#why are they not able to beat the allegations?

[asarigg]

About: Part 1

this section is meant to be for topics that I didn't include either because it didn't feel very organic with what was being talked about or... honestly I don't remember. Anyway, I hope these can also bring new ideas for you.

YEARS ALONE

Koujaku received his tattoo around the age of 15, and was at least 23 when he returned to the island, leaving a gap of around eight years that he spent completely alone, dealing with his trauma, without help. We don’t know anything about how he lived since then, what kind of contact he had with the rest of his family, because he says that he lost the contact he had with the rest of his family, when he traveled to Midorijima and the border was closed, not before. In those years he had to learn to cut hair, work on his own and gradually separate himself from his family. I always imagined that Koujaku would be homeschooled, instead of going to a normal school, since he was chosen as the heir. Maybe before that he would go to a regular school with other children. Without having a normal education he probably had to go back to studying as an adult to be able to get his degree. I mention some hcs about this later on too.

SCRAP

Observing the elements that appear in his mind, I’ve always wanted to have a bad ending that would involve the Scrap environment, it’s ideal for horror, can you blame me? When Aoba enters, he’s in a dark room, without furniture or decoration. When he goes to another room it turns out to be exactly the same as the previous one, and so on, countless more rooms until finally the appearance changes. For Koujaku being in that house felt like an endless labyrinth, all the rooms seemed equally oppressive, equally caging, hence why they all look the same. And all the doors have a dragon painted on them, wherever he looked, wherever he went, there was no escape, just another dark room, uninviting, cold, strange, disturbing, hostile, suffocating, all while some hairlike snakes chased him, demonstrating just how engraved the image of Ryuuhou is in his mind, torturing him and keeping him prisoner. The dragon painted on the doors has five claws, meaning it's an imperial dragon. The imperial dragon is supposed to represent the chinese emperor, so other dragons had four or three claws. Japanese dragons have a standard of three claws, and you can see three claws on the dragon that is on Ryuuhou's kimono. Maybe this is just meant to be Ryuuhou seeming like a regular, standard person (with a bunch of skulls around his neck uh), but in Koujaku's mind, he reveals his true form, almighty, powerful, someone way superior to him.

When the next room finally changes its appearance, Aoba finds a teenage Koujaku being tattooed, strands of hair enveloping him in a cocoon in a bed drenched with his own blood. And how ironic that the very tattoo that keeps him trapped and transforms him is made of hair.

Also, don’t you find it curious that Koujaku is reborn from a cocoon giving him a connection with butterflies and that Aoba’s dad told him about those big blue butterflies when he was a kid? Yeah… My butterfly kouao art was canon after all, they're not beating the allegations. The butterfly on the vip card of the club too…

DEVELOPMENT OF THEIR RELATIONSHIP. PATH TO HEALING: part 1

We talked already about Aoba and Koujaku’s relationship, symbolically, already starting long before you even get to their route. Obviously the route is a crisis in their friendship, but the feelings were already emerging long before, so it’s also a "breakup in their romantic relationship". The lack of communication and trust is what makes everything start to fall apart, and given the fact that he leaves with some women right at the beginning, it gives space to the infidelity and jealousy themes. I also have my opinions about this scene, but it’s nothing we haven’t mentioned already and they’re not things unique to them but in the entire game. I think it’s a terrible mistake that all this happens immediately after they walk through the door into PJ. They don’t give you any time to get used to the new environment, when we had Koujaku swearing his loyalty to Aoba and telling him that they would do everything they could to put an end to Toue’s cartoon villain evil plans.

I really think it would have been a good thing if they could wander the streets for a while, making you see that Koujaku is committed to this instead of making him fuck off as soon as he sees a woman, helping with the pace of the story and the feelings you should be having about them. He gives such a carefree image that it feels weird especially coming after the talk he gives to Aoba, it doesn’t feel true to himself.

And yes, it’s true that they leave crumbs, like describing his smile as forced, and that he has a strange expression when he sees the woman with the tattoo, but they are things that could be done later perfectly, and I even think it could work better, because it would leave you more disoriented, which is precisely what you should be thinking at this moment, better than a “okay man whatever”. You don’t even think about these details the first time you read it so the impression is more impactful. I don’t think Koujaku would walk away so soon, even if they ran into the girls as soon as they entered. Ryuuhou ruined his life, as well as his father, it’s not just any family problem, but a snowball of traumas that has been rolling around since his childhood. After years of working on forgetting him and stop seeking revenge, seeing a tattoo probably made by him must have felt like a kick in the balls, like seeing a ghost. He would be surprised and confused, of course, but I don’t know if he would go with them right away. His impulsiveness is important, but as an adult this is more nuanced. It’s not like one of the “provocations” he was responding to before, it’s no direct danger, it’s just a tattoo that might have been made by him, while he also has to keep appearances up next to Aoba. When faced with a personal dilemma he thinks about it a lot more, he hesitates. Maybe he needed time to process all this, to really think about what to do now that his memories are more vivid than ever.

Which btw after Koujaku sees Aoba sleeping in his bed you never see him with women (willingly lol). The ones in the beginning of his route don’t count because that’s for lore reasons :smug face:

Maybe as a result of this, Aoba would notice that his attitude after saying goodbye to those two women has changed, that he seems more quiet and serious, nervous, looking for excuses when Aoba asks him. Maybe later, when they decided to go to rest, instead of going to Glitter with Aoba, he would leave him alone and go see these women after exchanging numbers or something like that. That way, you can feel the role that Koujaku has as Aoba’s friend, and the tension and mystery are built step by step, not throwing it all at once.

Aoba not only gets angry with him when he chooses to go with those women, but rather he gets disappointed, he gets tired. Being in the critical situation they are in, in which they basically have to infiltrate “enemy territory” and overthrow the brainwashing empire of a millionaire bastard, you’d expect him to get angry way more forcefully. Of course we later learn why he does it, but at this moment the only thing that would cross his mind would be to hold it against him, grab his arm and stop him, but none of that happens.

But Aoba’s initial annoyance quickly fades, he seems rather disappointed, sad, especially when he sees them enter a nightclub. Because Koujaku has chosen to go with them instead of staying by his side, leaving him alone. Whenever he goes with these women, Aoba sees him from behind, from a distance. A cold and impersonal posture representative of the distance that is growing between them, as if he was something unattainable for him.

[worstloki]

Characters that would rather remain silent and smile at what condemnation they get than admit true events from their perspective because who would even believe them my beloved

[arolesbianism]

Decided to draw some hypothetical employee id cards for my upper floor team captains <3

[rotisseries]

i don't read enough loz fic to know what the popular fanon is so maybe this already exists but there should be a revali and zelda besties agenda i think it would be good for them

[priestfrommidnightmass]

one of the saddest things abt my life is that i enjoy playing bass and being a bassist so much but i literally suck at it so much i’m so bad

[onlineufo]

its terrifying that no matter what, even subconsciously, we place ourselves and others into cages which are our schemas about them. these enclosures limit our perceptions of people to the conclusions we draw about them. this is a result of an evolutionary habit to try and understand concepts through patterns and categorizing stimuli.

[cutieln4]

PR Problem | LN4 smau

lando norris x reader

summary: in which lando's girlfriend is gorgeous, and he is not afraid to be horny on main

fc: madison beer

yourusername

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yourusername life recently :)

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yourfriend pretty girl

username1 you’re so gorjus

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maxfewtrell mate it’s been 2 days

landonorris please just one chance

landonorris on my knees for you🧎‍♂️

oscarpiastri Zak just scheduled a PR training session for you

username3 LANDO’S COMMENTS OMG💀

username4 he’s so unhinged i love him

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username7 wish my boyfriend was as down bad as lando is

randomfootballer wow😍

landonorris yeah you can fuck off

y/nupdates

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y/nupdates Y/n in her latest photo shoot

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username1 how is she so gorgeous

username2 lando is so lucky

landonorris i know😍

landonorris oh wow

landonorris is she single?

username3 one thing is certain in life: if there’s a post about y/n, lando is gonna be in the comments

landonorris need her more than i need oxygen

landonorris i’ll be a passenger princess for you😫

danielricciardo SIMP🫵

landonorris run me over with that car pls

username4 beautiful

username5 i’d kill to have her looks

username6 once again lando is thirsting

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f1wags Y/n spotted in Miami ahead of the race

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landonorris AWOOOGA🤤🤤

landonorris WOOF WOOF

landonorris GNAWING AT THE BARS OF MY ENCLOSURE

oscarpiastri Zak is disappointed again

landonorris you could beat me up and i’d thank you

username1 looked at myself and sighed

username2 just spent 20 minutes laughing at lando’s comments

username3 life is so unfair

username4 nah fr cause she’s pretty, nice, funny, has a good body, AND is dating an f1 driver

username5 PLEASE BE IN THE PADDOCK THIS WEEKEND🙏🙏

username6 fav wag

username7 she’s so out of lando’s league

username8 if lando was able to pull her, maybe the rest of us have a chance

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yourusername appreciation post for my handsome winner💞

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landonorris i love you

landonorris i’m all yours

username1 i’m crying this is so sweet

username2 i love boyfriend lando

username3 THE NOSE SCRUNCH🥹

username4 i love them

landonorris i did it for you baby🫶🫶

danielricciardo simp

landonorris yes, and?

username5 HE DID IT YESSSSSSS

username6 this is why you’re the best wag

username7 the difference in the way they compliment each other is crazy

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username1 she’s glowing wow

username2 can lando fight??

username3 face card never declines

landonorris HOLYYY MOLYYYY

landonorris that’s MY girlfriend everyone

landonorris omfg she’s so sexy🤤

landonorris i want her to wrap her legs around my head😫

username4 sorry???

oscarpiastri right, that’s enough instagram for today

username5 the horniness continues

username6 i need her to tell us her highlighter

username7 she’s so perfect it’s unfair

username8 hair is always perfect

[mv1simp]

inspired by my fav @piastrification thank you for being in my walls 🫶🫶 hope you enjoy!!

