#should definitely form opinions around that one

[rosiesdisneydrama]

I'll be honest, I don't know anything about borrowers or borrower aus, but your borrower Stan au is excellent. I especially love the version where Fiddleford is the one to find Stan. When does Fidds figure out Stan is Ford's twin? Is it instant, or does it slowly get revealed?

I'm personally a big fan of dramatic irony and (funny) miscommunication, so I'm just imagining Fidds not realizing they're related (and Stan avoiding mentioning any family, especially not his twin) so when Ford shows up, absolutely ecstatic at being able to study this new anomaly, everyone is caught completely off guard.

Thank you! I’m kinda glad so many people like the idea behind this little lark! (Even if I don’t plan on writing it out myself. I’m already juggling 2 other gf aus rn.) It’s nice to know that I’m not the only one who thinks they would be fun to read/mess around with.

Fidds definitely suspects that something is connecting Stan and Ford at the start just because the resemblance is too strong to be just from chance. I mean, they’re twins and the odds of some random stranger on the streets looking just like your roommate from college are pretty low in the first place. So he’s pretty sure the two are related in some way.

I’m also of the opinion that Fidds does know that Ford has two brothers and not just one.

Like, Ford and Stan spent the entirety of their childhoods and almost all of their teenage years together. I feel like there’s no way he could have completely omitted Stan’s existence from his roommate while cramming as many credits as possible into his college schedule. He may not have told Fidds that they were twins, but I don’t think he can have fully pretended that Stan never existed in the first place.

He may have been vague about the things from their childhood/teenage years but he didn’t try to wipe Stan from his own history.

Fidds might suspect that Stan is Ford’s missing brother but he would also believe they could be cousins instead. Until he gets some form of confirmation about it.

The most he’d probably be able to pry out of Stan before Ford shows up is that he was homeless/a drifter and that he (probably) didn’t think his family would have cared much about him maybe being missing. (Which makes Fidd’s heart go out to the poor guy because ouch man. That’s gotta sting…) Except for his Ma. She might file the missing person's report if Pa didn’t try to stop her.

And Stan wouldn’t suspect that the “Stanford” that Fidds was talking about might be his brother because, after all, the name isn’t that unusual. There are probably plenty of guys named Stanford out there. Just like there are plenty of guys named Stanley!

It’s not until his dorky brother practically breaks down the door in his excitement that he realizes he should have asked more questions about the anomaly guy.

And Ford is just blindsided.

[thouartachoochootrain]

Love when people say “be careful practicing kundalini yoga (or insert some mystic practice) it can fuck you up” and they mean it can like make your spirit go to the dark realm or invite depression demon fairies

But then people describe it and it’s like, Yeah I bet you do have to be careful breathing in such a way that induces stress responses comparable to suffocating and using that to hallucinate

The risk here is DEFINITELY spiritual and not oxygen deprivation

[tim-official]

the current trend of "tumblr users embarrassing themselves by proudly announcing why they don't listen to any music made by black people" is really astounding.

i cannot help but think this is a direct result of liberal White Guilt and how people have interpreted "anti-racism" as form of cultural self-segregation - the kind of person who thinks trying to cook chicken curry is cultural appropriation, or sends white people anon hate for wearing a kimono (yes, this kind of discourse happened). like, "oh, no, i could never participate in this culture, i'd get my evil white hands all over it! it would be more Progressive if I only did White things."

if you're a poc you've seen this, i'm sure - this deer-in-the-headlights stare you can get from white people when you play music / show art / share a story / anything that is Racially Coded, this total refusal to actually engage with it out of fear that it is in some way Wrong for them to have any opinion on it. because they read somewhere that it's bad to use AAVE but the only lesson they actually learned from that is "gotcha, white people are not allowed to interact with other cultures as punishment for my White Crimes. this helps to fill up the gaping pit of my white guilt and makes me one of the Good People." this transforms their discomfort around non-white cultures (black culture, especially, i should add) into a kind of virtue

anyway if you are white and reading this. go listen to some fucking haliu mergia. ethiopian jazz. will knock your dick right off. go listen to rap or reggae or bollywood and have a genuine reaction to it - like, an actual, from-the-heart reaction. you are allowed to not like some of it. but you will definitely like at least a little. yes, you can compare it to lemon demon (or whatever) if that helps you get into it and that's your only point of reference. maybe don't say that part out loud. but don't, like, separate yourself from it, like you are seeing it in a museum and the only polite thing to do is go "ahh, huh, very interesting, so much culture here."

[omega-e123]

Dude I’ve been having thots,, I must share them with you and get ur opinion or reaction especially since a lot of ur shadow smuts revolve around a certain hedgy having a breeding kink. Imagine if you’re on birth control tablets and he sees you taking them one day and you tell him what they’re for, I feel like he’d either get all grumpy and sad because oh boy does he have a massive breeding kink even if he knew rationally you probably were on some sort of contraception (that’s even if it could happen) or he’d get all gloomy n sad but would refuse to tell you because he thinks it’s silly and immature to feel that way especially if you’ve been together for a while, but I feel like he’d probably let it slip when you’re both getting freaky afterwards because it would mix in with his dirty talk about how hes gonna fuck the birth control out of you 💀

!! NSFW !!

This is in the time he’s not ready to be a father, but has the kink.

Shadow seems like the type of person to have discussed safety and methods prior along with whether or not if it’s even possible. He’s not going to take that risk, especially at your expense.

During the season, sometimes Shadow magically forgets. Absolutely fixated on you. Remembering causes him to get frustrated. The hell are you on pills for? You should be wanting a child just as mush as he does!

“Hmph. Do what you want. I won’t let something minor such as a pill get in my way. ”

Oh boy, if it moves on to sulking. The rush of emotions Shadow gets are definitely being internalized until it’s time to get down and dirty 100%. Like a balloon bursting as it slowly gets filled up with air. Those are rough sessions. Your poor legs won’t be working for a while.

Outside of rutting season, he rationally knows you’re on birth control pills. It still doesn’t lessen the embarrassment after Shadow’s hormones have calmed. His cheeks are going to match his gay highlights.

If the first time was spontaneous and he found out later down the line after multiple attempts, Shadow would absolutely be upset and annoyed. A pouty hedgehog is in your hands.

Grabbing you by the hips, Shadow leans in close. His breath tickling your lips, “You’re telling me all this effort attempting to put a baby in you was a waste of time?” A yelp is forced out of you when his hand slid down to firmly grab your ass. “Or perhaps, I need to try harder?”

Shadow struggling even more to keep his distance away from you, now knowing you’re on birth control. The pill is 99% effective and he is desperately trying to convince himself that 1% chance of it failing. Even then, that’s only if you’re taking them perfectly. Typical use is 91% effective. Odds are stacked against him, but Shadow is the ultimate life form goddamnit!

“Seven out of a hundred get pregnant on the pill… I’m determined to make you one of them.”

[sanguinesmi1e]

Pt. 1 Pt. 2 Pt. 3 (you're here)

Full fic on Ao3

Art of LBM

Pt. 4: An Unexp-ectoed Party (not on Ao3 yet)

Constantine was quietly freaking out. He couldn’t be sure, but he suspected that the ghost who had turned itself into a cute little tatzelwurm to avoid answering questions might be something far beyond his capabilities to deal with. Everything it said and did suggested it was way outside his scope of experience. While Tim used a shoelace to play with it like a rambunctious kitten, John mentally catalogued the things that threatened to give him a panic attack:

Before the ghost even arrived, the blinding power flowing through his spell array nearly knocked him flat. It had felt like being swatted in the eyeballs by an eldritch god.

The ghost appeared in human form, fully alive, before being transformed by the summoning magic. John had only ever heard whispers of legends about a being who could do such a thing. The legends were vague and grandiose, but some epithets included The One Who Walks Between, He Who Straddles Life and Death, Twilight Walker, Shroud Danger Child, and The Halver. 

The ghost could not only see his soul at a glance, it could perceive all the damage he had done making deals with demons.

The ghost implied it was on casual, friendly terms with the Ancient of Time aka Chronos, Kala, Father Time, etc. And that it had altered the timeline at least once already.

It could age. Despite what the ghost said, only Neverborn should be able to age. The dead were static, and given the death that he could feel sustaining the portal, this ghost had definitely died.

It was brilliant enough to pinpoint a weakness and successfully distract Tim by transforming into a shape that could manipulate his protective instincts. John did not want to admit that he also felt protective of the cute little blighter.

It had hopped out of the summoning circle as if it were just chalk scribbles, despite John working in some of his most powerful containment spells as a matter of what he had thought was excessive precaution.

Shite, the list had already reached seven items. The tatzelwurm (had Drake really just named the thing Little Baby Man?) glared at him and called him “Gross!” 

“Seriously!? This cloaking spell should be more than sufficient.” John grumbled. “Did it really have no effect?” If so, that was gonna be item number eight.

Little Baby Man tilted his head. “It worked.” Then he huffed with amusement. 

Thank fuck for small blessings. 

A quickly muttered spell turned his burning cigarette into a makeshift sort of laser pointer, and Constantine distracted Little Baby Man while he tried to think of what to do next.

“Hey kid, this is a problem.” He kept his voice low, and watched to see if the tatzelwurm appeared to pay any attention to him. It dedicated all its attention to the glowing dot, and ignored the two men.

“I assume this isn’t the normal direction your interrogations go.” Drake wound his shoelace around his hand and pocketed it. “It’s certainly a first for me.”

“Ditto, in so many ways.”

“Any idea what to do now?”

“We should probably return him where he came from, and wait for Zatanna to get back from wherever she’s disappeared to now.” John would really like a second opinion. He would also like to dump this mess in someone else’s lap and be on his way. 

Although to be fair, watching the tatzelwurm careen around after his lazer dot was actually pretty fun. Not that he’d ever admit it. Still, the creature was done answering questions and John wasn’t prepared to bind the thing because he didn’t think he’d need to pack the tools to bind an eldritch god when Batman called him to do a “quick consult.”

Danny couldn’t remember the last time he had this much fun. The CEO person played with him! He did feel a bit bad for hurting his foot, but it was difficult to dwell on regrets or worries when he could attack the string instead. And now there was a red dot to chase! It was very fast and sneaky, but he was faster and sneakier.

Is this what Paulina felt like when she wished herself to be a giant chibi version of herself to be loved and worshipped by everyone? Because he felt adorable. And fierce. He was going to kill that red dot so hard when he finally sunk his claws in it!

Frustratingly, it seemed to also have intangibility powers. Well, Danny knew what to do about that! He concentrated ectoplasm into his paw and bapped it down hard on the dot. This scorched the floor a bit, but when he lifted his paw, the red dot was skewered on one of his claws. It tried to tug away, but he clung tight. Apparently its size belied its strength, because it started to drag him across the floor. 

Danny tried to release the dot, but his claw was firmly snagged, so he resigned himself to being dragged back into the chalk circle. He tingled a bit as he crossed the perimeter, but it wasn’t a bad sensation, just a little odd. Then a portal opened up and pulled him through the water filled tube snake toy sensation in reverse and ugh! Just as bad the second time, if not worse.

The spell spat him out in human form under the Specter Speeder. Or rather, it ejected him at speed so he smacked into the bottom of the Speeder before falling back to the ground with a heavy thud. Thankfully he didn’t crack his head against the concrete, but he still couldn’t stifle a pained groan.

A firm hand wrapped around Danny’s ankle and dragged him out, and he found himself staring up at Drake and Constantine for the third time that day.

“Uh, hi,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I suppose I have some explaining to do.”

Being able to create ghost portals would come in real handy right about now. Maybe he should just commit some arson and let these two deal with escaping the basement on their own.

[writingwithcolor]

Non-offensive Historical terms for Black people in historical fiction

@pleasespellchimerical asked:

So writing historical fiction, with a white POV character. I'm not sure how to address race in the narration. I do have a Black main character, and I feel like it'd feel out of place to have the narrator refer to her as 'Black', that being a more modern term. Not sure how to do this without dipping into common historical terms that are considered racist today. Thoughts on how to handle this delicately, not pull readers out of the narrative? (fwiw, the POV character has a lot of respect for the Black character. The narration should show this)

There are non-offensive terms you can use, even in historical fiction. We can absolutely refer to Black people without slurs, and if slurs is all one can come up with, it’s time to go back to the drawing board. I cannot say which terms are best for your piece without knowing the time period, but hopefully the list below helps.

Historical terms to use for Black people (non-offensive)

African American documented as early as 1782 (documented in an ad in the Pennsylvania Journal). Note the identity isn’t accurate for non-American Black people.

African could refer to African people or “from 1722 as ‘of or pertaining to black Americans.’”

The place of origin could also be used. For example, “a Nigerian woman”

Africo-American documented as early as 1788.

People of Color documented as early as 1796 (with specific contexts, usually mixed people)

Afro American documented as early as 1817, 1831 (depending on source)

Black American documented as early as 1831 

Black was used in Old English to refer to dark-skinned people. Black was not capitalized until recent years, so “She was a young black woman.” would make sense to say, though “She was a young Black woman.” is the better standard today, although not universally adopted. I personally prefer it capitalized. 

Moor was used as early as the late 1400s for North African people, but had a somewhat flexible use where anyone visibly Black / Of African descent or the Afro Diaspora might be referred to or assumed as a Moor. Note, it has other meanings too, such as referring to Muslim people, but that doesn’t mean the person using it is going by the dictionary definition. Not really the way to go today, but okay in a historical setting (in my opinion).

Biracial (1860s), mixed race (1872), multiracial (1903) and multicultural (1940s) are also terms to refer to people of two or more races.

Occupation + description. Throughout history, many people have been referred to as their occupation. For example, the Carpenter, The Baker, the Blacksmith. Here’s an example of how you might go about using occupation and traits to identify a Black character in history. Here’s an example I came up with on the fly.

“You should go by Jerry’s. He’s the best blacksmith this town’s ever seen. Ya know, the real tall, dark-skinned, curly haired fellow. Family’s come here from Liberia.”

Offensive and less-sensitive terms for Black people 

Blacks was used in plural more, but this is generally offensive today (Even writing it gives me **Thee ick*)

Colored was mostly used post-civil war until the mid 20th century, when it became unacceptable. This is not to be conflated with the South African Coloured ethnic group.

Negro/Negroes were also used as early as the 1550s. Capitalization became common in the early 20th century. I'm sure you know it is offensive today, though, admittedly, was not generally seen as such until around the 1960s, when Black replaced it. It does have its contexts, such as the trope “The Magical Negro” but going around using the term or calling someone that today is a lot different. 

Mulatto referred to mixed people, generally Black and white, and is offensive today. 

The N-word, in all its forms, is explicitly a slur, and there is absolutely no need to use it, especially in a casual manner, in your story. We’ve written about handling the N-word and alluding to it “if need be” but there are other ways to show racism and tension without dropping the word willy-nilly.

Deciding what to use, a modern perspective

I’m in favor of authors relying on the less offensive, more acceptable terms. Particularly, authors outside of the race. Seldom use the offensive terms except from actual direct quotes.

You do not have to use those offensive terms or could at least avoid using them in excess. I know quite famous stories do, but that doesn’t mean we have to so eagerly go that route today. Honestly, from teachers to school, and fellow non-Black students, it’s the modern day glee that people seem to get when they “get a chance to say it” that makes it worse and also makes me not want to give people the chance. 

It goes back to historical accuracy only counting the most for an “authentic experience” when it means being able to use offensive terms or exclude BIPOC from stories. We’ve got to ask ourselves why we want to plaster certain words everywhere for the sake of accuracy when there are other just as accurate, acceptable words to use that hurt less people. 

Disclaimer: Opinions may vary on these matters. But just because someone from the group cosigns something by stating they’re not offended by it, doesn’t mean a whole lot of others are okay with it and their perspectives are now invalid! Also, of course, how one handles the use of these words as a Black person has a different connotation and freedom on how they use them.

~Mod Colette

The colonial context

Since no country was mentioned, I’m going to add a bit about the vocabulary surrounding Black people during slavery, especially in the Caribbean. Although, Colette adds, if your Black characters are slaves, this begs the question why we always gotta be slaves.

At the time, there were words used to describe people based on the percentage of Black blood they had. Those are words you may find during your searches but I advise you not to use them. As you will realize if you dive a bit into this system, it looks like a classifying table. At the time, people were trying to lighten their descent and those words were used for some as a sort of rank. Louisiana being French for a time, those expressions were also seen there until the end of the 19th century.

The fractions I use were the number of Black ancestors someone had to have to be called accordingly.

Short-list here :

½ : mûlatre or mulatto

¼ or ⅛ : quarteron or métis (depending on the island, I’m thinking about Saint-Domingue, Martinique and Guadeloupe)

1/16 : mamelouk

¾ : griffe or capre

⅞ : sacatra

In Saint-Domingue, it could go down to 1/64, where people were considered sang-mêlé (mixed blood for literal translation, but “HP and the Half-Blood Prince” is translated “HP et le Prince de Sang-Mêlé” in French, so I guess this is another translation possibility).

-Lydie

Use the 3rd person narrative to your advantage

If you are intent on illustrating historical changes in terminology consider something as simple as showing the contrast between using “black” for first person character narration, but “Black” for 3rd person narrator omniscient.

-Marika

Add a disclaimer

I liked how this was addressed in the new American Girl books it’s set in Harlem in the 1920’s and there’s a paragraph at the beginning that says “this book uses the common language of the time period and it’s not appropriate to use now”

-SK

More reading:

NYT: Use of ‘African-American’ Dates to Nation’s Early Days

The Etymology dictionary - great resource for historical fiction

Wikipedia: Person of Color

[skzhua]

episode 1.

MASTERLIST

pairing: XO, Kitty's Min Ho x Female reader

genre: Fluff, angst, exes-to-lovers, slow burn, coming-of-age.

word count: 5.5k (not proofread yet!)

warnings: Cursing, post-breakup feelings.

summary: the first day back, and you already find yourself into a whirlwind of emotions, mainly caused by one guy you had been dreading to see for weeks.

note: Bold - Korean, Italic - Over the phone

(let me know by filling the form in my bio if you want to be added to the taglist!)

The holiday season was, by far, the time of the year you were the happiest. The music, the activities, the food, the people you'd spend that time with... That was the problem this year.

Getting to know Min Ho's mother was a blessing in itself. She welcomed you in her home with open arms — although she wasn't home often — and was nothing but a sweetheart to you. While the first days you spent in L.A. were close to what some would call the dream, you didn't love it so much. The people, who were far too superficial to your liking, and the house — being seven times bigger than your place in Korea — were two factors that totally removed the holiday spirit.

The third one would be Min Ho.

"Are you here yet?" you heard from your phone.

Three weeks had gone by since the incident, which meant that school was starting again. In your opinion, the winter break should have lasted much longer than this. Not only because you were dreading the amount of schoolwork you would get, but also because you knew there would be faces you just weren't ready to see again.

"I just got in the taxi," you chuckled as an answer. "Did you save me a bed?"

"I did, but your room won't be with me and Juliana," Yuri informed you, a glint of guilt in her voice.

