#most will also never see the light of day

[moonchildstyles]

bardot

y/n is an aspiring model, and harry just might be the person that could help her

wordcount: 12.5k+

this is a patreon exclusive, with every part after this one only available on my page!

—————

A chill touched the base of (Y/N)'s spine as she padded over the cracked tiles lining her kitchen floor. It was enough of a disturbance to cause a pinch in her brows, though she still couldn't manage to peel her eyes open more than a crack. If not for the fact that she had to run a couple of errands before her shift tonight, she wouldn't even be awake at the moment. 

Working through that fatigue, she rubbed her eyes as she reached for the box of Cheerios on the top of her fridge. Her movements were lethargic as she made her breakfast, taking her time as she attempted to wake up despite the late night she'd had, closing the restaurant. Before sitting down with her cereal, she made a point to draw open her curtains, allowing bright beams of sunlight to filter through her apartment, a tactic she opened would wake her up. 

Feeling the warmth on her skin, her tired eyes fluttering against the bright light, it was all something she was still getting used to. The California sun was still so novel to her compared to the weather she'd grown up with back home. Though she missed the multitude of sweaters she'd left behind at her parents' home, she would trade those knits to get this kind of sunlight any day. 

(Y/N) pulled in a deep breath, imagining the specks of sunlight bumbling through her lungs. It didn't feel so bad then to sit down with her breakfast, a selection of new, glossy magazines sitting in the middle of her coffee table—a gift from herself after getting through her shift the night before.

Spooning a bite to her mouth, she picked up the first magazine with VOGUE stamped across the top. The cover held a glimmering photograph of a woman draped in a brightly colored dress, her hair teased high, and the kind of makeup (Y/N) had attempted to achieve in her bathroom mirror—though it never turned out as clean. The headlines had printings about the best summer pieces to have to get that "California Style", along with spreads about the new "Paris Chic" and the best eye makeup for your eye color. 

This was her morning news. Everything she wanted to know was between the glossy pages, every photograph a part of her morning routine. Flicking through, (Y/N) admired the models printed on the pages, each of them exceptionally beautiful and holding a kind of poise she wondered also ran through their real lives. 

Did Jean Shrimpton always look that perfect? Was Donyale Luna even able to leave the house without someone stopping her for just a momentary look at her cheekbones? Did any of these women ever admire themselves on the page the way (Y/N) did?

Though she skimmed the articles as she went, she no doubt had eyes for the photos themselves. If she squinted hard enough, she could almost see herself instead of the leggy body on the page. 

After finishing off her cereal, she flipped the page just as she began to rise to tow her dishes to the sink, though the ad on page had her lagging for just a moment. 

Corseted into an hourglass shape, complete with a puffy bunny tail and a set of ears on her head, was a woman with blonde hair teased high holding a silver serving tray. Black stockings molded around her legs, showing off the curves like the smile on her lips. Beneath her was a bold black font, detailing the opening of a new club in Los Angeles. 

Playboy. 

(Y/N) was familiar with the branding and the general idea behind the company, but it wasn't something she gave more than a passing thought most of the time. It was never something that really appealed to her, piquing nothing more than her curiosity over how many models—well known and hidden, alike—had been able to feel that kind of confidence to be able to pose the way they did. While she'd never seen anything for herself, there was always the talk about the centerfolds of the magazines, and what exactly was sandwiched between the pages.

It was definitely a departure from the kinds of modeling she had pictured for herself when she made the move out to the west coast in the first place, but she wondered, while looking at the corseted woman, what it could feel like to be in that spot. Would the confidence come naturally? Would the perfect posture and the perfect smile come on instinct, or were those women directed and directed until they were what the men around her told her would sell? 

She couldn't be sure, the idea being too much for her to figure out since she hadn't even been on a set herself yet. She didn't know what it would be like to have a real photographer put their camera in her face normally, let alone with only the smallest amount of clothing on her body. 

Casting one more glance at the page, she rose from her spot on the couch to take her dishes to the sink. With the corseted woman out of sight and out of mind, (Y/N) was instead distracted by the calendar pinned to the wall beside her sink. Today's slot was marked with all of the day's errands as well as her shift time, though she was distracted by the following day.

There wasn't anything particularly special marking the space, but it would commemorate the six month anniversary of her official move to California. 

If she thought too hard about it, she would focus on the lack of auditions she'd been on after the move, the zero number of scouts that had seen her on the street and begged her to join their agency, the amount of times she wondered if she had actually made the right decision when she asked her parents to help her pack up and move across the country. 

Instead, she reminded herself of the same thing she always did when all of the change had become overwhelming: just because it hasn't happened for her yet, doesn't mean it never will. 

She was an optimist at heart, and she would continue to be optimistic about her future in this city. One day she would be plastered on a billboard, or showcasing a new Maybelline mascara with her eyes fluttering in a commercial. She could even find her way to Vogue someday. 

For all she knew, today could be the start of her big break.

—————

"Thank you for covering, Gabby!" 

As soon as (Y/N) stepped out into the makeshift break room in the alley behind the restaurant for her lunch break, the bubbly smile on her lips fell. Closing shifts always took the breath out of her, especially during the dinner rush on Friday nights like this. 

These thirty minutes away, hiding in the back alley at one of the small tables set up in lieu of a proper break room, was precious to her. Despite just how loud the restaurant was, the sound overspilling into the alley, the space was just removed enough to help her brain quiet down for the time being. As much as (Y/N) loved the way her body looked and the way her legs seemed to stretch on for miles when she slipped on high heels, there would never be anything that could rival the relieved feeling that came with slipping them off for even just a few minutes during this time away. 

Leaving her feet only loosely in her shoes, she didn't waste any more of her break time, pulling out her packed sandwich and the bottle of apple juice she brought for her dinner. She had tucked a small magazine into her purse, but the thought of adding anything extra to her head at the moment wasn't appealing. Instead, she listened to the overflow of conversation from the server's station just by the swinging door of the alley as if it were a program from her television set.

Just as usual, she heard some of her coworkers debating over if there were any familiar faces seated in the dining room for the night. It wasn't unusual for famous patrons to take a seat for dinner with them, though (Y/N) highly doubted Elizabeth Taylor was currently at the bar, but the debate of whether or not one of the waiters should approach her and ask if he could be in her next movie (or next husband) was enough to bring a smile to her face between her bites of dinner. 

By the time she emptied her bottle of apple juice and had her lunch reduced to a few crumbs, the server's station had been cleared out with the only noise of the kitchen filtering out to the alley and keeping her comfortable. Just as she moved to pack everything away, her ears perked at the sound of quick footsteps heading outside to join her. Peering over her shoulder, (Y/N) just caught the way Misty, one of the hostesses she was closer with, all but barreled out onto the pavement. 

It didn't take very long to spot the difference in Misty's demeanor with the way she didn't seem to notice (Y/N) was out there at all, instead immediately beginning to pace before the door with her heels clicking over the pavement. There must have been a conversation going on in her head with the way she flapped her hands before her like a talk show host, and the silent muttering of her lips. As far as (Y/N) knew, Misty's break wasn't scheduled for another hour, even. 

"Mist?" (Y/N) prodded in a gentle voice, "Is everything okay?" 

Stopping in her tracks with a stutter to her steps, Misty looked to her with wide brown eyes and a hand to her throat. "Oh my god, you scared me." 

"Sorry," (Y/N) offered with a cautious smile, "Are you okay? You seem really freaked." 

"Yeah," Misty said, though she was less than convincing with her response, "Did you see my sister came in?" 

(Y/N) nodded, looking up at her friend from where she sat at the wobbly wrought iron table. "Is she okay?" 

Misty's shaken demeanor shifted then as she rolled her eyes, heaving a big sigh. "She's fine," she started, irritated, "just stupid. We were supposed to go to this party tomorrow night in the hills, but she's bailing on me so she can meet up with her ex. They're going to 'work it out', apparently." 

"Wait, the one that cheated with your cousin?" (Y/N)'s brows furrowed, with her mouth dropping into a gape. It couldn't be that ex, right? 

"That's the one," Misty chirped, also less than impressed with her sister's choosing, "I know, she's being an idiot but not even my mom was able to talk her out of it. But, she was going to be my ride tomorrow, and go with me so I wasn't alone."

(Y/N)'s face fell when she heard how dejected Misty sounded. While she didn't know much about this party in "the hills", she was sure that hearing about her sister's reconciliation with a terrible ex—and that she would rather hang out with a cheater than Misty herself—was more than enough to get her down. 

"I'm sorry, Mist," (Y/N) said, her eyes softening with her lips falling into a pout, "It's not fair to leave you hanging like that." 

Settling some, Misty took the chair across from (Y/N) offering a small smile. "It's okay," she shrugged, "It's just frustrating. She knows this party is important to me, but she's going to go see some guy that cheated on her, instead." 

"That sucks," (Y/N) interjected, sure her friend wasn't looking for a solution more than she wanted to vent at the moment, "Is it a birthday party, or?" 

Misty shook her head, her long black hair wisping over her shoulder, "It's an industry party. One of my friend's has an older sister who works across the street from this office that has a bunch of these music people. Apparently there's a big party happening tomorrow night at some executive's house, and she was able to get me and my sister an invite, but now I don't know if I'm even going to be able to make it there." 

(Y/N)'s lips thinned, her eyes falling to the latticed surface of the table where she fiddled with the strap of her purse. An idea pinged through her head, though she was more than unsure of voicing it. 

She'd never been to an industry party before, but there was a first time for everything—especially if it meant she could help her friend. If she was lucky, there might be even a few people she could get to know, other models or someone that could help in her own dreams. 

"I—" she started, catching her tongue when she was unsure of her next words. Flicking her eyes up to Misty, where it was clear on her face just how hard she was thinking about whatever plan she could conjure for the next twenty-four hours, (Y/N) tried again. "Okay—um—stop me if I'm doing too much, but I... If you want, I could go with you? Just so you wouldn't be alone, and I could drive you up, and everything. I don't want you to miss this if you think you'll be able to meet someone that could help you with your singing, but don't feel like you have to take me. If you can't find anyone else, just know I'm willing." 

Feeling herself rambling, (Y/N) forced herself to zip her lips in favor of watching for Misty's reaction. 

"Wait, really?" Misty said, a bubbling lilt to her voice, "You'd drive and everything, even though it's kind of far away? You don't, like, work tomorrow or anything?" 

Her rapid fire questions did little to hide the light that sparkled in her eyes and the smile that crept on her lips. (Y/N) only shrugged, feeling herself light up. "I work tomorrow night, but I should be home with enough time to get ready as long as we don't have to be there too early." 

The giggling squeal that left Misty's lips had (Y/N) letting out her own laugh just before her friend reached for her hands across the table. "(Y/N)! Thank you so much—I would love to have you come with me! We're going to have so much fun, thank you!" 

(Y/N) felt herself perking up, matching Misty's energy as she squeezed her hands. "I'm so excited, thank you," she bubbled.

The dejection she came out with had melted away leaving room for her to be back to her bubbling, loud self that ran the front of the restaurant. "No, no, thank you! Really, there's going to be so many people there—important people—this could be really good for us. And now, we both get to go!" 

Despite feeling a little nervous, accepting an invite to a place she'd never been before along with the host being someone she had no real connection to, (Y/N) couldn't help but to feel a warmth in her stomach over the kind of luck she'd stumbled into tonight. While she was sure there was going to be majority of people from the music world in attendance—people who were going to be important to Misty and her dreams of having a singing career—there has to be at least a couple of people who knew someone who could help her encroach on her own modeling aspirations. 

The remainder of her lunch time (as well as Misty's impromptu break from her hostess duties) was spent ironing out the details of the next day. A to-do list came together in (Y/N)'s head, starting with raiding her closet as soon as she made it back to her apartment tonight, hoping she could find something in the back of the racks that might be suitable for the kind of party Misty was describing to her. She couldn't wait to force a map into Misty's hands to navigate them to the hills she kept mentioning.

"I heard there might be valet there, but I don't know if that's true or just something Angelica—" 

"(Y/N), do you know where Mist—Oh, there you are," Marcus, one of the waiters, said, popping his head out into the alley, "I know you took a fifteen, but we need your help." 

Misty deflated at the request of her presence, a pout itching to settle on her lips. "I'll be up in a second." 

"Okay. Molly's drowning right now, though, so be fast."

Before he could catch the roll of Misty's eyes, Marcus disappeared back into the bustling restaurant. 

Turning to (Y/N), Misty started for the door, standing from her spot across from her friend. "I'll call you tomorrow, okay? We'll figure out what we're wearing, and I'll tell you the exact address when I get the note back from my sister." 

"Okay," (Y/N) smiled, eyes following her friend as she approached the door, "Thank you again, Misty—I'm really excited." 

She paused in the doorway, one foot inside the restaurant with the other in the alley. "Me too. See you in there." 

With a wave, Misty slipped inside the restaurant leaving (Y/N) with a remaining five minutes alone. 

She quietly packed up with a smile on her face. By the time she slipped her feet back into her heels, the pain in her arches didn't feel so bad. 

For all she knew, tomorrow night could be the start of her big break.

—————

The waning summer sunlight reflected off the silver sequins decorating (Y/N)'s dress as she drove to Misty's. With the open back of the garment, the cool leather of the seat pressed into her back. The feeling had her hearkening back to the last few times she'd worn this dress, to a handful of auditions she went on before realizing that agencies didn't really want to see a cocktail dress on a potential employee at ten a.m. The patent white leather of her thigh high boots squeaked as she shifted in her spot, her eyes peering through the windshield at each passing street sign marking the unfamiliar neighbourhood. 

Coming to a slow stop at the curb, (Y/N) checked the map she had splayed on the passenger seat and the note with Misty's address half a dozen times, comparing it to the powder blue house she pulled up in front of. Hopefully, she'd made it to the right house. 

Putting the car in park, fluffing her hair one more time, (Y/N) stepped out onto the warm pavement. The sunset reflected pink across the silver of her dress, warming her skin as if she were under the flashes of dozens of cameras. 

Scaling the driveway to Misty's home, she had her eyes on the door, catching the way the knob spun before (Y/N) even made it to the porch. Misty waved to someone behind her, the length of her hair swishing at her waist as she spun around to face (Y/N) with a bright smile. A rich red dress hugged her figure, the halter top neckline framing the slide of her neck and the cut towards her cleavage. Her heels clicked with every step she took over the concrete towards (Y/N), glimmering makeup sparking on her eyelids. 

Misty forged ahead, pulling (Y/N) in for a giddy hug that had her wobbly in her boots. "Hi! How are you? Are you excited? You look so pretty!" 

(Y/N) laughed at the onslaught of questions, falling in line with Misty as she headed towards the car parked at the curb. "I'm good—excited! You look really pretty, too, thank you! I've never seen your hair down like this." 

To make a show of it, she flipped a hand through her hair with a smile on her lips. "Tonight could be the night, (Y/N)—had to pull out all the stops." 

Laughing, she followed after Misty as she started towards the car. Misty's confidence was contagious, enough to spread to (Y/N) as she settled in behind the wheel, sliding a pair of sunglasses on the line of her nose. 

As they drove towards the hills, a map splayed out in Misty's lap, they had the windows cranked down with the radio up. (Y/N) couldn't help but to sing along with the selection going through her speakers, ranging from the croons from The Zombies to belting tones from The Supremes. 

She was going to a party in the Hollywood Hills! A party where, if she's lucky enough, she could end up on the billboards they were driving past. Even if that didn't happen, she would still be fulfilling a part of her dream when she moved out here in the first place—getting to see places she'd only ever seen in movies or on the glossy pages of her magazines. 

"What do you think it's going to be like?" (Y/N) asked, shouting over the whipping wind and beats from James Brown. 

"Hm?" Misty hummed, looking back from where she had been gazing out the window, "The party?" 

"Yeah. You said there'll be lots of music kinds of people, right? Do you think we'll see anyone we know?" 

Misty shrugged, a beaming smile. "Maybe—hopefully! Angelica called me this morning and said there's supposed to be a lot of executives, so I don't know if we'll see any singers, but we'll meet the people who made the singers! How exciting is that?!" 

(Y/N), even through fleeting glances, could spot the excitement in Misty's gaze. While modeling (maybe even movies, if she was lucky enough) was (Y/N)'s dream, she was more than okay with being there for Misty as they rubbed elbows with the people that made possible all the music they were listening to now. 

In between giving directions, Misty happily chattered away about all of the different hopes she had for the soiree. Outside, the sun sunk low in the sky before disappearing by the time they entered the hills. The world around them changed from the lengths of highway to the beachy suburbs of the coast, all the way until the Hollywood Hills surrounded them. With the windows up and the radio ticked down just enough, both she and Misty left their attention to the gorgeous homes that now popped up around them like clean white roses. Everything was made of strategic, precise lines, creamy and bright against all of the greenery planted around them. Cars she'd only seen in movies were parked outside the garages, painted in pale colors with chrome accents that gleamed under the waning light. 

The sight reminded her of the Saturday morning episodes of the Jetsons she used to catch back at home as a girl. Seeing nothing more than the structures, she felt as if she were already meeting a handful of celebrities. 

After a final set of directions muttered off by Misty, (Y/N) turned onto a long stretching street. Before, while the houses were modern and clean, these were nothing short of extravagant. They were much further spaced out, gates planted before the driveways with plenty of greenery to help give even more privacy to whoever lived behind the walls. 

"It should be on the left, I think," Misty muttered, her own gaze glossed out as she took in the homes around them. 

(Y/N) silently nodded her head, pushing her sunglasses to sit on the top of her head. Peering to the left, she didn't have to peek at the numbers posted on the gates to know what home was where the party was being hosted. It was the only building with bright lights peeking through the greenery, reflecting through the darkening sky. While the rest of the street seemed to be luxuriating in quiet privacy, this one was beaconing those around them to come closer. 

"This one?" (Y/N) asked, slowing as they approached the open driveway. 

"This one," Misty smiled, giddy in her seat. 

Turning in, (Y/N) found the biggest mansion she could have imagined to be shrouded behind the palms and draping vines planted along the perimeter. It was just as pristine as the others they'd seen before, new and perfect, but on a scale she couldn't imagine knowing what to do with. A dome thatched in glimmering bronze bisected the mansion, a large window cut out on what had to be the third floor of the home, showcasing a crystalline chandelier for all to see. Creamy lines made out the rest of the structure, cookie-cutter windows giving glimpses into the spaces inside. More greenery made its way closer to the structure in the form of pruned hedges, climbing flower bushes, and postcard perfect palm trees. 

The rumor of there being valet at this soiree had turned out to be complete truth as (Y/N) drove further up the drive. Her hands grew clammy around the wheel. 

"What do I do?" she rushed out to Misty, taking her foot off the gas to buy herself time. 

"What do you mean? What?" Misty answered, knocked out of her own admiration of the space.

"The valet," (Y/N) said, slightly panicked, "Are they actually going to take the car?" 

Misty seemed to finally notice the man clad in a simple black outfit stationed at the front dome, bored as he peered at the slowly approaching car on the drive. "Oh. I don't know. Do you keep the car on or just give them the keys?" 

"I don't know," (Y/N) parroted, words bubbling off as she ran out of time the closer they drew to the dome, "I've never done this before!"

Before either of them had a chance to attempt to thread together a game plan, (Y/N) heavily stepped on the brake, stopping them at the front door. The valet made no move to greet them, standing at his station with a pleasant expression on his face as he waited. With clumsy movements, (Y/N) pulls her keys out of the ignition, and plucked her purse from beside her feet. Misty followed with the same amount of haste, both of them practically stumbling out of the car towards the waiting valet that looked on with surprise raising his brows. 

"Hi," (Y/N) greeted, just barely remembering the sunglasses pinning her hair back on her head. She snatched them off, tucking them into her purse. 

"Good evening, ladies," the valet responded, taking in their stumble, "How are you?" 

"We're alright, thank you," Misty piped up, peering around the valet to get a peek into the home behind him, "And yourself?" 

"I'm doing swell myself, thank you," he beamed, holding a hand out expectantly towards (Y/N), "How do you know the host?"

While he had a pleasant smile on his face as he took her keys, (Y/N) was sure he was well aware of how little they fit in within this space. She couldn't blame him for assuming there was a chance they weren't supposed to be here, if their stumbling and her less than trendy car was anything to go by.

"We work with him," Misty piped up, clearly preferring to bypass the roundabout way that she knew the host through three different people. 

"Oh, yeah?" he prodded, brows bouncing above his eyes, "At the office or the studio?" 

"The office," Misty clarified without a second thought. 

The valet took her answer with a slow nod, palming (Y/N)'s keys before asking for her name and bidding them a good night once they were on the list. With that, he left the double doors behind him unattended. Misty grabbed (Y/N)'s hand who stumbled into step beside her, her gaze shot over her shoulder to watch as the valet took in the vast difference between her car and the others he'd already attended to throughout the night. 

Pushing through the double doors, (Y/N)'s expectations for the inside of this mansion were blown out of the water. One of a kind art canvases were hung up on the walls, beautifully crafted vases and sculptures displayed through the halls, along with the extravagant chandelier hanging above their heads. This place felt straight out of a movie, perfect like a Normal Rockwell painting. 

The deeper Misty walked them through the space, she took in the overflow of guests spread throughout the home. She'd never seen so many different sitting rooms, with so many different people. In the main space just off from the foyer was cleared out, leaving space for a bar being professionally tended and room for plenty of young women to dance along to the records spinning on the player with drinks in hand. Too many older men were placed along the perimeter doing nothing more than watching them. 

"Um," Misty started, voice raised high enough to be heard over the different radios and gramophones playing, "I'm going to try to find my friend and her sister, and the host, but you don't have to come with me if you want to get a drink." 

(Y/N) didn't have to think before she steeled her grip on Misty's hand. There was no way Misty was going to be able to lose her that quickly. "No, I'll go with you." 

"Are you sure?" Misty asked, bouncing her brows above her eyes.

(Y/N) gave a nod, shooting her friend a look with a glance towards the men prowling around the young women. Misty seemed to catch her drift then, more than alright with (Y/N) tagging along. 

While Misty was on the lookout for familiar faces, (Y/N) was happily pulled along with her curious gaze spread out to every branching hallway and living area. While the room with the women dancing around was the life of the soiree, there were other areas that looked as if they were board meetings plucked right out of the city complete with men dressed in suits, lounging with cigars in smoky rooms. Trays with food were being passed about in the hands of staff dressed in similar all black outfits as the valet out front. 

She barely had a chance to settle her eyes on a single person or scene before something just as bright and bold called her attention away. Misty surged forward with their hands still clasped until they reached the glass door leading to the backyard. 

If she had thought the inside of the mansion was wild, not even the drunken bar room had anything on the backyard. 

With a shimmering pool setting the scene, there seemed to be a rule that only the prettiest of attendees were allowed in the grassy space. It only took a pair of steps out onto the patio for (Y/N) to feel like she had never actually seen Los Angeles before this moment. Her mouth was set agape as Misty dragged her along, heading towards a grouping of men (Y/N) barely glanced at when there was so much else around to steal attention. 

A bar was stationed outside as well, though it looked much less professional than what was inside. Whoever wanted a drink was free to grab whatever, including the whole bottle if they so choose, with no one to bat an eye. More than a few people floated about the pool, some fully clothed while others were covered with only the help of the refractions glowing through the water. Drunken conversations were held between those about the lip of the pool, some wobbling close to the edge though they only laughed when the stumbles occurred. 

Everything appeared entirely too glamorous to be real. The women's hair was too perfect, the men too picturesque. This was what shindigs in the Hills were like? 

Suddenly Misty's voice piped up, having taken the straight to the grouping of businessmen she had eyed as soon as they made it out the door. "Hi! Mr. Vitacoma?" 

Facing forward, (Y/N) watched as a tall man with broad shoulders turned around to face Misty, brows in a pinch. "That's me," he started, eyes visibly brightening when he took in who exactly it was that had approached him, "How can I help you?" 

Misty's bright voice became a mumble as she introduced herself, and thanked this man for hosting the party. A conversation started, Mr. Vitacoma asking how exactly they were connected and how she'd found herself at his soiree. From what she was collecting, this man was some kind of executive at a record label, tonight's party being a "just because" occasion, and of course, he was so happy to have such a beautiful woman like Misty in attendance. 

(Y/N) was vaguely aware of Misty's voice pattering on with confidence, though her attention was stitched elsewhere. The men around Mr. Vitacoma had gone quiet, impressed with Misty's gall to have approached their group in the first place. It was interesting to see these men as suits, the kind running the studios and labels instead of those in front of the cameras and microphones. 

One of them in particular had (Y/N) flicking her eyes away more than once, his face almost too pretty to look at for longer than a moment before needing a break. 

His bone structure was sharp, jawline cutting with high cheekbones, a layer of stubble creeping up his cheeks. From his profile, his nose was a perfect straight line; cinnamon colored freckles were dusted over the bridge, faint under the lowlight. His hair came in textured waves of dark brown, playing off of the bright green hue of his eyes. His white button up was undone, displaying the white undershirt pasted to his torso. Just the faintest peeks of different tattoos bled through the thin fabric, including the tips of a chest piece peeking over the neckline of his tank. A small peach colored, paisley printed silk scarf was hanging around his neck, untied through the wrinkles in the material made it clear it had been knotted earlier in the night. A pair of black pants were belted around his hips with a shimmering pinstripe running through the garment, playing off the ambient lighting through the backyard.

(Y/N) couldn't keep herself from following the line of his form. Broad shoulders and strong chest gave way to a tapered waist, each block of muscle visible through the cling of the top. 

By the time she dared to flit her eyes back up to his face, (Y/N) had to blink back her shock at finding the green lilypads of his eyes already trained right on her. A small smile touched at the corner of his mouth, amusement sparking across his graze. 

Feeling her skin heating, she was suddenly too aware of herself. She hadn't meant to glaze her eyes all over him, let alone be caught doing just that. Flicking her gaze away on instinct towards Misty still schmoozing over her executive, (Y/N) shuffled in her spot, patent leather of her boots squeaking. Her hands suddenly felt too empty, especially feeling his eyes still warming the side of her face. She didn't think before she had her hand reaching for her hair, searching for some kind of flyaway or anything out of place to play with, just before her fingers collided with her forgotten sunglasses. If there wasn't already enough embarrassment coursing through her system, the fact she had left her accessory messily holding her hair back could have been enough to have her melting on the spot. 

It wasn't bad enough she was caught ogling a stranger, she also had to have stray pieces of hair standing straight up on her head while she was at it. 

Fumbling around, she plucked the sunglasses from the top of her head and made to shove them into her purse. A breathy laugh sounded, so quiet she wouldn't have heard it over all the noise had she not been hyper aware of the man standing only feet away from her. 

