#that’s really on the way companies and such use her for their own marketing | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

authorhjk1 · 4 months ago

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dont you think Haewon deserves to get absolutely destroyed in her childhood room while her parents are downstairs

Marking

(Oh Haewon X Male Reader)

"I don't really get, why you had to come too. It's not like you're my boyfriend."

"I'm not. Lucky me."

You feel Haewon's elbow in your ribs.

"Hey, I'm driving!"

"So what?"

You send her an angry glare, before looking back ahead, focusing on the traffic.

The two of you are on your way to Haewon's parents. They are celebrating their anniversary today. A special one. 25 years. And the both of you are invited. Haewon for obvious reasons and you because you know her father. You only found out after your shenanigans at her place after your breakup. You saw a picture of him on her fridge while you left. And it turns out, he is your boss.

Well, not exactly. He is the head of the marketing team at the company you're working at. You are in a different department. He still has the higher position though. The two of you had to work together occasionally and, despite the age difference, you got along very well. That was, until you started to fuck his daughter's brains out every chance you got.

"We are here."

The two of you get out of the car. While Haewon walks towards the door, you get her stuff and trail after her. She didn't have time to change into her dress yet.

"Mom, dad!"

Haewon greets them and you shake the pair's hands afterwards. Luckily, her father knows that your ex girlfriend Sullyoon is his daughter's best friend. So it's not that weird that the two of you know each other. But it might have been a little suspicious for the two of you to arrive in the same car.

"Please come in. We have prepared lunch already."

"Thank you."

You smile at them, but you can't help but feel guilty. You doubt that they know what you have been doing to their beloved daughter every single day for the past couple of weeks.

"Haewon, go upstairs and get changed. After we are finished eating, we are driving to the party."

"Please, Mr. Oh. Let me drive. The two of you should just relax today."

"Thank you so much, dear."

Haewon's mom accepts your offer with a big smile.

"Too bad that Sullyoon found you, before our daughter did."

"Mom!"

Haewon's cheeks turn red in embarrassment as her mom teases her.

"She is coming too today, why is she not here?"

You glance at Haewon upon hearing her dad's question. Seems like she hasn't told them yet. Maybe to have an excuse for the two of you to keeps seeing each other.

"Well, she... She is very busy with work these days. She told me to pick Haewon up and drive her here. She will catch up with us at the party."

Not your finest moment, but you don't want to call Haewon a liar in front of her parents.

Come upstairs

You stare at the message on your phone. What the hell, Haewon? You know what she wants from you. But this is her parents house. Her father is sitting two meters away from you. How could you...

If you come upstairs now, I'll admit it.

You scoff in disbelief. This has been going on for weeks and now, Haewon wants to admit that she is a whore? A little late in your opinion. But then again, hearing it from her own mouth, while she cums on your cock...

The picture in your head makes you get off the couch.

"Haewon texted me. She needs help with her dress."

You explain yourself without even thinking about your words. It's surprising to see how fast your blood can rush from your brain to your cock, just by thinking of Haewon's desperate moans and whines.

"Sure. Go ahead"

You're glad her father doesn't seem to catch on as you climb the stairs, taking two steps at a time.

You barge into Haewon's childhood room. She stands in the middle. Naked.

"Took you longer than I expected."

You slowly tear your eyes off her naked frame and scan the room. A bed, a desk, a wardrobe. Nothing special. Her walls are decorated with her paintings though. She was definitely not very old, when she made them. They look like ones from six year olds. But still not bad. Your eyes land on the wax crayons, which are lined up by color, lying on her desk. But the nude woman in front of you quickly brings back your attention on her.

Haewon steps forward, her arms wrapping around your neck.

"Fuck me and I confess."

You roll your eyes.

"I'm not falling for that again."

"It's not a joke this time."

Haewon gives you grin.

"Admit it first. Then I fuck you."

This is how your 'relationship' started out anyways. Haewon broke you and Sullyoon up and just wouldn't admit that she did it, because she wanted you. Because she is a slut.

"No. Wrong order."

Haewon gives you another teasing grin.

"Fine."

You give in, knowing that, except for fucking it out of her, there is not much you can do about it anyway.

The two of you quickly engage in a heated kiss, warming each other up. Not that Haewon needs much of that. You can tell by how her core rubs against your thigh.

"If you want me to fuck you good, you better start sucking."

You whisper into her mouth, while slightly pulling away.

"You are not too big of a whore yet to take all of it without lube."

Haewon bites your lip, the pain makes you flinch.

"You just want to see me choke on it again."

Without a word, you grab her shoulders and push her down.

"Not that I'm complaining."

A devilish grin appears on her otherwise innocent face.

Haewon starts out slow by just putting the tip into her mouth. She lets her tongue swirl around it, while both her hands wrap around your cock.

Her blowjob is everything but slow and sensual though, once she gets into it. Like a hungry animal, Haewon starts to engulf your cock. You're reminded of this morning. That's how your day started.

Her hands quickly stroke you, while her head bobs up and down. Her eyes look up at you, almost mocking your inability to keep standing still. You can't help it. You have to hold onto something, or you'll fall. The only thing in sight, as usual, is Haewon's head.

You place one of your hands on top of it. Haewon immediately stops. Her eyes tell you to use her. Her eyes tell you that she is a whore. But her mouth still doesn't. To be fair, it's full with cock right now. But you make a silent promise to yourself. Within the next twenty minutes, Haewon will be calling herself a whore, while she begs for more.

You slowly pull her back onto your cock. Only halfway though. It doesn't make her choke, but you can already hear her breathing through her nose. You loosen your grip, Haewon's lips glide along your length, until they reach your tip. A moment to let her take one last breath.

A second later, Haewon chokes hard. Your cock is blocking her airflow. It's entirety is stuffed down her throat. Her nose is pressed against your abdomen. You hold her in place.

One second

Two seconds

Three seconds

Four seconds

Five seconds

Haewon's eyes give you a silent challenge. Every fiber of her being tells you that she is a whore. Why can't her mouth do the same?

Five seconds turn into ten seconds.

Spit starts to leak out of the corners of her mouth.

Ten seconds turn into fifteen seconds.

Haewon's eyes become wider as she realizes that you don't intend to let go anytime soon.

Fifteen seconds turn into twenty seconds.

Her nostrils flare as Haewon's breathing becomes heavier, faster.

Twenty seconds turn into twenty five seconds.

Her drool now falls off her chin in the form of long strings.

Just as you reach thirty seconds, you let go.

Haewon falls off your cock. Her mouth still hanging open as she backs away. She tries to catch her breath, her naked chest heaving heavily.

"I will wait for your confession, once you're done with surviving."

You give her smug grin.

Haewon doesn't have the energy to reply. The lack of oxygen is still visible.

"Or are you in for round two?"

This time, Haewon shakes her head.

"But you're not gonna confess what a whore you are?"

She shakes her head again.

You groan.

"Fine. But I will not be leaving this room, until your whole body screams whore."

You take a step closer towards her desk.

"And I know just the right way to start."

After grabbing the red wax crayon, you turn back around. Haewon's eyes are slowly wandering towards your hand.

"I hope this washes off easily. For your sake."

Haewon barely has time to open her mouth, before you're already towering over her. Taking a fistful of her short hair, you make her turn her head.

The young woman feels the cold crayon on her cheek. You stain her gorgeous face. Her skin senses your handwriting. The swing of the letter S. A straight line down, one to the right. An L. Another swing U. Two more lines form a T.

You let go of Haewon's hair, letting her head return to its original place. You lean back, taking in your work.

She glares at you. Her cheek is covered with red wax. The word 'slut' seems to glow on her otherwise flawless skin.

"Well, slut..."

The word slowly drips off your tongue with such a degrading undertone.

"Let's fuck that confession out of you."

You lift Haewon off the floor and place her on her windowsill. She shivers as the cold glass makes contact with her back.

"So much space for me to write on."

You whisper as your free hand wanders all over her front.

"You wouldn't dare."

You raise an eyebrow.

"I already did, slut."

You step closer, parting her legs in the process. Your faces only inches away, the tip of your cock now resting on her wet pussy lips.

"And I will cover your entire body."

You immediately start to fulfill that promise. Haewon weakly tries to push your hand away, but you hold her wrists with one hand. You place the tip of the wax crayon right between her tits and her collarbone. You slowly read the words as you write them on her skin.

"Sex toy."

Haewon closes her eyes. She shivers again. You are sure it's not because of the glass.

"Do you want another one?"

She shakes her head and shoots you an evil glare. Her lips are pressed together, not wanting to give you the satisfaction of begging you to stop.

"Suit yourself."

This time, you place the crayon right above her pussy. Her smoothly shaven skin becomes your canvas. You don't read the word out loud, this time.

It takes her moment, since Haewon has to read it upside down.

"Owned"

Just as she understands its meaning, you're already past her lips.

"Ngh! Please!"

A loud whine escapes her mouth as she feels your tip inside of her. Your cock starts to stretch her out as you slowly push forward.

"From now on, whenever you deny being a whore, I'll ruin your body further."

Just as you say that, you are just as deep as Haewon can take it. She starts to take heavy breaths again. Her eyes are glued to the part of your cock that's still not inside her.

"Are you a whore?"

You sigh, knowing full well that she won't agree yet. Haewon shakes her head.

You place the crayon on her left shoulder.

"Bitch"

You focus on fucking her now. Being inside of Haewon doesn't allow you to properly focus on humiliating her. You need to blow off some steam first. And what is better for that than Haewon's snug hole?

You start to screw Haewon into the window behind her. Her back is pressed flat against it. Her legs are spread wide, dangling off the windowsill. One of your hands holds onto her waist while the other is loosely placed on her thigh, still holding the crayon.

Haewon's moans fill the room she has grown up in. All those memories of her childhood are now stained by this experience. They are worthless. All that matters now, is that she is a whore. Slowly, Haewon's own mind comes to that conclusion. So slow, she almost doesn't realize it.

Your pounding makes her slowly lose her mind. Her moans increase in volume. Her whines reach a higher pitch.

"Again, are you a whore?"

This time, you catch her hesitate. But then, Haewon shakes her head again.

Her eyes are barely able to follow the crayon as you slow down your thrusts only a little. Just enough, so you can properly write. Her skin just above her navel is now showing off a marking as well.

"Cocksleeve"

Haewon doesn't have time to read the second half as you pick up the pace again.

"Oh, god!"

Her head leans against the glass behind her. Her back arches, her chest gets pushed towards you. Instead of leaning in and sucking on her tits, you reach forward with your free hand.

"Aaah!"

Haewon let's out a loud cry as you pinch her nipple. And the other one. Another scream.

"S-Stop. It hurts."

She whines, but you both know that that's not her safeword.

"Tell me, if you want me to be gentle. Are you a whore?"

"No!"

She gives you a determined glare. An angry pout.

Once again her crayon finds her skin.

This time, you write on both her tits.

"Free"

"Use"

Haewon looks down, barely manages to read it, and lets out another moan.

"So you do like it rough? Thought so."

You let the wax crayon fall onto the windowsill. Hooking your arms under her legs, you pull her towards you.

"Oh, fuck!"

Her cry can be heard throughout the whole house. You're sure of it. You're buried balls deep inside her cunt. Your thrusts are harder now. You go as fast as possible, not wanting to give her a split second to breath. Her eyes, once locked on yours, are now rolling to the back of her head. Haewon's mouth hangs open in a silent moan.

"Are you a whore?"

This time, Haewon doesn't even respond. Maybe she didn't hear you. Who cares?

You let one leg fall down to reach for the crayon. Another two words are added to the others.

"Sex object"

Between her collarbone and her throat.

Haewon feels you, marking her again. But an overwhelming heat rushes through her body in an alarming pace. It starts out inside her pussy. Right around your cock. It travels through her core. Through her abdomen and her organs. Past her tits. Through her throat. Until it finally reaches her brain. And her mouth.

"Oh holy fuck!"

Haewon cums hard. You start to produce squishing sounds as you keep stuffing Haewon's wet pussy with your cock. Her hands search for your body, trying to push you away. Her legs quiver and shake, before they wrap around you, trapping you in place.

"N-No more."

She weakly sighs, once she has started to calm down.

"I haven't heard the magic word from you yet.

"Haewon, honey! Are you alright? The clock is ticking!"

Misses Oh's voice makes you both look at the door. Luckily, it sounded like it was coming from downstairs.

"In a minute."

Haewon's voice cracks in the middle of her sentence.

"Maybe we should open that door and let them hear you."

"Whore!"

You're surprised at how quickly Haewon blurts out that word.

"I'm a whore! I admit it."

She looks down, very aware that your still inside of her.

"I know. "

You lean forward and kiss her forehead.

"Was it that hard?"

Haewon timidly shakes her head.

Her eyes widen when you raise the crayon again.

"W-Wait what are you doing?"

"Hold still."

"But-"

"I feel like your confession isn't coming from a genuine place, you know? Plus, I need to mark the spot, where I want to cum."

Haewon gulps, but stays silent and doesn't move.

You start on her right cheek. Three words. You keep going, even when you reach her nose. Once you are on the other side of her face, you finish the line. The last letter is placed right next to the first word you wrote on her. The new words cover her whole face. From right to left.

"Cum hungry slut"

You don't tell her what you wrote.

"Knees."

Haewon follows your order and you're back to where you started. It doesn't take long for her to bring you to the edge from there. A nice, quick blowjob. Her hands massaging your cock. Her tongue lapping her own juices off of you.

"Damn, Haewon."

You grunt, which makes her look up at you with those big eyes.

She points your cock at her own face, strokes you two more times and then makes you orgasm. You explode right above her face, covering it with your cum. Her nose, her cheeks, her lips. All of it is ruined by your seed. And the rest of her body is marked with red wax.

"Write it down."

You nod towards her desk.

Haewon understands. She doesn't even get off the ground. She crawls the short distance, reaches up and grabs a piece of paper and the black crayon. You enjoy the view of her ass, before she turns back around. She writes one word.

"WHORE"

When she looks up again, you're already holding your phone in your hand, the camera ready.

Haewon holds up her self made sign.

"A little lower."

You make sure that every single mark you left on her body is clearly visible. Your cum is still staining her face as well.

"What a whore you are."

You chuckle as you snap a couple of pictures.

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

Hi everybody!

Hope you enjoyed this one. This chapter is gonna be the last of of this small series. So there won't be any follow up fics.

Stay healthy!

#ask #anon #kpop #kpop smut #kpop girls #kpop gg #male reader #haewon nmixx #nmixx smut #nmixx #haewon #oh haewon

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orchidyoonkook · 1 year ago

Text

The Devil Wears Valentino | MYG

Title: The Devil Wears Valentino

Pairing: Devil!Min Yoongi x (F)!Reader

Rating//Genre: (M) | One Shot, Spooky AU, Supernatural Creatures AU, Not Quite Friends to Lovers, Age Gap, Technically Slice of Life, Angst, Smut and Fluff

Summary: Having known him for years—from a small mistake on your behalf, and a favour on his—you’re one of the only people he seems to be able to put up with for company. Certainly the only one he’s half-way decent with. But what’s more surprising to you is that despite his name, reputation, and the fact he’s always joked he’d have killed anyone else by this point, is that he’s never once tried to cause you harm.

Actually, he’s almost…protective of you. In his own weird way.

And obnoxiously flirty.

Warnings: language, violence, tae is a menance, drinking and alcohol, Min Yoongi as the Devil -> Lucifer Morningstar? we dont know him, mentions of murder, mentions of torture, mentions of rape -> Sal's an ass and he deserved what he got, somewhat graphic gore/horror (yoon tries her best but she's not very good at spooky), slight POV switches, one (1) mention of reader having hair, fluffy in parts,

Explicit warnings under the cut.

Word Count: 10,488

Release Date: October 31, 2023, 12:00PM

A/N 1: Ahhhh! Welcome to my very first halloween special!!! I wanted to do something for my favourite holiday this year, and I've had this title written down without a plot for maybe just over a year? So I'm really excited to finally use it!!

A/N 1.5: Thank you to my absolute darling @katykatmeow for beta'ing this for me so late in the night. I adore you so much

A/N 2: The whiskey glass and whiskey are hand drawn vectors because I'm a glutton for punishment. Why do I keep doing this to myself.

Explicit Warnings: ahaha uhhh, unprotected sex (dont be stupid) kissing, breast play, fingering, oral (f rec), groping, pet names (sickening amount), dirty talk, praise, slight degredation, hair pulling (m rec), spitting, handjob, body worship, cowgirl, from the back, missionary, a lil bit of crying, spanking, size kink, voice kink, hand kink (look, he's a lot okay, don't blame reader), sl*t/wh*re mentions, multiple orgasms, creampie, I think thats it? Yoon went a little bananas with this one.....

Slow jazz floats through the air of the club, wading around the modestly-sized venue. You’d say it was almost cozy, but with the expensive feel of the place, cozy just didn’t seem like the right word.

Intimate. That would be a better choice.

From behind the bar where you stand, to the velvet couches in the back covered by decently dressed lesser demons, piano plays alongside gentle drums. Dark navy cushions soak in their conversation of effective torture methods, discussed like stock market trends, they dissect the best way to decapitate someone so you can instill the most pain and suffering.

The answer is always with a dull knife and from the back, blindly. Never knowing when the next cut will be is half the agony.

You try not to pay attention to that though, because the only thing you need to know is that they drink Vodka Tonics and lesser demon number four’s glass is looking to be on the emptier side.

He’ll be back for another soon.

While you wait for his arrival, the rhythmic notes continue on, gliding along shiny, black floor tiles. They pass the burgundy leather booths that face the stage, full of vampires trying to relive long lost youth in the old melodies played. They turn to stone just a little bit more with every passing minute they’re forced to live, keeping no company besides the pleasant burn down their throats and ever present melancholy.

Banshees listen in from the mezzanine, only ever soft spoken when they’re here. Covered by velvet draped ceilings that dampen sounds to the outside world, the women of three distinct ages sit at tall tables. The young in heels and short dresses, proudly showing off their youth, while the elders choose more elegant wares, content as they can be in their skin, considering their blood soaked pasts.

Banshees tend to discuss privately amongst themselves, ordering walk up service so as to never mingle with the men on the floor. You can’t blame them, especially knowing how they all got here in the first place, but they’re polite when they enter, greeting you kindly despite what you are to them. The trays you bring up for them never waver from their drink of choice, The Irish Sour.

And then there are the Djinn, who come in mostly just to pass the time. Sitting by themselves at the bar, or in no more than groups of two at a far table, they never interact with anyone other than the bartender or themselves. Djinn are increasingly solitary creatures of the night, with the fear of their kind lessening in mortals, you’re starting to see less and less of them as the days pass, and you’re almost sad to see them go.

Djinn are your favourites. They come in, order, keep to themselves, and then leave. It’s a nice change from the usual light conversation you’re forced to keep with patrons. Plus their orders are always easiest, as they only drink virgin. It’s a bit of a blow to the bar aspect of the establishment, but they come for the atmosphere, grateful to have a place they can exist with like minded folk—even if they don’t interact. There’s a comfort in familiarity, you guess.

Occasionally some other creatures of the night mix into the masses; fae, chimera, leprechauns, goblins, et cetera. All dressed in their nicest clothes to accommodate your work's dress code, all here for peace from their day jobs, to drown their sorrows, or somewhere in between.

Some come for an hour, others come for the night, but it’s mostly just your regulars who tend to remain, as do their drink orders. It’s a relatively easy job, and you don’t mind the company.

Most of the time.

You’ve just finished serving the lesser demon from earlier when your coworker bugs you for the hundredth time tonight.

“I don’t get why you're so hellbent on this, Y/N. If you’re closing, he’s coming. Because he always comes when you're closing. It’s simple math.”

“No he doesn't,” you dismiss Taehyung, a cocky but rather beautiful incubi, annoyedly. Taehyung is the type that knows he’s pretty and uses it to his every advantage, including being able to say whatever he wants and get away with it. And it would piss you off except it works on you too.

Fucking incubi demons…

You were one of only two mortal bartenders, the other being Lia, a cute blond who only works here for the tips. The boss likes to keep a couple humans on staff in case any wanderers stupid enough to come inside a den of nocturnal, evil creatures didn’t catch the vibe and immediately fuck off.

You’d be surprised at how shitty some people's self preservation instincts are.

You asked your boss once—a very large, very well built, very well connected vampire—why he bothered having a layer of protection for them. His only response was: “Business is business.”

Plus he knows he can’t have a trail of bodies that lead directly to his club's front steps, so he keeps a couple of mortals around just in case. This way, with you two here, there was always someone who knew all the drinks the humans could have, and someone to keep all the greedy eyes around the venue in check, as you have banning and kicking out privileges.

Because where you saw Kin, your regulars saw food, a hunt, or a job. They saw something to be taken advantage of or killed. They saw poor, weak, pathetic little mortals that should’ve been eradicated centuries ago had their ancestors been smarter.

They are the superior beings in their eyes, your race is just a bug to be squashed under their proverbial boot.

It makes you worry what they think of you. Is the only thing that stops them from devouring you whole the fact that you make their drinks just the way they like it, that you have a use in serving them? Or do they respect you enough now that you understand how to act around them and know what they’re like? What they are.

You worry, but you’ll never know the truth because you aren’t stupid enough to ask and show weakness. They can smell that shit from a mile away, and all it does is paint a 30 foot wide target on your back.

“Yes he does. I bet you tonight's tips he’ll be here in the next two hours,” Taehyung presses.

And ooohh, a night’s worth of tips, bragging rights, and winning a bet against Tae all sound way too good damn to pass up.

“You’re delusional,” you say, holding out a hand. Tae grabs and shakes, as you agree to his terms. “And you’re on, don’t come crying when you lose.”

There’s no way he’ll show up. It’s Friday night, the night of sin, he’s going to be up to his eyeballs with work…stuff.

“Easiest money I’ve ever made,” Taehyung grins, and with the confidence in which he does, you begin to second guess your own.

It’s not that you did or didn’t want him to show up, it’s just that your relationship with him is…complicated at best. You never really knew how to navigate a conversation with him outside of surface level banter and jokes, but it’s always been like that with you two.

Having known him for years—from a small mistake on your behalf, and a favour on his—you’re one of the only people he seems to be able to put up with for company. Certainly the only one he’s half-way decent with. But what’s more surprising to you is that despite his name, reputation, and the fact he’s always joked he’d have killed anyone else by this point, is that he’s never once tried to cause you harm.

Actually, he’s almost…protective of you. In his own weird way.

And obnoxiously flirty.

But you could never. Not with who and what you are, and who and what he is.

Regardless of how you fight the heat down in your cheeks every time you see him, and how your heart flutters against your will in multiple places in your body at even the thought of being near him.

Regardless of the fact that you shut him down every time he suggests anything more than an over the bar conversation, and the way your panties seem to always dampen in his presenc–fuck.

