#what can i say? I really really really love music

[drgnflyteabox]

daddy cool ⋆˙⟡

john price x fem!reader summary: “I’m a producer,” he says, taking a long puff of his cigar, waiting, waiting, “and I scout talent.” ↪or the one in which hairy muscle daddy john price asks you to show him your skills disco style tags/warnings: 70s clubbing, body hair is a central theme, scent kink, daddy kink, deepthroating, rough oral (m), cigars, some alcohol, manipulation if you squint,vaginal fingering + sex, a bit of exhibition kink but not really at all (one line), 'little' not used as a size indicator, dom/sub, oral (f), tiny gape mention

“I think he’s interested in you,” Debbie whisper-screams in your ear. It’s hard to hear her over the boom of the drums, over the four on the floor beat and soaring voices. 

“Really?”

“Girl,” she laughs, incredulous. You look over your shoulder and sure enough he’s fixing you with a stare hot enough to burn through steel.

He’s flanked by two others, but you hardly notice them. You’re staring right into the deep V of his open shirt, at the fur peeking out of it, at the pink of his tongue as it swipes his bottom lip under his mustache. Sinful.

The booth he’s sitting in is draped with orange translucent curtains, creating some illusion of privacy. No overhead lights, either, just a soft cave and dark burgundy leather. Perfect for a bear like him.

“Should I go over there?” you whisper-scream back, curling closer to Debbie, “he’s a bonafide stud.”

She laughs, throwing her long hair over her shoulder, “yeah he is, and he’s looking at you, girl.”

You peek again. He’s smiling this time, like someone who knew you’d look twice. Beyond his shirt, his pants are so goddamn tight you can see almost everything. Christ, who let him out of the house looking like that?

“I’m gonna go over,” you say before you can stop yourself.

A saxophone disco beat booms through the club, thrumming right through you down to your toes, which you move to dance your way to him. Debbie laughs behind you, disappearing into the crowd.

Your hips go side to side, your teeth bite your bottom lip, and you fix him with what you hope is a clear message; you’re hot.

He stays exactly where he is. There’s a smugness about him now, the same smugness you saw when you looked twice.

You can’t really blame him for it. Someone that looks like that is bound to expect attention, desire.

God, he’s just your type. A quiet kind of arrogance, one arm slung over the back of the booth as he lifts a cigar up to his mouth and puffs. Lazily, like a big lion that knows he doesn’t have to hunt to get his food.

“Hello, love,” he says slowly when you get close enough. You’re still bouncing to the music, but you lean forward to hear him better.

“Interested in me, are you?” you’re going for a coy, simpering kind of approach. Something about him makes you want to lay it on thick, want to seduce. To preen a little.

His knuckles are dark in the lighting, hairy and tough like he works with his hands, which you catch as he pats the booth beside him. 

You hadn’t even noticed his companions leaving.

“Saw you dancing,” he lifts a glass from the table, dark liquid, his mustache getting wet, “thought you might be interested, too.”

“You thought right,” you slide in beside him, the leather seat cool even through your tight bootcut pants. You tilt your knees towards him, lifting an elbow to match his on the back of the booth.

Reds, yellows, oranges dance on his skin. The occasional sparkle of the disco ball peeks through, but mostly it filters through the orange booth curtains and spreads into an archipelago of little bright spots. This lighting agrees with him, accentuates the best parts, makes them look darker and more defined. You’d feel like a pervert looking down his shirt if he wasn’t also doing the same to you.

“Name’s John, love,” and when you tell him yours he says, “that’s fitting.”

“So, what do you do?” boring, typical– but it’s all you’ve got. You’re surprised you can get words out at all with the drool pooling in your mouth. This close, you can see how his shirt strains where his shoulders move. A little too small, but it’s probably on purpose.

Should be illegal, honestly.

His eyes crinkle in the corners. He’s the kind of guy whose entire face changes when he smiles, who looks disarmingly more approachable that way.

“I’m a producer,” he says, taking a long puff of his cigar, waiting, waiting, “and I scout talent.”

“Talent?” you cross one leg over the other, trilling internally with satisfaction when you see his eyes fall to your thighs.

You know you aren’t being subtle in the least– and you aren’t trying to be. But you won’t say anything outright, not yet, not while the anticipation feels this tasty.

The booth isn’t private, but it is insulated. The music is loud, but not too loud, just enough that it thrums through you, that you can hear him. Anita Ward croons in your ear, encouraging you. He can ring your bell, that’s for sure.

“That’s right,” he puffs again. The smell makes you lightheaded.

“Moviestars, you mean?” you roll your ankle around, watching him watch you, wondering if he likes the polish colour you picked. 

You like that he’s visibly affected; licking his lips, that meaty hand climbing higher up his thigh.

“Something like that, love,” he smiles again, leans back in the booth and launches a counter attack to your leggy flirtations – he spreads those legs, feet pointed out, hunched just so that his belly starts poking out of those sinfully tight pants.

Motherfucker.

Looking back up at him, his eyes are crinkled at you, head tilted forward. He knows exactly what he’s doing.

“Which movies have you produced?” you lean your head on your hand, looking at him through your lashes, “anything I’ve seen?”

“I hope so,” he hums. His eyes flit down to your feet again, up to your midriff, then back to your eyes– it’s hot, but it’s also not just a flirtation. He’s assessing, “have you seen Swan Lady? The Nun and the Two Vikings?”

You frown, “no, I haven’t heard of either.”

“How about Call of Duty: Servicing the Captain?”

Ah, it clicks. Your eyebrows go up, into your hairline, “you make pornos?”

“Aye, smart girl,” he gruffs.

Pornos, huh. You could laugh– he looks the part. A little sleazy, unabashed. Masculine not to the point of parody but it’s close. The ‘stache is in style, but in combination with everything else is just the cherry on top.

You only have one question, “you don’t star in any?”

“I prefer working behind the scenes,” something about the way he says behind feels filthy.

John tells all. He does scout, finds girls who want to have a good time (like you), and gently (or so he says) nudges them in front of the camera. I can always sniff ‘em out, he says. The ones that’ll do well on film, that have star quality.

“How can you tell?” you ask, lips pulling on your straw. John has ordered you a tequila sunrise.

You can’t help but trace the skin of his neck with your eyes, roving at the bob of his Adam's apple as he explains. Girls who can take the gloves off, so to speak. Says he can tell by the way they move, how free they are with their bodies.

A little dubious, but it’s honestly doing it for you. You wonder what he saw when you danced up to him, if the sway of your body was free, liberated.

Doesn’t take long at all for him to invite you out either way. John puts his hand on your knee and squeezes, gets real close, gruffs that his place is nearby.

“What do you say, sweetheart?” and of course the only answer is yes, please.

Boney M. soars around you as you follow him out, your hand holding his, your fingers stroking the hairs on his knuckles. 

She’s crazy for her daddy!

On the drive over, he keeps that big paw on your thigh, squeezing almost subconsciously. Just the flex of his fingers.

You widen your knees, hoping for that rough palm to slide upwards, glancing at John as he drives one-handed. Not your first rodeo going home with a man from the disco, but it sure is the first time you’ve felt so keyed up about it.

He’s huge, takes up an absurd amount of room in the car, knee knocking into yours. He even drives sexy, so sure and in control.

“You think I could be in one of your movies?” you say, impish, looking to provoke.

John glances at you for just a second too long, too intense. You can tell he’s picturing you in front of the cameras.

“That what you want?”

“Just picturing it,” you simper, shifting your knee to deliberately touch him again. His fingers flex against your thigh again, jaw moving.

The air is warm, breezy, lights passing by like twinkling firebugs. You roll your window down, smiling at the feeling.

“Oh you're picturing it, are you? Is that making you wet, sweetheart?”

Fuck. It certainly is now.

“Only if you can be my co-star.”

“Is that right?” he laughs, low and deep. His hand climbs higher, “‘fraid I’m just the recruiter, but I’ll have to do a quality test.”

“Quality test?”

“Mm,” he hums, “need to make sure you’re ready for the camera, don’t I? You think you’ve got star quality, then prove it.”

Your panties are sticky.

“I can do that,” you breathe.

“Yeah? Can you prove you can show off your star quality for me, sweetheart?” his fingers slide, achingly slow, to the gusset of your pants, “that you can look into that camera and show the world you’re a good girl?”

They press against you, right up against your clit through the fabric. You fight to stay still, to not come across like you’re desperate, but god it’s hard. You ache.

“Mhm,” you breathe, subtly tilting your hips forward as he idly pets your pussy.

“Not an answer,” he says firmly. Butterflies dance in your stomach, the air slowly being siphoned out, leaving you hot and bothered. John is barely affected, it seems, driving still, gliding through the night.

“Sorry,” you swallow, “I can do that, daddy.”

“Much better.”

“Still want to prove it to me, love?” he moves to a glass cabinet, pulling out a little box. It opens with a click, revealing a neat row of thick cigars.

“Yes,” you stand in the middle of his living room, appreciating the atmosphere he’s made; low lighting, oranges, reds everywhere. Brown leather and the heady smell of cigar smoke, of leather polish and an incense-y kind of musk.

He walks back towards you, brand new cigar between his fingers, steps heavy on the carpet. You’re made aware of the height difference when he stands right in front of you, looking down not unkindly.

Your skin prickles at his gaze, the same one from the club; that assessment. Like he’s measuring you, testing you, scanning you.

John leans forward, breath puffing lightly across your face. He smells like his house does, only there’s a bit of whiskey mixed in.

You can’t help but squirm just a little, thighs rubbing together, both to relieve the pulsing ache of your pussy and that it’s impossible to stay composed under that gaze.

“Drop down,” he says finally, “to your knees, sweetheart.”

From your knees, you get a good fucking look at those tight pants– at the bulge in them. The hair on his chest sticks out a little, too, peeking at you from above. Hot. So hot.

“Comfortable?”

“Yes, daddy,” you bite your lip again.

“Keep those hands down, alright?” he leans to the side and picks up a cigar lighter, watching you as he lights up.

John stands over you, new cigar lit, plumes of smoke drifting from his fingers. His expression is neutral, though he hums in a pleased way as he strokes the softness of your cheek.

“Take me out,” he commands.

You lean forward with your mouth, unable to resist giving him a good long sniff before you pull at his zipper with your teeth. He smells good, musky and strong, a little cologne there but mostly it’s natural.

When your teeth gently take his briefs, pulling, he cups the back of your head with a big hand and strokes your hair.

“Are you going to take it all, sweetheart? Right down your throat?”

You let his cock flop out of his underwear, heavy. The bush surrounding it makes your mouth water. It looks so good, long and a little curved, bouncing as if it’s teasing you.

You nod finally, hands squeezed into fists in your lap just the way he asked, “yes, daddy.”

“That’s my girl. Are you going to give daddy’s cock a little kiss first?”

You lean forward, lips pursed, planting a little kiss on the mushroom head of his cock. Though you ache to lick your lips, to taste him, you wait.

“That’s a good little girl,” he murmurs, “open your mouth.”

You do, holding your tongue out.

He grips the base, holding his cock up, tapping your tongue with the head. You almost whine, before he grips your head firmer and holds you still so he can slide the entire length of that monster right to the back of your throat.

Your nose hits his pubic bone, buried in the coarse hairs there, overwhelmed, hands balling into fists.

“That’s right,” he grunts, “hold it right there, sweetheart, show me you’ve got what it takes.”

God, he’s all the way in, a perfect fit. You try to stay still, anchoring yourself to him, to his palm, to the possibility of hearing good girl.

You gag a little, coughing around him, tears burning at your eyes as drool plip plops onto your chest.

Finally, he pulls out, stroking your hair, “good girl, such a good girl. Ready?”

“Yes,” you garble around the heady of his cock, clit swollen and needy, hands pressing hard into your thighs, “please fuck my face, daddy.”

He does, his pistoning, fucking your mouth like it’s a cunt. His hand cradles the back of your head, pushing you, hips moving, grunting when he’s not taking the occasional puff of his cigar.

You throb in your panties, body scorching hot, gagging every so often around the thick meat of John’s cock. Drool falls in viscous strings, tears following, the world dropping away. 

Nothing else but the slide of his cock in and out of your mouth exists, matters.

“That’s it, that’s it,” he pants raggedly.

You have no idea how long he lasts, only that when he’s finished you're an absolute mess. Wet faced and panting.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, wiping the tears from your cheeks with his rough thumbs. You look up at him through your clumped lashes, mouth open, “did so well for me, hm?”

“Thank you, daddy,” your voice is a little gravelly, but not painful.

John pulls you up with a hand at your bicep, walking you down a hallway off his living room and towards an open door. 

It’s his bedroom– and it’s decorated exactly as you’d imagined it.

The bed is huge, kingsized with a radio inlay and a thick, padded headboard that extends all around the mattress in a kind of cradle. His sheets are silk, dark, and dark orange.

“Nice digs,” you laugh, “you sure you aren’t a pornstar?”

He laughs behind you, setting his lit cigar into the ashtray on the bedside table. He slowly strips out of his clothes, getting totally naked. Then he slides in, and leans back.

“Give me a show, sweetheart.”

You hum, swaying again. You aren’t a pro at this kind of stuff, but it’s fun regardless to pull your shirt up and over your head like you’re a dirty dancer.

“Like this, daddy?”

John hums.

You slowly slide your pants down, turning so he can watch your ass move, kicking them away. You hear the slick sounds of him jerking his cock as you do.

“Should I take my panties off?” you ask, thumbs slipping into the elastic.

“Yes, take them off,” he grunts, “turn around.”

You do, then slowly slip your panties off. He licks his bottom lip again, quick.

“Come here.”

You slide onto the bed, on your knees, then crawl forward until you’re beside him, where he pushes you to lay on your side.

His heavy palm finds the naked skin of your hip, squeezing, “still want to show me your star power, sweetheart?”

“Yes, daddy,” you’re back in it, eyes half lidded. Your pussy is making a wet spot on your thighs, “I wanna show you.”

He pushes you to your back, slaps your thighs until you open your legs and hold them out. Then he pauses, hand at the junction of your thigh and hip, thumb inching towards your pussy.

“Look how wet you are, sweetheart,” he murmurs.

You clench, tilting your hips up. Your clit throbs.

“Ah ah, get back down,” he tuts.

Your ass touches the bed again, hips forced down by sheer willpower. His thumb finally reaches you, pulling aside your pussylip to gaze at your wetness.

It gushes out of you, and you’re sure he can see the way your hole clenches.

“Desperate little cunt, isn't she?” he uses his other hand, two two fingers coming to pull the hood of your clit up and just watch as it jumps needily, “awe, poor thing.”

“Please, daddy,” you could cry, “please, touch me.”

“Touch where, love? Touch this needy little clit?”

“Yes, please!”

“Well, since you asked so nicely,” he abandons holding you open to bring his thumb to your exposed clit, rubbing in circles. You shout, a tremor immediately beginning. It’s too much and not enough at once, electric and icy-hot.

Then he slips those fingers inside you, slow and testing at first, but when he realizes just how wet and soft you are he curls them inside you deeply and oh, fuck, your eyes roll back into your head.

“That’s the spot, that’s it,” he grunts, shaking you, taking you apart.

John only fingers you long enough to let your wetness spill out of you, wetting your thighs, soaking his fingers– until you’re ready for his cock.

“You’re ready,” he lays the length of it against your pussy for a moment, letting your swollen lips hug his length, before he shifts back and nudges the head at your hole, “yeah, you’re ready for it.”