"Don't worry, as long as we have a dorm together."

You kept chatting for a bit until the car pulled in front of KISS. Your aunt turned around to face you from the driving seat, and you could see the worry on her face. While she had made sure to take care of you the best she could, you weren't doing any better. You knew she couldn't help but feel like it was her fault.

"Who was it?" she asked.

"Yuri."

"I'm glad she is around. At least, you'll have someone to lean on."

You scoffed. "I don't need a babysitter or a daily therapist."

"Just," she breathed out. "Try to enjoy yourself. Like before, don't hesitate to stop by my office if you need anything. Your uncle is also there if you-"

"Thanks," you said dryly, hurrying yourself to get out the car.

It felt both strange and familiar being back here. With a sigh, you gathered your luggage and began to head towards the entrance. It wasn't long until you were engulfed into a hug, one so warm that it wasn't hard to guess who it was.

"Get off," you whined jokingly.

"I didn't see you for a month, let me be clingy for a day, will you?" Q argued as he let go. "Did you get taller?"

You rolled your eyes. "A month isn't that long!"

"Can you just let me be sweet and tell you I missed you? Jeez, I forgot how grumpy you could be..."

You smacked his arm lightly, finally letting a laugh out. "Fine, I did miss you too."

"Knew it," he smiled satisfactorily. His eyes were quick to shift from you to something behind you — or rather someone. "Look who's back!"

Turning around, it took you a second to spot Kitty discuss with Professor Lee — now Principal Lee for obvious reasons — and Alex. Q didn't skip a beat in abandoning you to run towards Kitty. In his defence, he was most likely the one who was most excited to see Kitty when it was made known that Yuri brought her back to KISS. You wouldn't admit it out-loud but she truly was one of the few people you were looking forward to see again.

"Holy shit! There's my chaos queen!" Q almost screamed before hugging Kitty, definitely tighter than with you.

Kitty squealed as they reunited. "Dude, I'm so happy to see you!"

"Me too," he squealed back.

This was definitely a show for you to see as you slowly made your way to join the pair. Kitty finally saw you and hugged you just about the same, blabbering about how she couldn't believe she was back to see Q and you again. The excitement in her died down quickly, though, as she remembered she was next to Principal Lee.

"Also, so happy to share with you both how serious I'm going to take my classes this year at KISS."

You held back a giggle. "Right, yes!"

"That's literally what we've been saying this whole time," Q added, playing along.

A call interrupted Principal Lee's watch party which allowed both of your friends to squeal once more, much to your ears' demise.

"We have so much to talk-" Kitty began to say, only for Alex to cut the conversation short.

"Dad's been feeling a little bit stressed," he informed, something you found so odd to come out of his mouth. "I've been staying with him over the break. We're in, like, some hilarious buddy comedy."

As much as you appreciated Alex, you wanted nothing more but to be elsewhere at this exact moment. Not that you weren't glad he was getting to spend time with his father, but the way he was telling you about it was almost... cringe? (No, it definitely was.)

"Alex!" Principal Lee called out.

"Yeah, I'm coming! I'd better go," he said as he began to walk away. "Kitty, I'm really happy you're back."

Kitty responded with a warm smile. "Thanks. Me too."

Once Alex left, Q helped Kitty get her luggage while you tried to somehow make your two traveling bags work, stacking one on top of another.

"You okay there, Y/N?" Kitty laughed.

"Maybe I need a hand?" you smiled awkwardly, looking at Q specifically.

"Give me your bag already."

The three of you finally walked into the campus, as many other students did the same. The breath smelled like home, but the ambiance had a twinge of foreign energy. Maybe they changed the decoration. Maybe you had to get used to seeing younger new students everywhere. Maybe there was a little something you were still not ready to confront and being back didn't help...

"Crap, I wanted to ask Lee about that Simon guy from my mom's letter," Kitty said, disappointed a bit.

"You have all semester to find Simon," Q stated.

Kitty shook her head. "No, I am done wasting time. At home everyone was asking me questions. Lara Jean, Margot and even Peter because he practically lives at our house on school breaks."

And that was also what you did for an entire week of your school break. You won't do the same mistake again, that's for sure.

"They wanted to know what I learned about my mom," she continued. "How my Korean was... And I realized, I hadn't really learn anything about my mom. Like, not actually. And I almost flunked out. My Hangul sucks... So this semester, it's Kitty 2.0. I'm living in a single, I'm going to be single."

You really did forget how much of a yapper she was. It might be annoying at times but you were thankful she was there to fill in the lack of interaction on your part. For some reason, the ground was much more interesting, so were the trees. Since when were there that many trees on campus? Were they always there?

"I think it's kind of a shame to be swearing off love right after you discover you're bi," Q sighed.

"No, I didn't say I'd be a monk, okay?" Kitty defended. "I want to try dating girls."

Well, that was always an option for you to discover too, if some things were to happen. By things, you meant one, really.

"But maybe someone outside my direct friend group. Less potential for drama."

Sometimes, it is worth it to listen entirely to what Kitty had to say. Most of the time, her struggles didn't apply to you. On that case, however, this was a good plan: not date in your friend group. Easy, no? You won't do the mistake again.

"But," Q sighed again. "Can you really be over Yuri already? I mean, she got you back into KISS."

"Lara Jean convinced me to write a goodbye letter to Yuri," Kitty answered, as if she had been prepared for any scenario. You wished she could give you some of that energy. "Just like she did for all the boys she loved. And I brought that letter with me so I can reread it in case I find myself slipping into old habits. You know that you can write one for Florian, and you can write one for Min Ho."

You raised an eyebrow as to tell her you would never, but this was something to consider. At this point, if it wasn't obvious already, you were doing everything you could to forget about your ex-boyfriend.

Q, as for him, shook his head. "Actually, Florian made it really easy to get over him by being a lying, cheating dumbass that almost cost Dae his scholarship."

"You did the right thing, turning him in," Kitty said with an approving nod.

"I also didn't mean to trigger an investigation that caused a bunch of other students to be expelled too," Q said along with a chuckle to hide his discomfort. "I guess we're both chaos queens."

"Clearly, Y/N isn't."

You shot your head up at the mention of your name, looking at the two in confusion. "Sorry, what?"

"Are you alright? You've been awfully quiet," Kitty asked, concern in her voice.

"I-" you began only for Q to cut you off.

"Oh, look. There are the boys," he gestured right in front of you three. "Dae! Min Ho!"

The said-boys had just picked their coffee order as they spotted Q calling them out, spotting Kitty and you as well in the process. Suddenly, it felt like the entire world stopped, but not in a good way. For what felt like minutes, Min Ho and you held eye contact. You tried to decipher what his eyes were telling you; was he sad? Mad? Scared? You weren't sure. He had always been good at hiding how he was truly feeling. What you knew was that you certainly weren't feeling so good. Seeing him after things fell apart was like a knife stabbing you in an already opened wound. At the same time, your body was almost being pulled to his... You wondered if he was feeling the same.

You saw him gulp before he broke your staring session, pulling Dae away from your sight with him. It was a matter of seconds before you couldn't see either of them.

"That was weird, right?" Q said, confusion spread onto his face. "What was that about?"

"Oh, they probably just didn't see us," Kitty tried to shrug it off but Q didn't buy it.

"No, they definitely saw us."

"I'll go find my room," you muttered, wanting nothing but to leave.

"Yeah, I'll do the same! I'll see you at the assembly."

He gave you both a look but didn't insist on it. "All right," he sighed, giving you back your bag.

"Thank you," you smiled as you and Kitty change directions, now walking towards the girls dormitories.

"You saved me, there," Kitty thanked you.

"Saved us both, you mean," you corrected.

"Right, I keep forgetting. It's just, it was going so well between you two. It's still surreal to me that it didn't work out."

You scoffed. "Blame Min Ho for that."

"I just wish you didn't have to go through this alone."

"I'm fine, I promise," you lied, though she probably could tell you were hiding your pain.

"If you need anything, my door is always open! Speaking of..." she said as you arrived at her dorm.

As soon as she tapped her key card on the sensor, the door flew open, revealing Yuri in all of her glory. You quickly put two and two together, concluding this was also your dorm and that you would share it with Kitty, Yuri and Juliana. That's something you were comfortable with. As for Kitty, her face told you she didn't have the same thoughts as you.

"Kitty, I missed you so much!" Yuri exclaimed, hugging her tightly at the same time. "And Y/N!" she said, hugging you too. "You've been sobbing on your own for too long. I was starting to think you wouldn't show up."

You laughed slightly. "It's good to see you, Yuri."

She went for another hug with Kitty, who told her she missed her just the same while her face remained as shocked.

"I thought about you all break, and I was so excited you were coming back," Yuri said.

"Me too," Kitty answered. "And I only got to come back because of you."

"And now," she started, looking at the two of you. "We get to live together?" she said with amazement, earning a confused look frim Kitty.

"What? I signed up for a single. There must be a mistake."

"This is not a mistake. This is fate," Yuri affirmed with conviction.

"What's that about fate?" someone behind Yuri, who could only be Juliana, asked.

"Hey, Kitty. I'm Juliana. Oh, hey, Y/N'" she waved at you before focusing back on Kitty. "It's nice to finally met the girl that helped me and Yuri get back together."

Yuri agreed happily. "Can you believe this? The four of us are roomates? A dream come true. Especially with you," she nudged your arm. "It'll do you some good, I promise."

"Thanks, Yuri," you said gratefully. "Shall we come in?"

"Oh my, yes, of course!" Yuri exclaimed before making way for you and Kitty to come inside.

The dorm was slightly different than last year. While all the furniture looked rather similar, the arrangement of the rooms were different. There was a room with two beds, which was obviously taken by the couple given their clothes were already in the process of being transferred into the closets. The other room had a bunk bed and a single on on the other side of the room. With the number of students increasing each year, it made sense that the room had an additional resident.

As you settled slowly but surely, you all refrouped around the kitchen counter, taking the moment to, again, rejoice about your reunion.

"Wow! This... I didn't... Wow!" Kitty stammered and it took everything in you to not react to her clumsy behaviour

"I think Kitty's at a loss for words," Juliana chuckled and you allowed yourself to copy her.

"I had no idea you were staying on campus this semester," Kitty said to Yuri.

"Oh. Last-minute decision. I had to get out of my parents' place," she sighed, pouring herself some tea in the process. "Bad vibes there... They're getting divorced."

"What?" Kitty exclaimed.

You made your way around the kitchen counter, putting your hand on your friend's shoulder. "I'm so sorry! You should have told me, I would have been there for you."

She shrugged. "It's fine, you weren't exactly able to help be with it, anyway... Honestly, it should have happened years ago. Now, my mom's in Thailand, off the grid at some wellness center, rejuvenating."

There was a small knot forming in your guts as the guilt for not being as available as usual spread in you. Nonetheless, she did send a smirk your way as to show she wasn't that mad. A relief.

"But let's talk about how much fun we're gonna have living together! I can't wait for you three to get to know each other." she said enthusiastically before turning to her girlfriend.

Kitty's emotions were very clear in her face. Panic, discomfort, and hurt. To save her from making it even more obvious to the girls about her crush, you nudged her arm which seemed to bring her back from her headspace.

"Hello?" a voice called out at the entrance. Seconds later, a girl walked in, bringing with her a few suitcases. "Hi, I'm Stella. Stella Cho. Give me one second... This place is like twelve times bigger than my old school," she muttered as she caught her breath.

You exchanged looks with Kitty before focusing back on the girl.

"And, here is the last roomate," you greeted her kindly. "I'm Y/N. And this is Juliana, her girlfriend Yuri-"

"Wow," she breathed out, looking at the couple. "They let you guys live together?"

Yuri shook her head. "They don't know. If they did, they wouldn't let us live together."

"And there's a rumor going around that they're implementing room checks every single night, so we have to be extra careful," Juliana added.

"Well, my lips are sealed!"

"Oh, and I'm Kitty," your friend pitched in. "You can bunk with me and Y/N."

"Oh, cool! Um, can one of you show me how to get to the administration office? I still have to register‐"

"Yes, I can show you. Right now," Kitty offered, a bit too fast in your opinion. "If you don't sign up ASAP, you'll end up with the worst professors, so let's go."

"Wait, wait," Yuri stopped them."Before you go, we are planning a fun group barbecue dinner tonight, on me. Are you guys in? 7:00 p.m.?"

"Of course I'm in," you cheered.

Stella's eyes grew bigger, so did her smile. "Are you kidding? I would love that."

"Uh..." Kitty started and you knew it would be, yet, another poor attempt at excusing herself. "Dang. I wish I could, but I promised my sisters that I would FaceTime them and tell them about the first day back, so..."

Juliana's eyebrow went up. "Won't it be like 2:00 a.m. in Portland?"

Kitty smiled awkwardly. "Indeed, it will be. Yes. Good point. Well, I'm... I'm in. " She turned to Stella, pushing her towards the door. "Let's leave right now."

"They're in," Juliana repeated before walking up to the refrigerator.

Yuri gave you a look. "Is she okay?"

You shrugged. "Kitty? She's always like that."

"I guess I just forgot. She didn't exactly reach out to me during the break. Speaking of which, you also sort of disappeared after the break up."

Your shoulders dropped. "I don't want to get into it."

"You've been saying this for a month! I really think talking about what happened to a friend will help you deal with your emotions."

Something you noticed since the previous semester was that you struggled much more with opening up than you thought. With Min Ho, you started to think you could finally reveal yourself fully to people. However, he quickly made you move three steps back from the improvement you made. Especially in terms of your parents.

"He cheated?"

A small laugh left your lips. "He did not. He... He crashed out, basically."

"In English, please! I want to help too," Juliana joined in, already chewing her granola bar.

You took a deep breath before jumping into the story of how things unfolded. "The first two or three days were fine. I was mostly staying at the house, to be honest. Min Ho was out clubbing, that night. I didn't go, I was too tired. His mom had just left for some meeting and she still wasn't back. Anyway, when he got back, I don't know what took over him. He said some unclear stuff about me ruining everything." You stopped for a second to recollect your emotions as you felt the tears at the brim of your eyes. "He blamed me for his mom leaving him again. When I tried to resonate with him, he burst out by saying I couldn't understand him since I didn't have parents."

Yuri took your hand, rubbing the top of it with her thumb. "Y/N, I'm so sorry."

"I didn't even wait until morning to leave. I packed, booked a last-minute flight, and left." You paused. "What hurt the most is that he didn't even apologize. And he didn't try to stop me from leaving. It's like he had no remorse."

"It's Min Ho," Juliana said. "He has no consideration for people other than himself."

"I would argue with that," Yuri disagreed. "But yes, this was a dick move."

You could feel your breath get caught in your throat, which was a sign for you to stop talking about it. "Anyway, should we go to the assembly? We wouldn't want to be late."

And with that, you picked up your purse and headed straight out of the dorm, leaving the two girls with nothing but worry about you.

"Students, please take your seats so we can begin!" Principal Lim spoke up on stage, waiting a few seconds for students to quiet down. "Thank you. Students, faculty, and distinguished board of directors, welcome to spring semester at the Korean Independent School of Seoul..."

"How long is this going to last?" Juliana whined.

"Knowing him, hours probably," you answered only to be responded by a groan. "Complain all you want but I haven't seen the one person I'm avoiding, so I'm pretty glad we're in it for hours."

"You're unbelievable."

"I'd take this over facing Min Ho any day."

Yuri sent a look your way. "You do know you will have to face him one way or another, right?"

"And I'll do everything to push that moment as far as I can."

"Well..."

You knew that tone too well. "Yuri," you said in a warning voice.

"He'll be there tonight..."

"Yuri," you repeated, a bit louder this time.

"I didn't know he was that much of a jerk to you!"

You crossed your arms on your chest, not wanting to continue this conversation. It was evident that what happened would affect the friend group. You just didn't expect it to be so soon. And, of course, who were you to make your friends choose between Min Ho and you? After all, you hadn't reacted so well to Min Ho's outburst. As much as he insulted you, you had your fair share of names you called him: spoiled, entitled, narcissist, obnoxious, fake... You hadn't been much of an angel either.

"Moving on to point number four," Lee continued as you focused back on his announcement. "Nightly curfew checks for all dormitory students."

Your two friends grunted at the statement, rolling their eyes as well. Their annoyance did not last long as club music began to blast within the entire auditorium before the lights shut off. The doors suddenly flew open revealing Young Moon, also famously known as your ex-boyfriend's father. With back up dancers following him, he trotted all the way to the stage with a confidence that Min Ho definitely inherited. An entrance that was television worthy let's say.

"Are you ready, Korean Independent School of Seoul?"

Choreography, flashy smiles, interaction with the crowd... You were starting to wonder if you were at school or at a concert for a second. A few more dance moves, and the music finally died down, leaving a stressed Principal Lee on stage.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Mr. Moon spoke in the microphone. "It is time to shoot for the moon and..."

"Lang amongst the stars!" the majority of the students continued in shouts.

"You heard it here first," he kept talking. "Moon Management is launching a performing arts program that will make your school the envy of the entire world. And just maybe one of you will be my next superstar."

The crowd cheered once more. Meanwhile, to say you were thrilled would be a lie. Min Ho told you how his father really was. This, it was for show and show only. Looking around at the students who were screaming still, your heart stopped when you saw him again, leaning on a wall at the back of the room. His face had no expression, meaning he was deeply unimpressed with how his father was acting on the other side of the auditorium. He hadn't changed much, you noticed. His hair still fell perfectly on his face; his jawline was still sharper than a knife; his lips seemed even softer than you remembered it... You looked elsewhere before your body would do something out of your control, like walk up to him.

"I'm thinking this blazer," Kitty showed you.

"Cute," you smiled.

Stella, for her part, took a crocheted sweater out of her suitcase. "And I think this is cute, no?"

"With the dress, it's perfect," you approved but Stella could only frown.

"Are you not coming?"

You shrugged. "I don't know. It's been a pretty long day."

Your friend, stubborn like she is, shook her head in disapproval before pulling out a knitted cropped shirt with elongated black pants from the drawer you had previously filled that morning. "You're coming with us, and you're wearing this."

"I love you, and I like your enthusiasm, but no."

"Y/N, it's my second chance at studying here. If I can finally be with all my friends again on the first day, I want you there with me. It won't be the same otherwise."

Her little pouty face was enough for you to suck it up and agree to come along.

An hour later, and the five roommates were walking together to the barbecue restaurant that Yuri picked out. In the end, Kitty was right and taking some fresh air with your friends was probably what you needed. And so what if you met Min Ho? You could always ignore him.

"Kitty!"

All of your eyes turned to the voice and you found Dae. As sweet-looking as he is, he happily hugged Kitty before finally seeing you were there too, embracing you as well.

"It's so good to see you," Kitty exclaimed, all giddy and shit. "I'm so sorry we didn't get a chance to talk earlier."

"Right, speaking of which..." he started and then turned to you. "Can you do me a favor?"

"Me?" you asked, mostly surprised.

"I know I'm asking a lot of you, but can you talk to Min Ho?"

