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neferaskingdom · 7 months ago

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♡ Vegas Baby | MV1

NEFERASKINGDOM

Summary: After winning his fourth world championship, Max Verstappen stuns the world with a live radio proposal.

A/N: This was inspired by this post by @altxanna idea so good it made me get over my writer's block and write this 4.2k monstrosity.

MAX VERSTAPPEN MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST

Max Verstappen crossed the finish line in fifth place, but that didn’t matter. The entire world was fixated on the fact that he had just won his fourth World Championship.

“AND MAX VERSTAPPEN DOES IT AGAIN! FOUR WORLD TITLES!” David Croft shouted, his voice teetering on the edge of hysteria. The Las Vegas skyline lit up like a fireworks display on overdrive, the crowd roaring in approval.

“Forget where he finished—he’s a four-time world champion!” Martin Brundle yelled, equally excited. “This is history!”

Max, however, barely seemed to notice he’d crossed the line in fifth. He was just… Max. Calm. Collected. His voice came through the radio, steady as always, but with a hint of amusement.

“Thanks, guys. It’s been an incredible season. I’m so proud of the team. Huge thanks to GP, Christian, everyone.”

“You’ve done it, Max! Four-time champion, man!” GP screamed, clearly unable to keep the excitement in. “This is massive, mate! You’ve earned this!”

“Yeah, I know,” Max said, his voice deadpan. “But listen, there’s one more thing.”

The radio went quiet for a second.

“Uh… What’s that, Max?” GP asked, his tone suddenly cautious.

Max didn’t respond right away. Then, he casually dropped the bomb.

“Y/n, a bet’s a bet. We’re getting married tonight.”

“WHAT?!” GP exploded. “WHAT THE HELL DID YOU JUST SAY?”

Max’s tone didn’t change. “We’re getting married. Vegas chapel. Tonight.”

The entire Red Bull garage froze. Even the other engineers looked around in total confusion.

Max continued, his voice as if he were discussing the weather. “It’s been planned. I won the fourth title, she agreed to the bet, so… wedding time.”

GP sputtered. “Max, you—WHAT? No, no, no. You can’t just say that on the radio! You can’t just—”

“I’m doing it,” Max said, already tired of the conversation. “It’s happening. Vegas. Tonight.”

The radio was dead silent for a long moment, then GP finally spoke, his voice laced with a mixture of disbelief and dread. “Max, I—What in the world did I just hear? Are you seriously making your wedding announcement over the team radio?”

“Of course, I’m serious,” Max replied. “She said if I won my fourth title in Vegas, I could pick the wedding date. So, I picked tonight.”

“Max, you can’t—you—what the hell is wrong with you?!” GP spluttered.

Back in the commentary booth, David Croft could barely hold it together. “Did Max Verstappen just announce his wedding on live radio after winning his fourth world championship? Is that what I just heard?!”

“I think that’s exactly what you heard, Crofty,” Martin Brundle said, voice dripping with astonishment. “This is pure, unfiltered Verstappen.”

David Crofty just stared at the screen, blinking in disbelief. “Honestly, I can’t even process this. We’ve seen some wild moments in F1, but this... this might just take the cake.”

“Yeah,” Brundle said with a chuckle. “You can’t script this stuff. Not even in Vegas.”

Meanwhile, in Red Bull’s hospitality area, Y/n was standing stock-still, her eyes wide as she stared at the screen. The radio call still blaring in her ears.

“Did—did he just announce our wedding? Like… right now?!” she hissed, her hand gripping the counter in disbelief.

A Red Bull mechanic standing nearby looked just as stunned. “Uh, I think he did, yeah.”

“He’s lost it,” one engineer muttered under his breath, his face pale.

“I don’t even know what’s happening anymore,” another whispered.

The others weren’t any better off, most of them looking like they might faint. A PR rep came over, trying to maintain professionalism but clearly in shock. “Y/n, um… Max just… did he just announce your wedding?”

“Don’t look at me,” Y/n groaned, burying her face in her hands. “I can’t even… He’s the worst.”

“Vegas, baby!” another joked, only to get smacked in the arm by Y/n as she stormed past.

Back on the track, Max, utterly relaxed, parked his car in parc fermé and stepped out, throwing his helmet in the air before catching it like it was no big deal.

“So, yeah,” Max said, grinning at the cameras. “Got my fourth title, and now I get to marry my girl. Vegas chapel, let’s go!”

The reporters and photographers surrounding him stared at him in utter confusion.

“Wait, what? You’re—what?!” one reporter stammered.

Max smirked. “Yep, Vegas. I won, she lost, and now we’re getting married.”

He tossed a thumbs-up to the camera as if it were a completely normal thing to say.

“Max,” one reporter finally managed, “you’re serious about this, right? You’re really getting married in Vegas?”

Max’s grin widened. “I’m serious. A bet’s a bet. No turning back.”

Back in the Red Bull garage, chaos had officially set in. Christian Horner, who had been pacing for the last five minutes, finally stopped and glared at a nearby mechanic. “What am I supposed to do with this now?!”

“I don’t know, Christian,” the mechanic said, holding up his hands in defeat. “Maybe we start picking out flowers?”

“Someone get me a drink,” Christian muttered, walking off, leaving a sea of confusion behind him.

Y/n stormed through the paddock like a woman possessed, her face a mix of disbelief, panic, and barely contained rage.

She spotted Max leaning casually against a barrier in parc fermé, looking like he had no care in the world—despite having just announced their impending Vegas wedding to the entire world. He was surrounded by Lewis, Fernando, George, and Carlos, who were all still there congratulating him and clearly trying to comprehend what had just happened.

“MAX!” Y/n screeched as she closed the distance.

Max turned, his smug grin stretching even wider. “Oh, there she is! The future Mrs. Verstappen. Took you long enough.”

Y/n planted herself directly in front of him, glaring. “WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?”

Max blinked, his expression far too innocent. “What? I kept my promise.”

“Your promise?” Y/n echoed, incredulous. “You hijacked the championship celebration to announce a fake wedding! On LIVE TELEVISION!”

“It’s not fake,” Max said matter-of-factly. “A bet is a bet.”

Carlos, standing nearby, raised an eyebrow. “Wait, wait, wait. You bet your wedding on the championship?”

“Of course,” Max said with a shrug, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I’m a man of my word.”

George choked on air. “You’re a menace.”

“Exactly,” Y/n said, throwing her hands in the air. “Max, this is insane! You can’t just—”

“Relax, schatje,” Max interrupted, his tone annoyingly casual. “It’s Vegas. This is what people do here.”

“Not normal people!” Y/n snapped.

Lewis, still dabbing at his face with a towel, gave a bewildered laugh. “I’m sorry, are we actually talking about a real wedding right now?”

“Yes,” Max said confidently. “Tonight.”

“No,” Y/n shot back.

“Yes.”

“MAX!”

“Yes, Y/n,” Max said, leaning forward slightly. “We are getting married tonight, and that’s final.”

“Final?!” she spluttered. “How is this final? There’s no plan, no venue, no—”

“Vegas has plenty of chapels,” Max interrupted smoothly.

“I don’t have a dress!”

“You’ll look great in anything,” Max countered.

Y/n groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I don’t even have someone to walk me down the aisle!”

Max tilted his head, clearly unbothered. “Oh, that’s easy.” He turned to his left, where Lewis stood mid-sip from his water bottle. “Lewis! Can you walk Y/n down the aisle tonight?”

Lewis froze, the bottle halfway to his mouth. “What?”

“Can you walk her down the aisle?” Max repeated, as if this were a completely reasonable request.

“I—” Lewis blinked, looking between Max and Y/n. “Uh… sure?”

“What?! No!” Y/n shouted.

“Why me?” Lewis asked, baffled.

Max shrugged. “You’re a world champion. She deserves someone of high status.”

Before Y/n could combust, Fernando Alonso stepped forward, a sly grin on his face. “Hold on,” he said, raising a hand. “If anyone is walking her down the aisle, it should be me. I’m the most appropriate for the role.”

Lewis turned to him, visibly confused. “How do you figure that?”

Fernando gave a dramatic shrug. “Experience. I’m wiser, more distinguished. A father figure, if you will.”

Y/n groaned, “Oh my God, Fernando—”

Lewis snorted. “Father figure? Please. More like grandfather figure.”

The group exploded into laughter. George doubled over, wheezing, while Carlos clapped a hand over his mouth to stifle his own cackles.

“You wound me, Hamilton,” Fernando said, his tone mock-offended.

“Yeah, but I’m not wrong,” Lewis quipped, smirking.

“This is not happening,” Y/n muttered, covering her face with her hands.

Max leaned closer to her, his grin pure mischief. “See? Problem solved. You have two excellent candidates to walk you down the aisle.”

“This is NOT solved!” Y/n screeched.

George finally spoke up, still chuckling. “You know, for the record, this is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever seen”

“Agreed,” Carlos said, shaking his head with a grin. “But I can’t look away.”

Max clapped his hands together. “Alright, then. We’re all set! Lewis or Fernando—it’s Y/n’s choice.”

“I CHOOSE NEITHER!” she yelled, clearly on the verge of a breakdown.

Max leaned back, entirely unfazed. “Suit yourself. But one way or another, schatje, we’re getting married tonight.”

Y/n turned to the other drivers, her eyes pleading. “Can someone PLEASE talk some sense into him?”

Lewis shrugged. “I don’t know, Y/n. He seems pretty set on it. You might just have to roll with it.”