He stuffs you fucking full. You’ve never been so stuffed in your life, thankful for his diligent attention earlier or you might be really feeling the weight of him.

“Oh, fuck,” you gasp, back arching, nipples rubbing against his chest hair. It sparks pleasure from your tits right down your cunt, body aflame, hands scratching through the hair at his back.

It’s like fucking a bear, or a werewolf. He’s relentless, too, without mercy. Plows into you hard and long, thrusts measured, never faltering.

John fucks like a pornstar, there’s no doubt about it. He takes up so much space on top of you that without his arms holding him up you worry about being crushed– you crave it, too.

“Good fucking girl,” he snarls, lip curling, mustache going with it, “want to be on camera, do ya? Let me hear you.”

You let loose, mouth open in one long drawn out sound, interposed only by the gasps you let out each time he hits you deep.

You tilt your head back, bearing your throat, taking each heavy thrust and crying out with them, squeezing around him.

“I’m gonna give it all to you, sweetheart, fuck,” he snaps his hips faster now, “and you’re gonna take it all like a star.”

You nod desperately, feeling his pubes each time he thrusts to the hilt, wet with your juices. You’re so fucking close, one breath to your clit and you’d lose your mind.

He straightens, hands going to your hips, tightening, as he snaps one, two, three times and tenses–

His head snaps back, neck bulging with veins as he comes, teeth bared in a growl as he curses, “fuck, good girl, that’s right– good fucking pussy–”

Hot come shoots inside, heating you up further, making you whine with frustration and satisfaction both.

When the taut line of his body relaxes and he pulls out, a flood of come following him, he slides to his stomach and spreads you open with his thumbs.

“Let daddy make it up to you, sweetheart,” he murmurs to your pussy, “he’s not usually so selfish.”

John looks down first. Your pussy is swollen, well-fucked, and you can feel a slight gape.

“Poor little pussy,” he murmurs, then seals his mouth over your clit until you fall apart.

“You sure you aren’t a pornstar?” your cheek is pressed to his chest, basking in the furriness, arm and leg thrown over his body.

He laughs, “I’m sure, sweetheart. But I will say–” he pauses to lean down and kiss the corner of your mouth, mustache still damp, “you’ve definitely got star quality.”

[steviewashere]

I kinda feel like Steve wasn't as popular as he's made out to be. Like, maybe he's got a bit of a reputation that proceeds him—ladies man, The Hair, and Steeevveee Harrington. He takes care of himself, takes care of his dates. The guys around him oversell his personality a lot, how many people he can get in bed with him, the way he can instantly charm a person.

But then you meet him and it's just.

This is the guy you're talking about?

The guy who forgets how to use his tongue sometimes and just does one of those little finger waves? The guy who, if he thinks you're not paying attention to him, will just stand there and make a bunch of goofy faces, lost in thought, muttering song lyrics under his breath? The guy who keeps making the most dorky references to music and movie culture—he quoted something from Star Trek on one of his dates. And the guy who will run into walls when trying to make a swift exit?

Dude is awkward. He is clammy. He is stuttering over his words and trying to cover it up with his pretty smile—which, yeah could be charming, but in his own special streak of charming. Every romantic gesture he pulls is more outlandish, garish, and brash than the last; he is fumbling matches for candles, though, and he is sticking himself in the thumb with the thorns on roses, he is spilling popcorn all over himself on movie dates, and he is tripping on his own feet while trying to carry a girl to his bed upstairs.

Every time a girl kisses his cheek, he's immediately flushing head to toe, smiling all crooked, eyes all soft. He almost forgets to kiss them back.

When he dates Eddie, though? Oh my god.

Eddie flirts with him and Steve literally squeaks. Eddie watches him while Steve is playing basketball, he fumbles the ball and falls onto his knees on the court. Eddie tucks hair behind Steve's ear, Steve is blurting out his entire hair care regime—all because Eddie murmured about how soft it was. Eddie rubs his back while they're cuddled on the couch, Steve gets a boner so fast that he nearly blacks out. Eddie makes them dinner once, tells Steve to just sit down at the table while ushering him out of the kitchen, and Steve is in such a daze of love that he runs into the doorjamb face first and breaks his nose.

When Eddie tells him he loves him? Steve literally screams and has to take a lap before saying it back.

Every time Steve flirts, he has to back track five steps. Every time he compliments Eddie, he has to clarify that it's a compliment because they all come out so aggressively to the point they sound like insults. He tries to quote Shakespeare and, sure it's a love quote, but it's from some incest scene and Eddie laughs before telling him what it really means.

I don't know. Steve just embarrasses himself a lot. Like he definitely has the capacity to sweep somebody off their feet, romance 'em or whatever. But when he's really, really in love with somebody (whether it be after a few dates with a girl, the person he's in love with is Nancy, or even Eddie)? Steve is not chill whatsoever.

Everything that rumors said were just complete lies. You wanna know who started them?

Tommy.

It was Tommy trying to cover for his best friend. Because he saw Steve smile at a girl once, flirt with her, get a date with her. But he had a piece of broccoli stuck between his two front teeth. He couldn't save the interaction even if he tried, Steve was too enamored to quit. The only saving grace Tommy could think of was sell Steve as this handsome, charming, romantic guy—even though the Steve he knew was dorky, a major geek in private, awkward as hell, and funny half the time (his jokes were very hit or miss).

(Also, imagine gay Tommy just trying to reason with himself that his crush—his best friend—is actually not the awkward guy he really is. And maybe he still likes Steve. But Jesus. That piece of broccoli was huge! How did Steve not feel it?)

Anyway. Cringe fail Steve is something very important to me.

[lilianne-tarot]

PICK-A-CARD: What's your lowkey powerful move? ˚୨୧⋆.˚

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I. II. III.

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Hey there! Welcome to another PAC reading on my blog page—I hope you all enjoy it! Comment down what you felt about the reading and if it resonated with you and show some love, Your support means everything to me!<3 How to Pick Your Pile: Take a deep breath, clear your mind, and look at the images below. Which one pulls you in the most? Trust your gut! Once you choose the image, The number below your chosen image is your pile. If more than one catches your eye, that just means there’s extra tea for you—go ahead and read both!

get your own personalized paid reading here! it would really help me out!😊🦋

My KO-FI link: HERE! 🫶🏻

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⋆˙⟡Pile I

Ohhh, bestie, this spread is JUICY. I can already feel the energy radiating off these cards. So, the Ace of Pentacles is giving “I walk in, and the room shifts” vibes, maybe some of yall even feel that thing. people see you as someone who knows how to manifest real, concrete results. You give off that effortless “I make things happen” energy, and the wild part? Half the time, you don’t even have to announce it. You just move in silence, and suddenly, things start aligning in your favor. It’s like you have a golden touch, and people feel that. Now, here’s where it gets interesting—because the Magician reversed is shaking things up. Normally, the Magician is that “I have all the tools, I can do anything” card, but reversed? This is the art of the illusion. You have this insane ability to make things look effortless when, in reality, there’s a whole strategy behind it. nobody ever fully understands how you do it. Are you lucky? Are you secretly a mastermind? Do you have some divine favor that keeps you ahead? (👀 Spoiler alert: it’s all of the above.) this spread overall screams natural-born leader—you don’t even have to try to command attention, you just do, some of yall have held some major leader position in their lives, maybe in school or in now in your work space. What keeps people thinking about you? It’s the way you exude confidence in a way that’s not cocky, but magnetic. You have presence. You don’t need to brag, you don’t need to prove yourself, and you definitely don’t need outside validation. yall seem to be really secure in yourselves. but I would def say, Some people may even wonder if you’re manipulative, or if you’ve got some sort of secret advantage. People admire you, but they also lowkey fear you—because not everyone can handle someone who just moves differently.

This is the kind of energy that leaves ex-friends and past situationships wondering if they fumbled the bag . So keep doing what you’re doing, because this is powerful energy. Now tell me, does this reading not scream “you”? Because I feel like I just exposed your entire aura rn. 😂🔥

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⋆˙⟡Pile II

first of all i was so shocked when I saw all cards of this deck was cups. we’re not just talking about leaving a cute impression on people. This is some straight-up, ‘I met them once, and now they live rent-free in my head’ type of impact. Let’s break it down. Your Vibe? Ethereal, Emotionally Addictive, Unforgettable. Look, not everyone has the ability to make people feel something so intensely that they’re out here journaling about it six months later, you're that airport crush of people 😭.You are that person. The Knight of Cups, Queen of Cups, and Six of Cups together? Ohhh, this is emotional witchcraft. You have this almost cinematic energy—people don’t just remember you, they replay you like their favourite movie scene. It’s like you’re the embodiment of a nostalgic song that makes them stare out of the window like they’re in a music video. You’re not trying to be unforgettable—you just are. People feel safe with you, seen by you, and understood by you. And that?? That’s rare as hell in a world full of surface-level interactions(cmon we all what a pile 2 person in our life) . This also tells me your impact isn’t just strong—it’s lasting. People don’t move on from you quickly. Even if they don’t see you for years, something will trigger a memory of you (a song, a scent, a random moment), and suddenly, boom—there you are, sitting pretty in their mind like you never left.

people always remember you anyway. It’s not about being the loudest in the room—it’s about how deeply you made them feel something. And let’s be real: people forget words, but they never forget emotions. You might not even realize the weight of your presence until years later, when someone confesses, “You changed my life and didn’t even know it.”

So yeah, your power move? You leave emotional fingerprints on people’s souls. And the gag is? You don’t even have to try. 🤷‍♀️

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⋆˙⟡Pile III

They’re screaming depth, and an almost frustratingly intriguing energy. Like, people think they know you, but then you do or say something that makes them go, “Wait… who are you, actually?” And that question? That is why people cannot get you out of their heads.

Let’s talk about The Hanged Man sitting right in the middle—because that’s the core of your vibe. You don’t operate on the same wavelength as everyone else. Your energy is like when you’re watching a thriller, and the main character does something weird, and you just know there's a deeper reason, but you won’t find out until the end. You have this eerie, compelling stillness that makes people want to decode you. Then we have The Moon along with the hanged man, which? Chef’s kiss—because now we’re getting into that dreamy, slightly chaotic, almost unreal quality about you. You give people just enough to feel like they’re getting closer to understanding you… only for them to realize they have no idea what’s real and what’s projection. People get lost in their own assumptions about you. They see what they want to see, not necessarily who you actually are. (💀 Tell me why this feels like exactly the kind of energy that makes exes spiral at 3 AM, trying to figure out why they still don’t understand you.)You don’t need to flex your growth because by the time people catch on, you’re already five steps ahead. There’s something almost intimidating about how quietly powerful you are. Like, you might not even realize how often people compare themselves to you. You make people feel like they need to level up—but they’ll never admit you were their motivation.

Listen, you’re not just memorable—you’re the unresolved mystery in someone’s story. The “what if,” the “I never quite figured them out,” the “damn, I wish I could talk to them one more time.” People replay their interactions with you because they feel like they missed something. You don’t just linger in their mind—you haunt it. And the best part? You don’t even try. You don’t have to force an impact, you don’t need attention—you just exist in a way that makes people feel like they almost got close to understanding you… but never fully did. And that? That’s the kind of unforgettable energy that lives rent-free in people's minds forever.

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Thank you so much for reading all the way through! I hope my reading resonated with you and that you had a lovely time going through it. If you enjoyed it, please like and reblog—it really means a lot! Let me know which pile you chose; I absolutely love hearing your thoughts and feedback on my readings! ♡

Note: tarot cards provide guidance and possible insights into what could happen based on current energies, thoughts, and actions. the cards can highlight potential paths or outcomes, but they do not predict the future in a fixed way. this is a general reading so take what resonates!

[alexrosa13]

Hi! I've read your writing about the supermodel! I'm obsessed with it! Can you do something similar but make the MC/reader an idol?

Idol

Xavier; Zayne; Rafayel; Sylus; Caleb; Jeremiah; Greyson; Thomas; Luke & Kieran x female!reader

Genre: fluff

Warnings: may come out a little suggestive if you squint (Xavier; Sylus; Greyson), alcohol (Thomas), hinted at bisexual reader in Luke & Kieran's part

Note: OMG HELL YES, I was really confused if the idea was supposed to be about just idol, or a k-pop kind of idol so I went with the idea of the reader being a soloist whether k-pop or not - doesn't matter

for masterlist and request info head to the navigation →

Music is what feelings sound like...

Xavier

How do we rewrite the stars?

Say you were made to be mine

Nothing can keep us apart

'Cause you are the one I was meant to find

~ „Rewrite The Stars” Zac Efron, Zendaya

★ falls asleep listening to your music, makes it his ringtone, all of his chores are done while humming to it, he's obsessed in the cutest way

★ oh if you'd ever write a song inspired by him; expect him to not leave you alone for at least two weeks straight, he will be tailing you like a puppy wherever you go (if you're already on this stage in a relationship then bathroom included, you can lock the door but this dude can teleport sooo...)

★ would get any merch you release and would (will) make you sign it (please add a little heart or a star to your autograph every now and then, he will cherish those pieces the most)

★ after your concerts, late at night in your shared home, you would have a private concert between just the two of you and occasionally you would also invite animals that came to visit you

"Xavier my voice is dead, you have to sing solo." you laughed while taking a sip of water from your bottle.

"But without my other half this song isn't as special as it's supposed to be, it's our song." he complained, while looking too cute with a little frown on his face.

"Then pick another song, and this one we'll sing together tomorrow, deal?" you came closer to him, your arms curling around his neck, hugging him.

You swore that the brightest stars of tonight's sky were hidden in his eyes, looking at you as if reflecting your shine, as if your joy was what made him truly the happiest.

With a quiet sight he complied, agreeing to continue your little concert another day, letting your vocal cords rest after hours of singing.

You felt his hands tightening its hold at your waist before casting you up, making you cling to him even more, while your legs wrapped around his waist. You threw him a questioning look, but he simply smiled while proceeding to carry you towards your shared bathroom.

"Xavier? May I ask what exactly are you doing?" you giggled a bit while he sat you down at the edge of the tub.

"Planning to spoil you and get you ready for bed." he said casually while already starting to prepare a bath.

"So the first point of your little plan is running me a bath?" he nodded, not looking at you, too focused on getting the right temperature of water "Will you join me?" now you got his attention. Seeing your smiley face he wouldn't even dream of refusing, deciding to simply chuckle to himself and nod his head once more.

Zayne

Unconditional, unconditionally

I will love you unconditionally

There is no fear now

Let go and just be free

~ „Unconditionally” Katy Perry

★ makes sure that you don't overwork yourself, which sometimes may be hard while your new album is about to drop or a tour is approaching

★ sometimes, especially in the evening when it's just the two of you in the quietness of your home, you like to sit in his office and write songs while he works, some lyrics would never leave your notes, too personal to share them with the world

★ would attend award ceremonies with you, however he won't walk the red carpet by your side, when asked about it he simply says that it's only your moment to shine, but you know that it's just because he's not fully comfortable with that kind of attention on him

★ if you play instruments in a different room while he's working he would purposely leave the door to his office open, same with singing, once he'll finished with all of the documents he would go to find you and listen to you in person, sometimes hiding behind the wall as 'not to distract you'

He heard another faint note coming from the piano in the living area of your home, soon accompanied by your voice, so quiet and soft that Zayne almost couldn't catch it.