Streets ♥️

Max Verstappen x PR Manager!Reader

we play our fantasies out in real life ways, and no final fantasy, can we end these games, though?

6 months ago, F1 champion Max Verstappen traded in his status as "serious cat dad with road rage issues" for "Genius. Playboy. Millionaire. Philanthropist". Since then you've been fighting absolute demons as his PR manager to keep his reputation clean in the media. After you tell him you've had enough, he proposes a very interactive solution to your problem.

Content includes: Humour, crackfic, fluff, so much sexual tension, 18+ MDNI, smut, playboy!max, exasperated manager! reader, a very well rounded fic for once?! 4.7k WC

If someone asked you where it’d all gone downhill, you’d have to say it started because of that greedy paparrazi rat Henri - photographer at the MonacoDaily, otherwise known as every PR manager’s sleep paralysis demon. Because this particular paparazzo had a nasty knack for capturing celebrities just as they made the most atrocious decisions known to mankind. And he had an even nastier knack for threatening to sell said photos to the highest bidder. Truly, it was a dark day for any media team when they were forced to bargain with such a foul demon, who’d be able to go toe to toe with the likes of Satan himself.

So when your phone dinged at 5am on a peaceful Sunday morning, only to reveal the 7th (7th!!) message this month from the very same greedy little rat, you threw it across the room. Only to then remember you devastatingly had not been born into a Dubai oil family and you needed this job to pay Monaco rent. The text turns out to be a photo of your aggravating client - Max Verstappen, F1 champion driver, loving father to two cats, and more recently, certified manwhoreTM. He’s living upto your nickname for him, pictured in some nightclub with a half naked blonde sitting on his lap. Alright, alright, not as bad as you were expecting, you could even photoshop the girl’s hair colour to match his current girlfriend’s one maybe? Well, except the brunette woman glaring behind him is his current model girlfriend of the month. You hear a ding, another text from Henri - this time with just a 😈 and 💸👀. You throw the phone back against wall.

Three hours later you’ve cleaned up the PR nightmare and are banging on Max’s apartment door. He blearily lets you in, shirtless and still looking half drunk, but you don’t hesitate to yank him by his beltloops and drag him to the dining table (after quickly checking out that broad chest of his, though, cause goddamn. You’re just a girl.)

Ow, ow, what the hell, Max groans as he’s shoved into a chair. Please. As if you could do any real damage in your 5 foot frame to the 6 foot driver. Slamming your hands on the table for some dramatic flourish (you’re never beating the theatre kid allegations) you give the Dutchman a piece of your mind, demanding to know what his problem is, does he know how many people you’ve had to bribe this month to stop #SluttyMaxEra trending on twitter?? And yes, you know he broke up with Kelly 10 months ago but can’t he just process this healthily and go to therapy instead of having a hoe phase and hooking up with every third woman in Monaco?

Max looks insulted at this slight to his honor. He retaliates by accusing you of buying into the patriarchy and slut shaming him (-That’s not how that works but pop off king, is your deadpan response), and telling you he’s very much over Kelly, okay, it was an amicable breakup (-Sure, Verstappen, that’s why you’d only played Lana Del Ray for a whole month afterwards, huh?) and well, what’s the issue, he’s a hot and rich guy in Monaco, it’s not his fault women just want him? Would it not be #misogynistic of him to deny women the opportunity to explore their sexuality?! He smirks, pleased with his defence.

You groan, slumping down on a chair and burying your face in your hands, muffling your groan of wholesome cat dad Max comeback whennn. Max rolls his eyes at your theatrics, asking if you’d finally lost the plot.

You try cleaning up the PR messes you’ve been making, Max Emilian, you hiss furiously, remember Ibiza? Santorini? The goddamn yacht party over summer break when he got with the captain and her deputy?! (Even now, thinking of that leaking online gives you heartburn.)

Which yacht, Max says cockily, the one where he got with them one after another or at the same time?

Your jaw drops. You hadn’t even known about the threesome, so you suppose you should be grateful that wasn’t another mess to clean up. But a deeper, insecure part of you can’t help but wonder why the only woman Max doesn’t seem to want is you.

And sometimes you can’t help but wonder what it’d be like to be one of his girls, under his strong body for once instead of on the other side of his hotel wall, having to drown out the very satisfied female moans and headboard bangs with noise cancelling headphones. Like always, you push that thought down quickly.

You, good sir, are for the streets, you announce, standing up and deciding it was time to leave before your delulu, jealous thoughts decided to resurface. Seriously, you mutter under your breath, you didn’t care if his current side quest was to fuck 10 times a week, but could he at least stick to one person for a bit and not make more work for you-

Max’s hand slams the front door back closed as you started to open it. You freeze, turning back to look at him smirking down at you. You hadn’t expected him to follow you down the hallway and you gulp nervously for the safety of your job - you might have taken the roasting a bit too far.

Instead, you get a sly, Oh, so I can do whatever I want, wherever I want, just with one person?

At your awkward nod, because yes, that would significantly ease your workload, he continues, enjoying teasing his uptight, pretty manager - then were you gonna offer yourself up? After all, there’s no PR messes to find out about if it’s you, right?

You blink at Max, completely stunned by the 180 this conversation has taken. Your expression is so adorable that he couldn’t resist a you’re so cute when you’re acting all jealous, you could’ve just asked if you wanted him to fuck you, ya know?

That promptly reminds you you’re dealing with an an absolute manwhore. RIP celibacy era Max, you’ll always be famous.

Um, absolutely fucking not, keep your STDs to yourself, you hiss, flushing head to toe, and furious at the desire in you to give into the devilish proposal. He encourages you to think about it, still smirking, relaxing his grip so you can mercifully flee far away from his intense gaze. Jesus, when did he learn to rizz a girl up like that?!

You don’t take his proposal seriously at all, ignoring his cocky looks at you over meetings all week (also, he’d texted you his clean STD result to assure you he was a #SafeSexKing.) But that weekend, your refusal comes back to haunt you when you’re on a well deserved night out with your girlfriends and your PR manager senses start going off. You narrow your eyes as you spot Max in the dark corner of the nightclub, hands all over a mystery redhead. She’s not going to be a mystery much longer though - if you’d spotted them it was a matter of time before fan’s phones did and then you’d wake up to another goddamn text from your sleep paralysis demon, Henri.

You don’t even have to think about it twice. Saying goodbye to your friends, you’re at Max’s side at a very impressive speed given your 6 inch stilettos and tight sparkly minidress, and once again dragging him off by the beltloops and into an open bathroom.

He lets you yank him away, smirking when he sees you lock the door for good measure. Sweetheart, he greets. So good to see you. Finally realised you couldn’t resist me?

You practically climb him like a tree while telling him to shut the fuck up and pay attention at media training day next time, because what kind of PR crisis did he have unfolding out there? And just this once you’ll help him out, you say breathlessly in between deep kisses, but this isn’t a regular thing -

There’s not much more talking from you because he has you moaning up against the wall next, fingers buried inside your tight little pussy as he talks you through an orgasm, and then another when he splits you in half on his cock. (Once again, manwhore, who carries a condom in their jean pockets?!)

Unfortunately for your self control but very fortunately for your sex life, it is not in fact, a “one time thing”. Your trusty rose vibrator is glad for the break as you’d been taking your year long frustrations at your dry spell out on her. Especially when coming home after staying in hotels where you’d had to book out rooms neighbouring Max’s, so no one else overheard the raunchy vocals of different women every night.

Like Max said, with you, there were no more illicit PR messes to find out about in the middle of the night. You’d redirect him everytime he gave you bedroom eyes (At the pre race debrief. Post race debrief. Weekly team plan meeting. Over zoom calls? Seriously?) - gently taking his large hand and guiding him to a much more hidden, PR crisis-friendly area. To your surprise, Max actually sticks to his word and only hooks up with you - admittedly, multiple times a week (Not that you’re complaining. Turns out he was just as good in bed as he was on the track. Except this time he was definitely not finishing first...)

And for a while, everything is going well. There are no more weekly scandals scattered across trashy celeb magazines about Max. Your boss is gushing with praise, so impressed that you’ve finally managed to talk some sense into Redbull’s problem child (ah, if only she knew, but she never would, because the goddamn CIA couldn’t torture this info out of you) and best of all, you haven’t gotten a text from papparazzi rat Henri in weeks!

So of course, Max Verstappen decides that things are getting just a little bit too quiet for his liking, you had to earn your generous PR manager salary, that he paid for, right? His new, numerous tactics to stir the pot had included:

Going to clubs with no private bathrooms so you’d had to sit on his lap in the VIP lounge as he pulled your panties to the side to slide into you, barely hidden under your flimsy dress. You’d held back your moans and prayed the bass was too loud for anyone to hear

Sitting right next to you at every team dinner or business meeting so that he could sneak a large hand up your thigh and tease your pussy for fucking hours, often just as you were about to speak. And when you’re clenching the table so hard your fingers were white, he’s bending under the table to pick up a pen or something but instead left teasing licks and kisses on your aching core. You'd learnt very quickly not to wear a skirt.

Picking you up in his 2 seater Aston Martin instead of the much more appropriate discreet, spacious, 5 seater Audi he owned - so when he was too pent up after a bad practise session to wait till he got home, he'd get you to go down on him right there in the car, sometimes even as he drove, instead of parking in some hidden backstreet. It was so dirty, that he needed you so desperately that he didn't care about being caught by anyone peeking in through the half tinted windows. Because if they did look, they’d find his head thrown back in pleasure as he moans, his fingers tangled in your curls as he moved your drooling, pink lips up and down his wide cock-

Anyways, you get the picture. And he’d escalated this all the way to the paddock, which was insane because there were always multiple cameras trained on the current F1 champion. It’s the one place you two couldn’t sneak off without a very high risk of being caught, as evidenced by the one and only time he'd managed to get under your skin in the garage. He'd had you pinned up against the wall in some narrow side hallway as he whispered how fucking sexy you’d looked today, wearing his hoodie to cover up the hickies you hadn’t realized you’d woken up with and paired with some tiny denim shorts. Having the 6 foot champion huskily groan that he couldn’t focus on his free practise everytime you bent over to pet a passing dog, or when you innocently sucked on the Redbull flavoured lollipops and then the goddamn ice cream from the truck they’d brought in - was quite the power trip, you admit. So you guided his lips from your neck as he tries to add to the growing bruises on your neck and redirected him to your waiting lips instead, steamily making out as his large hands squeezed your thick ass like he’d been thinking about all day-

Max?!?

