#that he only likes old european pop

[coureirsix]

"LUIS, OPEN THE DOOR— LUIS, I HAVE ASHLEY— WE CAN GET OFF THE ISL— WHEN DID YOU GET STROBES ❓❗❓❗"

[bloop-bl00p]

So there’s Voodoo but no Lwas?

Before everyone decides to jump me just know that I’m black, I grew up in a very Catholic environment and my grandparents implemented African traditions to worship God. Throughout the years of my dear old childhood, I also witnessed cults and beliefs outside of Christianity and know briefly of a few African Deities, spirits, syren, and many more.

So I can talk about voodoo, I still tried to do as much research as possible, and if someone sees any mistakes in what I say I apologize, be polite when pointing it out to me and I’ll modify it.

So here’s the first thing I want to address…

White people can do voodoo… what? You don’t believe me, here…

It’s been done since the 19th in New Orleans and whoever can worship is a much more nuanced issue.

You see in voodoo, there are these things called Houses (Humfo). It’s a temple where a community of people worship diverse Lwa and are led by a priest or priestess.

It’s a closed religion which means that you have to ask before entering one House. Some may refuse you because you have European ancestry, and I won’t lie Voodoo is mainly dominated by people with African origins due to its roots. You still could eventually find a house that’ll accept you but you can’t randomly start on your own without going through the process of initiation. Don’t mess with African spirits or spirits in general, voodoo is a group activity for a reason.

Now that all of this is cleared I want us all to come to one conclusion. Voodoo is only and ONLY for the people who will respect it. This applies to all religions.

And to writers.

Write about what you know and if you don’t know something research it! Don’t stop at Wikipedia, go on other sites, see documentaries or videos, and get books from the nearest library. Maybe you know someone who is more experienced in the subject you’re trying to write about?! I know it can be a long boring and annoying process, but sweetheart who told you writing respectfully about a preexistent thing was easy? If you’re unable to sit and open Google for research then don’t write about it!

Now that we all agree on something, do these scream respectful representation to you?

[“I care about representation!” Sure Viv, we believe you.]

Okay, voodoo dolls aren’t used for harm. That’s a myth from Pop Culture and Hollywood and it’s one of those examples of African religion being deemed as malevolent by popular media. Thank you Vivziepop for contributing to the stereotype, a big thanks. 🙂

Seriously, the usual voodoo dolls we see in media are usually tourist traps sold in New Orleans but aren't used by actual practitioners. But, there’s a thing called fetish or bocio, usually, those are figurines made of wood and hung on the tree in front of cemeteries to maintain a spiritual communication between the deceased and the living.

From a personal experience, when I was like 10 or 11 my parents saw safou (African fruit) growing near a restaurant, and the owner said to not get too close as fetishes were hung to avoid people from stealing the fruits. So it also has a protection function.

But I’m not here to talk about my childhood, see I mentioned something called Lwa, let’s see what those are.

Voodoo is a monotheistic religion, it teaches that Bondye [Bon Dieu in French literally Good God] is the supreme creator of this universe mirroring him to the Christian God. But he has no evil counterparts so no Satan or Lucifer.

Bondye is disinterested in humanity and innacesbile to us, but he still keeps tabs through the Lwas giving a polytheistic aspect of the religion. People pray to them and give specific offerings depending on which Lwas they want to please.

They also can communicate with us through dreams and possessions. All Lwas have multiple domains of expertise and if you want something specific you’ll have to call a specific Lwa.

Each Lwa has a symbol related to them they are called Veve. It helps them manifest in the physical world, offerings, sacrifices, foods, and drinks are placed upon them.

“Where are you going with all of these informations?”

Here are the symbols that appear every time Alastor gets spooky or threatens someone.

These symbols alone don't mean anything but they are drawings that can appear in multiple veve. Veves are usually much more detailed and they used complete ones with little simplification in the Pilot, since it’s still canon I’m counting it…

My little theory is that if they decided to simply it is because the animators were already suffering so they lifted up the pain by sparing a lot of details. I mean they used the complete symbols for trading cards.

With all of these it is natural for me to come to the conclusion that to get his powers Alastor calls on the Lwas that grant these extremely powerful ✨tentacles✨, weird red gremlins voodoo dolls thingies, deals-making abilities, and probably other things we haven’t seen yet.

Which means that Bondye exists—

“Th3r'$ n0 God in HH. 🤓☝️”

Sure I can work with that, the Lwas exist and are independent, I guess Viv still has creative liberties.

Since Alastor depends on them that means that he chooses specific spirits to gain the specific power that he has, so I decided to search for a few symbols that have a resemblance to the one of Alastor and we’re gonna test Viv's ability to make something consistent.

A rant about Alastor’s power:

Obliviously they are not all of the symbols in correlation with the one in Hazbin Hotel. I just took these to showcase something fascinating with Viv’s writing style.

1. Marassa-Dossou-Dossa:

They are androgynous twins. They represent the power and purity of children, families, and procreation alongside benediction, love, justice, and innocence. They are children, usually, you can offer them candies, drinks, or banana leaves. They are summoned at the beginning of each ceremony after Legba to signify their importance in the religion.

The Marassa are extremely powerful despite being represented as kids. They usually help people who have issues with getting a child or other important aspects like the death of a newborn. While they are mostly nice and all, they are responsible for bad luck and bring sickness when not correctly served or forgotten.

2. Damballa:

He is one of the Loa who helped Bondnye when making the cosmos and, you can imagine, a very important figure.

Damballa is represented by a giant snake and is often associated with St Patrick's. He is the keeper of knowledge, wisdom, and healing magic representing the symbol of life, peace, purity, and goodness. His partner is Ayida-Weddo who forms rainbows, together they use the same Veve.

They are extremely strict with rules regarding their ceremonies. Everyone needs to be dressed in freshly cleaned clothing, women need to wear a white headscarf made of silk. Alcohol, nicotine, and else are forbidden when calling upon him.

Damballa doesn't have legs, so during the possession, the possessed will fall and wiggle on the ground like a snake and sometimes hiss.

3. Le Baron Samedi:

He’s the spirit of the dead, resurrection, and the giver of life, it’s him you need to call if you wanna get in touch with your ancestors. He avenges the souls of the dead (witches, those who were wronged, etc, …)

Le Baron Samedi will heal your wounds if you’re willing to pay back, while it’s not his only ability the rest may be considered sinister since he’s a master of black magic and curses. If someone sends you a hex that brings death so long as Le Baron doesn't let you, you won’t die. Oh and you see the Christian Cross, it’s also his symbol.

Le Baron can manifest himself in our physical realm through specific rituals I won’t bother to describe how he presents himself just search his name on Google and look at the image. Despite being married to Maman Brigitte, he is still known for cheating. He’s also openly lewd quick to swear and likes to mess with people with a big ego.

Usually, his followers can be seen wearing black and purple as he favors these colors but it’s not obligatory.

4. Ayizan:

She’s a sweet grandma and protector of commerce. You can see her with a white dress and deep pockets buying groceries in local markets, and she gives candies to children and people who are respectful.

She’s associated with the rites of initiation in the religion, which is a ritual or ceremony to signify when someone passes from one group to another it implies a change of status in the society. (ex: passage of child to adult)

She’s a typical priestess and knows of the many wisdom and mysteries regarding initiation and the natural world. She’s one of the greatest healers of the pantheon and while she doesn't heal physical wounds, she heals psychically offering health.

5. Papa Legba:

He’s the spirit of crossroads, both metaphorical and literally. It’s symbolizes choices and opportunities. He’s also the intermediate between men and the spirit world people said he’s always in front of Houses. Papa Legba is invoked at the beginning of ceremonies to open the way for communication with other sprites and deities. While he’s mostly benevolent, he can be stern and enforce spiritual rules.

Some may also depict him as a fertility God, a tricker, or a protector of children. In Haiti, he facilitates communication, speech, and understanding. Children like him and he’s often asked to babysit.

He’s associated with Saint Peter since this figure also has keys that grant access to an afterlife.

Debrief:

With all of this informations, we can all agree that none of these spirits works with Alastor as there’s mainly associated with what we could consider a positive aspect of spirituality. Alastor isn't really an example of purity, goodness, and else. Plus his powers have no links to any of the–

“But there’s Le Baron Samedi, he does Black Magic.”

That’s true and he’s actually the only Lwa from my list who could potentially work with Al but there are a few issues. Le Baron Samedi messes with people with a big ego, even if Al decided to work with him it would be quite complicated. Add to that Alastor's respect for women, I don’t think he’ll like to work with someone who cheats on his wife.

But let’s actually think of the potential here, making him a tangible entity Alastor could speak to, would have led to interesting character dynamics with Le Baron mocking Alastor and making him rethink his decision every time he tries and acts selfishly. Le Baron Samedi could have been the one slapping Mister Deer Boy to reality.

Personally, I think it would have been cool to add hints of the partnership by making Alastor’s suit black or giving him purple accessories but Viv's palette of colors is unfortunately very limited to the same shade of red.

“You only listen to 5 deities that appear to be popular, maybe somewhere there’s actually a Lwa that is working with Alastor and you simply didn't choose to show it to us.”

There’s actually one spirit I can think of. Bakoulou Baka, I did not find pictures of his veve unfortunately.

What I can say about him is that he grants powers and wealth. But since he’s associated with dark energy, those things are finite and you’re royally fucked if you don’t repay him in time. He is so evil that people are scared of calling upon him.

Baka in general is a term used to refer to spirits willing to deal with very powerful sorcerers. They pretty much will do anything only if the price is right, they are malevolent spirits who’ll turn on you if you don't do your part of the deal.

Alastor was mentioned to be stuck in a deal, it would be a great twist if the one who got him in this situation was an Evil Lwa he underestimated and failed to repay when he was alive. But we know Vivziepop that won’t be the case.

“You’re too harsh on her those will be obliviously mentioned in season 2.”

Think back to all of the things I said in this post, the different terms like House, initiation, Lwa even the word Voodoo itself, are they even mentioned ONCE in the show? Did Vivziepop make an effort in the FOUR YEARS of production to include them? Did she make the slightest bit of effort to make sure that the new audience knows that Alastor practices voodoo?!! Even by watching the pilot you can’t tell it’s mentioned once fastly by Charlie AS A JOKE.

“IT’$ h@rD t0 Do that.”

Yeah, writing is hard you have to deal with it. And be for real, there’s a scene where Vaggie enters Alastor’s room and sees him eating a deer, rather than see him in the middle of breakfast that could have gone like that:

“What the hell are you going?

– Just a few offerings to keep the Lwas happy.”

Smart people would have been like “What What the hell is a Lwa?” They would have searched it on Google, and Bam people know Al does voodoo.

“But th3 szeN3 w@s to sh0w h3 was a canibal.”

We’re talking of the same guy whose bestie is the cannibal queen, when Rosie proposed fingers to Charlie he could have accepted it. Good now the audience knows he’s a cannibal too, yay!

Religion is an important aspect of characters as it explains most of their behavior. That’s the type of thing you introduce in the first seasons then expand on the second.

And we’re talking of the same show where Husk looked at the screen and told us each of the main character archetypes. I’m surprised Alastor hasn't been called Voodoo Man or something.

I thought of those rewritten scenes in the span of two minutes and you’re telling me Viv couldn't in four years?!

“But HH is b@seD 0n B|blic@l t3xt. Voodoo |s DifeREnt. 🤓☝️”

Are you aware Voodoo is essentially a very big salad of multiple beliefs mixed together rights? You know that one of them is Christianity right?! Some Lwas are associated with Saint, so nothing prevented Viv from making a new class in Heaven called Lwa whose job is to assist the Saints in their task.

When Charlie and Vaggie presented themselves in front of the gates, Saint Peter could have been the one holding the keys and Papa Legba would have been the one reading the book to know who was entering or not.

With the bare minimum in terms of research (1 week), I managed to think of quick easy but effective ways to implement voodoo in the Hellaverse in the span of 2 poor minutes. So why can’t Vivziepop do this when she had FOUR YEARS?!!

Or maybe it’s just that… she doesn't care.

She doesn't care

You need to have a very VERY blatant lack of care for the source material to present voodoo the way Vivziepop did it. Every time the veve appears around Alastor it’s to communicate one thing danger and threat, it’s a harmful stereotype that needs to end people pointed it out she refused to listen.

And it’s because of this lack of respect that bullshit like these happen in her fandom.

Alongside this, you can count the many comics of Alastor using voodoo dolls to hurt/control someone. I’m not blaming any of these fans, I’m blaming Vivienne Medrano for feeding such harmful ideas about the community and not making it clear enough that those symbols are part of a rich culture that people hold dear to their hearts and NOT A FUCKING AESTHETIC

You want an actual example of respect for foreign beliefs?

In the movie Exhuma, the main characters are a shaman and a geomancer, obliviously those who worked on the movie took creative liberties regarding shamanism in Koran culture BUT they actually called a Shaman. There’s a scene where one of the main characters is supposed to do rituals, the actors learn an actual choreography and do it as accurately as possible the shaman was there to supervise everything from beginning to ends.

All I’m asking is for Vivziepop to open Google and do a deep dive. It’s like a school presentation, you sacrifice at least 2 or 3 hours of your days to research your subject, and she had 4 years to do that a little bit of everyday.

Noo it’s too complicated apparently and come on look at these beautiful veve! It’s edgy if I draw them with red on a dark background they look EeViiiIil.

I said it I said it again, if you’re not willing to research as much information about a preexisting subject.

Don’t write about it.

If you don’t have a little bit amount of respect for a religion and care about representing them properly.

Don’t write about it.

Don’t be like Vivziepop.

[sleepinghypnos]

The Creed...

Chapter 1 - Penthouse

Genre: Smut

Tags: F/M, F/F/M, F/F/F/M, Facefuck, Throatfucking Rough Sex, Dirty Talk, Harem, Self-degradation, Masochism/Sadism(?), Cum Play, Piss Play

(The things in the tags will be present when the time needs for it.)

Disclaimer: This work is a fan-fiction and does not depict the person/people mentioned in the story.

A/N: You can self-insert if you want...

--

Bzzt! Bzzt! Bzzt!

"What is it? I'm preoccupied, so make it quick." Vlad answered the call.

"Fine. Just send them to my house... but I will not be responsible if something happens to them." He replied with his slightly deep voice and end the call.

*Silenced Gunshot*

"Blame your competitor, not me." Vlad immediately packed up his sniper rifle and fled the scene while remembering what one of his close associates in the entertainment industry said few moments ago, he begged him to accommodate a number of female K-pop idols for the purpose of strengthening the bond between idols through a experimental project wherein they live together as Tenants, cameras will not be present just them living together and at the end of their time as tenants they will do an interview regarding the way of life living with other k-pop idols aside from their respective members. In this way, the fandoms of each k-pop group will stop fighting over trivial things on the internet and support other idols.

Vladimir Creed was a 26 year old Half-European and Half-American man. His parents died in a car accident when he was still a child and only his grandfather is his only family left. He's living a lavish lifestyle full of money, expensive cars and women...

His family or more like his grandfather founded a huge company in America and owns many stocks in the entertainment industry in Korea and since Vlad is not someone who actively makes himself noticeable or well-known, he parties without revealing his true identity to anyone with a few exception of course, he has few actual friends and all of them are also young masters of their own families just like he was and he rarely expresses his emotions so he has a hard time managing it.

In his typical days, he spends most of his time just relaxing in his penthouse, in which he bought himself with his own money. though it may seem strange since he parties every chance he get, he has a very unique talent and that is being a hired gun that even his grandfather didn't know.

And while relaxing, he usually goes naked after a shower because there is no one in the house, It's is personal space after all. His maids and butlers will only come if they were asked for and he cooks for himself.

His penthouse is in a small island near the coast and there is only one bridge connected to it. So, guests who'll visit the island can use the bridge without the need of boats.

...

Vlad arrived at his house but welcomed by cars parked near the main gate. "What the fuck is this?" He said to himself, he got out of his car to check what's going on then he remembered Eunseok, one of his close associates said few hours ago. "Now it makes."

Then he called one of the guards to let him pass, and so they did. He drove and the people blocking the path dispersed and he got in smoothly.

"Let them in, they are going to live here indefinitely." Vlad announced to the guards and went inside to change.

Most of the people outside the penthouse are already inside the living area, he saw the k-pop idols waiting for the master of the house.

"I'm Vladimir Creed, but you can call me Vlad. I'm the owner of this house, my friend already told me what you guys are going to do. So feel free live here." and he looked at managers of each of the group "There are places in the house that is not available, I don't care if they used the swimming pool, drink at the bar." Pointing at the wet bar near the kitchen. "Or anything, but, all of third floor is off limits because that's where my room is located."

The producer nodded and introduce the idols that will be living with him in the house.

He extended his hand for a handshake to ITZY's Yuna and Ryujin, Aespa's Karina and Winter, (G)-Idle's Soyeon and Miyeon, Red Velvet's Irene, Seulgi, and Joy, and Twice's Sana, Mina, and Nayeon which they received with a smile.

--

One day has passed, the girls are eating lunch in the long refectory table since they woke up late just like Vlad was and the maids and butlers were there to assist them.

After lunch, the Red Velvet and Twice members were gathered in the backyard, enjoying a beautiful sunny day by the pool. They were relaxing and chatting about their recent performances, when they suddenly heard a splash from the pool.

Curious, they all turned to see Nayeon filling up a water gun and aimed at them. Panic set in as they scream and run around the pool to avoid getting wet since they just want to enjoy the sun.

Running made them exhausted and they decided to have a friendly water fight. Joy and Seulgi teamed up against Sana and Mina, Nayeon and Irene. Laughter and screams filled the air as they chased each other around the pool, trying to get each other wet

In the living room, Ryujin and Karina were sharing a bucket of ice cream while watching a romantic K-drama. They were joined by Soyeon and Miyeon, who couldn't resist the delicious smell of the popcorn. They all cuddled under a blanket, enjoying the show and teasing each other about their favorite characters. Yuna and Winter are busy doing some tiktok challenge.

As the sun set, the members of ITZY, Aespa, and (G)-Idle joined their sun-kissed Seniors in the pool. They all gathered around the pool, sharing stories, and having a heart-to-heart conversation. For a moment, the backyard was filled with the sound of their laughter and friendship.

As the night came, they all gathered in the living room to watch a movie together. They munched on some snacks and cuddled on the couch, enjoying their time together. It was a perfect day off for all of them, a day filled with laughter, bonding, and memories that they will cherish forever.

Karina asked the butler where Vlad was and she was led to the study where he spends time if he's not doing anything.

When Karina entered the study, she was met with a tall, imposing figure staring at her from behind a large oak desk. Vlad's dark hair was slicked back, and he exuded a sense of power and mystery. Karina couldn't help but feel a pull towards him, she already know that this man is handsome the moment she land her eyes on him earlier in the morning.

"Um, Sir? I just want to asked if we can have some of the liquor in the wet bar." She asked while slowly approaching him.

"Didn't I told you girls that you can do whatever you want with the wet bar?" He answered and walked to towards her. "And you're asking me when you already half drunk."

Karina got embarrassed but it faded when a faint smile appeared on Vlad's lips, she was mesmerized. "Are you sure that's the reason why you're here?" he was close to her, Karina needs to look up just to meet his eyes.

Karina pulls him for a kiss and reciprocated it with the same intensity. It started as vanilla kissing until in turns into something like animals in heat and eventually began to make out with insane passion. Vlad grab her waist to pull her closer, her hands were hugging his neck.

He noticed she wanted more and so he obliged and brought one hand to feel up her breasts which made Karina moan between their kisses.

