#a feeling that her model delivered

[unendingphantasm]

idk anything about the big titty time-themed hololve vtuber but the face on her official 3d model has a really nice sharp and distinct silhouette from the side i love it

[roxannepolice]

[potter-imagines]

Brat (Satoru Gojo x Reader)

Prompt: Satoru and his girlfriend Y/n are in an argument over his celebrity crush on Inoue Waka. Y/n is ignoring Satoru which absolutely drives him crazy.

Pairing: Satoru x reader

Warnings: some swearing, light light light smut (making out), gojo being gojo

Word Count: 7k

Notes: this is set broadly around season 2 episode 2 plot, with some clear changes from the original episode. riko and suguru are included.

“You changed your home screen?” Suguru commented nonchalantly. He took notice of the sudden alteration to his friend’s phone almost immediately. The difference wasn’t hard to spot seeing as the last two years all Satoru had used for his background images were various photos of his girlfriend, Y/n, whom he loved showing off.

Suguru was accustomed to the photos being circulated in a never ending pattern, Y/n and Satoru at the beach, Y/n in a scandalous position she beat him into removing, Y/n sleeping on his chest, Y/n and him sharing sweets, Y/n on her birthday grinning widely as she sat in front of her cake, the couple doing mud masks together, Y/n in front of the eiffel tower, and so on, however it was entirely new for him to see the famous, bikini clad Japanese model as his friend's home screen instead of his girlfriend. Suguru’s brow was raised as Satoru chuckled to himself.

“To Inoue Waka.” Gojo smiled in triumph, like he was in some war that he had finally found the upper hand in. “Y/n and I are in a fight- it’s certain to get a reaction out of her.” 

Despite his explanation, Suguru found himself lost in confusion. Only a night prior to leaving for their mission to protect and deliver the star plasma vessel, Geto had been sitting in attendance as he witnessed the couple's one of many bickering sessions. He really couldn’t blame Y/n much, seeing as he also found himself disagreeing with the white haired prodigy on the regular as well, yet this fight was one hundred percent, without a doubt in his mind, Satoru Gojo’s fault. Being as the argument was his wrong doing, Suguru couldn’t understand why his friend would sink himself deeper in the grave with his strong willed girlfriend rather than admit he messed up. And he certainly couldn’t see how an image of another woman- a model their argument steamed from, in a bikini too tight her boobs were practically over spilling from, would help his case.

The pair seemed to forget where they were until the young voice of the vessel of Tengen-sama herself reminded them of her presence. 

“Listen to me!” Riko shouted, irritation lacing her words. The young girl was set to explode off on the boys like a firecracker for their rude behavior in dismissing her heartfelt declaration on becoming one with Tengen-sama and Tengen-sama one with her, when suddenly the mention of the feminine name caught her attention. “Wait, Y/n?” She questioned. Riko didn’t see another female insight besides Kuroi but she sure hoped there was a sane female mind among the brainless men sitting among her. 

At her words, the man with hair white as snow leaned against the couch and ran a hand along his face. He narrowed his gaze, giving the girl a leer as if he found it ridiculous he had to explain who this Y/n was to her. 

“My strikingly beautiful, insanely stubborn, bratty, gorgeous girlfriend.” He moaned as his head fell back against the sofa, like the explanation was difficult enough. Through his dark rimmed glasses Gojo looked over to Riko, changing the topic all together. “I bet you don’t have many friends if you talk like that.”

“We won’t have to feel bad sending you off.” Suguru muttered. 

“I talk normally at school!” She expressed in an exacerbated tone, then quickly stepped forward pointing an accusing finger in the white haired man’s face. “And it’s you who shouldn’t have any friends! You certainly don’t deserve a girlfriend if you’re calling her a brat behind her back, you should be ashamed of yourself!” She reprimanded. 

Suguru lifted his gaze, intrigued by her final comment. Satoru didn’t actually think of his girlfriend as a brat, but of course Riko didn’t understand how the couple worked and there was no time to explain how Gojo called his girlfriend a brat in an endearing way- unlike his usage for it towards her. When Gojo used it towards Riko, he meant it. If they had the time, Geto might even explain how Y/n commonly refers to her boyfriend as a ‘trust fund baby’ or ‘a prick’, both of which are factual, yet it’s out of love between the two. 

Satoru ignored her quip, finding her opinion on his relationship totally useless. He knew his love for Y/n was larger than his will to live, yet he saw no point in expressing that to this girl. Riko didn’t know one thing about his relationship with Y/n so why did he care what the girl thought? Sure, he probably did sound like a complete jerk, however he couldn’t care less if the star plasma vessel before him found him to be a bad person for what she was hearing. 

Suguru glanced at Satoru, curious to see if the sorcerer was going to give a reaction however the six eye holder simply scrolled away on his phone, searching for the perfect image of his celebrity model crush to use as his lock screen. 

“School…” She mumbled out. “Kuroi, what time is it?!”

Satoru, Suguru, and Kuroi all sat scattered around the abandoned outdoor pool of Renchoku Girls' Junior High, all thinking of different things. Kuroi found herself reflecting on the time she spent practically raising the young girl who would soon be sacrificing herself as a vessel. Suguru’s mind wandered to how they were going to keep Riko safe until making it to Jujutsu High. All Satoru could think about was why his girlfriend wouldn’t answer his calls. Dangling his shoes above the water, Satoru kicked at the murky water in vex as yet another call went unanswered. 

“Huh?! She keeps sending me straight to voicemail- Suguru, let me borrow your phone!” Satoru failed to turn around as he extended his arm behind himself, impatiently awaiting Geto’s cellphone.

Begrudgingly Suguru dug his phone out from his side pocket and handed the cell phone over to his hysterical friend. He had already seen this play out a million times before and was positive the outcome would be no different; Gojo does something easily avoidable and pisses Y/n off, they get into an argument because it physically pains Gojo to admit his wrong doings, Y/n ignores him, he pretends he’s fine and acts as if he enjoys the distance created, that lasts for a few hours at most, then Gojo acts like a crazed person trying to get his girlfriend to respond while she is clearly still upset. 

Miles away in Tokyo, Y/n saw the face of her good friend Suguru pop up on her screen. Her brain screamed it was just her idiot boyfriend trying to convince her to speak to him. Maybe it really was Suguru calling to inform her of their mission. Hesitantly, Y/n accepted the call and lifted the phone to her ear.

“Hi, pretty girl- uh?! She hung up on me!” Gojo shrieked as the line went dead on the other end. He pulled the phone away from his ear and stared the the screen in disbelief, almost as if the mobile device had zapped him like an electrical shock. His mouth hung wide, a look of absolute astonishment polarizing his features. A few moments of staring at the blank screen passed by, Gojo awaiting a returning call from his love to declare it was all some prank, yet nothing came. Suguru outstretched his hand towards his friend,

“Satoru, can I have my phone back?”

The blue eyed man gave an over exaggerated groan then carelessly tossed the cellular device back to its rightful owner. 

“Fine. Ugh! Can’t believe how dramatic she’s being! Just wait until I get back to Jujutsu High and don’t share any of my mochi with her. She’s going to have to wait at least a week until I give her that necklace I bought.” He huffed like a child. Resting his chin in the palm of his hand, Satoru gazed out at the pool. From behind he could hear a chuckle from his friend, causing him to turn his head. As expected, Suguru was chuckling to himself at his expense. Squinting his eyes, Satoru sent a scowl, unimpressed at Suguru’s amusement over his situation. 

“Well, you did go on an entire rant to her about how hot Inoue Waka is, how she’s your dream girl, then you told Y/n you’re only dating her because Inoue Waka hasn’t returned any of your fanmail-”

“That was a joke.” Satoru dismissed his argument, shaking his head, still playing a blind eye to his wrong doings.  

“And you said Y/n is lucky to be dating you… so, one might call her response reasonable.” Sure, Suguru was Satoru’s friend first, but he was also Y/n’s friend and he had no issue telling Satoru the truth when he was in the wrong, like he was now.  “Not to mention the new background which is sure to warm her heart.” Suguru pointed out. Gojo preferred to convince himself that his partner was wrong, although the nagging voice in the back of his head claimed otherwise. An abrupt quip from Geto on two of his cursed spirits no longer roaming around Riko sent all three sprinting to find her location, and still, even while the choir girls and sensei fawned over him, Gojo could not stop replaying his earlier fight with Y/n, wondering what he could do to get a response from her. 

Satoru and Riko were currently running from the chapel on her school grounds- well, Satoru was running while he had the young school girl hoisted by the back of her uniform. An unexpected attack had caused a bump in the road and now Gojo had to protect the girl on his own until he could find Suguru, not that the task would be difficult by any means, Satoru simply had his mind elsewhere. Speaking of elsewhere, his cell phone started ringing from his side pocket, and before he could reach for the mobile device, the young girl plucked it out in one motion. Satoru went to steal his phone back when she raised the phone to her ear and, as if it belonged to her, answered the call meant for Satoru. 

“Eh? Give that here-” Gojo reached his hand to snatch his phone back from Riko, yet instead she pulled the device right to her ear and began rambling. If she wasn't on the mission Satoru was certain he’d have dropped her off the building right then and there, but he had no time to make another effort to yank the phone as he needed to reach higher ground. It wasn’t until Gojo heard the sound of his girlfriend’s voice that his heart dropped straight to his ass. ‘Oh no’, he thought. 

“Is this Y/n?” The girl eagerly asked. A far off voice replied, making Gojo reach out once more to snatch his phone back, only for the vessel to jerk her head away from his grasp. He knew there was no time to stop, he had to get to higher ground and then he could steal his phone back and make things right with his girlfriend- he just hoped Riko and her big mouth wouldn’t taint that chance for him. 

Before he could try to reason with the girl and convince her not to say anything more, Riko began rambling and there was nothing he could do to stop her. Gojo could sense another curse user in their perimeter and knew it was essential for his focus to remain on keeping the vessel safe, even if she was a pain in his ass. 

“My name is Riko- yes, I am! Listen, your boyfriend is a total selfish, inconsiderate, self obsessed jerk! He barged into my choir class all high and mighty and bathed in the attention as the girls swarmed him- he even took his stupid little glasses off for them to all swoon over his eyes! He was totally leaning into their lust for him! My sensei even gave him her phone number-”

“Ah! Hey! Give me my phone back- are you trying to get me murdered?!” Nope, ah uh, not happening, Gojo thought as he tore his cellphone away from her hands. Riko turned to look at him, but the mix of fear and absolute terror on his face kept her words at bay. He sent the girl a cold glare, electric blue eyes narrowed in frustration. “My girlfriend is-”

The abrupt sound of his beloved girlfriend screaming at him sent Satoru back to reality as he glanced at the phone screen, then resentfully lifted the mobile to his ear.

“Hi, princess- why’re you yelling?! I don’t know what this crazy girl is talking about-”

Even Riko was experiencing a small twang of regret as the manic shouting on the opposite end of the line seemed to worsen with every passing second. As far as only knowing the cocky sorcerer for less than a full day, this change in posterior surprised her. Riko was taken aback to see him practically cowering at the words the girl seemed to be seething. All day he had been ranting and raving about how powerful he was- clearly the conceited type, yet here he was nearly shaking like a leaf as his girlfriend scolds him. Riko wonders for a brief moment if she should’ve minded her own business.

A minute more of screaming and cursing passed until Satoru seemed to find his voice, or rather thought of a viable excuse, and nervously cut the girl off. 

“I’ve got to go, a curse user attacked! See you later, my love!” He hurriedly smacked his finger against the red button on the bottom of the phone, desperate to end the call as quickly as humanly possible. Riko stared up at him as she dangled above the ground, and as their eyes met, Gojo rolled his, displaying his anger towards the girl as broad as daylight. 

Gojo scoffed down at the girl as he continued to hoist her above the earth by the back of her shirt, carrying her as if she was a briefcase, or bag of groceries, though certainly not as one should hold a human. Riko huffed, folding her arms across her chest, but Gojo paid no mind to her emotions, too upset with her actions and interjecting herself in his personal relationship. Jumping to the building to their right, a childlike huff heaved from his chest. 

“Jeez, you’re really a handful, brat. Now I’ve got more of a mess waiting at Jujutsu High for me.”

After the pair met up with Suguru and Kuroi, the four were beyond ready to be inside the safety barrier of Jujutsu High and left at once. After arriving at the school, the sun had long since fallen and the sky was teetering between a navy and black shade. Suguru gave his partner a curt nod, gesturing his head towards the dorm rooms, insisting he could handle escorting Riko into the tombs of the star corridor. Satoru sent his friend a grateful smile, bid the vessel and her guardian a farewell, then took off for the dorms. A small, minute, fraction of him was going to miss the kid, but she agreed to her destiny and up until now, seemed relatively pleased with her choice. Satoru jogged up the steps of the dormitory until he finally reached the fourth floor, the floor only occupied by female students. It wasn’t hard to locate Y/n’s room as he had snuck in past curfew more times than he could count, he reached her door with ease. 

His knuckles tapped against the wooden door, allowing less than a fair second to pass before he jimmied the handle. Usually a locked door would be a sign to walk away and try again in the morning, but Satoru only saw it as a slight hiccup. Pulling a credit card from his back pocket, Satoru slid the heavy black card through the slit between the frame and the door itself, shimming the card down to the lock while simultaneously twisting the knob back and forth. He gave the handle one quick turn to the left and abruptly the door swung open causing him to stumble less than graciously into the dimly lit room. 

Creeping in, Gojo carefully shut the door behind him and fully stepped into the dorm. The pink clock on her desk flashed half past midnight, but he knew his night owl of a girlfriend was sure to be awake, despite the eerie silence in the room. Tiptoeing his way towards the bed in the corner, Gojo let out a whisper, 

“Princess, I’m home! Are you awake?”

He sat himself on the edge of the mattress, placing the large shopping bag by his feet as he cautiously examined the heap hidden under a pile of blankets. Running his hand up and down the smooth fleece, Satoru could feel someone shifting around underneath. He leaned his head down, bending his body at an awkward angel, to rest it on top of what he assumed to be her side- that was until an elbow pulled back from under and collided sharply with his temple. 

A pained yelp sounded as he jumped back in surprise and fell to the floor causing a ‘thud’ to sound out. The figure on the bed threw the covers off her head as her fiery leer met Gojo’s stunned expression. 

“No.” She sneered. Though this did not deter the boy as he had previously prepared himself for an attitude filled reunion- especially due to how their last conversation had ended. Propping himself up to his feet once more, Satoru was determined to try again. 

“I brought you presents- look!” He rustled through the paper bag and yanked out four neatly wrapped parcels, and smiled while shoving his outstretched arms towards the glaring girl. However she refused to move, and instead continued murdering the sorcerer with her deathly scowl instead. Gojo let out a dramatic sigh, gesturing to the boxes in his arms once more. “C’mon, pretty girl, you gotta open the gifts-”

“Why don’t you go give it to those choir school girls- or what about their instructor-” A taunting laugh fell from her pink lips. “Better yet, send it to Inoue Waka and see if she finally responds to your love letters!” 

“Oh, c’mon, pumpkin! Are you really still upset about that?” Gojo whined. Here he was, bearing gifts in hand, and she was still angry about something that happened so, so long ago? Gojo ran his calloused hand across his face. 

“Still upset? It just happened today!” 

“If it’s any consolation, those school girls weren’t even in high school so they were way too young for me anyhow.” And none of them compared to you, he wanted to add. Y/n tossed from her position in the bed so her face was now peeking out between covers as her eyes flared. If the situation wasn’t so serious, Gojo would reach out to pinch at the cute chub of her cheek and comment on how adorable she appeared, yet he knew better than to try to weasel his way out of this one. 

“Ah, so you were flirting with a bunch of children and a cougar? Sounds a lot better that way, Satoru.” She shot back, sass soaking her words. Her rebuttal had Gojo rethinking his words. The issue with dating a woman like Y/n was she was far more intelligent then himself and simply didn’t fall for his handsome looks and boyish charm, which Gojo relied on when it came to the opposite sex. Not that this was a bad thing, so to say, it was actually one of the thousands of reasons why he loved her so much- she wasn’t shallow minded and saw him far beyond his outward appearance. Setting the presents on her freshly organized desk, Satoru ran a hand through his hair and awkwardly rubbed at the back of his neck.

“Technically, it wasn’t flirting in the sense you’re thinking of, I had to distract the class with my charm and good looks so I could sneak Master Tengen’s vessel out of class- I wasn’t lying about us being under attack by another curse user, that was true!”

“What about her number, huh?” Y/n scoffed. 

“She offered it, but I never accepted it.” Luckily he was telling the truth and Y/n believed him. Despite trusting his confession, she didn’t do anything more. 

A silence greeted the couple, neither certain of what to say next. Y/n lifted the blankets from her lap and stood from her bed in front of her boyfriend. Sure the gesture was small, but Satoru took her willingness to step closer to his frame as a good thing as his arms reached out to pull her body against his in a bone crushing hug. His forehead pressed against her shoulder while he kissed the spot. Y/n thought about pulling away for a second, she thought about making him work harder to gain her forgiveness, but his arms felt far too comforting around her body for her to shake him off. With his head buried in her shoulder, Gojo glanced up to Y/n, a softness in his eyes as he spoke,

“Do you forgive me, pretty girl? I’m sorry I made you upset… I don’t like it when you’re mad at me.” 

When she didn’t answer right away, Gojo lifted his head from her so he could properly look her in the eyes. He could visibly see the clouds of anger clearing as she quietly stared back at him. His hand then moved to wrap around the side of her face, his gentleness causing her to melt against his palm. She desperately wanted to smack his hand away, curse him then send him off to his room for the night, but she couldn’t. His touch sparked a series of shivers through her body which only made her long for him to pull her closer. 

A grin broke across his features as he accepted her lack of resistance as approval for his apology and began to move closer towards her face. If she slapped him away, then he’d know he misread the signs, but she didn’t. Their faces were so close in distance Y/n could smell the welcoming scent of peppermint swirling from his parted lips. These were the times she found herself grateful for his sweet tooth, it usually made for sweeter kisses. Wordlessly, Y/n pushed herself to close the distance and pressed her lips to connect to his. Gojo hums as he dips his head lower to gain advantage as he deepens the exchange. 

His mouth is warm against hers, inviting, as he kisses her. She can feel his tongue as it slips inside her mouth, almost like it was entering its second home, seeing as easily as it made itself comfortable and friendly against her own. Her fingers gripped at his white strands, pulling his face closer. All the frustration, all the emotions she had been experiencing towards him for the last day melted into the kiss. Satoru had one hand wrapped around her waist, holding her middle against his hips and his other swooped up around her lifted arm, leaving his hand to rest on the back of her neck, not letting her pull away even if she wanted to. 

Y/n could taste the strawberry chapstick on his lips, the same chapstick he had stolen from her only a week prior. He wasn’t lying, the taste was addictive. Gojo’s lips captured her bottom in a heated move, sucking on the skin with the slightest hint of friction as his teeth light delved into the plumpness. She had no time to muffle the moan passing through her, to which he smirked at the sound. 

