these summer days. About each other, and how the world sees you all, in the garden, in the family room, in hindsight, in the study late at night.

{ masterpost }

Need to Know: They/Them. Explicitly NB Reader. FWB!Reader/Felix. Reader is from a well off family but has pretty much been adopted by the Cattons.

Warnings: reader, felix, venetia, and oliver getting high in the garden together, some degrading language (kind of a given any time venetia and reader are in the same room at this point), heavy discussion about the reader's parental trauma/neglect

A/N: 5812 words. i think i cast venetia in a bad light sometimes which i feel bad about because i love her to pieces, and she and the reader love each other very much its just that she's gotten used to being arguably too verbally prickly with them in order to rile her brother up mostly, and she forgets (and maybe i do too) what that looks like from the outside. anyways, just for absolutely no reason whatsoever, have you ever looked up what different flowers mean in flower language? much to think about.

TAGLIST IN COMMENTS!! // TAGLIST ALWAYS OPEN ! (just message or comment to be added)

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Venetia rolls her joints with little hearts at the end where the filter would go if it were simply a cigarette. It's a trick she learned during what she calls her 'gap year', what Elspeth calls her 'grand wine tour of Europe', and what Felix and Farleigh have recently started cruelly referring to as 'the year Venetia inspired a TV show'. While you do think it's mean, you also quietly agree that Billie Piper bares a striking resemblance to the young Catton woman in the ads you'd seen for Secret Diary of a Call Girl. Cruel implications is all you would say on the matter, not that either of the boys had been game enough to say it to her face.

But the thought floats through your mind in this moment, taking just a moment to admire the way she's expertly curled the paper before you bring it to your lips. She watches you with that smile that tends to intimidate others, sharp and mean and hungry, sharp gaze on your lips as you inhale, lips remaining sealed as you offer the next hit to Felix on your right. Venetia's focus follows the joint, straying from you to admire the way her brother takes a hit before he too passes it on to Oliver.

Felix muses to no-one in particular about how long it's been since he'd been out here to the Fairy Ring Garden, but only gets a response from Oliver, and a strained one at that as your guest holds smoke in his lungs as long as he's able, muttering that it's beautiful. Sitting on the grass in the morning sun, you squint at the iPod in your hands, trying to choose some music.

Venetia suggests Amy Winehouse. Felix calls his sister tragic under his breath, to which she flips him off. Still, it's the best suggestion you've got so far, so moments later, the singer's rich vocals warble out of the little, portable speaker you'd plugged into the headphone port.

"Good dog," Venetia says with a particularly mean sneer in her brother's direction as she takes the iPod out of your hands to place it on the grass, replacing it with the joint you'd all been passing around once more. Out of instinct, you place your free hand on Felix's chest, telling him that whatever reaction he was going to have really wasn't worth it. Venetia rolls her eyes, "boo, you whore," she snarks, laying back on the grass.

"I'm taking the rest of this as compensation for emotional damages," you hold the joint between two fingers, telling Felix to just roll another from the kit still sitting in the middle of the impromptu circle the four of you had made. Much to both yours and Felix's surprise, Oliver moves too quickly to let him, rolling with the air of someone who'd seen it done often without having done it himself.

Both you and Felix watch him for quite a while as he stumbles through the task like a baby deer taking it's first steps. Things are getting fuzzy and warm around the edges already, and you're caught up in watching the way Oliver's hands work.

"Why 'd you put up with her?" Oliver asks bluntly, frowning at his work. Venetia's indignant 'hey' goes otherwise ignored by the three of you and it takes a long moment for Felix to respond.

"She's my sister?" But in his confusion it sounds more like a question, talking about Venetia like she's not even there. But Oliver stops, and finally looks at him; he offers a rather sad looking, clearly unfinished joint, not as an offering but as a silent request for help. Felix takes it and tries not to look too endeared by Oliver's failed attempt as he fixes it.