It’s happening again. Stop thinking about it, stop, stop st–wait. You turn, seeing the violet ichor in Tae’s eyes and you know the bitch is using his power on you. You flip the asshole off and he chuckles.

He’s been trying to get you to change your mind ever since the first time he saw you deny yourself.

“You know I can tell when you’re hot and bothered right? Incubus, remember? It’s literally part of who I am.”

To which you think again, fucking incubi…

Your most infamous regular is, to quote your favourite tv show, ‘the bane of your existence and the object of all your desires,’ and you will never, ever entertain his annoying, disgustingly hot ass more than you already do. Not after everything you went through the first—and last—time with a creature of the night.

You learned your lesson.

So instead, you try to think of him more like an old friend. The kind that’s actually really old already, but looks amazing for his age. The kind that makes shivers run up your spine when he talks to you in the deepest, most gravel turning voice you’ve ever heard, that you also ignore out of pure self preservation. He’s the kind that you shove out of your thoughts at night when your alone and in desperate need of relie—Fucking Taehyung!

You whip your head around to search for the violet eyed incubus, only to see him across the bar helping some stocky vampire. And you’re about a hair's breadth away from ripping him a new one in front of said vampire when the idle hum of chatter in the bar ceases and the band’s calming music falters into missed notes and a cymbal crash that's too hard; awkward, painful silence remaining.

From behind you, you can hear the front door close, followed by light footsteps that grow louder and louder. Only once the seat directly behind you creaks with the sound of being occupied, does the chatter and music resume.

Which can only mean one fucking thing.

You just lost all your tips for the night.

Tae’s shit eating grin as he looks over your shoulder confirms it.

Fuck.

“Excuse me,” the bottom of the ocean floor speaks and you make a conscious effort not to react.

“Ardbeg Single Malt, neat?” You throw over your shoulder, not bothering to look just yet.

You know precisely where he sits. And he knows you know.

“Sounds perfect,” he responds, and you focus on ‘looking for the bottle.’

You know exactly where it is.

No one else will touch it.

Taehyung busies himself with bringing an order of Bloody Mary’s down to a booth on the floor, knowing he’ll be burned alive if he so much as looks at a whiskey glass.

No one serves him but you.

But more importantly, nobody disrespects you in front of him. A lesson your ex–see: dead–coworker, Sal, learned the hard way. His burn mark is still seared onto the floor behind you.

You’d almost felt bad that day, but he was a lust demon who touched you without your permission, hit on you every five minutes, and when you said no, treated you like shit.

You’d been close to dousing him with vodka and lighting him up yourself, but the man tapping his fingers on the bar behind you beat you to it 15 seconds after sitting down one night last year.

After shoving Sal off you for the fourth time that night, he was pissed. Whispering obscenities to himself loud enough so you would hear,

“Fucking stupid mortal bitch, maybe next time I’ll just drag you into an alley do whatever the fuck I want. Nobody here’s going to stop me. And maybe then you’ll learn to shut up with this dick in your cunt and my fingers down your throat, huh? Leave you to rot with the garbage where you belong after you’re all used up.”

He didn’t take another breath.

A single burst of blistering flame had Sal reduced to ashes in seconds. You’d felt the heat from it, but your skin remained burn free, safe from its dangerous blaze. The lust demon from then on only existed as a smudge on the ground to be walked over.

“Thanks,” You’d said.

“It’s where he belongs,” he responded.

Grateful for his kindness, you entertained him more than usual that night. Engaged in an actual conversation, about your birthday of all things. You had no idea why he wanted to know, but you considered the information his reward for helping you, and he seemed pleased with it.

But he was more than pleased.

After years, you’d revealed something to him. Something personal.

He took it as a sign that he might be able to get you to change your mind one day, if he did everything just right. Having played the long game before, this was no different. The only thing different this time, was you.

Maybe it was the way you walked with such confidence, or the way you never cowered in fear around him. Not the day you met nor any day after. Or maybe you were sent by his father just to mess with his head. He didn’t care. All he knew was what he wanted, and that he was more than willing to wait as long as was needed to get it.

A nursery rhyme from your childhood plays in your head every time you see him. It never wavers, just like the eyes you can feel on the back of your neck, watching your experienced hands make his drink.

Quietly, you recite it to yourself while you grab the bottle;

‘One for sorrow,

Two for joy,

Three for a girl,

Four for a boy,

Five for silver,

Six for gold,

Seven for a secret never to be told.’

You pour, steady hand making it last as long as you possibly can to gain a few more seconds to compose yourself.

‘Eight for a wish,

Nine for a kiss,

Ten a surprise you should be careful not to miss,

Eleven for health,

Twelve for wealth,’

You put the bottle down and cork it before returning it to its place on the shelf. Taking a deep breath, you turn to finally face him, and change the wording of the last line to fit your situation better.

“One Ardbeg Single Malt neat, for the Devil himself.”

He snickers, “I always liked that nursery rhyme. It’s cute. Like you, Angel.”

You roll your eyes. To anyone else that would sound like a compliment. But coming from the Devil it’s more of an insult. One you know is meant in a playful way after all these years, crass in his humour, just like you. And you know he can take a little heat back.

“Wow, that’s a classic,” you grab a glass to polish, keeping your hands busy so they don’t do something stupid while you’re distracted. “Got one of those for you too, ‘Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?’”

He chokes on a laugh before straightening on the barstool and putting on a face. “I don’t think that joke’s appropriate.”

“Oh come on Yoongi, you come at me with ‘It’s cute, like you, Angel’ and I can’t poke back?” You ask, knowing full well his uncomfortable look is all an act. “I thought you didn’t have any feelings besides rage, lust and currently; insufferable flirting.”

You know the entire club listens in to your conversation.

No one calls the Devil by his first name.

Nobody speaks to the Devil unless spoken to.

And no one makes jokes at the Devil’s expense and lives.

No one except you.

What a funny little exception you are.

Yoongi drops the act, a sly smirk that sends bubbles to your brain, replacing it. “So you admit my flirting isn’t always bad. Must be doing something right then.”

You force yourself not to slam a palm into your forehead. Of course that’s what he got out of your sentence.

You aren’t going to make his ego any bigger than it already is.

“It isn’t working,”—fuck, yes it is—“if that’s what you’re asking. Can’t say I’m surprised though, I hear you’ve been out of the game for a couple millenia,” he quirks a brow at that.

Ooo, that means you’re nearing thin ice, haven't been there in a while…Let’s see if you can slide around a bit more without falling in.

“I mean, I’m sure you’ll get there eventually. If you stay consistent at your current rate of progress you could hit me up in,” you suck air in through your teeth and look at the ceiling, before checking a watch you don’t wear, pretending to think, “a thousand years?” You tease, a lilt in your tone. Because if Yoongi was going to make your shift this fucking difficult just by breathing near you, then you sure as Hell can do the same for his night.

He chuckles like the coals of a fire and you cross your legs behind the bar. Motherfucker…

“Someones got a mouth on them tonight,” he says, looking directly into your eyes as he takes his first sip, savouring the taste before swallowing. His tongue dips to his bottom lip for any remnants and you gulp, vision dropping for a millisecond—oh for the love of—and you finally notice what he’s wearing.

Much to your dismay and dwindling willpower, he looks fucking good. With only a white scarf to accent, the all black Valentino suit fits in perfectly with the bar’s dress code, as well as the long slicked back hair he’s only recently started to grow out. Just seeing it like this makes you want to run your hands through and mess it up.

You’ve always had a thing for men with long hair, ever since you were young.

Jack Sparrow, Madmartigan, even The Winter Soldier. And come to think of it, none of them were exactly the good guys in their respective universes either…

Nope! No. You can’t. You can’t.

You can’t for so many reasons, so many good and bad and everything in between reasons. You’re nothing more than a flimsy human while he’s the Great Immortal Evil. The person people whisper the name of for fear of incurring his wrath.

The King of Hell.

He’s the person that walks into a room and everyone balks under his gaze, terrified of what he may do. He’s killed millions with no mercy. Doesn’t so much as think twice to horrifically burn someone where they stand to ash in hellfire for breathing the wrong way near him. He lavishes in the screams of sinners, punished in their own blood and bones, beaten into a shell of who they were in the nine circles of Hell. Left gaping, broken and sobbing in agony for their suffering to end.

Yoongi is walking nightmares and visceral terror. He is merciless violence and brutality abandon.

Yoongi is living, breathing, unyielding death wrapped up in deceivingly beautiful packaging.

He is the epitome of someone you should not like, should not go near, and definitely should not want in the way the thrumming in your bones is telling you, you want him.

You have to stay away from him.

But that doesn’t mean you can’t flirt back a little.

As salaciously as you can muster, you whisper low, “But it’s nothing you can’t handle,” and you swear you see a hint of surprise in Yoongi’s eyes, followed by something so much deeper that you have to look away under the guise of checking for any newcomers.

It’s a dangerous game you’re playing. One you need to move the pieces of very, very carefully.

There’s a handful of people waiting to be served, but none disturb Yoongi’s service. So you’re forced and relieved to cut the interaction short. For both the waiting patrons, and your sanity.

“Enjoy the whiskey, Yoongi.”

Yoongi doesn’t bother you for the rest of the night, instead he watches you help the other patrons and make drinks. No one dares sit within three seats of him on either side, so the booths and tables fill more than the bar does, forcing you to do more tray work than you like. And you think you can feel those eyes on the back of your neck travel elsewhere.

Soon after he takes his last sip, Yoongi leaves far too much cash on the table to cover a single drink, and you know Tae won’t include it in tonight's bet. He rather enjoys being alive.

The first time he did this you tried to give it back, insisting it was too much. But one threat to Tae’s life had you accepting the outrageous amount he left you every time. Despite how much he gets on your nerves, you rather enjoy Taehyung's company on your shifts. And you didn’t want to risk having a new coworker like Sal again.

Thank you, Yoongi. You silently think to yourself every time he does. His tips are one of the only reasons you’re able to take care of yourself so well.

You live in an apartment you should not be able to afford on a bartender's wage. Eat well, buy all the brand name products for the skin care routine you could only dream of having as a teenager, and you’re able to get yourself a little treat every once in a while.

All thanks to the one man the world claimed was the purest entity of evil there was.

And maybe he is.

But not to you.

The rest of your night, and closing go smoothly. The journey home passes by in a flash and soon you’re flopping into your bed, asleep before you hit the pillow.

You dream of Yoongi and Hellfire and things only your subconscious will let you. The thoughts that you force away every time you see him.

The burn of his hands on your skin and his lips on your neck. The warmth that spreads over your entire body at the mere mention of your name from his lips. His tongue in places you wouldn’t dare allow him to even think about in the waking world.

And you wake from an orgasm he wasn't in the waking world to give you.

It’s the last Saturday in October, which means it’s also your birthday.

You found it rather funny that the one person the Devil could stand to conversate with was born on his night. Maybe that’s coincidence or maybe that’s fate, either way you didn’t care, because you had it booked off work and you were going to a bar and dancing with your friends, dressed up in the sluttiest costumes you could find.

Your recent visit with your birthday's namesake inspired your costume this year. Wearing the shortest, blood red leather dress you could find, the slits up the sides ran almost to your hips, and a corseted waist that made you feel sexy and fierce. You’d paired it with some velvet horns, a tail, pitchfork, crimson lace stockings and your most recent edition; red bottomed strappy stilettos.

They’d been your birthday present to yourself, courtesy of Yoongi’s most recent tip. And needless to say, you felt hot as shit. No one could tear you down tonight.

All your friends met at your house before ridesharing down to a club. It’s loud, hazy, and filled with other Devil’s Night party goers as you arrive, smoke lingering in the air and you can feel the wave of dancing coming from further inside.

Someone buys you your first round within a minute of being let in, lemon drop filling your taste buds as you knock back the shot. Another is ordered immediately after the first, it runs smoother and tastes like chocolate as you make your way to the dance floor.

Aside from you, your friends are dressed up as a wild mix of characters. Rey is dressed as Daphne from Scooby Doo, Yaejin is Nezuko from Demon Slayer, Bryce is a gender bent Legolas from Lord of the Rings, Declan is Donatello from the Ninja Turtles, Cam is a ghost, and Trin is a character from a book you’ve never read. Something about dragons and magic and vermin—or was it venin? Whatever. But they were in all black and had used silver hair spray on the tips of their hair.

You let the alcohol make its way through your veins as you dance, loosening up. The DJ mixes songs together in a way that never has the crowd thinning out and you laugh as you move with your friends, swaying and rocking and grinding.

You needed this.

A night out just to let go, have fun, forget everything and hopefully get lucky by the end of it. It’s been a while since you’ve taken anyone to bed, and birthday sex sounds amazing the more the lemon drop, and what you finally learned was a tootsie roll shot, settle into your system.

You aren’t drunk by any means, but you are buzzed and having a blast. An orgasm sounds like the only thing that could possibly make this night any better. So you make your way around the dance floor, keeping one eye open for any potentials, but mostly just dancing with Rey and Cam. The others either grabbing another drink back at the bar or resting their legs in a booth.

“Babe,” Rey says, hands around your neck with Cam behind you, hands on your hips. You all sway to the beat of the admittedly sensual song playing.

“Yeah?” You ask, opening your eyes to meet hers and she leans in closer.

You can hear the smile on her lips, “Major tall, dark and handsome at 9 o'clock has been eyeing you for at least a half hour. I say you ditch me and Cam and go enthrall the man with your company for a little while. We’ll be fine on our own.”

Heating at her words you’re excited to see who’s gone and done half your job for you tonight when your eyes stop dead on target.

In a private booth in the VIP section, blending in far too well with the mortals around him, he wears a button down black satin top and dress pants. Thick silver links adorn his neck, complimenting the hoops in his lobes as well as the mouth watering rings on his fingers and you’re quite sure the bottoms of his black leather shoes match the red of your own.

Yoongi.

God he looks good. Unfairly so. And he carries that knowledge with him in his movement. His confidence never wavering like a mortal’s would.

Aside from two twisting black horns you’ve never seen before protruding from his deliciously tousled hair—hair you still want to pull on until he’s making sounds no ones ever heard come out of his mouth before, now moreso than ever—Yoongi is a darker version of yourself.

Except for him, it isn’t a costume, it’s real, real, real.

And he looks like sin incarnate.

Fitting.

Fuck, you’re so screwed. What were all those reasons it could never work again? The ones that explain why you shouldn’t take the Devil home and let him fuck you into next Sunday?

Suddenly, you can’t remember any of them. Not when Yoongi’s eyes never leave your red-clad form as he sips on what you know to be subpar whiskey. Your core melts into lava at the way he looks up and down, taking all of you in like you’re the one thing on this planet he needs to survive, and he’ll stop at nothing and spare absolutely no one until he gets you.

Rey gives Cam a look and their hands drop, allowing you to almost float over to where Yoongi lounges, maneuvering between bodies undulating to music that’s being deafened by the heartbeat in your ears.

When you reach him, you leave a somewhat respectable distance between you two, a step down from the dias the booth sits on.

Seeing him so much clearer now, you almost whine. How does he look even better up close? You want to sit on his lap, his face, have him bend you over the table then flip you over and feast like a man starved.

Fuck! No, you can’t. And you also can’t blame Tae for those thoughts either, he isn’t here.

They were all you.

Maybe his plan was working after all…

“What are you doing here?” You manage, grateful that you hadn’t had more to drink, but even more grateful for the ones you did. You needed a little liquid courage right now, even if it turned your thoughts into gutter sewage.

What he doesn’t know can’t hurt you…right? You just have to keep a lid on it. The one that’s loosening the more you look at him.

“It’s your birthday,” he says, producing a small black box wrapped with a bow. “I have a gift.”

He��he got you a present? He’s never done that before. But then again, before last year, he never knew when it was.

“You remem—I—you didn’t have to get me anything,” you stutter ungracefully, mouth trying to keep up with your racing thoughts. “I already got these shoes with the tip you left me last time,” you say, extending your leg to show off your newest purchase. The action reveals more leg than you meant it too and he catches the garter you have pulled around your thigh.

A fire ignites in his eyes at the sight, and you can feel their sparks everywhere he looks. Starting at your toes and moving all the way up back to your pretty irises.

“I’m flattered by the way,” he says. “In your costume choice.”

Huh? You look down and heat rises to your cheeks in a way it never has before. Oh fuck, oh fuck. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!

Here you stand, before the actual Devil—horns out in all their glory—dressed as him on his namesake night.

Of course this would happen to you, of course it would. This is what you get for fucking around. You found out. And you don’t know whether to be mortified, beg for forgiveness, or laugh yourself hoarse.

Going with none of the above, you choose to play it off instead, the way you always do when he manages to fluster you. “Consider me inspired by how recently I last saw you,” you say, taking the single step up the dias and twirling for him.

You show every angle of your costume you can, letting the booze in your system do its job of making you more confident than you currently are.

“What do you think?”

Yoongi stands, taking the two strides needed to be face to face with you, his voice is quiet and even, so only you can hear.

“May I touch?”

You don’t hesitate.

“Yes.”

Yoongi reaches behind you and pulls the fake tail from the back of your dress, then the pitchfork from your grasp and throws them into the booth, not caring where they land.

“Mmm,” he hums, placing his hands on your hips and spinning you once more. Lightning strikes every single nerve ending where his fingertips meet your body.

This time when he speaks, his voice is touched with the bit of demon that’s inside of him, dragging its claws along the floor of the 9th circle of Hell as he growls, “You’re perfect.”

Your heart does backflips and cartwheels and nose dives all at once. You’ve never heard him sound like that before, and if your panties weren’t wet before, they definitely are now.

Tugging gently, he guides you to the booth, sitting first before dragging you over his lap, knees meeting his hips. One of his hands rests on your thigh while the other reaches for something you can’t be bothered to figure out because oh my god, oh my god, you’re straddling him. Your straddling the Devil, dressed as the devil and probably already looking semi-fucked out while you do. This is probably a bad idea—no. This is definitely a bad idea. But you also have absolutely zero plans to stop literally anything that’s happening.

The gift box makes a reappearance, and he hands it over to you.

“Thank you,” you say automatically, trying and failing to ignore the fact that both of his hands now rest on your thighs. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck…..

Undoing the little black bow, you open it, revealing a delicately simple necklace. Its light weight chain holding a small pink stone pendant.

Beautiful.

“Pink Tourmaline,” Yoongi says.

“My birthstone,” you reply.

“Your birthstone.”

You stare at the little crystal, cut and polished to perfection. Not a single flaw.

“Yoongi I—I don’t know what to say. It’s incredible…Thank you,” you take it out of the box, profoundly grateful you decided not to wear a necklace tonight. “Could you help me put it on?”

“Of course, Angel,” he agrees. But this time when he says your nickname, it’s different. Like an unholy vow made only to you.

Makes you wonder what he promised.

Regretfully removing yourself from his lap, you turn around, only to be dragged back down by strong fingers.

Your ass is now flush against his dick, and it’s taking everything in you not to tease. Whether you’d be teasing him or yourself, you don't know, nor do you care. All you know is that friction can be a good thing if you want it to be. And you're starting to want it to be.

Lifting your hair for him, Yoongi fastens the necklace around your column, and to your complete and utter doom, places a gentle kiss at your nape. The simple contact makes you quietly moan, and you feel a twitch under you.

Ohhh, this is bad, this is so bad. But you can’t bring yourself to stop him. Not when his hands roam up and down your back, your sides, your hips. Exploring, feeling, learning. You dissolve into the touch, welcoming every whisper of pleasure they bring.

What is he doing to you?

“Angel,” Yoongi purrs in your ear.

“Mmm?”

“Would you like to dance?”

Fuck would you ever, but wait—

“Are you asking me if I’d like to Dance with the Devil?” you muse.

Yoongi chuckles lowly, understanding the meaning behind your ask.

“Is that something you’d be interested in?”

“Yes.”

You feel more than hear the dark rumble coming from his chest before he gently taps on your thigh. And you get up quickly.

“That’s a good girl,” he says, and fuck could you ever get used to him saying that to you.

Fingers laced in his, he lets you guide him to the dance floor.

Both of you ignore what the DJ plays, instead moving to the rhythm you feel like. Slow, sensual, a hand on his neck while you grind into him. Fast and heated, bodies touching any and every place you can get contact. You’re putting on quite the show for anyone brave enough to watch. And you know at least a handful of the eyes you feel on you are your friends’.

They don’t know about Yoongi.

They don’t know about the nature of the clientele at your job either, like every other human. They don’t know you're dancing with the most dangerous and volatile man in the room. And it’s better that way, because if they did, your ass would’ve been hauled out of the club and in a rideshare the second anyone saw him.

You’ve never been more thankful for the figurative wall between worlds. And the fact that you stand on both sides.

You brush up against his hardening dick and fuck, that’s it.

You’ve decided.

To hell with your reasons. To hell with the constant flirting and overuse of will power.

To hell with letting your anxieties and your moral compass and your conscience get in the way of the one thing you’ve been denying yourself for years.

You spin in Yoongi’s hold, looking straight into the darkened eyes of the most forbidden man you could ever want for yourself, only to see pure desire staring right back. It’s all you need before you’re crashing your lips to his, taking anything and everything you can get before one of you comes to your senses and pulls back.

But his grip on you tightens like a vice, pulling you closer, bodies flush amidst the dancing crowd. He’s magnetic in his want, lifting a hand to the back of your neck and tracing the seam of your lips with his tongue.

You let him in without hesitation and he nearly swallows you whole with how he invades your mouth, claiming it for himself. It makes you moan and he lets up, if only to let you breathe for a moment, and you take this reprieve to whisper in his ear, finally giving in to what you crave more than anything.

“Let’s go to yours.”

“We should go to yours, Angel, mine’s a bit harder to get to.”

Because his is on another plane of existence. Not exactly a taxi ride away. At least not one you can get at the curb of the club.

“Riiight.” A small dose of water washes over the fire in your core, and it’s like he can sense it because immediately, he’s pulling you back in. Nothing but teeth and lips and tongue, animalistic in the passion you’re displaying for everyone to see, the flames increasing tenfold.

Fuck, you don’t want to wait.

And apparently neither does Yoongi.

“Do you trust me?” He asks.

“Yes, but what does tha–”

“Close your eyes for me, Love.”

Any and all arguments fade on your tongue at the new pet name. So much warmer than Angel, so much more affectionate.

So you close your eyes for him, no questions asked. Because you trust him. You trust the Devil.

You trust Yoongi.

“That's a good girl.”

One hand goes to the back of your neck, the other your lower back as he kisses you gently. So gently you think it means something more, but the sounds of the club are fading away, and he’s leaning you down like he’s going to dip you before your back meets something soft.

Are you closer to a booth than you thought? Is he really going to take you here in front of all those people?

But when you open your eyes and your bedroom at your apartment fills your vision, you stiffen immediately.

What?

“I—but we were just—and now we’re he—and you—,” you stutter, amazed and unable to get the thoughts out fast enough before another takes its place. You manage a, “How?” and he catches on.