Their kiss was passionate, Vlad keeping her in his arms while she let herself be consumed by him. It lasted for few minutes until they both stopped quietly staring at each other.

"D-did you like it?" Karina said while catching her breathe.

"I did, your lips are sweet with a hint of whiskey... you really were half drunk." Brushing his thumb on her lips. "Want me to lead this time?" he asked her while caressing her face.

"Yes, please." Karina said.

“Do you think could handle it?” Vlad responded seemingly showing concern.

Karina nodded. “I did have my own few boyfriends before...”

“I won't doubt it but... I get rough. Really rough. I'm sure it's something you haven't experience before..."

“You are worrying about me and that's sweet but I think I'm gonna be fine... please don't hold back and just give it to me.” She said while making a serious face.

Vlad's hand roam towards her neck and stayed there and slowly gripping it. Her cunt throb as they kiss again and slowly stripping each other’s clothes off, his hands still in her neck slightly choking her.

As their bodies got liberated from their clothing, Vlad immediately attacks Karina's big breasts making her moan, her hands couldn't resist to push his head closer. His other hand goes to Karina's precious treasure and starts invading it.

"This fucking slutty tits of yours keeps leering people on." Vlad said while groping her breasts and assaulting them with his tongue...

"Fuck! Yes! It feels good, sir." Karina said.

Which made Vlad riled up even more. "Sir?" He stopped groping her breast.

"You don't like being called like that? I'll change it." She said while pleading to continue to pleasure her.

He doesn't like getting called Daddy/Oppa. The women he's been with keeps calling him that and he got bored by it, now he prefers to called by his name but this time around is different.

Sir? of all the things that someone can be called... Sir is the one getting him riled up.

"No, keep it that way... now get on your knees whore." Vlad said with a commanding aura. “I’m going to use your mouth as a fleshlight. Pull my cock out.”

Karina didn't expect the monster hiding beneath his pants. She could see the bulge of his massive cock. Now she knows why he said 'Something she haven't experience before.' because it's true. He is much bigger than the guys she's been with. So much bigger. She feels hotter and hotter than usual.

Vlad's dick stands proud at 10 inches and is almost girthy as a water bottle.

“You are so massive, fucking massive!” Karina said as she freed his cock and hit her in the face. She stare at his huge member mesmerized by it.

“My god! Why are you so big? Can you even use this?” She said as she grabbed his cock with with both hands. "And you're going to use my mouth with this thing?"

"What? Are you scared? I told you I'm rough and I mean it." He said seriously. "You are going to take every inch of my cock in your throat whether you like it or not."

Karina got nervous but her lust towards him is much heavier.

She showered his cock with kisses, admiring every inch, as if she's worshipping his massive member.

"Suck it." And she did, she gives him a slow and sensual blowjob, keeping her eyes on him.

"You came in her just to do that?"

“What do you mean, Sir?”

He grabbed her by the hair she opened her mouth and swallowed as much of him as she possibly could.

COUGH COUGH COUGH

Relaxing her throat as she let his girthy cock push through her throat. She struggled for a minute and he's watching her giving herself to him.

Vlad guides her and she bobbed her head up and down to see how deep she could take him over and over and over again. Her eyes were tearing up, saliva dripping down as she takes his girthy cock in her throat.

She taps his legs but Vlad ignored her protests and stayed in her throat. "I told you, I'm rough... you don't know what you get yourself into."

He is fucking her throat with reckless abandon and not caring if she can still breathe. Few seconds more and he let go and she breathe hastily. "Sh-shit! I almost passed out." She coughs. "Fuck!"

"Just accept your role as my slut from now on." He slaps her face with his massive heavy cock.

He forced his cock back into her throat. She gives in, letting this man use her mouth and throat as a fleshlight. Her eyes were rolled back into her head.

GLUCK GLUCK GLUCK GLUCK GLUCK

Her moaning and gagging sounds filled the study, the moonlight touches her silky white skin enhancing her beauty further while her throat is getting violated. Even though she already accepted her fate, she still needs to breathe and she tried to struggle for air but failed.

“MMMPPHKKKK!” She resists and got ignored.

“Just stay there, don't regret your decisions now.” Vlad said and spent another three seconds before letting Karina go.

She chokes and gags even though she's already freed from that monster of a cock. “Did I... do a good job, Sir?” She asked noticeably exhausted. She then received another batch of throatfucking and this time, it's much easier but it still hurts.

GLUCK GLUCK GLUCK GLUCK GLUCK

She's taking it like a good little slut, moaning and groaning every time Vlad thrusts too deep in her throat. Karina became accustomed to the massive rod destroying her tight throat and she slowly but surely loving the way he manhandle her without any care about her well-being.

"I'm cumming you little slut!" He said and starts speeding up in his assaults. After all of this, he gave her some leeway and pull his cock out of her mouth. "Want to drink it?"

“YES! T-thank you, feed me your c-cum! Please sir, I'm begging you!!!” She said before he shoved his cock back into her mouth again.

Vlad reached his climax and poured it all in Karina's throat, he releases an obscene amount of cum like he's been holding it for long while. She willingly swallow every bit of it. Few ropes of his cum left in her mouth, she put on a show by gurgling, swirling her tongue cover of his cum then swallowing it.

“Oh my god... fucking hell... that was heavenly!” She said as she crawled over to him and started to lick his shaft cleaning it. “I need to be treated like that again, Sir. Please! You are right, I never experienced that before..”

"Oh, That's only the beginning little slut." He said while grabbing her in the neck and pulling her up.

A/N: Another Series that I might abandon but... oh well. I planned on doing the Bodyguard EP. 6 but idk when to actually do it.

[12woso12]

Angry Woman

Part 1

TW: Does have some very heavy topics so look after yourselves and don't read if you don't want to

You were 21 years old and completely new to London. Having grown up in the North of England, everything felt backwards...including Arsenal. At 15 you were Manchester United's wonder kid. You were scoring goals for the senior team at a rate that no teenager had managed before.

The day of your 18th birthday you captained the U21 Lionesses in a European final and scored the winning goal. And at 19 you made your senior Lionesses debut.

Defenders hated you.

Forwards wanted to be you.

And your fans?

Well, you weren't sure if they wanted to be you, screw you or take you out for coffee. You were on the front page of every newspaper in the UK, whether you were modelling, showing off your football prowess or caught in public with your popstar boyfriend, the public rarely ever escaped your face.

When you made the shocking transfer from Manchester United to Arsenal, the entire footballing world halted in its tracks. You were United's star pupil, if fans were shocked at Alessia's transfer, then they were in utter disbelief at yours.

You would have died for United.

You walked through hell to wear that red shirt every week.

Literal hell.

From the outside you were golden. Everything about you shone passion and potential, you were praised at each turn, awarded with each goal or neat piece of trickery. The only thing missing from your game was an ability to control your temper. It wasn't as if you were a mean person, you wouldn't hurt people maliciously. You just...lost control.

The media gave you some lenience when it came to your rage. The tabloids blamed it on your unstable childhood, bouncing around foster home to foster home with no real family to call your own. Pundits could be a little harsher on you, the older you got the more they would criticise your inability to reign in your rage on the pitch. It had been okay when you were a hormonal teenager, but now at the ripe old age of 21, you were picking up a lot of heat for it.

You never really bothered to listen to the voices outside your bubble at United. Sure, you were a little more enthusiastic on the pitch than was acceptable but it was your only outlet. Football was your only source of therapy, your only way of forgetting what was going on away from the pitch.

Your anger didn't come from your fucked childhood.

It didn't originate from a dead family or a famous boyfriend who snuck around behind your back.

Your anger came from a place much darker.

Hell.

To you, United behind closed doors was hell.

It started the moment you begun to get senior minutes at United. You were barely 15 and still wore thick braces, the kind of braces you would see the high school nerd get bullied for in American coming of age movies. Looking back, that's what confused you most. How could someone like that be so interested in someone like you?

He was a god. A saviour. A husband. A father.

David Coben was 45 years old when he first touched you. And he was 51 when you finally stood up to him. He used to tell you that you were special, that you wanted him to touch you, to do things to you that no one had done before. He prayed on a vulnerable girl with no family to protect her. At first you screamed and cried and tried your hardest to avoid him... but he never failed to find you. Whether it was in a private corridor after a match or in the isolation of your hotel room on away days. David Coben always found you. And worst of all, he always got what he wanted.

If you refused, he'd tear up your contract with United himself, that's what he told you. And at 15 years old without having built a strong name for yourself it seemed impossible to leave United for something more successful.

So, you stayed.

And you told no one.

You became a star, a constant talking point in woman's football. Your fame shot to new heights when you started to date a pop star and that's when the modelling jobs began to pour in.

And suddenly, you were rolling in money.

But you still took everything that David gave to you. And then you took it out onto the pitch and gave the world a new talent to obsess over. The older you grew, your game became better but your anger became near catastrophic. It wasn't until you finished a season with 5 red cards and a serious telling off from Sarina Wiegman at your latest England camp that you decided enough was enough. You couldn't do it anymore. You had to say no.

That's when you moved to Arsenal.

[kirbysdreamlandd]

Hiii here's one idea based on the Barnyard Eclipse Mukbang!!!

Martin has a cousin form Croatia that is visiting Canada

She gets introduced to the gang (Mandy and Hamzah) and also the slushys

They all go together to the farm to see the eclipse

Mandy n Martin get one cabin and Hamzah n Y/N another… the whole one bed trope happens 😳

They end up cuddling while talking before sleeping - in the middle of the night he gets awkwardly HARD against her and the smut comes in!!! *cabin fever*🤭

Maybe we should keep it canon that he is a hardcore virgin?!🤨

love ur writing♥️

Barnyard Eclipse Mukbang

Hamzah X Y/N (Fem)

word count: 4k - longer than I expected lol, let me know if you want a pt. 2!!

After spending your whole life in Croatia, the European life was getting boring. You’d often caught yourself daydreaming about a change, about traveling somewhere new, somewhere out of the continent.

The last time your cousins visited, they couldn’t stop bragging about their Canadian life. Martin, in particular, was insufferable with his talk about his YouTube channel. He went on and on about “Slushy Noobz” and how his videos with his friend, Hamzah, were getting more and more attention. But as annoying as his boasting was, it kind of influenced you in a way.

So, when Martin randomly offered to fly you out to Toronto, you didn’t even think twice. The idea of leaving everything familiar behind, even just for a little while was too tempting to pass up.

The moment you spotted the signs written in English and French, it finally settled in: You had just flown a full 12 hours from Croatia to Canada to visit your cousin and his girlfriend.

By the time you checked into your hotel and began to unpack, your phone buzzed with a text from Martin.

Ah, right.

You’d completely forgotten that you agreed to be in one of Martin’s next vlogs. His pitch being “You’re just as stupid as us, the Slushies are gonna love you!”. And somehow, in a moment of weakness you’d said yes.

But what Martin hadn’t mentioned was that he’d booked an Airbnb for everyone to stay in. You sighed, staring at your neatly unpacked suitcase. Tomorrow’s paid-for room was now destined to sit empty while you stayed with your cousin and his friends in whatever far countryside of Ontario he deemed “So Eclipse mukbang coded”.

Oh well. It wasn’t like you were a stranger to making videos. Back when you were both kids, you and Martin used to make YouTube videos together sneaked away into your rooms during family gatherings. They were the kind of chaotic nonsense only 10 to 12-year-olds could conjure up, that’s why years later that channel was wiped off the website, never to be seen again.

Just as you were coming to terms with the Airbnb situation, another text from Martin popped up on your phone. He casually mentioned that Mandy and Hamzah would be joining and that “for the sake of the bit” Martin and Hamzah were gonna share a queen-sized bed while you and Mandy would have to do the same. You sighed, setting your phone down before diving onto the hotel room’s neatly-made bed.

As much as you tried to downplay it, you always enjoyed Martin’s company. Sure, he could be overwhelming at times, but dealing with his shenanigans was mostly fun. The two of you had a sense of unbounded silliness that you shared with no one else. While you usually kept that side of yourself hidden around most people, Martin always brought it out of you. With him, you didn’t feel the need to filter your humor or tone down yourself. It was an unspoken agreement between you two. A family bond of sorts.

-

The next day you met in Martin’s car, which was oddly being driven by his friend Hamzah, and you squeezed into the backseat.

“Hi, Y/N. I’m Hamzah.” The brunette said looking at you through the rear view mirror, his thin glasses reflecting your face as you awkwardly waved in response.

From Martin’s description and based on his usual group of friends, you had expected Hamzah to be just as obnoxious. But, to your surprise, he gave off a surprisingly calm vibe. His polite introduction almost catching off guard.

“Yeah. He’s my other half” Martin chimed in grinning as he reached a hand on Hamzah’s thigh only for it to be quickly swatted away.

The two eventually started recording. After a series of exaggerated pouts and baby voices from your cousin, Martin’s girlfriend was reluctantly handed the camera, clearly giving in just to put an end to the obscenity of Martin’s pleads.

As they started talking, you noticed a subtle shift in Hamzah’s demeanor. His voice took on a slightly higher pitch, and he became noticeably more talkative. You understood the concept of putting on a persona, but you couldn’t help but wonder if, deep down, he was just as silly as you and Martin, if his videos made his truest self come out.

“So, you’re probably wondering who this is,” Mandy said as the camera flipped to face you. You froze, giving it an awkward deer-in-the-headlights stare.

“And yes, guys,” Martin interrupted from the backseat, leaning into the frame, “She is my girlfriend.”

Mandy gasped, swiveling the camera to capture Martin’s overly confident smirk, which faded fast under her glare. The whole car was quickly filled with an awkward atmosphere until Hamzah broke the silence with a stifled laugh.

“She’s your cousin, Martin, oh my god” She complained, panning the camera back to you with a defeated look on her face as though she was considering being single again. You scrunched your nose back to her, as a way of giving her your condolences.

“I’m Y/N. Martin’s cousin,” You introduced yourself, giving the camera a deadpan look. “And yes, I am unfortunately related to him.”

From the driver’s seat, Hamzah let out a low chuckle. You caught his amused glance in the rearview mirror. You spotted Martin’s pouting at the camera from the corner of your eye.

“So guys,” Martin cut in, clapping his hands together, reverting the audience’s attention back to him. “Right now, we’re on our way to the Airbnb—”

“—Brokeback Mountain Airbnb.” Hamzah interjected dryly, eyes on the road.

“The Brokeback Mountain Airbnb— where we’ll be both sleeping together in the same bed!” Your cousin announced with way too much enthusiasm to the camera. Mandy groaned audibly, leaning back to create as much distance as possible between herself and the camera.

As the drive neared its end, the car turned onto a quiet gravel road. Up ahead, a cozy lodge came into view, the air carrying a blend of woodsmoke and the earthy scent of barn animals, reminding you of the rustic surroundings.

Approaching the entrance of the house, Hamzah pulled out his phone to text the owner.

“Jesus, there’s barely any signal.”

“Hey, get off your phone,” Martin said, his voice teasing. Mandy pointed the camera at him, capturing his exaggerated performance. “Enjoy nature, man.” he added, spinning around dramatically in the air.

That’s when Mandy stopped the recording as Hamzah, too focused on trying to find a way to access the Airbnb, didn’t bother to pay attention to Martin’s antics.

“I don’t know about you, but I’m starving,” Hamzah muttered after a while, tucking his phone away into his pocket. “I guess we could just start eating.”

You left Hamzah and Martin as they wandered toward two stray chairs they’d found just outside the farm. The camera, Popeyes chicken, and those stupid eclipse glasses in hand.

You and Mandy had agreed to avoid participating in the mukbang and eat in the car earlier. Maybe it was a bit out of spite: you couldn’t help it as the guys stared at you with hunger in their eyes while you devoured your chicken, still insisting they were gonna have to wait until they get to the Airbnb to start the “Mukbang”.

You realized you and Mandy got along better than expected—your shared love for animals and the casual shit-talking behind the guys’ backs bonding you. As you left the kids to play, you decided to take a stroll around the farm, bumping into a tall man with leather gloves and a broom in hand. He introduced himself as the owner and, much to your delight, offered to show you the barn animals. You told him you’d wait for the guys to catch up, and he handed you the house keys before walking off. Both of you giggled at the thought him encountering the two guys hunched over their chicken in the middle of his yard while filming a YouTube video.

Once inside the house, you and Mandy headed to the first bedroom you found. The room was cozy, with a large bed and a homely vibe you both loved. You tossed your bags on the bed and settled in, chatting and making yourselves comfortable.

But as the two of you were discussing about how much money adopting an alpaca would cost you, Mandy began sneezing more and more frequently. She sniffled, rubbed her nose, and you noticed her eyes started to water.

“Mandy, you okay?”

“I don’t know. I might be allergic to something here,” she replied, her voice a bit stuffy. “My throat is itching.”

You looked around, trying to figure out what could be causing the problem. That’s when your eyes landed on the large framed picture above the bed. It was a beautiful floral arrangement, but those colorful flowers were as beautiful as they looked like they were likely to cause an allergic reaction.

“Are you allergic to some type of flower?” you said, pointing above you. “It might be that frame over there.”

Mandy sneezed again, looking miserable. “Ugh, this is so bad.”

Without wasting any time, you helped Mandy pack up her things. “Come on, let’s change rooms.”

You grabbed the keys and led her out, making your way to the second cabin. The other bedroom was much more spacious, you realized it was probably the one the guys booked for themselves to sleep in.

“Oh well. They’re gonna have to take the floral one” You said as you set you things to the side of the bed, taking a seat on the colorful bedsheets. Mandy thanked you, while she got remaining sniffles out with the tissues you gave her.

You were both laying flat on the bed relaxing when the light reflecting into the room began to dim, Mandy tilted her head, noticing it too. Curious, you stood up from the bed and walked over to the window. Peering out, you spotted the two guys who had brought you here, standing behind a camera and exclaiming excitedly at the sky.

“They grow up so fast.” Mandy commented, her eyes darting over the two figures in the distance before walking over to the opposite window, her phone propped up to take a picture of the eclipse happening in front of her.

“Careful, you’re looking at it with no glasses on” you teased, mimicking Martin’s exaggerated tone. Mandy responded with her usual deadpan stare that she usually reserved for your cousin.

Once she finished taking her pictures, you both decided to step out and meet up with the guys. The sky was already fading back to normal as they wrapped up their mukbang. The chairs were deserted, but Martin and Hamzah were still nearby, camera in hand.

“Did you see that, Mandy?” Martin called out enthusiastically walking toward you, his glasses still on, making him look as ridiculous as it was the over-excited energy he greeted his girlfriend with.

“That was actually beautiful, man” Hamzah added, carrying empty Popeyes boxes and a tripod with ease as he started heading back toward the cabins with the rest of you.

You filled them in about the allergy situation, and they quickly agreed to switch rooms. Martin made sure to announce the plan to the viewers, turning the camera back on.

“Okay, so, we got a smaller room for us,” Martin narrated, zooming in on the bed before panning to Hamzah’s unimpressed expression as he scanned the space. “But that’s okay. It’ll bring us even clos—”

His words were abruptly cut off by the anticipation of a loud sneeze, his left hand flying up to his nose as he sniffled. “Damn, big-ass sneeze” Hamzah teased, taking the camera from Martin so he could grab a tissue.

But the sneezing didn’t stop. Each sniffle grew louder and slimier, making Hamzah let out an audible “eugh” as he watched his friend’s mucus drip onto the tissue.

“God, I might be allergic to lilies too” Martin joked weakly, before Mandy demanded he evacuated the cabin. After stepping outside for a while, Martin’s sneezes started to ease, confirming your and Mandy’s suspicions.

