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#also when i say i don't know what i've done for your words it's true this is really out of the blue
seramilla · 16 hours
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@seramilla
A follow up for the angst you so graciously fed me…
Imagine how Emily would react upon learning the truth about her circumstances?
Imagine how HURT and ANGRY she would be with Sera. Imagine how she would lash out at her sis—no that’s not true anymore…it never was. Sera is her MOTHER and has lied to her this WHOLE time. Did she ever even want a daughter in the first place!? Who is her other parent and where are they!?! What happened to them?!?
It's Emily's own fault, really. Sera had told her over and over to never ask her about it again. But the older Emily gets, the more her curiosity gets the better of her. She's never been the rebellious type -- but Sera's reaction every time she brings up the topic of their parents is so...unpredictable. Sometimes she's angry. Sometimes she closes herself in her office, and won't come out or speak to Emily for the rest of the day.
The reaction is ridiculous. Something is causing her sister to act like this, and one day, that stupid curiosity of hers reaches a point of no return. Sera tells her never to go into her office without permission. But on the day Emily breaks that rule, and confronts Sera about their parents for the last time, she almost wishes that she hadn't.
She defies Sera and walks inside, and even though she can tell Sera has been recently crying, judging by the moisture on both her sister's cheeks, it doesn't stop Emily from demanding an answer one final time.
"Please, Sera!" Emily pleads, smacking her hands down on Sera's desk in defiance. "Please, I need to know. Where do I come from?"
"Get out," Sera says, refusing to meet Emily's gaze, and pointing her finger at the door. "Now."
"No! I'm done with these games, Sera! My entire life, you've held this mystery over my head, and I've had it! Why do you get so sad when I ask this question? Did something happen? Please, tell me what's wrong! I want to know!"
"You don't want to know. Please, don't make me say it."
"Say what? Sera, I can't help you if you don't tell me what's wrong! What's going on?"
"You can't help this!" Sera screams, standing up and throwing her own hands on her desk in defeat. "No one can! There's nothing you can do to bring her back!"
"Bring who back? Sera...bring who back?"
"Carmilla!"
That name is one Emily's only heard of in stories. One of the angels who'd fallen with Lucifer. One of the names most angels are forbidden from ever speaking about, for fear they'd be tossed out of Heaven, too, just for mentioning in. Why would Sera want to bring her back...?"
"Carmilla?" Emily asks. "What about her? Why would you want to bring her back?"
Sera slumps back into her chair. She leans forward on the desk on her elbows, rubbing her face vigorously with both hands, like she's trying to rub something off her skin that hurts. She then tents her fingers in front of her mouth, staring at Emily across from her. With a heavy sigh, she finally speaks again, after several moments of profound silence.
"Because she's your mother."
Sera says it so bluntly, but with so much sadness. And also so calmly, compared to her outburst a moment prior. As if she's finally resigned herself to being honest, for once in Emily's life. Like she's already made peace with all of this, and the repercussions of it, in her own mind.
"Wha-what?" Emily squeaks. "She's my--my mother?"
Sera sighs again. She breathes deeply, and looks at Emily more intently now, as if preparing the smaller angel for what she's about to say next.
"Yes. She is...and so am I."
A million thoughts race through Emily's head at those words. Carmilla -- the fallen angel Carmilla, one of Heaven's most notorious traitors -- is her mother? And what does Sera mean by and so am I? Does that mean she's also Emily's mother? Is that what she's been hiding this entire time? All these years?
Sera and Carmilla...before the fall...before the traitorous Lucifer betrayed all of Heavenkind...Carmilla and Sera had been...lovers?
"What are you saying?" Emily asks. She's the one shaking this time. "That that traitor...that monster...is my...? And you're my...?"
"Don't call her that," Sera says. "She wasn't a monster."
Sera looks so defeated, slumped forward in her chair, and leaning on her desk like thousands of years of secrets have just fallen off her proverbial shoulders. They probably have.
"And yes. That's exactly what I'm telling you. And what I've been trying to protect you from this entire time. But like you said...you're not a child anymore."
"So all this time...all these years...you've been my mother, and you didn't tell me?!" Emily shouts. She's so...confused...scared...angry! So full of emotion, she can't help but raise her voice at Sera. Sera sits there, just taking it. Already feeling defeated and resigning herself to her sister's reaction. "Why? Why, Sera? Why did you lie to me?"