A sense of shame washed over her once she realized he had won the silent battle. Instead, Y/n yanked at his hair from the root and pulled his lips back against hers, kissing him with such force he nearly stumbled back a footing. Gojo’s eyes widened in the middle of the kiss, surprised at her boldness and the way her tongue was invading his mouth. He could feel the material of his uniform growing tighter as his jeans constricted against his crotch. Y/n sucked on the silky smoothness of his tongue, small smacks sounding as she dominated the heated makeout. 

A shudder danced down his spine at the feeling of her hand pressed against his groin, his hips subconsciously grinding against her palm. Rubbing her hand along the zipper Y/n toyed with the cool metal, silently teasing her boyfriend as a means of revenge for his actions. Just as she began pulling the slider down, her lips pulled away from him at once, much to Satoru’s disappointment. His mouth hung low as a small whine sounded.

Y/n simply ignored his childish ways, and reached for the bottom of her shirt, causing him to smile once more. Peeling the shirt that belonged to him off her body, Y/n threw it to the floor then fell back against her mattress, motioning Gojo over with the flick of her wrist. Satoru stalked towards her on the bed, almost like a predator sneaking up on it’s prey. His eyes held a look of hunger she rarely saw but bathed in the heat searing from it.

Climbing over her body, Satoru placed himself so he was looming above her, his zipper hanging half undone. Y/n tilted her head, pretending not to understand the look on his face. Gojo shook his head then leaned his face so his lips could skim against her exposed neck. He let his mouth trail up the side of her skin, hot breath fanning over her coolness. His hands lifted to grope at the covering of her bra, giving the material a tug. He came to a stop once his mouth was pressed against the shell of her ear, his voice sending a wave of pleasure straight to her core, 

“I love it when my princess is being a little brat… think I need to put you back in your place.”

Without warning his lips attached to her neck and harshly began to suck at the skin, surely leaving a trail of blotchy red marks. Y/n’s whole body hitched at the overwhelming rush of excitement, her hips lifting only to be shoved back into the mattress by his own which hovered barely an inch above. 

She let her head fall to the side, allowing Satoru more access to her neck, her eyes hardly opened as she basked in the tingling his mouth brought. Hands traveled up and down his back, nails lightly scratching against him as her body wormed from his lips making love to her skin. Y/n nearly closed her eyes all together, she nearly allowed herself to get lost in his kiss, that was until a distant ‘ding’ caught her attention and the phone beside her head lit up. 

A text notification from Suguru popped up on Satoru’s phone, but that wasn’t what caught Y/n’s attention, no, her fixation settled in on the nearly naked photo of the famous model Inoue Waka. The same Inoue Waka that sparked the original fight between the couple, the same Inoue Waka Satoru called hot, the one he declared his dream girl, and same Inoue Waka Satoru said he’d be dating if she’d give him a chance- Y/n was fuming in rage. Pushing both hands on his chest, Y/n physically shoved Satoru off her body causing him to tumble off the side of the bed. His hands flailed out in an attempt to grab for stability, although failed as he rolled to the wood floor, his back smacking against the ground. Gojo laid still on the floor, his mind still trying to process the whole event as he rubbed at the ache on the back of his head. Sitting up straight she reached out for his phone and held it in his face as she screamed,

“Are you fucking kidding me, Satoru?! You put Inoue Waka as your background?!”

“Hehe… that was meant to be a joke…” The fear in his voice transcribed in shaky words as Y/n chucked the phone at him, barely missing his face as he lunged to the side. She snatched his shirt off the ground and threw it back on, covering her chest as Gojo scrambled to grab his cellphone. 

“Fine, I’ve got an even funnier joke for you,” A taunting smile full of hidden anger laced her lips as her finger jutted towards her door. “Get out!” 

His face fell all at once, a deep pout tattooed on his lips. Maybe he should’ve listened to Suguru earlier when he insisted this was a bad idea- if he’d had listened to Suguru, the two would probably be tangled in her bed sheets by now, but no, Gojo had to press her buttons even further. Opening his phone, Satoru clicked on the most recent image of Y/n and faster than the speed of light, set the photo to his new lock and home screen. 

“Aw, c’mon! I’ll change it right now- see! Look, pumpkin, it’s a picture of my favorite girl-” Gojo flipped his phone around, allowing the bright screen to illuminate Y/n’s face. She glanced up, and Satoru watched in utter confusion as her expression went from upset to lividly irate. His heartbeat multiplied in rate, obviously terrified of the disturbing reaction she held to seeing her face on his phone, or what he thought was her face. 

“You fucking asshole.” She growled. If this was his idea of a practical joke, Y/n was ready to make him single. Gojo’s eyes grew like a mass, quickly turning his phone back only to see what caused such a profuse reaction. The image hadn’t changed and was the same exact photo as previously of Inoue Waka propped up on her knees sitting in the sand as her breasts nearly poured out of her excuse of a bikini.

“Shit! I promise I thought I hit save- just give me a second, I’m panicking!” He screeched. His fingers moved at the speed of light as Satoru helplessly tried to set his girlfriend’s smiling face as his background, hoping to at least save some ground between the couple. What he failed to notice in his alarmed state was Y/n reaching out for her phone, scrolling through her photo album and setting a new image on hers. 

“No, no, it’s fine, Gojo, really. I’ll just change my background to a picture of my favorite guy.” The smile she wore was not one of love, no it held more malice, evilness like she had just completed a plot to end the world. Satoru’s head nudged to the side, his eyebrows pulled together in a line of skepticism. 

“I’m already your background, princess…” He mumbled. Clarity was granted as the girl tossed her cellphone, to which he caught with ease. Clicking the power button, Gojo gave a dramatized gasp.

“Is… is that Suguru?! How’d you get this picture? Did he send this to you? Oh my god I’m going to kill him-” 

“I think he looks cute.” Y/n smirked. Obviously it was all a ruse to get back at him for his immaturity, but she couldn’t help the sense of pride creeping up at the over the top reaction from Gojo. The photo itself came from a night out the couple shared, one with their usual third wheel, Geto. Four shots in and five mixed drinks, Suguru was having quite the time, which led to a gallery full of images that he insisted the three took together- and if Gojo would look a little closer, he’d notice the small wisps of pure white hair sticking out from the edge of the cropped image, but Y/n didn’t need to tell him that, it was far more amusing to see him frantic. 

Large blue eyes pleaded up at her as Gojo kneeled in front of the bed, his hands folded like prayer.

“Princess, please put my picture back! I changed mine back to you- please!”

Her finger tapped against the blush to her cheek, pretending to be lost in thought. This was pure torture as Gojo continued to beg at her feet. 

“Hm. I’m not sure- I do have a picture of that adorable first year Haibara in there somewhere…” No, absolutely not, that was Satoru’s last straw. No way in hell would his beautiful girlfriend have a photo of that first year sorcerer always obsessed with impressing Suguru as her background- never ever! Gojo was already annoyed their peer favored his best friend over himself, but having his own girlfriend joke about giving them attention, fuck no.  Holding her phone above his head and out of her teasing reach, Satoru screeched, 

“Ah! You’re going to replace me with a first year?! What?!”

Folding her arms in a crossed fashion against her chest, Y/n gave the hysterical teen a ‘told you so’ glare. 

“Now you know how I felt.” She said matter-of-factly. 

Satoru had to physically bite his tongue to keep the word ‘brat’ from tumbling past his lips. Yes, he used the term as one of endearment, but that was when the two were in their usual jovial mood- now was not the time and now. Gojo understood what she was hinting at, he got the message she was referring to their earlier argument and the various comments he had made towards the famous model, but that didn’t mean he agreed with her. In his mind, there was a clear difference between joking about having a crush on someone in the public eye and joking about having a crush on a fellow classmate. 

“Well at least my background was a celebrity that I have no real chance with. If you asked that first year out he’d probably say yes on the spot then pass out- and Suguru would say yes just to spite me!” His voice was teetering a cry as he threw his head against the bed. 

“I would never actually ask them out, Satoru. In case you haven’t noticed, I love you. Why do you think I was so upset about all those things you said before you and Suguru left? You basically admitted I’m not your dream girl but some famous, perfectly perfect model, who I look nothing like, is. Then you went on about how lucky I should feel being with you, as if I’m not already insecure about our relationship.” Gojo’s heart sunk at her words, regret filling his insides. “It hurt my feelings, Satoru.”

“I’m sorry, princess… I really am. I never meant to hurt you, I guess I thought I was being funny but… it’s really not true.” For the first time in maybe ever, Satoru’s tone sounded different. His voice no longer held that casual cockiness and confidence it usually oozed, no, he sounded timid… possibly the most serious he’s ever sounded in his life. The man who played life like it was the board game itself now stood before the woman he loved looking scared. Y/n’s face scrunched in question, slightly taken aback by the sincerity he expressed. 

“What’s not true?”

“What I said about Inoue Waka, she’s not my dream girl, you are.” Satoru stated. He needed Y/n to see the truth to his words, to believe she was the only girl for him, because she was. As fun as it was to tease his girlfriend, it was only amusing when she was in on the joke. The last thing he wanted was to hurt her. Satoru could see now how truly uncomfortable she was with his comments and it made him feel like a piece of shit knowing he planted a seed of insecurity in her mind. 

It was almost as if Gojo could see the shield Y/n placed around herself, around her heart. She was a hard one to crack, but getting to be the soul she finally let inside meant the entire word to Satoru and he had no intention of breaking that trust ever again. 

“And I’m the one who’s so fucking lucky to get to call you mine. You’re everything I could ever ask for in a girlfriend and more. You put up with me and you’re the only person who ever laughs at my jokes- and you know all my favorite snacks and treats… you even know all the things I’m scared of, which losing you is at the top of my list. I’m sorry that I ever made you doubt us, or made you feel insecure… I really am sorry, Y/n.”

The room turned quiet as Gojo’s confession hung in the air. Y/n didn’t speak, she wouldn’t even move. Instead, her eyes planted on the blanket in her lap, mindlessly losing herself in the pattern while her mind raced, replaying his words over and over again. Gojo examined her odd behavior, part of him perplexed at her lack of response. Y/n had a response for everything, for every situation. For the first time in their two year relationship Gojo was witnessing her in a speechless state, and for as much as he joked about her bratness and stubborn ways, he hated not hearing her voice. A minute passed until Satoru decided he had enough of missing her sound. As he opened his mouth, about to ask if she was okay, a shout sounded from her throat. 

“Ugh! I hate when you do that!” Y/n cried out. There was a thin row of salty tears teetering her waterline. Dread filled Gojo at the sight. He never meant to make her cry. Standing to his feet Satoru sat himself next to her on the bed, his hands reaching out to grasp her own in trepidation. His thumb drew anxious circles across her skin, a method he’d learned that usual calmed her down, yet her tears steadily fell. 

“W-What? Do what?” He asked in a wavering voice. With her free hand, Y/n harshly rubbed at her eyes, wiping the tears that continued to roll down her reddening cheeks. A few splashed against his hand that clutched hers, but he didn’t care. A scarlet ring formed around her e/c eyes as she glanced up to Satoru, a mix of agitation and sadness filling her. 

“When you’re all sweet and say things that make my insides feel like they’re all mushy and- ugh, I hate how much I love you. It’s so annoying!” She cried out. 

A wave of solace splash his bay at her words, along with the returning embrace as her hand squeezed his. He let out a sigh of relief, grateful his words had caused good tears this time. Bringing her hand up to his face, Gojo danced a trail of kisses along her knuckles and smiled. Still holding her hand, Satoru lightly urged the girl to lay back on the mattress and he climbed in next to her. Her head rested softly against the pillow, Gojo’s arm encircling her waist as he turned her body to face his. Once he could see her beautiful face, he let his hand wrap under her chin with a feather light grip. 

“I happen to love how much you love me, pretty girl.” 

His lips pressed a sweet kiss to her temple, then placed another to her forehead, then lastly a chaste and loving kiss to her lips. Y/n nuzzled her head against his touch, the shakiness to her breathing beginning to slow. Gojo removed his hand from her chin as he felt her wiggling closer until her head was laid up on his chest. The sound of his heart beat echoed in her ear and she cuddled into his warmth. A comfortable blanket of peace took control of the room as the couple enjoyed the feeling of holding one another. Satoru’s hand ran up and down her back in an act of comfort. His touch always made her feel more at ease. The moment of tranquility lasted a good portion until Y/n briefly pulled herself away from Gojo, an unfamiliar gleam to her gaze. Satoru tilted his head, unfamiliar to the unusual look, when Y/n lifted her hand to stroke the side of his cheek, as she spoke in a mask of sweetness,

“I swear Satoru, if you ever set Inoue Waka as your homescreen again, I’ll murder you then chop your body up and dump it in the ocean.” One might expect a rational response to such a threat would be fear, not Satoru Gojo. A cheesy grin broke out as his hold tightened around her body, pulling her closer to him.

“I know you will, princess, and that’s why I love you… even if you are a brat at times.”

Her hand smacked against her arm, faking a pout while snuggling further in. 

“Shut up, you love me because I’m a brat.” She remarked. They both knew it was true. Satoru could feign annoyance over her attitude, he could pretend she was too ‘difficult’ for him, but in all honesty, bratty was exactly the way Satoru loved her. 

“You know me too well.”

[vanteguccir]

Can you sing for me? | Chris Sturniolo

Chris Sturniolo x reader

Summary: Where Y/N is a worldwide famous singer, but her favorite thing in the world is hearing Chris singing just for her.

Warning: None.

Requested?: No.

Author's note: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

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When you are a world-famous singer who performs at least once a month, tours every year, models, acts, does interviews, is looked at everywhere by papparazzi and scouts, has articles published about you - often with false information -, it was safe to say that Y/N needed a place to rest, and hers was next to Chris.

Her resting with him was many things: spending hours marathoning mindless movies on the couch wrapped in a fluffy blanket and her boyfriend's arms, or when she could lay on Chris's lap and sink into a new book; sometimes it was when her house shared with the triplets smelled like her favorite cake, or when she spent the day making a new DIY that she found on tiktok...

Y/N was a girl with simple tastes, she didn't need much to be impressed, just a few minutes next to Chris were enough for her to feel like the luckiest girl in the world and finally be able to relax her body completely, getting rid of the adrenaline of having a life as an artist.

Don't get me wrong, Y/N loved her profession, since she was little her biggest dream was to be able to perform in front of a crowd and show her talent, and her fans provided that for her; seeing a sea of ​​people in front of her singing along to a song she composed made her see stars, the adrenaline that coursed through her veins when she picked up her pink microphone and could walk, dance, run and jump around the stage freely while singing the lyrics that referred to important moments in her life was incredible.

But nothing compared to waking up next to Chris in the morning and finding the sleepy face she loved so much along with his husky morning voice, or cooking homemade food for them and receiving a hug from behind that was always accompanied by "I love you so much". No moment in front of interviewers with overpriced magazines compared to when Chris won a round of one of his video games and got up from his chair with an excited scream, running over to where Y/N was and showering her with kisses.

Don't even remind me of the thousands of butterflies that flew together in Y/N's stomach when Chris wrote one of his love letters to her, delivering it along with several sweets and chocolates that she was addicted to - a weekly event in their lives.

Y/N's professional life was hectic and tiring, when she wasn't on a plane going from one country to another, she was in a studio recording a new song, or on a famous program answering very controversial questions.

So, when her busy day's were over and she could simply be Y/N, she would go straight into Chris's arms, where she knew she would receive comfort and security.

And that's exactly what she did today. After a turbulent day in the studio recording her new songs, making wrong high notes and having to redo them, crossing out written verses and rewriting them, the girl just wanted to get home and dive into her boyfriend's arms.

Y/N slowly closed the door to her shared room with Chris, her eyes wandering to the low lights and the almost imperceptible sound coming from the television, which was turned on in a random series.

Chris was already in bed dressed in his pajamas, the fluffy gray blanket covering his body up to his shoulders. He had his eyes almost closed from the intense tiredness, but he seemed to fight against it.

That was another thing that Y/N loved about Chris, regardless of what time she came home, he would always be waiting for her awake - more or less.

The girl walked with light steps to the nightstand on her side of the bed, taking the remote control and turning off the television, complete silence settling in the room.

"Hey, I didn't hear you coming." The brunette's sleepy voice caught Y/N's attention, who turned her face towards him, seeing him still lying in the same position, but with his blue eyes now very much open and looking at her. Probably having "woken up" due to the lack of the background sound.

"Hi my love, I just arrived. I'm just going to take a shower and come to bed with you." Y/N responded in a whisper.

"Okay." He said softly, looking at her from below with doe eyes.

Y/N leaned over the bed momentarily, sealing her lips over Chris' soft ones for a few seconds before getting up again and walking to the bathroom.

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Y/N opened the bathroom door, the steam from the hot shower escaping momentarily as she crossed to the bedroom, already in her pajamas, before closing it again.

She walked slowly to the bed, seeing Chris lying on his side and holding his phone with one of his hands, looking more awake than before - or trying to -, the screen brightness turned to a minimum as his thumb scrolled through his Instagram feed.

Chris lifted his head slightly when he heard her approaching, a lazy smile stretching across his face as he stretched slowly, locking the screen of his phone and briefly placing it on top of his bedside table. He opened his arms, waiting for his girlfriend to lay there.

Y/N returned the smile, lifting the gray blanket and laying down on her side of the bed, snuggling in before burying herself in Chris's arms. She ran her nose down his neck, breathing in the fresh scent of soap on his skin, caressing the sensitive spot with her lips.

His hands circled her shoulders, a sigh of pleasure escaping his lips at the comfort that the warmth post-bath of Y/N's body provided. The girl lifted her left hand, running it through Chris' hair, brushing his bangs out of his eyes.

"How was your day?" Chris asked softly a few seconds later, his blue eyes taking in his girl's tired features.

The deep sigh that escaped her mouth was answer enough for him: tiring.

"Did you eat anything? Are you hungry?" He continued, lifting his right hand - which was previously on Y/N's waist - and taking her left hand from his own hair, bringing it to his lips and sealing the soft skin for a few seconds, keeping his attention on her face.

"I had lunch, honey, I'm not hungry." She replied, a tired smile appearing on her lips at his affectionate gesture.

"Don't you want me to get you a snack? Lunch was many hours ago, kitten." Chris intertwined their fingers, only receiving a shake of her head.

"Can you sing f'me?" Y/N asked in a low, weak tone, her words barely noticeable.

A goofy smile grew on Chris's face, his eyes shining with excitement and love. He adored it when his singer girlfriend asked him to sing for her, it seemed too ironic to be true, but that was exactly what Y/N adored most.

"What do you want today? Rap, pop or rock?" He teased, a soft chuckle escaping Y/N's lips as she rolled her eyes, intertwining their legs together and scooting closer to him, laying her head on his shoulder, placing a little kiss on the region.

