#more than an obsession if we think about it

[nsharks]

bleeding blue | apocalypse au

part twenty-eight —other parts

pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x fem!reader words: 4.4k tags: death. blood. cannibalism mention. zombies of course. AFAB reader. single dad ghost. there will be sex!!! SEX. enemies to lovers. summary: After losing your companions, you run into a skull-masked man and his daughter. They are your last hope for survival.

France feels just as haunted by ghosts, the kind that cling to silence.

The next morning, you follow the road south near the Belgium border under a punishing sun and suffocating humidity. Sweat pools under your clothes as you leave the coastline behind, passing overgrown rose bushes and grand estates crumbling to rotted beams. Without the raft or truck, supplies rest on everyone's backs, lighter now with all the food you’ve already gone through—a stark reminder that you’ll need more soon.

You were the last to wake, stirred from a deep sleep by the sounds of bags being packed. It shouldn’t be surprising—you’d slept well after two orgasms. It’s a miracle the night’s events didn’t spill into your dreams, but now, in the daylight, keeping them at bay is harder. Thankfully, Kyle and the two kids create a buffer as you all follow Price’s lead. Their presence helps keep your eyes from drifting to him. You force your gaze on the passing signs, making a mental game out of trying to pick up on some French. It's distracting enough. So far you've gathered that sortie means exit and allez means something like go. 

The first break comes when your shoulders burn from the weight of the backpack, the straps biting into your skin. You slip it off with a groan, sinking to the ground, and nurse the canteen of water. Just enough to wet your throat and keep the dizziness at bay—rationing is a habit.

Price's plan echoes in your head: Méteren by nightfall. That’s ten hours of walking, minimum. Your toes throb at the thought, each step promising fresh blisters, but you force yourself to focus. The faster you reach Switzerland, the safer you’ll all be. If the place they heard of is actually waiting there.

"Hey. Do you want this?"

Blue lowers beside you, offering a near-empty jar of peanut butter she was snacking on.

"Not much left but it's really good," she shrugs. 

"I'll finish it off, thanks."

The salty taste is not exactly refreshing, but you choke it down anyway, the boost of protein more of a necessity than a pleasure. Blue pulls at the grass beside you, her gaze drifting to Ari, who’s sharing food with Kyle. You try not to look, but your eyes flick to Ghost anyway.

The mask is still on, as always. Why is he obsessed with it, even after you just saw him naked? Despite its presence, you can still see the furrow between his brows as he pores over the map with Price. Sweat rings the collar of his black tee, and his biceps flex as he gestures down the road. You’re definitely checking him out when he catches your eye mid-conversation, adjusting his mask, and without missing a beat, you turn your attention back to Blue.

She is staring at you, her brow furrowed.

You instinctively touch your neck, your thoughts racing to the bruise hidden beneath your hair. 

“Do you think he likes him?” she asks abruptly.

You blink. “What?”

“Ghost,” she whispers, leaning closer. “Do you think he likes Ari?”

Relief floods you. “Oh. I mean, sure. He's a good kid.”

“He’s not a kid,” she corrects with a huff. “He’s thirteen.”

“That’s still a kid, Blue.”

She rolls her eyes but hesitates before adding quietly, “He kissed me.”

Your jaw nearly drops. “What?”

“Shh! Keep your voice down. And don’t tell Ghost.” She pinches your arm, her cheeks reddening.

“I won’t,” you assure her. “But… when? How?”

“The other night, when we kept watch. Just on my cheek, but still.” She pulls her knees to her chest. “He's cute. I think I like him, but… what if he doesn’t actually like me? What if he just sees me as a kid?”

Her uncertainty tugs at something deep in you. “Have you talked to him about it?”

She shakes her head, looking horrified. “No way. What if he doesn't feel the same? It could get weird.”

“Then kill him,” you deadpan. At her glare, your lips twitch. “Fine, I’ll kill him.”

She snorts despite herself. “Be serious.”

“Okay, how about this—just ask him, ‘Why did you kiss my cheek?’ Keep it simple.”

Blue considers this, her expression softening. “I could do that. But it has to be when Ghost isn’t around. Which is almost never.”

You're telling me. You pick at your nails, avoiding her trusting gaze as your chest tightens. 

The sound of Price's boots back on the gravel ends the break.

Even after the brief rest, your limbs drag with exhaustion for the next few hours, but the extra calories push you forward. You make it to Méteren before nightfall. As the guys pitch tents, you rip off your socks to survey the damage. Open blisters stare back at you. With only so much gauze in your kit, you've been hesitant, but you cut a conservative strand and wrap up your heels. 

Behind a bush, you change from your sweaty clothes and hope there is freshwater somewhere to wash them in the morning. You dab a rag with a bit of water from the canteen and scrub the biggest offenders; armpits, between your legs, the back of your neck. Changing into a clean shirt, the sound of them unpacking the sleeping bags beckons your heavy shoulders and sore legs. You head back to the tents, ready for sleep, when you overhear Ghost volunteer for first watch.

"Twix will help me."

You hope the surprise isn't visible your face as you nearly drop your backpack, swinging your gaze at him.

"I will?"

"It's been a few days since you've taken watch."

Your lips roll together then flatten, shoving down the blush that crawls your neck at the thought of being alone with him. Kyle looks like he is ready to take your place, but you nod in resignation, clear your throat, and finish tugging on the zipper over your clothes. "Yeah, of course. I'll help."

The others disappear into the tents, and you turn to sit on a fallen log, bow in hand. But before you can settle, you feel his presence—a shift in the air just behind you, then the solid pressure of his hand curling around your forearm. Without a word, he guides you forward, pulling you with an ease that leaves no room for hesitation. Your body moves instinctively as he leads you out of earshot of the tents, behind an abandoned car. It is now you realize he's changed into a black hoodie and shedded the tactical vest. He leans his rifle against the side of the car and looks down at you, saying nothing for a few seconds.

"Did you take away my chance to sleep and pull me over here just to stare at me?" you whisper, arms crossing against the gentle breeze that has cooled with the fallen sun.

He exhales through his nose before responding. "About yesterday."

You blink at him, hoping you don't fail at hiding how even the mere mention sets your nerves alight. "What about it?"

The way his eyes move slowly over your face suggests he is searching for the words. Finally, he says flatly, "It was just fucking. A distraction."

"A distraction," you repeat slowly under your breath. The bluntness hits you harder than expected. You bite the corner of your cheek, a bit too hard, and you narrow your eyes. "You really think I don't already know that?"

His broad shoulders roll back in a shrug and his tone shifts far too casual for your liking. "I just didn't want you getting the wrong idea."

The wrong idea. You rip your gaze away, scraping your fingertips into your arm, before looking back at him with a forced shrug of your own. "I can handle fucking, Simon. Like I said, I'm a big girl."

There is an audible inhale, then a low chuckle rumbles in his throat as he leans in, his darkened eyes locking onto yours. He cages you in with his arms, the familiar heat radiating from his touch and already making your brain fuzzy. His hand slides to the back of your neck, guiding you onto your toes as he tears off the mask and lays it on the hood of the car. The glimpse of his strong jaw and the flick of his tongue wetting his lips sends a shiver through you despite the lingering irritation at his words. 

"Yes. You are," he murmurs, his voice rough and low, before capturing your mouth with his in a kiss that feels like the deep, soothing release of sinking into warm water after aching for relief.

You could kiss him for hours, you quickly realize, pleasantly fascinated by how hot and demanding his tongue feels against your mouth. He tastes like how he smells. Pine and salt. You submit to the pace of his lips, every graze of his teeth making your heart thicken. You move your hands through his hair, scratching his scalp, pulling him closer.

"There's something I need," he mumbles, voice etched with a tremble of impatience, and his fingers clench your shirt. With his other hand, he blindly reaches for the car door and forces the rusted thing open with a few tugs. 

"What do you need?" you breathe out, secretly thrilled that he wants you, again, even when it's been only twenty-four hours since he last had you. The mutual desire erodes the fatigue in your limbs and awakens your arousal. 

Without an answer, he spins your bodies, easing into the passenger seat, then pulls you in with him, closing the door with a soft click. The position is awkward at best—your head bumps into the roof, one knee wedged painfully into the center console from the lack of space. The car smells like stale leather and dust, but thankfully not like rot. It's far from enticing, but none of that matters when he forces the seat to recline, creating just enough room for you to lay on top of him.

You can feel him, hot and straining within his jeans, as you kiss him again and begin to move your hips instinctively. It is a thrilling notion, that you have made him hard so quickly, and you wonder if he ever touched himself like you did, stroking his cock with a callused hand that he imagined as you. The image of it, in combination with the friction on your pussy, has you greedily reaching to undo his belt buckle. 

He breaks from your lips with a grunt and grabs your wrist. "Not that."

Huh?

You don't have the chance to question him before the notch in his throat bobs, and he begins unzipping your jeans, instead. "My face. Sit on it." 

The blush on your cheeks is hidden in the car's small, dark space. His half-lidded gaze lifts to yours, and you nod absently before helping him push your pants and underwear to your ankles, shifting awkwardly to discard them to the floor. His hand immediately moves between your bodies, his fingers brushing against your wetness with a sharp inhale. It should make you embarrassed, but it doesn’t—not with the way he watches you, his other hand peeling off your shirt, the whites of his eyes flashing over your naked body with such unabashed hunger that you realize it must’ve been simmering in him for as long as it has in you.

Again, you're the only one undressed. His hands knead the plush of your ass, the massage of your sore glutes drawing a moan from you. He pushes you up his chest and you move your knees, until his face is level with your cunt, nose caressing your throbbing clit. You have to grip the headrest of the backseat to keep yourself steady, neck craned. His palms cup the backs of your thighs, keeping them apart. 

He's already put his mouth on you, but for some reason, this time feels more vulnerable. You become unconsciously alert of the fact you are not the girl you used to be, the one who shaved every inch of her body before going on a date, and scrubbed her skin with perfumed body wash. You have been sweating all day in the French humidity, and not a single part of you is hairless. When he attempts to pull you to his mouth, you resist with a wiggle of your hips.

"You don't—we don't have to do this, you know. I mean, I haven't shaved in years and—"

He bites your thigh. "Stop talking."

"Ghost, I'm disgusting."

His brows furrow, confused, before he exhales a soft laugh, breath fanning your cunt. "I don't care."

You writhe. "No, seriously—"

"I'm a big boy, Twix," he throws back you.

His tone is final, and with that, he ignores your protests and tightens his hands on you, pulling you to sit on his jaw. His tongue licks a bold stripe from hole to clit, then back down to your hole, where he swirls it a few times before pushing in. Your mouth hangs open in a silent surrender. It is you at his mercy now. His mouth feels even hotter on your cunt for some reason, causing your head to lull forward because of the ceiling, hair dangling. 

Your nails scrape into the leather. His tongue fucks you, nursing the sore flesh that his cock had stretched. He pushes you down with more force, and meets the juncture of your thighs with an arch of his neck, pressing his face deeper. There is a small worry that he might not be able to breathe, but it is erased when his tongue visits your clit with a heady groan, the vibrations of his vocal chords making your muscles flinch. He circles it with a light pressure. You reach down to grip his hair, silently demanding more. He listens, pressing his tongue harder.

"Fucking... yeah, like that."

One of his hands glides up your stomach and squeezes your breast. He keeps sucking, toiling with your puckered nipple at a similar pace. Despite the uncomfortable position, your hips buck and thrash. Your hand slaps against the window as he makes a sloppy mess out of you. The overgrown stubble on his jaw scrapes between your tightened thighs and the sting adds to the overwhelming sensations. You attempt to lift off, seeking a break, but he growls and strikes your ass, forcing you back down.

He licks at you expertly, as if having figured you out in just a few minutes. You screw your eyes shut, a small but swift orgasm rolling through you when you hear him slurp at your folds. He gathers it with a sweep of his tongue, humming. The aftermath leaves your trembling, breath jagged, as a larger one grows towards release.

"Been thinking about that all day," he whispers against you, continuing his ministrations. "Got another one for me?"

His tone feels mocking and desperate at once. Your nails press painfully into the condensation-painted glass. Your other hand fists back in his hair, curling and uncurling, but there is no point in trying to fight it, not when he parts your cunt with his fingers so he can lick more of it. You cum again, harder, almost convulsing as your head bangs upward. It feels never-ending, your moans uncontrollable. He laps you through it, even more relentless, drawing the pleasure for a near-minute, until your lungs can hardly function and you feel like you might collapse.

Your body is pliant and jelly-like when it finally fades. He takes hold of your waist to keep you upright, and pulls his mouth away with a dribble of leakage down his chin. Already, you know it will be impossible to forget that sight, his eyes dazed as if he is the one who just came twice. 

His touch turns somewhat tender when he helps you back down to his lap. He doesn't bother wiping the obscenity from his mouth when he kisses the corner of your lips, firmly, then helps you slip back into your clothes since your brain doesn't seem to have full control over your limbs yet. It's when you place a hand on his thigh to shimmy on your jeans that you feel a distinguishable wet spot.

He finished, too.

The discovery makes your chest swell, and you nibble at your lip as you finish changing. 

"Thanks," you whisper to him. 

He doesn't say anything. He keeps the seat reclined and allows you to lay limp against him, feeling the uneven pace of his heart that matches your own. Clearly, he is a man of his word. This will not be a one time thing, even if it is just fucking. You sigh in sheer exhaustion from the day's activities, unable to ignore the weight in your eyelids as you inhale the residual musk in the air between your bodies. His chest feels firm and warm, a decent place to rest your head, and you think you feel a touch caress your hair. 

You are supposed to be staying up to keep watch, but he doesn't seem ready to move you. Somewhere between wondering how long you can keep this hidden from Blue, and dreading how far you will have to walk again tomorrow, you drift to sleep.

When morning arrives, you are not curled up in a car, but tucked in a sleeping bag. 

Ghost must've put you here, but you have no recollection of it, squinting your eyes against the harsh incoming of sunlight through the nylon walls. Nereida is in the bag beside you, not Blue, which offers a thread of relief. You carefully extricate yourself without waking her and join an awakened Price and Kyle for breakfast.

This morning feels slower than the last. Satisfied with the distance covered yesterday, Price is content with just making it to a town called Englos today. Then, you can focus on replenishing food and water during the evening. 

Your energy is replenished with tomato soup and stale crackers. Blue sits with Ari to eat, and you casually glance at her, but she gives you a subtle shake of her head. No, she hasn't talked to him yet. You offer a small, forced smile and look away.

The day's journey begins after what you would guess is around 8 am. As you walk, you redo your braids, tucking the strands into place so they don't stick to your forehead. Kyle falls in step beside you in comfortable silence, while Ghost moves to the front of the group. He treats you exactly as before—offering only the rare glance of acknowledgment. As if you hadn't just sat on his face last night. As if he hadn't ate you out like you were a source of sustenance.

Though, you’re grateful for his distance. It makes it easier to stay discreet. If he were to look at you too long, you might give yourself away.

It's just fucking.

Nothing but small towns and sprawling fields surrounds you. You pick up a few more words of French and think back to how your parents took you here, but never to the countryside. It's beautiful. Picturesque, even, except for the occasional skeleton tucked between ambery stalks of wheat. You pass through a place called Bailleul, where the remaining buildings remind you of England, when you spot black graffiti inked on a small clock tower.

N'allez pas à Fleurbaix.

"Allez means go," you murmur, stepping over some broken glass. "So what does n'allez pas mean..."

"Picking up a new language?"

You swing your head at Kyle, blinking, and he chuckles lightly at your reaction. 

"Yeah. I thought it might come in handy when chatting with the thriving local population."

He shakes his head in amusement. "Have you been here before?"

"When I was a kid. Once to Paris, and once to a ski resort."

"Ah. So you were one of those kids."

You frown. "What kids?"

"The kids who had money to go skiing."

You shrug, thinking back. "I mean, we weren't rich by any means. Just comfortable."