"Dae-"

"He's mad that his dad is here, but I feel like he's also upset about... you know. I think he wants to go over what happened with you, but he's not brave enough to do so. Besides, I feel like he is still upset because of me. I went a bit crazy accusing him and I hate thinking it might have ruined our, but also your relationship."

"You had nothing to do with it, I promise. And..." You stopped to glance at him for a moment. "I'll talk to him."

"Thank you," he said gratefully.

Him and Kitty didn't waste a second to leave you some space as they joined your other friends who were already chatting in front of the restaurant's door. You broke your focus on them to bring it to the back of Min Ho's head. Fiddling with your fingers, you hesitated. But then, you couldn't let Dae down. And maybe you couldn't let yourself get away from the opportunity to speak on the fact.

"Min Ho!"

As soon as he turned around, it was that same feeling you'd been having every time you saw his face today. As much as you wanted to hate him, you couldn't. Not only that, but his perfect features reminded of better days, something you were still secretly holding onto.

"Walk with me?"

As soon as the words left your mouth, a small smile appeared on his face. Silently, he left the others to join your side and you began to stroll around mindlessly. It reminded you a little too much of other nights like these. You hoped he could see how much energy you were putting into not accidentally grabbing his hand.

"I-" he tried to say but stopped himself. "When you left, there was this voice in my head telling me to go after you."

"But you didn't."

He let a breath out. "I didn't think you'd want to talk after-"

"I know," you exhaled. "But I wanted you to. And when you didn't even try to stop me, let alone apologize, it... It broke my heart ten times more."

"I don't want to hear it... How much I hurt you, I mean. I was an idiot, I was drunk, and I was mad at life."

"As you always are, just saying."

He rolled his eyes but you both found the humor in it as small smiles appeared on your faces. "I'm truly sorry about what I said. I did not mean any of it."

"And I'm sorry for accusing you of being things that you aren't. Clearly, I was mad at life too."

"You were mad at me," he corrected.

"That's what I'm saying, yeah."

A blush appeared on his cheeks. Oh, how much you missed having this much effect on him.

"I'm not saying I want this to-"

"Of course not-"

"I still think you're an ass."

"And I still think you're annoying."

"It was a way for the universe to tell us this was not worth it."

"Yeah, who were we to think it would work out in the first place?"

"We were idiots."

"Yeah."

A silence settled between the two of you. For a minute or so, neither looked at each other and you even thought he didn't allow himself to breathe so he wouldn't make a sound. Finally, you decided to speak up.

"But you did smile," you said in the smallest voice possible.

"I'm sorry?" he leaned down to hear you better.

"When I implied just now that you were my life, you smiled. So, why did you if you supposedly believe we were stupid to think we were a match?" you asked in a challenging voice.

You could see in his eyes that it awoke something in him, a playful side of him that you hadn't seen in what felt like years.

"That was a grimace, puppy."

You shut your eyes in annoyance. "Oh gosh, you're still as much of a dick as I remember."

He smirked. "You remember my dick, uh?"

"Moon Min Ho, I swear to God, I will-"

"Guys?" You fucking thanked Dae mentally. "Our table's ready." He looked between you two, unsure if your conversation had turned on the negative or positive side. "All good?"

"Yeah," Min Ho answered. "Just telling Y/N how happy I am I won't have to be her servant by making her coffee every morning again."

You shook your head in disapproval. "Hmm, and I was telling him how great it is to not be living with a control freak who protects his skin care products like it's his children."

Dae laughed, seeing it was pure harmless bickering. "I see."

He went in, and the two of you followed behind closely. Yuri made the reservation, meaning there was more than enough room to fit the entire group. You were about 10 people in total and, in all honesty, it felt great to not be alone for once. Sure, one of the people was your ex, but at least you cleared the air a bit. As you sat down, you introduced Stella to Min Ho, figuring she would appreciate not getting left out for being the new girl. The three of you chattered for a while and it was incredible to you how you were so at ease with Min Ho around compared to earlier that day.

Yuri then made a toast, stopping everyone from talking. "Thank you for coming, everyone. I hope you all had a great break. Mine was kind of a mixed bag, to be honest." All of your breaks were one hell of a ride, you thought. " But the thing that kept me going was knowing that, no matter how messed up my family is, and they can be very very messed up..." This earned a mutual chuckle. "They're not my only family. I made a little family of my own here last semester. So this dinner is really to say thank you to all of you here. Cheers!"

You collectively clang your glasses together, and it took you no time to dig in your plates. You hadn't had bibimbap in a while so you didn't stop yourself from stuffing your mouth.

"Want mine?" Min Ho offered, almost in a mocking way.

"You've seen me in worse states," you grumbled, food still in your mouth.

"No really," he insisted, putting the one he grabbed for himself in front of you. "Take it."

"Y/N?"

Your head shot from your phone to Stella. "Oh, hey Stella! What's up?"

"I noticed how you tried to make me feel included with introducing to people, like Min Ho. You two are friends, right?"

"More or less..." you answered carefully, unsure on where this was going.

She took a step closer, eyes on the floor. "Well, I think he's really cute, and we were talking a lot at dinner and... I think I'm gonna ask him out!"

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[shaunamilfman]

can't wait for love (to destroy us) [1]

pairing: Jackie Taylor x reader x Shauna Shipman summary: What should you do when you're stuck in the middle of a fight between your friends? Definitely not whatever you're doing. Maybe your friends are using you to make the other jealous. So what? note: MDNI. masterlist

You took another sip, cautiously slow–hoping that if you managed to keep your mouth full long enough, neither of them would ask you your opinion. You could tell they wanted to drag you in. Both glancing at you out of the corner of their eyes whenever they made a particularly good point. Jackie would roll her eyes, and Shauna would huff, but neither had called you out on it yet.

This strategy isn't going to work forever. Not because you've suddenly found the courage to end it, but because you're almost out of beer–a fact you're suddenly faced with as your next sip is met with only air. You peer down into the cup with a despondent expression, the few drops pooling around the bottom mocking your efforts to stay neutral. There was no escaping now, even as you tried to swirl the cup to get one last sip out of it. Shauna's quick to jump on your moment of weakness, eyes narrowing on the now-empty cup. 

“Right?” Shauna prompts, her voice expectant as she locks eyes with you in search of support. The words hang in the air like a demand, not a request.

Your eyes widen in panic, glancing back and forth between them for an escape route. The irritated look she was sending Jackie softened as she looked over at you, but you still feared having the full force of that glare turned on you. It’s obvious her frustration is only paused, ready to redirect towards you at any sign of weakness.

God knows you didn't have the same guaranteed protection from it that Jackie did. With Jackie? There’s history. Messy at times, but undeniably deep. You’re not so lucky.

“Uh…” You begin, feeling like you’re swallowing sand. Both sets of eyes burn into you, waiting. You try to find some neutral ground–something you can say that won't set the other off on you. The only thing worse than being stuck in the middle is choosing sides. You learned quickly that it was a fast track to both of them being pissed at you if you did anything other than placate them.

Jackie looks at you in concern as she takes in the sight of your fidgeting hands, twitching with the anxiety you’re trying so hard to hide. She reaches out and puts a hand on your wrist, a subtle comfort at your obvious distress. You'd think it was sweet if you hadn't caught the way her eyes flicked toward Shauna to see if she was watching first. The realization that it was as much for Shauna’s detriment as it was for your benefit was a bitter pill to swallow, but you find comfort in it anyhow.

You breathe out a sigh of relief, about to answer–something vague and noncommittal–before Shauna reaches out and grabs your other wrist. It was more an imitation of Jackie than any genuine desire to comfort you, as the firmness of the grip would tell you. An attempt to claim ownership over you, as if you were a prize to be won. You were embarrassingly flattered, no matter how much you told yourself to be upset. There’s something intoxicating about being the center of their attention, even if for the wrong reasons.

Jackie's mouth formed a disapproving frown at the action, her grip tightening subtly. Shauna, on the other hand, looked unfazed. She didn't even look directly at Jackie, giving you her full attention. Jackie's thumb rubbed gently against your wrist, trying to soothe you as you started looking visibly stressed. 

“So?” Shauna prompted, looking at you imploringly. 

You think suddenly of fogged windows, the heavy condensation from each ragged breath hiding you away from the outside world. You remember the way her nails dug into your shoulders and the sharp sting of them as she raked them across your skin. The way she straddled you, rocking the whole car with the force of her hips as she rode your fingers. She clung to you like you were the only thing grounding her in that moment. Her breath was always hot against your neck; quiet gasps let out against your ear as she buried her head in your shoulder. You can still feel her sharp teeth and the way she bit into your shoulder, marking you with a mouth that left bruises across your collar. 

A whiny “Don't rush her,” coming from Jackie's direction, pulls you out of your memories, forcing you to snap back to the present. She sounds defensive, just as much about protecting you as it is about staking her own claim. The memories fade from your mind as you turn toward Jackie. You pull your jacket–Shauna’s jacket–tighter around your shoulders like a shield, hoping it’ll somehow protect you from the ramifications of this conversation. Jackie’s eyes narrow in on the movement immediately, and Shauna looks immeasurably smug.

Shauna’s eyes are still on you, waiting for an answer to her unspoken question: Do you still belong to her? She wants to know if you’re still with her. As much as you try to focus on her, you find your thoughts betraying you once again.

Flashes of Jackie’s delicate fingers curling in your hair fill your mind, soft hands tugging with a desperation that inspires devotion. You can almost feel the way her thighs would clench around your head, a demand for more of your attention even as she struggled to voice it. Desperate little noises that always turn into something suspiciously like a whimper. The taste of her skin beneath your lips, the smell of her favorite perfume as you mouthed at her neck. A hand thumping against the bed as she tries to keep herself quiet, trembling with the effort of it, so embarrassed at the thought of being caught like that. The hickeys that get left politely beneath where your shirt would cover, hidden away like a secret. But when she was feeling particularly bold, she’d leave them atop already bruised skin, deepening the ones Shauna’s scattered across you.

“What do I think?” You ask slowly, hoping your voice isn't as shaky as it sounds in your head. You have their full attention now, you can tell. That's a rare thing: even when they're using you against each other, they're still paying more attention to each other. It's a heady feeling that you quickly put an end to as you continue. “I think I should get us more drinks.” 

And run away. 

Like an adult. 

…

You weren’t sure what had started the fight or if it even mattered at this point. The specifics had become irrelevant, as the back-and-forths spiraled it into something much more dramatic than whatever had started it.

It was probably Shauna’s fault, you were willing to guess–she had a knack for that sort of thing–but you didn’t know for certain. No matter what they said about each other, they weren’t willing to tell you what exactly they were arguing about. They always kept it vague, details kept between them and shared only through glares and pointed comments. You’d been through this enough times to know better than to pry, but this was starting to go on far too long.

It’s so damn frustrating, and yet completely expected at the same time.

It wasn’t presumptuous of you to say you were Jackie and Shauna’s closest friend. It is to say, Jackie-and-Shauna’s closest friend. The distinction wasn’t lost on you. You hold no delusions about even measuring up to the other–they’ve been a package deal just as far back as you can remember. But out of everyone else in the world, you can’t say they’ve even given anyone else the time of day. 

It was a point of pride, as silly as that sometimes makes you feel. But it means you often end up playing mediator. You couldn’t help but take some level of satisfaction in how much they leaned on you, how much they wanted you to be on their side. Maybe you could have even done a good job of it if you were ever given the chance. No, they were much more interested in fighting over you. Mostly just through you. 

Which brings you to–

“No, she wants to go to the mall with me on Saturday. She doesn’t even like that movie!” Jackie insists voice sharp with unearned conviction, as she tugs on your wrist to pull you closer to her. It’s an oddly possessive gesture, which isn’t lost on you. Neither is the way she’s looking at Shauna, as if daring her to contradict her.

“No,” Shauna says stiffly, her irritation obvious. She squares her shoulders, refusing to back down. She’s never seen a fight she isn’t determined to win. “We just watched the first one last month. Tell her.” Her voice drops a notch, low and insistent, as she turns the brunt of her attention on you. A demand for your loyalty that you reluctantly concede to.

Jackie looks over at you expectantly, her eyes wide and pleading. She nearly stomps her foot on the ground when you nod in confirmation, catching herself at the last moment. She groans, running her hand through her hair in frustration, the strands slipping easily through her fingers as she struggles to control her emotions. There’s a flash of hurt in her eyes, quickly hidden as she crosses her arms over his chest.

It twists something in your chest, an ache that you jump to soothe. “We can go earlier. The movie doesn’t start till 4, right?”

“We were going to rewatch the first one, remember?” Shauna’s voice was clipped, patience wearing thin. Great, now Shauna’s annoyed with you too. She crosses her arms, mirroring Jackie’s defensiveness.

“Sunday, then?” You offer desperately, your voice betraying your rising panic. Jackie looks between you and Shauna, frustration evident in the set of her jaw, before giving a reluctant nod. This clearly wasn’t how she was expecting this interaction to go.

You either, as you were desperately counting on this weekend to study for your exam on Monday. Looks like that plan was out the window as well. 

Shauna, on the other hand, seems to consider it for a moment. Weighing her options with narrowed eyes, comparing it to whatever invisible scoreboard she’s keeping in her mind. Though, now that you think about it. There might be an actual scoreboard in her journal. Eventually she gives a curt nod, but you can tell it isn’t over. It’s not a full victory this way.

“I forgot something in your car,” Jackie says suddenly, giving you an expectant look. Your eyes narrow in confusion.

“I didn’t drive here–”

“Now.” 

Well then.

…

Your car is parked in some forgotten corner of the parking garage nearest to your dorm. Still close enough that it was technically quicker to get to your car than your dorm, but not quick enough to justify Jackie choosing it when your roommate wasn't even home. You'd tried to point this out as Jackie dragged you by the hand across the garage, but she'd just given you that look–the shut up and just do what I say look. 

It was one of your favorites. 

It's quiet besides the occasional squeak of the seat beneath the two of you or the steps of those aimlessly walking to their car on the floor below yours. Jackie seems to notice neither, her voice half-whisper and half-complaint as she looms large above you. 

“She’s just so–” a kiss pressed against your jaw, “–so frustrating–” teeth nipping at your skin, lingering near your ear. You're not sure if Jackie's trying to make her point or just trying to make you lose focus. Knowing her, probably both. 

“She knows what she's doing,” Jackie continues, fully committed to her one-sided argument. Her hands grip your shoulders possessively, like Shauna might pop out of nowhere–the glove box, maybe–and take you right out from under her. Her eyes dart toward the front seat again, like she's genuinely checking. “That little look, like she thinks she's already won, and then–”

“Jackie,” You try again, breathless from the feeling of her lips against your skin. You tilt your head back, giving her more room to work with while also making sure you don't have to look her in the eyes as you continue. “She barely–”

“Don't,” Jackie starts, biting at your collarbone in retribution. It's not painful, God knows Shauna's bit you harder for lesser crimes, but it's enough to make your words falter and die in your throat. Exactly what Jackie wanted. “Take her side.” Her voice is low, dangerous, like she's taking this as a declaration of war. Only Jackie Taylor could be this damn dramatic. 

It's hard not to think of earlier, the study session in the library that never was. It was stupid of you to allow Shauna to convince you to go to the library closest to her and Jackie's dorm. There were plenty of other libraries on campus that wouldn’t have spelled your doom, but she’d even thrown in a “please?” on the phone as she asked. That should have been your first clue that she was up to no good. Shauna never said please, but that’s what made it impossible to say no to her.

You should've known that Jackie would find a way to tag along once she saw the two of you together on her way to the dining hall. Her bag had hit the ground with a surprisingly heavy thump as she stormed over–you hadn’t realized she’d even carried anything in that bag, always making you carry her textbooks for her. She’d sat down with a terse smile on her face, already looking like she was prepared for war.

Shauna had teased her all night, in that knowing way that only a best friend could. It drove Jackie up the wall even at the best of times, and tonight was no different. There you were again, stuck in the middle of it–quite literally, this time. The two of them had taken the seats on either side of you, both refusing to be the one sitting across from you at the small table in the corner of the library. They wouldn’t even speak to each other except through you, a fucked-up game of telephone that made you want to tear your hair out in frustration.

You thought Jackie was going to die on the spot as Shauna’s hand started creeping up your leg, only ever when Jackie was talking to you. It was subtle at first, enough that you hadn’t even noticed, but it quickly became obvious to both you and Jackie what she was doing. Jackie was visibly flustered by the whole thing, eyes narrowed and cheeks darkening as her eyes kept glancing down at your lap. Though, all the while, she refused to verbally acknowledge it. Her own little form of revenge, as the lack of acknowledgment frustrated Shauna enough that her fingers started to press almost painfully into your skin.

Then, as Shauna mentioned how much fun she had with you last weekend in your car, you thought you were going to die on the spot. That little grin on Shauna’s face as she said it, the way her lips curled up at the corners as Jackie bristled, would be enough to have you trying to drag her to the nearest exit at the best of times. Your pulse had raced at the reminder, cheeks flushing as you shifted inconspicuously in your chair. Jackie had not graciously accepted that defeat in any sense of the word. 

Then came the argument about your weekend plans, leaving you almost helpless as they volleyed arguments back and forth. You hadn’t planned on going home with Jackie today, but you certainly wouldn’t be making any complaints.

“She's just mad I'm winning,” Jackie says confidently, placing an almost apologetic kiss against the reddened flesh of your collarbone. She cups the side of your face, looking you directly in the eye as if daring you to disagree. You wouldn’t call what she did back there winning, but you certainly weren’t going to point that out. The intoxicating scent of her perfume in the cramped backseat of your car makes it hard to focus on anything else.

“You can't win an argument,” You point out with no real conviction. You can’t bring yourself to care, but you know Jackie’s expecting some sort of back and forth here. The quicker you can get the conversation over with, the quicker you can get beneath that skirt she's been teasing you with all day. 

“Maybe you can't,” Jackie says smugly.  “But I can. And I am.” 

You don't point out that it's probably less of her winning the argument and more of Shauna just getting so mad that she storms off. Shauna’s temper was nothing less than legendary, and you certainly wouldn’t want to be on the other side of her anger. Jackie never seems to mind, though.

“Sure, Jackie.” 

“Don't patronize me.” She taps her finger warningly against your forehead. 

“Wouldn't dream of it.” You lift your arms up in surrender, palms facing toward her. She traces a fingertip up your arm, entangling your fingers together as she brings your hands down between you. 

“But you dream of me, right?”

“Every night, and twice on Sundays.” You squeeze her hand lightly for emphasis. 

Jackie rolls her eyes pointedly but still looks embarrassingly pleased at the words. “Loser,” She mutters, taking your hand and starting to guide it up her shirt. 

“You know what's worse than being a loser?”

Jackie shakes her head wordlessly, muscles contracting beneath the cold touch of your fingers as you skim your hands up her sides, taking the hem of her shirt up with them. Her lips part like she's about to say something teasing, but she just lets out the slightest gasp as you graze her bra. 

“Letting a loser fuck you.” 

Jackie scoffs, but there's no real bite to it. “Shut up,” She mutters, cheeks flushed as she closes her eyes for a moment before looking back at you. 