"Anything is fine, I just want to hear you sing." She asked, eager to listen her boy's soft voice against her ear.

"Y/N baby, I dedicate this one for you." He joked, a smile on his voice before he started to sing a song that he knew that was one of his girl's favorite. "Stay bugging out, days on end..." Chris began slowly, resting his chin on his girlfriend's head, his voice now sounding hoarse and low, intensifying Y/N's drowsiness. "Days on end."

Her eyes began to flutter closed, her heartbeat calming down as the weight of her shoulders seemed to drain down her body, her limbs relaxing completely.

"Play this often, don't take this shit too seriously." He continued gently, stroking Y/N's back in circles with his left hand, feeling the area lose its previous tension. "Know you get insecure, wish I had more wisdom for you..."

Y/N took a deep breath lightly, allowing her mind to drift off into the world of dreams, Chris's voice becoming muffled and almost null against her ears, but her brain seemed to still register it, using it as a personal tranquilizer.

"Sleep, babe." Chris whispered after singing some more lines, noticing her closed eyes and slightly open mouth.

He pressed his lips to the top of his girlfriend's head, before snuggling closer against her body, allowing himself to sleep, Y/N's slow breathing serving as his favorite lullaby.

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My asks are always open. Feel free to send requests or anything at all 🩷💋

[lucyandalexiafan]

I'm scared | Alexia Putellas x Reader | part 2

summary: first time that Alexia and reader talk about sex (specifically: masturbation) after the walk.

warnings: angst, allusion to past sexual abuses. really light smut moment (r comes home early and sees Alexia have orgasm using a vibrator).

words: 3k

Part 1

When you had spoken to Alexia about your past, about those experiences, you hadn't expected her to be so understanding and engaged in helping you.

Even though you knew she was a sweet person, kind, and in some way you knew she loved you, or was starting to develop strong feelings for you, up until that day you had believed she wouldn't stay with you once she found out what had happened to you.

Alexia is beautiful, charming, loved by hundreds of thousands of people; she's the captain of Spain and Barcelona, which means she's surrounded by beautiful women, a lot of them probably much more predisposed to have sex with her and much less anxious about it. She's famous, so not only fans and other footballers would want something with her, but also other celebrities, like models or actresses or singers.

Alexia doesn't just play football, she's also a football activist, a model and she works with some brands, which means she works in contexts that allow her to meet many (beautiful) women.

All these things had made it difficult for you to think that she would stay after that walk.

She took you home once you had returned to the car because the next day she had to go to Madrid for work with Nike. Before getting out of the car, you had kissed her and, thinking it was the last time, you had tried to imprint the image of Alexia so close to your face in your memory. You thought you wouldn't see her again and that she wouldn't contact you anymore, that she would ghost you or break up with you by message.

You had spent that night sleepless, tears flowing heavily from your eyes and nausea that had forced you to sit on the bathroom floor for a few hours, the retching had painfully contracted your body several times during those hours. Even though you hated yourself every time you did it, you kept checking your phone hoping to see a notification from her, a message, a post sent on Instagram or TikTok, and the more time passed, the more you received no news from her, the more nausea and the tears increased, the more you believed you had lost her forever.

Yet, the next day, the sound of the doorbell had woken you up. You had struggled to get out of bed, the headache was killing you and your back seemed to be broken in two by the pain, the sweat covering your forehead was a symptom of yet another nightmare that had invaded your sleep. 

You looked at the video intercom and saw a delivery man. "Yes, who's there?" you had asked, your voice hoarse, ruined by crying.

"Hello, I'm from Bakery Adele, I was told I have to deliver this order to this address" the delivery guy had replied, his voice annoyingly shrill, before asking for confirmation of identity.

You had told him he could leave it at the concierge and that you would come down later, but he had persuaded you by saying there was a piping hot double espresso cappuccino and a freshly baked cream-filled brioche waiting for you.

You had put on a jacket that was hanging on the coat rack, a jacket of Alexia, and had gone down. The delivery guy handed you the breakfast, a little note attached to the package, and then said goodbye.

Bakery Adele doesn't do deliveries, never.

Once you had entered the house, you had opened the note, and tears had returned when you had read it.

"I thought of ordering your favorite breakfast from your bakery. Whenever you feel like it, if you want, write to me or call me, I'm always here. I miss you, but I'll wait for you to feel ready to talk to me. Alexia <3"

Tears, tears, and more tears.

You had bitten your lip as you grabbed your phone to video call her. You didn't care about the condition of your face or your hair at that moment, you only cared about seeing if it was true, if she was sincere. You had spent the whole night thinking she hadn't written to you because she didn't want to talk to you anymore, only to find out she was waiting for you?

"Amor," her voice, her sweet voice, invaded the deafening silence of your home.

"Ale-" you had replied trying to articulate a sentence, but inevitably ending up crying.

"What's wrong, amor? Are you okay?" she was worried, her eyebrows furrowed and her eyes squinted.

"I thought you didn't want me anymore and now the breakfast has arrived and I don't understand and-" You start speaking quickly, thoughts overlapping in your mind one after another, as you try to express yourself, to tell her how confused you feel right now.

"Take a breath, amor breath with me. Did you think I wouldn't call you? - you shook your head - Amor, I told you I'm in love with you, why would I leave you?"

You hadn't talked much, actually, because she was about to enter the store and there was a lot of confusion, but she had called you back that evening.

And the day after, and the day after that, until she had shown up at your house with takeout Chinese food.

A couple of days after she returned, you had asked if you could talk, if you could talk about what had happened. You knew that the best idea would have been to go to her place, a place from which it would have been easy to run away from her if things didn't go as you hoped, and not to your place, where Alexia could have stayed even against your will; but the emotional comfort you felt being in your own home was crucial to be able to talk to her, to face the situation.

You were at your home, on the couch: you were sitting cross-legged, your hands holding hers, and you had told her that you understood if this thing was bigger than her, if she didn't want to wait for some time to do something sexual, but you had also told her that a part of you would have wanted her to stay because you wanted to face this thing with her, that you truly wanted to face it.

Alexia, hesitant, had told you, after a while of talking, that she thought it was appropriate for you to start a therapy process, maybe also to go to therapy together, because only then could you fully face the trauma. She also made sure to tell you that if you couldn't afford it continuously over time or with the right frequency, she would help you financially because, yes, facing it, but with the right psychologist. Shyly, she had told you that she had done a couple of searches on the best psychologists in Barcelona for this type of trauma and had found one really good, and that she would also be available to do couple therapy.

You had told her you would think about it and a few days later you had contacted one of the psychologists on her list.

The initial doubts about her seriousness in being faithful to you and not seeking anyone else for sexual satisfaction surfaced when she left for a National Team camp, and they exploded when you thought she was cheating on you with Jenni. The endless social media edits you continued to see fueled the doubt that perhaps, while genuinely attempting to complete the therapeutic journey, she was seeking to fulfill her sexual desire with someone else in secret.

At the third couple's therapy session after that camp, you addressed the issue. You had resignedly told her that you wanted to know if she was with other women, that you would understand but needed to know. She was shocked. She had told you multiple times that she only wanted you, that she would wait for you, that she didn't want anyone else, that she didn't want Jenni.

You had discussed it several times in therapy over the next two weeks, and even outside of therapy, but Alexia always said the same thing: I will wait for you, I want you.

The doubts had more or less disappeared when few weeks later you caught her having an orgasm with a vibrator while she thought you were still out. You were on holiday in the Canary Islands, you had gone out to do some shopping and go to an open-air market while she was sleeping, and you had left her a message saying you wouldn't be back in two hours; too bad the open-air market was on Thursday, not Tuesday, so you had returned after a little over half an hour. 

As soon as you entered the house, you heard moans and silently approached the bedroom, only to see her in the middle of the bed, her hand between her legs and a buzzing sound in the background accompanying her moans. 

You froze in place, not knowing what to do, or what to say. 

You didn't even know she had a vibrator. You hadn't really thought about it, actually.

You hadn't even had time to think about how to react because shortly after she reached the peak of pleasure, so you quickly moved towards the door, opened and closed it more loudly, pretending you had just entered. You didn't know why you did it, maybe you thought it would be easy to pretend you hadn't seen her, but you were wrong, especially for two reasons: seeing her climax had made you incredibly horny and you couldn't remove the image of her having an orgasm from your mind, so you couldn't even look her in the eyes.

Alexia had sensed something was wrong and asked you if everything was okay at dinner, when she asked if she had done something wrong. You almost choked on the water you were drinking, your cheeks suddenly burning, as you tried to come up with some excuses, only to give in.

"Amor, I don't know how to say it - you lowered your gaze, embarrassed to admit it, afraid she would get angry - I... today I came home earlier than you think and I-I saw you-"

"Fuck - Alexia exclaimed bluntly - Amor, I'm sorry, I... it shouldn't have happened, I thought you'd be back later," her tone suddenly guilty, as if masturbating were a fault.

"Are you sorry? - you asked, looking her in the eyes, and she nodded, her face red with embarrassment - But... why?"

Her expression became confused. "I-you weren't supposed to see me, I don't want you to think-"

"Since when you do it?" you asked, then realized the stupidity of the question when the older woman tilted her head to the side; you tried to change the subject, but she asked you to talk about it, to ask her, because it was important for her that you talked about it.

"Do you want to know if I've been doing it since we started dating or when I started doing it in general?" her tone was so calm, so relaxed, that you trusted her, trusted that she really just wanted to talk about it.

That was the first time you had talked so specifically about your sexual life, at least hers. 

She had told you she lost her virginity to a girl when she was fifteen, started using sex toys at sixteen, that throughout her relationship with Jenni they had been an integral part of the relationship, but she started using them less when she broke up with her because at that point she was having a lot of casual sex.

"I had sex with other women before I met you, both occasional and steady partners, so I didn't really need to use them to have an orgasm. Then we met, the relationship became serious and we started dating, so I stopped seeing other people, and when I realized we wouldn't have sex, I started using them more often. Since you told me about your past, I've started using them frequently again."

You bit your lip as you listened to her, it was evident that she was hesitant, choosing her words carefully, but at the same time she was so sure, so calm. The calmness with which she spoke about it almost gave you comfort, almost reassured you that she wasn't lying, that what she was saying was true.

"You can ask me anything, amor, none question is stupid."

"Do you do it because we don't have sex?"

She nodded hesitantly. "How does this make you feel? - you raised your eyebrows, confused - I don't want this thing to make you feel bad."

"It makes sense that you do it - you replied, your tone devoid of negative emotions - We don't have sex and you need to... have an orgasm. Why didn't you tell me?"

She took a sip of water in an attempt to stall. "I... I thought you would take it badly, that you would feel guilty or something, and I didn't want that. I told you I want to wait for you, but I was afraid that if I told you you would think that I necessarily need someone to have sex with or for me to tell you to speed things up - she sighed - But as you saw, my sex toys give me great orgasms and I could go on just with them for years" she continued, trying to relax the tension that had been created with her answer.

You chuckled with her, even though you were sorry she did it in secret, that she did it only when you weren't there, that she was afraid you would take it badly.

It was her first orgasm you had seen, and you had never really thought about the fact that she could be satisfied in other ways than having sex with other people.

"I had never thought that you would seek orgasms in other ways than sex - you simply stated - It's a stupid thing, sorry."

"It's not, actually. We've never talked about this, about maybe masturbating or actually wanting to have sex, regardless of whether we do it or not - the reflective tone, the calm voice - For example, when I feel the need to have an orgasm, use a vibrator because the orgasms I have using it are generally more satisfying than when I just use my fingers; but when I want to have sex, as well as an orgasm, I use my fingers because they feel closer to what I could have having sex with you."

You widened your eyes at the revelation, at how calmly she said it. You knew it was normal for her to be calm, you were glad she talked about it freely, but you didn't expect her to be so sincere.

"I've said too much, sorry. Please forget it," she continued, her voice concerned, her gaze now on the plate, her hands quickly grabbing the fork and knife to put them on the plate.

"No! - you replied, scaring her - Sorry, I don't know how to talk about it, but I'd like to, I like that we talk about it."

There was a pause, Alexia was simply smiling at you, perhaps surprised that you were actually having this conversation, perhaps because she didn't know what to say.

"I masturbate thinking about you," you said, a statement.

The woman in front of you widened her eyes, a choked moan escaped her mouth, the dismay obvious.

"When I do it I-I think about the two of us having sex or-or... doing sexual things - you lowered your gaze, a sense of humiliation invading your body when she said nothing - Please don't be mad at me"

You close your eyes, scared at the idea that she might start yelling that it's disrespectful, that it's wrong for you to do it, or, worse, that she might get up to hurt you, or physically punish you for it.

"Get mad? Why should I get mad? - her voice confused - It's normal for you to masturbate, to seek orgasm."

"Even if it's not with you?" she nodded "It's just that we don't have sex but I masturbate and... doesn't it make you mad?"

Your voice sounded more frightened than you wanted, but it was true that you feared she would get angry. You didn't want to have sex with her, you were afraid to have sex with her, but you touched yourself thinking of her; how could she take it?

"I'm glad you can touch yourself, that at least that part of your sexuality hasn't been broken," she moved her hands towards yours, squeezing them between hers "There's nothing wrong, amor, I'd be a selfish insecure person to think otherwise."

You bit your lip as you looked at her, admiring her. How could she always know what to say, always say the right thing?

"So, did you like to watch me while I touch myself?" you coughed embarrassed, not knowing what to say, or how to explain it.

You had enjoyed watching her come, even though it was by chance and for a short time, even though it was an unexpected thing that shouldn't have happened. The image of her coming, of her orgasm, was imprinted in your mind.

"I- you were just so beautiful when you came. I don't know how to say it, I feel stupid, and- it was like, I don't know - you sighed frustrated - it's just that I wish it were me making you come like that, not a vibrator."

"There's time, amor," she told you.

She was right, there was time, but you wanted to be the one instead of that vibrator.

I'm sorry it took me so long to post this, a few bad things happened and I didn't have the mind to write. this is a text that I wrote about two weeks ago but I only translated it last night; I'm not 100/100 satisfied, but I wanted to introduce a moment of discussion about sex before anything sexual could happen. I dealt with the topic of insecurity and jealousy in a very light way (perhaps superficially) but it seemed like the only way to introduce the moment on holiday. the hardest part for me, and what makes me a little dissatisfied, was trying to figure out whether what I wrote about accidentally seeing Alexia have an orgasm was itself a violation of consent, or could be construed as an accident (which it actually is); I chose to interpret it as an accident that Alexia knew could happen and to avoid the parties considering it a violation of consent. If this seems wrong to you, or will trigger a lot of people, I think I'll revisit this chapter. as usual, thanks for reading what I wrote :)

[scenteddelusion5]

hiii

Can you do Velvette x insecure reader? (any gender(s))

I Don't Deserve You

Velvette x insecure reader

Note: A short but wholesome one!!!

Word count: 647

Velvette had met Y/n around three years ago. The sinner hadn't been in hell for long when she stumbled upon them. They weren't the prettiest nor the strongest demon, actually they were pretty weak but something pulled Velvette to them. One thing led to another and they started dating.

To say her colleagues hated their new-found love was an understatement, Vox and Val hated her new partner. Velvette would dote on them, buy them new clothes and show them of on all her socials. According to Vox letting the public know about her relationship with a weak sinner would be bad for their image. One time he had even tried to hypnotise them to break up but his plan fell through.

Val on the other hand didn't like their looks and though that Velvette could do WAY better and he took every opportunity to let her know. Once he even brought in one of his contracts that was the same type of sinner, they, however, were smoking hot. Velvette actually dared to slap the Vee in the face for that one.

She always reassured her partner that they were perfect. Still, Y/n couldn’t shake the feeling that they didn’t belong by her side.

On one hellish afternoon, Y/n laid on their shared bed and scrolled through their girlfriend's sinstagram. It showed a picture of the two of them in matching beachwear. Velvette stood by the parasol on the right while Y/n stood hunched over, looking through the cool box. The caption read: 'Two bitches at the beach, look out suckers! This ass is mine!'

They laughed looking back at their fun date. Scrolling down through the comments, they saw the usual replies:

Valentino_PIMP: We use the same swimwear line in the NEW angel dust porno, sluts!!

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Tiffany-PORNS: HOT!!! Ordering RIGHT NOW!!!❤️❤️❤️~

All of famous denizens, friends and colleagues. The usual but when they scrolled down, they came across these;

DoomBoom-482: Velvette hot as ever. Dont undorstand why shes whith that ugly.

Angel_FUCKER69: EEWWW!!! I didn’t want to see that 🤢

BAZUKAbAbY: we should just kill that bastard, they dont deserve our queen

Comment after comment, hating them. Tears filled their eyes as they read more and more.

Velvette walked into her apartment already angry, she couldn’t wait to complain to her partner about her shitty ass day. Valentino had ripped apart one of her best models on this busy fucking day.

She saw Y/n laying on the bed as she spoke, "you'll never guess what Valentino did today. Like I could just KILL him for thi-" She quickly cut herself off as she saw their puffy eyes stare at her. "What happened?"

"I-uhm..."

She jumped on the bed and laid down next to them. "What are you looking at? Show me." Velvette looked at the post, reading through all the comments. "You don't actually believe their bs?"

"Y-yes," they sniffed, "I don't deserve you... You are amazing, beautiful, smart, witty and I'm... Me."

"And you are THE BEST THING that EVER happened to me! There is no demon in hell that could make me laugh like you do! No one that can lift me up pike you do! No one who can make pancakes like you do!" She hugged them. "Everyone else are just shitstains!!! Without you, I wouldn’t be able to enjoy hell as much as I do now."

"Really?"

"Really, besides do you really think those basement dwelling, internet trolls would understand someone as fabulous as you and me?" Velvette kissed the top of their head.

"No."

"Then there is nothing to worry about. I love you and you love me. That's all that matters." She picked up her phone and looked through her liked pics. "Now I saw this really cute trend where couples choose each other's fits, wanna try?"

"Let's do it!!!"

Masterlist/request guidelines

[viennakarma]

hear me out... ending 3: secrets

she just doesn't tell him, publicise their divorce, she's disappeared off the face of the earth basically, she keeps the baby, it's a boy, looks just like him but they just never see each other again. Lewis is upset, can't cope, just keeps partying, drinking during off season, or just gym gym gym not even socialising as much, fashion declines like no longer going for all the cool different clothes and just comes in trousers and merc top.

But how does he find out? when?