“Aw, we’re united by allergies too!” Martin said dramatically, wrapping his arms around Mandy, who, despite being restrained by his hug, let a tiny smirk slip across her usual stoic face.

“Shit, this is complicated,” Hamzah muttered, sighing as he gestured toward you and Mandy“We can’t switch rooms with you again.”

He bit his bottom lip, frowning in frustration, before glancing at you. Silence stretched on as you and Hamzah shared an awkward stare-off, both silently acknowledging the inconvenient situation.

“I’m sorry,” Mandy gave you both an apologetic look as she wiggled out of Martin’s restraint “We could ask for the flowers to get removed…”

But that last sentence hung in the air, heavy with a shared hesitance among all of you.

“It’s fine” You and Hamzah both said at the same time, voices overlapping in different paces but carrying the same tension.

Mandy and Martin didn’t seem to have any objections, leaving you and Hamzah to share a one-bed room.

In the quiet of your cabin, an unspoken tension between you and Hamzah grew as you were settling into the once-again changed room. Even when you were doing something as simple as unpacking your belongings, every movement seemed amplified, making you both extremely aware of each other’s presence. Hamzah glanced over, clearly trying to keep things casual.

“You good with that side?” he asked, motioning to the bed as he set his phone and retainer on the nightstand.

“Oh, yeah.” you replied, hoping your voice sounded steadier than you felt. You busied yourself with unpacking your pajamas, desperately avoiding his gaze.

Rummaging sounds came from his side as he fought with the zipper of his backpack, his voice breaking the silence again.

“This your first time in Canada?”

“Yeah,” you said, glancing over at him while you finished setting your things on the small wooden vanity. “First time anywhere outside Europe, kinda nervous.”

Hamzah shared a laugh with you, his shoulders easing as the tension in his chest seemed to slowly settle.

“Well, welcome to America, I guess. Though, as an immigrant, I’d advise you to go back when you still have the choice.” Hamzah’s tone remained the same, the last serious remark slipping out with a half-smile, as if it hadn’t been meant to land too heavily.

His hands fumbled with the things in his backpack, pulling out a crumpled receipt and some loose papers before setting it aside with a quick motion.

He then got up and walked around the bed over to your side, stopping in front of the door, something small clutched in his hands. He reached into his pocket, pulling out a pack of cigarettes but stopping to turn towards you.

“Wanna come outside?” he asked, his gaze catching yours, what seemed like a lighter being shuffled around in hand. His dark eyes lingered a bit, scanning over your face a couple of times, as if searching for something or perhaps just your reaction.

“Sure” you said, your voice steady despite the sudden rush of the moment. Without thinking, you dropped your things, completely unaware that you had left your phone behind.

You followed Hamzah outside, your gaze fixed on the back of his head, as if trying to figure out what was going on in his mind. The air outside was cool, and the silence between you both felt oddly comfortable.

You found a bench just outside the cabin, the stone wall behind it covered in vines and delicate flowers that made it look like it was straight out of a fairytail. But as Hamzah lit his cigarette, and cloud of smoke curled up into the air, you were pulled out of that very magical feeling.

“Want one?” Hamzah asked, catching your gaze on his cigarette.

You shook your head. “No, thanks,” you replied, your voice almost reflexive.

For a moment, you hesitated, a thought almost slipping from your lips. You were about to say “I stopped that years ago” but quickly shut the thought down. It felt like the kind of thing that might open up a conversation you didn’t feel right to have in that moment. Instead, you let the silence stretch a bit longer, the smoke hanging filling the air you two were sharing.

The sky had softened into deep blue hues, casting everything in muted shadows. Hamzah’s sharp features caught the soft glow of the unfolding moon, you watched the spirals of smoke blown out of his lips drift upward before dissolving into the night.

“I thought I finally stopped, you know,”Hamzah’s low voice broke the silence, a chuckle escaping mid-sentence.

You glanced over at him. He was already looking at you, though his gaze seemed to falter, as if he hadn’t meant to get caught. The cigarette dangled between his fingers, its ash tumbling to the ground below.

“Still, I carry a pack in my backpack,” he admitted, his tone hollow. “Guess I’m not stopping anytime soon.”

A humorless chuckle slipped out of him. His eyes dropped to the ground, and a grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. For a moment, you noticed the subtle tremor in his fingers.

Hamzah caught the way your eyes lingered on his trembling hand. His jaw tensed, and he lifted the cigarette for another drag, faking nonchalance.

“I’m only smoking ‘cause of nerves,” he muttered, the smoke curling from his lips. “This bed situation has been making me a bit…” He trailed off before biting the inside of his cheek. His words swallowed by hesitation.

“It’s hard to stop,” you admitted, your voice low but steady. “I mean, I’ve been there. Quit, started again, quit again… It’s a never-ending cycle.”

The words tumbled out of your mouth like a landslide, a reflexive need to reassure him colliding with an undeniable sense of relatability. Hamzah caught your gaze from the corner of his eyes, his expression softening, steady and quiet, as if he was carefully holding onto every word. When you fell silent, though, he didn’t look away. His expression seemed to be expectant, like he wasn’t yet ready for you to stop talking.

You hesitated, your fingers fidgeting with the edge of your coat. “Anxiety is something you have to battle, not cope with.”

The sentence hung in the air, heavier than you intended. Your tone came out too even, you almost worried it sounded cold. But the words were real—every bit of them was something you truly meant, words you wished someone had said to you when you were struggling too.

Hamzah’s silent response should’ve been unnerving, but it wasn’t. In fact, the way he looked at you, earnest, almost patient, made you feel oddly grounded. He nodded slowly, the corners of his lips tugging into a soft smile. It wasn’t a defeated one this time, but something warmer, more genuine. “That’s true” he said simply. But it didn’t feel like just an agreement for you, it was an affirmation that every bit of your words actually mattered.

But before you two could add anything more, Martin’s voice cut through the quiet night.

“Hey, we’re about to go eat dinner!” Your cousin exclaimed, walking over to you, car keys jingling in his hand. “You guys coming or…?”

“Just give me the keys, man.” Hamzah groaned as he stood up from the bench, a soft grin peeking through his rough act, swiftly catching the keys thrown his way by Martin.

In the car, you caught Hamzah’s gaze more than once. His eyes shifted between the road and brief glances at you, his steady expression almost as if he were ensuring both the drive and you were under control.

You dined at a Chinese restaurant in the area, despite you and Mandy’s earlier talk about wanting to try Ontario’s traditional country dishes. Hamzah had scoffed at the idea, insisting there was no such thing, and if there was, it wouldn’t be worth tasting.

During your second round of sushi rolls, Martin, mid-attempt to hit the ending scene from “Wicked”’s high notes, accidentally knocked over a bowl of hot soup. The contents spilling all over your light blue dress. Though the soup wasn’t boiling hot, Hamzah moved quickly to catch the bowl and then proceeded to dab at the stain with tissues while Martin apologized profusely. You laughed it off, even if the damp spot on your stomach left you trembling during the walk back to the car, the chill of Canada’s cold air biting at your wet skin.

Clutching your coat tightly in a futile attempt to warm yourself, you shivered visibly. Hamzah noticed immediately and leaned toward you. “You okay?”

“Just give her your jacket already” Mandy scolded, peering over Martin to shoot Hamzah an annoyed look.

Hamzah shrugged off his jacket without a word, holding it by the shoulders as he hovered it behind you. The awkward silence stretched long enough to make you wonder if you were supposed to laugh or not, but his steady expression made you quickly slip your arms through the sleeves, the jacket settled warmly around you, its length arriving to your thighs.

His hands brushed against your shoulders as he adjusted the coat, patting it into place with a casualness that made you undeniably flustered. But despite the warmth left on the coat from Hamzah, you found yourself longing for the heat of his hands on your shoulders, a thought you tried to brush off throughout the whole walk.

As you made your way back to the lodge, the chilly, pine-scented air wrapped around you, illuminated by the soft glow of lanterns decorating the vine-infested walls. The chirping of crickets seemed to sing you a gentle welcome.

“Look at the stars!” Mandy exclaimed, elbowing Martin, a finger pointing up above. The group came to a halt, all turning your heads upward as one.

Above you was a sky so clear and full of stars it was hardly comparable to the light-polluted streets of Toronto. You stood still for a moment, mesmerized by the view, while Martin silently pulled out the camera.

“There’s the Big Dipper” you said while pointing toward a constellation, tracing its shape with your finger. The others squinted, following your gaze. “See? That’s the handle, and there’s the body.”

Hamzah stopped squinting to turn to the camera with a big confident smile, one that practically screamed a stupid joke was about to come out of his mouth.

“Bro, the Big Dipper is what I get at Dave’s Hot Chicken, know what I’m sayin’?”

His terrible attempt at comedy was met with two deadpan stares, as expected, from both you and Mandy. Martin the other hand stifled a laugh, but quickly collected himself, turning the camera around to film himself.

“I don’t know, guys, the only beautiful star I see is the one right next to me.” Martin said, wrapping an arm around his girlfriend and pulling her close. Mandy rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the smile tugging at her lips as she reached out to rest an arm on his back.

Hamzah groaned, his eyes flicking back to the sky.

“Little Dipper’s right there, right?” He leaned in closer, his gaze following yours, hand extending to point up at the stars. “Though I call ‘em Ursa Minor and Ursa Major. Never heard of Lil’ Dipper.”

Hamzah joked, mocking your knowledge of astronomy, which made you elbow his side in frustration.

“Oh, but I’m sure you know all about Lil Yeat, right?” You shot back, your tone confident.

But you were met with a burst of laughter exploding from him, his dry chuckles paired with his shoulders shaking uncontrollably. He wiped at his eyes, struggling to catch his breath. “Did you say Lil Yeat?” he gasped breathless.

You rolled your eyes as Hamzah tried to control his laughter, his hand rubbing his face frantically as he struggled to compose himself. He really didn’t have to mock you twice in a row, especially when the first joke was based on something you clearly had more knowledge on, and the second one being about a rapper’s name, one that you really couldn’t cared less about.

Hamzah hadn’t stopped teasing you about it, repeating “Lil Yeat” to Martin, who had the same, in your opinion, exaggerated reaction. The jokes carried on all the way to the cabin, where you two found yourself in after being ditched by the couple, who had conveniently decided they needed some “private time.”

“I’m gonna make you a Yeat fan one day, mark my words” Hamzah declared, locking the door behind him. That teasing smirk he’d been wearing all evening was still firmly in place.

“Can’t wait” you replied dryly, heading straight for the bathroom. You unpacked your cosmetics onto the small, cramped counter and began sorting through your skincare essentials. Just as you settled into your nightly routine, Hamzah started hovering in the doorway, holding a moisturizer and toothpaste. You quickly interjected his request to borrow some of your skincare products, cutting him off with a sharp look, but his insistent nudging came back the moment you pulled out a new product.

“Why not? There’s no way I can fit mine in this tight of a space anyway.” he whined.

“That’s what she said,” you muttered, dabbing your pricey Tatcha moisturizer onto your face.

The night passed quickly as the two of you argued over who had to take a piss the most all the way toplayfully shoving each other to claim the impossibly tiny sink.

When you finally made it to bed, you were relieved to find it wasn’t as small as you’d feared. Though not too spacious, it fit both of you well enough under the heavy blankets.

“Holy shit—your foot!” Hamzah suddenly yelped, jerking his leg away when your icy toes brushed against his calf. His warmth was so inviting, though, that you couldn’t help but inch closer.

Without warning, you extended your leg again, letting your foot rest against what you quickly realized was his thigh.

“Oh my god—“ Hamzah groaned as your heel pressed into his skin. He flinched but didn’t pull away immediately, giving you just enough confidence to push further.

Smirking, you placed your foot completely flat onto his thigh, his body warmth radiating like a heater to the entire sole of your foot.

“You better stop.” he threatened through chuckles, his leg jerking involuntarily as his hand darted out to grab your ankle. You yelped, trying to jerk your leg free, but his hold only tightened, restricting your movement. In a burst of resistance, you pushed forward with more force than you intended.

The sudden motion sent him lurching forward, his chest subtly pressing against your back. You both froze, the laughter still caught in your throat as you felt the fabric of Hamzah’s shorts tickling your thigh.

You quickly turned into a flushed mess, your face heating up as you felt a firm bump against your backside, Hamzah’s breath quickening against your ear.

[max1461]

Continuing on with my America/Europe dichotomy, and this one's gonna be a doozy. This one's for the real thinkers. Ok so basically, Americas are uh, patriarchal and Europes are Oedipal. Ok. Look. This one, right, you're really gonna have to follow me on this one.

Look. In America, right, we do the whole single family home, like, patriarchal homestead medieval Icelandic family farm thing, the man is in charge of the house, rugged individualism and/or suburbia. But it's patriarchal. American man goes out and gets a hot trophy wife, who looks good and bleach blonde hair and signifies "this man is a Real Man, cause he got a hot trophy wife". Wife is like a fast car, wife is like a ferrari you get, to show off. For the American man. Remember China is also an America. Chinese gucci fuckboy chainsmoking guy needs to own a house, he needs to own a house and make one bajillion dollars to land a Chinese beauty standards thin and swan-necked hot Chinese babe to go with his gucci and his car. JUST like American man. Remember that China only ever had one empress in its million year history. Patriarchal.

In a Europe, right, every man wants to fuck his mom. He just does, I've met European men. They all want to fuck their mom. Italian guys? Fuhgeddaboudit. His wife is NOT a trophy to show of to other guys. He will expect her to cook, clean, wipe his ass. And there's this reputation, I know because I have family members who habitually date European men, there's this reputation where they literally live with their mom who cleans their underwear until they move in with their wife and now she cleans his underwear and pops out sixteen Catholic children. Right? Europe is oedipal. Ancient multi-generational homes... it breeds wanting to fuck your mom wanting a fucking mom-wife. Japan has had nine empresses. Squarely a Europe.

This is the source of all the other differences. They don't mind reusing old bathwater in Japan for the same reason moms don't mind when their kids barf on them... in America we don't mind poisonous chemicals in our food because young men don't care about that kind of shit. This is the fundamental difference.

IDEAL state of affairs, ok, is to be born in a wild and crazy America such as America or China, or maybe Russia (edge case), and then move to a nice and peaceful Europe in adulthood. They're great at walkable cities and shit in Europes, they love that shit. Doing what mommy tells them. And as an American it's a breath of fresh air. But it's important to be born and raised over here, you see, so you have that fuck you attitude, so you don't want to fuck your mom. Have I ever told this story? My grandad ate rat poison once, when he was a kid in the great depression riding the rails. I'm not making this up. Apparently he ate so much that his body didn't even try to digest it and it went right through him. He was fine. 🇺🇸

[apoloadonisandnarcissus]

Ellen’s agency and her connection to Count Orlok in “Nosferatu” (2024)

“Someone said to me in a interview the other day, well, isn’t Ellen like this victim? How is it like to play this victimized character? And I was like, well, I don’t think she’s a victim at all. Because she’s kind of calling the shots the entire time […] She has a great deal of agency in this story that I feel we haven’t seen in, you know, iterations of the past.” Lily-Rose Depp

Many are confused as to why Lily-Rose Depp says this, and even accuse her of not understanding her character nor the “complexities of victimhood”. A bit high on ourselves, are we?

The majority of the audience and mainstream media does not understand this film. At all. This is “Jennifer’s Body” (2009) all over again. Including the marketing. This film deals with references the general audience doesn’t recognize, and it will take years or even decades for the mainstream to actually realize what this story is about. And while the fanart coming out of this is beautiful, it should actually be the other way around (Ellen commanding Orlok). This story is also inspired by Serbian horror cult classic “Leptirica” (1973). Robert Eggers already shared his entire list of inspirations (2 books) and 8 movies. That has nothing to do with American Netflix, by the way, and “The Batman Returns” inspiration is merely aesthetic. You are all making comparisons with pop cultures vampires; when Orlok is a strigoi from Romanian folklore, and that’s his lore. He has nothing to do with “Interview with the Vampire” or whatever. Stop “americanizing” other people’s cultures. Robert Eggers subverted everything about 1922 “Nosferatu” and the “Dracula” novel by Bram Stoker. We are entering Balkan territory here, and European Paganism.

The occult themes are rooted on Pagan beliefs (the opposite to Victorian Christian society), and we have a lot of references to Aleister Crowley because he lived during the Victorian era. All the Şolomonari rituals we see in this film (and they are three, and I’ll talk about them here) are Sex Magick rituals based on Crowley and Paganism. The core themes here are sex and death, and female sexuality repression and liberation. Robert Eggers wants “to stay through the lens of the 19th century” because he has no interest in doing “modern films”, and Historical Feminism is his thing. Orlok, himself, is not only a follower of Zalmoxis, owner of the secrets of immortality, he's also a worshipper of the Divine Feminine, the opposite to patriarchal and male pleasure centered Victorian society. But more on that later.

This film starts with Ellen performing Black Magic (necromancy); and this should tell you everything you need to know about her nature. Orlok’s spirit was in a limbo (“darkest pit”) and only by the power of her words (“enchantress”) she makes his soul return to his former body (dead and rotting since the late 16th century) and curses him to be a strigoi (that’s why he calls her “his affliction”, as in “sickness”, “plague”). As Ellen sexuality awakes (15 years old), so does Orlok (resurrection).

Ellen and Orlok Connection

Let’s talk sexual abuse (some of you favorite topic): did Orlok ever had "astral sex" with teenage Ellen? No, he only has sex with her at the end. And the story itself tells us this.

Everyone already decided that he did, including mainstream publications that trap Robert Eggers into calling Orlok a “disgusting abuser” (this is also the only interview where he call Orlok such a thing but he doesn’t even elaborate). This doesn’t validate anything; Eggers just doesn’t want to deal with backlash because mainstream media already made up their minds on what his story is about, and creators can’t afford to lose investment for their next projects.

If we take Herr Knock’s ritual into context, at the prologue, it’s Ellen masturbating. Because when Orlok does touch her (when he reveals himself), she has a seizure (metaphor for orgasm). Eggers established a difference here. In Freudian symbolism, gardens also represent the female sexual domain. And these lilacs are in full bloom; awakening sexuality and fertility. This is Ellen’s realm. Metaphorically being attacked by a demon because of Victorian views of female sexuality.

Ellen tells Orlok (in a very sexual tone) she felt him like a serpent in her body, he says it’s not him, but her nature (her sexuality); this implies Orlok never actually had any astral sex with her (as in penetrating her), and what she has been doing this whole time is masturbation: a huge taboo on Victorian society, and the ultimate sin, as Ellen’s father calls it when he finds her naked, and yes, masturbating.

Orlok was there watching and/or talking with her; as a presence really because he’s a haunting, as that’s how Robert Eggers describes him. Either way she was fantasizing about him (“your passion is bound to me” and she believes he took her as “his lover”). She tells Thomas “you could never please me as he could” because the purpose of masturbation is orgasm (which is what she associates Orlok with) and vaginal orgasms by penetration (alone) can be difficult for most women to achieve.

While on his way to Wisburg, Orlok says to Ellen: “Soon I will be no more a shadow to you. Your spirit was never enough. Soon our flesh shall embrace and we shall be as one”; which, again, implies he never had sex with her (“and we shall be as one” = finally, at last). He has only been a shadow (haunting) to her, until now; they have not yet been as “one” (sex). He also tells her, after she gives him her soul; “as our spirits are one, so too shall be our flesh”, which indicates he hasn’t touch her in that way (penetration) before. Which also explains why he is hyperventilating before actually having sex with her at the end; and he stands there, waiting for her consent.