Peeking up through the stray baby hairs falling in her face, (Y/N) saw the man with the peach scarf looking at her with an amused smile on his face, dimples in his cheeks with his green irises bright. He bounced his brows above his eyes when he caught her gaze, gesturing down to her stumbling hands and fingerprint laden glasses with a tip of his chin. 

(Y/N)'s blood burned under the apples of her cheeks. She could only sheepishly shrug, a shy smile on her lips in hopes of looking more nonchalant than she clearly was. 

Another small laugh plumed from him. Her shoulders relaxed some when she realized he wasn't making a joke of her, merely quietly teasing her over something only the two of them know about. A small inside joke was being threaded between them in the middle of the patio. 

Stepping away from the congregation, the man made a step towards (Y/N). Her heartbeat picked up in her chest. It would only take a few of his long strides to close to space between them. 

"This is (Y/N)," Misty chirped, tugging her forward and away from the stranger that had taken her attention. "My sister bailed, and (Y/N) stepped up to come with me tonight. I wouldn't be here if she didn't agree to come out here." 

A slight daze had (Y/N)'s attention split between the present and moments before. She gave a placid smile to Misty's executive, offering a hand out for him to shake. "Nice to meet you. Mr. Vitacoma, right?" 

He flashed (Y/N) a bright smile, offering his own greeting she barely paid attention to. Pleasantries were exchanged then, forcing her to play along as to not ruin this for Misty, though (Y/N)'s mind was decidedly stitched elsewhere. With every plastered smile and feigned attentive nod of her head, she could feel someone's—his—eyes on her. 

If it wasn't disrespectful, she would have already disengaged from Mr. Vitacoma and given her attention back to the man with the peach scarf. As much as she warmed under his gaze, still feeling a bit of that embarrassment after being caught so obviously ogling him, she was thrilled to have seen him attempting to approach her. 

She hoped she hadn't lost her chance to hear what kind of voice a man like that held, and what it may sound like wrapped around her name. 

Hearing the beginnings of Misty's laugh, (Y/N) immediately joined in, having missed completely what she was laughing at but playing along anyway. Taking advantage of the moment, she turned her head just enough in hopes of catching sight of the peach scarf man from around Misty's back. 

But, he was gone. Even with his height, she was unable to catch even a single swirl of his brown hair among the sea of the other executives congregating around them. 

Before she had much of a chance to mourn the chance that had come and gone to know anything about this man, a scream sounding from beside the pool had her turning around. Misty and Mr. Vitacoma barely registered the noise, only offering fleeting glances in that direction before she was back to her half-flirting, half-schmoozing. (Y/N)'s jaw dropped when she saw what exactly had screeched beside the pool.

A woman with voluminous blonde hair and a drunken smile on her face had stripped down, her dress and undergarments sitting in a pile on the grass, and was running straight towards the pool. Those around the pool with drinks in their hands cheered her on, encouraging her just before she took a leap and splashed straight into the water. As soon as she surfaced, makeup running with her hair deflated and pasted her face, another round of raucous cheers cracked through the backyard. 

Flitting her eyes around, (Y/N) expected to see others sharing her shock. Instead, she found people either not paying attention at all or smiling on as if this was nothing more than the scheduled entertainment for the night. While (Y/N) wouldn't consider herself a complete prude (she'd seen a few French films over the years, and they were certainly not for the pearl-clutchers back home), but she couldn't believe no one shied away at the sight of the woman's naked body. Was there a memo that Misty forgot to let her in on? 

Nonetheless, (Y/N) found herself unable to pull her eyes from the commotion that was beginning over by the pool. It was as if the woman's display had been a gun firing off, signaling the start of the real party now that the sun had dipped and only the most fun remained for the rest of the festivities. 

Those that had previously been lounging by the pool started up with their own soirees, some downing the rest of the drinks they had their hands before stripping and joining the woman in the pool, or plain watching on with heated looks on their faces. Even some men dared to strip down and join in, giving (Y/N) a sight she'd truly never seen before with her eyes going wide. Some of the couples she'd seen before had turned their attention to one another, lips and tongues meeting with reckless abandon. Blatant sexuality was put on show among the low lighting and the moon sparkling above their heads. Despite being in Los Angeles for a little over nine months, she'd never seen anyone behave this openly, acting as if there was no one else around other than those they wanted to see. 

The most jarring came in the form of a trio—two women and one man—squeezed together on a pool lounger. The man had his arms around both of the women, but had his head bent towards one, kissing her with gusto. The other woman, skin a sparkling bronze with a thick headband holding back her curly hair, caressed her manicured hands across the lines of the redhead's body. The man didn't leave his other companion without, it appeared, his own brawny hand sliding down the cuff of her shoulder until it was dangling over the swell of her breast before brushing his fingers over where the peek had been hidden behind her dress. (Y/N) could spot the curly haired woman whispering something to the kissing pair, something quiet enough just for the three of them to hear just before the redhead smiled into the kisses though the man refused to break the contact and dove harder into the redhead's mouth. The curly haired woman looked at them with hooded eyes, eye shadow shimmering under the moonlight, as she reached out and combed her fingers through waves of red hair, fisting the strands back and out of her friend's face with a stiff tug. A blush touched the redhead's cheeks.

They moved as if they were on film. The touches from the curly-haired woman moved harmoniously with each caress from the redhead over the man's muscled chest, as if perfected from a script. A director could have been sat feet away, camera trained in their direction with the way every ideal angle was shown off to the rest of the party. (Y/N) wouldn't have been surprised if this whole night was nothing more than a setup for some magazine, a photographer waiting for the perfect moment before jumping out with a camera and the perfect lighting. 

As soon as the curly-haired woman leaned across the man's chest and pressed a lingering kiss to the redhead's shoulder, a hoot sounded from one of the other onlookers in the backyard. It was then that (Y/N) remembered she wasn't the only one here, the only one watching. She had been seeing something like an editorial photoshoot with these people—a bit scandalous of a subject, but nonetheless boundary pushing—but the sound of a cheering comment had brought her back to the present to see this for what it was.

The artistic, pretty filter she had seen the moment in vanished, leaving what was gearing up to be much raunchier of a scene than she was sure any of her French films had shown. 

Whipping her head away when the strap of the redhead's dress was pulled down, (Y/N) turned to see Misty and Mr. Vitacoma conversing with no indication that either of them cared to know what was going on behind their backs. 

"Mist," (Y/N) murmured, feeling only a little bad to be interrupting, "I'm going to go get a drink inside, okay?" 

Misty gave her a nod with a small smile. "Okay, I'll come find you later." 

With that, (Y/N) gave Misty and her executive a parting nod before scurrying away to head back inside, her eyes staying on her feet and nowhere near the pool. 

It was with a sigh of relief that (Y/N) closed the door behind herself. While there was much more commotion and bodies surrounding her inside the mansion, it was decidedly less pressure than whatever it was going on out there. Though she was alone this time around, which wasn't something she thought about until a group of men in suits passed her by, a few offering appreciative glances in her direction. 

This place seemed much bigger without Misty at her side. 

Meandering through the throngs of people and the puddles of liquor on the floor, (Y/N) wasn't sure where she was going, only that the closer she was to the backyard, the more clinging the atmosphere seemed to be. There were plenty of people around her, some with clear influence that she was sure she should have been using this opportunity to get to know, just like Misty brought her here for, but she continued on with no clear destination in mind. 

She didn't feel comfortable inserting herself in the cigar room, not when the men had poured out whiskey and the smoke had turned into something heavier. More faces littered the halls, getting more and more packed the darker the night grew. Sticking close to the walls, (Y/N) couldn't help the owlish blinks that fluttered her lashes as she took in the raucous patrons of the party. She was well aware of the parties and the night clubs that livened up downtown LA, but she never figured something like that could fit between the walls of someone's home. 

Inadvertently, she found herself approaching the first room she had Misty had spotted, full of women her age dancing and having fun with a bartender slinging drinks faster than the records spinning. While she wasn't exactly comfortable, this room felt a lot easier to wade through as opposed to the faux board meeting going on in the other with all of the smoking men. 

Keeping company with the fridges of the room, (Y/N) had the lingering thought that maybe she wasn't cut out for this kind of industry. Whether it be modeling or becoming a movie star, she figured she should be able to make conversation with practical strangers instead of marinating in her own excitement all by herself. A real model—a confident star—would have found the spotlight without hesitation and made a group of friends and connections that would land her somewhere even more glamorous than this mansion in the Hills. 

Instead, (Y/N) was stationed somewhere between the record player and the suede couch pushed against the walls, tucked out of the way and listening into the conglomeration of all of these conversations. 

Out of seemingly nowhere, a woman with towering dark hair and a sleek black dress entered her field of vision. She wore a bright smile and eyes that were a bit glossy, red veins spidering over her sclera. 

"Are you friends with Misty?!" she shouted, maybe a bit too loud even with the record player and sound system so close. 

Taken aback, a whiff of heavy liquor radiating from this girl's breath, (Y/N) gave a small nod. "Yeah, we work together." 

"That is so fun! I work with her sister, Angelica! Where is she?" The girl stumbled some on her heels, reaching out for (Y/N)'s shoulder to keep herself steady. 

"Angelica is seeing a friend tonight, so she couldn't make it," (Y/N) started, stifling her laughter over this woman's sudden friendship with her, "And, Misty's outside talking to some record label guy." 

Her mouth fell open, dark lashes fluttering. "Come hang out with me and my friends! You shouldn't be alone at a party like this! Oh my god, and you need a drink!" Every sentence tumbling out of this woman's mouth broadened (Y/N)'s smile. Other than some rowdy patrons at the restaurant, she wasn't around many drunk people, especially none this excitable. A gasp fell from her lips, stopping herself in her teetering heels with her hand clutched around (Y/N)'s shoulder. "Wait, what's your name?" 

"I'm (Y/N)," she smiled, "What's your name?" 

"Marguerite! Now, do you want to take shots or do you want an actual drink?" 

(Y/N) followed after Marguerite with a bubbling smile. She hoped she would be able to find her spotlight now. 

—————

Twirling in her boots, (Y/N) tossed her head back with her eyes closed. She could vaguely feel the condensation from the drink in her hand, glass slick in her hand. By the time she opened her eyes, dropping back into the moment with the group of women that had adopted her for the night, she couldn't figure out if the room was spinning because of her wiring or if it was her drinking. 

From working at the restaurant, and knowing enough bartenders through her journey of becoming known, she knew most bartenders tended to water drinks down to keep people coming for more and giving some hefty tips, but it didn't seem this man had received that memo. These cocktails were heavy, full of sour heat as soon as it touched her tongue before being doused out by the collection of juices and citrus mixed throughout. Initially, she had turned down taking shots with Marg and her friends, but she figured she could have just done that and made it to the same state she was currently in. 

But, that didn't matter. Anything from a couple of hours ago, no longer mattered. What mattered now was how each song she heard was now her favorite, every cocktail she tried was the best she'd ever had, and these girls were undoubtedly the best friends she'd ever had. (Y/N) was almost certain she'd never been this drunk before. 

A night of firsts, she figured; first networking opportunity she'd ever gone to, and the first time she'd been drunk enough that her heart and the record player in the corner were made of the same rhythms. 

She'd have to find her spotlight another time, it appeared. 

Suddenly, the weight of someone's hand settled on the small of her back. Seeing her friends—albeit a bit blurry—in front of her, she couldn't imagine who exactly would be comfortable enough to place their hands on her. 

Whirling around, the hem of her dress fluttering around her thighs, (Y/N) saw an unfamiliar face looking down at her. His hair was black like his suit, slicked back with enough product to make the strands appear wet. His eyes were just as dark and glassy, with the sclera full of red veins. 

It was a distant memory, from a version of herself that was sober and no longer here, (Y/N) remembered the men that had strategically placed themselves about the room in order to gain the perfect vantage point to watch the women drinking and socializing as if they were a show on the television set. None of them had been so bold to approach anyone yet, but it only took a quick glance towards Marg and the others to see this must have been a team effort, everyone a touch distracted by these unfamiliar men. 

"Hi, sweet thing," this man murmured, dipping his head unnecessarily close to her ear, "Having fun?" 

"Um—" 

"(Y/N)?" 

Snapping away from this man, (Y/N) clutched her drink. A breath of relief touched her lungs when she saw it was Misty who had called to her. She looked just as pristine as when they had arrived, dress still clinging to her form, hair perfectly straight without a strand out of place. (Y/N) doubted her lipstick was anywhere near as perfect as Misty's still was. 

"Mist! You're back!" (Y/N) cheered, grateful to be dismissing the man in favor of wrapping Misty in an enthusiastic hug. "Are you a singer now?!" 

Misty shot her a bubbling smile, the corners twitching as if she was trying not to be as happy as she currently felt. "I might be," she muttered, sheepish, "I have a meeting—a real one—with Mr. Vitacoma tomorrow morning. I need to get home so I can sleep at least a little before I head to the office." 

(Y/N) blinked, arms going limp around Misty. "Now?" 

"Yeah," Misty nodded, mind obviously elsewhere, "Do you have your stuff?" 

"Um," (Y/N) prattled, suddenly aware of her bag hanging from her elbow, "Yeah, but... I don't know, Mist. I'm kind of really drunk, I think." 

Misty seemed to suddenly take note of her friend's state and the cold drink in her hand. "Wait. How many drinks have you had?" 

"Three, I think," (Y/N) started, unwittingly beginning to sway to the new song that had started playing through the space, "But they're really strong." 

Fitting her bottom lip between her teeth, Misty's face twisted into worry. "You don't think you can drive, right now? It's almost two." 

Opening her mouth, (Y/N) felt like a guppy when she stood there and no words came. While she was far from sober, she was definitely beginning to feel the gravity of what Misty needed from her. She had a terribly exciting meeting set up for tomorrow morning, a real sit down with Mr. Vitacoma that would make her one of the voices etched into a vinyl. Misty had no idea how to drive, so (Y/N) needed to get her home before the sun started on the horizon. 

"I—um—hold on," she said, dropping her drink to sit on a random surface, "I think I need some air, and after that I can drive us home. Do you know if there's any food around?" 

Misty, working on one problem at a time, clutched (Y/N)'s hand and started towards the backyard. It was a deja vu moment, (Y/N) absently wondering what the grassy area had devolved into through the hours she had been inside. 

"Get some air, and I'll try to find some bread or something," Misty thought out loud, pushing open the glass door with their shoes clicking over the cement patio. 

The world spun a bit too fast for (Y/N) to catch anything going on around the pool, allowing her to simply follow after Misty as best she could in the boots that suddenly felt less than stable now that she wasn't dancing. Like a wobbly shadow, (Y/N) stayed close to Misty as she rounded to the side of the house, out of the way of the distant splashing and cheering from the pool. 

"Are you okay to stay right here?" Misty asked, stopping (Y/N) on a soft patch of grass between the main home and shed field with whatever it took to maintain lawns of this size. From here, she could spot the height of the trees that had welcomed them when they made it here hours earlier. 

(Y/N) nodded her head, sinking to sit down on the cool grass. "Where are you going?" 

Misty looked at her with wide eyes, bottom lip being chewed between her teeth. "To get you something to eat. And, water, probably." 

"Oh yeah," (Y/N) bubbled, a plume of laughter falling from her lips, "I'll be okay, I think." 

Her friend hesitated for a moment, steps starting and stopping with one more look at (Y/N) in the safety of the secluded space before starting off for the house. Left by herself with her bare legs laid in the cool blades of grass and the sky clear above her, (Y/N) took in deep breaths. 

Without smoke and thick humidity clogging the air, she was allowed a reprieve. Sitting here, she didn't feel all that drunk, but she doubted she would feel that stable if she made a move to stand up. Hopefully, whatever Misty found inside would help her get back on track, make it so she could have Misty home before the night had ended. 

Pulling her knees to her chest, (Y/N) tried to concentrate. She wanted her mind to slow, her gaze to even, and her body to feel like her own again. She couldn't drive like this, she knew, but Misty was relying on her. (Y/N) needed to figure out how to get this alcohol out of her system in record time. 

It was a frustrating goal, one she knew was going to be impossible to achieve when she couldn't get her gaze to focus on a miniscule chip in the white paint of the shed before her. Her gaze moved like the liquor that had sloshed in her glass inside. 

Was she going to have to drive like this? Would they even make it back if she did that? 

She hadn't realized her eyes had grown wet, tears puddling in her waterline until her sight ws that much more unreliable. She was frustrated and nervous, pressure coming from the fact that without a miracle, she was going to have to make sense of wavy lines while driving her friend home to prepare for the meeting of a lifetime. 

(She wasn't a perfect driver, anyway. She doubted she'd be much better when she wasn't one hundred percent sober). 

"Hey, are y'alright?" 

Whipping her head up, (Y/N) caught only a glimpse of the new guest of her spot before wincing. Moving the fast wasn't a good idea if she was working on getting her vision to quit swimming. 

"Y-Yeah, I'm fine," she stuttered, cracking her eyes open just enough to find the vague lines of who was standing before her, "I'm drunk." 

A breathy laugh filled the air. One (Y/N) knew—had been hyper aware of just hours ago. 

Blinking her eyes open, her vision having settled, she saw the man with the peach scarf. Right in front of her with the pretty green of his eyes trained on her, moonlight seeping through the swirls of his hair. 

He was British. Interesting. 

"Do y'want something to drink? It might be a good idea to eat something, too." The sharp planes of his face softened out, rounding with dimples in his cheeks and a kind smile curving his lips. 

"My friend, she's already grabbing so-something for me," she hiccuped, "You met her kind of; she was talking to your friend." 

Crouching to sit at her level, the man nodded his head. "She's something," he laughed, "Not many people come up to John like that. She has a meeting with him in the morning, right?" 

(Y/N) nodded her head, squinting when her vision when spiraling once more. "Yeah, so I need to drive her home, but I think I'm still drunk. She's getting me some water, and then we have to go." 

This man's reaction came in the form of a pinch settling between his brows, lips thinning. "She doesn't want to drive?" 

"She doesn't know how," (Y/N) clarified.

He didn't seem to like this extra information much more. His tone was gentle when he spoke again, everything softened in this accent she'd only ever heard on television. "I don't know if 's a good idea for y'to be driving tonight. Maybe, we can go inside and see if there's anywhere y'can sleep for the night." 

Reaching a broad hand out for her to take, he looked at her with encouraging eyes. (Y/N) shook her head. "I can't. She has that meeting in the morning and I have work tomorrow, we-we can't stay. I just need some water, and then I'll be okay." 

A heaved sigh fell from his lungs. "I don't think that's how it works, love." 

Before she could make heart eyes over the pet name he laid over her, (Y/N) saw a familiar form rounding behind her new friend. 

"(Y/N)? I've got your water. How are you feeling?" Stepping around the man with the peach scarf, Misty had water and what looked to be a glass of dry cereal in her hands. She gave a sidelong glance towards the man that was not there the last time she'd seen her friend. 

Lagging in response, (Y/N) blinked up at Misty. "I'm good—so much better! Let's go!" 

Just as she put on her performance with an attempt to get to her feet, her flimsy cover was blown as soon as she stumbled into Misty with her arms pinwheeling at her sides. With her hands full, Misty offered an arm towards (Y/N) to brace herself, but it was the man with the peach scarf that steadied her before she had a chance to fall flat on her face. He reached towards her, settling his palms on her shoulders with (Y/N) touching his chest over the thin material of his top. 

"(Y/N)!" Misty bubbled, eyes wide.

Blinking up at the man with her lashes fluttering around her uneven gaze, (Y/N) took in the sight of him with the moon acting as a halo behind his head. 

Was her mouth agape? Was she still touching him? Was she unbelievably drunk, or was the rest of the world a blur, except for him? 

"Are y'alright?" he murmured, concern dripping from his words. 

Back on earth, (Y/N) shook herself away from the man, their hands dropping to their sides though she swore she could still feel the creases of his palms and length of his fingers around her shoulders. 

"I'm fine, I'm fine," she insisted, turning her gaze towards Misty, "Sorry, just—hold on, I can take us home, just give me a second." 

Both Misty and the man gave her less than impressed looks. 

He was the first to move, looking towards Misty with a bounce to his brows. "Misty, right?" 

Despite (Y/N)'s clear favoring of him, Misty didn't knock the suspicious accusations from her eyes. "Yes. Why?" 

He shot her that dazzling smile, dimples and all. "I know y'have an appointment with John tomorrow morning, but she's not going to be well enough to drive tonight. It wouldn't be safe to head home before she's had a chance to sleep this off." 

Misty's shoulders dropped at the serious tone he served her. "But... I can't—We can't stay. I have to go home to get ready for that meeting, and she has to go to work." 

Pursing his lips, the man settled his hands on his hips as the gears in his head began to turn. "Where's home?" 

Even in her muddled head, (Y/N) could see the reluctance Misty held when she gave the general area they came from. 

He gave her a nod, lips still thinned. Peering through his lashes, he looked at Misty before offering a fleeting glance towards (Y/N). "I can take y'both home. I haven't had anything to drink tonight." 

Walls back up immediately, Misty gave an uncertain stare, brows pinched. She didn't have to say anything for man to start offering an alternative, (Y/N) letting out a plume of laughter. 

"Or, I can call a taxi? I can't guarantee anyone will be available, or how quick they'd make it out, but 'm more than happy to pay for it." Sincerity lit up his eyes. 

Misty didn't immediately have an answer, taking her turn to think over the direction the night had taken. The silence left (Y/N) a chance for the alcohol to wipe her own thoughts over the dilemma, her attention instead shifting to lay fully on the man that stood before her. 

Maybe it was the vodka shining in her eyes, but she swore something angelic began to shimmer from the edges of him. He really was so pretty, (Y/N) thought. Earlier hadn't just been the product of an excitable mind seeing a bunch of important people for the first time since her cross-country move, he really was gorgeous. 

Did he know that? Were enough people telling him that? Should she tell him? 

For the second time that night, she was caught staring at him. A twitching of a smile touched at the corner of his mouth, his eye dropping into a wink. 

She couldn't help herself, her own features brightening and molding into something giddy. She didn't need Misty to tell her what the best option was out of the two this man had presented, (Y/N) already had her favorite picked out. 

"You'd really t-take us home?" (Y/N) hiccuped through her smile, clasping her hands in front of her middle. 

"If that's what you'd prefer," he drawled, amusement dancing over his features as he took in her reaction. 

Before he could send a precursory glance towards Misty once more, (Y/N) piped up, "I prefer that! Please." 

A small plume of laughter fell from his lips at her outburst, Misty even taking a peek in her direction with a raised brow and half smile. 

"Please, Mist," (Y/N) pleaded, a bright smile on her face, "Isn't he so nice?"

Another small glance towards the man was given by Misty. "What's your name? I'm not getting in someone's car when I don't know their name." 

"'M Harry," he smiled, "And John is a good friend of mine, and he'd kill me if I messed up his schedule tomorrow by not getting you two home." 

"And, you're not crazy, right?" 

Another set of dimples touched his cheeks. "Not as far as I know." 

"Fine," Misty settled, "Thank you, Harry." 

"Thank you, Harry," (Y/N) parroted, a little too excitable.

Both Misty and Harry helped guide (Y/N)'s stumbling steps through the mansion, the water and cereal Misty grabbed for her being left behind as they made their way through the halls. More than once, she had the privilege of getting a touch from Harry's large hand on her arm or between her shoulder blades when her balance teetered.

He led them through the mansion and to the valet where a different attendant now stood at the station. Harry gave the man a small nod before taking them sharply away from the bank of cars that had been valeted out of the way, out of the way to a glossy forest green Cadillac. 

(Y/N) gaped in awe. She'd seen plenty of nice cars while living out here, but she'd never thought anyone actually drove them—not anyone real, like Harry, anyway. 

Harry made to stand by the passenger side, holding open the back door for them to slip inside. "This is yours?" she asked, "Like, you drive it and everything?" 

"I do, yeah. Like it?" 

"The color is really pretty," (Y/N) shared, holding back the detail that it reminded her of the flecks of darker hues in his eyes. 

"Thank you," he smiled.

Misty guided (Y/N) into the backseat then, following in to sit beside her a moment later. An amused look was on her friend's face. "You're a flirty drunk, huh?" 

"Am I?" (Y/N) bubbled. Was it terribly obvious she thought Harry was pretty?

"A little," Misty laughed just as Harry took his own spot behind the wheel. "But, it's alright. It's good for you—you don't do it enough." 

"Jus' straight home, right ladies?" 

"Yes, please." Misty reached ahead where a folded map was sitting on the bench of the passenger seat. "Do you want me to give directions?" 

Harry shrugged off the offer, "I think I've got it. Y'jus' keep an eye on her." 

Looking forward, into the rearview mirror, (Y/N) caught Harry's eyes on her, creases touching the corners as a smile spread over his lips. 

—————

"Bye, Mist. Call me tomorrow, please. I want to know how your meeting goes." 

"I will," Misty murmured, giving (Y/N) a tired hug before she started inching towards the door, "When you get home, eat something and have some water before you go to sleep. And take off your makeup." 

As much as (Y/N) wanted to stick to Misty's instructions, she knew herself well enough to know that those words had gone right through her. Nonetheless, she nodded her head. "Okay. Love you." 

"Love you, too." Pushing the door open, Misty took a glance over her shoulder towards Harry in the front seat, who was fiddling with the radio dials on the dashboard. "Thank you for driving us home, Harry. I'm happy you aren't crazy." 

"Me too," he smiled, turning to face her, "'M happy I could get y'home safely. Let me walk y'up." 

(Y/N) watched as Harry escorted her friend up to her front door, giving her a perfect view of all of the lines of his body. Being cramped up in his car almost made her forget the full length of his height. As if there wasn't enough she would be thinking about once she was at her apartment. 

Taking his seat back in the front seat once Misty was inside safely, Harry turned to look at (Y/N) over the bench seat. "Wanna sit up here with me? Or are y'comfortable back there?" 

She didn't even have to think before she was scrambling to make her new spot at his side. "I wanna sit with you." 

Although she'd never thought of herself as particularly funny, Harry seemed to think she was hilarious. Everything she said drew a laugh out of him. 

Nonetheless, she hopped out of the backseat and found her new spot up in the passenger side of the bench seat beside Harry. Turning the key in the ignition, he pulled away from the curb of Misty's house before shooting a quick glance towards (Y/N).

"Want to find some music for us? I can only listen to the same advertisements so many times, you know," Harry prompted, nodding to the radio with a dip of his chin. 

"The McDonald's one is the worst," (Y/N) bubbled, reaching over to play with the dials, "It's always on." 

Harry agreed with a hum, following the directions Misty had given before she left for the night to head towards (Y/N)'s apartment. "What kind of music do y'like?" 

"Anything fun," (Y/N) offered, shooting him a bright smile, "But, I really love The Zombies right now." 

Perking up at her words, Harry glanced at her as he came to a stop sign. "The Zombies? What's your favorite song?" 