Maybe she's just out living a normal life now but an old fan recognises her, she's with her brother and son, maybe they don't recognise the brother and they think she's got a new man and kid, she always wanted a kid and Lewis was never ready wanting to wait. maybe that photo gets released so lewis finds out that way. loads of rumours on twitter. maybe not directly, someone else could bring it up. Jealous then realises. He tries to contact her, doesnt work, blocked on everything. He remembers where her parents house is and visits them, eventually meets yn and their son. Then co-parenting. But like no friendly friendly just civil. She has the son, Lewis has him on free weeks. She does eventually move up cuz when her son is with lewis, she has free time for dates. Just a regular guy tho and it's all great and eventually lewis also tries moving on but like fr this time. so like eventually yn and her new bf move in together, live a happy faithful life and have another kid. while lewis maybe has just won his 8th (or 9th depending on time line) but it's not what he dreamed of, not having yn to celebrate with. But he's got his now long term gf and he proposes.

so basically to summarise, she is alone, single mom, gets exposed, Lewis finds her, civil co-parenting, yn gets a bf happy life, Lewis eventually gets a gf, happy without each other

This is a little blurb on how I imagine a third ending of Say Something would go:

You leave, right after finding out about the pregnancy, maybe somewhere far from England and Monaco. Lewis doesn’t deserve to reap what you saw after ruining your future. He doesn’t deserve you or your kid or to play happy family. You move away, maybe to a farm Australia, since you’ve always wanted a quiet life anyway. Your parents and brother accept moving in with you to help with the risky pregnancy. It’s tough, you can’t do much to risk your health and the baby’s. Soon you find out it’s a boy, you’re happy something good came out of a dumpster fire that was your relationship with him. Him, because you don’t say his name anymore, trying to leave his memory behind.

You baby boy is delivered in a difficult C-section, one your brother and parents never left your side and you felt less alone, not sharing the moment with the father of your kid. The day is happy and sunny, so you name him Helio, like the sun. Like the light in your life. You realize you’ll never fully leave his memory behind, his son being his spitting image. The same hair, the same complexion, the same nose, the same shiny brown eyes and chubby baby cheeks. And you love him so much it hurts. You realize you may have lost him, but Helio was pretty much his copy.

Following your baby’s firsts is the happiest you’ve ever felt. Saying ‘mama’ for the first time, taking his first steps, playing with animals and saying his first words. You settle in a happy routine as a single mom. After the pregnancy, your parents move back to England because they couldn’t just leave their house. Your brother stay with you and your sister move in too, after finishing college.

You try not to know about him. Last you had heard was during the pregnancy, hearing about endless parties, trips and models, that had taken a toll on you, in a way you decided to stop looking. He had a life and you had a completely different one now.

Helio goes to school, eventually. Despite feeling protective, you know you can’t deprive him of a true kindergarten experience, not only for studies, but also for his formative years and to become socially active. The first year, your sister, who has a volunteering job close to his school, is the one who picks Helio up everyday. He makes friends at school and even invite them for a birthday party at the farm. It’s one of the happiest moments for him, eating cake with friends and showing them his pets.

During his second year, though, your sister get a little sick, so she can’t pick Helio from school. And you decide to go, along with your brother. It’s a hot day, so you stop by a park to eat frozen yogurt and let Helio play a little while.

That day, someone recognised you and recorded you.

That’s how Lewis finds you. The video eventually find its way to him. The post has a silly caption ‘for everyone wondering what had happened to y/n, seems like she found a new man and started a family’. Lewis scoffs because he knows the man in the video is your brother and you are thick as thieves ever since you were kids.

You’re just as pretty as ever. Maybe a little more curvy, and hair longer, but just the same, still the most beautiful woman-

But then he pauses. He zooms in the video and see the toddler running up to you. The little boy, who makes your eyes light up as you hug him, sharing what looks like ice cream or something. And from what Lewis can imagine, the boy looks 4 or 5 years old. But there’s no denying, he looks exactly like Lewis as a baby, if he put a baby picture of him beside the boy in the video, it would be the same. It was a matter of time until some of his fans put two and two together.

That’s how Lewis ends up going to your parents’ house in England. He had gone there after the divorce, but the house was for rent and he couldn’t contact your parents of you, after cutting him off completely. Now, when he knocks, you mum is the one to open.

“Is he mine?” Is all he asks, breathing hard.

Your mom let him in, seeing his state of distress. She doesn’t lie nor sugarcoat it. She tried to convince you to let Lewis know about the kid. Helio, he muses, whispering the name of the little boy he never even met.

He goes to Australia with your mum, not even letting you know first, because your mum believed you’d run away once again.

When he makes it to the farm, you’re out in the field with Helio, you two running and playing together barefoot on the grass. He hears Helio’s laugh, yours too, and something inside him breaks. He’s seeing before his eyes the life he threw away for one stupid mistake.

As soon as you notice him, you stop laughing, holding Helio behind you, protective. You call your brother out, asking him to take Helio upstairs and not leave until you say so. Lewis just watches helplessly as your brother takes his nephew inside and Lewis couldn’t even get a closer look at his son.

“Mom, what did you do?” You say, betrayed. You mum explains everything and you invite both of them inside.

Inside, you fight, almost shouting until you remember Helio upstairs, forcing yourself to calm down. Lewis feels betrayed, you tell to his face he doesn’t deserve this life. You pull a stack of documents, asking Lewis to sign. It’s a contract saying he gives up any rights over the kid. Lewis cries.

Your mother mediates.

After what feels like hours of arguing back and forth, you accept Lewis begging to know his kid, begging to be part of his life. How could you deny your kid of a father now you couldn’t hide him behind a layer of ignorance?

You introduce father and son a couple of days later, in the presence of a child therapist, to help mediate. Helio is skittish in the beginning, but he quickly warms up to Lewis. Sometimes, he run backs to you, hugging you tightly, feeling shy. You reassure him, letting him go back to meeting his father.

“Mama, do all daddies take this long?” Helio asks that night when you’re putting him to sleep. You swallow your tears when answering.

“No, my baby. Not all of them. One day you’ll understand better, yes?”

The first time Lewis takes Helio for the day, you cry for hours, feeling like a mother bird in an empty nest. He had invited his family to a nearby city, only 40 minutes away so he could introduce Helio to them. It’s planned for them to come back by dinner time, to not disturb Helio’s routine. But they come back earlier and your baby looked like he’d been crying. Worried, you carry him inside while Lewis explains that the first few hours Helio was enjoying himself and meeting everyone, but after a while, he started crying because he ‘wanted Mama’. Selfishly, that makes your heart grow easier, because you know Helio would never forget you, and in the end of the day, he’d would always want Mama’s arms.

The first months are like torture, until you get used to Helio coming back at the end of the day. Your Helio, your baby, becomes Helio Hamilton when Lewis registers him. Lewis tries to win you over many times, with gifts, inviting you to dates, until you have a stern talk with him, telling him it wasn’t happening. That every time you were polite and respectful to him, Helio’s well being is the only thing in your mind.

Eventually, the media finds out about Helio. Lewis blatantly lies, saying he had been keeping his son’s existence a secret for his safety and privacy. People mostly respected his wishes.

You see Lewis’ family for the first time again at Helio’s fifth birthday. You thought they’d hate you for hiding their grandkid/nephew, but they treat you with the same kindness as always, and you feel just a tiny bit of guilt for hiding Helio for so long.

You realised that you had much more free time now that Helio was with Lewis half of the time. So you started going to the gym, going shopping, not only for Helio but for yourself, you went to museums, parks and eventually, dates.

One day you meet Leon, a recluse just like you. He’s a writer, living in a cottage in a close city. You hit it off, but you and him get to know each other for a whole year before you introduce him to your family, and Lewis. Your ex-husband doesn’t take it well, admitting that deep down he thought you’d go back and be a family. You tell him, he ruined that himself.

You find some resemblance of balance. With Lewis’ coming to pick Helio whenever he had free time, you weren’t friends just a cold politeness.

Lewis, whenever he had to pick Helio, he found you and Leon sitting by the porch, or horseback riding, or helping Helio with homework and school projects, he would always envy your life, the happy family he could have, but he had only himself to blame. When he finds out by Helio you’re having another baby, he swears a part of him dies forever, buried alongside your love for him, and the future he threw away. Eventually, Lewis married again, a woman who loves him, loves Helio and she even gets along with you well, and that’s all he can ask for, knowing deep down he would never love someone else the way he loved you.

PHEW! I may have gotten carried away. Thank you for your ideia, Anon! I hope this was alright!

[constantinerkives]

The Model and the Muse // YJM, one-shot

PAIRINGS: Model! Karina x Non-celeb fem reader WARNINGS: Established relationship, secret relationship - well, not anymore IG, jealousy haha, Karina is FERAL for you in a soft way, territorial Rina, soft ending, I think that's pretty much it A/N: I based this on a prompt submitted to me:

You asked, I shall deliver <3

When you care for someone - love someone, sacrifices are made. 

You just weren't informed that one of those sacrifices would be telling the world that you love her. Enter Karina Yoo, one of the highest-paid models in the European Fashion Houses, mainly Givenchy, Yves Saint Laurent, and Loius Vuitton. 

She courted you three years ago, she was a rising star, and you were just a junior stylist. And you said yes to becoming her lover a year ago before her agency hired her as a model, and to your amusement and irritation, her 'fans' abhor the concept of dating when it comes to her. They're allergic to that term. But that didn't stop the older woman from sneaking out to see you, sending you gifts even when both of you were busy with Fashion Week. 

So for your safety and hers (not to mention her career), you two decided to keep it a secret until the crowd becomes more forgiving. 

It's challenging - especially when the media and the public are fixated on her.

Do you know what else is challenging? 

Remain composed whenever someone blatantly flirts with her. 

Who can blame them? Your lover is a beautiful woman - beautiful is an understatement. She's like a goddess reincarnated as a human, blessed with elegance, wit, and grace. You thank the universe for blessing you with her, but you pray to the universe to give you patience and not strength whenever someone tries to shoot their shot because if the universe grants you strength; you might jam your powder blush brush into their neck. But there's nothing you can do about it. It was your agreement with her, so you learned to live with it because every time someone tried after the event, Karina would reciprocate, but her words were empty, and you'd share an irritated glance before she excused herself to an isolated room, signaling for you to follow and the next thing you know your back is pressed against any firm surface, and her lips are molding against yours, her perfume will infiltrate your sense of smell and her scent would linger on you for a while before she'd get out of the room looking fresh as if she wasn't ravaging your lips and your neck two minutes ago. 

Even so, you tried to keep your interactions minimum knowing that when you two slip away from the buzz of both the media and the public, Karina Yoo transforms; gone is the practiced persona of Givenchy, YSL, and LV's brand, replaced by a much simpler girl, Yoo Jimin; who loves dinosaurs and cuddling you until both your body temperature becomes unbearable. 

Your ears perked upon hearing the keypad of your rented apartment in Paris beeping. Giddy, a smile breaks past your lips, and you hastily turn off the stove before rushing to the living room. She's home. A soft laugh falls from her lips the moment your body comes in contact with hers. Soon, you feel her lean arms wrap around your figure, flushing you against her front. 

"Oh," You inhale her favorite scent, pressing your nose against the skin of her neck that's exposed by her white, button-down shirt. Top notes of blackberry, releasing an instant burst of juiciness, natural blackcurrant buds, and a fruity, slightly tart scent. Heart notes of bay leaves, and base notes of Cedarwood. "How I've missed you." 

"I miss you too," She whispers, low and husky. Her breath fans your lips as soon as you pull away to hold her delicate face. "How're the rehearsals for the Fashion Week?" 

Jimin closes her eyes and leans into your warmth, "Tiring," She then opens her eyes and peers over your shoulders. "What's for dinner?"

"Steak tartare and onion soup." You answer with a grin and gently massage her jaw. "Go get changed. I'll prepare the dishes." 

"Yes, ma'am." Your lover obeys before pecking your lips, taking her messenger bag, and disappearing into your shared room. You watched her with a fond smile and began preparing the plates. 

In Paris, there are fewer eyes, few are aware, and maybe you hope they won't care. Jimin, being an A-list model, used her privileges and bought an apartment that's private and near the venue for their Fashion Week. With this, she can go home in peace and be with you every day and night. But that doesn't stop you from staying careful, but you're glad for small mercies like this one. 

"I'll be starting the event," She tells you with a gleeful smile while she takes a spoonful of onion soup and hums in delight. "Damn, this tastes good!"

A bemused laugh falls off your lips as your eyes watch her fondly while she recounts the events that happened during her rehearsals. "Oh, don't you know - I'm going to wear Nicolas Chesquière's pieces! Oh, you should have seen them-" 

She stops upon looking up to see you looking at her warmly. Her cheeks subtly turn pink, and she sheepishly puts down her spoon. "Oh, I'm rambling again, aren't I?"

You giggle at her, "No, no," You shake your head sideways. "Keep talking. I like your voice." Your lover giggles in return before sighing heavily, "You'll be there in the event, right? I mean, as our designated stylist?"

"Of course," You reach out for her hand, "Where you go, I go - it's part of the job, Jiminnie." She smiles softly, "Then can you stay after the event?"

"For what?" 

"A party, honey." 

You blink at the older woman, "I - have nothing to wear, Jimin - you know those parties are full of elites and socialites. I'll look out of place." 

The latter's face becomes serious, "No, no you won't. You'll match with me during the party, Y/N." You incline your head at her notion as she gracefully stands up from her seat and walks to your shared bedroom. 

"Karina?" You furrow your brows and follow after her, "What are you doing?"

The hinges of the door allow you to push them smoothly and see the raven-haired beauty holding up a huge Loius Vuitton shopping bag, and she's holding two of them.

Your jaw slacks as she holds them out to you with a beaming grin, "I bought these for you." 

"Jesus," You mutter as you slowly approach the model, "Are you for real?"

"You want to see them? They're ready to be released tomorrow, but the creative director allowed me to choose." She pauses, "I also got the one for your size, don't worry; I picked them alone in the production room." Her soft brown eyes traverse to the shopping bag, "Take it, my love. I picked them just for you."  

With tentative hands, you take the bag from her and open it under her expectant gaze as she sits at the edge of the bed. You open it carefully, and you nearly drop the bag. 

The coat Jimin chose for you is a white, elegant, double-breasted coat. A white nautical leather accent ribbed coat, "You can use the relaxed-fit shirt for the top." 

You caress the soft fabric of your shirt before gently placing it on top of the bed, Karina giggles at your action as you move your attention to your second bag. It's just as big as the first one.

"Laureate desert boots," Karina grins as you examine the article on footwear. "It's beautiful," You mumbled before looking at her, slacked-jawed. The latter subtly blushes and sheepishly scratches the nape of her neck. "What about yours, though?" You inquire, and she replies with a wink. "You'll see it after the event."

You place your index finger against your chin as if you were thinking as your eyes dart from the attire and your lover, who looks at you softly with a smile before finally giving in. "Alright, after all, it would be a shame if I don't flaunt this newly released piece." 

That pleased the raven-haired model as she got up from the bed, and unexpectedly lifted you by the hips and spun you around. That is always her reaction whenever you'd agree to join her for the after-party of the event. 

"Thank you," She says breathlessly after putting you down, warmth spreads through your body as you cup her right cheek and massage it softly with your thumb. "Seeing you there means a lot to me." 

She leans in for more and closes her eyes as you whisper to her, vow to her:

"Anything for you, my love." 

"Girls! You have fifteen minutes before we need to bring the models backstage! Hurry up!"

A hiss leaves your lips as you run from stall to stall, helping distribute their pieces for the runway. "Hey! Watch it!" One of the staff members snapped, but you didn't pay attention. Apologizing can come second. You need to do your job first, otherwise, the coordinator will have your head on a platter. 

As you approach the stock room for more articles of expensive clothing, you locked eyes with Karina who's being accessorized by her stylists, she sends you a small smile and you flash her yours before you return to work. 

"Fuck," One of your coworkers, Chaewon, cursed. 

"What?" You inquire the short-haired girl as she skims through the wardrobe. She looks at you apologetically. 

"I'm sorry, Y/N, I can multiply myself so," You chuckle at her words as she comes to you with a sealed LV box; jewelry. "Can you make sure that Yunjin wears this before she steps on the runway?"

Yunjin? As in The Huh Yunjin? The rumored nepo baby?

As if reading your thoughts, Chaewaon shoves the box against your chest, "Yes - that Yunjin, I'm so sorry, Y/N, I'm needed at the other department-"

"Chae," You raise an open palm, "No worries, now go. I'll take care of this." 

The short-haired girl smiles in relief before departing from you while you look for Huh Yunjin's fitting room. Huh Yunjin, standing at exactly 5'8, has black, long hair, and softer features, and has been part of the agency since she was 18 years old. Not to mention, a rumored nepo baby due to her father's connections and influence with the fashion industry he was a part of. 

 Your knuckles gently knock against Yunjin's fitting room. You hear a faint: "Come in!" 

Upon entering, you immediately spot the model being pampered by her make-up artist, her kind, bright obsidian eyes lock with yours through the reflection, and her plump, pink lips curl to a kind smile and raise her hand to stop her make-up, the latter obeys as she stands up to face you. Huh Yunjin is wearing LV's Inverted Mahina Monogram Shirt Dress and Donna high boots. She's stunning. 

"Hello, Miss Huh," You greet her with a bow before presenting her with the jewelry box, "I'm here to add finishing touches to your outfit before you hit the runway."

"Wonderful," She approaches you, the heels of her boots scraping against the marble floors as she walks towards you. "Can I see it, Miss?" She pauses as she holds your confused gaze. Then it clicks, she doesn't know you, and she needs to address you by your name as a stylist. 

"Ah," You flush, "I'm Y/N." You open the box to reveal her matching chain earrings and necklace. "Perfect," The model grins and takes a handful of her luscious, black hair and turns around, and lowers her height by bending her knees. 

"Can you help me with the necklace?"

"Sure," Gently, you put the box down and delicately take the necklace before opening the hook and letting it rest at the base of the model's slim neck before locking it in place. 

Yunjin turns around, and her collar is ruffled, "Oh," You click your tongue, "Let me fix that for you." 

The black-haired beauty obliges with a smile before bending her knees for you to fix her dress. "Stay like that, please." You tell her gently before taking the earrings and donning them on the gorgeous model. 

"There," You step back to admire your work, and Yunjin stands up and looks at her reflection. "Thank you, Y/N." Her make-up artist approaches her and hands Yunjin her petite handbag. "I've been meaning to ask since it's my first time seeing you here," The model begins, "What happened to Chaewon?"

"Oh, that," You examine her attire to see if there's anything out of place There was none. "She was called to another department to handle technical issues." You place a hand over your chest, " I came in her stead." 

 The latter hums, and your two-way radio beeps, garnering your attention. "Miss Lee, please bring Yunjin backstage ASAP." 

You look at her, "Time to go, Miss Huh." 

"Please, just address me by my first name: Yunjin. And can you accompany me backstage, Y/N? Just to see if my attire needs more fixing." 

An innocent request, and besides, she's a model so of course her attire as well as her appearance must be the top priority. "Sure, Yunjin, follow me." The taller woman obliges and follows you backstage where the rest of the models are stationed, hidden behind the velvet curtains of the runway stage. You can hear music blaring from the other side as LV's models go in and out backstage to change their attires. Immediately, your eyes spot Jimin talking to a male model with feminine features, Hwang Hyunjin. You know the man, him and his twin Yeji; both of them come from respectable backgrounds with a matching humble attitude. 