Looking at the clock in the corner of the monitor of his work laptop and noticing the late hour he decided to call it a night. The rest of his work can wait until tomorrow, now he wanted to spend the remaining hours of the day with his love, and nothing could stop him.

He left his office and made his way through the dark corridor, his steps quiet, not wanting to alert you of his presence, planning to stay unnoticed for a while and enjoy your little concert.

And just like any other time: he succeeded.

He leaned against the wall on the other side of the room while watching your back, slightly lit garden making as your background behind the huge window.

If recorded - this moment could fit perfectly in one of your future music videos, but instead it was just his to savor.

A perfectly played melody synchronized with your voice sounded like an angel singing lullaby accompanied by the gentle noises of its wings swaying in the air.

Unnoticed by him the song finally came to an end, last note leaving the instrument before your finger left the key.

Seconds later the sound of a quiet applause from behind your back stirred you, quickly you turned around on your seat, catching eye contact with your lover.

"Will there finally come a time when you'll stop sneaking up on me when I play?" you teased with not even a hint of irritation in your voice.

"I simply do not wish to disturb your focus, once you're fully into the song you tend to lose yourself in it. I wouldn't dream of breaking that state." his smirk made you let out a quiet giggle.

"Come and join me."

Rafayel

Ain't no prayer, ain't no God that could save us from our love

Ain't no rainfall, ain't no flood that could drown all our sorrow

~ „Lovers In The Dark” Sophie Morelli

★ in a pack with a boyfriend you got yourself a free stylist, well not exactly free, but your payment now are kissed and complements

★ poor Thomas would never hear the end of Raf's ramblings about you... "Rafayel I know that your girlfriend is really really important to you BUT I NEED YOUR ASS TO GET BACK TO PAINTING, WE HAVE CUSTOMERS!" while Rafayel stays in his seat, unbothered, ordering thousands of new designer clothes for you - yeah it's hard to be a manager of such a diva

★ would put his artistic soul to use when you need a new album cover, either would paint something inspired by your song or play your photographer for a bit

★ concerts backstage can get really chaotic sometimes, all sets of hands put to work, making sure that everything will go smoothly - and Rafayel making sure that you look your absolute best (girl fire your stylist at this point)

"Babe who hurt you?" he looked at you looking genuinely terrified.

"Rafayel. It's just an outfit, I'll be fine." your gaze returned to a mirror, trying to believe in your own words.

"JUST AN OUTFIT?! Baby there's absolutely no way I'm letting you on stage in this... Horrible, horrible, piece of fabric." his eyes never left your clothes, his brows drew together in a grimace, half an hour was left before you'll need to wrap everything up and walk out to face the cameras and your fans, he needs to fix the mess your 'stylist' made.

"Can you fix it in twenty minutes?" you asked, the confidence disappearing from your expression, looking at him with a plead. Instantly he moved towards your wardrobe, pulling you after him.

"Give me ten." he signaled for you to take off this outfit while busying himself in the countless clothes, working his art.

He'll be damned if he'll let you leave this room in anything less than gorgeous and fabulous.

He had a mission to fulfill, and your image to protect.

Hours later he waited in your changing room for the people to stop running around you, logging onto his social media to see any new posts about you.

WHO'S THAT DIVA???

DOES SHE LIKE WOMEN TOO? Asking for a friend.

I don't think so, she took her bf on the red carpet last time 😔

WHYYYY, WHO DOES HE THINK HE IS TO STEAL HER FROM US

seeing people just now discovering that she dates Rafayel is wild

WAIT. I JUST GOT TO KNOW THAT SHE'S TAKEN AND NOW YOU'RE TELLING ME SHE DATES THE RAFAYEL??? 😭😭😭

Idk who I am more jealous about...

⬆️⬆️⬆️ literally me

BISEXUAL PANIC 🫡

He chuckled to himself, yeah he won the world the moment you agreed to date him.

Sylus

They say all good boys go to Heaven

But bad boys bring Heaven to you

It's automatic

It's just what they do

~ „Heaven” Julia Michaels

★ mysterious boyfriend pt. 2 - the one and only time when your fans 'saw' him was in one of your mv's, but only his back was visible while you were clinging to his side, at first they thought that it was some random actor but then they saw the same white hair on one of your social media stories and rumors started to fly

★ would give twins the tickets to your concert under the excuse of watching you in case someone came there to hurt you, but in reality it's just because he knows they enjoy your concerts and wants them to have some fun

★ he'll ensure your safety on any kinds of events, not trusting your company to take care of it properly

★ in one interview you mentioned that your partner is absolutely tone-deaf, laughing about it, saying how opposites attract, in another one you said how your partner loves your singing and how they are your biggest supporter and inspiration

You just stepped out of your morning shower, putting on underwear you went to sit down on a stool before the mirror, about to dry your hair and do your morning beauty routine.

With the loud humming of the hair dryer drowning out other noises you began to sing, loudly, thinking that no one will hear it.

Well, you were wrong.

About a minute in you noticed a silhouette standing by the door.

Damn you should really learn to lock it.

"Sylus?" you asked, turning the hair dryer off, watching him through the mirror's reflection.

"Don't mind me sweetheart. I'm just enjoying the show." you turned around to face him with your face expression screaming 'really?', but he remained unbothered, reaching to close the door and right after taking a couple steps your way finding himself right behind you "Allow me."

The hair dryer was gently taken away from your hand, your eyes met his in the mirror, smile threatened to show on your lips, but you still tried to keep up the facade of annoyance.

Yet completely unbothered Sylus began drying your hair, humming a tune in the meantime, a sound that you almost didn't catch.

Seeing his eyes focused on your hair, you closed your own in a relaxed manner, your voice synchronizing with his when you started to hum the well-known melody of the song you wrote for him a long time ago.

A quiet domesticated moment before your long day began was something that you didn't even know you needed today, but were absolutely grateful that it happened. Grateful that you had someone to share this morning with.

Caleb

Can we pretend that airplanes in the night sky are like shooting stars?

I could really use a wish right now, wish right now, wish right now

~ „Airplanes” B.o.B, Hayley Williams

★ imagine being highschool sweethearts with Caleb, every girl being jealous of you, sending you hateful glances every time they saw you leaning on his arm during a break between the classes, and every guy either congratulating him on dating you or plotting to steal you away from him

★ and in the middle of it all: both of you just didn't care - too busy with admiring the other to notice the jealous looks you received at every corner, every gift given to you by someone else than your lover being either rejected or thrown away

★ everyone knew that you'll go far in life, with his plans about becoming a pilot and your dreams of existing in the music industry, supporting each other in your goals

★ and with another concert bringing a huge echo on the news questions started floating around you; did you have a partner? Well that was a secret no one knew the truth about, with you dodging any question regaining your private life like a pro

The screams and cheering felt like home, you standing with a microphone before thousands of people, feeling like you made it.

Another song starting to play, the show going on, you and your dancers flowlessly navigating through the stage, during one of the quiet moments between the verses, your eyes began scanning the front row, eager to meet one pair of eyes watching you.

And sure enough: among the sea of flashes, phones and signs one immediately caught your eye.

[ Your Wish Is Here 🍎⭐]

A giggle slipped out from your mouth, your mic catching the sound before you moved your face away, cheers erupted from everywhere around you, your eyes met his.

The next words before you came back to singing got an even louder reaction from the crowd.

"All of my wishes came true already." and the lyrics of your song began floating out of your mouth, all the while holding the eye contact with those beautiful violet eyes.

You made it.

Jeremiah

Lilacs for all of the lies

Daisies for days that I cried

I love to watch 'em as they die

Orchids when I want a kiss

All that I need is your tulips on mine

~ „Don't Send Me Flowers” Sorana

★ to say that you were an unexpected match would be an understanding. A humble florist with a worldwide music star? Yeah, maybe in a dreams.

★ your fans knew that you had someone, the smile on your face every time you were asked about your partner was telling them enough, even if your mouth didn't.

★ in reality this match was as if made in Heaven: your radiating kindness together with his calm but sweet demeanor, never before have you had a partner that was so understanding and patient with you

★ the truth as to why you never spoke his name was a mystery, you talked about him so much, they saw you with him every now and then, so why was his name such a high guarded secret?

"So... Are you coming with me for the next tour?" you asked in a hopeful tone, it was a week before the whole thing shall begin, and you had yet to hear an answer from his lips.

Today he texted you that he finally decided, you weren't particularly stressed, if he'll agree then you'll be happy, if he'll refuse then you'll be... well, less happy but still understanding and just slightly sadden by the fact.

The look on his face didn't tell you anything, perfectly calm and composed.

"Well I had a lot of thinking to do, and some work with the documents." his identity creates complications every now and then "And I've decided..." he made a dramatic pause, the hopeful look on your face made his heart throb.

"Well? Tell me! You kept me in the dark for too long Mister!" your expression turned into a fake annoyance, unable to help himself he chuckled.

"I'll come with you." instantly you jumped onto him, almost making you both fall in the process but he managed to steady you in time, damn he's actually kinda strong...

The smile didn't leave either of your faces for the rest of the day, your happiness caused by his agreement and his caused by your joy.

Yeah, a perfect harmony.

Greyson

And every time we touch, boy, you make me feel weak

I can tell you're shy, and I think you're so sweet

Spendin' every night under covers and

Still I wonder, could you fall for a woman like me?

~ „Woman Like Me” Little Mix, Nicki Minaj

★ imagine him being your fan previously to your meeting and relationship, nothing too intense, but he knew you and your music well enough to recognize you

★ now imagine his shock when he randomly saw you sitting at the quiet cafe he often visited after leaving his work, enjoying your favorite drink while occupied by a book lying open before you

★ he tried not to stare, you probably came there to relax and wouldn't wish to be bothered by a fan asking for a photo or autograph, so he tried to go about his day, trying to act like he totally didn't recognize his celebrity crush

★ now imagine his shock when you spoke to him when he was passing by your table, saying that his glasses suit him, a nice compliment turned into an hour spent talking to each other, with him leaving the cafe with an autograph in his notebook, a photo with you hugging him, and your number to top that

"Darling do you know where my Saint Laurent heels are?" he heard your voice coming from the bathroom, probably finishing up your make-up.

Turning off the stove he went to the bedroom, knowing where to look for your (expensive) shoes.

And sure enough: they were there, lying carelessly in the corner of your room, the memories of how they ended up there bringing a blush to his face.

He picked them up, much more carefully than you when you dropped them to the floor, and headed back to give them to you.

Just as he left the bedroom he saw you, standing before the body length mirror put right next to the entrance door, fixing your jewelry.

He took a second to admire you, the way your body looked in your carefully picked outfit, the way your hair looked absolutely perfect and your make-up imitating a professional work.

How did he even got to date you?

Oh, right, he didn't, you picked him, grabbed him by a collar like you would a kitten saying 'This one's mine.' and he just accepted it (gladly).

"Darling? My shoes?" your voice brought him back from a daydream, he met your eyes through the mirror's reflection, a knowing smile formed on your lips.

He rushed towards you, showing you the items in his hands.

"Thank you darling." you kissed his cheek, unknowingly to him leaving a lipstick mark.

You bent to put on the shoes, with him moving away to pick up your purse, handing it to you once you stood up straight.

You took your possession from him and moved your palm to caress his cheek for a second, gracing him with one more smile of yours before turning around and leaving the walls of your shared apartment.

Thomas

This night is sparkling, don't you let it go

I'm wonderstruck, blushing all the way home

I'll spend forever wondering if you knew

I was enchanted to meet you

~ „Enchanted” Taylor Swift

★ you met him during one of the after parties after a gala that he attended with (instead of) Rafayel, he was sipping nonalcoholic drink, rethinking all of his life choices after another one of artist's runaways from the cameras

★ imagine your drunk ass laughing from something that your friends were saying, unnoticed by you coming too close to a tables put on the higher platform and falling in a way that had you landing right on Thomas's lap

★ it was a start to your love story, you spend an evening together, talking about the industries and random life fun-facts, the night ending in him driving you home and exchanging numbers

★ you were one of the rising stars back then, overworked and underappreciated, you felt like you didn't have a say in your career, everyone deciding for you, even your social media were carefully monitored and you needed an approval from the management before posting anything, that was until Thomas put a stop to it

"You don't understand how much your career costs the company! Your music is better as it is, so leave your little notes in the trash and get back to the studio to work with the professionals." your manager, an old guy whose wife left taking the kids with her, screamed at you on the corridor, right after another long, boring meeting regarding your status in the industry.

"If only they would take a peek at my lyrics maybe it would work for the be-" you tried to argue, but the look he sent you made you quiet down instantly.

"I don't care about your little scribbles." harshly he yanked the papers from your hands, crumpling the paper with his grip "This is trash. Everything you do - is trash. So if you want us not to drop you and your little music career then just stay quiet and do what you're told." you felt the numbness creeping up on you, this isn't what you wanted your life to look like. You saw the old man opening up his mouth to probably let out more insults about you and your work, but another voice interrupted your conversation before he got the chance to continue.

"I'm pretty sure that insulting your artists is against the company's policy." you looked at Thomas, he told you that he'll be at a meeting in your work place today, he probably just finished up with that.

Before your manager could mutter out an excuse Thomas clicked something on his phone, a voice recording started playing, a proof of what happened a moment earlier.

You couldn't help the smile that threatened to show, he had lots of recordings like those actually.

You saw how the colors left your manager's face and knew that you caught him.

You shared a knowing look with Thomas, silently thanking him.

It will all be alright.

Luke & Kieran

Yeah, you fell in love

But you fell deeper in this pit

While death rains from above

So count your blessings 'cause this is it

You're not letting it go

So what if I misbehave? It's what everybody craves

~ „Addict” Michael Kovach, Chi-Chi

★ I hope you're ready for the chaos, because girl you're in for a ride. The amount of support you would get from every single man above but make it double.

★ imagine being a loud, confident, outspoken woman in the industry, rising up high just as a teen, everyone knew who you are, either loving or hating you (you were probably a wake up call for young teens gayness)

★ none of the men could ever handle you, so who could blame you when you got yourself two super sweet and silly boyfriends, breaking a standard once again?

★ your partners were a mystery, people knew about them, sure, but they knew them without ever seeing their faces or knowing their names, the most of the info they got was when a video from the backside of your concert got leaked, showing a cute moment between you and two men, dressed in black comfy clothes covering them whole with a hood dropped over their heads and a masks

"You'll drop me!" your high pinched scream could be heard together with your laugh, and a loud chuckle from one of the two men.

One of them had you dropped over his shoulders, attempting to do a squat with you as his additional weight.

"OMG STOP!" you continued screaming while laughing, clearly having fun.

"Aaaaand..." the other guy followed you two down, cheering up on the man holding you "WE GOT IT!" he screamed when the other man came back to stand after his successful squat without dropping you,

"I'LL KILL YOU TWO!" you playfully tugged on their hair to which they both let out a couple of dramatic 'auw!'s.

The video ended with the camera dropping down and the sound of the three of you laughing,

Safe to say that it made a storm in the media.

I AM SORRFY WHSO ARE THEYD?

THATS WHAT ALL OF US WANT TO KNOW SIS

Well that was not on my 2048 bingo card...

my crush got herself 2 boyfriends and I'm fine with it. *sob*

I have a couple of not really appropriate questions.

*hides a notebook* a couple of whaaaaaat

Okay, so the bisexual Queen got a man. Two men. Chat how are we coping?