(Y/N) couldn't help the bubbling of conversation that sprouted from her lips then, the radio dials left behind in favor of talking with Harry. He was the perfect listener, even while he was carefully getting her home, she didn't doubt he was listening in. More than once, she wasn't sure if he was only being kind given the fact she was bubbly with alcohol, but he encouraged her ramblings, feeding her his own opinions and asking her what she thought. (Y/N) could have stayed curled up in this space for much longer than the short ten minutes between her apartment and Misty's home. 

By the time he pulled up to her apartment building, (Y/N) almost wanted to pout. 

Only the hum of the engine sounded as he paused in his seat, pulling his wallet from the pocket of his trousers. Casualy, he thumbed through the bills he had ticked inside the leather, grabbing more than (Y/N) would make in tips even during a busy Friday night shift at the restaurant. He passed the wad off to her.

"Use this to take a taxi to get your car tomorrow," Harry instructed, giving her a soft smile, "I know y'didn't really plan on leaving it overnight, so I'd like to take care of the drive back for you." 

(Y/N) hesitated. "Are you sure? That's kind of a lot." 

He shrugged, "'S my fault y'left it. I don't mind." 

Gingerly, she pulled the cash out of his hand. "Are you going to be there tomorrow?" 

"Probably not," he smiled, another laugh from his lungs. 

Juxtaposing his amusement, the beginnings of a pout touched her lips. "So, I won't see you again." 

"Not tomorrow," he clarified, raising a brow, "But, maybe soon." 

Just like he did for Misty, Harry walked (Y/N) up to the door of her building, keeping her from stumbling up the stairs that led to the glass door. 

"You're alright to get up by yourself, or do y'want me to go with you?" 

As much as she would have liked to get him to spend a handful of minutes more with her, (Y/N) shook her head. He'd done a lot for her tonight already. "I'll be okay, but thank you. For everything tonight. You kind of saved the day for Misty. 

"'S easier this way," he smiled, "And much more fun than trying to kick people out of the house with John doing nothing to help." 

"Is he your best friend?" (Y/N) asked, stalling a bit despite her better judgment. 

"A little," Harry said, lifting his shoulders in a shrug, "But he definitely doesn't have as good of taste in music as y'do." 

Much like the first time she spotted him this evening, (Y/N) felt her skin warm at his words. "If you get a chance to listen to that album, let me know what you think." 

"I definitely will, love. But, you've got to get to bed first." 

"Right," she said, attempting to sober up with a nod, "Thank you again." 

"Of course, (Y/N). Goodnight." 

Harry waited until she was safely inside, where she went on to practically float up the stairs with the sound of his accent wrapped around her name echoing in her head. Now in the quiet of her apartment, among her things, the bubbling excitement she'd felt throughout the evening simmered down to a dreamy haze. 

She'd had one of the most fun nights she'd had since moving to the city, and it ended with her being taken care of by one of the most beautiful men she'd ever seen. After tugging off her boots, she pulled out the cash he'd given her, counting out the abundant amount of bills he'd passed off to her. Thumbing through them, she stopped when she reached the middle of the wad, where a thick white business card was tucked between. 

Separating the cash from the card, (Y/N) flipped it over to find black script printed over the paper. 

Harry Styles. 

She didn't even try to bite back the wide smile touching her lips.

—————

brigitte bardot, model, actress, and singer; a timeless icon of the 60's

ahhhhh! so happy to finally share this little part of bardot with you guys! once again this is a patreon exclusive with every part after this one only being available on my page! thank u sm for reading, sorry for any mistakes, and if you have any fun ideas please send them in!!!

[flowerandblood]

Congrats on the milestone! For the celebration:

The Gate of Salvation

😇🍁🌞🦄🙀🌺🌼

The Salvation

[ young pope • Aemond x catholic • female ]

[ prompts: church, autumn, day, wedding, surprise, tender gestures, soft lovemaking ]

A short written as a celebration of my 4000 followers milestone as part of this ask game, which is part of The Gate of Salvation story.

Word Count: 1.700

_____

She had never before seen him as terrified as he was on their wedding day: he had been crying for days, convinced that something would happen to ruin this beautiful moment for them, only to panic a second later that he was condemning her to damnation and hell. She herself did not believe that love, on top of being bound by marriage before God, could be a sin, moreover worthy of such punishment.

Her words reassured him.

For a while.

His abdication as Pope was a turning point for them – immediately after he resigned from the priestly state he proposed to her the same day, demanding that they marry as soon as possible.

Her uncle, Cardinal Reene, had been elected by the conclave as the new Pope.

She thought he was the right man in the right place, able to play this dark, dangerous game.

The positive side of her uncle's new position was that he was deciding what was a sin and what was not, and benefiting most from her future husband's abdication, he gave them absolution and dispensation, announcing that he himself would marry them in a church in a small village near Rome.

This was to ensure that no one would find out about their past or seek information about them in the Vatican archives – it was most important to them that his identity – or at least his appearance – remained unknown to the public.

No one but Sister Alicent knew about her fiancé's past – she had lied to her family that they had met at the University where he was studying theology – which was not a lie, as indeed, he had graduated with honours in that subject.

She had the impression that he was going to faint when he squeezed her father's hand, hearing from him that he was surprised by such a sudden turn of events.

Her mother asked her if she had been too hasty with her decision, but she replied that it had been just the opposite.

Since they had obtained absolution, even though they lived in the same flat, her fiancé had insisted that they sleep in separate rooms – he knew that if he felt her warm body next to his he would not hold back, and he wanted everything to be as it should be.

They both suffered from this, full of tension and desire – she could feel in his short, light kisses when they met in the kitchen in the morning how frustrated he was, struggling to hide his swollen erection from her.

Trying to divert their thoughts from how much they missed each other physically, they focused on finding a new purpose in his life – for obvious reasons, her husband-to-be was lost.

He had spent most of his life in a monastery, then in a seminary, and then as a priest and cardinal in the Vatican – isolated from the outside world, he was terrified of the behaviour and appearance of people on the street, and a simple train ride from one village to another was something he found complicated, requiring effort and willpower.

He was afraid of strangers – afraid that they would recognise him, see him for who he was, although it was not possible – among crowds he would sometimes panic and lock himself in, simply freezing in the middle of the street, unable to move.

He asked her a lot of questions, as if he were a small child.

"Why do young girls dress in such a defiant way? Why do they let others see their bare bodies? Why does someone listen to music loudly on public transport and disturb others? Why does someone crumple books in a shop? Why did someone throw a paper on the ground instead of putting it in the bin?"

Seeing evil at every turn aroused his anger, but also his horror, and she realised that he would not be able to stand the hustle and bustle of a big city like Rome.

She decided that they would move out to the countryside.

As it turned out, this was the right solution – they rented a small house with a garden, overlooking the vineyards and pastures stretching all around, and her fiancé found peace. The isolation from the world had a soothing effect on him – they walked in the evenings and talked about faith, about art, about life, about their marriage, about their future.

Her future husband revealed to her that he wanted to help others.

To create some kind of foundation.

Finances were not a problem for them – her uncle had set their monthly income covered by the Vatican's coffers so high that they didn't know what to do with the money: that's why they used it as best they could, living modestly, the rest dedicating to helping those in need.

On the day of their wedding, they hadn't seen each other since the morning – her fiancé had convinced her that he couldn't look at her until she appeared at the altar with her father. She agreed, although hearing through the door that he was crying again, torn by conflicting emotions, she felt like her heart was about to break.

He had given up his life for her, everything he knew, everything that was familiar, safe, his.

"Just a few more hours." She assured him in a whisper.

She swallowed hard as he slid his hand under the door and she squeezed his fingers, wanting to give him courage.

When she saw him in the church, she had the impression that he was an angel – like her, he was dressed all in white – she smiled softly as she looked at his white turtleneck, white jacket, white trousers, white shoes, white rose tucked into his pocket, almost white short hair pulled elegantly back, a white artificial eye in his empty eye socket.

She pressed her lips together, as he did, feeling burning tears of emotion as she moved forward with her father, dressed in a simple, modest wedding gown with a garland of daisies on her head, holding a bouquet of field flowers in her hand.

She smiled broadly as she stood before him and saw that he reciprocated her expression, a single, lonely tear running down his cheek.

He was happy.

She vaguely remembered the moment when they spoke their vows and her uncle the Pope gave them his blessing, uniting them as husband and wife for eternity.

The way he kissed her greedily in front of everyone when it was announced aloud that they were married made her blush, making the wonderful squeeze between her thighs unbearable.

Her husband couldn't even last until the wedding cake – he said he needed her help with the jacket. She didn't understand what he meant, as it looked perfectly normal – it wasn't until the door of the hotel room, located above the wedding hall, closed behind them that she recognised his true plans.

She only sighed, surprised, when he pushed her onto the bed, pulling the fabric of her gown up, breathing heavily, as if he had made some enormous effort by waiting for so long.

She nodded her head in understanding and reached out to him, letting him lie between her thighs – as soon as he pulled her underwear off her they both moaned loudly, feeling him open her on the widest part of his length – he did it slowly and gently, sliding deeper and deeper into her soft, warm body, knowing that she wasn't properly prepared yet.

"– does it hurt? –" He exhaled, his face sunk into her plump cheek, his hands clenched on her thighs – she could feel him throbbing hard and she knew he was doing everything he could to not yet come inside her.

Admittedly, she felt a slight discomfort, but not so much that she couldn't enjoy the pleasure of this sudden act – on the contrary, her heart was pounding like mad in delight.

"– n-no – a few of your thrusts and I'll be wet – it's okay –" She whispered in his ear and he cried out loudly, clamping his hands on her buttocks, starting to pound into her like crazy. She bit her lower lip, trying to be quiet and not moan too loudly, which was difficult when he hit the sweet spot inside her every time.

"– Aemond – ah –" She mewled, throwing her head back, crossing her legs over his body – she could feel how much he needed it, how hard he was.

She knew he wouldn't be able to hold out for too long.

He hadn't touched himself at all, suffering the agony for weeks just like she did.

"– please – please –" He babbled, as if asking her permission – he groaned lowly as her pussy squeezed his swollen manhood at his words, sucking it in with a quiet clicks of her moisture, slapping his bare hips against hers with each successive thrust.

Her fulfilment was still a long way off, but she didn't have the heart to torture him any longer.

She knew he would reward her later that same night.

"– shhh – just come inside me, sweet husband –" She whispered, and he sighed, as if surprised by the use of the word, something he thought he would never hear.

His peak was so strong that he gasped loudly and clenched his eyes shut, with a few messy, sloppy thrusts trying to prolong his pleasure, his warm seed spilling deep inside her.

He fell on top of her, panting heavily, and she smiled under her breath, stroking his hair affectionately.

At last they were one.

Husband and wife.

"– forgive me – forgive me for being so selfish –" He muttered in breaking voice, his half-soft manhood still pulsing deep inside her.

She sighed quietly and shook her head, placing a tender, warm kiss on his temple.

"– no – I'm happy – we'll finish this later – we have to go downstairs now – someone has to cut that bloody cake –" She giggled, looking at him with amusement.

Her husband stroked her cheek, gazing at her as if she were the saint from Bernini's Baroque sculpture to which he had so often compared her.

Her portrait as Mary Magdalene hung in their bedroom and she flushed every time she looked at it, remembering what he had done to her to get such a blissful expression on her face.

"You are my Eve," he said, snapping her out of her reverie, "my Mary Magdalene, my Beloved from the Song of Songs."

She smiled broadly at his words, her hand combing through his short, fair hair.

"And you are my Salvation."

[pandapetals]

That Boy Is Mine

logan howlett x !reader - angst, logan liking jean, happy ending, feelings hurt, no y/n used, no reader description

Logan sleeps in your bed most nights but ignores you in the daytime. You grow tired of it and make him realize Jean will never want him back.

read on Ao3

Logan slept in your bed most nights, his body warm against yours in the quiet hours of the dark, but come daylight, it was like you didn’t exist. He’d slip out before you woke up, his presence gone as if he was never there. He spent his days avoiding you, acting like the time spent tangled together under the sheets meant nothing once the sun came up.

At first, you didn’t care. It was just casual—no strings, no expectations. You’d agreed to it, after all. It was better than being alone, and Logan... well, he was impossible to ignore. Strong, confident, untouchable in that rugged way that drew you in before you even realized what was happening. So, when he came to you those nights, needing a release from whatever demons haunted him, you let him in, telling yourself it was just physical. Nothing more.

Lately, it had started to feel different. He’d slip into bed, press his lips to your skin, and you’d catch yourself wanting to stay wrapped up in that moment, to pretend like you weren’t just another temporary escape for him. He’d hold you tight while you both drifted off, his breath steady in the silence and for a few fleeting hours, it felt like you were more than just someone to pass the time with.

Then came the mornings. The cold, indifferent distance. His eyes couldn’t quite meet yours when you passed in the hallway, or worse—when they did, and they held nothing. Like you were invisible.

What made it harder to swallow was the way his gaze always found her.

Jean.

You could see it, even when he thought no one was looking. The way Logan’s face softened whenever Jean entered the room, the small, hopeful smile that tugged at his lips despite the way she politely brushed him off every time. His eyes lingered on her as if she were some unreachable star, glowing far out of his reach, but still drawing him in like gravity itself.

It stung more than you wanted to admit.

You’d see him light up around her, his posture just a bit more relaxed, his smile a little warmer. It was undeniable—the longing in his eyes, the way he tracked her movements with a kind of silent reverence. Jean... well, Jean was Jean. Perfect, composed, the object of every man’s desire at the mansion but she was also devoted to Scott. Everyone knew that. Everyone except Logan, apparently.

The worst part was that Jean didn’t want him. Not in the way he wanted her. Sure, she smiled back, but it was always the smile of a friend, nothing more. It was clear she wasn’t interested, but Logan, in his stubborn, headstrong way, couldn’t—or wouldn’t—see that.

And you? You were just there, stuck in the middle, letting yourself be used as a distraction, knowing that when it came to daylight, his mind wasn’t on you. It was on her.

At first, you told yourself it didn’t matter. What you had with Logan wasn’t supposed to be serious. Just something to fill the emptiness. After months of it—months of him sneaking into your bed when the nights grew too quiet, only to vanish come morning, months of watching him chase after Jean with that hopeful look in his eyes—you realized you were tired.

Tired of being the backup. Tired of pretending it didn’t hurt.

You were tired of being used.

One evening, you found yourself in the kitchen, absently stirring a cup of tea while your mind churned with thoughts of Logan. You hadn’t seen him since the night before, when he’d slipped into your bed after a long mission, his touch gentle but distant, as if his mind was already elsewhere.

The door swung open, and your heart instinctively skipped a beat, your fingers tightening around the mug when you saw Logan walk in. He wasn’t alone.

Jean was with him.

Your stomach twisted, and before you could turn away, Logan’s gaze met yours for the briefest moment. Instead of the usual emptiness, there was something else in his eyes—a flicker of acknowledgment. Maybe even guilt. He quickly turned his attention back to Jean, cracking some joke that you couldn’t quite make out over the rushing sound in your ears.

You clenched your jaw, forcing yourself to look away as they spoke in hushed tones, their laughter a quiet undercurrent that felt sharper than any rejection you’d ever known. Jean smiled at something he said, that effortless, friendly smile that she gave to everyone, and Logan, as always, lit up in response.

It was infuriating.

You had to bite your lip to stop the words from spilling out, but your emotions were already bubbling dangerously close to the surface.

Enough.

You set your mug down a little harder than you intended, the ceramic clinking sharply against the counter. Logan’s head snapped up, his attention finally breaking from Jean as his eyes found yours again. This time, you didn’t look away.

He knew. He could see it in your face, in the way you stood just a little too rigid, the frustration practically radiating off you. He could feel the tension in the air, thick and heavy between the three of you.

Without thinking, you took a step forward, your voice low but firm, unable to hold it in any longer. “Logan, we need to talk.”

Jean glanced between the two of you, sensing the change in the atmosphere. “I’ll... leave you to it,” she said softly, clearly not wanting to get caught in whatever was brewing. With a polite nod, she excused herself, leaving you and Logan standing alone in the suddenly too-quiet kitchen.

Logan looked at you, his brow furrowed, a hint of confusion in his eyes. “What’s this about?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest as if bracing for whatever you were about to say.

You took a deep breath, trying to keep your voice steady. “I’m tired, Logan.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Yeah? Tired of what?”

Your jaw clenched, and before you could stop yourself, the words tumbled out. “Tired of being your backup plan.”

That seemed to hit him. His arms dropped to his sides, and for the first time in months, he looked genuinely taken aback. “What the hell are you talkin’ about?”

You let out a bitter laugh, shaking your head. “You know exactly what I’m talking about, Logan. You come to me when you need something—when you need me—but the rest of the time, you act like I don’t exist. You think I don’t see the way you look at Jean?”

Logan’s face darkened at that, but you pressed on.

“I’m tired of pretending it doesn’t matter, tired of acting like I’m okay with just being your side option while you chase after someone who doesn’t even want you.”

“I—” he started, but you held up a hand to stop him.

“Don’t,” you said sharply, your voice shaking slightly now, your emotions finally breaking free. “You don’t get to stand there and act like it’s nothing. Because maybe it was nothing at first, but now? It’s not. Not for me.”

Logan stared at you, his expression unreadable for a moment, and you couldn’t tell if he was angry, guilty, or something in between. His jaw clenched, and for the first time, you saw the cracks in his usually impenetrable armor.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, his voice rough, “I didn’t... I didn’t mean for it to be like this.”

You crossed your arms, feeling the weight of his words settling heavily on your shoulders. “Then what was it, Logan? What did you mean for it to be?”

He let out a slow breath, running a hand through his messy hair, clearly struggling to find the right words. “I don’t know,” he admitted finally, his voice low. “It’s not that simple.”

You scoffed, the frustration bubbling up again. “It’s not that complicated either. Either I matter, or I don’t.”

Logan’s eyes met yours, and for a long moment, neither of you spoke. There was something raw in his gaze, something that told you he wasn’t as unaffected as he pretended to be. But still, there was a distance—like part of him was still holding on to something, to her.

“Jean doesn’t want you,” you said softly, the words cutting through the silence like a blade. “She never did. You know that, don’t you?”

Logan flinched, his jaw tightening again, but he didn’t deny it.

You took a shaky breath, your voice barely above a whisper now. “You could have something real, Logan. Something that isn’t just a distraction or a replacement. But you need to figure out what you want.”

The weight of your words hung in the air between you, heavy with the unspoken question: Was this ever more than just convenience?

Logan’s eyes searched yours, and for the first time, you saw it—the uncertainty, the conflict. The walls he’d built around himself were crumbling, piece by piece.

Whether he’d let them fall was a choice only he could make.

The silence between you and Logan stretched on, thick with tension. His eyes were stormy now, locked on yours, but you couldn't tell if he was angry or just conflicted. Maybe both. The quiet was suffocating, and you had to break it before it swallowed you whole.

“Well?” you pressed, unable to keep the sharpness out of your voice. “Do I even matter to you, Logan, or am I just someone to fill the space when you can’t have Jean?”

His expression darkened at that, and you knew you’d hit a nerve. “It’s not like that,” he muttered, voice low, but there was a tremor of frustration in it.

“Then tell me what it is like,” you demanded, stepping closer, your anger bubbling over. “Because it sure as hell feels like I’m just a substitute. And I’m done being second place.”

Logan’s fists clenched at his sides, his jaw flexing as he ground his teeth together. For a moment, you thought he might explode, that his anger would boil over into a full-blown fight. But instead, he exhaled sharply, his voice strained but quieter. “You think I don’t care about you?”

The question caught you off guard, your breath hitching in your throat. You opened your mouth to answer, but the words got stuck, tangled up in the confusion and frustration swirling inside you.

Logan took a step closer, his presence towering, his eyes hard but filled with something more than just anger now. “You think I don’t care about you?” he repeated, his voice rough, a bit desperate now. “I come to you because I know you’ll take me as I am. I come to you because you’re—” He broke off, running a hand through his hair in frustration as if he couldn’t find the right words. “You’re the only one who sees me.”

You blinked, the sting of his words hitting deeper than expected. “Then why do you look at her like she’s the one who matters?”

Logan’s face twisted in frustration, his fists tightening again, his knuckles white. “Because I thought... I thought maybe she could make me feel like I used to, before all this shit—before everything went to hell.” He shook his head, his voice dropping. “But she can’t. I know that now.”

Your heart raced as you processed what he was saying. It was raw and unfiltered, and it made you realize that Logan was more conflicted than you ever gave him credit for. That didn’t change the fact that you had been left in the middle of it all—waiting for him to figure it out while you got used along the way.

“Logan,” you whispered, your voice trembling, “I’m not asking you to choose between us. There’s nothing to choose. She’s never been yours to have.”

He let out a breath like it was the hardest thing he’d had to hear, but he didn’t argue. His eyes flickered with something you hadn’t seen before—regret, maybe, or the realization that he’d been holding onto a fantasy that wasn’t real.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. “You have to stop looking at her like she’s the answer to whatever you’re searching for. Because she isn’t. She never was.”

Logan’s shoulders sagged slightly, the weight of your words sinking in. He turned his gaze away from you, staring at the floor for a long, tense moment as if the cracks in his armor were starting to show.

And then, suddenly, he spoke again, his voice low and almost vulnerable. “I didn’t know I was hurting you. I thought...” He paused, his brows furrowing. “I thought we had an understanding.”

You bit your lip, feeling the tension in your chest grow tighter. “We did. At first. But I can’t keep doing this, Logan. I can’t keep pretending that this is enough when you’re still hung up on someone who doesn’t want you.”

He flinched at that, his jaw working as if he was trying to swallow his pride, but the flicker of pain in his eyes told you he knew you were right.

“I don’t want to be your distraction,” you said softly, your voice finally breaking as the emotions you’d kept bottled up spilled out. “I want to matter.”

The room fell silent again, the weight of your words sinking in. You weren’t sure what to expect—if he’d walk away if he’d try to argue again, if he’d shut down completely. But instead, Logan stepped closer, his hand hovering near your arm like he wasn’t sure whether or not you’d let him touch you.

“You do matter,” he said, his voice low, rough around the edges. “You matter more than you think.”

For a second, you couldn’t breathe. You searched his face, trying to find any hint that he wasn’t being honest, but there was nothing but sincerity in his eyes.

“I’ve screwed this up,” Logan continued, his hand finally resting on your arm, the warmth of his touch steady but tentative. “I know I have. And I don’t blame you if you’re done with me. But... if you give me a chance—if you give us a chance—I’ll make it right.”

You blinked, not expecting the sudden shift, not expecting the raw vulnerability that was written across his face. Logan, the man who never apologized, the man who never seemed to care what anyone thought, was standing in front of you, admitting he’d screwed up and asking for another chance.

You wanted to stay angry. You wanted to hold onto the hurt and the frustration that had built up over the months but as you stood there, staring into his eyes, you realized that somewhere along the way, you’d started caring about him more than you’d wanted to admit. Maybe you always had.

There was a long pause, and the tension between you was still heavy but different now. Softer. Uncertain.

Finally, you let out a breath, your anger starting to unravel just a bit. “Logan,” you said, your voice quieter now, “I don’t want to be your backup plan. I don’t want to be your second choice.”

His hand tightened gently on your arm, his eyes locking onto yours. “You’re not. Not anymore.”

The words were simple, but they hit deep, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you believed him.

You looked at him for a moment longer, then slowly, carefully, you reached up and rested your hand on top of his, feeling the roughness of his skin against yours. “Alright,” you said softly, almost like a whisper. “But you need to show me, Logan. Words aren’t enough.”

Logan’s lips twitched into a small, almost shy smile—something you weren’t used to seeing on his face. “I will.”

The tension between you seemed to dissolve then, replaced by something warmer, something real. You weren’t entirely sure what the future held, but for the first time, it felt like there was a possibility of something more—something honest, something that didn’t leave you feeling like you were second best.

Logan pulled you into his arms, holding you close, and you let him. His embrace was firm and steady, but there was a gentleness in the way he held you, as if he was afraid you might slip away if he wasn’t careful.

“You’re not getting rid of me that easily, you know,” he murmured against your hair, his voice soft but teasing.

You smiled into his chest, letting the warmth of the moment wash over you. “I’m not trying to,” you replied, your voice matching his light tone.

For the first time in months, you felt the weight of everything lift, replaced by something softer—something you hadn’t allowed yourself to feel with Logan until now.

Maybe this could work. Maybe you could be more than just someone he turned to in the middle of the night.

As Logan held you close, his hand gently running up and down your back, you allowed yourself to hope that, for once, things might finally fall into place.

[whateverisbeautiful]

♥️Reveling in Richonne - TOWL

#62: The Happy Beginning (1.06)

gif cred: @andy-clutterbuck

Richonne got their much-deserved happy ending, and better yet, I adore that Richonne and their children's happy ending is really a happy beginning. 🥹

Because now, the everyday life with their family truly starts. So rather than feeling solely like a closed chapter, the story lands on a hopeful and positive note that feels like “...and so it begins." The life Rick and Michonne always wanted to live together can now begin again.

So while it’s also a perfect final note for us as we (seemingly) no longer get to go with them into the next chapters, I appreciate that we always get to know that there are more bright and hopeful chapters for our Grimes family, together at last 🙌🏽🎉...

I announced these RIR-TOWL posts on July 21st and now they conclude today, September 21st. And I’m super grateful to you all for reliving this TOWL experience with me in-depth for the last 62 days of summer. 🥹🙏🏽

As you can see, saying I have a novels-worth of thoughts on this show was not hyperbolic. 😅 And that's because if this is it, I wanted to go as all out as I could. And because Danai, Andy, & Scott gave their all in creating this love letter to Richonne, I especially wanted to give my all in dissecting, reflecting, and reveling in The One Who Live. If only those three could know how grateful I am to them for this show because it really was a beacon of light during this time in my life. ☀️

In this real world, I’d say love matters most. It’s what makes life worth living to find people and things you love. Love in its many forms, including in fiction, is worth celebrating and enjoying to the fullest.

So that’s really what I’ve tried to do with all these posts over all these years - celebrate one of my favorite ways I’ve ever seen love take shape. It’s been a joy to watch two beautiful characters inside and out depicting the most beautiful love. Falling in love never looked so exquisite. And finding family never felt so rewarding. 😌

And we're finishing strong as we talk about TOWL's final moment where Rick and Michonne embrace the beautiful family they created. 🥹

So - still hugging, Judith and Rick look over at Michonne and RJ. And on top of it being surreal to see Judith grown up now, you can tell for Rick it’s extra surreal to be looking at this little boy who's comprised of him and Michonne and dressed like Carl. 😭

gif cred: @twdfranchise

That’s something that’s also really cool, is after going on this journey of losing and then regaining the image of Carl, Rick now gets to see this child who is Carl’s little brother and has his attributes. And just like Carl always wore Rick’s sheriff hat to feel close to his dad and strong like his dad, Rick gets to see that his youngest son has also done the same. 