Her skin prickles with goosebumps as she raises her arms over her head, shivering as the cold air brushes against her bare shoulders as you toss her shirt somewhere behind her. She shivers again as your eyes trail slowly across her chest, but the slight hitch in her breath tells you it’s not entirely from the cold this time. Jackie impatiently grabs your hands, bringing them back to her hips with a grumbled complaint.

“Hurry up,” She complains, moving to cover her chest with her hands only to roll her eyes as you quickly smack them away. Her bra was doing little to shield herself from your attention–thin, lacey, and utterly immodest. Did she wear it for you, or did she hope for Shauna to see it?

“Can’t you ever be patient?” You ask dryly, hands settling back on her waist as you press a kiss to the hollow of her throat.

“You’re so annoying,” She mumbles, hands sliding up to grip at your hair as you trail your way down the line of her throat. Jackie lets out a breathy little gasp as you slide your hand down her leg, fingers curling over the hem of her skirt as you start to push it upward.

You're startled apart by a sharp rapping of knuckles against the window. You tilt your head back to see a familiar flannel waiting just outside the door to your back seat. Jackie glares over your shoulder, her jaw stiff as she looks right on past you. You roll your eyes, leaning forward so that you can open the door behind you. Jackie lets out a sharp noise of protest but makes no other move to stop you as you unlock the door. 

“Can we help you?” Jackie asks irritatedly, not bothering to hide her mused hair and heavy breathing. You can feel Jackie shifting in your lap, just enough to be intentional at the sight of Shauna. Her chest rises and falls with each breath, a sight that catches both you and Shauna for a moment before Shauna shakes it off like nothing happened.

Shauna pulls the door open the rest of the way before you can, holding out your textbook lazily in one hand. She leans down, her expression perfectly neutral except for the glint of satisfaction in her eyes. If you didn't know her as well as you did, you'd probably have missed it. Jackie's huff tells you she caught it as well–though, was that ever truly in doubt? 

“You forgot this,” Shauna says, purposely letting her fingers brush against yours as you take it from her hands. She trails her fingers up your wrist for a moment, just long enough for Jackie to get a good hard look at it from her place in your lap, before stepping back. 

“Thanks,” You say stupidly, blindly dropping it into the front passenger seat. Out of sight, out of mind. 

Shauna grins. “Don't mention–” She trails off as Jackie shifts around, her hand resting on the back of your neck as she turns your attention back toward her. 

“... It.” Shauna finishes lamely. 

“She won't,” Jackie says, sickly sweet. “Close the door, would you?”

Shauna gapes wordlessly at the two of you for a moment before finally slamming the door shut with more force than necessary, shaking the car with the effort of it. The thud of the door reverberates through the car as the sound of Shauna’s footsteps almost stomp away. 

Jackie lets out a satisfied hum, momentarily enjoying the win before her grip tightens on your neck. She looks like she’s a split second from throwing both you and the book out of the car entirely, eyes narrowed as she stares at Shauna until she disappears from view.

“I can’t believe she would try something like that,” Jackie mutters.

Jackie makes the whole situation out to be a real hardship–like Shauna’s derailed her plans for the evening. Graciously, you choose not to point out that Jackie had started rocking her hips down against your thigh the second she caught a glimpse of Shauna, a whine leaving her lips at just the thought of Shauna watching her get off on your thigh. Interestingly, Shauna hadn’t called her out on it either.

A part of you wishes they would just hurry up and get over whatever they started arguing about in the first place, but an even larger part of you is content to let this continue. It’s not like sleeping with either of them is new, but the intensity they’ve been going at you the last few weeks is nothing short of life changing. If this is the way they want to work out their argument–competing for your attention in a way you probably shouldn’t be allowing–then that’s their business.

“Jackie, maybe we should–” 

“Come on,” She whines. Her eyes are blown wide as she looks at you, her expression caught somewhere between desperation and frustration. You do so love when she gets like this. “You said you were going to fuck me.”

The words are blunt, so much less subtle than Jackie's usual choice of cloying glances and teasing words. She only ever gets like this when Shauna is involved. It should make you jealous, should make you want to storm off in a huff, but all it really does is make your mind up for you. 

“Don't make me ask again,” She says, a command that almost borders on a plea. 

Jackie, as if sensing your resistance breaking, grabs your wrist firmly and guides it upward. Your breath catches in your throat as her skirt rides up, fabric pooling around your wrist and revealing more of her skin with every moment. As your knuckles brush against the smooth skin of her inner thighs, Jackie just sighs, her hand leaving yours to rest her arms on your shoulder as she widens her stance to accommodate your hand. 

“I knew you'd come around,” She whispers, voice low and smug. Jackie's trying to tease you, like she so often does, but the way her thighs tremble ever so slightly as you palm her betrays her attention. 

She whines, hips pressing forward instinctively into the touch as she digs her nails into your shoulders. She's so warm and wet, even through the thin fabric of her panties. The fabric clings to her, leaving little to the imagination. You almost want to tease her back, ask her what–or who's–gotten her so worked up, but the noise she lets out as you pull her panties off to the side is so pathetic you don't even bother. You press forward slowly, watching her expression closely as you work two fingers inside her. 

“Jackie,” You murmur, your free hand coming up to her waist to steady her as she rocks onto your hand. She’s trying to find her own rhythm, utterly desperate and only adding to her own frustration. Your grip on her hip becomes firmer as you guide her into something she can maintain, setting a pace that leaves her gasping.

“God,” Jackie says, almost reverent as her head falls against your shoulder to bury her face into your neck. She clutches at your back, trying to pull you closer just as much as she claws at anything she can reach. You can hear her hitched breaths and quiet gasps against your ear as she tries and fails to keep herself quiet, uncomfortably aware of the chance of discovery.

“Good?” You ask, already expecting the answer. You just like hearing her say it.

“Don’t sound so smug…” She mutters, the words trailing off into a moan as you curl your fingers, just the way she likes. 

“Fine,” Jackie gasps, her hand fisting in your shirt. “Good–so good.”

You shush her, pressing a kiss against the side of her head as she bites at your shoulder in retaliation. “You’re going to get us caught,” You chide, hiding a laugh at her frustrated protests.

“You asked me to–God, shut up.”

You do laugh this time, letting Jackie kiss you to shut you up. It's messy, a rushed attempt to keep you from drawing attention to her. Her lips part against yours, teeth clashing and so uncoordinated, but so fucking perfect. Your arm burns, wrist aching from the angle, but you can't bring yourself to pay it any mind as Jackie's whine is muffled against your lips every time you grind your palm up against her clit. Not with Jackie like this–not with the way her thighs tremble as she chases the friction of your palm. 

The car feels impossibly small with Jackie pressed so tightly against you, barely giving you enough room to move your hand as Jackie comes with a choked sob, hips stuttering and nails digging into whatever she can reach.

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC Hogwarts AU [pt. 2]

The second time they meet, Tim actually knows a little more than nothing about him.

He knows Daniel is Vladimir Masters godson, set to inherit the man's title, and he knows that his birth parents are both wizards, albeit eccentric ones. No one would tell him how they are eccentric, not to mention why.

He knows the boy is a second child among the three, and his older sister is going to Hogwarts next year while his younger one had just turned five. And Daniel himself is seven, just like Tim, which means they will be in the same year eventually. He doesn't know whether he likes that or not.

He doesn't know nearly enough about him to form an opinion.

What he does know, though, is that he absolutely doesn't like Samantha Manson.

Mother had met Mr. and Mrs. Manson at that same party that Daniel kind of ruined (Father's words, not his, Tim thinks that elephant trunks were an improvement), and, upon finding out that they have a daughter Tim's age, decided they should be friends. Which is how Tim found himself sitting in an offensively pink room on an uncomfortably soft pink couch that is threatening to swallow him whole, right across a girl in a pink dress and with a pink bow in her hair. Granted, they are all different shades of pink, but Tim still feels very out of place in his black pants and pale blue shirt with a tight collar.

However, the most unsettling part about all this is that Samantha hadn't said a single word in about ten minutes - so, since they were left alone in this horror of a room by their respective mothers - and Tim is fairly certain she hadn't blinked once, and she is glaring something awful at Tim. For all that he knows, she is probably coming up with a detailed plan of burying his dead body in the garden.

Tim honestly tried to start a conversation. Twice. The girl looked like she didn't even notice, so Tim just kind of resigned to his fate and decided to simply wait until this was over.

He really regrets not bringing a book with him.

Another few minutes pass in silence, interrupted only by some cheerful chirping of birds outside. And then, right as Tim starts to actually consider flopping down on the soft pillows behind him and falling asleep, he hears a knock.

Samantha turns her head to the window so quickly that Tim is afraid her neck will snap. But, as he follows her example and looks outside, he can't help but blink in surprise.

Daniel Fenton, wearing some kind of red jacket with a hood - definitely muggle by the looks of it - is hovering just outside the window. On a broom. They are seven, they are not supposed to have brooms yet! Or, at least, not the ones that can go all the way up to the window on the second floor!

"Bloody finally," Samantha rolls her eyes and jumps off her seat, nearly running towards the window, "What took you so long?" She demands an answer in a snappish tone that allows no excuses.

Daniel grins and shrugs, "Jazz almost caught me sneaking out," he explains, but his gaze is not on Samantha. Instead, he is looking over her shoulder, right at Tim, before asking, "Who's that?"

The girl turns around and scowls, "A boy that my Mum wants me to marry."

Tim sputters, feeling his cheeks heat up, but not out of embarrassment; it's mostly just frustration. She most definitely does not, they are seven, and their mothers can't be making plans like that!

Can they?..

Daniel laughs, bringing the broom closer to the window and setting one foot on the widowsill for balance.

"I would have invited you with us, but I only have one broom," he tells Tim, still smiling. Tim bites his lip.

He wants to go with them so badly. They look like whatever they are about to do is going to be way more interesting than Tim's whole life. But Mother will probably be upset, and-

"Don't bother, he is boring," Samantha huffs dismissively as she pulls the skirt of her dress up and climbs out the window, carefully holding on to Daniel's shoulder as she gets on the broom behind him.

For some reason, that makes Tim angry.

He sticks his chin up higher, straightening up in his seat and frowning. "I don't see how your inevitable fall from a broom is interesting anyway," he drawls, far more mean and uncaring than he wanted to.

"See? Boring," Samantha smirks, but Daniel just looks a bit confused and thrown off.

"I'm not gonna fall," he tells Tim with a certainty that makes Tim kind of want to apologize. But the girl behind him is still smiling like she won something, and Tim is not about to back down now.

"Live with that illusion all you want," he huffs and turns away, still keeping his back straight.

"Come on, Danny, let's go," Samantha urges her friend impatiently, and Tim is decidedly not looking in that direction. He doesn't want either of them to see him pouting. Also, maybe he just doesn't want to see them fly away.

But he still hears a quiet "Bye," from the window before the room goes back to silence, interrupted only by the chirping birds and rustling leaves.

When, mere moments later, Tim looks back to the window, both of them are gone without a trace.

—☆—☆—☆—

Visuals!

The offensively pink room and the way to escape:

Tim's opinion on Sam:

[Picrew]

—☆—☆—☆—

More notes on the people and the world around:

Mansons are, actually, filthy rich. They are a wizarding family, but they are way less concerned about blood purity than people expect them to be. A part of their business involves muggle products, and while they don't advertise it, they don't try to hide it either. Jeremy never attended Hogwarts, he was a Beuxbatons student, and Pamela was a Slytherin. Both of them don't exactly like Danny for separate reasons, but Pam likes to keep Vlad as a friend, and if that means letting Sam be friends with his godson, then so be it. She still tries to keep their contact to a minimum, but it's not like Danny - or Sam, for that matter - cares.

Janet and Pamela did not, in fact, plan to marry their kids; they just liked each other enough to have tea together and decided to combine it with throwing their children at each other. Although Pam does consider Tim a fitting pair for her daughter. Janet is of a different opinion.

The broom Danny took actually belongs to Jack - or, it belonged to him a few years ago, up until Danny realized the kiddie broom is not fun anymore. Jazz is constantly scared he is going to fall and break his neck, but Maddie thinks her son is good enough of a flyer. Besides, even if they did take the broom from Danny, he would just find a different thing to break his neck with, so Maddie just put a bunch of disillusionment charms on the poor broom so Danny won't be noticed by muggles and called it a day.

This is very much not the first time Danny comes to save Sam like she's a maiden in a tower. Also, Sam is not mean out of nowhere, she just likes Danny and hates sharing, and she is seven.

[<- part 1 | part 3 ->]

[sakurapandadreams]

PLACEMENTS THAT EASILY MAKE FRIENDS

Please take all of these predictions with a grain of salt I'm not a professional astrologer.

FOR ASTRO POSTS HERE IS MY MASTERLIST

If you have any questions here are the GUIDELINES

This post consists of placements that if one has in their chart finds it easier to socialize or understand the social dynamics better in a external settings.

One also needs to take the entire chart into consideration.

🎞 Venus in the 1st house

Natives with this placement are very diplomatic, sweet kind and easy to approach. Quite helpful in nature if their close to you, and even if their not they still very amicable. They almost never break friendships from their side. These individuals have the emotional intelligence to understand how to handle people. Hence they may find it easy to form friendships.

🎞 Gemini Moon

Extremely understanding people. Sure they have their own mood swings and their ups and downs but who doesn't ?. Inspite all odds they never give up in their friendships. Most have an idea that it takes time for a friendships to build and they give that time to their close ones. [To all the people who have a Gemini Moon friend please cherish them]

🎞 Libra Moon

One of their most admirable trait is what helps them form so many friendships and even relationships which they eventually benefit from is the fact they give a very highly thoughtful advice and again know how to make people comfortable around them. They have a decent idea when you need to say what. Won't say a thing if they know it will be a waste.

🎞 Venus in the 10th house

These people are so kind like genuinely their really good at their job [provided they love what their doing] yet so humble. Most I know are very popular atleast in their own groups yet they make sure everyone around them also equally feels like the main character of their own lives [which everyone should].

🎞 Mercury At 29⁰

Such natives are quite popular due to their talkative nature. Most love to talk to people very social. If it's in a 🔥/💧sign then it's a bonus these people are easy to talk to or approach. Also these people don't think before talking lol I love it tho. But yes these people are also good at saying understanding things at the right time.

🎞 Mercury Atmakaraka

These individuals have a way with their words and also have wide variety of topics to talk about. These people always keep a smooth flow of conversations. Have a great sense of humor too. Basically their fun people to talk to so who wouldn't wanna be friends with them

🎞 Jupiter Atmakaraka

Individuals with this placement have a very bright personality and extensive knowledge. Each time you talk to them you learn something new. Brilliant at giving advices too. People may like to talk to them because of their optimistic nature, seeing how they never lose hope is admirable.

🎞 Sun Atmakaraka

The Sun shines the Brightest hence these people are quite popular and leadership comes naturally to these natives. Even if their introverted they may have such a personality which draws people to them. [If you say buddy there's no one who's drawn to me] You guys are also quite intimidating hence there are people who want to be friends with you, it's just you guys need to be a bit more open that's all.

🎞 Venus in Aquarius

These natives are the type of people who are very popular and friends with many people. If their not an extrovert their definitely an ambivert. But what's best about them is how open minded they are let's say they like something which you don't these people don't dismiss other people's opinion.

🎞 3rd house ruler in the 7th or 11th house

Again these people are talkative and their laughter is contagious. Their outgoing people who know how to take jokes. These people also love to talk information. Basically at times they can surprise people with the information they hold. [Not me I know yall 😏😌]. Can have or be a part of big groups. Or have connections with important people YES which means your equally important.

ALSO A VERY HAPPY NAVRATRI EVERYONE 🥳🙏

Credits for the images and dividers goes to the rightful owners

Copyright © 2024 sakurapandadreams | All rights reserved.

[13uswntimagines]

Safe Harbor II (Alessia Russo X Singer!R)

Request: R and Alessia go to an award show, and just how they handle the whole public outing

Warnings: There are definitely some D/s undertones (and overtones) in this fic. The use of Daddy. Light Smut- not super descriptive, but it's there.

Author's note: This universe is super fun, and I'm going to keep writing in it. Let me know what you'd like to see. I really wanted to explore the difference between when r is submitting and when she isn't because I think the dynamic is fun. There are also a bunch of references to Sunset Boulevard because I love the musical and I think some of the things are fitting.

You sighed, fidgeting with the bow tie that defiantly remained crooked no matter how many times you tugged at it, trying to ignore the city lights glittering off the mirror that took up the entire wall. 

It was gaudy, and unnecessarily flashy in your opinion. Something you would never want in your own home, despite how… useful your stylist claimed it was. You supposed it did have its place, here in the world you did your best to avoid. 

The one you only tolerated because it let you do the thing you loved. 

The one the character you play was far more…comfortable in. 

You blew out another breath, undoing the silky material around your neck and letting it hang over limply across your shoulders. 

It wasn’t that you were… ungrateful. 

You were not. 

You understood how lucky you were. You appreciated the fans more than you could put into words. 

You just didn’t appreciate being paraded around like a circus animal for everyone’s enjoyment. Or an exotic creature to be gawked at. 

It felt like they owned you most of the time now. Like you were just a marionette dancing at the behest of someone else. Your life had turned into a performance. 

That’s pretty much all award shows were. 

Behind the glamorous veneer, they were filled with hollow conversations and forced smiles. While some genuine people like Taylor and Kelsea attended, there was a reason it was called a snake pit. 

It was why you detested them so much, and why you did your best to get out of them. 

Your manager, Pepper, had been very clear though. There was no getting out of this one. Not when you would be the first-ever recipient of the American Music Awards Horizons Award. 

“Let me,”

You blinked at the voice that appeared behind you, and the hands that landed heavy on your shoulders. They relaxed instantly under her touch. 

You hadn’t realized you were staring at yourself in the mirror. 

You dragged your eyes away from the polished version of your form to meet Alessia’s in the mirror. 

There was understanding in the depth of her blue. They made you feel naked, despite the dark blue shirt and silver vest that clung to you. 

She saw beneath the glossy shell of your character. She always had, and you had faith that she always would. 

She tugged gently on the silvery tie laying across your shoulders, the ring that perfectly matched it glinting off of the sharp hotel lights. 

You frowned at the ring, large and gaudy with a rock that sent flashes of light across the room with every movement of her hand. It was not the thin silver band you had slipped on after she said yes. 

You supposed you should be happy that she would keep the real one private between the two of you. Something the fans couldn’t have. 

Still. 

You let out another breath as the tie slid from your skin, and she used gentle pressure to turn you to face her. 

“You’re overthinking this,” She said when your eyes met hers again, as she used a finger to tilt your chin up. 

You hummed at the feeling of her hands brushing your neck in familiar movements, and the careful pressure of the tie. 

You didn't have to voice your thoughts for her to understand, not that you could form coherent words at this moment. 

It was always a… weird headspace for you, the space in between who you were, and who the world expected you to be.

What was making it harder tonight was that it would be the first time Alessia walked with you down the red carpet. Your stylist even had you in matching outfits, as if your arm around her wasn’t enough of an indicator that you were together. 

