#which is NOT a lot but it is still WONDERFUL that it's happened twice

[emeraldbloodcrown]

ONCE MORE

Chapter: One - Not Easy Pairing: Poly; Tattoo Artists!141 x Baker!Female Reader Summary: Deciding to get a head start in cleaning up the bakery, you end up hitting up the hardware store and meet a handsome stranger, willing to help you out. Content/Warning: Word Count: 2.6

Days passed, with both of you crashing in your old room, switching between who got to take the too old bed and who had to make due with a mattress on the floor. All of your essentials were strewn around your old desk or were still in your backpacks while the rest of your belongings had taken temporary residency in a storage facility.

In the meantime, you had been able to call a cleaning company and get them to sweep through the shop, taking all of the items that had fallen victim to the fire and documenting the damage for insurance. The safety assessment had already happened before your grandmother had written you, so today would be the first day, you’d be able to work towards the renovation.

You were sitting on the mattress, waiting for Anna to finish in the adjacent bathroom, while scrolling on your phone. You heard her return before you saw her as every step she took was accompanied by a small sound of discomfort.

“How can that bed be more uncomfortable than the damn floor?”

Without looking up, you answered her. “Cause it wasn’t chosen for comfort but for the design.” For emphasis, you clapped twice, making the LED butterflies around the frame light up.

“Never would’ve expected a 16-year old you to be so cheesy.”

“Don’t be jealous”

Anna stretched, letting out a satisfied groan when her spine cracked back into place, and she plopped down next to you.

“So what’s on the agenda?”

“Well we have someone coming to see if our electricity is intact, as well as check our plumbing, which wasn’t necessarily hit but since we have to renovate most everything, why not that too?”

Anna hummed.

“Grandma told me that the hardware store has some sort of sale today, so we should check that out and maybe get as much of what we’re gonna need as we can get.”

“Alright, you wanna do that? I can stay and be with the workers.”

“Yeah, let’s do that.”

Making a small detour to get yourself a quick breakfast on the way, after having to swear to your grandmother for the umpteenth time to only visit the family shops and ’not any of the fast-paced run of the mill stores that seemed to pop up everywhere’, you drove to the hardware store.

You still remembered it, having already existed for a long time before you were born but what had once been a small company with only a handful of employees, most of them related to each other, had expanded into a three story tall store.

When your grandmother had told you about needing your help with restoring her shop, you had anticipated that, until it got to the point of baking and selling, you’d be very out of your depth. Building had always been your grandfather’s thing, not something you held a lot of interest in, not that you would’ve been allowed to indulge in it if you had.

A part of you still recalled the look he had given you when you had needed a chisel for a school project and, not knowing the name for it, had just called it the ‘thing for wood stabbing’. An accurate description, you found, but he had not been amused.

So it wasn’t like you thought you would just wing it, but seeing the sheer size, and therefore implied variety in options, made you wonder if your original assessment of doing it yourself with the help of some friends and intense tutorials on YouTube wouldn’t just turn out to be very wishful thinking.

Still you decided to park your car and after minutes of circling the parking lot, you found a free spot quite a bit away out of the entrance. The sale had brought out more customers, you were sure, but you wondered just how well this shop was doing.

Grabbing a cart, you were still staring at the massive store, not watching where you were going and were suddenly taken out of your daydreaming when you stumbled into someone.

Losing your balance, you arm shot out to grab the pillar next to you to save you the landing on concrete, when at the same time the person grabbed your other arm, steadying you. Bitterly a part of you noticed, how he was completely unfazed by you bumping into him. He could’ve at least swayed a little out of politeness.

Apology and thanks already at the tip of your tongue, it remained exactly there when you took a look at the stranger.

At first glance, all you could think about was how handsome he looked, not quite sure if his rugged features was adding to that or if nothing could distract from and ruin his appearance.

He was wearing boots with dark jeans, both having seen better days, as they showed clear signs of wear and tear, as well as several paint blotches, with the jeans also having been haphazardly patched up.

Hoodie and coat were in the same condition, and you wondered if this was his usual attire for working.

Finally making it up to his face, you noticed his long hair, which peaked out underneath the beanie on top of his head, almost reaching his shoulders and curling around his neck. It seemed less of a fashion choice and more like he had just chosen to let his hair grow wild, which was only proven by the state of his beard. Full and long but also very unkempt.

Where you could see skin, he seemed to have strong feature, sharp jaw line only partially hidden but coming full force around his cheeks and brow. He looked wild, edging on dangerous but any fear his features might have caused were forgotten when you looked into his.

Blue.

Stunning and deep, and so very kind. There were little stress lines around them, accompanied by the darkness and bags underneath.

All in all, he looked rough, the kind you’d be polite to but keep a safe distance to. He looked like he had been dealt some shitty cards by life lately but despite it all, you couldn’t help but stare and think how beautiful those eyes of his were.

“Luv?”

And apparently he had also been blessed with an unfairly attractive voice.

In your daze, you only managed to reply with a dumbfounded: “Huh?”

Embarrassment flooded your system as soon as the words had left your mouth, pressing your lips into a thin line, before you tried to save some grace.

“Sorry, what was that?”

His hand on your arm tightened for a moment, only until he was sure you could keep your balance on your own, and then he let you go. You might not have noticed it, if it hadn’t been for you missing his warmth immediately, and the utter confusion at yourself that followed.

Alright. You made a mental note to check Tinder for any local hookups, if you were that touch starved that a stranger could cause such a reaction you were in more of a need for a good fuck than you had assumed.

“Was jus’ askin’ if you were alright. Didn’t get hurt?”

“I bumped into you. Should probably ask you that instead.”

The corners of his mouth lifted, making the lines around his eyes crinkle, giving his eyes a softer edge now.

“Takes a lot more than a pretty bird to send me tumblin’.”

You know it was meant to be a good-hearted joke, nothing serious but you still flushed a little and even he seemed taken aback by his words.

He cleared his throat, “So not hurt, right?”

Noticing the sudden awkwardness, you chose to simply hum in agreement and give him a little wave when you parted ways.

Except you didn’t, because as it turned out, you weren’t just heading to the same store but remaining on the same floor and even going to the same aisle. He looked over his shoulders, probably to make sure you weren’t some weird stalker but when he did, your eyes weren’t even on him.

Instead you looked up at the daunting and overwhelming variations of floor coatings, with more than half of them looking nearly indistinguishable to your very uninitiated eyes.

You looked and felt out of your depth and helpless, trying to figure out what the differences were, when your stranger took pity on you.

“First time?”

You heaved a sigh, “That obvious, huh?”

“‘fraid so. You want some help?”

You took a look at him but didn’t answer yet. Even in his kindness, he looked tired and you had a feeling that he would appreciate you rejecting his polite offer, but the chances of you faring without him were so thin, and with so many customers coming in for the sale, you doubted an employee would have enough time for you, so you couldn’t bring yourself to say no.

“My grandma will have my head for this but I fear I’m gonna need it.”

He smiled again and you found yourself thinking that you wouldn’t mind seeing it more often and making a mental note to try it for however long he was gonna help you.

“No beheading today. It’s no bother. What do you need?”

He closed the distance between you and you could feel the warmth radiating off of him. Pulling up the shopping list you had made beforehand, you turned your phone for him to see. His finger quickly scrolling over the display to see the length of the list before leading you to the first stop.

“I’m John, by the way.”

John turned out to be a saint, patiently explaining to you what each option he presented to you for each item on your list was for and what you needed to look out for when installing it.

“Pretty big project for a beginner.”

“Not by choice. My grandpa was the handyman in our family but I can’t really ask him, and actually calling in a service has always left me with outrageous bills. ‘Course I didn’t think I could just wing it, but last I was here this shop was much smaller.”

He hummed, taking one more glance at your phone before showing you another selection to choose from.

“Lived here before?”

“Yeah, grew up here for the most part actually.”

“Glad to be back?”

“For the most part, I guess. Not too sure just yet.”

John finished by putting the final piece into your cart, giving you a polite smile.

“Well, good luck to you.”

He turned on his heel but you stopped him as just letting him leave wasn’t sitting right by you.

“I know you said, it’s no bother but let me make it up to you.”

There was a moment where you looked at each other, both of you with crossed arms over your chest, trying to gauge who would give into the other first but John must’ve seen something in your eyes because he huffed a little before answering you.

“Alright, luv. Just give me a ring and I’m all yours.” He pulled a small notepad from one of his many coat pockets and quickly scribbled his number on it before handing it to you.

After he left you, you finally allowed you to smile at the weird encounter. That definitely hadn’t been on your schedule but you couldn’t find it in yourself to mind. Taking your cart, you pushed it towards check-out, bracing yourself for the next hurdle: actually paying for the many things in it.

There had been an easiness in John’s limbs as he got out of the shop, his lips almost humming as he got into the car and he caught himself tapping along the steering wheel but the closer he got to his destination, he felt the weight return, as if his bone marrow had turned into cement, dragging him down with every movement.

For a moment, he remained in his car after he parked, listening to the sounds around him and hoping against his better judgement to hear the familiar tunes, smell that scent of her baking, but of course there was nothing.

So he got out, grabbed his purchases and walked into his house. A house that was now solely his, despite the fact that it had been built for a family, for an ours. For her, by him.

The house was musty, needed to be aired and properly cleaned. John knew that if she could see the state it was in, she would throw a fit, tear him a new one for ever letting it come to this.

‘You gotta take care of our home’, she’d say, usually with a whisk in her hand, more often than not making her cinnamon apple buns, the very thing she brought him after their first date when he’d told he hated sweets and she’d told him, he’d love hers.

(She had been right.)

But that was just the thing. For her, their home had been their garden, the reading nook he’d built, the many pictures of their lives and all of the other finer things she had insisted on. For him, she had been his home, and with her gone, he couldn’t find it in him to care, partially hoping that the mess would call out to her and bring her back, even if he couldn’t.

Instead he had taken to disappearing in his work shed for hours on end, working on smaller and bigger projects, anything to take his mind of things. The only break of that routine was the daily phone call from Kate.

He answered her questions more on autopilot, but she hadn’t called him out for it yet so he counted his peaceful days for as long as he could, until she would inevitably drag him back to work to relieve Simon from doing his own and John’s job.

Almost, as if on cue, his phone rang, showing Kate’s number and he answered. He had the practiced replies ready for her but she finally asked him about what he had been doing, the words froze on the tip of his tongue, melted into liquid and got swallowed with saliva, as he surprised both Kate and himself by what he actually told he.

“I met someone today.”

“So what’s the verdict?”

Anna had come outside of the shop as soon as she saw your car pull up and had helped you with bringing your purchases inside. Afterwards, you had both grabbed a quick dinner, settling down on the ground while discussing your plans for the next step, also giving you a chance to check in with the results of her day.

“Well, thankfully it’s not really a must/red light situation and more a might as well/yellow situation. Both teams said that our electricity and water is working fine but that it’s gonna need some work soon, and since we’re already doing everything else, we might wanna look into that too.”

“That can’t be cheap…”

“Nope, but we should definitely be safe for at least a month or two. I mean, we did account for a lot of repairs.”

Taking a bite, you pointed at one of the papers next to her, the bright colors a stark contrast to the white of the service bills.

“What’s that?”

Following the direction of your finger, she pulled it out and showed it to you.

It was a flyer advertising an autumn festival, promising lots of foods, a show and some dancing.

“Didn’t take you for the type to go to these.”

Anna scoffed and shook her head.

“I’m not. But lots of the town’s people will probably be there.”

“And?” You prompted her to continue, not quite getting her point.

“And, your grandmother made such a fuss about community, not just from what you told me about her but also from all the times she reminded us to go to family shops instead of any of the new coffee shops or fast food restaurant. Would be a good way to get to know the people, maybe we’ll meet someone who can help us.”

[thatboxylady]

wait wait wait oh my god wait . per my last ask .

STOP BEING FUNNIER THAN EVERYONE ELSE IN MY ASK BOX

[flowersandbigteeth]

Would you ever consider doing an Orc royalty arranged marriage? The Orcs have taken over a Human kingdom, because of their low birthrate (and because humans are universal breeders). The Orcs start scanning the Humans in their newly conquered territory for the most genetically compatible mates, which the royalty obviously gets the first pick of because the royal line is seen as the most important. Reader happens to be the most compatible with a member of the nobility, or maybe even the royal family, and so is married off to Orc King/warlord or the Warlord’s son/the crown prince/heir.

Yes! This one was so fun to write ^_^. I had an idea for a reader with a speech disability in my drafts, and this seemed like the perfect scenario to use it. It's a little long and very fluffy. Now that I've done this one, I kind of want to do one about Vola's romance, as well. (how they met, etc.)

Orc King (Golmad) x f reader with speech disability

Word Count: 8k

TW: there is a lot of orc fluff followed by nsfw orc smut, p in v sex, some light violence, bullying by family member, arranged marriage, size difference

“Straighten your back (Y/N),” your mother snapped as she adjusted the obnoxious pink bow on your head. “You must look perfect for the King.” 

She wrinkled her nose at you. 

“Considering your…deformity…You need to look as pretty as possible, so he won't toss you aside.” 

“Oh, shut it, Mauria!” Your father chuckled, taking a thirsty sip of his wine. “A silent wife is a blessing! He’s gonna be thrilled!”  

She gave him a withering look before turning back to you and fussing with a lock of hair. Tears burned at the back of your eyes, but as usual, you said nothing. 

“Don't make that face, darling, smile!” 

You pasted a fake smile on your lips, wishing you could be anywhere else. She licked her thumb and rubbed some stray blush off your cheek before she took a step back, looking you over. 

“Wonderful! Like a little doll!” 

“Oh look, the future Queen,” your perfect big sister Starla sneered as she wandered to the pile of olives at your father's side, popping one in her mouth. “You sure you don't want to fuck one of the stableboys before that Orc splits you in two? I’d hate for you to die before you have your first orgasm!” 

She and your father cackled in laughter, but your mother frowned. Not because she insulted you, but because your mother was the pinnacle of decorum. 

“Don't talk like that, Starla. It makes you sound cheap. You're going to be Queen soon. You need to learn grace and discretion.” 

She snorted, grabbing your father's goblet of wine and taking a big gulp.

“When I'm Queen, Rotham will defeat all these miserable monsters and put their heads on pikes! Too bad (Y/N) won't live to see it after that awful creature snaps her like a twig!” 

Your smile fell, and you looked away. As the oldest daughter, Starla should have been the offering to the King of the Orcs. But Starla was beautiful and brilliant and talented and popular and…blah blah blah. Your parents couldn’t waste her on the insurgent Orc king. The nobles all thought they’d make a comeback, stage a coup, and everything would go back as it should be. Starla would marry the human prince, Rotham, still in hiding, and become the real Queen. 

You were the spare, a sacrifice to placate the enemy. Suffering a sickness as a child, your vocal cords were fused. You couldn't speak or make any noise other than whimpers and mewls. The snobby nobles your parents spent time with had labeled you damaged. When they bothered to speak to you, they acted as though you were dim, as well, which you were not. That was the only thing you surpassed Starla at, you were a very fast reader and quite good with math. 

When the Orcs overthrew the former King, they said they were looking for fertile human wives. Humans bore children at twice the rate of the Orcs, so they’d taken the kingdom to secure their hold on the region with big, robust families. 

 You were all required to submit a blood sample to determine if you were compatible, and then you'd be assigned to an Orc husband. Your mother didn't dare submit Starla’s blood. She had to remain untouched for the human prince. So she sent yours and one of the maids. Yours was a match…to the King. 

You all turned as an Orc dressed in fine livery appeared at the door. 

“The King will see you now,” he said, then turned and left. 

“Look how they dress themselves,” Starla whispered. “As if they're civilized! What a joke! He didn't even stay to escort us! Savages.” 

Your parents chittered while you sucked in a deep breath. Your mother shoved you through the door, eager to get to the negotiations, her favorite part of any encounter. 

“Back straight! Chin up! You are representing our family.” 

You stumbled forward, following the direction the Orc butler had gone. You'd been in the castle before, attending court with your parents, but as you stepped into the large hall, you saw it had all changed. 

The old tapestries had been torn down, replaced with large pelts of animals you'd never even seen before, their heads preserved and their eyes replaced with glass balls. The old wooden furniture was now twisted iron, probably made by the mountain dwarves, allies of the Orcs. They’d provided most of the weapons that led them to victory. The new flag, green with a bear and an axe pictured in silhouette, was hanging behind his throne. 

Orcs lined the gallery, laughing and chattering, but they all fell silent as you entered. You took a thick breath, forcing yourself to put one foot in front of the other and ignore their curious eyes. 

You heard Starla snort behind you as if this was all hilarious. Her disdain made you lift your chin. You would not go to the King as her joke. 

Your first glimpse of your future husband from across the long hall made your eyes widen. Even from far away, he was massive. He must have been nine or ten feet tall and wide as an Ox. 

On his broad shoulders, he wore a thick fur stole over a neat indigo shirt lined with the same cream fur. His thick legs were tucked in matching navy pants and imposing black boots. His outfit was surprisingly human. Behind him, massive shining weapons were arranged on a stand, just within arm's reach. 

When you arrived at the end of the carpet leading you to him, you curtsied as you'd been taught. 

You couldn't greet him verbally, so you waited for your mother to present you. 

“Your majesty!” She crooned. “Please let me present my lovely daughter (Y/N), your perfect blood match!” 

You tried not to tremble in front of him, but this close, he was so very large! His gold eyes passed over you, cool as cold metal. You’d never seen an Orc close-up before, and everyone had told you they were ugly, but the King in front of you was…not. No, he didn't look human, but his jaw was thick and sharp, and his eyes were a beautiful, rich color, like the setting sun. 

Thick black hair fell over one shoulder, shaved to the skin on one side. A full bottom lip wrapped around large tusks that were more exciting than unappealing. His skin was flawless, olive green that reminded you of a mossy forest. Everything about his countenance screamed royalty, though he didn't wear a crown like a human King, his head tipped up, unafraid and confident. Instead, a chunky gold chain link necklace hung around his neck, with a large diamond set at the center, identifying him as the regent.

Your breath became labored as the reality that he would soon be your husband set in. You had no idea how you could be compatible. He was almost twice your height!  

The King nodded for your mother to go on. 

“Unfortunately, my dear daughter suffered a sickness in her youth that stole her voice, but she's otherwise healthy, untouched, and fertile. Fit for a crea- King.”

The casual discussion of your sexual history in front of a hundred-odd strangers made you blush and dip the chin you'd been trying so hard to keep up.  Before you could stop it, a tear slipped down your cheek, and you hurriedly wiped it away, probably smearing blush across your cheek. Behind you, your sister snickered. 

You peered back up at the King, wondering if he was disappointed. His eyes darted to her, and his frown deepened before they returned to you. Your heart sank, assuming he was comparing you to your stunning sister. Instead, he did the last thing you expected. He signed to you. 

“Is your family always this tiresome?”

You released an audible gasp, one of the few sounds you could make, but signed back. Learning to read sign language was something your parents and sister never bothered to do. You’d learned from the kind chaplain at the church, one of the few places your mother allowed you to go alone. He thought you ought to have a way to communicate that didn’t involve scribbling notes on paper—your parents and pretty much everyone else preferred to communicate at you, not with you. 

“I'm sorry if they displease you, Your Majesty.” 

A wide smile spread on his lips as he signed back. 

“You are incredibly polite for the daughter of such fools.”

You giggled, and your parent’s wide eyes danced between you. 

“You don't have to see them again if you'd rather not.”

At that, your breath caught in your throat, and you chose your next thought carefully. 

“Please don't kill them, Your Majesty.”

That drew a deep chuckle from his throat. It was rich and smooth, like chocolate. 

“Since you asked so politely….but if you change your mind, just let me know.”

You gave him a tight nod, unsure if he was joking or not. 

Your mother, not appreciating being out of the loop, cleared her throat. 

“Since the two of you seem to be getting along so…familiarly…there's only the matter of the reward you promised. Of course, considering the status of the match, (Y/N) being the Queen and all…we expect a significant...investment.”

The Orcs promised to compensate every family for whichever daughter they took. It was the only way they could get the citizenry not to revolt at every turn. Making each daughter valuable in gold appealed to their sensibilities, especially after the draining war. A thick eyebrow shot up on the King’s face, and your mother continued with her pitch. 

“You wouldn't want the family of the Queen living in squalor. Not because we are greedy, of course. Never that. We are incredibly humble. But we lost a great deal of our fortune during the war. What would the citizens think? You don't want them assuming you scraped some farm girl from the manure pile. We are a noble family and must exude a certain level of status, don't you agree? Especially considering her condition.” 