"Not you, Felix," Oliver, after a moment, looks away from Felix, right to you, eyes wide and earnest as he watches you take a long draft of your own joint, now burned well down. His gaze makes his intentions clear, but still he offers, "she's mean to you too." Too, like he'd pointed out about Farleigh all those months ago.

"They like it," Venetia scoffs at the sky dismissively, but Oliver refuses to acknowledge her, even if Felix takes a moment to scowl at his sister and her constant, casual degradation of you. But a slow, amused smile spreads across your lips in the moments that follow, you can't help it.

"I love that you worry about me, Ollie," you sigh almost dreamily. Clearly not expecting that, you have the pleasure of watching Oliver blush with surprise, "you're so fucking pretty, Ollie," you add, though you're pretty sure you couldn't have stopped yourself from saying that out loud if you tried. He blushes harder, while Felix and Venetia both try and stifle their giggles; you take another hit, tilting your head just a little as you look at him, analysing him. Finally, when you ask his favourite flower out of seemingly nowhere, Oliver seems like he can't function under your gaze like this, and chooses to lay back in the grass, mirroring Venetia.

"Darling, you're such a lightweight," Felix snorts, speaking from the corner of his mouth as he holds the rerolled joint between his lips as if intending to light it. Before he can flick the lighter on, however, you take his chin gently in hand, guiding him to you, pressing the still-glowing end of your own joint to his unlit one for several long seconds, until his caught successfully.

When you and Felix join your companions in laying back on the grass, you do so together. His arm is around you, coaxing you to lay with your head on his chest, beside him under this perfectly blue sky.

"Why would you want to know something like that?" Oliver's voice reminds you he's there only moments later.

"Because their robot brain needs to know everything about everyone at all times," at least Venetia sounds fond when she chimes in, even if her words aren't exactly the most complimentary.

"You're lucky you're pretty, Vee," Felix cuts in with a casually cruel tone; you can feel the way he twitches with irritation, "because you have so few other redeeming features."

"I am pretty," Venetia agrees airily, pointedly ignoring his insult, "you're such a darling brother, Felix," she adds with painfully sarcastic faux-sweetness. Felix's only response was to sigh with incredibly loud disappointment, while you tried to stifle your giggling, caught up in the sensation of him tracing abstract patterns up and down your arms, and the idea that you could count on the ever-relaxed Felix Catton to always come to your defence. Had this been the case for years? Over a decade? Yes. Would it always make you a little bit giddy to think about? Almost definitely.

"And it's not like I'm wrong," Venetia finally broached the silence once more, "as if they don't already know our favourite flowers," she points out, before making a rather insistent noise. You bark at her command, it seems - those cheerful little yellow ones on the inner ring of flowers - dismissive, but the sound of her scoff has you correcting yourself, suddenly feeling a sting of shame and not quite knowing why.

"The chrysanthemums." The other three echo the name of the flower, one right after the other, all taking turns to turn it over in their minds and mouths as you almost burn your fingers finishing off your joint. As if trying to prove yourself, you add, interrupting them all, "Fi's are forget-me-nots."

Felix seems surprised to agree, like even he'd forgotten that detail about himself, or perhaps forgotten that he'd shared it with you, while Venetia's laughter has turned fond and knowing; it's a little condescending too, like she'd expected as much from you, but you try not to dwell on it. It's Oliver's voice that you focus on, endeared as he quietly murmurs the name of the flower to himself, like he can't quite believe something as soft as Felix having a favourite flower.

"Now I'm curious, Ollie," Felix finally speaks up, and you hear the grass shift beneath his head. He must be turning to look at the man in question, "do you have a favourite flower?" He pauses for a moment, "or is this one of our weird things, like wearing cuff-links to dinner every night?" He tries to play it off, but there's those notes of self consciousness that you're surprised he often gets when talking about tradition around Saltburn.

The grass near Oliver rustles, but your comfort overrides your intrigue to watch him.

"I think it's fox... Something?" Oliver says after a moment, "my favourite flower," he clarifies, "I haven't put much thought into it," he admits. You hum thoughtfully before asking if it could be foxglove. He confirms as much before going quiet.