*cries into a pillow*

It's a hard day for us girlies out here.

We fight, she's held hostage🤺🤺🤺

OMG I JUST WOKE UP???!!! 🥹😭

[moon-ttokki-x]

♡ ‧₊ ot8!𝗌𝗄𝗓 𝗏𝖺𝗅𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗇𝖾𝗌' 𝖽𝖺𝗒 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗌𝗉𝖾𝖼𝗂𝖺𝗅 ‧₊ .ᐟ

pairing: ot8!skz x reader imagines

summary: just a snippet of what i think skz would do for you on valentines' day

genre: pretty cute and sappy, lots of fluff, slight crack, mentions of eating

a/n: yet another year of having no valentine, but at least i can buy chocolate half off

Chan who surprises you and shows up at your door with a bouquet of flowers and an outstretched hand. He's in a dark fitted suit, handsome as always, and there's a big smile on his face as he runs off the cheesiest pick up lines, handing you a singular rose as he does. He waits in your living room while you get ready and then offers his arm as you both walk to his car. He takes you to a classic night out, a candlelit dinner in some city restaurant, the lights low and ambient music swirling around your heads. Hushed giggles and feeding each other bites of food are done over intertwined hands.

"You look beautiful under the lights, baby. Here, eat some more..."

♡

Minho who pretends to forget what day it is and leaves you feeling a little downcast. That is, until you're in your office working and the cats walk in, each holding a rose of a different colour; one red, one pink, and one white. He appears at the door with a smirk on his face and strokes your hair as you whine about him pretending to forget. The roses are clutched tightly in your hands as he leads you to the kitchen, where there's a small arrangement of gifts. He isn't one for grand gestures but you're satisfied and cosy, sitting in his lap as you open little trinkets, the cats watching on.

"You're so cute when you whine. You really thought I forgot, huh?"

♡

Changbin who is also a hopeless romantic, who is endlessly in love with you, who shows up to your workplace with a hand full of heart-shaped helium balloons and a big grin on his face. He loudly declared his love for you in front of your coworkers, completely unashamed, and watches with a massive, cute smile on his face as you turn the colour of the balloons he's holding. But the gigantic, warm, though slightly crushing hug he gives you is warmer than your cheeks.

"Happy Valentines Day, bunny! Here- Ah, your face has gone so red..."

♡

Hyunjin who told you to show up at his apartment at exactly six o clock dressed in something classy but comfortable. He blindfolds you as soon as he opens the door and leads you to his living room, where he's set up two canvases opposite each other. There's a platter full of finger food, two glasses and a bottle of some fancy drink he took from the company. He's hung fairy lights around the room and he watches affectionately as you show him your slightly messy impression of the love of your life. His is much better, but he kisses you anyway and says he'll hang it in his room above the bed.

"You're so talented, my love. I'm going to hang it up right away..."

♡

Jisung who pretty much kidnaps you as soon as your shift at work ends, telling you to dress in one of his hoodies. When you come out of his room, he's set up a massive mess of pillows, cushions, and fluffy blankets in front of the TV, which is set up to play a game. He hands you a controller and tells you he's ordered so much food. You know he's done it so you can both spend time together without it ending in the kitchen burning down, but it's appreciated nonetheless. He lets you beat him every time and watches you sit up in victory and cheer at his defeat, your fingers covered in cheesy french fry salt.

"Aww, jagi, you keep beating me. When did you get so good at this?"

♡

Felix who, when you come home, surprises you by setting up a few things in the kitchen so you can both bake and make a few things together. He sets up bowls of chocolate and lets you add the food colouring, turning each bowl pink and red. You both dip strawberries and candied orange slices into the bowls, dripping chocolate over the counter before laying them on a tray to set. You mix the rest of the chocolate together and pour them into heart-shaped molds, marbling the colours together with fingertips stained pink.

"Sunflower, we made such a mess! At least the counter isn't stained pink..."

♡

Seungmin who takes you shopping to the cutest little pop up store, telling you to dress in pink, cream, and white. He meets you at your door and holds your hand as he drives you both there, letting you browse excitedly amongst the shelves for mini figures and plushies. You both come home loaded with a ton of accessories, cuddly toys, and matching items. He then sets up pink lights around your bathroom mirror and takes a whole album's worth of selfies with you.

"I like these necklaces... come on, let's be matching. It'd be cute..."

♡

Jeongin who takes you to the arcade and doesn't even try to let you win. It turns into a competition of who can do the best and he keeps kissing you while you're playing the games so you lose your focus. He teases you each time and promises to let you win the next time. He doesn't, and it's all in good fun until you whine about him being too competitive. He just kisses you again and makes it up to you by taking you for a night-time joyride before stopping at a petrol station, where you both buy convenience store snacks and lie on his car roof, talking about everything.

"Look at all the pretty stars up there. I think you shine way brighter..."

a/n: happy valentines' day to all of my loves ♡ !

[thegamingcatmom]

@groovestrawberry Thank you so much for your words. They mean a lot. Especially because I'm prone to taking stuff way too seriously, so I really appreciate the reminder to just chill tf out. 😅❤️

Right so, onto your questions!

1) the last sentence you wrote

"It didn’t take long for your heart to pick up its frantic rhythm once more, terror seizing you anew at the horrible realization that, who…whatever was chasing you, it had been close enough for you to feel it."

Wrote that only yesterday. 💪

6) the word that appears the most in your current draft

(This is Chapter 4 btw.)

17) talk about your writing and editing process

Oh boy, what to say. Where to start.

I mean, I tend to take things a bit too seriously, as mentioned before. Which means I'll sometimes go over a sentence or paragraph until it no longer makes sense to me, lol. I know it's probably fine as is and ppl are gonna enjoy it anyway, so this is a habit of mine I'm working on. Also because, in my experience, whatever your brain comes up with after you first get your thoughts on paper, it most likely won't be as good as what you first came up with, so you end up going back to the OG anyway. 🤷🏻‍♀️

So ye, editing ain't fun, but it must be done because I'm really not happy with some of the stuff my old self has come up with. 🙃

As for the writing: This goes hand in hand with editing, actually. First things first though: Music. Most important. If I have a song I can vibe to and it fits the mood and all, then it's going rather smoothly. But, even then, I'm by no means a "fast" writer. Even when vibing, I'm still hyper focused on not making mistakes and especially using the correct tense (something I find surprisingly difficult when you're actually focused on it, lol). So, just like with editing, I'll read over a section a few hundred times before I proceed. I know some say it's more important to just get that first draft done and correct any mistakes after but, honestly? When a chapter is done, I wanna post it, not spend another few hours/days/weeks editing stuff. 🤷🏻‍♀️

So ye, writing and editing is more or less the same for me because it happens simultanously. Or it will, once I'm done with editing TBRH (The Bumpy Road Home) and things go back to "normal." 😅

What else to say...hm, I guess a few other "quirks" of mine when writing are:

Writing out a piece of dialogue and putting it somewhere on the page to use later because I just know that if I don't do that, whatever I come up with instead (because my ass forgot half of what I originally came up with) won't be as slapping. OG always wins and all. 😉

Pausing to take a breather because I get so immersed in the scene, I actually need a moment to process it. (I read somewhere that someone referred to it as "zoomies." This was more in the sense of reading a fic and coming across a section so damn good, you need a moment to process it. But, sometimes, this is very much the case for writers too. 🫠)

Looking up images, videos etc. of the ppl or things I'm writing about. For Chapter 4 of TBRH, the Denali house was my trusty companion. Just chilling in the background (aka: another tab), lol.

Starting on another scene even though I haven't finished the current one because I just need to know what happens next. (Yes, I'm aware I'm the writer.)

Well, that's all I can come up with for the moment. I'm sure there's more and maybe I'll post it at some point. ✌️

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Thanks a lot for your questions and your lovely words! 💋

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[literatureloverx]

Celebrating Valentine’s Day with BSD men

BSD men x reader, I did not use pronouns for the reader, but in some cases, it is subtly implied to be female, though not overtly so.

Fyodor Dostoevsky

He would gift you—very much in line with what Asagiri confirmed—an entire country. Be prepared to manage political affairs because you will be the president and owner of your favourite nation. Congratulations!

Expect a lavish candlelit dinner, accompanied by classical music and an exquisite orchestra.

You can also look forward to many other gifts—he is never one to hold back. Your shared bedroom will likely be filled with presents, each meticulously crafted and designed just for you. The sheer intricacy and depth of his knowledge about you will leave you breathless.

The night will conclude with a magnificent fireworks display.

You made the right choice by choosing to live in isolation with him, basking in the luxury he provides—not that your answer would have made a difference if you had said no.

Dazai Osamu

We all know that Dazai—the Dazai—is, unsurprisingly, utterly broke and survives off the money of his fellow ADA members, such as Atsushi and Kunikida. (We love a pest.🩵)

He isn’t the overtly romantic type, but that doesn’t mean his love is any less intense.

He will likely buy you a bouquet of roses with Kunikida’s money and give Atsushi his best puppy-dog eyes to help him get you a pair of matching rings.

But then comes the truly unexpected part—he takes you stargazing in the freezing cold, having put in all the effort to create a soft, cosy space for you both to lie on, complete with extra blankets and pillows.

And when it starts snowing? You are going home, of course—not that he didn’t account for this. He has another present waiting for you there—one he actually bought himself, which is precisely why he had no money left for anything else.

He is a pervert. That is all I am going to say.

Nakahara Chuuya

Another man with refined tastes and a big, considerate, loving heart for his darling. He would spend weeks—if not months—thinking about the perfect way to celebrate this day with you, determined to make it unforgettable.

Chuuya pays attention—he really does, because he cares that much. Though he is not the best with subtleties, he does his best to take mental notes on everything you like and dislike, everything you want and do not want.

So, expect gifts that are carefully chosen, each one making it clear just how much he notices about you.

The evening will likely begin with him presenting you with a luxuriously crafted dress from a high-end designer—one he specifically picked for you. He wants you to wear it because he is taking you somewhere special, and of course, you will, with the brightest smile on your face.

You will dine at an exclusive restaurant, sharing exquisite wine and food together.

And knowing Chuuya, he will not stop at just one gift. Throughout the night, he will keep surprising you, giving you something new every half hour—because spoiling you is just second nature to him.

Nikolai Gogol

Haha, you silly thing. You actually think Valentine’s Day is romantic? That ridiculous day where Homo sapiens willingly cage themselves—not even in their own perception of love, but in the artificial fantasy constructed by capitalism?

Just joking. If you find it romantic, then of course, he does too. Or at least, he pretends to. Watching your reactions to his “gifts” is far too entertaining. He might as well play along and turn this whole romance thing into one of his little games.

Expect the most outrageous surprises—perhaps he will take you on a helicopter ride, only to reveal that he has written I love you on the ground below… using meticulously arranged corpses. A heartfelt, handcrafted message just for you.

Or maybe he will gift you something else grotesque—something that reminds him of you or symbolises your love in his own twisted way.

Oh, and expect plenty of Valentine’s Day quizzes.

Akutagawa Ryuunosuke

Now, here is someone who has no idea what to do with himself on Valentine’s Day.

To him, it is pointless. Why should this day be any different from the others? And why are you looking at him like that? The expectation in your gaze makes him feel cornered.

But Akutagawa hates being behind on anything. So, despite thinking this whole thing is ridiculous (such a tsundere), he still makes an effort. He prepares something for you—a small but meaningful gift, something that proves he has thought about you, about this day, and has put effort into making you happy.

And once it is over, he lets out a relieved sigh.

Yet, later that night, when he recalls the joy on your face upon receiving his gift, he feels something warm and unfamiliar flicker inside him. He refuses to acknowledge it—but deep down, he knows.

[gracie-eilish]

My Valentine💝

an: i have long nails on again so pls excuse any typos…. typing is hard😭

The scent of roses fills Billie’s place the moment you step inside, the warm glow of candles flickering across the walls. Soft music plays in the background—something romantic but unmistakably her, a perfect blend of dreamy and intimate. You barely have time to take in the cozy, love-filled atmosphere before Billie appears from around the corner, her face lighting up like you’re the most beautiful thing she’s ever seen.

“There’s my Valentine,” she purrs, already making her way toward you with that signature cheeky grin. She’s wearing an oversized sweater—your favorite one on her, of course—and a pair of cozy sweatpants, but somehow she still looks like she belongs on the cover of a magazine.

You smile, setting your bag down just as she throws her arms around your neck, pressing a lingering kiss to your cheek before pulling back slightly to study your face. “Happy Valentine’s Day, angel,” she murmurs, her hands sliding down your arms before intertwining your fingers with hers.

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” you reply, squeezing her hands. “This all looks amazing.”

She shrugs, but the glint in her eyes betrays her pride. “Only the best for my girl.”

Before you can reply, she’s tugging you further inside, leading you to the living room, where a blanket fort—yes, a full-on blanket fort—is set up in the middle of the room. Fairy lights are strung up along the edges, twinkling softly, and inside, a mountain of pillows and blankets makes it look like the coziest, dreamiest hideaway imaginable.

You laugh, eyes wide with delight. “Billie, did you make a whole pillow fort for us?”

She grins, guiding you down onto the soft pile of blankets. “Obviously. What kind of girlfriend would I be if I didn’t give my Valentine the cutest, coziest setup for our big romantic night?”

You shake your head, beaming as you settle in beside her. “You are ridiculous.”

She smirks, pressing a kiss to your shoulder before nuzzling into you. “Ridiculously in love with you, maybe.”

Your heart does a little flip, but before you can get too flustered, she’s already reaching for a tray of chocolate-covered strawberries sitting nearby. She picks one up and holds it near your lips, eyes glinting with mischief.

“Open up mama,’” she teases, barely suppressing a giggle.

You play along, opening your mouth just as she slowly—painfully slowly—brings the strawberry to your lips. But just as you’re about to take a bite, she pulls it away at the last second, grinning wickedly.

“Billie!” you protest, swatting at her playfully.

She laughs, delighted by her own antics. “Okay, okay, I’ll be nice,” she concedes, finally feeding you the strawberry properly. She watches you with amusement as you chew, eyes flicking down to your lips before she leans in and kisses the corner of your mouth, humming. “Mmm. Even sweeter on you.”

Your face burns at the compliment, and she lives for it, giggling as she pops a strawberry into her own mouth. “You’re really laying it on thick tonight,” you say, raising a brow at her.

She shrugs, all faux innocence. “What, I can’t shamelessly hype up my beautiful girlfriend on the most romantic day of the year?”

You narrow your eyes playfully. “You always hype me up.”

She gasps dramatically. “And I’ll never stop. Not when my girl is the most stunning, incredible, talented human being to ever exist.”

You groan, hiding your face in your hands. “You are so extra.”

She giggles, prying your hands away so she can pepper your face with kisses—cheeks, nose, forehead, lips—until you’re breathless from laughing. “But you love it,” she teases, her voice softer now, eyes full of adoration.

You meet her gaze, and suddenly, the playful energy shifts into something quieter, more tender. The air between you hums with warmth, and Billie reaches up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear before resting her hand on your cheek.

“I mean it,” she murmurs, her thumb tracing gentle circles against your skin. “I love you. So much. And I just… I want you to feel that. Every second of today. Every second of every day.”

Your breath catches, heart swelling at the sincerity in her voice. You cup her face in your hands, mirroring her touch, and smile softly. “I do feel it, Billie,” you whisper. ��Every day. You make sure of that.”