"To protect you."
"Protect me from what?! The fact that you're my mother?! Why wouldn't you tell me about that?! Are you ashamed of me?! Because I'm...I'm that traitor's daughter, too?!"
"No! Don't call her that! Emily, that's not--!"
"What is it, then?!"
"I loved her, all right?!" Sera shouts. She stands once again, towering over Emily like she always has. She looks even bigger now, much bigger than she did when Emily was a child. Emily almost takes a step back. But she realizes this is her fault. She brought out this side of Sera. She's the one making Sera relive all these memories and harsh feelings. So she stands there and takes it, like an adult, and lets Sera speak.
"I loved her!" Sera repeats. "I loved her so much. And I'm the one who feels ashamed. I'd never be ashamed of you. Never you! You're the one good thing that came out of this...this mess! I'm sorry I hid this from you. But I didn't want you to live with...with the knowledge that I'm the one who betrayed her! I betrayed you both. I'm the reason she's gone...I'm sorry, Emily...I'm so sorry!"
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voxofthevoid · 2 days
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Shibuya Swap Wednesday #13! Also the final one.
At over 120k, this fic is now officially my longest JJK story, and I'm two chapters away from finishing it. But I've been too fucking tired to write a word the last week, so who knows when it'll be done. Even if I don't, this will be the last WIPWed post for this story. If I don't have a new fic to post next Wednesday, I'll open another askbox game.
For now, have an entirely SFW interaction featuring Yuuji and his three ducklings (SSS) 🦆🦆🦆
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“You’re distracted today, Satoru.”
“Fuck off,” Satoru says distractedly, swaying back from a swinging fist and leaping away from the leg that swipes at him. “I’m still kicking your ass.”
“You haven’t touched me once. You haven’t tried.”
That’s not true. Of course he’s trying. He wouldn’t pass up an opportunity to recreationally beat up his best friend. And these spars Yuuji favors, where cursed techniques and even cursed energy are banned to strip them down to their base human components, are his favorite these days. They took a while to grow on him, but Satoru understands now. Here, when he wins, it’s not Limitless that earns his victory, just his bare body. There’s a surprising kind of power in that.
And when Suguru wins, well, that’s what rematches are for.
But right now, there’s another bare body darting about in his periphery—a beautiful monstrosity clothed in red.
It’s wasted on Shouko. She’s holding her own, but Yuuji’s holding back. Not her fault. Yuuji’s always holding back. He’d be wasted on anyone, even Suguru.
Not Satoru though.
Another opportunistic fist rushes toward him, and some twinge of instinct draws the entirety of Satoru’s focus back toward Suguru. The burst of motion that follows is very skilled violence, made impotent only by equally skilled evasion. A different kind of fire floods Satoru’s veins at the sheer intensity on Suguru’s face.
“What’s the matter, Suguru?” Satoru purrs. “Feelin’ neglected?”
Suguru grins—more a baring of teeth. “Not at all. I’d just hate to beat you up when your head’s not in the game. There’s no honor in that.”
“I’ll show you honor, you sanctimonious—”
Warmth at his back, pressure on his shoulders.
Suguru’s eyes are very wide.
“Are you two quarreling again?” Yuuji asks, disappointment heavy in his voice.
“Nope,” Satoru says.
“No, sensei,” Suguru echoes a second later. “Just talking. You know how it is.”
“All too well,” Yuuji says drily. “What’s this about Satoru being distracted?”
“How the hell did you hear that?” Satoru asks, craning his neck to try and stare at Yuuji. The next instant, he remembers he’s got a pair of very handy eyes that defy line of sight.
Yuuji’s expression is pretty mild. Half his eyes are clearly fixed on Suguru; the other two somehow seem to be making eye contact with Satoru through the back of his skull and all the fleshy bits in between.
Off to the side, Shouko is doubled over, hands gripping her knees as she pants and drips sweat onto the floor.
“—it, sensei,” Suguru is saying, his expression perfectly pleasant. “Just a little starting trouble.”
Yuuji’s hands tighten on Satoru’s shoulders. “That’s not like you two. If anything, getting you to stop is the issue.”
“Hey,” Satoru protests.
Suguru just chuckles awkwardly.
“Tell you what,” Yuuji says, voice low and considering, “let’s switch. Suguru-kun, pair up with Shouko-chan, please. Satoru, you’re with me.”