Fernando smirked. “And let me know when you decide. I’ll be practicing my ‘giving away the bride’ speech.”

George buried his face in his hands again, mumbling, “This is a fever dream.”

Y/n, meanwhile, was contemplating her life choices as Max grinned at her, utterly pleased with himself. This was going to be a nightmare—and she was the star attraction.

Suddenly, Lando came sprinting out of nowhere, practically skidding to a stop in front of Max. His curls were a chaotic mess, and his face was split into an ear-to-ear grin that made him look like an overexcited puppy.

“MAX!” Lando yelled, throwing his arms up. “FOUR-TIME WORLD CHAMPION! YOU LEGEND! Also mate, what the hell?! Are you really getting married?!”

Max turned, his ever-present grin widening. “Obviously.”

“I thought it was just a rumor!” Lando said, flinging his helmet onto a nearby table. “I mean, come on, you say insane stuff on the radio all the time! I figured this was one of those things.”

“Nope.” Max popped the “p” for emphasis. “It’s happening. Tonight.”

Y/n, who had been pacing nearby in a futile attempt to process her life choices, groaned audibly. “I hate all of you. All of you.”

Lando glanced at her, then back at Max. “Wait, so this is real? Like… actually real?”

“As real as it gets,” Max replied, clapping Lando on the shoulder. “And since you’re here…”

Lando squinted. “Since I’m here, what?”

Max’s grin turned sly, his hand still on Lando’s shoulder. “How do you feel about being my best man tonight?”

Lando froze, his mouth opening and closing like a goldfish. “Wait, what?”

“You heard me,” Max said, still looking far too pleased with himself.

“Me?!” Lando gestured wildly at himself, his voice rising an octave. “Why me?!”

“Why not you?” Max countered smoothly.

“I don’t know!” Lando threw up his hands. “You could ask your trainer, your engineer—anyone! We’ve been rivals this entire year!”

Max tilted his head, his expression softening slightly. “Exactly. We’ve had a lot of ups and downs this year, yeah? Fighting for the championship and everything. But at the end of the day…” He paused, his grin shifting to something more genuine. “You’re a good friend, Lando. One of the best. And I’d like us to bury the hatchet. Tonight.”

The sudden sincerity hit Lando like a truck. His eyes widened, his lip quivering just a little as he stared at Max. “Max…”

The group went quiet—well, as quiet as it could be with the chaos of the paddock swirling around them. Even Y/n stopped pacing to stare, her eyebrows raised in surprise.

“You really mean that?” Lando asked, his voice thick with emotion.

“Of course,” Max said, giving Lando a firm pat on the back. “You’ve been there through all of it, mate. Who else would I want standing next to me tonight?”

Lando’s hand flew to his face, his bottom lip wobbling. “Oh my God. I think I’m gonna cry.”

“Don’t cry,” George mumbled, clearly trying to stifle a laugh. “This is ridiculous enough already.”

“Shut up, George!” Lando snapped, though it lacked any real venom. He sniffled, blinking rapidly. “Max, you big idiot. That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

Max smirked. “Well, don’t get used to it.”

Y/n, watching this entire exchange with her arms crossed, muttered under her breath, “I cannot believe this is my life right now.”

Carlos, standing nearby, leaned over to George and whispered, “Do you think Lando will actually cry at the altar?”

“Oh, 100%,” George replied without hesitation.

“I’M NOT CRYING!” Lando shouted, wiping furiously at his eyes.

“Sure, mate,” Carlos said, grinning.

“Shut up!” Lando whirled back to Max, pointing a slightly wobbly finger at him. “Fine! I’ll do it. I’ll be your best man. But only because that was the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

“Good.” Max nodded approvingly. “We’re gonna have a great time. Bring tissues, though. You’ll need them.”

Lando groaned. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re emotional,” Max teased, clapping him on the back again.

“Can I leave now?” Y/n interjected, looking thoroughly exasperated.

“Nope,” Max said cheerfully. “We’ve still got wedding planning to do. And Lando needs to rehearse his speech.”

“Speech?!” Lando exclaimed, his face paling. “No one said anything about a speech!”

“Oh, come on,” Carlos said, grinning. “Just wing it.”

“This is a nightmare,” Y/n muttered.

“See, schatje?” Max said, turning to her with a mischievous smile. “Everything’s settled”

“Kill me now,” she groaned, dragging her hands down her face.

“Not before the wedding,” Max quipped. “I need my bride alive, schatje.”

Carlos, grinning, nudged George. “Do you think she’ll kill him before they even make it to the altar?”

“I actually might” Y/n snapped, making everyone laugh—except her.

Max clapped his hands together, cutting through the lingering laughter. “Alright, boys, fun’s over. See you after the podium, yeah?”

Carlos snorted, throwing an arm around George. “Come on, hombre. Let’s get out of here before they decide to do something crazier.”

Max turned to Carlos, his grin turning devious. “Speaking of you, Carlos, I need another groomsman. What do you say?”

Carlos blinked, clearly caught off guard. “Me? Really?”

“Obviously,” Max said, rolling his eyes. “You’re good at standing around looking pretty. Perfect for the job.”

“I’m honored,” Carlos said, puffing out his chest dramatically.

Y/n, standing a few feet away, raised her hand. “Dibs on George for my side, then.”

George’s eyebrows shot up. “Wait, what?”

“I called dibs,” Y/n said firmly, crossing her arms.

“That’s not how this works!” Max exclaimed, glaring at her.

“It is now,” she shot back, grinning.

Max groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “You are impossible.”

“You’re marrying me,” she said sweetly. “This is your problem now.”

Before Max could argue further, he grabbed her hand, tugging her away from the group. “We need to pick more people. Properly.”

As they walked through the paddock, Max started listing names under his breath. “Alright, I want Charles on my side.”

“No way,” Y/n said immediately.

Max frowned. “Why not?”

“Because I’m picking him,” Y/n declared, speeding up her pace as soon as she spotted Charles standing by his car.

Max groaned. “You can’t just steal all the good ones!”

“Watch me.”

By the time they reached Charles, Y/n was already stepping in front of Max, her grin wicked. “Charles! You’re going to be my maid of honor.”

Charles looked up, his face blank with confusion. “Wait, what?”

Max shoved Y/n aside, scowling. “Ignore her, Charles. You’re going to be one of my groomsmen.”

“No, he’s not!” Y/n snapped, stepping back in front of Max.

“Yes, he is!” Max shot back, sidestepping her.

Charles blinked between them, his brows furrowing. “What is happening right now?”

“You’re gonna help me with my wedding,” Y/n said, grinning like she’d just won the lottery. “It’s happening tonight.”

Charles just stared at her, still not sure if he was in a dream or being pranked. “Uh… are you serious?”

“Charles, listen to me,” Y/n said, grabbing his hands dramatically. “I need you on my side. You’re the only one who understands how insane Max is.”

Max pulled her back by the shoulder. “He does not understand that! He’s my friend, not yours.”

Charles raised a hand. “Guys, what—”

“Do you really want to stand next to Max?” Y/n asked, cutting him off.

Max glared at her. “Do you really want to be stuck with her?”

“I feel like I don’t want to be stuck with either of you,” Charles said cautiously, his confusion growing.

“Charles,” Y/n pleaded, gripping his arm. “Please. You’ll get to wear something cool”

Charles blinked, still completely befuddled. “I… I don’t know what’s happening. Am I even invited to this wedding? Because you’re asking me to do a lot without any context.”

“Don’t listen to her!” Max interjected, gesturing wildly. “You’ll have more fun on my side. I’ll let you hold the rings.”

“No we’re letting Yuki hold the rings!” Y/n shouted.

Charles blinked again, looking between them like they’d both lost their minds. “Are you two seriously fighting over me right now?”

“Yes!” they yelled in unison.

Charles sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “This is the weirdest thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“Say yes to me, Charles,” Y/n said, batting her eyelashes.

“No, say yes to me,” Max countered, practically growling.

Charles threw his hands up. “Fine! I’ll be on Y/n’s side. But only because she asked first.”

Y/n cheered, sticking her tongue out at Max. “Suck it!”

“I feel like I should be insulted,” Max muttered as Charles smirked at him.

The wedding was somehow happening. In the span of a few hours—thanks to an intense series of last-minute phone calls, frantic text messages, and a team of Red Bull employees being worked to the bone—the ceremony was set to begin. And despite the fact that no one really knew how they’d gotten here, the whole thing had turned into the weirdest Formula 1 event in history.

Y/n stood in the back, adjusting her dress, eyeing the people around her in disbelief. Max had somehow managed to throw together an entire wedding in record time, which was somehow both impressive and terrifying. She was walking down the aisle with Lewis and Fernando—two of the most iconic figures in F1. She couldn’t decide between them, so she’d invited both to walk her down the aisle. Because, why not?

“You sure you’re okay with this?” Lewis asked, smoothing out his jacket. His suit was impeccable, of course. He was an icon of style, so a last-minute wedding wasn’t going to stop him from looking good.

“I’m just trying to survive this,” Y/n muttered

“We’re in Vegas. Anything goes,” Fernando quipped, the slightest hint of a smile on his lips. “At least the wedding's got personality."

“You both know I’ll never live this down, right?” Y/n said, shaking her head. "This whole thing is so Max, I feel like I should apologize to everyone for being part of it."

“You’ll be fine,” Fernando added with a smile, adjusting his cufflinks. “It’s Max. You know he doesn’t do anything half-heartedly. He’s probably already planned the honeymoon.”