Your eyes widened that your mother would be so bold, but his eyes shifted to her and narrowed. He rolled a finger in her direction, signaling her to go on.   

“What exactly do you mean about her condition?” 

Seeing an opening, your mother gave him a genteel smile. 

“Well, we understand that (Y/N) will never take an active role in your rule- Her value lies in the heirs she can produce.” 

“And isn't that a blessing?” Your father piped in. “A pretty little quiet wife is preferable, no? Worth twice a chatty wench!” 

Your mother shot him a look, and swatted him. 

“I'm just saying…” he muttered before she went on. 

“What I mean is…people will assume things about her. Due to our status, the nobles all know she’s…not all there. I don't know how it is for Orcs, but the court here is…discerning.” 

She turned to Starla. 

“If my other daughter had been at all match, we would have sent her since she's a far superior candidate for Queen. Pity it didn't work out that way. In any case, I'm only thinking of your image.”

He glanced at you, signing. 

“Are you sure about keeping them alive? I’m growing tired of this nattering, aren’t you?”

You giggled again, your mother shooting you a look full of vinegar.  

“Killing them is probably not a good plan. My mother is made of tough stuff…I'm sure she’ll return as a noisy wraith and torment you about your posture,” you signed back.  

He let out a roll of laughter, crooking his finger at you. Blushing, your eyebrows rose, but you took slow steps towards him. When you were within grabbing reach, he snapped you up and settled you on his lap. He was very warm compared to the lofty, cool hall and smelled like ginger and leather. You couldn’t help but stroke the shiny black hair that fell on your side of his shoulder. You didn’t mean to be so curious, but you’d never seen an Orc up close, and he was quite the specimen. His skin was smooth and velvety to the touch. Without thinking, you poked one of his tusks with your finger. He flashed you a smile, amused at your interest, before he returned to your mother. 

“Since you are all so thoughtfully concerned with my image, it would be best to make you at home here, in the castle. You can get a taste of Orc society. You won't need any gold here. All your needs will be provided for.” 

Your mouth fell open, trying to read his thoughts, but he only smirked at you. 

“How…kind, your majesty,” your mother said, ever the diplomat. 

Starla was not happy and stomped her foot. 

“Mother! You can’t be serious! I can't be seen with these savages! Rotham will think I've been touched by beasts!” 

Your hand clapped over your mouth, never thinking clever Starla would say something so brash. 

The King’s face turned severe. His easy smile had tricked you into thinking he was a gentle giant, but his business face was terrifying. You were thankful it wasn't directed at you. 

“Rotham? Our enemy's son, leading a band of traitorous supporters? Are you saying you are harboring a fugitive and dare to show your face in my court?” 

Starla backpedaled as quickly as she could. 

“Of course not, Your Majesty, it's…it’s…another Rotham…a man from the village…a…butcher.” 

He relaxed. Which was odd to you because you knew he didn't believe her lie. 

“Good. He should be pleased he has a chance with the Queen’s sister. You can invite him to dinner if you like.” 

Starla’s face blanched, but she nodded obediently. He waved at one of the Orcs standing to the side. 

“Show them to their quarters. We will convene for a meal to welcome our new Queen shortly.” 

 When they were gone, the King turned his attention back to you.

“Would you like the chef to prepare something special for your first dinner in the castle?” 

You had no idea what to say. No one had ever asked your preference or opinion on anything. 

“We should eat what is traditional. You are welcoming me into your family, Your Majesty. I’d like to know more about your customs.”

Though he seemed satisfied with your answer, he waved a dismissive hand at you. 

“Don't call me Your Majesty. We're meant to be married. My name is Golmad.” 

He fingerspelled the letters, then showed you the sign he used for it– the gestures for gold and bear, together. You returned the sign you used for your own name. 

“May I ask a question, Golmad?” 

“Anything. I don't want you to fear me, (Y/N).”  

You organized your thoughts for a moment before you formulated your question. 

“Why do you know sign language? I can hear; you could speak if it is easier.” 

He looked you over, his expression warm. 

“I learned for you. I wanted to speak to you in your language. I knew you were for me long before you took the test– over a year ago. The test is for your human sensibilities. Your people don't rely on instinct. Demanding the test makes it something they can understand. I know by scent your sister is compatible, as well. But I don't desire her.”

Your eyebrows popped up at that admission, and your heart thumped in your chest. You never expected such care from a battle-hardened Orc king. 

“But how? I've never seen you before!” 

He smirked. 

“We Orcs are stealthier than you humans know. It's in our nature to hunt our match.” 

You frowned, a vicious thought pricking your mind. 

“Did you pick me because I'm silent?” 

His eyes narrowed, but the expression they held was not cruel. 

“You are not silent. You speak differently, but you are not a doll without thoughts. Your mother is wrong. You are the best candidate to be Queen. If I had chosen your sister, do you think she would have appeared before me as you did?” 

He patted your chest, not to fondle you, but over your heart. 

“You are a survivor, brave, and virtuous. I trust you at my side.” 

You gasped, feeling more seen than ever before, but also the weight of the responsibilities on your shoulders.

“Now, we must prepare you for Orc society.”

He tugged the big bow on your head, tossing it on the floor when he'd pulled it loose. 

“An Orc Queen will not be dressed like a puppy.”

A smile spread across his lips, and he stood, so large he could carry you with very little effort. As you passed the Orcs lining the hall, they bowed to the two of you, giving you the first taste of what it meant to be Queen. 

The bedroom he brought you to was very different from a human King’s bedroom. It had more plants than furniture, large leafy vegetation planted in a generous selection of iron pots. His bed reminded you of a nest, a wide pallet layered with thick furs in colors ranging from white to rust red to pitch black. There wasn't a spot you could stand in the room where a weapon was not in reach. Axes and swords were mounted on the walls, and iron stands on the floor. Daggers of varying sizes seemed splayed haphazardly on every horizontal surface. 

Golmad set you down and began stripping off the clothes he wore. Your cheeks burned as he revealed thick muscle after thick muscle, but you were also a bit frightened. Was he going to take you now? His eyes met yours, which had to be as large as saucers. 

“I only wore this to speak with your parents. There is wisdom in accommodating humans occasionally. They see us as monsters. Dressing like them makes them more comfortable, but now that you are mine, they will need to grow accustomed to our culture.” 

You nodded, forcing your mouth closed, and he stopped undressing when he got to his pants. The bulky planes of his chest were plenty of eye candy. You weren't sure if you were ready for the rest. 

He let out a loud call, and two Orc women appeared at the door, holding folded stacks of fur and leather.

“These are my sisters Vola and Cayenne. Don't mind their doting. Orc families are very affectionate.”

They gave you a polite bow. 

“Greetings, Your Majesty,” they signed together after they’d deposited the fabrics on a table. When Golmad stepped out of the way, they circled you with big smiles, patting your hair and pinching your cheeks as if you were a new kitten. 

“She’s so cute!” 

“I didn't believe she would be so tiny, but look at her. Precious!” 

Cayenne spun you around, examining your form. You weren’t exactly tiny in human terms, but compared to them, you were short stack. 

“We must choose something daring!” 

Vola nodded.

“Like a little wildcat!” 

You signed to Golmad, a little surprised at their sweetness. They even learned sign language for you! 

“The nobleman said the Orc women resent us and that they'll rip us to bits for stealing their men.” 

He chuckled. 

“That's nothing but propaganda. They want babies just as much as the males. A stout, fertile, submissive human husband is ideal for caring for their pups. Your people are obsessed with the purity of their women. We never had to organize a silly test for the males. The Orcesses just bop their mate on the head and drag him home.” 

He gave you a conspiratorial grin, his gold eyes glittering. 

I have a surprise for you at dinner. I think you’ll find it quite funny. 

You blinked, absorbing that fact, but decided to tuck it away for now and focus on what was happening in front of you. 

“It was kind of your sisters to learn sign language.” 

He looked slightly bashful at that comment, his green cheeks burning a bit darker. 

“Everyone is required to learn. Your staff will speak to you in your own language, not at you. Though I initially ordered it to accommodate you, we've since found tremendous value in practicing the skill.“

You didn't have time to think much more about it as the Orcesses started stripping your heavy dress off. Your cheeks burned as Golmad’s eyes roved over your bare skin, an appreciative glint in them. 

Vola wrapped a soft, asymmetrical skirt of spotted fur around your waist, and Cayenne pulled a leather crop top over your breasts. Then she secured a thick belt on top of your hips. She turned and started picking up and putting down daggers. Once she’d decided on the right one, she sheathed it in its stop at your side. 

“This one is perfect for you,” she explained—”light and sharp. You don't need might to wield a blade. Only speed and endurance.” 

She patted it. 

“We’ll help you train. Every Orc does morning training together before breakfast. We are a communal people. Training is another way to reinforce community. We hash out our disagreements on the training mat, and by the time we sit for our meal we are all on the same page. Our strength is not just our size. We win wars because our bonds are unbreakable.”

You nodded, feeling very special to be trusted with their secrets. 

They finished the outfit with fur-lined boots and a diamond necklace matching Golmad’s. Cayenne produced a makeup stick, drawing a long line across your nose from one cheek to the other and vertical lines from the center of your eyes down to your chin. 

“This is traditional for the Queen. We don’t wear crowns like your people. These markings identify your position at special events. When you are officially married, there will be tattoos and you won’t need the makeup anymore.” 

You blinked at her, wondering what your mother would say to that. An Orc appeared in the doorway, not dressed in human clothes. Instead, he wore leather pants, and was shirtless with an axe strapped to his back. 

He spoke as he signed, showing his respect for you. 

“Dinner is ready, Your Majesty.” 

You swallowed deeply as you were about to meet your future subjects, wearing less clothing than you’d ever worn in public before. Your arms and stomach were bare, as well as one leg where the skirt split. Golmad scooped you up and plopped you on his shoulder as he carried you to the dinner hall. You could hear the raucous laughter of Orcs celebrating, but when you walked through the door, all were silent and bowed in unison. 

It was difficult to find them amid the massive Orcs, but you finally spotted your family seated at the long table at the right of the King and Queen’s seats. Starla was dressed to impress in a low-cut gown emphasizing her assets, though she looked disgusted at the Orcs around her. When your mother caught sight of you, her mouth opened, and she covered it in horror as if they’d done something terrible to you. 

Golmad waved a hand, and the Orcs all took their seats at the table. As he got comfortable, arranging you on his lap, his sister Vola sat down with a familiar man on her lap. 

“Rotham?!” your sister screeched. “What the fuck are you doing here?!” 

You felt Golmad’s body shudder underneath you as he chuckled. Vola shot a glare at Starla, petting Rotham’s head. His cheeks darkened just a bit, but he snuggled against her ample breasts. 

“Don’t speak so familiarly with my mate,” Vola spat. 

Starla’s eyes looked like they might pop out of her head. 

“Rotham, how could you? We were supposed to be married! I was supposed to be Queen! How can you lay with that…monster?! What about your people? YOUR COUNTRY?” 

The table had grown silent as everyone watched the drama play out. 

“Vola is my mate,” Rotham said, looking down his nose at her. “I love her! Why would I want to sit on a throne waiting for someone pretending to be my friend to stab me in the back and fuck my wife when I can stay cozy and safe tending Vola’s hearth?” 

He shook his head as if he were knocking something unpleasant out of it. 

“Why do I have to be King, anyway?! Just because I'm a man? You know what, Starla? You've never once asked what I wanted! Do you realize that? You don't care about what I want, only that I fulfill what fantasy you have about conquering the Orcs and obtaining a sparkly trinket. You'd be happy to stand on the sidelines like a swooning maiden, spending money you haven't earned on meaningless crap, while I risk my life and limbs for a battle I don't even care about!”

Starla looked incensed, shocked, and confused by his position. 

“But she's a monster, Rotham. The enemy!”

His brow drew and jabbed a finger at her. 

“Don’t you dare call my mate a monster; she is no enemy! It’s cruel and disrespectful. Vola loves me for me! She likes my cooking! She kisses me when I get hurt! She listens to my fears and helps me accomplish my goals! My goals! Not a bunch of spoiled noble's goals. 

I'm warning you, don't provoke her. I don’t love you, but I don’t want to see you harmed, either.” 

His smile met Vola’s before his eyes dipped to her body, looking quite pleased with his wife. 

Starla stood up, knocking over her chair as her sense dissolved with her dream of becoming Queen. The real Starla came out, the snotty girl who used to throw tantrums when she didn’t get a toy she wanted at the Goddesses’ Supper.

“Kissing your boo-boos like a sniveling child? Chasing frivolous goals? What the fuck are you talking about? You are royalty! You have a responsibility to the country! To me! What could possibly be more appealing than being the King?” 

Rotham huffed. 

“I want to be a baker! That's all I ever wanted to do, and because I was born my father's child, I never even had the option to try. My parents planned out my life, then advisors, then generals, and even you. I could never do what I wanted. I was scolded if I ever went near the kitchen, even to bake in my spare time! It was hell!” 

Starla snorted. 

“A baker?! That's work for common folk! It's beneath you! You’re throwing away the crown to bake cookies?! That’s pathetic! Stop this nonsense right now!” 

Vola growled. 

“Do not speak to my mate that way. Rotham deserves to be as free as any of us. He's an excellent baker. You're just sour he's not putting himself in harm's way to elevate your status!” 

Starla's eyes narrowed on Vola.

“How dare you think, you, a filthy beast, are worthy of a Prince?! MY PRINCE?! You’re nothing but an ugly ogre!” 

You felt the tension rise as every Orc leaned in, watching what would happen next. Vola gave her a cool smile. 

“Do you mean to challenge me for my mate, little girl?” 

“He’s not your mate! He’s mine! MINE!” 

Golmad held up a hand. 

“The human has declared an official challenge for Vola’s mate. Take her to the ring.” 

Starla screamed as an Orc picked her up and awkwardly carried her out of the room. Everyone else at the table followed, including your parents, whispering between each other.

The battle ring was a simple dirt circle with thick ropes marking its outline. By the time you and Golmad arrived, Starla had been placed in the center, and someone had armed her with a thin rapier, probably the only weapon in the arsenal against the wall she could lift. 

You could see the terror on her face when Vola set Rotham down next to you and entered the ring, cracking her knuckles. 

“Wait! Wait! This is madness!” Starla screamed, realizing there was no chance she would win this fight. 

Golmad waved her screams away. 

“In our tradition, a mate challenge is binding. You should not have spoken so carelessly if you did not want to fight. You must follow through. Prepare yourself! Begin!” 

Your heart raced, wondering if you should do something to save your sister. Golmad caught your worried expression and signed to you with a small smile. 

“She won’t kill her. Death’s not necessary to teach her a lesson.” 

You let out a breath of relief, leaning into Golmad’s warm body. The two competitors circled one another…rather, Vola circled Starla, and Starla looked for an exit. The Orcs packed tightly around the ring, and there was no gap to escape. When she realized there was no way out, she raised her weapon with two hands as best as possible. 

“Stay back, beast! I’ll cut you!” 

Vola laughed, darting forward so fast she was only a green blur. You heard a crack, and Starla smacked the dirt, blood spraying across her pretty dress. Mercifully, Vola didn’t knock her out. Starla’s whining voice drifted up from the ground. 

“My nose! She broke my fucking nose!” 

Vola snatched her weapon up and pointed the blade at her throat. 

“Do you concede?” 

Starla’s eyes got big. She focused on the tip of the rapier and nodded. 

To make her point, Vola adjusted her grip and stabbed the sword into the ground next to Starla’s head. A clump of her hair fluttered to the ground beside her. 

Leaning in so close to her that their noses almost touched, Vola pinned her with an icy glare. 

“The next time you raise your voice to my mate, I will not miss, little girl.” 

Golmad lifted a hand, ending the fight. 

“Vola has defended her claim! To dinner!” 

The Orcs cheered, but Rotham cheered the loudest. When she returned to him, he squeezed her biceps, looking up at her with stars in his eyes. 

“You're so strong! You were fast, too, like a beautiful bolt of lightning!”

“Rotham, please…” Starla whimpered from the dirt, hoping to get sympathy from him. 

He only frowned and turned away. Vola scooped him up, swinging him around while she kissed him. 

“I'll always protect you and your honor, my darling,” she said. “To my dying breath.” 

They and the other Orcs piled out of the room, leaving your parents to help Starla with her bloody nose. As Golmad carried you out, you heard them speaking to her as your mother helped her to her feet. 

“Don’t be difficult, Starla. We need to return to the table. Buck up.” 

“Are you insane? My nose is broken, and I’m covered in blood! I’m not going back there!” 

For once, you heard your father sound stern. 

“You got yourself into this foolishness, Starla. If Rotham is not leading a rebellion, we must find favor with our new King. We cannot be absent from (Y/N)’s dinner. It would be disrespectful, and we don't have the money to live up to the standards we're used to without her grace! Living here is our best option. I’m not going to be tossed on the street to defend your ego.” 

When Golmad set you on his lap at the head of the table, Starla sulkily took her place beside your mother, a napkin on her nose to slow the bleeding. When she did look up from her plate, it was to glare across the table at Vola and Rotham, caught up in their own banter between lovers. 

Golmad cleared his throat to call everyone to attention, and the noise quickly quieted. 

He signed as he spoke, so everyone could understand. 

“We come together for this meal to welcome my lovely Queen (Y/N) to our fold!” 

He glanced down at your parents, his face a bit smug. 

“Family and community are a core value of our kind. I also welcome (Y/N)’s parents and sister to our castle. Please do your best to help them grow accustomed to our traditions.

This night marks a step forward in the blending of human and Orc society, and as I have found my match, I wish you all your own mates so that, from the wounds of war, another generation of both our peoples can flourish! Let’s enjoy the bounty of this land together!” 

That was the end of the speech, as Orcs carried out massive dishes of roasted meat, vegetables, and golden-crusted pies and arranged them on the table. 

Happy Orcs were loud and raucous, apparently enjoying giving toasts. Everyone guzzled ale as they tipped their glasses to speeches of triumphs in war, hunting their new mates, and lots of well wishes to your future children. 

Numerous Orcs lined up to kiss your hand and declare their devotion to your protection. Meanwhile, your parents focused their energy on courting Golmad’s favor, complimenting the food, the music, and whatever else they could think of that might endear them to him. Your mother even gave you a tight compliment on your skirt. 

While you tried to focus on greeting your subjects, your mind wandered to the warm body underneath you. Golmad’s firm, barrel chest brushed your arm with every deep breath. The bulging muscles of his thigh were like sitting on a stone chair covered in bulky leather, but those features aside, your absolute favorite part of his physique was his husky stomach. It was firm and toned from daily training but thick from eating well. Leaning into it was quite comfortable and cozy. 

Everything about him was so big, including the enormous shaft, you could feel at your back. Maybe it was the wine, but your initial fear of it had slowly changed to curious interest as the night progressed. What would it be like? How would it feel inside of you? What would it taste like? The lewd thoughts were incredibly distracting. You found yourself wiggling your bottom to brush it without thinking. Every time you did, you felt a low rumble in his chest no one else could hear above the merrymaking. 

“Are you enjoying yourself?” He asked when there was finally a break in the production, and you could speak. 

You nodded and gave him a wan smile. 

“Your court is delightful. It's just…

When you paused his focus on you became intense. 

What's wrong? You can tell me, I won't be offended.”

You looked over the celebration, considering how your day played out compared to what you expected. 

“A lot has happened today…between the meeting and the fight…I'm a little tired, to be honest. I want to keep up with your people…but…” 

His gold eyes gleamed with predatory interest, making heat swell in your core. 

“I have a remedy for that. Orc celebrations take a bit of time to get used to. They'll all be up till dawn.” 

He stood before you could ask anything more, willing the Orcs to quiet down. 

“My Queen and I will retire for the evening! Enjoy the food and drink. Show our guests how Orcs celebrate!” 

A happy cry rang out, and the party started again as Golmad carried you out of the room. Your heartbeat thumped in your chest, realizing this was the first time the two of you would be alone for any length of time. He was so large he could do anything to you, and that thought had become far more exciting than frightening.  

When you arrived at his bedroom, he gently set you down on a table and turned his attention to starting a fire in the fireplace to warm the cool room. 

You swung your legs over the edge of the tall table, watching the muscles in his back flex as he loaded the hearth with logs. When he turned, he pulled off his boots and tucked them in a corner.  Finally, he approached you, his footsteps silent for someone so large. His eyes moved over your body as if deciding what part to engage first. 

“Do you think a back rub would help you relax? It’s been an eventful day.” 

You nodded, your heart skipping at the thought of his big hands on you. He tugged your boots off and set them next to his before settling the two of you on his bed, with you on his lap. 