Not halting his actions, “Consider it a job perk,” he explains, nipping at your neck. You let out a groan as he continues his way down your column towards your chest and you relax into his touch.

“Teleportation, in simple terms, but it’s a bit more complicated than that.”

Despite his mouth on your skin, you somehow find the clearness of mind to ask, “Did anyone see?” Thinking about your friends and the potential hundreds of onlookers.

Yoongi’s hands rest at top of the zipper that goes the entire length of your dress, allowing for both easy putting on and quick removal. Fingers tug gently on the slider, eyes meeting yours for consent. You nod, and he answers your question as he drags it down your body torturously slow, savouring every moment he’s worked so hard to get.

He’s going to earn this privilege you’ve given him, if it's the last thing he does.

“No. And your friends won’t worry either.”

You don’t care how he knows that, not when he’s pulling off hot leather and devouring your curves with coal burning pupils. The cool air of your room causes goosebumps to rise everywhere, and your arms fly to your head, covering your eyes as you’re reminded you’d forgone a bra tonight.

There was no room for one without it squishing your tits too much and ruining the look. So with your dress gone, Yoongi has a front row seat to your nearly nude form, a blood red lace thong the only thing keeping you semi-decent.

Years of pining and denial have led up to this moment and Yoongi almost doesn’t know where to start now that he finally has you exactly where he wants you. That feeling doesn’t last long though.

Wasting no more time, he takes a breast into his palm, squeezing and massaging while he lowers himself to the other, lapping the nipple of the one neglected. His tongue swirls over the pert bud, sucking it into his mouth fully and you arch into his touch, reveling in the warmth he spreads across your chest. Hands reaching for the sheets above your head for something to ground you.

“Shit,” you can already feel your pulse in your ears, thundering behind your sternum, and booming lower. He’s barely touched you and you’re already so gone.

He switches his hand and mouth, soothing the other breast with the sinful muscle he’s teased you with after all these years drinking whiskey. And by god if you don’t immediately think what it could do in other places. He’s had thousands of years to practice and the gush you feel in your panties lets you know exactly how you feel about the idea.

Using his free hand, Yoongi traces down your back, rounding your ass and squeezing hard enough to make you hiss in pleasure before settling on the back of your thigh.

You can barely stand having his hands so close to your molten heat without having any contact, and it leaves you begging, “Please…Please…”

You feel the curve of his lip quirk as teeth gently scrape the sensitive bud, gasping when he pulls off.

“Please what, Love?”

“More,” you pant. “Please. Anything. Everything. Please just touch me.”

“Mmm,” he’s back at your neck, inhaling your scent, one hand still on your thigh while the other holds him up by your ear. “Pretty Girl has manners after all, huh?”

“Oh fuck you.” you bristle, but it seems to be the reaction he’s looking for. A deeper, sluttier part of you awakening at the words you want to prove both wrong and right.

“There she is.”

Diving back into your neck, Yoongi trails wet, open mouthed kisses down, down, down. And even though you’ve never been so wet, so in the moment, and so unbelievably turned on before, the human part of you wins for a second, as you try to close your legs.

They’re pulled back open in an instant, his eyes never wavering from yours as he says, “Don’t you dare get shy on me now,” a kiss to your inner thigh. And then the other as he kneels before you.

Yoongi places each foot on either of his shoulders and you’re surprised he’s kept on your garter, stockings and red bottoms, their heels digging into his flesh. You wonder if that hurts at all, but by the way his eyes flutter and almost roll into the back of his head at the pressure they place on his frame, you think he actually likes their sting.

“You’re the most exquisite creature I have ever seen. Absolutely no part of you could ever be undesirable to me.”

His earnest tone makes you believe him, convinces you, and you’re once again pliant in his hold, opening up for him.

“Look at me,” he says, and you do. You stare directly at the Devil between your thighs. The King knelt before your lowly mortal form. “You are the most powerful person in this room, understand?”

You nod, but that’s not good enough for him.

“I need to hear it.”

“I understand.”

“Understand what?” He pushes.

“I’m the most powerful person in this room,” and it feels bold to say in front of him. But watching the way Yoongi’s expression fills with pride makes it also feel good. He wants you to feel like you’re the one in charge.

“Remember that,” he says, before ripping your underwear off and throwing them on the floor, feasting his now wholly black eyes on the sight of your dripping pussy.

The more he loses himself in you, the more of his true form reveals itself.

“Fuuuckk,” he whispers more to himself than anything. “So wet…”

Your core is tormented and throbbing at the back and forth between the cold night air and Yoongi’s hot breath and you whine, “I just bought those!”

He spares you one completely unsympathetic look.

“Don’t care. I’ll buy you more,” a deliciously ringed finger slides along your drenched folds and you’re gasping. “I’ll buy you the entire fucking store if it means I get to see you like this.”

Your voice is airy as you give in, any and all outrage gone. “Oka—ohhh!”

His mouth is on your cunt before you can breathe in the oxygen you so desperately need. He’s not holding back and your movements are not your own as you squirm. An arm rounds your pelvis holds you down, keeping you there as he devours you whole and shows you no mercy.

“Fuck, fuck, oh my god Yoongi,” you cry out, having never felt anything like this before. His tongue circles your clit as he sucks, then glides down, penetrating your opening with thrusts that make you lightheaded.

Your hands fly to his locks, pulling and pushing him down further until you're pretty sure you’re drowning him in you. Your fingertips graze his horns and it’s just a reminder that this man is definitely not human. Definitely not someone you should be letting suck your soul out through your pussy. And that makes this whole situation that much hotter.

If he minds where you touch, he doesn’t say anything about it, only groaning as he repeats his motions to get you near your peak, again and again and again until you're quaking against your will and your body is vibrating with every throb from your core.

Every single nerve ending you have is awake and being put to good use, he’s making sure of it. The dam that holds your release is starting to crumble and you don’t know how much longer you can last like this before you’re screaming bloody murder under his grip.

“Yoon…Yoongi—fuck,” you stutter, staggered breaths from your trembling chest loose as you try to verbalize, “C-close. S-so close.”

He hums, and teases a finger around your entrance, circling a few times before pressing in and up to your g-spot. The simple action undoes you and you're coming with a force you can’t even begin to describe. The waves crash down, over and over and you're moaning and cursing his name at the same time, knowing it’s going to be the only one you’ll think of in this situation from now until forever.

He guides you through the last shockwaves as you come down, and when you’re too sensitive for him to continue, you drag him up to your lips, tasting his efforts on your tongue.

“Need you now,” you rush out between kisses.

“Not yet, Love,” he says, pulling back just enough to reach a hand between the two of you.

He slips two fingers inside and swallows the resulting moan from your lips as he goes so deep enough you can feel his rings proding your opening.

“Gotta stretch you out for me first.”

Your hands are back in his hair, nails scratching the nape of his neck as he begins to scissor you open expertly. He growls into your neck at the sensation and that confirms your suspicions of him liking a little pain with his pleasure. So you scratch further down his neck, onto his shoulders and back and you dig a heel into his thigh.

“Fuck, Angel,” fingers stuttering for a second. “Don’t do that unless you want me to come right now.”

“And if I do?”

“Not yet.”

“Why not?”

“Because the first time I come, it’ll be with you around my cock, soaking the sheets with your own.”

Head rolling back, his words going straight to your clit. “Fuck, okay.”

“Now give me another one, Pretty Girl,” he says, picking up speed with his digits. “I know you can, pretty little slut takes my fingers so well.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck…

You can feel it coming this time, building and building. He uses his thumb to rub over your sensitive nub and it has you unraveling under him, screaming out and almost sobbing at the convulsions your body makes. He takes your mouth with his again, consuming your pleasure in every form he can get.

And once you come down, you’ve had it. If you don’t have him inside you within the next 2 minutes you’re going to lose it.

Ripping at his shirt, you're fumbling with the buttons. “Fuck, take this off, and those,” you say, abandoning his shirt for his belt.

Yoongi chuckles, low and sinful, “Bossy,” but gets up, and begins removing the outfit that got you into this situation in the first place. You take off the remnants of your costume as he spares you no peace of mind, the way you did him, taking off his pants and boxers in one go, freeing his mouth watering bulge from its earthy confines.

“Oh fuck me,” you say at his size. He’s big, girthy and you’ve never wanted someone inside you so badly before.

Yoongi smirks as he crawls over you, but you stop him with a hand. “Wait,” you throw a leg over his hip, and flip the two of you so you’re on top. “Let me do this.”

“Whatever you want, Angel.”

Picking up his cock, it sits heavy in your hand as you give him a couple strokes. He hisses at the contact and it only spurs you on, gathering as much saliva as you can, you open your mouth to spit, rubbing it all over his shaft and head, mixing it with the precum dribbling out of the tip.

“Fuck—”

Your 2 minutes are up. Lifting your ass, you guide yourself onto him.

“Oh my fuck, oh fuck,” you say as you slide down slowly, the stretch still very much there as he bottoms out. “Big—ohh, shit—so big.”

Yoongi’s not faring much better, eyebrows pressed together, but eyes devouring the spot where your bodies meet. His breathing is so laboured you’d think he just ran a marathon.

“So tight, Love...Fuck, look at you.”

The delicious sting subsides and you start to move, slow but purposeful thrusts that have him kissing your cervix every time. Fuck he’s so deep, deeper than anyone else has ever been. And once you get a rhythm going there’s no stopping you. You become a force of nature as you bounce on his cock without abandon, taking this for yourself. You don’t know why, but you feel like you have a point to prove and by god you’re going to make it.

Because if the Devil chose you, you’re going to make damn sure he doesn’t regret it.

“Fuck, fuck you’re doing so good,” he rasps, throwing his head back into the pillows, eyes shut in pure bliss, murmuring. “Feels so good.”

His praise pushes you farther, riding harder, grinding your clit against his pelvis, owning both your pleasures.

You’re the most powerful person here.

You are the one in control despite being on top of arguably the most powerful man on the planet. It makes you feel safe and strong and invincible.

And you want to continue, you really do, but your legs are starting to give, so you let him know.

“Ass up for me then,” he says, and you listen, climbing off of him and wincing at the feeling of him slipping out. He gets behind you, lining himself up again and this time it’s much easier as he sinks in, both of you groaning at the contact.

Yoongi hands go to your hips, gripping and squeezing and molding the globes of your ass as you anchor your cheek to the bedsheets.

“That’s it, Pretty Girl, all the way down for me.”

His first thrust has you seeing stars. You're nothing and everything as he continues, but you need more. You need to not be able to speak. To walk. You need to have every thought fucked out of your head. You need him so deep you’ll feel it for a week afterwards.

“Faster,” you beg. “Harder, please.”

“There are those manners I was looking for,” he says and picks up his pace.

You’re incoherent, saying things you’ve never dared to utter out loud before, making admissions you swore to take to your grave and Yoongi is eating up every single last one of them.

Because this is about you. This is about proving years of your denial’s fruitless. This is about him and how you make him lose every ounce of self control he has when he’s around you and how badly he’s wanted you since the day you met. This is about ruining every other man for you, making sure you know what true pleasure feels like, know how you deserve to be treated, and hearing his name on your lips when you come. When your cunt clenches so hard he has to fight tooth and nail to milk every ounce of bliss from it.

This is about him wanting to hear him make you feel good. Needing to hear him make you feel good.

This is about you.

And he can feel you starting to clamp up again, can feel you getting close. So he wraps an arm around your waist, fingers going straight for your pussy.

You shriek, body consumed by the even strokes he delivers as well as the smooth circles around your most sensitive spot, and he revels in it. This is what he’s been dreaming of, what he’s desired over everything else.

You, underneath him in so much pleasure you’re almost non-verbal.

Perfect in every single way.

“Taking me so well, dirty girl. Love the feeling of my cock splitting you open?” he hears a muffled cry and you nod your head. “Knew you would, knew you could take me.”

He delivers a smack to your ass and he feels you clench, so he soothes the battered area before handing out another, soothing that one out too.

“You’re so good for me, pretty little whore so greedy, sucking me in. Why’d you make me think you didn’t want me all these years, hmm? Was I not good enough for you?”

You bury your face in your sheets. Well that certainly won’t do. So he slows his fingers as he reiterates. “Was I not good enough for you then, Angel? Am I good enough for you now?”

“Yes,” you mutter, barely loud enough to hear.

“What was that?” he slows again to a near burningly slow pace, soaking in the feel of you around his fingers and dick. It feels like a place he once called home.

“Yes!” you bellow. “So good…so good to me…more than enough.”

The praise fuels him, and he picks up the speed of everything, cock pounding you into the mattress, fingers rubbing an achingly mind-blowing pattern on your clit. It pushes you over the edge for the third time tonight, your fluttering cunt around his dick almost has him losing it. Almost has him coming undone with you, but he manages to hold it back.

Not yet.

You're silent in your screams this time, overwhelmed with the feelings, fingers nearly ripping your sheets in half at how hard it hit you. How hard you contract around him.

Oh he’s never going to get sick of this feeling.

Ever.

And instead of guiding you down this time, he removes himself quickly, flips you over on your back and inserts himself once more.

He needs that feeling again. Needs you again. You claimed him for yourself whether you knew it or not all those years ago, he was simply following orders. He was yours the second your eyes met for the first time and he’s never looked back since. No one was ever good enough from that moment on, not a single creature on any plane of existence.

There was only you.

Yoongi’s never felt anything so pure and so sinful and so right as you pulsing around him does. He exists only for this feeling. Only for you. It took a couple thousand years, but at least now he knows.

And so he doesn’t slow down, pushing you through your oversensitivity.

It’s time for him to finally claim you back.

“I can’t,” you beg, “it hurts.”

“Not for long, Pretty Girl” he says in his lowest registar. “You can take it, I know you can. Give me one more, I know you have it in you.”

Yoongi’s noticed his words have almost the same effect on you as his motions, so he uses them to their full potential. And as he can sense your fourth orgasm about to land, you surprise him by whispering directly into his ear and raking your nails down his back as hard as you can.

“Only for you, Yoongi.”

His thrusts stutter.

“Fuck!”

He’s coming.

He’s coming hard. With you, with your name on his lips. It's violent and visceral and vicious and vibrant. It’s beautiful. You’re combined divine deliverance.

It’s the first time he’s said your name.

And it’s something he’s going to keep locked away in his memory for millenia to come as he covers your inner walls in the most sickeningly sweet shade of white.

You’re relentless, milking him over and over and over for all he’s worth, not letting up until your body is ready too, ruthless in your quest for ultimate euphoria and he takes it.

Whatever you want. Whatever you need.

It’s yours.

He’ll make it so.

At whatever cost to him, you'll get it. There isn't a doubt in his mind as you finally come down, body lighter, eyes glazed over, devastating smile on your lips.

He’s the first to move, going to the bathroom and grabbing a warm, wet cloth to clean you up. You’re blissfully spent, unable to get up even if you wanted to, limbs like jelly, still in a brain fogged haze.

You got exactly what you wanted.

He cleans his release from your form, naked save for the pink stone he gave you around your neck. Then tosses the cloth in your hamper and lies back down, covering you both with sheets. You cuddle up to him, tossing a leg around his torso, and lying your head on his chest. Contented.

And he’s silent until he can’t stand it any longer. He has to know.

“What changed?”

“Hmm?”

“What about tonight made you change your mind?”

You take a deep breath through your nose. “I…stopped fighting it. The feeling like we would never work, the feeling that I would never be good enough, that we were too different,” he listens intently as your fingers trace patterns on his chest, explaining. “And I was sick of denying myself. It’s my birthday. Shouldn't I get whatever I want on my birthday?”

That seductive smirk makes an appearance.

“Yes.”

“Plus you looked to damn fine in that outfit. A girl only has so much willpower, you know? It’s easier at work when there’s a bar and my job between us, but there was none of that tonight. Just the shots in my system and my unwavering desire to ride your face.”

Yoongi laughs, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen something as beautiful as his smile before.

“Next time,” he says. A promise.

You fall back into a comfortable silence that has you thinking.

“What about you?” you ask.

“What about me?”

“Why am I the only one you like? The only one you put up with.”

He ponders for a moment, thinking about how to phrase what he wants to say.

“I think about the time we met often. There was something about you that was different that day, and I’ve never been able to pinpoint exactly what, but when I saw you I knew I would never think of you the same way I do everyone else. There was something special about your gaze in mine, your company, your soul.”

“My soul?”

“Mhm.”

“You’ve never asked for mine before.”

“Never needed it.”

At that, you joke, “Is there something you’d sell your soul for?”

“You.”

Before you can say all the nothing in your head at his answer, he takes a deep breath that has you rising and falling with it. Something about what he’s going to say next is going to have heavy importance to him.

You just know it.

“You… made me—make me…want to be better. Do better.”

You’re speechless. Not the kind you were moments before. No, you’re truly and genuinely speechless.

You never expected anything like that.

You knew your presence in his life carried a different weight than others, a different air. It’s why you could speak so casually, insult him, and exist near him without fearing for your life. It was something no one had seen from him in thousands of years.

Kindness. Patience.

The man who’s job it is to run the universes torture capital, punishing those who deserve it without an ounce of mercy for eternity and killing those who looked at him the wrong way. The physical entity of the word evil, wanted to be better.

Because of you.

“I don't know what to say.”

“You don't need to say anything,” he kisses the top of your head, tender. “Having you with me is more than enough.”

You can do that.

“Okay,” you say, craning your neck to kiss him. It’s long, languid, and full of emotions you don't want to acknowledge right now, there’s too many of them to sort through in your post four orgasms brain to be able to process properly.

Tomorrow you can start. Right now you just want to bask in the afterglow of the most amazing birthday you've ever had.

“So this wasn’t a one time thing?” Yoongi clarifies.

“It definitely wasn't a one time thing,” not a chance in Hell.

He was yours now.

The Devil was yours.

King of the Underworld, god among men, catastrophe breathing evil was yours. And it brings the biggest smile to your face.

“Oh thank fuck.”

“Not thank God?” you tease.

Yoongi groans. “Do not bring my father into this.”

A/N 3: As always, thanks for reading, loves. Xoxo, - Yoon <3

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genericpuff · 25 days ago

Note

the Underworld is the only godly realm that was built on capitalism

So what's Olympus built on? Socialism? Are the gods and nymphs there living the good life compared to their underworld counterparts? Are Zeus and Hera good monarchs even if they're not good people? Or is it just bad in a different way?

Olympus does still participate in capitalism to a degree (especially considering that they do a lot of buying and selling between the Underworld, ex. Kore isn't the only one who travels for work between realms) but the realm was originally built on offerings and bartering which is a tradition that's still maintained between the gods themselves - and it's a big reason why they care for the mortals at all, because without their prayers and offerings, the entire foundation of their realm and the gods' status as rulers would crumble.

So in that way, the gods in power - aside from Hades who is an exception we'll touch on in a second - don't really care about the societal institutions of money, because money just doesn't really serve any function for them that the mortals' offerings - and their own abilities as gods - aren't already providing them. The capitalist system that exists in Olympus is more so to serve the residents who aren't being actively worshipped, such as the nymphs and satyrs (though some are lucky to gain recognition in ways that benefits them through offerings) and for budding gods who don't have as much influence in the Mortal Realm yet (such as Kore).

That said, there are plenty of complaints to be made about Hera and Zeus regardless of the economy that exists within Olympus, buuuut we'll be getting into those issues later ;3 As for the quality of life of Olympus vs. the Underworld, there are pros and cons to both, as with any economic system. The Underworld has a bit of a steeper divide between the rich and poor, but living in Olympus comes with the caveats of being in Zeus' territory where life can be... unpredictable, to say the least. BUT the Underworld being built on the free market has provided it with unique advantages through their technological advancements (ex. the existence of cars and cellphones in both realms is largely owed to the Underworld); whereas Olympus has greater access to the resources of the gods themselves due to literally being the home of the King of the Gods who everyone tries to keep in their good graces.

We've seen a mini example of this bartering system already back in Episode 56: Hera telling Kore she was going to help her with her garden wasn't just the Queen dishing out orders, she was telling Kore that gardening would be a sufficient enough trade for having her in her home and feeding her.

She's not offering to feed Kore for free (which WOULD be an honor coming from the Queen), she's telling her "I'll provide you with the company of royalty and good food / wine / etc. in exchange for your gardening services." (that said, it is still sort of a high honor in and of itself considering Hera wouldn't let just anyone tend to her property ;3)

But that brings us to the exception - Hades. The Underworld had to be built on a different system due to many of its gods and goddesses not being commonly worshipped, so offerings and tributes were hard to come by. For Hades especially, how was he supposed to earn the favors of mortals when they wouldn't even dare speak his name? This led to him having to build the Underworld on the value of specific resources - such as the minerals and metals and gemstones found in the Underworld itself - which were later refined into common currency that's now used across the realms.

Fun fact, this is also why Kore is ticked off that the Underworld costs a toll to enter for both shades and gods alike - because there isn't a toll booth to get into Olympus.

The Underworld has truly mastered the art of microtransactions LMAO

To wrap up this fun lil' lore dump, there's a WIP scene I have on the back burner that goes into greater detail on Olympus' bartering systems but I haven't had the chance to work it naturally into the story yet, I'm hoping it'll be included in an upcoming episode soon but it's basically a cute lil' shopping sequence between Persephone, Artemis, and Daphne :' )

(enjoy these never before seen sketches of Daphne sporting Y2K-style fashion LMAO)

#ask me anything #ama #anon ama #anon ask me anything #lore rekindled ama #lore rekindled #lore dump #i hope all of that makes sense btw #talking about economics is BLEH

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tinystepsforward · 1 month ago

Text

automattic vs wp engine mastterpost

adrienne's GitHub recap is probably the best place to see a comprehensive timeline of what's going down. it's been kept up to date. my (very out of date) previous writeup is here.

what's happened/other links

Matt has not logged off, just switched platforms, so there's lots on X/Twitter, Reddit, and Hacker News. it's really not worth wading through.

WP Engine actually filed suit.

the complaint includes some truly remarkable screenshots of Matt trying to blackmail the CEO of WP Engine.

which... personally i would not happily work for someone who just blackmailed me while not even my boss, but that's just me. he hasn't denied this at all, in fact confirming on Hacker News:

I haven't doxxed any private texts from other parties like they have. [source]

and, notably,

I even invited her to my 40th birthday on Jan 11, another text message she decided not to share. [source]

this gives me the creeps. in the context of the rest of the way he's talking to her, and the ways in which he's interacted with women in general, it's. not great.

also he slid into an ex-employee (also a woman)'s DMs asking why she was being mean to him bc he'd never been nothing but nice to her, while also making legal threats. so y'know, pattern of behaviour.

a good writeup of the social side of things

if you don't care so much about the open-source stuff, Steph Lundberg's writeup is, like her previous one on Matt's Tumblr meltdown, pretty solid and people-focused.