Satoru’s heart jumps to his throat, fluttering wildly.
Suguru glances at Shouko, and Satoru follows suit. She flashes them an okay-sign without straightening up.
“Ah,” says Suguru, looking back at Satoru. His face does something interesting—an expression that’s not fully realized. “Alright, sensei. Satoru…good luck.”
Satoru squints at him. “What the hell’s that tone for?”
Suguru’s face twitches again. “Nothing.”
“Oi—”
“Satoru,” Yuuji says warningly, and Satoru stills, slumping back against the broad body still flush with his back. Yuuji’s chest moves against him with a deep breath. “Alright then. Take five minutes, then the next round.”
Yuuji squeezes Satoru’s shoulder one last time and steps away, nodding at Suguru and patting Shouko gently on the back before heading out of the dōjō. He doesn’t go far, Satoru can tell from his cursed energy, but they all know from experience that he won’t return before five minutes are over. Sometimes, he’s kind and gives them an extra minute or two.
“I should’ve known,” Suguru says suddenly.
Satoru blinks at him. “The hell are you jabbering about now?”
Suguru sighs. “Would it kill you to be a little more polite?”
“Might,” Shouko chimes in. “Maybe that’s his secret power.”
“There’s no secret to my power.” Satoru tosses his head, his fringe flying out of his eyes. “I’m Gojou Satoru.”
“We know,” Suguru drawls. “Back to the point—at least try to be subtle about sleeping with our teacher.”
“Why? Both of you know already.”
“We don’t need details,” Suguru says.
Shouko makes a disagreeing noise. “I don’t know… Itadori-sensei has some fascinating biology.”
“Shouko.”
“He does,” Satoru agrees readily. Then he frowns. “Hands off the goods. He’s mine.”
“Satoru.”
Shouko rolls her eyes. “I don’t want him. I’m just curious.”
Satoru unbristles. “Well, that’s fine. Yuuji is fascinating.”
Shouko nods slowly. She’s still breathing a little hard, but it’s clear her focus is inward, probably putting together a mental picture of Yuuji’s “fascinating biology.” Satoru approves on principle, but he doesn’t really want to know the details. Past experience has made it abundantly clear that he and Shouko have very different ideas about what makes a body appealing.
Sure enough, she says, “Those extra arms would put a lot of strain on the torso—on his entire skeleton, really. Have you seen his muscular structure, Gojou? How much can the Six Eyes—”
“Shouko,” Suguru says repressively, “that’s our teacher.”
“So?” she asks, raising an eyebrow.
Suguru pinches the bridge of his nose. “Please just drink some water and cool down. As we all should.”
“Spoilsport,” she mutters but turns around and strides to the far end of the room, where they’ve kept their water bottles and towels.
Satoru and Suguru follow at a more sedate pace.
“You tired already?” Satoru needles, digging an elbow into Suguru’s side. “C’mon, we barely fought.”
“You barely fought,” Suguru points out. “Some of us were actually trying to listen to Itadori-sensei.”
Satoru huffs. “Teacher’s pet.”
Suguru whips his head around to gape at Satoru. “You’re calling me that? You?!”
Satoru considers that for a moment. “True. I don’t want you to be Yuuji’s pet. That’s my job.”
Suguru makes a strangled noise. Satoru bounces forward, swiping a bottle off the floor and tossing it to Suguru, who twists open the cap and takes a desperate swig before Satoru can even make a quip. Shouko has migrated to one of the windows and is tapping on her phone, humming softly to herself.
Satoru shrugs and grabs another bottle, leaning against the wall while taking small sips, a moment later, Suguru joins him. He is sweating a little, and Satoru watches as he unbuttons an extra button and flaps the side of the shirt, like he’s coaxing some air in.
“Hey, Suguru?”
Suguru gives him the side-eye. “What?”
“Wanna know what those extra muscles really feel—”
A towel cuts him off, pressed firmly against his face, and Satoru cackles against the fluffy fabric as Suguru tries his best to smother him with it.
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Hi! How are you?
I hope to don't bother you with my question and I just want to write you that you are an amazing human being and you deserve everything good in this world!
hello anon i don't know who you are or what i've done to deserve your words but thank you so so much jo 🥺🥺🥺🥺
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a-b-riddle · 1 month
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Part Five
Can't stop thinking about the attempt of reconciliation and reader ain't having it. Our girl is going to be wilddddd y'all. Also goodnight. See y'all tomorrow (maybe)
You call Meredith when you get home.