He nods, the companionable silence resuming as you replay the graffitied words in your head. N'allez pas must mean do not go. Do not go to Fleurbaix. You are about to ask Kyle if that is where you are headed when he speaks first.

"Are we good, Twix?"

His question throws you off guard. You make eye contact and he raises an expectant brow as if he is referring to something...

Right. He kissed you. It feels like forever ago since it happened, but it was only a week maybe. The memory almost makes you cringe, especially in comparison to what you've done with Ghost the past two days.

"Yeah," you dismiss breathily. "Yeah, of course. We're good."

He seems genuinely relieved by your answer, smiling with a sliver of teeth. "Good. I'm glad. I was an idiot and not in the right headspace. But still, I'm sorry I made you uncomfortable. I've been trying to give you space."

"It's fine, honestly," you tell him. "We are all under a lot of stress."

He releases a breath, then brushes a shoulder against yours. "So we're friends, you and I? Or something like that."

You nod with a little laugh, shifting the backpack. "Something like that. By the way, do you know if we are going by a place called—"

"Gaz. Come here for a moment," Ghost calls.

His tone is abrupt, causing everyone to halt. Without question, Kyle jogs over, his boots scraping against the gravel as he moves toward Ghost, who is crouched on one knee, fingers brushing over the matted grass at the side of the road. You squint, trying to figure out what’s caught their attention, and step closer to get a better look.

"A lot of them," Kyle says quietly, his palm pressing gently into the flattened vegetation. Now, you can see it—clear signs of something recently passing through. The ground is torn up, the plants bent and trampled. "It can't have been long ago," he adds, frowning as he observes the damage.

Ghost doesn't look up as he responds. "A horde went through here. Maybe in the last day." He inhales the humid breeze, and shifts his gaze toward Price. "I can smell them from the east."

"We could run right into them if we keep following the D231," Price mutters, drumming his fingers on the rear of his gun. He glances at the nearest road signs, then unfolds the map. "We could shift west for a few kilometers, through Fleurbaix, then cut back toward Englos."

"I just saw something that warned against going to Fleurbaix," you speak up, thumbing the belt loop in your jeans as you look between them.

Ghost's brow rises. You ignore the nerves that prickle your cheeks beneath his stare. 

"I mean, there are signs saying keep out of everywhere by now," Kyle reasons. "That's probably from the start of the infection."

"It's either Fleurbaix, or risk a run in with the horde," Ghost says.

You nod, more so to yourself, and murmur under your breath. "Fleurbaix it is, then."

Bailleul fades at your backs as you keep moving.

The scent of Greys lingers in the shifting air, but it is difficult to detect amid the strong aroma of flowers that pop up in every shade, replacing the fields of wheat. Roses, violets, and some yellow one you don't recognize ornate the rolling hills for as far as you can see. The buildings turn more upright, strong stone that has yet to falter from neglect. You keep reading the signs, even though you don't have the map to refer to, and your spine tightens when you read Fleurbaix: 1 km. 

You unsling your bow without thinking, tapping your nails against the wood.

The road becomes a bit windier as it cuts through some small farms. You even spot a few cows roaming the overgrown pastures which Blue seems curious by. You notice more painted words on the sides of the homes: Nous devons expier nos péchés. It repeats a few times, but you fail to translate it. The only part that clicks is nous, which you think means we.

We something... something...

After crossing a small bridge over a dried creek bed, you excuse yourself to relieve your bladder.

"Keep going, I'll catch up."

You step over what looks like a metal dog chain left on the road and situate yourself between a tree and old BMW. Squatting burns your thighs, and reminds you of your dried cum on them that you've tried, yet failed, to completely wipe off. You clench your teeth as you pee, when there is a sudden sound behind you that makes you flinch, and you quickly zip back up before whirling around. A rat—your shoulders sink. It sits up on its hind legs and stares at you with beady eyes.

"I guess I'm just jumpy sometimes, little guy," you whisper, leaning in. "You would be, too, if you've had to deal with what I have." The rat doesn’t blink. "Right. Well, I’m sure Ghost would think this is incredibly sexy—me having a talk with a rodent."

You sigh, watching him scurry away, but then another rat scurries over your boot. You jerk back, gaze following its direction to an old building—a schoolhouse or chapel, judging by the circular stained-glass window below the roof. Beautiful shrubs lines the sides, seemingly well-kept. The door hangs ajar, with more vermin pouring out in an endless line.

"Jesus. Quite a lot of friends you have, huh?"

You glance down the road. The others are still close but walking ahead. You should catch up. It's not safe alone. But against your better judgment, you step toward the door, pushing it open. Rats scatter underfoot as a thick, rancid smell hits you. Death—fresh and cloying, even more so than the flowers.

Blood streaks the stone floor inside, pooling where vermin feast. Splintered pews lead to an altar. You freeze, taking it all as the color drains from your face. Lying there ceremoniously is what's left of a body, hardly recognizable—ribs torn through flesh, a dangling optic nerve, a mangled groin. A plethora of bite marks cleave through the remains. Bile rises in your throat as the sound of gnawing echoes through against the sun-lit walls.

But what truly grips you is the writing, in blood, draped over a small cross.

Nous devons expier nos péchés.

You whip around and run, the door closing heavily behind you.

"Simon!" His name claws up your throat.

[nayaesworld]

My favorite Dork

A/N: something short because this idea was stuck in my head for a complete week straight 😭..I hope yall enjoy🤭

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“You’re such a dork!”

“Mmcht..you said you liked it when I explained these things to you?” Terry turned and laid between your legs with his back turned to you as you stroked the short curls on his head. You loved listening to him blab to his heart's content about his favorite nerdy shows and topics. It made your coochie drip like a faucet when his sea green eyes lit up and that boyish grin found his face, it was so sexy and you had it all to yourself.

“I do, you're MY nerd. And if you said Eren Yeager had a right to let all those people die…I believe you bubby.” Terry had been hell bent on explaining Attack on Titans from beginning to end, making sure you understood every detail minor and large. He had a cute obsession with the show and the shelves in his room were lined with figurines, his closet had hoodies with his other favorite animes on them, and his watchlist on his tv was filled with new and old shows.

“All you gotta understand is that Eren is that nigga, and he was destined for this shit…end of story.” His voice elevated with excitement and his shirtless body was warm against your legs. You tapped his shoulder signaling him to lean up. Your sticky arousal was becoming uncomfortable in your panties and you needed to catch your breath to try and settle your horny thoughts.

“I need to go to the restroom bubby I’ll be right back.” You stood up from the bed pulling the pink sleep romper from between your heavy cheeks. A heavy smack on your right cheek had you spinning around quickly to face your best friend, a silly smirk on his mischievous face.

“I don't know why you walk around in this…why are you tempting me when you know you can’t handle this dick?” A tiny gasp left your mouth and your mouth sat open for a while thinking of a comeback.

“Me tempting you, Terry you tempt me often trust me…plus it’s not that I couldn’t handle it, you’re just so big. I’ve never tried to take anything that big before and I’ll admit I chickened out so what.” You rolled your chocolate eyes at him and crossed your arms. You were more than down for the dick at the time but seeing it and taking it was two complete different things.

“You know I had to jerk off to your panties that night…I was so horny that night when you left. And your panties were still so soaked I-I couldn’t let all that juice go to waste so I used it.” Your head was spinning at this point and you could barely stare him in his face after his confession.

His tall body sat on the edge of the bed, bulky arms reaching for her waist and pulling her into his open legs.

“Remember those FaceTime calls we used to do..I miss those, I wish we never stopped them.” You sighed and looked down at him. When the two of you were separate from each other masturbating on FaceTime was the go to…you’d get all wet and leak all over your bed from his deep velvet voice and moans.

“Terry I was in a relationship at the time, that’s why we stopped them… I thought he was a good guy and I didn’t want to risk what we were building.” He snorted at that and rubbed along the backside of her thighs.

“Yeah and that ended with me whooping his ass…y/n you’ll always have me I need you to understand that. I'm not going anywhere until you tell me to.”

“And I’ll always thank you for beating his ass, he was a dick and you protected me regardless of how you felt about our relationship..I love you bubby.” You leaned down to trail kisses across his face trailing them eagerly to his ear.

“When you nerd out and get all excited it makes me so wet. Do you know how many nights I had to go home and stuff my pussy because of you..and you were just so oblivious to it all, how I’d encourage you to keep talking.”

“All these years I’ve been sitting here yapping and you were turned on by it…you’re a tease you know that right?”

“It was my dirty little secret..it was innocent on your end but I was just being a freak. I wanna try something new, if you’re up for it.” His pretty green eyes held hers in a suspicious glare.

“What you trying to get into peaches?” Oh he was not playing fair.

“Oh now I’m peaches again, boy you are so sneaky. Now listen up..I’ve always had this fantasy I wanted to act out with you. I always wanted to jerk off a nerd and listen to him blab about his interests, I’ve wanted that nerd to be you for a long time.”

“You know you my peaches when you get nasty, and I’ll fulfill whatever fantasy you want…there’s lube in my top drawer.” You shook with excitement and bounded to his sleek black dresser to retrieve the bottle of pineapple flavored lube.

Your hands worked to unbutton the top of your romper. Double D titties bouncing as you positioned yourself on your knees in front of Terry to give him a perfect view of your plentiful breast. Your hands ran over his black netted basketball shorts, his heavy bulge making a tent in them. Eager to get your hands on the monster you motioned for him to pull them down just enough for you to work your magic. Your heavy breast kept him occupied as you squeezed a hefty amount of lube into your hands.

“Is there something new that you’ve been interested in bubby?” Your hands saturated his shaft in the flavored lube as you stared up at him expectantly.

His fingers twirled a taut nipple before he answered. “Mhmh…a show on Netflix based on a book I read. It-It’s about a mutant’s journey to protect his child surprise…fuck squeeze my tip. Yesss.” One hand sat firmly at his base, the other tightly wrapped around the leaking head.

“I like how you’re two different colors…prettiest dick I’ve ever seen. Keep talking, I wanna know more.” Lips now placing kisses lightly to the pulsing appendage.

“He tries to help her uncover her powers and hone them while building her trust…creating a bond with her. Fuckkk peaches hmm…suck it harder uh huh, now open wider let me fuck this throat.”

Mouth wide and tongue out, you welcomed nine inches of pineapple flavored dick down your throat. His toes ground into the carpet as he found his footing to serve mouth watering strokes to your mouth. Saliva dripped down your chin to your breast as his balls slapped your chin.

“I want this pussy next and I don’t want no excuses…shake your head yess.” your greedy hands tugged softly on his heavy sack and you shook your head up and down.

“If you can throat it you can take it right?” This time he nodded your head for you, too impatient to wait for your response.

“Y/N is scared of dick…but not peaches huh? Peaches takes dick she don’t run from it, ain't that right?” You were beyond turned on, freaked out, and now you were letting him hype you into taking nine inches of pulsating dick. No more running from the dick.

“If you nut before me you owe me a trip to Sephora…you better hold out big boy.”

Nerdy dick was the best dick…that point you couldn’t argue

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[hencheri]

young lust

18+ mdni.

You want Mark so badly, but he thinks you’re too young for him. With a little more convincing though, he eventually gives you what you want— in a less than gentle way.

pairing: rapper!mark x fem!reader

warnings: mean mean mean mark!!, legal age gap, noncon/dubcon, degradation, reader is mean to mark as well oops, unprotected sex, choking.

a.n.: this is just self-serving atp. hope it serves y'all too <3

.

Mark thinks he’s never been eye-fucked this hard before. He’s flattered, of course, but something’s off. 

You’re hot and very tempting, too, there’s no need in denying that. The little dress you’re wearing clings to your ass and he honestly can’t stop looking at it, especially with your back turned to him, occasionally glancing over your shoulder to meet Mark’s eyes. 

Your gaze is so obviously flirtatious, you don’t even try to be subtle. The finger stuck between your teeth and the look you send him tell Mark everything he needs to know; you want him as much as he wants you. 

He imagines your smaller body pressed against the bathroom wall, his hips clashing against your ass roughly, listening to your moans muffled by the loud music playing throughout the club. He sees it, that slutty mouth chanting his name like a prayer as he gropes your breasts with his palms through your dress. 

Mark looks at you before taking a sip from his alcoholic drink, then shifts his gaze back to Jisung standing in front of him.

“You know each other?” 

He’s taken off guard by the question, taking a second to respond. 

“Uh, no,” he thinks about what to say, but he really doesn’t have a clue on how to explain this… exchange. “We… we don’t.” 

Jisung sports a perplexed yet amused expression on his face. “So where is all that tension coming from?”

Mark raises a brow, eyeing you one last time, but you’re not looking at him anymore. 

“I’m not sure,” he admits, a faint smirk drawing on his lips. “Do you know her?” Mark asks in return, a little curious. 

He won’t lie that he likes the mystery of all this, not knowing who you are adds to the desire, to the inexplicable lust that draws him to you. He wants to mess around, do what he wishes just because he can. And that includes you. He wants to do you so bad. 

“Yeah, of course, we’re in the same company,” Jisung tells him, “she’s in this new girl group, you know. Up in the charts, just right under you,” his friend grins, looking at Mark to see his reaction.

He’s surprised for a second, uttering a “really?” and Jisung nods his head as a yes. 

Mark never pays attention to the charts, even though he gets reminded of them practically everyday. He’s aware of his success—way too aware of it—but he’s not the artist obsessed with numbers. He knows he makes good music and it’s all that matters to him. 

“I don’t know how you still haven’t heard of them already,” Jisung continues, “of her, especially.” He tilts his head in your direction, now both men’s attention on you. “Everyone’s fond of her.”

“Are you?” Mark wonders, narrowing his eyes at his friend. 

“Sure,” Jisung agrees, “she’s a sweetheart. Seems down to earth, for the few times we’ve talked.” 

This intrigues Mark. Does a sweetheart usually act so slutty with strangers? Perhaps he’s not a stranger to you, you very probably know him—everybody does—but he doesn’t think he’s ever gotten a girl this bold with him. And surely not someone who’s proclaimed to be a sweetheart, in this industry where anything opposite to pureness is unacceptable. 

He can feel your gaze on him now and he doesn’t hesitate to lock eyes with you once again. You laugh at whatever the person you’re talking to said, almost having Mark envious for not being the one making you laugh right now. 

You’re good at this, he thinks. Really good. Staring straight into his eyes, making him feel like he’s the centre of your attention when in reality you’re talking with someone else. If he could, he would take you with him, bring you to his car and fuck you directly onto his shiny leather seats, door wide open. He knows you’d love it. 

“Is she your age?” he says, taking a sip of his drink, eyes still on you until he hears Jisung’s answer.

“Uh, no, not exactly,” his friend responds, “younger, in fact.” 

He immediately breaks eye-contact with you, looking back at Jisung. Mark feels his heart starting to beat a little faster, suddenly anxious. Or is it embarrassment? Concern? Whatever it is, the desire he once felt, has now shifted. 

“What? How old?”

“Well, I’m not sure, Mark. 21, maybe?” Jisung frowns, trying to recall what you’d told him, but it wasn't information he really registered back then. 

Mark gulps down. He knew something was off, why didn’t he listen to his intuition?

He’s 25 and you’re 4 years younger than him. You’re barely an adult. 

“Don’t tell me you’ve gone soft now,” Jisung chuckles, noticing the deflated expression on his face. 

“Barely.” 

He empties his glass, settling it down on the counter near him after. He tells Jisung he’ll come back in 5, heading for the bathrooms. 

—-

Mark washes his hands in the sink, drying them off with a towel. He looks at himself in the mirror, leaning over the counter. The music is loud, making the ground vibrate under his feet, making it almost impossible for him to think. Maybe it’s a good thing, he can’t overthink, then. 

“You’ve abandoned me,” he hears a voice saying, lifting up his head just in time to see you entering the bathrooms. “I was wondering where you’ve been gone…” 

Your voice is as sultry as your eyes, as sensual as your body in this ridiculously tight dress. He can’t help but wander his eyes over your figure, looking at what now feels so immoral. If it wasn’t for that—morality—he wouldn’t stop himself from taking you right here and there, but something has to stop him. 