There's a lull that follows in which Felix asks after Farleigh's whereabouts. Farleigh should be here, your hazy mind immediately chirps, you love Farleigh! Venetia sighs, sounding incredibly put-upon to be explaining that Farleigh was in the computer room, obsessing over his ex-boyfriend's MySpace updates that he'd missed lately. The ones about the tour.

"The guy from that Broadway show?" Felix asks with vague interest.

"No, his ex-girlfriend is touring with that Broadway musical, that he knows about, that he at least pretends he doesn't care about," Venetia corrected, "the ex-boyfriend is that one from that band, the one who wrote that song about him that got nominated for that award?"

"Grammy," you supplied automatically.

"Right," Venetia barely acknowledged you, "anyways, he's on that big, American tour with all those tragic, emo bands that are a big deal, which is apparently news to our dear cousin."

"Is that the one we were all talking about getting tickets to a few months ago?" Felix asks after a moment of silence, patting you on the arm as if his words weren't enough to get your attention. You hum in confirmation.

"I think so; The Warped Tour, we were going to make a vacation of it in LA this summer," you sighed rather forlornly at how the idea never got off the ground, "it was Anabel's idea -"

"- God, she's always been such a groupie for those kinds of boy-band-types -" Felix mutters derisively under his breath as if he hadn't spent the better part of two semesters inviting her to his dorm to listen to him play guitar knowing full well she'd practically be on her knees at the very suggestion. So of course you ignored that aside to finish your explanation.

"- except she turned around and said she hated the line up, when really she didn't want to admit her passport expired and she couldn't be bothered with the paperwork for a new one -"

"Actually," Oliver chimes in, though you're not sure if he was adding to the conversation, or if he'd even been listening, "when I was a boy I got to go to this botanical garden that had all these fancy flowers usually from the rest of the world." Oh. Flowers again? Sure. "There were these ones that got flown in from Australia, and I couldn't help thinking that they weren't worth it to fly all the way over here from Australia. Too long and curly and pointy; pretty, but not the kind that..." something about the way he speaks about the experience, about the flowers, it catches in your mind; Australian, long, curly, pointy, pretty, you tried to commit to memory, "that's worth spending your time on." He clears his throat and his tone seems almost forcibly lighter, "foxgloves are prettier, wouldn't you think? Yeah..."

Silence hangs between you all for several long, pensive moments.

"What colour were they?" You ask softly.

"Foxgloves?" Oliver knows you don't mean the foxgloves. He asks anyways. Everything always for the sake of the act, the pantomime of propriety.

"No."

"Red."

There is no more that needs to be said in the moment, but later you will be grateful when the details stick through the haze of your memories. Through the quiet, Venetia mentions how she misses the purple pincushions, how sweet and strange they were, and how cruel you have been to order the gardeners to prune the flowers before they can ever bloom.

The mere mention of those purple fucking pincushion flowers sours your mood; your one regret amongst your garden, a conceit to Felix that even he wishes he could take back knowing now how much you'd end up hating them. It's been a year since a single purple pincushion has bloomed in your garden, and you've been down here at least once a day all Summer, meticulous, pruning the bulbs yourself with much malice aforethought. Part of you is so filled with fury in this moment that you consider going over and uprooting the plants by hand right now, but Felix's arm around you, Felix's chest, solid and warm beneath your head, Felix's steady heartbeat in your ear, he grounds you.

For now you must simply remain content knowing that none of Eddie's precious, purple pincushions will ever bloom upon the grounds of the Saltburn Estate again.

"Venetia," expression pinched, you address her with far more coldness than you think you've ever directed towards her before, "shut up."

You don't remember when exactly during the day you asked Duncan to fetch you all the botany-related books in the house that made mention of plants native to the Asia-Pacific region. Knowing yourself, and knowing Duncan, however, you're not surprised by the small, neat stack you find the following evening on your desk in the lilac study.