His entire demeanor with the locket also indicates a profound longing and yearning. You all are taking Orlok saying he’s an “appetite” too literally, because he’s talking about his consumption of blood after Ellen accuses him of being a “villain to speak so” in answer to “you are not of human kind”. She’s pretty much saying: “you are one to talk, you are a evil vampire”. And he denies being evil, he’s “an appetite, more nothing”.

"And I shall taste of you" [he doesn't mean her blood, alone]

And Robert Eggers gave us a parallel with Thomas, where Orlok does behave like a sexual predator, and Thomas is his prey, completely at his mercy. With Ellen, he awaits her command, she’s in full control. These two scenes are meant to show the difference in Orlok’s behavior.

He also uses Thomas as his masturbation assistant (sexually assaults him) and as part of his Şolomonari Sex Magick ritual to annul his marriage to Ellen, spiritually. Thomas, being her husband and fresh out of their honeymoon, has her sexual signature on him: “your husband is lost to you” = “you are single now”.

"Your husband has signed his name, and covenanted you to my person for but a sack of gold. For gold he did absolve his nuptial bond."

With Ellen, at the end, it’s also a Şolomonari Sex Magick ritual to consummate their own wedding and to break Nosferatu curse, with her full consent: “and so the maiden fair did offer up her love unto the beast, and with him lay in close embrace until first cock crow, her willing sacrifice thus broke the curse and freed them from the plague of Nosferatu”.

And this is all according to her will because that’s how Magick works; they are both manifesting the breaking of his curse, and harvesting sexual power to do it, and the ritual ends with her orgasm, as it’s suppose to in Sex Magick devoted to the Divine Feminine. And in this scene, Orlok does have penetrative sex with Ellen because we can hear the penetration in the sound design. Thank you, Robert Eggers, for that detail. He really wants his audience to know penetrative sex is happening here. And this is connected with sexual energy, not only him drinking her blood: that's the willing sacrifice part, she's allowing him to kill her, as the dawn will kill him (setting their spirits free to be reunited in the spiritual realm as their covenant says).

When Orlok tells Ellen "we shall be as one”, she doesn’t have any seizure nor “hysteric spell”. She’s at the window. Waiting. Robert Eggers is giving us a lot of visual information about Ellen and Orlok’s connection.

Besides, Orlok is a strigoi, not a incubus (nor has Robert Eggers ever described him as such); strigoi have to be physically present in order to do things. And his scene with Thomas proves this. He made Knock drag him all the way to Transylvania to perform a Şolomonari Sex Magick ritual to divorce him from Ellen. Which indicates he can’t astral projecting himself to do this kind of stuff.

Robert Eggers also said that Ellen, unlike Anna, doesn’t conceal her sexual desires, which I find really interesting, because Ellen spends the entire story repressing her sexuality and nature (until she fully embraces it at the end); this implies all the moaning in on Ellen herself, and not Orlok actually doing things to her body (but more on that later). Because the prologue established that, when he touches her, she has a seizure (and this is the only time we see this happening). Von Franz exorcism doesn’t count because he was compelling her to speak what Orlok says to her.

Him asking her “remember how once we were? A moment. Remember?” is probably connected with the reincarnation themes in this story; and Romanian strigoi myths in general. This is a Gothic Folk Horror story.

Ellen also has premonitions (she knew Thomas would be sent away and later she confirms to Von Franz she has this gift). Orlok is a monster of her own creation (and she confirms this twice, to Von Franz and to Thomas). Her being an enchantress parallels Orlok himself who, according to the Nuns, was a “black enchanter” in life. These are their archetypes in the narrative: Ellen is the great Pagan priestess, and Orlok is the Pagan priest-shaman follower of Zalmoxis, the Dacian God of life and death.

Romanian folklore: strigoi showing up at their loved ones window, asking for entrance

Herr Knock had to set a whole room and perform a Şolomonari Sex Magick ritual (masturbation) just to talk to Orlok, Ellen doesn’t need any of that; her spiritual power is insane in this film.

And this scene tells the audience that Orlok has to be summoned for these communications to happen. He’s haunting Ellen because she wants him to haunt her. He’s exactly where she wants him to be. She controls their entire connection; she’s the one who calls out to him, always (not only at the prologue and at the end, which is what Lily-Rose Depp says in this interview). It was her spiritual power that put an end to their communication when she met Thomas (her socially acceptable sexuality). She has full control over everything that’s happening in this story.

Ellen’s communications with Orlok are very sexual in nature because it’s sexual energy that conjures him (like we see with Herr Knock). So, when she’s moaning she’s channeling her sexual energy to summon him to come to her. “He’s coming to him”, it’s her yearning for Orlok.

The maiden’s token was meant for Orlok; she knew Thomas would be sent to him, her hair smells like lilacs, and the next scene after Ellen makes the token is Knock’s ritual (Eggers is not even being subtle here).

Orlok knows what this means, and to him it’s confirmation of her yearning for him. He also remembers lilacs from when he was alive, which further strengthens the reincarnation theme at play here. And that’s why he accuses her being “false” when she claims to hate him; she has been calling out to him this whole time.

Ellen and Orlok’s connection runs deep and it’s spiritual at its core. Orlok has the divine feminine heptagram (seven-pointed star) on his sigil (not an alchemist heptagram), connected to Isis and Babalon. That’s why Robert Eggers calls their marriage sacred. Orlok magic isn’t only about the secrets of immortality, life and death; but also divine feminine, the worship of female energy. Which is the opposite of Christian Victorian society; patriarchal, male dominated and male centered, including sexually (sex for male pleasure alone). Which is why Eggers gave us the parallel of Thomas (Victorian society) vs. Orlok: Victorian men see sex as male-centered, while Orlok, the worshipper of the Divine Feminine, focus on female sexual pleasure, as Ellen finally experiences a vaginal orgasm with him.

Orlok has to be invited into places, like your regular vampire (and the film establish this with all the windows; the Nuns saying he can’t enter that house of God, it has nothing to do with God, but with him not being giving entrance; and Dr. Sievers saying they should go home because Orlok has certainly risen from his grave at that time, implying they aren’t safe in the streets). And it’s Ellen that gives him entrance into Wisburg, into the Hardings household and into her own home, at the end. He can only attack those in the street at night, and he threatened to kill Thomas knowing full well he couldn’t if he stays indoors and isn’t invited in.

But doesn’t Ellen suffers because of this haunting? She does and she doesn’t. She wants to interact with Orlok, but Victorian views of female sexuality tell her she shouldn’t want this (married heterosexual sex was the only social acceptable sexual expression and everything else was seen as “deviant”, “sinful” and “evil”; sex was a marital duty and for male pleasure alone; women’s sexuality was owned by their husbands; motherhood was a woman’s destiny). She’s conflicted. She also pretends to be innocent and naive because that’s what socially expected of her, and we see this with Anna Harding, as she infantilizes herself before her several times (“everything I say sounds so childish”).

And things get even darker because she gave Orlok entrance into the Harding household but then is enraged because Friedrich Harding sends her and Thomas home. The place where Thomas is actually safe from Orlok. And she pulls off her "possession scene". And during the carriage scene (when everyone is talking about destroying Orlok), she gets restless and intervenes: at first she plays it innocent by saying to Thomas "let me come with you", which he, obviously, refuses. Then she tells Professor Von Franz: "Professor, allow me to walk you to your door" but her voice sounds different here. We can't forget she's an enchantress, after all.

And, Professor Von Franz, the man who “saw things in this world that would make Isaac Newton crawl back to his mother’s womb”, actually looks scared of Ellen here:

Ellen is not letting anyone put a stake of cold iron on her lover demon, sending him somewhere she cannot reach him, and she finally accepts his covenant of being one with him, ever-eternally. Driving home the point: everything that happens in this story is according to Ellen's will. She's the one calling the shots, like Lily-Rose Depp tells us.

And she wins at the end because she gets exactly what she wants, as does Orlok himself, but he's scared of what will happen next because he probably knows there will be horrible pain in his physical death, and Ellen comforts him, as makes him look at her, instead of the sun.

[daman19942]

TSR CC Recommendations: TS2 Lot Builders

Nobody asked for this but I have a little time on my hands and I said I might do it, so here is a list of some TSR lot builders who I recommend checking out. A few notes under the cut before we get started (all details under the cut, as well, in case you aren't interested in my preamble):

This is not meant to be paid promotion for TSR. I believe TSR asking users to pay for their CC is ridiculous, especially for a 19 year old game they haven't supported in 7 years. But I spent many years uploading there during the peak-TS2 / pre-TS3 era and know there is great CC in their archives that newer players may not know about. And unlike TheSims2.com, which has sadly shuffled off this mortal coil, TSR's content is still available to freely download (assuming you can stomach the pop-ups and wait times)

This post will only be about lot builders because that was what I was primarily uploading and downloading in this era. I was friendly with some of the creators I am about to list, but none of them are still active members of the TS2 community.

The preview pics might be a little rough and the architecture styles will likely feel very dated compared to the most popular styles these days, which are more colorful, cluttered, and use 3t2 and 4t2 conversions. Re: the previews: too many of us were using free trials of PaintShopPro back then, and TSR limited us to 2 previews, so we did our best. Re: the styles: unlike pre-2010's CAS CC, which was full of hand painted and "realistic" textures (LOL), these are the same objects you can find in the game today, just being used in different ways! Sometimes for the first time! And, yes, while some of these creators used CC, it was mostly Homecrafter walls and floors, as you'll see below.

This was also the hey-day of CFE lot building, which has certainly fallen out of favor to more traditional builds (in part because graphics cards have improved and these types of builds don't look as good in 2024, and also because the great CFE experimenters, builders, and tutorial writers are no longer part of the community and their original discoveries are gone as well - I am happy to go down a massive rabbit hole on this piece of TS2 history if anyone else cares, but trust me, you don't have to care).

Alright that is enough caveating, here are some recs! (Links are in the creator's names and they take you to their Lots, though many of them have other creations, too).

Lord Tiko Speaking of great CFE builders! Lord Tiko built spaceships, boats, pagodas, domes, windmills and bridges, oh so many bridges before retiring mid-TS2 because of health issues. He was one of the first builders to take Daihtnaoz7's single and double bridge tutorials and apply them to really big lots. I'm still not sure how he built the Venice Rialto Bridge, or his other European water lots. Overall, a massive inspiration to me when I was prioritizing CFE builds.

Hatshepsut My favorite "traditional" home builder, and someone I considered a friend. She specialized in English and American builds, and I had many of Hat's houses in my old saves and was impressed by her range and decorating style which was (for the time) more varied than many of her peers. Knew how to take great preview pics of her houses, too.

Tigerblue Another builder I corresponded with, Tigerblue was probably the least prolific uploader on this list for sheer number of uploads, but she also crossed a range of styles. Her builds leaned way into specific styles (see the previews, these were all part of consistent sets of 3,4, or even 10 lots), but this was also what happened when a new EP dropped and everyone raced to uploaded builds using as many of the new objects and styles as possible. Tigerblue just happened to be better at it than most of us.

Cyclonesue Do current TS2 players know Cyclonesue? Because it's hard to think of someone who had a bigger impact on building and decorating of the era, first with her English and Tudor builds and later with her extremely distinct grunge creations. Seriously, check out her Urban Renewal series and the corresponding objects. Iconic stuff that surely now feels frozen in time. I probably only played 20% of her lots that I downloaded, but they still make for great hood decor. Like Tiko, someone who happily experimented with CFE.

Illiana The creator who inspired me to make this list is, ironically, the one on it who I know the least about (she is a Featured Artist but not in the Hall of Fame, whatever that means). I just started playing her Tri-Annyas fraternity house and have a few other lots floating around my game. She built in a range of styles, from classical to modern to Twikki Island to grunge. Revisiting some of them in-game, the TSR previews do not do them justice.

*EXHALES* If you made it to this point, kudos to you. I'm sure there are creators I've forgotten, and houses I haven't linked to, but this is a good starting point for digging into some of the eclectic builds the TSR(chives) have to offer (I just coined that, is it clever? It is not). Maybe I'll do a Part 2 if people like this.

If you have any favorites of your own, let me know what I missed! And as I do with my old Exchange re-uploads, I am tagging @sims2packrat and @oldasscustomcontent for general TS2 history awareness!

[the-glorious-evolution-fanart]

what’s your take on this whole “viktor is czech” controversy im seeing so many posts about how we can’t say viktor is russian or any other Slav anymore because of harry lloyd saying he did a czech accent

(I'm answering immediately since this is kind of an active topic that will probably quickly die. Please first read my entire post.)

I am of the opinion that everyone is allowed to headcanon a character however they want, and that it's not nice to insist everyone else adopt one's own interpretation especially if it's not canon. Even if things are canon, people can always choose to purposefully ignore canon in favour of what they prefer. This says nothing about quality - that can go either way. Sometimes the original writing is bad, other times it's good and fandom interpretations are of low creativity/low understanding/quality.

This accent discussion is not a controversy, it's just a tug of war between some fans. Lower the bullying and arguments everyone! It's okay. There's not much point fighting between fans, when companies hold all the power.

~

The reality is more complex than "what canon actually says".

Previous League version

Originally, Viktor the Machine Herald was designed to on the surface quickly read like an Eastern-European mad scientist engineer, with "vibes" from the Red Scare (and things like Red Alert). It has roots in ideas about scary effective heavy machinery. He was made to have a stereotypical Hollywood Slavic accent. If people read into it as Russian, it wouldn't be incorrect, thought the company. That doesn't mean he's hard-coded as Russian. There's the opinion of the lead writer Praeco being shared online in which he says:

He makes the fast mental jump (just like many viewers/players) and lands on the surface-level stereotype, which he thinks is all there is to it. This is false. Viktor's original, release lore from 2011. has no cultural hints towards Russia nor those stereotypes. It is a great basis for developing a more detailed story, which people would certainly love if it was done in an animated medium.

What the lore does have, are similarities with Nikola Tesla, a Serbian engineer and inventor who was conned by Edison, had his work stolen and often been viewed as crazy. Viktor's in-game abilities are inspired by some of Nikola Tesla's hypothetical inventions. His staff has a Tesla coil on it.

I personally write Viktor as being Serbian-inspired due to this, and it's also easier for me as I'm Serbian, so I can make up a headcanon about old lore old Zaunites speaking this language thus explaining the accent when they speak Common; and not stress over messing up a translation. There's also the fact that we are very underrepresented in pop-culture, and even when we are, it's most often as unintelligent criminals.

That doesn't mean that people headcanoning League Viktor as being Russian-inspired are automatically incorrect.

2. Arcane Viktor

Here's the interview with the voice actor. There's a couple of things here to be noted. He says a "frail Eastern-European scientist"... meanwhile Czechs are Western Slavs, not Eastern. This tells me the Americans leading the show didn't pay much attention to ethnicities, as those things don't matter to them.

Then Nikola Tesla is brought up again - proving the original core archetype. But Nikola Tesla was Serbian, who are South Slavs, not Eastern nor Western.

To Americans, we are all interchangeable. They really don't care. They hired a British voice actor, despite there being countless Slavic voice actors they could have contacted. I can even reach a bunch of them.

The voice actor they hired had only practiced a Czech accent in one of his previous works, and it was "close enough". And what I can say is that he doesn't sound neither Russian, nor Serbian to my ear. Our accent is way more heavy and explosive (actually pretty similar to original in-game Viktor! Just less dramatic) while Russian would be way more softer. I've seen some Czechs say he does indeed sound Czech, and I think that's completely valid! But Arcane Viktor is Czech not by design, but out of necessity.

Czechs (Česi!!!!!) are also very little represented in pop-culture. Basically non-existent. They have also historically been behind the Iron Curtain, so you must understand their position. I think people have the right to headcanon Arcane Viktor as being Czech-inspired, despite what all the inconsistencies and frankly bad mixups have been said by the production crew behind-the-scenes. And they absolutely should not be bullied and forced into headcanoning Arcane Viktor as Russian or any other ethnicity! What's in the work itself sounds Czech, not Serbian. That said, I also think people have the right to personally headcanon Arcane Viktor as any ethnicity-inspired as they wish. Just know the state of things like I shared here, say what your personal headcanon is and don't vaguepost or bully other people. Those throwing rocks first should stop.

3. In the end, I personally view Arcane Viktor as Czech-inspired, League Viktor as Serbian-inspired, but it's not even wrong to consider him generally Slavic-inspired, as these nationalities really don't exist in Runeterra. Political situation aside.

[acmoorereadsandwrites]

Books to Try if You Loved the Grishaverse

If you liked the magical heists but you wanted more werewolves, vampires, nine-tailed foxes, and fae, try:

Zodiac Rising by Katie Zhao, a YA heist inspired by Chinese folklore.

The fountainheads of the zodiac families have been taken and Evangeline’s older brother has been found dead, with all signs leading to the fae being responsible for both. Evangeline gathers a team of three other students to help her get the statues back, but things are never that simple when you’re on a heist with your ex or enter the fae world.

If you wanted to spend more time inside The Fold and liked the complicated romances, try:

The Gods Below by Andrea Stewart, the first in an epic fantasy trilogy

Two sisters forced on opposite sides of a war when Hakara escapes a godly force that either kills or transforms anyone trapped in it and the younger sister, Rasha, is changed into the god’s image. One sister will never give up hope of reuniting and the other learns the world is a lot more cruel than she originally believed.

If you wanted more Queer stories about destroying your monstrous ex, try:

The Sins on Their Bones by Laura R. Samotin, a standalone MM fantasy inspired by Ashkenazi Jewish folklore

Dimitri was the Tzar, once, before his estranged husband took his place and forced him into hiding with what’s left of his court. With his new lover, Dimitri will destroy Alexey if it’s the last thing he’ll do. But Alexey is not ready ready to left Dimitri go and will do whatever he can to get him back.

You want the heist and the found family and addictive romance, but you wanted a contemporary with no magical elements, try:

Women of Good Fortune by Sophie Wan, a contemporary set in Shanghai

Best friends Lulu, Jane, and Rina plan a heist to steal the money gifted to Lulu and her fiancee on Lulu’s wedding day to fund their dreams. But as they plan, obstacles pop up and some parts of their lives are maybe not as bad as they originally thought.

If you wanted more time in The Fold, destroying your monstrous ex, and you loved the Eastern European-inspired setting but you wanted more witches and dragons, try:

Foul Days Genoveva Dimova, the first in a Bulgarian fantasy duology inspired by the Iron Curtain

Kosara is a witch who willingly gave up her shadow, and her magic, to escape her home and her ex, the zmey. But she’s dying without her shadow. The only way to save herself is to go back and face her past.

If you loved the complicated relationship, you really love the enemies-to-lovers witch x witch hunter romance found in Nina and Matthias’ story, but you wanted a fantasy romance, try:

Heartless Hunter by Kristen Ciccarelli, the first in a YA/New Adult Romantasy duology

Rune is a witch in hiding who has been doing everything she can to save her fellow witches from the witch hunters. Gideon is the brother of Rune’s childhood best friend and a witch hunter out to kill every witch and was traumatized by one of the former witch queens. When the two agree to pretend to court, this cat-and-mouse game will reignite old attractions and heavy prices will be paid

If you loved what Netflix’s Shadow and Bone did with casting Alina and Mal as biracial but wanted more conversations around the complexities of being biracial during colonization and war, try:

Sun of Blood and Ruin by Mariely Lares, a YA historical fantasy first in a planned series inspired by Zorro and Mesoamerican mythology

Leonora has taken the manacle of Pantera, fighting the colonizers every chance she gets to free her people from their oppression while also reconciling with her own identity as a biracial woman in a world where she has to be one or the other.