The whole thing made it nearly impossible to separate the different parts of yourself. 

“Take a deep breath for me,” Alessia said calmly, tightening the silky material around your neck, her gaze never wavering. 

She took an exaggerated inhale, and you did your best to mimic her, your pulse slowing automatically, the gentle lingering of her hands in your skin grounding you with her. 

“You’re not usually this wound for things like this,” She said, her voice soft, curious, but unwilling to push you like she normally would. 

“Sorry,” You mumbled, gaining strength from her steady hands. “I’m just. Sometimes I feel like I’m a piece in someone else’s game. It’s like they own me. I don’t want them to own you too, even though I know your fans are nearly as bad.” 

You could already see the tweets now, talking about the stunning blue dress she was in, and how it perfectly coordinated with the dark blue lapels of your suit jacket. 

They would dissect every interaction between the two of you, from how your hand rested on her waist to every look the two of you shared. 

Alessia’s eyes softened, as she finished the knot of your tie, tightening it just enough so you could feel it, but not enough that it cut off your air. 

It was comforting in a… strange way. Grounding like the collar you wore when the two of you were alone, or the bracelet that was always a part of your wardrobe, no matter how poorly it matched your outfit. 

“I know,” She said finally, and there was something more intimate in the words than the flashy hotel room deserved. Something deep, that belonged only to the two of you. “But they can’t own what they don’t understand,”

Her hands left the tie, moving up to cup your cheeks gently, carefully of the makeup your artist, Pamela, had all but forced on you. “They can’t own what they can’t see,” 

You made a low sound at the implication. 

It was why she was wearing a giant rock on her finger instead of the band you had gotten her. 

They could have that part of her and you, but they couldn’t have this one. 

“They don’t get to own who we are.” Alessia finished, leaning in and placing a very gentle kiss on your lips. “Remind me who you are,” 

You blinked at the feeling of her breath on your lips. 

“I’m Y/n Y/l/n,”

She hummed, kissing you again. “But who are you?”

A shiver ran down your spine at the order. At the reminder of the parts of yourself that she always held like they were precious and fragile. The parts she was fiercely protective of. 

Because even if this… facade belonged to your fans, the parts that really mattered were hers. 

“I’m yours,” You said, the words barely audible in the space between you. “Im yours, always,”

“Exactly,” She hummed, running a thumb gently over the skin below your eye. “And I’m yours too, no matter what ring Selena and Barbra decide to have me wear,”

You made a low sound, coming from deep in your chest, as the final tendrils of tension left your form at her reminder. 

Your relationship wasn’t a one-way street, though that’s what some people would assume if they knew about your dynamic. But the truth was that it was equally give and take. You supported each other and did things together. 

She was as much yours as you were hers. 

It still made you feel warm to hear her say it though. 

You leaned in and placed another kiss on her lips. “Don’t hold anything that happens tonight against me please,”

You didn’t add her title to the end of the sentence, despite how much you longed to. You knew if you did, you would never be able to leave the hotel room. You wouldn’t be able to paint on the face of a superstar. 

“Nothing within reason,” She smirked, pulling away from you. “I know you have a show to put on, but the rules still stand,”

You nodded, knowing that the rules always stood, no matter the setting. 

“Alright, lovebirds.” Your publicist, Tony, said, entering the room with a clap. “Your car is here, and Stevie is getting anxious about the paparazzi out front.”

“We’ll be there in just a moment,” Alessia said, her eyes and her steadying grip never leaving you. 

Tony huffed at the dismissal, settling down on the white sheets of the full bed closest to the bathroom. 

You rolled your eyes, stepping out of Alessia’s grip and grabbing your suit jacket. “You don’t have to babysit us,”

Tony made a low sound. “The last time I left you two alone in a hotel room before an award show you missed the Red Carpet, and Steve made sure I couldn’t sit for a week. I’m not taking a chance this time,”

You slipped the jacket over your shoulders, an easy smirk taking over your features. “It’s not my fault Ms. Kyle and Ms. Gordon always pick an outfit that makes Ms. Russo look so… delectable,”

Alessia couldn’t help but giggle, catching your hand. 

Tony didn’t need to know that she was the reason you hadn’t left for the VMAs on time. That the red and black suit you had worn made you too irresistible. 

“Whatever,” Tony huffed, pushing himself to his feet and leading you to the main room where your security, publicist, and team were waiting for you. 

And as you stepped out, you felt the mask of who you were expected to be slipping firmly into place, whether you wanted it to or not. 

******

You supposed you should be used to the cheering. The screams that followed you everywhere you went. 

The volume still surprised you as the dark SUV pulled up to the beginning of the red carpet, stopping so your door was positioned between two thick, red velvet ropes. 

“Ready?” Alessia asked, gently squeezing your hand. 

You hummed, glancing out the window towards the growing crowd, and the men dressed in dark clothing trying to hold them back. 

“As I’ll ever be,” You said, your voice taking on a quality that didn’t exist in your regular speech. 

You closed your eyes for just a second, taking a steadying breath before you grabbed the door handle and pushed open the door. 

The wall of sound that met you was indescribable, and the million-dollar smile you were known for came easily to your lips. 

You waved toward the crowd of screaming fans, and turned back to the car, extending your hand to help your fiancé out. 

Her fingers were warm as they wrapped around yours, and squeezed gently. 

It was a gesture that would go unseen by the blinding flashes behind you. One that was just yours. 

The fans only got louder as she emerged, her dark blue dress flowing across her curves, complementing the sharp lines of your suit. 

You wrapped your free arm around her waist to steady her, never letting go of her hand. 

“Such a gentlewoman,” Alessia said, her voice just barely audible over the squealing fans and the clicking cameras. 

Your signature smirk got wider, your eyes glinting in the camera flashes. 

“Only for you my darling,” You said in your best impression of Gloria Swanson in Sunset Boulevard, your smirk softening when Alessia giggled. “Shall we?”

“Lead the way,” She agreed, leaning in and placing a careful kiss on your cheek. 

The crowd responded immediately, cheering as though it was more than just a kiss on your cheek. You could already see the tweets and Reddit boards looking at every microexpression.  

You hummed, shaking your head, feeling the heat in your skin where her lips had touched you. It centered you as you stepped into the onslaught of people held back only by tiny velvet ropes and security. 

The fans and the paparazzi only got louder as you finally took your first steps on the red carpet. It was like standing too close to a speaker. The cacophony of sound vibrated in your chest, and voices blended together into indistinguishable mush. 

Flashes burned your retinas, never stopping despite you not being in paparazzi ally yet. 

You wished Tony would put up a no flash photography sign for you like they did at the zoo. He would probably laugh and remind you that the circus made no such exceptions for their animals. 

What was worse is that you were used to it. Your face was a commodity to be bought and sold, your attention probably garnering enough cash to last someone for the month. 

You easily navigated the carpet, following Tony as your security buffered you from the public from behind. 

The fans were too far back for you to interact with (you waved anyway, flashing them charming smiles), and you didn’t mind Steve, Clint, Loki, and Thor blocking any cameramen from getting butt shots as you approached the alley line with little Xs. 

You had a split second to breathe while the paparazzi focused on Hayley hitting the final X with Josh before one of the workers held up a sign with your name, and the yelling re-started. 

“Y/n, Alessia this way please,” The attendant said, directing you to the first x. 

You wrapped your arm around Alessia’s waist, pulling her close to you as you took the spot they wanted. You painted your famous million-dollar smile across your features and unwillingly dragged your eyes away from Alessia. 

The barrage of camera flashes was overwhelming, and the calls for your name blended together in a cacophony that would deafen even the most narcissistic of people. 

“Y/n to your left,”

“How about a kiss?”

“Alessia on your right,”

“Show us that ring,”

Your smile turned slightly more cocky, as Alessia’s left hand found the center of your chest, flashing the rock on her finger as she leaned in and pressed a kiss on your cheek. 

It was different than the private one you had shared. 

The kiss just spurred you on, your eyes twinkling with amusement as Tony gestured for you to move to the next X. You caught Alessia’s hand on your chest, bringing it to your lips, seamlessly showing off the expensive ring on her finger before you guided her to the next spot, your fingers running gently over the embroidery on the silky material of her dress. 

“Y/n here please!” The photographers yelled as you got set, and you tired your famous smirk toward the sound. 

“Alright Mr. Demil, I’m ready for my closeup,” you winked at the cameras as the clicking rapidly picked up, and you heard several chuckles from behind the cameras. 

Alessia also chucked from beside you, resting her hand on the center of your chest as the two of you posed again. Your arm tightened around her waist, your fingers tapping her hip gently just out of the view of the cameras. 

The two of you stood there for another long second, looking every bit the power couple you were portraying, before Tony gestured for you to move to the x. 

You squeezed her hip as she turned, leaning close to her ear. “Least I didn’t have to murder anyone to get their attention,” 

“No,” Alessia agreed with another giggle, aware that her response was visible to the crowd. “I guess that’s what happens when you’re a pop star instead of an old silent movie actor. Though your acting is quite good,”

You grinned widely, as you made it to the final X and she turned to face you. “It’s easy when I have you on my arm,” 

She hummed, a bit of red spotting her cheeks, and your grin turned quite wolfish as you tightened your arm around her to draw her closer for the final set of photos. 

“You’re just so ravishing,” You said, far enough away that you knew the cameras would capture it. “Isn’t she?”

You directed the last question at the men behind the cameras, and the clicking of the cameras increased. You didn’t add that their chuckles and cheering didn’t bother you because you knew that Alessia was yours as much as you were hers. 

Alessia hummed again, having expected you to do that. You were never shy with your admiration when you were in public. 

You leaned close to her ear again. “So ravishing that I can’t wait to eat you up,”

“I might just give you a chance later,” She laughed, pushing your chest very lightly. You pulled back with another cheeky grin, wiggling your eyebrows. 

“Alright lovebirds, that’s enough,” Tony said after several seconds, stepping in between you and the cameras, and gesturing you off the final X as the cameras all turned to whoever was going to be taking the alley behind you. “Reporter Row is next, but you only have to make a couple of stops so you’re not late to your seats,”

“Just Call Her Daddy and the slow-mo guy right?” You asked as you guided Alessia to a part of the carpet between 2 walls, hidden from view, and your security team created a little pocket around you. “And I want to say hello to the fans,” 

“Yes,” Tony nodded, looking over his shoulder at the line of media outlets standing less than 3 feet apart from each other. “I’ll keep the rest away from you.”

You swallowed hard and nodded once, leaning into Alessia’s hand that was still on your chest for a long second. 

It didn’t matter how many times you participated in Red carpets, how many times you were trotted around like a show pony in this parade of excess, it never got any less overwhelming. 

You took a deep breath before you let Tony guide you forward, your million-dollar smile taking over your features once more. 

You waved at the reporters as Tony directed you past them, only stopping for the slow-motion camera (dipping Alessia in the photo) before you were standing in front of Alex Cooper. 

“And here is the couple that everyone is talking about. You both look absolutely stunning,” She said, smiling too widely with an easy wave of her hand. “how does it feel to be here at the AMAs,” 

“Thanks, It’s great,”  you matched the expression, tightening your arm around Alessia’s waist. “The fans have been amazing so far and I’m very excited to get to see the performances tonight. Plus any time I get to spend with my gorgeous fiancé is amazing,” 

You winked at the camera and placed a very sweet kiss on Alessia’s cheek. Both women giggled, and Alessia ran her thumb over the back of your hand. 

“And you’re receiving the very first Horizons Award,” Alex pushed on, knowing she had a very limited time with you. 

You nodded, your expression turning serious. “I’m very very honored, though I think the spotlight should really go to the people doing the hard work like folks at the Trevor Project and GLAAD,” 

Alex nodded. “You’re also performing tonight. Any spoilers you can give?” 

You hated how quickly she moved on from the topic you actually cared about. The topic that could actually help other people. 

But you didn’t show it on your face. Instead, you let your features turn mischievous, meeting Tony's eyes off to the side. “You know I don’t like to give away my secrets,” 

It was a silent signal that you could handle this yourself. That the slight podding wasn’t an invasion you needed him to deal with. 

Alex chuckled, holding her little microphone out to Alessia. “What about you Alessia, anything you can say?” 

“I actually haven’t seen it yet, but I’m sure it’ll be fantastic,” Alessia said and you turned your entire attention to her. 

You were sure that there would be memes of the way your expression immediately softened, or how she had all of your attention the second she spoke, but you didn’t care. 

Alex shook her head in mock disappointment. “Well, I’ll let you two go, good luck tonight,” 

You blinked back toward Alex, smiling brightly once again. “Thanks,” 

Then you let Tony guide you away, keeping a protective hand on Alessia’s waist as you headed towards the arena, and you felt your shoulders relax. 

The hardest part of the night was over. 

*****

You released a breath you didn’t know you were holding when you made it to your seats in the front row, with Haylee and Josh on your right and Taylor and Travis on your left. 

You supposed they wanted to keep all of the footballers together so they had something to talk about while their significant others were stuck being exhibited on stage. 

“What’s your color?” Alessia asked, gently squeezing your knee as the show went to commercial break. 

You hummed at the all too familiar, catching her hand and intertwining your fingers. So far the show had been… bearable.

There were a couple of good performances, and you had won 3 awards. There were also minimal jokes from the host directed at you and your fiancé, which you appreciated. 

You were feeling good. You were feeling in control. 

“Green. Are you enjoying the show?” you asked, leaning in close to her in case one of the online fan cams was trained at you. 

She nodded. “The performances have been very good. I really liked Luke’s,”

You grinned wider. Luke Combs had done a mashup of Beautiful Crazy and Forever After All, both of which were songs that you had helped pen. “It’s funny you’re marrying me when you're such a sap for country music,”

Taylor gasped to your left, leaning around Travis to playfully glare at you. “Are you making fun of country music over there?” 

You turned a mischievous smirk on her. “No. I would never,”

She rolled her eyes dramatically at you. “Pop music is just glorified county you know?” 

And you couldn’t help but smile at the pompous tone. 

“Maybe country music is just slow pop music,” You shrugged, matching her tone. 

“I’m confused by what’s happening,” Travis said over your head towards Alessia. “Do they do this frequently?”

Alessia couldn't hold her giggle anymore. “Since they met. You would think that neither of them writes country music,” 

“Oh,” Travis said, turning a slight shade of pink. 

This wasn’t your first time meeting him, but it was his first time attending one of these with Taylor, and you could tell he was nervous. 

You leaned back into Alessia’s side, just as the lights flashed, indicating that the show would be back in 30 seconds. “I’m glad you liked Luke’s performance,” 

“And I’m going to love yours too,” She said, and you made a low sound. 

You were most nervous about what she would think of what you had planned. The performance that you had been working on for weeks. 

Her opinion was the only one that mattered to you after all. 

The lights flashed again, in the 10-second warning and Tony materialized in front of you. “Hey kid, I need to steal you,” 

“Go be amazing,” Alessia said softly, pushing you gently to your feet. 

You sighed, eyes darting back to you when she gently tapped your ass as you stood, and she looked the picture of innocence. 

Travis was coughing to hold in his laugh from the other side, and Taylor was smirking. 

You rolled your eyes and let Tony drag you away, though Taylor did catch your eye as you left, sending you an easy nod. 

At least you knew that Alessia would be entertained while you were gone. 

*****

Alessia could understand why you despised award shows as much as you did. 

You had disappeared 45 minutes ago, and your seat had been filled by a random stranger only there to make the arena look full. There were more commercials than performances or actual show. 

Though it was nice to talk to Taylor and Travis, it was inherently boring and slightly unnerving because of all of the cameras. 

The announcer kept mentioning that you were coming up or up next, and really Alessia didn’t think anyone needed more suspense. 

And then Taylor was whisked away by Tree, and the lights were flashing, and she knew that it was finally time. 

Taylor stepped out onto the stage with a brilliant smile, walking to the front. 

“As artists, we have incredible platforms. We have fans that stretch around the globe, and our next performer has gone above and beyond to give each and every one of them a voice,” Taylor said. “From raising more than 600 million dollars for charities like the Trevor Project to granting more wishes this year than anyone else, all well releasing an album that stood at number one for a record 29 consecutive weeks, she is the embodiment of what a star should be. That is why she is this year’s recipient of the Horizons Award. I’m honored to welcome my friend, Y/n Y/l/n,”

The stage shifted, the side Taylor was on was going dark while the curtain lifted on the other, revealing you standing in a spotlight. 

You weren’t dressed in the suit she had last seen you in. Instead, you were in a white shirt, suspenders, and Khakis, and you were barefoot. 

You took a big deep breath, your shoulders moving with it as the opening piano notes of the song started, and Alessia felt her own breath catch in her throat. 

It was when the party’s over.

You looked up at the crowd and started to sing. 

At first, Alessia thought that this was going to be the performance. Just raw and painful. Completely vulnerable. 

But off to the side, another spotlight shined, showing a dark-haired woman in a white flowy dress that had yellow around the bottom, matching your kakies. She danced towards you, the dress billowing around her ankles as she twirled. 

She touched your shoulder and you melted into her, catching her hand and beginning to dance. 

Alessia’s breath caught. The world had never seen you dance before. Not like this. 

There was a lot of push and pull. Moments where the dancer would hold you close and others where she would shove you away. With every movement, your perfectly pressed clothing became disheveled, one suspender dropping, several buttons of your shirt coming undone and your always immaculate hair going very messy. 

The two of you flowed together in a beautiful story of pain and disappointment. 

It was… indescribable, and Alessia and the entire arena were entranced. 

She could feel herself leaning forward as you got to the bridge. 

You twirled the dancer, pulling her close so your foreheads touched and your lips were nearly brushing. It was intimate and stunning, but Alessia didn’t feel jealous. 

Let’s just let it go

Let me let you go

You breathed heavily, the sound echoing around the arena, as everything stopped. 

Quiet when I’m coming home and I’m on my own

The dancer pulled backward, walking away from you, and you left your arm out, fingers stretched as she disappeared off stage as if you were calling her back. 

Suddenly you were alone again, stuck in the spotlight. 

And I could lie, say I like it like that, like it like that

Your voice faded out and the stage went dark.

Everything was silent for a long second before the crowd erupted around her, people pushing themselves to their feet as the lights came back on. You ran your hand through your messy hair, pushing it back as you bowed to the standing ovation. Your eyes roamed the crowd, finally landing in Alessia. 

Your head tilted at her in acknowledgment, like you were asking ‘What’d ya think?’ in the stupid southern accent you sometimes affected to make her laugh. She nodded. 

Words could not describe how proud she was.

Her chest welled up with pride. With awe until it was practically overflowing. She felt lucky that she knew you. That she got to love you. Even the parts of you that you didn’t like to talk about. 

She sent you a kiss, and you caught it, sliding it into your pocket with a wink. And then with a blink, the mask of your character was sliding back into place as your fingers briefly ran over the braided bracelet that never left your wrist. 

Taylor approached you with a crystal trophy, passing it to you with a hug and words only you could hear whispered in your ear. 