Mullenweg has already demonstrated egregious lapses in judgment and abuses of power, it’s just that up until now he’s wielded his power against vulnerable populations without access to high-powered lawyers and their own massive platforms.

a more technical writeup

this one is melodramatic in the same ways Matt was (uses war terminology), which i don't agree with, and which led to some... internal arguments at Automattic. that part's not my story to tell, but a little more on that later. it's a solid writeup of the actual WordPress side of things. there's some seriously dodgy trademark behaviour going on here.

of note: this blogger locked comments on his post:

and then Matt, uh, found a way around that:

wild!

10% of Automattic leaves

that's a link to Matt's blog post. here's an Internet Archive link.

in short, staff were offered a severance deal of the higher of $30k or six months' salary. while that's very generous, it's still very risky in today's tech market, especially (for the same reasons i mentioned when Matt was melting down on here) for people outside the US, people who need the health insurance, or people with young kids. despite that, 10% decided with very little notice (they had two days to decide) to leave.

However now, I feel much lighter. I’m grateful and thankful for all the people who took the offer, and even more excited to work with those who turned down $126M to stay. As the kids say, LFG!

i'm thrilled to see some of my ex-colleagues make it out. i'm keeping the rest who have stayed on in my thoughts. i don't know anyone who's wholesale shilling for Matt.

Matt's been pressuring staff to post in support of him, @-ing the entire company to vote on Twitter polls in his favor, and so on. many of the people who stayed have written blog posts about it, all starting with "I stayed". people on social media have pointed out the very clear pattern of Automatticians jumping into discourse to defend Matt, and it doesn't look good.

i don't have a lot to say about those posts, except to highlight Jeffrey Zeldman, whose "I stayed" post is perhaps one of the more honest ones. (his Rodney King reference was in poor taste, and he... i don't like his role at automattic, tbc) but like. he's nearly 70. he helped shape the modern internet and develop its accessibility standards. he has often put his neck on the line for disabled staff who don't have as much clout as he does. given the financial troubles he talks about and the state of this market and how old he is, i personally have read between the lines of what he's saying in a particular way.

fuck, man. i'm sad. i'm sad for all my friends who are creaking under the strain and watching others leave but who can't do that. i'm sad that many of them are left in teams which are half-empty or divisions where significant senior leadership are just gone, with no time to document what they had in progress.

i'm sad for Josepha Haden Chomphosy, the former executive director of the WordPress Foundation, who was dealing with a personal emergency and ended up having to miss WordCamp US (where Matt started publicly starting shit with WPE). she came back from that to a gigantic fire in the community she's invested a decade of careful, Matt-negotiating, stewardship to, and decided to take the severance offer. she deserved better.

other things Matt's been up to

mostly linking to comments or posts which compile things here, bc it's too scattered otherwise.

blocking people from the official WordPress X account if they disapprove of his actions.

publicly talking about a vulnerability in ACF, a plugin WPE maintains, which could put thousands of sites at risk. this is not normal, and he met with so much horror even from current staff that he deleted his post.

saying he comes across badly because he's "a little ASD", which is driving me personally up the fucking wall. he's never once said it before and he really is turning into Temu Elon.

generally bragging that he still has more planned. jesus fucking christ

continually saying that WPE's suit is against WordPress.org and the community, which is not true. on which note, his pinned tweet is certainly something:

his choice of lawyer is uh. the kind of guy to defend nestle against literal child slaves.

as always, while i think WordPress crumbling will disproportionately affect websites in poorer parts of the world, there are certainly tyrants who are causing much more immediate and potent suffering. if you've read this far, please do send anything you have spare to gazafunds.com.

#long post #automattic #tumblr meta #this is not a complete writeup. adrienne's link does better #but here's a few things of interest to tumblr probably ig #tony muses

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mingis-orangejuice · 3 months ago

Text

Love and Deepspace Boys with an MC that's good with children Part.2: Xavier

Summary: You and Xavier help a little boy find his mom. Xavier loves the thought of one day starting a family with you

a/n: this one was really cute, I almost made it way longer. i was gonna add so much more banter back and fourth with the cotton candy vendor but it would have made this fic super long

Genres/Warnings: just pure teeth rotting fluff

Word count: 831

Previous parts 1, 3, 4

You and Xavier were walking hand in hand down the streets of Linkon City. just enjoying each other’s company. You can hear faint crying coming from an alleyway. “Do you hear that?” you stop and hold onto Xavier’s arm for him to stop too.

“I don’t hear anything.” he pauses and cups his ear to try and hear better.

“It sounds like crying. I wonder where it’s coming from?” You start to follow the sound, Xavier close behind still trying to hear what you hear.

You turn down the nearest ally and see a little boy sitting on a box crying. You quickly move towards him. You bend down next to him “What's wrong buddy? Are you lost?”

Without saying a thing he grabs you into a hug and starts crying even more. Xavier standing behind you tries to ask again “Hey friend do you need us to help you find your way home, we’re Linkon City hunters and we’d love to help.” The boy stops crying for a moment and looks up at you two

“You’re hunters? That means you can help me find my mommy right? She’s lost and I don’t know where she is” His eyes start to well up with tears again

“Don’t worry hun” you say as you take a tissue out of your pocket to wipe his tears. We’ll definitely find your mommy, hunters are always here to help.” You say with a smile. You pick him up, stand and you all head out of the alley.

“What does your mommy look like?” you ask the boy.

“She’s really pretty, just like you,” he said squeezing your cheeks together

You laugh “and what else? Is she tall, or short, what colour is her hair?

“Umm she’s tall and has long black curly hair, and umm…” he says trying to think of more descriptors.

“So when did you last see her?” Xavier interrupted

“I don’t know, we went to the market together and I said I wanted cotton candy from the cotton candy stall and I went to go get some but then Mommy disappeared.” the boy explained

“Hmm, so we’re looking for a tall curly-haired lady at a cotton candy stall.” at this point, you 3 are now just across the street from the open-air market and it's swarming with people “This is gonna be harder than we thought.” Xavier thought out loud.

“What?” the boy says tears starting to form again. “I thought you said you were hunters and you could find my mommy?” the little boy starts to cry again.

You shoot Xavier a look. “Why would you say that?” you lightly slap Xavier’s arm “We’ll definitely find your mom, don’t worry. Even if we have to search all night we’ll find her. You have my word as a hunter”

The boy seemed to brighten up after that. You crossed the street and into the marketplace. You searched for about an hour when you came across the cotton candy vendor. “Oh hello, son did you come back with your mom and dad for more cotton candy? The vendor asked referring to you and Xavier.

“No this isn’t my mommy and daddy, they’re hunters and they’re gonna help me find them. The boy informed.

“Oops I’m sorry, but…” the vendor looks at both you and Xavier. “Though, you have to admit you 3 make a cute family.”

Xavier’s cheeks turn a light shade of pink picturing being with you and your own baby as a little happy family. “Haha yeah I guess we do” he rubs the back of his neck

You look at Xavier and smile, but quickly get back to business and give the vendor the description of the boy’s mother, but before he can answer…

“There you are!” a voice from behind you calls out. You all turn around to see a lady just as the boy described.

“Mommy!!! The boy quickly reached out to his mom to hug her almost falling out of your arms, but thankfully she caught him. “These cool hunters helped me find you!” he exclaimed

His mom looked at both of you with a smile. “Thanks so much for helping him, Linkon City should be proud to have hunters like you two.” she thanks you again by buying you each some cotton candy and leaves with her son.

You and Xavier are now walking out of the market together eating your cotton candy. “That was nice of her,” you say looking at Xavier.

“Yeah next time we should help a kid next to a meat skewer stall” he laughs and you playfully nudge him. “But the vendor was right about one thing”

“What's that?” you turn to look at Xavier as he reaches for your hand.

“We did look like a family back there, it was nice.” he looks lovingly into your eyes for a moment. “And hey, maybe if we come back as a family he'll give us a discount” Xavier winks at you mischievously.

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace xavier #xavier #l&ds #lads #lnds #xavier x reader #love and deepspace xavier x reader #xavier x MC #love and deepspace xavier x MC #fluff #love and deepspace fluff #love and deepspace fics #love and deepspace scenarios #love and deepspace headcanons #cute #creative writing #writing

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rebelliousneferut · 4 months ago

Text

finding you | lando norris x model!reader

summary; in the midst of social media pressure you find your soul mate

genre; smau, fluff? i'm not really sure

face claim; angelina michelle

note; english is not my first language

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

f1wags

liked by f1gossip, y/nfans, norris.updates and others

f1wags rumors have been circulating since the beginning of this year about formula 1 driver lando norris and model y/n l/n being in a relationship.

there had been some photos of them being together with friends and they were also captured by some paparazzi but neither of them had confirmed these rumors until today.

this is the photo that lando shared through his Instagram stories.

view comments

username oh... this is weird

username how weird?

username do not misunderstand. i love her and i think she is a very good model, but she looks a little... cold? to be with him

username this is how you perceive her on the internet, but you don't know her and you don't know her true personality. so don't assume those things.

username am i the only one thinking that this is like marketing or smt?

y/nxlando i actually think they are a very good couple ❤️

username how the hell you might already have an account dedicated to them

y/nsource as long as my girl is happy i will be happy too

y/nl/nuser

liked by landonorris, f1gossip, y/nsource and others

y/nl/nuser ✨

view comments

f1gossip lando doesn't miss any post of her

username just like all of us

y/nsource you are always so stunning 😍

❤️ liked by the author

y/nsource she liked my comment!!!!!

y/nxlando mommy slayyyy!!!

username i can't imagine lando dating her, he's so outgoing and she looks so cold

username you assume that just because of a photo. you do not know her so leave her alone

username yes but still

landonorris cute

❤️ liked by the author

username cute??? seriously??? there's no way you could have gotten his attention like that.

f1gossip 🤭🤭🤭

f1wags we need you in the paddock!

username i think she and lando are dating for pr, they don't seem in love

username i agree, they are trying to give her a lovely image

username i genuinely think she is too much for him.

username can you fight lando?

the camera flash is my constant companion, a blinding beacon in the manufactured world i inhabit. every smile, every pose, is a carefully constructed facade. i am a mannequin, a living, breathing doll, expected to embody perfection. the weight of this expectation is crushing my spirit.

behind the scenes, the laughter is forced, the conversations shallow. i am a ghost in my own life, a character trapped in a script I didn't write. the world sees me as a flawless goddess, but the truth is a stark contrast. i am lonely, insecure, and desperately yearning for authenticity.

then, there's lando. amidst the chaos of the fashion world, he is a breath of fresh air. a world away from the superficiality, he is grounded, genuine, and possesses an infectious laughter that makes my heart skip a beat. our paths crossed at a normal day, a chance encounter that ignited a spark.

in his company, i feel seen, truly seen. his eyes hold a depth that mirrors my own longing for something real. there is an understanding between us, a silent acknowledgment of the masks we both wear. in his arms, i find a sanctuary, a place where i can be myself without fear of judgment. lando is my escape, my reality check in a world of illusion.

"what are you thinking about?" lando asked, noticing my distant gaze.

i sighed, my phone still clutched in my hand. "people are saying we're incompatible. that i'm only with you for the image." disappointment laced my voice.

he squeezed my hand reassuringly. "don't let the online noise get to you, love. they don't know us. i love you for who you are, even the cold parts."

i couldn't help but chuckle. "i'm not always cold."

"i know," he replied with a tender smile. "and i love you for that too."

we shared a long, comfortable silence, filled with unspoken understanding.

the following weekend, we walked into the miami gp paddock, hand in hand, ready to face the world together.

f1wags

liked by norrislando.fans, y/nsource, username and others

f1wags lando and his girlfriend y/n arriving at the paddock together today. it is their first public appearance as a couple and also the first time y/n attends a race.

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y/nxlando i love them sm

username of course she was going to be there

y/nsource my girl is so beautiful ofc

username he seems tired of being with her 😂

username for god's sake, get a life

f1 and mclaren

liked by y/nl/nuser, username, norrislandofans and others

f1 LANDO NORRIS WINS HIS FIRST GRAND PRIX 🤩

#f1 #formula1 #miamigp

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y/nsource that was y/n's influence

norrislandofans he won his first race with his girlfriend being there for the first time 🥺🥺

y/nxlando she is his lucky charm for sure

lando.fans my boy did it!!!

username our*

landonorris posted a story;

[caption; my lucky charm ❤️]

y/nl/nuser

liked by landonorris, y/nxlando, franciscacgomes and others

y/nl/nuser miami you will always be so special ❤️

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landonorris i love you

❤️ liked by the author

norrislandofans please don't miss you any race 🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽

y/nxlando what a beauty moment you two shared after the podium

username fr! for everyone that was saying that they weren't in love

y/nsource i love you!!

we emerged from the storm stronger than before, choosing authenticity over the perfect facade. the world saw us as a couple, but we knew we were soulmates.

standing on the balcony of our secluded retreat, hand in hand, we watched the sunrise. the outside world faded into a distant hum. all that mattered was this moment, us, and the promise of a future filled with love, laughter, and unwavering support.

it was a world away from the superficial life I once knew. now, i was living my truth, a story written by my heart, not by the demands of the industry. and by my side was lando, the man who showed me the beauty of being real.

together, we were a masterpiece, an unfiltered portrait of love.

#formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 #formula one #formula 1 driver x reader #lando norris #lando x reader #lando x you #lando x y/n #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #formula 1 smau #smau #social media au #lando norris smau #lando smau

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miazetomer · 15 days ago

Text

Heartless | Rafe Cameron x pogue(ish)!fem!reader (Part XI)

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, angst, fluff, smut, alcohol use, drug use, takes place during season four, the usual

Summary: You were back on Kildare after two years. You were able to finish your business degree at UNC Chapel Hill in just two years after earning enough college credits in high school. But, you came back as a force to be reckoned with. You had your own very successful development company which just so happened to be Cameron Development’s newest competition. Two years later and you’re still finding ways to get under Rafe’s skin.

a/n: y’all im so sad this is the second to last part of this series :( seriously i just want to say thank you to you all for enjoying this series, well i hope you enjoyed it. i honestly have never loved a series more in my LIFE and i can’t wait for you all to see what i have next in my rafe cameron collection AND I JUST WANT EVERYONE TO KNOW I LOVE SOFIA IN OBX AND I HOPE HER AND RAFE LIVE A PROSPEROUS LIFE

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♡♡♡

You paced in front of Mark’s office, tapping your phone against your hand.

“You can come inside.” Mark called from his office.

You took a deep breath and opened the door to his office, walking inside.

“What’s up?” Mark asked, typing away on his computer.

“Um, there’s this gala coming up for business owners and entrepreneurs and investors and stuff like that.” You said, pacing around his office as you spoke with your hands. “And I was thinking it would look good if maybe we went together.”

You had no idea why you were so nervous, you were never nervous. You think it was because of the fight you two had. This was the first time in your life you were possibly facing rejection and that terrified you.

“I agree.” Mark nodded, making you stop in your tracks. You turned and faced him. “Oh, thank God you stopped I was worried you would burn a hole in the carpet. But, yes, I agree. I think it would look good for marketing. And for investors to see us together, to talk to us, together.”

“So, it’s decided then.” You said with a small smile before leaving his office.

♡♡♡

You walked off your family’s private jet in Charleston with Mark, Lily, and your glam team following close behind.

“Did you really need to pack so much for two days?” Mark asked, lugging your suitcase behind him.

“Would you stop complaining? It’s not that heavy.” You said, turning around to look at him.

“Would you like to carry it?”

“Isn’t it supposed to be your job as a man to carry my luggage?”

“Maybe if I was your boyfriend.” Mark mumbled, following behind you.

“Yeah, no way in hell is that happening again.” You scoffed.

♡♡♡

Your assistant quickly checked you into the hotel and you went up to your room.

“You can just leave my bag there.” You told Mark as you dropped your purse on the couch. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow.” Mark said before leaving.

Your suite was a good size. It had two bedrooms, one for you and one for Lily, a glam room, two bathrooms, and of course the living area complete with a mini bar.

“Lily, do you want to grab dinner?” You asked, turning on your heel to look at her.

“Y-you want to get dinner with me?”

“Of course, silly.” You said with a smile.

“Sure Ms. Thornton.”

“Lily, we aren’t at work you can drop the formalities.” You laughed.

♡♡♡

You sat in the glam room of your hotel room, surrounded by your glam team. Your hair was in rollers, you were getting your makeup done, and your dress hung on a hook behind you. You read emails on your phone as you sipped on your latte through a straw.

“Do you ever stop working?” Mark asked, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed.

“No.” You responded flatly, looking at him through the mirror.

“You need to get a life.” Mark chuckled.

“Me? You’re the one who needs to get a life. You know my assistant, Lily, she’s single, you should ask her out.”

“Why would I ask your assistant out?”

“She’s cute, your age, her dad is the CEO of a Fortune 500 company.”

“Which one?”

“McKesson.”

“Her dad is Brian Tyler?” Mark asked, his eyes going wide. “What is she doing working as your assistant?”

“She wanted to do something with her time other than spending her dad’s money.”

“I’ll be right back.”

“Where are you going?”

“To ask Lily out.” Mark said, before leaving.

♡♡♡

You sighed as you waited for Mark to finish getting ready, checking the time on your phone repeatedly.

“Mark, hurry up!” You shouted as you stood in the middle of his room.

“Sorry.” He said, walking out of the bathroom, adjusting his tie.

“God, took you long enough. We have to go, the driver’s downstairs.” You walked out of the room, Mark following closely behind, and made your way to the elevator.

As you rode the elevator, it stopped just one floor below you. You sighed and moved next to Mark to make room in the elevator. You didn’t do much to hide the disgust on your face when Rafe and Sofia entered.

“Y/n, how nice of you to bring a charity case.” Rafe smirked.

“Rafe, how thoughtful of you to bring an extra bartender so the bar staff doesn’t get overwhelmed. That’s what you did at the club, right Sofia? Before you started living off of Rafe’s inheritance.” You shot back, causing Mark to smirk.

“If I remember correctly, y/n, you worked there for a summer as a cart girl.” Sofia said, holding her head high.

“Oh, Sweetie, I worked there to flirt with the frat boys that came through, you worked there to pay your bills. We are not the same.” You watched as the smile dissipated from Sofia’s face. You leaned in to Sofia’s ear and whispered. “Speak to me like that again and I tell Rafe everything.”

You leaned back and smirked as Sofia’s face flushed red.

“Oh, Mark, I forgot to introduce you to Rafe. Mark this is Rafe Cameron, owner of Cameron Development. Rafe, this is Mark, my business partner.”

“I would say it’s nice to meet you, but you did just call me a charity case.” Mark said, shaking Rafe’s hand when he extended it.

“Nothing personal.” Rafe muttered, shoving his hand in his pocket.

“I don’t know, seemed kind of personal. You must be the ex-boyfriend.”

“Seems we have that in common.” Rafe chuckled.

♡♡♡

“I can’t believe you let her talk to me like that.” Sofia huffed on the car ride to the venue.

“You tried playing with the big dogs and you got bit, deal with it.” Rafe snapped back.

“I deserve to be respected, Rafe.” Sofia said, earning a chuckle from Rafe.

“You deserve to be respected? You’ve done nothing to earn her respect. Respect is earned, not given.”

“I don’t understand why you constantly stick up for her. I guarantee she doesn’t stick up for you like this.”

“I stick up for her because she’s been my friend my entire life. You’ve been in my life, what, five minutes and you think you trump her?”

“Who was here for you when your father died? Who made sure you became a better man?”

“She was there for me when my dad died. Those flowers that came from a fake address were from her. I just never reached out to her because I was giving her the distance she asked for. And I became a better man for her. God, Sofia, when are you gonna wake up and realize it’s always been her.”

“Then why are you here with me tonight instead of her?”

“Because, you were the second best choice.”

♡♡♡

You and Mark quickly found your table before you excused yourself to make your way to the bar.

“Rosé, please.” You sighed, leaning against the bar.

Rafe came and stood next to you at the bar, placing his order.

“You just had to say something in the elevator, didn’t you?” You asked, turning towards Rafe.

“You know I’ve always had a hard time keeping my mouth shut.” Rafe smirked, causing you to chuckle. “Besides, I know you would’ve said something if I didn’t.”

“Mmm, I don’t know how true that is.” You said, taking a sip of your Rosé.

“You and I both know you’ve been holding that bartender bullshit in your canister for a while now.”

“Oh, Rafe Cameron, you know me so well.” You mocked, pretending to swoon.

“I do, and that’s how I know you won’t have a good time tonight with Mark over there.” Rafe said, pointing over to where Mark was sitting.

“Why is Mark talking to Sofia at our table?” You asked, glaring in their direction.

“Oh, funny thing, they put us at the same table.” Rafe chuckled, taking a drink from his whiskey.

“Oh, fantastic.” You muttered, finishing your wine.

♡♡♡

“Not having a good time?” Rafe asked as you found yourself standing at the bar again.

“I’m just having the best night of my life talking to all these people who don’t take a woman owning a business seriously.” You said, sarcasm dripping off of every single word.

“Where’s Mark?”

“Talking to potential investors. I decided it would be best if I let him do the talking tonight. Where’s your girlfriend?”

“I sent her back to the hotel room.”

“What? Why?”

“Because, she’s not who I wanted to be here with tonight.”

♡♡♡

You had pulled Rafe into a dark hallway, away from everyone, away from the party. You paced in front of him as he leaned back against the wall, his hands in his pockets, watching you carefully.

You were thinking out everything you wanted to say. You knew this wasn’t the best place to do this, but you were a couple glasses of wine deep, and wine always got you in your feelings. You wanted to make a big speech, you wanted to tell Rafe everything you had been holding back, but all that came to your head was ‘I love you, Rafe Cameron. I love you, Rafe Cameron.’

You sighed and tossed your hair out of your face, turning towards Rafe. You decided you would just word vomit whatever you were thinking at Rafe.

“Okay, I know whatever I’m about to say is gonna be all over the place and some parts probably won’t make sense, but I need you to stick with me.” You started, as you fidgeted with your fingers. “Look, for the last two years I have tried suppressing every feeling I had for you; love, anger, happiness. And I mean really, really suppressing it, like shoving it so deep down and locking it away for what I hoped would be ever. But, the more I tried to suppress it, the more I thought about you and the more I realized you were, honestly, probably the love of my life. And that was half the reason why I broke up with Mark, because I knew he would never be you, I mean he could never be you. And I-I knew coming back would be so incredibly hard. That’s why I avoided you at the club and parties and anywhere else I saw you, because every time I saw you my stomach did this thing where it felt like I was going down on a roller coaster, you know what I mean?” Rafe nodded and you continued. “I tried telling myself there was no way I could be in love with a man who has hurt so many people I love, including himself. But, then I realized I was in love with him, with you. And I know you aren’t the same person anymore Rafe and I am so proud of you for that. Now, I want to say I’m sorry. I’m sorry for leaving you and disappearing when you probably needed me the most. I found out I tend to do this thing where I run away from problems instead of facing them head on, and I’m really trying to work on that. I mean I did it to Mark-”

Rafe stepped forward and grabbed your face gently. He leaned down and closed the space between the two of you, capturing your lips with his. At first you stood there, shocked, but then you closed your eyes and started kissing him back, wrapping your arms around his neck, essentially deepening the kiss.