If you loved the elemental magic and found family but you also love fairy tale retellings, try

The Goose Girl by Shannon Hale, the first of a four book YA fantasy series

Princess Anidori is engaged to marry a man she has never met, Prince Geric. Her maid forcibly takes her place and sends Ani to become the new goose girl of the king. What the maid wasn’t aware of was that Ani has growing magical powers and that her kindness would win her allies to help get her throne back.

If you loved the angst of Kaz and Inej’s love story but want more tragedy, more poetic language, and less fantasy, try:

A Song to Drown Rivers by Ann Liang, a standalone romantic historical retelling the legend of one of the Four Beauties of Ancient China

Xishi is one of the most beautiful women Fanli, an advisor to the emperor, has ever seen, prompting him to ask her to distract the king so a coup can come and overthrow him. Xishi agrees but wanted neither expected was to fall for each other as they prepare to be separated.

[gurugirl]

A Balancing Act | Ch. 4*

Series Summary: Harry is a famous, rich, handsome, pop star and he’s been in therapy since his boy band days. When he meets Y/n, a beautiful and successful artist, he cannot take no for an answer when it comes to her. He’s determined to make her his even if he has to bend the rules a little at first.

Chapter Summary: Harry brings Y/n with him on his European tour but when Y/n decides she needs a break to figure things out Harry is beside himself. He's sure she's going to break up with him but she's sure he doesn't want the same things she does. When they finally talk will they both be on the same page?

Warning: 18+ only, NSFW, smut, dom/sub dynamic, angst, DDlg kink,

Word Count: 12.5k

Commissioned by @cinnamonone (thank you!! xoxo)

A Balancing Act Masterlist

A balancing act requires soft poise and harmonious alignment. The joining of differing needs and wants to acquiesce for a perfect, or nearly perfect outcome. One can’t have more than the other. All sides must be used to make a point. The leveling of opinion and decision coupled with the desire to satisfy the ideal effect.

“Put that down. It doesn’t do any good.”

Y/n looked up at Harry who’d placed his palm over her phone to cover her screen. She was trying not to obsess about the pictures of herself. There were so many. And now that she’d been seeing Harry for a few months and was on tour with him in Europe, the gossip abounded. It was wild how quickly everyone learned her name, her age, the fact that she had been married, where her art pieces were showing, and even what kind of car she drove. It was… a lot.

“I know but they’ve caught me in the worst outfit and angle and these comments-“

“Please don’t do that,” Harry spoke as he sat down next to her and slid the phone from her hands, “You’re a knockout. I’ve never once looked at you and thought otherwise. None of that matters. Okay? It’s us. You and me.”

She nodded as he pulled her into his side and kissed the top of her head, “I know. But still. I’m just not used to any attention. Not like this.”

“The best thing you can do is to ignore it and don’t look at the articles.”

But of course, that was easier said than done. Going to Europe with him had been a whirlwind. So many fans and friends and his family, day trips, flights, drivers, shopping, studio sessions, meetings, rushing, concerts, flowers, kissing, late-night talking, falling deeper for the man, and sex. There was a lot of sex.

It was stressful. It was fun, though, too. And she enjoyed spending time with Harry in his world but there was very little time for herself in her own world. She didn’t put paint, or ink on canvas the entire time she was with Harry in Europe. She never found the time, even though she had downtime, her inspiration waned. When Harry was in the studio writing, jamming, and making music she didn’t normally go. In fact, after going with him only twice she realized how awkward it was for her to be there. He was working with his band and his team. She was of no use there with him. She felt like she was just in the way. And she didn’t want to be the kind of girlfriend that followed him around like a puppy everywhere.

So she stayed in the hotel or in the villa or wherever they were staying depending on the leg of the trip. She’d venture out to go to cafes by herself, do some shopping, or just to walk around but it became a game of dodging people on the street who started to recognize her. Pictures and videos were taken without her consent. Later she’d see some of the photos in gossip articles and comments saying how she called the paps on herself because why on earth would anyone want a photo of her?

The hate came quickly. The vitriol for a woman that no one knew. Her social media accounts were stalked, screenshots taken and posted on other social media accounts about her and her art and what kind of person she might be based on old posts she’d long forgotten.

One old post on Instagram was of her out on her bachelorette party before she was married. It was a series of six photos. She was wearing something a little bit skimpy, but nothing too crazy. Most of the pictures showed her with a drink in hand, one of her dancing with some man she didn’t know, and the last one was of her the next morning with mangled hair and smeared makeup, a mimosa raised upward, and the words printed over the photo ‘hair of the dog’.

That one got a lot of attention. She was an alcoholic party girl, too fat to be wearing something so revealing, ugly, a slut (for dancing with a man), and the worst insult was “no wonder her ex divorced her”.

Yes, Harry’s fans learned that she had been married. Some knew that her husband had died (she wasn’t sure how they knew). But most assumed she was divorced because she didn’t post publicly about the tragic loss she endured. It was no one’s business, but for people who didn’t know her to make wild assumptions about what had occurred in her marriage was the most hurtful.

But on the other side of that were the fans that simply refused to believe he could be dating Y/n. Many were convinced Harry was either already in a relationship with an ex-band member from his boyband days or it was all for public relations. That her “team” and his “team” were in on something together for publicity. Because that would be the only explanation. Harry would never stoop so low as to date someone like Y/n. Someone who looked like Y/n. Couldn’t be. The Harry “they knew” would never.

Then of course there were those that thought she was simply using Harry’s fame to boost her own popularity in the art world. She was a leech, a sneak, conniving… It all hurt. She wasn’t sure she could stomach much more. And yes, it was true that interest in her art was boosted. Which she really didn’t like because it was more to the fact that “this is a piece of art painted by Harry Style’s girlfriend” rather than a painting that was pleasing to the eye and worth the price tag.

And Harry’s late nights at the studio and after a concert were tiresome. She had been catapulted into this strange reality with a famous man that she felt herself falling for. But how did she fit in with it all? She couldn’t see herself finding her place with him. It all felt very temporary. And the fact that she’d lost the inspiration to create herself was troublesome. The plan was that she could still paint and travel with him and they’d get to be together. She didn’t have to stay home to paint. It was supposed to be easy. But it wasn’t.

But as awful as all that was, she and Harry got closer. He’d arrive late to their bed, crawling over her and wrapping her up in his arms. Normally she’d wake up and nuzzle into him and sigh as they both fell asleep. Sometimes Harry wasn’t ready to go to sleep and he was very persuasive. If he wanted her, well, he had her. She looked forward to, with impatience, having sex with Harry.

Harry had changed her entire view on sex. It was nothing like she’d ever experienced before. Prior to Harry, sex was just sex. It was usually good. Sometimes she’d orgasm. But with Harry, it wasn’t just sex. It was the joining of two separate beings in an act that was vulnerable, exciting, novel, and made Y/n’s heart thrash about in her chest from nerves and thrill. She hadn’t realized how addicted she’d become to what he did. How he handled her body and her mind.

Usually, though, she and Harry had sex during the day. With the sun in the sky, curtains open, and people milling about. She had always been used to nighttime, lights out, on her marital bed sex. Harry liked to have sex anywhere. And he liked to see it all. All of her bits. He’d kiss and praise and then spank her if she tried to hide herself. They had fun together. Sex hadn’t ever been so fun. And she slowly started to see her body in a different light.

After his last show in Paris, she went to his dressing room, like she always did after a show, and he scooped her into his arms and kissed her broadly on the lips in front of everyone. He was hard.

A small gasp fell from her lips as she craned her neck back to look up at him in surprise. He only winked down at her, swiftly turned her around, and placed his hands on her shoulders. He was literally using her body to block his erection from view of his bandmates and the event staff.

When Mitch and Sarah finally made their way to their shared dressing room Harry told his assistant he didn’t need help and dragged her to his big couch after locking the door.

“Need you to take your panties off right now,” Harry spoke as he unbuttoned his pants and kept his eyes on her.

Y/n was wearing a cute maxi dress that was comfy and easy to dance in. She learned that she needed to wear clothes that were comfortable at Harry’s concerts because there was lots of dancing. But she also wanted to look cute because there was never a shortage of photos of her, no matter how much she hated that part. And if she wasn’t dancing she was a fake, a bad girlfriend, a fat blob. Oh, but of course, even if she did dance then that meant she was trying too hard, making herself look ridiculous, and then there was the odd comment about how she was too large to be attempting to dance at all.

She pushed those thoughts down as she lifted the bottom of her dress upward and slid her panties down her legs as Harry pulled a small belt with a ball at the center out of his bag. His pants were undone but his underwear was bulging at the crotch, his cock pressing outward with strain. He stood over her where she was sat on the couch and took her panties from her hands and then motioned for her to turn around, “Face the wall, get on your knees.”

“Harry what are you-“ her words turned into a yelp as he smacked her bottom.

“Do you fucking never learn?” He leaned in and spoke quietly, his voice deep and dark, “You’ll be getting paddled tonight for that mistake. Address me properly.”

Cursing under her breath she squeezed her eyes closed. She didn’t know what it was that didn’t allow her to so easily fall into just calling him Daddy like he wanted. She needed lots of reminders and her bruised bottom was proof of all of her forgetful little moments.

Part of her secretly loved it. Enjoyed the thrill of needing to be corrected and not simply giving in to him all the time.

“Sorry. Daddy. What are you doing?” Her tone clearly sardonic. 

Harry raised his brows and shook his head, ignoring her mouthiness, “I’m going to fuck you against the couch and gag you so no one hears you. Now, turn around pretty girl.”

She pulled herself to her knees and turned so her palms were clutching the leather at the top of the couch and immediately felt Harry’s hands pulling her dress up so her bum was fully exposed and issued another sharp swat to her left side. She jolted in shock before turning to watch Harry behind her.

Harry brought his hands up, her panties in hand, and swiftly pulled the material over her eyes, tying the sides to the back of her head to keep it in place.

“Uh, those are expensive! You’ll stretch them!” She countered as the material hung over her sight.

Harry chuckled darkly and she felt his lips at her ear, “Who bought them for you, baby? I’ll buy you more. Don’t worry about it. Now, keep that mouth open.”

She opened her mouth quickly and felt the silicon ball take its place in her mouth, as he adjusted the buckle to the back of her head. She was unable to see or speak as she was pushed forward, her chest being pressed into the couch. Her bottom was still uncovered and she felt the cool air of the dressing room on her skin as Harry gently caressed her flesh down to where her legs were bent at her knees and over the backs of her calves and ankles before spreading her legs further apart.

“Keep your hands on the wall behind the couch, like this,” Harry moved his palms over her arms until he reached her wrists and pulled her arms out so she kept her hands flat on the wall, causing her back to arch the slightest.

“Good girl. So hot. Unbelievable baby. Daddy’s gonna have a taste now.”

She couldn’t see much or speak at all but she could certainly hear and feel. And the moment Harry’s tongue licked up through her crease her mind shifted into another gear. Harry had eaten her out in this position before. Behind her, his nose at her bum. At first, it gave her a lot of hesitancy, worried she smelled or tasted odd. But he always insisted she was delicious and he could eat her for dinner every night for the rest of his life. His reassurances had her at ease, but it still always gave her pause.

Harry moaned into her pussy as he licked and kissed. His hands were on her ass, spreading her apart as he softly licked, licked, licked… wet and hot from clit to ass, from clit to ass, clit to ass… He spat over her and stuffed two fingers into her cunt and she squealed into the gag, the sound hardly heard in the room. Harry chuffed a laugh at her muffled noises.

Soon she was soppy and achy. Harry noticed how she was pushing herself back into him. That’s where he liked to get her. To the point she was seeking her own pleasure. Where she was so worked up she wanted more.

Harry sat back and stood from the couch and pulled his cock out from his underwear. He pressed his hips into her bottom and brushed his hands over her waist, pushing her dress higher, “Daddy needs his cock milked now. So fucking horny for you, sweet girl.”

She grunted in relief when he pushed into her. It was always a welcome moment. To have his dick inside of her, parting her insides and nudging into her cervix. He was curved in such a way that his wide cock pushed into her front wall on each stroke anytime she was in this position while he was fucking into her.

She kept her hands on the wall as he pounded into her and she steadied herself the best she could but Harry was strong and he always went in with such force that it caused her a good jolt forward on each snap of his hips. Delicious.

When his long fingers wrapped around the front of her neck he squeezed the sides and slowed his plunges, “Wish everyone could hear us. Could hear how filthy your pussy gets when I fuck it. How creamy you are. Wish they could hear how it sounds to have my cock slipping deep into your wet hole.”

Y/n felt her cheeks burn and her head get foggy under the pressure of his fingers on her throat. His thrusts increased again and the couch rocked under them into the paper-thin wall Y/n used to keep herself held up.

A knock at the door and a muffled voice from behind had Harry slowing down but never stopping, “M’busy! Be out in a bit!”

She couldn’t hear whatever was said from behind the door because her ears were ringing. Harry’s cock inside of her gave her tunnel vision. She almost didn’t care if anyone heard at that point. Her body felt so good, her pussy being worked open and split down the middle, her guts rearranged, her ass smacked, throat choked.

“Fans want me out there, but I needed you first didn’t I baby?” Harry’s thrusts were sloppy and harsh as he panted his words, “Daddy wants to fuck his come into you so you’ll be out there with everyone while my sperm drips out of your pussy and down your legs. My dirty little come hole. But that’s what Daddy’s little girl likes, isn’t it? Fuck…” Harry looked down at where he was being gripped by Y/n. Her tight little pussy working its magic on him.

Y/n’s telltale signs were beginning to show. Her thighs were shaking and her back was arching and she was grinding herself onto him each time he’d pull back. She was going to come.

Harry choked out a loud groan into the room, “Fuck! I’m gonna come!”

He reached down to rub her clit just as he began to pour into her pussy. He clenched his teeth and moaned into her ear. With the angle he needed to reach her clit his chest was pressed into her back, his stiff and sharp movements were forceful into her and she felt her own orgasm follow moments later. Thanks to his long fingers that knew just what to do and where to press to get her off.

Drool slid down her chin and to her clavicle as she came. The noise of the couch still creaking under her knees as Harry continued pushing into her increased in sound.

Harry hissed and moaned and kissed the back of her neck as he kept himself stuffed inside of her as she spasmed around him, squeezing his cock of all he had and letting it drain into her. A beautiful symphony of sex in the dressing room.

Harry laughed as he removed the gag and the panties from her face. She had small marks that dug into her skin from the fabric of the panties and the leather of the belt.

“God you’re gorgeous. Gonna go out there with me to meet the fans with my come slipping out of your cunt all night? Hmm?” Harry teased as she straightened her dress out and caught her breath.

And of course, that’s exactly what happened. She walked around and met some fans. Most didn’t know who she was. Some knew her as the girl that had been spending time with Harry. Others joked that she was following him around and that he didn’t want her there.

One pretty young thing, probably still in college, went from having her picture taken with Harry to making a snide remark to Y/n, “I love how you don’t care how you look when you dance.”

To which Y/n replied, “I’m just having fun out there like everyone else,” as she shook her hand (which she hadn’t yet washed after being fucked into oblivion) and felt Harry’s orgasm dripping down her thigh.

There was something so poetic about that moment. The secret that she and Harry shared. The reason why he was 20 minutes late to greeting his fans backstage. And Y/n was the bearer of said secret. Literally, since his come was still inside of her.

And that was just one of many times Harry fucked her in his dressing room. It became a regular thing. He’d gag her to keep her quiet but anyone who stood close enough to the door could hear him moaning and the sounds of skin smacking together and couches rocking. But no one ever said anything. It was Harry’s show after all.

There was one time when they went to an event. The lovely space was packed with people and the table they sat at was mostly Harry’s crew. Jeff and Tom were there and some others. All were people Y/n had gotten to know on some level.

And as per usual, Harry was horny. Y/n had gotten used to his extremely high libido and surprised herself even when she matched him in it. She hadn’t realized she was this way until Harry came along.

She was wearing a custom dress. Nothing like she’d ever had the chance to wear before. She’d worn lovely dresses and her wedding dress, she thought, would have been the nicest article of clothing she’d ever wear. But this dress… this dress was absolutely superior to anything she’d ever laid on her body. She loved it. It fit her so well and flattered her curves and made her feel pretty.

“Want to bend you over this table and spank you so hard right now. Tear this dress off you and make you ride my cock right here at the table,” Harry spoke into her ear as their plates of food were being placed in front of them.

Y/n just smiled and nodded as she listened to him tell her what he wanted to do. That was something she also had started to get used to. He’d do things like this in public and it startled her at first, but after some time she started to enjoy it.

When everyone began eating Harry lowered his hand to her thigh and pulled her dress up. No one could see what he was doing from under the table but Y/n felt it. The material of the dress was slowly lifted until he’d pushed the fabric up enough that he could smooth his palm up between her plush thighs and tickle her pussy with the tips of his fingers.

Y/n let out a gasped laugh and leaned forward before turning to look at Harry in surprise. He only smirked back at her and lifted his brows, “You okay, my dear?”

And Harry usually got his way. If he wanted something he could pretty much always get it. Just like how he wanted her to spread her legs wider so he could have access, she gave it to him. Just like how he wanted to slide two fingers into her cunt, she let him.

To everyone at the table, Harry was holding her thigh. Nothing more. He continued to chat and make jokes as he softly fucked his fingers into Y/n’s pussy.

And the thing about this was that he couldn’t apply much pressure, if any, to her clit, so he fingered her for nearly the entire duration of their dinner. His hand was wet between her legs as he continued slow, meaningful thrusts of his fingers into her.

She was on edge. So absolutely wrecked and worked up that Sarah interrupted the conversation at the table, “Y/n. Are you okay?”

Her chest was rising and falling fast. Harry paused his movements and looked over at his lover and realized, she was indeed a mess. Had barely touched her food when everyone else had just about finished and was panting and sweating. He smiled.

“Oh! Yeah. I… probably should,” she paused to hold back her gasp as Harry pushed his thumb over her clit, “go to the bathroom. Real quick! I’ll be right back!”

Harry was forced to remove his hand from between her thighs and she pushed her skirt down and quickly walked to the hallway where she knew the restrooms were.

Harry excused himself from the table with the excuse to check on her.

Y/n was already rubbing at her clit to make herself come in the stall when Harry barged into the bathroom, “Y/n. Come out, baby. Let me take care of you.”

Her eyes widened and she was quick to walk out of the stall. She needed him badly, “Please, your cock, Daddy,” she said as she lifted her dress and Harry pushed her to lean over the sink and pulled his cock out on her request. He was already hard. Fingering her and feeling her clench around him as she grew wetter and wetter each minute had done him in.

Her panties were ruined. He pushed the drenched material to the side and plunged into her softly as they both moaned, “Rub that pretty little clit for Daddy, baby. Get yourself off.”

It was probably the quickest fuck they’d ever had. Four minutes tops. Y/n was already on fire as her orgasm burst from her core and Harry held her cheeks apart so he could watch his cock, covered in her arousal, slip in and out, in and out until she was coming and shaking and gasping.

White gobs of her come stuck at his base as he continued fucking into her deep and he finally came, filling her to the brim with his come. He pulled out to watch himself drip from her pussy and then pushed himself back in to keep his sperm inside of her where it belonged, “Holy fuck, baby. Your pussy is incredible. Just taking my come like it’s nourishment. Fucking Jesus Christ.”

It felt so good to have Harry inside of her after nearly a half hour of slow, sensual torture with his fingers.