Y/n laughed nervously. “I’m pretty sure he has. You’ve both seen what happens when Max gets an idea in his head. And somehow... this is actually happening.”

“You’ve got this,” Lewis said. “We’re here for you.”

Before Y/n could respond, the doors swung open, signaling that it was time. The aisle was a bit too short for a proper procession, and the whole thing had a sense of hurried chaos as they started walking down toward the altar.

At the front, Max stood there waiting, looking like he was about to burst with excitement. His best man, Lando, had been fighting tears all night and was now sniffling into a tissue. "I swear this is the happiest day of my life," Lando muttered to Carlos, wiping his eyes.

Carlos, looking slightly concerned, just shook his head. “It’s their wedding Lando, not even your own. stop bawling.”

“Yeah, but it’s their wedding,” Lando said, eyes still damp. “There’s too much love in the air.”

Max had his hands tucked in his pockets, grinning like a kid on Christmas morning. When he spotted Y/n, he gave her an exaggerated wink, as if to say, “We made it.”

“You good?” Fernando asked, glancing at Y/n as they reached the front.

“I’m questioning every life choice I’ve made,” Y/n muttered under her breath, feeling the full weight of the absurdity of the situation.

“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that,” Max said, grinning.

At the back of the room, Oscar and Franco stood with baskets of flowers, both looking thoroughly confused in their roles as flower boys. Oscar had been dragged into this because of his unwillingness to protest. Franco, on the other hand, was too amused to care about the situation and just went along with it.

“Oscar, why are we doing this again?” Franco whispered, furrowing his brows as he sprinkled petals on the floor.

“Because Yuki said we had to. And I’m not arguing with him,” Oscar muttered, holding his basket as if it were a grenade about to go off.

“Who cares? It’s a once-in-a-lifetime experience! Attending Max Vertsappen’s wedding?,” Franco said with stars in his eyes, “I’ll tell my grandkids about this.”

Yuki, holding the rings, couldn’t contain his excitement as he gave them instructions. “Guys, you’re doing great. Just, uh, try not to look confused. I need this to look professional. Oscar throw the petals properly! more passion! more energy! more footwork!”

“I’m already questioning my entire existence,” Oscar said, looking at Franco for solidarity. Franco just smiled and threw a handful of petals into the air.

The Elvis officiating the wedding was already in full swing, not entirely sure of the gravity of the moment but having a blast nonetheless.

"Y’all ready to get hitched?" Elvis said, his voice more vibrant than Y/n could’ve imagined.

Max, barely containing his excitement, looked over at Y/n. “Ready for this, love?” he asked, his voice low, though it carried a hint of playfulness.

Y/n smiled, glancing at him for a moment. “More than ever.”

Then, in front of everyone, they exchanged their vows.

Max spoke first, his voice unwavering, but there was an undeniable tenderness in his words. “Y/n, you’ve turned my world upside down. You’ve made every race, every moment, better just by being there. I promise to keep being the person you’ve decided to stand at an altar with, the person you love—even when I’m an absolute nightmare. I’ll always fight for us, for this. I love you.”

Y/n could feel her heart in her throat as she spoke. “Max, you’ve always been… Max. But you’ve shown me that you are a person with the biggest heart. You’ve made me laugh, cry, and love harder than I thought I could. You’re my best friend, and I can’t wait for the next chapter of this crazy life with you. I love you.”

There were no grand gestures or over-the-top theatrics; instead, it was just them—raw, honest, and completely present in this moment.

Max smiled at her, the kind of smile that made everything feel right, before turning to the officiant.

“Elvis, hit me with that ‘you may kiss the bride’ line,” Max said, giving a wink.

And so, amidst the madness, they kissed, sealing their vows with a moment that felt right in all its simplicity. The crowd cheered, some clapping and others, like Lando, wiping away happy tears. It wasn’t the wedding anyone had expected, but it was exactly what Max and Y/n had needed.

As they pulled away, Y/n’s gaze met Max’s, and for a brief moment, it was just the two of them, everything else fading away.

As the ceremony ended and the newlyweds turned to leave, the crowd of friends and teammates erupted into applause, some of them still trying to process what had just happened.

Lando was grinning, wiping his eyes. “This is so perfect. I’m still not sure how we managed to get here in two hours, but it’s amazing.”

Charles was smiling too, giving Y/n a thumbs up. “Congrats, both of you. I’m still trying to wrap my head around the fact that Max is married now.”

Lewis patted Max on the back. “She’s got you now. Good luck with that.”

Y/n smiled at him, a little breathless. “So, are you planning to annoy me for the rest of our lives?”

Max grinned back, a playful gleam in his eyes. “Absolutely. You’ve signed up for it, so no turning back now.”

Everyone laughed, but there was a deep sincerity in the air. This was their moment—imperfect and hurried, but beautiful in its own way.

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melshifting · 4 months ago

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Relationship extras to script ─ ♡

↳ #01 ～ Your love languages bend for each other. Even if you weren’t one for words before, somehow they come easier when they’re for them. Even if they weren’t one for touch, their hands always find their way to you. It’s instinct, it’s natural.

↳ #02 ～ No matter how long it’s been, how many places you’ve seen, or how much the world has changed, the place where you had your first kiss always feels untouched by time, as if the very air remembers.

↳ #03 ～ Wherever you go, the world makes room for you. The last two seats in a sold-out restaurant, the perfect spot on an overcrowded beach, the free bench under the prettiest cherry blossom tree—places rearrange themselves as if they were always meant for you to take them.

↳ #04 ～ People around you begin to believe in things they didn't believe in before - in fate, soul mates, something greater than coincidence. Because the way you've found each other, the way you exist together, is impossible, but undeniable.

↳ #05 ～ There is no version of this life in which you don't meet. There is no timeline, no parallel existence, no alternate reality in which your souls do not end up colliding.

↳ #06 ～ You always pick things up at the same time. A funny smell? You look at each other before either of you can say it. A good song? Both of you hum the same part under your breath. It's as if your brains are tuned to the same frequency.

↳ #07 ～ No matter how long you’ve been together, they still catch themselves looking at you like they did the first time. They can’t believe they get to have this, to have you, to wake up to the kind of love people spend their whole lives searching for.

↳ #08 ～ Even the animals seem to understand your bond - their cat/dog always settles in between you on the couch, strays follow you a few more steps and even the birds seem to come closer when you sit together in the park.

↳ #09 ～ The first word they said to you - no matter how common - has a way of repeating in your life. An announcer randomly says it, a book you open falls on a page where it’s written - it always comes back to you (or vice versa).

↳ #10 ～ When you both stand near mirrors, your reflections always seem slightly closer than you actually are; as if even reality itself can’t separate you completely.

#shiftblr #reality shifting #shifters #shifting community #kpop shifting #shifttok #shifting diary #reality shifter #desired self #desired reality #bts shifting #shifting reality #shifting realities #shifting antis dni

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artfight · 28 days ago

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Important Announcement

A now-patched breach of security has occurred on Art Fight. To learn about this issue in full detail, please read the following newspost:

Below is a FAQ regarding the exploit. We highly recommend that you reset your password and enable 2FA if you have interacted with the site recently. If you need any assistance, please send a support email to the following address: [email protected]

The inbox will be opened shortly to respond to user questions and concerns. Anonymous will be turned off for the time being, please let us know if you prefer that your ask is answered privately.

How did this happen?

Our BBCode system had a vulnerability flaw in it that was temporarily exploited to attempt to gain user credentials, but it has since been patched.

What do we do?

If you believe you may have been affected, please change your password to something unique and secure. We also recommend keeping an eye out on your other accounts, and to change the passwords on them if they shared any credentials as your Art Fight account (so same email or same password).

How do we know if you were affected by this exploit?

If you accessed the comments of the most recent news post (Terms of Service Updates), there is a chance your browser was exposed to the XSS script, and we recommend resetting your password ASAP to be safe.

What are you doing to prevent this from happening again?

Our hard-working dev team has already patched this exploit, as well as added additional security measures to help prevent this from happening again in the future. We will also be proactively doing a security review to help locate any other security concerns. Two Factor Authentication (2FA) has been established as a feature on the site that can be found in your settings.

I'm nervous about going onto the site at all now! What if my account gets hacked/stolen/etc?

Art Fight's dev team has patched the vulnerability that this incident has revealed, and has added additional security to catch/stop malicious scripts before they can affect the userbase. All instances of the previous malicious script have been removed from the website, meaning that it is once again safe to view the last news post! We are working hard to continue to keep users safe, so you don't need to worry about accessing anything on the site. If you come across anything potentially concerning, please don't hesitate to forward it to a moderator - we're happy to look into it!

What information might've been taken from me?

The XSS attack attempted to collect autofilled Art Fight log in information--emails and passwords--from users. No other information (like birthdays) should have been collected through this script. If you use the same email/password combo, or same password anywhere else, we recommend changing to ensure your accounts stay secure.

#Art Fight #Artfight #Artfight2025 #Artfight 2025 #Info

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taikeero-lecoredier · 1 year ago

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STOP KOSA CALL IN DAY THE 16TH APRIL 2024

• There will be a hearing on Wednesday (17th April) where KOSA, along with some other bad internet bills, like the Protecting Kids on Social Media Act could be pushed.