While you fully intended on continuing your trend of wearing something provocative and continuing the pantomime of propriety with Oliver as the two of you had been doing each night for almost a week, Sir James raises the suggestion of a family movie night instead. Felix whines when Venetia and Farleigh champion the suggestion of a scary movie, and pouts when they bully Oliver into agreeing with them.

"Don't ask them," Farleigh groans when you're called upon for your opinion, "they're just going to say whatever Felix said but in a different voice," he rolled his eyes. You and Felix both choosing to flick little pieces of cantaloupe at him from your desserts does nothing but strengthen his argument.

Nobody thinks to ask Poor Dear Pamela her opinion, sitting at the end of the table, looking less than thrilled by the suggestion of The Ring, so everyone else decides that you and Felix are out numbered. On the way back to your rooms to change out of your dinner clothes, Oliver tries to apologise, and Felix tries to pretend that it's fine and he's just putting it on for Venetia and Farleigh and that he absolutely does not have the temperament of a rabbit when it came to anything scary. He is, of course, lying. But Oliver doesn't realise that just yet.

Venetia, always invigorated by a social triumph such as this, and never one to let a well-earned moment of joy pass her by, tucks her arm in Oliver's as the family meets back up in the living room. The moment is not missed by either you or Felix, who both glower at her bold display of affection as she ignores you and pulls Oliver onto the sofa. The large, plush armchair next to the sofa, with it's wide, low arms almost fits both you and Felix, though it's more of a token gesture than anything. No-one is surprised when he pulls you into his lap less than ten minutes after the film begins, arms around you and watching with his chin on your shoulder, ready to hide his face against your shoulder at a moment's notice.

When the film ends and the lights come back on, Venetia finally notices how you and her brother are sitting, and opens her mouth with malicious intent in her eyes.

"Watch it," you warned her before she could say any choice, disparaging remarks, "remember who's kept you off of What Not To Wear the past six years," you remind her; Felix, giving you a little squeeze, levels a smug smile at his older sister over your shoulder. Venetia closes her mouth, expression immediately turning.

"I can't believe they're still making that show," she spits, stalking from the room. Farleigh, finally getting up and stretching, follows her out at a far more relaxed pace.

"I can't believe they're still fighting Y/N to put you on it."

With those two having left, Elspeth and Pamela both give you curious looks, Elspeth asking if it was true. You confirmed as much with a blithe shrug, finally getting to your feet.

"Years ago one of the hosts was trying to track Ven down after seeing her on a red carpet and word got back to dad - or, well, his assistant at the time - and he remembered that I'm pretty close with the Cattons," you gave a humourless smile, offering Felix your hand to help him up from the sofa, which he gladly took, "however Ven was deeply offended when I asked her if she wanted to be on the show," Felix let himself chuckle at that, while Oliver was taking longer to stand, strange look on his face as he listened to you with surprisingly rapt attention.

"And they've been, what, continuing to ask after her even though she's said no?" Elspeth frowned, but you sighed, shaking your head.

"No, apparently Ven sent in a particularly rude letter despite me informing them of her refusal, and now dad's assistants seem to think I'm her agent and I get a call every time the show is threatening to add her photo to a montage of worst-dressed celebrities."

"Didn't she freak out when you refused to get an episode pulled when they actually did it?" Felix snorts, to which you rolled your eyes.

"That's why dad's assistants keep calling me, because of how she reacted to that episode."

You do feel a little bit bad for Venetia in this moment, when you see the resigned disappointment in both her parents' eyes at the story. The rest of you do finally filter out at this point, all heading back to your separate rooms. The walk is quiet for the most part, except for when Oliver, who'd been looking as though he was ruminating very hard on something, looks to you.

"Y/N, what does your dad do for work?"

You know and hate that Oliver sees the moment in which his question makes you uncomfortable, no matter how much you try to not let it, nor how desperately you try to hide it. Shrugging as you desperately shoot for casual, you sigh.