You. Are. Fuming. She's not sure she can ever remember a time you using so many swear words at one time.
How fucking dare them? Immature? You're the immature one? You were the one trying your best to salvage four failing relationship meanwhile none of those assholes could be bothered to try and keep one. They had one person to manage: you.
"I wanna go out this weekend." "Wear something tight and borderline risk indecent exposure."
"You know what I always say," Meredith begins. "The best way to get over someone-"
"is to get under someone else." You finish. You weren't exactly keen on the idea of bringing someone to your bed just yet, but a little attention would do you some good. "I don't want to fuck someone just yet." You admitted. "I'm more on the getting drunk and making out."
"I didn't know we resorted back secondary school heavy petting?" She teased.
"University, Dear." You corrected. "I didn't peak until after I graduated."
"No." She argued. "You didn't put your books down long enough to realize that boys actually wanted to fuck you." You were glad she couldn't see you roll your eyes. "Saturday work for you? I have a late night Friday and won't be up for it."
"That works."
"Sorry." She apologized. "I plan on getting you absolutely smashed so I need to be ready to play the nanny. I know how you love to get drunk and run off."
It was true. You had always found it hilarious when you were drunk to just run. Quite literally run away. It got to a point during university where Meredith would handcuff you to her so you didn't stray.
"I won't run." Your sober mind promised.
"Uh huh." Meredith's tone told you that she knew that was a load of shit. "I'll text Tabs. Let her know the plan."
The next day at the shop was pretty uneventful. No more unexpected visitors. You still had them all blocked. Not caring if now they decided to offer up some bullshit apology.
Months. This had been a steady decline for six months. A text or a simply sorry won't fix this. You weren't sure anything could.
But it didn't matter. You were done and they obviously were too.
You had picked up enough take out to feed a family, but you didn't plan on making your lunch before work or cooking when you got home. The rest of the week you planned on just going through the motions until you could go out Saturday and hopefully get everything out.
You weren't paying attention as you walked down the hallway to your flat. Fishing in your purse for keys. You were at almost at your door when you saw him.
Sitting next to your door was a familiar face. A face you felt you haven't seen in forever.
“What are you doing here, Kyle?" Your voice was flat as you continued to blindly try and find your keys with one hand. Fuck. You really need to clean out your purse...
“My key wouldn’t work.” He explained. "So I’m out here.”
"I'm aware why you're not in my apartment since I changed the locks," you said, trying to keep your irritation at bay. "What I am asking is why did you come here?"
"You won't return any of our messages."
"You're all blocked, so technically I didn't really get any messages." "Besides, you don't get to complain to me about not responding to texts, Kyle Garrick." Your fingers finally wraps around them. God bless. "If you're here for your things, it'll have to wait. I have to sort through everyone's shit and I don't know whose is whose."
"We need to talk." He explains as you put the key into the lock, opening the door.
"Nah," you say scrunching your nose in that way he used to adore. "I'm good. But you can swing by tomorrow and pick up your things if you'd like." You say before trying to shut the door on him. You were stupid in thinking you could be faster than him.
Dammit.
"I know things haven't been good and I've definitely could have been better,'' he admits. "But can you at least try and let us apologize? Let us try and work it out."
"No." You answered, trying to close the door. Not caring if you had to resort to kicking his shins to get him out.
"Why not?" He countered.
“Maybe because I've already tried, Kyle?” You gave up on trying to shut him out. You were strong, but he didn't have any issues in besting you. “Because I actually tried with you. With all of you. You didn’t need to come here giving me excuses about your life being hectic because I’ve made the excuses for you.” You didn't miss how he practically flinched. He had always blamed his busy life. Family. Work. You stopped caring about whatever excuse he gave you and realized it was just that. An excuse. “I’ve been telling myself for months that everything you guys didn’t do for me wasn’t because you didn’t care about me. It was because of the stress of your deployments is the reason none of you tell me when you get back from until it’s time to fuck. I tell myself it’s because of the fucked up situation of me being with all of you that makes it awkward to meet your families. Families you all have that I now know I’m not worthy of meeting.” He wanted to correct you. You were. You were worthy. He was an idiot. “It’s not that I need your excuses to make me feel like what you did was justified. No matter what it was, it was apparently to you because you did it.”