You let out a long moan as his thick fingers pressed gently into the tense knots in your shoulder. His breath fanned across the nape of your neck, causing a pleasurable shiver to snake up your spine. Since his hands were busy, he spoked to you, his head dipping close to your ear. 

“I didn’t have a moment to tell you how beautiful you looked, today. In your human clothes, but especially so in ours.” 

You hummed a thank you, a sizzling tingle vibrating in your ear. As his thumbs slid down the curve of your waist, you realized he could circle both hands around your middle. His thumbs worked the knots away, but his other fingers smoothed over your bare skin. 

He seemed to get distracted by your arms, shifting his attention to one. He measured the diameter of your wrist with his thumb and forefinger. 

“You are delicate. I feel fortunate to have someone so sweet to protect and love.” 

At the word love, your cheeks burned, and you let out a quick mewl. You heard him chuckle behind you. He spun you around to face him, putting his hand lightly around your neck. Your breath came short, and your eyes widened at him, not sure what he was doing. 

“You are a precious blessing. I’ll never hurt you, (Y/N). If something hurts, pinch me, and I’ll know to stop, okay?” 

You nodded, relaxing just slightly. With his other hand, he tipped your head to the side, and the fingers around your neck massaged the muscles that had gotten tight from gritting your teeth. Your eyelashes fluttered as all of the tension slipped away. When you opened them again, Golmad’s eyes met yours, flickering as if they were lit from within and drawing you forward. 

He loosened his grip on your neck, and you pushed yourself up on your knees, pressing your small hands into his chest as you leaned up to him. 

For a moment, he looked surprised, but his eyes tracked yours as you looked over his features, pulled to his nicely shaped lips. He seemed to have no intention to push you to be intimate with him, but he was to be your husband. You were curious about him. You sucked in a quick breath before you tipped your head forward and brushed your lips against his. That’s what a wife was supposed to do, no? 

He let out a deep, rumbling grumble you felt between your legs. His big hand swept you up by the small of your back, while the other cradled your face. The next time your lips came together was a hungry, needy kiss. Your hand wrapped around his tusk, sliding over the smooth surface as you explored with your lips. 

You’d never kissed before, so you weren’t entirely sure what to do beyond the first taste. Pulling back you looked at him through the veil of your lashes, cheeks burning and lips swollen. 

“Was that good?” You asked. 

His eyebrows rose slightly, and he gave you a gentle nod. 

“Is this your first time kissing?” 

You looked away, embarrassed at your inexperience, but a thick finger pushed your chin back in his direction. 

“I didn’t mean it as an insult. I assumed the “untouched” bit of your mother’s introduction was a production. I mean…look at you. You’re gorgeous.”

You frowned, and he looked contrite. 

“I didn’t mean…to question your purity…I only meant-”

He huffed, and you were surprised to see a confident Orc King flustered by you. When his gaze met yours, it was open and vulnerable. 

“You’re so much smaller than me. I don’t want to scare you.” 

You searched his face for a moment. 

“You don’t scare me. I want to please you. Will you show me how?” 

His cheeks darkened to a rich forest, and his mouth fell open. You watched his pupils widen, and he nodded, eyes drifting over your body. You pushed yourself up on your knees, kissing him again, hoping to encourage whatever might come next. He groaned, thick hands wrapping around your waist. 

Feeling bolder, you let your hands move over his bare shoulders and gently trace every plane of his chest. He shuddered when your fingers slipped over a nipple, so you tried it again, earning you another rich groan. His tongue slipped past your lips, tasting you for the first time, and he hummed into your mouth.  

Beneath you, the shaft you’d already thought felt large suddenly got much firmer and larger. Curious, you gingerly let your fingers slip down his chest, palming him through his pants. A deep rumble vibrated his chest, and you mewled as he suddenly flipped you under him. You looked up at his massive body looming over you, panting. 

His eyes ate up your skin, glowing with appreciation. A fingertip traced your collarbone down the V of the little crop top you wore. It took only a flick of his fingers to rip it in half. You gasped, chest heaving. He met your gaze, searching for any indication you didn’t want him to go on. 

“Are you okay?” 

You nodded quickly, your nipples pebbling now exposed to the air. He smirked, dipping his head to press a kiss into the top of one breast and then the other before he moved lower. Pleasure you weren’t used to was intoxicating as he licked and sucked your nipples. Your breaths were heaving, and your thoughts scrambled. 

Though thick, his fingers were nimble, unbuckling the belt at your waist and stripping the skirt off you. 

Instinctively, you looked away, never having been so exposed in your life. A grunt brought your eyes back to him, and Galmod squeezed your cheek before he spoke. 

“It’s my job to please you. May I?”

Your nod was far more enthusiastic than you intended, and he grinned. A thumb teased a nipple, while his thick tongue traced your slit. A breathy mewl slipped out, and he glanced up without pulling away. His gaze was intent. Every hunting instinct he possessed focused on making sure you were enjoying what he had to give you. His tongue dipped inside of you the first time anything or anyone had touched you there. Your back arched, and your eyelashes fluttered. Your hand instinctively clutched his hair, your hips bucking into his mouth as wetness flooded your channel. 

He chuckled, the added sensation making you whimper. Though your flavor was appealing, Golmad had a second reason for filling you with his tongue. He also stretched you, preparing you to take something much larger. When you were eagerly rocking your hips to create more friction, he slipped out of you, turning his attention to your clit. Your irises crossed, your first real orgasm exploding between your legs and shooting through every nerve in your body. You were practically drooling as he slipped two fingers inside, bringing you right back where you started, needy and wanting. 

He stopped for a moment, cupping your chin to get your attention. 

“Do you want more?” 

Your fingers were shaking as you responded. 

“Yes…please?” 

He chuckled, leaning down and kissing you deeply before he rocked back on his knees. 

“It will hurt for just a second, then it will feel good…but if you want me to stop, just pinch me. I’ll stop.” 

You nodded quickly, wiggling your hips to entice him. You wanted whatever he planned on next. His gaze was ravenous, and you could tell staying in control of his instincts was work, but you trusted him, which made no sense since you'd only met. Something about him made you feel safe and protected, maybe the way he seemed so worried about hurting you. 

Your eyes popped as he slipped out of his pants. A thick cock bobbed in front of him. You’d never seen something so viscerally sexy, his bulky green body hovering over you, a thick hand fisting a massive shaft. A zip of sheer excitement made you quake. You felt a little mad. His cock had to be too big for you, but you wanted more than anything to take it. A fresh wave of slick leaked from inside of your spasming cunt. 

Your legs looked tiny in his hands as he spread them. He rubbed the large, round head of his cock against your slit, watching you whimper and beg for him with your eyes. 

Entering you maddeningly slow, you felt your pussy stretch to accommodate him. It felt good, the strain feeling more decadent than painful. There was no way you could fit his entire length inside, but he didn't seem concerned, gripping the base for more control. His fingers circled your clit, and you hardly felt a slight pinch through a veil of pleasure. Your eyes rolled back in your head as he filled you completely. 

When your gazes met, you could see the concentration on his face, his brow drawn, and his jaw locked. You nodded to him, asking him to go on, telling him that you wanted it. 

Pulling back, his hips snapped forward pushing a high-pitched mewl past your lips. He watched you, looking for any pain, but whatever he saw just egged him on. The concerned expression melted to a smug smirk, and he picked up the pace, heavy thrusts jerking your body against the soft furs. 

His long fingers wrapped around your neck, holding you in place while his strokes grew more intense. 

“That’s it, you can take it,” he groaned, his husky voice tickling your ears. 

You were amazed at your own body, your slippery fluids coating his shaft and allowing him to grind in and out of you despite his size. Though you could feel the strength in his hands, he only applied light pressure to your throat, making your heart skip. He could crush you easily, yet despite the rapture in his eyes, he held you like a baby dove.  

The tension in your thighs relaxed, your legs opening for him far wider than you even knew they could to accommodate his big body. 

The room filled with the sound of your sweet mewls and his guttural grunts. 

“So good,” he drawled, words slurring. “You were made for me.” 

You wanted to sign, “you, as well,” but your brain was mush. 

His cock battered you in just the right spot, while his free hand never left your clit, pinching and circling it until your eyes crossed and you were drooling. You soared, high on his musky scent, your body sparkling in ways you’d never felt before. Pleasure licked the tips of your nerves, zipping up and down your spine like lightning bolts. The only thing you could do was hold on tight to the hand circling your throat, your nails digging into the sinewy flesh. 

Your mother had made it seem like sex was a chore a wife did to please her husband and keep him from messing around. You had no idea it could be like this. Golmmad’s gold eyse lit as your wet cunt spasmed around him. A wet rush of bliss washed over you like the tide tugging you under. Your scream pierced the heady air as you reached your peak, spongey walls sucking him deeper. 

It was one thing to cum underneath him, but the look on his face as your body clamped around him, wet slick coating his cock, was sheer euphoria. His mouth fell open, eyes fluttering shut as he roared his finale. Making a large, powerful Orc king fall apart made you feel powerful and desirable in a way you’d never been allowed to feel before. It was a high that couldn’t be matched. You wanted to do this again and again until neither of you could walk or think. 

You felt his shaft grow impossibly harder, twitching inside you as he emptied himself into you in searing ropes. The ragged, stiff thrusts to seek his pleasure pulled another lingering orgasm from your pussy. You felt tears slipping down your cheeks as he slammed his hips into yours one last time. 

For a moment, the two of you just panted together, his head dipping down just an inch or so above yours. You felt a thick thumb trace your cheek, wiping your tears away. 

“I-I didn’t hurt you?” he whispered, and you forced your eyes open so he wouldn’t panic. 

A small smile and a slight jerk of your head told him no, you were just fine. He peeled himself off of you, sinking down into his bed and pulling you onto his lap. His fingers played lazily in your hair as he caught his breath. 

“What do you think?” he asked, his tone raw and vulnerable. 

You propped your head on one fist, elbows resting on his chest, while you wound a lock of dark hair around a finger, thinking of how to answer him. You felt his breath halt, waiting eagerly for your answer. Finally, you pulled your legs under you, sitting cross-legged on top of him so you could use your hands. 

“Can we do that again in the morning?” 

His eyebrows jumped before his lips stretched into a broad smile, responding with his free hands. 

“Of course, as many times as you like.”

You grinned and yawned, plastering your body on top of his. His warmth sunk into your bones, and sleep came easily. The last thing you felt before you dozed off was his hand stroking your hair as he muttered thanks to the goddess for bringing you to him. 

[halemerry]

On Crowley, memory, and identity.

So full disclosure first, I am not someone who is particularly interested in having Crowley's angel name on screen - personally I rather like the idea of never having an answer to this question - but I also do think it's interesting and fun to speculate and we got quite a few hints at this throughout this season soooo

Obviously part of this is that we meet him. The angel that would become Crowley is the first person on screen this season. We confirm a lot about him here. He confirm that he is powerful enough to start the engine of the universe. We confirm that he can control gravity and time and space and light. We confirm that he is the being that says let there be light before the beginning. We also confirm that he consulted with the concept designer of the universe and that he's very comfortable with the idea of questioning authority. We are also given Aziraphale's anxiety as a contrast to this and as proof that that is not a universal trait for early angels.

Now, we have always had evidence that Crowley is powerful. He's done some things that seem impossibly big. He stops time very casually and seemingly without effort - even at the end of season 1 it doesn't even seem to give us the same strain on him that holding the Bentley together does. This is a thing that we only ever see Crowley do and notably a thing that you would think other beings would mess with to their advantage if it was possible. Which means they either literally can't or that it never occurred to them that they could. Or as is becoming increasingly clear: perhaps it's a bit of both.

But that's not the only implication of power we get in season 1 either. We get Crowley seemingly in tune with the universe in a way many angels and demons aren't. Which, makes some sense if he helped make it. This manifests in all sorts of ways. He's constantly aware of Aziraphale's presence. He can smell when the world state changes like when Adam names Dog. He holds the Bentley together through utter destruction. He notices that there are different books in the bookshop - something I always assumed was meant to convey he was familiar with the shop's contents but after learning he didn't even know Jane Austen was a writer I wonder if it's actually more to do with him being in tune with reality. He also can apparently quite literally feel when there are eyes on them.

We're given even more of all these things this season in some really interesting ways. Crowley literally tests the air to check if a miracle has happened - another thing that we don't see anyone else do despite Heaven literally assigning someone to Aziraphale to check for a specific miracle. This particular beat is also something we are shown twice this season. Both here and in 1941, when Furfur uses the miracle blocker on Aziraphale. Here Crowley tests his miracles and despite getting nothing of the sort when Aziraphale tries a miracle literally the beat before this, we are given both a visual and an auditory effect. It ripples out with a watery sound effect from Crowley's finger. It's like he's prodding at reality.

There's also several instances involving the recognition or lack thereof of angels and demons. Crowley feels that the demon army is arriving before it does. Neither side seems to be able to track Gabriel - one of the most powerful beings in existence - at all once he leaves Heaven. We also see countless angels fail to notice Crowley himself both as Bildad the Shuhite performing literal miracles right in front of them. And this happens again as he prances about Heaven after Muriel. Aziraphale can't tell Shax is a demon despite Crowley recognizing she's manifested behind him nearly as soon as he answers the phone. Aziraphale can't even recognize that he himself is still an angel at the end of the Job story.

He also. Quite literally. Brings someone back from the dead???? Like waves a hand casually on the street and reconstitutes Mr. Brown like he'd never been dead at all. Mr. Brown returns with no memory of what happened to him holding a newspaper that seems to have literal bite chunks coming out of it. It's not framed as a huge miracle or anything strenuous either - just a casual snap.

And that's not even getting into the parallels with Gabriel. First of all. We get the color purple. It's purple when Aziraphale and angel that would become Crowley start the engine of the quadrants of the universe and it's purple when they miracle to hide Gabriel. This color is associated with power and, historically in the language of this show, with Gabriel himself. Them using it together twice speaks a lot to the power they have together.

But that's not the only symbolism historically tied to Gabriel that has found its way to Crowley this season either. Most flashy of all is the lightning. This is how we see Gabriel arrive on earth at the end of season one and it is something Crowley apparently just Does when he gets too mad to contain himself.

This alone wouldn't catch my attention except. Except the way Crowley reacts to Gabriel's memory problems is... interesting to say the least. He's angry and understandably so. Part of this is him being mad and protective of Aziraphale - he says as much himself to Jim directly. And yet, weirdly, it's the kind of mad that reminded me of something else.

This is the mad he tends to gets at his plants. Do it properly. Think hard. You can do better than that. Grow better. It's the kind of angry that's steeped in projection. It's he kind of angry that is undercut with the occasional weird undercurrent of understanding. And so much of his dialogue with Jim around this is framed like he does actually understand. Jim says it hurts and he says he knows. Jim starts talking about it feeling like being an empty house that still remembers where the furniture is and Crowley immediately latches onto this and understands ah it's looking at where the furniture isn't.

And there's a few other conversations that center around this issue that I find really interesting from a projection perspective. There's the conversation that happens when Crowley goes to have an alcohol fueled chat with Jim. He says "You're Jim now. Got everything just the way you wanted?" This doesn't make a whole lot of sense for him to be addressing Gabriel with. As far as he knows all Gabriel would want was the end of the world.

And then there's the particular way he asks Jim to eliminate himself in this scene. Climb out the window. In other words, have a fall. Something he pretty immediately retracts and clearly feels guilty about no matter how much he hates Gabriel.

And then there's the first conversation he gets to have after learning about Gabriel. Crowley opens this conversation, thinking out loud. He's staring out, not talking to Az yet and the very first thing out of his mouth is, of all things: "He's going to be okay." A weird start for a statement about Gabriel in itself but then Crowley goes and adds what at it's core is his own trauma narrative to the end with, "We can just take him somewhere and leave him there."

Now the real fun bit: Crowley also has memory issues that are out very prominently on display even as far back as season 1.

He has inconsistent memories of his Fall. The answers he gives us to why he Fell change slightly - even when he's alone with himself. He doesn't seem to understand why exactly he Fell even though he clearly has some vague idea of the pieces in play. I always thought to some degree that this was just a trauma response, but season 2 drew even more attention to this and now that we know that memory alteration is how Heaven handles powerful angels I can't help but to wonder if there's more in play here.

Crowley can't remember Furfur - who he apparently literally fought next to during the war in Heaven. Crowley can't remember building a nebula with Saraqael. Crowley doesn't remember why they decided gravity was a good idea.

But he does remember bits and pieces here and there. He remembers doing some of the starmaking. He remembers how to access clearance locked files. He's missing pieces and also seems to have an understanding that Gabriel's memories ARE in there. Almost like he's done this work on himself before.

This narrative itself is also far more concerned with the angel Crowley was this time around. It teases his rank a few different times. Most notably is him having access the files only available to Dominions and above.

Now angel hierarchy is a bit of a messy area depending on what sources you're using but given Good Omens tendencies in the past we can assume that this leaves us five ranks. Dominion, Throne, Cherub, Seraph, and Archangel.

I might break down why I think Dominion, Throne, and Cherub feel kind of odd to me later if there's interest - now available here - in that but given the current length of this meta I just want to focus on that last one for now.

Crowley was an Archangel is far from a new theory and I've honestly historically had some fairly mixed feelings about it. But the parallels between Jim and Crowley lend some interesting connective tissue to a lot of those theories. And. There's also some interesting camera work and script writing tied to Crowley and that term outside of the scenes about Gabriel's memories specifically.

Firstly, during Crowley's chat with Beelzebub he says it's a big universe with plenty of places for an archangel to hide. Like Alpha Centauri perhaps?

Then we get Aziraphale and Crowley both presenting Hell and Heaven respectively the idea that it could have been them that did the archangel class miracle. Aziraphale gets scoffed at and yet. Shax is the one who says the miracle was archangel level and Crowley's response is "how do you know I didn't do it?"

Then later as she's prowling about the shop we get this interesting shot of Crowley in the doorframe and Jim in the background. Crowley grins and offers to let Shax look in and see if she can see any archangels in there while he's framed dead center and Jim himself is blurry in the back of the frame.

And most fascinating in my opinion is this shot that happens when Crowley and Muriel are accessing the classified files. Nearly every shot in this sequence is group shots or shots of Gabriel. The camera is focused in the plot and the way the archangels function as a group and on Gabriel himself. But we get one single shot in this entire sequence of Crowley by himself and it is immediately following Gabriel saying "I am the only first order archangel in the room - or, well, the universe."

And then in the end. We get the Metatron who goes out of his way to avoid using Crowley's name. He calls him demon (and insists correctly that Crowley would recognize him even when Michael doesn't) or refers to him as Aziraphale's friend. He only ever uses that name when trying to use him as a bribe for Aziraphale. That combined with the dark look he gives Crowley implies a familiarity that only the Metatron has with him.

So who is he then? There's plenty of old meta out there about why certain archangels fit or don't and I won't reiterate them here. They're interesting and definitely worth poking around at and very fun to read! Personally I'm not as interested in naming the someone he used to be as I am in examining the places that ghost of this angel has started to poke through the narrative so I'll end this here. It's spiralled into something far longer than I ever meant it to be anyway.

[risuola]

▶ BOUNDARIES — the day when Suguru entered the shower with you.

contents: college!au, roommates — 1,3k words

𝙇𝙊𝙑𝙀 𝙈𝙀𝘿𝙇𝙀𝙔 | series masterlist

“Don’t freak out.”

You blame it on the water. Hot, steamy and falling right onto your head, your reaching up face and the hum of it filling your ears. A monotone murmur of drops pitter-pattering and bouncing off your exposed skin — it made you disconnect. A moment of relaxation, and it worked wonders to your body, your tensed up muscles, your clattered thoughts. It quieted you down, made your breath slower, soothed the hectic beat of your heart — effect of an unpleasant confrontation with your classmate in the morning. A girl upset and nervous, jealous and heated, took it all out on you and you couldn’t do nothing but take it. Wasn’t the first time, certainly not the last as well and over the years you grew to tolerate this sort of events as they were inevitable, they came along the very close friendship you shared with your boys. It’s fine, you always tell them and it is, in fact, fine, but the attack you endured just two hours before was oddly, unnecessarily personal and it stung.

You took it under the shower, making use of the empty apartment — both Satoru and Suguru being out for classes and practice — and just enjoying the sizzling hot water warming your skin. It was comforting, meditative almost, and nearly as soothing as a cuddle session. It felt good. So very good that when the environment changed suddenly, your heart dropped to your stomach.

“Suguru?” Your head snapped to the side, your entire body flinched in shock as the matted glass of the shower doors moved and you caught a frame twice your size entering the tight area of the stall. The sight of your roommate somewhat calmed you down. “What is happening?”