You trust them both with your secret lover. 

Your soft features twist to a scowl as you spot a familiar, arrogant face approaching her. 

Except him

Yunjin groans as she sees the man, or at least that is what you assumed before she confirms it. "Jeno is back for more." She whispers close to you, "But before I spread hate, you know about him, yeah? His reputation with female models?"

"Of course," You confirm as you ball your hands. "It's not difficult to believe them with a face like that." 

The model chuckles, and you turn to face her with an arched brow, "What?" She waves her hand dismissively, "Nothing Y/N. Let's say I like your vibe already." You hum and look back at your lover who's throwing him a strained smile. "Poor Karina, ever since she began modeling for Loius Vuitton, she became Jeno's fixation." 

"I agree," You mumble. Yunjin looks at you and hums. "Now that you've seen the designs, what's your favorite?"

The inquiry distracts you, and you tear your gaze from Jimin, "Designs?" You repeat as you look around before answering her. "Karina's, Kazuha's, and lastly," You gesture a hand at her dress, "Yours, or maybe because you're wearing it?" You playfully stated, and the model threw her head back with a soft laugh, eliciting the same reaction from you.

For a moment, your jealousy ebbs; you've gained a new friend.

And a few meters away from you two, Karina's eyes were focused on you. Her hearing blocks Jeno's nonsense while you and Yunjin laugh and move closer to each other and talk in hushed voices before giggling amongst yourselves. 

In three days, you and Yunjin became close. 

She wasn't hard to talk to, Yunjin is open-minded to various topics, and you two share the same expression whenever Jeno walks by. The other stylist picked this up as the model seems comfortable enough to cackle with you, and you cackle with her. You two are that close. 

Karina doesn't seem to mind, but she's mindful of how close you two are, especially with Yunjin's touchy persona to the people she's closest to. 

"Hey Y/N, it's Chae. Karina's stylist is going to be late. Can you file in for her?"

The mention of your lover's name perks you up, "Sure!" You clear your throat and change your tone to a neutral octave. "Sure,"

Giddy, you rushed to find Karina's fitting room. She didn't mention bringing anything, so you assumed that Karina was waiting for your guidance with her attire. Upon entering her fitting room, Karina is seen laying down on the sectional couch wearing a white bathrobe, her hair is slightly wet, and her eyes are closed. 

Smiling softly, you quietly approach the sleeping beauty. The event doesn't start in the next three hours, but as the coordinator said: The earlier, the better. They can nap afterward once they're done dressing up. 

You bend until your face is only centimeters apart, "Rina," You whisper, "Get up. You need to get ready." The older girl groans softly before opening one eye, "Y/N," She calls out softly before smiling, and before you know it, her arms are around your neck as she pulls you close to her, eliciting a yelp of surprise from you as you land on top of her firm body, Karina hums and entraps you with her arms as she hides her head in between your neck and inhales your scent. 

As much as you like being in her arms, this is a public venue. 

"Karina!" You whisper in alarm, "We'll get caught!"

The latter whine and presses soft kisses against the exposed expanse of your neck. 

"Karina!" You whisper more firmly, and she sighs. You relent, "Okay, okay. Five minutes."

Five minutes later, you two began to work. You waited patiently while the make-up artist adds finishing touches to her makeup, Karina kept her eyes closed while the latter works on her face. While that happens, you take secret photos of her and admire them. The camera doesn't do her justice as you examine her features. Soft brown eyes mapping her sharp, upturned nose, her small jaw, big, intelligent, sharp eyes, and Karina's soft lips. 

All of her: you memorized and fell for every day. 

"Okay, she's done." Declares the artist, "I'll get going now." She bows at Karina, "I have another model waiting for me." 

"It's fine," Karina assures, "Y/N will take it from here."

The artist didn't waste tie and immediately left the room. Karina smiles upon hearing the door click close as you approach the wardrobe and skim through its contents before setting your eyes on the white, tapered wool-crepe mini dress. "Perfect," You purr to yourself before turning to face her. Karina was already standing with her loose bathrobe. 

"This should look perfect on you," You then paused, "Who am I kidding, you look good in everything." 

The latter chuckles, "I'm flattered," She grins as you come close to her, "But the clothes are just accessories. I look better when I'm with you." 

Warmth spreads to your cheeks, and you playfully swat her shoulder, "Cheeky," You mused, "Change into this, and I'll get you boots-"

If your cheeks were pink, now they've turned red; Karina discarded her robe and allowed it to slip until it reached her shoulders. "Rina!" 

"What?" She shrugs her shoulders nonchalantly, "You've seen me naked before. That shouldn't bother you." 

"We're in public," You hiss but make no move to cover her. Karina's lip curls to a smirk, "The way I see it, darling." She brushes her knuckles gently against your left cheek; you shudder at her touch. "It's just the two of us here, alone." 

"You wouldn't dare," You protested. The older woman grins, "I'm kidding. Help me change, baby." 

You grunt as she allows the robe to pool around her feet while you unzip the dress and help her don it. While you're busy fixing the dress, Karina just stares at you, shamelessly ogling as you correct her dress. 

"It'll last longer if you take a picture," You joked. Karina hums and grasps your waist, "Why would I need that when I see you every day and night?"

A small smile graces your lips, "You're right."

"And I have you in my bed," She leans close, "Satisfied with my warmth, my touch." Your brow raises at the innuendo. "Karina," 

"What?" She slyly queries, "I'm just stating a fact," 

"Behave," 

Her chest rumbles a low chuckle, causing your guts to churn as she rasps:

"Are you nervous?" She ghost her lips against the side of your face, her cold breath fans your skin. "It's just me, darling, there's nothing to be nervous about." 

"That's the thing," You whisper, your voice becoming weak when it comes to her. "God knows what you do whenever we're alone, and you're acting like this."

Your lover chuckles and assaults your neck with butterfly kisses. For a moment, you allow her to map your skin with her lips before she reaches yours. Her grip becomes tight, and she kisses you with ardent need, searing and unrelenting. And you allow her to do this. Your arms; still aware of the expensive fabric she's wearing, decided to wrap your arms around her neck and pull her closer. Both your lips move languidly against each other, swallowing each other's breaths until both of your lungs burn for oxygen. You were the first to pull away with a pant, Karina looks at you with a hooded gaze before swiping your lower lip with her thumb. 

"You're mine, Lee Y/N."

"And so are you," 

She grasps your jaw, "And I love you."

That caught you off-guard. Your heart swells, and you peck her lips. 

"I love you too, Yoo Jimin." 

"Good," She whispers before you lean away from her to get her ankle-length boots. 

Karina is a simple creature. If she sees you, she's happy. 

But if she sees someone being a little too friendly with you, she becomes territorial. 

She shouldn't be irritated when Yunjin's with you, from what she's heard and seen; Yunjin is a kind woman with a caring personality. She's touchy with the people whom she's close with. She shouldn't feel threatened, but every time Yunjin whispers a little too close for her liking, or whenever she fixes your clothes, something inside her threatens to snap. 

It feels all too intimate, all too soon. 

She grips the stem of her wine glass, courtesy of the aforementioned competition leading you to her friends by the small area of your back, wearing the coat she had picked for you before the Fashion Week began. 

Paris Fashion Week had just ended five hours ago, cue in the after-party - and you look gorgeous in your attire with your hair neatly combed and pressed. Gorgeous, and only she should be admiring you. She knows it's selfish, but that's what makes her human, to yearn for you and have you forever beside her, to tell the world - tell the goddamn world that she loves you. 

"Karina," Jeno's voice snaps her from her reverie, and a scowl threatens to show. "What is it, Jeno?"

"Now that the Fashion Week's over, I was wondering..." In her head, she blocks out his voice as she sees Yunjin's friends gather around you like a prized item. Her sight sharpens as Yunjin brushes your hair back with a smile. 

"She's been doing that frequently," The raven-haired beauty mumbles and sips her drink lightly while Jeno babbles incoherently. 

Yunjin leans in to whisper something in your ear once again, causing you to giggle and playfully swat her shoulder while the taller woman grins at you and takes you to another group. 

Before your lover can even think about her next action, her body gracefully follows you and Yunjin, no longer heeding the protest of the man as she keeps her eyes trained on you. 

Upon following you, she sees you conversing with a familiar group; Giselle, Winter, and the youngest of the bunch: Minji. You and Yunjin seem to be having fun conversing with them judging by the way your pleasant laugh falls from your pristine lips. She decides to listen before approaching.

"Lee Y/N?" Winter, the short-haired girl repeats, "Oh my god, I didn't recognize you in your outfit, you look good!" Karina smirks as she sips her drink. 

"Oh," You flushed, "Stop it,"

"It's true," Minji affirms, "You should wear clothes like that more, Y/N. It brings out the stylist in you." 

"If it does, then I'd be spending millions just to look the part." You joked, and the group laughs, even Karina, who chuckles. 

"Oh, don't worry about a thing," Yunjin grins, "If it makes you feel better, "I'll spoil you with such gifts." Karina's eye twitches. No, that's her job. 

The group lets out a loud "Oooh," 

"You know," Giselle slyly smiles, "If I hadn't known any better, I'd think you two are actually dating." You chuckle nervously while Yunjin hums, "Do you think we'd make a great couple if we are?"

Karina didn't dare let them finish, no. She stormed towards the group, muttering a rough: "Excuse me, I'll be taking her for a moment." And grabs you by the wrist, surprising you as she immediately whisks you away from them without waiting for a reply and leads you to the podium. 

"Jimin!" You whisper harshly to her, "What are you planning to do?"

She didn't say anything before she finally reaches the podium with you standing awkwardly next to her. She then garners the attention of the crowd by tapping on the mic while your eyes find Yunjin looking at the two of you, confusion etched on her beautiful face. 

"Hello, everyone. May I please have your attention?" Karina begins, and the crowd obliges in confusion and curiosity. "Jimin," You fidgeted, and she leaned away from the mic and looked at you fondly, "Let me do this, my love. Let me tell the world who you are to me."

Your posture relaxes, and you nod in agreement. Jimin felt elated; a nod from you is all she needs as you held her hand tightly. 

"Everyone," She grins and tightens her hold around your hand. "This is Lee Y/N, all of you may know her as a stylist - but she is my girlfriend." 

The crowd gasps and cheers and your girlfriend laughs. "And I want to tell everyone in this room that she is mine as I am hers. So to those who think she's single, she is not." The hall is mixed with the crowds' chuckles and murmurs. 

"That's all everyone, do enjoy your evening." She ends her announcement by moving your intertwined hands to her lips and pressing a kiss against the back of your palm mouthing: I love you.

And the day after, the world knew the two of you. From yearning glances and minimal brushes to proud stares and warm touches. 

You are hers as she is yours; the world finally knows this and accepts it or either ignores it, you don't care so long as they know that the two of you belong to each other:

The Model, and her Muse. 

Fin.

[marleyybluu]

Doubts

Pedro Pascal x fem!reader

WC: 1.4k

Another quick one

Warnings: just cute fluffiness, Pedro being a soon-to-be dad, pregnancy

lol this is such a fucking cute pic omg

"Hi YN, how are you?" One of the cast members greeted, you pushed out a smile despite the tiredness you felt all over. A bulging belly was all you were, you had two months left and you were ready for them to come and go, you loved most of your pregnancy— it was a beautiful experience for the most part. The little moments where you'd feel her feet kicking you, when she'd rotate to make herself comfortable, it was a slap in the head to realize you were growing an actual person inside of you.

"I'm great, how are you?" You conversed. "Doing good, how is baby Pascal?" You beamed every time someone referred to her as such, it was a gentle reminder that you chose the best partner to make another human with. "She is doing good, we brought some food for dad. Is he on his lunch yet?"

She nodded. "He should be in the makeup room with Bella."

"Thanks."

Today you decided to surprise Pedro on the set of the new series 'The Last of Us.' You had told a bit of a fib this morning telling him you wouldn't be able to visit due to a doctor's appointment you had around his lunch break. Well, it wasn't a total lie you did have an appointment but it was in the morning way before his lunch, so you bought some food and drove out to the set. You were hoping he'd be excited as you were. You made your way down the hall to the makeup room, saying hi to a few people who you were fond of, you were finally approaching the room when she heard Bella, his co-star, mention your name.

"So are you excited to have a baby? Will you guys let me know when she gets here?" 

You quietly chuckled, Bella was a sweetheart and honestly the way their personality was set up you would think Pedro and yourself had created them. When you told them the news about the baby they couldn't stop smiling, texting you the next day that they could barely feel their cheeks and their reaction to being asked to be your child's Godsibling really set it in stone for you. The three of you spent a lot of time together, you loved how they and Pedro got along so you figuratively adopted them as your own.

"Yeah I'm excited, maybe a bit worried, but excited nonetheless."

You frowned. Worried about what?

"Worried about what?" Bella asked, taking the words right out of your mouth. Pedro shrugged. "You're great with kids though."

He nodded. "But it's different when it's your own, you have to be a great example of what she should be, a role model and what if I'm not the best example?"

You placed your hand on your stomach out of habit, why did he never say this to you before? You had told him your doubts about becoming a mother and he reassured you every time, surely you'd do the same for him. You straightened yourself up and knocked on the door frame peeking your head from behind the wall. "Hellooo."

"YN!" Bella exclaimed, they sprinted out of their seat leaving Pedro in the dust, and they carefully engulfed you in a loving embrace. "How's it going, honey?"

"Good, just shooting and talking to the old man here."

You looked up at Pedro who had a sheepish smile on his face, you bent your lips in attempting to hide your own grin but you couldn't help it, every time you saw him it poured a bit more joy into your soul. Bella's eye ran between you and Pedro and they grimaced. "I will leave you two to be gross, bye baby." They planted a kiss on your tummy and another on your cheek before leaving you and Pedro alone. You reached out hoping to receive a hug which he gladly delivered. He nuzzled his nose into your neck and planted a small kiss on the side. "Hi, mama."

"Hi baby, you okay?"

"Better now that you guys are here." He never left out his unborn child, often referring to you as two people now. You two pulled apart, you lifted up the brown bag containing your meals and gently shook it. "Was hoping we could have lunch together."

Pedro's eyes sparkled with love at the way you said that. "Always. No drinks though?" You closed your eyes in immediate defeat, you knew your hand felt empty but you didn't know what was missing. "They're in the car, sorry, mommy brain." He playfully pouted laying his palm out and asking for the keys. "No, it's cool I'll get them." You reassured.

"YN." That tone was stern, he barely wanted you holding that lunch bag let alone waddling back to the car for drinks, you kissed your teeth and handed over the car keys. "Meet me in my trailer?"

You agreed and watched him vanish. You took your sweet time navigating back out of the hallway and maneuvered around the set until you arrived at Pedro's trailer outside, thank goodness Alberta's weather was tolerable today, it wasn't too cold but half the time you couldn't tell anyway. The constant hot flashes had you boiling in your own sauna for one minute and freezing your ass off when it died down. You made your way inside, you huffed completely exhausted from your little trip, after catching your breath you sat down on the couch and placed the bag on the table.

As you took the contents out the door swung open revealing Pedro holding the tray with your drinks and a little bag in his hand. "Thank you." You took the tray out of his hands and placed it on the table, you nodded toward the bag. "What's that?"

"They had red velvet cupcakes at the snack table and I know that's been one of your cravings lately, so I... snatched an unopened container..."

You shook your head. There really wasn't anything he wouldn't do for you. You thanked him and placed the treat next to your food. The cushion next to you sank as he sat down, you could feel his gaze on you but tried your best to avoid it. He raised his hand and proper his finger under your chin to turn your head towards him. "I knew you were coming."

"Shut up no you didn't."

He gave you a quick kiss on the lips, you whined wanting a longer one. "Yes, I did." He replied. "How was the appointment? Everything's good?"

You nodded. "She still has ten fingers, ten toes and a big head."

He frowned. "Don't talk about my baby like that." You laughed kissing his head as an apology. The two of you finally dug into your meals, talking about what was new even though you didn't have many updates. Pedro talked about how the show was going and how much he was enjoying filming. You were proud of him, his career had really skyrocketed recently and though it kept him busy you were happy to hold down the fort for him.

After you finished eating you made yourself extra comfortable on the sofa, leaning against the armrest with your legs laid out on the cushions. Pedro chuckled at how exhausted you were, it was cute, it couldn't be easy carrying around a boulder all day. He assisted in removing your crocs and letting you rest but not before crawling between your legs and gently relaxing his head beside your belly. You absentmindedly ran your hands through his hair and rested it on the back of his head.

Slumber was near and you tried so hard to fight it but judging by how quiet you'd become, it wasn't hard for Pedro to tell you were dozing off. He planted a light kiss on your stomach with a gentle poke at your belly button which earned a kick from the baby. "Yeah, I know you're in there." You smiled at their communication. "I'm ready for her to be out here." You mumbled sleepily. "Me too."

"I chose the best person in the world to create life with, you are going to be an amazing father Pedrito. You spoil her and she's not even here yet, you've shown her so much love that at this point I am just carrying her for you and you only." 

He looked up at you figuring you overheard his conversation with Bella. "I don't think baby Pascal would've chosen us for no reason."

The reassurance gave him a bit of a boost, slowly melting away whatever doubts he had earlier today. "I love you." He cooed. "I love you too, baby."

He rubbed your belly and nuzzled his nose on the side. "And I love you, mi corazoncito." 

If you're new here (hi how are ya) I have this thing where I like to write my boys as fathers so expect a lot more of this. Especially with Pedro because... I mean, it's him. also I heard Bella Ramsey is non-binary, correct me if I'm wrong though i don't mind if you liked this fic, feel free to like this fic. Comments and reblogs are appreciated. I will be going back to the regularly scheduled program of the main 3, but we'll circle back to Papi Pedro soon dw😏 peace and love

tags: @skyesthebomb

[bigfatbimbo]

Because velvette would be shocked to her core if the object of her affection and love is unresponsive.

Because she would try to get them to go out on a date with her because everyone in hell would be right about dying to have the oportunity to connect with such an afluent sinner. Thousands of wanna-be models would probably faint if velvette even suggested them being a "perfect fit" for her work, so, why, pray tell, did this person not entertain the idea of her not only suggesting that they would be welcome to work with her, but also her wanting to be closer with them?

She's used to some demons denying her things (ahhem, other overlords exclusivelly, mind you.) but they never held out their refusal for long. After about 2 whole attempts she'd start pretending she no longer cared. Take that, you! She doesn't even want you anymore. She is so much better than you and can get so much more than you can give, just watch!

... except she's been stalking your social media accounts and put up special notifications for whenever you post. Probably got a favor off of vox to monitor you more closely by getting access to the security cameras of whatever place you lived in.

Except she made a different alt account just to be able to like your pictures and not blow the cover on her "not caring about you" scheme.