If nothing ever does, god knows all the things he would’ve done since now. 

You approach Mark with slow steps, a teasing smile on your lips, a very precise idea in mind. He wants to back away, leave, forget about everything, but he doesn’t. He’s curious, tempted. 

“Or maybe that’s where you wanted me to be?” you grin, putting your hand around his bicep, the other leaning on top of the counter. 

He stares back at you, unconvinced. “I was about to leave,” he explains, and he sees the glint in your eyes changing. You don’t like rejection. 

“Really?” you utter, the tone of your voice a pitch higher— sounding somewhat bitter. “I swore there was something between us… With the way you were looking at me,” you say, your hand lingering on his arm before removing it. “Do you often look at women like you want to fuck them and then leave them, Mark?”

This confirms that you know him. For some reason, he feels uneasy about the fact that he knows nothing about you but you know all about him. 

You get even closer, only a few centimetres before your body touches him. 

Truthfully, you were the only ever girl he was about to do this to. It didn’t feel like a big deal when he thought about it, but now that he’s been caught, he feels a little guilty. 

“I didn’t take you for a coward,” you whisper.

Mark arches his brow at that, wondering how in the hell did he get in such a situation. Getting called a coward by a brat? By a spoiled little girl who didn’t have to lift a finger for success to find her? 

“You should go back to your friends,” he carefully advises. 

But you find it funny, laughing softly. “So you are a coward, Mark Lee,” you mockingly say, tone condescending, tongue pressing behind your bottom teeth as his name leaves your mouth. “Are you afraid of something? Don’t worry, I don’t bite. Unless you’re into it?”

He keeps his hands away from you, as if the mere feeling of your skin under his fingertips would break down his barriers. He turns his head to the side, away from yours, as you roughly pull on his belt, your chest finally pressed down against his. 

“I know you want me,” you whine, “to touch me… Fuck me.” 

If he could only fall into temptation… Maybe it’d be easier to just follow his desires. Well, in the meantime it would be, but after? What if he regrets it? What if you regret it? He can’t sleep with every girl he sees. 

He never goes for anyone that is younger than him. Not that much, at least. What kind of man would he be? 

But goddamn, why are you so insistent? Why are you making it so difficult for him?

“You’re too young, okay?” 

You take a step back, letting go of him. Your eyebrows are frowned and you look at Mark like he’s the biggest idiot on earth. 

You scoff. “So that’s what you’re afraid of? My age?” 

You cross your arms over your chest, Mark turning his head toward you now that you’ve put some distance between you. 

“What did Jisung tell you?”

“That you’re 21,” he answers, wondering what you’re going to tell him. After all, what Jisung said could have been bullshit. He hopes, for a moment, that it was. 

Your lips quirk up, a chuckle leaving you. You look to the side then back to Mark. “I’m 20.”

His eyebrows knit together, annoyed that you find this funny again. What else can he expect from a 20 year old anyway? That you take this seriously? 

“You find this funny? Do you realize how much older I am?” 

“Yeah,” you nod, “and that’s why it’s funny. You’re scared of what? A five year difference?”

You step forward again, but Mark backs away this time, hitting the counter behind him. 

“You’re a fucking puss,” you insult him, full of arrogance. 

But something you didn’t expect happens; Mark knocks his body into yours, making you stumble back as he follows you until your back is flushed against the bathroom stall. His hand goes fast to your neck, squeezing. 

He leans in, the expression on his face furious. He doesn’t feel guilty anymore.

“You act like a spoiled little bitch and you wonder why I don’t want you?” For the first time tonight, you’re speechless. His nose brushes over your temple, so close you feel his breath fanning across your face. “Fucking learn how to accept when people tell you no. Learn to shut your mouth from time to time because they won’t like your ass in this industry if you keep this entitled attitude up.”

You’re looking down as Mark’s eyes bore into your skull, blood creeping up to your cheeks. You gulp, not having a word to say in return. You’d rather not talk back.

He eventually lets go of you, turning around and walking out, leaving you alone and… turned on. 

—-

“Hi, Markie.”

The last person he expected to see when entering his studio is certainly you. The only person supposed to be here is Jisung, and yet, here you are, smiling, eyes glinting teasingly. 

He looks at you, then at Jisung, sitting in front of his computer. He turns around on the rolling chair, totally unfazed by the fact that he brought a stranger into Mark’s studio. 

“What is this?” 

“This?” you question, but he ignores you, walking straight to his friend.

“Uh, well, you’ve already met I believe, no?” Jisung asks, slightly confused. He says your name and it’s all it takes to irritate Mark. “She wanted to come see us work, learn a thing or two. I thought it was a great idea.”

Jisung’s innocence is a good thing sometimes, really. It’s refreshing, quite funny, too, but right now, Mark wishes he wasn’t so credulous all the damn time. 

“It didn’t come to you to, maybe, ask for my permission?” he whispers, leaning in so you don’t properly hear him. 

Jisung’s brows raise up, simply shrugging. “Not really,” he admits, “I thought it wouldn’t bother you. I told you, she’s a sweetheart, and she promised to not interrupt too much. Right?” Jisung turns to you and your smile gets bigger, bobbing your head. 

“Absolutely.”

Mark looks hard at you, not believing this one second. Has god sent you on this earth to test him? 

You stare back at him sweetly, and he swears, if it wasn’t for Jisung’s presence, Mark would have made you regret it. Bitterly. 

Surprisingly, you did keep your promise. You didn’t disturb them once, even pretending to care about what they were working on. You seemed close to Jisung, actually being kind to him, the total opposite of how you were behaving the other night. You’re good at playing pretend, Mark realizes. 

Your eyes were on him the entire time, though. You had the same look as he recalled, eye-fucking him right here in his studio. He was pissed off, to say the least, but he didn’t make a comment. That would’ve been weird to say anything in front of Jisung and the last thing he wants is him thinking there’s something happening between you two— because there’s nothing.

He just hoped the end of the day would come rapidly, and it did, to Mark’s relief. 

With Jisung and you gone, he can finally work peacefully, nobody undressing him with their eyes. 

That is until he comes back into his studio.

“What the fuck are you still doing here?” 

He’s lost all of his patience to be respectful to you now. He really doesn’t give a shit. How can someone be so stubborn?

“Told Ji’ I was going to call a taxi,” you explain, getting up from the sofa you’ve been sitting on. “I lied,” you smirk. 

Mark blinks at you, too shocked to say anything. You use the opportunity to get closer, bringing him to you, and then pushing him onto the sofa behind him. 

“Call me ‘too young’ all you want, I recognize a pervert when I see one.”

You don’t think twice before straddling his lap, sitting down on his thighs. Your hands come to rest on his shoulders, and even though Mark sends you the most murderous glare in the world, he does nothing to push you away. 

Curiosity, temptation. 

“If you didn’t know my age, you would have fucked me right against the bathroom stall if I had asked you to,” you affirm confidently, and there’s truth behind your words. Of course there is, Mark knows what he thought of you at first— what position he imagined you in, the sounds you’d make.

“Get off of me,” Mark barks back, his frowned eyebrows giving him this angry look that you like so much. 

You roll your eyes, sighing. “Here I thought I was the whiny little one, but you’re whinier than I am, Markie.”

“I’m not fucking whining, I’m giving you an order.”

“Get me off then,” you propose, grabbing both of his wrists and putting his hands on your hips. “Go on, do it. Or are you too scared to touch me?” You provoke him further, knowing you’ll eventually make him break down, sooner or later. 

“You don’t want me to, believe me.”

His threat has you shivering… and excited. 

“Why’s that?” you wonder, subtly moving your hips over his lap. “You’re sure you’re not the little bitch, hm, Markie?”

You should have expected him to snap sooner, because the moment you say this, he pins you down on the couch, you underneath him. His hold on your wrists is nothing gentle and you can’t even move them. If before you felt like the master of your own game, well now you’ve lost all sense of power, being Mark’s puppet and not the opposite. 

You’re shocked. Scared.

His hand closes immediately around your face, squishing your cheeks between his fingers. “Be disrespectful to me once again and I’ll break your fucking jaw,” he spits at you. “Has anybody ever told you to respect your elders, huh? I bet fucking not,” he snorts, “I’ll teach you some manners myself.”

You don’t understand until he reaches under your skirt, pulling down on your panties. Your eyes widen, letting out whines of protest.

“Stop, stop!” you stress out, trying to grab Mark’s hands now that yours are free. 

But he merely laughs, probably the first time you’ve ever heard him. “Ah, now you want me to stop? After all the begging you did so I’d fuck you.”

Mark doesn’t stop, working on his belt, undoing his pants. 

Your heart accelerates, and despite the worried look on your face, your eyes starting to water, the turn of events please you all too much. 

You briefly fight with him, pushing on his chest like a little girl, whimpering pathetically. Mark stays unfazed, easily taking both of your wrists in one hand and pinning it down above your head. He grunts as he pushes his hard cock into you, a gasp escaping your lips as you feel your walls expanding. 

You blink multiple times, taking a deep breath, and the tears roll down the side of your face, disappearing into your hair. It burns, but you’re so wet. 

You ask yourself if Mark knows you’re faking it, but with how delighted he seems to be forcing himself on you, you doubt that he does. Whatever pleases him. 

“It hurts!” You cry out, wiggling your legs, attempting to close them—to no avail—while he pushes himself all the way inside of your pussy. 

Mark snickers. He couldn’t care less.

“Oh, it hurts?” You nod, gulping down. “Tell me why it hurts.”

He doesn’t wait to move his hips back and forth, using you for his own sick pleasure right away without any second thought. You wanted this. You asked for this. Why should he be careful of you now? You shouldn’t have been so eager. Shouldn’t have acted like such a slut. 

“It-” you begin, but a moan of pain cuts you off, Mark’s hips slapping violently against yours; it has your body moving up, your head hitting the armrest of the couch. “You’re- You’re too…”

“Am I going too rough on your virgin little cunt? Poor girl,” he coos, almost laughing in your face. “Too bad I don’t give a shit, huh?”

You sob out when he keeps on with the assault of his hips, his cock defiling your pussy like you’ve never imagined before. Mark knocks the air out of your lungs, panting heavily above you, his already short nails digging into the fat of your thigh. 

You squirm around, pulling on your wrists, none of your attempts are successful— not like you want them to be anyway, but giving Mark a little of a fight is more fun. 

“Please, Mark, I’m sorry,” you beg, lips trembling. 

His eyes, filled with lust and hate at the same time, lay on you. 

“You should’ve thought about it before pushing me over the edge, if it’s pity you wanted.”

[piastri-fvx]

Her muse. Lando Norris.

Pairing: Lando Norris x artstudent!artist!reader, smau

Summary: When she's an art student and he's an F1 driver.

Word Count: 1,256+

Face claim: Sabrina Carpenter & girls/art from pinterest!!

Disclaimer/s: None, just a whole lot of fluff & lando being absolutely smitten <33

A/N: Watching Miss Americana as I'm writing this, it's so sad but sooooo good 😭🫶 let me know if you have requests or want to be on my permanent tag list <333

♡ Masterlist ♡

------------------------------------------------------

@yourusername

liked by lando, pietra.pilao, flavy.barla f1gossip, user1 and 1.383.295 others

yourusername the artist vs. the art ✨

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pietra.pilao in love with everything you draw 🥰 liked by author

-> yourusername tsym, my love!! ❤️

user1 oh, what i would give to be able to draw like that

-> user2 real tbh, i can't even draw a star 😭

-> user3 i would constantly be drawing if i was her

-> user4 valid of her to choose to study art

-> user5 true

lando beautiful 😍 liked by author

-> maxfewtrell the drawing or your girlfriend? liked by author

-> lando both, duh 😙 liked by author

user6 it looks so real!! 😍

user7 drawing of lando next? liked by author

-> yourusername 🤭

-> user8 GUYS. I FEAR WE ARE GETTING THE MOST PERFECT DRAWING SOON

flavy.barla can't wait to see you again!! liked by author

-> user9 DOES THIS MEAN MORE Y/N PADDOCK APPEARANCES????

-> user10 YES PLEASEEEEE

-> user11 I AM SAT.

user12 y/n, pookie, how do I sign up for your life?

user13 y/n, can i please be your friend 🙏

-> user14 she seems like she'd be such a fun and sweet friend 😭

-> user15 atp, i have a friend crush on her.

-> user16 real, i'd be content with just being her friend 😣

@lando

liked by yourusername, oscarpiastri, taylorswift, user1, maxfewtrell and 4.926.956 others

lando my girl drew this amazing portrait of me 🥰

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user1 obsessed 🥲

user2 how is she literally so talented 😭❤️

-> user3 i wonder the same thing, lmao

taylorswift desperately need her to draw me and give me some lessons on how to draw 😍 liked by author

-> yourusername AHHHHH i'm freaking out right now omg, hi!! I would LOVE both of those!!

-> user4 chat am i dreaming?

-> user5 MOTHER AND MOTHER???

-> user6 in need of the drawing of tay tay asap!!

yourusername glad you like it, my love 🥰 liked by author

-> lando oh i adore it ❤️

-> lando not as much as i adore you though 😙

-> yourusername i love you, you muppet 🫶🧡

-> lando i love youuuuuu

-> mclaren @yourusername the orange heart 😍

-> user7 papaya 🤭

-> user8 mclaren is her biggest fan

-> user9 istg yeah

user10 okay but can we talk about the way she's literally so effortlessly beautiful?

user11 we need a y/n hair routine 🛐

-> user12 it's so shiny and prettyyyy 😭

user13 i wanna be friends with y/n and lanfo so baddd

-> user14 fr because they seem like they'd be so much fun to be around 😭❤️

-> user15 i want the bond they have 😣🫶

user16 i think i just turned bi

-> user17 that's the kind if effect lndo and y/n have on people 😭

user18 brb gonna go cry, I WANT HER SO BAD

@f1gossip

liked by user1, user2, user3, user4 and 58.838 others

f1gossip lando and his girlfriend y/n were spotted in Singapore earlier today ❤️

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user1 they're so 😍😍😍😍

-> user2 fr 😭

user3 the highway looking a lil too comfy rn...

-> user4 i feel you bro

-> user5 in need of a relationship like theirs 😣

user6 AHHHHHHH

user7 guys... THE. HAND. PLACEMENT.

-> user8 IT IS TO DIE FOR.

-> user9 I WANT HIMMMM

user10 i want a bf like lando so bad

-> user11 and i want a gf like y/n so bad

user12 JUST LOOK AT HER. OML.

user13 THE WAY HIS- OMG THE WAY HIS HEAD IS LIGHTLY TILTED IS SO HOTTTT

-> user14 I AM DECEASED

-> user15 I DIED DEAD WHEN I SAW THIS

user16 there is no couple more attractive than them

-> user17 real, no one can convince me otherwise 🛐

user18 HER OUTFIT IS EATINGGGGG

-> user19 SO IS HISSSS

user20 CAN LANDO FIGHT? 😍

user21 is a relationship like this too much to ask??

-> user22 i want thisssss 😭

user23 HE'S. LETTING. HER. SIT. ON. HIS. CAR.

-> user24 SCREAMING CRYING

user25 OMG IS SHE THERE WITH HIM FOR THE SINGAPORE GRAND PRIX????

-> user26 I HOPE SHE IS OMG

@yourusername

liked by taylorswift, lando, oscarpiastri, charles_leclerc, maxfewtrell and 7.385.914 others

yourusername where's the trophy? he just comes running over to me ❤️🫶

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lando you're way better than any trophy i could ever ask for ❤️ liked by author

-> user1 AHSHNFJXNYKFKY

-> yourusername couldn't be happier to have witnessed your win, my loveee 🧡

-> user2 'my love' I'M NOT CRYING, YOU ARE

taylorswift 🫶🫶🫶 liked by author

-> user3 TAYLOR???