“I’m sorry sweets, I really am, but I called you, knocked, but you didn’t hear and I really need to wash up quick and run,” your friend explained, his tone more frantic than you’re used to and for few moments you watched him, frozen. He was already lathering shower gel over his body. Intense scent of skincare filled in the steamy air with a mixture of fresh seagrass and coconut, and soon you snapped out of the haze.

“Sorry, I didn’t hear,” you said dumbly, still very much confused, confirming his words and shifting a little closer to the wall, making more space for him.

It was awkward — it should be — but somehow, you felt at ease with him there. It was the very first time you saw him fully naked, and vice versa, but Suguru was a safe space and besides a heat that creeped right up your cheeks, that surely got lost in the flush you already had from the hot stream of water, you weren’t too worried. Tearing your eyes off his muscular, strong built — a sculpture carved out of the finest marble — proved itself to be the most difficult as you handed him the showerhead.

“Yeah, I noticed,” he said, already washing off the fluff and bubbles of his shower gel. “They moved the lecture for earlier, I had to cut my training short and I just couldn’t go all sweaty. I’m really sorry sweets, I’ll apologize properly later, okay?”

“It’s all fine. Good luck, Sug,” you offered him a soft smile and took the sprayer back as the man moved to exit. Before he left completely, and despite the rush he was in, he managed to spare a second to press a tender kiss to your temple.

It wouldn’t be Suguru if he didn’t make time to smother you with love.

“You’re gorgeous by the way. See ya later!” And he was gone, just like that, leaving you flushed and so very confused, in a cloud of heated condensation and empty cage of tiles.

* * *

Few hours passed until the lonely, quiet apartment filled up with the playful banter that seems to never end whenever your roommates are together — which is a lot. You were already in bed, nuzzled against the pillows and wrapped in blankets. Tired. You were so tired after that day, the few classes you had to attend to after the shower sucked the life out of you. It piled up — the tension between you and your classmate, the unannounced test from one of the subjects you don’t particularly like nor study for, the rain that caught you in the middle of your relatively short way home from the college and the absurdly microscopic amount of cheese in the absurdly overpriced cheese sandwich you bought in a rush. Should’ve taken the ham.

But the day was soon over and it’s a matter of minutes now until you’ll be able to truly rest in a safe and moderately suffocating embrace of long limbs and warm bodies. The sleeping dilemma that at first seemed to be the greatest worry about the apartment, now was your favorite aspect of it — you often find yourself longing for the late night hours, especially on days like this one. You like the everlasting amount of heat that your friends produced and even though you were often trapped or squished, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Hey,” a soft, honey-like tone reached your ears and forced you to lift up the heavy eyelids. You smiled seeing Suguru’s gorgeous features and feeling his fingers along your cheekbone. “Are you angry at me?”

“Huh? Why?” You asked, moving towards him, lifting your head just slightly to study him more. He looked troubled, worried and you couldn’t place it. What was the reason?

“For the shower situation from earlier?”

“Oh… no, god, absolutely not,” you shook your head and dropped the weight of it back onto the pillowy clouds. “I don’t care if you see me naked, don’t worry about it.”

“Either way, I bought you the chocolate you like so much.”

Chocolate.

“The diabetic bomb?”

“Yeah, that one,” the boy smiled and showed you the gift. A bar of the most divine chocolate you’ve ever eaten — expensive too — filled with sinfully decadent, luscious coconut mousse and little pieces of gooey caramel chunks. A diabetic bomb, as Suguru always mocks it, because in a scale from zero to ten, its sweetness is easily a sixteen.

Suguru ripped the package open and broke off a piece, putting it into your waiting mouth and you moaned. It was sublime, it was posh and sensual. It could easily be an aphrodisiac. A heaven, melting slowly on your tongue, spreading its glory across your very soul and you melted with it. It felt like a sin, it felt wrong and so, so right.

“You didn’t need to buy me anything, Sug,” you spoke finally, once your senses came back from the trip of pure, primal pleasure. “But I do appreciate it even though I should be the one to apologize. I didn’t hear you.”

“You know that I wouldn’t push your boundaries like that if it wasn’t so very urgent.”

“I know and also, I told you already, I don’t care about any of you seeing me naked,” you said it again, reaching your hand to brush a piece of his bangs away from his eyes. He smiled and for a moment his eyes drifted away and you kind of knew what to expect.

“Who’s naked?” Satoru’s cheerfully cocky voice cut through the gentle atmosphere like a lovable razor and you felt the bed yielding underneath his weight as he climbed on and dropped right behind you. His body pressed tightly to your backside, his arm wrapped securely around your blanket-wrapped form and he pulled you towards himself, leaning his head over your shoulder and smothering your cheek with kisses. Affectionate. Suffocating. “I heard our roomie had a bad day, huh?”

“It’s fine now,” you chuckled, reaching up and ruffling his white, short hair, messing it up even more than it already was.

“Our poor little mochi, it’s alright now,” he cooed, teasingly sweet and then, in his very usual behavior, he tried to bite your cheek but you were quicker, stuffing his open mouth with a piece of chocolate. Suguru managed to roll his eyes and left you unattended with a bar of divine candy and your gluttonous friend. “Oh my god that is good.”

Safe to say, the chocolate didn’t stand a chance against you and Satoru.

taglist: @kibananya, @r0ckst4rjk, @rixo-19, @soraya-daydreams, @hyun0200, @ilykii, @roscpctals99, @mushkasstuff, @siimp4youu, @juicedcherry, @themoreeviltwin, @stevenknightmarc, @ms5m1th

[livwritesstuff]

Steve’s oldest daughter Moe is unusually quiet on the drive home from her college apartment in New York City.

She was supposed to be doing this drive with her younger sister Robbie (who had bullied Steve and Eddie into letting her bring a car with her to college), but then Robbie and her friends had actually managed to squirrel away enough money for an impromptu trip to D.C. for their spring break, and Moe had still wanted to visit home even without a ride.

Steve had made a whole show acting all put out over having to make the four hour drive between her school in NYC and their house in the Massachusetts suburbs (twice, he’ll add — he’s been on the road for six hours so far with a couple more to go) but, truthfully, there isn’t much he wouldn’t do to spend time with his kids, especially since the older two have firmly graduated to young-adult status, and he easily could have put her on a train.

“So what’s goin’ on with you, Moe?” he finally asks when the quiet stretches a little to far.

Moe shrugs, and then she says, “I was wondering something.”

“Go for it.”

“You and Dad, like…you were older when you started dating, right?”

Steve pauses for a moment, allowing himself to consider what might qualify as older to his twenty-one-year-old daughter. 

“I guess it depends on what you mean by older,” he settles on telling her.

“I mean, you weren’t in high school anymore, even though you knew each other in high school.”

“Yeah,” Steve nods, “I was halfway through grad school, so twenty-six, I think, and you know Dad’s not even a year older than me.”

Moe nods in return, and  then she asks, “And you were friends before anything else happened? Like, for a while?”

“Uh-huh,” Steve replies, “Dad, and Aunt Nancy, and Aunt Robin were my best friends. Still are, obviously, just…different over time.”

“But, like, how–” Moe stops, and Steve can tell without needing to look away from the road to check the way her eyebrows are furrowed, the way they’re crinkled in the middle just like they always are on the rare occasions Moe can’t find the words she needs. She lets out a short exhale, “How did you know that it changed?” Before Steve can answer, Moe shakes her head, “How did you know that what you were feeling wasn’t, like, friend things anymore? Or, like, that it was more than just friend things.”

“Uh,” Steve pauses, running a hand through his hair, “Honestly, Nancy kind of told me.”

Moe’s head turns in his direction.

“Aunt Nancy told you?” she asks, “Pop…that’s so lame.”

“Yeah, well, that’s what happened.”

“Why?”

Steve thinks about it for a second. It’s funny, he doesn’t actually put too much thought into that time in his life – the seven years that had lapsed between becoming friends with Eddie in the aftermath of everything with the Upside Down and when they’d finally gotten together. That was nearly thirty years ago, after all, and Steve hasn’t ever really been the type to dwell on the past. He takes a moment to dwell on it now and remembers how long it had taken him to notice the dull ache behind his ribs and the anxious somersault his stomach had done every time Eddie so much as looked his way.

“I mean – yeah, you’re right. It’s…it’s not easy when you’re close with someone for a long time and then the way you feel about them changes, because, you know, it’s not – I mean, it’s not like it changes overnight. It’s gradual, so…yeah, it’s not easy.”

“Yeah,” she quietly agrees.

“Nance, just – well, you know Nance. She just clocked it before I did, and I guess she didn’t have the patience to wait it out. Once I knew though, it was, like, super fucking obvious. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t known before.”

Moe’s laugh is nervous in a way Steve isn’t sure he’s ever heard before, and if there’s a friend of Moe’s she might be feeling differently for, he thinks he might have an idea which one. Moe is a hell of a lot smarter than him though, and this conversation is telling enough that she won’t need things spelled out for her in the way he had with Eddie thirty years ago.

“It was hard,” he continues, because he has a feeling Moe might need to hear more even if she isn’t asking for anything specific, “I – I mean, I actually liked dating when I was your age, believe it or not. I thought it was fun, or whatever, and it wasn’t really a thing that made me nervous, you know? With your dad, though…shit, I was terrified, because it’s a different kind of risk than just shooting your shot with someone you run into and hit it off with.”

Moe nods.

“I think the reason it’s so freaky is because falling for someone you’re friends with is never just a crush. I knew there was something big there. I know you guys hate when Dad and I are all sappy, but he was never just some guy I was dating. He was it for me from the very beginning.”

Moe mumbles something under her breath that Steve doesn’t quite catch.

“What was that?”

“I don’t hate it,” she says, her voice still pretty low, and Steve knows that must have been difficult for her to admit so he doesn’t comment on it (though he will be telling Eddie as soon as he possibly can – obviously).

“Well, I’m just saying,” he replies, “I wasn’t feeling that way for nothing, and things turned out pretty good in the end. If someone was in a similar situation, I’d tell them…” he pauses, and then laughs as he says, “I’d tell them to not wait seven years to get a good thing started.”

“Alright,” she replies, “I’ll…yeah, I’ll keep that in mind.”

[hatsunemitskislobotomy]

˚◞♡ ⃗ ❝ 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚 𝙠𝙞𝙨𝙨 𝙢𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙗𝙞𝙩𝙚 𝙢𝙚 ❞* ೃ༄

↳ ♡₊˚. ❝ ¡love and deepspace sorta kinda spicy! eluding headcanons lolz! ❞

·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙

something about those boys and ripping pantyhose’s… sigh

sure it’s attractive, quite attractive actually but more often than not the boys seem to miss the mark as to why you’re wearing them (and why it’s not okay to suddenly come back not wearing them) until one day you overhear tara and some of your other female colleagues discussing a durable pair of pantyhose’s perfect for the summertime where the typical deepspace hunter pants tend to be a little bit on the heavier side.

however your interest was piqued either way— might as well do the girls a favor and test how really durable they are

xavier

you two are so in sync with once another, gentle touches and heightened breathing— your reactions from each other drove each other crazy, it was perfect

which is why he looked like a kicked puppy when he realizes that the pantyhose’s you were wearing were NOT coming off with the hook of his finger

“i… i dont understand…”

oh poor thing they never do

you explain to him that the other female deepspace hunters wanted to test out their durability— you just happened to know a good test for them

he understands, but he still doesn’t know why you’re wearing it with him

you sigh, the initial test was a success but now he was really trying to make you spell it out for him

you pull out the small dagger out of its sheath that rested on your thigh

he looks at you in confusion as you wrap his fingers around the hilt

“i’m sure you can figure out your way around this obstacle.”

and then it clicks and his face of confusion is no more

it’s safe to say, the same trick won’t work on him twice

rafayel

this man takes it as a personal attack— like you might as well have had called him a lemurian slur

“so you want me to die?”

you loved him, but this man was always doing the absolute most but he won’t admit it

if anything you’re getting ALL the blame, you got him all worked up and then you stroll up wearing the indestructible pantyhose’s from hell

he flickers a flame in between his fingers

talking about some “i wonder if they’re fireproof”

you was not about to let him find out— YOU WERE STILL WEARING THEM

“what? can’t handle a little fire?”

and he had the nerve to act like you did an attempt on his life meanwhile this man was scheming as he poked and prodded the thick mesh around your thighs

you two practically start wrestling until he has you pinned

“fine we’ll do things your way, but promise to let me burn them after they’re off.”

zayne

you had been a brat obnoxious all evening it was no wonder he was itching to put you in your place

as per usual it was attractive how he’d reach over your body to pin your arms against the bed as face to face with your torso looking absolutely starved

but right when he was about to tear into you (figuratively and literally), that pesky pair of mesh you always sported were NOT budging

he had to pause and take a minute to reflect

my man was ready to ravish you like how a predator would to their prey but he was being bested by fabric

you were trying so hard not to laugh because you can see the cogs turning in his head

“it seems that i’ve played into your hands.”

you chuckle, innocently claiming that you were getting a tad bit tired of all the pantyhose’s that he’d tear into, it was a lot of money wasted

he insures that it’s never a waste he keeps a collection of all the ones he’s torn

the entire situation is too funny to you, you really can’t help but giggle at him

he really can’t stay annoyed at you, he also did find it a lot funnier than it should’ve been

he still wanted to have his way with you

“it’s no matter, all this is to show that i’ll have to be the gentleman you deserve.”

sure your pantyhose’s were spared that night but you weren’t

❀° ┄───╮

a/n: y’all this idea literally fell from the damn sky— well actually i just saw those instagram promo stories about those hella thick and durable pantyhose’s soooo thank instagram ig?

it’s nothing crazy— i can’t write smut without having a visceral reaction sooo uh… i salute the girlies on here who can bc PHEW 🫡🫡🫡

also i wrote this on the bus lolz, thank god for privacy screen protectors

okay love you all mwah mwah MWAHHHH

╰───┄ °❀

[im-totally-not-an-alien-2]

Danny didn't know what to do with all these flowers. Sure, Amity had done a 180 after they stopped listening to his parents (its just a shame what had happened to them) and they now loved thier guardian and savior.

Which brought him back to the flowers. It was the day after Valentines and he had gotten gifts from what felt like everyone in the city (except Vlad who was in ghost jail via the Observants) leading him to having a massive pile of flowers, stuffed animals and candy to figure out what to do with.

Obviously most of the stuffing were going to be decorating his lair in the GZ but the flowers would rot eventually and he didn't even own a single vase anyway. He was not going to mention the chocolate.

Then Tucker gave him an idea. He can just give them away to other heros.

Cackling he set about plans to ambush the batfam who he had met once or twice when he was exploring through dimensions (and promptly chased out of the city)

He started with Red Robin the smartest and arguably the cutest of the brood. He had picked a good time too because birdy looked five steps away from falling asleep on the rooftop while running, so when Danny through a bouquet or roses at him the soft petals clocked him right in the face.

The look he gave was one of pure confusion as he stared at the plants. Then, all too soon it clicked and the vigilantes face turned a lovely shade of red as he looked around for whoever tossed them. Luckily Danny stayed off the visible spectrum that night.

The next victim was Spoiler who he clocked in the back of the head while she was distracted by talking to a civilian. The yelp she made was glorious and almost made Danny cackle and give away his position.

Red Hood Danny had to be the hardest one. Sneaking up on him was almost impossible. He could sense RH like he could a ghost but something was definitely off. He wondered if Hood could sense him too. Is that how he always seemed to know he was around. It didn't matter in the end because Danny had a lot of free time without the ghost attacks and a near endless supply of ammo. Still. Danny was getting irritated and just decided to chuck flowers at the guy until he landed a hit. He didn't know why hood was freaking out so much over flowers or why he was shooting at the flowers or even what "Pit" he was screaming about but the moment he got a hit in Danny decided to bounce.

Robin was funny. He threw a bouquet and the little bird caught it like a sword before inspecting it with a raised eyebrow.

Orphan was nice. She caught her bouquet gracefully in her arms almost as if she was expecting it and held it to her chest before looking right at him and waving.

While he was invisible.

He bolted.

Occasionally he liked to interfere with the bats rogue battles by throwing a single rose into the frey, startling the baddie of the hour and giving the bat or bats time to collect themselves. Yeah thats right. He Tuxedo Mask'd them. Something that infuriated some of the bats and got other giggling.

He at least knew better not to do this to Poison Ivy. For her he portaled in something special. The look on her face when one of those battery powered toddler jeeps came racing down the street with a full rose bush in a glass bubble and into the fight was something he'd cherish forever. Especially when she realized she couldn't control the thing thanks to the glass.

This leads to the last bird.

Nightwing was probably one of the best victims hes had. He took it like a champ and even played along, giving a little speech about being honored to receive such a gift, prompting Danny to throw individual flowers at the heros feet. Nightwing continued talking and Phantom kept giving him flowers, distracted by what the hero was saying and slowly drifting closer until-

The kick to the side of the head didn't really hurt, when you get used to being thrown through buildings not much could really hurt you anymore but it was enough to stun him and force him to drop his invisibility. Another kick and a few shocks from a pair of acrizma sticks for struggling and he was on his belly at Nightwings feet. He felt something fasten around his wrist and his core felt restricted but he didn't transform back into Fenton.

Crap. Power dampening cuffs.

He was so screwed.

Danny was later upset to discover there was a whole other bat he didn't know about or even get to target once due to him being on the daylight shift.

[artist-issues]

I Saw Wish

And it was the worst animated Disney movie I’ve ever seen. I have to watch it again before I can get into the nitty gritty details. But I don’t need details to sum it up, because my dad actually said it perfectly as we left the theater:

“It was like someone who didn’t really understand Disney movies tried to make a Disney movie.”

Both the form (the technical arts of filmmaking) and the content (the morals, values, and themes of the movie) were totally horrible.

I don’t know who’s fault it was. Jeremy Spears was in the storyboard room and Mark Henn and Eric Goldberg did some 2D animation. But they must have gotten outvoted, or they must not care anymore.

Because holy cow. Here’s some stuff that’s just off the top of my head.

SPOILERS. Not that it matters, because nothing interesting happens in this movie.

The writing? Terrible. Ninety percent of it feels like the characters are filling time with quirky one-liners that are trying too hard to be appealing, then failing, then taking you out of the movie. The jokes aren’t funny. The characters just respond to each other in conversation to check a one-liner box. The other twenty percent is whole conversations repeating tell-don’t-show exposition that has already been covered, usually twice, in previous scenes. Like if in Tangled, every scene had included some variation of Rapunzel saying to friends and enemies alike, “I have to see the floating lights so I’m sneaking to the castle with this thief who wants a mysterious tiara I hid from him. Don’t tell my mother, she’s a bit overprotective!” Over. And over. And over.

The character motivations are way too broad. Asha? Her dream is just “that everybody around me gets to be happy.” That’s it, in a nutshell. No deeper exploration of that. Nobody asks, “why do you care so much?” Nobody tries to convince her she should look out for herself, and then she proves she was right all along. The King? We are told (not shown) that he doesn’t want anyone else’s dreams to be “destroyed.” But he in no believable way expresses that that motivation is still what’s driving him during the movie—what’s driving him is just a plain old lust for power, no nuance.

By the way, the whole premise of the movie? Undercooked. Half-baked concepts strung together with no definitive meaning. Therefore, it’s not believable. Example: The characters act like the wishes are beautiful—well, actually, no, this movie doesn’t know how to show, so there’s not a lot of meaningful acting—the characters just tell us that wishes are “the most beautiful part of someone,” and that’s why it’s worth going through this adventure to give their wishes back to them. But there’s no proof of that in the movie. In fact, it directly kicks it’s own legs out from under that idea, because it has every character who gives up their wish forget that part of themselves. Asha’s grandfather has forgotten his wish, but that doesn’t make him any less “beautiful.” She, and everyone, still treats him like he’s this wonderful old man who deserves the world, who everyone loves…but why is he so appealing? If he “gave up the most beautiful part of him?” The only character who is changed by their lack-of-wish is the Sleepy-analogue character…who is just sleepy, which is described as “boring.” But nobody else who’s given up their wish in the whole kingdom acts like that. It’s just him. Also, the King acts like it’s so important to protect the wishes from destruction. But what does destroying a wish look like? That actually happens to Asha’s mom. Her wish-bubble is broken, literally, and she just says she feels grief. But like. Why? She never remembered it in the first place; it had been missing from her life for years. Also, what the heck is a wish?! It seems to range from broad concepts like “inspire people” to “fly.” Just “fly,” like a bird. The desire to levitate off the ground is the most important, beautiful essence of one background character. Like, what?! But no character ever has the why behind their wish to make us care.