You instantly pull back from the driver and turned to see a flabbergasted looking GP - Max’s race engineer. His jaw is wide open as he looked at you two with round eyes. You’re fumbling to explain, trying and failing to push Max back - who looks rather annoyed at the intrusion and semi-glares at GP with narrow eyes. You hiss at the younger man to stop being rude and slip underneath his arms, going over to guiltily apologise to GP only to be met with You too?! How did he get you in his bed, you hated how much of a slut he was! Seriously, does he have a magical dick? Now you stare at GP in shock, unsure of how to respond to his question while Max starts laughing behind you. You make him join you as you promise to GP that he will never have to witness this again, because there will be no unprofessional behaviour of any sort on the paddock after "BootyShorts Gate" as you thereafter dub the incident. Regardless, GP still shoots you both wary glances and begins the habit of announcing his arrival and waiting 10 seconds before turning a corner in the garage, earning him many an odd look. Dramatic, really, was this where Max gets it from?

Max, of course, was very displeased with this new “professionalism” rule you'd set down - on the paddock was when he'd get the most tense, the most horny and desperate to have you underneath him, after all - and he made sure you knew it. You deliberately ignored his heated gaze on you as you interviewed him, or his lingering touches when he helped you hold your microphone up to his much taller frame, large hand wrapped around your small ones clutching the mic. Or his recent favourite, which involved standing next to you to help pick out the insta pics post-race (something he'd notoriously always hated to do) - except now, he conveniently happened to be shirtless, his toned abs and broad shoulders on display, running a hand through his sweaty tousled hair.

This last seduction tactic had sent you fleeing to Checo's garage to seek out the other Redbull driver's PR manager and beg on your knees for a client swap, surely, the sponsor benefits are legendary for whoever Max's PR manager is -

Nope. Nuh uh, no way, Checo is the breeziest driver ever to look after. The other manager pauses. Well, except for the occasional political military coup scandal in Mexico. But still, I'd take that any day over El Manwhore.

You wailed at whatever Gods had decided to curse you and took matters into your own hands, furiously plotting up social media campaign idea after idea that were exactly the kind of thing Max hated with a burning passion - hoping it would get him to back off on his tactics and wave a white flag. From viral TikTok challenges, to making him read all his cringe 2008 tweets, and even making him play fuck, marry, kill with the drivers of the grid. You'd admit, that last one had been rather funny to watch, making you chuckle as you scrolled through the comments, liking "Can't believe we got Max Verstappen saying he would fuck Lewis, kill Pierre and marry Charles before GTA 6" and "does Redbull admin know she posted this on main?!"

But despite your best efforts, it didn't seem to deter Max. If anything, he'd begrudgingly do the task and end up laughing excitedly at you - who was holding the camera - about some joke or the other and make your stupid heart flutter. You knew you definitely should not be catching feelings for your client - who'd made it very clear his interest in you was only physical. But no one needed to know that sometimes you’d log into your fake account to like the "Who got max giggling and kickin his feet and shii?" comments.

Meanwhile, Max had caught wind of your desperation for an escape attempt with Checo’s manager and had upped the ante. He slyly mentioning to Christian Horner than you were doing such a great job as his PR manager, could he pretty please have you promoted to his general manager for his non racing publicity too?

And that's how you found yourself at a Dior Sauvage photoshoot, despite your adamant protests to Horner. You were putting your Masters of Business Adminstration, first class honours, to fantastic use by babysitting a 26 year old child who liked fast cars that went vroom vroom. The only redeeming factor is that you can leave the unflattering Redbull shirt at home since this wasn't for F1 publicity and instead wear a nice outfit for once. Still, you thought it was odd that Max had so easily accepted this campaign, as he wasn't normally one to enjoy doing PR.

A few minutes later you've figured out exactly why your favourite manwhore had agreed to this campaign, because he's grinning at you while posed shirtless, toned abs and broad shoulders all on display as some pretty, busty model is draped over him. The photographer is making this even more painful for you by dragging out the shoot, making Max and the model reposition herself multiple times. You roll your eyes at the scene, because obviously they're two very attractive people who will look good together no matter what, did the photographer really need to be so extra? You stalk off at some point to make yourself a hot chocolate in the hopes it'll sooth the flames of jealousy that are threatening to consume you right now. Max approaches you when a break is called, running a teasing hand along your waist from the back and whispering you looked so fucking hot in this tight maxi dress, making you nervously look around to see if anyone noticed. Luckily, all the staff appeared busy and didn’t look in the dim corner you'd settled into to do paperwork. You hiss at him to keep your hands to yourself, Verstappen making him grin and inform you that's not what you’d said last night, in fact, you were practically begging for him to do the exact opposite-

You're glaring up at him, seriously contemplating if it’s worth breaking your contract clause to "act in the client's best interests" and mauling him with your laptop when the photographer comes up to you both with narrowed eyes. You guiltily step back, thinking he overhead Max's suggestive comments, but instead he just looks back and forth between you two contemplatively. Then, just as you were about to ask him what the issue was, he announces that you'd be replacing the model as the female for the shoot. No questions asked! he announces as you try to protest and snaps his fingers at the makeup and wardrobe artists to demand they sort you out (he gestures rather dramatically to your whole figure when he says this, making you scowl).

So that's how you find yourself dressed in a silky gold minidress with a sultry eye look, pressed up against Max's broad chest and trying not to focus on the intimate position you two are in. Max, however, has no such qualms about the position, using it to tease you further. You've been looking extra tense lately, sweetheart, he breathes, those devilish lips brushing past your ear. I know a great way to make you relax? You growl at him to shut the fuck up because oh my god, did he know how many cameras are pointed at you both right now? Besides, you mutter under your breath, it seemed like he was very interested in relaxing with that blonde model earlier.

Fighting to keep the smug look of his face, Max whispers back that there was No need to be jealous, schatje, you were the only one getting access to his magical dick. So caught up in the game you two are playing, you don't even register the photographer excitedly snapping up pictures, proclaiming that he knew it, the chemistry between these two is unbelievable!

Afterwards, as you're walking off the photoshoot, feeling all hot and bothered from Max's hands running across your exposed skin, shamelessly looking you up and down, the blonde Dutchman catches up to you. He teases you that you were going to get wrinkles at 25 if you didn't stop scowling all the time. I'm older than you, you scoff back, by a whole 6 months, in fact, so maybe you should actually listen to me for once instead of pissing me off? No problem, Max agrees, after all, he's always had a thing for MILFs. You can't help snort at his retort and then start laughing when he tries to maintain an innocent look. At least you were away from the cameras in case someone heard this, you mused.

Unfortunately, you both don't notice MonacoDaily's ratbag paparrazo, Henri, hiding in nearby shrubbery with his camera. It had been far too long without a Verstappen news scandal, he thought with a satisfied smirk as he clicked away.

And later than night, after you'd eaten the chicken stir fry he'd cooked and rewatched Cars 2 (a surpassingly more regular occurrence, these days, to unwind with him at the end of the day instead of immediately being mauled the second you stepped foot in his apartment) you made sure he followed your orders for once. Sitting him back, telling him just how bad he'd been today with all his teasing (-well, it worked, didn't it, sweetheart?) you showed him just how good you were at playing the game, too. And soon, he was breathlessly moaning underneath you as you rode him for the first time, gripping his cock like you were going to milk every last drop, teasing him with just enough pace to get him worked up but not enough to send him over the edge. And you only let him cum inside you when he begged you sweetly, making you go fuzzy at the sight of the infamous Redbull playboy being so desperate for you, and only you.

Afterwards, once you've shampooed each other's hair in the shower while gossiping about how catty that makeup artist had been, really, to imply that your pretty curls had been the problem and not her shitty styling? and Max has got you spooned against him, warm in an old hoodie of his, pressing a goodnight kiss to your forehead, you can't control the warmth blossoming in your chest any longer. And as a content sleep takes a hold of you, you can't help but wonder if Max's affections went beyond physical attraction, just like yours’ were now doing.

It turned out the opportunity to find out this answer would come the very next day, when the ding of your phone wakes you up in the early hours of the morning. It’s a very specific sound that you've set for a certain ratbag - and you get war flashbacks, hearing it now after so long. Scrambling off the bed, ignoring Max's muffled groans as you shove his heavy arm of you, you unlock your phone and gasp in horror as your suspicions are confirmed. Henri has arisen from the ashes and this time it's to deliver his sauciest scandal yet. Because a picture tells a 1000 words, sure, but he has the two of you on a goddamn video, flirting and giggling at each other as you exited the studio yesterday. There's no chance of you talking your way out of this one, as Max's large palm wanders to give your thick ass a firm squeeze as he guides you into his passenger seat. Goddamn, you knew you shouldn't have worn that tempting skims maxi dress - Max was an ass (and tits) man who couldn't be trusted to control himself in public. BTW already sold this 🥸 Henri texts. Just a courtesy FYI cuz I brought a boat with the bag from this one ✌️

You contemplate if it would be better to disappear off the face of the planet, or get plastic surgery to become unrecognisable as you chug your morning Redbull while moodily looking over the Monaco sunrise. Max joins you after a few minutes, looking extremely cute as he rubs the sleep out of his baby blue eyes and asks you what's wrong, schatje.

Taking a deep sigh (like you said, #DramaKid), you break the news. I’m going to hold your hand while I say this (- that’s really not necessary, Max interrupts) - but you know celibacy exists, right? As does having sex in a private location without the risk of being arrested for public indecency?