Except she has been sending anonymous little gifts of the designer bags and clothes she'd wanted to dress you in herself.

(According to her they are "little" gifts. She's a little out of touch, even though she seems not to be since she talks so much about how important she is, which, is not by any means a lie. It's all a front, really. She is absolutely shattered by the idea of someone not bowing down and kissing the ground she walks on and begging for gigs with her. The image of "velvette" she put up for the world does not allign with the velvette she has in her mind, but, since there are basically no people who can get to that deep burried part of herself, she had been able to convince herself that the fragile part of her was long since gone.

"There are basically no people who can get to that part of her". Now there is one. You. Eating away at her fabricated confidence with your (according to her own self pity, "cruel" disregard of her love for you. You broke down her walls so easily.)

In your interactions, she attempted to be as cold, distant and rude as she always was. Ah.. but the little giggles you let out whenever she delivered a particularly nasty, ridiculous insult would make her brain all fuzzy, train of thought gone and her eyes unable to pull away from your damned smile.

(It'd be especially bad if the insult was directed at you. Something about how incompetent and useless you were. The way you clearly weren't affected by her empty remarks got under her skin. She wanted to convince herself that it was intentional on your part, the suposed "teasing" against her, that is. But in reality, you just saw through her, read her like an open book with pictures for a smoother comprehension. You had her wrapped around your finger, ready to do whatever you wanted if you ever requested it.

Oh how badly she wanted you to ask something of her. Finally being useful for the person who had her legs weak and stomach doing flips for what felt like millenia for her. Your indiference cut through her like a heated knife through butter. It made her feel so small. She'd get back at you for that through making you do quite literally everything for her. You were basically her unoficial assistant. It was her way of feeling as if she had power over you, but, since you were bound by no contract and weren't getting (formally, at least.) paid, you could simply stop whenever you'd like.

If you were ever unusally late to arrive from one of her million errands she assigned you, her brain would run so wild. She'd make up a murder and torture plan for a made up attacker in the made up scenario in which someone attempted to hurt you.

She cared about you so deeply, she'd get lost in thoughts of how you would treat her in your first date toguether, would you like to stay inside or go to a fancy restaurant or something of the sorts? She had never considered spending time away from the public eye, the idea of a movie night seemed new and exciting for her. God, how would you treat her in other situations?.. she'd... hate to admit to wondering how you would treat her in bed, but it made up all of her late night fantasizing. You made her so vulnerable. Damn yo- oh shit. She might have just stabbed through the model she was fitting clothing to with a pin. God damn it, that silk was SO expensive. Maybe she should stop daydreaming at work. She can't stop.)

You slowly did warm up to her. The, however delusional impending relationship velvette made up in her brain coming closer to reality. And as a consequence, velvette finally could show you all of the built up affection stored from all of the days where she pretended you were just another desperate model begging for her attention.

Seeing you happy made her feel so good. Giving you things just to see the shocked expression eventually morph into gratitude. It made her heart beat unbearably fast, especially if you kissed her cheek after she gifted you something she thought matched you. If you two were in public, she would get a white knuckled grip on whatever she's holding, trying to look away from you in her embarrassment, she'd throw insults at whatever unfortunate worker was closest to the both of you to distract herself from how she lost her footing after you leaned in to kiss her.

It came as a shocker to her when you confessed first, but she was nothing short of over the moon. Touching the stars, even. Probably higher than heaven, at this point. Her reaction to your confession would hilariously contrast with the night in which she made up her silly plan of ignoring you. You explained that you didn't want to be with a fabricated persona of velvette trying to charm her way into your life. You wanted to be with the velvette. The real one. The velvette, who, after you said that, had grabbed onto the collar of your newly gifted, particularly well crafted top and kissed you until she couldn't bare with the lack of oxygen.

Will vomit my thoughts about fucking her at you later. If it is available, I'd like to be 🫶 anon. Love your writing‼️‼️

Oh my god I got this a while ago and i’m cleaning out my inbox and i guess I apparently forgot to post this???

and like how because it’s so good i’m OBSESSSEDDDDDD LIKE I CANT BELIEVE I DIDNT POST THIS HELP 🙏🙏

Please vomit your thoughts about fucking her I swear it’s not to late i’m begging you

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Could I request a reader who has an espathra. Espathra is from Reader's grandma who used to be a model and singer. Espathra is walks like a diva but is an absolute sweetheart. Reader joined the academy as a student and told the trio (Arven, Nemona and Penny) the reason why I joined the academy was because I never liked those private schools as I was always bored and hated dealing with the others as the students tend to annoy reader or be mean.

Arven

Tbh when he first saw your Espathra strutting down the streets of Mesagoza, he rolled his eyes.

He's well aware of how sassy and aggressive wild ones can be, but he assumes that even those tamed by trainers aren't any different (and sometimes a Pokémon's personality can rub off on them, too).

Once he gets to really know you both, though, he quickly realizes how friendly your Espathra is around people--even Mabosstiff.

Ofc they're still sassy, although they don't have a single mean bone in their body and don't try to reach across the table to steal his sandwich ingredients.

During lunch, you share how they once belonged to your grandma--who used to be a famous model and singer until she retired, deciding to leave her treasured partner in your care.

Arven never watched much TV growing up, so he never saw her performances. He just shrugs and says "that's kinda cool, little buddy."

But he grows concerned when a random kid intrudes on your picnic, asking about your grandma and wanting to pet the Espathra.

Suddenly the psychic type makes them shut up by immobilizing them on the spot....as he sits there wondering why tf you allowed them to do that.

You explain that's exactly why you transferred schools--specifically from a private one in another region to the Academy here in Paldea.

The students there kept bugging you, asking for your grandma's autograph and getting angry when you refused to take something they wanted her to sign or deliver fan mail as though you're some messenger Noctowl.

In short, they only ever talked to you if they wanted to contact her...and that made you feel quite bored and lonely, never gaining any real friends.

Luckily, Arven was already your friend long before he knew any of this.

He can definitely empathize with people constantly bothering him because of his connection to his "famous" parents.

Nemona

Not only has she obsessively watched the gym leaders' battles on TV, she also followed each of their social media accounts for years.

And on Tulip's page, she discovers that both her and your grandma did a collab for a new makeup brand inspired by their Espathras.

At the time, she didn't know you at all, but after hearing your last name and seeing your main partner Pokémon--she pulls you aside after class, eyes sparkling.

"So [y/n]..you're related to THE-?"

"Yes." You brush her hand off your shoulder, already knowing where this was going. "If you want an autograph, go to her retirement home and ask for her. I'm not your messenger."

You storm off, your Espathra giving Nemona a soft apologetic look, before they follow you, hair swishing gracefully.

However being the stubborn girl that she is....she eventually catches up to you, huffing and puffing and apologizing endlessly.

All she wanted was a simple battle with your Espathra (she almost called it your grandma's Espathra but quickly corrected herself--something you appreciated her doing).

It takes you by surprise, but you listen to her wishes and end up defeating her final Pokémon with a brilliant Lumina Crash that lit up the night sky.

After the battle's won, you explain that her attitude when you first met reminded you of the kids who bothered you back at your old school--which became the reason you transferred to Paldea to begin with.

You found her annoying.

Now? She was slightly less annoying since she genuinely wanted to befriend you, and not because you're related to a retired celebrity.

Penny

Team Star's had their fair share of feisty Flittles invading their outposts, always having to chase them out or risk being attacked just for gathering berries for their Pokémon.

Arceus forbid an outbreak of Flittle ever happened...

Because of that, Penny's always been skeptical around that evolution line, convinced that most Espathras are hostile.

The ones down in Area Zero's caverns especially made her nervous.

However, yours is a special case as they showed no aggression towards her, Arven, or Nemona.

You really owe it all to your grandma, mentioning how your Espathra used to be her partner in concerts and modeling for magazines.

They enjoyed being by her side and were content with retiring to Paldea after she ended her career on a high note.

She always talked about how they've adored singing since they were a little Flittle, and that they inspired her to keep going whenever she felt overwhelmed by the paparazzi and self-doubt.

How you wish you had her confidence at the private school you used to attend...but it became too much to handle after so many kids annoyed you simply because you're related to her.

You begged to be transferred out of there--for your sanity and for Espathra's, too.

After telling Penny all these stories, she definitely sees a different side to the Flittle line now, realizing that maybe not all of them are aggressive sassy berry thieves.

But when a grunt comes over (only overhearing that you're related to somebody they used to watch on TV all the time), Espathra just immobilizes them on the spot.

It frightens Penny, but the ostrich just smiles calmly at her.

You laugh and pet their beak, reassuring her it's nothing to be scared of--that kid simply won't remember ever asking you for your grandma's autograph.

From there on, she sends a message to all of Team Star not to make the same mistake that grunt did.

[kvtie444]

°•★ SOLO .4

a/n: this took so long omds, i luv this song Summary: reader moves to LA for work and becomes the sturniolos editor, but what happens when she falls for someone unexplected… Warnings: mentions of drinking, swearing, suggestive?

・₊✧⋆⭒˚｡⋆

His words echo relentlessly in my mind.

"What, have you never been fucked senseless before?".

I toss and turn in my bed, desperate to find sleep, but my shameless thoughts make it nearly impossible.

"Well, if you wanna cum so hard you can't walk the next day, you know where to find me."

I groan and reach for my phone, checking the date and time: Friday, 4:18 am. The reminder of the car video I still needed to edit for today weighs heavily on my mind. I groan again, sinking back against my pillows, but as I close my eyes, vivid daydreams of Chris kissing down my body flood my mind. I try to push them away, reminding myself that he's practically my boss. I groan once more and turn over, attempting to banish the tempting thoughts.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

Alone at the dining table, I stare blankly at my laptop screen, feeling the weight of the looming deadline for the car video. Nick had invited me over to make food and chill, providing a change of scenery from the unproductive comfort of my own bed. As he heads off for a shower, I'm left grappling with the hour-long footage I need to edit down for the video scheduled to go up in an hour.

But the task feels insurmountable. I doubt my ability to get the video out on time, and the guilt gnaws at me. One job, and I'm struggling to meet the deadline. I groan, running my hand over my face, pulling at the loose hairs that cover it. Exhaustion clouds my mind, sapping my motivation and focus. The pressure mounts swiftly, and I feel tears welling up against my palms as the overwhelming thoughts consume me. To make things worse, I could hear Chris and some girl he brought over downstairs.

As the door creaks open, I look up to see Matt entering the room, his expression filled with concern once he sees me. “Hey, hey, what’s going on” He walks over to me, his steps measured and gentle. With a comforting hand on my shoulder, he squeezes it reassuringly, his touch a balm to my frayed nerves. Tears threaten to spill from my eyes as I struggle to articulate my overwhelming emotions.

"I don’t know if this video will be ready on time, and it’s my only job, yet I messed it up," I manage to choke out, my voice trembling with suppressed sobs. Matt hushes me with a gentle shush, his hand rubbing soothingly up and down my arm. He murmurs words of reassurance, “You’re okay, everything okay, don’t worry about it”.

In that moment, I realize how fortunate I am to have Matt as a friend. His kindness and genuine concern envelop me, offering solace in the midst of my turmoil. I can't help but feel undeserving of his unwavering support.

My attention shifts to the stairs as I hear the sound of footsteps dragging themselves up them. Chris appears, clad in a black fresh love tracksuit, accompanied by some Instagram model wearing nothing but an oversized t-shirt, she walks to the fridge. Our eyes meet briefly through my bloodshot gaze, and I follow his movements as he leans against the counter.

“What’s up with you?” he mumbles, distractedly taking out his phone. Matt's glare intensifies, his jaw visibly clenched in annoyance. “It’s nothing, she’s fine,” he interjects on my behalf. I lower my gaze back to my keyboard, exhaling heavily.

As I focus on my editing, a flicker of movement catches my attention from the periphery of my vision. The girl leans in close to Chris, her lips brushing against his ear as she whispers something indistinct, punctuated by a playful giggle. With a dismissive gesture, she walks away, her hips swaying enticingly. I grit my teeth in frustration, seething at Chris's blatant disregard for boundaries.

Chris, true to form, can't resist one final display of arrogance, delivering a sharp slap to the girl's ass as she departs. I roll my eyes at his juvenile antics, feeling a surge of irritation and jealousy wash over me.

Left alone with Matt and Chris, I attempt to refocus on my editing task, but Chris's immaturity proves to be a persistent distraction. He reaches over and grabs the screen of my laptop, dragging it back to sneak a peek at my progress. I suppress a sigh at his lack of respect for my workspace. I grab the screen back and pull back to its original position.

“You on your period or something?”

The room hangs heavy with the weight of his words, a dense fog of tension settling over us as silence reigns. My gaze rises to meet his, finding his eyes hooded, a smug grin tugging at the corners of his lips.

"Can you go back to fucking your little girlfriend and leave me the fuck alone?" I retort sharply, the words dripping with venom as they escape my lips. Matt's reaction is palpable, his jaw visibly dropping in astonishment at the exchange unfolding before him.

A shift occurs in Chris's demeanor, a subtle transformation that darkens the intensity of his gaze. He leans in closer, his hands pressing down on the by the sides of my laptop, effectively trapping me in his presence. "Why? You jealous princess?" he taunts, his voice laced with arrogance.

I meet his gaze head-on, refusing to back down, and let out a scoff of disbelief. "Didn't seem so against it when we all went out for dinner," He continues. The realization of what he’s just said hits me like a ton of bricks, and I feel a flush of embarrassment creeping up my neck.

"Fuck off," I mutter under my breath, breaking eye contact in a desperate attempt to deflect from the uncomfortable truth. His chuckle washes over me, his breath warm against my skin as he leans in closer, his teasing tone only serving to fuel my simmering anger.

"Don't speak to your boss like that," he teases, the words sending a surge of frustration coursing through me. My jaw clenches with determination, a silent vow forming in my mind as I refuse to allow him to undermine me any further.

"Chris, fuck off, you can’t say shit," Matt's voice cuts through the tension, gaining attention from all of us. They lock eyes for a fleeting moment before Chris releases a chuckle and retreats to his room.

I exhale a breath I didn't even realize I was holding as Matt rises from his seat and begins rummaging through his pantry, likely in search of a snack. Was this job really worth this much stress? Chris was hanging over me like a dark cloud adds another layer of stress I certainly didn't need. Did I even want to continue working under these circumstances?

Before I can entertain the thought further, a muffled sound interrupts our uneasy silence, causing both Matt and me to freeze in place. We exchange a glance, our expressions mirroring a mix of confusion. The sound repeats, growing louder and more distinct with each passing moment. It's unmistakably a moan.

My eyes squeeze shut in frustration and disbelief. Fucking Chris.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

It had been a day since the whole kitchen incident, and while I managed to get the video uploaded only five minutes late, the lingering tension still weighed on my mind. As I walked home with my coffee in hand, a sudden ring in my pocket caught my attention. Pulling out my phone, I saw that it was Laura calling. My stomach churned slightly with anxiety. What if Chris had said something petty about me that could jeopardize my job? I bit the inside of my cheek nervously before answering.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Y/N! I'm in a rush right now, but I wanted to let you know that at the end of the month, I've booked tickets for Hawaii for you, Madi, and the boys. Obviously, this is a great opportunity for the boys to do some sort of vlog, but you deserve a trip like this," Laura's voice came through the phone, her excitement palpable. I couldn't help but smile at the thought of a trip to Hawaii, but the smile faded as the reality of potentially spending time with Chris sank in.

"Yeah, that's amazing! Thank you! I'll definitely be there," I replied, masking my hesitation with forced enthusiasm.

・₊✧⋆⭒˚｡⋆

tag list !!

@iloveneilperry @bernardenjoyer @daddyslilchickenfingers @mbbsgf @sturnvilmed @s1urnioloslvr @mattsbratt @mangoposts @christinarowie332 @recklesssturniolo @bluesturniolo333 @flowerxbunnie @kenzieiskoolaid @pepsiskiess @poopydroopt @byechristopher @solarsturniolo @m6ttsturniolo @lustfulslxt @stardustmf444 @thankyounextt @glossyfx @bellasturniolo @justurniolos @cl0esblogg @strumbolisworld @strniolosworld @chrisloyalgf @aliyahsbody @spideylovin @justangelheree @sturnioloenthusiast @nickmillersn1gf @soursturniolo@bernardenjoyer@stuniolobbg @luv4kozume@luvmxtt@urmommysbathroom@lexisecretaccx

[five-one-two-station]

Thinking about how good @arainydancer is, and how lucky the Signalis fandom is to have her. Every little gesture feels so organic, even with the fairly minimal low poly models, and the amount of story/feeling/movement is always *just* right to hit the mark every time.

Look at You Are My One Desire. There's so much going on, but it all makes sense together! It should be visually smashy and chaotic, but there's a thread of poetry to cohere every image. The gory violence wouldn't mean anything without the contrasting gentle intimacy; the gentle intimacy wouldn't be as convincing without the unapologetic sex (and they aren't at odds with each other). The unapologetic sex wouldn't mean anything without the gory violence and gentle intimacy. And doesn't that last shot bring all of it together at once brilliantly?

It's less than a minute long, and it delivers a bigger wallop than plenty of 2 hour movies!!!

And then on the other hand, you've got stuff like Anata Sonata, which on paper is pretty much just Elster playing a bit of halting, rudimentary index finger piano, in a nearly silent room, for the best part of that same 60 second minute. But because of how it's composed, because of the underlying mini-narrative and the confidence in telling it, and because of all the threads of subtext and implication involved, it's really a gorgeously crafted, sharply effective bit of tragic love story-ing, and it knocks the wind out of me every time.

But don't let me forget stuff like the one with Ariane "helping" with repairs. Isn't that just the sweetest goddamn thing you've ever seen in your life? Doesn't it feel exactly right for both characters, even though - in many ways - the game only lets us see them both as their own ghosts? Doesn't the casual, practical body language tell you all about their months, years, of undisturbed closeness? Doesn't it tell you everything about both these two very different people, and how they live life on the ship, and why they would fall in love? Didn't you giggle at the whole cute as hell scenario? 20 seconds! All of that in 20 seconds!

She has the range!!!

Anyway, just taking a moment to rave.

[moonystoes]

Safe Dance - Elisa De Almeida x international!reader

summary: this pretty much explains it all lol.

Warning: Sexual assault, old man being a creep, mentions of alcohol, not well written, slowww burn like it's pissing me off too im sorry, elisa being our protective queen.

a/n: i'm bringing this up again, i just started writing, especially fics as long as this (the last one -and the first- had only 500 words). So feedback and help is needed!! also sorry i got a little bored and wrote too many useless things lol.

w/c: 5.218k

You knew you needed to celebrate your high GPA after graduating from your bachelor degree at some point. But you've been putting it off, feeling like it's too much effort and energy for your introverted self. It's no secret French people are distant towards foreigners, it's been something known worldwide (which is ironic since a big part of their population are people of color coming from different countries from Africa and Asia). But you ignored all the toxic things you heard about France when you unexpectedly got a scholarship into the University of Paris.