She exhales a happy sigh, her forehead dropping against yours. “Good,” she murmurs, her lips brushing against yours in the softest, sweetest kiss.

The rest of the night is a blur of warmth and laughter, of stolen kisses and whispered confessions. You curl up together in the fort, sharing chocolates and playing silly games, Billie making it her mission to make you blush at every opportunity.

At some point, she starts listing all the things she loves about you—your laugh, the way you scrunch your nose when you’re thinking, the way you look at her like she’s your whole world. And by the time the night winds down, and she’s lying half-asleep against your chest, her voice heavy with drowsy affection, you realize that this—this perfect, love-filled night—is all you could have ever wanted for Valentine’s Day.

And with Billie in your arms, pressing one last lazy kiss to your collarbone before whispering, “I love you, lovey,” you know you’ll remember this night forever.

[a-mx-writer]

Ok ok "OTP" is hard to define because I can never decide, but rn I'm writing Azula x Katara so that's what I'm gonna answer for (for my current WIP, answers really only apply in that context).

Content warnings: mentions (but no descriptions or graphic details) of violence, trauma, sex, torture, homophobia, prisoners of war.

Azula, definitely. She doesn't know it, but her "holy fuck she could kill me, that's so hot" moment was definitely first, even though she didn't realise it for way too long. I've planted that seed pretty early in the fic and when it paid off, it did so explosively.

More like hate at first sight, really. Though to be fair, they were both obsessed (not romantically) with different people at the time (Katara, hero worshipping Aang; Azula, bent on murdering Zuko).

Neither, see #2.

Azula, in awe of Katara's sheer raw power at bending. Katara… not sure to be honest. More like a slightly disgusted fascination with Azula's position. Both definitely into beating each other up at the dojo.

Again, "love"? Not sure. Azula is definitely impressed and weirded out by Katara's moral code. Katara, as much as she is sickened by her own reaction, is definitely getting used to Azula's leading/commanding presence and Azula's reality of absolute power.

Good question tbh! I gotta think about that one.

Hehe. Everything, really. They're coming at each other as enemies; Azula with contempt for Katara's "primitive" culture, Katara with disgust for Azula's "decadent" lifestyle and imperialist ideology.

In canon, not really. Azula has tried to kill pretty much all of Katara's friends, and Katara resents Ozai, Mai, and Ty Lee and only likes (after some hardship) Iroh and Zuko. In my fic, they haven't seen each other's family in a long time.

See #8.

Sort of. Azula kissed a guy and then burned his house down, Katara was infatuated with Aang but that never got to go anywhere before the canon divergence AU kicked in.

Absolutely not. Without spoilers or gory details, the short version is: prisoner of war, torture, murder attempts, alliance of necessity, stockholm syndrome.

They could be. They might yet. No spoilers :)

See #11 and #12

I want to say "Good in Bed" by Dua Lipa tbh. Not 100% fitting, but it's what they remind me of.

We don't really get enough music in canon to tell tbh

Katara has grown to like Fire Nation cuisine. Azula is not particularly enthusiastic about Water Tribe cuisine, but she doesn't hate it.

Extremely powerful benders, able warriors, hot-headed, strong-willed, independent, daddy issues (so far so canon), good team as fighters, good strategists, not particularly good at talking feelings (so far so fanfic)…

Tame, which is to say, I don't write smut and only do tasteful fades to black. But also, they're two women in a homophobic world figuring it out with nobody to guide them. Fill in the blanks.

All the time so far, but it's getting better.

Not at present, not when their relationship is hugely unequal and they're surrounded by homophobic politicians who want them dead.

Not really applicable from a biological standpoint. As far as adoption goes, Azula definitely doesn't.

Good question, let me think on that.

Not really in the scope of the fic, but I'll say Azula wants to be the leader but it's Katara who takes charge when it matters. How that translates to the literal definitions is left as an exercise for the reader.

Again, outside the fic scope, but I will say… in my headcanon, Azula would definitely be freaked out yet fascinated by bloodbending. That's all I'm saying. How Katara would react to it, after all the horrible stuff I've put her through over the last 80k words, I haven't thought about. But I can definitely see some inappropriate use of bending in general happen.

Yes, but I won't spoiler.

Katara observes the Water Tribes' spiritual holidays and Azula has at least developed enough respect for Katara to remember them. Azula herself isn't one for sentimentality or recreation and thinks she's above spirituality.

Not a thing in ATLA.

Yuppppppp at least one of them is. I can't go into details without getting graphic though.

They haven't had the chance. As for canon in general, I feel like Katara would and Azula wouldn't.

Not much to go off. I don't think Azula can dance, and Katara is at least shy about doing it in public, as far as canon goes; I think that fits them both.

A whole day at the dojo. Sparring and beating the crap out of each other, a nice show of physical and bending prowess and a friendly but fierce competition to see who ends up on top (figuratively or literally).

Bottle it up until one of them breaks down, followed by awkward hugs, lots of crying, and trying to maintain a facade of strength once the breakdown has subsided. Azula has to learn how to deal with hugs.

Canon, I wouldn't care to speculate. In my fic, Azula, because she's taller (Katara is shorter for POW reasons).

Again, sparring. Though after the first couple ten thousand words, there's definitely an attraction component.

I feel like canon!Azula would get insecure very easily, in the form of jealousy and misdirected anger. A healthier version of her would at least know not to take it out on others. As for my version of their story… let's just say: prison break xD

Lips, atm. They're still new to this whole showing affection thing, Azula especially, and after the hell I've put them through, they're not really big on cutesy atm. They kiss-kiss, or they don't.

Heh. Physically, no. Emotionally, so much.

I mentioned the torture?

Neither tbh. Azula is the Fire Lord, Katara has been busy being her prisoner.

Azula, definitely. She has to learn "other people have goals and are busy, too" yet; she's too used to people bending to her will.

Katara, definitely. Azula is cunning, a strategist, manipulative, very good at reading people, but we're still working on the sense of self-preservation when the best course of action goes against what she wants.

Still Katara. Azula's emotional growth has been somewhat (very) stunted by her upbringing.

Yep. In every sense of the word. It's getting better, though.

What's the PG version of ill-advised hate sex?

Canon: Azula would peek, Katara wouldn't. Fic: both would peek, but Katara would feel bad about it.

Anecdotes from their lives that start as funny stories but are actually pretty traumatic.

Show me a definition that makes sense, and I'll answer.

Katara, absolutely. Canon and fic alike.

Well uhhhh. The spoiler-free answers is yes. As for their canon versions, I don't think they would.

Both.

Idk if it's appropriate to link to the fic here or not, I don't wanna bother anyone, but if anyone wants a link, hmu (or check my profile).

Asks about your OTP

1. Who fell for the other one first?

2. Was it love at first sight?

3. Was it lust at first sight?

4. What do physical trait do they love the most about each other?

5. What personality trait do they love the most about each other?

6. What random everyday object/activity makes them think of each other?

7. What is something they’d want to change about the other if they could?

8. Do they get along with each other’s friends and family?

9. Do their friends and family like their significant other(s)?

10. Have they had romantic partners before?

11. Are they a healthy couple? If no, why not?

12. Do they have potential to be healthy if they’re usually toxic?

13. Do they have potential to be toxic if they’re usually healthy?

14. What song fits them perfectly?

15. Do they like the same music?

16. Do they like the same food?

17. What do they have in common?

18. What is their sex life like?

19. Would they ever lie to each other? Why or why not?

20. Are they interested in marriage? Why or why not?

21. Are they interested in having children? Why or why not?

22. Do you have other ships that resemble your OTP?

23. Is there top/dom and bottom/sub energy?

24. Are there any kinks or fetishes they share or don’t?

25. Are they sentimental about gifts they’ve received from each other?

26. What holidays do they like?

27. How do they feel about Valentine’s day?

28. Are they jealous/possessive of each other?

29. Do they like public display of affection?

30. Do they enjoy dancing?

31. What’s a perfect date for them?

32. How do they comfort each other?

33. Who is the big spoon and why?

34. What’s their favorite nonsexual activity together?

35. How do they deal with being away from each other for a long time?

36. What is their favorite place to kiss the other? (Cheek, hand, closed eyelid, neck, nose, etc.)

37. Have they ever hurt each other on accident?

38. Have they ever hurt each other deliberately?

39. Who gets hit on the most?

40. Who tries to distract the other when they’re trying to do something else?

41. Who is, overall, the smarter one?

42. Who is the sensible mature one?

43. Do they fight a lot?

44. How do they make up after a fight?

45. If one of them forgot to log out of their SoMe, what would their partner do?

46. How do they make each other laugh?

47. Are they extroverts/introverts?

48. Who would bring home a homeless animal?

49. Do they match outfits for special occasions?

50. Who would protect who in a dangerous situation?

[l0s3rd0wnt0wn]

"ONE STEP TWO STEP THREE STEP OW!"

Synopsis: Young weird Neglected black!reader can't waltz and Bruce won't dance with you but Mr. Oliver Queen can teach you a few moves

You love galas, like really, really love galas: the architecture of the buildings, which could look Roman or Victorian; the bright chandeliers that glimmer like little stars; the intricate details on every piece of furniture and wall-to-door; the gold accents and trim. It's all just perfect. It feels like you're a princess on a special stage, like you're in a musical and you're the lead star, ready to burst into song after only two lines and do a comedic dance number. The men and women dressed elegantly, with jewels and watches from their great-great-grandparents that they took for granted, replacing heirlooms like loose change. Speaking in posh accents over champagne, they talked about their trips around the world or petty politics, using big words they never used before. It just makes you giggle, but you loved nothing more than the band's music. You'd clap after every performance, and the composer would always take a bow for you. But the thing you loved most of all was the dancing—how the women's dresses would sway as they waltzed and how the men would spin the ladies around adoringly. It was like you were living in the movie Anastasia. And you wanted to dance, to move like them, but you never knew how. It's only been a couple of months since you were integrated into this aristocratic lifestyle, and yet you know every little. Alfred tried to teach you everything there was to being classy, but the old man was far too busy teaching the boys how to behave at galas, so you had to work it out on your own. Alfred taught you a few waltz steps, but not the whole thing, so when it came to dancing, you were hopeless, like a duckling with feet too big for its body. But when the announcer at the gala told the fathers to dance with their daughters, you thought this was your shot—your shot to dance with Bruce, for him to teach you the moves, for you two to bond like you were meant to. I mean, you are his little girl; he should be running to you right about now, ready to put your little feet on top of his as he guides you and teaches you how to waltz. But Bruce doesn't show up. You looked around to see that every little girl and older girl was holding her dad's hand, stepping on his toes, and twirling around like princesses, except you. Everyone had a partner except you. You pushed past the happy fathers and daughters to find him, only to see that he had picked someone else. He was doing the waltz with Cass; they were laughing as she struggled to grasp the steps. You couldn't hear what they were saying due to the chatter of the room, but you knew they were having the time of their lives. But that didn't bother you; you would just wait for your turn, like a kid on a swing set watching the other kids take their merry-old-time. You can just wait and wait and wait, staring at the two. They looked so happy and energetic. You wouldn't lie; you were a tad bit jealous. I mean, you were younger than Cass; you were his little girl; you should have had that dance, not her. But jealousy wouldn't take you anywhere; you just had to wait your turn. They almost looked related; maybe it was the dark black hair or the pale skin. You looked at yourself and began to feel like an outcast. You nervously fixed your dress, pulling at the purple frills. Almost everyone in the blow room was white. Maybe Bruce just didn't want to be seen with you; maybe he was embarrassed. You shook your head— that couldn’t be the reason. Don’t be stupid; just be patient. Yeah, that's right—patient. You can be patient. But as you watched Cass lean her head on his shoulder, it should be you. You saw Bruce place his chin on her hair, and if you weren't jealous before, you certainly were now. You waited long enough, so you walked up to them and tugged on Bruce's suit.

"Hey," you squeaked, your voice sounding like a mouse. You started to fiddle with your fingers.

"I was waiting a bit, and I wanted to know if I could dance with you," you mumbled gently. He looked down at you; blue eyes shining like bright diamonds.

"Not right now, [Name]." He dismissed you like a secretary at Wayne Enterprises.

"But it's a father-daughter dance, and I've been waiting for a while now." Your voice trembled, and you started to feel yourself get angry.

"[Name], you're starting to act childish," he whispered. When he whispered like that, he was trying to hide his anger.

"But I've been waiting for an hour; it's just not fair," You saw him glare at you and stopped talking. You felt yourself shrink, getting smaller and smaller, but you weren't shrinking; you were just getting scared.

You stormed off walking right out the gala you felt angry furious even then you felt a familiar clench in your throat it was strong so very strong it made you want to cough you knew thar feeling better then anyone else you were going to cry so sat you sat on the pearly white steps and let those baby tears flow then you felt a rough hand on your shoulder you yelped out in fear and you swiftly moved away looking up from the ground to see a tall blonde hair man with bright emerald green eyes

"Hey, I don't bite," he chuckled, standing tall in front of you. You still kept your distance and sat down on the steps.

"So why are you out here all alone while everyone's having fun?" he said with a soft smile. You wiped your face and puffed out your chest, trying to look tough, but you were just a girl, and plus, he was a stranger. You shouldn't talk to strangers, but you were lonely, and your "dad" would rather dance with Cass than you.

"I was supposed to have a daddy-daughter dance with my dad, but he's too busy dancing with my older sister," you sniffled, grumbling just a little.

"Oh, you want to dance? Don't you think it's a bit silly?" he asked, and it made you frown.

"It's not silly!" You raised your voice, then lowered it to a whisper.

"It's lovely—the music, the fancy steps. It's all just lovely, like being in a movie," you explained, hugging your knees to your chest.

"Tonight, he was going to teach me how to waltz," you huffed. You heard the blonde man chuckle. How dare he make fun of you! You were about to let out a mean quip when he spoke.

"You can't waltz?" he said, holding back a chuckle and covering his mouth with a hand that looked calloused and rough, as if he'd been hitting drywall.

"Don't laugh!" you whined, annoyed.

"I'm not; it's just super easy to do," the older man said with a smirk.

"Well, I wouldn't know; I've never done it before." You felt a pout coming, and you quickly tried to hide it.

"Wait, you've never waltzed before?" he said, looking at you confusedly. Someone of your status should at least know the basics.

"Never" you answered

"Never ever?"

"Never in history." You felt yourself wanting to cry. Then he smiled down at you and stood up.

"Come on, I'll teach you. There are no perks to being a wallflower." His hands reached out, and you saw the little scars on his hand. With nothing better to do, you took his, and he led you back into the gala. He held your hand and hip gently.

"All you have to do is step in the square," he intruded, and you followed his steps from down to side, to up, and side to down again. Then he twirled you around, making you giggle. You felt like a princess, finally, until you stepped on his foot. He winced, and it made you snort. He gave you a fake glare, the older man smirking.

"You never told me your name?"

"You never told me yours?" he said, and you glared at him.

"I'm [Name], [Name] Wayne," you answered confidently.

"A Wayne?" he said, shocked.

"What's wrong with being a Wayne?" You huffed.

"Nothing. I don't get along with Wayne very well; they tend to get on my nerves," he admitted with a sigh.

"Tell me about it," you agreed.

"Anyway, I'm Oliver Queen's friend. Call me Ollie, and your dad calls me a bastard," and you laughed.