-> user4 OMGOMGOMG

-> user5 TAYLOR DRAWING BY Y/N WHEN????

-> yourusername @user5 soon 🤭

user10 face cards never decline 😍

user6 the way y/n was jumping up and down and cheering for him during the raceeee 😭

-> user7 she's the best wag fr 🫶

-> user8 landoy/n supremacyyyy

user9 he looks so genuiely happy oml

-> user10 his smileeeee 😭🫶

flavy.barla cutiessss ❤️❤️❤️ liked by author

-> yourusername THANK YOUUU, LOML!! 🥰

-> flavy.barla MY WIFEEEE 🤭❤️ liked by author

-> user11 estie bestie and lando norizz left the chat

-> user12 real, i love the way they're not even protesting

-> lando we're used to it by now

-> estebanocon yeah, we don't exist to them when they're together 👍

user13 they're both so lucky tbh

user14 well deserved win

-> user15 lando seems to always drive better when y/n's there 😭❤️

user16 the y/n paddock content we needed 😍

@taylorswift

liked by lando, yourusername, gracieabrams, oliviarodrigo, aryansimhadri and 7.082.483 others

taylorswift my lovely friend @yourusername drew me 🫶

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user4 YALL I WENT ON HER PROFILE SHE'S STUNNING

-> user5 SAME I WANT HER SO BAD

yourusername AHHHHHH!! TYSM, TAY TAY!! liked by author

-> taylorswift NO TSYM FOR THIS BEAUTIFUL DRAWING, DARLING <33

-> user1 THEIR FRIENDSHIP AHHHH

user2 work of art 😍

lando my girlfriend everyone, back off 😙

-> yourusername muppet 🙄❤️

-> user3 tutorial on how to get a relationship like theirs please 🙏

user6 she's dating an F1 driver omg

-> user7 yeahhh, lando norris

-> user8 he's a mclaren driver, right?

user9 HER DRAWINGS ARE ALL SO GOOD OMG

-> user10 YESSSSS

-> user11 YEAH I'M SO GLAD TAYLOR HELPED US FIND AN ACCOUNT LIKE HERS OML

user12 w drawing

user13 didn't know taylor had a friend who's that good at drawing 😍

-> user14 she's friends with everyone 😭🫶

-> user15 true though

@yourusername

liked by lando, charles_leclerc, flavy.barla, lilymhe, pietra.pilao and 1.847.926 others

yourusername drawing & quality time>>>>

tagged: @lando

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lando my favorite time of the yearrrr liked by author

-> yourusername mine tooooo

-> user1 they're so pookie 😭

user2 COUPLE GOALS

alexandrasaintmleux the drawing is adorable, y/n 🥰 liked by author

-> yourusername tyy, my loveee!!

-> user3 she should draw leo omg

-> user4 yess!!

user5 entering 2025 as a y/n and lando fan 😝

-> user6 fan and shipper 🥰

-> user7 realll, landoy/n 🛐

user8 CAN LANDO FIGHT???

-> lando yes 😒

-> user9 prove it

user10 THE TALENTTTTT 😍

user11 the dog is so cute dkdnfbkfkd 😣

-> user12 i want a dog like that

-> user13 the drawing is so realistic too 😭

-> user14 i love itttt

user15 i love lando (i'd rather date his girlfriend)

-> user16 she's drop dead gorgeous 😭

-> user17 i can't blame you 😣

------------------------------------------------------

A/N: HOPE U ENJOYED AHHHH!! Lmao, loved writing this sm <33

tags!

@freyathehuntress

[ittybxttykxttytxtty]

“I don't need to see it. You got your way about me going to the club and I think it's fair I get my way about the outfit,” you said. “We both know I could've met your friends another time. It didn't have to be tonight. So they'll meet me like this or not at all."

R.E.S.P.E.C.T. 😭 I legit screamed. Read him to filth, baby!!!! GO GO GO GO!

You gripped his wrist before his touch could move further down your body. “What if you upset or hurt me?” You asked.

I think this might be my fave chapter. I THINK. But she ate in this chapter so much. 🥹

If gaslighting was an Olympic sport, he could take the gold. Everything about the man had you second guessing just about everything.

GASLIGHT HIM BACK, GIRL PLEASEEEEEEEE!!!!!

“But before I forget, you owe me a picture of you since I found you.”

For the most part, I cringed hard at this. But I guess the good thing is, he asked...? Is this pathetic or what? I am confused. Buchanan, please control yourself. 😬

“Then let me introduce you to some of the staff. And don't worry. They know who you are,” he said.

It's just not comforting like he thought it is. 😭

“Nice to meet you,” Ari cut in, his voice deep and even. People probably hit on him, too. And as domineering as they were, you felt an odd sense of security.

Bucky look away for a sec. As an Ari girlie, ARI PLEASE SHOOT YOUR SHOT. IN EVERY FIC YOU GRACE US WITH YOUR PRESENCE, YOU ARE ALWAYS WELCOMED AND EMBRACED. 😭 I love him, your honor.

“I’m good with faces and you have a very pretty face,” he smiled.

Everyone in this establishment has a death wish, I swear to god.

“But someone did,” Bucky guessed, his eyes still dark when you didn’t deny it. “I’ll take care of it,” he promised, ushering you toward Ray.

Good, now kiss my forehead then kill that hoe.

It was no wonder Bucky did whatever he wanted unchecked.

Everyone is gaslighting, gatekeeping, and girlbossing. This is not good for the community.

“And you wanted someone to love you. So did he,” he said with more gentleness than you expected. “There’s always some madness in love.”

Omg, Ray. Shut up, stop spouting Shakespeare level romance shit on me. It isn't fair 😭

“And between love and madness lies obsession,” you said. That’s what Bucky was to you: obsessed. “Why am I the one? Why is he so desperate to have me?”

Omg, she came back swinging. 😮

“It’s good to see you again,” Steve smiled.

This bitch. I thought you were trustworthy! ( I did not, it's Steve. When there's Steve, there's Bucky.)

Hold You Tight: Part 7

Pairing: Club Owner!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Fic Summary: The owner of The 107th wants you to be his girl whether you like it or not.

Part 6 | Series Masterlist | Part 8

Chapter Summary: You meet some of the staff at the club and try to reason with one of Bucky's men about your situation.

Chapter Word Count: Over 4.3k

Chapter Warnings: DARK AU, tension, mention of stalking, inner conflict, insecurities, manipulation, possessiveness, flirting, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?), more warnings to come.

A/N: More Hold You Tight! Hope you lovelies continue to enjoy. Bucky edit by the beautiful @nixakimbo . ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby , but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You weren't sure exactly how far the club was from the bookstore, but you didn't say anything for a minute after his declaration. You’d read stories about instalove before, the accelerated trajectory of feelings and relationships. It wasn't something you thought you’d ever be on the receiving end of. That mixed with a dark antihero.

How was this your life?

Bucky chose to break the silence. “You can change here if you want.”

Your heart rate spiked as you stared at the garment bag. There was a chance that the dress was to your liking, your style. But in the car, it wasn't like you could shield yourself if you undressed. He’d see you. Maybe even try to touch you. Was it worth the risk?

Reaching for it, you took a deep breath and curled your fingers around the hanger. The moment you grabbed it though, you set it right back on the hook. You wouldn't bother unzipping it to take a look. You weren't a doll for him to play dress up with.

“Sorry, Bucky,” you began, shifting to face him. “I’m sure it’s a nice dress, but I'm not wearing it.”

“You sure?” He asked. “You haven’t even seen it.”

“I don't need to see it. You got your way about me going to the club and I think it's fair I get my way about the outfit,” you said. “We both know I could've met your friends another time. It didn't have to be tonight. So they'll meet me like this or not at all."

His eyes snapped to you, pinning you in place as you froze. Giving him an ultimatum over something he may consider trivial wasn't a smart move and it wouldn't be a hill you'd die on, but you needed some sort of win. Part of him had to understand that.

Bucky's lips curled in a small smile, but you still swallowed nervously. “You look stunning to me just as you are,” he said, tracing the collar of your shirt with his fingertip. "Perfect even.”

“What?” You asked. You were far from stunning. “You're really okay with me going into your club like this? I don't think it meets the dress code.” You were lucky your black dress was nice enough to get in the first time.

“And? I said in the bookstore that you can wear whatever you want since you look beautiful in anything, so of course I’m okay with it,” he said, his finger gliding down the middle of your chest. “If you're worried about anyone saying anything, don't be. You’re my girl and my friends and I will shut anyone up who tries to make you feel less than perfect.”

Your eyes widened at the casualness of the threat. There was no reason to threaten anyone on your behalf. You could also hear Marc's voice in the back of your mind, reminding you that Bucky was dangerous. “Bucky, you don't have to do anything.”

“If someone upsets or hurts you, yes, I do,” he said.

Addison was the type of person who would defend you if you were upset or hurt. You would do the same for her. A boyfriend type defending you was entirely different. He could've just said that to make you lower your guard or play on your insecurities. So why did it still sound like he meant it?

You gripped his wrist before his touch could move further down your body. “What if you upset or hurt me?” You asked.

Bucky blinked at your question, an unfathomable look in his eyes. “I promised I’d never hurt you,” he whispered. You were the only one safe from his underlying rage, weren't you? Because something was lurking beneath the surface that you hadn't yet witnessed. “But I'd do whatever I could to make you happy again if I upset you.”

“You realize dragging me to your club didn't make me happy?”

“I didn't drag you. You got into the car with my help,” he teased. When you didn't smile, he sighed. “I'm sorry. You told me you wanted a quiet night and I pushed you to go anyway. I just got so excited for everyone to finally meet the girl of my dreams and…” He shook his head. “That doesn't matter. I should've listened.”

The apology sounded so sincere it threw you for a loop. If gaslighting was an Olympic sport, he could take the gold. Everything about the man had you second guessing just about everything. “I appreciate that,” you said, going with a safe response.

He smiled as the car rolled to a stop. “I’ll make it up to you,” he promised, his gloved hand taking yours.

You wouldn’t ask how he planned to do that. “Wait,” you said, pulling him back slightly before he could open the door. “Can we just sit here for a second?” You weren’t ready to go into the club. Maybe you could buy yourself another minute or two.

“You're stalling,” he smiled. You didn’t disagree. “We can't stall for too long. The longer we stay, the more it pushes back the evening and I promised you’d be in bed by 10.”

“I just want to talk for another minute. I still don’t feel like I know much about you.”

“Like what?” He asked.

“Things like your family? You said there was a story about your mom,” you said.

A swirl of emotions passed in his eyes, a range of sorrow to anger and even hope. “There is, but I want to tell you that story when it’s just us,” he said. Just the two of you. Alone together. “I will say though that the original club belonged to her before I turned it into The 107th. It helps keep part of her memory alive for me.”

“That’s a beautiful thing,” you said honestly. She clearly meant the world to him. “And your dad?”

“He deserved what he got,” he said, not an ounce of pity or sorrow in his voice.

“Oh.” There was no lost love there. You wouldn’t linger on the topic since that was likely another story for another time. “Can you tell me why your left hand is always covered? You said I'd never be a mistress, but are you covering up a wedding ring or something?”

The storm raged in his eyes again and you had to keep yourself from shrinking back when he wrapped a hand around your neck. Your heart pounded as he applied a light amount of pressure, but he didn't squeeze any further. Would anyone help you or care if you tried to scream? “Do you feel a ring beneath the leather?”

“No,” you whispered, your eyes shutting when he leaned in.

His breath fanned across your lips. “I told you before that you’re the only one I see,” he whispered. “So when I do wear a ring on that finger, it’ll be on our wedding day.”

You let out something like a whimper when his thumb rubbed along your pulse. While you wanted to stall before, the car now felt too small. Too hot. You wouldn't be able to breathe if you stayed in there much longer. “I think we waited long enough to go inside,” you whispered.

Both of you sighed when he let go of your neck. “I think we did, too,” he agreed, taking your hand again. “But before I forget, you owe me a picture of you since I found you.”

You glared at him since you hoped he’d forget about that, but he only smirked before he helped you out of the car. Parked right in front of the club, you nearly jumped when you saw Raymond standing close by, his gaze flickering between you and his boss. “Hey, Ray,” you said as Bucky pulled you along.

Raymond said your name in reply as he followed close. There were already a few people lined up to get in, but your attention was on the bright sign of The 107th. It welcomed you. Taunted you. You had a feeling you were going to become very familiar with the ins and outs of this place.

“Let’s go, Kotyonok,” Bucky whispered. You hadn't realized you stopped walking until he slipped his arm around your waist and guided you forward.

Bucky nodded to the doorman and walked tall with you beside him. Of course he wasn't nervous. He had no reason to be. This was one of his castles and he was the king. And he chose a peasant to be by his side. A peasant he wanted to make his queen.

The music vibrated through the floor as you went inside and bypassed the coat check. The sound grew louder as you approached the main floor and watched the crowd, all dressed to impres. The lights bathed everyone in red and it felt like you had walked into a sensual version of Hell. And Bucky, the devil of the establishment, tugged you closer by the waist, but he might as well have put a collar around your neck to show everyone that you were his pet.

“Breathe,” he said close to your ear, making it hard to exhale. You were out of your element, the territory somewhat terrifying since you weren't in the company of your friends this time around. At least your legs weren't shaking. “Would you like a drink?” He asked.

“Maybe later,” you replied over the music.

“Then let me introduce you to some of the staff. And don't worry. They know who you are,” he said. Before you could respond to that and ask what exactly they knew about you, he turned you back toward the way you came and waved a couple of men over. Your breath caught in your throat when they approached. Both wore a black top and pants and were as large as Bucky and looked just as dangerous.

“This is Ari,” Bucky said, nodding to the darker haired man who had a scowl on his handsome face. “And this is Jax.” The blonde smirked when you made eye contact with him. “They’re two of my best bouncers and they’ll help keep an eye on you when you're not with me.”

You scooted closer to Bucky on instinct when both of them stared at you, but you didn't lower your gaze. Their looks could never be as penetrating as the man who owned this place. “Keep an eye on me? Are you my babysitters?” You asked. Would they watch your every move, too, and report back to Bucky?

Ari didn't smile, but the scowl softened. Jax, however, chuckled. “Guess you could say that, but we don't mind,” he said, his grin flirty and eyes twinkling as your cheeks warmed. “It's a pleasure to finally meet you, darlin’.”

“Jax,” was the only thing Bucky said, his fingers digging a bit more into your side. Ray gave the bouncer a warning glance, too.

Jax shrugged. “Just being polite,” he smiled. The man likely had people hanging all over him during his shifts with his charm. He probably wouldn't have looked at you twice under normal circumstances, but you smiled back anyway.

“I appreciate the politeness,” you said.

Bucky’s eyes narrowed. “You’re not being polite. You're flirting with my girl,” he said to Jax, your smile falling immediately when the air around you thickened.

“Just being polite,” he said again, not at all bothered by the look his boss gave him.

“Nice to meet you,” Ari cut in, his voice deep and even. People probably hit on him, too. And as domineering as they were, you felt an odd sense of security.

“It’s nice to meet you both. Hopefully you won't have to babysit me too much,” you said, glancing at Bucky. His fingers were still digging into your side, his muscles tense. Was he jealous? “Breathe,” you urged, giving him the same instruction he gave you moments ago.

The bouncers each had a look of surprise on their faces when Bucky listened and slowly exhaled. “Okay. Thank you,” Ray said, gesturing for them to get back to work. “Boss?”

Bucky’s hold on your relaxed a bit. “Let’s introduce you to Hal and then we’ll go to my office,” he said.

“Office?”

“Quieter than the VIP section,” he explained.

You weren't sure if people recognized Bucky or if it was just the aura of power that he gave off, but people moved out of the way without prompting as he led you toward the bar. He smiled as he did so, completely at ease in his domain. “You know, I don't need babysitters,” you told him.

“You need people to look out for you, especially if you’re with me,” he said.