"I'm pretty sure your guess is as good as his," you say blithely, so casually evasive that Oliver doesn't really think to call you out on it before you get to your room. But after you and Felix wish him good night and head into your room, you close the door and slump against it with a heavy sigh. Felix lets you have this moment of respite to yourself, quietly moving about the room, getting ready for bed.

"Do you think they'll even show up?" Finally Felix breaks the silence, and you just make a vague noise, "to the dinners they told mum they'd be at," he clarified after a beat.

"Probably," you muttered, dejected at the prospect as your mind wanders to the couple who reluctantly created you.

"They asked about you," you admit to Felix quietly. From what you can hear, he stops, "mum, specifically," the memory of the phone call with your grandmother burned bright in your mind; it wasn't particularly recent, had happened at the start of your last semester, but you'd kept it to yourself for so long. You'd tried to disconnect yourself from it, tried to take solace in your grandmother's fury on your behalf, but you feel your face heat up with your own anguish, "asked how you were and if you were still living in 'that beautiful house with the Reubens and all those royal portraits'," voice trembling with both heartache and resentment, you slide down the door, tears welling even as you had your eyes squeezed tightly shut.

"Nan sounded so angry when she told me," you whispered, knees drawn up to your chest, "I've never heard her like that; she made it sound like she yelled at mum for- for- for ages -" you feel when Felix settles down beside you, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close. This is when you finally break, when you finally let yourself cry, whimpering, "but I bet mum just hung up on her the minute she felt like the fucking victim."

Felix isn't the one who needs to be apologising right now, but part of you knows you'll never get one from the people you crave it the most from. Still, he apologises with his lips against your temple. You know your best friend well enough to know his heart is breaking for you, and fuck you wish you had been strong enough to push back this breakdown, but you couldn't -

"She asked for you by name, Fi, full name," you sobbed curling up in his arms, burying yourself against him in your misery, "they haven't spoken to me or about me in eleven years; they haven't even said my name- they've acted like I don't exist to everyone - everyone - even to my own grandmother for eleven years!"

There's no easy sleep that can be found after a revelation like this, but Felix, even after he manages to drift off, is unwilling to let you go, unwilling to let you feel even the slightest bit alone for the rest of the night. It continues through the next day, even as you assure him you're fine, that you're glad for his comfort but that you've overcome the despair that had hit you so tremendously last night. It's not even much of a lie.

You spend the day with the family who'd taken you in without hesitation, and feel a swell of pride within you as you hear Oliver comment enthusiastically on the Palissy plates Sir James had always loved dearly. You yourself vaguely recall the plates getting a page to themselves in the very book you'd gifted Oliver about Saltburn, so you were glad to see him putting it to good use.

A little white lie about how deep Oliver's love for Palissy genuinely was really wouldn't hurt anyone. Honestly, it was worth it for just how brightly Sir James' eyes shined at one of Felix or Venetia's friends finally taking an interest in his antiquities like that.

But all day, Felix was never too far away. Not that he was incredibly obvious about it, at least not from anyone else's perspective, but you could tell. Quietly, you were grateful, even if you were still trying to convince the both of you that you were okay. Something about being able to just lean back and know he'll be there in times like this, times where you need him to be there but don't know how to say it out loud, is a comfort you never want to take for granted.

You want to thank him but it gets caught in your throat. But standing on his balcony as the sun sets, sharing a cigarette, you take his free hand for this one, quiet moment. Your voice is full of affection, full of thanks, full of love, too much for you to even look at him, focus kept on your hands, your fingers laced with his.

"My Felix."

"Always, love," he kisses your forehead.

That night, the only time you are without him is when you end up in the lilac study, wondering if Oliver will even show up after last night broke the tradition. Either way you'd use the time to continue to go through your botany books on the hunt for red, curly, pointy, Australian flowers. You keep seeing bottle brush but something in your heart said it wasn't right. However long you'd actually spend perusing the books tonight would depend on if you had company.