True, Max agrees, but what was the fun in that? Besides, you were just too hot to resist. Ignoring the butterflies at his cheesy flirting, you hold up the incriminating video on your phone as proof that it was not all fun and games, as Henri had already sold this to multiple news outlets this morning, you inform glumly. Max is strangely silent, looking intently at the video and even replaying it a few times, his eyes crinkling as a soft smile appears on his face when he hears the sound of you two laughing. Then - in a truly unbelievable redemption arc plotline from the Monaco playboy - he asks if it would be so terrible, to have this made public, to let the world know that you were together?

Well, I - you stumble over your words, - I dunno, I thought you liked that? Keeping it secret cause you just wanted a convenient hook up?

Max is silent again. Then, looking uncharacteristically nervous, he says that's not what he wants, not really, not anymore - not since he'd fallen in love with you, somewhere along the 3 months of the friends with benefits/PR manager and her problematic client situationship you’d had. And like at the very start, you don’t even need to think about it twice. This time when you shyly smile and kiss him, you make sure he can feel your love through it and know that you wanted more, too.

So you walk into work that morning, holding hands in open defiance, ready for the world to see. You’re rather confused when no one seems to be paying much attention, instead frantically trying to get the set up ready for the pre race testing. Maybe you two had not been as indiscreet as you thought and people already suspected? Or maybe you both had a penchant for drama and thought you were the main characters when you clearly were not?

You look at each other, shrug, and you give him a kiss on the cheek and tell him you’ll see him for lunch at the kebab shop on the corner, before he wanders off to the garage. Maybe Henri had a change of heart and decided not to exploit innocents for fame and money, you ponder hopefully. Maybe there truly was good in the world, after all.

And then you hear your name being called and turn to see your boss standing behind you menacingly, hands on hips. Care to explain why #MaxLovesMILFS is trending right now?

Somewhere along the Monaco waterfront, a paparazzi rat skulking in the bushes sneezes.

—————————————————————————

A/N: again thank you so much to @piastrification for inspiring this piece!! So sorry for the delay and I hope you enjoy my attempt at branching out to other fics xx tysm to you all for the requests, I am working them into my upcoming fics!! 💖

[salemlunaa]

✾˚•Time isn’t your enemy because it isn’t real∘˚✾

Stop trying to beat the clock, you’re getting nowhere

∘✾˚PART I | THE ALLEGED WASTE OF “TIME”

The same could also be said for circumstances because they also aren’t real. I understand your frustration; you want to induce now. You think you’ve wasted time and you want to manifest your dream life now.

𖦹˚∘“You’re scared of failing (you literally can’t fail a meditative state; this isn’t rocket science). You’re panicking because you swore to yourself you would induce pure consciousness over the break and live your dream life, and then you didn’t. *Loud heavy sigh* You can’t fail this, guys. It’s okay to be worried, but this isn’t something that just can never not work for you.” ∘˚𖦹

↑ quoted from my gorgeous girl @luvmanifesting

you need to realise that the fear of failure and wasting time here doesn’t make sense because you already have it, why would a mother cry because she “NEEDS to have a baby before the end of this year”, if she’s holding the baby in her arms? if it’s right infront of her?

✾˚٭EXPLANATION | WHAT TIME IS TO US

You guys are growing desperate because you have given yourself a time crunch, and that’s where you go wrong. Your outer man (you in the 3D) will experience the 3D and time, but your inner man can’t experience these things. Your naked self is your inner man. The entire concept of the void state is that it is just your inner man alone, with no power of the 3D or time. This is why you are able to set ANY intention, because the barriers of time and the 3D are nonexistent. This is why you can choose to go back in time (being able to manipulate time = time isn’t real), and you can choose to manifest a pink elephant plushie on your bed (manipulating the 3D = time isn’t real). You are your inner man viewing the world from your outer man, but you can align them together.

܀˚✾PART II | BYE BYE TIMECRUNCHES!

And I’ll tell you now, if you don’t align yourself with your inner man and realize you have it now, you’re NEVER going to get it.

“but i NEED to manifest my dream life before school”

“circumstances are tough and i NEED to induce pure consciousness and leave this reality before exams”

“i hate my job i NEED to induce before the end of this year”

No, no, no. Stop playing this game of racing against time. IT ISN’T A REAL THING. I don’t care what’s happening tomorrow, I DON'T CARE what’s happening in two days, I DON'T CARE what’s happening next week, next month, or in a year, and neither should you. If you are giving yourself a time crunch, you don’t understand what it means to be pure consciousness. If you have told yourself that you ABSOLUTELY MUST induce before a certain time, you don’t understand what it means to be pure consciousness.

I DON'T CARE if your back is against the wall and you’re drowning in unfavorable circumstances—stop valuing time and stop valuing the 3D. If you don’t accept it now, it will NEVER come. Because the time is now; you are only experiencing now. It’s like the riddle: “What says it’s coming but never does? Tomorrow.” Because the “tomorrow” you speak of will be called “today” when you experience it. So you are always experiencing the now. You must accept it now.

Say Bye Bye to time crunches, because they don’t exist for a god because time isn’t a thing to your inner man. When you think of something, I don’t care if it’s a penny or fairy wings—you have it. When you want to be pure consciousness, because of that want, you have it. You have your dream life.

˚✾∘˚PART III | THE TIME IS NOW, NOT YOUR ENEMY

Time is not your enemy, because your inner man is god → your inner man manifests → time doesn’t exist to your inner man = therefore everything is happening all at once (and when i mean everything I don’t mean intrusive thoughts) So when you want to induce pure consciousness, know that it is instant, effortless and already done. I don’t care if the 3d has failed you, if your outer man has slept while trying to induce, you have everything you could possibly want.

Trying to win a race against something that is non existent is allowing your outer man to waste even more “time”. So stop this in 2025, I DON'T CARE if school is starting next week, if exams are starting next month, if you NEED to do this by the end of this year, if you spend time trying to beat the clock, you’ll end up with nothing. You have it now, the time is now and always will be.

Kill those thoughts before they come up.

OUTER MAN: “I have this pit in my stomach when I think about resuming school and all the circumstances that come with it, I should have manifested my dream life”

INNER MAN: “I have manifested my dream life already, i don’t care what the 3d is showing me”

OUTER MAN: “I was supposed to manifest my dream life over the break, now i’ve got to see all those people I hate”

INNER MAN: “They don’t exists and neither do my circumstances”

OUTER MAN: “ I NEED TO MANIFEST MY DREAM BOD BEFORE SUMMER, it’s so long away but i always manage to waste time”

INNER MAN: Huh, what’s time? I am everything, therefore i have everything I want now

NO deadlines, NO due date, NO time limit, closing time, ultimatum, NO NO NO, not for a god, not when you literally have it now

🪼🐅 stop creating deadlines for yourself, you’re a god who doesn’t need them.

you have it now!!

[sanaexus]

social's as reo's girlfriend

-liked by nagi.seishiro, kuniisuke and 198.3k others

yourusername: he loves me (trust)

tagged: reo.miikage

isaichii: is he hiding his face bc he's ashamed or bc he's ashamed? ↳yourusername: COME ON I'M NOT THAT BAD 🙁🙁 ↳isaichii: the last time we went out to a fancy place you said deez nuts to the waiter who asked for your order ↳rin.itoshi: she dressed up as cinderella to take out the trash ↳yourusername: THAT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A SECRET?? ↳reo.miikage: i love you but what the fuck? ↳yourusername: you don't get to say that when you threw a hissy fit over nagi choosing isagi ↳reo.miikage: betrayal often comes from the ones you least expect it from

user1: did he pay you to take that picture ↳yourusername: no ↳user1: know your worth girly ↳reo.miikage: you'll never beat the gold digger allegations this way ↳yourusername: what if they aren't allegations and actually true ↳reo.miikage: what ↳reo.miikage: Y/N WDYM ↳reo.miikage: OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR WDYM BY THAT

nagi.seishiro: without me? ↳yourusername: lil man you better stafu bfr i hurt your balls bc he's with you 24/7 ↳user2: lil man ain't he like 6'0 ↳user3: sometimes lil man do be a 6'0 giant oversized mop of white hair ↳yourusername: he legit pats your hair like a cat, carries you around, pays for all your shi, kicks balls w you tf you want let me have him for sometime ↳nagi.seishiro: choki misses him ↳reo.miikage: im omw dw ↳yourusername: step out of that fucking door and i'll make sure both of you end up like kaiser ↳mikka.kaiser: UN FUCKING CALLED FOR THE FUCK DID I DO ↳yourusername: idk im js a girl ↳alexis.ness: don't feel safe no more not until i'm around ↳yourusername: i like being kidnapped /hj ↳reo.miikage: wtf

-liked by isaichii, megubachi and 187.2k others

yourusername: i've only had mr.teigo for a day and a half but if anything happened to him i would kill everyone in this room and then myself

tagged: reo.miikage

chigi.who: who the fuck is mr.teigo ↳yourusername: SHUR UP GIVR HIM RECPEST YOU FOOL ↳yourusername: hes the purple ballon btw ↳sae_itoshi: shut* give* rsepect* ↳shiidoryu: YOU GOT IT WRONG TO LMFAO ↳itoshi_sae: it was fucking autocorrect ↳shiidoryu: you can be "it" i can be "autocorrect" that way you can fuck me 😊😊 ↳itoshi_sae: and they say romance is dead ↳chigi.who: are we gonna ignore the fact Y/N WOULD COMMIT MURDER FOR A FUCKING BALLOON??? ↳reo.miikage: pretty tame if you ask me ↳nagi.seishiro: it's normal ↳rin.itoshi: surprised she hasn't already ↳isaichii: v v normal ↳megubachi: my monster likes him ↳julian.loki: being honest so would i he's so cute 🎀 ↳yourusername: hOW DARE YOU TWO ASSUME IT'S GENDER !!! THEY SHOULD BE ABLE TO DECIDE FOR THEMSELEVES APOLOGIZE TO MR.TEIGO ↳kuniisuke: YOU CALL HIM "MR" INDICATING HE'S A MALE FUCKING DUMBASS ↳yourusuername: my balloon my rules

megubachi: i'd let mr.teigo braid my hair and then we skip to the near by garden where we swing tgt ↳yourusername: YES OMG YES !!!! ↳reo.miikage: no ↳yourusername: go be 👬 w nagi or something

user3: why do you look so 😾😾 in the first picture ↳yourusername: i pointed at a fish and said "aww look it's so cute" and without any hesitation he's like "yeah reminds me of nagi" ↳nagi.seishiro: L ↳yourusername: i'll beat your ass in fnaf come fight me lil boy ↳nagi.seishiro: i'm betting choki on it ↳oliver.aiku: GASP!11!!1!11 HE'S BETTING CHOKI?? Y/N'S GETTING COOKED ↳yourusername: like how isagi absolutely cooks you<3 ↳eita.otoya: foul? yes. do i want you to keep going? yes