“Sorry, baby, you started rambling.” Rafe said, pulling away from you. You took your hands off Rafe’s neck and put them on the collar of his jacket, pulling on him as you crashed your lips against his.

It felt like every bad feeling you bad about coming home was starting to melt away and all that was left was the one feeling you had been avoiding most, love.

Your lips worked in perfect tandem with Rafe’s, almost like you were made for each other.

“Hotel room?” Was all you said before Rafe took your hand and started pulling you outside the venue, as he texted his driver he was ready to be picked up.

As soon as you got outside, Rafe’s driver was pulling up. The two of you rushed to the car as soon as your eyes locked on it.

You couldn’t even keep your hands off him in the car as you straddled him and placed kisses along his neck, grinding your hips against his. Rafe tilted his head to the side to allow you more access to his neck as his hands quickly found residence on your ass, squeezing lightly.

When you reached the hotel, you quickly pulled a hundred dollar bill out of your clutch and gave it to the driver before climbing out of the car, and rushing inside the hotel, with Rafe following closely behind.

“You look really good tonight.” Rafe said as you waited for the elevator.

“Thanks, I got the dress at some boutique on Kildare.” You responded with a smile. Your dress really was gorgeous. It was a delicate, pretty, yellow, silk, strapless dress with an open back. The only portion of your back that was covered was your ass and your legs. Rafe was always a sucker for backless dresses and you knew it.

“Does nothing for your ass though.” Rafe joked, leaning back a little as he peered down at your ass. You gasped and slapped his arm with your clutch, trying to hide your smile.

As soon as you got in the elevator, Rafe had you pressed up against the wall, his hands gripping onto your hips as he placed delicate kisses along your neck, nipping at the one spot just below your ear, earning a quiet moan from you.

Once the elevator doors opened to your floor, you were practically running down the hallway with Rafe following, not having to do much to keep up with you. You fiddled through your clutch looking for the key to your suite as Rafe stood behind you, his hands on your hips, kissing your neck. Eventually, you found the key and opened the door, pulling Rafe inside quickly.

“We have to be quiet, Lily is sleeping.” You whispered as you walked to your room.

“Who the fuck’s Lily?” Rafe asked, whispering.

“Lily, my assistant.” You said, turning around to face Rafe. “You’ve met her multiple times.”

“Sorry, baby.” Rafe replied, shrugging as you scoffed, turning back around.

You opened the door to the room you were sleeping in, closing it once Rafe stepped through the threshold. He quickly threw his phone on the bed and you threw your clutch on the empty chair. Rafe’s hands were back on your hips the instant you turned around to face him, his lips crashing down onto yours. Rafe guided you towards the bed as you pulled his tie off and pushed his jacket to the floor. Once the back of your knees hit the bed, you laid down and grabbed the collar of Rafe’s shirt, pulling him down over you. He quickly found his place in between your legs, kissing you more hungrily now, as he pushed your dress up to your hips. You made quick work of his shirt, pushing it off his shoulders as Rafe removed one hand from your hip and brought it down to where the heat was pooling between your legs.

“You’re not wearing any underwear.” He groaned against your lips.

“I knew where I’d end up tonight.” You smirked, only for it to be replaced by a moan when Rafe slipped two fingers inside your dripping cunt.

“All this, just for me?” Rafe asked when he removed his fingers from you and inspected them closely.

“Don’t flatter yourself, some of it was for Mark.” You taunted. You were trying to piss Rafe off, he always was a better fuck when he was pissed off.

“Do you always have to be so fucking irritating?” Rafe muttered, standing up at the edge of the bed. You watched him carefully as he took off his belt, then his pants, then his boxers. You groaned at the sight of him, oh how you missed him.

“Only for you.” You said, gasping when Rafe slid himself into you. Your back arched off the bed as Rafe started slamming himself into you, his balls hitting your ass every time your hips connected. Your pussy clenched around Rafe, egging him on. You had forgotten just how big he was until you could feel him stretching you out. You wrapped your legs around Rafe’s waist, keeping him close to you. Pornographic moans were the only sound leaving your lips.

“Who else fucks you this good, hmm?” Rafe smirked down at the sight of you, practically falling apart for him.

“N-no one else baby, just you.” You managed to get out, as you screwed your eyes shut, arching your back off the bed. You were close, Rafe could tell. He moved one hand and started rubbing harsh circles on your clit. Even after all this time, Rafe knew your body like the back of his hand. It didn’t take much longer after that, you were cumming all over his cock, clenching around him so tightly, you worried you were going to break it. Rafe’s thrusts slowed, guiding you through your high.

“Think you got a couple more in you, baby?” Rafe asked, pulling out of you, and you just nodded. You slipped off your dress and Rafe groaned at the sight of you, everything he has ever wanted was right in front of him. You turned over and got on your forearms and knees, arching your back, you knew it was Rafe’s favorite position, it made him feel more in control.

Rafe’s hands made their way to your ass, squeezing softly, slowly spreading your ass cheeks apart and taking a mental picture of the moment. Rafe wasn’t sure when this would happen again, so he wanted to savor every second. He got down on his knees and placed a delicate kiss to your clit before he ran his tongue through your folds. You arched your back more, wanting more contact with Rafe’s tongue, but Rafe sat back and started running his finger through your folds, occasionally dipping one finger into your entrance, never leaving it in for long. You turned your head around to look at Rafe and you rolled your eyes at the sight.

“Are you gonna keep fucking around, Cameron, or am I gonna have to do this mys-” You started but was soon cut off by Rafe slipping two fingers inside of you and attaching his lips to your clit, your back arching in response. Rafe quickly picked up the pace on his fingers, curling them inside you to touch that one spot that only he has ever been able to reach. You moved your hips to meet Rafe’s fingers, pulling him deeper. You opened your eyes when you felt Rafe’s phone vibrate against the bed, you turned your head to look over your shoulder, just to make sure Rafe wasn’t looking and sure enough he was face deep in your pussy, blissfully unaware of the outside world. When you checked Rafe’s phone and saw he received a text from Sofia, you smirked to yourself. You clicked on the notification and unlocked his phone, reading the ‘where are you?’ text from Sofia. Quickly, you took a picture of Rafe and sent it to her along with a ‘sorry, he’s busy eating dinner,’ text. You turned off his phone and shoved it under a pillow.

You clenched around Rafe’s fingers, the stimulation quickly becoming too much. His name fell from your lips like prayer as you squirted all over his fingers.

You moved further up the bed and turned around to face Rafe. You grabbed his hand and pulled him down on the bed, moving quickly to straddle him before he could make his next move.

You took Rafe’s cock in your hand and positioned yourself over it. Slowly, you lowered yourself over it, earning a groan from Rafe as his hands shot to your hips, pulling you down the rest of the way. Your mouth gaped open at the feeling of Rafe’s cock stretching you out.

“So, fucking tight baby.” He groaned out, tilting his head back as the grip on your hips tightened. You slowly started moving your hips, allowing yourself to adjust to Rafe. But, once the pain subsided and the pleasure took over, you moved faster, your boobs bouncing against your chest. Rafe went to sit up but you pushed him back down, digging your nails into his chest as you rode him. Rafe’s hips met your own as your own movement started to become sloppier the closer you got your end. Your head tilted back as you let Rafe take over. It wasn’t long before you could feel Rafe’s cock twitching inside you, his thrusts becoming sloppier as he came deep inside you, you following closely behind. You collapsed against Rafe’s chest, feeling both of your liquids dripping down your thighs.

♡♡♡

Your eyes fluttered open in the morning at the sound of someone knocking on your door. You groaned and pulled your pillow over your head, not wanting to get up.

“Ms. Thornton.” You heard Lily call out from the other side. “You have to get up, it’s almost time to leave.”

You opened your eyes and checked the time on your phone, jumping out of bed once you realized the time.

“Sorry, sorry. I’m up.” You told Lily, before you walked over to Rafe, shaking him so he would wake up. “Rafe get the fuck up.”

“What time is it?” He groaned, running his hands over his face.

“It’s time to wake the fuck up.” You said, running around the room to collect your things as you threw them into your suitcase. Rafe slowly got out of the bed and started pulling his pants on.

“Well, good morning to you, too.” He muttered, buttoning his pants.

“Time to do the walk of shame, baby.” You patted his chest as you walked past him to pick your dress up off the floor.

“Where’s my phone?” He asked, pulling his suit jacket on over his unbuttoned shirt.

“Oh, here.” You said, grabbing his phone from under the pillow and handing it to him. You continued moving around the room, trying to grab all your things as he checked his phone.

“I have like a thousand texts from Sofia.” He muttered to himself. “Did you-Did you send her something?”

You stopped what you were doing and squeezed your eyes shut. You needed to come up with something and you needed to do it fast.

“I just…did the hard part for you.” You said with a small smile as you walked past him. Rafe grabbed your elbow and pulled you back towards him.

“You do realize I have to be in a confined space with her, thirty thousand feet in the air in like two hours right?” Rafe asked, pinching the bridge of his nose with his other hand.

“You do realize Sofia’s not completely incompetent right? She would’ve pieced two and two together when you never went back to your room. Maybe she even realized what was going to happen when you sent her back to your room last night.”

“I could’ve at least had a conversation with her.”

“Look, it could go two ways: she could give you the silent treatment, move out of Tannyhill, and never speak to you again or she could yell at you the whole way back to Kildare, move out of Tannyhill, and never speak to you again. I mean it’s not like you’re gonna be flying commercial where everyone can hear you. You’re gonna be on your own plane with just the two of you, a couple flight attendants, and the pilots. So, if she tries to kill you there will at least be witnesses.”

“This isn’t how I wanted to end things with her. I wanted to let her down easy.”

“I’m sorry, but I’m pretty sure I did make things easy for you.” You scoffed, pulling your arm away from Rafe so you could make your way to the bathroom. You took a second before you sighed and turned around. “I’m…sorry. You’re right. What I did was immature and wrong.”

Rafe raked his eyes over you, like he was sizing you up. “What game are you playing, y/n?”

“I’m not playing a game, Rafe.” You scoffed, turning back around to put all your skincare away.

“Bullshit, you’re always playing a game. You never apologize.”

“It’s called maturing, Rafe. I’m trying to take a step in the right direction. No more games, no more fighting, less parties, focusing more on OBX Development.” You sighed and zipped up your skincare bag. Your eyes met Rafe’s in the mirror as you attempted to hide the smirk forming on your face and you turned around to face him. “I’m being serious. Me sending Sofia that picture last night was just my last bit of fun before my frontal lobe develops.”

“Fine.” Rafe sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Did you really mean what you said about no fighting?”

“Ehh.” You said, rocking your head back and forth. You smiled over at Rafe and walked over to him, wrapping your arms around his neck before placing a small kiss on his lips. “I’ll see you back on Kildare, baby.”

♡♡♡

“How was your night?” Mark asked as the two of you sat on your plane. He was reading Business Insider and you were reading emails on your laptop.

“Everything went exactly to plan.” You muttered, smirking to yourself. “How was your night?

“Actually, it went really well. I think I even got us some new clients.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, they’re interested in building on Kildare, actually.”

“Oh, that’s perfect.”

♡♡♡

“So, are you and Rafe like getting back together?” Sarah asked after you told her and Kie all about your night with Rafe.

“I don’t know, maybe.” You smiled, wrapping your arms around your knees.

“Just be careful, y/n.” Kie sighed. “Rafe doesn’t exactly have the best track record.”

“I know, I just think he’s…different now.”

“Wasn’t it just a couple of days ago you were yelling at him for knocking JJ off his bike?” Kie pointed out.

“Okay, I know that it sounds bad, but seriously I think he’s different. Maybe he just needs to hangout with us for you guys to see he has changed.”

“You want Rafe to hangout with us?” Sarah asked, her eyebrows raising in surprise.

“Come on, I think it can be fun. We invite him to Poguelandia, we have a bonfire, a couple of drinks, a couple of joints. It’ll be a good time.”

“If you think so.” Sarah sighed.

♡♡♡

Rafe stood around with the boys as they tended the fire and you pulled Sarah aside.

“I have a surprise for you.” You smiled, hiding the surprise behind your back.

“Okay.” She said, hesitantly.

“I was talking to Rafe and I may have convinced him to finally give you your inheritance.” You pulled the paperwork out from behind your back and handed it to her.

“Are you serious?” Sarah asked with a big smile, looking down at the paperwork.

“I told Rafe he should be the one to give it to you, but he said he was too nervous. Don’t tell him I told you that, though.”

“Thank you y/n, seriously.” Sarah hugged you tightly.

“Are the guys getting along?” You asked Kie when she came over.

“Well, besides the fact that they’re fighting over how the fire should be handled, I’d say they’re getting along.” Kie nodded.

“Guys, I think we’re finally getting everything we wanted.” You smiled, looking towards the boys.

♡♡♡

taglist: @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account

114 notes · View notes

five-rivers · 4 months ago

Note

Prompt: Danny’s birth was an accident.

A lab accident, to be precise.

The problem with researching something as esoteric as ghosts was that you had to source all your own materials. If you wanted to know how high ectoplasm concentrations affected human cells, you either had to buy from ethically dubious medical supply companies or use your own.

Maddie used her own. Or Jack's. They worked together, and he was fine with it, so it was essentially the same thing, ethically, if not biologically.

Either way, they kept a whole variety of tissue samples, sourced from themselves. Cheek swabs, bone marrow samples, skin, hair, a tooth Jack had to get pulled, blood, serum and whole, a couple biopsies from different organs, spinal fluid, sperm, a collection of egg cells.

If they were going to market their inventions as family friendly and safe, they needed to know it wasn't going to render anyone sterile. They had Jazz already, and one child was quite enough, but other people might want more. Or assurances it wasn't going to mutate their children, before or after birth. Although in Maddie's opinion, that was quite ridiculous. Ectoradiation was quite different from electromagnetic radiation, or alpha radiation, or other traditional types.

So, that was what Maddie was researching now. Eggs and sperm. She wasn't about to do anything fertilized, of course. Too many ethical problems. But she would put a different concentration of ectoplasm in each test tube for one set, then duplicate those concentrations for the second set, then set up some eggs in one set of vessels, and a sample of sperm in the other, then run them for the same amount of time. Fourteen with eggs, fourteen with sperm. A bit of an odd number, but that's what happened in independent labs. Test tubes broke, and then if you wanted to control your experiments, and keep everything the same, you had to do things in odd numbers. Or buy new test tubes. But the more time you spent shopping, the less time you spent experimenting.

She started with the eggs. One by one, putting them into the the test tubes. One... two... three... four... bottom of the column... five... six... seven... eight... bottom of the column... nine... ten... eleven... twel--

"Maddie! I'm taking Jazz out to see you know who for you know what!"

"Dad!" said Jazz, her two-year-old voice squeaky with outrage. "I know we're going to the doctor!"

"Oh, right!" she called back. "That was today, thanks you for remembering, hun!" Usually, she was the one of them to remember important dates, but Jack was really on top of things for Jazz. It was nice.

"No problem, Mads! Good luck with the mutation experiment!"

"Thanks!" She turned back to the rack of test tubes. Now, where was she? She'd just finished that row... She had sorted them by row, hadn't she? Of course she had. So, she should start with the sperm. Right

She picked up the pipette and started from the top of the column. One.. two... three... four... She kept going, until she hit fourteen, and still had two test tubes left.

Well. That wasn't good. She must have-- Had she overlapped? Or had she just not finished filling the egg test tubes? If the latter, she could just put the last two eggs in the last two test tubes. And label them a little more carefully. She rearranged her worktable and peered into the container she'd carried the thawed eggs over in.

One. One unopened egg.

Hands shaking slightly, Maddie counted back to the thirteenth test tube. The one with the second-highest concentration of ectoplasm. The one that she had almost certainly put both an egg cell and sperm into. She pulled it out of the rack and set it in an empty one, then sat and stared.

This was a serious mistake.

Oh, she knew she could just dump it out in the sink or in the biological waste box, or any number of other things. Even moving at their fastest, sperm took a while to get into an egg. It might not have gotten there yet. And even if it had... Few people would consider a single cell a human being. But... Maddie had been raised Irish Catholic. She couldn't...

She sighed. Before she got carried away, she needed to check to see if it had even... taken, she supposed she should call it. If there was any life there. The ectoplasm could very well have acted as an inhibitor.

She licked her lips and reached for a microscope. First, find out what had happened, then talk to Jack, and then... then they would decide what to do. Together.

#admittedly some garbage science #danny phantom #ask #answer #prompt #prompt work #prompt fill

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thecurioustale · 6 months ago

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My Thoughts on Jenny Nicholson and the Star Wars Hotel

I watched Jenny Nicholson's four-hour "The Spectacular Failure of the Star Wars Hotel" video essay that YouTube showed me recently but which till now I couldn't bring myself to construct a day around. She's in great form here, and I'm pleased to say I go back as a fan of her work all the way to her Friendship Is Witchcraft days. (Blows my mind that she voiced all Mane Six characters, and others, so well.)

Anyway, long story short, Disney built a Star Wars hotel at Disneyworld in 2022 that was themed as a voyage on a spaceship, then proceeded to charge thousands of dollars per person per night, the most expensive publicly-available Disney theme park hotel experience by miles and miles, and then closed the hotel in 2023 after having spent hundreds of millions of dollars. Jenny went into the experience as a member of the core target demographic and spent four hours talking about all the ways it was an underwhelming or outright disappointing experience.

Her video reminded me of Hasbro's own misadventures in corporate greed with Magic: The Gathering, which has suffered in recent years from price increases, disengagement from the fan community, and a huge proliferation of product spam—i.e. more products overall, more ways to buy a given product (e.g., the proliferation of different boxes, which eventually killed the original draft booster box that had powered Magic for 30 years), and more variants of individual cards within and between products.

Hasbro and Disney are very similar in the economic space they operate in, and also utilize similar business strategies. Disney is essentially the S-tier megacorporation to Hasbro's B-tier, and we have seen many of the same corporate trends play out in both companies.

When it comes to Disney theme parks, they have massively increased ticket prices over the years, well beyond the rate of inflation, and have also implemented advance-scheduling systems for faster access to rides that has made the process of exploring a Disney theme park much less spontaneous and a lot more regimented and stressful.

Disney realized, years ago, that their limited number of theme parks—they only really have two, not counting the various sub-parks: Disneyland on the West Coast and Disneyworld on the East Coast—together with Disney's entrenched status as a cultural icon with lots of goodwill and brand recognition among the public, are vastly underserving public demand, allowing them to inflate the price of a single trip almost arbitrarily, well into the four digits—or even the five-digits if you're taking the family and spending several days.

The Star Wars hotel was Disney's "Magic 30": a product so ludicrously expensive as to incur immediate and universal condemnation by their own fans. It's clear to me what Disney was doing: They'd happily turned the conventional price knob up and up and up for years. Now they wanted to experiment with a fundamentally more expensive product class, basically five to ten times more expensive. They wanted to see if the market could support it. Because the growing disparity of wealth in America, together with America's obscene wealth as a nation relative to the rest of the world, means that it's definitely possible: There are definitely millions of people out there who could book a stay at the Star Wars hotel if they wanted to. And Disney was like "Let's see if they will."

And you know what? I think it could have succeeded. Because there really is an obscene excess of wealth in this country, even though most of us don't have any access to it. And we are a culture whose zeitgeist is ever ravenous for the next big, flashy experience.

But instead the venture failed spectacularly. Why? Because such reckless corporate greed is, itself, usually a sign of deep organizational rot and incompetency among the board and executive leadership. In other words, their hotel failed for the same reason they tried building it in the first place: Disney has grown stupid.

The way it failed, going by Jenny's video, is down to two independent reasons:

An outrageous degree of "penny-wise, pound foolish" thinking;

A fundamental failure to anticipate the comfort and pleasure of the guest.

The former is the more obvious of the two, and what really stood out to me as emblematic of it in this whole boondoggle were two simple thing: 1) The hotel rooms didn't have complimentary Disney+; and 2) the free loaner umbrellas for hotel guests visiting the Star Wars Land in Disneyworld were either so worn-out or so shoddy to begin with that, unless it was a big coincidence, both Jenny's and Jenny's sister's umbrella failed while in use. This was in the context of Disneyworld's most expensive customer experience ever, by a lot, and Disney was nickel-and-diming them. Jenny's video goes into a great depth of detail on the dozens if not hundreds of corners they cut; it was basically everything but the food. The result was an antagonistic relationship between Disney and their hotel guests where almost everything interesting cost more money (usually a lot more money) while almost everything included in the main ticket price was of cheap quality or stingy in its allotment. Every aspect of the whole process, from the scammy vibes of booking a room in the first place, to the pathetic after-care for customers who reported a problem after their stay, was likely to leave a sour taste in the customer's mouth.

When you're paying the most expensive prices in the history of a product category, you really just need to be given an up-front price that includes all or nearly all of it. You'll know what you're in for, and you can make an informed decision, and then it's really just down to the host to provide an experience and level of service that matches those high dollar outlays. But instead, as Jenny pointed out, it's like you're dealing with Spirit Airlines, where you're gonna pay a fee for literally everything beyond sitting your body quietly on the airplane.

Mind-boggling hubris. Disney needs to be broken up for the monopoly that it is, and this is just one more example of how convinced of their own inevitability and supremacy Disney has become.

The other main failure on Disney's part is the subtler one.

Jenny focused on how the Star Wars themed choose-your-own-adventure game, which was at the heart of the hotels' central conceit of "live your own personal Star Wars story," was irreparably dysfunctional. Not only was the app, through which most of the "experience" was conveyed, horribly designed; and not only were the tasks delivered through this app mostly busywork to anyone other than young children, consisting of little more than walking around and scanning inanimate objects; but the storyline's entry points and decision points were completely impenetrable through reasonable means, to the point of seeming arbitrary. Jenny proactively tried and failed to get into her preferred storyline; then tried and failed to get into any storyline; then was automatically sorted into one the next morning; and ultimately ended up having only one (dubiously) interactive story experience over the whole weekend.

She talked about how the tightly-regimented and incredibly full schedule was so mentally and physically draining that on the final night she fled her dinner table fearing she would vomit and had to stand in her hotel room staring at herself in the mirror for a while, to understand her illness (which turned out to be stress-induced exhaustion) and center herself.

She talked about how she didn't get to see a much-coveted music show during dinner on her first night because she was seated behind a giant column.

Really, these things are manifestations of the larger and more fundamental failure on Disney's part to anticipate the comfort and pleasure of the guest, as I put it.