But eventually Oliver does choose to darken the doorway with that hungry-eyed stare you've never seen in the light of day, and you take your time with noticing him. Tonight you're lounging on the cream sofa in one of Felix's shirts, not even bothering to do the buttons up; you've pulled it mostly close for a pass at modesty, considering the only other thing you're wearing is underwear.

"'re you seducing me?" He sounds amused; you're surprised by how quickly he cuts to the chase, but you try not to let it show.

"Is it working yet?" You turn another page of your book before you finally look up, playing almost at boredom. Oliver, barely visible for the lamp light, the gallery beyond him nothing but shadows, huffs a laugh at that, and for reasons you can't quite understand, he drops his gaze. He breaks the moment, the rules of the game. Oliver doesn't look away, he never has before.

"You trying to get me in trouble?"

"Depends on what you consider to be trouble," your smile grows wider as you carefully set your book to the side, fixing your intrigued gaze upon Oliver properly, "perhaps I'm saving you from trouble." In a sense, the more nights you can get him to spend here with you, the less he's falling prey to Venetia's planting herself beneath his window you're sure she's doing, just as she had with Eddie a year ago. At least this time you've learned.

"I think you may very well be the trouble," Oliver looks up, just in time to see your wicked, delighted grin.

"Then I am definitely trying to get you in trouble," you don't even hesitate before firing off the inuendo, smiling wide and proud at your own quick wit. The sight of Oliver's very genuine smile and laugh catches you off guard too; it'd been so long since you'd seen it, you forgot how taken you were with him when he lit up like that. Then, as the laughter died down, Oliver walks in, he sits with you, lets you lean against him.

"You've been saying a lot of..." he hesitates, turning to you. Oliver wears a strange, lopsided smile, but from the corner of your eyes you see something reserved in his gaze as he takes in the sight of you in this moment, "generous things about me." He's too close to miss the way your breath catches. Venetia and Farleigh are dirty fucking snitches, "'s alright-" he tries, but there's clearly some kind of reservation in his voice as he staves off your stammered apology, "knew what I was getting into, didn't I?"

With Oliver's arm around you, you can't help but wonder aloud -

"Did you?"

"I thought I did," he admitted softly, and you tipped your head onto his shoulder, then you feel him shift, feel his lips on your forehead and voice soft, "I think I thought I'd be alright anywhere if I was with Felix." For reasons you try very hard not to think about in this moment, Oliver's words sting.

"Oh," it almost gets caught in your throat; your traitorous heart sinks in your chest for just a moment. Except Oliver gives you a squeeze, holds you tight as he seems to realise his mistake.

"Of course you're a given," it almost salvages the moment, and of course you feel as though you have to act like it does, but there's something tight and unfamiliar balling up in your chest. "Felix loves you," Oliver sounds almost wistful, words coming out more like a faint breath, but perhaps it's this strange new feeling in your chest that makes him harder to read in this moment.

"He loves you too, Ollie," you tell him, forcing yourself to inject some levity into the moment. This time it's you who moves, who turns your face to Oliver, forehead against his as you muster up the warmest smile you can manage, pressing against him, making a show of overwhelming affection, "we both do," of course, your tone says, obviously.

And Oliver actually giggles at that, so it must work. In the next moment he's pulled you into his lap. It's so easy for you to readjust, to fit in his arms, in his space, against him, like it's where you were always meant to be.

"Is that you talkin' or Felix talkin'?" Oliver asks finally when you've got your arms settled around his neck, "I don't mind, I'd just like to know."

"What 'd you mean?" You ask, curious about the wording and it's implications. Oliver visibly hesitates, though he seems more embarrassed for whatever was about to come out of his mouth than anything else.

"Speakin' with Venetia made me realise how little I actually know about you," Oliver says carefully. Almost immediately your expression sours, and a long, exasperated sigh is pulled from you, "she's a deeply confusing woman, isn't she?" He adds almost like an afterthought, and you barked a quiet laugh.