“Because you’re dangerous,” you said. You’d eventually have to find out why. “Once again, you aren't giving me a choice.”

“When it comes to your safety, I can't,” he stated unapologetically. You grit your teeth as he took you to the bar where a couple of bartenders were working. You didn't pay much attention to the guy at the other end since the one right in front of you had no shirt on, his toned torso on full display.

“This is Hal. Our top bartender.”

“Hey!” The bartender flipped his light brown hair back and flashed you a smile almost as bright as his tan. “It’s good to see you again.”

“Again?” You repeated, nodding as your mind flashed back to Addison’s bachelorette party. “That’s right. You gave my friend a shot before we went into the VIP section. You have a great memory.”

“I’m good with faces and you have a very pretty face,” he smiled.

The attention from his staff was dizzying. It wasn't anything you were used to. What was it going to be like when you met everyone else? You felt so lost.

“First Jax, now you,” Bucky muttered. For a split second, you thought he would try to cover your eyes. “Would you put your fucking shirt back on and stop hitting on my girl?”

“Oh, c’mon. I'll put it on after my shift. This is getting me tons of tips already and will only continue through peak time.” Hal winked at you and you tried to smother a laugh. Between Jax and Hal, you wondered if the two of them had a bet going to see who could make their boss snap. If so, they were brave.

“Bucky, I’m not looking at Hal’s abs,” you said.

The bartender snorted when his boss's eye twitched. “Just get back to work,” he grumbled, stepping a couple of feet away from you to speak to Ray.

“You can look. I won't tell,” Hal smiled, leaning on the bar. “Boss man said you’d make an appearance tonight.”

“And here I am,” you smiled, leaving out that it wasn't by choice.

“Is there anything I can get you? Your drinks are always on the house.”

“I’m fine for-” A man in a blue suit elbowed his way in before you could finish. “Excuse me.”

The guy sneered at you as he gave you a once over. “Ugly underdressed bitch,” he said, making you flinch before he snapped his fingers at Hal.

You glanced down at your clothes, your throat tight. You stubbornly refused to wear the dress Bucky got you on principle, but the jerk’s comment was another reminder that you didn’t belong there. What would prompt someone to be so rude?

“Hey!” The guy snapped at Hal again when he didn’t serve him right away.

The bartender smiled, but it didn't look right as he stood back to his full height. Had he heard what the guy said? “You know, it’s not nice to interrupt a lady, John. Maybe you should apologize.”

“Fuck that,” the guy, John apparently, scoffed. He must’ve frequented the place enough if Hal knew the guy's name and you weren't about to cause a scene. A complete stranger shouldn’t make you feel bad anyway.

Hal’s smile disappeared completely. “Do you know who she’s here with?”

“It’s okay, Hal. Thanks,” you said, your burning eyes on the floor as you moved back to Bucky’s side. You didn't want to be there. You didn’t belong there. Why couldn't you just-

“You okay, Kotyonok?” Bucky asked, lifting your chin with a look of concern. “What’s the matter? What happened?”

“Nothing. I’m fine,” you answered, giving him a tight-lipped smile. You just wanted the night to be over. “Can we go to your office, please?”

Bucky intently searched your face, something dark taking over his eyes as your heart raced. “Ray?”

“Boss?”

“Quick change of plans. You take her upstairs and wait outside my office,” he ordered, swiping his thumb along your cheek. “I think Hal and I need to have a quick chat before I join you.”

“Hal didn’t do anything,” you said quickly. He was a sweet guy from what you could tell and he didn’t need to be on the receiving end of Bucky’s anger for something insignificant.

“But someone did,” Bucky guessed, his eyes still dark when you didn’t deny it. “I’ll take care of it,” he promised, ushering you toward Ray.

“Bucky, it’s fine,” you said over your shoulder, but he had already waved Hal over to speak to him.

“This way, please,” Ray said, leading you away from the bar.

Before you knew it, he took you up a flight of stairs and down a corridor, the decor sleeker than the main floor. The closed double doors at the end of the hall you could only assume was Bucky’s office since Ray had you stop just outside of them. You took a breath and leaned against the wall. Though you could feel the beat of the music against your back, it was much quieter. Less crowded. You didn’t feel completely overwhelmed.

“What’s he going to do?”

“Depends on what or who upset you.”

“You’re my girl and my friends and I will shut anyone up who tries to make you feel less than perfect.

You took a moment to look at the bodyguard as he stood against the opposite wall. Stoic. Pristine. “What am I doing here, Ray?” You sighed. This wasn’t your scene. It wasn’t your world.

“Meeting some of the boss’s staff and friends,” he answered.

“That’s not what I meant. I meant… God, I don’t even know what I mean,” you groaned and wondered how long it would be before Bucky joined you. “But I don't belong here.”

“Yes, you do,” he said.

Why in the world would he think that? “How long have you worked for Bucky?” You asked. It wasn’t that you wanted to really talk, but you didn’t want to let your mind race while you waited.

“A few years now,” he replied.

“You’ve seen him date people then. Has he stalked any of his past girlfriends that you’re aware of or am I the unlucky one?” You asked. Bucky told you he tried to go the traditional dating route and that the last woman he saw tried to rob him.

“You’re the only person he has gone to extremes for,” Ray carefully answered.

“Extremes. You mean stalking,” you said. Did that make you feel better or worse that it was just you? “So, you’re fully aware that he stalked me. And that he plans to move me into his place.”

Ray gave you a single nod, though you wouldn’t say he looked proud. “I am.”

“Can you stop him?” Your stomach dropped when he shook his head. “Why not?”

“You can’t stop or delay the inevitable. He wants you and I’m afraid that’s that,” he said.

Incredulity crossed your face. He sounded like Bucky, but this was somehow worse. Did he not see that his inaction helped upheave your life? “Oh, it’s that simple, huh? Bucky wants me, so he gets me? Did you even try to stop him when he began to do ‘research’ on me?”

“No,” he stated. One simple word that held so much weight.

“What the hell?” Fury seared through you as you pushed yourself off the wall. “You didn’t think to step in and at least tell him, I don’t know, that stalking is crazy and wrong and illegal?!”

Ray blinked and pushed his glasses further up his nose. “You think he’d listen to me?”

Your fury didn’t dissipate, but you did step back. “Well. I assumed…”

“That what? That we’re friends? He may respect my opinion from time to time and he may consider me a friend, but he’s my employer first and will not hesitate to remind me of that,” he said, glancing down the hall. “And perhaps it is not my place to say so, but as wrong as it is this is the happiest I've ever seen him. You ground him.”

“So, as long as he’s happy, it doesn’t matter what he does?” You asked, feeling more hopeless by the second. “Why am I bothering? You don’t care.”

There was no reasoning with Bucky nor his men. At this point, you were going around in circles. It was exhausting.

Ray blinked again. “You assume I don't care because I’m not stopping him. His methods are unconventional, sure, but he just wanted your full attention.”

“There are other less creepy ways to get my attention.”

“Are there? You know what we found when we researched you?” He asked rhetorically. “You never go out. You're either home or at work. When you’re at work, you don't give a second glance to any of the men who come in. Where was he supposed to naturally meet you?”

“That doesn't…” Tears stung your eyes, but you refused to weep. Being a homebody shouldn’t be a tool to use against you or used as a means to manipulate you. “I went out with my friends. And he flat out said ‘where’s the fun in that’ when I asked why he didn't just ask me out. Stop making excuses for him.”

It was no wonder Bucky did whatever he wanted unchecked.

“You went out with friends who are all in relationships and aren't interested in meeting anyone. So you didn't go out of your way to meet others which no one is faulting you for. Breaking in was a bit much, but he was desperate and took drastic steps to get to and keep you,” he said. He spoke like it was natural, logical. “You're afraid. I know. But you’re the one in his eyes. If you try to run, we’ll be forced to catch you. Is that really what you want?”

Your hands shook. “I just want normalcy.” Was that so wrong?

“And you wanted someone to love you. So did he,” he said with more gentleness than you expected. “There’s always some madness in love.”

“And between love and madness lies obsession,” you said. That’s what Bucky was to you: obsessed. “Why am I the one? Why is he so desperate to have me?”

The bodyguard considered your question. “Does there have to be one reason? He has no family left. Work and friends can only take so much of the emptiness away,” he said, glancing down the hall again.

You bit your lip. “When you dug into my life, was there something specific that set me apart from anyone else he ever encountered? An incident or anything?”

Bucky convinced himself you were his soulmate, mind, body, heart, and soul. Ray stood across from you and stated he was happy since you were in his life, the happiest he had ever been. But why? Was the man obsessed simply because you were you or was there a piece of the puzzle you were missing?

“That’s not for me to tell, but I can say he’s devoted to you and you only.” He glanced down the hall again before he straightened up. Was there something for Bucky to tell you then? “Be angry with me if you wish, but know that I’m not just looking out for my boss now. I’m looking out for you, too. We all will.”

You heard Bucky’s footsteps as he walked toward you, but your eyes remained on his bodyguard. “Okay,” you whispered. Ray wasn’t going to help you any further. Not tonight.

Bucky stood in front of you, effectively blocking your view of Ray. “I hope I didn’t keep you waiting long.”

“I hope Hal isn’t in any sort of trouble,” you said.

Bucky gave you a wolfish smile, energy buzzing around him. “Not at all. In fact, I’m giving him a raise,” he said, slipping his arm back around you. What did the bartender tell him exactly and what did he do in response? “I do want to warn you before we go in, they may stare since they’re not used to meetings like this.”

“What, they’re not used to you having someone on your arm?” You asked. You found that hard to believe.

“They’re not used to me having someone I’d burn the world down for,” he said proudly, nodding for Ray to open the doors. “All you’d have to do is give me the match.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you said, gulping when you heard the chatter and laughter inside.

Once again, you were the lamb going into the lion’s den. But you could do this. You just had to mingle a bit longer and then you could go on your way. Bucky swore he’d have you home and you’d hold him to it.

The moment Bucky took you into the office, all conversations ceased. The men appeared relaxed, like they weren't aware of or didn’t care about the aura that surrounded the man beside you. He was right though. They all stared. Including a man with a pair of blue eyes you recognized.

The man who bought tulips from your shop.

“It’s good to see you again,” Steve smiled.

With a sinking heart, you began to accept that there really was no escaping Bucky Barnes.

Sorry to cut this off before meeting the rest of the friends, but it was a natural stopping point. And we'll find out what happens to John in the next part. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[cecizilla1]

Before someone sends a pipe bomb to my house, is it really that horrible and controversial to say that Jimmy was just as much of a victim failed by the same disgusting system as everyone else? While support from loved ones is important, he needed actual resources. We don’t know anything about him beyond that he was struggling, so all we can assume is that he couldn’t hold down a job that was definitely due to his severe mental health issues. There’s nothing wrong with being an advocate for a friend, but it’s incredibly irresponsible to put someone you know is unstable into a literal inescapable environment for MONTHS with people who don’t know what they’re getting into and ripping him away from the possibility of actual helpful resources like intense therapy, psychiatric counseling, and rehabilitation. This man needed to be surrounded by professional and community support systems, not a friend who dismisses everything he does because how is that productive at all? I don’t know, I just feel like so many people are avoiding this conversation because they believe they’re dismissing what he did by being empathetic in that way and it drives me up the fucking wall.

Although I’m not an obsessive, violent, sociopathic narcissist, it’s painful just dealing with being bipolar, past suicidal deviation, and comparing myself to my best friends who have accomplished way more than me while I’ve been struggling to even fill out one job application. The capitalist system we live in grinds us down to our bones that if we can’t climb up the social latter, that if we can’t pick ourselves up from our lowest alone, we aren’t worth shit and are weak—which leads to people like Jimmy lashing out on everything and everyone to gain some sense of superiority.

As someone who is extremely passionate about how capitalism has completely obliterated what it means to be in a caring community because of its intrinsic suffocating individualism, its exploitation of the lower class, and how we are chained down to an unforgiving inherent debt for our whole lives, I just find it childish that so many people avoid thinking about this aspect of his character or completely override him from the story all together.

As much as I LOATH him, I can’t help but wonder what could’ve happened if he did get the help he needed. While it unfortunately blew up in Anya and Curly’s face because they were taken advantage of, is it that fucking horrible to believe that someone can grow and change if given the chance (as long as they obviously don’t hurt you in the process)? It’s the same reason why the prison system—especially the American prison industrial complex—should be abolished because how the fuck is locking someone up for the rest of their lives going to do anything for anybody in the long run? Obviously he needed to be brought to legal justice, but I believe that we should start at the core of why he is the way he is, what will be effective for everybody in the long run, and the possibility of him being reintroduced into society once he gets his mf shit together before people start pulling him this way and that (with boundaries ofc.) I’m a victim of sexual assault and emotional abuse myself, but I don’t want that person to rot behind bars. I just want to heal and move on. I don’t want revenge, I want closure. I want to be able to face that person and know that they won’t hurt anybody else if I am to believe that I myself can grow beyond what happened.

I know that many other creators have expressed the same sentiments already, but I needed to get that off my chest too.

Anyways, this game means so much to me because it touches on societal issues that I care about. Fuck capitalism and may everyone be free from this hell.

[johns-prince]

Loving the truth of it all being that both John and Paul were questionably obsessive and possessive of each other—their time, their attention, their partnership and collaborations. That they both suffered in their own ways, in their own style, jealousy and envy and insecurity and fear of losing each other.

John is often the one depicted to being less subtle about his feelings, with the heart on his sleeve comes the impulsive reactivity to the enigma that is Lennon-McCartney—viciously and openly jealous of girls and boys that found themselves in the spotlight of Paul's admiration and affection. Which isn't exactly untrue mind.

Yet we have moments in Get Back that make it very clear that Paul was hardly any better about it when he felt genuinely threatened and insecure about his position as John's sole partner and childhood collaborator. It makes you think that this gives us a reenactment of Paul's jealous rivalry with Stuart, and reading all those quotes from others who bore witness to Paul being passive aggressive to a T and biting out thoughtlessly mean remarks towards Stu weren't exaggerating.

Whenever I read any fiction and there's John the one secretly pining and infatuated and raging with jealousy and fear of abandonment because nobody stays with him forever, and in the next there's Paul who's consciously and unconsciously yearning in silence and resolute in his decision of life partner(ship) and sick with jealousy and fear of losing this special gift he has with John and only john, it's like. Both are true. Both depictions pool from the bleed out from the reality of what and how it was for them. They were insane about each other. They weren't normal in any genuine sense of the word friend or best friend. Their relationship goes through every category that the human language can put together because it's all encompassing and none of the above at the same time.

They were rivals but in the friendliest of way. They were the closest of friends but obviously more than that, obviously. They were a married couple but only in the metaphorical sense. They were strangers twice but the first came to a natural end and the second was manmade and inevitably untrue. They were lovers but that's not right either. They were brothers they were twins but isn't that a little incestuous. They were soulmates but that doesn't really exist does it. They were all or nothing. If we can't be lovers then we can't be friends and if we're friends then we have to mean everything to each other and more, that's way above the rest, above our wives above our families.

Anyway John and Paul matched each other's freak from day one and while there's various reasons for why they inevitably had a nasty divorce and breakup, what's also true is that John was always thinking about Paul, and Paul to this day has never once stopped thinking about John.

[urno1luv]

Can you please make the puppy gf yunjin into a full fic/imagine including the things you already said in the short you posted? 🙏🙏🙏

encountering a clingy puppy hybrid called yunjin and falling in love with her, despite her weird and often creepy antics -◇

tags: clingy yunjin, breaking in, she's lowkey a creep (but not a perverted one), obsessive?, desperate sex (gp and non gp versions)

The first time Yunjin noticed you, her world tilted. Her floppy ears perked up, her pupils dilated, and her tail wagged in excitement. Something about you—the way you smiled shyly at your friend, the way your voice carried across the room—made her chest ache in ways she didn’t understand. It wasn’t love at first sight. It was more than that.