You nodded as you pulled away, saying something back with a cheeky smile. Alessia knew there would be lip readers all over TiK Tok later trying to decipher the exchange. 

And then you turned back to the audience, looking out over the crowd like you were royalty surveying your kingdom, your eyes twinkling as they continued their ruckus applause. 

You waited another long second before you held up the crystal trophy reminiscent of how Alessia had helped hoist the Euros trophy, before you took another bow and then were gone, disappearing backstage with Taylor. 

She wasn’t sure how you got out of your speech, but she guessed Tony would release one for you later.

“That was fucking incredible,” Travis said as they retook their seats. “How does she sing that high and dance at the same time?”

Alessia dragged her eyes away from where you had disappeared. “She does a lot of breath training,”

Travis nodded like that answer was sufficient, just as Tony appeared in front of them again. 

“Do you want to go backstage? I'm not sure if Y/n will be coming back out,” He said softly. “The show is almost over anyway,”

She met his gaze, seeing the message that he hadn’t said out loud. The worry hidden in brown eyes. It was familiar in a slightly unnerving way. 

You were always the consummate professional, brushing off concern with ease and navigating situations that put you on edge without a hair out of place. 

You would push through because that is what the Hollywood machine expected from you, even in your most vulnerable moments, and no one would know the difference. 

You were excellent at pretending until you weren’t. 

She knew from just one look that one of two things had happened: you had asked him to come get her or he had seen you struggling and done it himself. 

“Sure,” She said, letting him help her up. “It was nice meeting you,”

She directed it toward Travis who nodded in return.

“Taylor should be out in a few minutes,” Tony said toward the man before he led her away. 

She didn’t look back to see his response, staying very close to Tony as he led her out of the row. 

Clint took up her back the second they made it to the aisle. 

She didn’t ask Tony if you were ok, though she wanted to. She would just have to wait and see for herself. 

******

Your fingers curled against the wooden counter of the makeshift vanity, as you leaned all of your weight forward. 

You closed your eyes and did your best to focus on your breathing. 

You were ok. 

It didn’t make sense for you not to be. 

Your performance had gone off without a hitch. You had accepted your award and not made yourself look like a total idiot. 

So why was there a boa constrictor around your lungs?

Maybe it was how claustrophobic the little changing room they had given you was. Maybe it was the fake smiles and handshakes you had received from everyone except for Taylor.

You tried to pull in more oxygen, but it felt like you were sucking air through a straw. 

You shook your head, forcing your eyes to meet themselves in the mirror (adamantly ignoring the gleaming award sitting next to you), knuckles turning white as you tried to ground yourself in the moment. 

They were wide, terrified with pupils blown wide like you had taken too much of your ADHD medication. 

What the fuck was happening to you?

You tried to force another breath through your lungs, sucking in deeply through your nose and pushing it out your mouth. 

It shouldn’t be this hard. 

You didn’t even blink when the curtain that separated your small changing room from the hallway was slowly pulled aside. 

You didn’t have to. You already knew that the only person Steve and Natasha would let through was your fiancé. 

“Hey,” She said, stepping up behind you and placing a very careful hand on your shoulder. “Tell me your color,”

Her voice was soft but twinged with the edge of command that never failed to make you melt. She wasn’t asking you where you were at, she was ordering you to tell her. 

It took a moment for the question to filter past the roaring in your ears, and the rapid beating of your heart. It took another for you to assess what you were feeling. 

You knew you could just say yellow, the blanket term for caution, but you also knew you had a plethora of other options. Ones that reached past the traditional stoplight system to be more descriptive. Ones that made it easier to put your emotions into words- something you had always struggled with. 

You swallowed hard, reaching for a color that you hardly ever used outside of the bedroom, and even then you had only used it once. “Orange, I think,” 

Alessia’s hand tightened on your shoulder, but her expression didn’t change. 

Orange meant anxious. More than anxious really. It meant trapped. Too confined. Too constricted. 

It meant on the wrong edge of panic, but not far enough gone to be red. 

“Ok,” She said, her voice even, calm. A complete contrast to how you felt. “Can I come closer?”

It was probably a strange question considering that the changing room was so small that she had to be within a foot of you to be inside, but you appreciated the thought (likely born from the last time where you had pulled the quick-release cord on the rope harness Alessia had crafted and hadn’t wanted any contact for almost an hour). 

You nodded. 

You wanted her touch. You craved it, and a part of you knew it would be the only thing that would help you breathe again. 

“Words my little one,” Alessia prompted you softly. 

You nodded again. “Yes, please,”

She moved immediately, dragging her hand across your shoulders as she stepped behind you, and down your arm to rest on your wrist just above your bracelet while the other slid across your abs. You didn’t even remember undoing your shirt. 

Her chin hooked over your shoulder as she pulled you back into her, pressing her lips very gently to the skin under your ear. 

“Breathe with me,” She said, taking an exaggerated breath in, her chest expanding against your back. 

You did your best to copy her, even if it made your chest ache. 

It took several minutes, but eventually your stuttered, shaking breaths steadied, and you relaxed in her arms. 

“Good girl,” She hummed when she felt you settle into her, placing a very gentle kiss by your ear. “Better?” 

“Better,” You agreed. “Thank you,”

“Always,” She said, her fingers tapping gently on your abs. “Your performance was incredible by the way. I’m so proud of you,”

“Really?” You asked, your voice going soft, and an insecurity you didn’t let anyone by Alessia see creeping into your tone. 

“Yes,” She promised, her lips tickling your ear. “You were spectacular. You had everyone on the edge of their seats, including me,”

You leaned back into her, your head tilting to give her more room. “Thank you,”

It could be considered strange sometimes, how your need for physical touch changed after anxious moments. How sometimes you shied away from it and needed space to ground yourself. Other times you needed it desperately to bring yourself back down to earth. 

It could be considered strange how…quickly you could go from one end of the spectrum to the other. But it had always been that way.

You could tell that she was trying to gauge your mood by the way her hand splayed low on your stomach, shifting just enough so her pinky was brushing the waist of your khakis. Silently asking if you needed more contact. 

Your breath caught in your throat as her lips turned to your exposed neck, her teeth gently grazing the skin. 

“What is your color,” She asked you seriously, and you held in your groan at the tone. 

“I’m ok,” You said, fighting to keep your voice even, and your body still (one of the rules that existed when the two of you did things like this). “Want more,”

She hummed, but her hand didn’t move and her lips completely detached from your neck. “That isn’t what I asked you. Tell me your color,”

You met her eyes in the mirror, a shiver running down your spine at the icy blue you found there. 

You knew what she was really asking you. 

It wasn’t just about if you wanted to go farther. She was making sure you were still present. That you were there enough to consent. That you weren’t just doing what you thought she wanted you to do. 

You swallowed, working through what you were feeling, rolling through the more descriptive menu of colors you had to choose from. 

“Amber,” You decided. One of the colors that was in between green and yellow. The one that told her you couldn’t deal with anything heavy or teasing, but that you were coherent and most importantly able to consent. 

She hummed, her lips returning to your neck, and her hand glided further down your abs. “That’s what I thought too,” 

You couldn’t stop the low groan that left your lips when her hand slid past the waist of your Khakis, or when her thumb began to toy with the hem of your boxers. 

“You did so well tonight, my little one,” She said into your ear. “I’m so proud of you. Let me take care of you now,”

You let your head fall back completely on her shoulder, as her hand finally dipped into your boxers and her teeth gently joined her lips at the sweet spot on your neck. 

Her fingers were gentle as they walked down the front of your groin until they landed between your lower lips. 

She didn’t immediately go for your clit, choosing to dip lower between your legs instead. 

A shiver went down your spine when she ran through you, making a low sound just below your ear. 

“You’re wet,” She said, the words tickling your ear. “Is this for me, little one?”

You swallowed hard. “Always for you,”

Her teeth nipped at your ear. “For who?”

“You Daddy,” You murmured. “Always for you,”

It was true. You had been ready for her as soon as you saw her in her dress. 

Selena and Barbra knew that blue was your favorite color on her because of how it brought out her eyes. They knew you were obsessed with the feeling of silk and satin. 

They had known what they were doing when they chose your outfits, and not just in the sense of what the fans would think. 

She hummed, her fingers slowly dragging through you. “And to think all of those people out there think it’s for them,”

“Not for them,” You said, shaking slightly as a finger slipped inside. “Your daddy,”

“I know,” She agreed, her voice soft, soothing despite the harshness of her teeth on the soft skin of your neck, no doubt leaving a dark mark you would have to cover later. 

Or maybe you wouldn’t cover it. 

That was a decision that could be made later. 

“You performed so well. You’re so good,” Alessia repeated, as she finally began to move, a second finger joining the first after only a few thrusts. “Now let daddy reward you,”

She shifted so her palm grazed your clit with every movement as she picked up the pace. 

The pressure was perfect but it wasn’t enough, even with her fingers curling against your inner walls. 

As if reading your thoughts, Alessia’s free hand moved. It trailed up your arm to under your chin, cupping your neck, the warm metal of her ring pressing into your skin. 

She didn’t apply enough pressure to cut off your air, just enough for you to know her hand was there. Enough for the pressure to ground you. To prove that she was there. 

You sucked in a sharp breath, melting back into her. 

“That’s it, my good girl,” Alessia crooned, her mouth never leaving the abused skin just under your ear. “You’re doing so well for me,”

You were good. 

You were doing well.

You could feel yourself rising higher, the coil in your tummy pulling tighter. You knew what was coming, the sweet release that would wipe every thought from your brain. 

“Please,” You breathed out, feeling a smile curl on the lips against your neck. 

She hummed as if considering the request. 

The rational part of your brain knew that she wouldn’t string you along like she sometimes loved to do, not with the color you had given. The rational part of your brain knew she wouldn’t ruin the orgasm threatening to crash over you like she enjoyed when you were both bored at events. 

She wouldn’t make you wait when neither of you had agreed to play a game tonight. 

But the rational part of your brain wasn’t in control right now. 

“Cum for me little one,” She said after a long second, her pace never changing, the hand on your throat squeezing just a bit. 

But that was all it took. 

Your eyes rolled back in your head, and you felt the hand on your neck move to form a seal over your lips, stopping any sound from leaving you. 

Alessia kept up her movements, working you through your orgasm, and supporting your weight as you went nearly boneless against her. 

“Good girl,” She said, slowing her hands as the final aftershocks rocked through you. “Always my good girl,”

You groaned low, your eyes opening to meet her smoldering blue in the mirror and her hand fell away. “Say it again please,”

“You are my good girl,” She repeated, keeping eye contact with you, carefully removing her hand from your core. “And I’m so proud of you,”

She brought her fingers to your lips, and you accepted them without question, sucking greedily at her skin until it was clean.

She pulled them from your lips with a chuckle. “I take it you’re feeling better?”

“Yes,” You agreed, leaning back into her. “I don’t know what happened. I got off stage and it was like I couldn’t breathe,”

“Well, you went from a very emotional performance, which was breathtaking by the way, to winning a massive award,” Alessia reasoned gently. “That’s a lot of emotional bandwidth to handle,”

You made a low noise. “It’s always coming down that’s the hardest,”

“I know,” Alessia hummed, kissing very gently just below your ear.

“You helped,” You continued.

“I will always help you,” Alessia promised fiercely, and you believed her. “Are you ready to get changed so we can get out of here?”

You nodded. “Yeah.”

But you made no move to leave her arms.

You were too comfortable to move, wrapped in her safety, and she let you stay there for a few more minutes before she carefully unbuttoned the two buttons left on your shirt, and did the zipper on your pants. 

You didn’t remember her unbuttoning those, but then again you were a bit… distracted. 

She pulled away as she dragged the shirt from your shoulders, dropping it unceremoniously on the makeshift table next to your Horizons award. You slid your pants down and turned to face her. 

“Selena dropped off my after outfit,” You gestured towards the garnet bag sitting in the chair behind her. 

Alessia undid the zipper, pulling out another blue suit, this one more plain than the first.

“I think she knew how this night would end,” Alessia said, passing you the extra pair of boxers Selena also included in the bag. 

You hummed, swapping the boxers. “Perhaps we’re getting too predictable,”

“Or our stylists just know us too well,” Alessia countered, holding out a black button-down for you. You slipped your arms through the sleeves and stepped closer to her so she could do up the little snaps. “And changing our… routine doesn’t exactly appeal to me,” 

“Me neither,” you agreed, taking the pants when she was finished and thanking the universe that there was elastic around the waist. You tucked your shirt into them and pulled on the dark blue vest that matched. “Will you help with the tie?”

“Of course,” Alessia rolled her eyes, pulling the blue silk out of the garment bag. “Come here my love,”

Your nose scrunched involuntarily at the nickname she had chosen, but you straightened and stepped closer to her.

“What’s with the face?” She asked, lips ticking up as she placed the tie around your neck. 

You shrugged, looking away slightly, red bleeding into your cheeks. “I like the other nickname better,”

“Which one?” She questioned, using a thumb to move your chin so you were looking at her again. “My little one or my good girl,”

A shiver ran down your spine as she repeated the nickname. 

It wasn’t the one she usually went to, because you didn’t usually enjoy it. But tonight was different. 

Something about it felt… right. 

“Ah,” Alessia said, reading your expression. “Keep your chin up so I can do your tie, my good girl,”

You let out a low sound but kept your chin tilted up. 

It only took her a second to do the knot, straightening the bow so it was centered. “There, good as new, and gorgeous as ever,”

The red on your cheeks bled down your neck and up toward your ears. “Thank you,”

“Always, my good girl,” She said, leaning in and pressing a quick kiss to your lips. “Do you want the jacket too?”

You shook your head. “Why don’t you wear it? It’ll look smashing with your dress,”

“It is a bit chilly in the hall,” Alessia reasoned, and you leaned around her to grab the soft material, holding it for her. 

She turned and you draped it over her shoulders. 

“Perfect,” You murmured, your fingers lingering on her shoulders.

There was something incredibly sexy about seeing her draped in something that was yours. You wondered if this was how she felt when she saw you wearing the braided bracelet (or your collar), or when she wrapped you in intricate knots or left dark bruises just under your chin. 

It was how you felt when you saw the real ring on her finger. 

“Enjoying the view?” Alessia asked, raising a perfect eyebrow at you. 

You blinked at her, not realizing she had turned to face you again. More heat joined the flush already in your cheeks.

“Always,” You said, your eyes crinkling with your smile. “You’re still as ravishing as ever,” 

“Let’s go before we end up here all night,” Alessia hummed, holding her hand out for you. “You might want to run your hand through your hair,”

“I think it’s adequately messy,” You shrugged. “The fans will enjoy every hair being perfectly out of place, and I’m going to put on a beanie once we get to the car,”

“Wouldn’t want them to see your favorite disguise,” Alessia said, as you took her hand. 

You wiggled your eyebrows. “No. Then I wouldn’t be able to sneak into arsenal games undetected,”

“You mean it wouldn’t allow you to get mobbed at games because your disguise is never good enough for general admission,” Alessia corrected, moving toward the curtain of the dressing room. 

“That was once,” You huffed. Alessia raised her eyebrow at you.

“Fine, twice,” You conceded with a wave of your free hand as she pulled you out of the changing room. 

“Try 6,” Tony said, as soon as you stepped into the bustling hallway. 

You didn’t ask how he knew what you were talking about. You didn’t have to. 

You knew your privacy wasn’t really private. Especially not here, even if you wanted to pretend it was. 

“More like 8,” Steve intoned, stepping away from his spot guarding the entrance to the little makeshift room. “You have a bad habit of ending up in places you shouldn’t be without enough security,”

You shrugged. “Yelena and Natasha are plenty,”

“Together, yes,” Steve sighed, as Clint appeared behind him. “Not when you only take one or the other,”

You rolled your eyes, stepping closer to Alessia, and wrapping your free arm around her lower waist. “Details,”

Alessia hummed, noting the change in your demeanor, her eyes drifting up to see the cause (a little black camera on the ceiling further down the hall). 

“Shall we go, darling?” You asked, again imitating Norma Desmond. “The cameras are waiting, Ms. Russo,”

Alessia nodded, squeezing your hand. “Yes, let's go home. I believe we have some unfinished business to attend to,”

“Ah yes,” You agreed, wiggling your eyebrows. “I still need to get my taste,” 

Alessia and your security laughed, though there was a glint of something very familiar in your fiance’s eyes. Something that told you that this night was far from over. 

Something that told you she would be… claiming you as soon as you were away from prying eyes. 

Something that told you this night would be ending with something just between the two of you. 

Something that was yours that the outside world couldn't take away from you. 

“Don’t worry, my good girl,” Alessia murmured, pulling you close. “You’ll get all the tastes you can handle,”

[yearning-for-autumn]

Psycho Coach - Cassian Headcanon

Summary - Cassian trains the kids, but forgets he can't yell at children like he does the Illyrian armies.

Warnings - None

A/N - This is based on my own headcanons for a next generation of the inner circle. It's just a little scenario I had to get out of my head, so, enjoy!

It was Milo who struggled most during basic training. The eldest of Azriel’s twin boys had always been more bookish than physical, a mystery to Azriel who had always naturally excelled in training. 

It was clear to Cassian that Milo tried 10 times harder than the others just to keep up, especially to his eldest daughter Zelda who could hold her own with the Valkyries already.

“Milo! I’ve told you 10 times to straighten that back leg. Run the drill again”

Cassian was used to yelling at the Illyrian warriors he trained every day and he didn’t hold back on his kids.

A hundred different scenarios raced around his mind, of Milo unprepared and injured, or killed in battle.

He watched as Milo ran the drill again, still weak in his back leg. He kicked upwards at Bryony, Cassian’s middle child, who easily blocked him and sent him toppling backwards. 

Cassian ran his hands over his face in frustration.

“I have told you enough times to straighten your leg, I should not have to repeat myself for you to apply my corrections!” He yelled, “What are you going to do when you’re in a real battle, huh? Rely on one of them?” He gestured to one of the kids who were all standing with grim faces. 

Every one of them had been on the receiving end of one of Cassian’s tyrades, but they all knew Milo wasn’t one to be able to sit and take it.

Milo’s face crumpled, and tears spilled down his cheeks before Cassian had even finished chewing him out. 

Cassian was on his knees before the kid as soon as he noticed his shaking shoulders, gathering him against his chest.

He couldn’t lie and say he wasn’t still frustrated, but even he knew when he had gone too far, and Milo was a soft kid. Cassian was horrified at making his nephew cry.

“Shh, shh don’t cry, I’m sorry, I was being psycho coach again, wasn’t I?” He asked, trying to turn Milo’s tears to laughter. Milo sniffed and nodded, laying his head on Cassian’s shoulder like he was trying to kill him with guilt. 

Of course Azriel chose this moment to come and check on everyone’s progress. He looked at Nyx, the eldest, for an explanation. 

“Uncle Cass was being an arsehole to Milo.”

Cassian shot his eldest nephew a disparaging look.

Azriel scooped Milo up out of Cassian’s arms and held him, even though the kid was definitely too old to be carried around anymore, shooting Cassian a disapproving stare. Cassian held his hands up in surrender.