-liked by chigi.who, karasu_tabito and 201.3k others

yourusername: it isn't reo without nagi

tagged: reo.miikage, nagi.seishiro

user4: the third picture LMFAO ↳yourusername: when reo realized his soccer (life) partner got stolen by some puzzle solver ↳mikka.kaiser: IT'S FUCKING FOOTBALL WE'VE GONE OVER THIS ↳hiyori: suck my dick ↳yourusername: ask ness to do that he does it to kaiser all the time, his head is prolly better ↳alexis.ness: no what the fucj ↳yourusername: 🎀👬

nikkoki: damn shawty you seem good at biting lips how ab biting mine @/reo.miikage ↳yourusername: take nagi instead pls

reo.miikage: who the fuck and I MEAN WHO THE FUCK EDITED THAT LAST PICTURE ↳yourusername: it suits you ↳reo.miikage: does not ↳chigi.who: you were plucking out the hairy part of your tooth brush to see if nagi would choose you ↳hiyori: HAIRY PART LMFAO WHAT ↳rin.itoshi: you mean bristles? ↳karasu_tabito: there's a name for that shi? ↳kenyu.yukimiya: no shit?? you don't js call it "the hairy shit on your tooth brush" ↳karasu_tabito: ... ↳eita.otoya: ... ↳kenyu.yukimiya: PLEASE DON'T TELL ME YOU THOUGHT THAT'S WHAT IT WAS CALLED

isaichii: wait if you two were kissing and nagi was playing video games then who the fuck took that picture? ↳yourusername: idk someone randomly dms it to me on instagram and i'm like yeah this is useful ↳reo.miikage: WHAT ↳isaichii: someone sent bro a picture of her and her bf kissing and she's like "yeah thanks" ↳yourusername: how else was i supposed to get pictorial evidence of nagi always being there ↳reo.miikage: that's js lies ↳yourusername: LOOK AT THE FUCKING PICTURE MATE

i'm so sorry this took so long and it's so mid?? but i had no motivation and i js had to post something so

[mavcancees]

compilation post of commentary youtubers talking about dream, no drummyaches edition !

note, i might not exactly like 100% of the things said in these videos BUT they ultimately redeemed dream to a very large audience

starting with i think is the most viewed video right now, Will Dream's Response Actually Fix Anything? by Lessons in Meme Culture. it's 2:40 minutes long and the point is simply to open conversation about him being able to successfully redeem himself, but it has a lovely comment section if you want to scroll through that

Dream Just Responded To Everything by AugustTheDuck, had already spoken about Dream pretty positively, lovely guy, lovely summary [ touches earpiece the main studio is telling me august actually was a dream hater but turned around recently, so noting that down ]

Dream's Response was Perfect, But... by EntLaiser, who previously made a video actually speaking negatively of Dream, completely changed his opinion and talked about how meme culture is being used to justify mass harassment, along with being nice to Dream stans and defending them

Pyrocynical made a video. its bad. don't watch it. he gets cooked in the comments though so that's okay. Acheeto also made a video but i don't like the guy so i'm not linking that either, but it was a good video

Dream Finally Responded To The Allegations by sensitive soci3ty. i really like this video but i especially like the comments that bring up a lot of great points, it was refreshing scrolling through them

LIES! by Omni. Omni is really big on the commentary community so his input is valued, this video is long and goes through a lot of unrelated stuff because it's a news segment, but i linked to the timestamp he talks about Dream. it is long, it is thorough, he READS THE DESCRIPTION which i haven't seen anyone do, pretty good

Dream Might Actually Be Innocent by Saverino. this guy is like, the perfect representation of "i only consumed Dream content through social media for years", the most passive onlooker in the world. and his video is awesome, he took a lot of notes, he resumed Dream's video pretty well, and i feel the way he thinks of Dream is how people will look at dream from now on

Dream Finally Responded by Dolan Dark. it's a slob but it's fucking Dolan Dark and he says he believes he's innocent so who cares W for us

other creators we already know and knew they believed Dream, Hot Sauce Beats did a live reaction and so did Nate Alyn if you'd like to go and support them

Dream's Response Was Actually Good by Saamuel. dream hater admitting he was wrong. all is good in the world

Dream Finally Responded To The Allegations by Optimus. don't watch this video lol. he says a bunch of stupid shit, his comments call him out for it, but i am linking it because this guy is huge on the community, a lot of people were waiting on this video on twitter, and he's very clear on saying the allegations are fake, along with shaming twitter antis for their behaviour

Dream's Response Wasn't Good Enough by luhrix specifically talks about the reaction from antis on twitter to the video and how unreasonable some expectations are when it comes to responding to allegations

Does Dream's Response Make Him Innocent? by Blissolic who VERY BRAVELY calls out coyglone ( the guy behind the dreamwastalen account ) for being a piece of shit

Dream Responded... by Repzion. excellent video no notes, less about dream himself and more a critique of how people consume serious topics as "drama" and farm engagement through it

I Was In Dream's Video by orangepeanut. it's kind of ass but he is in dream's video ! he's the "dream sucked his own dick" guy. he says sorry for baiting and actually apologises to dream which is kind of funny, and he does say dream is innocent. just noting it down for reference

Dream's Response Was GREAT! by TekuToji. another excellent video, nice summary. he did thought the poki xqc dms were real but he corrected himself on the comments lol

Dream Has Returned ( and why you should be excited ) by PurpleMatter. sweet video ! go leave a nice comment :D

this is a different one as it is a full reaction, but it is by Kenji, a VERY famous vtuber, and he was awesome about it and called out his chat several times when they spoke misinformed shit. it's very fun and i'm glad a completely different audience now has a positive view of Dream

[russetfoxfur]

mcyt is NOT beating the criminal allegations

- mumbo did season eight which. ah. produced the wonderful quote: "My parents are still alive... but that can be changed."

- cub eats people

- bad is a cannibal. this is different from eating people, according to my irl. do i want to know

- fit was on 2b2t

- wilbur blew up a country and killed a buncha people

- phil blew up that country too (apparently)

- scar. ah. scar did monopoly mountain and things went downhill from there

- dont even get me started on gem. she started the whole secret life apocalypse. she killed etho at least sixteen times. she is on tumblr which means tango is scared of her AS HE SHOULD BE

- sausage had that whole esmp s1 evil thing. classifying this as sausage because i watched an episode of gem's where he appeared and nothing else and don't actually watch esmp except through osmosis

- didnt joe hills kill a bunch of dogs in s7

- etho ALSO kills people but BADLY (scar boogie kill)

- dream

- *eyeing zedaph's chamber suspiciously* this violates AT LEAST one scientific law or something

- grian. grian my beloved. why are you like this

- jaiden decimated the environment of teyvat

- see lizzie is like her husband. unhinged. shes just bad at surviving so no one gets to see it

- jimmy is like lizzie but more popular for it

- tango is a war criminal but he also makes funny sounds while he commits crimes so i think that negates the whole crimes thing

- while we're at it. all the lifers are criminals EXCEPT SKIZZ EXCEPT SKIZZ EXCEPT SKIZZ

- xisuma boils chicken and eats kiwi skin. worst offense on this list by far

- gem gets a second place on this list because why not. she deserves it

- bdubs bites ankles. probably

- martyn brought the watchers to the life smp which is bad in and of itself. also the Assigned Criminal At Life Series thing

- cherrifire gets an honorary spot on this list mostly because she SHOULD be able to bite ankles. due to aforementioned martyn

anyways please tag w other crimes our blorbos have commited. cheers <3

EDIT: I will be adding more crimes now

- keralis was a capitalist in s7 who bought. rotten flesh. for 128 diamonds. truly exemplifying a billionaire there. dont worry dont worry. hes not a capitalist anymore....but he was once

- pearl poisons people and then has her dogs bite you. reasonable

- cleo does arson. she also kills people. but she does this a lot so it also negates the crimes

- don't mess with forgelabs

- ren has become a dictator at least twice. likes bloodshed. also treebark counts for all the anguish it causes everyone. also also ACALS (assigned criminal at life series)

ALSO if anyone is going to yell at me for fit being on 2b2t. i do not watch him. he is only here because my mcyt irls go insane about him. like all the time. in fact i don't watch qsmp or dsmp but theyre popular enough i know a bit about them. <3

[punkishtoxtricity]

a comprehensive list of problems with lily orchards pokemon video

there is a point to where my criticisms just repeats so they’ll get different down the post

generation 1

-she claims that blue is a friendly rival when the whole point of him is that he’s a dumb kid. he’s a cocky 11 year old who thinks he’s better than you and grows to realize it’s not all about strong pokemon

-complains about length of dungeons such as lavender tower and silph co but for some reason likes rock tunnel??