As I was watching her video, two thoughts came to me in this vein:

First was that this whole experience really needed to be "playtested," as we might say in Magic. I mean, I'm sure there nominally was, but whatever playtesting they did was completely ineffective. Good playtesting would have brought most of these issues to light.

Second was that the Disney of today has completely lost touch with the namesake of their industry: hospitality. This would never have happened at a new luxury resort by an established world-class hotelier a century ago. Because they understood the basics. Little things, like hot towels.

I could tell just from Jenny's video that this whole hotel was decided from the top-down by soulless, disconnected corporate suits who blatantly disregarded whatever good suggestions I'm sure the Imagineers® came up with. For the failures to be as expansive and ubiquitous as Jenny's video documented, no doubt the institutional rot extends down at least as far as the project manager level, if not down to individual Imagineers® and beyond, but there have to be at least some good ones, and clearly they were overruled early and often. Whenever Disney's leadership was faced with a decision between anticipating the comfort and pleasure of the guest, and saving a couple bucks on a guest who was literally laying out several thousands of dollars to be there, leadership chose the latter.

They were so arrogant that they believed, without noticing or questioning it (unless Disney's leadership is in fact cartoon evil), that they would tell the customer what constitutes a good experience, and the customer would pay top dollar for it. And so you get a guest experience where customers who are actively trying to pick a given storyline can't get any storyline and are later seated for the dinner show behind a giant fucking column.

It's sad, and we should all be glad that their hotel failed. Not that Disney is likely to learn the right lessons from their failure, but the long-term solution here is for leisure dollars to be directed toward other companies. For the several thousand bucks that Jenny paid, she could have had a true luxury vacation in most parts of the world—and for longer than two nights.

One thing that I noticed during the four hours of her video was that Disney, or at least the people in charge of developing this hotel, didn't seem to understand what constitutes an enjoyable story experience. I am forgiving of the low level of complexity in the various puzzles, since the public is famously stupid plus a lot of these guests are going to be children. But there was so little imagination in the actual plot beats: Chewie sneaks in, gets arrested, and busts out. You get to help some Resistance fighters smuggle their luggage. Like, it's insipid. I mean, ultimately, most pop storytelling is insipid, but what I mean is that the dressings were insipid too. Dressing a story up is what makes stories great, at least at the mainstream level. There was no pomp and flourish; no clever interweaving; no electric events that put people on the edge of their seats. Just walking around on your phone for two days scanning crates and occasionally being in the same room while somebody busts Chewie out of the clink—assuming you even make it to the story events in time, since they often fired early.

The whole thing smacks of rule by committee, too many cooks, and suits suits suits all the way down.

I think it's a sign of the times that this is happening. We are once again in Robber-Baron territory in this land. The big corporations and the oligarchs who run them have become so obscenely rich and so utterly disconnected from ordinary life, and their corporate cultures have become so masturbatory and so officious, that they are increasingly creating products for idealized, phantom audiences. They increasingly don't understand real people or real life.

And we can and should bring the weight of the government down on them, more to break up monopolies and allow new and established competitors to seriously challenge them than to actively punish these companies for making money, but even more so we just need to spend our dollars elsewhere. I mean, I'm speaking hypothetically here; I am poor so none of this even applies to me in the first place.

Hence why, even after inflation, this is still just my two cents.

#Jenny Nicholson #Star Wars Hotel #Galactic Starcruiser #Justice for Amethia Tope

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deadtired-highkeyenergetic · 7 months ago

Note

Hello! May I please request #5 “Flowers” from the prompt list? Thank you! :D

Ayyyyyyy one of my fave prompts from the list! Glad you requested it!!

Summary: You give Astarion a personally handmade flower crown

Each flower has its own unique meaning, though some meanings have been lost to time. Your mother’s voice teaching you the meaning of some flowers has long faded from your memory, a loss you mourn as you scour the markets for books on flowers and their meanings.

You know Astarion isn’t one for receiving flowers, but its not the flower you want him to hold dear to his heart, no, it’s the meaning of the flower that you want to imprint into his mind for all eternity.

By a stroke of luck, you find a book detailing the meaning and uses of certain flowers in Faerun hidden away in the corners of a merchant’s store. A quick purchase later and its now permanently in your hands, ready for perusing.

Astarion raises an eyebrow when he sees you sitting in your tent, engrossed in a book instead of sitting with the others around the campfire, unwinding after a long day of adventuring. The others don’t seem to mind the missing company, but this is most unusual behaviour from you so Astarion takes it upon himself to investigate this change.

“Hello darling, not in the mood for mingling tonight?” He smiles, closing the distance between the two of you. You shift over wordlessly, making space for him and he happily sits down, taking a look at the book you’re reading.

“I had no idea you were into flowers, I thought you were more into…clothes.”

“You thought wrong, then.” His favourite smile of yours graces your lips as amusement flashes across your face. “If however it were a book about clothes…I could be persuaded to be into clothes.”

Astarion can’t help but laugh at your attempt at a sly look and leans in to press a quick peck to your lips. “Leave that kind of talk to me, darling. You’re positively terrible at it.”

“At least I’m not negatively terrible at it.” You shoot back.

Astarion rolls his eyes, half immune to your type of jokes at this point and swipes the book from your lap, curious. You’re left hugging him from behind as he holds the book out of your reach, reading the page you’re on.

“Aren’t night orchids our resident cleric’s favourite flower?”

“Yes, they are.” You rest your chin on his shoulder, still clinging onto him.

“Night orchids are known to symbolise rarity, uniqueness, beauty and spirituality. Who knew her favourite flower represented her so well?” He remarks.

“They also represent someone else very well.” You mumble into his back sheepishly. Astarion hums in response, closing the book after placing a bookmark in it for you and turns to face you, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“Yes, Star?” You ask.

Astarion buries his face into your hair, letting out a soft breath that ruffles the strands on the top of your head, causing you to smile softly and reach upwards to run your fingers through his hair. A quiet purr rumbles in his throat as he leans into your touch, enjoying the attention you’re lavishing upon him instead of the book. You indulge him, knowing nights like this where you’re not needed by anyone else are few and far between. Astarion curls his fingers around yours, enjoying the way your hand neatly slots into his as if they were made for each other. Maybe they were, maybe you were always meant for him and vice versa. He quite likes that thought.

You play with a few strands of his silver hair, twirling them around a finger. “A flower wreath would look really nice on you.”

“Would it now?” Astarion would really rather you remain here until dawn breaks instead of going out to pick flowers, even if they are for him.

“It would. You will look really pretty with one sitting on your head like a crown.” You draw a ghostly circle around his head, mirroring where the flower wreath would sit before clapping your hands together. “That settles it! I’ll make you one!”

Astarion quickly moves to grab your arm, eyes wide as his mouth moves to convince you to stay, to not leave him yet. He’s ready to beg you to remain by his side for what remains of the night, afraid that someone might steal you away from him but you haven’t moved an inch from your spot.

“I still don’t know what flower to use,” you chuckle. “Guess I’ll have to stay here for the rest of the night, hope you don’t mind.”

“No, of course not, darling.” He swallows, shoving his embarrassment to the back of his mind. You lean against his chest, book tossed aside in favour of your lover and inhale his scent, blissfully snuggling against him. He holds you close, tracing patterns on your exposed skin until you fall asleep and he tucks you into your bedroll, pressing a kiss to your forehead and sneaks out of your tent, but not before wishing you a quiet goodnight that you’re far too deep in sleep to hear.

The matter of the flower crown gets pushed to the back of your mind and out of Astarion’s head in favour of more pressing matters as your party journeys on until you stumble upon the cave Shadowheart once lived in deep in the underground Sharran temple.

While the others search the cave for loot or lost childhood memories, a certain plant catches your eye — night orchids. You go about picking them, counting how many you would need for a flower crown that would fit Astarion’s head and are relieved to find there are sufficient night orchids in the cave for your endeavour. Stashing them safely in your pouch, you turn to gather the others and head off to the Sharran dorms for some much needed rest whilst letting Shadowheart take back as much of her lost memories as possible. She deserved that, at least, for all she’d been through.

You claim the bed closest to the back corner of the room and begin work, praying that you remember how to make a flower crown and fortunately, muscle memory saves the day as your fingers weave flower after flower into a circular shape. It’s not the best looking flower crown you’ve ever made, being out of practice, but it’s certainly passable. You turn the delicate object in your hands, checking it over before glancing upwards. Astarion was arguing with Wyll about the bottle of wine he definitely stole despite his claims of innocence and the others were enjoying the show, save for Gale who was cooking tonight’s dinner.

Slipping out of your bed, you sneak over to Astarion’s bed to deliver the goods before walking up to the group as if nothing happened, breaking up the fight that was escalating with the announcement of food.

When Astarion throws back the covers to lie down, he finds a flower crown sitting atop a book he remembers seeing you read before and stares at them, resisting the urge to throw the covers up again to remove the illusion. Surely he was hallucinating or something, no one would deign to personally handcraft something so beautiful and delicate just for him. Or maybe the giver had placed them on the wrong bed, any of the others maybe except for Lae’zel would appreciate such a gift.

“Do you like it?” Your voice sounds behind him. He turns around, nearly dropping the blanket on the flower crown.

“It’s for me?” He asks, confused.

“Yeah. It’s on your bed, is it not? Did I make a mistake?” You frown.

“No, you placed it on my bed.” Had you made the flower crown for him? Why did you spend such precious time and effort on him? The thing of beauty was wasted on someone like him, it would have been better off in the hands of anyone else, even Karlach despite her probably reducing it to cinders before it could properly rest on her head.

“That’s a relief. I thought I had the wrong bed for a moment,” you smile. “Well, goodnight then, Astarion.”

Before he can say anything, you’ve headed off to your bed, leaving him alone with his swirling thoughts. He gingerly picks the crown up, checking to see if anyone is paying him any mind before slipping out of the dorm and putting it on when he deems it safe enough to do so. His gaze falls upon a nearby mirror and sadness clouds his eyes when he realises he won’t be able to see how he looks like with the flower crown. His reflection will forever evade him, not even the tadpole could keep it from running away.

“You really do look pretty wearing it.”

“Why, thank you, darling.” Astarion smiles, taking a little bow. The action causes the flower crown to slip and when he straightens, it’s lopsided.

“Concentrate on the tadpole. I want to show you how you look with the flower crown on.”

Astarion blinks.

“Oh come on, don’t look at me like that. I hadn’t thought about using our tadpoles like this before until Gale pointed it out,” you huff. “I bet you haven’t thought about it either.”

“I —”

“Concentrate already.”

“As you wish, dearest.”

Astarion closes his eyes, concentrating on his tadpole’s connection with yours and when he opens his eyes, a pale silver haired elf stands before him, ruby red eyes piercing into his very soul. He really is pretty with the flower crown on, like you said. The dark blue colour of the night orchids stands in stark contrast against the silver of his hair, creating a halo of blue around his head.

When he next opens his eyes, he’s back in his own body, tears threatening to spill over.

“Thank you,” he manages to whisper, throat clogging up.

“You’re welcome,” you smile softly, reaching over to cup his cheeks. He closes the gap without hesitation, lips meeting yours in a dance of bliss and affection. The night lasts longer than usual, or maybe it was longer than a night but neither of you can tell from underground.

When Astarion heads back to his bed, he remembers the book that is still lying underneath its sheets — a book about flowers and their various meanings with a rather familiar bookmark sticking out of it. He flips to the marked page and the section is titled ‘Night Orchids’. At the end of the passage letters come together, forming a sentence that causes tears to cascade down his face.

Gift this sweet bloom to someone you believe is beautiful in their unique and special way.

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #astarion bg3 #astarion x durge #astarion x reader #baldurs gate astarion #astarion romance #astarion x tav #astarion x you #astarion ancunin #tavstarion #durgestarion #bg3 fluff #bg3 fic

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dwindlinghaze · 1 year ago

Text

a flight to paris

(remus lupin x reader)

summary: you and remus have been in an established relationship for years but one day you received an unexpected break up call from him.

contents: she/her pronouns, modern!au, angst (?), break up, inspired by a barbie movie, my horrible english, i wrote this out of boredom, oh and this is a multipart :)

　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

on most days you enjoy your summer holiday. you have a part time job in which you worked for a magazine, having your own personal workspace in the office headquarters and all.

your days are mostly surrounded by the latest style, magazine covers, hollywood gossip, and beautiful photoshoots of women. it was fun, really. that is if mr. wellins wasn't your boss.

he's a walking patriarchal figure. hate is not enough to describe your feelings towards that man.

"i don't think that's a good idea to put in there," you spoke during one of the meetings.

"what do you mean? it's a good one, everybody will be intrigued!" he scoffed.

you shifted uncomfortably in your seat, glancing at the others but they just gave you a warning look. no one dared to go against mr. wellins. "it just doesn't feel right y'know- to put that in there considering it's just an allegation and not confirmed?"

"but we focus on marketing here! who will pay your wage if it weren't for these nosy people who read and buy our magazines? we have to find a way to get our sales higher!" he said sternly, glaring at you with cold eyes.

"look here, if you put that article, surely our reputation will be stained. you don't want that to happen do you? we just need to find something else- something more positive and harmless but still eye catching. like the new box office movie that everyone has been talking about lately. it doesn't harm anyone, in fact it's supporting them. what do you think?"

every one of your co-workers nodded in agreement, waiting for the boss to reply.

he looked bored. "you know that flapping thing you just did with your mouth?"

"you mean- expressing my opinion on what's better for the sake of your company?"

"yeah that," he rolled his eyes. "stop doing that."

"i think y/n's right, makes me wish she were the boss," one of your co-workers mumbled under her breath.

he looked sharply at the girl, "i can easily fire you."

"oh no no, i feel like we just- need to discuss about this more you know?" you defended.

"oh get off this place. end of discussion!"

"we can talk like in the coffee shop, or the commissary-"

"not me getting off, you getting off. get out you're fired!" he slammed his fist.

"wha- what? fired?" you said breathlessly, eyes widen in shock.

you got to your car, speeding to get home and just curl up in the arms of your boyfriend- remus lupin. you needed him. his constant whispering of sweet nothings, his warm embrace, his smile that can rip away all negativity.

just like magic, your phone started ringing with remus in the other line. screen lighting up, his pretty face on the screen. you smiled, so big and decided to stop at one of the parking lots nearby.

"hello?" you heard the sweet voice of remus lupin.

"oh rem! i'm so glad you called!" you exclaimed, heart warming at his comforting voice.

"things aren't right with us and you know it. they haven't been for a while," he said. his ever-lovely voice that makes you feel safe was nowhere to be heard. your heart dropped, chest hurting all of a sudden.

"what?" you choked on the verge of sobbing. "remus come on."

"i'm breaking up with you... right now." he said it like you don't matter to him at all. you clenched your phone, eyes already hurting from the incoming tears.

"you're not... are you serious? what are you saying?" you thought your day couldn't get worse, but the universe said otherwise.

"it's over. and if you're smart, you'll forget i exist."

and just like that, the line disconnected. you couldn't stop the tears from falling out of your eyes. not only have you lost your job, you also have lost your remus.

you never thought he would ever break up with you. especially since you both were in a strong relationship of four years. no matter what problems appeared on the surface, they always got resolved.

wiping your tears away, you tried to drive safely to lily's house. your best friend. you needed someone to talk to. someone to pour your heart out.

"i lost my job and he broke up with me," you said in shame when she opened the door to see you with red rimmed eyes.

"he broke up with you because you lost your job?" lily gasped.

"no... separately," you sobbed. then you told her the whole story of how you've had lost your job and how he broke up with you on the phone in your car just then.

"what kind of guy does that!" lily said in disbelief. it's so not remus to break up with you like that. knowing how much he loves you since forever ago. you two are perfect for each other. nothing could ever compare to the bond you both had.

"i guess a guy with no real emotions," you huffed, reaching for lily's tissue.

lily suggested for you to call remus again, 'cause no way is someone like him said something like that to you. there was no response though, he's not answering.

"maybe you misunderstood. what did he actually say?" lily asked once more.

"he said that it was over, and if i were smart i'd forget he ever existed," his words ringing in your ears.

"does he speak another language where it means 'i love you'," lily tried, you shook your head.

"that's it," she picked up your phone. "i'm blocking him from your cell, e-mail, everything! you do not break up with anyone like that! when i'm done, we're gonna go somewhere that you love. a place where you feel happy and good about yourself."

"i wanna go far away," you mumbled.

"that's right, you should go far away and clear your head! forget about them. men are getting harder to like these days," lily agreed, snapping her fingers.

"i'll go far away... like aunt milicent's!" you said.

"aunt millicents?" lily asked.

"yeah she's a designer in paris. has a fashion house and everything. i always loved being there. tons of people, energy, fabrics, and dresses... and my aunt in the middle of it all! oh how i want to be like her when i grow up. that's it i'm going there!"

"super fun!" lily exclaimed, truly happy for you. "when are you going?"

"right now! i can spend the last weeks of summer vacation with her," you managed to crack a smile, "i don't need remus. what i need is to book a flight to paris."

"remmy, you can't help me with our summer project if you're on the phone all the time," jessica said, snatching remus' phone out of his hand.

"i just don't get it, i can't get through y/n at all!" remus said in exasperation, brows furrowing in confusion and worry clouding up his head.

"i'm sure she's fine," jessica said, fluttering her lashes.

remus was unconvinced, he couldn't focus the whole time. "it has been since yesterday."

"y/n is a busy person. she'll call when she gets the chance... in the meantime...," she jerked her head towards the script.

"do we have to tape that again... i'm not an actor, i probably sounded stupid," remus scoffed.

"you sounded beautiful," she said, smiling flirtatiously at him.

remus was too fogged up on the thought of you to notice her behaviour. you never ignore him like this. no matter how busy your lives were, you two always made time for each other.

"lils look!" marlene gasped, pointing at remus and jessica sitting together on the table across the room.

"oh no. don't tell me that boy dumped y/n for jessica," lily said in annoyance and disbelief.

the two of them walked over, crossing their arms. "are you kidding?" lily said coldly, shooting daggers at remus.

"lily, marlene! where's y/n?" remus asked, sitting up from his chair. he didn't know why they looked upset.

"why do you want to know?" marlene questioned.

"i can't reach her! i've called, i've texted, i've emailed. nothing worked. is she okay?" remus said desperately.

"y/n's fine. she wants nothing to do with the twat who dumped her over the phone!" lily scolded.

"wha- huh- dumped her?" remus asked in shock. he would never dump you. you're everything to him. "i would never do that, c'mon you guys know how much she means to me!"

"you know what uhh i actually need to run, see you," jessica said, slipping away from the table. nobody paid attention to her though.

"don't play dumb! she told us what you said 'it's over and if you're smart you'll forget i exist'."

"wait what?" remus exclaimed, eyes travelling towards jessica who was chuckling guiltily. "that line... a part of the script i read yesterday. don't say you recorded it and play it back to y/n," he said, eyes closing painfully.

"i'd be happy to tell you that," jessica said, batting her lashes. oh what a nerve. "it was a joke. i never thought she'd actually believed it. she must have serious doubts about the relationship."

remus ignored her, turning towards lily and marlene. "where's y/n? i need to see her now," he said, heart racing at the thought of you.

"uh- she's kind of..." lily slowly replied, eyeing marlene, urging her to finish the sentence.

"in paris."

"paris? paris, france? since when was she going to paris?" remus was panicking. he knew he messed up and he's willing to make it right again.

"uh a long story..."

"what should i do? i need to talk to her as soon as possible," he scrunched his hair, brows knitting.

"y/n went through a lot yesterday... you know what you can do to make her feel better? a grand romantic gesture! don't just call her. go book yourself a flight to paris, show up to her aunt milicent's doorstep, and prove how much you love her!" lily said.

"she'll love it!" marlene agreed.

"i'm on it," he opened his phone to search for a plane ticket. "i'll book the next flight out of london."

#remus lupin x reader #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin x reader fluff #remus lupin fic #remus x reader

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ktempestbradford · 6 months ago

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Lactation Influencers... Are Y'all Okay?

I dislike clickbait headlines as much as the next Gen Xer, but that does not make me immune to them. Thus, when I saw this headline...

Cookbook author speaks out following controversy over lactation cookies ad

...I had so many questions that demanded answers. I had to click.

Friends, I was not prepared for the journey I was about to embark on.

Before I even got to the first line of the article, this assaulted my eyes:

Whatever I was expecting, it wasn't that.

From the article:

Molly Baz is speaking out following controversy over a Times Square billboard featuring the pregnant cookbook author promoting lactation cookies. ... Brex, the company that sponsored Swehl's billboard, told ABC News the ad was removed following a message from Clear Channel, which owns the digital billboard. According to Brex, Clear Channel said the image depicted was "flagged for review."

Okay, but... lactation cookies?

According to Baz, the concept was meant to "empower" pregnant women and the cookies in the ad are marketed to help postpartum moms produce nutrient-dense breast milk.

*looks it up*

Y'all. They're called "BIG TITTY COOKIES"

I'll give you a minute to breathe through it.

Eye-rolling aside, this isn't the worst product I've ever heard of and, hey, maybe the cookies are good.

So why did Clear Channel want the ad gone? The answer to that isn't straightforward for a couple of reasons.

They did not remove the ad or even ask it to be removed from their billboard.

Molly Baz decided to use this opportunity tragedy to raise her profile as a lactation influencer the alarm about how men are misogynist (????).

"It's super disheartening and infuriating to me that my, kind of, first public foray into being a public mother was one that was deemed inappropriate," Baz said. Said Baz, "From my perspective, the imagery that we put together was no different from any of the other ads that are in Times Square." "[T]ake one look at the landscape of other billboards in times square and i think you'll see the irony. bring on the lingerie so long as it satiates the male gaze," Baz wrote...

I feel I can confidently say that I'm not being sex negative when I retort: MA'AM, what?

"There's a bit of a history of, I will say, a double standard that when bodies, specifically breasts are shown when it comes to selling lingerie, let's say, that's more acceptable but when it's something having to do with prenatal wellness or postnatal care, nursing, that tends to get flagged and we see a little bit of backlash," [Zoe Ruderman, a chief content officer for Adweek], added.

I know this is true in general, but in this case, is that what's really going on? After all, Clear Channel didn't even take the ad down permanently, and the marketing company provided an alternate ad without even being asked. One has to wonder if this is a manufactured controversy.

I say that even though I know full well that there is a double standard when it comes to women's bodies and whose gaze is being catered to and when it comes to lactating mothers, lactation, and women's health. That said, there's no way this image wasn't chosen for its Male Gaze Worthiness.

It's not the amount of exposed flesh, which isn't any worse than any lingerie or bikini ad. It is that this woman is holding cookies up to her breasts next to text that says "Just add milk" and the name of a website/company that is probably well-known to people who are or want to be pregnant and little known outside of that. If I were in Times Square, looked up, and saw that? I'd assume it's an ad for a sex fetish bakery.