And as they both enjoyed, Y/n dripped of him when they went back to the table to join their friends. No one knew but Harry and Y/n and that was half the fun.

So, yeah, sex with Harry was incredible. Exciting. He never let her feel like she was lacking. He loved using tools on her. Tying her up, clamping her tits and her skin, toys, spanking, spreader bars, cuffs… She’d gotten a taste of what he liked and she loved it all.

And she was pretty sure she loved Harry too. He was the sweetest man. Very attentive and gentle, thoughtful, funny, and honest. But of course, when they were in bed he was dominant and loved to put her in her place but that only added to how much she really liked him. The duality of his nature was exciting to her. And she began to feel more comfortable with her body around him. He never once made her feel bad about her size. He clearly loved every bit of her chub.

So after their whirlwind European trip she was back in Illinois at home and trying to paint while Harry was in LA in the studio working on music and other business endeavors he’d started. They talked every night. She thought the distance would be good for her to focus on her work again but it was like she was blank. Her thoughts were only filled with Harry and what he was doing and the articles with her pictures and comments…

One evening, though, she did have a spark of inspiration. She began sketching out her canvas and mixing colors and finally, after nearly a two-month dry spell, put her brush against the canvas and began to paint. It felt good. She was suddenly struck with the need to create. Hours of building a piece with color and space and lines felt like things had felt before she met Harry.

Her fingers were green and her overalls were splattered and soiled from linseed oil and various hues she’d used on her work when her phone rang. Looking up at the clock she realized it was already 9 pm. Which was the time Harry normally called her every night before he went to the studio (it was 7 pm in LA).

She wiped her hands down her clothes and cursed as she rushed to grab the phone before the call went to voicemail.

It was a Facetime call because of course it was.

“Hello?” She rang out and adjusted the screen so she could see Harry and he could see her. She tried smoothing out her hair and wiping the smudges from her face but there was little she could do to repair her current appearance.

“Hi, baby. I miss you! How are you today?” Harry spoke, his face very close to the phone, and then as he stilled himself and the screen became clear she realized he wasn’t at home. A club perhaps. Maybe someone’s house. Definitely not the studio.

“I’m good. Was just painting a bit. Finally got a spark of creativity tonight. How are you? What are you up to right now?”

Harry sighed and grinned widely, she could tell he seemed a tiny bit tipsy, “I’m at a party and I’ve been telling everyone about you. Wish you were here so you could meet everyone. We’re just chilling, had a couple drinks, then I’m going into the studio in about an hour. Gonna be an all-nighter.”

Y/n nodded and smiled. She wasn’t surprised by any of this. He normally got into the studio late and stayed until 3 or 4 am. He was most creative at that time he told her once.

“Sounds fun. Wish I was there too.”

Just then a young woman nudged into Harry’s shoulder and came in to view on the screen, “Y/n!! It’s you! I’ve heard so much about you!”

She was clearly also tipsy. And just as she was about to respond to the mystery woman she watched as the girl threw her arm over Harry’s shoulder and licked her pink tongue up his neck before kissing it. And it wasn’t just a peck of a kiss. It was quite sensual in fact. As if she were trying to give him a hickey.

Harry laughed and pushed at the girl, prying her arm from him and the girl waved her hand at the video just before moving elsewhere.

“Sorry, Jess is clingy tonight,” Harry smiled and licked his lips.

“Oh is she? Has she been trying to give you a hickey all night then?” Y/n couldn’t help the bit of jealousy that coursed through her. She figured at that point she could trust him. He was a big flirt and she knew this about him. He gave off the wrong impression to people all the time. She’d seen women trying to shoot their shot and he would eventually have them back off but many of them never assumed he was in a relationship. She’d even overhead some women (when she was backstage after concerts) bragging about how they kissed Harry or how they thought they had a shot because he'd been staring at them, which turned out to not be true of course. But it didn’t make the sting feel better.

“No. No, of course not, baby. I wouldn’t let her do that. Only you’re allowed to mark me up.”

“But she’s allowed to lick you and kiss you?”

Harry paused and suddenly the screen was blurry as he appeared to moving through the space to somewhere different.

“Wait, hold on, Y/n.” The screen went dark but she could hear shuffling and some voices until the video showed his handsome face again but now he was outside.

“Please, baby. That was not… she’s been flirting with me a little but it’s all in fun. She’s just a friend. I would never do anything to ruin what you and I have. You know that. God, I wish you were closer so I could tell you in person and see you after the studio. Wake up to you, make love to you…” he trailed off as he spoke but kept his eyes on the screen, his face set in defeat.

“I know how you are, Harry. So I get it. But doing that right in front of me? Kind of tacky. Was she trying to make me jealous? If so, I’d say she’s not a friend.”

Harry groaned and leaned his back to a bench and nodded, “I’ll stay away from Jess. She’s just been finding me all night. I mean, I’ve known her for years so… but you’re right. Sorry.”

Y/n nodded and flattened her lips together. She really hated this. Hated feeling jealous when she figured it wasn’t necessary, hated not being with him, hated how famous he was and how everyone wanted him…

After his call with Y/n, he was careful to dodge Jess. And he hadn’t really been paying much mind to her to be quite honest. Yes, she’d been kind of all over him but he was used to that. Except now he needed to think about his girlfriend and what she might think and how it could be perceived in public. Not that any of the photos from this particular party would come out to the public – it was exclusive and contracts were signed promising privacy and respect of others.

Jess was a friend of Tommy’s and she was often invited to the parties like this and so Harry had gotten to know her over the years. She was always flirty but the question that Y/n brought up was valid. Was Jess trying to make Y/n jealous? It was inappropriate for her to kiss his neck like that when he thought about it with a clear head. Even if he wasn’t on the phone with his girlfriend, that was too intimate of a gesture to be innocent. He couldn’t allow things like that anymore. Not if he wanted to keep Y/n happy. And he didn’t want those kinds of intimate touches from anyone else these days. He missed his girlfriend.

His studio session was productive. He got a lot of writing done and set some vocals down for recording too. But he was still thinking about Y/n. Thinking about how they got off the phone and he’d apologized and she said she was fine but he knew she might not really be. They were too far apart and the distance was a problem. Harry was used to some distance in relationships. It was part of the package that he came with. But he hated it with Y/n more than ever.

He was in love with her. Deeply and madly. In fact many of the songs he started to write after meeting her had something to do with her in one way or another. He couldn’t get her off his mind. He’d dated around and had a couple of serious relationships in the past, but no one left a mark on his heart like Y/n had.

.           .           .

“I’m feeling like I need her with me all the time. But when I offered to fly her out and have her stay here with me in LA she said she thought the distance would be good. I’m going crazy, Pat. I don’t know if she is starting to think about breaking up with me or what. I don’t want her to leave me. But she’s been so aloof lately.”

Pat shifted her leg to cross over her opposite and listened. The man wouldn’t stop talking about Y/n. Every one of their sessions had been dominated by discussions about his new relationship. Harry was sensitive deep down. He had his shit together and he was many times nonchalant about dating and matters of the heart in public, but Pat knew the truth. He was sweet and his heart was delicate.

“Just let her sus everything, Harry. You can’t push her and you know that. She’s probably going through some growing pains with you. You’re uber-famous and everyone loves you and to her, it probably feels like she’s just your girlfriend who gets a lot of mean things printed about her. It’s very likely overwhelming. Maybe she’s trying to get her head on straight and figure out what’s best for her.”

“But what if she learns that she’s better off without me?”

Pat chuckled, “What if she does? Would you still want to force her to be with you?”

Harry sighed deeply and frowned, “I guess I wouldn’t want to make her do anything she didn’t like. But that’s the thing. I know she and I have something special. When we’re together it’s like everything just makes sense. I don’t want her to let all the awful things people make up about her be how she makes her decision. Because what she and I have is incredible.”

“But you’re seeing this from your point of view. Not hers. Give her space if she needs it. Keep open communication but let her decide what she can handle.”

He didn’t like the idea that Y/n would decide he wasn’t worth it. He’d finally found the one he thought was his soulmate. The one he loved and wanted to be with for the rest of time, but now she was stepping back. Putting more space between them than he liked.

And when he offered to come to her she declined that suggestion as well. Stating it would be better to be apart for a bit. Which indicated to Harry she was done or at least considering that idea. But he couldn’t understand it! How could she be done with him? He was so far from done with her. He’d never want to be “done” with her. He wanted to marry her, have babies with her, take her with him everywhere, curl into her body, and let his skin sink into hers for all eternity.

He partly blamed the night he talked to her when Jess made her unfortunate appearance and partly the fans. Harry loved his fans. He enjoyed interacting with them most of the time. He loved the attention and the enthusiasm they gave him. He loved creating for them. But they were the ultimate cock block if there ever was one. Every relationship he’d tried to maintain while being famous had, in the end, been affected deeply by his fans. Social media was brutal as it was, but when fans got ahold of the articles and posted pictures and got “involved” it only led to awful things. Many times social media stirred the pot but the fans kept the lies and the assumptions (conspiracy theories even) flying and going on for longer than it was necessary. But it’s not like he could just drop his fans. They were what his empire was built on. He wouldn’t be doing what he was doing without them. It was all a balancing act.

“I think I’m gonna go see her. Just to talk face-to-face. I can’t go on not knowing what’s really happening and doing it over the phone is not giving me the whole picture.”

“Harry… I think it would be wise to keep her wishes in mind. You are a convincing and charismatic man and so for you to go to her in person could interrupt her rational critique. You could just be doing more harm to the relationship this way. It would be a hindrance more than anything. You might just be prolonging the inevitable and don’t you think it’s better to let things take their course naturally? You don’t always have to make all the moves and sway the outcome. This isn’t a business. This is love and relationship stuff. It doesn’t follow the same rules.”

.           .           .

Y/n had been feeling pretty good. Her mind was clear and her inspiration was at an all-time high. It had been a month since she’d seen Harry in person but they still spoke almost every night. She still loved him. She missed him, but the time apart felt necessary. Felt like she could grasp reality again.

But one thing was certain with the distance. It was that she couldn’t take not seeing him and touching him. She was thriving, but she was beginning to miss him more than she thought she would. Instead of getting easier, it got harder. Her nights would be spent thinking of him, what it would be like living with him, kissing him, marriage, babies… But she wasn’t sure if he was feeling like they were headed in that direction. Because if he didn’t feel like any of that was in their future then the relationship should be stopped. It couldn’t continue to jog along on the same path that it had been. They needed to progress and she needed to know he was committed to her and that he felt the same way. But as it was, their relationship was very good, it just wasn’t the kind of relationship that felt like it could move beyond what it was. She needed to tell him and be honest about what she wanted. Marriage, babies, 100% commitment… But what would happen once she told him all of this? Would he run for the hills? It could very well be the end of them.

.           .           .

She had insisted that he not come to the gallery where her work was displayed. It was in New York City and he begged to come. He told her he would take some time off before the next leg of his tour began. Told her that he had a beautiful spot he always stayed at and she could be with him and he’d take her out to his favorite restaurant in the city… but she said no. And Pat told him to listen to her.

Which was hard for him. Harry didn’t like being told no, and normally, no didn’t matter much (of course depending on the situation). Normally, he’d just go anyway and surprise her and dote on her, and in his mind, she’d be so happy and they’d have amazing sex and things would go back to how they were before she pushed for distance. But that’s not how it went.

Instead, she had a weekend in New York City without him. They spoke every night and she told him everything and he pleaded with her some more to let him come to her but she still said no.

On Sunday when they got off the phone Harry was beside himself. She had been too busy to really talk. She was getting on a flight to go back home so he understood why but that didn’t mean he was okay. He cried. He felt his heart drop and felt her slip away. She didn’t want to see him, she didn’t want his support, and she wouldn’t go to see him either… so what was left?

He’d been good and paying attention to, heeding Pat’s advice. He knew she was right. He knew he couldn’t force her hand in this. But God did it hurt. If only she’d let him visit her she’d see how good they were together. Nothing else mattered.

But he needed to know what she wanted. Because it didn’t feel like she wanted the same thing. They needed to talk, face-to-face, and he needed her to be direct. To rip off the band-aid once and for all. Then he could begin to heal and try to get over her.

When she called him the following day it was unexpected because it was much earlier than they usually had their calls and it was just a call, not a Facetime chat.

“Hi. How are you?”

Harry had had a lump in his throat for the last few days with his thoughts about her. About how she was going to end it. About how she didn’t really want to put in the effort to be with him. That he wasn’t worth it. That his fame and his fans were too much.

“I’m good. You’re calling a bit early. What’s going on?”

“I just had some really good news! A curator bought ten of my paintings and will be hosting an exhibit at David Kordansky and I’ve been invited to go as a guest of honor of sorts, amongst the other artists! It’s going to be all these big names. Oh my god, I’m so excited!”

Harry smiled widely, “Baby, I’m so proud of you. When is the exhibit?”

“It’s next weekend! And you know David Kordansky, right?”

“Uh… no. Sorry. Should I?”

Y/n giggled into the phone, “Oh… it’s just one of the biggest and most popular galleries in Los Angeles.”

Harry’s eyes went wide, “Here? You’re coming here?”

“Yes! God, I’m so excited! You’re the first person I’ve told and I just got the news right before calling you. So, I’m still processing it all. But yeah! And a bonus is that maybe you can come! If you want. If you can!”

“Absolutely. I’ll tell everyone I’m booked next weekend. Spending it with my girl.”

She sighed into the receiver with a big grin on her face, “I can’t wait to see you, Harry.”

.           .           .

Y/n was properly nervous. She had been trying to keep her distance from Harry but it had sort of backfired. She wanted to feel out the situation without his influencing nature and his hot body, and those pink lips pecking at her, his deep voice luring her to see it his way. The longer she was away the more she realized that she could barely breathe without him. She was so far gone for the guy that the distance only made her ache. Yes, she got a bit of her creative spark back, but she felt like that was more of an internal issue than it was to do with Harry.

But her nerves weren’t because she was going to see him after over a month. The nerves were because she needed to confront him with her real feelings and find out if he was on the same page. She had to know once and for all what he wanted. And if any of her ideas of where the relationship should head weren’t on Harry’s radar, well, it had to be over. They couldn’t continue like they were. It was perpetual limbo. Purgatory. She loved him and if she were younger with more time to spare she’d enjoy traveling with Harry and just having fun without expectation of where their final destination would land them. But as it was, she wanted to start having babies in the next few years. And if Harry didn’t then she’d need to start over and begin dating around. And that takes time. So she needed to get a move on. Find someone that wanted the same things she did. If that wasn’t Harry.

She had planned for the worst. All the scenarios in her mind led to them breaking up. She couldn’t imagine that Harry would be willing to settle down with her. He had the whole world at his fingertips. And she was just a girl from the Midwest. She really didn’t imagine that they had much more left to pick at. The pages stopped turning. The well had run dry. It was fun while it lasted.

Harry had his driver take him to the airport to pick her up. She told Harry she could just take a taxi but he didn’t want to miss a single moment with her. Wanted to see her the second she arrived in LA. And he was there. Waiting for her just as he said he would.

He scooped her into his arms and felt tears prick at his eyes, “Oh my god. Y/n… I missed you so much.”

She felt her heart swell and lurch with his arms around her and his lips on her forehead. Right in front of everyone in the airport. Photos were snapped and Harry didn’t care. He looked down at her and she noticed his eyes were glossy, “Harry…” she thumbed at his cheek, “Are you okay?”

Harry sniffed and the tip of his nose was red as he nodded, “I am now.”

She’d been to his house before they went away to Europe. They spent two days having sex and just staying in enjoying one another. Those two days were her favorite memories with Harry. Not that she hadn’t absolutely enjoyed everything else they’d done together and where they spent their time but there was something really special about being in his lovely home doing nothing with him and eating some of the best food she’d ever had (a combination of Harry’s cooking, delivery from some of the best restaurants in LA, and leftovers from a fancy catered party that Harry skipped but had requested two large bags full of yummies dropped off for them).

And the moment Harry had her in his house this time around, they were tearing clothes off and making love on his big bed. Harry didn’t bother with the clamps or ties or the belt this time. He just wanted her. Wanted to show her himself and how much he loved her. In fact, he planned on telling her he loved her soon. He needed her to know how he felt.

And the irony of it all was that Y/n was thinking the same thing. She wanted to tell him how she felt. He needed to know the truth and she needed to know where he stood. But they were both hesitating and it didn’t come out quite the way they intended.

“I think we should talk a little, Harry. I’ve had something on my mind for a bit. It’s… kind of important.”

They were both still naked lying on his bed when she blurted it out. Harry felt his stomach drop. He’d been constantly on edge that she was going to break up with him and he didn’t know if his heart could handle it.

So instead of talking he sat up quickly and got off the bed, “Yeah. Yeah. Let’s talk. Um, I need to take a shower first… and then uh… we can talk. Yeah.”

Harry cried in the shower. Preparing himself for the worst. Trying to get his emotions out and let his body soak in the warm water and calming scent of his shampoo. He was a mess. And he assumed it was over.

And to Y/n, him hopping out of bed like that and running off when she said they should talk, that move was his answer. He didn’t want to talk. He didn’t want to hear her truth. He had no intention of being committed or serious with her. He only wanted sex and fun. And that was great, but she was closing in on 30 and it was time to settle down and find love. And it was clear to her now, that Harry didn’t want that. Or at least not in the way she did.

She paced in his bedroom for a bit after dressing herself but when he was still showering, twenty minutes later she went downstairs and paced in his living room. She saw a bouquet of flowers near the front door at the table with a card in it and she automatically plucked the card out to read. It hadn’t occurred to her that she would be reading anything that could upset her. But she was caught off guard by the message.

“Let’s get dinner tonight, H. I miss you endlessly. Love – O”

She flipped the card over and there was nothing on the back except the name of the florist. No date anywhere. She didn’t know when these were delivered or if he’d had dinner with his ex. Her heart sank and her stomach felt heavy.

She slowly made her way back up the stairs and realized the shower was off. Harry was done. She found him standing on his balcony looking out over his garden. He hadn’t even bothered to find her. To see what she wanted to talk about that she said was important. He clearly didn’t care.

He took a 35-minute shower and then went out to chill on his balcony.

She considered just leaving without a word. Just calling an Uber and leaving for good. Getting a hotel room and forgetting about it all.

But now she was pissed.

She opened the balcony door and Harry was startled when he heard her approaching.

She laughed as she shook her head, “Forget I was even here huh?”

Harry scrunched his brows and shook his head but before he could respond she continued, “That’s okay. I get it. You and I aren’t on the same page. You’re having fun and you’re free and getting invited out to dinner with your ex, and-“

“Wait! What? I don’t-“

Y/n put her hand up, “You heard me. It’s okay. We never made any sort of promises or real commitments. Never said we’d wind up married or together in the end. You’re at your best and you deserve fame and fun and freedom. I’m only holding you back.”

Harry put his hands on her shoulders and shook his head, “No. Y/n… this was what I was worried about that you were-”

“That I want a real relationship? I’m almost 30. I can’t be playing around and traveling the world when I don’t know what you even want. And you just made it clear how disinterested in my concerns you really are-“

“Y/n. Please. What are you-“

“Stop. All you do is tell me what I should think and what I should do. You’re too… you pressure me to see things your way and you never listen. So now you listen to me.” She swallowed to gain her composure and looked up at him squarely so he understood how serious she was, “I can see now clearly, you have no interest in making a family with me. In being with me. You’re just having some fun. And that’s okay. But our fun has come to an end. I can’t go on like this anymore. I need to find someone who wants what I want. Someone who isn’t stuck on their ex and someone who will tell the whole world about me and not pretend that I’m just someone you hang out with.”