• We will be having a calling day on TUESDAY (16 th April) to make clear to Congress that there is still a ton of opposition to these bills. https://energycommerce.house.gov/posts/chair-rodgers-and-ranking-member-pallone-announce-legislative-hearing-on-data-privacy-proposals-1 •We need to contact Congress and urge people to use this site for this https://www.stopkosa.com/

• House Energy and Commerce is holding the hearing so they are the best offices to call this week !! https://energycommerce.house.gov/representatives (the link doesnt work properly so you'll need to head to the site and select "Members" to find them)

• You can use http://badinternetbills.com/ to contact your congresspeople !

• And https://www.house.gov/representatives/find-your-representative to find all of the phone numbers of your House Representative ! •Don't forget to use faxzero.com to send up to 5 free faxes a day ! If you get a response talking about the changes made to the bills, please dont forget to point out it still makes it dangerous as explained here https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2024/02/dont-fall-latest-changes-dangerous-kids-online-safety-act Here are scripts you can use when contacting reps !

Please make sure to not mention how LGBT people will be affected by KOSA if your rep is republican, they don't care. Use freedom of speech instead like shown above !!! ^^^

Here is the Democrat version ! You may also tell your reps to support privacy legislations instead of the dangerous KOSA bill, as this will actually protect kids and anyone. Check my masterpost for more info And dont forget to join our discord server for the latest news and steps to take ! https://discord.com/invite/pwTSXZMxnH REBLOGS ENCOURAGED ! Making tweets, tiktoks, anything you want to spread awareness against KOSA is welcomed as well !!

#kosa #internet censorship #censorship #kids online safety act #tumblr #discord server #supreme court #us politics

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therealbabycher · 9 months ago

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⋅ ꒰ఎ 💸 ໒꒱ ⋅

You know something I am sick of seeing in the loa/shifting community is manifesters asking for permission to manifest a controversial change of self in their reality and I'm like.. have you forgotten who your imagination belongs to? Hoe are you seriously trying to let outsiders tell you what you can and can't change about your self in your imagination??

You could outwardly announce to be shifting to be a kpop gg but secretly be shifting as a different race, ethnicity, age, to get dicked down by 4 male idols and a ceo, hard core bdsm style, and actually you're RESPAWNING there and I genuinely couldn't care less. Just because @factualloashifter said they don't like that you scripted your face card is so offensively lethal that people go out of their way to buy you millions worth of gifts while looking for only a smile in return that and jungkook decided to join those 4 idols doesn't mean you have to change your desires lmao

Be who you are and OWN that shit. If you're a slut, BE a slut. And once your done be something else. You dont need to ask for approval from random loa/shift blogs for you to experience your desires. You dont need to tell anyone your business, nor do you need to elaborate on why you've decided to manifest very specific things. Your "I AM" belongs to no one but you. You change your "I AM" into whatever you like, on your own terms. So just do it. Manifest that thing bitch. It's already yours anyway🥱

⋅ ꒰ఎ 💸 ໒꒱ ⋅

#.𖥔 cher rambles ⋆.˚ ഒ #master manifestor #loablr #loa blog #shifting blog #shifting #law of assumption #desired reality #desired self #desired life

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lurinatftbn · 4 months ago

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VN adaption news!

Got a different sort of announcement than the usual chapter one (which I forgot until days later again…) this week! As many of you are already aware, a visual novel adaption of The Flower That Bloomed Nowhere has been tentatively in the works for a while. Since I don't really like keeping secrets for the broad-strokes details of something like this, I thought the time was ripe to do an informal 'announcement'. So here's that!

(Example of our current art and interface direction. Actual sprites and background used for this scene very much not final!)

Though honestly, there's not a lot to say. The project will be more or less a direct translation of the work into a new format, though with some… minor adjustments to the storyline, in the interests of keeping the mystery elements fresh and amending a few of the bugbears I've personally built up regarding the plotting over the years. The game will be built in Ren'py (predictably), and joining me in development will the very talented Zerovirus, who'll be handling the art, while Benedict (Cordyceps, Star Seeker in: the Secret of the Sorcerous Standoff) is helping with some of the programming. Contributing to the OST will also be Xeecee, creator of lesbian murder nun game Misericorde, with the remainder handled by myself. (At least assuming I don't flub it and end up resorting to stock music lmao)

(The character bio menu. Also WIP.)

While we're undecided on the release model, the tentative plan is to release a short free demo at some point this year. After that, we'll put out a series of further updates semi-episodically, playable through a one-time purchase on itch. This will continue until we have enough for what feels like a 'complete' release - probably 1/3rd-ish of the story? - at which point we'll put this on steam or something, then start the process over for the next segment.

…and that's it! Stay tuned for future updates. I'm obviously in the privileged position of already having a fair few fans of the work, so I'd love to get feedback from people on things like the script changes or the character designs, so we'll hopefully be showing tidbits off semi-frequently going forward. Thank you as always for reading!

#the flower that bloomed nowhere #vn development

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idkyetxoxo · 1 month ago

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Four | Falling Awake | Little Star

Pairing - Azriel x reader

Word count - 2.7k

Warnings - Domestic abuse, violence, faebane poisoning, angst!!

<- prev || series masterlist || next ->

This side of Velaris always made my skin crawl. Not because it was ugly—it wasn't.

No part of Velaris could ever be ugly in my eyes. Even the outskirts, where the city grew quiet and the buildings thinned into shadows, held a strange, desolate kind of beauty.

But that beauty felt hollow here, like it was only skin-deep. Painted on to hide the rot beneath.

I climbed the five narrow flights of stairs with my heart thudding a slow, sick rhythm in my chest. Each step felt heavier than the last, weighted with everything I hadn't yet said and everything I was finally going to.

Daeron's apartment door stood like a final test at the end of a warpath. I raised my fist and knocked once. Twice. Three times. Four. Five.

He opened it on the fifth knock with a rare, lazy smile adorning his sinisterly beautiful face.

Before I could speak, his arms wrapped around me and his lips found mine, soft, almost tender. But when I didn't kiss him back, he froze and pulled back.

His eyes narrowed just slightly, lips curling into something less sweet. Something corrupted.

"Still bitter?" he asked, voice light and flippant. He closed the door behind me with a careless flick of his wrist, then sauntered back into his apartment like nothing had changed.

Like he didn't already know I wasn't here for another night of pretending.

Another night of self-inflicted torture.

I picked my way through the chaos. Discarded shirts and empty bottles. The place reeked of stale smoke and soured dreams.

I sat opposite him on the fraying fabric armchair, the one with the tear in the cushion he never bothered to fix.

"We need to talk," I announced, though my voice barely passed as more than a whisper, low, raw, frayed at the edges like torn fabric.

I flexed my fingers in my lap, palms damp, nails digging into my own skin as if pain could keep me tethered to something real, something that wouldn't collapse the moment I spoke the truth aloud.

He didn't even glance up.

Just reached behind him, the sound of glass clinking against glass ringing through the heavy silence, and poured amber liquid into a chipped, smoke-stained glass.

He shoved it toward me like an afterthought.

"I don't think we do," he said. "Drink."

I hesitated. My eyes met the glass. That familiar, numbing poison tempting me. I took it, not out of thirst, but desperation.

For courage. For stillness. For something to dull the tremble that had taken up permanent residence in my bones. The liquor burned its way down my throat, spreading warmth like fire, but it was cold in my stomach. Empty.

I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, already feeling the pull, slow and foggy, like a blanket too heavy to throw off.

"I can't keep doing this."

The words dropped between us like stones.

He turned, head cocked in amusement like I was a curious little insect he couldn't quite understand. His smile wasn't kind. It was cruel. Dismissive.

"You don't have a choice," he said, voice calm in a way that chilled me to the core.

He leaned forward in his chair, elbows resting casually on his knees, the way one might watch an animal bleed out.

That look, his calm, his certainty, was gasoline to a flame I had buried for years.

Rage. Not guilt, not shame, not that loathing I swallowed down every morning just to keep breathing. But real, hot, uncontrollable anger.

"You forget, I am one of the most powerful females in Prythian."

It wasn't a threat. I had never truly threatened him, never even considered it. I had hated myself too much to believe I deserved to wield what pulsed inside me.

Especially after what happened to my brother. The way I failed him.

He scoffed, rolling his eyes like I was reciting the script of a poorly written play. "Yes, yes. Sister to the most powerful High Lord. Spare me."

My jaw slackened. He'd always pushed me, always belittled, but this... this was new. Like he didn't think I was a person at all anymore. Like I was his, and had always been.

"Where was all that power the last seven years?" he sneered, rising to his feet like a slow-moving shadow. "Oh, right—buried under all that self-pity."

I stood and stepped back instinctively. He advanced.

I raised a hand, palm outward. "Stop." I meant it. My power answered when I meant it.

But nothing came.

Panic coiled like a serpent in my stomach. I hadn't used it in years, yes, but power like mine didn't just vanish.

"Go on," he taunted, arms folded. His smirk deepened, mean and predatory. "Show me how terrifying you are."

I reached inward, desperate and frantic but the well was dry. No heat, no crackle. Just a terrifying, hollow silence.

He moved in, swift and brutal. His fingers tangled in my hair and yanked my head back so hard I cried out, my hands flying to his wrist. He forced my gaze to his, his eyes were wild and gleaming.

"You think I'm stupid?" he hissed. "You think I didn't know this day would come?"

His other hand clamped around my chin, squeezing until my jaw ached. "I knew eventually you'd wake up. That something in your fucked-up head would finally whisper that you deserve better."

He shoved me back into the chair. The wind rushed from my lungs as his weight crushed down on me, immobilising me like prey beneath a predator's paw.