I could go on and on about that point. Like, think about Disney movies that wrote the book on how to make movies about characters with wishes. If Ariel were in Wish, her bubble would look like “dancing and learning and exploring on the Surface with someone who understands her.” But we believe that that is her real, genuine wish, and that it matters to her, because we are shown why being understood is so important to her. Because it’s missing from her life. There’s a scene where she explores a boat alone, and even her best friend doesn’t get excited about it with her. Her dad won’t listen to her point of view. Her siblings don’t ask her about her life even when they think she’s in love. She wants what she wants because of pieces of her life that we are shown.

We are never shown why Asha’s grandfather is obsessed with inspiring people, so we have no reason to believe it, or care whether he gets it or not. We can’t feel disappointed when his wish is said to “never come true,” like we did when Quasimodo was abused by the people he wished to join. We can’t feel elated when he finally “gets” his wish, like we did when Simba smiles on Pride Rock remembering the same way he used to as a cub and claims the crown with a roar. We don’t have anything to hang on to, nothing to relate to, nothing to grasp and feel with the characters. So we don’t feel, because they didn’t put the work in to help us feel. They just say, “the mom’s feeling grief. Feel grief.” And expect us to do the work ourselves. I have to stop harping on this point and move on.

But The main point of the movie is very broad because of that lazy premise, and it’s barely reinforced by any kind of appealing storytelling. If I had to guess, the point would be “Keep wishing for more even when it’s hard.” But the story they told to communicate that meaning was so unimpactful. Asha doesn’t have a dream of her own that’s such hard work to accomplish! (Neither does her grandfather; his wish is “to inspire people.” And at the end, we’re supposed to see him strumming a guitar and believe it’s inspiring? We were never shown how he worked hard to learn how to play the instrument. Or that he carved it with his own hands, or anything like that. So there’s no meaningful demonstration of working hard for it or achieving your wish even if it’s far out of reach.) And nobody except the king is trying to take wishes away from anyone, and he just does it literally, after they voluntarily give them to him, so there’s not even any impactful demonstration of “don’t let anyone tell you your wishes are dumb or unachievable, or stop you from reaching them.” Even when he takes them away, it’s just because they…could, someday, be used to threaten his kingdom in a vague, really unlikely way. There are so many things you could do with “keep wishing for more even when it’s hard.” For instance; you could say the main character has always been afraid to dream (wish for more), because maybe when she was a kid something wonderful almost happened but ended in tragedy, so she keeps her head down and doesn’t want much because if you don’t dream you’ll never be disappointed. She takes no risks, and has to learn that sometimes trying and failing is worth more than slogging through life all self-protective. I mean, the pieces were right there. She has this line about her dad, and how she wished he would get better but then he died. She has lines about how nobody should have to live with grief?? Then that’s never addressed again! It’s just a throwaway emotion-moment with no buildup or follow-through to tie it to and support that main theme.

The compositions of too many shots were so terrible. Characters got cut off in weird places. One shot has Asha dead center, with her grandfather on the left side of the table and her mother on the right, having a family dinner with a super exposition-heavy conversation that is meant to be emotionally charged. But despite everything else being perfectly centered, half of her mother’s body is chopped off. The movie’s shot like someone’s mom who doesn’t understand technology tried to take a video with her phone.

The charm of the art “style” wears off basically immediately. I know what they were going for. I see the sketch lines and watercolor textures. This is maybe the first time Disney ever failed to accomplish a visual “look” that turned out good. Everything looks dull. Muted. De-saturated. Slightly out of focus, but not in a cool Spider-Verse way. The sets or backgrounds are lazy; at no point does the scenery look complete; big, empty, boring spaces that do not create any kind of “stage” for impactful moments. The rendering looks unfinished. When Asha’s hair moves during her belting of the “I Make This Wish” song, it’s bad. It’s unnatural. It flops in a way that doesn’t make sense for the weight of her hair. The most impactful visual moments come from the villain, and they’re moments when he looks way too unhinged for the kind of line he’s saying.

There is no interesting character development. Asha goes from believing everyone is basically good and their wishes deserve the chance to come true , to….that, again. That would be fine, she could be a static character, if she proved contrast-characters wrong, in a believable way. But she never does. Because no other characters argue with her except the King. And it goes no deeper than “everyone’s wishes are basically good and they deserve the chance to make them true” vs. “nuh-uh, because I get to decide what makes them deserving.” The King doesn’t have any kind of interesting development, either. They don’t expand on his tragic backstory—it consists of one drawing of him near a broken boat, and a few images of the corner burned off of his family taoestry. They never say “King Magnifico wished for _____ and it was taken away!” They literally never tell you what his wish or dreams were, or what motivated him to create the whole kingdom that the movie’s premise sits on. So there’s no convincing sense of progression, how he got this way, why he’ll keep going “so far.”

The pacing is weird. It undercuts every moment that could have any kind of emotion behind it. One minute Valentino is suavely bouncing around, then he’s given a two-second beat to blubber with badly-animated tears that he’ll miss Star—then he instantly gets to have another funny one-liner so we forget he might’ve been sad a second ago. We’re clearly supposed to believe that the King and his wife are devoted to each other, and his turning evil was such a big betrayal, but there’s no time and no impactful evidence for us to believe either of those things. And even if we did, the moment he’s defeated and trapped in a mirror, and begs to be let free, the Queen kind of shrugs it off, makes a forgettable one-liner, and tells them to throw him in the dungeon. And he doesn’t look remorseful. And we don’t even get to assume he’s embarrassed or emotionally devastated that he’s come to this—because the last thing he says is “nooo, the dungeon is so smellyyy!” Like this is a half-baked LEGO short that can’t get emotionally deeper than what an actual 3 year-old’s parents might be okay with.

And that’s the worst offense: The movie is not genuine. It works hard for nothing, and it has no vulnerability. It just uses old Disney standbys to pretend to be vulnerable. Have the music swell and the characters gasp and the songs drip emotion when characters are meant to be saying or doing something emotional.

But truthfully, think of all the Disney movies you’ve ever seen with the hardest emotional moments. The sheer joy of Genie when he realizes he’s free. The anguish when Elsa thinks Anna’s been frozen forever, or when Anna thinks she’s dead. The trauma when Simba loses Mufasa. The longing and dreaming of Ariel when she reaches up out of her grotto. The sense of foreboding when Mother Gothel says “fine, now I’m the bad guy” or the heartbreak in Rapunzel’s eyes when she thinks Flynn has abandoned her, or the shame on Aladdin’s face when Jafar reveals he’s a street-rat, or the horror of cruelty when the stepsisters rip up Cinderella’s dress, or Kala’s tears when Tarzan leaves her in the treehouse, or Sarabi’s tears when Simba comes back, or Mulan’s father tossing aside the sword and token of the Emperor to embrace Mulan, or heck, even just Lilo pushing Stitch in the woods and telling him “get out of here.” This movie has no moments like that. It has moments you can tell that the filmmakers wanted to hit like that—but they don’t.

Because no work is put into building them up. You know how much Simba loves Mufasa, because you’ve been watching their chemistry more than any other character all the way up till he dies. You know how much Mulan wants to please her family because she spends all of Act I desperately attempting to do that. You know Quasimodo believes the world below is beautiful and wants them to accept him because he has interesting things like—talking to gargoyles, convincing us that he’s lonely; building a scale model of the townspeople, convincing us that he sees them in a beautiful way and wishes he were beautiful in more ways than one like them, too.

Right down to the facial expressions, none of them are as anguished, happy, sad, excited, silly, in any convincing way like all of Disney’s other movies. Asha’s “low moment” when she’s afraid her “wish” hurt everyone else (still vague on what that wish ever was) lasts two seconds, she’s not crying, she’s barely sitting with slumped shoulders, and her family barely spend two seconds comforting her. They basically just say, “aw, no, it’s not y fault, it’s the king’s.” And she’s like, “yeah okay” and that’s that. It’s like the animators we’re afraid to animate really intimate emotions on the characters’ faces. The voice actors, too.

And the whole movie is peppered with Easter eggs to past Disney movies. But all that does, if you really know Disney beyond the visuals, is make you think of how hollow this movie is in comparison. How much you wish you were watching Cinderella or The Little Mermaid or something with depth and vulnerability instead of Wish.

[navybrat817]

Sign the Dotted Line

Pairing: Sugar Daddy!Andy Barber x Female Reader Summary: You discuss the terms with Estelle and wait the week before seeing Andy again. Word Count: Over 3.5k Warnings: Slow burn, reader is broke (is that a warning?), sugar daddy offer, tension, slight insecurities, inner monologue, Andy Barber (he's a warning, okay?) Graphic talent and thanks: Banner - @sgt-seabass, Divider - @firefly-graphics , Header - yours truly A/N: Welcome back to my Terms and Conditions AU! Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby (thanks!), but any and all mistakes are my own. ❤️ Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You had a hard time relaxing after your meeting with Andy. You couldn’t put your finger on why you were wound up. The discussion went well, even better than you expected. Andy wasn’t pushy considering the power he wielded, but also wasn’t a pushover when you questioned him or offered alternatives. He conducted himself the way you needed him to, both professionally and personally. If he hadn’t, you’d have a much harder time going along with his contact.

So why am I so restless?

Estelle, once again reminding you why she was one of the best friends a girl could have, stopped by your place with wine and pizza. “You were not about to tell me over the phone what happened. Once I get this passed out, dish.”

Your friend was unusually quiet as you gave her the rundown of the meeting and terms you agreed to. It meant a lot that she listened, but you expected her to chime in once or twice with her opinion as she refilled your glasses of wine. Was she thinking carefully about what to say or did she not have anything to add?

“I have three questions for you,” she said, drumming her manicured nails along her glass. “First, why didn’t you accept his higher offer for more money each month?”

There it is.

“Because it was an excessive amount of money considering he’s going to pay my bills and rent, along with getting me a new wardrobe AND a personal driver. Unless I’m going out with you or our friends, it doesn’t sound like I’m going to pay for anything.”

Saying it out loud made you shift uncomfortably in your chair. Everything you had was because you worked for it. Soon, you wouldn't even work at the diner. To think the next nine months you wouldn’t work? It didn't sound real.

It didn't sound like you.

“All I'm saying is you could’ve used that extra money for savings,” she pointed out with a raise of her glass. “Or to stock up on wine.”

You snorted a bit, taking a sip of your drink. “I’m still going to put money aside for savings, but the amount he’s going to spend taking care of me? It’s a lot.”

“Doesn’t sound like it’s much to him if he agreed so easily.”

“It’s a lot to me,” you said under your breath.

And I’m not about to take advantage of him.

Andy was going to take care of you like he promised. You had no doubt about that. The world he lived in, maybe it wouldn’t make much of a difference in his bank account to take on your debt for the next nine months. You weren’t going to push for more money when he was giving you the world and then some.

Estelle smiled into her glass. “I haven’t met the guy yet, but I think he likes you because you’re a good person. I mean, he wants you to have dinners with him so he can talk to you and to get to know you even more,” she said, leaning forward when you tried to look away. “Which brings me to my second question. How do you feel about the ‘no sex’ in the contract?”

Your stomach sank a bit, making you wonder if that was why you felt restless when you should’ve been happy. “Is it bad if I say it hurts my ego a little?”

It was irrational to have a bit of a bruised ego. Andy gave you an explanation as to why he didn’t add that clause and it made perfect sense. The fantasy that he wanted you still played out in your mind though. But what would wanting him lead you to? What did you have to offer him besides companionship?

“A little? Mine would’ve hurt a lot,” she joked, causing your face to fall more as your thoughts crushed you. “Sorry. I didn’t mean anything by that. Just because he doesn't have it in the contract doesn't mean he isn't attracted to you. Didn’t you say he complimented the dress, which we knew you looked hot in? And your smile?”

"He did,” you answered, heat creeping up your neck that had nothing to do with the wine. “But Andy is like a full course meal. What the hell am I?"

Estelle wadded up her napkin and threw it at your head, which you dodged. "So are you. If you don't believe me, at least consider yourself to be dessert or a fine wine," she said. You wouldn’t, but you weren’t about to tell her that. "And you know what? I respect the man a hell of a lot more for not adding anything sexual to the contract.”

“You do?”

“Yeah. You said if something happened, he wanted it to be natural or organic. He doesn’t want to take advantage of you. He wants to seduce you the old fashioned way. And I say let him. You can start by taking some of that money he gave you and buy some fancy lingerie.”

You finished your glasses, wondering what Andy liked. Did he like something simple and classic? What colors would get his attention? "I was going to pay you back for the dress and the shoes," you told her.

With a wrinkle of her nose, she snatched the bottle from the table "Those were a gift and I won't accept any money back," she said, pouring the rest of the wine into her glass. You figured that was what she'd say. "And because you offended me, no more wine for you."

"You’re the one who brought that bottle, so your rules," you reminded her as she shot you a look. "Okay, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have offered to pay you back for my present."

Estelle nodded after a moment. "Good. That's good practice for when Andy buys you something just because and you try to pay him back."

You refrained from rolling your eyes, but she had a point. You would probably try to pack him back whether he wanted it or not. "Is it really paying him back if it's with his own money?"

She pretended to think it over before laughing. "Probably not," she said as you stood up to take your glass to the sink. "Hey, I didn't ask my third question."

"Fire when ready."

"Do you really want to give it a week when you have your mind made up?"

Estelle knew you all too well. Even if you hadn't told her from the start that you planned to sign the contract, she would've figured it out. "The time frame was his call."

While it did give you time to think it through, surely he had to get things in order, too. Like your new place. God, you couldn't believe you were going to move into his building.

"You could ask him to move up the date? Worst thing he could say is 'no'."

Maybe.

"Yeah," you said, going to sit back down with a huff. "Are you sure you don't mind being in the know of this? And having to keep it under wraps?"

"Are you kidding? It's an honor you asked me," she said, holding her head high with such confidence you had to smile. "I got your back."

"Thanks, Estelle," you said.

She waved her hand dismissively, but had a smile on her face. "Don't mention it."

"Okay. Now enough about me," you smiled. "Tell me about your day."

"Well," she smirked, tilting her head as she paused dramatically. "I may have found a guy for Wendy."

Your eyes lit up, happy you asked. Wendy was another friend of yours who hadn’t dated in awhile. "Tell me everything."

You managed to keep your focus on Estelle as she told you about the gorgeous guy she met in a coffee shop who was just Wendy’s type. You wondered how different things would've been had you and Andy met that way. Would it change your story? Would you be where you were now?

Staring at your phone when Estelle went to use the bathroom, you debated whether or not to text Andy. You just saw him earlier today and he had a business dinner. How desperate would you look asking him to move the contract date up?

"Fuck it," you muttered, snatching the device and quickly typing out a message. Communication was key. Like honesty.

"I don't want to wait a week, but I understand if we have to. I hope your dinner went well."

“BOO!” You nearly dropped your phone when Estelle smacked the couch behind you. "You messaged him, didn't you?"

"Yeah," you giggled, holding your chest to calm your pounding heart. "Told him I didn't want to wait a week, but understood if we had to."

"Hopefully he listens. Well, he will if he wants to get in your pants."

"Stop," you giggled as your phone went off, holding your breath as you read the message.

"I'd rather have dinner with you. And I understand you don’t want to wait, but what was it you said about anticipation?"

Using anticipation against me.

"Fine, Daddy."

The three dots popped up immediately as he typed. "You're teasing me, honey."

"Maybe. I'll see you in a week."

“Looking forward to it, but one more thing I forgot to mention. I’d like a witness for the contract signing.”

"Are you two sexting?" Estelle asked, wiggling her eyebrows.

"No," you smiled.

Just called him 'Daddy'.

"But he's sticking it out for the week," you said, only a little disappointed. He did have to draw up a contract. “And we need a witness for the signing. I’d like it to be you.”

"Ooh. He's making you wait for it," she said, giving you a small smile. "Give me the time and date and I’ll be there."

“Thanks,” you smiled, sending Andy back a message. “Estelle volunteered.”

“Perfect.”

“One more week and he’s yours,” Estelle smiled.

"One more week."

It really was the longest week of your life to wait to see Andy again, but today was the day.

Your heart beat fast as you and Estelle went into the building and went through the motions with the security guard. You half expected Irene to tell you Andy didn’t have an appointment with you as you made your way to the office. It was silly to think he’d back out, but your nerves were getting the better of you. And why?

Because you hadn’t heard from Andy. Not once. You kept looking at the door expectantly during your shifts at the diner, only to be met with disappointment when he didn’t show. You also didn’t want to admit how many times you checked your phone to see if he reached out. The man had more important things to do than visit or text you.

“Cheer up,” Estelle told you in the elevator. You felt bad. You were sulking and you didn’t try to hide it. Part of that scared you because why did it matter that he had gone radio silent?

“You don’t think he changed his mind, do you?”

“No. He’s just a busy man. Get out of your head.”

“I’m trying,” you sighed.

You led Estelle to the office, expecting to see Irene. All you saw was an empty desk. The light above her chair was off, too. The double doors were shut. Maybe it was a sign. This was too good to be true.

Andy was too good to be true.

“There you are,” you heard as the double doors opened.

“Holy shit,” Estelle breathed, almost making you elbow her.

“Andy,” you said, not quite smiling when you caught sight of him. He didn’t have a blazer on and the sleeves of his shirt were rolled up. “I was just-”

“Irene wasn’t feeling well, so I sent her home for the day. Come on in.”

“Can you give us a minute?” You asked your friend, who raised an eyebrow in response.

“Yeah. I’ll be here,” she said, taking a seat. Once Andy's back was turned, she mouthed, "Hot!"

Yeah, he is.

You clutched your bag a little tighter as you walked in, reminding yourself to breathe as Andy shut the door. “We’re still doing this?” You asked, your voice shaky.

“Of course, we are,” he said, pulling out the chair that you sat in a week before. “Why? Are you having second thoughts?”

“No. Truthfully, I thought you changed your mind.”

Andy paused before he took his seat. “I have no reason to back out. I offered and want this. I said I’d take care of you and I’m a man of my word. I’m happy to prove that to you if you don’t believe me,” he said, carefully looking you over as blood rushed to your cheeks. “What made you think I’d change my mind?”

You shook your head. “It’s silly.”

“It isn’t silly to me,” he said, sweeping his gaze over you once again. “You’re stiff, honey, and you’re barely looking me in the eye. What’s going on? What do I need to do to put you at ease?”

You swallowed a little. “It was a long week to think it over and I hadn’t heard from you. Because of that, I wasn’t sure if you maybe decided to change your mind,” you explained, lifting your eyes to meet his. You were met with concern and care. “Silly, right?”

“No, it isn’t,” he assured you, sliding a small packet across the table to give you a chance to look at the top page. It was the contact. He really put it together. “May I explain?”

“Of course,” you whispered.

He surprised you by moving his chair around the table so he was beside you instead of across from you. “First, I’m sorry my silence caused any doubt. That wasn’t my intention. I only wanted to give you time to think things through,” he said, his tone gentle as he tapped the contract with his finger. “Would I have this here if I wanted to change my mind?”

“No, I don’t think,” you said, feeling a bit small.

“Second,” he said, a small smile on his face as he took out his phone. “I was the last one to message you. Maybe I didn’t want to bombard you between work.”

You stared at his phone and realized he was right. The last thing he sent was “Perfect.” regarding Estelle was your witness. You never said anything else. God, you were an idiot.

“So you were waiting to hear back from me?” You tried to tease as his smile widened. It was a handsome look. “Okay. So. I may have let my nerves get the better of me. I’m sorry. I just really want this to work.”

It took a lot for you to say that, but there was no judgment from him as he placed his hand over yours.

“So do I, honey,” he said in a low voice. “For the record, you can message me whenever you want. It won’t bother me.”

“Ditto,” you said before you cringed.

Ditto? Really? So eloquent.

He chuckled as he handed you a pen, leaning in a bit closer and giving you a chance to catch that cologne of his you loved. You’d never be able to smell it again without thinking of him. “As long as you’re okay and ready, would you like to start?”

“Yes, I would,” you smiled, sparing him another glance. “Thank you, Andy.”

He didn’t have to put you at ease. He could’ve easily laughed you off as sounding clingy or desperate, but he soothed your nerves. You shouldn’t have expected anything less from an ex-lawyer and, what you believed to be, a good man.

“Of course,” he said, going to the door to get Estelle. “Come in. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you, too,” she said, smiling as she shook Andy’s hand. “Heard a lot about you.”

A pange of jealousy settled in your chest when Andy chuckled, making you look away. Estelle was the kind of woman Andy should be with. She belonged in his world. But she wouldn’t do anything. She was a good friend and knew you were at the very least attached to Andy.

I need to get a grip.

You had no idea why the voice in your head was being so cruel to you. First the assumption about Andy backing out and now this. It needed to stop.