I love that Judith looks at her mom and gives her her flowers saying, “You got him back.” It was a hefty task but Michonne pulled it off and brought home the Brave Man just like she set out to do. And I love how you can tell Judith is very proud of her mom for that.

gif cred: @twdfranchise

Then it's so sweet seeing Michonne smile at Judith and say, “You told me to.” Best mom/daughter duo, y’all. 😭 Plus, TOWL said let us give the viewers one more reminder that Judith wanted her mom to go find their dad. Like this was never an act of abandonment, going after Rick was Michonne’s daughter’s request.

I like how Michonne saying this also feels like she’s saying that knowing her daughter believed she should go was part of the fuel to do it. She did it for her daughter. And for her son. And for her husband. And for herself. For all of them. And Michonne’s giving Judith her flowers too for the way she gave her the push she needed to go get him. 

gif cred: @twdfranchise

I love the way Rick is holding one kid and Michonne is holding the other. You know these four are about to be pretty inseparable for a while.

And then you can visibly see the moment they all realize that the time has come for Rick Sr. to meet Rick Jr. 

gif cred: @twdfranchise

Rick looks at RJ who is smiling up at him while holding onto his mom and then, Michonne has such a happy and proud expression as she presents RJ to his dad.

Michonne definitely has such a sweet “look at this life we made” vibe as she holds onto RJ and steps to the side for the two to have their moment.

It’s sweet how RJ seems understandably reserved at first and holds onto his mom until the last second. And then I love seeing Michonne still keep a comforting arm on her son as Rick stands before him. 

Any time I’d picture Rick and RJ’s first interaction, I always pictured one of the first things RJ would note is that this man in front of him is The Brave Man - and sure enough😊. RJ looks up at Rick and the first thing he sweetly says to his dad is, “You’re The Brave Man?” 

gif cred: @riickgrimes

This moment is surreal for Rick, and surreal for me too because we're finally seeing a scene with Rick and RJ, the son he created with Michonne. 🙌🏽😭 And I'm so so happy that Rick was able to come into RJ's life while he's still so young. Rick will get to have an active role in RJ's core childhood and adolescent memories now.

Then, I adore Rick’s response to his son's first words to him. He’s immediately emotional and so he takes a breath and instantly looks right over at Michonne - the mother of his child. 🥹

I love the way you see him again find his center when looking at her during this emotional moment. Michonne really is like the glue between them all in this scene. And I like how she has her arms wrapped around one or more of her children at all times during this reunion. 

There’s just so much communicated in Rick’s look over at Michonne. It was another "Baby, we made a baby" moment between them as you can see it truly hitting Rick that he's meeting the son he made with his soulmate.

gif cred: @riickgrimes

After Michonne had reassured Rick that he really is the Brave Man that his kids believe him to be along their journey home, I love that Rick now gets to hear it directly from the source. 

Rick then looks back at RJ with so much emotion etched on his face as he responds, “I am.” 😭 He doubted if he was the Brave Man before, but I think especially now hearing his little mini-me say it, Rick knows he too can believe that’s who he is.

gif cred: @riickgrimes

And then I love the way Michonne again expresses how highly she views Rick as she says her final line of TOWL, looking to RJ while holding onto Judith as she smiles and says, “He is.” 🥹

It’s fitting for Michonne's last line to again be one that expresses her utmost belief in Rick. She wants her son to know that this father in front of him really is The Brave Man from years ago and still is The Brave Man right here and now. In fact, now more than ever. 

gif cred: @riickgrimes

RJ smiles over at his mom and then looks back up at Rick just adorably beaming. And it really feels like he’s meeting his hero.

gif cred: @riickgrimes

And then it is precious beyond words when Rick adjusts RJ’s hat just like he’d do with Carl. 🥹

gif cred: @riickgrimes

Rick then leans down and places a hand on RJ's shoulder just like he’d do with Carl too. And I love that Rick is so seamlessly back in father mode.

(Side note: It hit me that Rick will now get to have bonding moments of telling RJ stories about his big brother 😭)

I adore this hat moment between Rick and RJ for so many reasons but especially because we were introduced to Rick Grimes in that hat from the very beginning of TWD. And after going on this years-long whirlwind journey with him, it is so extremely special that Rick's final scene includes him getting to see that hat on his youngest son after it was such a staple to him and his eldest son. 🥲

Rick securing the hat on RJ's head really felt like he wanted his son to know how proud he feels to see him carrying on this Grimes heirloom.

And then Rick so tenderly says, “But maybe you can call me Dad.” 😭😭😭😭😭😭

gif cred: @riickgrimes

I love that Rick is so ready and eager to be a dad to his son. And I just know he and RJ will have such an incredible bond. Like Judith and Carl definitely felt like true blue Michonners lol, and RJ is too, but I also like to think RJ’s going to end up really gravitating to Rick. I can fully envision them being a super close father and son. 🥰

Then RJ says with certainty, “I knew you’d come back.” And I love the framing of this scene where you can see all four family members in the shot as they look at the youngest member of the Grimes.

It’s so sweet the way Michonne and Judith are holding each other tight and the way Rick has that fatherly hand on RJ’s shoulders as he looks right at him, likely still marveling that he’s looking at his own flesh and blood right now. 

gif cred: @ricksmarlene

And when RJ says he knew Rick would come back, they all look curious about how the adorable baby of the family knew this. So Rick says his final line of TOWL as he asks RJ, “How?”

Y'all, I love that this is what Rick says for his last line because again, it makes me think of the end of season 4 - the pivotal era when Richonne fell in love with each other - and the classic scene where Michonne says she knows Rick's okay and he asks her "How?"

And just like back then when Michonne gave a beautiful answer to Rick's question and said, "Cause I'm okay too," - Their baby boy RJ also has a beautiful answer to Rick's question.

RJ replies with the final line of TOWL, saying, “I believed.” 

The sentiment of RJ revealing that he too was believing a little longer this whole time is so special. 🥹 And it's touching that Rick and Michonne's son gets the last line of this epic love story.

gif cred: @riickgrimes

RJ saying 'I believed' is beautiful because he’s what his parents believed in for the future all those years ago and now his mom and dad get to hear that he believed in them back.

It’s heartwarming thinking first Rick had to believe a little longer that he’d reunite with his family, and then Michonne had to believe a little longer that Rick would reunite with their family, and then they get to see that even the child they created was believing right along with them. A child born from their belief.

As two characters fueled by believing, it really is powerful to see the final note being Rick and Michonne's son doing just that - believing his dad would find his way back to their family. That's the very mission Rick went on since the pilot of this franchise, and his story ends with him succeeding. Rick found his family and isn't going to be taken away from them this time. 🥹

gif cred: @riickgrimes

Rick seems deeply moved to hear his son say this and so he has this emotional smile at him and you can tell he so badly wants to finally hug his son. But again he lets RJ set the pace. And RJ sets the pace perfectly with the best hug. 😭

I adore the way this little boy hugs his dad for the first time. It just was so moving and so clear that he’s been wishing to be able to have his dad in his life for a long time. He needed his father and now here Rick is. 🥲 And Rick wanted this child long ago and now here RJ is.

Seeing Rick finally getting to hold his son, his 'other way to build for the future,' - it's clear Rick needed this too. 🥹

gif cred: @nat111love

Rick really is RJ's hero already, so RJ embraces him fully. And, of course, Rick is immediately reciprocal as he embraces his son and kisses his hat. 😭

I think about how Rick gave Carl that hat after he'd been shot in the woods. Giving Carl the hat was one of the ways Rick aimed to comfort his son during an extremely trying time. And then Carl wore that hat everywhere after. And when he died, it was hard for Rick to even look at the hat. But now the hat has become a positive symbol again as Rick gets to kiss the hat on his youngest son and honor the memory of his oldest son.

It’s so evident Rick and RJ already love each other. And I applaud both actors for only having one hug to show how much they love each other and pulling it off so completely. This Rick and RJ hug is everything, truly. 🥹🙌🏽

I love the way the theme music swells and rises as Rick and RJ stay in that heartfelt embrace, never wanting to let go. And I love Michonne and Judith’s reaction to seeing these boys finally get to meet and appear so instantly bonded. Rick's family means everything to him and in this scene, he gets to see that he means everything to them too. 🥹

gif cred: @andy-clutterbuck

Judith’s emotional response to seeing her little brother meet and hug their dad always puts a lump in my throat. 🥲 Again, it was the perfect big sister-type response. She’s probably felt like a stand-in mom for RJ while Michonne was gone and has been really protective of him and just again wants to know he’s okay. And it’s like in this reunion moment she’s aware that her baby brother really will be okay because now RJ gets to experience a family with both his parents, like she did when she was younger.

And Michonne just seems so happy to see her husband and son be so instantly connected. It has to be the greatest feeling ever to know that this baby she brought into this world alone will now have his father who adores him in his life.

And to see the love of her life, who she knows has been through so much, including the loss of Carl, get to now embrace his son and be a father to their kids again like he most cherished and was devoted to being. 🥹 Michonne so earnestly wanted Rick to have the chance to see the beautiful family they created. And now Rick is seeing it fully. And that visibly brings Michonne's heart pure joy. 

gif cred: @kris-lulu

So then, after Rick and RJ get their own moment with this wonderful hug, Michonne and Judith join in for a family group hug and it’s just the epitome of a joyous conclusion for Rick and Michonne and the Grimes family’s story. I adore it. 🙌🏽

Michonne and Judith wrap their arms around Rick and RJ and Michonne and Rick share their final sweet and super married-with-kids kiss. I love the way Michonne smiles as they lean in for the kiss. 😊 And the way Rick of course doesn't stop at one as he leans in for the second kiss. 😋

It's great that after over 100 TOWL kisses they still included one more. It's only right to end the show with a kiss since, again, it's canonically one of Rick and Michonne's absolute favorite things. 😊

gif cred: @riickgrimes

This last kiss is really special because it just again feels like Rick and Michonne having a moment to acknowledge that despite all the odds and obstacles over their many years in TWD, their many years apart, and then on their TOWL journey reuniting - they overcame, fell in the deepest love, and created this beautiful family together.

And now they get to live out their lives with this blissful Grimes family, loving on each other as hard as they can while they can. 🙌🏽

This family hug is just such a sweet moment of connection. I adore the way it’s filmed where it feels like Rick is holding his family and his family is holding him back. The shot with all three of their arms on Rick’s back is art. After a long and epic journey, these three are Rick Grimes' incredible reward. 🥹

(Side note: one of the things I think Rick probably will most like about Michonne's wedding ring is that it can be seen from a very far distance which means everyone from even miles away will know Michonne is taken lol.)

And then we get one more confirmation that Richonne are and always have been magnets. 🧲 Because as the camera pans out from the greatest family hug in history, Rick and Michonne both lower their arms down at the exact same time and do that little comforting thumb rub. You know my extra self is always here for even the subtlest of magnetic synchronicity between the two.

Y'all, this really is the perfect visual to conclude their story to me. 🥹

gif cred: @lousolversons

Like seeing Michonne with her wedding ring-clad hand holding onto RJ while he holds onto his dad and Judith holds onto her and Rick, fills me with joy and emotion when I think about Michonne's whole journey.

Losing a partner and a young son, Mike and Andre, shutting down and living isolated for a while, showing up to a prison with formula for her future daughter Judith, building such a special bond with her son Carl, falling in love with her soulmate Rick, becoming a great leader, and resiliently bringing another son into the world, RJ. She's been through a lot on her journey and I adore how love and family found her and wholly embraced her as she fully embraced them right back.

Michonne Grimes' journey ending with her wrapping her arms around her babies and husband is just beautiful. 🥹🙌🏽

I also love that Judith and RJ will now get to experience their mom having the love of her life back in her life. The kids will see their mom happier and more loved than they’ve ever seen her now that Rick is back with them.

The Michonne they knew was one who was resiliently trying to live in the thick of a unique, lonely, and crippling grief. But now she can be all of her again because her other half has returned and is fully prepared to make up for lost time and love on her and their kids the way they all need.

gif cred: @nerd4music

And seeing Rick be so loved and held by his family after everything in his journey means the world. 🥹

Waking up from a coma to learn the world had ended, refusing to succumb to defeat as he searched for his family, finding the people closest to him from the world before, Carl, Lori, and Shane, and then having to put together that Lori and Shane had fallen for one another in his brief absence. Experiencing the relationship with Lori and Shane crumble and result in death (one of which he had to kill because his 'brother' tried to kill and replace him), going through a mental breakdown but still having to lead, protect, and raise his young son and his newborn Judith.

Then, meeting the love of his life Michonne when she shows up at the prison fence, trying to have opposition with her at first but then falling head over heels in love with her, and no longer having to carry the weight of the world alone because now he has a soulmate who can lead him, lead others, love his children, and love him back to life time and time again. Losing his son Carl twice, realizing his son and family were always with him, and then getting to look in the eyes of his youngest son and finally hold RJ.

Along his journey, Rick endured many opponents, adversity, and painful losses, including losing himself when stripped of his family for nearly a decade. He had many fascinating arcs, many ups and downs, and managed to keep his signature good kind heart intact which is true strength. And no matter who thought they were bigger, better, or badder than him, Rick always proved to be the bravest. And it's the love for his family that made him brave and made him ultimately come out on top.

So Rick Grimes' journey ending with his wife, daughter, and youngest son back in his arms and loving him like he never left is just perfect. 😭🙌🏽

gif cred: @riickgrimes

That final image of the four of them in this family hug amid the lush greenery truly looks like the embodiment of ‘things break but they can still grow.’ And this whole new plant - this wonderful family Richonne grew - is so well-deserved. Rick and Michonne truly triumphed.🎉

I think about how in 9.03 the song that played over their Family Fun Day with Judith was "All We Ever Wanted Was Everything" and seeing the Grimes family hugging and happy at the end of TOWL is all I ever wanted for them. 🥹

(That's part of why my stance on the future is - whatever it looks like, be it Richonne returning in a quick cameo, or returning for even more than that, or not returning at all, I just want Richonne and their kids to be happy, together, and at peace).

Also, I’m telling you right now, from here on out if Rick can’t get to someone named Michonne, Judith, or RJ within 5 minutes or less, he’s going to feel he’s gone too far away because you know he’s about to be attached to the hip to his family. 😊

I really feel like Rick is going to live out his life just healthily & happily obsessed with his wife and kids and so deeply grateful to Michonne every time he looks at their family and the life they have. Like the way he stays giving Michonne her flowers, you know he’s never going to forget that it was her fighting for him and their kids that allowed them to live out this beautiful life they have now.

As the camera pans out, the four stay in this embrace and it’s just such a bright and rewarding shot. Then they show the sky as helicopters are seen flying ahead, no longer with bombs but with resources. As people noted, Richonne would be the type to not just bring themselves back home but bring back whole helicopters with loads of valuable resources too. Baddest to ever do it. 👑

Seeing the sky with those helicopters is a reminder that the world has gotten a lot bigger since those early TWD days. And after having everything but the kitchen sink thrown their way along their path, here Richonne stand, with their son and daughter, happy, healed, and whole because they’re the ones who live and the ones whose love lives on forever. 

And while this might be the end for us getting to follow their story, I again appreciate that Richonne's story closes with not just a happy ending but a happy beginning. The best years are ahead of them now that they get to all be together. And you know this gorgeous family uniting makes Carl beam from ear to ear up above. 😇

Oh and there’s also that deleted Grimes family picnic scene which is a canon moment to me. And I adore it. 🤩 I’d been hoping they’d return to doing those lovely family picnics so I was glad they filmed one. Also, it makes me so happy to remember that RJ is a part of both this current Family Fun Day picnic and the precious one from years before. 😊

In this unaired TOWL picnic scene, I love seeing Judith laughing and relishing Mom and Dad being back with them like she always believed they’d be. She grew up on these Family Fun Day picnics and now years later she gets to enjoy them again. 🥲

I love seeing intelligent little RJ holding the Rubik's cube and wearing the signature Grimes Sherrif's hat in between his mom and sister. And I especially love seeing RJ already seem so comfortable and smiley with Rick. (I love how they said the young actor Antony really gravitated to Andy. 🥹 This picnic clip definitely gave a glimpse of that)

I love seeing Michonne wearing that pretty and colorful dress and smiling so brightly with her family reunited. The flowy outfit choice is meaningful to me because, at the top of TOWL, she was given this guarded armor and similarly had to live with figurative guarded armor since Rick’s TWD departure. But now that she’s got her loving husband and kids back she gets to just fully take down all armor and be so free, open, safe, and loved as a woman, wife, and mother. 🙌🏽

And I love seeing Rick look so relaxed, playful, and elated to be here with his wife and kids. He looks like he's once again winning that Husband & Dad of the Year title. And the way he’s smiling and laughing basking in this moment, you can see he adores his family so much. This Grimes family moment is everything Rick and Michonne wanted for their lives. And this is everything I wanted for them too. 🥹

gif cred: @nessawakenobi

In the actual TOWL ending, as they panned out from the Grimes family hug, it doesn’t feel like they're becoming distant from us but rather we’re seeing the full picture and letting the Grimes family love fill the entire space.

And as the Grimes family embraces and fills the screen with love, the music rises and the show fades to black, officially concluding The One’s Who Live. 👏🏽😭 BEAUTIFUL. 

That also concludes the TOWL season finale revelings and The Ones Who Live revelings as a whole. We made it! 🥳 What a series. What a journey. What a gift Richonne is. 🥹

You know I gotta happy dance one more time over Richonne, TOWL, and the epic love story we've been blessed to witness from 2012 when Michonne and Rick's paths first crossed to 2024 when their love story reached its highest heights, and concluded perfectly.

If you had told me when I started documenting my Richonne observations back in 2017 that years later there would be a whole miniseries dedicated to Richonne’s epic love story, I would have been pleasantly surprised but I’d also believe you because Richonne is truly the gift that keeps on giving. 🎁

I adore how TOWL really came and checked so many of the Richonne wishlist boxes. Rick calling Michonne his wife ✓, the proposal and wedding ring ✓, the RJ reveal ✓, the improved lighting ✓, the scenes with impactful, unvague, and rich dialogue ✓, the intimacy ✓, the Grimes family reunion ✓, the Grimes family reunion with all the original actors ✓, and much more. They gave Richonne their things, honey. 👏🏽😌

And I especially love the way The Ones Who Live ultimately landed on a message of love being what comes to the rescue when the world falls apart. Love is what it's all about at the end of the day.

Along their years-long journey, the way Richonne fell in love was beautiful. And the way they stayed in love was just as beautiful. I’m so grateful to have witnessed Rick and Michonne Grimes' powerful journey from first locking eyes at a prison fence in season 3 to looking into each other's eyes with such adoration and appreciation as they agreed to have a child together in season 9. To now reuniting with that lovely child and their dear daughter in TOWL.

Rick and Michonne have remained such captivating characters over the years, and so much of that has to do with the incredible artists that bring them to life.

Andy and Danai are generational talents with such compatible gifts - exceptional eye acting, line delivery, vulnerability, physicality, and raw honesty infused in their craft. And then you add to that playing compelling characters in love, allowing them to tap into their rare and extraordinary chemistry. You’re bound to get something special when pairing them together like this. 👏🏽

So I'm grateful to the whole TOWL cast & crew, and most of all the captains - Andy, Danai, and Scott. We really got to see Richonne through their eyes with TOWL. 🥹 And the way those three view Richonne and bring this love story to life is resplendent. I love that with The Ones Who Live they told the story they wanted to tell - and we Richonne fans were just happily in alignment with the vision. 😌

They’re the type who put thought into even something like Rick and Michonne's hand placement in bed at the end of TWD 6.10 because they care about how Richonne is portrayed in every frame. And I will forever appreciate their attention to detail with Richonne. All these RiR posts really are my way of saying that the thought and care put into crafting these exceptional characters and their exemplary love story don't go unnoticed.

Andy and Danai have given us so much as Rick and Michonne over the years so whether this is 'goodbye for good' or 'goodbye for now,' I respect it.

The iconic roles of Rick and Michonne were truly meant for them. Danai and Andy approached these characters with love, respect, thoughtfulness, and passion, and ensured Rick and Michonne were in good hands. So I just can't thank them enough. 🙏🏽🥹

Also, a big thank you to the gifted Richonne GIF creators. 👏🏽🤩 You are invaluable staples to this fandom and your gifs of Richonne's TOWL & TWD moments are beautiful. Linking to your amazing gifs helped me elevate these posts and string this all together. My posts wouldn't be the same without you, so I'm very grateful to you. 🙏🏽

And sincerely thank you to everyone who took the time to read these posts and to everyone who commented, messaged, PM'd, reblogged, and followed. Your thoughtful insights, reactions, and support really have always made the days brighter both over the last two months and over all these years of reveling in Richonne.

Hearing your takes on Richonne helped me see things from an even fuller perspective. Hearing that these breakdowns were looked forward to and even uplifting to read during hard times really moved me and made me feel less alone since reflecting on Richonne has also helped me focus on the bright things in this world when life feels dark. I've loved hearing what you love about TOWL and about these RiR posts. Thank you for sharing with me. 🫶🏽 Your words of encouragement have meant a lot to this Words of Affirmation girl. 😊

There were times when I was working away at these posts and wondering if I'm certifiably crazy for writing whole 'dissertations' on every second of Richonne's love story. 😅 (i think the answer is yes lol). But the encouragement I'd receive over here was a big motivator to follow through, give every scene its flowers, and share these in-depth breakdowns with you all. So please know that you and your good kind heart are super appreciated. 🙏🏽 I hope you remain blessed in all ways and on all days. 💗

And to Future Me - hi 👋🏽 I wrote these TOWL novel-length breakdowns for the fandom and for you too. For those times when you’ll want to make your day a bit better by revisiting these posts and remembering all the thoughts and elation you had over Richonne - your favorite thing - shining the brightest it’s ever shined in a 6-episode epic love story. 🌟

Rick and Michonne Grimes and their captivating story are extremely dear to my heart and always will be. And this miniseries that gave them and their love the spotlight means so much. The Ones Who Live is a true treasure, and I’m so glad we’ll have it forever. 🥹🙌🏽

After hundreds of 'dissertations' and years of pursuing a Ph.D in Richonne (😋📚🎓), I just have to say that breaking down the beginning, middle, and end of this epic love story with this fun and insightful fandom has been such a joy. Has me feeling like...

There will be people who come around to watching TWD/TOWL now or years later who weren’t keeping up with the show when it first aired. And some of those people are bound to get bit with the Richonne bug just like I did several years ago.

So my hope is that anyone, be it new Richonners or long-time Richonners, whoever wants to reminisce and revel and relive each and every moment of Rick and Michonne’s iconic, powerful, and stunning journey can always come back to these RiR breakdowns whenever, and feel like they’re 'read-watching' the show, and dissecting and celebrating whatever is beautiful about Richonne with a good friend. Because Richonne is timeless and a little reveling is good for the soul.

I hope these plenty of posts brought and continue to bring enjoyment, insight, laughs, light, and just the best warm feelings because in the words of my beloved Michonne - It did for me. 😌

Always and forever, thank you so much for reading & Long Live Richonne. 👑🧲🥰👌🏽

[hajimesh]

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ ‐skyfall. suguru geto

part two. sunset (him)

⥅word c. 2,656

⥅warnings. suguru's pov, heavy angst, main character death, mentions of drinking and smoking, depressed suguru, hurt/comfort (?)

𝄢♭turning page ‐ sleeping at last / let her go ‐ passenger

Suguru will never forget the morning you came back to him. He distinctly remembers it was right after a slow night at the bar, the air felt chiller than usual, and the streets were too quiet. He couldn’t wait to get home, already dreaming of his bed and the leftover pizza from two nights ago.

But the sleep vanished as soon as he saw you sitting by the window.

At first, he thought someone had broken into his place until he realized it was you, which scared him even more than the thought of a thief. As soon as he heard your voice, it was as if he felt everything and nothing all at once—it also made him realize he had started to forget the sound of it without noticing.

It was the sight of your cheeky smile, the little wave as you teased him like you used to, that got him out of his stupor. Suddenly, he was on a high, something he hadn’t felt in months.

Gone was the tiredness from working all night as he ran up the stairs to the apartment while his heart beat wildly against his rib cage. However, nothing could’ve prepared him for the sight that awaited him: sitting by the window, the curtains blew behind you as the sky shone with pinks and lilacs, clouds that looked like cotton floating in it. But even such beautiful scenery couldn’t compare to the sight of you, your beauty or the gentle smile on your face.

“Fuck, I missed you,” he felt his soul come back to his body as soon as he had you in his arms. The feel of your fingers carding through his hair immediately relaxed him, your voice soothing the dull pain that had settled deep in his heart.

He feared his heart would not make it through that morning, your presence and laugh — god, how he had missed your laugh — more than enough of a threat to his battered heart. 

That morning, Suguru Geto came back to life after living like a zombie for three months without you, the pain pushed to the back of his mind as he only focused on loving you.

—

He often wondered if he should quit his job, it messed up with his sleeping schedule and mood. But that bar was where he first met you, he still remembered how you walked up to him to order a round of drinks for your friends, and by the end of the night you had left right after saving your number in his phone.

Somehow, it felt wrong to leave a place that held such beautiful memories.

“You’ll be late for work,” he heard you say, light kisses covering his face as they traveled from his lips to his jaw before focusing on his cheeks.

He could tell it was dark outside, which meant that yes, he was most definitely running late. But he was a prisoner of your kisses, he would be out of his mind to push you away.

“Shower with me.”

Suguru was enraptured the whole time, watching the water dripping down your body as you sang each song that played from the speaker you had in the bathroom. The only thing that could stop you were his lips, kissing you nonstop until he had to physically hold you so you wouldn't fall to your knees. 

At that moment, he felt like he fell in love with you all over again.

He really didn't want to leave, but if you were there with him, then it meant that everything was back to normal. It made sense, right?

“See you at sunrise!”

And when he saw you by the window the next day, and the day after that, suddenly he was looking forward to each morning, hoping to see you sitting by the window where you belonged. 

The world could end tomorrow, and he wouldn’t care. As long as he had you by his side, nothing could ruin his happiness.

The rush hour was at its peak, college kids flooding the small bar on a Friday night—finals were over, so Suguru kind of expected it. After all, it was something he used to do just a few years ago.

He worked as fast as he could, lining up the shot glasses and filling them with liquor so Satoru could take them to the right table. It had become part of their routine, both men realizing that they worked well together after two days of being on the same shift.

Satoru placed his elbows on the counter and leaned forward, squinted eyes staring suspiciously at Suguru.