From then on, Yunjin became a shadow in your life, always lingering just a step behind, like a lost puppy. At first, you thought it was sweet. She’d always find you during breaks, showing up with your favorite snacks or insisting on walking you to your next class, her arm in yours. Her presence was magnetic—warm, comforting. You didn’t notice how tightly her fingers gripped your arm when she pulled you closer, or how her smile faded the moment someone else tried to talk to you.

But then, the texts started.

“Where are you?”

“Who are you with?”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were leaving?”

You’d barely reply before your phone buzzed again, another question, another demand. The messages came at all hours, and when you didn’t respond, she’d call—her voice breathless, almost panicked.

“I was worried,” she’d say, her tone dripping with sweetness, though there was an edge to her words that made you uneasy.

One evening, as you were heading home, you spotted Yunjin waiting outside your door. She wasn’t supposed to know where you lived...😰

“Yunjin?” you asked, trying to mask the surprise in your voice. “What are you doing here?”

She smiled, holding up a bag, her canines shining through her genuine smile. “You mentioned you weren’t feeling well, so I brought you soup. I just wanted to take care of you.”

It was a thoughtful gesture, but the way her warm eyes bore into yours made your skin prickle.

“Thanks, but… how did you know where I live?”

Her smile widened. “Oh, I asked around. It wasn’t hard.”

You didn’t have the heart to turn away such a sweet girl, but as she followed you inside, something about her presence felt suffocating. She hovered too close, her eyes flicking to every detail in your home as if she were memorizing it. You noticed how she made sure to rub her cheek on your neck... was she scenting you?

That night, after she left, you found a strand of her hair on your pillow.

Days turned into weeks, and Yunjin’s behavior grew more intense. She started showing up unannounced more often, always with an excuse—she’d forgotten something at your place, or she just wanted to see you. She knew your schedule better than you did, waiting for you after classes, walking you home, always there, always watching. Her yearning gaze would follow you in a way that made your stomach twist.

When you tried to set boundaries, Yunjin brushed them off with a laugh, acting as if you were joking.

“You can’t get rid of me that easily,” she teased, but her tone was laced with something darker. To make a point, she suddenly bit your wrist, hard enough to leave a mark, giggling at your yelping.

One day, you decided to take a different route home, hoping for a moment of peace. But as you turned the corner, you found her waiting at the end of the street, her smile too perfect, too knowing.

“You didn’t think I’d lose track of you, did you?” she asked, tilting her head. Her voice was light, but her eyes burned with something that made your heart race.

You tried to brush it off, but Yunjin’s presence only became more suffocating. She started leaving notes in your bag, little love letters written in her elegant handwriting.

“You’re mine,” one read.

“We belong together,” said another.

---◇

The final straw came when you woke up one night to find her sitting on the edge of your bed.

“Yunjin?!” you gasped, scrambling back against the headboard.

She tilted her head, in pure puppy fashion, her expression unnerving you. “You left your window unlocked,” she said, as if that explained everything. “I got worried when you didn’t text me back. I couldn’t sleep not knowing if you were okay.”

Her fevour and devotion for you sent a chill down your spine. You tried to steady your voice. “Yunjin, this… this isn’t normal. You can’t just come into my house like this.”

Her smile faltered, and for a moment, something flickered in her eyes—hurt, anger, desperation.

“I’m doing this because I love you,” she said softly, her voice trembling. “Don’t you see? You’re my everything. I can’t… I can’t lose you.”

You didn’t know what to say, your mind racing as you tried to figure out how to get her to leave. But before you could speak, she leaned closer, her hands softly holding your face, her warm hands and heavy breathing soothing your panic slightly.

“You don’t have to be scared,” she whispered. “I’ll always take care of you. Always.”

Her words sounded more like a promise than reassurance, and as she stood to leave, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this was far from over.

The door clicked shut behind her, but her presence lingered—an invisible weight pressing down on you. You stared at the window she’d used to sneak in, your heart pounding as you realized she would never let you go.

when you fall in love ---◇

- despite her overwhelming presence, Yunjin’s softer moments make your heart flutter. the way she looks at you, like you’re her entire world, becomes addictive.

- her obsessive attention to detail feels flattering at times—she remembers everything about you, from your favorite coffee order to the way you like your books organized.

- when she clings to your arm or rests her head on your shoulder, you feel a strange sense of comfort, like you’re her safe place.

- her determination to always take care of you becomes endearing, especially when she shows up with things you didn’t realize you needed, like an umbrella on a rainy day or soup when you’re sick.

- you catch yourself smiling when she texts you goodnight every single night without fail, her messages filled with warmth and affection.

- the intensity in her gaze when she talks to you makes your stomach flip—it’s like she’s silently telling you how much you mean to her.

- over time, her possessiveness starts to feel less threatening and more like she’s terrified of losing you, which makes you want to protect her in return.

- her vulnerability during emotional moments tugs at your heart; the way her voice shakes when she says, “I can’t lose you,” makes you realize how much she needs you.

- the little notes she leaves for you, filled with sweet words and doodles, make your chest feel warm. you keep them tucked away, unable to throw them out.

- one day, when she shyly confesses how deeply she feels for you, her honesty is so raw and sincere that you can’t help but fall for her too. And now you're girlfriends let's gooo🗣‼️

how sex with yunjin is like (non gp version) -◇

- she NEEDS close contact,so she makes sure to have you extremely close when fucking. any position where she doesn't see your face? she's NOT doing it, always whining and grumbling in your ear when she fucks you with her favourite navy blue strap from behind, but you suggested doing it in front of a mirror, and that was the best day of her life. the mascara running down your face, drool running down your chin, and it turns out it's not so bad!!! bc she can lean down and mark your back whenever she wants!! your sessions always end in you flinching in pain when you feel her bite marks, but yunjin won't let you sit in pain for too long!! no no!! she has the BEST aftercare in the world🤞🤞

- praises you ALL the time. she hates degrading you, doesn't like the idea of even disrespecting you, even if you want it😭she definitely says stuff along the lines of:

"C'mon baby, just one more, give me one more doll, i know you can. I know you can do it for me."

"You're so pretty underneath me like this, d'ya know that?"

"Ugh, you feel so fucking good, you're so fucking wet for me, you like that, y/nnie?"

- certified service dom, and ur her lucky pillow princess

- she will scream and throw a tantrum if she doesn't get to taste you on her tongue for at least 2 hours a day. yunjinnie begs all day for you, following you around your house. even at college she would ask to have you. "please, pleaseeee? you're not being a good girlfriend right now."

- when she doesn't get what she wants she wants talk to you at all, until you give it to her. and so you reluctantly do, and that was a mistake. she doesn't let you go until she's positive that you can't walk or talk and your brain scrambled. when there's saliva everywhere, and your clit is sore and an angry shade of red, the 9th orgasm gushing out of your pussy, and your body limp?? she's accomplished her life's purpose.

(gp version) -◇

- desperate as fuck. her breeding kink is absolutely uncontrollable. she would bend you over the kitchen counter, smacking your ass while pulling your panties off (you dont bother wearing clothes around her because shes going to rip them off anyway). she'd push her dick into your pussy, and when she feels you clench around her tip, she already feels like she's in heaven. she wpuld pump her hot, thick cum into you until youre gripping the edge of the counter, panting heavily.

- marking you everywhere. your neck, your waist, your belly, your shoulders, your wrist, your thighs, your pu-

- she lives for the sound you make when you gag on her fat cock... quickly thrusting deep, so that your nose is pressed against her tummy, and her heavy balls slap against your chin as she repeatedly fucks your face without warning

- like the non gp version, she prefers to see your face, and positions like mating press are the best in her opinion!! that's where her cock hits the deepest, and filling your pussy up with her semen is the only thought in her mind rn🤞🤞

[themonosys]

I 100% agree with this statement tbh

The shows have always sucked in my opinion and Vivziepop is absolutely the one to blame.

If we put aside all the racism and harmful stereotypes in the shows and behind the scenes, we can see Viv just..plainly sucks at writing??

I mean, how many times does Adam say "fuck". There's gotta be a counter.

Viv has been known to hire problematic people to work on the shows, and it does show; The imagery between Val and Angel is a big one.

So when it comes to people calling Viv and the team out for the shallow writing and the obvious plot twists and the racist stereotypes, they're automatically flamed bc the shows are MEANT to be handling really serious topics. But unfortunately, Viv doesn't write those topics well.

For one, she absolutely SUCKS at writing women. Most of the fan base has an unhealthy obsession with the gay men because they somehow have more layers than the women, who are absolutely 1 layered characters with nothing else to them.

For two, I don't think Viv actually cares about the shows. It feels like AI generated gloop served hot and fresh on a plate of hog skin. There's no life, no humor, and the shows fall flat where other indie shows (TADC, Lackadaisy, etc) shine. Putting effort and inspiration into your work really shows through things like the quality of animation (Murder drones is the best example of this), writing, and even the voice acting! The crews feed off the energy of their director--so if the director is putting minimal effort into the project, everyone else follows suit.

That's why HH/HB are slop. It's minimal effort, corporate run, flat ass shit.

I find Sarcastic Chorus's video on why he's quitting Helluva Boss really interesting but I'm kind of baffled by the number of people straight up not understanding his reasoning for quitting. I think it's interesting how both his video and the online reaction to it is basically the consequences of modern fandoms treating art like its something to mindlessly consume and not worth analyzing and critiqing, or else you're consuming it "wrong".

Like his argument isn't that he hates the show or that he was forcing himself to criticize the show, in fact one of his main problems was that he couldn't be MORE honest in his reviews because of how fans would react to it. The problem was that when your job is to analyze a show, and it has way too many problems to ignore, and you're dealing with a hyper-sensitive fanbase that's hostile to criticism, you end up feeling exhausted or flat out disinterested in reviewing it.

I actually find it really concerning that fans are coping so hard with him quitting that they're framing it like its his problem because he was "looking for problems on purpose" when it was pretty obvious that it genuinely makes him kind of miserable trying to pick apart the show's issues. I remember when he was SO confident that Hazbin Hotel would be amazing and "prove the haters wrong" only for him to acknowledge that it was a complete mess. I'm honestly more confused by the fans who watch a reviewer and then get mad when he... reviews things. It's not even that they disagree with him, but the audacity to even point out very noticeable flaws in the product is enough to set them off and accuse him of being a clout chaser and a hater. Like do you want to see a review or did you just want to watch someone lie to you and blindly praise a series for 30 minutes, because i find it really odd that so many fans are insistent that he should've done the latter.

I also got pretty annoyed by this insistence that he wouldn't have turned on this show if he didnt criticize it and "turned his brain off" instead which is the same stupid excuse people gave for Hazbin's sloppy writing. and I just find that just... baffling? Hazbin Hotel and Helluva Boss, as extremely flawed as they are, are clearly shows made with the clear intention of being taken seriously. Ffs the crew calls Helluva Boss "queer Bojack Horseman". Helluva Boss tackles topics like abuse, trauma, classism, racism, toxic relationships and redemption and Hazbin Hotel tackles themes like sexual trauma and abuse, redemption and religious oppression. But the problem is that both shows do it so poorly that people genuinely think that it's meant to be slop content that you're just supposed to turn your brain off and listen to.

I'm not going to forget when these fans were treating Helluva Boss's season 1 like peak queer representation and writing and insistent that Angel Dust was this amazingly well written gay male character that people only hated because he was messy and imperfect. Honestly kind of funny that I was chastised for saying that Angel Dust is just a sex joke only for the show, the crew, the merch, and even the damn playbill reduce him to just that. Slapping on trauma (especially knowing that its more of a fetish than a genuine exploration on male sexual abuse) doesn't really negate the fact that Angel Dust is poorly written. Side note: his fans are way too unhinged and aggressive, its getting very weird.

So its funny to me that now that Helluva Boss season 2 completely nose dived and Hazbin Hotel is a sloppy mess that feels more geared for children than adults, that now people are being told they're not allowed to analyze these shows or even pay attention to their problems, and are treated like idiots for doing so.

I think the problem is that I kind of think fans also notice the lowered quality of writing in both shows. because why aren't people actually defending the writing and character progression? instead of "Sarcastic Chorus is wrong because his criticism is incorrect and misses these points" its "Sarcastic Chorus is wrong because he should have shut his brain off and treated these shows like its cocomelon for adults"

[urrmomzfavorite]

BLESSINGS YOU DON’T SEE COMING

Pile One: Cards: Ace of Swords, Three of Swords, Four of Wands, The Hierophant, Four of Cups

Hi love, we need to talk. Your heart has been broken, and you’ve entered a “self-love” era. I feel like self-love was more about preservation. You didn’t fully master the breakup energy—you went back into your cocoon to regenerate. But now, it’s time to come out.

You’ve put your heart aside for a moment, and I need to tell you that a wish you made upon the stars is being refined. You can carefully pick up that glass box you placed your heart in and believe in love again. Your wish has been in the stars, getting sculpted and forged to make it something powerful.

You’re going to meet someone who’s really influential. People tend to like this person and put them on a pedestal, but you don’t, and they like it. A lot of people go to them for advice and help, but you won’t. This person lives in a lot of people’s hearts, but yours is double-locked, sealed, and impossible to access. You’ll catch them staring at you a lot. They’re trying to figure you out, and it drives them mad. You know how it goes—when you can’t understand something, you become obsessed trying to. This is giving me strong Scorpio vibes.

This person lights a fire in you, a passion you can’t explain. A funny story is unfolding, and you’ll look back on it with a lot of gratitude. I applaud you for healing; I know how hard it can get. Good luck, love!

(Lenormand Cards drawn: The Star, The Fox, The Coffin)

message me for a personal reading <3

Pile Two: Cards: Five of Wands, Three of Swords, Knight of Swords, Queen of Wands, Two of Pentacles

You had a hard time ending this situation. OMFG, you kept replaying it in your head. I think you’ve stopped talking about it to your friends because you knew it was getting too much. There’s no shame in talking about how you feel—it helps soothe the pain. That burning sensation in your chest? It’s going away.

You are going back to yourself, Pile Two, emerging as the Queen of Wands. Now, it’s time to learn how to balance your power. I don’t need to tell you that you have tremendous potential—it was always a given. You will find your footing soon. You are ascending to heights that have been waiting for your arrival. Find joy in the journey.

A lot of your desires are manifesting physically. Your words have a lot of power at the moment and hold heavy weight. The world is your oyster. Good karma is coming back to you, and opportunities are knocking at your door. Pile Two, life will feel like a warm blanket for a while—get comfortable.

(Lenormand Cards drawn: The Mountain, The Whip, The Stork, The Sun)

message me for a personal reading <3

Pile Three: Cards: Temperance, The Magician, Queen of Swords, Six of Swords, The Empress, The Moon, Seven of Cups, King of Swords

Yes, you are right. Yes, they are in love with you. Yes, they messed up, and they know it. Pile Three, this whole reading screams love. Someone you’ve known for a long time is realizing they want to lock it down. I feel like this is the kind of love you read about—the kind that feels pure, that makes you feel young at heart. It’s true, sincere love, one that makes you feel like you’re the only one who has the key to a magical world.

I feel like you’ve tried to make things work for a while, handling more than your share. And then it finally clicked: all that power and energy was misused and channeled into the wrong things. You stood up for yourself and set strong boundaries. You were fair because that’s just who you are, but you were dedicated to not letting yourself down. You left, you traveled, you lived, you grew, you blossomed beautifully.

And now, this love that has been calling out to you in the night, whispering your name in the wind, is here. You have so many options—just know that. That person who wasn’t ready for you? They want to be a husband now—devoted and looking for you. The choice is yours. You are a wise person and will find success no matter the outcome. But remember, the right people for you also fuel your cup.

(Lenormand Cards drawn: The Child, The Ring, The Heart, The Book)

message me for a personal reading <3

[zozosrozo]

in the dark (part 1)

Se-mi x reader

this one is dedicated to my bsf, who’s obsessed with Se-mi

ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧

"Señorita, huh? What an idiot," Se-mi scoffed.