"Nice to meet you, Ollie," you smiled up at him gently. You wondered if you should switch dads like playing cards. Little did you know, Bruce was in the corner seething at the sight of Ollie making you laugh and giggle and twirling you around. He almost broke his champagne glass. He didn't want to cause a scene, but he was close to crashing out and having it be posted on Twitter. He was searching for you, ready to apologize and give you your dance, but there you were, letting someone like Oliver have the dance. He'll make sure to deal with that blonde later.

[stollengoods]

Fine, Let’s Play Dirty.

Thanos x Fem! Reader

REQ. Thanos Smut

Warnings: Cursing, fighting, & smut

Summary: “… And I’ll make her my bitch. She’ll love it.” Was the last thing Myung-gi heard as he tried but failed to hit Thanos. He Then saw stars before his vision went completely black as Thanos had successfully planted a punch to the right side of his face. Afterwards Myung-gi didn’t think too much into what Thanos had said, he figured he was just blowing smoke but should’ve realized what Thanos had told him was a warning. He’s coming for y/n.

————

“Hola, señorita.”

You turned around to see Thanos behind you. “Sorry, no hablo español.” You grunted, walking past him.

He let out a chuckle as he turned on his heel to follow you, “That’s okay, baby.” He replied in English, “I speak numero tres languages.”

You turned around crossing your arms and watched as both of his hands held up three fingers with different colored fingernails on each.

You blew out a breath, “What do you want Thanos ?”

His hands went to his chest as he stepped closer to you, “Hey hey baby, why so hostile ?” He asked with a voice full of concern.

You glanced up and down at him not even trying to hide the disgusted look on your face, as you took a step back.

“It’s your bitch of a boyfriend, huh ?”

You rolled your eyes and bit your lip to suppress a laugh, you knew it would only encourage him more.

“Mmm.” He hummed, waggling his finger at you, “I’ve seem to have strike a nerve.”

“You didn’t strike shit.” You spat and his eyes widened in surprise.

The venom in your tone even shocked you but you continued on, “-He’s not my boyfriend, not that it’s any of your business.” You mumbled the last part under your breathe.

“-And stop calling me baby, I don’t know you dude.”

You thought about walking away, but his reaction to you not only confused you but intrigued you. His posture seemed more cocky than before as he leaned against one of the bed polls beside him.

“Señorita, you don’t know me ?” He sneered, “Your lil boyfriend told me other wise.”

You tilted your head calling his bluff and he continued, “He said you fucked with my music.”

You laughed, licking your lips in nervousness, “Why would he say that, he hates you.”

That made Thanos smile, “He told me that you would play my music in the car and he didn’t understand why because to him it sounded like shit.” He shrugged his shoulders, “I guess he considered that an insult but I didn’t.”

You felt your cheeks burn, “I liked a few songs…” You confessed, not looking him in the eyes, “Like one or two, I wasn’t a fan or anything.” Your voice sounded pathetic even to you.

His index finger and thumb pinched your chin making you look up at him, “You don’t seem to be much of a fan of your boyfriend either.”

You squinted your eyes, “Again not my boyfriend.” You corrected, ripping your chin out of his grip, “And no I’m not the biggest fan of him… You’re not the only one who got financially screwed here.”

His eyebrows narrowed, “Wait. He had you invest in his shit-coin too ?”

“Yes.”

He scoffed, “What a dick sucker.”

“You’re telling me.” You mumbled under your breath.

“That’s the main reason I came over here.” Thanos explained, “I frequently see you guys arguing… I figured it was just relationship drama, but now I know why. It’s ’cause you’re one of us.”

You raised an eyebrow, “One of who ?”

“One of the people that shit-face scammed.” He scorned, “I thought he only did it to strangers on the internet but your telling me he did it to the people he loved too ? That’s just foul.”

You weren’t buying any of Thanos’s sympathy, “Why did you really come over to talk to me ?”

Thanos smirked, realizing you weren’t falling for his charade. “Okay, fine.” He raised his palms up, “You got me.”

Your eyes glared at him as he continued, “I can beat your boyfriend up all day long, okay ? It’s easy and getting kind of boring if I’m being honest.”

“I’m so sorry.” You monotoned.

He smiled, “It’s not your fault sweetheart.” He retorted and you rolled your eyes. “Anyways, I was thinking of ways I could mentally torture him and what’s better than getting with his girl ?”

Your mouth was agape as you took in what he was saying, “You know with every word that comes out of your mouth, you’re sounding more and more like a psychopath.” You commented.

He tilted his head with a gleam in his eyes, “C’mon baby…” He said, “You’re telling me you haven’t wanted to torture him both mentally and physically ever since he ruined your life ? Don’t lie.”

You made eye contact with him, “I’ve thought about it yes, but I would never actually-“

“Why not ?”

You shook your head, “Beacuse- I’m- I’m just not that type of person.”

Thanos sniggered, “Were all complex creatures y/n.”

“Yes, but there’s a clear difference between good and bad people.”

“Is there ?” He pouted, “I’m sure you didn’t think your boyfriend would tell you to invest in something only to take all your money away.”

You pursed your lips as you put your hands on your hips and looked away in slight embarrassment.

“What category would he fall under ?” He asked.

————

That’s how Thanos got you making out with him against the men’s restroom wall. You couldn’t argue with him, even tho you didn’t think that highly of him in the education department, he sure knew how to talk his way out of things or in this case into things.

Your hands tangled in his hair as you two breathlessly made out with each other. You couldn’t lie, kissing your ex boyfriend’s enemy did spike your arousal a bit.

Thanos pulled away, scanning your face, “Are you okay to continue ?”

You glowered at him, “Please drop the nice guy act.”

He didn’t smile or laugh, “I’m serious, I don’t mind fucking with assholes like Myung-gi but I never want to take advantage of women. Only pathetic pussy’s do that shit.”

You starred at him for a bit, trying to find any hint of deceit and when you saw that he was being completely sincere you almost wanted to jump his bones. You stopped yourself tho, not wanting to give him a bigger head than he already had.

“Yeah.” You nodded, “I’m fine.”

He leaned in re-attaching your lips to his, you decided to be a bit bold and slipped your hand underneath his pants, past his underwear to his cock. He twitched in your hand and that made you smirk into the kiss.

Not only was he big but very girthy, your mouth watered as you pictured him inside of you, stretching your walls. You used your other hand to guide his hand under the hem of your shirt. He got the hint from there and massaged your boob while he discounted his lips from yours to suck hickeys on your neck.

You reached your hand up to your mouth, spitting in it to then wrap your hand around his cock, stroking him this time.

“Ahh- fuck- Thanos.” You whined as he nipped at your neck, “Why are you biting so hard ?”

“I want to make sure he sees what I’ve done to you. If he doesn’t then what’s the point ?”

“So I’m just a pawn then ?”

He chuckled which tickled your neck, “Don’t act like you’re not using me as well.”

“Shut the fuck up.” You breathed.

“Make me.” He retorted.

You pushed him back so he was now facing you, “Do you want to fuck me or not ?”

“Of course, who wouldn’t ?” He smirked and god did you want his smart-ass to shut up.

A smile formed on your lips as you thought of a way you could make him shut up for once. “Get on your knees.” You commanded.

To your surprise he sunk down to his knees without hesitation. He peered up at you as if waiting for your next order. “Take off my pants.”

He hooked his fingers in your waist band and dragged them down. You kicked them off to the side as Thanos was about to take off your underwear as well. Your hand went to his hair and you yanked a fist full of it to the side.

“Ahh-“ Thanos grunted, his hands resting over yours on his head.

“Did I say you could take off my underwear ?” You cooed.

You released his hair as he looked up at you with a mixture of confusion and anger. You felt your arousal build being able to take control of a man who could easily dominate you.

“You can take them off now.”

He blinked his eyes a couple of times before doing as told. His eyes glazed over as he saw a string of your arousal disconnect from your underwear and drip onto the floor.

Once your underwear sunk to the ground, you kicked them away. Thanos’s hands gripped your thighs as he starred longingly at your soaked pussy.

“What are you waiting for ?” You cooed, looking down at him as he made eye contact with you.

“You’re permission.” His hands gripped your thighs as he looked back at your pussy, unconsciously licking his lips.

“That’s a good boy.” You smiled, reaching your hand down you used your index finger and thumb to pinch his chin like he did to you earlier. You brought his face closer until his lips touched your heat.

“Go ahead.”

Even though you were expecting his tongue in you, your body still jolted against the wall in a lovely surprise. His hands held a firm grip on your thighs as they already began to shake.

You couldn’t help the moans that escaped your lips, the world around you fading away as all you could focus on was his soft lips kissing your clit and then periodically his tongue would lick your slit.

And just when you were about to hit your peak, he stalled the movements of his mouth. You were too much in a daze to notice until he stood up, hovering over you.

“Did I say you could stop ?” You rebuked.

He suddenly cupped the side of your face and pulled you into a very needy kiss. You tasted your juices on his lips and tongue as his hand reached down to circle your clit with his fingers.

“Listen here Señorita-“ His voice was husky and deeper than usual, “I don’t mind letting you take control every now and then but with me, control is going to be 50/50 you understand ?”

You tried responding to him, you really did but all you could muster were moans at the moment. His other hand that wasn’t occupied, grabbed your throat.

“Do you understand ?”

You frantically nodded your head, “Y-yes sir.” You squeaked out.

He smirked, “Sir ? I like that.”

He released your throat and your hands instinctively went up to it as you gasped for air. He placed his hand on your shoulder and shoved you to the floor. Your knees hit the ground first, your hands catching you before any of your upper body fell to the floor.

You were breathing really heavy now, due to the adrenaline rush. He was being very aggressive and you knew you should probably leave but for some reason you liked it. All your nerves were on edge as your body was in fight or flight right now, but all you wanted to do was fuck him.

You looked up at him, from were you were he looked like a giant.

“You know what to do.”

You gulped, before crawling forward and sitting up to pull down his pants along with his underwear. He was huge, if you had to guess 7-8 inches and you were both aroused and scared imagining him inside you.

You wrapped your hand around his base and licked the pre-cum off of his tip. A low moan escaped his lips as his hand laid on the back of your head. You licked your lips, feeling his lack of patience and took his cock into your mouth.

————

Nam-gyu saw you leave with Thanos earlier to the bathroom. And when he saw Myung-gi asking one of the guards to use the restroom he jogged up to them saying he had to use the bathroom as well.

Myung-gi didn’t say anything but gave him the stink eye. Nam-gyu just smiled in return as he followed after them. The guard stopped right outside the bathroom door as they both went inside.

When the door shut, Nam-gyu’s sweater paws covered his mouth in both awe and shock. He knew that you guys were going to hook up but he figured y’all would be in a stall; not out in the open to where just anyone can walk in and see.

His eyes flicked over to Myung-gi who’s fist were clenched and Nam-gyu acted quickly. Grabbing him from behind he put a hand over his mouth and dragged him back.

Thanos was admiring how well you were suck his cock when he heard some commotion and looked up to see Myung-gi trying to charge forward at him but Nam-gyu held him back.

Thanos smiled at him, giving him the finger before yanking you off his cock and pulling you up by your hair. He quickly flipped you around, your back against the wall as he lifted you up. You wrapped your legs around him and he turned to the side to drop you off in the sink.

You pulled him into a kiss, spreading your legs further for him to get better access.

“You want it, y/n ?” He breathed as he took his dick into his hand lining it up with your entrance.

“Yes~” You whined, “Please baby.”

His smile reached his eyes at your pet name, “Baby ? I thought you didn’t know me ?” He mocked and you weakly slapped his chest.

“Fuck- Thanos- please just shut up and fuck me !”

With that he rammed himself into you, moan after moan leaving your mouth as his pace was relentless once he was fully inside you.

Nam-gyu chuckled as he felt Myung-gi really trying to free himself from his grasp now. “Hey hey hey…” Nam-gyu cooed into his ear as your moans echoed off the walls.

Myung-gi muffled something into his hand that Nam-gyu couldn’t quite understand except for a few curse words that Myung-gi empathized.

He tsked into his ear, “You like watching your bitch get fucked, huh ? You fucking cuck.”

Myung-gi then bit the inside of Nam-guy’s hand, “Aish ! You fucking-“ He retracted his hands and Myung-gi charged towards Thanos.

He reached up to yank a fist full of Thanos’s hair back. Thanos hissed and cursed under his breath as he pulled out of you. You whimpered trying to grasp at him as he turned around.

You saw as Thanos threw a punch and hit somebody in front of him. You gasped not realizing anyone else was in here.

“Hey man, I tried holding him back as much as I could-“

You screamed as you saw Nam-gyu approach Thanos, frantically trying to cover up your lower half.

Nam-gyu flinched back at your outburst giving you the side eye, “Don’t flatter yourself sweetie.” He rejoinder.

You hopped off the sink and quickly gathered your clothes. While slipping them on you recognized the person on the floor to be your ex.

“What happened ?” You asked them as you kneeled down in front of him.

Thanos smirked, “He watched his girl become mine.”

You stood up, standing next to Thanos, “I am not your girl.”

“Oh really, baby ?” He mocked.

You rolled your eyes, “Fuck you.”

He chuckled, “You just did. You trying for round two ?” He gestured back towards the sink with his hand.

You glared at him but couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face. “Not if that freak is watching us again.” You said sneering at Nam-gyu.

“I only came to see the look on Myung-gi’s face when he sees his girlfriend getting dick down by another man.” He crossed his arms, “So fuck off.”

Thanos laughed, “Guys chill.”

Nam-gyu sighed heavily and you nodded your head.

“Is he dead ?” You asked, half-serious.

Nam-gyu kicked his leg, “Probably.”

Thanos waved his hand dismissively, “No, he’s just knocked out, he’ll wake up in a few minutes.”

“When we were leaving they announced dinner was going to be soon, you guys hungry ?” Nam-gyu said, tucking his hair behind his ears.

You looked over at Thanos and he raised his eyebrows at you.

“Yeah I could eat.” You shrugged.

“Alright, then let’s get the fuck out of here.” Thanos replied and Nam-gyu hollered as he kicked Myung-gi in his side and skipped out of the bathroom following you and Thanos.

————

(A/N): This was all over the place but fun to write lol

[softspiderling]

✦ . * ocean blue eyes pt. XVIII

pairing: rafe cameron x reader

author’s note: sit yo asses down and buckle up

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

────────────

liked by rafe, sarahcam, cleogriffith and 2.038.127 others

youruser it feels so special to me that the person who inspired the song agreed to be in the music video 🥹 SURPRISE! tie me down music video is out NOW, stream the song everywhere ❤️

view all 6.531 comments

princessyn THE SICKEST HARD LAUNCH IN THE HISTORY OF HARD LAUNCHES

rafe in my acting era

❤️ liked by youruser

➞ rafe did i say that right?

↳ youruser yes 😭😭

kiecarerra this ate😫😫

kiecarerra did rafe have a stunt double for his bike scenes? lol

➞ rafe no

➞ youruser yes

↳ rafe baby

whationlylistentoyn yn is trying to kill us all😭😭😭 a new song, mv AND boyfriend in the span of a day😭😭

prettylittleyn has someone checked on jj

sarahcam eurghhhhhh why are you smooching my brother in public ewwww

➞ youruser you’re being dramatic 😭

sarahcam anyways sick video, i love it i love you stop kissing my brother

❤️ liked by rafe, youruser and johnbroutledge

ynsbaby god i’ve seen what you’ve done for others

sunburninmiami can rafe fight?