"So," he breathed, face inches from mine. "I took precautions."

I shoved him. Hard. My muscles trembled with effort, but it was enough to loosen his hold just slightly. I scrambled out from under him, stumbling, clutching my skull as nausea swirled.

He struck me. A slap so hard my vision flashed white. I hit the floor before I could even register the pain. And then—then he was on me again.

Fists. Elbows. Rage incarnate.

We crashed to the ground, the wooden boards beneath us groaning. His fists rained down like punishment. Like fury. Like all the years I'd swallowed my voice were owed to him in blood and bone.

"Faebane," he said, panting, sweat beading on his forehead. "Nice little additive to all the alcohol you drink, isn't it?"

I gagged on blood, head lolling. "You've been drugging me?"

He laughed, short and humourless. "How else was I supposed to stop you from snapping your fingers and ending me, hmm?"

I couldn't breathe. I couldn't think. Everything blurred together, pain, fear, shame.

"You don't get it, do you?" he sneered. "You can't feel it anymore. That numbness? That silence inside you? That's me. That's Faebane, darling."

I called for Rhys.

Not aloud, but in my mind. That ancient, silent tether between us fraying under the strain. I had never dared. Not since the day I had disappeared from their lives and sworn to suffer in silence.

But now?

Please.

It was all I could manage before his hands closed around my throat.

The air vanished. My limbs flailed. My chest heaved with nothing. I kicked, thrashed, panic overtaking everything. And still he held.

"Calling to your precious brother now?" he spat, face twisted with disgust. "Bit late for that, isn't it?"

He squeezed harder. The vein on his temple bulging.

"You've never fought like this before," he snarled. "Why start now? It's exhausting."

I tried to scream, but nothing came out.

"Fuck you," I choked, barely audible. But I said it. I meant it.

My hands clawed at his arms, my knees bucked up trying to knock him off, my mind screamed louder than my broken voice ever could.

Help me. Please. Please. Help me.

The sound of splintering wood cracked through the haze of blood and terror. The door exploded inward.

I barely registered it, barely processed the rush of cold air or the light spilling into the suffocating dark. My vision was rimmed with red, my throat on fire.

Everything was pain—until it wasn't. Until they were there.

Arms, familiar, strong, and shaking with barely-contained rage wrenched Daeron off me with a force that rattled the foundation of the apartment.

And then more arms, these ones gentler, wrapping around me like iron and safety and memory all at once.

I gasped, choking, clawing at the air, my hands still trembling violently as I fought to convince my body I was no longer being crushed, that he wasn't still—

"It's okay," a voice said—Cassian. Steady, low, his voice somehow warm despite the rage he surely had boiling just beneath the surface. "You're safe. I've got you."

I collapsed into him, body slack with little control, as he cradled me like I was something precious.

My fingers fisted into his leathers as if I could anchor myself to him and never be lost again.

Behind me, voices collided, one a scream of pain and protest, the other cold, emotionless and lethal. Azriel.

I didn't have to look. I knew the sound of that fury.

The shadowsinger rarely spoke with words when he was angry. He spoke with silence and violence, and Daeron would be feeling both.

"I'm sorry," I rasped, my voice torn and barely recognisable. "I'm so sorry. I didn't listen—I didn't listen—"

Cassian didn't speak. He just held me tighter. I lifted my head enough to see his face and I wished I hadn't.

The Cassian I knew, the laughing, fearless general was gone. What remained was heartbreak incarnate. His jaw clenched, eyes shimmering, lips pressed into a thin line.

I watched as he took me in, the bruises, the blood, the raw handprint across my throat.

"I'm sorry," I sobbed again. "Please—take me home. Please, Cass. Take me home."

He nodded, already moving, already shifting me into his arms like I weighed nothing at all. But I looked, just once—back.

Azriel stood over Daeron, shadows writhing around him like vipers made of smoke and wrath.

Daeron was on the ground, gasping, broken. Blood pooled beneath his face. But Azriel wasn't done. His siphons glowed with a blue so bright it was blinding.

Death incarnate. Vengeance personified.

And yet he hadn't made a sound.

I turned away, the image searing itself into my mind. It would haunt me as much as Daeron had. Because that darkness, that wrath, Azriel didn't let it out unless something in him snapped.

Cassian moved to the window, and then we were in the sky, wind tearing at us as the apartment shrank below. I clung to him, face buried against his chest, the cold wind a balm on my bruises.

For a long moment, neither of us spoke.

Then, softly, I whispered, "What about Az?"

Cassian didn't hesitate. "Az will come when he's done."

His voice was sure. Quiet. But laced with something... ancient. Like he knew, without question, that Azriel wouldn't leave a single bone unbroken.

That he wouldn't stop until Daeron was a memory buried in blood.

A shiver rippled through me, but it wasn't fear. It was sorrow. That it had come to this. That I had let it come to this.

The wind howled around us as the heart of Velaris came back into view, golden lights winking in the distance like stars, like hope.

But I didn't feel it.

I felt the bruises. I felt the guilt. I felt the way Cassian's hands trembled even as they held me with impossible strength.

And deep, deep inside, I felt the scream still lodged in my throat, the one that had never left, not since the first night Daeron convinced me I was nothing without him.

Home was close. I could see it. But it had never felt so far away.

Rhys was waiting.

The moment Cassian's boots touched the stone outside the House of Wind, Rhys was already there, shoulders rigid, violet eyes ablaze with restrained panic, darkness licking at his heels like it, too, sensed something had broken.

"I was with Feyre, but I heard you—" he started, words tumbling out too fast, but then he saw me.

And everything stopped.

His voice caught, his breath stilled. All that High Lord composure shattered in a single, sharp intake of breath.

"What has he done?" Rhy's voice wasn't raised. It wasn't a question. It was a roar wrapped in velvet, a storm at the edge of collapse.

And I—I broke.

The tears came like a wave crashing through a dam that had been threatening to give for years.

Seven years. Seven long, punishing, silent years without a single sob, without a single tear shed. But here, now, under that moonlit sky, in front of the family I'd spent so long avoiding.

I broke.

My knees gave out, and before I hit the ground, Rhys had me in his arms.

I didn't care who was watching. I didn't care that I was trembling, weeping, gasping as if grief was pouring straight out of my lungs. I didn't care that my voice came out in raw, shattered pieces of sound that barely resembled language.

He held me like I hadn't been touched in years. Like I hadn't been seen.

He carried me inside with careful, reverent steps, his hands protective and trembling with fury all at once.

I could feel Cassian close behind, a steady wall of presence, and then the shift of air as another set of wings landed softly.

Azriel.

We entered the warmth of the House, the familiar scent of cedarwood and citrus clinging to its walls, and Rhys placed me on the velvet couch as gently as if I were made of spun glass.

He knelt before me, not as a High Lord, but as a brother. A friend. A male who had once sworn to protect me and, in my silence, hadn't been given the chance.

"I'm here," he whispered, brushing a strand of blood-matted hair from my face. His fingers trembled as they skimmed over the bruises marring my skin. "I'm here now."

I curled into myself, the sobs coming faster. Ugly, painful things that left me heaving. And still, he held me. Still, he stroked my hair with a tenderness that made me ache.

"Why did you let this happen?" His voice cracked, not with accusation, but heartbreak.

His hands cupped my face, gently tilting it toward him.

"I tried to leave him," I whispered, every word scraped raw from my throat. "I tried, Rhys. He was drugging me—with Faebane—and I couldn't think. I couldn't feel. I hated myself so much I didn't think I deserved—"

Rhys closed his eyes. The darkness radiating off him was near-suffocating, barely restrained. The floor beneath us seemed to hum with it.

"I will kill him," he breathed, not as a threat but a vow. "I will make him regret every breath he's ever taken."

"I just want—just hold me," I croaked.

He didn't need to be asked twice.

His arms wrapped around me, strong and sure. I melted into his chest, the rise and fall of his breathing grounding me like an anchor in a churning sea.

And then I felt it. Felt them.

Cassian standing a few feet away, hands clenched at his sides like he was barely holding himself together. And Azriel, silent, unreadable, cloaked in shadows that pulsed and shifted like they were alive with his wrath.

My gaze found them, blurry and tear-stained.

I reached out. It wasn't dramatic or loud, just a trembling hand, extended in silent invitation.

Cassian was at my side first, sinking to the floor and wrapping an arm around my waist with the kind of care that made fresh tears sting my eyes.

He pressed a kiss to my temple, then tucked his head against mine like he could shield me from everything, even my own mind.

Azriel came next.

He knelt on the opposite side of me, his siphons still glowing faintly, and I could see it, feel it, in his gaze. He hadn't calmed down. Not even close. He looked at me, and I knew with utter certainty that whatever had been left of Daeron was nothing but ash and ruin.

His shadows twined up my arms, soft as silk, cool as nightfall. I didn't flinch. I welcomed them.

Azriel reached out slowly, carefully, until his gloved hand touched mine, our fingers intertwined.

His thumb brushed gently over my bruised knuckles, his shadows curling around my wrist like a promise.

I leaned my head against Rhys's chest, Cassian anchoring me on one side, Azriel a quiet constant on the other. Surrounded. Safe.

The world swam at the edges. Blackness curled like smoke in the corners of my vision. My limbs were heavy, my body screaming from within.

Azriel tensed beside me. "We need Madja—"

But I didn't hear the rest.

Everything blurred, the warmth of their bodies, the pressure of their hands, the safety, the grief, the pain. And then—

Darkness took me.