Now, four years later, you are still alone. You have made friends in some projects, but right when the project is over, your friendship ends as well. Your mom has messaged you a long paragraph on how proud she is of you, but the loneliness is still wearing you down. You knew you probably looked silly walking down the street, wearing a short V-neck dress with high heels obviously to party, but there is a permanent frown on your face.

When you looked up from your phone, you didn't even need to look for the club. You can feel the music vibrate the ground and there is a huge line at the entrance. You turned off your phone and waited in line, wanting to just drink all day and celebrate by then. You checked on your friend (an international student like you) who promised that she'll be here, but your message was left on delivered for 2 hours. 

After 15 minutes of scrolling through your Instagram and 3 missed calls to Liz, it was your turn to show the security your ID. His dark eye bags showed you that he was too exhausted to care, so he took less than a second to glance at your card before returning it to you, and opening the door for you in a frustrated way.

You walked in awkwardly, couples grinding and dancing around you, you felt disgusted - and secretly jealous. The club was dark and had red LED lights, it was filled with large posters of icons and models from the 70s, and of course the playboy magazines of women wearing lingerie. It looked good enough for you to settle down on the bar stool and immediately order a light drink. 

While you were sitting there to decide whether you should dance or wait for Liz (you were honestly frustrated at her for ditching you with no explanation), the bartender passed a large drink towards you. You glanced at him with a confused look, “oh sorry, I didn't order this.”

“Yeah I know, it's the man there.” He pointed to the table on your left, to an older man with thin white hair. Your jaw dropped when you looked at him, realizing that he caught you staring.

“Umm… that old man?” You tried your hardest to whisper over the thudding music, trying not to let the creep that is sitting just 2 meters away from you hear what you said. The bartender nodded and walked away to the other side of the bar, making you sigh in annoyance that he didn't bother to even help you out. You slowly pushed the light pink drink away from you, it smelled strong which showed his true intentions, getting you drunk.

You pulled out your phone and texted Liz a quick message, “Liz a man is being weird where are you ☹️☹️?” You scrolled through your gallery to pretend you are doing something and distract yourself from the man on your left, until you are tapped on the shoulder. You froze, quickly turning off your phone as you took a deep breath, pretending that you didn't feel it.

“May I know why you didn't accept the drink, it was really expensive.” you flinched when you felt his breath hit your neck, no way this is happening today. Where the fuck is Liz? You turned around slowly, trying to act calm and collected, “sorry, I didn't want to drink today, I'm just here for someone.”

“I don't see anyone here,” he mockingly glanced around the bar to see the ‘person’ you were waiting for. “I saw you drink just a few minutes ago.”

You closed your eyes for a second and took a deep breath. You glanced at his striking blue eyes and felt your hands starting to shake, you looked away back to the drink he ordered for you and grasped it, taking a small sip just to taste what it is. You knew you were fucked, Liz isn't here and she's probably not going to come, the bartender couldn't give a shit, and this man won't leave you alone. Why was he at a bar on a Wednesday night? Doesn't he have some office job to do tomorrow or is he too old that he's retired now.

The drink tasted sour and tangy, but had a strawberry flavor. The burning of your throat made you cough and your eyes shutting close, it was definitely alcoholic, very alcoholic. You rested the drink on the table and faked-smiled and awkwardly nodded, but your smile disappeared when his hand clutched your arm and pulled you forward, “why don't you dance with me, huh? Wearing this dress for nothing must be a shame.” 

You panicked and took a quick scan of your surroundings to see who could help. On the bar table to your left, there were other older men, possibly friends of the weirdo that's now bruising your arm. On the large leather sofas that were placed on the other corner, there was a couple?...a throple? A man was sitting comfortably on it as he crossed his legs on the mini table in front of him, two girls were sprawled over him, one playing with his hair and the other playing with his shirt while she chugs from a beer can…yeah they will be too busy to help.

You took a quick turn to the VIP entrance, seeing a short girl with a Gucci bag waiting to be let in… rich spoiled people are too busy to look around. You swore you never cared about religion until then, when the man tugged you to his chest, your eyes slowly closing as you were holding your tears praying to God to let you out of this misery.

You felt his hands being placed on your hips, as he forcefully tugged your back towards his groin. He pushed you to the crowded area so people can't see your discomfort in your face. 

But before he does more than this, a large hand tugged you away from the man, making the man behind you exhale loudly. “Anna! I'm sorry for making you wait, hey let's go…umm do you know him?” you've never heard such a soft yet deep voice like this. Before you even had the chance to look at who grabbed you, her right arm tugged you into her chest, trying to hide you from the stranger. “No, I don't.” You whispered, afraid of making the situation even bigger.

“Seriously? you were waiting for this…” His angry voice and arm pointing at the both of you made you anxiously stare at him. He looked at the woman hugging you up and down with disgust before muttering a ‘nevermind’ and stomping off.

You shakingly held tightly into her, staring at the spot the man was at. “Are you okay?” She let out a soft whisper from above your head. You were shaken at the whole encounter, blocking off what she said until you felt soft taps on your shoulder, making you look up at her.

This was the first opportunity you had to actually see who saved you from this, and she was gorgeous. She had sunglasses placed on the collar of her dress shirt with two of the buttons opened. Why was she even wearing a dress shirt at a club? When you looked up to her face (because she's 5 '9 and the first thing you saw was her tan skin), her hair was short, swooped to the side. Her cheekbones were sharp and her eyes were furrowed worriedly. You quickly separated from her and took two steps away.

“Hey, it's okay.” She took a step forward, opening her hands around her face to show you she doesn't want to hurt you, “are you waiting for someone?”

You looked away from her eyes, the smell of alcohol and sweat is making it difficult for you to think straight -literally. You looked at your phone, finding a new notification, “oh thank God she responded!” You relaxed, until you pressed on it.

“Hey baby!! It's your favorite uncle 😉, just saw your post about graduating. Congratulations! I miss you so much. Maybe one day we can all reunite when you graduate your masters 💪keep working hard!”

You inhaled deeply, turning off your phone and throwing it in your mini purse. You looked at the woman, she looked at you with raised brows waiting for an explanation for your reaction. You rested your hand on your forehead and frustratedly groaned out, “no she fucking ignored my messages.”

Her face turned sour as she looked behind you, probably to the place where the old men were sitting, giving you the chance to look at her face once again. You blushed at her clenched sharp jaw, slight pink cheeks, and the soft lips. When you looked back at her eyes, she was already looking at you.

You internally wanted to kill yourself for looking at her lips, because she definitely caught that. You looked away to her arms, doing everything in your power to not look at her face again. But then you realized glancing at her arms will make the situation even worse. Her arms were athletic and the sleeves were tight around her biceps. How is she this hot?

“You can stay with me, my friends are here.” She softly grasped your hand, pulling you away from the crowded dance floor. “It's fine, I'll just go home.”

“No, come on! It's a secluded area, no one will bother us.” She encouraged you, her hand still in yours. You looked down at your heels, you felt like shit. This whole time at the bar was for you and Liz to celebrate your day and you end up being a charity case for a hot woman. You don't even know why you chose the club, you hated partying anyways. You bit into your lip, one single line going through your head:

I deserve to celebrate my achievements no matter with who. I'm the one who worked hard for this, I need this.

“Okay just… Please don't do this because you feel bad for what happened.” her eyes softened, intertwining your fingers with hers and whispering a soft ‘never’. You felt embarrassed as she was dragging you around the bar to the place her friends are staying at, you didn't want to see anyone’s face so you just looked down at your intertwined hands and hoped you won't collide with anyone. Your hand looked small compared to her large ones as she held into you, feeling her rough skin tightly around yours.

When you realized she stopped, you looked up to where she took you. “Oh no… I'm not going there,” You frowned at her, “VIP? I heard it's expensive here.” You felt guilty that she might spend money on a spot for you, but you were curious on how she makes enough money to be here.

“Don't worry, my work has paid for the night here, I didn’t spend a euro on me or anyone.” She smiled at you, finding it cute how you were worried about her money. She let go of your hand and opened the door slowly, signaling her hand to follow her.

You stood still for a few seconds, feeling exhausted and tired. And unfortunately, you felt gross. You looked down at your dress, remembering what the old man said. It was your favorite, it may not look fancy but you've loved it and waited for a moment to wear it, now you can't even glance at it without feeling down. You glanced at the woman, she had already taken a few steps until she realized you weren't following her, “Do you want to go home? I can order you an Uber?”

This was your chance to actually get to know someone, you've been alone all this time in Paris and Liz was an American student. The woman in front of you seemed like the first French woman that actually tried to befriend you, and she's attractive. Her face softened as she took a few steps towards you again, understanding your silence. “My name is Elisa, what's yours?”

“Y/n.” You didn't know what to do after this so you reached out your hand to handshake her, internally cringing from how awkward you are…no wonder why your love life is as low as your mood today. She giggled and grasped your hand, shaking it aggressively. You looked at her with a confused face and she just winked quickly, “so… y/n why are you here at the club on a Wednesday night?”

“I just graduated so I wanted to celebrate.” You were staring at your held hands, feeling awkward when looking at anyone's eyes, especially élisa's. But when you felt her hand immediately let go of yours and wipe it off with her dress pants, you looked at her face slightly hurt. Her eyes are slightly widened, which made you realize why she let go of your hand, “bachelor degree in physical therapy.”

“Ohh! That's so nice. You know at my job we need a lot of physiotherapists, I like them.” Her body physically relaxed, making you laugh at her panic. The poor woman thought you were some high school student, but you didn't blame her, you never made it clear when you spoke about it.

“Cool… what do you work as?” You asked, a smile appearing in your face. You didn't realize that by a small comment, Elise made your feelings better just as she planned. She let out an open smile when she noticed yours, feeling proud of herself for making you feel better.

“Guess.” 

Your smile wiped off your face, “no please I don't like doing this game just say it.”

She laughed, “I'll give you a hint, I wear number 5.”

It took a moment for you to answer because you froze when you heard her laugh, making a stupid grin plaster into your face, “...football?” You dragged the word as you questioned, worried it might be wrong. She nodded with a proud smile.

“Wow, that's so cool I do watch football!... not the women, I don't know where to watch…sorry.”

She laughed, stepping closer and resting her left arm around your shoulder, encouraging you to walk through the dark maroon hallway with her. “It's okay, we're used to it.”

When you looked up from this angle, your attraction worsened. Her side profile was perfect. It took a moment for you to recover from it, “ehm…some girls in my class wanted to be football physios so they could work with Szoboszlai.” You muttered, obviously not knowing what to say. You didn't know if you should wrap your right hand around her waist or just keep it awkwardly limping between the both of you.

She glanced at you and laughed, “and you? Is that what you wanted?”. You looked away, deciding to focus on the dark walnut wood corridor in front of you instead of her eyes. “I don't really like men.”

“Ha! Me too.” Her left arm tapped your shoulder to the beat of the music. Elisa was glad that you weren't into men; she felt like it's finally her time where she can get attention from a woman that isn't a fangirl. She pulled you inside a room, filled with people singing and jumping around.

You felt sick all over again, not knowing Elisa had this many friends. You remembered her speaking about her work paying for this, are all of these people her teammates? The room was built almost like a sunken living room, the leather couches were placed into the ground around the walls with stairs in the side, and two small tables placed in two opposite corners that were filled with drinks and purses. Elisa felt your body turn rigid, she leaned in close to your ear and whispered gently, “They're all nice, I promise.” You turned to look at her, you didn't understand why but you felt at ease around her, maybe because of what she did earlier, but you took a deep breath and calmed down.

She pointed at an empty seat next to a blonde woman, “hey Jackie, this is y/n, she's a physiotherapy graduate.” Jackie turned to look at you and elisa, she smiled brightly and raised her hand to signal you to sit with her. You let out a tight-lipped smile and approached the table to sit. You noticed Jackie looking at your attire and glancing at Elisa with a confused look, but before she said a thing, Elisa interrupted her by saying she needed to go to the bathroom.

Well shit, now you have to do this alone. You stared at Elisa as she was walking out, secretly checking her out and also praying that she’ll come back soon. “Umm… do you work here?”

You turned to look at Jackie, “oh, no. I'm just here to party.”

“Ohh…I thought you were one of the dancers offered here.” She looked at her whiskey and took a sip, clearly not seeing the shock in your face.

You froze as you gave her a confused glance, “oh. You thought I was a stripper?” You glanced down at your dress… It's a short dress, yes, but a dancer? You had no disrespect for them, just felt a little confused. Does Elisa call dancers for a lap dance? Is this where she went to?

“Oh not your dress! It's just that Elisa never spoke about bringing someone here so I assumed. Also, you're really pretty.” She gave you a wink with her compliment.

You gave her a soft smile with a shy ‘thanks’. “Elisa isn't really into those things, that’s why I was kind of confused.” She nudged your arm when you glanced at the exit again, realizing that you were waiting for Elisa. After hearing what Jackie said, you relaxed into your seat and looked at your surroundings.

Everyone seemed drunk except one, her thick black hair was tied in a high ponytail, too engrossed with her phone to really notice anyone. The other players were dancing, some were singing loudly to some song by Aya, an icon in french music from what you noticed in the past four years living here. “May I ask how you know elisa?” Jackie asked.

“Oh we just met here so…” you shrugged, you didn't feel like telling anyone what actually happened. Jackie nodded, taking her purse into her lap and pulling things out, trying to find something in it. After a while of scrolling on tiktok and looking at the girls partying, Elisa came back in, immediately settling down next to you. You looked at her with a smile, glad that she's back, but your smile was wiped off when you saw her frustrated and sweaty state. When she noticed the worry in your eyes she leaned in closer to you, “Do you like this club?”

You were caught off guard from this question and nodded slowly, “good because I want you to come back here,” You were confused, obviously you'll never come here. It doesn't matter how nice and fancy this place is, after that weirdo, you'll never step foot here. “I kicked him out, he's banned from coming here again.”

“Wa- wait what?” You gasped, looking at the door she came back from, expecting to see him standing there. But he wasn't, and even from the small glass window on the door, you can see that his spot is now empty, as well as his friends’.

“I want you to feel safe celebrating your achievements, I know today has probably been shit.” You bit your lip, turning to look at Jackie playing with her now found camera. You couldn't look at Elisa's eyes or else you would cry. You felt her hand softly caress your shoulder, bringing your body closer to hers. “Thank you, I mean… I don't even know what else to say.”

She gave you a gentle smile and turned to look at her teammates singing karaoke now. “No problem, now do you want to sing and dance with them? Or just sit here?”

“I'll just sit here, you can have fun with them.”

She looked back at you, deciding to lean back into the coach and find a comfortable position. “I play for Paris Saint Germain.”

“What! No way…I feel like shit for not watching you play.” You gasped, psg is the biggest team in France. And that's probably because they are loaded with money and can afford the top players, but you wondered how powerful the women's team is.

She laughed, quickly shaking her head, “don't feel that way! I just wanted to tell you. We just got qualified for the quarterfinals of the champions league that's why they're all drunk and shit.” She tilted her head towards a player dancing on the table. You bit your lip trying not to laugh at the poor woman, but when you heard Elisa's cackle, you let out a little laugh.

“Quarterfinals to the champions league… that's great! That's so cool, honestly, you should go and dance with them!” You pushed her towards the women, but she didn't even budge. She winked at you when she saw you try to move her and held your arm down, “Are you actually trying to push me or are you playing around?”

You knew she was joking, she can tell your struggling face when you tried to push her. You glanced at the way she grabbed your forearm, feeling the blush coming around your cheeks. Her muscles tensed beneath her fitted black shirt, elisa has been trying to subtly send you hints without panicking too much. But she knew she needed to do something even more, so she let her hand slowly go from your forearm to your hand, intertwining your fingers with hers. A shy smile broke out in both of your faces, looking up to see her already smiling at you. “Okay…maybe I do want to dance a little.”

You bite your lip and give her a soft nod, indicating that you wanted to dance with her. She grinned brightly and stood up from the couch, delicately pulling you with her. You felt content for the first time, you're finally going to dance and party like how you wanted before you came here in the first place. Elisa pulled you into her body, looking at your eyes to see if you're okay with her wrapping her arms around your waist. You felt speechless so you just nodded and dragged your hands from her forearms all the way to her shoulders, blushing at the feeling of her rough muscles.

Because you were busy trying to mask your flustered state, you didn't notice the panic Elisa was in. Her tightly wrapped hands were shaking and it seemed like she couldn't even glance at your face for three seconds without finding something else to look at. The girls had stopped singing karaoke now, the speaker playing some french afrobeats. “I forgot to tell you, I'm shit at dancing. I was planning on getting too drunk to care.” You admitted with a laugh, elisa tightened her hands around your waist, making your chest flush with hers. “Oh wait until you see me dance.” 

“You do realize this song isn’t for slow dancing?” You loved the feeling of her body against yours, but the idea of slow dancing to afrobeats in front of people is confusing you. “Shhh don’t ruin the moment now.” she joked, turning her head around the room, she looked back at you and said, “They’re all too drunk to care.”

You looked around the room, and fortunately she was right. The girls were all dancing, separated into multiple groups and only focusing on them. Even the sober one had stood up and was dancing with the rest. You rested your head on her shoulder, feeling like it doesn’t matter at this point what happens between you. Elisa will probably forget about you, and date an instagram model like every football player does -well… that’s what the male players do at least.

“You tired?” her velvety voice soothed you as she leaned her head on yours. You closed your eyes and hummed in response, not feeling like moving your body. You tried to excuse the exhaustion as the sickness from the old man, but throughout the semester, you have been sleeping 4 hours and only working and studying. And today has been the day you can finally rest.

Elisa moved her hands from your waist to wrap them around your shoulders instead. As much as she was worried about the possible rejection from you, she felt great about you being okay with her physical touches and wanted to enjoy the chance. She can feel your beating heart from the thin dress you’re wearing against her sternum. Elisa’s long fingers were playing with the hem of the dress from your neck, her body slowly rocking as if she’s putting a baby to sleep.

“Thank you,” You whispered, opening your eyes just to see her jaw. “For today. I may not seem happy, but I am really grateful for this, I’m happy.”

“Do you want to go home?”

You stayed silent for a few seconds, before letting out a short breathy laugh, “Is it obvious I don’t like to party?” You didn’t want to offend her, especially after what she did.

“I can call an uber for you, or I can drive you home if you don’t feel safe.” You almost wanted to cry at how thoughtful she is, but you knew you needed some alone time after all of this. Also, the thought of parting ways with Elisa and her completely forgetting about you is eating you alive.

“Thank you, but I’ll feel very guilty if I take you away from the party you should be celebrating.” You let go of the tight embrace you were in, looking at her eyes to let her know how much you meant it. She sighed and nodded with a small hidden frown in her face. Elisa felt like a child attached to a toy, she was worried to let you go and never find you again. Now that she kicked the assaulters out, she hoped you’d come to the club more often.