He took a step back, processing everything you had said. He had been selfish. You were the reliable constant in his life. Someone he believed he never disappointed. Someone he couldn't disappoint no matter how many times he fucked up.
You took the opportunity to slam the door. Quickly turning the lock before he had a chance to open it back up.
God...
That felt good.
You had spent that evening collecting their thing in case Kyle did show back up tomorrow. You wouldn't make their lives easier by sorting all their shit and organizing it. Everything. One box. Let them figure it out. You almost had a mind to add a shirt that you knew didn't belong to any of them just to have them argue over it. Or least make them think there was someone else...
You were almost tempted if not for the premise that you wanted them to realize this was their fault. Their fuck up. But now that you were officially all broken up, you were free game.
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frankieunscripted · 1 month
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My reasons to hate Drake
First things first, I'm the reales- wait, wrong theme. First of all, I would like to say this is NOT an unbiased recap, this is literally just me listing things I've hated about Drake for years. You might as well join in on the hate train. Go watch some YouTube video essays on this if you wanna know more!!! You'll find plentyyyy
Certified Pedophile ("allegedly"): Texting teen girls until they're of age and then go and date them. ew.
Cosplay Gangsta: disrespecting the culture as a whole, but especially what hiphop is about. Flexing money, cars, girls, drugs, clothes bc he never understood hiphop was never about flexing, but about being heard bc you're oppressed, about revolution. Now we got his die-hard fans running around acting like this is true rap. no. "You don't know nun bout dat!"
Culture Vulture: jumping from trend to trend in order to make it "his own", faking accents that he has no business playing with and dropping them as soon as he's done with this specific type of genre bc it's not trendy anymore. Adapting whole "personas" around this, instead of just merely collabing with other artists. Jamaican and African accents are just 2 examples here.
Blackness: Drake never really got out of his acting career. Back on DeGrassi he was acting as a high school jock. Now he's acting like a tough black guy who's from the streets and knows what it's like to be down bad, when this was never his life. Lil Wayne warned him to never change and act tough just bc he would sign to Weezy's label where the rappers were predominantly "gangsta type dudes". And what did Drizzy do? He's acting all tough and "outta dem streets". He's clearly overcompensating for not feeling black enough (I've already reblogged 2 posts about this, pls see these for further context). Drake's mad for not being referred to as a rapper who speaks on being black, when in reality the black experience was never of topic in any of his songs. He also doesn't give back to the community.
Lil Wayne: Drake had relations with fellow rapper Lil Wayne's gf (she actually was of age, ayoooo!) while Wayne was away in prison. Wayne got word of the fact his gf was cheating on him with the young guy he signed under his label and was pissed. Drake, in an effort to smooth out the situation, got Wayne's face tattooed on his arm. Say what you will about portrait tattoos, but this story is just so fucking typical Drake. How the fuck do you think this is gonna help anyone?
Validation: Drake donates money in the music video for God's Plan, only to earn more money with that video/song than he donated in the first place. He felt good about donating and then never did that shit again.
Numbers: As a great man once said: "Crack fiends bought 10 million rocks, that don't mean it's good. It don't mean nothing." (As you can imagine, that man was 2Pac). And with that I say that proving your worth in the industry by numbers don't mean a lot. It means you and your team figured out the market and started producing stupid, vapid, but terribly long albums to maximize streaming numbers, automatically bumping up your place in the industry. This is about quantity, not quality - good rap/ hiphop was never about that. Drake actively validates his music and status with his fame, money and streams and neither him nor his fans seem to get that says nothing about the artistic value of his music. "Numbers lie too, fuck your pride, too!" (I mean really, Baby Shark has 14 Billion views on YouTube - you think that's REAL artistry, Mister Aubrey?)