A/n - Glad we could finally be rid of Daeron x

Unfortunately, this doesn't mean there will be peace just yet because I'm mean like that not quite ready for peace!

This chapter is a bit more descriptive with the abuse, but I still kept it somewhat allusive rather than graphic, as I know it can be highly triggering.

It was important for the plot to show that the reason she couldn’t fight back, even if she wanted to, was because he had been drugging her to suppress her powers.

The next part is a little lighter, though, so look forward to that! <3

Little Star tag list - @jaybbygrl @writtenbypavani @fall-winter-heart97 @coeurdeveea @lilg101010 @krazykangaroo712 @moonlitlavenders @lil-lupa @jasmineee05 @pinksnowtiger @yourdarkrose @nerdybee123 @bookwormysblog @thoughtfulcoffeeflower @suspicious-stain-in-spain @anainkandpaper @theflowerswillbloom @queenoffeysand @historygeekqueen @lexi-in-wonderland @tele86 @saamanthaag3 @whydohumansss @xlosttdreamss @bookishwondersworld @plants-w0rld

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michaelscorneroftheinternet · 2 months ago

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CHANGE IN SCRIPT ANNOUNCEMENT POST

(PLEASE READ)

Hey everyone so burnout has caught up to me with this project.

What does this mean for Change in Script?:

Nothing much I'll just be taking a break for a while and doing random stuff with Gmod or drawing while I rest up and out of this burnout.

Thank you all for your unwavering patience!

I'll see y'all on the other side!!!!

#smg4 #smg4 fanart #smg3 #change in script #smg4 au #change in script announcement #smg4 change in script #smg4 art #smg3 plush #taking a break #i'll be back

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officialshojobeat · 16 days ago

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☆☆ NEW SERIES ANNOUNCEMENT ☆☆

Magical Girl Dandelion by Kaeru Mizuho

A fiend who slays his own kind. A magical girl who refuses the script. A tale of light and shadow intertwined.

Tanpopo Ohanami is your average teenager, except for one big, bad, serrated-toothed secret: her best friend, Shade, is a shadow fiend in a world where fiends are viewed as villains to humankind. Tanpopo never imagined her quiet days would be interrupted by a life-changing offer to become a magical girl!

When Butterfly, the organization for magical girls, comes knocking at Tanpopo’s door, she’s ecstatic to join the ranks and help Shade with what he’s been doing in secret all along. Shade, however, is none too pleased with the idea. But there’s more than their friendship at stake when Tanpopo’s grandpa falls victim to fiendhood!

Coming in March!

#shojo beat #shojobeat #new series announcement #manga

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harknessxo · 7 months ago

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House Of Balloons

Paring: Dark!Agatha Harkness x reader

Summary: When Agatha went into Westview her goal was to find the source of such chaotic magic but the moment she saw you, her plan changed just a little bit.

Warnings; psychological abuse (with magic), google translate Latin, kissing, possessive Agatha, non-con, girl penis, breeding kink, corruption kink, dacryphilia.

Word Count: 3.4k

A/n: I finished it and the realized I forgot the mistress kink. I’m so sorry!

When Agatha got tangled up in Wanda’s Hex, her plan was to figure out where the source of such power was and take every bit of it for herself. That was until you came along. See, she soon figured out Wanda was the one responsible for this sickening reality she created and made her mission to befriend her so it would be easier to get her power. She followed Wanda’s…script per-say and made sure to dress herself for each decade.

Then came the 60s episode. Agatha took Wanda to Dottie’s committee meeting and that’s when she saw you. She stopped in her tracks to admire your beauty but stopped before anyone would notice. She made sure to sit right next to you and strike up a conversation.

“Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?” She complimented, trying to get your attention. You immediately looked in her direction, a rosy tint straining your cheeks.

“T-thank you,” you stuttered nervously. She chuckled at your nervousness. How adorable you were, she thought.

“I’m Agnes,” she introduced herself.

“I’m Y/n. Nice to meet you,” you replied politely. She smiled as you told her your name. A beautiful name for such a beautiful doll.

“It’s a pleasure, doll,” she rested a hand on your knee, watching for your reaction to her flirting, “I don’t think I’ve seen you around here before. New in town?”

“I…” you stopped yourself trying to remember. Why couldn’t you remember? She noticed your pause, but before she could say anything Dottie called for the meeting to start.

“Alright everyone lets start today’s meeting.” Dottie announced.

“We’ll continue our conversation later, darling.” Agatha placed a hand on your thigh and squeezed it reassuringly.

“Okay,” you smiled awkwardly. Why couldn’t you remember something so simple?

The meeting began, and though it was long and boring, Agatha enjoyed being next to you. Her hand had remained on your thigh but she felt you squirm under her touch so she moved it. That last thing she wanted was to scare you off. She wanted for you to come to her willingly…at least with a little bit of magic.

As the meeting continued on Agatha kept stealing halves at you every now and then, completely forgetting why she was there in the first place and instead brewing a whole new plan that included you coming with her after she sucked Wanda dry of her powers.

Her mind slowly formed and tweaked her plan, but it still had one problem. A small, yet critical obstacle. That would be Wanda Maximoff herself. But…this town was Agatha’s to play with. If anyone would ruin her plans, it would be her.

Eventually, the meeting was done. Agatha didn’t hesitate to keep you from walking away, a strong arm wrapped around your waist and gently holding you in place.

“Would you like to come over for some tea, sweetheart?” she asked but it came out more as a demand.

“I uh- sure!” you replied nervously. She smirked, pleased that you didn’t put up a fight. She guided you out of the room, her hand resting on the small of your back, her touch hot through the fabric of your dress.

“Good choice. I want to get to know you better,” You were quite confused by this woman’s sudden interest in you but for some reason you didn’t question it, you couldn’t.

She chuckled as you seemed so…naive. You were just like putty in her hands. It wouldn’t be long until she’d have you wrapped around her finger and at her feet. Once she got you to her home, she led you to the couch and sat you down, sitting beside you with her thigh against yours.

“Do you have a preferred type of tea?”

“Anything is fine by me, thank you,” she smiled, reaching out to caress your cheek with her hand. She loved how you were just so easily trusting, even when her touch was possessive and forceful. She leaned a little closer to you as she spoke.

“I have some jasmine tea that I love. That will have to do.”

“O-okay…” you watched as she walked into her kitchen, all while you tried to wrap your head around what was happening. You kept trying to remember anything only for a harshful voice forcefully telling you to stop inside your own mind, making you wince.

Once the tea was brewed, she carried the tea kettle and two cups to the coffee table in front of you. She gently poured a cup of tea for both of you before sitting beside you once more, the tea kettle on the floor next to her. She watched you closely as you seemed uncomfortable.

“What’s wrong, my dear? Are you feeling uncomfortable?”

“No! Of course not!” you quickly said, not wanting her to offend her, “I just…I can’t seem to remember anything. I- I don’t know how to explain it.” This made her remember you were under Wanda’s spell along with the rest of the town. She frowned thinking of how much pain you were under.

“You can’t remember anything? At all?”

“No. It’s like every time I try…a voice yells at me to stop…” silence fell into the room which made you snap out of the sudden trance, “I’m sorry- that was stupid to say- how long have you lived here?” You said trying to change the subject. She mentally chuckled at your little change in subject but didn’t push it. The least she could do was answer some of your questions…even if they were boring.

“Hm… about a month or two,” she hummed, reaching out to grab her cup of tea, her fingers slightly grazing against your thigh in the process. That wasn’t intentional…in your eyes. You picked up the other tea cup and took a sip, oblivious to the enchantment Agatha had put in it. It was meant to…plant seeds for you to fall for her bit by bit.

She watched you closely as you drank the tea, a smirk tugging at the corners of her lips. The enchantment slowly began to take effect, the magic flowing through your body. She could see it in your eyes, how your pupils slightly dilated and your body seemed to be a bit more relaxed than before.

“This tea is really good! What did you put in it?” You gushed. She feigned innocence, shrugging her shoulders slightly as she took a sip of her own tea.

“Just some herbs I picked from my garden,” she lied, watching you closely. The effects were definitely taking effect on you, and it only took a few more moments before you would be completely in her grasp.

As you continued on talking to Agnes for the rest of the afternoon, you began to feel more attracted towards her. As if something was pulling you towards her and you couldn’t help it. You had finished your tea and now, you were practically glued to Agatha’s side. She sat on the couch, her legs stretched out across the cushions and her arms draped over the back of the couch. You were sitting right beside her, your body almost pressed up against hers. She loved how the enchantment was affecting you, making you more needy for her touch.

As adorable as she thought you were like this, she wanted to take her time with you so she walked you home to make sure you were safe even as you tried to protest, wanted to stay with her a little longer.

When she arrived at your house, she smirked at your cute pout. She chuckled and gently grabbed your chin between her fingers, forcing you to look at her.

“Now, now, doll. I have things to do and I need you to behave for me, alright?”

“Okay…will you come over tomorrow?” She smiled, gently stroking your cheek with her thumb.

“Of course I will, darling. I’ll come by tomorrow morning.”

“Okay. See you tomorrow!”

“Good night, sweetheart,” she said with a smirk before giving you a little push towards your door, waiting for you to enter your house before she left. As you went into your home, you felt that voice in your head once again telling you what to do and how to do it. It made you wince but you did as it said, too afraid of the consequence if you didn’t. It told you to go to bed and so you did only for nightmares that didn’t belong to you to occur as if they were reality.