“I appreciate you taking the time out of your schedule to be here. I realize there are some stigmas when it comes to contracts, so I want you to know I have her best interest at heart.”

“We’ll see about that, won’t we?” Estelle asked, winking at you as she sat down and squashing those nerves once more.

“I also have an NDA for you to sign,” Andy added as he took a seat again beside you and leveled your friend with a look. “I don’t really care what people say about me if word gets out. It won't make a difference. I won’t, however, have them slander her. So I’m trusting you to protect her.”

Estelle’s eyebrows shot up as did yours. Andy’s reputation meant a lot more than yours, yet it was you he was worried about. “You are so authoritative and bossy. No wonder you're in charge,” she said, grabbing a pen for herself. "I'll sign whatever you put in front of me."

“Okay then,” Andy smiled, tilting the paper so both of you could look together. “Let’s get started.”

Andy carefully read over each section, giving both you and Estelle a chance to object or stop him. Everything discussed was accounted for. The length of the contract, job, living arrangements, expenses, travel, he had it all. No red flags jumped out. Nothing of concern. You saw no reason to object when he stated everything as agreed.

“Any questions?” He asked, like he had after every portion.

“Back to the living arrangements,” Estelle said, pointing her pen at him. “I want to be there when she moves in.”

“You do?” You questioned with a look. “You hate moving.”

“Oh, I don’t plan on doing any of the heavy lifting,” she teased. She usually paid people for that. “But I insist on seeing your building and where she’s going to live. I may ask to see your place, too.”

His place? Why?

Andy appeared surprised by the request as well. “My place? Is that necessary?”

“If you plan on having her there, yes. I want to make sure it’s safe. I get that she’s your sugar baby once she signs the dotted line, but she’s my best friend. She was before she met you and she will be once this contract ends. You want to protect her? So do I.”

Andy hummed thoughtfully. “What do you think?” he asked you.

You would feel more comfortable with someone you trusted there. Not that you didn't trust Andy, but the situation wasn't normal and you understood Estelle’s insistence. Still, seeing his place? Was she being a bit nosy? Was she curious about the man?

She's looking out for me.

“I think that’s fine, all things considered,” you replied.

“Okay. You’ll be there when she moves in and you’re welcome to see my place,” Andy agreed.

“With me there,” you added. She had no reason to see Andy’s place all by herself.

“Duh,” Estelle smiled with a wave of her hand. “Proceed.”

Minutes later, Andy finished and signed the document when you didn't raise any concerns. He slid the last page in your direction and your hand trembled a bit as you went to sign. You caught a look of worry on Estelle’s face when you hesitated. You were so close.

“Honey?” Andy asked so softly you almost missed it.

“I said I’d take care of you and I’m a man of my word.”

With an exhale, you signed your name. This was it. For the next nine months, you’d belong to Andy. Well, in some ways.

Andy’s smile warmed your heart as he passed the sheet to Estelle. Her smile was bright enough to light up the room as she signed. She was thrilled for you.

And you allowed yourself to feel happy, too.

“You’re officially a sugar baby!” Estelle said, quickly signing the NDA as you and Andy exchanged a look. You wished you knew what he was thinking. “We need to celebrate.”

Andy cleared his throat. “Actually, I was kind of hoping I could steal her away for a bit after I make her a copy of this.”

“You were?” You and Estelle asked in unison.

“Yeah,” he smiled as he got to his feet. He practically towered over you where you sat. “I want to take you to the diner myself so you can turn in your notice. What do you say?”

You smiled as Estelle clapped her hands together. “Let’s go.”

After that, you could celebrate the next chapter in your life.

It's official! Here we go! Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Andy Barber Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[haggishlyhagging]

The more women are paid, the less eager they are to marry. A 1982 study of three thousand singles found that women earning high incomes are almost twice as likely to want to remain unwed as women earning low incomes. "What is going to happen to marriage and childbearing in a society where women really have equality?" Princeton demographer Charles Westoff wondered in the Wall Street Journal in 1986. "The more economically independent women are, the less attractive marriage becomes."

Men in the '80s, on the other hand, were a little more anxious to marry than the press accounts let on. Single men far outnumbered women in dating services, matchmaking clubs, and the personals columns, all of which enjoyed explosive growth in the decade. In the mid-80s, video dating services were complaining of a three-to-one male-to-female sex ratio in their membership rolls. In fact, it had become common practice for dating services to admit single women at heavily reduced rates, even free memberships, in hopes of remedying the imbalance.

Personal ads were similarly lopsided. In an analysis of 1,200 ads in 1988, sociologist Theresa Montini found that most were placed by thirty-five-year-old heterosexual men and the vast majority "wanted a long-term relationship." Dating service directors reported that the majority of men they counseled were seeking spouses, not dates. When Great Expectations, the nation's largest dating service, surveyed its members in 1988, it found that 93 percent of the men wanted, within one year, to have either "a commitment with one person" or marriage. Only 7 percent of the men said they were seeking "lots of dates with different people." Asked to describe "what concerns you the day after you had sex with a new partner," only 9 percent of the men checked "Was I good?" while 42 percent said they were wondering whether it could lead to a "committed relationship."

These men had good cause to pursue nuptials; if there's one pattern that psychological studies have established, it's that the institution of marriage has an overwhelmingly salutary effect on men's mental health. "Being married," the prominent government demographer Paul Glick once estimated, "is about twice as advantageous to men as to women in terms of continued survival." Or, as family sociologist Jessie Bernard wrote in 1972:

“There are few findings more consistent, less equivocal, [and] more convincing, than the sometimes spectacular and always impressive superiority on almost every index—demographic, psychological, or social—of married over never-married men. Despite all the jokes about marriage in which men indulge, all the complaints they lodge against it, it is one of the greatest boons of their sex.”

Bernard's observation still applies. As Ronald C. Kessler, who tracks changes in men's mental health at the University of Michigan's Institute for Social Research, says: "All this business about how hard it is to be a single woman doesn't make much sense when you look at what's really going on. It's single men who have the worst of it. When men marry, their mental health massively increases."

The mental health data, chronicled in dozens of studies that have looked at marital differences in the last forty years, are consistent and overwhelming: The suicide rate of single men is twice as high as that of married men. Single men suffer from nearly twice as many severe neurotic symptoms and are far more susceptible to nervous breakdowns, depression, even nightmares. And despite the all-American image of the carefree single cowboy, in reality bachelors are far more likely to be morose, passive, and phobic than married men.

When contrasted with single women, unwed men fared no better in mental health studies. Single men suffer from twice as many mental health impairments as single women; they are more depressed, more passive, more likely to experience nervous breakdowns and all the designated symptoms of psychological distress—from fainting to insomnia. In one study, one third of the single men scored high for severe neurotic symptoms; only 4 percent of the single women did.

-Susan Faludi, Backlash: the Undeclared War Against American Women

[woniverse-writes]

Hey so I’ve been a huge fan of all your works with Bada and I was wondering if you could do a request for me with bada.

So reader is in BEBE and is born in 1997 which makes her the 2nd oldest in the group but she tends to be almost like the maknae ,always laughing (obviously very serious when it comes to dancing) smiling (not always acting cute it annoys me 🙃) and like how Bada, Lusher, Tatter, Kyma, Minha, Cheche, and Soweon always look at her in like adoration.

Obviously you can change it/interpret how you want too.

And I’m very sorry if it doesn’t make sense

Thanks ☺️

“Sweet Bebe”

bada lee x teammate!reader

summary: being one of the oldest members of your crew typically meant you were supposed to look out for the younger members, which you still do! except everyone seems to be looking out for you more due to your clumsy and energetic personality.

word count: 3.3k

warnings: the first 600-ish words have like- nothing to do with Bada and it's all backstory i'm so sorry lmao, i don't really like how this turned out but i hope you do, not proofread

Typically being one of the oldest members of any team or crew meant you had to carry some sort of authority or responsibility… that was not the case for Y/n. being the second oldest member of the dance crew Bebe, meant absolutely nothing to her on most days. She did happen to take on the motherly role a lot of the time, but more so in a fun, cutely caring for her members type of way. It was almost as if she took care of her members by letting them take care of her. The youngest teammates specifically liked to baby her, getting a kick out of their cute older sister.

Even before it had been decided that the crew would come together for Street Woman Fighter season 2, the girl had been just as lively and attentive to her friends, always making sure to have a positive energy and smile on her face when in the studio.

Y/n and Bada had known each other since the younger was in college. She had begun training under SM in her last year of middle school, focusing on becoming a vocalist at the time, but transitioned into focusing on dance in her second year of high school. Y/n was a part of SM Rookie and had almost debuted with Red Velvet at the same time as Yeri, but ultimately the company decided they only wanted to add one member and thought Yeri was a better fit. When she entered university, she stopped training to be an idol but decided to stick with dance, majoring in performance and choreography. By the time she was 19 she was already choreographing for some big groups. 

Y/n’s first step into the kpop industry was when she worked with Lia Kim on Twice’s “TT”, coming up with the iconic hand gesture herself, but many don’t associate her with the dance since she wasn’t credited at first as a rookie choreographer. By the time she did receive credit, people already knew the choreography as solely Lia Kim’s. But the younger girl wasn’t phased, seeing as she was invited back a little less than a year later to choreograph Twice’s “signal” all by herself.

The young choreographer began to gain even more recognition after working on “Likey”, coming up with three different versions of the dance break and eventually posting all three to her social media accounts. She continued working with Twice and choreographed for “Heart Shaker”, “Candy Pop”, “What is Love”, “Dance the Night Away”, and “Yes or Yes. She secured a position as an in-house choreographer for JYP, specifically Twice at such a young age, and national and international supporters alike were impressed were her skills. What many people didn’t know was that she was invited to choreograph “Red Flavor” by Red Velvet and initially agreed, and choreographed the routine, but SM ended up not using her choreography. The poor girl was really starting to think they had some hidden agenda against her.

Y/n’s popularity was on a gradual upward incline and suddenly boomed when “Fancy” was released, seeing as the song was a turning point for the group. It was also the first time she took on a director position instead of just a choreographer. Y/n was offered the role of creative director on top of main choreographer. Things only continued to get better for her career after she produced the moves and creative brief for “breakthrough”, which caused people to realize the girl was capable of doing more than just cute dances. As soon as “Feel Special” was released, y/n was getting calls left and right, especially from SM.

They offered her the main choreographer position for Red Velvet’s next comeback, “Psycho”. She was skeptical at first due to their lackadaisical behavior when working with her but ultimately agreed since she had nothing else at the time. Y/n submitted her dance, expecting to not hear back after that and be left to assume they went with another choreographer. So when she got a phone call a couple of days later asking her if she’d be able to begin teaching the choreography the following day, the girl just about died on the spot. “Psycho” was released and everyone was OBSESSED with the choreography.

This was about the time when Bada and Y/n first met. At the end of 2019, SM was having its annual end-of-the-year celebration, inviting all of its artists and staff, including any choreographer who worked in-house or was brought in specifically at any point. Y/n originally intended on not going but ultimately decided she would after realizing it could be a good networking opportunity. 

Y/n wasn’t cocky by any means, but she was confident. The girl was bubbly and charming, so naturally she attracted people, including Bada Lee. the tall dancer approached the younger girl and professionally introduced herself. 

“You’re Y/n L/n, correct?” to which the younger smiled even wider and nodded enthusiastically. Bada couldn’t help but giggle at the girl’s bright energy, liking how it stuck out against the blandness that typically came with business parties. 

“I really love your work. It’s so refreshing, and even your more mature choreographies have this energizing quality to them…” the tall dancer complimented and y/n could feel her face heat up, eyes widening, and mouth falling open. She stammered for a moment, overjoyed with the compliment.

“Thank you so much- I- you don’t understand how much that means to me. Truly, thank you.” her smile was so huge that Bada thought if it got any bigger the poor girl’s face would split open, but the older of the two was simply endeared. They stuck by each other’s sides practically the whole night after that… and they haven’t parted since.

“My sweet angel dearest… can you please sit down?” the Bebe leader jokingly requested as she and her teammates observed their second eldest member bouncing around the room at lightning speed. They all stifled giggles and wore smiles of adoration as they continued to watch Y/n smile and explore their new team space. The girls loved how energetic and bubbly she was, thinking of it as a strength since the rest of them were more chill and reserved. Having y/n around kept the team’s morale high, since she’s always the one to check up on everyone, always first to cheer someone up, and always making sure everyone is taken care of before and after they start practice.

“Unnie- you know I can’t just sit and do nothing while we wait. This is all too exciting!!” which caused Bada to just smile and shake her head. The leader loved all of her crew members but had a specific soft spot for Y/n seeing as she’d known her the longest out of all of the others (and the girl may or may not make her heart flutter).

The monitor lit up and an announcement popped up on the screen. The girls all made a noise of shock, and Y/n quickly ran to seat herself in the empty space left between Bada and Tatter

“Our baby” the blonde patted the older girl’s head endearingly, causing her to giggle

“Noooo, you’re MY baby, hmph” she retorted, wrapping her arms around the other and squeezing her gently while fake pouting. The screen told them they were now allowed to head down to the fight zone and Y/n sprung back up with a small noise of excitement. She and Bada were the first two to lead the group down, the older one smiling softly at her slightly younger teammate who looked around with wide sparkly eyes. Once they were in the center of the dance floor a video began playing.

“Their team was just formed within the last year…they can’t have very good chemistry”

“People only know Bada and Y/n”

“Bada is more popular than her talents”

“Y/n won’t be able to keep up… she’s a good choreographer but she’s too soft for a competition like this” Y/n laughed loudly at this one, not being able to take anyone seriously, especially Mina Myoung who found an issue with everyone. Bada on the other hand was far from amused. The leader glared at the screen until the video ended, then scoffed as she began heading over to their team’s designated seats.

“Unnie, don’t get so worked up- they’re obviously just trying to get a reaction and it’s clearly working, so don’t let them see it…” the second oldest gently comforted the leader with a hand on her shoulder. Y/n had taken her seat right next to Bada, which had become the usual for them. No matter where they went, whether it was just the two of them, all of team Bebe, or even them and some other people; Y/n always found her place next to Bada. Y/n and Bada had become practically inseparable since that night they met.

Bada grabbed the hand that was on her shoulder and gently began stroking the back of it with her thumb, and Y/n’s immediate response was to plop her head down as a replacement. The leader couldn’t help the chuckle that left her at the girl’s reaction, she could practically see her tail wagging if she had one. The other Bebe members loved to call Y/n “baby-unnie” or just “baby” because of how soft and cute she was, but they often called her “puppy” as well due to her energetic and bright personality. It was typically the younger members who called her this, but occasionally Bada would take part in the teasing, loving how flushed the girl’s face got when she specifically called her by those names.

The other crews arrived and of course, Bebe held up their chill, cool-girl image. Even y/n looked intimidating with how pretty she was and how relaxed her smile had become. After all the other videos were played, the teams changed into more relaxed clothing, preparing for the no-respect battles. When they returned the leaders of each crew handed out the ‘no-respect’ stickers to each dancer. While most of Bebe didn’t have any Bada and Y/n were the only two who did, with the leader having two and the second oldest having five.

“I still can’t believe you got that many votes…” Kyma mumbled in astonishment as she watched Lusher and Tatter place the stickers all over their member. Y/n just laughed and shrugged.

“They don’t think I can battle, that’s why- but it’s okay cuz now I get to show everyone how wrong they were…” she calmly and cooly explained, patting Kyma on the head as the other two members finished with the stickers. The battles began and the first dancer called was Redy from 1 Million.

Redy chose Bada as her no-respect dancer due to some personal issue that occurred between the two at some point. The younger dancer did put up a pretty good fight, but Bada was practically untouchable. Y/n was jumping up and down and screaming as loud as possible at her leader, the smile on her face almost painful at this point. 

When Bada finished she cooly headed back over to her team and Y/n pounced on her, wrapping her arms around the older girl's neck. The leader laughed and loosely wrapped her arms around Y/n’s waist, the two staying like that for a few moments until the applause died down. Once it was time to announce the results, Bada headed back to the center while her crew waited patiently behind her. When the judges announced her as the winner of the battle, Y/n was jumping seven feet in the air, rushing to cling to Bada again.

A few more battles went by before Y/n was called for her first one, the challenger being Gooseul from Deep n Dap. The Bebe dancer was a bit shocked, not knowing much of her or the crew besides Mina Myoung. The battle started with the pink-haired dancer- she wasn’t bad, but still very obviously an amateur. Her 40 seconds went back and it was Y/n’s turn. “One Dance” by Drake started playing and the girl immediately got into the vibe. She sensually grooved to the rhythm and naturally hit every beat, creating a dynamic performance. Her facials were completely different than usual- eyes taking on the look of a siren instead of the angel Y/n usually appeared to be. 

“Oh my god- her face totally changed…”

“I knew I was gonna regret picking her…”

“Bebe is really just a team full of dancers that know how to attract women-”

Bada smirked picking up all the little comments she was hearing from around the arena, but ultimately focusing on her girl tearing up the stage in front of her. The battle ended and as soon as she was done dancing, Y/n blinked and was back to her sweet self. Sparkly eyes and a bright smile taking over, the second-oldest Bebe member turned to her members who all embraced her in a giant hug, squeezing her and squishing her face, cooing and awing at her.

“Unnie- how dare you dance like that! You’re just a baby!” Minah joked while holding Y/n’s face in her hands, causing the rest of the team to laugh and tease her. The winner was announced, and when the judges all held up team Bebe’s blue card, the members stormed the stage and cheered on their member once again. When Y/n had to go over to Deep and Dap and place the loser plaque on their board, she made sure to thank Gooseul and shake her hand. She returned to her team and they all made sure to pat her on the head or shoulder, showing their final bits of appreciation for their baby-unnie.

“Isn’t Y/n one of the oldest?” JJ turned to Mina after watching Bebe act affectionately toward her.

“Yeah- it goes Bada then her then the others… why?” the DnD leader questioned.

“She just seems so young… and they all treat her like their baby- I would’ve guessed she was the maknae” the expressive girl seriously remarked in an entertaining matter, genuinely surprised at how old the other dancer actually was.

When Bada and Redlic faced against each other, Y/n was interested to see how it would turn out seeing as Redlic didn’t really seem to be on her game today. The second oldest Bebe member was used to the blonde being a pretty good dancer and decent at improv, so her performances today were really disappointing and confusing. Y/n lost interest after Redlic’s second spin around, but then got all up in Bada’s face putting her hands all over the tall dancer, getting more of a reaction out of her team member than her.

“What was that…” Y/n and Lusher were side-eyeing each other, not liking the interaction at all. the younger of the two being the only one to know about the leader’s and second oldest’s true feelings for each other, was a huge supporter of them- even though everyone else thought she was delusional.

“Unnie how are you not losing your shit right now…” Lusher mumbled, eyes trained on the blonde dancer still all up on Bada. when she didn’t get any response, the younger member looked over and was immediately shocked by the expression Y/n had. An icy glare and condescending smirk took over her features, hinting at the slightest bit of disgust. When Redlic’s turn was over Bada’s music started playing and her body immediately reacted to the beat. She walked around a bit to really get into it, turning to meet her teammates’ gazes briefly. She makes eye contact with Y/n, who has a very serious (and lowkey scary) expression

“Eat her up… or I’ll kill you” The other members struggled not to react to the out-of-character comment and keep up their hype, but Bada was completely unphased. While others only saw the refreshing side of Y/n, Bada got to experience just how serious and sometimes vicious the girl can get (especially when threatened). So instead of having an internal panic like the others, she just smirked slightly and continued to get in the groove.

Bada began dancing hitting every mark and beat, facials on point, and truly getting into the rhythm of the song. It was like the music was inside her with how easily she reacted. Her team’s screams and cheers carried her through the rest of the performance and the second her music ended she circled back around to her team, stopping at Y/n who stood with a satisfied smile. They all stood together as they awaited the results, the leader standing tall and relaxed with her arm draped over the second-oldest member’s shoulders. Y/n stood intimidatingly with her arms crossed, glaring at the other team until Bebe was once again announced as the winner. Her eyes quickly lit up and her smile returned, turning in Bada’s hold to wrap her arms around the older girl’s waist.

“I wasn’t worried at all, but I really hated watching her dance…” she mumbled into the leader’s chest, who just laughed loudly and patted her head before squeezing her tightly. Bada placed the loser plaque onto Mannequeen’s board and calmly strutted back over to her team. She took her place next to Y/n who leaned into her side with a pout, causing the older to roll her eyes and chuckle before wrapping her arm around the younger girl again.

“You’re never this pouty- what’s up?” the leader whispered gently, playing with the ends of the other girl’s hair

“I just don’t like watching people dance with you like that… it’s annoying” Y/n mumbled, still pouting with arms slightly crossed. Bada tried to stifle her laugh and avoid teasing her teammate, but she honestly couldn’t pass up the opportunity. 