“You seem… livelier,” he paused, “chirpier?”

Shrugging, Suguru continued pouring drinks, “why wouldn’t I be?”

Still looking at him weirdly, Satoru dropped the subject once the raven-haired handed him another round of drinks, turning on his heel and continuing to work—he could always ask him later.

Meanwhile, Suguru’s mind strayed to your conversation from earlier that day. It had been two weeks since you were back, and it was impossible to get you out of his mind. Before he could stop it, he was smiling at the memory, his heart fluttered at the thought of spending all of your weekends cuddling and watching movies. He hoped that one day, a little version of you both could join the tradition.

At that point, he couldn’t hide his smile.

With a push of his hips, Satoru tried to snap him out of his daydream, signaling with his head to the girl that stood in front of him. 

Suguru stared at her, she seemed familiar, but it wasn’t until she reminded him of her name that he remembered who she was: an old classmate from high school. They had dated briefly during their senior year before he met you.

“I haven't seen you since we graduated,” she smiled at him, “I never thought I would find you here of all places!”

The atmosphere felt awkward, it was as if an elephant sat in the room and everyone could see it but him. He didn’t like that feeling one bit.

“Yeah, I work here.”

The girl hummed and shot Satoru a polite smile, her long nails tapping loudly against the granite.

“I-I was actually wondering if,” she paused, looking bashful as she switched her weight from one heel to the other, “we could go for a cup of coffee one of these days? You know, like, to catch up?”  

Suguru instantly tensed up, “catch up?”

“Yeah! Uhm… like a date?”

He never liked it when people put him on the spot, both Satoru’s and the girl’s eyes set on him as they waited for his answer.

“Sorry, but I have a girlfriend,” he offered her an awkward smile.

Satoru sighed dramatically, wrapping an arm around Suguru’s shoulders and pulling him against his side.

“I don't think she’ll mind,” he winked at Suguru before turning to look at the confused girl, “he’d love to go on a date with you!”

Pushing him away, Suguru looked at him in disgust, “are you out of your mind?”

Both men were too busy staring at the other down to hear the girl excuse herself and leave.

Satoru scoffed, “I should be the one asking you that.”

“The fuck you mean by that!?” Suguru was fuming by now, attracting the interest of a few patrons that happened to witness everything.

“Hey, hey!” a third voice intervened, Nanami placing himself between them, “you two need to calm down.”

Suguru ignored the recently hired waiter, continuing to stare down at his best friend. There was no way he was going to stand there and let him treat you like that. 

“I asked you a question: what the hell was that!?”

“Sorry for trying to get you a date with a cute girl,” Satoru said sarcastically, “one date won’t hurt, and you know it.”

Fed up with his words, Suguru pushed Nanami to the side and stepped closer to whom he had to call his best and closest friend. He had had enough of Satoru’s shit. 

“Disrespect my girl again, and I'll forget you’re like a brother to me.”

With a sneer, Satoru reciprocated the look.

“Suit yourself.”

—

They barely talked again for the rest of the night.

Suguru could feel a migraine coming, the faint palpitations at the back of his head increasing as the minutes passed. All he wanted was his shift to be over, so he could go back to your arms.

He took the trash outside, staying there a few minutes as he leaned against the wall. His lips wrapped around the cigarette as he took a long drag, and unconsciously began to smile once he noticed the sky starting to lighten. 

The sound of the door opening and closing took him out of his daydream.

“Spill,” Satoru stood before him, arms folded in front of his chest with a serious look that Suguru hadn’t seen in weeks, “what’s up with you.”

“I have nothing to say to you.”

“Don’t you dare push me away again,” the white-haired jabbed a finger on his chest, “you were finally recovering, and what? You’re letting her control your life again?”

“I would watch my mouth if I were you,” Suguru warned him, his features hardening again, “and she isn’t controlling anything.”

Groaning, Satoru ran a hand down his face, “when are you going to get it through your thick skull?!” 

“Get what!?”

After stepping on the cigarette, Suguru started making his way inside, getting tired of Satoru’s complaints. Only to stop abruptly once he heard him speak again, his blood turning cold. 

“That your girlfriend is dead.”

Suguru never believed in those weird conspiracy theories that Satoru liked to feed him, and even years later, he still managed to come up with the craziest stories.

He believed there's a rational explanation for everything, not entirely a man of science, but if you could prove what you said, then he had no reason to doubt.

Every rational thought told him it couldn’t be possible, and yet there you were, holding his face between your hands as he heard your voice, and smelled your perfume. 

You were supposed to be gone.

He had to hold back from breaking down as soon as he got home, your silhouette standing by the window as if you truly were there, waiting for him like you always used to. He couldn't bear to see you smile, to hear you talk about a future when you no longer had one. He could barely keep it together when you cupped his face in your hands and made him stare at you, something seemed to have switched in your eyes, and he didn’t like it one bit.

“It’s time to let go, Suguru.”

“I can't,” he whispered in a broken voice, “I don't want to.”

Three months without seeing you, feeling you, there was no way he’d let you slip away from his grasp—not again.

Tears ran down his cheeks, his heart pressing heavily against his chest as he fought the need to crumble down to the floor. He could see your eyes glistening with tears, but your pretty smile remained, giving him all the time he needed to compose himself. 

“I'm so sorry.”

“It wasn't your fault,” you whispered, rubbing your thumbs against his cheekbones, trying and failing to stop the tears, “I could never blame you, I never did.”

Unwanted memories from that day swarmed his mind: the loud screech of tires against the pavement, your body next to his, the sight of your beautiful face covered in cuts and bruises mocking the peaceful look in it. The memory haunted him for months.

What was once the face of an angel, as he liked to call you, twisted into a gruesome memory.

If only he hadn’t convinced you to accompany him to the party, or if he had paid more attention to the road so he could’ve avoided the drunk driver that hit the car as he drove home. You’d still be there, with him, holding him just as you were doing right at that moment.

“I'm going insane,” he sniffled, resting his forehead against yours, “aren’t I?”

“No, no, you’re not. But you aren’t taking care of yourself,” you kept smiling through your tears, your voice gentle as if you were talking to a child, “you either sleep too little or too much, and you haven’t been attending your lectures.”

Rocking you side to side, he dismissed your comment with a nonchalant hum, “but I’m happy now, isn’t that what you want? Just… stay? Please?”

The lack of words on your part was his answer.

“Will I see you again?” 

“Of course,” your smile broadened, “even if the skies fall, or a huge wave takes over the city, you’ll never get rid of me.”

Suguru’s hold tightened, your face hiding in his chest as you both tried to calm yourselves down. He didn’t dare to close his eyes, wanting to see your face for as long as he could. And even with tears clogging up your eyelashes and wobbly lips, you were still as gorgeous as he remembered.

“You’re my sunrise, and I'm your sunset,” he whispered in your ear, “never forget that.”

Not like you could. You had found your very own sunset, only yours to love and admire.

“I would never.”

Even with puffy eyes and tears wetting your cheeks, Suguru still thought you were the most beautiful woman that ever walked the earth. He helped you wipe your tears, watching you sniffle and laugh right after.

“Baby?” you spoke after a few minutes of silence and holding each other, basking in his warmth until it made you sleepy. 

His lips kissed the crown of your hair while his fingers combed it away from your face, admiring your face with love brimming from his eyes, “hm?”

A lump blocked your throat, tears welling up in your eyes before quickly cascading down your cheeks as you ingrained his face into your memory.     

“Look for me in the sky, I promise I'll be there.”

Suguru never saw you again after that day.

It was as if the grief took over his life all over again, the sorrow suffocating him with each breath he took. His body and soul crumpled even lower than the first time, however, with each passing week, the heaviness in his heart became lighter.

It took him a while to open up to Satoru, and when he finally did, the tears were unstoppable from both sides. Satoru felt for his friend and you, you two had had a close bond too after all, and after seeing Suguru shattered after your loss, he knew he had to be his rock.

There wasn’t a place in the city that didn’t have your name, filled with memories of your dates as Suguru and you explored the world together. But it was time to turn the page, with your memory inked on the corner of it and in Suguru’s soul.

He would never be able to forget you, and he didn’t want to.

Sitting by the window, Suguru took a look at the late spring afternoon. Living in a world without you would always be painful, which is why he found himself staring at it from your eyes. That window was your spot; he would always find you there before the sun was up, and right before it disappeared behind the horizon, waving him goodbye as he drove away to work.

The usual bustle of the streets quieted down for a moment, it was as if the world went still. Orange tinted the sky as usual, only this time, hues of blue and lilac blended across it, the wind cold and refreshing as it blew against his warm skin.

Suguru peered up at the skies with a nostalgic smile, a wave of peacefulness making its way into his heart.

“There you are, my love.”

[nekohime19]

Neko Shadowpeach Au Guide!

I have so many Shadowpeach Au I can't even 😭

This post is mainly for me to organize myself bc I'm beginning to have a lot of ideas for Au, and a lot of Au in general and I need to write that somewhere or I'm gonna get lost.

But also it's to let you guys know about future Au I would probably write and see if you like them.

Of course if you guys have any questions about any of my Au's, even the unpublished one, feel free to ask.

alright here we go :

Published

Monkeys silly love life :

Summary : Macaque never met the great sage, nor the brotherhood, he simply lived like a hermit until his lantern was stolen by a thrall. He finds himself coming to Megapolis in search of his lantern, there he meets MK, his friends and one particularly insistent golden-furred monkey who seems keen on flirting with him despite the Lady Bone Demon taking over the world.

Fic : series of three fic on Ao3

Who said you can't flirt in an apocalypse?

Monkeys discovering the wide world of dating.

I know the world is ending but will you marry me?

Status : all fics completed

Vibe : fluff and humor

Heart behind the lie :

Summary : Sun Wukong's mind is severely damaged by the Lady Bone Demon's possession, leading him to act like a beast. Macaque being the only person he trusts in this state, he is designated as his babysitter. Macaque refuses at first but then finds himself needing magic to survive and decides to accept being a babysitter to better steal Sun Wukong's magic. He might became more attached than he planned for.

Fic : fic on Ao3 + being published on Tumblr with two chapters a day

Status : uncompleted

Vibe : emotional angst, feels and fluff

Publishing day : At least once a week

Mini Mac :

Summary : One day Sun Wukong discovers that a little black-furred monkey had been living in the walls of his stone mansion and decides to befriend him. Problem is, the little black-furred beauty is not keen on deepening his relationship with him, thus the sage has to gain his trust first.

Fic : one fic on Tumblr and Ao3

Status : uncompleted

Vibe : fluff, humor and very light angst

Publishing day : Two to three chapters a week

Bimawen :

Summary : What if Heaven actually gave weight to the title of Bimawen and treated Sun Wukong with respect, even if reluctant? Sun Wukong would have never gone on a rampage and quietly taken care of the horses. Years after Sun Wukong has taken his horsley duties Heaven found another celestial monkey, the Six-eared Macaque causing mayhem in the mortal world. The macaque is judged and if he wants to avoid his execution, he has to become the bimawen's assistant. The problem is the monkeys don't really like each other.

Fic : one on Ao3 and Tumblr

Status : uncompleted

Vibe : fluff, humor and feels / JTTW oriented

Publishing day : Once to twice a month (often more bc I'm inspired)

Share my glow (co-writing with Pen-Women)

Summary : Macaque never met Wukong in his life. He is known as the Shadow Weaver, a mysterious entity who guides the one lost in the night. His lantern is the last artifact LBD needs to complete her mech and take over the world. When his forest is frozen by the Thrall he has no choice but to follow a troublesome team of heroes with a particularly flirty Monkey King.

Fic : one in Ao3

Status : uncompleted

Vibe : fluff and angst / ABO

Publishing day : Once a week (every Sunday)

Unpublished

So here is are my ideas for different Au's! Of course, bc those are still ideas in working, summaries might change a lil bit when I actually write them. Idk if I'll write them all though. They're classed from the one I want to write the most after I'm finished with Heart behind the lie and Mini Mac to ideas in passing.

1) Love Addicts :

Summary : Macaque and Sun Wukong find themselves feeling miserable after season 5. MK lost his powers when he jumped in the pillar, and both monkeys can't help but feel guilty. Sun Wukong then stumbles upon an odd door in his treasure trove and discovers the existence of a bar selling love potions. Despite hating each other, both monkeys decides to drink one potion to recover some sort of happiness, letting themselves be in love for one week. They take another one after the end of this first week and soon become addicted to the taste of love, even if this love is fake.

Fic : will be on Ao3 (debating if I'm gonna add it to Tumblr)

Status : unwritten / I'm planning this one after Heart behind the lie

Vibe : angst, fluff and feel, smut

Die-Hard fan :

Summary : Sun Wukong took the throne of the Jade Emperor after the attack on Heavens orchestrated by the brotherhood. While at first were glad to be free of Heaven's corruption they soon began to fear the whims of their new ruler. Sun Wukong is a beast of pleasure who does nothing but indulges his needs, either in food or treasures, and kills those who doesn't agree with him. One day, he stumbles upon the most famous entertainer of the mortal world, the Six-eared Macaque, and became a die-hard fan. Now determined to be someone Macaque would like, Sun Wukong has to change all his ways and learns to be a good King.

Fic : will be on Ao3 and Tumblr

Status : unwritten / Planning this after Mini Mac

Vibe : fluff and humor

Monkey Cop Mania :

Summary : Both monkeys find themselves being transported to a movie-like dimension in which Sun Wukong is the insanely famous Monkey Cop and Macaque a world-wide known thief accused of murder. If they want to get back to their own dimension, they have to solve a murder and finish the movie's scenario. Problem is neither mystic monkeys turn out to be great detectives.

Fic : unwritten / will be on Ao3

Status : unwritten

Vibe : Humor and feels

Once upon a monkey

Summary : various long one shots of shadowpeach being in different fairy tales.

How to bewitch the witch : Wukong is the prince of the Sun Kingdom and falls in love with the cruel sea witch, Macaque, while said witch was destroying his wedding with the mermaid prince, Azure. Once Azure returns to his kingdom and their wedding falls void, Wukong does everything in his power to court Macaque. Turns out, courting a sea witch is quite difficult.

The strongest of them all : Macaque is a magic mirror with the ability to hear past, present and future terribly in love with his owner, the King Sun Wukong. One day Sun Wukong learns that he's not the strongest anymore, but that he's step-son, MK, is. Macaque, after listening to the future, fears for his King and tries to better the relationship between MK and Wukong.

Fighting Beauty : Macaque is prince Sun Wukong personal guard, in charge of guarding him until his betrothed comes to rescue him from the sleeping spell casted upon him. Things get awkward when Macaque awakens Sun Wukong on his first night on duty. Sun Wukong, impatient as ever, decides to slay the dragon himself and not wait on his betrothed, Macaque is dragged in the quest despite himself.

Midnight Illusion : Macaque is at day the mistreated step-son of the Lady Bone Demon, and at night the leader of the most fearsome thieves of the Sun Kingdom. He's unfortunately caught by the royal guard in the middle of a thievery. He's given two choices by the Sun King himself : either spend the rest of his life in prison, or spy on his own step-mother while also pretending to be the Sun King betrothed. Naturally, he chose the second option.

The Mage and the Monkey : Sun Wukong is cursed by the wandering mage, Macaque, after refusing to give him shelter on a stormy night. He's now the Monkey King, and he'll stay in this beastly form as long as he cannot find true love, according to the Mage, at least. But Sun Wukong is not one to stay idle, he finds the Mage huts after a lot of searching, and bugs him everyday to undo the curse. Macaque is tempted to accept, only because Sun Wukong is getting annoying.

Fic : unwritten / will be on Ao3

Status : unwritten / rough ideas really

Vibe : Humor and fluff and angst

Narcissist :

Summary : Sun Wukong was lonely. He felt like there was a wedge between him and the world, that no-one could ever understand him. Even his successor couldn't hope to breach his shell. Pushed by his loneliness, Wukong stole a forbidden book from the gods with the vilest spells written in it and bring his shadow to life.

Fic : unwritten / will be on Ao3

Status : unwritten / very rough idea

Vibe : angst, fluff and horror (Mac being an eldritch horror)

I'll add Au's to this guide if I have any more that I think of, but that's all for now.

[hungermakesmonsters]

Love, Sick Love

Chapter Three

Plot summary : Working at one of the shadier bars in Brooklyn, you have one rule; don’t mess around with the patrons. Most of them are criminals, dangerous. None more so than Billy Russo, but Billy believes that rules are made to be broken. Especially your rule. One lapse in judgement is all it takes for Billy to decide that you’re his, and he’s never been the sort of man to take rejection well.

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R 

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] Stalker behaviour. Also spider/spider bite mentions. All chapters will deal with dark and smutty themes, including but not limited to stalking. Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story. 

Word Count : 6.1k

A/N : Things start to get dark from this chapter onwards.

CHAPTER ONE | CHAPTER TWO

Master List

Chapter Three

You were aching when you woke, muscles stiff and skin left littered with the marks of his affections, and, true to his word, you could still feel him. Intimately. He’d left you feeling sore and used and, in the cold light of day, it was easy to regret it. 

As much as you’d enjoyed it, as much as you’d wanted it at the time, the morning after offered you a certain level of clarity and it was easy to see all the ways that it had been a mistake.

Beside you, he was sprawled out, deep in sleep and looking so relaxed and vulnerable that you couldn’t help but wonder when he’d last slept so soundly. Despite your regret, you didn’t want to wake him and ruin what seemed like the first truly peaceful moment that he’d had in ages.

In the morning light you could see that it wasn’t just his face that bore scars. His whole body was a tapestry of marks and imperfections (though to think of anything on him as imperfect  felt so wrong because, even marked as he was, he was still attractive). One scar in particular drew your attention. Across his shoulder, a thick pinky-white scar, faded with age but still very much noticeable. There was a pang of remorse in your stomach, daring to wonder if you’d hurt him when you’d grabbed his shoulder last night.

For a few sweet moments, you couldn’t help but lay there, watching him sleeping and thinking about how things could be if your circumstances were just a little different.

Your night together had been unexpected. Billy had given you something that you hadn’t even realised that you wanted or needed, and he’d shown you what it felt like to have someone want you so much that they lost all composure and control. It was thrilling and alluring. And terrifying.

But, you could tell that he was trouble - or that he was in trouble - and you couldn’t get caught up in anyone else’s shit. You couldn't risk letting a man like Billy get close to you, no matter how he'd made you feel.

Still, there was something about him, something that made you wonder what-if.

It would have been so easy to curl up beside him, to let your hands wander over his body until he woke up and gave you a repeat performance of last night. Your thighs clenched at the thought and, despite how thoroughly you'd been fucked only hours before, you felt that familiar heat spark to life inside you.

Looking down, you realised that the sheet around his waist was tented and without thought, you reached down to slowly uncover him. You moved with all the skill and caution of a cat burglar, peeling back the sheet to reveal -

Fuck.

He hadn't given you the chance to appreciate it last night; long and thick, with the slightest curve. You bit your lip staring down at his cock, now understanding why you ached. It was inch after inch of perfection - though that thought alone left you feeling completely ridiculous. The heat inside you burned hotter, a desperate feeling of arousal taking hold. 

Suddenly you reached a decision; fucking him just one more time wouldn't change anything. You'd wake him with your lips - you weren't usually a fan of blowjobs but the sight of his cock and the way that the tip had started to leak had your mouth watering. You’d wake him up, rile him up, then lay back and let him take control. 

You hated how right Jenna had turned out to be, but you hated even more just how eager you felt for more. Dick-matised. That’s what you were, even if you knew it could only last while he was still there in your bed.

Cautiously, you moved, reaching down towards him, ready to take him in your hand, then your mouth. But before your fingers could reach him, Billy took a gasped breath and his whole body tensed. You pulled away, getting out of bed and taking a step back, cheeks heating, feeling like you’d just been caught doing something wrong. Whatever spell you’d been under was well and truly broken as you looked at him, realising that he was still sleeping, that he hadn’t caught you out.

He rolled onto his side and let out a pained sound, his breathing laboured. 

A nightmare.

He was having a nightmare.

You took another step back, and were quickly brought back to the extremely messy reality of your situation when you stood on the condom he’d dumped on the floor the night before. 

All you could think was how he wouldn’t want you to see him like that, and how seeing him in that position changed things, messed them up even more. It gave you the certainty that you’d been searching for only minutes before; this had all been a mistake. You couldn’t deal with whatever this was anymore than you couldn’t deal with whatever trouble he was bound to cause in your life.

Instead of doing the decent thing and waking him up, you turned and quickly left the bedroom, pausing only to grab your robe from the back of the door, leaving him to his nightmare and letting him preserve his dignity. In the kitchen you filled the coffee pot and fished a couple of mugs from the cupboard, trying to ignore the sounds of gasps and thrashing in the next room.

By the time the pot had brewed and you had two steaming mugs of coffee, the noises had stopped. And, when you returned to the bedroom, you found him sitting on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands. He didn’t notice you moving across the room until you placed a mug on the nightstand for him. Then, when his wide eyes met yours, you caught a flicker of something new; uncertainty.

Billy didn’t say anything and the way he stared quickly made you feel uncomfortable.

“I didn’t know how you took it, so -”

“Black’s fine,” he answered, a noticeable tremor in his voice.

Whatever he’d been dreaming about, it had taken an obvious toll on him, but as bad as you felt for the poor guy, you decided not to mention it.

“I didn’t hear you get up,” he said, shifting a little, glancing around the room like he was worried that some element of his nightmare might be lurking in the dark corners, laying in wait for him.

“I don’t need a lot of sleep,” you shrugged.

Before you could stop him, Billy reached for you, his arm winding around your waist, pulling you towards him. You moved closer without resisting, letting him rest his head on your chest. Without thinking, you started to stroke the back of his head, idly wondering to yourself what he might look like if he let his hair grow out a little. But, then, when you felt scars beneath his hair, you wondered if maybe his hair had been buzzed so he could be treated.

Minutes ticked by and you knew it was wrong to indulge him, to give him any sense that this was anything more than what it had been; a one night stand that you had no intention of repeating. Still, you didn’t move, sensing that he needed a little moment, some slight comfort in order to recover from whatever he’d just been through.

But, when you felt his arm tighten and his fingers pressing into your hip through your robe, you finally took a step back.

“You should drink that before it gets cold,” you nodded at his coffee before lifting your mug to your lips. “I need to grab a shower and get some things done before my shift tonight, are you okay seeing yourself out?”

For a moment you held your breath, eyes fixed on him, trying desperately to conceal the sudden nervousness twisting in your stomach at not knowing how he was going to react. After speaking, you thought that you caught a flash of discomfort and annoyance on his face, but his lips quickly forced a smile.

“Are you sure you don’t need me to get your back?” He asked as he reached for his mug.

“I think you got enough last night,” you retorted, hoping that you could both just laugh and joke about it, rather than it becoming a serious conversation.

“I didn’t hear you complaining.”

“I wasn’t. But that was last night and today is a brand new day.”

“Sounds like something off one of those inspirational posters,” he said, letting out a huff of laughter.

“It is,” you answered, managing to hold back a laugh of your own. “I was thinking about getting one but I couldn’t decide between that one and the ‘I hate mondays’ one.”

The smile on Billy’s lips turned softer, taking on a more wistful quality as he lifted his mug and took another slow drink.

“I, uh - I used to have one those - y’know the one with the kitten on the branch? Said ‘hang in there’.” He took another drink, almost like the thought of it now left a bad taste in his mouth. “Think I got it for Christmas one year at the group home...”

“You were in foster care?” You asked, momentarily forgetting that you were supposed to be getting rid of him and drawing a line under what you’d allowed to happen the night before.

His smile instantly became more guarded, no longer reaching his eyes. Then came an empty sort of laugh. “You look surprised.”

Immediately you felt bad and schooled your expression into something a little more neutral. 

“It’s not that,” you started and stopped abruptly, taking a second to decide what you wanted to say, what you were willing to share. “I mean, I guess I’m a little surprised but it’s not like - I’m not judging you. I spent time in the system too.”

His eyebrows rose almost immediately. 

“Now who looks surprised?” You joked, lifting your mug and taking a slow sip.

“You were in the system?”

You shrugged, holding the mug at your lips and continuing to drink just to postpone answering the question for a few seconds.

“A few times, on and off. My mom didn’t exactly have her shit together, and she didn’t always have the best taste in men...” you explained before taking one last drink and draining your mug, putting an end to whatever this was. “Look, I don’t want to be a bitch, but I really do have things to get done today...”

“Okay, kitten,” he relented far more easily than you expected. Lifting his mug, he drained the last of his coffee and got to his feet, seeming indifferent to the fact that he was still completely naked. “I just need to use the bathroom, then I’ll get outta your way.”

He didn’t wait for an answer or directions, he strode across the room and slipped into your bathroom, seeming to instinctively know that the door on the left was a closet and not the door he needed unlike most of the men who found themselves stumbling around your apartment the morning after. 

You watched him go, noticing the scratch marks that you’d left across his back and the indentations on his ass cheeks from where you’d gripped him too tight. It was impossible to tell if he was deliberately trying to make you regret kicking him out, but it certainly felt that way. Billy didn’t even bother closing the bathroom door, giving you a full view of him as he peed, though you quickly turned your attention to taking the empty mugs to the kitchen, getting out of his way so he could get dressed.

“Last chance to change your mind,” he offered, emerging from the bedroom, fully dressed.

You scooped his jacket off the floor where he’d abandoned it the night before and offered it to him. “Guess I’ll see you around?”

“Count on it, kitten,” he said, pulling on his jacket, “and don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me.”

He didn’t give you a chance to ask what he meant before leaving and you didn’t linger on the thought. Ultimately, you were just glad that he’d left without a fuss and hadn’t tried to talk you into anything else.

You waited a beat after the door had closed behind him before locking it and sliding the bolt into place.

Your first stop was the shower, scrubbing your hair and skin clean, before relaxing beneath the hot water. Closing your eyes, you found yourself remembering everything that had happened between you and Billy, and how it had made you feel. Even after your hot shower, you still ached in that wonderful way. 

And, despite what you’d told Billy, once you were clean, you returned to bed, curling up and drifting off to thoughts of him. You slept off the night before like it was a hangover you were suffering from and not a state of confusion that you just couldn’t shake.

Though that confusion was tainted with a vague hint of irritation when you realised just how many visible marks Billy had left on you. It meant having to wear jeans and a blouse for work, which would inevitably lead to fewer tips.

When you arrived at the bar, you were surprised to find Sam working, shooting the shit with Jake and Billy. He was telling them some bullshit story as you walked past to throw your jacket in the back - because that was what Sam liked to do, he liked to bullshit. You’d gotten used to it pretty quickly. In fact, you were sure you’d heard the story he was telling before, about how he’d almost been caught screwing some Russian mobsters wife and he’d had to climb out the window, and she was apparently so distraught at him leaving, she tried to follow after, chasing him down the street stark naked.