For the next three episodes you only fell harder for Agnes. She made the voice in your head quiet down though ever since the first day you met her, your recurring headaches got worse. She could tell you were in so much pain but was skeptical in lifting Wanda’s spell. If she lifted Wanda’s spell, she would also lift her own. She didn’t know how you would react.

You were now sitting in your living room talking with Agnes while your tv was on for background noise. You were practically sitting on her lap with how close you were to her. She had one arm wrapped around your waist, holding you close to her. She loved the way you practically clung to her. She was also having trouble keeping her hands to herself. Her hand slowly slipped underneath your shirt and gently caressed the skin of your hip, a small smirk on her lips as she watched your reaction.

“So, did you like the cookies I baked you, sweetheart?”

“Yes! They were so good. You need to teach me how to make them!” you gushed like you always did with everything she made. She chuckled at your enthusiasm, her hand slowly sliding up your hip and moving to your stomach, her fingers gently tracing small patterns against your skin. Gosh you were so cute.

“Of course I will, darling. We can bake them together some time,” she hummed, gently tugging you even closer. When you looked up at her you realized how closer the two of you were now. You looked down her lips yet didn’t do anything, too scared to make a move.

She noticed your gaze flicker down to her lips and she couldn’t help but chuckle, her hand on your hip squeezing slightly. She was patient, but she knew that you needed some encouragement. She lifted her other hand and gently tilted your chin up to look her in the eye.

“Something on your mind, darling?” Your lips parted but no words came out. She raised an eyebrow, amused at your lack of response. She leaned in a little closer, her breath warm against your lips as she spoke.

“Use your words, sweetheart. You know I like it when you speak,” she purred, her hand on your stomach slowly moving up your torso, her fingertips grazing the underside of your bra. Her praise only urged you to pull her in for a kiss. Her lips were so soft but before you could enjoy it, a bolt of pain surged through your head, making you pull away and hiss in pain. She was taken by surprise by your sudden pull away, her eyes filled with concern as she looked at you.

“Darling, what’s wrong?” She asked, her hand that was on your stomach quickly moving up to gently rub your head, trying to soothe the pain that you were experiencing.

“Uh nothing,” you pulled away from her and started to stand up, “I’m going to get some water, would you like something to drink?” She furrowed her eyebrows, noticing your hesitance to answer her question. She knew she was half responsible for your pain.

“No, I’m fine, doll. Go ahead and get some water.”

“O-okay,” you walked into your kitchen, the voice in your head turned into two and they only grew louder. You picked up a glass and poured yourself some water. As you were about to take a sip of it, the voices suddenly screamed in your head and you dropped the glass cup, making it break.

A gasp escaped Agatha’s lips as she heard the sound of glass breaking in the kitchen. She quickly got up and rushed over to you, her eyes widening as she saw you on the ground with shattered glass around you.

“Y/n!” She said worriedly, immediately crouching down to your level and gently cupping your face in her hands, “Are you okay?”

“Agnes, it hurts! Please make it stop,” your hands gripped onto her purple cardigan. She could feel her heart ache as she watched you in pain, tears forming in your eyes. She gently pulled you into her lap, wrapping her arms around you protectively.

“Shh, I know it hurts, doll. Just try to relax for me,” Her fingers swirled around your temple as she began to chant what seemed like gibberish to you and soon the pain stopped. All your memories came back to you. The ropes of red magic surrounding your house and them engulfing you. You scrambled away from Agnes’ embrace, overwhelmed with everything that was happening all at once.

She let you scramble away, watching as you began to remember everything. She could tell that you were overwhelmed and panicking, so she stayed silent for a few moments, letting you process everything.

“Wanda…she did this,” you panted out and looked up, “Who are you?” She let out a soft sigh, knowing that this moment was going to happen eventually. She looked at you with a neutral expression on her face, noticing the fear in your eyes as you stared at her.

“You can call me Agatha. I’m…a witch,”

“No,” you scrambled further away from her until your back hit your counter, “Not another witch.” She slowly stood up and took a step closer to you, her hands held up in a calming gesture.

“I’m not going to hurt you, doll,” she said softly, keeping her distance from you for now.

“Don’t call me that and stay away from me!” You grabbed a knife and pointed it at her, “I have to get out of here,” you mumbled more to yourself than her. She stopped in her tracks, a small frown on her face as she watched you grab the knife. She knew that she was still stronger than you and could easily overpower you if she wanted to. But she didn’t want to scare you further so she remained where she was.

“You’re not going anywhere,” she said firmly, her eyes flickering between the knife and your face, “Now, put the knife down, sweetheart. You’re perfectly safe with me.”

“Yeah right. You’re just like Wanda.” Her eyes narrowed at your words, a hint of irritation in her expression. She took another step closer to you, taking the knife from your grasp and closing the distance between you.

“I’m nothing like Wanda,” she said through gritted teeth, “She’s the one who trapped you in this shit town under a fake reality. I was only trying to break through her stupid hex. Truly a waste of power. But you,” she grasped your jaw, “You made me change my mind. You’re special and you’re not leaving me.”

“You’re fucking crazy!” You shoved her off and made a run for the door only for a purple magic rope making you trip. A smirk made its way to her face as you fell to the floor. The next thing you knew, you were bound to the ground, your wrists pinned to the floor by the magic ropes as well. You started to struggle against the restraints, trying to get away but it was all in vain. She slowly knelt down in front of you, grabbing your chin to force you to look at her once again.

“There’s no use fighting against them, doll. They’re strong and won’t break no matter how much you struggle.”

“I knew it. You’re truly just like her.” You spit on her face. She closed her eyes and let out a low growl as your spit landed on her face. She used her free hand to wipe it off before wrapping her hand around your throat.

“Careful, sweetheart,” she said in a low, dangerous tone, “I may not like it when you talk back to me, but I can’t deny that it’s turning me on right now.”

“Let me go, please?” She chuckled softly, her grip on your throat not loosening in the slightest.

“Oh, pet. You’re adorable when you beg. But I’m afraid I can’t let you go. Not now that I have you right where I want you,” she waved her hand and you were now on your bed, naked and tied to the headboard, making your eyes widened in terror. She slowly crawled on top of you, a satisfied smirk on her face as she took in the sight of you tied up and helpless underneath her. She straddled your hips, her hands roaming over your body, admiring every inch of you.

“Don’t touch me!” you writhed under her. She let out a taunting sound as she continued to run her hands over your body, ignoring your protests. Her touch was possessive and rough, as if she was claiming you as hers.

“You’re mine now, doll. I can touch you however I want.” Tears started to well in your eyes.

“Please just-“ you swallowed the lump in your throat, “don’t hurt me…” She softened slightly at the sight of your tears, her hand gently cupping your face as she leaned down and licked the tears that started to spill from your eyes.

“You’re so pretty when you cry, pet,” she cooed, “And I won’t hurt you…too bad.” You closed your eyes tightly as she started taking off her cardigan along with everything else and when she was done, she began to kiss down your jaw until she reached your ear.

“You will love me,” she whispered before she began chanting Latin, “Fac horologium contra. Serva quod perierat. Fac eam ama me quocunque pretio.“

“What- what are you doing?” She ignored your question and continued to chant a love spell.

“Reduc quod olim fuit meum. Omne pulchrum esse videtur.” You felt lightheaded like you were floating. When you opened your eyes again, you saw Agatha again, her forehead pressed against yours as she pounded into you. She had a look of intense focus on her face as she looked into your eyes, her hips moving at a steady pace. She could feel the effects of the spell working on you, the love and desire slowly filling your mind.

“Ag- Agatha?”

“Shh, it’s okay, pet. You completely mine now,” she answered breathlessly as she continued to thrust into you. Her eyes locked onto yours, a smirk on her face as she noticed the change in your expression from confusion to acceptance.

As you gained consciousness of your whole body, you began to feel the pleasure Agatha was giving you. You whimpered every time her cock rubbed against your g-spot. She smirked even more as she heard your whimpers, her pace increasing slightly as she leaned down to kiss and nip at your neck.

“There we go, doll. Just relax and let me take care of you,” she whispered against your skin.

“I…I am yours,” you gasped out.

“That’s right, sweetheart,” she purred, her hand gripping your hip tightly as she continued to pound into you.

“You’re all mine, and no one else’s. Your body, your mind, your soul. All mine to use as I please.”

“I think I’m gonna-“

“Come for me, pet,” she growled, her grip on your hip tightening even more as she continued to hit that spot inside you over and over again. She came along with you, spilling her load deep inside, finalizing her possession over you. She leaned down and captured your lips in a deep, possessive kiss as she rode out her orgasm, her tongue slipping into your mouth and dominating you completely.

“Humph…” Once she broke the kiss, she pulled out of you and laid down next to you, pulling you close against her body. She began to run her fingers through your hair, a satisfied smile on her face.

“You belong to me now, pet. All that’s left to do is take Wanda’s power. That way you and I can live happily ever after,” she said, watching as the reflection of her powers settled in your eyes.

“All yours~”

Taglist; @polaris-likethestar @wandasreallover @oh-no-bummer @phixiesworld @eliscannotdance @venomhimbo @aka-patsy @scoliobean @chlondykebar @marvelwomenarehot0 @mgruiz @daenerys713

#fanfic #smut #agatha harkness #x reader #agatha all along #request #agatha harkness x reader #agatha x reader #wandavision #wanda maximoff #angst

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ikyunho · 1 month ago

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✧˖⊹ ࣪ ˖⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆✴︎˚｡⋆⭑⋆｡° ✧˖⊹ ࣪ ˖⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆✴︎˚｡⋆⭑⋆｡°✩

[17:30] Myung Jaehyun ~ Boynextdoor

Pairing: idol mc!jaehyun x idol mc!reader

Warnings: lovesick Jaehyun, Idk I have no plot just a dream, this mildly devastating

A/N: I have never watched an ep of MCountdown without being overwhelmed and turning it off, Sohee I miss you.