Harry shifted on his feet. He hadn’t expected this. In all the scenarios he ran in his mind she was breaking up with him and she didn’t want to be with him and he wasn’t worth it. But she was saying she wanted commitment. He smiled and opened his mouth but Y/n scoffed.

“See? You’re not even taking this seriously! Here I am telling you I’m breaking up with you and you’re smiling! You couldn’t give a shit!”

Harry’s smile fell from his face, “No I was… You’re breaking up with me? Y/n please-“

She pushed him off of her and backed away, “Go and enjoy dinner with Olivia or whoever. I’m out of here.”

Harry ran after her, “No! You can’t leave me! Please that’s not what happened. I didn’t even see her. And if you’d just listen-“

Y/n stomped her foot and turned to face the tall man. She pointed her finger at this chest, “I’m done listening. We’re done. You broke my heart.”

Harry shook his head and followed behind Y/n the whole way to the front door, pleading with her to stop so they could talk but she continued to cut him off.

“Stop! You don’t get to push me into making a decision anymore. It’s over.”

She gathered up her bags and shakily pulled her phone out to bring up her Uber app to call for a car. She was thankful all of her bags were still near the front door.

She rushed out of the house and Harry felt like he was going mad. She wouldn’t let him talk and explain and tell her that he wanted what she wanted. Every time his mouth opened she yelled for him to stop. Screamed even. Had he been so insufferable that this was how she reacted to him?

So he watched with tears in his eyes and his heart in his hands as she loaded her things into the Uber and left him standing at his gate.

He didn’t know what he would do. What could he do? He needed to let her cool off and then he’d go to her and have a conversation. He’d make her see that they’d been on the same page all along.

He called Mitch to get advice.

Mitch asked him why he hadn’t called Pat instead but Harry insisted his best friend would give him the best and most brutal advice, while also supporting him and wishing him luck. Which is actually what happened.

“Go and surprise her at the gallery. Do something ridiculously dramatic and then declare your love for her to everyone in the room. Something like that. I don’t know man. I think you two will work it out. You’re so good together. I think she just needed some time, ya know.”

Harry sighed, “Pat’s going to hate that. But I’ve got to do it, though, right? Do something absolutely nuts to get her to listen to me.”

.           .           .

Y/n had the worst, absolutely the most horrible, awful evening. She bawled her eyes out and barely slept. Harry hadn’t even tried reaching out to her. Not that she really wanted that. She half expected it. But it only solidified everything to her. She imagined he probably slept like a baby.

The following day was the exhibit. She was not prepared. Not mentally anyway. Her tears had barely dried by the time she was entering the gallery. She put on a happy face and forced herself to talk and smile. But she only felt the dread of what had happened the day before.

The curator greeted her, bringing a glass of champagne for her to sip, “I’m amazed by your work. I think your collection fits in so nicely here. But you know I’m holding on to all your pieces until one day someone offers me a million each for them,” he laughed and Y/n smiled. She doubted that would ever happen.

The evening should have been amazing. She was meant to have Harry with her and it was supposed to be a big night for her. Something that could potentially change the trajectory of her career. But Y/n wasn’t happy. Her exciting moment was clouded by thoughts of Harry and how she loved him but now it was over.

Through the doorway opposite the entrance was a small bar area. Guests could go get their drinks and then head back into the gallery. But there were a few bar tables and some stools. Y/n had been eyeing it all night. A moment to get away and sit by herself for a while.

The room was darker and quieter, even though it was open to the main gallery. The small high-top tables had four tall, cushioned stools around each. The only person in the bar was the bartender.

“Hi. Can I have a glass of chardonnay?” Y/n leaned into the bar and her eyes settled over the array of colorful bottles lined up behind the young lady who stood at the bar.

The young woman smiled, “Sure. Anything in particular? Would you like to see what I’ve got?”

“Not really. This is going to sound so bad, but just the cheapest one.”

Y/n dug into her small clutch to pull out her phone card and then waited as the young lady poured a glass of Y/n’s cheap glass of wine.

“Your art is excellent. I’m a big fan.” The woman looked over her shoulder as she plumbed the top of the bottle with the cork and placed it back into the small fridge below the counter.

“You know my work?” It was not expected. She didn’t think the bartender would know the artists by their faces alone.

“Yes! Of course. I usually get to know who the artists are that have their pieces here. Yours is outstanding.”

She felt her face get warm from the odd feeling she always got when someone loved her work and recognized her. She still hadn’t gotten used to that feeling yet but she enjoyed it nonetheless.

When she took the glass she thanked the lady for the wine, “And, thank you for the kind words too. That means a lot to me.”

She took a deep breath and sipped her wine in the empty space as she attempted to let her bad mood dissolve. She knew it was impossible to let it go completely. Her wound was so fresh. She’d just gotten her heart broken and that would take some time to grapple with. But she knew she could be okay because she’d dealt with and come through the worst kind of tragic loss anyone can imagine. Losing Robert devastated her. For a very long time. She’d only gotten to a place where she felt she was ready to find love again. And her short time with Harry was nothing in comparison to what she’d suffered. So yeah, she’d been through far worse. She’d be okay.

The music that played in the small space was slow and the tune sounded a lot like an old Foo Fighters song. But it was all instrumental and she couldn’t be sure. She pulled out her cell phone and decided to text her sister. Catch up a bit. Feel something sweet and nostalgic to get her mind off of her sorrows.

She smiled when her sister texted back with a picture of the kids.

She looked up and paused to listen closely to the music playing again. Yeah. It was an instrumental version - definitely Foo Fighters. Everlong. That was the song! She snapped her fingers and smiled again as he looked back at the picture of her nieces.

“Excuse me, Mrs. Y/n. This is for you.” The bartender laid an envelope down on the table. It had her name written on it.

This felt very reminiscent of-

She looked around the room and out into the gallery, where people fitted in lovely outfits and amazing hairstyles milled about, in search of the one person that might have had something to do with this.

She looked back down at the envelope and toward the young lady who had already gone back behind the bar, “Who gave this to you?” She was hesitant to open it.

“Ms. Adams. The gallery’s director. She said it was from a very special guest.”

A very special guest.

She wasted no more time in ripping the top of the envelope open knowing already who it was from.

She braced herself for what she might read on the folded paper inside. Her heart walloped in her chest and she felt her throat go dry as she carefully pulled the paper out and unfolded it.

I’m sorry for the way things happened yesterday. I wanted to tell you so much more. I need you in my life, Y/n. Take a drink in the director’s office with me? Please? - H

She swallowed thickly and placed the paper down on the lacquered wood. The words stared up at her. Very reminiscent of that night. Their first night together.

She decided to take a moment. Finish her glass of wine and find her resolve. She’d see him. Because of course, she would. She’d fallen for the guy and perhaps closure would be good. For both of them. She tried not to get her hopes up.

But even with the idea that she wouldn’t get her hopes up, from the very base of her spine, small bursts of hope began spreading over her back, warming her up and causing the edge of her lip to flick upward the tiniest bit.

She had to stop. She couldn’t allow the butterflies and the warmth to cover her chest. This wasn’t an olive branch. This wasn’t hope. But that was what her body was feeling, the way it reacted after reading his words.

Stop.

She read the note again and the right side of her mouth quirked but she stifled the smile that tried breaking out over her features.

“Uh, hi!” She scooted off her stool and waved at the bartender, “Do you know where the director’s office is by chance?” The young woman smiled, “Follow me, Ms. Y/n.”

Y/n followed behind the young woman to a doorway at the far end of the room and into a hallway. Framed prints were hung along the wall and the floor was dark wood while the walls were a light cream. A few doors were passed, the bathrooms, a numbered room, until finally, they reached the director’s office.

The woman knocked before turning the knob to open the door and stood back, “Here you are.” She gestured at the open door.

“Thank you.” Y/n wavered in her movements wondering if this was the right thing. Should she entertain this idea? Of course, she was going to entertain this idea, but part of her wanted to keep her tough exterior and remain firm in her decision.

Slowly pushing the door further open, she stepped into the threshold and was met with a quaint office-sized room. The same dark wood floors sprawled below her feet, but the very first thing her eyes landed on was that of Harry holding a bouquet of flowers and wearing a soft smile.  

She closed the door behind her and stepped in a couple of feet. He was in a well-fitted navy suit and he looked tired. But he was handsome.

The thought quickly hit her. How did he get in here? Who let him use the director’s office? But then, as he ran his ringed fingers through his hair and she saw remnants of chipped nail polish she was reminded of who he was. Not just her lover or her ex. But he was Harry. Everyone knew him or knew of him. Of course, he was allowed in the director’s office.

“Hi, Y/n,” Harry spoke reticently as he held out the bouquet to her.

He wasn’t sure she’d come to him or that she’d want to even talk to him. And he thought about making a grand gesture. Take over the audio system and declare his love publicly before everyone as he walked out into the crowd toward her. Make a scene. Make her listen. Have everyone rooting for them. Rooting for him.

But that wasn’t right. That would have been too pushy. Not fair. This night was about her. If he’d gone about it the way he wanted it would have had all eyes on him.

He knew, though, that he needed to be here with her. To tell her how he really felt and what he wanted and then if she still wanted that with him, still wanted to be with him, they could end the night the way it was meant to be ended. Together.

“Hi, Harry,” Y/n spoke softly, keeping her eyes on his eyes as she took the lovely bouquet full of pink peonies and soft cream roses.

Harry gestured toward the brown Midcentury style couch, “Will you sit with me? I won’t take up much of your time if you don’t want. I just wanted to say some things.”

The couch was large enough for just two people. Harry was glad she had to sit so close to him. He wanted to eat her up she looked so pretty and so sweet. And just the fact that she’d come to him to entertain a conversation had him soaring.

Placing the bouquet down on the glass coffee table, Y/n noticed the bottle of wine and two glasses as he pointed, “Would you like a glass?”

Nodding her head, Harry pulled the cork out and poured her a bit of the red wine. She felt like she should say no just for the fact that she’d only just finished a glass of white wine and surely it would make the red wine taste odd. But ultimately she figured she could use another glass of wine.

“Yesterday I was working up the courage to tell you how I want to be with you for good,” Harry said as he leaned his back into the cushion behind him with his own glass of wine, “Wanted to tell you how serious I am about you. But I thought you were planning on breaking up with me so I needed a minute to figure out how I was going to convince you to stay.”

Y/n’s eyes bounced over his features as she cinched her brows inward. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Had he wanted the same thing she did the whole time?

“And I’m so sorry that it seemed to you like I was putting off a serious conversation with you. That’s my fault. I should have stayed there with you in bed and listened to you right off. Even if it meant potentially having you break up with me,” he licked his lips and sighed, “Instead, I did what I normally do and tried and figure out a way to make something work in my favor. So I paused that moment hoping you’d change your mind, or that I could come up with something. Prolonging it for the sake of just holding on to you a little longer.

“It’s because I’m selfish and I like to control the narrative. But that’s never been fair to you. So, I understand if my apology is no good anymore. I just felt like maybe I can tell you what was really happening in my head yesterday. Because that part, you did have wrong.”

Y/n blinked her eyes and nodded, “Well, then… I guess I’m sorry too. Because it sounds like I might have jumped to conclusions. I just didn’t think you’d want something serious. Long term. But there’s more to it than just that you know?”

Harry frowned and shook his head, “What do you mean?”

Y/n could see how timid Harry had been since the moment she walked into the room with him. She felt the need to help assuage him so she turned her body toward his and pulled his hands into hers before speaking, “I mean that I’m getting older and I think it’s time for me to really settle down. For good. I mean…” she breathed out a nervous laugh, “like, babies, marriage… death. All that. That’s what I mean.”

Harry nodded and raised his brows, “Yeah?”

Y/n grinned as Harry’s thumbs ran along the sides of her hands. The corner of his mouth pulled upward. She could see his swagger return in almost an instant. His eye contact was solid and his dimples carved into his cheeks.

“Well, yeah,” she started to feel flustered by his proximity, the way she could see his pupils roaming over her face and watching her mouth, “I’m not saying we need to get married but like,” she swallowed, “I’d like for us to be serious enough to know that we’d be headed that direction if things are good. And I know you’re super famous and that’s why yesterday I just…”

“I want to be with you. I want it all with you.” Harry bowed his head, finally breaking eye contact and his hands tightened around hers, “I thought you were done with me. I thought you were going to break up with me and that I wasn’t going to be worth all the trouble for you. Because I know this is a lot.”

“No. I just thought you wouldn’t want what I wanted and the way you reacted to me telling you I wanted to talk and how you didn’t come to find me after you were done showering… I felt like you were trying to figure out the best way to break it to me- either that or you were trying to avoid me. I just… Thought the worst.”

She couldn’t have described the way her insides were pulsing and expanding and churning. She’d spent the better half of the day reeling over losing him. Over knowing she might not get to look into his eyes in this way again. Might not see the small freckles on his face again and the way he blushed despite being so sure of himself. But here she was sitting with Harry and in under three minutes everything had changed. If she had just listened yesterday. If he had just listened.

“But so did I. That’s why we’re in this mess. I thought you were breaking up with me and so my behavior made you think the worst.”

Y/n smiled and allowed herself to indulge in his eyes and in the grin he was holding back and the way his fingers felt on hers… Was she just dreaming? Was she just about to wake up and realize it had all been a dream?

“Is it okay if I… ?” He pulled at her gently and slowly wrapped his arms around her and she smelled his familiar cologne. She loved how this felt. Hugging him. Feeling his solid body against hers. She eased into his hold and wrapped her own arms around him.

Harry whispered into her ear, “I should have told you everything yesterday. Let you talk and then we wouldn’t have gotten in this mess. It’s me and you, Y/n. Okay? Me and you. That’s what I want.”

Tears of relief and elated joy broke from her waterline and Harry pulled her in tighter, kissing her temple, “I thought you were done with me. I thought you wanted to break up with me,” the anguish in his voice was not missed. He’d been hurting too.

Harry brushed his palm up and down on her back slowly and pressed his lips to the top of her head, “God I was so worried this was it for us. Fuck. I’m not letting you leave me again like you did. I can’t be away from you like that, Y/n.”

Pulling her head back to look up at him she did see the glisten in his eyes from the start of tears. She knew hers matched. It all felt like a dream. But just in case it was real she needed to speak the words. Sliding her hands upward and cupping his face she was nearly trembling from relief and excitement, “I love you, Harry.”

Harry closed his eyes and pressed his forehead into hers, clutching her lovely dress tightly, “God, I love you, Y/n.”

.           .           .

Stepping into the gallery with all the other people in the room and having Harry by her side felt surreal. Everyone was watching them. She was okay to share this night with him. There was no way around it that people wouldn’t be interested in her because of her boyfriend. She figured that would be something she’d just have to get used to.

Harry squeezed her hand tight and she looked up at him. He looked proud. So important with a big, pleased smile on his lips as he looked down at her.

“You realize you’re coming back home with me after this. Right? And I’m never letting you leave me again.”

Harry had grown a lot as an individual. He still had moments where he could be pushy and use his charm to get the things he wanted, but he figured some things just couldn’t be totally trained out of him. He allowed Y/n to make her own choices. He gave her space when she needed but she came back to him in the end. He wanted her to be his and everything they’d done that had gotten them to where they were currently had worked out. So Harry had no regrets about coming to her on this night.

“Of course, I’m coming home with you. I’d be offended if you assumed otherwise,” she smirked happily. “And I wouldn’t dream of leaving you again.”

Harry couldn’t wait to get her home and make love to her. Seal it all together in finality. He knew that tonight was just the beginning for them.

And as if they could both read one another’s minds they smiled and paused together in time. Everything had finally come together for them. At last.

A/N: This is the last part of this series! Would love your feedback!

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[blu3-ja3]

What 141 listens to over speakers when working out alone... I think next maybe civie clothes? Probably!

Soap: European Rap (Northern Boys and Shogun) and he plays loud, the boy got some hearing loss due to all the explosions. He mostly listens to them for the beats and less the lyrics much to the chagrin of the 141. He refuses to not listen to them but does add more variety to his play list.

Ghost: Classical Music, I just love the idea of Simon going hard, weight lifting and solo boxing, blasting Bauq. He's like the most intimidating soldier on base and most everyone avoids the training room when he's in there. So no one believes Roach when he yaps about Ghost listening to Mozart while beating the shit out of him in the ring. Only the 141 knows the truth.

Gaz: British alternative, The Muse and Gorillaz, he likes the rhythm and it's easy for him to get into a good groove while training. He's been to as many concerts as he can big or small, the man enjoys music and often goes to see local bands. But at base he deals without his live music fix by listening to his favorites.

Roach: White girl pop and cunty rap, like full on Megan Thee Stallion and Kesha blasting as loud as possible. His play list is called Gaslight, Gatekeep, Girlboss. He likes to feel powerful and what better hype music is there than the hype music meant for American women. He likes setting up karaoke nights so he can convince Soap and Gaz to screech the lyrics with him drunkenly.

Price: Old man country, Johnny Cash and Marty Robbins, he likes his cowboy country and who can blame him its the best kind of country. He absolutely loves American westerns and is part of the reason he joined the military, to become a Western hero. It's why he often goes off the rails and does what he believes is right. Gaz likes to tease him about his slight obsession but truly thinks it cute.

O'Connor: Rock but like Horny Rock, she's absolutely blasting shit like Closer by Nine Inch Nails and Bad Touch by Bloodhound Gang because she knows she'll have the room alone. The few times one of the boys came in to work out they seemed to be red as hell. O'Connor finds it extremely funny, she's a raging lesbian listening to mostly straight men singing about sex and fucking. The fact that it can make even Ghost squirm just the smallest bit helps fuel the continuation of the habit. She knows the main reason she does is so she doesn't force herself to wear long sleeves to hide her scarred body.

COD Master List

[harlowtales]

Jack finds the love of his life who has never been kissed…or anything else 😘

♥️💝♥️

18+ Adult Themes - Romance/Drama/Sex

“Jack stop.” You said, unsure where this was going. You had never kissed anyone let alone had sex. It was time to say something before things went too far. You were saving it for the right person…your husband, and a rapper was definitely not it. You shouldn’t even have taken his invitation to go to the movies but Jack seemed very sweet and down to earth. You figured there was no harm in a movie, but it was going too fast. His hands were starting to go places. You were in the back of an old theatre watching an Alfred Hitchcock movie as they were Jack’s favourite movies.

“Y/N what’s wrong? I thought we were feeling each other” Jack said confused as he sat back.

“Well right here…right now was my first kiss. Jack I…I’m a virgin.” There was no other way than to just tell him. Your palms were sweating and your heart was beating so loudly you thought the whole empty theatre could hear it.

“Say on god.” Jack said in shock

“Swear to god.” You said earnestly “I’m sorry. Can you take me home?”

“If I ruined everything I’m so sorry Y/N.” Jack apologized “I will absolutely take you home if that’s what you really want.”

“I feel so stupid. I usually know better than to waste the time of someone like you. I mean, you’re Jack Harlow. Of course you want to…well you know.” You said in embarrassment.

“Right here, I can tell you I would fucking marry you if I knew it wouldn’t scare the shit out of you.” Jack said in disbelief that he had found a 24 year old virgin. “If you let me be the first, I will be your only.”

“Jack please. I need to go.” All you wanted to do was escape this moment. You weren’t prepared for wanting to do it with him in that movie theatre and that scared you. Jack was incredibly handsome and charming. He was intelligent and funny, tall and distinguished. Everything you ever dreamed of in a man was all in him. You had to get away from him as soon as humanly possible.