“I didn’t mean to make him cry, I was just trying to correct his form.”

Azriel rolled his eyes, but didn’t look too angry, even he knew that Milo could be a bit…sensitive sometimes. He busied himself instead with kissing Milo’s forehead, pampering him far too much in Cassian’s humble opinion, but then he was the one that threw his own children off the balcony to teach them how to fly. 

I have no idea how to end this little headcanon scenario so…yeah. I just really wanted to write out this scene that I have had in my head for aaages. I know not everyone will care about my own personal next gen headcanons, but I am personally very attached to them.

[innerfare]

Eustass Kid Fluff // Angst Compilation

Summary: A compilation of Eustass Kid angst and fluff from my multi character posts (You're Wounded, Brushing Your Teeth Together, Flowers, Type of Date, You See His Cabin, Fighting and Making Up, Paradise, Nightmares, I Love You, You're Jealous).

Genre: Fluff // Angst

CW: None // SFW

———

You’re Wounded: 

Lectures you on your fighting form, tears into you for taking any unnecessary risks, gets on your case about not seeking medical attention fast enough. Tells you to get some rest, sits at your bed side until you’re better, claims he’s not there for you and is just resting his own eyes. 

Brushing Your Teeth Together: 

Was always too ADHD to stand in front of the mirror for a full minute brushing his teeth, always ended up wandering around the ship while brushing and then forgetting to finish; only started staying put when you began joining him. 

Flowers: 

If it’s at the point where he’s buying flowers, this man is so far beyond pride he won’t flinch at purchasing a bundle of pink tulips, even if they clash with his outfit/aesthetic. He also presents you one night with a bouquet of metal flowers he made himself. He spent ages on it, but he really didn’t mean to. He intended to make one but got absorbed in his work and made an entire bundle of dainty little metal flowers. He’s oddly proud of himself for making something so delicate and would be crushed if you ever got rid of them. 

Type of Date: 

He’ll take you to a concert, best seats in the house. He would prefer rock, but he’ll go to any concert you want. Honestly has no qualms about pulling up to an Ariana Grande or Taylor Swift concert with you, won’t go so far as to learn the lyrics but will nod his head and dance with you because he doesn’t believe people should be ashamed of their music taste (that being said, he can’t help but be embarrassed by just how much he likes Olivia Rodrigo; Sour is punk rock and Brutal is his favorite song, no matter what Killer says). He’ll buy you two matching t-shirts, too. 

You See His Cabin For The First Time: 

It’s as messy and ostentatious as you’d expect, but he sheepishly tries to fold the leopard-print blanket crumpled on the bed and put some laundry in the hamper, though you quickly deduce he has no clue which clothes belong in the hamper and which go in his closet. It’s shocking to see him care what someone thinks. He has a pile of lipstick and nail polish on his desk and an impressive collection of weapons he’s stolen from various pirates; he could probably open a museum with all the weapons he has. Also has lots of tools he forgot were in there. TBH, he’s probably as shocked as you are by the state of his cabin because he spends most of his alone time in his workshop, anyway. 

Fighting and Making Up: 

Actually loves to fight, lives to butt heads. Has a notoriously bad temper, meaning the two of you often fight. Serious fights usually happen because his temper got him into trouble. The number of arguments you’ve had while you’re patching him up because he got in a nasty bar is unreal. Your argument always over something stupid, at least in his opinion. He usually ends up storming off and locking himself in his workshop because he doesn’t want to yell at you too much but he’s furious with you and still has a bunch of adrenaline flowering through his bloodstream from his last fight. Alternately, he’ll start fights with you when feels like you’re keeping something from him, even if it’s something small, because it drives him crazy and he thinks you should be an open book. He's not really the jealous type when it comes to physical stuff, but he does get upset when you seem to have an emotional or intellectual connection with someone else, and that can cause some arguments. Oh, and fights are most definitely foreplay, so you can conclude how the two of you make up. 

Paradise 1: 

Waking up to fresh powder blanketing the ground and jumping out of bed, barely getting your boots and one of his coats on before you’re outside, romping through the snow. Falling into a snow bank with your arms out, giggling as you make a snow angel, grinning even wider when he surprises you by laying down beside you and doing the same, letting his inner child show through for a brief moment. 

Paradise 2: 

Escaping the chaos of life and climbing a desolate hill, sharing a late afternoon snack as you stare up at the clouds and point out different shapes, saying, “that’s you,” when you see a funny one. Arguing over which one of you gets to be the dragon cloud, your argument turning into roughhousing and the two of you accidentally rolling down the hill, him laughing and kissing your cheek when he knows you’re okay and then starting the argument again. 

Nightmares: 

It’s never like it happened with his first love, Victoria. And it’s always some way new. You fall overboard during a storm and drown, Kid diving into the water to save you but sinking due to his devil fruit ability, Killer diving in to save him but leaving you to die. You get deathly ill and he enlists the help of his ally, Trafalgar Law, to save your life, but he betrays Kid and kills you. He gets captured by a crew of enemy pirates, and when the crew comes to save him, you get killed in the crossfire. The nightmares just keep coming like this, you dying because he couldn’t protect you or expected someone else to do it for him. And each time he wakes up, it is with a renewed certainty that the only way to keep you safe is to do it himself.  

I Love You: 

You say it first. You say it a couple of times, actually, before you ever hear it back. You’re sitting in his workshop watching him build something, and you just sort of blurt the words out. You swear Kid hesitates before picking up the next piece of metal, but he gives no real acknowledgment you uttered those three words. Knowing exactly the sort of man he is and not expecting to receive anything in return, just wanting him to know how you feel in the moment, you aren’t actually offended, but you are wondering if he didn’t hear you. So, the next day in his workshop, you say it again, once more receiving no response. The third time you say it to him, catching him while he’s painting his nails, you receive a grunt in response (Kid is a man of grunts, not a man of words). Only in the heat of battle do you hear it back. He catches you around the waist and picks you up, and you fight thinking it’s an enemy, only for him to say, “I love you,” in your ear before deflecting a canon ball headed straight for the two of you and then setting you on your feet like nothing happened. From that point forward, he’ll say it, but only at inopportune times.

You’re Jealous: 

He doesn’t ever talk about his first love, Victoria. In fact, you didn’t even know she existed until Killer got drunk one night and began speaking of his dearly departed. What he didn’t mention was that Kid, too, had been in love with her. It only comes up the next night when you mention it to Wire, who mentions it was the death of his first love, Victoria, that put Kid on the war path and united the first four members of the Kid Pirates. Realizing Wire messed up, Heat chimes in to say, “he’d do the same for you.” But you’re not convinced, mainly because Kid never told you any of this. It tears you apart, leaves you tossing and turning for nights on end, until you finally burst into Kid’s workshop one night ranting about how he doesn’t trust you and holds you at arm’s length. “Heat says you’d do the same for me, but-” Kid cuts you off and says, “I wouldn’t do the same, I’d do worse. Much, much worse.” And from the wicked gleam in his eye, you’re inclined to believe him. 

———

Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!

[lakes-writting-rambles]

Out Of Choice, But Not Out Of Reach - #1 Inevitabilities And Such Unfortunate Things

words:2889

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Sometimes your destiny is completely out of your hands – Danny Fenton couldn’t seem to find a way to avoid learning that lesson. First; when he was shot when Slade invaded the headquarters of the League, and subsequently his family, was using, while the fight between Slade and Grandfather was going on, he used the chaos to get to the Lazarus Pit before he bled out; a second time when he died in that godforsaken portal; the most prevalent one was definitely his first meeting with Clockwork, there he noticed that it doesn’t matter how hard you try, if it isn’t meant to be, someone will interfere. It doesn’t mean he won’t still do things as before, but now there’s forever the dread of knowing.

It’s been about a year since what he, Jazz, Sam and Tucker dubbed “The Dan Incident”, and Danny can't seem to stop thinking about it. Well, not really about Dan, no, but about Damian. He can’t stop thinking about how Dan likely ended up killing Damian – it’d be inevitable, and, considering the state the future he had been shown was in, he hoped Damian went early on, really, he also hoped it was quick, like he tried to do when he was in the League.

What really bothered Danny, though, was that he couldn’t help but wonder if staying with the Fentons even was a good idea at this point. Surely he has learned that misfortune would follow him anywhere he went, so why wait for the shoe to drop? Before the accident, he was relatively safe to live the rest of his life in Amity, sure, it was kind of a deadend, but it was tranquil, so he couldn’t really complain. Now, though? He was in constant danger inside and outside his house, being half dead meant no place with the living and no place with the dead. He should leave while he still can.

The League isn’t likely to spot him, considering it’s been years since his “death” and he probably looks different enough from Damian now… which is something he’ll have to think about later. And the threats of dissection (vivisection?) by his parents keep increasing – he doesn’t want to fuck around and find out.

So, the League is probably not an issue anymore, staying seems to get more dangerous each day and he’s pretty sure most ghosts only come to Amity to fight him.

Nevertheless, running away also came with a plethora of problems, for one: leaving Jazz and his friends. When he got adopted into the Fenton household he tried not to get attached to anyone. He couldn’t keep that up for long, as a touch starved 9 year old that came from a violent background and got thrown into a very loving family. First, he got attached to his parents, then Jazz, Tucker, and finally, Sam. He doesn’t regret it, not one bit, but it might make this choice hard to make – since the easiest way to run away would be to fake his death and forgo any contact with everyone from his old life. Maybe they’d know he wasn’t (fully) dead, maybe they’d just be extremely miserable, he wouldn't know. 

Another issue is that he’s the current Ghost King, and oh boy doesn’t that complicate things? He keeps getting more powerful, which means keeping his cover is getting harder – an unsettling and overpowering aura surrounds him now, and sure, it reacts to other people’s emotions as well as his own, which in theory should make it easier to hide, since everyone in Amity seems to have differing opinions on his two  personas, but the fact that his aura is big enough that others take notice is concerning enough on its own; he’s control over his abilities needs to be impeccable or he risks getting found out; and he’s pretty sure some of his more ghostly traits are beginning to bleed over into his human form. He also needs stable access to a portal, since he needs to take at least two trips per month to the Ghost Zone so he can check over things with Clockwork and parade around to remind the citizens of the realm that he is their king; he can’t officially take over since he’s still alive, once he’s entirely dead he will, but for now the observants act as regents and that’s more than fine by him.

And third: he’s not really sure where he should go. You’d think Gotham would be his first option because of his father, but he has too much media presence, so Danny’d be brought to the spotlight. Does anyone in Amity care about Gotham? Not that he knows of. But it’d still be too big of a risk. Plus, Tucker really wants to work in Wayne Enterprises in the future, he’s sure that it’d become a problem in no time.

So… what to do? Money isn’t a problem, since he has access to all the treasure hoarded by Pariah Dark over the centuries, but that’s not all he has to consider. He needs some sort of safety net, that much is obvious, and since he won’t be able to count on his regular support system, he should fall back on his blood.

Maybe he could go to Blüdhaven? It’s close enough to Gotham that he can go there if he somehow needs to come into contact with someone from his biological family but not enough that he’d be immediately clocked… but then there’s Nightwing… as long as he doesn’t get  into any trouble it should be fine, right? It’s not like there’s a city without a hero nowadays… Urgh, nevermind, he’ll come back to these thoughts later, he’d rather not spend his rare moment of peace coming up with what to do after he fakes his death.

Sometimes fate decides that things should be ultimately out of your hands – but Damian Al Ghul Wayne fights with all his might to avoid such a thing becoming a rule in his life. When he came to live with his father, around 7 years ago, he held out hope that his twin had made it and would eventually return to his side. That never happened. And now Damian isn’t sure how to approach the topic of Danyal with his family, so he just… doesn’t. Even after all this time, it feels wrong to keep the memory of Danyal to himself, he should be celebrated, even if his death was premature and almost a decade has passed.

Danyal had died the same day as Grandfather, which is why his grief isn’t questioned –, even if the Bats are well aware of his distaste of his Grandfather’s actions, now that he’s recognized them for what they were. Damian isn’t sure if it’ll ever come to pass, because in quiet moments like this, he thinks of what could have been.

His twin was never needlessly violent, and his killings were virtually a mercy, compared to the others in the LoA, even himself. Maybe he would have adapted faster than Damian did, maybe he would have made a better Robin, maybe they would still wake up together and share little moments of quiet.

It’s all speculation, all it will ever be. They never found his body, but even now, years later, the image of his pierced chest is burned between the other twin’s eyes, it wasn’t likely to survive a wound like that, and even if he did, the bloodloss would’ve killed him regardless. But to a 9 year old, the what ifs often overshadow reality, which is why Damian had kept his hopes up, afterall, one of the many teachings of the League was that “if there isn’t a body then one should always consider the possibility of the victim having survived”. But now, at 16, he could see it for what it was, the foolishness of a child longing for what is gone – he’ll never admit it, but in the darkest, deepest and most hidden part of his heart, Damian still has a little bit of wonder, almost completely squashed, but a bit of hope of seeing his brother once again remains.

There’s no use for pondering at the moment, time doesn’t stop and soon one of his siblings will notice his absence at breakfast and come to pester him, thus he gets up and readies himself to face another hectic morning.

“If I were to go missing, where would you search for me first?” was not a question Tucker was ready for, like, at all, but especially at two in the afternoon on a saturday. Danny hadn’t been the same since that thing with Dan or whatever they had dubbed it, he didn’t change much, but he seemed to get lost in thought more frequently, and Tucker didn’t blame him! Really! But man, what went through his head was morbid at times, and he maybe shouldn’t voice those out of nowhere.

— Uhh I guess… your parent’s basement? — awkward silence fills the air, it’s the most obvious answer, but not a thing they normally consider outloud. A grimace crosses Danny’s face for a second.

— No, I mean, if I …ran away. — he says, and there’s some hesitancy. Obviously, there’s more to the question, but Tucker can’t for the life of him figure out what it could be.

— I’d guess Wisconsin, since it’s close by and you might be able to rely on Vlad if push comes to shove, but that is not likely at all, — Sam starts before coming to a slight pause to think. — Maybe Missouri?

— Why…?

— Cause it’s close by, it’s not like we’d let you get far before going after you. — she smirks and gives his arm a little punch.

—  I think we’d find Danny in Florida, actually, — Tucker chuckles before continuing — it’s the only place where he wouldn’t stand out.

— Oh, screw you. — He says before he lunges at Tucker.

Sam watches for a bit, the conversation got to her more than it did to Tucker. She decides that now isn’t the time to worry about it, she doesn’t think Danny would leave them behind without saying anything, not after all they’ve been through, but it did leave a sour taste in her mouth. To stop herself from spiraling down a rabbit hole, she jumps – literally jumps – into the struggle. 

That is how the three friends end up scratched all over, with dirt and grass stuck to their clothes and silly smiles on their faces, looking up at the sky as the clouds pass by. Moments like this used to be common, but with the chaos that is Amity Park nowadays a chance to just relax and joke around as friends seems more and more like a luxury.

Their peace is interrupted when Danny sighs, a defeated sigh that usually comes after his breath fogs – which means there is a ghost nearby. A shout ruptures the quiet and kills any hopes for the rest of their afternoon.

— BEWARE! I AM THE BOX GHOST!

— Alright, — he gets up and stretches. — Just wait for me, I’ll be back in a sec.

Sam and Tucker look at each other, worried glances on both ends – they didn’t even need to say anything. Things will never go back to the way they were before, that is something all three know intimately. Danny died. Everything they have witnessed is bound to leave some sort of mark as well. And there are the Fentons. Sam and Tucker knew Danny and Jazz loved their parents, but at this point it seemed inevitable that someday they’d turn on Danny, and it seems that even if he doesn’t talk about it, it’s also something he believes.

It feels unfair, Danny seemed to have come from a bad background and was settling into his own skin and fully letting his guard down for what felt like the first time before the accident. And wasn’t that heartbreaking? He’d adjusted to the life in Amity early on, but to actually enjoy himself? That took some 2-3 years, and to trust that he could always rely on the people around him? It had just started happening into the beginning of their ninth grade. Then the portal opened and he had to put some of those walls back up to protect himself, not just emotionally, but physically as well. Now, they’re in 11th grade, they should be looking for colleges and studying for entrance exams, but instead, Danny is thinking of running away.

They know how their friend thinks at this point, and it’s undeniable they’ll likely have to say goodbye soon.

Dealing with the Box Ghost wasn’t hard, but it sure was annoying. After the fight (if you could even call it that) ended he went back to Sam and Tuck, they laid on the grass for a while longer, ultimately, they got hungry and headed to the Nasty Burger and ate before parting ways.

Danny plops face first into his bed. Well… he could have approached that with more subtlety. Maybe it was his subconscious trying to get them to look for him, or something, to prepare them for his absence. That sounds too close to something Jazz would say…

He turns around, putting his arm on his forehead. His thoughts keep getting away from him, always back to Damian – would he have liked Amity Park? Probably not, if he was being honest with himself. He couldn’t even see himself liking it there when he arrived – in fact: He had hated it. The city was so calm it felt forced, the Fentons so loving it felt like a trap, the kids lacked any malice at all, everything screamed danger at him, like he was about to be ambushed. Nothing ever came to that, just a nice, cozy, little town. 

Well, until the portal opened, that is. 

He stops and just looks at his ceiling for a bit, the old glow in the dark stars already discolored and lacking any actual functionality, there was no reason for them to remain there but the attachment to what they used to be, kinda like him. There was no escaping his current reality. No escaping his need to desert this city, this family, this life. 

Danny sits up and looks around his room, which for the last few years had become his safe haven. He looks at the stained carpet, marked by his many sleepovers with Sam and Tuck, he looks at his ceiling fan, that was cracked from the time the trio had tried to recreate the solar system on it, he looks at his closet, his posters, his desk, everything that was proof of the life he had lived here.

He needs some water and something to eat before setting his plan up.

As he heads down the stairs to the first floor he hears his mother’s soft voice coming from the kitchen.

— Oh Jack, I’m so worried about Danny, — the phrase startles Danny, he turns invisible and intangible, floating a bit so as to not make any sound, — his ecto-contamination has only gotten worse over the years… how can we be sure he’s okay?

— Honey, I’m sure Danno is fine! He must be building up resistance!

— But what if… what if it’s fusing to him? What if there’s no reversing this? — His mom is chewing on her lower lip, clearly distressed. 

At the sight, his dad softens up and hugs her, his voice comforting as he speaks, — We’ll make sure he’s fine, Maddie. We might not know what happened, but we know each other and we know what we’re doing, we’re experts in our field. 

Danny can’t stay there anymore, they know he has ecto in his system and they know it’s getting worse. They know and they want to “fix” him. He’s completely and utterly fucked. 

Alongside his nervousness there is also newfound resolve. He quickly phases into his room, grabs his thermos, maybe two shirts and a pair of pants, he shoves it all inside an old backpack he hasn’t used in years. He will need to dispose of his phone, taking anything electronic with him will leave a trail and he can’t have that. Hopefully his parents don’t have his ecto signature yet, he doesn’t think he has the time to get rid of it if they do.