-complains about other youtubers strategies for gyms that are usually meant for nuzlockes and challenge runs when she’s playing casual

-acts like she is so much better than everyone else for her strategy when it’s been done to a more extreme degree before

-acts like having butterfree on her team is some feat of strength

generation 2

-thinks silver is the worse character ever and all around a jerk

-complains about the ai of the game beating her when in reality her team just kinda. sucks

-complains about having bad pokemon and then doesn’t catch the good ones that the game literally hands to you

-straight up does not do kanto. has me thinking she just didn’t wanna fight red

generation 3

-this is the start of her being very weird about gardevoir. she calls ralts her child and then throughout the video has art of her being romantic with it which is. eugh. apparently she has incest accusations so i’m not that suprised

-calling magma and aqua the best teams of the series because “they don’t impede on the story”

-complains about the legendaries

-complains about the water routes and proceeds to throw out ideas that don’t make sense for an ocean

generation 4

-this is the start of her hacking in ralts as her starter. it’s very funny because it’s legitimately obtainable in every game she plays besides gen 5

-complains about parts of the game being too hard when she’s using ralts. which dies if it gets touched by a slight breeze

-whines about there being too much dialogue and then genuinely does not understand the story. common theme around all the story driven pokemon games

-she’s VERY annoying about the rivals. like they’re there for a reason

-the start of her acting like her calm mind strategy is the best thing ever. calls other youtubers stupid once again for their cynthia strategies. she can’t choose between gardevoir being the most broken pokemon and blaming ralts sucking on the game(the whole video is a big contrarian fest)

gen 5

oh boy. there’s a lot

-complains about there being too much story in the game and calls the game a peta reply. which is funny because peta is an american company and pokemon is japanese. (also the peta criticism of pokemon didn’t come around until AFTER black and white)

-compares a character who is a victim of abuse and has been indoctrinated by what is basically a cult to a podcast alpha male incel. looking at the allegations against her this also makes sense as to why she doesn’t like him

-whines more about there being too much reading. at this point i started believing she was straight up illiterate

-whines about the amount of rival fights and how it’s “impeding exploration” i don’t think she wants to play an actual video game she just want a pet sim

-misunderstands the whole moral of the game, being that not everything is black and white

generation 6

-complains about not being able to get gardevoirs megastone before the post game, so obviously she hacks it in.

-goes on a tangent about shiny pokemon and how their community is stupid, misunderstanding that people just do it FOR FUN

-also complains about something she calls “damage inflation” with the opponents being able to 1 shot ralts. this is all actually because ralts has god awful defenses, which she ignores.

-loses to what is one of the easiest gyms in the entire series. not really anything wrong with this i just honestly think she sucks at the game(skill issue)

-says x and y are the best games because there’s not much dialogue

gen 7

-once again spends the whole hour complaining about the amount of talking and then doesn’t analyze what the characters are actually saying. still believe she can’t read

-compares gladion to a hitler youth which is??? he’s hawaiian and light skinned but he’s still just an abused kid trying to find his way in lofe(doubt she actually read his dialogue)

-complains about team skill being “an unfunny joke” when the whole point of the team is that guzma was an abused kid who took in those in need and just formed a group of thugs

-still complains about “damage inflation” instead of actually changing her strategy or stepping out of her comfort zone pokemon wise because ralts sucks against the water trial

-goes on a tangent about how lillie should have been the main character while still choosing to mash through her dialogue

generation 8

-whines about dexit and calls dynamax the worst mechanic when it is in fact loved by vgc players

-calls milo a twunk (she doesn’t know what that means)

-a lot of the same problems of the previous gens, can’t read and doesn’t understand the story

-she’s also weird about gardevoir in this one. i think she just REALLY wants to fuck it

generation 9

-whines about dialogue some more

-literally all of the complaints at this point are the same. she can’t form an actual opinion of it bc she can’t FUCKING PAY ATTENTION TO WHAG THEYRE SAYING

overall

-she’s a racist creep to japanese folk outside of the video so hmmm

-has apparently assaulted someone so i see why she has no sympathy for the characters that are victims of abuse

-the weirdest about the pokemon and the characters. compares them to nazis a bunch

-is unfunny

anyway thanks for reading all the way through. the vid made me loose 200 brain cells and i will never stop hating

[crsssie]

crooked windows

word count: 1.5k || pt2 of sheer curtains

summary: What is there to miss if you're right there with him?

"How rare for us to be able to get a day off like this." Tim rolls down the windows to the car, sighing as you enjoy the light breeze.

"Well, we're in Spain for a reason. Might as well enjoy it." You hand him the water as you glance at the coast. "Don't forget to put sunscreen on. Don't want you burning and peeling skin."

"You're being dramatic." He huffs. "We're going to the beach house for a business meeting. It's not even a day off."

"The rest of the day is." You close your eyes to feel the wind. "We can stay back and just left the chauffeur know."

"I suppose. Did you bring beach clothes or something?"

"Maybe." You grin. "I brought you a change too. We can have dinner at the club."

"I thought you hated those."

"Not when you're dressed like a man in finance. Too bad you're not 6'5."

"Hey." Tim grumbles. "Don't be mean."

"I'm not." You huff. "You'd think all that stretching and gymnastics would go to your height, but nooo. Where did all that shit you were eating even go?"

"The stress of the two of us ignoring our soulmate bond." He grumbles. "I don't miss that awful feeling of the two of us being apart."

"Hey, you started it."

"Yeah, I did." He huffs. "Only cuz you suck, though."

You fake a look of offense, turning the other way as the rest of the ride is in silence. 

"I was kidding." Tim mumbles.

"You're the one who refused to stick around. Maybe you're just born to be a serial cheater."

"Hey—"

You roll your eyes, puffing your cheeks as Tim sighs.

"I'm sorry."

"Save it for after the business meeting."

You don't know how many people have accused you of getting the position because you were Tim's soulmate, but to be fair, it's not like you knew which son you were applying to be the secretary of. HR was in charge of all of that. You're pretty sure Tim didn't know it was you until Bruce had caught your name on a list of new recruits and told Tim to set things straight with you before he fucked up again. You're glad at least someone had a voice of reason in this entire conversation. 

You still fight though, you know, as normal people do. You wouldn't be childhood friends if the two of you didn't wrestle and tussle a little. It's only comedic when it's in the privacy of your shared vehicle. To the public, Tim has to keep up the appearance of a soulmate who nearly fucked himself over when he decided to ignore your warning. Something something soulmate propaganda something something no flaws in a system full of them, something something—

"We're here." The chauffeur nods. "Shall I come after the meeting?"

"I'll let you know in advance. We'll most likely stay a little while after." You hum. "And if I book the hotel we're meeting at, then you can come grab us tomorrow."

"Noted. Work safe."

"Drive safe." You step out of the car as Tim offers you a hand, and you smile.

You're never beating the publicity allegations.

"There's nothing after the meeting, right?"

"Mhm." You nod. "What's up?"

"Beach day sounds so good. If I remember right, this hotel has a good massage parlor too." Tim sighs. "Wine tonight?"

"Yeah, sure sounds like a night for me to be sipping on wine and not beer at a random parlor."

"Go figure. It is Spain."

"Can I get a beer in Germany next time?"

"Are you going to blow my card again?"

"Yeah." You lick your lips, grinning. "I'm blowing your card."

"That Birkin from me wasn't enough, huh?"

"No. It'd be better to give me mansions next time." You wave at the men at the table as you both step in. "Gentlemen."

"Why if it isn't the Waynes' golden secretary."

"Honored to hold that title." You have everyone settle down and Tim starts on the meeting. You've grown used to it. The men like pushing him because he's almost always younger than them, and if someone was the same age as him, then it was truly a fifty-fifty on whether or not they could hold their ground. Some like sucking up to the older men. Not everyone gets where they are because they deserve it. Most people are born lucky, you know, like Tim. You're not born lucky, but you suppose luck had a large part to play in your life. 

You let Tim take care of most of the meeting, your mind wandering off when you know he won't need you anymore, wondering if you'd get to actually relax at the beach. You'd probably end up talking to Tim the whole time and working out your problems again. Healthy communication but unhealthy habits. Maybe the two of you were just born to butt heads at all times. You still wonder if the two of you were really romantic soulmates or if the two of you just could not stay away from a toxic relationship. You know, the classic "but daddy, I love him!" moment for the both of you. God, the two of you need therapy.

"That concludes our meeting." Tim raises a brow at the men. "Any questions?"

The look he gives them indicates that he wants no questions at all. 

The men catch on enough, shaking their heads as they file out one by one.

"Please tell me we're staying here for the night."

"Just booked the suite. You wanna suntan?"

"And get burnt?"

"Bottomless brunch is too late, huh?"

"Bottomless brunch tomorrow, please. I have no meetings unless you scheduled one." Tim begs. "God knows I need it."

"Nope. We just have a dinner in the evening."

"Bottomless brunch tomorrow." 

"Yeah, yeah." You hum. "Ready to check in? Our luggage will arrive later."

"You really are abusing the privileges of being a rich man now, huh?" Tim clicks his tongue. "Did you bring my trunks?"

"Yeah. Why wouldn't I?"

"I don't know, maybe 'cuz you hate me?"

"Tim, I don't hate you."

"I know." He mumbles. "I wonder if we could go back to how we were before sometimes."

"We're not children anymore." You follow him out, stepping into the lobby to check in, eyes focused on the way you get deja vu from the way he turns around. "Have we done this before?"

"When we were kids, once." He holds his hand out for the bag in your hand, and you comply. "We booked a hotel room overnight once because our parents were both gone. I booked the hotel and told the receptionist that we just needed a room for a night since we were all wet from the rain."

"Right, since taxis in Gotham never mean anything good." You mumble. "Do you miss it?"

"No. You're right here. Why would I?"

Tim's honesty is enough to surprise you, blinking at him like a deer in headlights as he continues walking. You wonder somedays what he got from keeping you around. You argued over everything because of the differences in the ways you've both been raised, and even if he had a visible soft spot for you in the vulnerable mornings spent tangled in each other's limbs, you wondered just why he kept you around.

"Tim."

You stop right where you are, staring at Tim as he raises a brow at you from the elevator.

"What?"

"Do you love me? Or are you doing this out of an obligation of being my soulmate?"

"We've been over this. Neither of us can love properly." He holds the elevator door open with one hand, pulling you in with a roll of his eyes. "I love you to the best that I can, though you deserve someone who can love better. You're my soulmate, and even in a world where you aren't, I'll still find you. There. Better?"

You roll your eyes.

"Timothy Jackson Drake, you suck ass at comforting people."

"Thanks, my parents were barely around."

"Did my mom not raise you better?"