You pulled up in front of your parent’s house and your dad instantly peeled the living room curtains back to make sure you didn’t hang out too long in Jack’s car. Jack had to actually introduced himself to your father and ask to take you out in the first place. He saw you with your family at an event his mother put on for charity and knew he had to shoot his shot. Your dad insisted on him coming to the house and properly introducing himself first. It felt like the 1950’s but he appreciated it. Now you being a virgin was all starting to make sense.

“Ughh. He’s literally going to stare at us until I’m in the door. You better walk me to the door or he’ll think you weren’t raised right.” You cautioned.

“Y/N it’s all fine.” Jack laughed “I ain’t going away so pops better get used to me.”

“What? You mean, this isn’t the end?” You said in surprise.

“Why would it be? Cuz I got bitches on speed dial?” Jack said characteristically raising an eyebrow. “If you let me be your first, you would be my only girl. Anything else I had going on would be done for me. Let me make it special for you Y/N.” Jack put a soft hand on your thigh.

You felt a heat rising in you that you never felt before. “Jack call me um…call me later. I have to go. He’s watching us. Open my car door, walk me to the door. Don’t hold my hand. Don’t kiss me on the cheek. Say goodnight to him and shake his hand. Got it?” You said giving Jack the cheat code to dealing with your strict parents.

After some weeks Jack kept calling and spending time with you whenever he could. He FaceTimed you from his European tour and it was no pressure. He never even mentioned sex. You started to think you not putting out had caused him to lose interest in you romantically and it was just turning into a friendship. Jack wanted you more and more, he just didn’t want to scare you away so he was being patient.

The tour was over and he was finally back home. He knew he had to ease you into thinking he was the right one to lose your virginity with. He decided to go to your house and approach your parents about dating you seriously. If that’s what it took that’s what he was willing to do.

Jack was sweating he was so nervous. Your parents came into the living room with just the clock ticking in the background.

“So Y/N tells me you want to date her.” Your dad said

“I know you’re strict. I want to respect that.” Jack said seriously. You were sitting across from him as sitting on the same couch would not have been deemed appropriate by your parents.

“Very protective.” Your mother chimed in “Why does someone in your line of work want to date my daughter?”

“My line of work? You mean a rapper?” Jack said with a tinge of sass. You shot him a look to chill.

“Yes. Entertainment is not for our girl.” Your dad said

“Well I would make sure she’s always with me and protected. I’m very protective as well. You can ask my family that I’m very close too.” Jack explained.

“She can date on a few conditions. She has to check in with us and no sex before marriage. Do you intend on marrying her or is she just one of your many girls?” Your mother asked embarrassing you.

Jack started turning red partly from embarrassment and partly from getting a bit upset. He was sure he would propose at some point or he would have left your house from this grilling by your parents.

“I know I have a reputation but I have intentions of marrying your daughter as soon as she’s ready.” Jack said. A lump formed in his throat. He wasn’t planning on saying that but it came out and he wasn’t sorry. The silence that followed was amplified by the ticking clock.

“Is anyone going to ask me what I want? Do I matter?” You said raising your voice. “I am 24 mom, dad, come on! I’m a grown woman! I’ve done everything you wanted my whole life. I want to date Jack…I will date Jack.”

“Y/N! Really? Hunny you see? He’s influenced her already!” Your father said to your mother like Jack wasn’t there.

“How rude! Jack is right here.” You said

“Y/N please your parents are right. Maybe I should go.” Jack said making s move to leave.

“I’m coming.” You said defiantly

“Walk out the door and don’t come back.” Your dad said.

“Oh fine with me.” You huffed.

“Y/N these are your parents. Please, listen to them.” Jack pleaded with you much to your parent’s surprise.

“Well Jack. Son. I’m impressed with you.” Your dad said “I approve, but talk some sense into her.”

“Will do sir. She’s safe with me.” Jack said assuredly

“What was that? I thought you were on my side?” You said haughtily as you left with Jack to go for a drive.

“I fucking got my hands full.” Jack murmured

“Excuse me?” You said like a spoiled brat.

“Listen princess let’s get one thing straight ok?” Jack said heading away from the park.

“Jack where are we going?” You asked concerned

“Shush for fuck sakes.” Jack said rolling his eyes with a slight giggle

You pulled into the parking of a building and headed into an elevator. When the doors opened to a sprawling condo you realized he had taken you to his penthouse apartment. “Get comfy cuz this is where you’ll probably wind up with your attitude. Geez I feel sorry for your parents. Hungry?”

“Ummm yes. Yes please Jack. Thank you.” You said instantly more polite.

“That’s better.” Jack said kissing you on the forehead. “I want this place to be your place but you have to behave.”

“Ok sir Jack sir!” You said saluting him and laughing.

“Oh yeah? You getting cheeky?” Jack said towering over you. You were like a magnet for him. He pulled you close into a passionate kiss. Your space ached like you had never felt. You longed to be his in every way.

“Y/N I can take you home if…” but you cut Jack off with another deep kiss to his amazement “Take me.” You said looking him right in the eye.

“Y/N come on…” but you pulled Jack towards his bedroom.

“Now? You sure?” He said cautiously

“Please Jack. I need you.” You said in agony

“Baby…I’m scared. I don’t want to hurt you.” He said caressing your hair.

“I know it will hurt but if not now…when?” You reasoned looking up at him.

“Y/N there’s no rush. I meant it. I will marry you.” Jack promised, knowing he was caving in fast. You had a hold on him that was undeniable.

“Come.” He commanded as he sat on the bed and opened his legs for you to stand in front of him. You obeyed and went closer.

He began going up your shirt, fondling your breasts and kissed your bare stomach. You threw back your head and moaned. You saw Jack growing and reached down to touch him but he stopped your hand.

“No. I…I’m sorry Y/N this doesn’t feel right. I’ll take you back.” Jack said. In his mind it was going to happen so differently. He brought you to his place for you to start getting comfortable there. He was used to being around you…wanting you and not being able to really be inside you, he was the one that was hesitant now, and how crazy and special would it be for him to marry a virgin. “We’re not married. This isn’t right.” He couldn’t imagine the looks on your parent’s faces if they found out.

“Are you kidding me? They got to you. They fucking got to you. Wait….you’re not into me anymore are you? I knew it. It felt like a friendship last little while. I should have known.” You burst into tears “I’m not model gorgeous and exciting like what you’re used to.”

“Baby…no no no I have never been in love until now. Did you know that?” Jack said looking at you as you sat on his lap now. “I am very attracted to you. Don’t worry.”

“Then make love to me….Please Jack.” You said softly drawing him into a kiss.

“Ok, I…ok.” He said unable to refuse any longer. You pulled your shirt off over your head and stepped out of your jeans. He was in awe of how perfectly your breasts hung and the curve of your body. “I can’t believe I’m the first to ever see all this and touch you…be inside you.” Jack breathed overcome with emotion.

He gently laid you down kissing and caressing your body. You gasped having never felt such sensations. “Oh god Jack.”

There was no turning back now. He had waited so long.

“It hurts too much and I’m stopping ok?” Jack said lovingly. You nodded in agreement under him, drinking in his aroma and feeling his chest. He tried not to put his full weight on you as your legs opened to take him in. He tested your space dipping in with the head only and pulling back. It was such a foreign feeling you held your breath from the pressure slowly pressing into you.

“You ok?” He asked as he hovered over you about to re-enter a little more.

“Put it all the way in. I’m ok.” You assured him

“We can just play with each other baby. We don’t have to do this all the…” Jack was trying to say

“Can you please just…I want to feel all of you.” You said a bit frustrated and anxious

“Ok baby. Hold onto me ok?” Jack cautioned. He was beyond excited but had to contain himself for your comfort. He held his shaft steadily as he guided it in carefully. You were wet with anticipation but it still was painful. You tried to hide it as much as possible to not make Jack feel bad, but he saw the look on your face and paused afraid to stroke in and out. One thing for sure, your future husband was gifted and it would take getting used to.

“Oh, uhhh, oh my god.” You breathed unable to make sense of the new pain and slight pleasure you were starting to feel as Jack slowly glided partially out and slid back in.

“Ah fuck you feel good baby.” He said breathlessly in your ear. “I’ve waited for this moment” Jack was poised on top of you and concentrating on being as gentle as possible as he went in further and further. Tears started welling up in your eyes with a burning pain radiating through your abdomen and legs as he picked up some speed and put more weight behind his thrusts. You held onto him tightly unable to really move.

After a few moments he suddenly cried out “Uh Y/N!! Baby” You felt your flesh tear apart inside and a warm sensation run down your thighs. There was blood on the sheets from your hymen popping. You were mortified.

“Oh my god Jack!” You exclaimed in tears. He immediately stopped and headed to the bathroom to start the shower and bring you a towel. He wiped you up lifted you off the bed and carried you to the shower. He held you from behind, his arms supporting you as he sung a Bryson Tiller song gently. His smooth melodic voice amplified in the shower filled you with warmth as the pain started to subside.

He wrapped you in a towel and held your hand to his closet where he dressed you in his shorts and hoodie. He combed your hair for you and settled you on the couch. After grabbing you a snack he went to strip the bed sheets and ran back to snuggle with you.

“Are you ok baby?” He asked sweetly “Do you need anything else?”

“Jack please just relax with me. Thank you for looking after me.” You said tiredly. It had been a rollercoaster of emotions your stomach ached, your space hurt, and your legs were like jello. He snuck in behind you and you rested on him as he covered both of you in a blanket.

“After all that you get the remote Mrs. Harlow…this one time ok?” He joked. You giggled snuggling up to him and falling asleep.

@itsyagirljaz @okaaay-mice

[chitty-chitty-bang-bang-bang]

“Kissing Vampires 101”

Requested by @rthounasty

Word Count: 881 words

Age restriction: 16+ (based on adult media)

Tags: Fluff, a bit of crack, descriptions of kisses, but nothing too sexual

Synopsis: Well, it’s been a good date and it seems like both of you are ready to make a step forward in your relationship.

Author’s note: I’m so sorry this took ages, but I hope you like it •3•

________________________________

You’re not sure what it was. Was it the hot asphalt under the sole of your shoes? Was it the damp, warm July air enveloping you in a figurative hug? Was it the cheap alcohol, that was still in your system? Or was it your hot European date you met through your friend Stu? No matter the reason, you were blushing and feeling giddier than ever. It was your third date with Vladislav and you couldn’t imagine it going any more perfectly.

You two went to a karaoke bar and delivered the worst performance of some random really old songs, that nobody else but you knew. Still, somehow you managed to receive some applause and Vladislav believed it’s due to both of yours undeniable charm and wild charisma. You argued, that he’s the only one with these qualities here, but he disagreed. After that, both of you were already pretty tipsy (though you’re not sure what Vladislav was drinking), so you decided to take a stroll around the night city to the pier and let the alcohol wear off a bit.

The scenery was mesmerising, water reflected the flashing lights of many buildings behind you and the whole setup seemed serene and romantic. It’s been a while since you were on a proper date, much less with someone you were this interested in. And it was the first time in forever, when neither you, nor your partner were fumbling this. You stood there for almost an hour just talking about all kinds of stuff. Past, present, even future. That’s how you found out you’re not the only one, who’s hoping for something serious with this relationship and you felt like jumping victoriously.

But now, the date was over. It was already way too late for both of you to be out on the streets and Vlad gladly walked you home. Though standing here in front of him and looking in his eyes, the last thing you wanted was for this moment to end. It just started getting interesting and you couldn’t imagine just turning to face the door and leave. That’s when a very bold idea popped into your alcohol poisoned brain.

“Vlad, if I’m being honest, this is the best time I’ve had in years.” You said to prolong his stay.

“This is the best time I had in centuries.” He laughed and you joined.

“Do you watch a lot of romcoms?” You got a bit closer.

“What are romcoms?”

“Romantic Comedies, you know? Like a genre of movies. Really cheesy shit, I won’t lie. But I like ‘em sometimes.”

“Maybe you could show me one day. I’m more used to romantic tragedies.” He shrugged.

“Anyways, the point I’m making is… Our date was like the cheesiest of cheesy romcom tropes and if this evening was like, uh, part of a movie… it would end in a kiss scene. Or a confession. But we already confessed before.”

You saw Vladislav’s eyes widen and for a moment you were sure you crossed some kind of a boundary, that shouldn’t have been be crossed. But then he took a step closer too, almost completely eliminating any free space between you. A dumb smile spread on your face, as you anticipated what he was going to say or do next.

“You want me to kiss you?” You nodded. You already learned, that with this man straightforwardness is key. “Okay.”

He leaned in, a bit hesitantly. You didn’t know that, but he hadn’t kissed a human in longer than he could remember. Nonetheless, the space between you completely disappeared, as your lips intertwined, trapping the hot air between you. Each second stretched out the way an eternity would, as both of you salvaged the sweet moment you were hoping to experience for so long now. Vladislav could keep going for way longer, it seemed, but you had to pull away to get air.

Slightly panting, you unconsciously mumbled a “wow” and smiled like a clueless idiot, collecting your thoughts, which were turning into soft mush of incomprehensible happiness. Vlad smiled at the look on your face and gently put his hands on your shoulders.

“Is this what you wanted?” He asked, not letting the two of you drift apart.

You nodded rapidly. “Yes, honestly…” you whispered the last part. “That was awesome.”

He huffed out a quiet laugh, before finally making a few steps back. He looked at the horizon for a second, as if checking for something, then returned his gaze back to you, with his arms on his hips in a rather disappointed manner.

“I’m sorry, [reader]. I have to go.”

“Oh… okay. Can you, uh, give me a call when you’re home? Maybe we could meet up sometime again. There’s this cool bowling club around…” You said, watching how Vladislav kept frantically looking at the horizon.

“Yes, that sounds great. I will defined call you. Goodbye, [reader].” He lent you one more quick peck on the lips, before hurrying away from your house.

You noticed the sky getting slightly brighter, changing from dark blue to a more pastel colour. It was almost sunrise and you didn’t even realise how long your date took. You turned around and finally entered your apartment with deeply buried excitement for your next date with Vladislav.

[theboytatu]

sometimes i think about chanyeol. idk he just pops up. rockstar chanyeol is such a thing to me like. he is not a kpop idol he is more. he is an artist, he is a performer so good i would have loved him even without exo. his cover of wind of change by scorpions at music bank in berlin did more for the acceptance of korean music among the old gen eastern europeans (and germans) than beets cpuld ever imagine doing. like he ended generational wars with it. my mother recognises only him and wayvs pets. and i'm kinda drunk rn and i don't make sense but. i had a friend who went because of his gf and he doesn't even like kpop but he cried at that performance and he wasn't the only one. this was our scorpions in moscow after the fall of the iron curtain. in a way. like he did this.

oh my god oomf... you have no idea how much i appreciate this message like no literally... LITERALLYYYY speak your truth i couldn't agree more!! sometimes i think he made a mistake becoming a kpop idol. i think he should be an actual musician cause the idol industry is so constricting and they tried to lock him up in the rapper box because kpop (and specially SM manufactured kpop) is built on boxes and it's like. god. he is really so much more/so different than this. and so few people realize. and this isn't to trash idols cause there are plenty of kpop idols who ARE artists and musicians and visionaires. but chanyeol simply doesn't fit the mold sm has assigned him and it's clear to see.

he should be at the club (the club being his own production house where he writes and creates his own music and plays guitar and tours the world like the rockstar he was meant to be). he should not be pandering to ungrateful kexols who have his career held for ransom and will dictate his success based on how much fanservice he provides. he should be out here taking a page from gdragon's or monsta x changkyun's book and leaving an idol company in favor of a real music label like warner korea or whatever.

ANYWAY..... here's the winds of change cover again cause we all deserve to see it at least once. im so jealous of your friend for having experienced it live.

[ambyandony]

Giorno Giovanna - Monster AU Profile

(hopefully screen-reader-friendly edition with detailed image descriptions)

Giorno Giovanna, part vampire, part... human..? and part... something else.

guest appearance from limbo because she's the only lycanthrope who was applicable to use

Preface about species type:

In the Monster AU, 'standard' vampires are a little more like traditional European folklore / pop-culture vampires. While some JoJo vampire rules still apply, so do many traditional vampire rules. Being only part-vampire also changes the rules somewhat. Usually to his benefit, making his vampirism-related weaknesses less potent against him. And there’s something else about him… he doesn’t seem to be a full 50% vampire and 50%…human.

His other behaviours seem consistent with a somewhat rare, rather misrepresented species… The Gentry.

Details related to Part-Vampirism:

Sunlight will not burn Giorno. It may slightly irritate his skin and eyes and will diminish a majority of his vampiric abilities when he is directly in it for too long, but it will not burn him.

He has little to no reaction to garlic. He’s just not that into it. This isn’t to say garlic necessarily has 0 effect on vampires (it’s mostly just an extreme irritant and deterrent, really), but it’s only about half as effective on him, and he’s lived in Italy since age four so he’s built up a tolerance.

Heightened sense of perception, especially in the presence of blood. In the presence of fresh blood, he becomes hyperaware.

Craves blood but probably can survive just fine without consuming it (he just won’t).

Automatic boost to charisma. Everybody agrees vampirism does this

Excellent regeneration ability. Stop cutting off your arms.

Has to stop to count spilt rice.

Can be around and make some contact with holy objects, but prolonged contact with them will cause him harm. He can be inside a church, but he tends to be inflicted with great discomfort or sometimes pain simply from stepping inside one.

Can be seen in mirrors! But only in some mirrors so he has to be careful. If it’s silver-backed, he can’t be seen. Silver-backed mirrors are less common nowadays (and by nowadays I mean also in 2001) but they’re still around so he has to be careful about mirrors in public places lest he out himself as a vampire.

Often has to be invited into a house. Or… perhaps just prefers to be?

Popular to contrary belief, he does have blood. His own blood usually doesn’t make him hyperaware though, as drinking his own blood would be completely pointless.

Details related to Faehood:

Seems very intent on people giving him their Names…

Occasionally steals your gender

Takes promises very seriously… and never breaks one. If he appears to do so, that’s on you. That’s something you did. You know who you are.

Sometimes looks a little… different. In a way you can’t quite place…

Seems to have an iron allergy. Which may be part of the reason he doesn’t presently drink blood despite his craving for it.

Details about Giorno:

Smug, pretentious, and a little bitch.

Snakey with wording and finds amusement when others are loose with theirs.

Is generally just proudly unfazed in most situations. He knows he’s powerful and thinks he’s invincible, in a perhaps rather childlike way.

Acts ominous, vague and mysterious but do keep in mind he is a 15 year old and a idiot

Very interested in Fugo because of the sheer audacity.

( sort of like "I like this one!"/"I would love to study you.")

When Giorno first met Fugo he was like “May I have your name? :)” and Fugo was like “no you cant have my fucking name you fucking dipshit” and Giorno was so taken aback by the sheer audacity that he just didn’t do anything about it and got attached to him

* and post part he keeps pestering Fugo like “can I have it now” “can I have your name now”

He likes messing with people. Especially Mista because he knows he can get away with it.

Doesn’t need blood but refuses to go without consuming (or complaining about not getting to) because he’s a little bitch.

Can theoretically fuck up technology by his mere presence if he’s not careful enough.

Holds people to their promises, even if they didn’t know they made one.

Good at charming people. Good at tricking people. Likes doing both.

shut up shut up shut up please shut the fuck up

Overdramatic and makes it everyone else’s problem. Occasionally sparkles, not because he’s a vampire, but because he’s a silly dramatic loser. Shimmers in the moonlight but it’s not clear if that’s possibly involuntary.

gender