He checks the kitchen again, they aren’t there anymore, likely back in the lab, then. He has to leave through the front door, to not raise any suspicions. Now, how to make this realistic? Maybe he can fake being murdered? No, Amity doesn’t really have that type of violence. Maybe he can fake being a casualty in a ghost attack? But he’d have to damage public spaces to do so and he doesn’t want to endanger anyone else… Fake getting kidnapped? It wouldn’t be the first time it happened, even as a human.

He could also just up and leave. It’s not like Amity has any actual investigative police force… Maybe he’s complicating things too much. He needs to go before he has time to chicken out. His parents will probably make a move on his ecto contamination within the week and he can’t be there for that.

— Bye mom, dad, be back in a bit! — and so, he shuts the door – leaving his house for what will probably be the last time.

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Inevitabilities And Such Unfortunate Things > Those We Leave Behind

AO3

[lasirenatarot]

“ LOOKS-MAXXING ” pick-a-card reading.💝

Your next glow up.

What can you do in order to have a big glow up?

Pick a pink 90s magazine cover:

—>Pile 1

Your next glow up will most likely be related to getting « in peace » with your s€xuality prior to glowing up both physically and mentally. What I mean by this is you will probably need to get rid of any self doubts about your looks, any shame around your $£xual side due to past traumas or for some the way you were raised, some may have been raised in a controlling or conservative family.

One of the ways you can make this glow up happen is if you really enjoy your life and what you do. Try to practice your hobbies more and work on bettering your natural talents, by doing that you may find your purpose in this world and this will lead to the biggest glow up ever.. for some it may lead them to their dream career.

Something which appears in the cards is that you may need to forgive your parents or parental figures for the way they treated you in order to reach peace within yourself and your physical body. Forgive yourself as well for not acting in the « right way » or not looking a certain way, this is the best you could do at that point of your life . It is all in the past.

As for a physical glow up: judging by the pictures shown on the cards that fell, maybe start focusing on a regular work out routine, focusing on legs, butt or whatever you feel like you need to improve. Updating your clothing style may benefit you a lot. Stop caring about what others would say and pick clothes which give you freedom of expression, be yourself shamelessly. Some of you who chose this pile may have some creative vision which they may have been scared to express - do it. Meditation may help with your « glow up » in some form as well. Try bolder makeup looks and outfit choices.

Moodboard/Vibes for pile 1:

The vibes I get from this pile is totally Julia Fox as a persona,not only style wise. She’s unapologetically herself, maybe for some she’s a bit weird. But the main point is, despite people’s opinions and perceptions of her, she has always followed her own rules and expressed herself. Before she got famous she was a dominatrix, did a photobook, an art exhibition aand starred in a famous movie in which her character was inspired by her real life . All this happened because she was authentic,lived her life the way she wanted and followed her heart, exactly what u should do as well,pile 1.

Songs which remind me of this pile’s vibe:

—>Pile 2

Pile 2, you’re going through or will go through a huge transformation.. luck will definitely be on your side and you may find out answers for things which you’ve always wanted to know about. ( it can be pretty much about anything. If we are talkibg about a physical glow up exclusively, you may learn some very good beauty hacks soon. It can be about makeup, diet, exercise, skin care, personal development etc.. this is a general reading so I cannot be exact but whatever your case is it will lead to a HUGE glow up. Two of the cards are talking about some « secret knowledge » so whatever it is it will be significant for you.

This pile is very different from the first one as the glow up that appears here is not just about one or two things in your life or looks, it’s about everything. The things you can do in order to glow up faster, pile2, is maybe start watching makeup tutorials and pay attention to new techniques or products you haven’t heared before, ask people for where they shop they may tell you some secret thrift store with really cool clothes which can uplift your style.. anything which can help you get this « secret knowledge » which appeared in the cards. Another thing I can say for this pile is: focus on manifestation, envision the changes in your looks or life as a whole you would like to have and act accordingly in your 3D universe in order to get to where you want to be. Positive affirmations and subliminals (as in subliminals I mean not the crazy unrealistic ones, but those about self concept, confidence and beauty in general) may also be helpful in your case.

Moodboard/Vibes for pile 2:

The vibes I get here are Fran from “The Nanny” and Maddy from “Euphoria”. Fashionable, bold, colourful. Radiating confidence. Crystals, glitter, sparkle, feathers, bold and colourful makeup, everything of that sort. Do not dim your own light to make someone else feel better about themselves if they are insecure.

Songs which remind me of this pile’s vibe:

—>Pile 3

Pile 3: I think you would definitely be bettering your financial situation sooner than you may have even expected, this may help you get a glow up. You would be able to afford nicer things, skincare, clothes, procedures etc.. If you’re not already on a path to improve your finances, then you would definitely be motivated to start working on this problem soon and be very committed on your mission of « glowing up » in every way possible. Physically, mentally, spiritually even. You will be finding yourself after a long period of feeling lost and unlike your true self.

You would become much more intuitive, confident and cut throat even, you won’t let energy vampires use you as they may have done in the past and this would lead to a more beautiful and healthy version of you, because you would not have to deal with others’ negativity anymore. When it comes to relationships you would not be satisfied with with mediocrity, you will be finally standing your ground and being true to your standards and what you deserve. You will be getting your justice if you’ve been mistreated in the past.

This pile has huuuge « femme fatale » « dark feminine » vibe. This may be the energy you will be channeling after you have your glow up. Doing classic makeup like red lipstick+ black eyeliner, black smokey eyes and nude lips combo might help you channel this energy that i am seeing here better. Wearing colours like: red, black, gold and nude might help you elevate your look. Also wearing jewelry, lace and high heels. Don’t be scared to embrace your « dark side » which you may have ignored in the past in order to fit in with the crowd.

May sound trivial, but follow your intuition and do what makes you happy, it will make you glow in ways which you have not expected..

Moodboard/Vibes for pile 3:

The vibes I’m getting here are as I said in previous paragraphes: femme fatale, dark feminine energy,monica bellucci core type of look/aesthetics..

Songs which remind me of this pile’s vibe:

That was all from today’s PAC. It was a bit different from previous ones and I myself did not expect it to turn out the way it did, but sometimes completely different information pops up in readings because someone needs to hear a certain thing.. Hope you enjoyed it!!

Leave a comment/feedback if it resonated, share and follow for more.

Thank you for reading!

- La Sirena💋

Decks used: ‘$£xual magic’ oracle deck by Lo Scarabeo; ‘Manara’ €rotic tarot deck by Milo Manara/ Lo Scarabeo;

Photos are from pinterest; all credits to their respective owners.

[wolviensabes]

NSFW Alphabet: Mane!Sabretooth

RQ: 'Can I request the NSFW Alphabet for Victor Creed/Sabertooth? Specifically Tyler Mane's version? Love your work btw! 💕' - @im-his-druidess

Warnings: Neutral as possible, the terms of good boy/girl are used and mentions of feminine/masculine bodies are used. Tried to include both while maintaining an open look so anyone of any identity can enjoy, but made it as vague as possible. Also uhh general sex talk, mentions of BDSM and stuff like that lol. Ignore grammar mistakes ty.

A/N: Yess you absolutely can. I did a SFW/NSFW Sabretooth on my other blog, but I sort of left the Sabretooth up for whatever the reader wanted to imagine. For Mane specifically, this will be fun! Mane is my favorite, has been since I saw X-Men 2000. Sooo thrilled to see him again in D&W, even if just for a moment. He looked so good and yummy. I did keep one or two things off my previous list. I hope you enjoy <3

Minors DNI below the cut. 18+

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex):

I see him as being pretty smug, he likes seeing you disheveled and breathless. He lets you lay on his larger body, he relaxes while you splay out completely spent.

He might ask you to get him a beer, even if you're exhausted, a slap to the ass as you wobble to grab one from the fridge. But when you come back he pulls you close and licks your neck. "Good boy/girl...you know how to make me happy...~" he purrs.

While by definition, he doesn't understand the full extent of what aftercare is, he sees that you need it, so he grumbles and bites his tongue, doing it regardless of his own opinion on it.

"Upsy daisy..." he grunts, lifting your exhausted body up, watching you whine. He smirks, knowing he's reduced you to a shaky form, "Ya look like a lamb tryin' to walk for the first time..." he chuckled.

He does try after seeing how badly he fucks you up. He's a big dude so...he really throws you around and you have wounds from his teeth and claws. He can't have his darling lamb all messed up...

He licks your wounds, his saliva has an antiseptic enzyme so it disinfects the wound, however you still insist on using peroxide. "Hold still...gotta clean ya."

He's not the best at it at first, but he will learn what you like and accommodate.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s):

Primal dude is insane about your body. Whether you are more feminine or masculine, he goes nuts for a good ass. He grabs and kneads and squeezes.

If you are more masculine, he likes feeling your chest and trails down your sides, feeling your narrower body.

If you have TS scars, he is gentle with them. He rubs his rough thumbpads over the scars and how they trail over your chest. He's obsessed with them. He thinks you look great, and he licks them a lot, gently and mindfully if you let him. He won't touch them if this bothers you though.

If you are more feminine, he loves your breasts and plush hips. He grips you firmly a lot and loves to see how your skin pools around his big hands and claws.

He also really likes necks, he bites there a lot so be prepared to always have his teeth somewhere on your neck.

Victor is also egotistical as hell, he thinks every inch of himself is perfect. He's proud of his lion's mane and cock size for sure, but also prides himself in his stature.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically):

Victor has an insane amount of cum inside his body, you genuinely don't know how he produces so much. He is like a faucet, just oozing it into you.

He cums like a horse and his amounts are crazy. You are full to the brim and he's still shooting the load, it comes out of you there's so much of it. He jokes about turning you into a twinkie.

He gets so pent up and he snarls a lot, he growls and groans, then when he pounds you and you feel him swell more than usual, you know he's about to release a ton.

It also gets everywhere so...you should always have sheets on standby. You can't count how many times you've lost fancy sheets because his load stains them. You don't bother buying silken bedding anymore.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs):

He doesn't keep a lot from you, simply because he has no shame.

But, he does like scents and smells a lot. He often smells your body in the morning or when you're the most natural. He memorizes it, keeps it in his memory.

He leans down and before he licks or sucks, he inhales deep breaths of your sex. Just the scent alone makes him horny as hell.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?):

He's had his way around, so he's fairly experienced. I don't think anything would surprise him or catch him off guard as 'new.'

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying):

Victor pins you down and uses his strength to fuck you. He likes looking down at you completely helpless while he thrusts his thick cock in and out of whatever hole his dick finds.

Any position where he has you on your belly with your ass in the air for him, he is all over. He likes to bite your neck and hold you down, and he gets to really thrust into you from behind.

He also likes mating press, watching you cry out as he drills the deepest parts of you.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.):

His dirty talk can be funny, or sometimes he will say something out of the blue that just makes you smile because it wasn't expected from him. But otherwise, he's not a goofball. Just the quip every so often.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.):

This guy has a lot of hair. He's insanely hairy, and come on, he's a primal. So, obviously.

He takes great pride in his hair too, he grooms himself a lot. He licks himself mostly, until you push him to a shower and he uses unscented things. He doesn't like to hide his musk.

He has a hairy chest and a happy trail leading down to his pubic hair. He's pretty hairy below too, but he does try to groom a little shorter because he notices you pull out random hairs after sucking him off.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect):

Romantic isn't really his thing. He's not used to being 'romantic' at all. He's more...let me kill something for you and bring you its corpse.

He won't change for anyone. If you can accept his...brutish love habits, then he will attempt to be...less sometimes. On a hunt he drops an animal carcass and hands you a bloody wildflower he ripped from the ground, roots and dirt still attached.

That's as good as it gets. But for him, that's a pretty big gesture.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon):

Yikes. With those claws?

I don't think he does. Not often anyway. He'd rather have you help him out when he needs something.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks):

Sabretooth is pretty damn kinky, he isn't ashamed about any of his sexual desires and is open with you about them.

He obviously loves predator/prey dynamics, he likes to pretend to hunt you in the woods and when he catches you, he fucks you into the mossy ground. It gets his instincts going and he feels like his cock is on fire when he's hunting you. Plus the sex that comes from 'hunting' you is honestly some of the best you've had. Prey pet names for sure.

Breeding is a huge kink for him. He likes making a mess, but he prefers to bury himself into you and fill you up, regardless if you can get pregnant or not. He will pound multiple loads into you and won't stop until you are squirting it out around his cock. This is also applicable if you are male, he doesn't care. As long as he buries himself into you and fills you full.

BDSM is something that's interesting to him, though not every aspect of it. He's a pretty big sadist, so his claws and teeth will definitely mark you up all bloody and you'll be bruised from his hard grip on you thanks to his strength. He'd probably be into impact play, so he'd like to spank you while he's fucking you. He prefers to let himself do the marking rather than a toy. It's more intimate to him.

I think he might find bondage fun just because you'd be completely helpless and it can tie into the whole predator/prey play too. Like a little bunny caught in a snare and he stumbles upon you, helpless to the hungry big cat.

I think he probably would have a thing for housewife type of behavior, things that aren't inherently sexual but can turn him on. So cleaning and cooking, bringing him beer or food while he sits back, I don't know I just have a weird feeling he would be into that.

I also think he'd be interested in CNC. It's something that you'd have to talk heavily about, but I think it would be something he would want to try.

Size difference!! Mane irl is 6'9, so I give Sabretooth a few more inches. Over 7' tall anyway, and he towers over you. Not to mention he's bulked out. Looking down at you, he loves how helpless and vulnerable you are compared to him.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do):

Victor will fuck you anywhere, it doesn't really matter to him.

He likes to do it in his bedroom, his scent gets rubbed into you when you're being thrown around the bed and roll on his bed. Plus, he gets to take his time and fuck the room full of the smell of sex.

He also likes to fuck in the woods. It satisfies his primal desires to take you against the moss in the middle of a thick trail.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going):

As mentioned, typical housewife behavior would turn him on. Cooking and cleaning for him, bringing him a beer while he is sitting down, or even fussing over his clothes would get him going. Seeing you in an apron and nothing else would make him completely feral.

Any kind of submissive behavior would catch his attention. He instinctively looks for anyone who submits, his need and desire to be the dominant person in every situation controls him. So if you are submissive to him, even with simple gestures like obeying an order or just lowering your head around him, it definitely gets him interested.

Submission isn't always sexual, but of course submitting in that way also gets him going.

As written on my previous list, purposefully making yourself vulnerable gets his attention. Cats expose their bellies when they trust you, so rolling on your back and showing him your belly is a big deal. Say you're on the couch and you just lay back, he is intrigued and likes this gesture a lot.

Also any kind of gesture that exposes your neck to him.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs):

Despite being fucking brutal, he wouldn't want to cause any serious harm to you. You'll definitely be wearing claw and bite marks, but nothing that will have lasting damage.

He also won't be interested in 'making love.' He will fuck you, and he'll fuck you good. He's a primal mutant so when he is intimate he goes hard.

Anyone who would try to dominate him would piss him off, and it would trigger his aggression. He would not be receptive to anything like that, especially with his natural instinct to dominate.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.):

Luckily, his tongue isn't covered in sharp spines like usual cat tongues, otherwise that would suck.

He is good with his tongue, he cleans himself all the time so naturally he can move his tongue around in all sorts of ways.

He is somewhat selfish, preferring to receive than give. But when he gives, you feel so much pleasure. His tongue laps and he sucks so good. "Good...let me hear you." he growls against you.

He lovesss seeing you choke on his cock too. "Good boy/girl, choke on it. Is it too big...? Too big for your sweet mouth?" he teases, taking pride in seeing you choke and gag. It just turns him on more.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.):

Best way to describe it is a feral man climbing on you and fucking you until your legs can't hold you up. You literally can't walk when he's done with you, and he fucking loves it.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.):

He'd rather not, just because he likes taking his precious time with you. He likes watching you unwind, watching his thick cock bury into your hole, your wide watery eyes as you cry out and mewl for him.

"That's it little lamb...watch me split you open..." he says deeply, grinning wildly as you fall apart below.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.):

Victor is chill enough to try anything once, as long as he's not the bottom or the one taking it.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?):

Forever. Victor's stamina is crazy high, he can go multiple times without stopping. Even when your body is worn and exhausted to the point of not being able to move, he could fuck you to sleep.

He lasts for a long time, though he can cum many times in one session and not soften.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?):

He doesn't own any for himself. But he has things to use on you for when you want to get more adventurous. Things for BDSM or toys to pleasure you. But he has nothing for his own pleasure.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease):

Victor will tease you until you are crying and begging. He loves to see you desperate, screaming and mewling below him while he whispers in your ear how he could make you cum right now, but he doesn't.

The damn man also gets you so so close...then stops, watching you fall apart and cry. "Shush, I will let you when I am ready...now, let's see how close we can get you..."

"More tears? Now, don't cry pretty thing...maybe if you ask nicely I will let you..."

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.):

Victor is a dirty talker. He is a growler.

He is either snarling and grunting against you, or dirty talking you to your orgasm or so desperate you don't even know what to do. His words are so crude and filthy, you can't help but react. He just has a way with you and knows exactly what you like to hear.

That 'scream for me' that he whispers, UGH. He def whispers in a calm, low voice while he's toying with you.

And when he snarls in your ear, growling in pleasure that you are providing for him, ugh you could cum right then and there.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character):

Victor 100% drinks warm milk, and he usually does after fucking you and you've fallen asleep. He doesn't want to hear your teasing.

Also goes without saying that he purrs.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes):

Victor is a BIG dude. So, obviously his dick is gonna be big. He's definitely a shower, but he grows a bit when erect.

Flaccid, his bulge is already large af, so it can look intimidating before you even get his pants off. His ego always flares up when he sees how you look at his crotch.

Erect he looks near impossible to put into you, but somehow he fits. He's anywhere between 7.5-9 inches. He is girthy too, which is really what you feel when he fucks you.

The first time you saw him erect you were so nervous, in which he found amusing. "Don't worry, sweet little lamb, I'll make it fit."

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?):

He can literally fuck anytime. His drive is super high, especially when he hunts and kills. Those feelings go hand in hand, and since he hunts daily, his sex drive spikes up.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards):

He knocks out pretty quick. A cigar and beer, then he is out. It's like warm milk.

Victor will clean up a little, just enough not to be gross and sticky. Then he sits back and demands asks you to grab him a beer. He downs it, then knocks out.

If you are wounded, aka clawed up, he will watch you while you sleep for a bit and then he will fall asleep. You usually bare new wounds, he honestly can't help it with those damn things, and he watches you limp to grab him a drink, though he will clean and tend to you as a silent apology.

His bed is very soft, it's adorned with furs, pelts, and a thin quilt as the comforter, so you tend to fall asleep fast after cleaning up. Your body needs to recover, and you are throbbing between your legs with soreness.

If you lay on him after, he will run his claws along your back lazily, making you shiver. Knowing those claws to maim and mutilate, but they only graze your skin. It's a strangely gentle gesture that you never reject.

Thanks for reading <3

Dividers by @/strangergraphics