In all honesty, the thing I assumed was controversial (before clicking) was that someone had posted an ad for cookies made using human breast milk. That would have made somewhat more sense as a controversy.

There's no way everyone involved in "concepting" this campaign (yes, they used concept as a verb in their official statement) didn't know this was a possible reaction or outcome. They appear to have expected it. Which is why they immediately had another ad to replace it and some very RAH RAH WOMEN! Down with the Patriarchy! social media posts likely on deck. That's real feminist of you, becky.

The disingenuousness of it all bothers me the most. Just because the social justice issue they're highlighting is real doesn't mean they are somehow champions of the cause because they dared to show a pregnant belly on a billboard. If anyone complained, I doubt their complaint was based on a prejudice against lactating mothers or that lactation was hinted at.

#manufactured outrage #lactation influencer #long post #long reads #just add milk

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stayevildarling · 7 months ago

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Wilhemina Venable x Cordelia Goode x Reader- I miss you, I'm sorry

A/N: I got inspired by listening to the song ,,I miss you, I'm sorry'' by Gracie Abrams and this is the result 🤷‍♀️

word count: 7k

tw: sad, breakup, happy ending

taglist: @lunaticwhittaker, @billiebeanhoward @lanawinters-ily, @kenzbro, @minaslittleone, @httpfiftyshadesofgay @whitelotus00, @ninaahs , @vintagepaulson , @isle-of-earle, @paulsonsratched, @stepintomyworld, @grilledcheeseandguavajelly, @lucyintheskywithxanax, @fanfics4world, @mymiraclewitch, @hazard-to-myself, @awritersometime, @ohrwurm26, @wastdstime

It was simple really, so simple, yet today had tested you in ways you hadn't been tested before. Finally deciding to do something useful with your weekend off, you decided to head to the markets, maybe even strolling through some shops. Despite wanting to mope and bury yourself inside your apartment, not doing much other than staring at the ceiling or maybe doing some reading. A lilac candle, that's all it took, that same shade of lilac bringing you back to everything you know, bringing you back to them.

Them- you aren't sure how you would describe them to someone, maybe the sun and the moon? maybe soft glances shared, eyes locking and a steady but safe hand on your thigh at all times. Maybe yellow and purple? you aren't sure. And despite it having been so long now, you still remember everything, the way their touches felt on your skin, the way their voices sounded, the way their lips would feel on your own. Cordelia and Mina. Supreme to the academy, HR to a very important company. Your former girlfriends.

It's like everywhere you go it brings you back to them, a building looking a little too familiar to the coven, a colour reminding you a little too much of them. And today a simple lilac candle was enough, strolling through the markets, trying to have a good time and do some forgetting, instead you are pulled back into the past. With trembling hands and tear stained eyes, you make your way back to the nearest bus stop, cutting some corners to get there quicker as the last thing you currently want is embarassing yourself in public like this, despite not a lot of people caring either way, too busy with their own lives.

And then just like that, faith decides to have different plans for you, bumping into a stranger and landing on the floor as a result, quickly blinking some tears away as you open your eyes. However, the person in front of you was definitely no stranger. As soon as your eyes land on their legs, exposing the long flowy pants and those all too familiar shoes, you know exactly who is standing in front of you. Cordelia. You find her brown eyes locking with your own, staring at you, both in shock, sadness, concern and at last love. ,,Y/N'' she surprisingly gasps, blinking away the shock. ,,Here let me help'' she tries, holding out her hand to you. For a second you have no desire of taking it, but the temptation for even the smallest chance to feel her soft hand again too strong.

Quickly you compose yourself, clearing your throat and trying very hard to ignore the lump in your throat and the way your eyes were about to betray you. You can't help it, taking in her all to familiar features, the soft blonde slightly curled hair, that sweater you adore with the flowers on. However she looks tired, your Delia often looked tired, especially on the weekends after a busy week in the academy, looking after her girls and all the responsibilities on her shoulders. There was something else about the little bags under her eyes and the absence of that sparkle in her brown orbs. ,,I'm so sorry'' you practically blurt out, her eyebrows knitting in confusion at your statement.

,,For um- bumping into you'' you quickly compose yourself. She nods then, her lip doing that little thinking thing she would always do. There is a painful silence, not an awkward one, painful, neither of you being able to find the right words. ,,So - how have you been sweetheart?'' she asks, her eyes searching yours and that's enough. The simple pet name sending waves of heartache and pain all over you, making your heart physically hurt at the damage she just caused. ,,Fine, how about you?'' you quickly reply, wanting to escape this situation as soon as possible. She pauses then for a moment, thinking back to the last year without you. ,,It's been hard'' she truthfully tells you and it takes you by surprise, thinking she wouldn't be honest in this moment.

,,I'm sorry to hear that'' you quickly announce, glancing towards the bus stop to check the time table and hoping it would show up any moment so you could leave. But there is no bus in sight, the timetable too far away for your eyes to be able to read it. ,,How's.. how's Mina?'' you ask, absentmindedly almost. And that's when it hits Cordelia, that same heartache and pain crashing over her features. The way you said her name with such ease, sending moments through her head, little flashbacks of when you used to call your other girlfriend just that. ,,She-'' Cordelia pauses then, unsure what to say, the last year having been a lot of things but easy. ,,She's fine'' the supreme eventually explains, unsure how to explain a year worth of events to you just like that. You simply nod, that being all the confirmation you needed.

,,Y/N I-'' she begins and by the way her voice shakes you know exactly what she is about to do. ,,Delia please don't'' you try, tilting your head a little as you search her eyes. You don't want her to say those words, as she or rather they had said them before. You don't want to go back to that place of heartbreak. ,,I really need to get going, my bus is about to get here'' you compose yourself, tensing your shoulders a little to make your statement any more believable. ,,Y/N I- We miss you, I'm sorry'' she almost whispers the words and your eyes close then, having to force them close in order not to cry in front of her in the middle of the busy streets.

She notices, of course she does, Cordelia always noticed absolutely everything, and she frowns then, feeling bad but she couldn't stop herself, having not seen you in so long and undeniably missing you. It had been hard on all of them, the witches at the coven- who eventually became your friends and family. Wilhemina- the thought of her little one not being around killing her. And so you stand there, surrounded by the busy streets, cars zooming past you, your bus long having left, the sun slowly setting, tears streaming down your eyes, your breath hitching and chin wobbling. The blonde watches in silence, in pain, feeling terrible to open up those wounds again, a part of her wishing she never said those words.

There had always been something about your connection to Cordelia, the quiet love, the silent one where neither of you needed to have big conversations in order to bring your feelings across. And despite it being a year, there is something so painful about seeing her like this. You had often thought about it, maybe bumping into them again, maybe in the summer both of them strolling around the markets, maybe in December, running the annual errands for Christmas at the coven. And each time those thoughts crossed your mind, you saw them happy, healthy almost glowing as they walked beside each other hand in hand. But seeing her so tired and vulnerable and honest caused all that strength and stubbornness about showing your feelings in front of her to fade.

,,Y/N I'm so sorry'' she tries, reaching out to wipe your tears but she stops herself just in time, knowing she has no right to do that anymore, often ridding you of your tears in the past. ,,It's fine Cordelia'' you finally manage to muster up, angrily wiping your tears and stopping your pathetic cries. You take a step back, putting a distance between you two, wanting to go so badly, knowing you had been right here before.

,,I should really get going now'' you announce, averting her gaze and glancing towards the bus stop, sighing in frustration as you notice the last one had left. Of course Cordelia knew, being the supreme and all and so her eyes draw you back towards her. ,,Can I take you home please?'' she almost whispers, biting her lip to hide her own anxiety, despite her voice betraying her. Instinctively, you take another step back, shaking your head no. ,,I don't want you to be stranded here in the dark'' she argues back, her voice soft despite the circumstances. And then it dawns on you, how long the two of you had actually been standing there, despite not a lot of words being exchanged, how you left for the market in the afternoon and it being incredibly late now. You could easily walk, despite that taking about an hour for sure, possibly even calling an uber despite that being expensive and you not being the richest.

The exhaustion from seeing her again, crashes down on you like a tidal wave, drowning you in fatigue and sleepiness. Fighting back a yawn, you meet her eyes, blinking away the exhaustion. ,,Come on, I'm just parked around here'' she tries again and sometimes you hated her stubbornness but you could never say no to her- not your Delia and so without having much of a say, your legs take over and follow the woman, catching a sense of the all too familiar perfume and scent of honey and vanilla- home. Sensing your exhaustion, she opens the door to her car for you, offering to buckle you in but you quickly refused, that definitely being too much and bringing too many memories and flashbacks back.

And so with no words exchanged, she begins driving aimlessly at first until you tell her the address. Her phone must have automatically connected to her car as the screen lights up and an all too familiar song begins playing softly in the background. ,,Landslide'' by Fleetwood Mac. And even that is enough to send aches towards your heart again. The car ride is silent and part of you can't believe you are back in that place. Back in that same car, the same little air freshener you had purchased for her almost two years ago. It's a Yankee candle one, vanilla as it reminded you of her and a part of you wonders in your tired state, why she had kept it as the smell had long given up, needing replacement.

But then just like by some magical force, fate again gives you the answers to your question as the screen lights up, Wilhemina's number on the screen, her name and the contact photo with you, Cordelia and Wilhemina. You remember that day well, the day after your birthday when Delia bought you a little polaroid camera with some films and how for that entire day you went around the academy, collecting glimpses of your favourite places and people, eventually snapping one of the three of you, despite Wilhemina's protests. And then it dawns on you, she hadn't forgotten about you, she hadn't even moved on to begin with. Her face meets yours, quickly declining the phone call, knowing this would be too much for you, hearing her voice again. She plays it cool, humming along to the song as if nothing happened. As if that call and the evidence of the photo didn't just betray her like that. And confirming her statement when she said things had been hard.

It takes about thirty seconds for the screen to light up again and given that you are still a good ten minutes from your apartment, you simply look at her and mutter ,,You can answer it''. She hesitates at first but knowing Wilhemina's impatience and the fact she had said she would only pop out for about an hour to get some things and it now being late and leaving Wilhemina with the academy and all the witches, she answers. ,,Hi honey'' she speaks softly as if nothing is happening as if their shared ex- you- isn't sitting in her car right now. And for some reason that angers you, realistically what do you expect her to say?

,,Is everything alright?'' her voice finally rings through the speaker. And for some reason that breaks you even more, you had missed Cordelia in every way you could miss a person over the last year but Wilhemina? her safe comforting presence? her sternness and the way she would look out for you? you had missed that equally as much. They said forever back then and you almost bought it, you even miss fighting in your old bedroom, breaking dishes when Mina was disappointed and then it dawns on you- you still love them.

,,Yes I'm fine darling, just taking care of something before heading home'' Delia announces, pulling you away from the heartache and back into the present. And for some reason you just wanna blurt into the speaker, ask Cordelia to take you home- truly your home and not the apartment you had been staying at for the past year as your home was them, the academy with your family. ,,Okay be safe'' her voice rings through the car again before the call disconnects. Neither of you speak, the remainder of the drive deadly silent as all you want to do is collapse on your bed and cry yourself to sleep, unsure whether sleep would even be an option tonight. And at the same time, you never want the drive to end, feeling an odd amount of content being with her again, despite it all.

,,It's just here'' you announce, pointing towards the building and as she stops the car, you sigh before collecting your bag and opening the door. ,,Th- Thank you'' you mutter out before exiting her car, not even looking back anymore before practically running inside, banging your apartment door shut and collapsing onto your bed. Her car remains outside of your building for a while, wanting nothing more than to run after you but she needed to get home, despite home not feeling very much like it without you.

The pain is unbearable as you sob heavily into your pillow, her scent somehow still lingering in the air, her voice and words repeating over and over again in your head. You are still confused and you had been for a year, about what had actually happened and you try very hard to convince yourself that this was better, that you are better without them. But the but's are too loud in your mind right now, reminding you of all the reasons you love them, of all the reasons you should go back to them.

Your relationship with Wilhemina and Cordelia started almost fairytale like, you had known both women from the academy, living there for several years after figuring out something about you had always been a little odd and stumbling over the academy in your mid twenties. You had always known Cordelia as the supreme and headmistress, before eventually Wilhemina joined as the supremes helper and secretary, you believed at first. However, it quickly dawned on you that they shared more than that. And you were almost disappointed then, always thinking you and the blonde had some sort of connection. But quickly you learnt their shared interest towards you, Wilhemina chatting unusual much with you and wanting to learn about things from your life. Cordelia unusually interested in helping you with your witch craft, despite having the hang of it by then.

And then slowly it turned into a little more, their eyes following your every move, their hands often lingering on yours, the pet names, the invitations just to have dinner with them rather than everyone else, the walks in the garden with Cordelia, the evening tea dates by the fireplace with Wilhemina. And so slowly they opened their private and sacred little life to you, welcoming you in it without question, never questioning the age gap, never questioning the fact it's one more person than most people allow in a relationship. The matching piece as if you had always been there. But somewhere along the lines, throughout the months slowly turning into years, something wasn't working. In the end they had changed, Wilhemina often very agitated, always having a sterner and colder side but taking it out on you more, almost becoming a little physical with you as the last argument involved her throwing around some dishes in frustration.

Cordelia had surprisingly changed too, the academy always being a priority to her but in that time, she never left her office, often you and Mina tried to coax her out of it but she wouldn't leave, often just spending the nights in her office, leaving the loneliness with you and Wilhemina and also the arguments. You felt like you invaded their perfect life and after some more arguments and harsh words you decided to leave, not wanting to intrude on them anymore, not wanting to be intimidated by their love they have for each other anymore. You doubted your decision so many times, from being so happy with them, your life perfect and having all you ever wanted, to being continuously sick to your stomach with heartache and misery.

As the pain and memories continue to drown you in it's intensity, the supreme had made her way to the academy, finding a worried Mina, noticing her change of demeanour and how tired her shoulder looked as she finally made it back to their bedroom. ,,Honey?'' the redhead tried and then it equally poured out of the blonde, telling her about the encounter with you, causing you to cry, how much she misses you and how bad she feels for driving you away. Wilhemina watches in pain as Cordelia sobs into her shoulder, the mere mention of you, causing that same pained expression on Wilhemina's face it had for a year. And so in full circle the night comes to an end, taking the three of you back to the only thing you know- your relationship.

As Cordelia awakens the next morning, confusion washes over her features finding the usual occupied spot next to her empty, shuffling a little before she feels a pounding headache, causing her to fall back on her pillow, probably due to the crying the night prior. Meanwhile Wilhemina has been up early, not being able to sleep a wink, the memories of you keeping her awake during the night. And then when the morning sun finally filtered through the bedroom, she had decided to take matters into her own hands. And with now trembling hands, she finds herself outside of your apartment. Despite not being a witch, the redhead had her ways of finding out things, never having been at your new adress before and if Cordelia knew the lengths her girlfriend went through to find you, she would be left crying again, instead of the headache causing her to fall back to sleep.

The knocking slowly brings your consciousness back, away from sleep that eventually came, despite being broken. At first you thought it was a dream but as the knocking continues, you slowly rise from bed, almost stumbling and falling over your own feet, before making it to your door and opening it, your mind still asleep almost. As you suddenly take in the glimpse of her, you feel like dreaming, not having seen her for an entire year. And just like Cordelia, she looked tired, the little bags under her eyes all the evidence and by her posture and grip on her cane, you can tell she was nervous. You don't say anything, simply taking in her features, your mind convinced this was just a dream and some trick your mind was playing on you. But you enjoyed it nevertheless, taking in the outfit plastered in lilac, her brown eyes piercing right through you and her mere presence causing for your heart to ache.

,,Mi-na'' you whisper, not even aware of how long you had been standing there or that your eyes are again pouring with tears. ,,Y/N'' she speaks softly, her hand twitching as all she wants to do is wipe your tears, wipe your pain and take you into her arms. ,,May I speak with you?'' she tries softly and as if you are suddenly awaken, you welcome her inside, very grateful that your place was spotless. As you walk towards your living room, you catch a glimpse of yourself in the little mirror in your hallway, quickly adjusting your hair that was still messy from sleep and angrily wiping your tears. And then as she takes a seat across from you, it suddenly dawns on you this was no dream, the same perfume and sense of lavender lingering in the air. ,,Would you like some water? or tea?'' you ask politely but she is quick to decline with a head shake.

Silence follows and while the redhead internally scolds herself for not thinking this through properly and trying to find the right words for while she is actually there, sitting in your apartment, you are drowned in flashbacks. The painful ones, the last ones with them. It had been some hard weeks, the coven under the careful inspection of the council due to some incidents with some younger witches, Wilhemina in especially bad pains due to her back. They didn't appreciate you at the time, simply acting as if you are another witch at the academy, not realising how much you actually made their lives better. And then one thing led to another and the three of you drifted apart, every day ending up in arguments, fights, the worst one when Wilhemina on an especially bad day lost her temper in a bad way with you, the two of you in the kitchen, you pushing her a little too much about her pains and how maybe she needed to see a doctor. Her really not in the mindset to even think or talk about it and eventually taking her anger out on you and the dishes in the kitchen. And when Cordelia practically ran downstairs, it was too late, tears filled in your vision, that face that they both never forgot. That face when you gave up, all the good memories of meeting them, of belonging with them, replaced with bad ones. And despite their efforts, it all fell down and you slipped their grasp.

,,Cordelia mentioned seeing you yesterday'' she finally speaks as she clears her throat. Bringing you right back into the present, the flashbacks slowly fading from your mind.

And you knew how much how she hated this. How Wilhemina really wasn't one to have these kind of conversations and you can't help but wanting to make it easier for her. ,,Is she okay?'' you question, concern lingering on your features, wondering why Mina showed up so early on your doorstep as you catch a glimpse of the clock on your living room wall.

,,She-'' the redhead hesitates then, averting your gaze and glancing out the window.

,,She- We miss you'' she confesses, her statement taking you by surprise.

,,I miss you too Mina'' you confess, a small but painful smile creeping it's way onto your features.

That was enough for her, the simply nickname causing for her heart to ache, eyes to close as she holds back the pain. ,,I'm sorry'' you whisper, tears swelling up in your eyes again as suddenly a wave of regret washes over you. Regret for leaving, for not trying again, for never going back.

,,Would you come back to the academy with me?'' she suddenly asks, again taking you by surprise. ,,We would like to talk to you'' she carries on, noticing your hesitation at first and wanting to confirm her intentions.

And the redhead is unaware that you would have said yes already, despite unsure what she was implying. After seeing them again, all you want to do is lay in their arms. All you want to do is forget about everything and move on with them but you also know it wasn't that easy. And so in response, you simply stare at her, unable to actually bring any words out as your heart simply aches. Your silence worries the redhead, unsure if she made a mistake coming here, opening the old wounds again. However Wilhemina never let you go like that, she had observed quietly from a distance, keeping in touch with some girls from the academy on how you had been doing, where you had moved and what you had been doing in the past year. Wilhemina was stubborn but the true reason for letting you go was she felt like you deserved better, better than her outbursts, better than either of them too busy or stressed to appreciate you. But after hearing Cordelia's words and seeing your state, she doubts whether that was a good idea and whether maybe just maybe she, they, would be better for you.

And as silence continues, she sits there, unsure whether to just leave you alone, whether to just take you into her arms. Her brown eyes meet yours again as your gaze is focused somewhere on a wall, staring into nothingness. ,,I'm sorry Y/N'' is all she whispers before balancing on her cane and walking towards the door, misreading your silence. And then within seconds the door closes and you let her slip away, not running after her, not begging for her forgiveness, not saying yes and and coming back with her. You simply sit in silence, before darkness consumes you and a mixture of sleep and a breakdown washes over you, drowning you.

By the time you wake up, Wilhemina had long ago made her way back to the academy, of course not mentioning any of this to Cordelia. The redhead had a hard time coping with rejection and she couldn't tell her blonde girlfriend how she had gone to see you, not wanting to get her hopes up. The rest of the day Wilhemina spends in silence, sitting at her desk, staring at the little photo frame of the three of you that you had purchased for her for one of her birthdays and she never took it down, occasionally shoving it into her desk drawer when Cordelia would ask about it a little too many times. And as dawn begins breaking over the city, the sky filled with little stars, you suddenly find yourself outside those very familiar black iron gates and an all too familiar white building.

Somehow you woke from your state and your feet took you straight there, without even changing your clothes, without taking anything with you. You had ran, for hours, aimlessly through the rain, through the city until your heart guided you to where you wanted to be. And so, half drenched and out of breath, you stand in front of the front door, contemplating whether to actually knock, your confidence suddenly knocked from you, similar to the breath knocked from your lungs as you gasp for breaths. What if they are busy? What if they aren't even in? What if they didn't want to see you? However your thoughts are drawn out, when Cordelia noticed a presence by the door, just having finished cleaning the kitchen after dinner and her supreme senses alerting her of a presence.

Without a care in the world, she opens the door, exposing you there, your eyes staring at her as you still struggle to catch your breath, your hair and clothes dripping from the pouring rain. ,,Y/N?'' she almost gasps, expecting anyone but you. She had longed for this so long, for you to finally come back to them, after the countless attempts of her calling, texting you, even trying to find your location through her magic within the past year, eventually giving up, thinking they had driven you away. ,,Are you okay sweetheart?'' she questions, her head tiling to the side a little, as she frowns at your state.

,,May I come in?'' you begin, finally having the ability to breathe properly again. ,,That's if- um- you aren't busy'' you ramble on before your own anxiety betrays you ,,I guess- you know- I can come back another time'' you hastily stumble over your words, heart beating loudly against your chest as you think over your decision of coming here. As if your heart had somehow led you there and only now your brain kicking in and telling you this was a mistake and to run.

,,No- please sweetheart, come on in'' she invites, with a gentle warm smile, making all the worries melt away.

And so you step inside, following her as she leads you through the white hallway, past the kitchen and dining room, reminding you of all the times you had cooked together, all the times you had shared meals together. Past the living room, where you catch a glimpse of the sofa and fireplace, your safe space where the three of you spent many evenings and weekends together, in the comfortable embrace of each other. Eventually, she leads you up the stairs, halting in front of Wilhemina's office before she turns back to you.

,,Did you come here to see us? or did you want to talk to me?'' she tries, still thinking Wilhemina and you hadn't seen each other since the year before and worrying what your reaction would be like seeing each other.

,,Both of you'' you quickly explain, a little confused as to why Wilhemina wouldn't have mentioned seeing you this morning. She nods, before gently knocking on the redheads office door, waiting for a faint reply.

,,Come in'' she announces and you stand awkwardly behind Cordelia as she opens the door.

,,Darling, Y/N is here to see us'' she explains, scanning the redheads features, unsure how Wilhemina would react. But to her surprise, Wilhemina's features soften, almost relief painting her face as she sees the frame of you behind the supreme.