He was the kind of guy who thought he was god’s gift to women when, really, he was just average with a personality that was only bearable in small doses. But he was mostly harmless. 

Mostly.

“Got your wages over there,” he said, giving a vague gesture to the back of the bar. “Still dunno why you insist on cash, thought you were all into paying for things on your phone these days.”

“My landlord’s a dick and only takes cash,” you answered, shrugging and stepping behind the bar, only allowing yourself a momentary glance towards Jake and Billy.

“Hear you had some trouble here last night,” Sam continued.

That made you look at Billy. It made you glare.

“No, it was fine. Just some drunk that’d been kicked out of The Styx,” you explained, still glaring at Billy, pissed that he’d made you look unable to do your job to your boss.

“Good, ‘cause I don’t wanna have to waste money on security just ‘cause you girls can't handle yourselves,” Sam said.

You didn’t answer, instead you turned away and headed for the brown envelope containing your wages, which was sitting on the back of the bar, beneath an upturned glass.

Once you realised what was in the glass, there was nothing that could have stopped the terrified noise that escaped you. You stumbled backwards, hitting the bar and wincing in pain. But the pain barely registered over the ringing in your ears and the feeling of panic clutching at your chest. You struggled to draw breath and found yourself unable to tear your eyes from the glass and the spider within.

Thick black legs knocked at the glass, trying to get out, trying to get to you.

A few seconds passed but the sound of laughter pulled you back to the moment.

“See? Told ya,” Sam was grinning, obviously impressed by his little prank. His attention turned from the men at the bar to you. “The look on your face... fuckin’ priceless.”

Your hand clenched to a fist at your side and you were about to ruin your life and swing for him but, before you could, the door opened and in walked Jenna.

“‘bout time you showed up,” Sam said. “You just missed all the fun.”

Unclenching your fist, you barged past Sam, muttering something about the empties and the back alley, knowing that he’d disappear soon enough.

You made your way outside, bracing yourself against the brickwork and closing your eyes, trying to get the thought of the spider out of your head. Forcing slow, deep breaths, you slowly overcame your panic but it was almost all completely undone when you suddenly felt a hand on your back.

Turning, you found Billy standing there, and that just made everything worse.

“Have a good laugh?” You asked sharply.

“Look, I - I didn’t know that was how you were gonna react,” he said, as if that excused anything. “If I’d known I -”

“What, Billy? Huh? What would you’ve done?” You asked, though it was very clear that you didn’t want or need an answer. “Make me look worse in front of everyone in there? Make it look like I can’t handle it? Like I need protecting?”

The sudden outburst caught him off guard and he took a step back, but his retreat was only tactical. “You think you don’t need protecting?”

“Who’s gonna protect me, Billy? You?” You almost laughed at the thought.

“You’re damned right I will.”

“I don’t want your protection. I don’t need it.”

You tried to step past him, only to find his hand on your wrist, pulling you back to face him. Billy didn’t say anything, it was like he was struggling to find the words, like he didn’t trust himself not to say something that would make all of this worse. His jaw clenched and his eyes stayed fixed on yours, gaze unwavering, unblinking.

Pulling, you tried to free yourself from his grip, but Billy held on.

“Let me go,” you told him.

The demand seemed to shake something loose in Billy, and he released you, awkwardly shaking his head, like he was trying to clear whatever thought he’d just been caught up in.

Not willing to wait to see what he might say or do next, you headed back inside. You could tell he was following only a step behind, but he remained silent, letting you walk away from him.

“Jake just told me what happened,” Jenna started before you could even take a breath.

Why was everything suddenly going wrong? It was as if you’d had too much of a good thing last night, and all of this bullshit was the universe trying to course-correct.

“It was just Sam being an asshole,” you shrugged, though your eyes immediately moved to the back of the bar to make sure the spider was gone. Thankfully, it was (the one good thing to happen to you today).

“I’m not talking about Sam, I’m talking about last night.”

There was no holding back the sigh or the way your head dropped. All you wanted to do was grab your things and head home. You wanted to go to bed and start all over again tomorrow, with no Billy, no Sam being an asshole, and no Jenna looking at you like she thought you couldn’t handle yourself.

“It’s a good thing I asked Billy and Jake to keep an eye on things, they -”

“What?” You asked, brought back to the moment by that new piece of information. “You asked a couple of drunks to babysit me?”

There was a grumble from Jake at the bar, but he seemed to know better than to inject himself into a conversation that was quickly becoming an argument. Billy, on the other hand, remained completely silent, watching it all play out.

“Un-fucking-believable,” Jenna answered, “you get attacked but I’m the bad guy for making sure that there was someone around to help?”

“Right, because I’m so fucking useless that I can’t even take care of myself?” You snapped back.

Realistically, you knew that she was right and that, without Billy’s intervention, things could have gone a lot worse than they did. And, honestly, you weren’t even sure why you were so upset about it - because she hadn’t told you? Because Billy hadn’t thought to mention it? Or, maybe it was because you hadn’t even thought to ask him why he was still there. But it made what he’d said to you outside seem a hundred times worse.

They all thought you were weak. That you were some helpless little thing.

Of course, it would blow over; arguments with Jenna always did. You weren’t sure what it was, but you could never stay mad at her. Still, for the next few hours, you kept to yourself, clearing glasses, serving anyone that wasn’t Billy. And it was more than obvious to everyone around that you were ignoring him, ignoring the way his eyes followed you around as you worked.

But Jake - he found himself stuck in the middle, receiving all of your usual charm and attention just to prove a petty point to Billy. He was a customer, just like Jake, nothing more. 

“What is it about you and spiders, anyways?” Jake dared to ask after he’d had enough to drink to loosen his tongue.

Tension ran up your spine and it took a second before you could think of an answer.

“Friend of mine died from a Black Widow bite when I was a kid,” you said, refilling his glass.

“Shit,” he offered sympathetically, blowing out his cheeks. 

“It was my fault,” you continued, “we’d been playing by an old log pile and I dropped this stupid ring that I used to wear. It disturbed a nest and a couple of these big spiders came crawling out, so we ran. But Thomas - he went back later to find my ring and got bitten. Poor kid had a real bad allergic reaction, he didn’t stand a chance...”

“Shit,” he muttered again, his head shaking, eyes dropping, ashamed. “Look, I’m sorry ‘bout earlier - laughing at you. If I’d known...”

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it,” you told him.

From the corner of your eye you could see Billy staring, and you knew he’d heard the whole tale, and when you finally dared to look at him you caught an unreadable expression on his face. He didn’t say anything. You didn’t give him the chance to.

By the end of the night, the rest of Jake’s friends had turned up and the whole group had vanished about twenty minutes before closing. 

And, as you and Jenna locked up for the night, it was more than enough time to settle your differences. You explained to her that you’d snapped because of Sam’s prank and because you didn’t like being made to feel useless. Jenna listened and nodded along before telling you that she’d only asked Jake and Billy to keep an eye on things because didn’t want anything bad to happen to you.

In the end you hugged it out and Jenna invited you back to her place to eat leftovers that her mom had made and - well, you’d never been able to say no to Jenna’s moms cooking.

You decided against telling her about Billy or what had happened after he’d ‘saved’ you and, instead the two of you spent the night drinking wine and watching crappy reality shows until you finally crashed on her sofa.

The next morning you briefly headed home to shower and change before heading into the city, a little day off ritual you’d developed over the last year. 

The subway was packed and you quickly put on your headphones, drowning out all the noises and people around you. You didn’t look up until you felt a prickling sensation on the back of your neck, like someone was watching you. You looked around, silently telling yourself that you were being paranoid, but, as you looked forward again, you saw him.

Your heart skipped a beat, breath catching, but by the time you looked again, he was gone. It was just your imagination - though why you were imagining Billy following you, was something you really didn’t want to think about. But, once the thought was in your head, it was hard to shake and, for the rest of the day, you found yourself looking over your shoulder.

Every time you caught a glimpse of short dark hair, or a jacket like his, you found yourself wondering if it was him.

You even approached one guy as you left your favourite coffee shop in the village, about to throw your steaming hot latte in his face when you realised that it wasn’t Billy when he turned and looked your way. 

Feeling ridiculous, you decided that you were going to put him out of your mind. You weren’t going to think about him any more, you were just going to think of him as a one night stand whose name you couldn’t remember. Outside of the bar, Billy no longer existed.

By the time you got back to your apartment, you were exhausted and most of your pay was already gone, except a little kept aside for bills and food. You’d replaced the clothes that Billy had destroyed, buying yourself a pleated plaid skirt that you were sure would earn you more than a few extra tips.

But even in the safety of your apartment, something felt off.

You couldn’t put your finger on it and, again, you felt ridiculous. 

The draw on your nightstand was slightly open and, for the life of you, you couldn’t remember if it had been closed or not. It bothered you far more than it should - you had a habit of leaving drawers and cupboards open when you were in a rush, and you didn’t think Billy had bothered to shut it after he’d taken out a condom when he’d been with you.

That was probably it. 

What other reason could there be for that drawer being open? It wasn’t like anyone was going to break in to steal a condom or the dildo you kept in there. Pushing the drawer shut, you collapsed onto the bed, deciding that you’d have an early night, that all your paranoia was due to two late nights of drinking.

And, it helped. You felt a lot better the next morning, rested, calmer. Which was a good thing because it was finally Friday, and that meant that the bar was going to be slammed. So, you decided to wear your new skirt and spent way longer than usual on your make-up and hair, needing to up on the tips you’d missed out on the other night because of your bad mood.

An audible sigh of relief left you when you reached Sam’s and you realised that Billy didn’t seem to be there. As you walked through the bar, you let your gaze wander, checking the tables at the back, looking for any sign of him.

“Lover boy’s not here,” Jenna told you. “Wasn’t here last night either. I think you must’ve upset him the other night.”

“Oh well,” you said, grinning, “guess we’ll have to go back to making tips the old fashioned way.”

Shrugging off your coat, you strut past her into the back, letting her see your new clothes. 

Jenna laughed at your little display and called after you; “good thing Paul’s helping out tonight, with you dressed like that we might need to hose some of the regulars down.”

You laughed at the thought, but you were glad to know that you and Jenna would have help. Paul was an old friend of Sam’s, semi-retired, but he liked to come in and help out whenever he needed some extra cash. And, fortunately for you and Jenna, everyone knew not to fuck around with Paul. 

Rumour had it that he used to run with some biker gang, though others would say he was an ex-hit man for the mafia. It was all bullshit, but Paul liked to indulge it so no one tried to mess with him.

It got busy fast, Jenna cranked up the music and you both got to work. It felt good, it was fun. People were drinking and the tips were coming your way. Everything was going great.

And then you saw him at the bar. 

You hadn’t noticed them slip in, the whole crew, all looking amped up already. It made you wonder where they’d been and what they’d been doing, but you didn’t want to ask.

Taking a breath, you forced yourself to move towards Billy. You were going to do your job and try to put everything else behind you.

“The usual?” You said, not quite able to force a happy and bubbly tone.

“So you’re talking to me tonight?”

“Do you want a drink or not, Billy?” 

“Whiskey.”

As you moved to grab the bottle, you felt his eyes on you, something that he didn’t bother to try and hide when you turned back towards him.

“New outfit?” He asked, eyes drinking in the sight of you.

The way he was looking at you made your cheeks warm and, even though it was the last thing you wanted to think about, suddenly all you could think about was the memory of his head between your thighs and the way his greedy tongue had felt against you.

“Yeah, my favourite skirt got ruined, so I needed a new one,” you told him, pouring his drink.

“You should be careful,” he warned, “I have a feeling that one’s gonna end up getting ruined too...”

“I doubt it,” you retorted flatly, somehow resisting the urge to press your thighs together.

Turning and walking away, you spent the rest of the night so run off your feet that you didn’t even have to try to avoid him, it just seemed to work out that whenever he approached the bar Jenna or Paul served him. It was so busy that you didn’t even have time to think about him or the way you could feel his gaze on you. 

When things started to die down, Paul left you and Jenna to finish up, but there were still plenty of people drinking, so Jenna left the music blaring and the pair of you kept working for your tips.

Soon, it was quiet enough for you to head into the cellar to grab some fresh bottles. It was a relief to be away from the noise upstairs and you decided to take your time, knowing Jenna could handle things fine on her own.

“I’ve gotta be honest, I’m starting to take this whole playing hard to get thing personally, kitten.”

His voice suddenly sounded through the darkness was enough to startle you, shock almost causing you to trip over your own feet as you turned to face him.

“You can’t be down here, Billy,” you warned, not wanting to get pulled into his games.

“Can’t I?” The smirk on his lip tinged his words with a dark sort of amusement that sent a shiver down your spine.

“No, you can’t,” you said, “so...”

You let it hang in the air, hoping that he’d take the hint and that he wouldn’t make things any weirder than they already were, but Billy didn’t move.

“So you are playing hard to get,” he said, taking a step towards you. “Lucky for you, I like games.”

“I’m not playing games,” you answered back, holding your ground despite every fibre of your being telling you that you should move, leave. “You need to go.”

“I’m not going anywhere without what’s mine,” he told you, taking another step, then another.

“There’s nothing of yours down here.”

“We both know that’s not true,” he stopped in front of you, his fingers ghosting over your cheek causing you to recoil and finally take a step back, only to find the kegs at your back.

If he cared about your discomfort, he didn’t let it show. He stepped closer, reaching for you again. Part of you knew that you could scream, but you knew no one would hear you over the music and the noise of the bar. And, besides, it wasn’t like Jenna would be able to do anything, any more than you could.

“So the other night was just an act then?” You asked. Billy looked confused, so you continued. “You beat the shit out of that guy for putting his hands on me, but you’re doing the same thing right now.”

“It’s not the same,” the playfulness dropping from his voice, replaced by something far darker. “I’d never hurt you.”

You bristled as his hand cupped your cheek and his thumb ran over your lips. You glared, pulling away from his touch once more, defiant despite the knot of fear that was tightening in your stomach. Unperturbed by your resistance, he reached for you again, this time grabbing your chin and unceremoniously pressing his lips to yours. 

A shocked gasp escaped you, parting your lips and allowing his tongue entrance. For a moment, you were frozen, letting him take what he wanted. As he kissed you, he pressed closer, pinning you against the kegs, a telltale bulge pressing against your stomach through his jeans.

It took a few seconds to overcome the shock and push him away, swinging your hand and revelling in the satisfying crack of your palm striking his cheek. You managed to create some space, but not enough and not for long. He grabbed you by the wrist and pushed you back again.

“I like it when you’re feisty, kitten,” he said, that playful tone in his voice again, like this was all just a game to him.

“I’m not scared of you,” you spat, trying to pull away from him.

“Where are you tryin’ to go, kitten? I’m not done with you yet.”

“What do you want, Billy?” Your voice threatening to break.

“I told you. I want what’s mine.”

“I’m not yours,” you answered back, trying to shove him again, but this time he didn’t budge an inch.

“Deny it all you want,” he replied, while the fingers of his free hand ghosted over your cheek. “I saw how much you wanted me the other night, how much you needed me. You’re gonna realise real soon that you don’t have a choice.”

Your blood ran cold at the implication in his words, body tensing. Again you thought about screaming but - well, what if you screamed and no one came? Your heart ached at the prospect.

“What are you gonna do?” You finally dared to ask, hating that your voice came out so small and afraid.

“Nothing.”

The word didn’t register. It didn’t make sense. There had to be something he wanted, some reason he was doing this.

“I’m not gonna force myself on you,” he continued, his fingers still tenderly brushing against your cheek. “I’d never do that. I don’t have to. Eventually, you’re gonna realise that you want to be mine.”

“Not gonna happen.”

“It will. I’ll make sure of it,” he told you. “If I have to, I’ll take away everything you have until I’m all that’s left, until you’re begging to be mine.”

“I’ll never beg for you,” you answered back.

“You already have,” he said, barely holding back a laugh.

He was right. You hated how right he was. You’d begged for him that night in your bed, over and over again. You’d begged and pleaded as he’d made you feel things you’d never felt before. Just thinking about it sent a shiver down your spine and stoked that shameful heat between your thighs.

(What was wrong with you that this was turning you on?)

“I’m a patient man, but I’m not gonna wait forever,” he told you, leaning close, lips brushing your ear. “One way or another, you’re gonna be mine, kitten.”

Before you could answer, he was kissing you again, groaning against your lips, fingertips pressed into your cheek. Then he pulled away and turned, leaving you there, uncertain at what the fuck had just happened and how you felt about it. 

But, for a second, at the bottom of the stairs, he hesitated and spoke; “it was bees.”

“What?”  You asked in a confused whisper.

“The story you told Jake, about spiders - you got that from a dumb kids movie, but it was bees not spiders that killed the kid.”

You didn’t say anything.

What could you even say, knowing that he’d caught you in a lie? But Billy didn’t seem to expect anything from you. You watched him disappear up the stairs, leaving you completely alone and, by the time you returned to the bar, Jenna was locking up behind the last customer and Billy was nowhere to be seen.

End Note : For anyone old enough to get the My Girl reference, I'm sorry. I recently remembered how traumatic that was for a kids movie and decided if I had to suffer, everyone else did too 😂 (Also the thought of little Billy Russo sitting and watching My Girl is hilarious for some reason???) From this point on the story will be taking a much darker turn (I know I keep warning about that, but this is really the last time I'm going to explicitly mention it). ALSO I managed to break a key off my laptop keyboard and am having to use a crappy bluetooth keyboard that can be kind of laggy. I think I've caught most of the random typos that slipped through, but if I haven't I'm sorry. I might have to buy a whole replacement laptop keyboard which is money I don't want to spend right now (honestly fuck Dell so much) so just as a warning going forward there might be some dumb typos slipping through.

As always your comments/likes/reblogs/asks/general screaming is always cherished and appreciated. I hope you all have an amazing weekend!

Let me know if you'd like to be tagged in future chapters! If tagging doesn't work for some reason (aka Tumblr being dumb) I post most Fridays around 7:30 gmt (and on AO3 at some point in the hours after).

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[brf-rumortrackinganon]

Hello, can you help me out with this one? Somebody used to say that William and Catherine have very different approach in terms of navigating their public roles and working with the media, it's interesting because I can see it too. Can you shed somw light with this one?

I’ve talked about this here before, but I don’t remember when. Feel free to dig into the archives. I feel like searching for “quality over quantity” might pull up those earlier posts.

The main difference between the Waleses and the BRF in terms of navigating their public roles is best described as “quality over quantity.” They prefer to focus on the work supporting Royal Foundation initiatives (Earthshot, homelessness, Early Years, conservation) than doing bread-and-butter royal engagements of hospital ribbon-cuttings, factory openings, meet-and-greets, etc.

If you look at the Court Circular, then you’d see a traditional royal schedule of multiple engagements a day, sometimes up to four or five at a time. Like what Anne does now and Charles, as Prince of Wales, used to do. William and Kate aren’t doing that; they’re doing just one or two engagements a day, and spending a longer time at those engagements. (There’s a story about how Kate gave a keynote speech at a conference and everyone expected her to leave after, but she stayed for several hours, if not the whole conference.) The only times that William and Kate have packed schedules day-to-day that one might expect of a Royal (again, best embodied by Anne’s routine) is when they travel on a foreign visit to see the most and do the most.

The Waleses are also different in how they approach their work. The Waleses prefer to invest their resources in building local communities and local experts so that these projects become long-term or enduring and sustainable successes. Charles did this too, with his Prince’s Trust. This approach is different from the “quick wins” approach best embodied by the Sussexes; do it yourself to take the credit (or buy it and slap your name on it to take credit) and move on to the next project. This approach is all about the PR and investing in one’s self. (One of the books talks about this. I don’t remember which one anymore.)

In terms of media relations, you have to remember that everyone is measuring “William and Kate media friendliness” against the Charles-Diana-Camilla-Harry yardstick. William and Kate are more like Elizabeth and Philip when it comes to how they approach or handle the media - they’re very hands-off, truly adhere to “never complain, never explain”, and they don’t give personal interviews. Charles, Diana, Harry, and Camilla all give the media access to their private lives via interviews and close friendly relationships with members of the media.

The only times I can recall William or Kate personally engaging with or intervening in media coverage was with the topless photos in 2012 and the affair rumors on 2019.

Another way that the Waleses are different in their approach to media is their use of social media. They use their social media to release content about their family in a way that many of the other royals don’t, which bypasses the traditional media - and yes, they’re not happy at all with the Waleses’ choice to speak directly to the public via social media instead of going through the rota.

But they’re also different from each other in how they approach the media. Kate doesn’t speak at all to the press. The most she’ll talk to them is if a reporter catches her on a walkabout. She doesn’t leak to the press or have other people speak to the press for her. William does; he occasionally has a friend or a staffer give a quote to the media so he still does speak through the media sometime, though it’s never to the extent that Charles, Camilla, and the Sussexes do.

[miss-bushido]

our bodies are oh so close and tight

written for @steddiesmuttyseptember week three, using the prompt 'rough' Title from the song 'Paradise by the Dashboard Light' by Meatloaf

Also inspired by this tweet from @_cydonic: “young, bratty Steve who always calls for his father's car when he's working so that Mr Harrington's long-time, trusted driver Eddie can fuck him nasty in the back of the rolls 🥰”

Rating: E

“Going somewhere, Steven?” his Mother asks as he walks past her in the living room, adjusting the sleeves of his navy blue blazer. She doesn’t look up from her latest bodice-ripper romance book, so he knows he can be vague in his response.

“Yes, Mother. Just out to meet the guys.”

“Mmm, make sure you drive safely.” He can see her interest in the conversation is waning as her eyes keep moving over the words on the page. She even reaches for her glass of Chablis. It must be a very interesting passage.

“Eddie will make sure that I get there in one piece,” Steve answers. There is no response to that. His Mother sips her wine, and is now fully engrossed again in her story.

It’s just as well. He doesn’t think she’ll even wait up for him. She never does.

And he doesn’t know what time he’ll come back home. Not that the Harrington’s ever cared when their son came home. He tested it once: stayed out for three days, sleeping in a different girl’s bed every night. When he finally came home, they barely registered it.

This kind of parental neglect has been going on since Steve can remember. Their wealth let them spoil him with all the toys, experiences, cars and vacations a young man could want. There were a myriad of tutors, nannies, personal assistants as well. Their boy would never want for anything.

Except for affection and love from his parents. The Harrington’s did not give this to their only child readily, and on some level they must have felt guilty over it, because they let him do whatever he wanted. Steve was spoiled and willful and bratty, and no one was around to check him on this attitude.

Until the Harrington’s hired their chauffeur, that was.

Eddie Munson was like nothing and no one Steve had ever encountered before. He was in his mid-twenties, with dark hair and deep brown eyes. He had an air of something about him: a hint of danger that only Steve picked up on.

He also didn’t take any shit from The Brat, as he had christened Steve.

The first time he’d tested Eddie was about six months after he’d been hired, almost three months ago now. He’d walked over to the garage where the Harrington’s cars were kept, just as Eddie was finishing wiping down the interior of the Rolls, his tongue poking out in concentration as he moved the damp rag over the steering wheel.

“I want you to drive me somewhere,” Steve said by way of greeting, brushing a piece of imaginary lint off of his blazer.

Eddie moved out of the driver’s seat, rag in hand. His hair, usually kept hidden by his chauffeur’s cap, was loose and long, brushing the tops of his shoulders. The white tank top he wore showed all the tattoos he’d kept hidden under his chauffeur’s jacket, along with the strong arms he had. “I just finished detailing the car, so it’ll have to wait-”

Steve sighed heavily, as if this was the most inconvenient thing in the world. “I don’t care. I want you to drive me-”

“No,” Eddie said.

“No?” Steve repeated, hazel eyes wide. No one had ever told him ‘No’ before. “Who do you think-”

“I don’t know who you think you are,” Eddie cut him off, voice even with a hint of anger, “but I’m not the one.”

“I’m your boss’s son, is who I am,” Steve answered, eyebrows furrowed as he came closer to Eddie.

“You’re a brat, is what you are,” Eddie retorted.

Steve blinked dumbly, not sure what to do. This conversation was not going how he’d expected it to go. “What did you say?” he asked, moving so he was in Eddie’s personal space.

Eddie stayed where he was, which was also unexpected. So the two were almost chest to chest. “I said that you’re a brat.” He leaned in as he spoke. “Just because I drive you and your family around doesn’t mean you get to treat me like shit.”

Steve blinked again, but this time at the closeness of their faces. He could see a spray of freckles across Eddie’s cheeks, how pink his lips were, the hint of red in his cheeks from his anger. It made something stir in his gut, an unexpected feeling of arousal.

It wasn’t that Eddie was unattractive: he was actually pretty gorgeous to Steve’s mind. It wasn’t even that he was a guy: Steve had experimented with a few guys in the past. He just hadn’t ever expected to be attracted to someone who would speak to him like this. Like he wasn’t important. Like he wasn’t the spoiled and bratty son of the richest man in town.

“Get away,” Steve managed, pressing his hands on Eddie’s chest to shove him back. He managed to move the chauffeur about an inch before Eddie recovered and grabbed both of Steve’s wrists in his strong hands and pivoted so that he shoved Steve’s body up against the car. Eddie’s left thigh was between Steve’s legs, unaware that he was pressing against Steve’s crotch.

“Don’t ever do that again,” Eddie growled, tightening his grip on Steve’s right wrist. “Do you understand me, brat?”

Steve breathed heavily but didn’t answer. No one had ever been this rough with him before. And he found he kind of liked it. In response to Steve’s lack of one, Eddie pushed his body against Steve’s. The motion of him doing that produced delicious friction of Eddie’s thigh against his crotch that made Steve moan, closing his eyes at the feeling.

Eddie’s eyebrows raised at this development. “You like that, huh, brat?” He asked. When Steve didn’t immediately respond, Eddie moved his thigh again, feeling Steve’s erection clearly now. “You like it when someone corrects your behavior?” He was whispering in Steve’s ear now, his whole body pressed against him.

“Maybe…” Steve managed, his voice already sounding wrecked. He turned to look at Eddie, and felt a shiver run through him at the predatory look the chauffeur was giving him. “Maybe I do.”

“You want me to correct your behavior, huh?” Eddie asked. “Put my hands on you? Punish you?”

“Fuck,” Steve breathed, biting his lip at the imagery.

“First things first,” Eddie said, his left hand moving off of Steve’s right wrist, sliding down Steve’s body before he cupped Steve’s erection. He squeezed lightly, making Steve moan filthily, the sound echoing in the garage. “You don’t get to shove me around. Only I get to do that to you.”

“Yes,” Steve breathed, hips moving against Eddie’s hand. “Yes, God, I want that so much.”