✧˖⊹ ࣪ ˖⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆✴︎˚｡⋆⭑⋆｡° ✧˖⊹ ࣪ ˖⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆✴︎˚｡⋆⭑⋆｡°✩

Anxiously, you flipped through your script and analyzed every highlight, note, and comment. You’d never done anything remotely similar to MC-ing for one of the most popular music shows in the country, so why did you agree to be their guest host? Simple. Myung Jaehyun.

He’d been nagging and begging you to accept the offer for weeks. When MCountdown announced they were in need of a temporary MC, the first person Jaehyun thought of to fill the position was you. What could go wrong? It was good promotion for you, and you could finally be with each other after being apart for so long.

There was one issue that both of you seemed to have forgotten. Your relationship wasn’t public, nor did your companies want them to be public any time soon.

✧˖⊹ ࣪ ˖⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆✴︎˚｡⋆⭑⋆｡°✧

After nervously fixing your hair and committing your lines to memory, you and Jaehyun walked into the area where you would be spending the next several hours. His hand reached for yours to calm your racing nerves instinctively, only for staff to cough in warning from behind the cameras. The two of you gave each other a look before stepping apart to avoid a rise of suspicions and dating rumors per company request.

Seeing how quickly Jaehyun deflated into himself had a sad sigh falling from your lips. But as quickly as it happened, he put on a smile and acted like he wasn't disappointed. The usual puppy love filled look in his eye replaced with displeasure and frustration.

He had it all planned out. He was supposed to be with you, hold your hand, and finally spend more time together than the short sleepovers that resulted in someone being gone when the other woke up. You weren't supposed to steal glances at each other every time the camera cut hoping that no one caught you.

You both walk backstage for a moment under the guise of needing water. You're concerned and Jaehyun is visibly upset, effecting the usual fun and happy environment of the show.

"Jae... What is up with you?" You question, hands reaching for his worry covering your face.

"This wasn't how I planned for things to go. They don't care when Sohee and I hug or even get close to each other. I wanted to be able to actually be near you, not on opposite sides of the room," He answered, looking at the ground with a devastatingly cute pout on his face.

You let go of his hands to cup his cheeks, lifting his gaze from the floor to you. "I know this isn't what you wanted it to be like, but we can make it work. Now, let's go back out there, stand next to each other, and maybe I'll let you hold my hand when we aren't live," you responded with a slight giggle before dragging him out of the room, both of you smiling more than when the show started.

✧˖⊹ ࣪ ˖⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆✴︎˚｡⋆⭑⋆｡°✧

The audience of fans quickly noticed the change in demeanor. Jaehyun was practically glued to your side, grinning and giggling like he was back in kindergarten. He didn't care about spreading rumors anymore. They weren't even rumors if they were true, right? All he cared about was you and the smile on your face that he loved so much.

The rest of the show was significantly better. Morale was high and both of you were beaming with joy. Your lovesick puppy was back, and you wouldn't have it any other way. To say the fans were obsessed was an understatement. Tweets with screenshots and clips of you together were going viral, the viewer counts skyrocketed, and it did wonders for publicity. All because Jaehyun loved you and was able to show it how he so desperately wished to do.

But if he asked you to come back as a host, everyone, staff and all would say no. He was happier than ever and views were up, but productivity was down seeing as Jaehyun was too busy staring at you with hearts in his eyes when the cameras weren't rolling.

It was safe to say that your first (and last) time hosting a music show with Myung Jaehyun was one for the books.

✧˖⊹ ࣪ ˖⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆✴︎˚｡⋆⭑⋆｡° ✧˖⊹ ࣪ ˖⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆✴︎˚｡⋆⭑⋆｡°✩

#╰(*´︶`*)╯♡ finn speaks #boynextdoor #myung jaehyun #bnd x reader #bnd #boynextdoor x reader #myung jaehyun x reader #jaehyun x reader #boynextdoor fluff

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fear-is-truth · 10 months ago

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INTERVIEW WITH THE ANTICHRIST

── michael langdon x gn! reader. || wc: 980

The chamber was eerily silent, illuminated only by the flickering candles and the warm glow of the fireplace. You were seated in a plush armchair, stiff and cold beneath your fingers, your back pressed tight against the cushions.

The air was thin, as if it was being slowly siphoned away. You felt small, trapped. Like an insect in a glass jar. Langdon had only arrived at the outpost a day ago, but already, you could feel the shift in power. Even Venable—the high and mighty bitch who ruled over all—was clearly shaken by his arrival.

No one knew much about him, only that he was important. And dangerous.

The interviews with Langdon had quickly become a topic of annoyance among the other inhabitants. Each person who had been interviewed complained about his cryptic nature and nonchalant attitude. Whatever his purpose here, it felt like a game to him—a clever farce meant to toy with you all.

And now it was your turn to entertain him.

You kept your gaze fixed ahead as Langdon rose from behind his desk, the sound of his boots against the floor the only disruption to the stifling silence as he approached you. He did not bother to sit. Instead, he stood before you, arms clasped behind his back, his expression inscrutable as he studied you.

“You’re the seventh,” he announced, and his voice was smooth, like a glassy winter pond. You nodded, swallowing hard, unable to tear your eyes away from him as he began to circle you. The way he moved was languid, graceful.

You fidgeted slightly, trying to suppress your nerves. Langdon was, undeniably beautiful— angelic, even. He looked as if he had been sculpted from marble, with sharp, almost impossibly perfect features—chiselled cheekbones and a jawline that could cut glass. Long, golden hair fell in soft waves over his shoulders, and his pale skin stood out against his all-black attire. The dark clothing gave him an air of authority, likely because he was sent by The Cooperative.

“Tell me. How do you feel your life here, at the Outpost?” he purred, his voice curling in the air around you. The question seemed casual, yet there was something in the way he said it that made you feel anything but.

“It's...” You paused, your throat suddenly dry. “It’s fine,” the words felt hollow on your tongue, laughable, given the bleak reality of your existence here. Sure, you were relieved to be alive, the temptation of sweet oblivion often lingered at the edge of your thoughts. Langdon moved behind you, and even though you couldn’t see him, you could feel his bright blue gaze drilling into the back of your skull.

When he spoke again, his voice was a soft, coaxing whisper, like honeyed velvet.

“What do you miss the most?”

The question struck you off guard. It wasn’t what you had anticipated—then again, you hadn’t known what to expect.

“…I’m sorry?”

“Prior to… all of this,” he clarified, gesturing vaguely at the surrounding walls,

“What do you miss most?”

You exhaled shakily, gripping the armrests tighter as you spoke.

“I… I miss the colours. The sky, the sunsets. And the trees, the ones that lined the sidewalks. The way they change in autumn.”

He chuckled softly, and you swore you could detect genuine humour in the sound. Embarrassed at the wistfulness in your tone, you stared down at your lap, at the monotonous gray of your uniform.

“You miss beauty, don’t you?”

he murmured, his breath warm against your ear as he leaned closer. His thumb brushed the edge of your jaw in the lightest of touches. Stunned into silence, you simply nodded.

He stopped in front of you now, tilting his head slightly, eyes narrowing as if appraising your response. The silence stretched, tension pulling at the edges of the room until it felt unbearable. Then, he deadpanned,

“The world outside is a wasteland now,”

There was no trace of emotion, his words as detached as if he were reading from a script. He stepped closer, leaning in. The cool press of his hand settled against your cheek, the metal of his rings biting into your skin. You froze under his touch, your breath catching in your throat.

“But perhaps,” he mused, his voice soft, almost to himself, “some beauty has survived after all.”

Just as quickly as he had touched you, he withdrew his hand and resumed circling. Every step he took only made the knot of anxiety in your chest tighten further.

The questions that followed were innocent but somehow, simultaneously intimate. He asked about your favourite book, about what scared you most as a child, your childhood best friend.

Throughout it all, his piercing blue eyes never strayed from you. They stripped you bare, as though he was peeling back the layers of your very soul. You answered as best you could, because you had a nagging suspicion that he already knew the answers before you spoke.

Then, just as quickly as it had started, the interview ended.

“That’s all for now.” Langdon turned on his heel, striding toward the door with the same measured grace. His fingers brushed the sleek panels, sliding them open with ease. He paused at the threshold, turning back to look at you. His expression was unreadable, yet there was something lingering in his eyes, something you couldn’t quite put your fingers on.

“I look forward to our next meeting.”

You blinked, unsure if this was the end. The knot of nerves tightened in your stomach as you stood from the armchair, wringing your hands together.

“Wait,” you called after him, your voice trembling slightly.

“Have I… did I get in?”

Langdon turned fully to face you, a faint, almost amused smile curling at the corners of his lips.

“You were already in before the interview,” he murmured, as if it were an afterthought.

“I just wanted to speak to you nonetheless.”

#𝐅.𝐈.𝐓 #ahs season 8 #divider credit : astralnymphh #american horror story #ahs #ahs apocalypse #michael langdon #michael langdon x reader #michael langdon x y/n #michael langdon x you #cody fern #tate langdon

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