“Okay, I’ll walk you out.” She held your hand and walked you out of the VIP entrance. The smell of sweat and alcohol hit you in the face, the club is even busier now since it was around 10 at night. Elisa pulled you to her body, putting her arm around your shoulder protectively in case someone does a thing to you. Once you reached the closest exit, she pushed the heavy door and let you go out.

“Ehm… Can I have your phone number?” Elisa suddenly blurted, she wasn’t ready to say goodbye, so she said the lamest thing she thought, “Just to make sure you went home safe…you never know what can happen.”

When Elisa asked that question, your heart started beating faster, your worry about losing her is now out of your head, feeling glad that she wanted to contact you. But after her explanation, you sighed in disappointment, she’s probably not interested in you, she wants to know if you went home safe only.

“Yeah, okay.” You opened your hand, waiting for her to hand you her phone. She pulled out her phone from her front pocket, and passed it to you quickly. Her palms were sweaty from anxiousness, and she hoped her sweat wasn’t all over the phone. She knew she fucked up, she could’ve told you the truth but instead she acted like some sick teenager, and it made her even more annoyed with herself when she saw the excitement in your face disappear like fog. She wanted you to know she’s interested in you. You typed your phone number quickly, before giving it back to her with a tight smile.

“Bye-Bye,” You stepped back, still facing her. “Again, thank you for today.” You gave her a small wave, and then turned and walked your way back home. She was invading your thoughts, her face, her smile, her deep yet delicate voice, her body, and the fact that she’s a professional player that can get anyone she wants.

Once you reached home, you looked at your phone notifications, there were none. 0 from Liz, and 0 from Elisa. You cussed yourself, why would she even bother to text you? She is the hottest woman you’ve ever seen, you probably look like charity work next to her exes. You boiled water for instant noodles, feeling too low to even worry about making dinner. After eating the soggy cheap noodles, you turned on the bathtub faucet and added some oils to calm you down and distract you from Elisa. You contemplated on searching up her name and see what google says about her, but you forced yourself to not even look up a picture of her. She clearly doesn’t care about you, why would you care about her?

After the 30 minute depressing bath, you plopped into the bed, not bothering to put the blanket over you. You suddenly heard a notification ding from your phone. Closing your eyes tightly, you swore that if it's Liz you'll run to her house barefoot to yell at her. When you heard another ding, you opened your eyes slowly and reached out for your bedside table.

[Unknown number]

I'm sorry

I was acting like a kid around u I wanted to ask you out but I got too shy

Can I take you to dinner one day?

You bit into your lip harshly, trying so hard to suppress your blush. You thought about it for a second, you weren't mad because she couldn't ask you out in front of you. You couldn't do it either, and you were also flattered to the thought of her being too shy in front of you. It felt as though she was the confident one there. It didn't matter anyways, what mattered is that you wanted to be hers. And if this date is the first step, you'll take it.

[You]

Okay

Only if I can go and watch you play on the quarterfinals

[Elisa ⚽️]

Really??

YES OF COURSE

Only with my jersey 😉

You turned off your phone and banged your head into the pillow, grabbing your phone again to send her a quick message.

[You]

Of course

I'm going to sleep rn

Good night 💞

[Elisa ⚽️]

Good night 😴

You turned off your phone and closed your eyes, immediately sleeping from the exhaustion of the day.

[Elisa⚽️]

The dress looked perfect on you.

[rthko]

i'm not a gaylor, couldn't care less about that woman, but ngl that thread got me thinking. do you think it would be fair to posit that classic pop fandom presumes heterosexuality from the female stars it consumes? the figure of the diva specifically feels very straight woman centered, the only exception i can think of being maybe lady gaga. well i guess everything presumes heterosexuality from everyone, but it does feel slightly different in this case imo

I think it's a fair observation. A lot of gay men, starting in childhood, strongly identify with women in media. As kids without known queer friends or role models, who knew we didn't relate to most other boys, we often thought of ourselves as more similar to girls. I obviously can't say this is universal among gay men but it's common enough that, for example, I can talk about how badly I wanted to be Anne Hathaway with a group of like minded gays and no one will find it unusual. Others will even chime in with the women they wanted to be! And I think this sort of identification often comes down to identification with women as desiring agents (making it easier to express attraction to men) and as siblings in abjection. Like, the boys are mean to you? Us too. Let's play house at recess about it.

I make it sound very adolescent, and that's where it seems to start, but it's also because there's no guarantee it will turn into any sophisticated friendship or political affiliation with women. I think diva worship, fag/hag relations, and anything similar are morally neutral. It can speak to genuine interest and support, or it can be a patronizing charade that refuses to relate to women beyond an expected shared attraction to men. I can't say that diva worship is any one thing because it can come from a place of genuine respect for a woman's artistry and be a symbolic outlet of gender expression or a parasocial mess.

Lady Gaga is herself an interesting example because yes, she is bisexual, but that doesn't really come up in her diva treatment. But the example of Taylor Swift, as discussed in the thread you're mentioning, is also unusual. The accusation, for the unacquainted, is that gay men aren't sympathetic to "Gaylor" because they want her to be straight so they can give her the diva treatment. But, and I mean no offense by this, that's not really the reason most people like her. Everything about her public image is too personal and "relatable" for her to fit that larger-than-life mold. Clearly that works for her, clearly that has yielded results, but personally I find her most interesting when she knows she's delivering a fantasy. If this seems like a superficial way of viewing art, I would counter that treating an artist as a detached patron saint of glamour and obsessing over every detail of their personal life are two sides of the same parasocial coin.

I think the ideas that are really in conflict in the "Gaylor" vs "Hetlor" debate (and for the love of God come up with a more tasteful name for the latter) is not really whether Taylor Swift is queer or straight. I'm sure you'll agree that not being onboard with Gaylor does not mean someone has a specific investment in her heterosexuality, because most of us don't really care. The conflict is between two different ways of relating to art. Rather, it's about relating versus resonating. Even if Taylor Swift is gay, hardly anything about her life, as might be explained by her wikipedia page, is relatable. But maybe one resonates with the pressures of having to please everyone, to the dehumanization of men's "Madonna-whore" complex towards women, to heartbreak, to dancing it all away. And maybe one specifically relates from a queer perspective. Go for it! It's unfortunate that Creep by Radiohead has a bad reputation, because I and a lot of other queer people find it really resonant. I don't get crushes on straight guys like I used to, but when I did it was humiliating! It wasn't the prospect of their rejection that hurt, but the idea of being repulsive and looking in from the outside at a world you will never belong to. It speaks to a queer perspective, but I don't have to wonder if this was intentional or if Thom Yorke himself is gay to see it.

I think, memes aside, the Internet is excessively cruel to Swifties. Even with Gaylors, I feel for their need to identify with an artist they feel feel expresses an underrepresented point of view. No, James Somerton, a handful of children's cartoons does not prove that lesbians are winning the representation war. But I also want to say to them that, a perceived lack of representation aside, no one is forcing you to speculate about this woman's sexuality. If she is just as straight as she claims to be, that doesn't have to ruin your queer readings of her work. If a straight woman sang the words "you can want who you want; boys and boys and girls and girls," and it came from the heart, good for her.

This was all very characteristically meandering of me and only kind of answered your question. I agree that a lot of gay men's interest in women is stunted by the expectation that they could only bond over shared attraction to men. I think gay men owe queer women the world. I also just don't really think this applies to the Gaylor thing. She is, as far as anyone knows and as far as she herself has stated, a heterosexual woman. That said, I do agree that the lesbian diva is an under-explored archetype that I'd love to learn more about.

[marlynnofmany]

Loud Darkness

“Before you go,” said Captain Sunlight, stopping us at the open door. “The client sent a last-minute warning.”

“Oh boy.” I gripped the small delivery package a little tighter, braced for bad news.

Zhee was less tactful. “Those are never good,” he said, waving a pincher arm about. The package he was carrying was strapped to his bug-alien back, so his pinchers were free to gesture with. “Is this a hazard that they should have mentioned up front? Something we might have charged extra for?”

“Possibly. Hopefully not.” Captain Sunlight didn’t have eyebrows exactly, but her scaly browridges were frowning anyway. “If anything seems hazardous and you feel like you should return to the ship, please do. The client hasn’t answered any of my messages for further details. All we know is that this continent has something called ‘screamers,’ which come out at sunset, and are dangerously loud. The warning was not to get close to them if you can help it.”

“Screamers,” I repeated. “And they didn’t think to explain that a little?”

Zhee waved his pinchers some more, hissing in irritation. I stepped aside so I didn’t get whacked in the head. Captain Sunlight didn’t bother, since she was too short to be in range.

“No, they didn’t explain it,” Captain Sunlight said. “And there isn’t a settlement nearby to ask, other than this little camp site or whatever it is. I didn’t ask why the client is out here, but I got the impression they’re on some science mission. I could be wrong. They could be just enjoying nature, or on the run from their own planet’s law enforcement. Who knows.” She sighed, looking out the door at the alien forest. “It’s not our business, until it is. Try not to get hurt while delivering the shipment.”

“Should we bring anything for protection?” I asked, pulling the flashlight from my pocket. “This isn’t going to do much good if the things bite when they feel threatened. Or is it just an eardrum risk?”

While Zhee muttered “eardrum” like someone with alien ears who was encountering the term for the first time, Captain Sunlight shook her head. “The warning just said not to get close, because they’re loud. It didn’t sound like a physical danger. And it’s only around sunset. Unfortunately.”

“Sunset!” Zhee exclaimed. “Of course! The exact time the client wanted to meet us! They really could have mentioned this screaming before now.”

I peered out the door to see how dense the trees were. As promised, there was a path made of flat rocks, but the plantlife loomed over it. Shadows were already dark among them. “And they really couldn’t meet us out here?”

“They paid extra for the delivery away from the landing pad, at least,” Captain Sunlight said. “They were specific about the location as well as the time. You’d better be going.”

Zhee stepped onto the ramp. “What a delightful trip this will be. If anything screams at me, it had better be prepared to face my blades.” He brandished his pinchers as he stalked down onto the landing pad.

“Thanks for the warning,” I said to the captain, then followed.

“Be careful. Kavlae will be waiting at the comms in case you need to call for any reason.”

“Got it.” I waved goodbye and caught up with Zhee while the ramp retracted behind us. With our boxes ready and our wits about us, we followed the path into the darkening woods.

I’d thought I wouldn’t need my flashlight until the walk back, but it was worryingly dark under those trees. I lit up the ground and shifted the box to one arm, glad that I had the smaller case. Zhee had a different model of light strapped to his hip. He poked it with a pincher-tip, and it lit the way nicely, with no further pincher action required. He waved them threateningly instead.

I passed my own light over the bushes, searching for threats, while the ground remained bright enough not to trip. Of the two of us, I was the only one who needed to worry about that. I made sure to keep an eye out for troublesome rocks that could lead to injury, embarrassment, and damage to the package. (Mostly embarrassment. Zhee had strong opinions about the evolutionary wisdom of multiple legs.)

Despite all the lovely things we had to think about, the walk was pretty boring. Shadowy alien trees, too dark to see many interesting details. Rocks on the ground. An impressively straight pathway. No animals moving around that we could detect.

But something had started making noise. A faint one at first, far ahead of us, a kind of vague static that was hard to pin down. I looked at Zhee to see if he’d heard it. His expression was hard to read.

It got louder as we walked, and I could almost make out distinct sounds among the overall wash of noise. Chattering? Short screeches? I didn’t like it. And it didn’t help that things were very dark now, with only the occasional glimpse of colorful sunset through the trees.

“What do you think it is?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” Zhee said in annoyance. “But it is offensive.”

Not the word I’d been expecting. “Like it offends your sense of hearing, or offends you on a personal level?”

Zhee snapped his pinchers. “It sounds like skreeking. Very badly done, by misbehaving children.”

“Sk—? Oh, that leg-music you guys do. Right.” I hadn’t heard Zhee himself perform any traditional Mesmer tunes, but the whole ship had heard Trrili’s efforts. They were, well … Yeah okay, they were horrible. At least as far as my human ears were concerned. And now that I thought about it, I could kind of pick out individual threads of sound that seemed insectlike.

While I was thinking all that, Zhee complained heartily. “It is clearly not actual children, misbehaving or otherwise, but it has the poor taste to sound like it is, when it could sound like anything else. Like it’s trying to be as aggravating as possible.”

“Reminds me of a parrot I used to know,” I said, shining the flashlight around for any sign of the noisemakers. “He could have sounded like anything too, but his favorite noise to make was the sound of someone chewing with their mouth open.”

“Yes yes, I’ve heard of those creatures from your world,” Zhee said. “Freakish specimens.”

“It’s not just the one type of bird that can do that,” I told him. “There are a bunch of mimics. Mockingbirds, lyrebirds, starlings, even ravens — and that’s just the birds!”

“Yes yes. Fascinating.” He didn’t sound like he cared, but it was a distraction from the increasing volume of the whatever-they-were, so I continued.

“There are other animals that can make a couple humanlike sounds too. Like goats; the little ones are called kids because they sound like our own little ones sometimes. And a few of the adults can scream like a human, which is both startling and funny.”

“I’m sure.”

“Oh, and mountain lions too. They’ve been known to sound like adult humans, baby humans, and little chirping birds. Rumor says they’ve used that as a way to lure in prey more than a few times over the eons.”

Zhee tilted his head toward me at that sharp praying-mantis angle. “Impressive,” was all he said.

“That’s one word for it.”

“But this is not impressive. This I hate. We’d better be there soon.”

“I think it’s getting brighter up there.” I aimed my light to the side, squinting as if that would do any good. It did seem less shadowy, but more like the trees opened up, not like anyone had technology running.

Zhee walked faster. I walked faster. The mysterious screamers screamed louder. It was an oppressive drone now, vibrating the air on all sides like I was near the speakers at a concert. A really bad concert. Where the singers were bugs.

“It sounds kind of like cicadas!” I said, raising my voice enough to be heard. “They only come out every seventeen years where I’m from. It’s quite an experience. Once a generation, the summer is full of bugs that scream, mate, and die all over the place.”

Zhee gave me another sharp look. “And how does human culture regard this skreeking-like orchestra? I imagine early societies worshipped or feared them.”

I shrugged, adjusting my grip on the box. “Probably? Sorry to say most people consider them an annoyance now. Kind of interesting scientifically, but obnoxious to clean off your car. Oh, and they’re edible. But not if you’re allergic to seafood.”

The expression on his face now was a complicated dance of antennae and mandibles, which I chose to interpret as vaguely horrified.

But before he could come up with an answer, a voice called out from the clearing ahead.

“Hello hello! Are you the delivery people?”

I aimed my flashlight, hoping to light up feet instead of a face. Never good to blind the client. “Yes, we have your packages!” I could just make out a two-legged shape, and judging by the shape of the head, I was pretty sure she was a Frillian with large head fins.

“Great! Set them right over here! I’ve got my ID somewhere.” She dashed off into the droning darkness, making sounds of rummaging around that I could barely hear.

When we reached the clearing, we found a very thin Frillian wearing clothes with pockets everywhere, head fins just as large as they’d seemed, and the exuberant attitude of a scientist who’s getting to study something they’ve waited for.

“Thanks! Right there, yes. I suppose I could stand to turn on a light or two, but that might scare them away. Sign here? Got it. There you go. Thanks so much! I can’t wait to see how these work.”

Zhee and I stepped politely back while the client tore open the smallest box, where it was set on a table covered in miscellaneous equipment. She pulled out something that looked kind of like a medical scanner. It lit up with red light and some beeps that might have been piercing under other circumstances.

“Oh, it even comes charged! Excellent! Now show me what you’ve got…” She ran over to a bush and passed the scanner slowly through the air, for all the world like she was diagnosing the plant with something terminal.

The scanner probably beeped, but I couldn’t hear it from here. She ran back in excitement and opened the other box.

Those I did recognize: a surprising number of gravity wands, of a high-precision model. I had a theory what she was going to use them for.

Zhee did too. “Will you be catching the screamers, then?” he asked. “Studying how they make their obnoxious sound? Perhaps ready to teach them to make a better one?”

“Oh no,” she laughed. “Screamers are delicious. I have so many people waiting to buy them back home, but only as long as I get the ones that have already finished with egg-laying! Sustainable, you know?” She brandished the scanner. “This way I can be sure, and catch them while they’re fresh!”

I gave my most tactful customer service nod, not looking at Zhee. “You’ve got it all thought out.”

“Yep! I don’t really need this many wands, but they were the best deal in bulk, and this way I don’t have to worry about keeping just one charged. Let’s see how they perform.” She dashed back over to the same bush, and after a moment with the scanner in one hand and the gravity wand in another, she made a happy little hop then ran over to show us.

Wriggling in the gravity field was something tiny with compound eyes and kicking legs. I didn’t look at Zhee, just nodded politely and congratulated her on her catch.

She thanked us again and hurried over to the table where something that looked like a portable stasis box waited. The sunset was fading into pure dark, but the droning calls of the screamers were as loud as ever. She flicked on a red light and muttered happily about lanterns that didn’t make people’s eyes adjust. Then she waved at us and went back to work.

We walked back down the path. When we were a little ways away, I looked at Zhee. Yup, antennae angled into a frown.

“So,” I said. “A lot like cicadas, then.”

“If you decide you want to eat the screamers, I don’t want to know about it.”

“Nah, they creep me out too. But don’t tell my old college friend I said that; she was always trying to get me to be a more adventurous eater with exotic foods. I don’t know where she got half of that stuff.”

“And I don’t want to know what kind of foods an omnivore would find exotic.”

I smiled through the loud darkness. “You sure? Most of ‘em are meat; they probably wouldn’t be that strange to you.”

“Such as?”

“Well, there was the fermented shark—”

“Nope,” he declared. “No rotten sea creatures, thanks. Today is vile enough already.”

“Yeah, that one was pretty extreme,” I admitted. “Just opening a can of the stuff could clear a room in three seconds flat.”

Zhee pointed a pincher at me. “If you ever bring any of that onto the ship, you will spend the entire voyage living in the airlock.”

I smiled. “Noted!”

“No disgusting things on the ship,” Zhee grumbled.

I shined my light on the bushes as we walked. “I wonder if these are safe for cats. Telly would have a great time chasing one.”

“No.”

“You’re right; we wouldn’t want it getting stuck in the engine or something.”

“Also that. Just a general ‘no’ for you.”

“Party pooper.”

And then we discussed human idioms, and the anecdote my parents had told me about a diaper incident when I was an infant, and it kept us distracted from the sound of the screamers all the way to the ship.

~~~

These are the ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book.

Shared early on Patreon! There’s even a free tier to get them on the same day as the rest of the world.

The sequel novel is in progress (and will include characters from these stories. I hadn’t thought all of them up when I wrote the first book, but they’re too much fun to leave out of the second).