“Good boy,” Eddie said, continuing to palm Steve through his pants. “Second thing: if you piss me off, if you keep acting bratty, I’m going to take it out of your ass.” As if to prove his point, Eddie moved them away from the car so he could give Steve a hard slap on the ass.

“Oh my God,” Steve shouted, his cock kicking in his pants. He’d never been spanked before, and didn’t know if it was because it was new or because it was Eddie doing it, or both, but he felt like he could come in his pants from just that by itself.

Eddie bit his lip at the display before him. He had his boss’s son in the palm of his hand, quite literally. He didn’t know Steve had it in him to be this pliable, this slutty. He found he really liked the power he had over him. “Third thing,” he said, his right hand moving in circles over Steve’s cheeks. “I’m the only one who gets to fuck you from now on. I’m the only one you’ll spread for. My pretty little whore.” He punctuated this by giving Steve’s earlobe a bite at the same time as he slipped his hand inside Steve’s pants, stroking his thick cock quickly. “Say it,” Eddie demanded, spanking Steve again as he stroked him.

“Only you,” Steve panted, head tilted forward, his right hand gripping the driver’s side mirror. He shoved his pants down with his left hand, his cock and Eddie’s hand wrapped around it springing free. The slick sounds of his precum sliding up and down his cock could be heard. “Only you get to fuck me,” he continued. “Eddie, fuck, I’m gonna come soon.”

“I can see,” Eddie breathed. He pushed his own pants down so his erection could be taken care of too. He wrapped his right hand around his cock and began stroking himself, getting off on getting Steve off. “Next time, I’m going to fuck you in the backseat, and you better not get cum all over the leather, or I’ll have to punish you.”

“Eddie!” Steve shouted as he came hard, gripping the mirror tightly as he bent forward. His cum dribbled over Eddie’s hands, some of it dripping onto the garage floor.

“God you’re so fucking hot,” Eddie groaned, forcing himself to stop stroking himself. He brought his hand up and licked all of Steve’s release into his mouth.

“I want more,” Steve pleaded. He looked up at Eddie, lust and longing written all over his face. “I want to be in the backseat with you now.”

Eddie pulled Steve in for a kiss, his tongue sliding into Steve’s hot mouth. “You ever been fucked before, brat?”

“Once,” Steve breathed, gripping Eddie’s tank top as they kissed. “I think you’ll be better at it, though.”

Eddie smirked. “Damn right.” He slapped Steve’s bare ass again before he said, “Get in the backseat and bend over.”

Steve kissed his once more before he complied, opening the back door and sliding in so he was facing the passenger side door. He grabbed the edge of the leather seat, and arched his back, waiting for Eddie.

Eddie slid in after Steve, closing the door behind him. “Fuck, your ass looks so good.” He ran a hand over his cheeks, pleased to note the pink spots where he’d spanked Steve. “I have to have a taste.”

Steve cried out, gripping hard to the seat as Eddie spread his cheeks and began tonguing his asshole. No one had ever done this to him, and it was a revelation in pleasure. He felt the wetness of Eddie’s spit, his tongue working inside Steve, punching in and out of him. “Eddie!” he moaned. “God, fuck, it feels so good!”

“This is just the warm up,” Eddie murmured, almost losing himself in eating Steve out. “You taste so fucking delicious. Some day I’m going to eat you out all night.” He felt Steve’s hole clench around his tongue at this. “Sounds like you want that too, huh?”

“Want that, want you, want all of you. God, please, Eddie. Please fuck me!”

Eddie grinned, giving Steve one final lick before he straightened up. “Since you asked so nicely…” he murmured. He reached into his back pocket, pulling out the little tub of Vaseline he kept there. It helped keep his hands smooth and soft after he worked on the car. Eddie uncapped it and scooped out a generous amount on his right pointer and middle fingers.

“This’ll be cold,” he warned Steve as he rubbed the lubricant over his hole. He slid both fingers inside Steve slowly, adding lubricant and getting him adjusted quicker. He heard the little hiss of pain Steve made and removed his fingers as quickly as he could. “Are you okay?” he asked. “Do you want me to stop?”

“If you stop, I’ll shove you again,” was the answer. Steve turned his head from where it was currently pressed against the seat, giving Eddie a knowing grin.

Eddie grinned back, returning to the task at hand of getting Steve’s hole nice and lubed and stretched for him. “There’s that brattiness we talked about,” he said, adding more Vaseline to his fingers as he slipped a third one inside of Steve. He slowly fucked Steve on his fingers, feeling him clench each time. “Someone should fuck it out if you.”

“Is that gonna be you?” Steve asked, practically drooling all over the leather.

“Does my little brat want that? Maybe I want to hear you beg a little first,” Eddie said, pulling his fingers out. He rubbed some Vaseline along his cock, which was red and aching from being ignored for so long. “And loudly. I want to make sure I hear you.”

“Please fuck me, Eddie,” Steve begged, the desperation in his voice taking on a fever pitch. Part of him knew that begging was part of the roleplay they’d stumbled onto, but he also was desperate to feel the other man inside him. “Please, please, pleas- oh fuck, yes!”

On the last ‘please’, Eddie began to push inside Steve, groaning loudly at how tight and hot he was. He slid in slowly and then slid back slowly, almost pulling out. “Is it good? Is it okay?” he asked, his own voice ragged, his hands clutching desperately at Steve’s hips.

“Don’t stop!” Steve begged, pushing back.

It was all Eddie needed. He thrust back inside of Steve, setting a rough rhythm as he fucked him. “You’re so tight,” he breathed. “Such a tight little whore. Can’t get enough of me, can you?” He heard Steve gasp, felt him clench around him. “Say it,” he ordered, delivering a slap to Steve’s ass again.

“I can’t get enough!” Steve yelled, a desperation in his voice. He was leaking precum everywhere all over the seat. Eddie’s words about punishing him if he got cum all over the backseat reverberating through his head. “I want all of you. Only you, please. Please Eddie!” He didn’t know what he was begging for at this point, but that didn’t matter as long as Eddie didn’t stop fucking him.

Eddie felt a shudder run through him, his hips snapping hard against Steve’s as he kept fucking him. “I’m gonna cum in your tight hole,” he panted. “I’m gonna fill you up, make you mine.” He reached between Steve’s legs and began stroking his hard cock, trying to match the rhythm of each stroke to each thrust. “I’m gonna ruin you for anyone else.”

“Only want your cock, your hands, your mouth, oh fuck, Eddie! Eddie, I’m-!” Steve’s words cut off as he came hard while Eddie stroked him, thick ropes of cum spurting out of him.

Eddie gripped Steve’s hip tight with his other hand, the rhythm he’d built up beginning to falter. “Take all of it,” he groaned as he went over the edge, coming so hard inside Steve that he saw white. His whole body shuddered at his release. “God, Steve,” he gasped, trying to catch his breath. “You’re fucking incredible.”

“So are you,” Steve panted, trying to catch his breath. He liked the way his name sounded in Eddie’s mouth. “I want some more.”

Eddie groaned as he pulled out, licking his lips at the sight of his cum leaking out of Steve. “You’ll get some more, brat.” He pinched Steve’s cheek, grinning at the outraged yelp he gave. “First, I gotta clean the car up before this becomes an issue.”

Steve pushed himself up onto his knees, a dull ache in his backside. “So much for the detailing. I got cum all over…” he trailed off as he felt Eddie’s arm wrap around his waist.

“It lets me know I did a good job,” Eddie whispered in his ear, giving his earlobe a light bite. “And I lied: I hadn’t finished detailing the car.”

Steve turned his head to look at Eddie. “Why’d you lie?”

“Because you were being bratty like usual,” Eddie answered. “Are you mad that I lied?”

“No,” Steve said, fully turning to kiss Eddie on the mouth. “Especially not after this.” He deepened the kiss, placing his right hand on Eddie's face.

Eddie broke the kiss to ask, “Did you actually want me to drive you anywhere?”

“I did, but I think I can have a better evening if I stay here with you,” Steve said, giving Eddie’s lower lip a small bite.

“Brat,” Eddie replied, spanking Steve on the ass again, a grin on his face. “Go upstairs and get washed up. Once I clean the car, I’ll be up.”

“But don’t you want to shower with me?” Steve whined, kissing Eddie on the neck, the jaw, everywhere but his mouth. He gasped when Eddie gripped his hair and tilted his head back.

“Do what I say,” Eddie growled, licking a line up Steve’s neck. “I haven’t finished punishing you yet.”

Steve groaned with longing. “Okay,” he breathed, following Eddie out of the car after they both pulled their pants back up.

He was about to go upstairs when Eddie grabbed him by the blazer and pulled him in for a blistering kiss. His hands roamed everywhere on Steve, and when he pulled back, nuzzling their noses together, he started to say, “If it’s too weird or too much…”

“I guess I’ll wait to shower with you after all,” Steve quipped as he pulled out of Eddie’s grasp, a big grin on his face. As he walked upstairs to Eddie’s apartment he heard behind him: “That ass better be on display when I come up there.”

“Why don’t you make me?” Steve called back as he hurried up the stairs, already beginning to shed his clothes.

-

Now back in the present, Steve waits outside at the edge of the walkway. Soon enough, he sees a pair of headlights coming down the driveway, circling and pulling to a stop right in front of him.

Eddie, his Eddie, steps out from the driver’s seat and walks around to the other side, opening the right back passenger door for Steve. “Your chariot, my liege,” he jokes.

“Cute,” Steve replies, running his fingers across the waistband of Eddie’s pants. He is rewarded when Eddie bites his lip, trying to keep his composure. Steve slips his hand further down to palm him over his pants.

Eddie gasps loudly, glaring at Steve as he slides coolly into the car. “Brat,” he hisses. It is said with all the love and affection Steve has always craved.

And it solidifies his decision to tell Eddie he loves him tonight.

After a few spankings, of course.

[snoopledrooplecheesedoodle]

Fall Yandere Prompts

Fuck Me I put prompts on the other thing at didn't actually put prompts, I suck anyways here are a few prompts made by yours truly. Others are free to use them just please tag me. Thanks. I'll make more Halloween ones if people like these.

Apple Cider: A sweet yet tangy that leaves a warm feeling. Your eyelids start drooping after drinking every drop.

Bonfire: Dry sticks and leaves are so easy to burn in high bright flames. Be wary of what the light attracts.

Crows: Inky black birds with a glimmer of intelligence in their eyes. You feel a dozen pairs of eyes watching your every move.

Dry Leaves: Crunchy and brown and always fun to mess around in. You hear a second set of feet slowly trotting behind you.

End: Autumn signifies the end of Summer and a change in season. It also signified the end of your freedom.

Flannel: The warmth of this fall apparel is so comforting in the crisp weather. Don't you like it, they picked out just for you.

Grain: Bountiful and golden, shaking in the cool breeze. You meet a friendly stranger standing in the grain field, holding a scythe.

Harvest: Fall provides us with a bountiful harvest of corn, pumpkins, apples, pears, and grain. Such bounty requires a sacrifice to be made.

Indoors: Why go outside when you can snuggle under the covers and keep warm? Just because it's your home doesn't mean you are safe.

Jack-O-Lanterns: Grinning gourds light up the night, carving them is a fun activity. They want to participate but got a little too creative.

Kettle: Boiling water for a hot beverage on the stove is so nice. The water isn't quite done but you still hear whistling.

Leaf: Colorful trees make such wonderful leaves they look good pressed in a book. You see one on your bed side every day, they have a distinct metallic scent.

Mushrooms: Clustered together they're a fungi to be around. More seem to grow near you each day in strange patterns.

Nutmeg: Fall spices are aromatic and make every dish warm with flavor. If your running low the next-door neighbor might have some, might as well come inside while they look for what you need.

Orchard: Fruit trees tended to with tender care, baring crimson fruit. Picking just one won't hurt.

Pie: Steaming goodness wrapped in a golden shell. Have another slice there's plenty to go around.

Quiet: Many an autumn night is filled with sweet and calming silence. It feels a little too quiet tonight, might want to retire early.

Reaping: How to harvest the crops grown, you reap the rewards of the Earth. Someone has come to take you or your soul, they're not very picky.

Spider: Dainty legs weave beautiful webs, enticing as they are dangerous. Any prey they catch, they won't let go.

Tree: Majestic and tall these ancient plants reach up to the dwindling sun with aching branches. Haven't you seen that tree before, you must be hopelessly lost, perhaps that's better than being found.

Umbrella: The cold weather makes rain extra chilling; with a warm smile you share your umbrella. No good deed goes unpunished, as the storm outside isn't what you should be worried about.

Vermillion: Beautiful shade of red found plentifully in the fall, its beautiful yet it can be a dangerous color too.

Wind: Rattling trees and blowing the leaves to the ground, the wind tickles your ears and nips at your nose. It carries with it the unhinged words of a person you never want to see again.

Xenial: Being most hospitable is a must during autumn. This does not change when a stranger shows up at your front door requesting shelter.

Yarn: Soft threads of vibrant colors used to create warm clothes, blankets, and other things. The string prevents you from moving while someone knits in the corner, eyes focused on you.

Zipper: Better zip up when it's so chilly outside, wouldn't want to catch a cold. You also might want to zip it before they hear you.

[seafoamreadings]

week of september 22nd, 2024

these are written predominantly for the *rising* signs but they are also intuitively "channeled" enough that they should work for any dominant energy you have! (try your sun if you don't know rising, or more advanced readers can try moon, anywhere you have a stellium, etc and see what works best for you!)

aries: someone you're "talking to" may very well become someone closer and more special this week. even if this is not given an official title, or even if you don't register any major shifts in your feelings, the nodes ensure that this sort of communication is quite meaningful.

taurus: this is likely a big week for you in terms of love and relationships. but don't expect to meet prince charming at a ball in a pumpkin coach... much more likely that going about your day to day responsibilities and recreation brings this person to you, or that they are already there and a spark ignites this week.

gemini: your mercurial ruling planet has a busy week of significant aspects ahead. this corresponds to a roller coaster of ups and downs throughout your week. everything is temporary and nothing is all the way off limits, so use what you can and don't sweat the rest too much.

cancerians: venus pops into your 5th house, virtually guaranteeing a good time, especially for single cancerians seeking to be swept off their feet. but don't forget, eclipse season is still in progress, and this week is prep for a big solar eclipse in libra perfecting next week. it's real love but it's not steady, stable, or certain. enjoy it anyway!

leo: beautify your home and bring it all the harmony you can for auspicious as-above-so-below points. meanwhile, expect changes to your career or public image, but don't try to bring them about yourself or force anything. better to let that play out on its own and focus on your sanctum and your own personal lair at this time.

virgo: mercury, from its vantage point of your sign, gets some interaction with all the three outermost planets this week. which means you're getting input and intel from out there, intense, overarching vibrations. it may or may not shake up your day to day life, but you can expect developments when it comes to fun, romance, partnership, intimacy, and shared resources.

libra: your ruling planet venus heads out of your sign and into scorpio early this week but don't let anyone convince you this is somehow unfavorable. this can attract lots of money and other helpful resources for your sign more than for others. not long afterwards, mercury enters your sign anyway, which maintains your higher-than-average charisma and eloquence levels.

scorpio: you have bigger love and romance vibes than most other people do this week. this goes mostly favorable, especially if you are open to changes and you are doing your so-called inner work. journaling will especially be favorable all week .

sagittarius: talk to your friends and acquaintances! it is likely you will encounter an unexpectedly helpful person in this time. meanwhile a dedicated self love practice is also auspicious this week. not just pampering yourself, but really giving your inner child what they never had as an actual child, and doing the responsible things you must do as an adult... but also pampering, yes.

capricorn: if you can, go extra out of your way this week to appreciate your broader social support system. not just your spouse, your partner, your parent, your best friend, but also everyone you could turn to for help in a crisis, or the local people around you who, say, make your coffee, bag your groceries, etc.

aquarius: you'll get a lot of subtle hints this week as to things that are to come but you'll have to pay close attention to get the message. it won't smack you over the head. it's a little whisper in a crowd that you overhear, or something about the way the light falls around you, etc.

pisces: the biggest part of eclipse season, for you, has passed, but it isn't over yet at all. you're still integrating the recent lunar eclipse in your sign, and a solar eclipse in libra is coming next (not this) week. so this interim period is full of omens and growth for you.

[lej222]

Supernatural Involvement and Ominous Signs in ASLFUA

For a while, many readers have theorized that there is some kind of a higher power/higher being in ASLFUA, and looking at the latest episodes it seems to have been confirmed. With this post, I've tried to gather every instance of the higher power's implied presence and all the ominous scenes in the story. I also included foreshadowing scenes that could have made Miae aware of certain things if she had paid attention because coincidences are important in the story, and certain moments that were defining in the plot.

Episode 2 :

Miae is reading a book in the library about how the last day of 1999 will be the end of the world: "'1999, a terrifying overlord is coming...the end of the human race.." -> this might be a reference to the famous prophecy of Nostradamus in which in the 7th month of 1999 a great king of terror would descend from the skies (which makes me think...is it July in the story right now?)

The Hwang family's phone stops working

Miae's dresser breaks and therefore she has to take out the trash, where she sees Cheol crying

"This boy is about to be this girl's most special person, someone whom she will never be able to forget."

Episode 3

Miae and her mother visit the Buddha statue and Miae's wish is not to be in the same class with Cheol - it doesn't come true.

Miae, Cheol and Jisu all become classmates in their last year. Miae and Cheol become deskmates by coincidence.

Episode 4

Cheol's furniture becomes Miae's, along with the contents of his dresser, something only he knows about

Episode 5

Yunhui calls Miae on their new cordless phone, the line is interrupted by another conversation, "Did you get the present I sent you?" - it sounds like a message to Miae from the higher power about Cheol

Episode 8

Miae ruins her bangs, her mother says she should do something about her hair - the first time we are told Miae should go to a hairdresser to fix it

Hwanggeum Academy uses corporal punishment - might be relevant later on?

Miae has to go to karaoke so she gives up on going to the hair salon (this foreshadowing is super crazy btw)

Episode 9

Cheol is compared to the protagonist of the comic Miae reads, 'My First Love Next Door Is Number 1' - gets into trouble and transfers, fights the school bully and wins, nicknamed Lucifer, has a facial scar, lives next door

As Miae is thinking about Cheol, her thoughts are interrupted by a cockroach in the classroom

Episode 11

Miae notes how strange it is that she keeps seeing Cheol while they didn't bump into each other the previous year (just like how Jisu later keeps commenting how strange he keeps meeting Miae) - Miae acknowledges the higher power

Yunhui's pager says "between friends goodbye"

Episode 12

Miae has a weird feeling when she's talking to Cheol's shoe as if it understands what she's saying

Episode 15

In her dream, Miae remembers Cheol crying and her making a wish with a stone tower about how she wants to be his friend. The phone suddenly rings, the TV becomes static and there's a storm outside despite the weather forecast not saying anything about it. The other end of the phone is silent and the lights go out.

Episode 17

Cheol's shoe gets smudged with ink so Miae cannot give it back to him. She cannot concentrate on her practice test, foreshadowing her involvement with Cheol's academy.

Episode 21

Miae again remembers some memories about Cheol saying he doesn't want to be her friend while she's sleeping

Side note: while Soonkki is a great writer, there's some inconsistency about Jisu's seating arrangement. I think she always meant him to sit in Block 1, that's why we got limited panels of that area of the classroom, but his position kept changing until his official introduction. Here, he should have been sitting in front of Seonghan, but there's another boy in that seat. In episode 23, we get a panel of Block1 again, and there's a boy who looks like Jisu from behind in that.

She again remembers her time with Cheol while sleeping on the bus

Episode 24

Daebak Academy notebook says "The teacher is spoon-feeding you, so why can't you pass" -> the higher power is giving hints to Miae, why can't she understand them?

Episode 29

Miae thinks about how she doesn't bump into Cheol as much as before, we get a close-up of the shoe and the Daebak Academy notebook

Episode 37

Miae falls on Cheol while playing soccer

Episode 39

Miae and Cheol are arguing but still bump into each other because of their parents

While Miae thinks about how Cheol should smile at people, she almost gets hit by a ball but Cheol saves her.

Episode 40

Cheol goes to Miae's house to do their homework. Miae's mother says she wonders if it will rain before she leaves. Cheol tries to change the lightbulb in Miae's room, but the lights go out because of the storm. Miae thinks "again?" and they fall on each other. She tells Cheol they should be friends.

Episode 41

Cheol agrees to be Miae's friend and we see a flashback of young Miae wishing they would be friends. While they are doing their homework the rain stops. Miae says planes even fly in the rain and Cheol replies that airplanes fly above the clouds.

Episode 42

Miae answers their phone and the line is interrupted again. Someone thanks their boss for the present and says they will do well on their own from now. -> is it a sign Miae should do well on her own after the hints?

Interesting to note that every time Miae might be involved with the higher power, certain objects in her room are highlighted - Cheol's shoe, the lamp, the notebooks. They all give signs to Miae that she keeps ignoring.

Episode 43

Cheol and Yonghui point out that Miae should get a haircut. Miae ends up cutting it herself instead of going to a salon.

Episode 45

Miae wishes upon a star instead of a plane so that the presentation in class will go okay. This actually comes true, as also noted by the narrator in ep 46.

Episode 46

Daebak Academy booklet says "nothing comes easy"

Episode 47

Something I've noticed is that throughout the story Miae keeps thinking she forgot something, and there's usually a situation that seems like the answer to it. Here, it turns out she forgot about Jinseop's homework. And Taekwang's song is about how someone cannot do both things at the same time. It was the same when she forgot about her homework while playing soccer. Forgetting about things is a recurring plot point for Miae, which culminates in the Jisu subplot where we learn Miae completely forgot about his existence even though she didn't have many friends who were boys.

Episode 50

Cheol's father wants to take a picture of Cheol and Miae, but Cheol refuses

Episode 51

Miae again cuts her own hair and wonders if she cut it too straight

Episode 55

Cheol kicks Miae's pencil into Jisu's chair (side note: you can see here again how Jisu's seating arrangement was inconsistent, he should have been closer to the window)

Episode 56

Miae gets sent out to the corridor with Jisu

Miae's friends talk about handsome boys and someone mentions the number1 student (Jisu)

Episode 60

Jisu becomes Miae's folk dance partner - the first time Cheol and Miae are not doing something together

Episode 61

Hwanggeum Academy booklet says "there's nothing you can't do if you put the work in, do not expect a miracle" when Miae is struggling with the dance

Episode 65

Cheol's father takes a picture of Cheol and Miae after the sports festival

Episode 66

In Miae's dream, Cheol's sister says for a while means 5-6 yrs, Miae counts she will be in middle school by then. There's also a memory of Miae running after Cheol, saying "wait for me".

Miae's mother tells her to get a haircut but Miae replies she needs a bigger allowance for it.

The narrator says Miae should watch where she's walking after she bumps into Cheol.

Episode 67

Miae loses her name tag and Jisu finds it

Episode 70

Miae wonders how her wishes never come true, but remembers she also made one with the stone tower as a kid, but cannot recall what it was about.

Episode 71

Miae's mom notes their phone keeps ringing since yesterday. The day before Miae wanted to tease Cheol with how she heard him saying he "loved her" in the shop and she saw him shirtless the same night.

Miae doesn't realize it was Jisu who called her a pervert

Episode 72

Miae notices someone wearing her name tag (Jisu), but doesn't find the culprit

Episode 75

Cheol wants to ask Miae something, but the homeroom teacher interrupts. Miae and Jisu get called to the teachers' room and have to do cleaning duty together for a week.

Episode 76

We see Miae's mom at a hair salon - could the lady in orange be Jisu's mother? who knows

Episode 77

Cheol stands up for Miae, but when Honggyu asks if they are dating, they both vehemently deny it. It suddenly starts raining.

Episode 78

Miae and cheol promise to be friends for real, forever. The narration comments, "But will they end up regretting their promise?". The rain stops. "1999, the final year of the century is half over" -> Miae's story is half over at this point. I have pointed out this before, but the series seems to be about the transition period between childhood and young adulthood, symbolized by the last year before the new millennium. Hence the title, 'green apple academy'

In her dream, Miae remembers asking Cheol if they are friends. She is awoken by their phone. the Daebak Academy notebook says "you are in danger if you are relaxed" and we see a girl talking to Cheol.

Episode 81

Cheol and Miae fall on each other and almost kiss, but the phone rings. Later, they do end up in the same position with an accidental kiss.

Episode 82

Miae wants to confront Cheol about the kiss and gets embarrassed, but her actions are interrupted when the trash bag she gave Jisu splits open, spilling its contents. Miae runs to him to collect it.

Episode 83

While Miae talks to her friends, she thinks back on her memories with Cheol and the narration says "I always liked.." and Miae looks surprised by it.

Episode 86

Interesting detail that Cheol doesn't know why Miae keeps looking at airplanes. If we assume she has a reason for doing it from the past, it's likely not related to Cheol.

Episode 87

Miae uses the trashbag as an excuse to run away from Cheol, repeating how she has to throw it out. All of a sudden, Jisu appears and takes it out of her hand, giving her a chance to run. It's just my personal theory that the trashbag here symbolizes Miae's vulnerability and reluctance to face her feelings, and Jisu takes it from her hand. It makes sense when we remember how his words made her think about her actions when she wanted to interrupt the confession. It's a great early foreshadowing that Jisu might play an important role in Miae's growth story as her voice of reason.

Episode 89

Cheol and Miae take photos together in a photo booth, first with Jinseop and Song-I, then the two of them alone. We don't know if Miae still has her pictures, but we can assume she somehow lost them during running around from the bullies because we never see them again. Cheol gives her a new name tag in the next episode.

Episode 95

Cheol gifts Miae an airplane model for her birthday. I personally believe this episode marks the end of the first part of the story and it's a turning point, but more about this under ep96.

Episode 96

The series has had 2 symbolic illustrations at the end of 2 episodes. The first one was at the end of ep2, when Cheol and Miae's story started in the present:

Miae is offering a green apple to Cheol - a biblical allusion, here, the green apple probably signifies how Miae helps Cheol in the first part of the story to mature and grow as a person with her own knowledge.

This illustration comes at the end of ep96. Like I mentioned, I believe this marks the start of the second half of the story which focuses on Miae's growth as a person. Space is an important concept in the series, Miae also has planet stickers on the wall of her room,has a charm on her bag, etc.

"16 years old. An age much like the universe." "16 years old. An age where it's like you're thrown into space." - highlights the narration.