Cordelia steps aside, allowing you to enter and so you enter, standing a little awkwardly in her office as a shiver runs down your spine. As soon as Wilhemina's eyes fall on you, you feel embarassed. Your cheeks coated in red, standing there soaked and still a little out of breath.

,,Please, take a seat sweetheart'' Cordelia invites you, pointing towards one of the chairs, opposite the redhead and you comply, grateful to get a chance to sit after wandering through the city aimlessly for hours.

Cordelia notices your shivering form and without a word, she walks to a corner before reaching for a blanket and handing it to you. Your eyes meet hers and you take it with shaky hands, averting your gaze as you wrap it around yourself. ,,How do you two feel about some tea?'' she asks and Wilhemina simply nods gratefully, you simply agreeing as well as the supreme leaves you both for a minute.

The room fills with silence as every corner of this house feels it's haunted, every piece of furniture, every room reminding you of your time at the academy, reminding you of your time with your former girlfriends and the memories you had made with them. And when Wilhemina clears her throat, you suddenly shiver in your chair, pulled back into the present. ,,I- I'm sorry to just show up like this'' you apologise, finding the courage to meet the redheads gaze on you.

,,Nonsense Y/N, you are always welcome here- this is your home'' she suddenly blurts out, her own confusion written over her features as if some invisible force took over and made her say the words, lingering on her mind.

Her statement both surprises you and shoots a pang of guilt straight towards your heart. Silence follows as you glance around her office, noticing that not a lot had changed, other than some new plants, that you assume Cordelia had gotten for her. And when your eyes linger on her desk, you recognise the picture frame, wondering whether the same picture was still in it or whether she had replaced it with one of just her and Cordelia. Thinking of the blonde, she enters the room with a little tray, pot of tea and three cups placed neatly on it. With a smile she begins pouring the three of you and handing you a warm mug, the steam forming patterns as you wrap your hands around it, soaking in the warmth.

After she takes a seat next to you, you somehow feel obligated to speak, explain what you are doing here but your words leave you as you struggle to explain. Cordelia ever perceptive, notices the way neither you or her girlfriend share that same painful first meeting after the breakup experience and she can't help but wonder when the two of you had met again, before it suddenly dawns on her, how Wilhemina had been gone this morning, mysteriously showing up again some time later and hiding in her office all day, not even showing up for dinner with the girls, despite the supreme's best efforts. And when the realisation hits of how Wilhemina had reached out to see you, after breaking down in her arms the night before, it almost brings tears to her eyes.

Cordelia and Wilhemina's eyes meet as they take in your quiet form, your eyes focused on the cup of tea, the two of them deciding without words who would speak first, knowing this must be hard on you and the redheads eyes practically begging the blonde to do this part. And with a nod, the supreme begins to speak ,,I'm- We are so glad you are here'' she reassures as she meets your gaze, your eyes locking with her brown ones. A small smile creeps its way onto your features, slowly giving you the confidence to speak.

,,I'm honestly not sure what I'm doing here'' you admit with a nervous chuckle before glancing at Wilhemina. ,,But after seeing you both again, I just ended up here somehow'' you admit.

,,I'm sorry for the way things went this morning'' you apologise to Wilhemina and then she meets her girlfriends gaze, silently apologising for not filling her in on the events but she is met with nothing but understanding from the blonde.

,,I shouldn't have come by unannounced like that'' the redhead admits, slowly taking a sip from her cup, before gently placing it on her desk. ,,I'm sorry little one'' she adds quietly.

And that's enough, enough to make you falter, pour your heart out in front of them, as the words pour from your mouth, tears equally pouring down your cheeks.

,,I haven't been able to think about anything else other than you two in this past year, I'm sorry for leaving, I'm sorry for not coming back home and I miss you both so much, I'm sorry'' you apologise over and over again.

Their hearts equally break at your statement, Cordelia having missed her little sunshine so much, Wilhemina having missed her little one equally as much, if not even more over the past year.

,,Everything I know brings me back to us, Everywhere I go it leads me back to you'' you admit, almost guiltily as you try and wipe your tears, despite them keep pouring.

,,Sweetheart'' Cordelia finally speaks ,,We have missed you so much'' she explains, Wilhemina's serious expression confirming the blondes statement, making it all the more believable.

And then her hands find yours as she gently places your cup on the desk, taking both of your hands into her own. ,,I owe you an apology'' she begins, tears already lingering in her brown orbs. ,,I didn't make enough time for you.. both'' she admits, glancing at Wilhemina as well.

,,I should have never let the academy get between us three'' she finishes, tears now flowing down her cheeks and for some reason you feel the urge to wipe them away but something holds you back.

,,I- I should have reached out to you more, tried to get you to come back to us but at the time I thought it was for the best but in these last few months I have missed you so much. This is your home, you belong here'' she explains, squeezing your hands a little tighter to underline the honesty in her statement.

Wilhemina watches in silence, waiting for Cordelia to finish her apology. She takes a deep breath, her hand gripping tighter around her cane before she speaks ,,I'm sorry too little one''. And that's all she can say for the time being, but you know it came from her heart as those words must have already taken a lot. And so in silence, the three of you sit, the only sound to be heard the silence of the academy and occassional shuffling from some witches downstairs. And with their questioning gazes, you know the question lingering on their minds, but somehow a sense of doubt washes over you, filled with some anxiety. Right now, you can't imagine simply going back to how things were and a part of you doubts that could ever happen again, you worry about your dynamics and how it might have changed even between them in the past year.

,,I don't know what you want sweetheart, but we will always be right here for you'' she reassures and with that statement she makes you doubt again, whether to just falter, forget about the past and move on with them.

And then some invisible force takes over again as exhaustion from the past two days suddenly hit you, causing you to go incredibly quiet and with knowing glances the two of them remember quite well what you are like, whenever you are tired. ,,Are you tired sweetie?'' Cordelia tries and you try and snap yourself out of the sleepiness, blinking some of it away, causing their heart to swell up with love as they see you so tired and adorable. ,,Um yeah'' you shily admit, before Cordelia gives you a little smile.

,,Why don't you stay the night?'' she offers but your heart instantly sinks at her offer. ,,Your old room is still free'' she admits and it swells your heart when you hear they kept it for all these years, despite eventually sharing Cordelia's bedroom with them. And in the blink of an eye, the blonde takes you to your old room, leaving you some warm and dry clothes on the bed, before bringing you some water and leaving you to rest. And after changing, you finally collapse on your bed, unable to think much more about the past or current events and sleep knocks you out gently, guiding you towards dreams softly.

After a while, the two of them settle into bed as well, Cordelia glancing at her girlfriend before whispering ,,What do you think?'' her own anxiety betraying her a little bit. ,,I'm just glad our little one is home where she belongs'' the redhead replies, before pressing a kiss to the supremes forehead and sleep equally greeting them.

It's the middle of the night when you finally wake up from sleep, confused at first at the familiar but unfamiliar surroundings at the same time. Slowly memories from the previous night fill your mind and after blinking the sleep away, you sit up in bed, wrapping the blanket a little closer around you as you notice the change of clothes and Cordelia's soft smell lingering on the clothes she had given you. Glancing around your old bedroom, you notice how empty it was, considering you took all of your belongings to their bedroom in the end, however you notice a stack of something on the desk in the corner and your curiosity gets a hold of you. With slow and gentle steps you walk towards it, the little lamp in the corner that Cordelia had kept on for you, providing you with some light. On the desk you find a stack of letters, neatly wrapped in a purple ribbon and you can't help but take a seat and slowly remove the ribbon before opening some letters.

And with the first one your eyes are already lingering with tears, recognising Wilhemina's handwriting.

,,Dear little one,

Today it's Christmas, our first one without you. As you probably know, I'm not big on these things but seeing Cordelia so sad today, made me miss you even more. I hope that wherever you are, you are happier now, celebrating Christmas with people that love and cherish you. Who are grateful for all the little things you do, who love the little things about you. Your adorable smile, how shy you can be at times but realising how big your heart truly is. It pained me, not being able to see your face light up today when everyone unwrapped their presents, missing how truly grateful you are for whatever you are given. It's almost been a year and not a day goes by where I don't miss you, where Cordelia doesn't cry, where I hate myself for driving you away. I miss you little one, I'm sorry.

Mina''

And with each letter, each confession, tears pour from your eyes, eventually turning into sobs, despite trying to contain them. You knew Wilhemina was never big on words but seeing her emotions so raw and honest touches you deeply. And suddenly you feel the urge to run to them, to hug them, to apologise and to love them again. You already loved them of course, you had never stopped but you needed to tell them, needed to forget about everything that happened and simply move on with them. And this time, nothing holds you back as you make your way past the hallway, not caring about the time as you find yourself outside of their bedroom. And again fate decides to help you out, as both of them had woken a while ago, Cordelia laying in silence as thoughts fill her mind, trying to figure out what to do and how to fix this, Wilhemina equally awake, finding it strange to have you so close, yet so far away. And they both heard shuffling, your door opening and slow but hushed steps walking towards their door before stopping.

At first Cordelia had thought, it may be one of the girls simply going to the bathroom but seeing a little shadow from underneath the door, she is quickly up on her feet, ready to investigate. Wilhemina equally behind her as she suddenly felt the urge to check on you. And so as the door opens, it all comes full circle, the light from the hallway exposing your crying form, a look filled with guilt, longing on your features. ,,Little one are you okay?'' Wilhemina questions quietly, standing behind the supreme but you don't say anything, simply lunging forward and taking the blonde into your arms, holding onto her for dear life as if she was going to slip away again at any moment. Wilhemina watches in silence as the two of you basically collapse into each other's arms, crying into each other and healing. But you feel the urge to pull away, standing in front of Wilhemina with tears in your eyes, your gaze meeting hers.

,,Mina I-'' you try but she is quick to shush you ,,Come here'' she ushers and you quickly comply, holding onto the redhead. And as the night continues, the three of you eventually find yourself truly where you belong, in their bed, you sitting in the middle, both of them next to you while you hold onto each other. Slowly admitting everything to each other, apologising and confessing all the mistakes and your love for each other.

,,We love you little one'' Wilhemina confesses as her lips slowly draw towards yours and capture you in a kiss. And as her lips softly land on your own, you taste tears, but not just your own, for one of the rare times, the redhead sharing her emotions, grateful to have you back with them. ,,We won't ever let you slip away again sweetie, I promise'' Cordelia reassures after the two of you pull away, needing oxygen, as she snuggles into your side. And eventually, everything goes back to normal, the three of you laying in each other's arms. And despite the future unknown a little, a lot of conversation still needing to be held, for now you all know that you have missed each other and you are sorry.

#sarah paulson #cordelia goode #wilhemina venable #ahs #american horror story #sarah paulson x reader #cordelia goode x reader #ahs coven #wilhemina venable x reader

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xoxo-ren-xoxo · 5 months ago

Text

A Popstar Grian AU - Ari AU (Part One)

Or, @angeart and I put Grian through a lot of pain for no good reason.

Hello! Like two people showed interest in my post about Ari AU, thus here we are. This is not really a 'fic', but it isn't a short summary either. Let your mind go wild. Let your imagination be free. Read my words, boy.

This is Part One. Part Two is here. Part Three is here. Part Four is here. Part Five is here. The tag for this is #ari au.

But before we start, some introductory things you should know.

This is scarian. Don't read if you do not like scarian.

Grian uses he/she pronouns and is transfem genderqueer, I tend to default to she as it helps differentiate her from other characters a lot, but I mix it up.

I somewhat based this AU on attitudes towards celebrities / stars from the 2000s - present day, so this can be read as a period piece in some ways... This concept started with the song 'The Fear' by Lily Allen. I recommend giving it a listen.

This is the "real world", so no hybrids, no respawn, no "code", etc.

CONTENT WARNINGS for this Part: stalking, physical assault, attempted sexual assault, drugging, mentions of vomit, hospitals, me autismposting about music genres.

You can always stop reading! The AU starts out pretty tame and gradually gets, well, worse. But I promise it has a hopeful ending! Eventually!

(also please ask me questions, send ideas, reblog, comment, etc. because I love this AU a lot) (and thank you to Ange for enabling me and adding amazing scenes to this au)

Album One: ‘Sunshine Sedative’

Grian, better known by her stage name ‘Ari’, is a popular singer-songwriter embarking on a world tour to promote her latest album, Sunshine Sedative. The album is indie pop-y and bright, exploring themes of romance, self-empowerment, and subtle references to gender and sexuality. Grian’s style on-stage is hyper-feminine, flashy, and fashionable. He’s known to be a bit prickly, demanding, and stubborn off-stage, slow to warm up to the people around him.

The tour bus carries both Grian and her key crew. Pearl (marketing, PR and organisational work), Impulse (costumes and tech), and Mumbo (tech assistant and main contact for Grian’s manager). Though Grian likes to self-manage, preferring to do her own make-up and plan the set-lists for her own shows.

Recently, Grian has been running into some issues with stalker fans and online haters, receiving some threatening messages on social media. Mumbo tries not to let him doomscroll on his phone too much, even going so far as to confiscate the phone while on tour. This is Grian’s biggest tour- no one was prepared for her to become a star or “indie darling” type- and the fans are… a bit crazy.

After the anonymous threats, Grian agrees to get a bodyguard. This is where Scar comes in. At first, Scar is a little terrified. The company he works for advised him not to annoy or upset Grian, and to always call her Miss Ari. Never disagree with her or do anything he isn’t contracted to do.

Scar throws all of this out of the window pretty fast. Yes, Grian is especially difficult when they first meet, but Scar can tell it’s because Grian is stressed. About the tour, about the fame, about the threats.

A show results in Grian getting a sore throat, and Scar offers her some tea with honey, rambling on about how his mother used to make it for him when he was sick. Grian begrudgingly takes the tea, and tells Scar to just call her Grian from then on. She’s not a fan of the blurring of her private and public life.

Eventually, Grian gets bored enough to rant to Scar about how Mumbo won’t let him use his phone anymore, and Scar offers to sneak it back to him. They have a laugh scrolling through celebrity news and playing silly games together. Then they get found out and both get a stern talking to from Mumbo and Impulse. (Pearl laughs at them in the background).

As Grian’s tour starts selling out, more tour dates are added, extending their time on the road. Scar continues to sneak Grian’s phone to her, pushing her to have fun rather than scroll through hate messages. It seems like a peak moment for Grian, delighted by the idea that she has so many fans, and beginning to develop a bit of a crush on Scar. Grian even starts acting a little nicer.

Tabloids and Stalkers

The fame comes with more caveats than Grian anticipated. One day, while Scar and Grian are reading some dumb article on Grian’s phone, she receives a random message from a burner account. It’s a picture of Grian, through a hotel window, half dressed. Grian recognises the hotel, one they stayed in a few nights ago just to get away from the tour bus.

Someone knew she would be there. Knew what room she would be staying in. There is a vaguely ominous / threatening message attached. It makes Grian never want to step foot outside again. It makes her feel sick. Suddenly she can’t focus on anything around her.

He has a panic attack.

Later, as Grian is pacing the floor of the bus, he’s told not to make an announcement about the stalker. She decides herself not to go to the police, and, after some hesitation, not to cancel the tour. They can’t disappoint all those people.

Over the next few shows, Grian gets closer to Scar. Both because they get along so well, and because Scar is there to protect her. He's clumsy and funny and once he starts talking about something he likes, it’s hard to get him to stop. Grian finds him incredibly endearing and, more importantly, incredibly safe.

But things are bad. Grian can’t even go to a public bathroom without Scar checking to make sure no one is waiting for her. He feels constantly watched, constantly on-edge, constantly afraid. The paparazzi don’t exactly make it easier.

Tabloids love Ari. She’s a superstar, a real diamond in the rough who came from nothing. They’re obsessed. Anything she does in public can make a tabloid front page. As the tour goes on and her songs rocket up the charts, it only gets worse. The flashes of the cameras have started to scare him.

Scar is an angel, dealing with the paparazzi professionally and confidently. He stands in front of Grian and chases the cameras off. But it feels like they can’t go anywhere. They can’t do anything. Even when they stop at another hotel, Grian can’t tell if the people outside are stalkers or journalists.

The pictures on the tabloid front pages are no longer stunning shots from the shows, but rather blurry snaps of Grian trying to escape the cameras. Images of Grian, wide-eyed and scared by the surprise of a camera flash, before she could put on a fake smile. Grian, through a window in the parked tour bus, with teary eyes. Even private moments are no longer private.

Media outlets start to pay for more intimate photos- anything the journalists might get fired for trying to snap themselves. It gives the stalkers (there are certainly multiple, now) more incentive. Grian keeps the curtains closed in every building he visits, and draws the tiny blinds on the bus.

Relationship Goals?

In the meantime, Grian’s crush on Scar is getting more obvious, but she’s afraid to say anything. Dragging Scar into this, with all the harassment he would face if they revealed they were together, isn’t what Grian wants. She flinches away when Scar offers a comforting touch, not wanting to risk a photograph.

Scar is the one, then, who takes the initiative. He sits with Grian on her little fold-out bed at the back of the tour bus, all curtains drawn and the door closed. He holds her close and tells her firmly that no one is going to see them here. They're traveling at 50mph on a motorway and no one can even see through the windows anyway. And that's maybe just enough for Grian to let himself lean into Scars touch. Admit his feelings.

There’s a sense of shame he's carrying with them. He shouldn't have fallen for his bodyguard- someone who has to stay with him, contractually. She tries to say as much, going on and on about all the terrible risks Scar is bringing to himself by dating her, but Scar cuts Grian off by kissing her, anyway.

As soon as the media gets a hint of the relationship, things seem to go downhill. Diehard fans don’t react kindly to Grian’s choice of man, especially the ones who want to have her for themselves. Someone throws something at Scar when Grian is leaving a show, hitting him on the head. It isn’t a bad injury, but it bleeds a lot, and Grian only feels worse about it when Scar insists he’s okay.

Actual Bodily Harm

The fans seem to get more… intense. Stalking and threats of harm increase, while the fans' behaviour at shows seems to get worse. As the tour is nearing its final few weeks, people start to throw things onto the stage. The first time it happens, Grian cuts the set short without anyone really noticing. The next time, someone throws a glass bottle, and she walks off.

He tries not to make a big fuss about it, simply leaving without playing a single song. She feels awful, of course, for leaving the normal fans without a show. Perhaps they should refund the tickets, or something. She doesn’t even notice the glass shards in her foot until Scar points them out, horrified.

Pearl convinces Grian to take a picture of the injury and make a PSA post on social media. Even when the adrenaline wears off, Grian’s resulting breakdown seems subdued.

No one throws anything at the next few shows, except for a trans pride flag. Grian wears it as a cape, and feels amazing, for once, hearing the cheers and screams of joy at the gesture. She loves that she can be a symbol of hope and love for so many people. It’s even enough of a boost to get him acting more like himself again in private: mischievous, bright, and creative.

It is near the end of the tour when things go completely, utterly wrong again. Grian and the crew all go to a bar after a show, to celebrate the last week of the tour. Three more shows, and then it’s over. Grian is in somewhat normal clothes, compared to his usual getup, but still puts on his persona just in case they've been followed by the paparazzi (again).

Everyone's having a nice time, drinking a little and hanging out. As always, it is nice to be getting away from the bus. Pearl and Impulse buy far too many shots, much to Mumbo’s dismay. Grian laughs and jokes and raises her voice, not caring if she’s croaky the next day.

He doesn't notice someone watching him from across the room. Doesn't notice them slip something into her drink when she goes up to the bar. She pays for another pint, and they strike up conversation. Giddily, she chats with them, rambling about how good life has suddenly become. As he sips his drink, he doesn’t register how focused on him they are. How their dark eyes don’t leave him once.

It’s fine, until she stumbles, on the way back to the booth everyone's sitting at, and the stranger catches her before she can fall with strong arms. They're talking, but Grian isn't really listening. She’s nodding along and mumbling about needing to get back to the booth. Back to her friends.

It feels wrong. They keep hold of her shoulders. They're saying something about getting her home safe. Something about how they've been waiting for this…

He realises what’s happening far too late. Panic clutches her chest for a split second. Long enough for him to call out for Scar. She's already being manhandled out of the door before Scar comes to her rescue. Thankfully, by a miracle, close enough to hear the cry for help.

Grian knows something happens to the stranger, because they're on the floor and bleeding. Voices buzz, muffled, around Grian. There are more hands on her. She doesn’t like it. Her head hurts. Scar’s hand is bloody as he hugs her. Grian passes out.

Hospital Visit One

The crew, quite obviously, take Grian to the hospital. He was drugged, and it’s clear what the perpetrator wanted to do. It shakes them all, left wondering whether the creep knew who Grian was, or just randomly targeted a drunk stranger on a night out. Either way, none of them want to go near a bar any time soon.

On the way to the hospital, the press capture pictures of Grian unconscious, or half-awake with no awareness, and by the time the morning rolls in, the papers are already speculating about addiction and ‘gone wild’ narratives. When Grian wakes up, still slightly delirious, he's told, hesitantly, by Pearl, that they have to release a statement soon in order to clear his name and control the narrative. Grian can’t find it in herself to cry about what happened.

Before any statements are made, the police come to talk to Grian. They arrested the perpetrator and searched their house, not that it’ll result in much. They show Grian pictures of rope, duct tape, knives, and a poster from her tour.

Feeling numb, Grian takes a moment to go throw up in a bin, then tells her team she wants to make a statement now. She wants it recorded, as she is, now. Pearl and Mumbo try to argue that it really isn't a good idea, without a script and looking… bad, but Scar and Impulse back Grian’s choice. Reluctantly, Mumbo grabs one of the nice cameras from his car- the bus was far too conspicuous to park at a hospital- and they record.

They don't know what Grian’s going to say, but, put basically, the video explains everything that has happened- from the stalkers to the glass to the drugging- and apologises to the fans who did nothing wrong. And even the fans who just wanted to know some gossip, because they weren't really to blame. Then she announces that she's cancelling the rest of the tour.

Mumbo shuts off the camera. Everyone apart from Scar is a bit shocked. Incredulous. Shouldn’t they talk about this? Is it worth it to cancel at the last hurdle? Scar cuts off the protests, pointing out how insensitive it is to try and make Grian perform after everything. Grian stays quiet as Scar somewhat lectures the others. It’s a rambling mess of an argument, but it works. They apologise.

The statement video is posted online, and Grian is left to rest. Scar remains at his side.

Once Grian is checked over and discharged, they get back to the bus fast. She retreats to her closed-off space at the back of the bus, telling everyone to get on with their jobs. Once she's alone, she replays the images the police showed her in her mind. He thinks about what could have happened. He thinks about the stranger's hands on his shoulders and at his hips. She remembers that she started out just wanting to make music, and she cries.

#ben chats shit on the internet #ari au #grian #scarian #gtws #gtwscar #goodtimeswithscar #hermitcraft #hermitblr #hermitshipping #im not gonna tag all the warnings just please be smart about this.#long post #im insane. please reblog </3

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