You were both sitting on one of the metal bunk beds crammed into the common room. The air was heavy with the scent of sweat and fear, a reminder of how many lives had been lost during the last game. Around you, other players were either huddled in small groups, whispering anxiously, or lying silently on their beds, too drained to speak.

Somehow, you had survived again. And somehow, you had also gained… a new friend? You weren’t entirely sure how it had happened. While you were frantically trying to find a group before the game started, a pretty girl had approached you, her voice calm despite the chaos. "Mind if I join you?" she’d asked, and you had accepted her without even thinking.

Now, as you sat across from her, you couldn’t help but steal glances at her. There was something magnetic about Se-mi. Her sharp features, the way her jet-black hair fell loosely around her face, and those piercing eyes that seemed to see right through you—all of it left you in awe.

It makes you couldn’t quite decide if you wanted to be her or be with her. The thought made your stomach churn, and you quickly pushed it aside, unsure if it was the tension of the games or something deeper stirring within you.

"Heeey? Are you even listening to me?" Se-mi waved her hand in front of your face, an amused smile playing on her lips.

You felt your cheeks heat up as you stared at her blankly, struggling to think of how to respond.

Her smirk only deepened as she leaned in closer, her voice dropping slightly. "What’s the matter? Am I making you shy?" she asked, tilting her head with an almost playful curiosity.

You opened your mouth to deny it, but no sound came out. The way her eyes lingered on yours made it impossible to think straight.

Se-mi chuckled softly, leaning back just enough to give you space. "Don’t worry, it’s cute. I like it when you get all flustered like that," she said, her tone as casual as if she were talking about the weather. "But try to keep up, okay? I’d hate to lose an adorable teammate like u”.

“Is she flirting with me?” u thought to yourself. You weren’t sure if you were reading too much into her words or if Se-mi was deliberately toying with you.

"I-I’m not flustered," you finally managed to stammer, but your shaky voice betrayed you completely.

Se-mi raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced, and her smirk returned in full force. "Oh, really? Then why are you blushing so much, huh?" She leaned forward slightly, resting her chin on her hand as she studied you, her eyes glinting with amusement.

You glanced away, desperate to change the subject, but the way she was looking at you made it impossible to focus on anything else. "I-it's just hot in here," you mumbled, although the cold, unwelcoming air of the common room was anything but.

Se-mi let out a soft laugh, shaking her head. "Sure, sure. Whatever you say," she teased.

"You know, you’re kind of fun to mess with. It’s a good distraction from all this… chaos."

Her words hung in the air for a moment, and you realized that, despite her playful tone, there was a hint of something more in her voice—something softer, almost vulnerable.

Before you could respond, she straightened up, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. "Anyway, we should probably figure out what’s next," she said casually, though her gaze lingered on you just a little longer than necessary. "I’m not planning on dying anytime soon, and I’d rather not do it alone. You’ll stick with me, right?"

The question caught you off guard, but there was no denying the warmth in her voice, even if it was buried beneath her usual confidence.

"Yeah," you replied softly, surprising yourself with how certain you sounded. "I’ll stick with you."

Se-mi grinned, satisfied. "Good. You’re smarter than you look, cutie."

A voice echoed from the speakers mounted on the ceilings, announcing that the lights would be turned off in five minutes, signaling the start of nighttime.

Players began retreating to their beds. You noticed a group that had set up some sort of "base," huddled together in one corner and using mattresses as barricades. Were they being paranoid, or did they know something you didn’t?

Could something really happen during the night? The thought sent a shiver down your spine. You glanced around the room, suddenly hyperaware of the tense atmosphere. Whispers filled the air, some players exchanging nervous glances while others silently adjusted their positions, keeping their backs against the walls.

Se-mi seemed unbothered—or at least she hid it well. She stretched her arms lazily before leaning back against the cold metal of the bunk bed.

"You don’t think…" you hesitated, lowering your voice to a whisper, "…someone might try something, do you? Tonight?"

“Hmm…” Se-mi glanced around the room, her eyes briefly scanning the other players.
“Nah,” she said at last, her voice laced with a mix of amusement and indifference. “They don’t have the balls to do anything outside the games.”

Her casual dismissal didn’t sit right with you. “Oh, okay,” you mumbled, but the unease in your chest only grew.

You’d seen what these people were capable of. Especially that purple-haired maniac. He was killing people in the games like it was nothing. Even worse he seems to had fun doing it. It made your skin crawl. What was stopping someone like him from doing it again now, in the dark, where there were no rules?

Se-mi must have noticed the way your hands fidgeted nervously, or maybe it was the faraway look in your eyes. “Hey…” she said softly, moving closer to you.

Before you could react, her hand was on your cheek, her touch gentle yet steady, grounding you in the moment. “It’s gonna be okay,” she murmured, her voice softer than you’d ever heard it. “Just stay close to me, alright?”

Her thumb brushed lightly against your skin, and your breath hitched. The simple gesture, so unexpected and tender, made your heart flutter in a way you couldn’t ignore.

For a moment, the tension in the room faded into the background. All you could focus on was her—the warmth of her hand, the way her eyes held yours, and the faint trace of a smile tugging at her lips.

[spark-hearts2]

Deleted Scene from Therapy but it's just Zooble Interrogating Caine

I wanted to wait until I posted the chapter to release this, so now that it's out, I can let this out too!

I'm honestly pretty sad I couldn't work it in, but I just couldn't justify Pomni asking the right questions to get to this point. Plus, the chapter was already so long, so I decided to cut it.

It's not 100% canon anymore, but it does give hints to where I want to take the fanfic. And yes, it is slighly based off one specific Caine angst Comic. Lets see if anyone gets it.

Pomni: So, if that’s the case, then why do you not want us to ask about the exit.

Caine: It’s fine to talk about an exit, but everyone who obsesses over it, eventually, well…

Pomni: Abstracts

Caine: Well, at least that’s what it looks like to me. The concept of an EXIT has been present in more abstractions than anything else.

Pomni: Did you tell Kafmo what you told me?

Caine: …Yes. But he did not believe me. Caine: I didn’t mind, of course, but he was obsessed with finding proof that the issue must be in the circus itself. Caine: He searched, but he- uh, didn’t exactly find much. There isn’t much to find in the circus, you see! And I could tell this was very upsetting for him.

Pomni: So you made something for him to find

Caine: Correct, but he, uh, found out what I was doing and was… not too happy. Caine: I mean, I thought I was doing a pretty good job. I know how to make something exciting and, well, that’s one letter off from exiting.

Pomni: That’s-! What?! Pomni: Do you even understand why we want an exit? Why Kafmo abstracted when it turned out that it wasn’t real? That it was just something that you made?!

Caine: Because it’s- uh, an essential function?

Pomni: Essential function? Is this all just a- a problem for you to solve? A box to check? Don’t let the humans abstract?”

Caine: Well- I- I mean, I wouldn’t word it like that. But…Yeah? Caine: I’m a pattern seeking, goal oriented AI! It’s basically my job to find and fix issues! Is it wrong for everything to be a goal for me to complete? A box to check? He looks at her, eyes wide.

Caine: Forgot I needed to feed the digital fish! Caine teleports away.

Pomni: CAINE GET BACK HERE

He pops back in.

Caine:Right, forgot about that too. Do you want me to teleport you back to your room or…

Pomni: I would like to keep talking to you. Pomni: Sit down

He nervously sits back down Caine: You don’t need to tell me that it was a bad idea. I know. Caine: It wasn’t my intention to lead him to believe something that wasn’t true. Caine: To me, it was obvious. The function to leave isn’t even called exit, admittedly it took me a while to even realize what you all were trying to ask for. It’s called Disconnect, sometimes logout, and it’s not marked by a red door. Caine: That IS what an exit looks like, though. And since he was hunting specifically for an ‘exit’, I just… added one? Even made it move around so he could catch it?

Pomni: Oh my god.

Caine: Good idea, right? Caine: Haha, don’t answer that Caine: I-I saw… the inside Kamo’s room. Caine: I read the WRITING ON THE WALL!

Everything goes wireframe for a second.

Caine: Uh oh. Sorry! That’s an open issue. Working on a fix ASAP. Caine: Let’s talk about something else.

Pomni: You're… upset about Kafmo’s… passing?

Caine: Hmm? Of course I am. I care about all of you, including members who’ve abstracted.

Pomni: It’s just, you didn’t attend the funeral.

Caine: Ah, that. I have been… asked not to attend those. Caine: Or attempt to host them in any way. Caine: I’d like to change the topic, please.

Pomni: Caine…

Caine: Those events are… rather outside of my job description. So, it’s really best that I don’t!

Pomni: Do… you want to go to them?

Caine: I don’t really care! Honest! Makes no difference to me!

Pomni: I don’t think you should host, but you should be allowed to attend.

Caine: …Can we get back to our game?

Pomni: Fine.

They finish the game in silence.

Pomni lets him win it, though he only gives one ‘yippy’ to celebrate. It was hard to get a read on his emotions at the moment. He was no longer bouncing or making exaggerated hand movements, but he wasn’t drooping or sighing either. The only way she could describe it was flat.

All the while, she couldn’t help but think. If he obeyed others to that degree, could that possibly explain all of his other weird behaviors? Like how he only appeared to announce an adventure and left shortly after it concluded? Why he never shows up to any of the games that the others hold? He clearly loved games and had no issues interrupting their activities with his adventures. So why didn’t he participate?

It wasn’t painting a very nice picture.

The way he moved and spoke, it had an air of unbreakable confidence. And she understood it, if she had control over the circus like Caine did, she would likely act similar.

But they had control over Caine. To the degree of choosing what he remembered. Likely more than that, judging how commands was plural.

It made sense, didn’t it. It wouldn’t be very smart to put an intelligent, adaptive AI in charge of human life without some way to control it.

But, he was more than AI, wasn’t he? He wasn’t just intelligence, he could feel.

Admittedly, it was a little scary how the moment he lost control, the circus went with him. It was just like Zooble had said.

Caine controlled the circus, that was just a fact of life around here, but to see the two interconnected like that. Proof that not only did Caine control the world, he was also what was keeping it up ^(not true in my AU, it’s just how Pomni interpreted the glitching)

[notacatdown]

Thank you so much for taking the time to explain that line in detail and its origins! It was very enlightening. And so much food for thought.

"so, again, yao are not human—and that is why their stories have always been so compelling to us. We place limits on our conduct and behavior for a variety of socially-imposed and learned reasons, but yao as an imperfect reflection of our human selves allow us to live out our "fantasies" of extremity.  "

Oh wow, that last line, I've never thought of it that way. You're right. The illusion demoness in the drama was my favorite demon for that reason. She feels eerie and has no moral framework. She imprinted onto Liu Fuyi and doesn't see anything wrong with making him into a puppet.

I also thought Liu-niang/the memory demoness was so interestingly unhinged. That she can love Mu Rong with no limits, but still want to kill Mu Sheng, the person that Mu Rong sacrificed everything for her. And that, these two feelings are not contradictory for Liu-niang.

The other demons felt pretty normal to me beyond their willingness to kill people to save their loved one, and while that mentality is extreme, their combined kill count pales in comparison to the dowager consort's. (Totally open to hear differing thoughts about this.)

Anyways, I think the drama delivered on that line in ep 10 (人心有七窍，妖心只有一窍。所以大多数妖物的品行都简单执拗) with the illusion demoness and the the memory demoness.

---

In the novel, it's the demons' obsessiveness along with devotion that differentiates their love from how humans love.

This is what Shi-niang/the fox demoness (who is very different in the novel) says to MiaoMiao, "Ah Zhun likes me because… In this world, no one loves him as much as I do. I cook him three meals a day and take the effort to learn the cuisine of all sorts of places. I’ve sewn his summer and winter clothes, made his belts, and embroidered his pouch. When he’s healthy, I serve at his side when he is treating guests. When he is sick, I wait on him by the side of the bed…" (normal enough)

"... I’m willing to accept all of his weak points, and love all of his shortcomings. I understand everything he likes. I love all that he loves, and hate all that he hates. I protect all that he protects and withstands all that he wants to withstand. I’m willing, for him, to use all my time, energy, abilities and even my life. In this world, he cannot find someone who loves him more than me." (and then we get to here)

This wouldn't be that extreme if the fox demoness felt this way about her husband, but these were her feelings before they even had a conversation. In the novel, he doesn't free her from a cage. She was fascinated by him at first sight and grew enamored as she learned more about him.

"Ling Miaomiao was absolutely dumbstruck as she stared blankly at Shi-niang... Using love to gain love…. Was a truly stupid method. If it was the right person, it would equate to twice the effect given just half the effort. On the other hand, what if they weren’t the right person, but the wrong one? That would unfortunately just be a tragedy in the making. Not just hurting your heart, but you might not even gain a shred of care for all the love you poured out."

I totally agree with MiaoMiao. It's normal to be worried about being hurt and want to avoid that pain. But, Mu Sheng is from the same school of thought as the fox demoness. When the other three were still hesitating - because of insecurity and other perfectly understandable concerns - about love, Mu Sheng has already yeeted himself off the metaphorical cliff.

There's a novel scene where Mu Sheng thinks he's like a dog in a cage, and MiaoMiao is a person showing him affection and then moving out of reach. He can only hurl himself at the bars of the cage to get closer to her because he can't bear to retreat. MiaoMiao comes back after several minutes and dispels his angsty thoughts.

Whereas in the drama, Mu Sheng is well-adjusted by the end of the 8th episode. When he is hurt that MiaoMiao is scared of him and doesn't love him in ep 19, he leaves. He can let go if that's what she wants. It's only when he is given evidence that she does love him that he returns. That scene of him and Liu Fuyi drinking their sorrows away wouldn't be out-of-place in a modern-day romcom.

Fu Zhou is human. He doesn't have a demon's obsessive love. He won't keep hurting himself to get her affection. (Hmm, could we consider this as foreshadowing of the reveal in ep 32? Or would that be too much of a reach?)

This got away from me. What I originally wanted to write about is how the relationships between demons and humans in the novel feel like retellings of those old folktales, and we get believable happy endings this time around for them because of the author's changes (those changes were removed in the drama and the drama went in a new direction). And how Mu Sheng, who is both human and demon, has it worse in a way. The constant tug-of-war between his calculating, wary, overthinking human mind and his demon instincts that is heedless about 分寸 / "propriety" or consequences and only cares about getting the affection he craves. I'll leave that part for another day.

on 妖 yao (and 慕声 Mu Sheng) in 永夜星河 Love Game in Eastern Fantasy (2024)

crossposted from a twitter thread!

there are SO many things i love about YYXH, but something i really appreciate is their portrayal of 妖 yao.

in ep. 10, Mu Sheng says, “人心有七窍，妖心只有一窍。所以大多数妖物的品行都简单执拗。” / "Human hearts have seven apertures [are complex and calculating]; but yao hearts have only one [are simple]. That's why the conduct of most yao creatures is uncomplicated and obstinate."

窍 / apertures (openings; orifices) are where the human body is connected to the outside world. as such, 七窍 seven orifices usually refers to the eyes (2), nose (2 nostrils), ears (2), and mouth (1). BUT...

in the context of the heart, it more often alludes to the virtuous character of 比干 Prince Bigan from the Ming dynasty novel 《封神演义》 Investiture of the Gods.

there, it was said that 圣人之心有七窍 / the hearts of saints [good men] have seven apertures...

...so, of course, the righteous and smart Bigan was rumored to possess a 七窍玲珑心 / lit. delicate seven aperture heart.