But why is it compared to space? We have the illustration right after Jisu splashes water on Miae's face and Cheol wakes up from his dream. In my opinion, it's because this is where these kids' limited worlds start to expand. In part 1, Cheol and Miae were mainly together, but as you grow up you start to feel like you're just one insignificant part of a greater whole. You might feel like you're the center of the universe when you're a teenager, and that the world is ending when you experience negative emotions, but as the illustration shows us, it's not just Miae and Cheol standing alone in the universe. There are other people, facing different directions, but they are all interconnected by an invisible force. Miae is looking at Cheol, but Jisu is standing in her shadow- because even though she was not aware of him, Jisu had his own life happening parallel to what we saw in part1, and this is where he starts to have an intersection with Miae. If there is a higher power in the story, it is aware of all these connections and talks about youth in a nostalgic way. The sense that these moments are fleeting is always present in the story, however, connections formed between individuals will always have a lasting impact, just like how the universe will continue to exist. Being thrown into space might feel like losing your footing, but here it's the personal relationships that ground these teenagers and make them stay close to Earth.

Episode 98

The teacher tells Miae to cut her hair after Jisu takes the blame for ruining the plant.

Cheol is acting strange because of his dream, and while Jisu looks at Miae the narration box says: "16 years old. An age riddled with the unknown, just like the universe."

Episode 99

Miae's hair gets stuck in the zipper of Cheol's bag and he pulls it out, ruining her bangs in the process. They go to the infirmary after Miae gets scratched by the zipper.

Episode 100

At the countryside, while Miae picked a flower she thought how nice it would be if Cheol came to her school - and it became true. She thinks how it was so strange -> Miae again unknowingly acknowledges the higher power when it comes to Cheol

Episode 101

It's raining and the TV is not working in Cheol's home. He remembers taking a picture with Miae in the countryside. He asks his father about the picture on the sports day -> the data was lost. Miae gets grounded by her mother and she wants her to quit the academy.

Episode 102

I've mentioned symbolic objects in the story, but this one was noted by other readers as well: in ep 101, Miae accidentally drops the chalkboard eraser out of the window and Jisu fails to catch it - but Cheol does. However, in this episode Miae tosses it back to Jisu before saying she hopes they'll never see each other again (it's the first, but not the last time she declares it).

Cheol fails to convince Miae's mom about the academy -> Miae's mom points out Miae's grades have been dropping since last year. She makes her stance clear - she wants Miae to study.

Episode 103

It's raining and Miae cannot open Cheol's drawer in her room.

She tries to cut her hair, but the phone rings. On the other line, Miae hears someone saying "I only did what I did because you wanted it so bad, but you screwed up that chance! You don't deserve that project, I'm going to hand it to someone else." -> the first time the higher power tries to directly say Miae is late

Miae's mom cuts her hair instead of sending her to a salon...

Miae loses the name tag Cheol gave her

Episode 104

Jisu says "see you again" to Miae (and will keep saying for a while lol). Miae points out she never wanted to see him again.

Episode 106

After the teacher discovers their conversations in class, Miae and Cheol get separated and Miae becomes Jisu's deskmate. Miae and Cheol are not allowed to interact until the final exams are over.

Hwanggeum Academy's notebook remarks "Do you regret it now?"

Episode 107

Miae dreams about the flower from the countryside and a voice says she should hurry up and do what she wants about her wish if she remembers. She doesn't remember and the voice gets angry, Cheol appears and crushes the flower, telling her if she doesn't remember she should just forget it. The voice remarks Cheol is angry because Miae is late.

Episode 111

Jisu, who has also become aware of the coincidences, tells Cheol he's not the only one having something special with Miae.

When Miae calls Jisu her friend from the same class and tells him he should learn for himself, Jisu tries to say something, but he is interrupted by Cheol.

Episode 112

Miae thinks about their bet and how she should ask something serious, something more than friends do from Cheol, and we get a bunch of error messages. Cheol's dream is all fuzzy.

Jisu wins the bet, but we never get to know his wish because Miae gets angry at him.

Episode 115

The narration points out Cheol has changed and matured a lot, is it Miae's turn?

Episode 116

We see some posters about a summer festival, the forest in Midsummer Night's Dream and how everything is the product of coincidence. The forest in Shakespeare's play is dominated by the supernatural - what we have in common with this story is the forest Miae and Cheol played together as kids, and obviously the involvement of a higher power. The coincidences poster is possibly a reference to Carl Jung's Synchronicity, a concept that states that seemingly meaningful coincidences have a deeper meaning, they don't have a rational explanation - almost like destiny, a deeper order in the universe. It's a connection between one's psyche and the material world. Jung used this to argue for the existence of the paranormal. For example, if you cannot decide something, you might come across a book on the topic. What a coincidence, right? In this interpretation, everything is interconnected in the universe, and we are a part of this web of connections. So those coincidences...were actually not coincidences. -> Hmmmmm.....I wonder.....meaningful coincidences, the universe, connections...why do they sound familiar??? BECAUSE OUR STORY IS EXACTLY ABOUT THIS NOTION! Who notices these coincidences? Miae about Cheol, Jisu about Miae....Soonkki, you deserve my applause! Because it was exactly what I said about the art at the end of ep 96 and the placement of the characters. Mind? Blown!

Miae thinks that she feels something is wrong

Yunhui's pager says friends goodbye

Jisu gets involved in the Yonghui-Yunhui storyline by coincidence

Episode 117

We see all the coincidences from Jisu's perspective and how he became aware of them. And what does he say about them? That they are fascinating and kind of funny! My boy Jisu got the synchronicity message.

This is the 3rd time Miae and Jisu didn't hold hands. The first time Miae pretended to help him up, only for him to fall back. Then Jisu held out his hand after the exam, but she didn't take it. Here, he again reaches out and Miae doesn't take his hand. Remember this later!

Episode 118

Someone steps on Cheol's bag, and he's worried it might be Taeuk

Jisu wants to join in another bet in exchange for his help

Episode 119

Jisu gets involved in the Shim storyline, and as we know from later he picks up the cigarettes to get revenge on him

Episode 122

Miae learns that Cheol rejected Seonyeong and the lights flicker in her room

She cannot remember her dream. The narration says that she should have realized that something changed.

Episode 123

Miae notes that she experienced the kiss in the comic book with Cheol

Jisu almost catches her, but Cheol pushes him away

Episode 126

The parents are having dinner together at a pig feet restaurant and toast for the future of their children. The TV is not working, and a boy who looks like Jisu tries to fix it.

Miae kisses Cheol

Episode 127

Miae has a dream again in the white dress. As she realizes she might like Cheol, the voice says she's too late and there's no use regretting it.

Episode 129

Miae remembers that they took a picture in the countryside together and wants to take one now. She makes a wish to an airplane about how she just wants one photo, and remarks that the planes never granted her wish before. Spoiler, they won't this time, either.

Miae chooses to take the picture with Cheol. The narration box says "she's always done whatever she sets her mind to. That has always been one of her better attributes. But Mi-ae, it seems as though you keep forgetting something. I told you, you're too late."

The pager's message means idiot, cancelled and it suddenly starts raining. Maie and Cheol cannot take their photo and Cheol cannot give her back the hairpin she dropped a few eps ago.

Episode 132

Graduation photos were postponed until the second semester

In Miae's dream, the voice says she's all over the place and cannot decide what she wants from Cheol. In her memory, Miae wishes at the stone tower that Cheol would like her back. The voice angrily remarks how it must not mean much to her.

Episode 133

While Cheol and Miae are looking at each other, Miae is smacked in the face by a flyer. Later while they are riding the bike, Cheol almost says she looks pretty but he is hit in the face with a flyer that belonged to Jisu.

Episode 134

Miae takes the cigarettes from Jisu and puts them in her backpack

While Jisu and Miae look at each other, the narration box says "Well. this is what we would call fate. What do you think?" Miae can sense the voice and dismisses it.

Jisu again says "see you later" and Miae answers let's not, but Jisu replies they never know and it would be fun.

On the radio in Miae's room there's a voice speaking, asking if it was a success and how there is something you can't stop thinking about. "A friend? The fact that you weren't wrong? Whatever it is, I don't think it's such a bad thing to obsess over it a little bit. I hope you have no regrets about it."

Episode 135

Miae's eyebrow and bangs are so ruined she has to finally go to a hair salon. Yunhui gives her money and says there's a cheap place where she can go. It turns out Jisu's mother is a hairdresser and after realizing she is Jisu's friend, she doesn't ask for money. So if anyone ever wondered why Miae kept ruining her hair in the story, here's the answer....

The narration says "Now that I think about it, this was about the time..wait,no, it was a little bit earlier that things started to go wrong, little by little. You two were completely oblivious, though. Just you two."

Miae's mother goes to the academy. One theory I can give on this is that Miae's family might be moving. She wished for it at the start of the story, mentions it in a later episode as well. Who knows ~

Episode 138

Miae doesn't tell Cheol her feelings because of her pride as she feels like she would lose first

Miae has a feeling as if something is trying to make her look bad in front of Cheol and her gun suddenly starts working

Everybody forgot to buy the picture they took together in ep 139

Episode 140

After conveying their feelings indirectly to each other, Miae tells Cheol they cannot date right now because her mom wouldn't allow it. She plans to go to the same high school, university, everything and thinks there's no one to stop them so nothing can go wrong.

Episode 141

Cheol imagines high school together with Miae and their friends

Miae says they should not be obvious before the entrance exam and they start to think of it as a competition

Someone watches them from the street

Episode 144-145

We get everything from Cheol's POV

Cheol got his scar because he wanted to give Miae the romance book she liked before they left and he fell on the stone tower

The picture his dad took of them is about a young Cheol accidentally kneeling with flowers in his hands, the same flowers from Miae's dream, in front of Miae. This picture was in the book Cheol and his family kept.

Cheol realized the book was in his dresser that is now in Miae's room, the one she couldn't open before

Episode 146

Miae sees two flyers in the newspaper, one is about how a student still didn't give it up, the other is about changing one's car

On the street, the same car ads keep flying after her in the wind

Miae goes with Yonghui to wait in a line and the same flyers are all over the place

Episode 147

Miae wants to call Cheol, but Jisu stops her. Miae notices how often they have met during vacation, and Jisu says these coincidences are fun. Miae is standing on the car ad, they look down on it with Jisu, then she kicks it away. Jisu tells her he has a feeling they will meet again, but Miae hopes they won't.

The academy is also full of the car ads and Miae falls on them

Miae ends up with a bubble gum in her hair and goes to Jisu's house to fix it. Jisu tells her she should stay because he is bored, and there is a car ad on a stool.

Episode 148

We see some of Jisu's childhood memories and he was called a magpie by Miae which was a symbolic choice (I also made a post about it). Jisu in this story is the grateful magpie.

Miae and Jisu "touch hands" for the first time when they high-five (I wrote about how their hand hold never happened before)

After spotting some men smoking, Jisu tells Miae to go inside (one of them might be his father?)

Episode 149

Miae finally remembers Jisu

the narration boxs keeps saying how Jisu is cool and showing heart-thumping sounds and Miae is confused about these strange things

Miae not remembering Jisu was an important plot point considering she recalled everyone else from her past. As I theorized, memories and fate seem to be intertwined, the synchronicity theory also supports this. Synchronicity happens when seemingly unrelated events coincide and they become significant to you. It's easy to see why Jisu was aware of this notion, but Miae was not - because Miae had no idea about those coincidences other than meeting Jisu randomly. Him being her classmate, being the one who found her pencil, who helped her in the crowd, found her name tag, etc. - only Jisu knew about these. But right now, Miae was made aware that they knew each other in the past - a pretty big coincidence.

So now that Miae might have kickstarted her own fate, the question is whether she will be able to fight it or if there are certain things bound to happen no matter what. Is the narrator omnipotent and omniscient? So many questions that will hopefully get answered.

[dullgecko]

Fig doesn’t hate photos of her before her she knew she was a tiefling but she really doesn’t like other people seeing them. That does not stop her friends and her parents conspiring against her to see them every chance they get. (She can’t be too mad it’s not like they don’t do the same to the other bad kids who have photos of them as children)

"How in the hells do you have pictures of me as a baby on your fantasy-gram." Fabian flicked his thumb across his crystal screen, scrolling further and further down the timeline of Figs 'party pics' account. Eyebrow arching as he kept finding more and more photos that he didn't even realise existed the further back he went.

Sure there were pictures of the other Bad Kids, but he was more focused on the ones of himself. He did notice that he hadn't found any of Adaine yet but that was to be expected given her parents. There also weren't any of The Ball but Fabian was convinced goblins just appeared fully formed at about eight years old spontaniously.... or grew from plants or something... he'd never seen a baby one before after all.

"Oh, Halariel showed me some of your photo albums when i went to visit Gilear the other day. I thought they were cute." Fig leaned over the table of the diner, trying to see exactly which ones Fabian was looking at now that he'd found her alt account.

"Yes but why are there so many pictures of me?" Fabian tipped his head to the side, finally finding one of Gorgug posted almost a year prior in between a thousand candid shots of their adventures so far.

"Oh yours are just the most recent. I have a bunch of Adaine in daycare that Riz hunted down for me if you go back far enough. I paid him to do his detective thing." She tapped on the screen, bringing it out of chronological order so she could select the album marked 'little bad kids' and bring up just the childhood photos.

"Hey, what are you looking at?" Riz shook his head a bit before clambering up into the booth with them, hair wet from the light rain that had started during his walk. Peering at Fabians crystal as he continued to scroll through the ridiculously large collection of photos. "Oh nice you've added to the collection."

"Can't help but notice there are none of you here, The Ball." Fabian scrolled back up when he finally found one of Kristen, their cleric standing on a stage of some kind and dressed as a giant ear of corn.

"Prff. Yeah that one I found in her old middle schools yearbooks..... also I was never a baby so there's no pictures." The goblin deadpanned, shifting to sit properly on the bench so he could pull out his crystal and peruse the new photos Fig had posted. Fig would never get her hands on his baby pictures, he'd hidden them extremely well.

"Ah. Of course." Fabian nodded, fully believing Rizs statement as he continued to scroll. Finally reaching the bottom of the album after flicking through a sea of tiny Gorgugs. "You also seem to be missing from this collection Fig. If it's little bad kids I feel you should also be included."

"Prff naaah, noone wants to see my baby photos they're lame." Fig flapped a hand at Fabian, the fighter arching an eyebrow at her before leaning over to stage whisper to Riz.

"What are your rates?"

Riz grinned, mischief sparkling in his eyes as he held an empty hand up in front of Fabian without breaking eye contact with his crystal. The goblin flicking his wrist with a simple sleight of hand trick to make a single polaroid picture of a tiny, pink skirted and pigtailed Fig appear between two if his fingers.

"First one is free. Five silver for any subsequent requests."

[ghoulfuckersincorporated]

If I have to deal with brain rot about this absolutely awful man, so do y'all! Really looking forward to playing Dead Money so I can torture you with more.

Dean Domino (Fallout: New Vegas, Dead Money DLC) NSFW Headcanons

Is the King of Swing good in bed? Complicated question; he's too selfish to say that he is with any confidence. It depends on the day, frankly. He was a massive slut back in his prime, and he's perfectly well acquainted with how to show you a good time when the two of you are in bed together. Whether or not he cares enough in that moment to bother to make you cum is an entirely different matter. There are days he wants to show off, wants to hear you tell him how good he is, but there are also plenty of days where he'll happily use your body to jerk himself off and won't think for a second about your pleasure beyond what it'll do for him. On days like that, he wants you wet/stretched enough to take him, but that's all he cares about.

I've discussed this with folks a bit in replies on other posts, but I think it's very worth elaborating on: he would be so fun to dominate. He'd be the world's most petulant, bratty sub, and so confident that you wouldn't be able to break him, that he'll stay cool and in control of the situation, no problem. However, he's sorely mistaken. Dean Domino is a brat who was made to be broken. Tie his ass up and beat him a bit. Edge him until he literally cries. He insists he won't beg; prove him wrong. It's the sweetest sight you've ever taken in. I've never met a single character who needs to have his cock slapped like a million times more than him. And honestly, I think if you gave him the full routine and then treated him completely neutrally over the proceeding few days, as if nothing had even happened, he'd beg then, too, desperate to experience what you made him feel again...though not without a lot of petulant bitching first. How dare you act like you can drag him around by his prick, just because you absolutely can if you do it right...?!

Any ongoing relationship with Dean is going to be a constant power struggle. As insecure as he obviously is, he's forever rearing to "put you in your place" in a litany of ways; talking down to you, insulting you flippantly, all the nonsense you see from him when you interact with him in-game. If you don't push back at him (or show him where his place is, per the previous point), he will absolutely walk all over you, including sexually. Maybe that's what you're into. He doesn't really care all that much as long as he's getting whatever he wants out of you.

Biter. Always has been. Used to get a kick outta fucking actors and actresses and just covering them in bite marks and bruises that would be incredibly difficult to cover with makeup, because he likes attention and he's possessive, even of toys he doesn't particularly want to play with anymore.

Almost never takes off those goddamn sunglasses (because, in my mind, he thinks they make him harder to read...plus, he has super light-colored eyes, and once he's traveling the desert, he's constantly blinded by the sun), but one of the rare times you can guarantee he'll remove them is when you're giving him head. He wants to be able to see every detail of you worshiping him with your lips and tongue.

Obviously he's big into degradation, which is clear in the way he speaks to you, about you and others. He can, however, be persuaded to be rather sweet (though still entirely self-aggrandizing) when he's in a good mood. He'll tell you how gorgeous you look...on his cock. What a pretty voice you have...why don't you sing for him some more so he can hear how good he makes you feel? Every compliment also has to basically be a positive comment to himself, as well.

Leg and ass man. He makes some comments about Vera that hint at this, but he's not usually quite so tactful about it. Will openly grope you in public, both to embarrass you a bit and because he doesn't care enough to hold back when he feels like touching you.

Really enjoys a giving you a good cum facial. He finds it just the right mix of disgusting, dominating, and possessive. If he can find a way to force you to keep his cum on your face, he will. Even better if someone else sees you that way.

[waterfire1848]

Sokkla Opposite AU, where Sokka is the banished Water Empire Prince looking for the Avatar and Azula is the last firebender of Hira'a who just found a boy inside a volcano.

Hello, @stardust948 !!! (BTW Love this reverse AU!)

1. Azula grew up in Hira’a because that’s where Ursa took the children and fled to when the Water Tribe attacking (very big mistake making your main city basically in a bowl). Iroh, Ozai, Lu Ten, Azula and Zuko were living their lives in the royal palace when the WT attacked and Ursa took the kids and fled to Hira’a which is where they’ve spent most of their lives (13 years). Ursa never stopped telling her children stories about Caldera and a time before the Water Tribe attacked and the Avatar which Azula rejected by Zuko was mesmerized by. Azula never really thought the Avatar could be alive and instead wanted to focus on defeating the Water Tribe so that they could go home. Iroh, Ozai and Lu Ten all never come to Hira’a so Ursa has no clue what happened to them but, shortly before Aang comes, she’s killed by the Water Tribe (who are looking for any remaining members of the Royal Family). Azula is the last firebender left in the area and feels the weight of this everyday. One day, she and Zuko are by the volcano (Zuko: Yeah. The Water Tribe would never look for two firebenders near a volcano. What a crazy idea. Azula: Zuzu. Zuko: Yes? Azula: I will know you into the active volcano. Please shut up. I’m trying to focus.) Of course he doesn’t shut up, Azula gets made and a familiar airbender pops out.

2. Sokka was banished by his father because he’s a nonbender. (Kinda hypocritical since Hakoda’s a nonbender too but…) Basically, Sokka was scarred and banished because Hakoda wanted Katara to take charge. He believed that she, being a girl in the Water Tribe, would be far more easy to control when she was on the throne as opposed to Sokka. So, Hakoda tricks Sokka so that when he goes on a traditional hunt, Sokka is attacked by a polar bear dog and blinded in one eye and returns home empty handed. Hakoda regards this as Sokka’s failure to show he can’t lead (he can’t even catch some food for a family. How is he expected to lead a nation?) and banishes him to find the Avatar. When Sokka sees the light coming from the Fire Nation island, he knows that this is his moment. (Sokka: Gran Gran, do you know what this means?!?! Kanna: That we have to go to the land where 80 degrees is their record low temperature?). Sokka’s scar is three long scratches over his eye and he can’t see out of it, so he relies on his other eye and good hearing to detect things. Also, because of his lack of bending, he’s become an expert in weapons and hand to hand combat which aids him greatly in an initial fight against Zuko (which he wins easily) and he doesn’t get to fight Aang because the airbender goes with him without issue (Aang: I bet none of you Water Tribe soldiers have ever fought an airbender before…)

3. When the Fire Nation was attacked, firebenders fled all over the planet and were hunted down by the Water Empire. Realizing they were weak, a good number of firebenders took whatever resources they could find and fled to the old Sun Warriors civilization. Azula and Zuko, being former royalty, were able to get that information and tell Aang about it so he can learn firebending (I changed the cycle. It’s now air, fire, earth and water). However, to throw Sokka off their trial they have to make a couple stops in the Earth Kingdom first. (Azula: I’m telling you, based on how Aang flies that water prince won’t be able to track us. Aang: What do you mean how I fly? Azula: We literally flew across two islands then flew back to both of those islands. Aang: Seems normal to me Azula: Yeah, no one is figuring out our pattern.) In the Earth Kingdom, they find Mai, who also fled with her family but they went to the Earth Kingdom. Mai is still trained as a markswoman but now she’s also helping the Yuyan archers. (Zuko: MAI! Azula: Your girlfriend is alive after all. Aang: Girlfriend? Azula: Mai and Zuko were inseparable before the Water Tribe attacked Caldera. They literally did everything together. Zuko: What?! No, we didn’t. Azula: Okay, we’ll pretend. Maybe we can also pretend the sky isn’t blue, Appa isn’t big and the Water Tribe doesn’t suck too. Zuko: 😡 Azula: This is only proving my point). Mai agrees to join after realizing where they’re going and what they’re trying to do.

4. Bato is a bit different from Zhao. He’s a family friend, but also Bato doesn’t just tell Sokka not to try and capture Aang. He gives him a chance but when Sokka can’t, he steps in and tells Sokka to remain put while he handles it. (Kind of in a…. ‘You’re my kinda sorta nephew’ way). Would you believe that Sokka doesn’t listen? Bato figures out where they’re going and that that’s the hiding place of the firebenders. The Water Tribe empire sends as many ships as possible and attacks while Azula, Zuko and Aang are there. When they arrived to the Sun Warrior’s home, they met Ty Lee who became a sort of spiritual person since her time in Caldera and is very closely connected to the dragons. When the city is attacked, she and the dragons emerge to protect the people and one of the dragons is shot down. The Water Tribe has GREAT respect for the spirits but they don’t really care for the first benders of other nations so killing a dragon is not a big deal to them. You know who it is a big deal for? Aang. While Aang attacks the Water Tribe, Ty Lee sacrifices herself to become the second dragon and maintain balance. (Sokka: Bato! Bato! Bato, hardly breathing because the dragon drove its claws into his chest: Hey, Sokka. Sokka: BATO! Bato, don’t worry. We’ll get a healer and- Bato: Don’t. I’m okay. Sokka: The blood coming out of your body would say otherwise. Bato: Sokka, I don’t know what you know about your father’s plan but promise me you’ll stay safe. Sokka: I- Bato: Promise me. Sokka: I promise. Bato: Good. Good….Sokka: Bato?…Bato…😭) (Hakoda: Ugh! Advisor: Sir, I- Hakoda: Get Katara! Advisor: But the princess- Hakoda: Get her! Tell her that she has her first mission. Bringing her brother back and killing Team Avatar. I have a feeling her newest skill will be very useless for that.)

5. Katara in canon was incredibly strong on just a couple weeks of training. Now imagine her with years of training and being okay with bloodbending (yeah....not good). As the princess of the Water Empire, Katara has a military force behind her but chooses not to use it because she wants to move swiftly. To do so, she uses Yue and Suki to help her. Yue isn’t exactly a princess (since only Katara can fulfill that role) but because the Water Tribe is incredibly spiritual, she is held in high esteem for having some of Tui’s life force. Unlike Azula and Zuko in canon, Katara and Sokka get along great. The second Sokka sees Katara he runs over to hug her and ask her how she’s been. Katara really doesn’t have any bad intentions so she tells Sokka about the mission their father has given her and if he wants to help. Sokka grows worried though because he doesn’t have Aang and wonders why his father could want him back without the Avatar. (Katara: He wants you back. What’s the problem? Sokka: I just….I don’t know. It feels weird. Katara: He’s our father. Sokka: I know and I know he just wants what’s best for us both but- Katara: He probably wants you back now because the Avatar is back. Hope will return to the Earth Kingdom and whatever’s left of those ashmakers may come together again. We need our Prince. Sokka: You’re right. Katara: I always am. Sokka: Spirits, I forgot how annoying you are when you’re right. Katara: I’d like to think of it as more….announcing to the world that I’m smarter than you. Sokka: You were right in this one argument. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves). The first time the four meet the Gaang, Katara goes right for bloodbending and bloodbends them all. (Katara: You’re not living up to the legend, Avatar). She only losses because Azula hits her with enough fire that Katara has to back up and they escape on Appa. (Sokka: You learned to bloodbend during the day?!?! Katara: That’s not all I learned. Sokka: What do you mean? Katara: Let’s just say I have a very…creative way to make sure that little firebender and the Avatar never bend a single element again).

(Plus one) 6. In Ba Sing Se, Sokka realizes the truth: that Hakoda doesn’t want him to return and grows terrified of going back with Katara. With very limited options, since Katara is seconds from taking over the city, he decides to switch sides and make a desperate jump to Aang’s team (Azula: Why would you join us? Sokka:….The good of the world? Azula: 😑). Of course, no one on the team trusts him but they’re a little occupied with fighting Katara to really worry about that. While fighting in the final battle, it’s Katara vs Sokka, Azula and Aang and Katara is very angry that Sokka changed sides. She’s angry enough that it throws her off her game and she ends up at Azula’s mercy with a flame to her throat. (Aang: Azula, no! Azula: We have to! If we don’t kill her now then she’ll kill us later! Aang: No! We can’t kill her. Azula, taking her eyes off of Katara: Aang- Sokka, noticing what Katara is about to do: Azula, watch out! *He pushes her out of the way of one of Katara’s attacks and Katara sends an ice blade past Azula and straight into Sokka’s chest. Sokka: AHHHH!! Azula: Sokka!) Katara takes the moment of panic to attack Aang, bloodbending him and Azula down and removing Aang’s bending but being forced to flee (cause….the Earth King has guards) before she can remove Azula’s. Azula, Zuko and the guards get Aang and Sokka to a healer’s room while Katara, Yue and Suki flee the city without being detected. Azula remains with Sokka and Aang while they heal, staying with Sokka until he actually wakes up. (Azula: He saved my life. Zuko: He did. Maybe he has changed. Azula: Zuko: Azula? Azula: No one’s ever….Zuzu? Zuko: Yes? Azula: Nevermind. It’s not important. I’ll talk to Sokka when he wakes up.)

[thefrogdalorian]

Nice