"She raised both of us, and look where that got us."

You punch him, rolling your eyes as he cracks a grin.

"My mom has nothing to do with your shitty attachment issues. I came out just fine."

"We'll get through it." Tim hums. "Together."

"Awfully bold words coming from a guy who's been dating me for years and known me for even more yet refuses to pop a ring."

"A ring won't fix our arguing."

"This is arguing?"

Truly, it's not, which is exactly why the weight of the ring in Tim's back pocket feels so much heavier than it actually is. 

Not that he'd tell you. 

He'd just show you.

[princesspetticoat]

The Muse of Her Ruin

Artist Modern AU: Chapter 1/? — Caramel

Summary:

Los Angeles was supposed to be your perfect canvas, but the struggle to make it leaves you feeling burnt out – until Agatha Harkness paints you into her world.

In her hands, you’re more than an artist, and she knows exactly how to mold you into her newest masterpiece.

Tags:

agatha!reader, age gap, mommy kink, slow burn, mean!agatha, possessive!agatha, AU: Art world of Los Angeles, portrait of a witch on fire, reader is babygirl, the witch wears prada, sugar mommy vibes, slight Rio/reader but only to make Agatha jealous, agatha can’t beat the AI allegations, dacryphilia, eventual smut, angst, MDLG, bratty bottom, BDSM, praise kink, degradation, strap-ons, anal, dub con, slight piss kink, squirting, power dynamics, possible memory loss and magic maybe idk, kitten play, electrostimulation, humiliation, overstimulation, exhibitionism for the art, let the bodies hit the floor, more tags later because i’m sure i’ll find something else to be foul about

Links: Twitter | AO3

Chapter 1: Caramel

It isn’t the first time a beautiful woman has stopped you in your doom scrolling on the internet. You’ve had your share of rabbit-holing through Instagram profiles, tagged photos, your finger hovering over the DM button with a wave of confidence that only comes when you’ve had a drink or two in your system.

But this woman, this one comes with an extension of discovery.

Just by googling her name, a thousand articles pop up. Art piece installations cascade every website, timeline, and city cultural journal. Jesus, then the red carpet photos multiply as the SEO of your web browser catches on to your sudden enthrall of dark brown hair and piercing blue eyes.

Oh, and the hashtags. #WitchyArt #HarknessAndDesire #CursedCanvas. Layers of art plummet before you, most requesting to select if you’d like to view the art or not because of its lewd nature, violating community guidelines.

#AgathaHarknessUnveiled

A public invitation to forbiddenness. You’re intrigued.

Then more pictures of her show up, next to her work, her models, famous celebrities that you never knew were part of the same circle. You realize you’ve been following her art closely for years, and had even gone to one of her art installations at the LACMA a couple years back.

She has no social media and you quickly piece together why you haven’t been able to put a face to the name until now. The Agatha Harkness.

You curse yourself for living and breathing on Instagram, reading little excerpts about her pieces here and there, never proceeding past searching her name up one single time after seeing her most famous artwork grace the official Broad Museum verified account:

The Unbound: Agatha Harkness - A Palette of Desire contemporary collection of ‘22.

Ask AI or Search: Agatha Harkness

…

However, you were met with the reflection of: ‘⚠️ zero search results found’ staring back at you on your phone screen, and that was that.

Now, you pull open your ‘Painting Inspo’ Pinterest board to see a piece of hers pinned neatly between other modern art you admire. The pin is plainly titled and paired with a now-purple hyperlink to an article, with one of the most commanding portraits of her in a suit, standing sharply next to her work.

It had all been right there, connected, laid out before you. You scold yourself again. You could’ve been in this woman’s circle the moment you moved to Los Angeles. Only now she’s magically moved from your subconscious to reality.

All it took was a simple Google search to be completely floored.

Right place, right time, you think, as it were. Originally, you were filtering through junior-level marketing positions, revamping your resume for the umpteenth time. Waitressing just wasn’t cutting it anymore, you needed a big girl job. Even if you didn’t have the experience.

And, to be honest, people really do act like that in Los Angeles. Customer service is nothing short of unbearable.

You’d huffed and slammed your laptop, tired of the almost-hour it took to submit one clean job application, flopped on your bed, and began the inevitable doom scroll.

And there she was, in all her glory. Featured in one major headline that caught your eye (apart from every photo ever of her maddeningly hypnotizing smile).

Grand Opening of the Harkness Collection, March 2025 — DTLA, Seeking Social Media Manager Position.

You could do it, you think.

The link to apply for the position already looks infinitely better than the bland, morose copy/paste templates thrown around every typical job website like a hot potato.

This just might get your foot in the door.

You’ve painted your whole life, always the kid doodling in the corner of your notebooks in class. You’ve done your fair share of moronically smacking people with your big art portfolio at the end of each year in high school when you rounded corners.

Art school in Portland had its ups and downs. Your father used every last penny he had to see your dreams come true, and your mother hated you for it. Blamed you, even, for sucking his wallet dry. But it was of his own accord to pay for tuition, and you had nothing else to show for it. You had a real talent.

At least, that’s what Mrs. Montgomery had told you.

Your art teacher for grades 11-12 was someone who was stern but had a mother’s touch. You really only knew the stern part back home, and then some, after the divorce.

But Mrs. Montgomery not only put you on a pedestal, she really critiqued you. She actually pushed you, improved your skills and adorned her Letter of Recommendation to your chosen college with accolades of admiration you couldn’t possibly achieve from your own mother.

If it wasn’t obvious already, you were completely smitten. And you know what else? You could trust her as far as you could throw her.

The after school meetings, the one-on-one sessions after class to help finish up an end of the year project. Anything to get a sliver of praise. Anything to prevent the bus ride home.

After college, though, you moved to Los Angeles in hopes of joining a gallery or an art community. You got sucked into the limelight, the overbearing and overwhelming nature of the city of angels. Everyone seemingly looks better than you, doing more than you, everyone trying to prove themselves somewhere. Nothing felt real.

You felt like a failure.

Email threads to galleries went stale and not to mention renting out studios could carve a hole into your credit card. It’s been three whole years since moving here after college, stuck in the same job you started with. The only real friend you made was from college, Oliver, who really was the one who dragged you out to California in the first place.

One friend, one lame job, one-room studio apartment, and no art to show for it. You start to think that this dream was meant to fizzle out and you’re supposed to become another cog in the wheel of Capitalism just like everybody else.

Whatever. You craft a partially-truthful resume, and an overzealous cover letter.

Somewhere in there you lie about managing a social media page for a cafe that doesn’t exist, and that you’ve worked with a few semi-recognizable artists in the industry as their interns. Right.

But for the record, this is working for Agatha Harkness. You’ve got to make it look like you’re somebody. You imagine yourself at her side on those red carpets, getting to pick her brain about all the art she’s created. You’ll get to show her the paintings you made, she’ll praise you, you’ll blush, and you’ll fall pathetically under her spell. Fuck.

Do you want the job or do you want her?

You suppose wanting both isn’t selfish. It’s ambitious. And you’re sick of circling around a realm that’s just out of reach.

You look at the unfinished canvases stowed in the corner of your apartment, the murky ‘mystery soup’ graying in several mason jars that scatter your work area. The dried paint, the tubes of acrylics strewn about. You can’t even remember the last time you painted.

If a hot, older woman was the motivation to be the artist you were always meant to be, then fuck it. You hit ‘submit’ on the application and sigh, closing your laptop with a better feeling of finality than the first time.

You never really get your hopes up about a job position, but for the rest of the day you find yourself tapping away anxiously, your mind scattered with the possibility of Agatha Harkness, of all people, becoming your boss.

————————————

The next morning you’re disruptively awakened by the buzzing of your phone. You begrudgingly hit ‘accept’ on the unknown number and pick up the line.

“Hello?” you answer and do your best not to sound utterly corpse-like.

“Hi!” a sweet voice greets you from the other end, “my name is Jennifer Kale, calling about the social media manager position for Ms. Harkness. Is this —?”

“Yes,” you shoot up, now seated in bed and exclaim before she can even finish her sentence. “This is she.”

She goes on to tell you how impressed she was with your resume and your expert copyright. You did always have a way with words, you forget how powerful they are as a way to get you exactly what you want.

“I saw in your CV that you have your work displayed at a cafe in Echo Park, is that right?”

You tell her of the few pieces you have displayed there and how you’ve made good friends with the owner. Jen mentions she’s relayed your portfolio, website, and resume to Agatha already and your breath instantly hitches.

She then goes to say that Agatha would like to personally meet you at that cafe for an interview. Tomorrow.

You nod and stutter a quick ‘yes’ into the speaker, forgetting you were on the phone at all. Lost in the possibility — no, actuality — of meeting Agatha.

After exchanging times and contact information, the line clicks blank and all the roaring thoughts begin to pour in. The anxiety, the expectations, the thought of being examined, let alone perceived by this powerful woman.

Your stomach kind of flutters at the thought, though. Her domineering presence picking you apart until you tell her exactly what she wants…and then she’ll hire you.

The confidence you feel mixed with the sheer horror of pretending you’re more than you say you are. You hope she doesn’t see through the lies.

But then again, so many people in the world have jobs they aren’t qualified for. They don’t even know what they’re doing, especially bosses and CEOs. So you’re sure Agatha can appreciate a little ‘fake it til you make it’; particularly from someone who really wants this.

————————————

You arrive infinitely early to the interview in the car you never use since everything in Downtown LA is right outside your apartment door.

The parking was the biggest hurdle but you gave yourself ample time to prepare.

The sun beats down on you as you exit your car, despite the crisp air of the early Spring morning. You shuffle down the hill to the sprawling city strip of hipster cafes, vintage thrifts, and mom ‘n pop shops. Your favorite cafe is squished between them, a true hole in the wall.

One of your favorite baristas greets you from behind the counter when you walk in. It looks like you beat the morning rush, everyone already taken to their seats, noses pressed to their laptops in concentration.

You order your favorite iced latte and wait at the bar, albeit with impatience. The barista questions your nervousness and you lean in with excitement.

“I have an interview,” you smile.