➞ princessyn ask JJ

onlyrafe IM😭SO😭HAPPY😭FOR😭YOU😭

cleogriffith rafe in a yn music video before me is a blasphemy but ig you’re pretty cute

➞ youruser it’ll be your turn sooooon❤️❤️

liked by youruser, topperthorntonofficial, barrysphotobooth and 1.322.987 others

rafe i’m so proud of you, baby. thank you for letting me be part of your amazing work, you’re really the only person who could convince me to play a bad boy🙄 i love you my superstar ❤️ tie me down out everywhere!

view all 5.299 comments

jjsandrafes i’m not crying, you’re crying 😭

rafe247 NOOOOOOOOOOOOO

topperthorntonofficial finally! it was awful keeping this on the dl

➞ sarahcam on the dl? don’t make me laugh

princessyn @rafesgf is being real quiet

➞ allaboutrafe let her lick her wounds in peace lmfaooo

↳ princessyn no ❤️

rafescameron if you zoom in, you can see me crying in the background

barrysphotobooth yesssss that’s what i’m talking about!! 😁😁

rafesstar BABY😭😭

────────────

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liked by rafeupdates, princessyn, ynbrazil and 1.387 others

ynrafeupdates rafe and yn in her newest music video for tie me down

view all 2.199 comments

ynandsarah alexa play that should be me

princessyn i TOLD yall

ynsgf it’s so sickening seeing other people live your dream

abrmsyn god i love them

rafefan idk if i wanna be rafe or yn

────────────

liked by rafe, sarahcam, sabrinacarpenter and 2.942.398 others

youruser so thrilled to announce that my new album golden hour will be out feb 28th! this album is so dear to me and I'm so incredibly proud. I can't wait for you to hear it!

📸: @popeheywardphotography

view all 5.371 comments

rafe proud of you baby

➞ youruser stop you're gonna make me cry

sabrinacarpenter yes queen!!

➞ youruser you!!!

ynswift pope ATE

emptyapartment4you prepare to be sick of me

sarahcam you don't even KNOW what you're in for folks

kiecarerra FINALLY

➞ youruser STOP 😭

cleogriffith my favorite collab

➞ youruser ily

sunburninmiami petition for pope to shoot every single album cover from now on bc holy shit

ynsbaby FOAMING AT THE MOUTH

princessyn my twt is gonna BE SPAMMED

allhailyn you don't know how long I have been waiting for this

────────────

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

author's note: thoughts????

[604to647]

Crawling Back to You (Dieter’s Version)

3.7K / Dieter Bravo x fem!reader

Summary: A moment of weakness could lead to lifetime of regret unless Dieter can set things right with you.

Warnings: Angst, pining. Mention of drug use. Reader has a purposefully vague production/behind the scenes job because I don't know anything about movie production. Eventual HEA. One Friends reference - see if you can find it 😉

A/N: This was written for @happypedrohours’ Bouquets of Pedro Challenge. My Valentine’s prompt for Dieter was PDA. I’ve never written for Dieter before! I know he’s a chaos gremlin (affectionate), but I really like fics I read of him where he just wants to be loved? So, that's the Dieter that I wrote - I hope it's okay 🥹 (Sorry if he’s too OOC 😭) Musical inspiration is Hozier's cover of Artic Monkey's "Do I Wanna Know."

Dividers by @saradika-graphics / Many thanks to @morallyinept for your character and dialogue database to help me try and get into a Bravo state of mind 😘

He considers doing something big and splashy, of course.  And public - very, very public.  Afterall, not being P with his DAs had been what tore the two of you apart. 

Well, part of it, anyways.

Double-paged feature in Variety.  Highway billboards with matching ads on the side of buses.  Live poetry reading on the big screens in Time Square.

But all of that would be very old Dieter Bravo of him and he was no longer that man - in large part because of you, for you.

Dieter had met you many, many moons ago.  Always a friendly face on whatever set or industry event it was where you might cross paths, the two of you had gone from familiar acquaintances, to friends, to someone the other actively sought out for good company or shelter when the bright lights got too hot, the clamouring crowds too loud.

When you first met, Dieter thought you must be an actress - you were too beautiful, too captivating not to be onscreen.  But while you did have a few extra credits to your name, he soon learned that your ambition lay behind the camera.  He remembers the first time he heard your melodic voice ring out across set - like a drunken sailor to a siren’s call, he followed it without question in a semi lucid state (Hey! What’s a little marijuana between a movie star and the teamsters?).  But upon the lifting of his fog, Dieter found not his destruction, but salvation: a sympathetic ally on set, someone with whom he could be a team – a calm in the chaotic storm that was most movie productions,

You worked hard at learning and mastering your trade, and your keen eye and intuitive sense for movie making sang your merits louder than that hypnotic voice of yours that first drew Dieter (and others) to you; that you were easy to get along with and impossible to say no to was no small feat in this business – especially for a woman.  Dieter watched as you dogged forward, paying your dues and solidifying your reputation and resume – whenever he hears your name being bantered about behind the doors of Hollywood’s most coveted meetings, he feels only excessive pride.  He would tell you himself if you were speaking to him. 

Dieter still remembers the night when the two of you crossed that unspoken line for the first time; even now he’s not sure what he would have done if Cupid hadn’t been on his side.  There had been some studio gala, nothing special – or so he thought.  Slipping away from the endless shmoozing and sycophantic hoards that tend to overrun these gatherings, Dieter escaped through the catering entrance in search of some obliging venue service staff (Hollywood hot tip: the wait staff always have the best drugs!).  Instead, he had found you - sitting on a table pushed to the side of the corridor, fancy ballgown fanned out, eating popsicles, legs swinging without a care in the world.

“Dieter!” your cheer was infectious, your smile mischievous and joyful, “I didn’t care for any of those tiny finger desserts they had going out on the trays so I asked the wait staff what they kept in the back for dessert and they gave me a whole box!”  His search for extracurriculars forgotten, Dieter happily joined you, choosing instead to get drunk on your pretty face, happy chatter, and the completely innocent yet salacious way your mouth worked that frozen treat.

About three popsicles in (each) the icy desserts began melting – you managed to save yourself and finish yours just in time, but Dieter’s blue-raspberry concoction was rapidly disintegrating and about to make a guaranteed mess of his dress pants when your hands darted out, catching the slush midair.

Dieter cackled, marveling at your wide-eyed expression and hands, now wet, sticky and blue, “What did you do that for?”

“I don’t know," you crowed, eyes crinkling, still holding your cupped hands out in front of you, "I just didn’t want them to make some kind of 'blue balls' joke about you and your stained crotch in the tabloids tomorrow!”

He clasped his clean hand in yours, adhering himself to you in more ways than one - the two of you giggling and giddy as you re-entered the ballroom.  After finding a free table, some clean napkins and a pitcher of water, you sat as Dieter lovingly washed and cleaned your hands so that they wouldn’t be stained with Blue Dye #1.  He was on his knees, drying and holding your small delicate hands in his much rougher, clumsier ones, when he happened to look up to see you gazing adoringly down at him, eyes grateful and looking at him like he was hanging the moon for you.

Dieter lifted up and unable to help himself, connected his lips to yours – hoping against hope that he wasn’t ruining one of the few precious, genuine connections in his life.  His relief was soon overtaken by desire when you kissed him back – the two of you somehow managing to make your way back to the service hallways, lips crashing together over and over like unstoppable waves of an inevitable ocean.  The kisses were sensual and messy, pure and happy – it made Dieter feel like a teenager again. 

“Is this weird?” he whispered at one point - vulnerable, no bravado.

“Yeah, it’s weird,” you breathed, though your voice was soft, your touch reassuring, “but don’t stop.”  So, he didn’t.  He kissed your lips swollen, pressing you up against the wall and succumbing to the intoxication of your pretty noises and tender affection. 

Nothing else happened that night, and in fact, you had run away!  After getting a text that your friend was currently giving birth, you rushed off to the hospital like Cinderella, ballgown skirts gathered in your careful hands while darting away in the night.  Dieter, dazed and higher than he’s even felt, caught the kiss you blew him, and while pressing it to his slackened, blissed out face, vowed to become your Prince Charming.

He found you on set the following Monday and for the first time in a long time, Dieter Bravo, famously chill Cool Dude™ had felt shy, nervous.  He needn’t have been – you responded to his earnestness with sweet generosity, only ever honest and non-pretentious; it was clear that for the both of you, there was no going back to just friends. 

The rest as they say, was history. 

Except being with you felt completely new to Dieter – for the first time in a long time, maybe ever, he looked forward to waking up to the start of each day, genuinely excited for its possibilities, and even more to coming home every night, grateful for the newfound comfort of life’s simple pleasures.

Grateful, yes.  If there was one thing Dieter wishes he could tell you it’s how grateful he is for you.  While you were blazing your own path to success, you had also helped him redefine his - believing in and supporting the seemingly unflappable Dieter Bravo when he admitted to wanting more.  Hollywood’s unbothered bro, Tinseltown’s perpetually aflame trainwreck darling was capable of and itching for growth, who knew?  You did.

You read scripts with him and talked through his needs and ambitions; finally having a sounding board with no self-serving stake in the financial success of his career choices, Dieter began choosing increasingly more varied and interesting projects with your encouragement and support.  He’s happier now, more fulfilled, challenged, engaged.

And he got sober (Well, he still drinks, but that doesn’t really count, right?  It’s Hollywood).  Detox had been a fucking nightmare but Dieter likes the voices in his head now.  They’re gentler with him, more forgiving, thoughtful.  They sound like you.

Dieter loved you so much, he wanted to climb to the top of the Hollywood sign and shout it all the way across the Pacific; he thought a love such as yours was limitless.

His publicists discouraged it.  The world loved the Dieter they knew: eccentric, sex-crazed, tabloid staple, a spectacle.  They weren’t interested in another middle-aged actor trying too hard to be taken seriously, who had seemingly left his wild days behind for a boring, stable relationship with a non-celebrity.  The public wanted ✨salaciousness✨glitz✨scandal✨.

You had gone along with keeping your relationship hidden, valuing your privacy and preferring to keep the sacredness of your love for one another only.  “I love you, Dieter,” you vowed, “I don’t need everyone to know it, but I don’t ever want to feel like your dirty little secret, okay?”

He promised you without really understanding what that meant.

Your relationship blossomed behind closed doors.  Both of you walked red carpets alone, careful not to get papped together, and on sets, remained cordial and professional until you got behind Dieter’s closed trailer doors where his affection for you knew no bounds, even when contained.  You would tell each other that your love wasn’t a secret, it was private, protected and kept safe from the prying and critical eyes of the public.

When his PR team arranged a fake relationship with the young and upcoming nepo baby starlet with whom he acted opposite in his latest movie as a means to promote the film, Dieter had reservations.  But he hadn’t said no. 

And after several long and serious conversations with his management about his fading relevancy and the exposure that the arrangement would net him, the starlet, the film, Dieter eventually relented and agreed to go along with it.  It seems that fame was the one drug that he hadn’t quite kicked. 

Dieter will never forget the look on your face when he brought up the PR campaign – the way your eyes crinkled in disappointment and the curve of your pretty lips pulling down your entire face haunts him every night. 

“What happens to your real girlfriend when you’re out with your fake girlfriend, Dieter?”

He couldn’t even bring himself to ask you to wait, or stay by his side, but hidden.  It was beneath you, insulting.  And to ask was to break his promise.

Turns out he didn’t even need to ask for you to feel the full weight of his betrayal.

The last words he ever spoke to you had been uttered pathetically to the front door you shut in his face, “Baby, maybe I can fix it.  Let me try.”  Their only registered response was the sound of your sobs getting softer and softer as you walked away, shutting the doors in the house he could no longer call home.

He hadn’t been able to fix it.  By design, Hollywood’s PR machine is a force, the joint efforts of Dieter and the starlet’s teams a runaway train.  Their “relationship” had been Page Six news before Dieter even had the chance to call his publicist to say that he couldn’t go through with it.  The public ate it all up just as predicted:

Dieter Bravo, Hollywood Chaos Prince back at it again, charming and capturing the heart of Tinseltown’s newest princess.

His mind swims of you.  During every press tour interview he does with his pretend girlfriend, Dieter cringes at the fake touches and gestures of affection choreographed for the cameras; all the scripted flirting and empty terms of endearment taste like acid on his tongue (and not the good kind either).  But none of this compares to the shame he feels at having hurt you, the owner of his heart, and that he likely continues to do so with every orchestrated date night photo-op for TMZ, every “happy couple” glambot he poses for on the red carpet.

Dieter finally sees you again six months into his fake relationship.

At the MTV Movie Awards, he’s waiting for the starlet to finish her solo shots, rubbing his temple at the too bright lights, the garish and loud décor, the music that doesn’t even sound like music, when he sees you stroll in on the arm of a man he doesn’t recognize.  But Dieter couldn’t care less who the man is - it’s you he can’t look away from; you’re laughing, radiant, soft.  Unchanged.  Ethereal. 

Dieter thinks he might vomit.  He thinks he might need to do a line.  He can’t let you see him.

Without excusing himself, Dieter leaves the red carpet and locks himself in a bathroom, trying to push down his bubbling panic attack.  He knows his “girlfriend” is probably beside herself, and that his unexplained absence is likely giving rise to new rumours and speculation that he’s on some kind of drug-fuelled spiral, but he can’t bring himself to come out.

Someone slips a KitKat under the door of the bathroom. 

Dieter knows it’s you; only you would be so subtle, so gentle, so reassuring with one simple gesture.  Only you know him and what brings him the most comfort.  He picks up the chocolate bar and stares at it for a while before biting into it, thinking about how he got himself into this mess.

A moment weakness.  A lifetime of regret.

Not if Dieter could help it.

He “breaks up” with the starlet the following week; it would have been handled even sooner if he didn’t have to fight and threaten to fire his entire team, eventually dragging in Legal to help him break the marketing contract he had unknowingly signed in blood.

Immediately Dieter starts planning how he will make things up to you, beg for another chance – apologize; drafting and discarding every over-the-top gesture that pops into his buzzing mind, each more theatrical and outlandish than the last.

He finally settles on a letter – one that Dieter can’t stop writing after he starts and ends up being eighteen pages (front and back).  It begins with an apology – for having hurt you so callously, for breaking his promise to you, and for, even if only a second, ever making you feel like you weren’t important or enough.  Especially when it was his own bruised ego that had needed the stroking – this entire disaster a result of his own weakness, born from a dark place inside where he had been made small by an industry that thrived on the insecurities of its so-called stars, and Dieter’s fear of feeling even smaller.  You made him feel so good while the two of you had been together, he naively thought that your light had eradicated all such voids and pits within him – but it was unfair to heap the responsibility of his growth and self improvement onto you.  And though he knows that he still has work to do, he credits your influence and compassion for the progress he’s made so far.  Around page six of the letter Dieter’s Sorrys transition into Thank Yous. 

Dieter thanks you for every way you’ve made him a better man, made him want to be a better man.  He thanks you for all the times your unparalleled support, kindness, and generosity have gotten him through the day on set, or through his self doubts at night.  Words of gratitude overflow from his pen, pouring out nearly faster than he can write – you, you, you.  He’s thankful for you.