"That is a very kind way of putting it," you offered diplomatically after a beat, before letting go of Oliver and leaning yourself back against the arm of the sofa, considering your next words carefully. His hands come to rest on your stomach, but you're surprised when he does up two of the buttons of Felix's shirt, providing you with a little more modesty. Then, his hands come to rest on your stomach and thighs, warm and unmoving.

"You're a deeply confusing individual yourself," Oliver pushes softly, "when I think about you too much, I realise there's not much to think about, least nothin' you've told me," and you hum noncommittally, looking up at the ceiling. The next words that escape you are from a script you'd thought was long buried.

"Yeah but that's kind of the point; I'm not really meant to matter, or be looked at, or thought about -" the words seem to shock even you, eyes going wide as you look to Oliver. The intensity of his stare has your heart hammering against your ribs as you try to back pedal, "sorry- that's not- I mean- sorry, that's really not, anymore that is -" you didn't even believe that anymore, right? Your place in the world as impressed upon you by your own parents for the first ten years of your life. Surely having spent more time by now with Felix and the Cattons than you ever had with them was enough to rewrite a good deal of the cruel way in which you'd been hardwired.

Oliver reaches out, caressing your cheek with that confident smile he only ever seemed to wear when the sun couldn't see him. He tells you that you matter, with absolute sincerity. Then, expression lightening to something fond, even teasing, he warns you not to let Felix catch you talking like that, that his love for you was the kind that would have him throwing a parade just to prove that self-doubt wrong. It was a nice mental image, if only for a moment. You, Oliver, Felix, not necessarily a parade for you per say, but a mess of colour and joy and music in the city, together and happy and -

"I don't know if you'd want that," Oliver's grin is fading, and finally you sit back up, let yourself be wrapped up in him as he continues to trail his fingers across the edge of your face, down your throat, across your collar, "but then again Venetia thinks you don't even know how."

"How what?" Voice barely more than a whisper, you know he can feel how quick your heart's beating, his hand flat and warm on your sternum.

"How to want for yourself, 'least not anything outside of Felix," he keeps his gaze trained on his hand, heel of his palm pressing firmer just over your heart, "which is why I asked; you said you loved me, is that you or Felix talking when you say that?" And finally he looks at you. That tight, sharp feeling in your chest spikes when he meets your gaze. He looks so earnest, so open, so ready for either answer.

But you stand, leaving both yourself, and Oliver's lap cold, but hoping your smile is warm enough compensation. Except you can hear in his voice that he believes Venetia; she'd confirmed what he'd suspected, it's what he left unsaid the night you'd slept with each other. The only thing you wanted was so easily met; to be wanted, and seemingly content with nothing more outside of Felix. A contented sycophant, easy to please and happy to be used; you knew the world was happy with this being your place in it.

And the more you think about it, the more you think Oliver is too.

"Of course it's Felix," you tell him what you're almost certain he wants to hear. No need to scare him off with the expectations of your own feelings on his shoulders. Oliver watches you for a long moment, simply observing as you smile wider, and hope that it comes across as adoring, "which means of course I do love you too, that's a given, Ollie." The sharp discomfort is scraping at your ribs, more painful with each word, hollowing out your chest moment by moment, so you bid him good night, unable to bare the conversation for much longer.

"Just one favour, by the way, if you could," you add by the door. He makes a noise of intrigue, but you can't even bring yourself to look at him. It'll be another just person looking at a placeholder while they're waiting for Felix to be ready to love them back. Usually you don't mind. Usually it's enough and you can still enjoy their company and have your fun. But they aren't Oliver Quick, "just... please refrain from properly fooling around with Venetia? I know I sound like a hypocrite but," you take a deep breath, smiling wide enough that you don't even have to see Oliver, "it kind of goes back well beyond just you."

The next morning, stopping into the study before you head down to breakfast, you intend to collect the book you'd finally found those red flowers in. Top of your pile, you'd left it open on the very page. But you find that someone has turned the page. Scabious, in full bloom, mocking you, surely.

The botany book lay like a bitter seductress on your desk, left open, pages spread and staring up at you; purple fucking pincushions.

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