“Here?!”

“Yes, here, well — not here here, but yeah. It’s with one of the most well known artists. She’s…fascinating.”

And you gush over her for a moment, her art, her looks, the job position, while periodically checking the clock that sits behind the espresso bar, like, every five seconds.

You notice their smile grows wider as you wrap up your story, handing you your latte. But what you don’t notice is the person who just walked in, approaching the next spot in line.

“Have a great interview,” the barista dazzles in a cheeky whisper, eyes flitting to someone behind you.

Your realization hits when you turn and your latte hits her, square in the chest.

The cold liquid clashes between you two as you bump into each other, the cap coming clean off, with bits of ice clattering to the floor.

“Oh my god I am so sorry,” you babble, reaching for napkins and grabbing a fistful from who knows where.

You scramble to wipe up the mess, avoiding eye contact as Agatha steps back to examine the huge spot now staining her crisp white shirt. She can’t even get a word in before you scurry to the bathroom.

How stupid can you possibly be?

You beat yourself up in your thoughts as you gather yourself, and, clumsily, several ice cubes that managed to fall into your bra.

With a wet paper towel you clean the coffee off your front as much as you can before taking a deep breath, fixing your hair in the mirror and hoping when you step out of the bathroom, she’ll still be there waiting for you.

The bathroom door teeters and squeaks awkwardly as you push it open. You survey the cafe lobby and find Agatha opening a notebook and pulling out papers, and your resume.

You don’t think she realized you’re the one she’s supposed to interview. And you can’t even weigh what scenario would be more embarrassing.

You slide into the chair across from her, snaking your bag down to the floor and pulling out your own resume copy. You notice her blouse is completely drink-free and it catches you off guard. The coffee stains on your shirt are terribly evident despite your efforts in cleaning yourself up.

“You should’ve written your name as Caramel at the top of your resume,” she states while still looking down at the paper. Oh, of course she knows it’s you.

Looking down at yourself you realize there’s a streak of caramel syrup dripping down your cleavage.

Your eyes flick to hers, and she’s looking at you now, for the first time. There’s a long beat that clenches your throat and you forget how to speak.

You know her eyes are blue but holy shit, they’re palpably blue. And they hold yours in suspension, her gaze lingering for a moment too long before returning to her paper.

Your cheeks warm with a feverish blush, and you take a napkin to wipe the syrup away, leaving your skin sticky and shiny.

Her eyes move to your cleavage again as she shifts slightly in her seat, adjusting her stature. She scans over your resume agonizingly slow now and this long gap of silence has your nerves bubbling.

Maybe it’s a good thing the coffee spilled, because you’re sure the caffeine would give you a panic attack right about now.

“It doesn’t state in here that you use condiments as a painting medium, so, tell me your process,” Agatha jokes, but her tone is blunt.

You breathe a laugh and smile anyway, wanting to squash the awkwardness and tension so badly. Taking a second, you muster up an ounce of courage. You have to prove yourself now after this train wreck.

“I could probably use caramel as a medium,” you shrug, meeting her stark gaze again.

Agatha quirks one brow, egging you to go on.

“It’s got a similar consistency to a fast dry. Could probably even be worked into a glaze too. It could make a really nice maple color over some oils. I work with acrylics, watercolors, too, but it probably would leave paintings like that,” you take in a ragged breath, your mind catching up to just how stupid you sound, “…sticky.”

She smiles for the first time, a wicked smolder perking the corners of her lips. Amusement flares in her eyes, and you swear you can almost see them darken.

“Your skills?”

You take a deep breath before you begin, grounding yourself. “Time management, organization, I’m ambitious and work well with others. I also have really good memori –”

“You know,” she dawdles, “none of your references called me back,” she states, practically disregarding the answer to her last question.

Your mouth parts in silence.

“Oh,” is the only pathetic word you can assemble. “That’s weird,” you breathe, thoroughly fucking failing.

“I’m sure they’re all busy artists.”

And you just know she’s seeing right through you.

“But…your copywriting is very good. I’ve seen your social media, your website, you’ve got a way with words, hon.”

Your neck and chest must be as red as your face now. But the way she looks at you, blue eyes dark yet twinkling with intrigue, you’re blushing for an entirely different reason.

“Thank you,” you manage, and you give her a truthful look that you really need this, that you really want this. Because you just want something to go right for once in your life. You need to find your purpose again.

It’s like she can hear your thoughts as she studies you. It’s hard to look away when you meet her eyes again. As if she’s holding you in the palm of her hand, weighing you, rolling you between her fingers, testing to see if she should clench and squeeze the dream right from your heart.

“You know, I don’t normally meet with artists in this circumstance, or even in such a…sticky manner.”

And you blush for the millionth time.

“But I’d like to test your writing skills. I’m hosting a live painting session this weekend that I want you to come to and write a little mockup article for. If I dig it, you get the job, sweetheart.”

Her words drip like honey, the opportunity laid out before you, sounding sweet to your ears. It’s almost unbelievable.

“Wow, thank you so much Ms. Harkness,” you fawn, beaming a smile.

“Agatha,” she says warmly, holding out her hand for you to shake.

You hesitate for a moment before taking her hand in yours, her slender, delicate fingers just barely grazing the inside of your wrist. Something flutters in your stomach at the contact, like a chemical reaction right in your core.

The embrace is subtle, but it carries the weight of something more than just a job, more than just a task she’s asking you to complete. You tug your hand away, but the air between you stays charged.

“I won’t let you down,” you exhale earnestly.

Agatha blinks at you slowly, that smile never faltering, “good girl.”

She rises now, collecting her papers and notebook, storing them inside a black tote bag. “My assistant will be in touch.”

You absentmindedly nod to her, feeling her presence leave, with the click of the cafe door echoing in your ears. You’re completely dumbfounded. What just happened?

Did you actually manage to fake your way to the top? You have a real shot now at getting this position. And the way she looked at you, like she just knew what you were capable of?

Her request is simple, just a mockup article. Nothing truly serious. The significance of her words, though, make your heart race. The heady mix of exhilaration and nerve wracking anticipation makes you dizzy at the thought. And her praise.

Good girl.

You’re completely slack-jawed at the thought of it again. You just know you’re in for something more than just a mere task.

Whatever she wants from you, you’ll give it – willingly, completely, without question.

[moonsaver]

thoughts on sunday after 2.2? i remember playing through the quest and being FLABBERGASTED the whole time like my GOD he is not beating the yan! allegations after this one. literally so much about his philosophy and perspective on life, and everything seemed to align with that sort of mindset imo and it was just like LSKJDGLSKJDGLJSFJKD

I wanted to answer both asks because i really want an opportunity to just go full blown in on sunday right now!!

Also, YESS i know right? I want to put him in a little glass jar enclosure and shake him around a bit. He's my creature dont touch him!!

Tw: yandere, manipulation, lovebombing(?)

Okay so one thing that I majorly believe in is Sunday was actually deeply lonely, and was much more prone to loneliness than Robin ever was, especially considering the fork in the road regarding their "paths" with Harmony vs Order. I feel that Robin was generally able to get along well with the adults like an amiable kid, but Sunday only ever got along with adults being looked at like "an old soul" and was let in on far more complicated and morally messed up stuff earlier than Robin, which could explain his tendency to never share about his own troubles (as Robin mentions).

And I feel like having been bottling up these feelings for so damn long, it's honestly messed with his head. And the slightest bit of resistance from anyone supposed to be under his control is met with overwhelming "disciplinary actions".

If yan!sunday ever manages to sit down and have a quiet, long talk with his darling, it's going to be quite possibly the most frustrating talk ever. He's not wrong, but he's not completely right either. Trying to disprove him is futile – he'll bolt down each and every argument against his ideals, and honestly starts trying to embed his own ideals into you bit by bit. Like water droplets on a weathered rock. He wears down his darling over time, and it's quite possibly over for you if he decides he wants to throw in the whole "triple faced soul" hypnotising debacle. You can't hide a single thing from this man.

Of course, I don't think he'll go that far unless it's absolutely necessary. Or he has, and you just don't realise it until you're stuck deep inside of a sweet little dream. However, I feel like even if you have the complete opposite views, he's still going to let you be for the most part. He doesn't want to transform his darling – frankly speaking, that's practically changing the very person who he loved in the first place. He holds a bit of sincerety in his heart, which he constantly condemns, but still keeps; a part of him does hope his darling comes around to his views, and at least learns to adjust to them instead of vehemently resisting. He still wants to be able to maintain some level of equity/equality in your "relationship" (as long as he still has more control, of course).

In the other route as mentioned in the second ask, if darling does have similar, but not same views, Sunday is a bit disappointed, although he does suppose it's not the worst..

He's most likely going to ask you about your views, and earnestly listen and make sense of it. Sits down and quietly, patiently listens to you as you try and explain your own views, why you think he's wrong, etc.. and for a moment, you think he's actually being.. kind of sweet. Which is promptly shaken off in the next phase –

He becomes the biggest ASSHOLE.

At first he's pleasant about it; gently persuading you to consider other ideas (his, basically). Sooner that persuading turns to thinly restrained coercion, until he's in a full-blown argument with you.

He starts out with each and every point of yours, whittles it down, breaks and crumbles it apart and hands it back to you with his own, perfectly polished views. He denies, manipulates or twists every little thing you said to his own benefit, speaking in that calm, factual voice of his with pityingly warm, golden eyes that frustrate you; this is the man that's bending every word of yours to his benefit, but at the same time he has so much loneliness and earnest in his eyes you don't know what to say, whether it'll be too harsh, or not. It's a weird game of manipulation and wordplay that eventually breaks you down into hot tears, which he so gently and lovingly wipes away after taking off his gloves. Burying your head into his neck and softly whispering comforting words into your ear; I know, darling, it's hard. I'm sure it's not easy to accept, I know, dear.

It's frustrating, but it's so.. comforting and loving that you almost don't want it to stop. His hand is lovingly petting your head or rubbing your back, his voice coos at you in comfort. If you didn't know any better – you'd think he was more akin to a siren than an angel.