And he misses you.  And not just all the ways you meshed your gentle life with the squishy bits of his, but just you.  Your sweet laugh.  The crinkle of your nose and the watering of your eyes at his farts sarcastic jokes.  And your mouth.  Great Paul Newman, he’s always been obsessed with your mouth – and not just what he knows it can do and how it tastes, but everything that comes out of it.  Dieter could listen to you talk about anything for hours – he might not know a single thing about what you’re talking about, but he understands eloquence, passion, and the artistry of words when he hears it.  Having spent most of his adult life around industry blowhards, Dieter knows that intelligence without pretension is a rarity - fresh air that he longs to breathe in again. 

On page twelve, Dieter tells you he loves you - loves you for everything you are and what you stand for.  He loves how you’ve remained gentle, even though the business of show makes it its mission to sharpen everyone and everything it swallows.  He loves that your default is always thoughtfulness and compassion, that you embody a quiet type of beauty that doesn’t need to be paraded about or loudly lauded in order to shine.  How do you make even the mundane so fascinating?  It must be that confident grace of yours.  Dieter writes an entire two pages on how he just wants to watch you wash dishes again – he tries to describe the meditative calm that comes just from seeing the soapy water bow to your whim, as if it knows the power and majesty of its bender; understanding as he does now the magnanimity it takes to ensure that no small movement is wasted, to make every action purposeful.  He’s enraptured by you.  Admires you. Worships you.  So, so in love with you.

He reads the letter over a hundred times before tying the folded pages together with a bright red bow.  Using his Bravo charm, Dieter sneaks onto the set of your latest movie and leaves it in your trailer on top of a jewelry box that holds an ostentatiously luxurious diamond necklace he bought you before everything had gone to hell.  He had kept it all this time, unable to bring himself to return it, never even considering giving it to anyone but you.

Three weeks pass and Dieter hears nothing back.

He had tried to prepare himself for this possibility – that perhaps you might never forgive him, want nothing more to do with him, but still, it’s with a heavier than expected heart that he gets ready for his movie premiere, the very same film he’d promoted with his fake relationship.  Dieter didn’t expect any drama at the event – he and the starlet spoke last week and agreed that arriving separately but acting like friends was the best way to quell the outrageous reasons for the “breakup” speculated in the gossip rags.  In truth, even though they had grown to become actual friends during the meshugana of the last few months, Dieter can’t help but associate this entire project with his own regret and shame - he can’t wait for this evening to be over.

He goes through the motions of the red carpet.  Greeting his co-stars with boisterous cheers and hard gripping handshakes.  Hitting his marks and smiling almost manically for the cameras.  Waving to the fans and signing every piece of paper shoved towards him (this part he really did not mind; you always said that his fans were the best and they are).  Doing his time in the interview pit.  When he’s near the end of the gauntlet, with only the Entertainment Tonight interview to get through before he can (blessedly) retreat to his seat in the theatre, a vivid glimmer of brilliance catches Dieter’s eye.  Unlike the near blinding flash of a photographer’s camera, this sparkle beckons him, brightly winking – he almost puts up a hand to shield his eyes before he realizes what it is.

It's you.

You’re at his premiere.  Gorgeous, breathtaking, elegant – you’re walking down the arrivals promenade… and you’re wearing the diamond necklace Dieter left with your letter.  Inadvertently tuning out the ET interviewer, he stares, awestruck, mouth agape – hopeful.  The interviewer can’t help but follow Dieter’s gaze and asks him who you are. 

“An angel,” he answers honestly.

At that same moment, you finally spot him and your face breaks into a big smile, the luminosity of which nearly drops Dieter to his knees.  Instead, he breaks out into a sprint, running towards you. 

When you see what he’s doing, you pick up your skirts and start moving towards him as well.  Dieter dodges and weaves between the bodies on the red carpet, trying not to slam into any of the people that stand between him and his everything, only vaguely aware of the Entertainment Tonight interviewer and her cameraman hot on his heels.

Suddenly, the crowd seems to part and there’s a clearing right where the two of you finally meet, stopping only inches from one another.  Dieter’s panting (fuck, he’s out of shape!) but grinning like a fool when you drop the fabric of your dress to bring your hands come up to cup his face, thumbs running lovingly over his unkempt scruff – a familiar gesture that feels better than any high he’s ever experienced.  Your face is flushed bright and content, home.

“You got my letter.”

“I did.”

“You’re wearing the necklace.”

“I am.”  Your eyes twinkle, complimenting the serenity and invitation of your countenance - both saying everything without even a word.  It gives Dieter the boost of confidence he needs.

“May I kiss you?”

“Even though we’re in public?” You’re being cheeky on purpose.

But for once Dieter won’t play - there is nothing except sincerity in his response, “From now on, only ever in public.  No more hiding.”

An orchestral movie score heard only by the two of you swells as you both move to close the remaining distance between your bodies, crushing your mouths together.  The kiss is passionate, deep and heated – leaving no doubt of your feelings for one another; not even the gawking onlookers can deny what you mean to each other.  Camera bulbs pop and bright lights flash all around as your lips settle and mold in a tender slow dance, loathed to be parted ever again.  Your hands card through Dieter’s soft curls, delicate fingers cradling his head soothingly, warm; his hands spread wide to cover your back, covetous and protective.

“No more hiding,” you whisper, face lit with joy at the adoration and promise reflected in Dieter’s mirrored expression.

He nods and tightens his arm around your waist, love and resolution coursing through his veins.  Sharing one last private look, the two of you turn in unison, a team, towards the awestruck Entertainment Tonight interviewer whose microphone is practically shaking with excitement.  Dieter beams his megawatt Bravo smile at her, “Is this what the kids call a hard launch?”

🎶Artic Monkey's "Do I Wanna Know" lyrics (Hozier's version):

Crawlin' back to you Ever thought of callin' when You've had a few? 'Cause I always do Maybe I'm too Busy bein' yours To fall for somebody new Now, I've thought it through Crawlin' back to you 🎶

[siilent-wanderer]

Valentines with aespa

Where would the aespa members take you out on a date?

Jimin

Late-Night Drive & Stargazing

Picks you up in her car with a playlist full of R&B and dreamy pop songs

Takes you to a secluded hilltop or a beachside parking lot with the best view of the night sky

"I swear, this spot has the best view. Just wait till your eyes adjust."

Brings a cozy blanket, some hot chocolate, and snacks she prepared (probably cutely packed bento-style)

Talks about everything and nothing, her fingers intertwined with yours as she leans in close

As you admire the stars, she murmurs, "You know, I could stare at something just as breathtaking right next to me."

"Always so cheesy, babe"

Sings softly along to the music while looking at you, her eyes full of admiration

"This song reminds me of you"

Steals kisses under the stars when she thinks you're too distracted by the view

When you shiver slightly, she shifts closer, draping her arm around you. "Cold? Here, come here."

Aeri

Underground Live Music Bar & Arcade Night

Finds a cozy, dimly lit bar with live indie bands where you can sit close, sharing drinks and vibing to the music

Loves how you lean into her when the music gets louder, her arm draped over the back of your chair

She nudges your shoulder as you sip your drink, "Hey, if I wrote you a song, would you come to my concert?"

"You know I would, baby"

"Serious?"

"I've always been your number one fan, Aeri, that's not gonna change"

Challenges you to a round of arcade games afterward, acting smug when she wins but giving you prizes anyway

The moment she picks up a toy from the claw machine, she turns to you

"For you, my queen. Only took me five tries."

Gets competitive in air hockey but lets you win “because you’re cute when you gloat”

Holds your hand the entire time, her thumb rubbing circles on your skin absentmindedly

Ends the night by walking you home, casually throwing her jacket over your shoulders if you get cold

Minjeong

Cozy Bookstore Date & Café Hopping

Brings you to an aesthetic, indie bookstore where you both browse through poetry and fantasy novels

Playfully picks out books she thinks you'd like (or ones with the most dramatic romance plots)

Insists on reading a passage out loud just to see you react

She absentmindedly taps the spine of her book, then mumbles, "You look really pretty when you’re focused, you know that?"

Drags you to her favorite hole-in-the-wall café, where she’s a regular and knows exactly what to order for you

"You know me so well"

Ends up feeding you bites of her dessert while laughing at her own jokes

As you sip your coffee, she watches you and grins

"You have a little foam on your lip"

"Hmm?"

"Wait, let me…"

She wipes it off with her thumb, eyes flickering to your lips

Holds your hand across the table, squeezing it every time she finds you extra cute

Yizhuo

Amusement Park & Street Food Date

Takes you to a theme park and insists on going on all the fast rides first

Holds your hand tightly on roller coasters but teases you if you scream too much

As the roller coaster drops, she screams "I LOVE YOU—" before bursting into laughter

"Wait, I didn’t mean to confess like that!"

Wins you the biggest plushie at a carnival game just to show off

She grins as she holds up a huge stuffed animal

"I won this for you. Say I’m the best, and I might win you another one. Come on."

Dares you to try weird street food combinations with her — probably something spicy and chaotic

Laughs until she can’t breathe when you make a funny face after eating something too sour

Walks beside you with her arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you close every time you giggle at her antics

She links arms with you while strolling through the park

"Let’s take cute pictures so you can look at them when you miss me."

At the end of the night, she tugs you close

"One more ride? Or do you just want to hold my hand and pretend we’re in a kdrama?"

"You never run out of things to say, do you?"

"Never. You gotta get used to it"

[tarotwithavi]

Common Manifestation Mistakes & How to Fix Them

Manifestation is a powerful tool, but many people unknowingly block their desires by making small mistakes. If you feel like your manifestations are taking too long or not working at all, it’s not because the universe isn’t listening it’s likely that something in your approach needs to shift.

1. Focusing on Lack Instead of Abundance

One of the biggest reasons manifestations don’t come true is because people focus too much on what they don’t have. When you constantly think, “I need money” or “I really want love in my life”, your energy is centered around lack. The universe responds to your vibration, so when you focus on what’s missing, you attract more of that emptiness.

How to fix it: Instead of thinking about what you don’t have, shift your focus to abundance. Act as if your desire is already on its way. If you’re manifesting financial success, start feeling abundant even before the money arrives. Express gratitude for what you already have, and trust that more is coming.

2. Not Taking Inspired Action

Many people believe manifestation is just about thinking positively and waiting for magic to happen. While mindset is important, action is equally necessary. If you want to manifest a new job, but you never apply for one, the universe has no way to bring it to you.

How to fix it: Manifestation works best when you meet the universe halfway. Take small, inspired actions toward your goals. If you’re manifesting love, work on self-love and put yourself in situations where you can meet like-minded people. If you’re manifesting success, develop skills and seek out opportunities that align with your vision.

3. Letting Doubt and Negative Thoughts Take Over

Doubt is one of the biggest blockers of manifestation. If you set an intention but constantly think, “What if this doesn’t work?” or “Maybe I’m not lucky enough”, you are sending mixed signals to the universe.

How to fix it: Reprogram your mind with positive affirmations. Whenever a doubtful thought arises, counter it with something positive. Instead of saying, “What if my manifestation never comes?”, say, “What if it happens even better than I imagined?” Faith and belief are key in the manifestation process.

4. Being Impatient and Checking Too Often

Many people get frustrated when they don’t see instant results. They keep asking, “Where is my manifestation?” and constantly look for signs. This energy of impatience actually pushes the manifestation away because it shows a lack of trust in the universe.

How to fix it: Trust that your desire is on its way, even if you don’t see immediate results. Let go of the need to control when and how it will happen. The universe has perfect timing, and often, things are aligning behind the scenes before they manifest in your reality.

5. Manifesting from a Low-Vibrational State

Your emotional state plays a big role in manifestation. If you try to manifest while feeling sad, anxious, or frustrated, your energy is not aligned with what you want. You end up attracting more situations that match those low emotions.

How to fix it: Before setting an intention, raise your vibration. Do things that make you feel happy and aligned, such as listening to uplifting music, spending time in nature, practicing gratitude, or meditating. Manifestation works best when you are in a state of joy and trust.

6. Being Too Attached to a Specific Outcome

Sometimes, people get too fixated on a very specific outcome, which limits the universe’s ability to bring them something even better. For example, someone might be manifesting a specific job at a specific company, but the universe may have an even better opportunity waiting for them.

How to fix it: Be open to different possibilities. Instead of saying, “I want this exact job”, say, “I attract the perfect career opportunity that aligns with my highest good.” When you trust the universe’s plan, you allow better things to flow into your life.

7. Forgetting to Practice Gratitude

A lot of people focus so much on what they want that they forget to appreciate what they already have. This creates a sense of dissatisfaction, which lowers your vibration and slows down manifestation.

How to fix it: Make gratitude a daily habit. Every morning or before bed, take a moment to acknowledge the blessings in your life. The more grateful you are, the more the universe gives you to be grateful for.

[emblemxeno]

Hot Take Time!

I think the breakthrough revelation that the Sonic fanbase had about the series' reception during the 2010's, where full-force sincerity in its stories was mocked for being cringe and willingness to stand out in both a gameplay and artistic sense resulted in beloved games being panned retroactively, can be easily applied to FE Engage.

Engage is the most fucking sincere plot the series has had in over a decade. Yes, despite being the guy whose fav FE game is Fates, I think that game was still bogged down by the prospect of following up the blowout success of a game like Awakening and had too many instances of putting in a lot of ideas to see what worked rather than putting the full weight behind a select few core elements.

SoV had the baggage of being a remake while still needing a modern appeal, and ended up with a lot of contradictory aspects. And 3H doesn't know what it wants to be and never did from the ground up.

Engage is different. It wanted to be a grand celebration of 30 years of this great series. It wanted pizazz. It wanted spectacle. It wanted to say "we fucking love this series and we love the fans who supported us."

The characters are flashy and striking to make you remember them. The music is bombastic, with a wide variety of styles so anyone can find a favorite track. The presentation is beautiful, with great visuals and phenomenal sound design. New uber powerful mechanics balanced out by incredible map design, supberb flow, and responsive game feel.

But the sincerity shines brightest with its narrative. The core messages are well written!

Sometimes knowing when to retreat is better than foolhardy bravery. It's always worth considering someone's background and feelings before casting them away. There's never a single easy solution to your problems, and if you think there is, you'll end up repeating the same mistakes. You can find family with anyone, and are not bound solely by those who you're born to. To live authentically as yourself is beautiful and should be celebrated.

The game believes all of those things to a degree which really hasn't been seen since the series was on the brink of death.

But that sincerity was treated as unpalatable, cringe, and plain awful.

The fandom for a series that routinely and infamously has terrible armor designs now suddenly throws a fit because "flower girl has silly dress" or "these characters have face paint/tattoos."

The single laziest form of criticism for FE casts that has permeated the community since Awakening released, that being "the cast is one note tropes that have no personality or development outside of them", came back in full fucking force with Engage.

And it's pretty damn sad. In my opinion, sincerity shouldn't be mocked. Sometimes, you should take a minute and ask yourself "Is it bad, or is it just not my thing? Am I writing off an entire cast's writing because I don't like some character designs? Do I have personal preferences that aren't being met in this instance, and should I learn to grapple with saying that instead of just writing off the product as fundamentally terrible or, at best, half-assed?"

At some point, looking inward and considering community wide commonalities has to be recognized as a factor for why products are received the way they are, rather than just laying blame at the devs' feet for "not making a good product that people wanted." After all, word of mouth is the reason why FE even got this far, considering FE1 was effectively a sleeper hit because people who played it spread the word despite mixed reviews.

TL-DR, Engage isn't cringe, YOU ARE!!!