“Ayyyye… are you jealous?” the leader tried to tease and get a reaction out of her, hoping to see the younger dancer blush

“Yes! I didn’t like that…” Y/n admitted, not meeting the older girl’s eyes which were now boring into the side of her head. Bada tilted her head, a bit shocked at the statement and how open the younger was being. She was used to Y/n’s honesty, relying on it often, but the girl was never really open about her own feelings. She looked after the team with a gentle, motherly aura, allowing the girls to tease her and baby her in order to feel more relaxed. Y/n never seemed tired or upset when practices were harder than usual, so in all honesty, it was rare to see the girl in a mood like this. Bada knew the pout was mostly for show, but she could tell how serious Y/n was about being jealous. 

“Don’t worry, you’re my only baby…” She squeezed her shoulder and placed a gentle kiss on the top of her head before looking back toward the next set of dancers who were preparing to battle. Y/n’s eyes went slightly wide as she glanced over to the leader and her pout was broken after seeing the light blush on Bada’s face. She huffed out a soft laugh and snuggled back into the leader’s side, the rest of her team sitting behind them smiling with love and adoration at the two.

permanent taglist: @uwulyn @luvjanexx @randomhoex @1luvkarina

[whorergal]

SHE'S MINE (PART TWO)

summary: after you've been attacked, the group becomes cautious and confused, now being targeted as well. but you still can't get over the fact that ghostface had helped you and why you think you know who it may be. and maybe you wouldn't mind keeping a secret.

warnings: scream vi spoilers, language (cussing), blood, gore. it follows the plot loosely.

pairings: ethan landry x fem!reader

authors note: hiiii i really hope u enjoy :-) also i have no idea if mindy shared the apartment with tara, sam and quinn but if she didn’t, we're just going to pretend she does and i also altered ethan's motive a bit too for this (lowkey was inspired by don't blame me by taylor swift so if you like listening to music when reading, i recommend that song for this part)

❗️: you can find part one here and part three here if you need it :3

———————————————————————————

The hospital visit wasn't as long as you anticipated. Two of the stabs you endured hadn't cut deep so they were able to stitch it upon your first visit and they closed up that same night—it still hurt like a bitch. Your previous stab wound was the worst one overall as the stitching process was a lot more painful because your skin was sensitive as it had been punctured once before.

When you were released, Sam took you under her care. She didn't feel safe having you and Anika alone in your apartment since the attack so she offered her, Tara, Mindy and Quinn's home to you two. It didn't really matter for Anika as she was always there in the first place but it bothered you.

You didn't mean to feel unappreciative but you hated being controlled by useless fear. Whether or not Ghostface attacked you in your home, he would find them someway or another; it didn't matter where you were. But, you agreed in order to clear her conscious.

They didn't ask much questions when you were in the hospital. After the second Ghostface left the apartment, you remembered blacking out and waking up in the hospital bed with Anika by your side. The doctor wouldn't let anyone come in since you were preparing for surgery but decided to let Anika stay since she was your roommate.

Her story was that your security system she had built when you two first moved in had went off when the second Ghostface broke in. Her and Mindy didn't tell everyone before leaving because they didn't want to risk not making it in time. The frat house was only a block down so they just ran their way to your building, ultimately finding your unconscious body on the kitchen floor.

Anika told you that they had met Ethan at the entrance of the building when the ambulance was called and said you called him, which was true but you wondered what took him so long. You were highly suspicious of him but you didn't want to be because he was your best-friend, you couldn't imagine him having anything to do with this.

Ever since that night, he was around, a lot. He even skipped his Econ classes to keep you company because Sam didn't want you to be alone and everyone else was busy.

You didn't ask him about what happened. You were afraid of what the outcome would be. But you knew you had to do something in order to understand. At least interrogating the truth out of him (because he couldn't lie to you) would give you peace of mind—well, depending on the answer.

"You don't have to be here, you know." You broke the silence, watching him write notes from the lecture he was missing.

"But I want to be," he told you honestly.

"E, you're missing Econ. You have an exam this week."

"I'll be fine, don't worry." He looked up from his notebook, putting the lecture video on pause to give you his full attention. "I don't want anything to happen to you again."

"Ghostface rarely attacks in the daytime," you joked.

"Still, Y/N/N." He was being serious. "Your stitches haven't even fully healed yet."

"This isn't the first time." You sighed. "Plus, Ghostface never attacks the same person twice."

"Says who?"

"Says Mindy."

Ethan rolled his eyes. "Yeah, well, I don't want to take any chances."

It went back to comfortable silence. You went back to reading your book for your English class while he continued to write his notes. After a couple more minutes, you decided to ask the question that had been eating you alive.

"What took you so long?" you asked randomly.

He furrowed his brows, turning to look at you. "What do you mean?"

"When I was attacked," you clarified. "I called you and you said you and Chad were on the way. Anika and Mindy beat you to it and Chad wasn't even with you when you arrived."

Ethan looked away, his face becoming pale. "Well, I went to go find Chad when you were on the call but I couldn't find him so I decided to leave. I didn't realize how much time I wasted until I saw police lights outside your building."

That was the first and final conversation you two had about it. You gathered what you knew from it but, again, you didn't want to believe he was Ghostface. Unless he wasn't and used the costume to throw the other one off. But where could he buy a replica of it that quickly and still be able to make it in time to save you? It didn't make sense.

You kept this realization to yourself. You felt guilty for it, especially because if he was apart of the plan in harming your friends, this smudge of proof could be enough to hold him accountable before it was taken too far. Of course, you didn't listen to yourself and decided to keep his secret that he wasn't even sure you knew because of how much you liked him.

On the third day of your recovery, your stitching was finally beginning to heal. It hurt to bend down and sometimes walk because it worked the muscles underneath the wound but you couldn't stand doing nothing anymore.

You made the excuse that you were planning to meet Ethan at his dorm for the night because you promised to help him with Econ. Sam wasn't exactly keen on the idea, wondering why he couldn't come to meet you here but you told her you were beginning to feel claustrophobic and wanted to get out. She didn't say much in defense and reluctantly agreed.

They all offered to walk you there just in case something were to happen but you brushed them off. If your assumption about Ethan was correct, he wouldn't let anything happen to you.

The subway was packed because it was nearing Halloween and it took you awhile to finally make it inside one. And the thirty minute ride to campus added onto the time. It was around twelve at night when you arrived at his dorm.

First, you decided to knock. Nobody answered. Then you remembered he had an Econ lecture to attend for the night and took out the extra key he had given you awhile ago and unlocked it yourself.

Honestly, you were glad he wasn't there because it would make your digging a lot more easier.

You searched through everything he owned. Through his drawers (which you highly regretted), under his bed, inside some of his unpacked bags—everywhere but you couldn't find anything that incriminated him.

It had been what felt like hours, but was really only thirty minutes, when you gave up. Your phone was going off but you didn't pay any mind to it because the group had consistently texted you ever since your attack; you just assumed it was them checking up on you and then getting paranoid because you weren't answering. Even if you knew you should've checked, you didn't bother as you were going to head back to the apartment anyway.

You quietly snuck out of the room, making sure the coast was clear until you turned your head to the left and saw Ghostface, waiting there for you. When you tried to scream, they grabbed your face with their hand, restricting your voice from releasing.

They were strong, being able to grab your entire body with their one arm and toss you carelessly back into the room.

You hit the floor, wincing at the impact because of your stitches. Ghostface shut the door behind them, looking down at you. They stalked toward you very slowly as you made sure to keep your distance from them.

Using the dresser that stood behind you, you lifted yourself up with your available arm as the other clutched your stitching instinctively to keep you balanced. It was a silent stare-down until they reached for their mask, untucking it from the behind. Then, they pulled it off.

You stared in shock. "…Ethan?"

"Y/N." He didn't have much expression on his face. He looked out of breath as you could see sweat shimmering on his face from the lighting.

"Oh, my god," You breathed out. Although you suspected him this whole time, finally being able to know it was the truth hurt you more than being stabbed. "You're Ghostface."

"What the hell are you doing here?" Ethan ignored your statement as he furrowed his brows.

"I knew it. I knew you were the one who saved me," you confessed. "That's why I'm here."

"You shouldn't be here," he told you, shaking his head.

"You're trying to kill me and our friends and you're telling me what I shouldn't be doing?!"

"Y/N, there's more to this than you know."

"That much is obvious," you snapped. He tried to step toward you but you backed up. "Stay away from me."

"Please, just listen to me," Ethan began to plead.

"You let them attack me!"

"No, I didn't!" he declared, lowering his voice when he saw it made you flinch. "They promised to leave you out of it. That was the only thing I told them to do."

"They?" you repeated in confusion.

He thought over his response for a second. "Look, what I'm doing—what I've done—is for a good reason. You have to understand."

You furrowed your brows. "What have you done, E?" You couldn't help but use his nickname; you couldn't help but try to hear him out.

"Y/N." He walked toward you slowly and this time, you didn't back away from him. "You're the only thing I care about. If it means I have to kill a thousand people to keep you safe, then I'd do it."

"I don't understand." Your voice was almost a mumble.

"I agreed to do this before I met you but when I did, it all changed. I-I tried to convince them to stop. I wanted to try and be good—for you but she found out and threatened to kill you if I didn't continue with the plan so I did with the exception that they would leave you out of it," he explained softly. "I did this…for you."

You looked at him like he was insane (he kind of was). "You'd kill our friends?"

"If it meant that you'd be safe."

His words didn't completely register but when they did, you couldn't help but feel guilty. You had a crush on him for so long and here he was, basically confessing his love for you in such a fucked up way. You hated yourself for finding him even more attractive after hearing him say those words.

"Ethan…" you whispered his name.

"Can I kiss you?" he asked. "Can I please kiss you?"

You didn't give him an answer as you closed the space between the two of you.

It seemed wrong—no, it was wrong. Kissing him while he still wore the Ghostface robe, one that he wore while taking someone's life.

You knew he wasn't wearing this costume for fun. They only ever wore it for a purpose. Even though your mind was totally blanked because of how dumb his lips made you, when you pulled apart, you began to think about where he had come from and who he had just killed and why you weren't more concerned about the matter.

He chased after your lips, kissing you again with more force this time, even pulling you closer by the waist. You only pulled away because you were receiving a call.

You pulled your phone out from your pocket, the reality setting in when you saw Sam's contact. He looked down with you, not doing much in keeping you from answering. It took you a couple more seconds of contemplating until you decided to click the green button, putting the phone to your ear.

You took a deep breath before answering. "Hello?"

"Y/N, what the hell?!" Sam hollered into the speaker, her voice mixed with relief and annoyance. "Why weren't you answering? Are you okay?!"

"Yeah, I'm fine," you replied rather nonchalantly. "I had my phone off. What's wrong, Sam?"

There was a short beat. "Ghostface attacked us."

You furrowed your brows, glancing at Ethan. "What?"

"Yeah, he killed Quinn and…"

"And?" you repeated instantly. "Who else, Sam?"

"Anika…" Sam's voice was barely above a whisper. "Y/N, I'm so sorry. I-I tried to help her."

You shut your eyes, feeling tears starting to build. There was silence on the line and you were sure it was because Sam didn't want to say anything knowing you would be taking her death as personal as Mindy did.

Suddenly, your stab wounds began to throb which made you let out a grunt. You knew better than to cry over Anika only because it would achieve nothing. Yes, it was messed up that you were now standing in the room with her murderer, watching him undress himself of his black robe that he wore while killing her but you realized nothing you could've said or done—whether you got to him before she died—could've changed her outcome.

You watched him pull out a hunting knife from his back pocket, the silver glistening with dried blood. That blood probably belonged to Anika and Quinn. It made your throat go dry.

"Sam," you blurted quietly.

"What, Y/N?"

You were going to say it; tell her the truth. It was the right thing to do. Ethan, even if you liked him a lot, had just murdered your best friend and one of Sam's. They deserved the justice of their murderer being caught.

But when he walked back over to you, his eyes scanning your expression, you had already picked your choice.

"Y/N, what? Are you okay?" Sam's voice echoed in your mind.

"Yeah, yeah, it's just…" You tried to find the words. "Is everyone else okay? Did you get hurt?"

"We're fine. Mindy got cut but she's fine," Sam answered softly. "Can you come down here? I'd feel a lot better if you were here with us. Plus, I'm sure you can comfort Mindy than the rest of us. She doesn't want to be anywhere near Tara or Chad."

You let out a shaky breath. "Yeah. Ethan and I are on our way."

"Ethan?" she questioned.

"Yeah. Remember I told you I was going to meet him at his dorm? I was with him the whole night," you lied.

"Oh, okay." Sam sighed into the speaker. "That's good to hear, actually. Mindy thinks Ethan was the one behind all of this but if you were with him then it checks him out."

"Don't worry, Sam," you said. "We'll be there shortly."

"Okay, see you soon. Be safe."

You nodded, even though she couldn't see you and then hung up.

"You kept my secret?" Ethan asked.

You shook your head. "I shouldn't have. You killed Anika and Quinn."

He bit his lip, nodding calmly. "I know, I know. It wasn't exactly my first choice. But I had to for saving you the other night."

"Yeah, I know," you mumbled. "But did you mean it?"

"Mean what?" He furrowed his brows.

"What you said about wanting to be good?" You repeated his words. "Because that's the only reason I saved your ass. I should hate you. You killed Anika."

"Y/N/N," he said softly, walking over to grab your hands. "I only did this to protect you. They made me think my original motive was right but it's actually fucked up. I realized that the moment I met you. So, yes, I do mean it. And I'm sorry about Anika. I didn't really want to do it either."

You mulled over his words, looking down at your connected hands until you finally spoke. "Okay. Then, I'll help you," you informed him. "But, in order for me to do that, I need to know everything."

Let's just say it was an interesting conversation.

[norrizzandpia]

London Boy (LN4)

Summary: In which she falls in love with a London boy as an American girl

Warnings: mentions of family trauma, but it’s really light, FLUFFFFFFFFFFF

Note: I promise I will stop doing song imagines. I already have a regular imagine in the works, THIS ONE WAS JUST TOO GOOD TO PASS UP 🙏🏻🙏🏻

Word Count: 4,377

I love my hometown as much as Motown, I love SoCal and you know I love Springsteen, faded blue jeans, Tennessee Whiskey, but something happened. I heard him laughing. I saw the dimples first and then I heard the accent.

When Y/n had been invited to the British Grand Prix, she was as excited as she could be. She wasn’t really educated when it came to F1, seeing as she had only heard of it twice in all her life. Nonetheless, it was a girls trip with her best friends, Paige and Lily, so she was eager to go anyway.

However, as she stood in the middle of the Paddock with coffee down her shirt and jeans, her views on the sport turned sour. The moment had transpired in seconds as she hurriedly walked down the street with her friends to get to their suite. She had heard a group of men laughing, one of the laughs standing out as more of a cackle, before her shoulder was crashing into another’s and hot liquid was seeping into her clothes.

“Shit!” The clothes clung to her, burning her body completely. Her eyes snapped up to be met with the chin of a man wearing orange, her gaze moving up to be met with dimples that were disappearing rapidly.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” His British accent bled into his voice as he frantically gave her a once over, assessing for damage.

She would have been more mad if she hadn’t found him so attractive. His tan skin and muscular body only lessened the fuel in her fire as she listened to his charming british accent.

“I can pay for the clothes.” He said once more, sounding as if he was trying to grab her attention.

Her eyes met his, “Um, no, it’s okay.” She pulled at the clothes, shifting uncomfortably under the still scalding temperature.

“Here, my teammate’s girlfriend probably has something you can change into. I can take you to her if that works?” He asked timidly, gesturing around like she was near.

Y/n tilted her head, “Your teammate?”

She really had no knowledge of the sport. She assumed each brand had one driver because, in her mind, why would they need more?

The man chuckled as her American accent dawned on him and he realized she had no clue who he was, “Yeah, you can bring your friends if you want?” He tried once more, looking behind her.

The girl glanced over her shoulder, her friends’ mouths gaping open as they quickly nodded their heads for them to go with him, “Okay, that works.”

—

Lily held up a pair of blue jeans and a black bodycon shirt with a smile, “Try these on?”

Y/n smiled timidly, her friends were seemingly freaking out over the people in the room, but she didn’t understand why, “Thank you.”

Thankfully, the clothes fit her well, hugging her waist and doing wonders for the curves of her body. Stepping out of the bathroom and back into the room, she found Paige, Lily, and Teammate’s Lily as well as the man she had come to know, Lando.

“Better?” He asked as he walked up to her with an apologetic smile.

She returned it, “Yeah, a lot.”

They continued looking at each other for a few moments before Paige was clearing her throat and the two were separating. As the three girls grouped together, moving out of the room and toward the exit, Lando’s loud voice flooded their ear drums.

“Y/n! Wait!” His accent yelled as he ran over to them. Catching his breath with his phone in hand, he looked at Y/n with a toothy grin, “Let me take you out to dinner as an apology?”

The two girls beside her gasped as she nodded and put her number in his phone.

–

They say home is where the heart is, but that’s not where mine lives. Ya know I love a London boy, I enjoy walking Camden Market in the afternoon. He likes my American smile, like a child when our eyes meet, darling, I fancy you.

If you had told the y/h/c haired girl that day on the Paddock that the man who had spilled caffeine on her was successful and talented Lando Norris, driver for Mclaren, she would have laughed in your face. After multiple dates together and Lando feeling guilty at her still clueless self, he informed her of his rather rare occupation. She had been taken aback, not seeing him as some famous celebrity who had girls falling at his feet. He was so down to Earth and nice, even when she knew, she didn’t believe it.

It was around 5 months into the relationship when he asked her to come visit him on his vacation to London, telling her he wanted to show her around his hometown. Over the phone, she had asked him if this was his way of asking her to meet his family and she could hear the shy smile in his voice as he said, “What would you say if I said ‘yes’?”

With a smile on her face, she had excitedly told him to tell her when and she’d be there. Bags in hand at 4 AM, she had said goodbye to her best friends and assured them she would call every night over the next 2 weeks to fill them in on her “whirlwind romance with a celeb”. Their words, not hers.

To say she was giddy when her eyes met him from across Heathrow was an understatement. The way his glasses, baseball cap, and face mask failed to hide his smiling face and ecstatic demeanor warmed her heart. Instead of running over to him like she knew the both of them wanted, she walked cooly in his direction, not wanting to draw any attention to him and the relationship they were trying to keep under wraps. Upon reaching him, his arms wrapped around her middle, his face burying in her neck and inhaling the scent he had missed so much, as the two whispered words of longing and love in the other’s ear.

When he pulled back and his eyes landed on her smile, he tilted his head and gazed at the feature on her face he had grown to adore so much.

“Lando,” She giggled as her eyes clocked the way he lingered on her beam. His name on her lips forced him to move his eyes up, meeting hers and sparkling as they took the quiet moment for themselves.

Shining with adoration and yearning, his eyes said way more than he let on, “I missed you, my love.”

—

Took me back to Highgate, met all of his best mates, so I guess all the rumors are true. Ya know I love a London boy, boy, I fancy you.

“What if they don’t like me? Don’t Europeans, like, hate Americans?” Y/n asked as she clutched onto Lando’s arm, sticking to his side as they grew closer to the restaurant.

He laughed from beside her, but quieted down when he saw the genuine concern on her face. Stopping and taking her face in his hands, he pecked her lips, “Baby, they will love you. Trust me. Just because you’re American doesn’t mean they’ll think you’re annoying before they even meet you.”

Sighing and shrugging off his hold in frustration, she began walking toward their destination, “Do you guys really think people from America are annoying?”

He jogged to catch up with her before taking her hand in his and kissing the knuckles of it, “A lot of them are not as pleasant as you.”

Stepping into the pub, Y/n inched closer to his side, suddenly being hit with double her original amount of nerves. Thankfully, Lando’s arm slid around her shoulders as he steered her toward the back of the establishment. A booth filled with whispering 20-something adults came into view before Lando was pulling her to stand in front of everyone, on full display, something he liked and she didn’t.

“Guys, this is Y/n, my girlfriend.” He smiled as his voice grabbed the attention of what Y/n could only determine were his best friends.

A chorus of “Nice to meet you!” and “We’ve heard so much about you” graced the couple’s ears. Lando ushered for her to scooch into the empty seats saved just for them.

Once settled, the questions began.

Max was the first to jump in, wanting to get to know the girl his best friend hadn’t shut up about for the past few months, “So, are you in uni?”

Her face scrunched up in confusion, “Uni?”

Lando chuckled from beside her and in his best American accent said, “College, baby.”