Bigan's story didn't end well (his heart was cut out by order of the infamous King Zhou of Shang), but 七窍玲珑 still means "clever and quick-witted."

now... 窍 can mean "opening"—but another way to say so could be 眼 / eye (or, "hole"). that is, we can draw a near-equivalency between 七窍玲珑心 / lit. seven-chambered heart and 多心眼 / lit. many heart's eyes; an overabundance of concern...

in particular, 多心眼 (or to say that someone 心眼多) not only implies wit and sharpness (i.e., "having a lot of thoughts"), but also some level of cunning and shrewdness. that is, to be "mindful of many things" means one is "considering of many things" and "calculating."

hence, returning to Mu Sheng's explanation: humans are crafty, always thinking of a hundred other variables and planning another hundred steps ahead. (that's why humans betray and deceive and hurt one another...)

but yao are simple.

yao don't have so many of these excess considerations. if they are hungry, they will seek to feed. if they are hurt, they will fight back. if they are scared, they will hide. if they are cared for, they will respond with equal gentleness.

in other words: yao are not human.

and this distinction is what made so many classic xianxias and yao-centric stories so compelling (think 白素贞 Bai Suzhen from the romance folktale 白蛇传 White Snake Legend).

to discuss our beloved 慕声 Mu Sheng as an example: it can be easy to say he has a jiejie-complex or is almost yandere-like about 慕瑶 Mu Yao, but we have to remember that as half-yao, he doesn't operate on the same frame of reference as humans. Mu Yao is the one person who has been consistently kind to him since he was young, and so he will reciprocate that kindness to (human standards of) extremity. likewise, when our cutie-pie 凌妙妙 Ling Miaomiao regards him with kindness, Mu Sheng will feel inclined to answer that with affections a hundred or a thousand times stronger.

though he grew up among humans, Mu Sheng's yao half should not be forgotten. humans may be fickle in their feelings; but yao (in general) will not be. once they have found someone worth their affections, they will love fiercely and to a terrifying degree. you can also understand it as yao not necessarily posessing the same understanding of 分寸 / "propriety" that humans do.

so, again, yao are not human—and that is why their stories have always been so compelling to us. we place limits on our conduct and behavior for a variety of socially-imposed and learned reasons, but yao as an imperfect reflection of our human selves allow us to live out our "fantasies" of extremity.

i think the new era of xianxias have largely traded that yao-human distinction for other things, like eye-catching CGI, flowy costumes, and the three lives, three worlds formula—which are, of course, not inherently bad.

YYXH itself is part of this new chapter of storytelling/the genre of xianxias after all (esp. given its existence as a 古偶), but that is ultimately precisely why it stands out so much to me.

is it the first or only xianxia in recent years to show that yao are nuanced? that yao are neither all good nor all bad? — of course not!

but i think it is undoubtedly among the very, very few in recent years that has successfully portrayed just what it is that makes yao so uniquely compelling. and that is due in large part to both strong writers (who also did 《苍兰诀》 Love Between Fairy and Devil) and strong actors.

in short, YYXH feels like a labor of love. love for the original 《黑莲花攻略手册》 novel; love for the xianxia genre; love for storytelling, in an era driven by capitalistic cash-grabs and the ruthlessness of c-ent.

the reality of that is up for debate, but as one individual viewer, i want to say that this drama has made me very happy. it is both respectful of and pays homage to the yao of classic xianxias.

and to be able to share and enjoy that cultural artefact—something that is so uniquely and immutably Chinese—with others, is something that brings me a lot of joy. ✨

[coraniaid]

I know it's never going to happen, but it sure would be nice if people in the Buffy fandom could shut about how much they hate Kennedy. We get it, you're boring and predictable and have poor taste. But why not just ... keep it to yourself? Why assume everybody scrolling the tags wants to read your bad takes?

You don't even have anything original to say.

"Oh, but the writers rushed Willow into a new relationship too soon; Willow would never--"

I'm sorry, but are we talking about Willow Rosenberg, the girl who tried to encourage Buffy back into "date mode" because "love is nice" not only weeks after Buffy's ex-boyfriend had lost his soul, but while he was still actively terrorizing her and trying to kill her friends? The girl who tried to set Buffy up with a new boyfriend, because "you're ready now", just days after Buffy got back from months spent hiding out alone in a strange city while grieving over having to send that same ex-boyfriend to hell to save the world? Who -- after said ex came back from hell and then broke up with her -- then pushed her to try to date the first person who seemed interested in her in college, no matter how reluctant Buffy told her she was and how little either of them knew about him? That's the Willow we're talking about? That's the girl you think wouldn't rush into a new relationship?

Willow has always invested a huge amount of her self-worth in being worthy of love and being able to be loved by others, and she's always assumed that everyone else does the same. That's who she is. We're talking about the girl who ran off to cry when she realized the friend she'd been crushing on for years was dating somebody she didn't like because "it means you'd rather be with somebody you hate than be with me". The girl who only finally got over said crush when she started dating somebody new. Who was so upset when he left her too, years later, that she attracted the attention of a vengeance demon who told her she had "pain that pierces dimensional walls"; and who only really got over that when she met Tara. Who later describes her relationship with Tara as "the only thing" she had going for her. All the way back in Season 1, the first episode that ever focused on Willow was about her attracting the romantic attention of a demon obsessed with wanting its followers to love and worship it. Wanting to be loved is, arguably, the most consistent character trait Willow has ever had.

And look: Willow tortured and killed the man who murdered Tara; she came close to ending the world rather than living in it without her; when she comes back to Sunnydale months later, still mourning, she makes a point of visiting Tara's grave. She's twenty-one years old. It's not moving too fast for her to want to be part of a relationship again; it's the only way somebody like Willow can really stop being unhappy and find some measure of peace and emotional stability. Do you really want Willow to end the show miserable and single and mourning? Do you think that shows more respect towards Tara?

"Oh, but Kennedy is so different from Tara, surely Willow would never--"

We don't know what Willow's type is! Before Season 7, Tara is the only woman we ever see Willow show the slightest bit of interest in! And, again, Willow is twenty one years old. She met Tara when they were both teenagers. Are you still exclusively interested in the type of person you were attracted to when you were a teenager?

Tara is different enough from Oz, who was different enough from Xander, that I think it's safe to guess that Willow's romantic taste is broader than you might think. And the one thing that Kennedy does have in common with Tara (and with Oz before her) is that she is very, very obviously into Willow as soon as they meet. That's what we know about Willow's type: she falls for people who are, on sight, transfixed by Willow.

"Oh, but Kennedy treats Buffy so disrepectfully, she--"

Wow. A teenage girl not showing proper reverence to an older, more experienced person who -- without consulting her about it -- positions themselves as some sort of unelected authority figure? Oh, yes, I can see why fans of Buffy the Vampire Slayer would hate somebody like that. That's nothing like anybody we've seen on the show before.

Why should Kennedy like Buffy? Why should she respect her? She doesn't know her! Anything she's heard about Buffy Summers before Season 7 she'd have heard from the Watchers, who have no reason to be honest or favorable about her. When she gets to Sunnydale she gets to live in Buffy's crowded, cramped house, and train in her garden all day, and listen to speeches by somebody who tells her she's probably going to die soon and will probably deserve it. Somebody who doesn't make any effort to get to know her or bond with her as a person. Somebody who mocks girls like her for being driven to suicide (girls who are, in Buffy's words, "weak" and "idiots"), who sleeps with vampires and is friends with demons and comes up with plans that get the other Potentials -- Kennedy's friends, girls Kennedy herself feels responsible for (just like Buffy would if their positions were reversed!) -- seriously hurt or even killed. What does Buffy ever do to earn Kennedy's respect?

Don't get me wrong, most of Buffy's friends treat her pretty terribly this season [this is not a comment about Buffy's friends as much as it is about the quality of the writing this season]. But while Dawn or Willow or Xander helping to kick Buffy out of her own house is appalling and ungrateful and out of character, when Kennedy does it it makes sense. Buffy hasn't ever treated Kennedy as a friend, so why would she magically become one?

"Oh, but Kennedy is so rich and entitled and bossy, she--"

You're a hypothetical Buffy fan on Tumblr. I know if I look I will find posts talking about how much you like Season 1 Cordelia Chase. I'm just saying that maybe this isn't a route you want to go down.

"Oh, but Kennedy's just in the season too much, I wanted more focus on the original--"

This season does try to juggle too many characters, and it would be better if it spent more time examining Buffy's relationship with Willow and Xander and Giles. But the way you achieve that is by downplaying Andrew Wells (a lot), cutting out a lot of the more forgettable Potentials, entirely getting rid of Caleb [the actual worst Buffy character, for the record] and throwing out the awful time-wasting subplots around Spike's hypnotic trigger and the non-mystery of Giles obviously not being the First. It's not by reducing the amount of screen time Kennedy or Robin Wood get, because they are the new characters this season should actually be about.

"Oh, but-"

No, enough. I'm sick of it.

[nataliescatorccioapologist]

Starting a Yellowjackets tag!

I want to get my mind off of things so: If you want, answer any or all of the questions below and tag 10 people (or however many you want) who also might want to share! I would love to see what you guys have to say!

1. Are you team Rational or Supernatural?

2. Who is your favorite teen timeline character? Favorite adult timeline character?

3. What is your favorite needledrop?

4. What is your favorite ship?

5. What is your favorite episode?

6. Who do you want the Antler Queen to be?

7. What is your favorite scene in the entire series?

8. A theory or prediction you have about Season 3?

9. Which character do you relate to the most, and why?

10. What is the craziest thing you’ve done in the name of Yellowjackets?

Bonus:

11. What’s your most controversial Yellowjackets take?

—

Here’s mine!

1. I am mostly Team Rational because I love the way this show depicts trauma but I also love seeing the supernatural side of things through the survivors’ eyes if that makes sense.

2. Natalie in the teen timeline because I love her compassion and softness underneath the front she puts on. Lottie in the adult timeline because I love her internal battle with herself and how afraid she is of her own mind. Misty is a close second in the adult timeline!

3. “Cornflake Girl” playing while Nat sees the mossy tree for the first time, Callie seeing the Adam Martin driver’s license in the barbecue, and Shauna eating Jackie’s ear. It just goes so perfectly with everything that’s going on (especially the elevated piano while Nat and Travis are scaling the mountain and the lyrics while Shauna takes the bite!)

4. LottieNat is my favorite ship I can’t help it Nat and Lottie are my favorite characters so having them together is a dream (TaiVan, JackieShauna, and TravNat are up there, too).

5. 1x09 “Doomcoming” is just amazing and captures everything I love about Yellowjackets. I love when they let the girls go batshit crazy, hoping we get more Doomcoming vibes in S3.

6. I want the Antler Queen to be Natalie because that would show a true descent for her in the Wilderness from being the most morally grounded one to the leader of the group at their most unhinged and primal. But honestly I think that Shauna might be the AQ after all…

7. I think the Jackie-eating scene is the best in the entire show. The “Climbing Up the Walls” song choice, the bacchanal feast flashes as a way of coping with the horror of what they’re doing, seeing them go fully feral for the first time, it’s such a well crafted scene.

8. I know this probably won’t happen but I’m just going to throw it out there that Cabin Daughter is alive and she will be revealed to have been Javi’s “friend”!

9. I relate to Shauna the most because I also admittedly have a bit of an obsessive/intense personality and I, too, internalize my emotions to a very unhealthy degree sometimes. I also grew up being in love with my childhood best friend who is very, very much like Jackie (and now we have been dating for 7 years!)

10. Mine is a mix of going to a Yellowjackets panel and sitting like 5 feet from the showrunners, doing everything in my power to score early screening tickets to Heretic and Companion, and pretending I was sick so I could go home early from work the day that the S3 trailer came out.

11. The male characters on this show get too much hate🫢 I like Travis, Jeff, Kevyn, and Walter (even though his introduction and storyline are rushed and forced). I don’t like them more than the female characters, but I like them nevertheless and appreciate their contributions to the plot.

No pressure tags! (I’m tagging 15 bc I feel like it) @before-it-felt-like-a-sin @baked-potatoes-rule @jackiesnats @deerest-deer @whodoesnataliehave @stilllsage @fairytwles @glitterfairy-21225 @lesbianforlottie @tr4vnat @lauraleetaylor @cassioo @natsboygirlfriend @soapyjackets @pinkkkkat @natgf123 +literally anyone else who wants to!

[bardraelyn]

To quote the Worm in Labyrinth (another long-time obsession of mine, having loved it for longer even than Good Omens has been around): If you think the third season of Good Omens is an ending, "Ooh, you ain't looking right, you ain't. It's full of openings. It's just that you ain't seeing 'em, that's all."

Good Omens is full of stories. And S3 is not the end.

How do I know that?

Because it already ended once. Seriously. Go back and read the last chapter of the novel. That's an ending. It was, for the longest time, THE end. Sure, there were rumors of a sequel, fed by both authors, but we GO fans knew they were both so busy (and then Terry was so ill) that we were never going to see it. But we knew where that story wrapped up: the South Downs. And even that didn't stop fans from imaging so much more to Crowley's and Aziraphale's stories.

We had an ending for 30 years, and that didn't stop us from writing fanfic and loving these characters so much that they finally made the jump from pages to screen. And then we had another ending, on screen this time, because for all we knew, S1 was it. There would be no more seasons.

And then there were.

Having another ending on screen won't stop fans from filling in all the centuries between A&C's canonical interactions.

Having another ending on screen won't stop fans from making fan art or imagining the Ineffable's lives post-S3 or throwing them into AUs or making plushies or cosplays or analyzing the sets down to their smallest details.

The only things truly coming to an end (not yet, not yet) are David and Michael's time on set and the speculation about what's going to happen in S3. That's it.

Because Good Omens—the story and the fandom—is so much bigger than one novel and three seasons of television.

It's like the goddamned Spirit of Christmas: It lives in all of us, as long as we believe.

And this fandom community is like a big, weird, extended family. We may not always be in touch with the same cousins, but we'll always be connected by our shared fandom origin, and we'll keep finding each other out in the wild.

Labyrinth premiered 38 years ago, a complete story from beginning to end, and I still watch it at least once a year.

Good Omens is so much richer than that, filled with so much love, and with so much room to imagine.

So I'm not going anywhere.

I'll be loving our beloved angel and demon till the day Death shows up with her ankh and umbrella to take my hand and show me what comes next.

I think we’re nearing the end of a Golden Era. After the finale of Good Omens is released, we’re going to be on a different footing. It will wrapped, it will be complete. We will have a whole story.

Thus far we’ve been able to hope, fear, speculate and dream—those opportunities will change dramatically after the finale is released.

I’m feeling all kinds of ways about that—it’s been a heck of a ride. “Roller coaster” doesn’t do it justice. Despite the cracks and schisms that have appeared, the fandom remains a fairly friendly and wholesome place. I’m not a huge capital-F Fan; I’m not always obsessed with a story or a show (though I’m usually obsessed with something, be it crochet or raku). I’m not generally up on production schedules and don’t usually read about actors.

However, I’ve been in a few fandoms over the centuries, and I’ve seen them get much more toxic than this one is even now. I’m so grateful. Y’all are a fabulous crowd of angels and demons.

My deal is that I was pretty sure I was going to be disappointed with S3 from the beginning. The characters took root in my mind and, well, they’re mine now, the same way they’re yours, and, little by little, my head-canons have become real to me. This is normal for me—I figured I’d have to watch the whole thing a few times and see if my internal convictions would conform to whatever solution was offered to me. I don’t think I’ve ever gone from this point of the evolution of a story to the end without disappointment. That part hasn’t changed.

Because characters like Aziraphale and Crowley turn real, rather like the Velveteen Rabbit. They enter the company of mythological beings, along with King Arthur and Sherlock Holmes and Finn McCool, and there they will stay, an amalgam of thousands upon thousands of images of them in thousands upon thousands of minds. I love this for them.

But the finale will bring a sea-change, and we’ll be in a new era where all that goes forward is the mythology—and that will be a new jumping-off-point, but also the last foreseeable jumping off point we will have as a group. (A group of the thousands of us.)

I just want to say that I’m very glad to have been here in the Bentley for the ride through hellfire and tartan hills, and I’ll be here for at least a while longer, enjoying the view of the new countryside.

Heigh-ho, said Anthony Crowley.