Cocky Ass Bitch: I would be okay with a lot of his music if Drake just knew his fucking place. He went pop ages ago, but still people (including himself) refer to him as a rapper - no even, as THE rapper, placing him in the Top 3. Sometimes I feel like y'all do this, just to piss me off personally. Apart from everything else wrong with Drake, there's nothing wrong with liking music like his persé. Not everyone likes conscious/ deep stuff and sometimes, when you with the homies, you just wanna chill and listen to something "mindless" - MIND you, I'm not looking down on "non-conscious" rap, I'm just saying not every artist has to be woke/ deep all the time and some "empty" party anthem about girls, fashion, cars and alcoholism is fun at times. These party anthems deserve their place. And a child actor turned rapper turned POP STAR is valid in my books - just not if it's Drake. Apropos cockiness: The dude compares himself multiple times to Michael Jackson and while that got a few good lines out of him, I believe it's close to fucking blasphemy. Drake and MJ on the same pedastal. I mean sure, questionable stuff happening with kids, both of them wildly successful in their industry (mind you, streaming like today wasn't around back then and many of the numbers cannot be compared), but one of them a real talent and the other one some guy who more or less made it as an industry plant. "I can dance like Michael Jackson? / I'd argue your skills really lack, son!" (okay sorry, I know, that was corny as fuck xD) Dude is flexing with numbers instead of poetic abilities -
About the art itself:
Ghostwriters: "What poetic abilities?", I hear you ask - Yeah, don't think I forgot! Best believe I been cooking this one. There's evidence for Drake having ghostwriters - which on its own is fine, don't believe every star writes every single bar on their own. My problem with this is, that Drake keeps his cocky attitude, even though many of his hits aren't really Aubrey-written and also many ghostwriters never get their credit (this is why they're called "ghostwriters", I know that this is not something specific to Drake, but slapping one more name on the credits ain't that hard, when you're worth a billion bucks already). This is the rap equivalent of flexing your homework when you know DAMN WELL copied it off of your best friend and did nothing for that success. I guess his song Right Hand wasn't about a romantic interested after all, but the dudes who been writing it!
STOLEN SHIT: Why in hell is no one mentioning this on here? Drake is KNOWN for stealing other artists' verse metres (referred to as "flows", y'all tumblr, idk how much you guys do know, okay?), melodies, whole beats, samples or verses in general. In no other studio would you see mentions of a "reference track" concerning songwriting. They take a song as reference and build around it as they construct a beat. There's PLENTY of evidence for this happening, one story really had me baffled, where a young indie-rapper met Drake in the early 2010s, gave him his CD to listen to and a whopping 5 years later the indie-rapper realizes Drake just fucking stole his entire song (a really personal one at that) on his latest album back then. Being indie, of course the guy had little to no means of fighting back with lawyers or anything, man's was working a 9to5 job and had other stuff going on. Before you wanna argue with me though: YES. There is a difference between stealing and paying hommage. One famous example is Drake biting Eminem's Superman flow on Chicago Freestyle: "But I do know one thing though/ Bitches, they come, they go/ Saturday through Sunday, Monday / Monday through Sunday, yo/ Maybe I'll love you one day/ Maybe we'll someday grow". The only good thing Drake ever did was changing Em's "Bitches" to "Women" on his song. Other than that: exact same few bars. This is a hommage. Why? Because Eminem, that's why. You can pay hommage to great, well-known artists with good bars. It takes a common ground of knowledge from artist to audience to make a hommage like this work. That can go well. Kendrick copies the flow of a Kanye West song on HiiiPower and it works just fine because you listen to either of the song and think: "Ah yeah exactly, that one part, okay, I see you." You don't pay hommage to a small, unknown, indie-rapper by copying his whole verse about his Mom, when you would never say stuff like that on your records before. You don't, because it wouldn't work. None of your listeners would understand the innuendo at all, because no one ever heard of the "great guy you'd be paying hommage to". So shut up.
Music: It's just not that good. Like yeah, he had a few bangers, but let's not exaggerate. Artistically Drake does not offer anything. If he ever did, he probably left all of that on the first few albums he still rapped on. His delivery sucks, his singing voice sounds like he's tryna be The Weeknd at times but isn't. The lyrics aren't special. What the fuck?
Euphoria: Even before getting deeper into hiphop, I've always hated the way Drake presents himself. When Kendrick said: "I hate the way that you walk, talk, dress" I felt that. I hate the way he "raps", the way he drags his words, the way he laughs, the way he "sings". Just a whole lotta shit I dislike about the guy.
Sneak Dissing: If you want beef then get in line, don't just kinda allude to it, you weak ass bitch
SENSITIVE ASS BITCH: I love a man who's in tune with his feelings but Drake being the cosplaying gangsta clown he is, acts like he's all tough when in reality, you can't really say shit to him, cause he "can't let this shit slide, ay".