She laughed at her own stupidity, “Oh, yeah. I forgot you guys call it uni.”

Max shook his head with a smile, “No problem.”

“But, anyway, yes, I am in college.” She smiled and nodded as Lando’s friends hung onto her every word, something he was sure would happen.

“Oh, cool, what are you studying?” Ria entered the conversation, leaning over the table to greet the, now, only other girl in the group.

“Psychology. I want to become a therapist.” Y/n’s face lit up at the mention of her passion and Lando gazed upon her like she had just told him he would be World Champion next year.

The table’s eyes bulged, “Don’t you have to go through a lot of schooling for that?” Maz inquired.

“Yeah! But, it’s okay. I’ve always liked learning.” She smiled back.

Max’s jaw dropped as he laughed and let out a breath, “How are you putting up with his stupid ass then?”

The group, including Y/n and Lando, threw their heads back in laughter as Lando tried to act annoyed, “Mate, don’t scare her away just yet.”

She put her hand on his bicep and rubbed softly, “Lan, if I was scared, I would have been gone already.”

He kissed her cheek quickly with blushing cheeks as Ria, Aarav, and Niran observed a lovesick Lando. Leaning over Aarav spoke to both Ria and Niran, “Why does he look happy?”

Niran giggled as Ria rolled her eyes, “Because he’s in love, dumbass.”

From across the table, Y/n tried to partake in a conversation between Lando, Max, and Steve, but the moment Ria’s comment met Y/n’s ears, she was done for.

Looking at the man who was crowding her space to hear his friends better, she wondered if he did, in fact, love her the way she loved him.

—

Show me a gray sky, a rainy cab ride, “Babes, don’t threaten me with a good time”. They say home is where the heart is, but God, I love the English.

Throwing themselves into the cab, Lando and Y/n breathed out a sigh of relief. Glancing out the window and being met with the aggressive downpour that was overwhelming London, Y/n listened to her boyfriend rattle off his address to the driver.

Sitting back, he let his head fall on the seat behind him as it lulled to the side, capturing his girlfriend’s unexplainable beauty.

He smiled before tugging on her hand, making her turn her attention away from the water droplets and to the man who was as soaked, if not more, then she was, “How long do you think it will take us to get back?”

He glanced outside, “The traffic’s really bad…” He trailed off as he wondered, “Probably around 20 minutes?”

“Mmm,” She leaned into his side, not at all caring for the way his drenched clothes stuck to her own.

His head fell on top of hers as they breathed together for a moment. His mind wandered to that morning and how he had been woken up by Max calling him.

–

Lando had shut off the ringer the second it blared loudly and thankfully, he hadn’t disturbed your sleeping form as he got out of the warm, soft cocoon to answer.

“Hello? Why are you calling me so early?” His groggy voice greeted his best friend on the other end of the line as he shut the door to the bedroom and walked out to the kitchen.

Max laughed, “Mate! It’s literally 12 PM. What were you up to last night?” His suggestive tone had Lando’s mind flashing back to the rather intimate activities that had taken place hours before.

“None of your business,” He bit out, “What do you need?”

“No need to get so hostile on me.” Max said innocently, “Just wanted to ask you if you’ve told Y/n you love her yet?”

Lando choked out a breath before clearing his throat, “I’m sorry- what?”

“Have you guys said that yet?” Max repeated, not understanding why his friend sounded so confused.

While he wanted to deny his love for her, Lando knew he couldn’t, he never could, “No.”

“Well, you should tell her.” Max stated firmly.

Lando’s voice fell quiet, “But, what if she isn’t there yet?”

Max loudly laughed, “Oh, man! It’s crazy how you bagged someone intelligent.” Lando cringed as Max continued, “She clearly feels the same way.”

Lando’s heart soared, “You think?”

HIs best friend sighed, “Yes, I do. So does Ria, and Niran, and Steve, and Aarav. It’s really obvious, dude.”

Lando’s smile hurt, “Oh, I didn’t know that.”

Max chuckled, “I know. That’s why I called you.”

—

His brain thought over the possibility of telling her about his growing feelings as he felt her weight against his side in the back of the dirty cab. It was almost as if she heard his thoughts as she moved her head off his shoulder to stare up at him, silently begging him to say it.

Whether it was in his head or not, he fulfilled the wish he was convinced she was pleading with him to make reality, “I love you.” He whispered.

Their faces inches apart, Lando watched as Y/n’s face gleamed and her smile grew, “I love you too.”

He breathed out a sigh of relief when she moved to kiss him. His hands in her hair and no regard for the driver in front of them, he kissed her like he was crazily, stupidly, and wholly in love with her.

Because he was.

—

Just wanna be with you, wanna be with you, wanna be with you. You know I love a London boy, I enjoy walking’ SoHo, drinking in the afternoon. He likes my American smile, like a child when our eyes meet, darling, I fancy you. Took me back to Highgate, met all of his best mates, so I guess all the rumors are true.

“Darling, are you ready?” Lando’s voice flooded through his apartment.

As he rounded the corner of the hallway, she was popping out of the bedroom clad in jeans and a sweater, prepared for the crisp and cold London air. Catching his gaze, she jokingly twirled around as she muttered, “This good to meet your family?”

Closing the space between them and wrapping his arms around her waist, he kissed her forehead, “Perfect. You look perfect, baby.”

With crimson red cheeks, the two of them left his building and made their way to his parent’s house minutes away.

“For some reason, I’m not as nervous to meet them as I was to meet your friends.” Her eyebrows contorted as they walked down the sidewalk.

“Maybe that’s because I’m their son and you love me. Ya know, the whole ‘Apple doesn’t fall far from the tre-’” He was interrupted by two giggling girls stopping to stand directly in front of them.

One of them gently shoved her phone in between them, “Can we take a picture?”

Y/n watched as Lando’s eyes softened before he was grabbing her phone and lightly turning her way to ask her to take it. Shaking her head with a smile, she grabbed it and positioned them in the frame, “Okay, 1…2…3,” She mumbled before taking multiple and handing it back to the girls that couldn’t be over 16, “I took a couple.”

Nodding, the other one’s eyes drifted between Lando and Y/n before cocking her head to the side.

“Wait, were those dating rumors true? Is this your girlfriend?” Her eyes grew wide in realization as Lando blushed and pulled Y/n into him.

Glancing down at her y/e/c eyes, he nodded, “Yeah, this is her.”

Gasping, the fans excitedly told the two how pretty they thought Y/n was before thanking each of them and running off.

Resuming their steps, Y/n giggled, “They had a crush on you. It was so cute.”

He laughed from beside her before kissing her temple, “Maybe, but I have a crush on you.”

—

“Okay, I take it back. I’m going to throw up.” Y/n’s face paled as Lando’s fist rapped against the wooden door.

“You said the same thing with my friends, baby, and they loved you. I’m telling you it will be the same with my family.” He tried to calm and reassure.

Thankfully, there was no room for disagreeing because his mom was opening the door and smiling widely at her son and his infamous new girlfriend.

“Lando!” She exclaimed before throwing her arms around her child.

“Hi, mum,” He laughed as he squeezed her tightly. Moving away and turning her head, Cisca beamed.

“Oh, you are so gorgeous! Tell me my son is treating you right?” She laughed before sending Y/n the sweetest smile the girl had ever received.

“Oh, he is, Mrs. Norris. Don’t worry.” Y/n assured as the woman pulled her into a hug as well.

“It’s Cisca to you.” Y/n could hear the warming smile in her voice before she was being led inside.

Walking into the house, Y/n’s noticed the immediate warmth that surrounded every furniture piece and person. It was a bit of a shocker and adjustment when she found out just how close Lando was to his family. Growing up, she hadn’t had that with her family as her parents didn’t have a good relationship and were constantly fighting while her siblings tried to calm both adults. It was traumatic, to put it simply, and after Lando had picked up on her confusion when he said he was going to meet his mom for lunch earlier in their relationship, he made a mental note to ask her about it later. When he did, she had had no choice, but to tell him her childhood, or lack thereof. He was quite surprised when he found out his bubbly, sweet girlfriend had come from such a toxic, violent household, but he didn’t voice that as he comforted her and apologized for something that wasn’t even his fault. Long story short, even though she had come to understand his relationship with his family, it was still a bit weird to her how much love there was to go around.

Coming up beside her, Lando’s hand rested on the bottom of her back as he whispered in her ear, “How are you doing?”

He could only assume how saddening this could be for her after countless words spoken with her over how angry she had been as a teenager at her parents for not providing with some sort of normal home life.

However, she just smiled up at him, laying a kiss on his cheek before whispering back, “I’ll be okay.”

He nodded and before he could lean in to meet her lips with his, Flo was appearing before them.

She beamed at the couple, “Hi! You must be Y/n. I’m Flo, Lando’s sister. He talks about you all the time.”

Her comforting tone gave Y/n the confidence to respond with, “Oh? I hope all good things?”

Lando chuckled as his hand squeezed her hip as his sister exposed him completely, “Oh, very good things. I’m serious, he actually never shuts up about you. I would be annoyed with him if he wasn’t so clearly happy.”

Y/n sent a smile to Lando’s sister before turning her head to gaze up at her boyfriend, realizing how much of a home she had found within him.

Soon enough, the rest of Lando’s siblings joined their sister, conversing with his American girlfriend like they had known her their whole life.

“So, you’re studying psychology to become a therapist, I hear?” Oliver inquired as Lando began to nod his head, a proud boyfriend.

She nodded along with him, “Yes, I’m graduating college this year and then I’ll move onto grad school to get my masters.”

Flo’s eyes widened, “Wow, do you know where you’re going?”

Lando blurted it out before Y/n could, he just couldn’t help how much he wanted to brag about her intelligence, “She’s going to Yale!”

All three siblings’ jaws fell open as Y/n laughed at her boyfriend’s eagerness, “Yale. I’m going to Yale. Thanks, babe.”

He smiled sheepishly down at her as he muttered a sorry to which she shook her head, not mad at all.

The conversation took off from there, continuing on while all of them sat at the dinner table, only then did the parents join in. Everyone was enthralled by Y/n, captured by her charm and smile, falling victim to all the same things Lando had. He wanted to take a picture, at that moment, as he gazed upon the girl who was very quickly earning the title of “Love of my Life” and how she clicked perfectly with everyone else he loved immensely.

As the night went on, leading into the darkness of midnight, Lando found himself in his old backyard, alone, as he watched Y/n in a very committed conversation with his sisters about Taylor Swift.

He wasn’t aware how long Oliver had sat next to him, only being aware of his presence when his brother said, “I think she’s it.”

Shaking his head, he frowned at his brother, “What?”

Oliver smiled down at his younger brother, remembering his own lovestruck days, “I think she’s it. I think you’ve found the one, Lando.”

To say he was blushing would have been an understatement, Lando was blood red in the cheeks, the neck, the ears, everywhere. His smile spoke volumes to his brother as he took a moment before responding, “I think so too.”

“How’d you two meet again?” Oliver had heard the story once, on the day it happened, but never again after that.

Once again, Lando’s smile hurt, “We met on the paddock at Silverstone. She was with her friends and we were both distracted, so we ran into each other and I literally spilled my coffee down her entire front. Thankfully, she was really sweet about it which didn’t help the fact that I was already in love with her. But, anyways, I remember I got to look at her first. She was looking down at her clothes while I was just staring at her. I seriously think I have never been that gobsmacked by someone’s beauty before. I almost couldn’t speak when she actually made eye contact with me. I offered to pay for her clothes, but then I realized that that would mean I wouldn’t have a chance to talk to her again, so I told her Lily would have something extra. I actually had no clue if Lily had extra clothes, I really didn’t expect her to because who the hell brings extra clothes to an event? But, I knew it would give me at least 20 more minutes with her, so I ran with it. Fortunately, Lily did have extra clothes, something I was incredibly confused by, and when Y/n was finished changing, she walked out without my number. I had been so nervous to ask her, but Lily yelled at me the second the door closed to get off my ass and go get a date with her, so I did. Thank God, I did, man.”

Oliver hung on to his brother’s every word, observing the twinkle in Lando’s eyes when the three girls across the yard would laugh at something Y/n had said. Even if he had never met Y/n, Oliver was sure he would’ve gotten the memo on how in love Lando was with her just by how highly, how affectionately he talked about her. I mean, it was actually partially true. Going into the dinner, everyone in the family was aware of how love drunk Lando was with this girl he had been dating. From the moment he had called them, detailing how he had just met this girl who had absolutely stolen his attention, the family had made bets on the fact this relationship would last a lifetime.

Even now, as he watched Lando wander over to his girlfriend like a lost puppy, Oliver was sure it would.

—

Just wanna be with you, wanna be with you. I fancy you, fancy you, oh.

“Baby! Guess what 5 years ago today was!” Lando’s voice yelled throughout their flat in Monaco as he wandered aimlessly, trying to find his fiancé.

He found Y/n in the kitchen, looking at him with furrowed eyebrows as her hip rested against the countertop, “What?”

Pulling her into his arms and showing her his phone, he smiled, “You met my parents, love. 5 years ago today.”

She laughed as she looked at the screen, only to find a picture of her, asleep in Lando’s car at time with the caption, ‘slumped after meeting the fam’

“God, that’s a really horrendous picture of me.” She replied as Lando immediately tugged on the hem of her shirt with a scowl, “What? No, it’s not! You always look so cute when you’re asleep.”

She over exaggerated a nod before he pinched her side, her yelping in response.

“Isn’t it good I think you’re cute when you’re asleep?” He smiled cheekily, “I mean, we are getting married,” His fingers toyed with the ring on her finger, “so, I’ll be waking up to you like that every day for the rest of our lives.”

She smiled as he kissed her, breathing her in, “When you put it that way, it’s not too bad.”

[thefirstlioveyou]

how the van scene confirms mike's feelings - the framework & editing

i noticed something while editing a compilation of mike staring at will lovingly (because bless finn's amazing acting) and suddenly found myself analysing the editing choices/shots from the van scene (will’s monologue).

i found this scene doesn't only confirm will's feelings for mike, but mike's too.

what exactly makes this scene confirmation of mike's feelings besides the brilliant acting? it's the perfect cinematography and editing. ST's cinematography has been one of its greatest strength's, in my opinion at least. they know how to move the camera perfectly to tell us exactly what a character's thinking. the editing is also perfect.

**for this post, i won't be bringing up the lighting work or acting (at least not much) because it's something that's already acknowledged a lot.**

in the van scene, we are only able to really realize mike's feelings because of its choice of shots - specifically two subtle shots.

first shot:

every shot of mike during the speech had will still in the corner. unfocused, but still there. (minus the rear mirror and window shots)

except for one...

the editing work is one of the main keys to what makes this scene so intimate besides the great acting. the way it goes back and forth between close ups is meant to display tension/intimacy. they keep swinging between the both, almost telling the audience to pay close attention. there's something happening that isn't being said. the editing choice inflicts a feeling that rest of the world is gone - it's just them. (which is often what you typically feel when there's raging chemistry between you and someone else)

then they throw this one shot in, which subtly parts mike away with this conversation. he is distracted by something else..

the fact this one stands out different from the rest is important. will could still be seen in the other shots while showing mike is focusing deeply on what will is saying. then suddenly, just for one shot, will isn't there anymore. it's just mike, nervous and breathless. this is telling us that mike is no longer paying as much attention to what will's saying, but more on what he himself is thinking.

despite this being such a minor thing that is easy to dismiss, it changes a lot if you would've just framed it like the rest. not only would it get repetitive, but there would be nothing to take from the scene [visually] other than the fact mike is focusing on what will's saying… and sure, enjoys looking at his lips a lot. but, when you really think about it, the inclusion of this shot is what actually confirms finn's acting is intentionally romantic. the editors wanted to give the audience this one specifically framed shot of mike to draw your attention from what will's saying, to start wondering what mike is thinking.

and if you haven't already caught onto all the lip staring and quick glances, he’s thinking about will.

second shot:

there's one other shot that confirms it, too - the shot with jonathan and the rear mirror. this happens twice.

referencing back to what i said earlier about how chemistry between you and another can feel like the world shuts out and it's only you two, despite that being how it feels, it’s the exact opposite - everyone notices it. people around you can also see that chemistry. though.. it's only noticeable when it's truly real.

this is the point of the rear window/jonathan shot.

jonathan is noticing a shift in their relationship. he notices not only will's feelings, but mike's too. will is turned away, mike is looking at will - something will can't see. will story-wise believes his love is unrequited... when it's clearly not to the audience (or jonathan in this case).

this rear window shot is included to confirm to the audience that it is exactly what we're thinking - there is something romantic going on, there is electricity. so much so that other characters are catching on themselves. it isn't just a pretty shot. if it were, jonathan wouldn't have been included, and it wouldn’t be there two different times. filmmaking is precise, never forget that.

-

filmmaking (cinematography in this case) is so powerful and complex. any slight adjustment in editing or choice of framing can change the story you are trying to tell.

so all in all, byler endgame

[munsonbrackets]

Astarion x undying male reader

Just imagine Astarion having to lure back someone who can’t die for Cazador. 

Like Cazador didn’t tell him anyone specific, just someone pretty, which you are. Undeniably.

So he lures you over from across the bar, gets to talking, does the chatting he usually does. And you are so nice to him, but he refuses to be locked in another coffin for 200 years for not doing what Cazador said, so he lures you to Cazador.

But just a small problem with you being lured to Cazador to be turned into a spawn. You are a random dude who just cannot die. Not in the “nothing can kill me, i'm unkillable and immortal!” kind of way. No. That would be too simple. You cannot die in the “bone snapping, skull shattering, viscera brought to life once more.” kind of way.

So when Cazador attempts to turn you, you just kinda wake up again. With all of your blood still in you and a REALLY pissed off true vampire looking at you. And Cazador tries, tries again, tries 100 more times and he just cannot turn you. 

And you really can’t be bothered to stay for another 100 trials, so you just leave, first chance you get. All of the spawn think you’re one of them, Cazador being too embarrassed to tell the truth. That he was too weak to turn you.

You leave Baldur’s gate, no need to have a pissed off old vampire coming after you. Especially not when all of his plates are silver, the dude has got money.

And a while later, when you get kidnapped and forced onto the nautiloid. You were scared for the first time in a long time. You had never had an illithid parasite put into your skull. The nautiloid then came crashing down and you were half expecting to just vomit it up. The other half of you wondering whether or not your affliction with death would prevent you from becoming a mind flayer. You always heard that mindflayers very much lacked in the soul category, maybe that’s why you could never stay dead?

But you decide to go at it, you’ve been gone from Baldur’s gate for a few 100 years, maybe someone there could help. On the way you find many companions, Gale of waterdeep, Lae’zel the githyanki, Shadowheart and the rest of your astounding group.

But most importantly, Astarion. Astarion the vampire spawn. Which the group found out about fast enough, specifically when he tried to bite you. You just could not tell whether or not he knew you. Recognized you.

That is until you and him sit alone, watching the stars. 

“You remind me an awful lot about someone I used to know.” Astarion practically whispered it out, seemingly unable to make up his mind whether or not he was gonna let the words out.

“Do I now? What was he like?” You mutter back, your eyes still fixated on the stars. But you are still so aware of him next to you.

“He was… I can’t completely remember. I met him once, maybe twice.” Astarion pauses and a shuddered breath is forced out of his lungs, he’s tense. Possibly remorseful. “But he was beautiful. He would look at everyone like they were infinite. He did that to people. Made them feel invulnerable.”

You ignored Astarion’s indirect, very direct, compliment.

“What happened to him?”

The words left your lips faster than you could really think about them. You tried easing the tension by laying flat on your back, using your palms as pillows for your head. 

Astarion’s breath almost hitched at your words, but he took a second, seemingly in thought. He was probably considering whether or not he should tell you the truth. You realized you had put him into a curious position, and with the battles ahead, you were inevitably going to see Cazador once more. Cazador would definitely recognize you.

“You handed him over to Cazador, didn’t you?”

You forced the words out this time. Every single part of your very being, screaming at you to be quiet.

Astarion swallowed harshly.

“Yes. I did. I wish I could say I would do anything to bring him back from whatever wretched fate Cazador forced him into. But I can’t. It’s never that simple is it?”

An involuntary chuckle left your throat and you saw Astarion whip his head towards you, his anxiety rising a thousand fold. You quickly sat up, looked at him reassuringly, and then you gently folded his hand between yours.

“I’m certain he forgave you long ago. Especially knowing what you went through, I highly doubt he blames you.”

And in Astarion’s eyes you recognized the same man from all those years ago, the insecure vampire spawn with the twinkle of the entire universe locked in his eyes.

You hoped that you made him feel as invulnerable as the first time you met him.