Kendrick's Control Verse drops - a verse calling out multiple rappers saying Kendrick will come for them in friendly competition for the crown of being the best. Drake was mentioned. Everyone thinks it's kinda cool and goes along. Drake is mad. In an interview he basically said he found it fake because the next time he saw Kendrick "it was all love" and that he wanted it "to be real. Let it be real then". Okay crodie, next time you get called out in a fair rap competition, best believe I'll sock you in your fucking throat, I gotchu.
The Weeknd doesn't sign to Drake's label OVO after working with Drake for a while. Drake is mad again and feels betrayed. Why you gotta be like this?
Kendrick says that he doesn't wanna collab with Drake because their music is too different, not because of anything personal. He just doesn't see it happen in the near future because it would not match artistically. Drake gets mad.
Drake stopped beefing with Pusha T back in the day. Probably because he exposed his son. But still, if you want beef, then clean up your plate, bc you eat what you order and dont't just start to "let this shit slide, ay"
("allegedly") being involved in XXXTentacion's passing back in 2018 over beef. This beef started because of the flow of X's popular song Look at Me!, which Drake stole shortly after letting X know his management would contact him about a possible collab. As you can imagine, X was never contacted by Drake's people. The kid was 20 years old, man. He said some outrageous shit at times, but no one deserves to go out like he did.
Also, the famous DMX ("Y'all gon make me lose my mind!") once said in an interview that he'd like to punch Drake in the face and I support that. Kendrick and his homies laughed at the clip - as did everybody else, cause it's hilarious if a beast and a legend of hiphop hates Drake. Drake was mad at Kendrick laughing about it and not taking it seriously. What did he expect? Should Kendrick have went after DMX and made him apologize for what he said about lil Aubrey? How old are you? 5?
Drake gets mad at a lot of shit - bottom line. I could go on and on, but I've been writing this for hours, it's half past 3 am and I wanna sleep after uni and work, y'all.
DURING THE DISS-ERTATION: this section is about shit Drake did during the beef with Kendrick.
Saying Kendrick's Like That verse was weak af. That's your core response? Someone flames you and people are already throwing ass to the mere sound of it and you think: "Huh, that sucked anyway." Pathetic.
Calling Kendrick short (over and over and over again) as if his height is under his control/ his fault? - as if that takes way from Kendrick's skill, Kendrick's allegations againt Drake! - as if that means ANYTHING AT ALL to people over the age of like... 12?
Going after anybody's family in the first place. I know nothing is really "off-limits" in a rap battle like this, but please have the fucking decency. Don't mention my Momma, my kids, my dog, my fam, my friends who ain't got nothing to do with the fact that I hate you. I will say I am not proud of Kendrick for getting down on that level himself - but I would be lying if I said I didn't enjoy Meet The Grahams and the sheer panic it induced. And sometimes I gotta be a little childish and yell "But Aubrey started ittt!"
Hitting on Whitney in The Heart Part 6. Don't go for another man's treasure, you absolute dog. Accusing Whitney of being unfaithful. My friend, this beef is about us (the Culture) hating you and the things you do. Stop trying to shift this into something it is not.
Reacting to diss tracks via instagram stories and memes, like he's that one popular girl in 7th grade who's gotta clap back to something someone said in school on her IG. Shut up.
Calling The Weeknd and his manager gay. Are we not over homophobia yet? Being queer is not an insult. Also falsely "accusing" people of being gay is uncool as fuck - but oh "You don't know nun bout dat!" bc false accusations are basically everything you do - and also possibly outing someone like that is fucking hurtful as shit. I know the people involved are probably not queer at all, but if they were - period.
Using AI in a song at all. Drake, you already proved you suck. Don't force it down our throats. What part of you thought it would make you look good? What part said it would be good to do in a diss track, when the world knows diss tracks are even more a show of capability than other songs. Nah, you go and use AI. Idc about your "mind games": Using AI Snoop Dogg is just weird as fuck cause the Doggy is still well and alive - if you want him to feature on your song, call the legend and ask hi- oh wait, you knew he woulda said "Aww hell nah!" cause everyone hates you? Huh. Snoop probably woke up one day, hit a blunt and asked "When the FUCK did I collab with Drake?". Anyway, using AI 2Pac is straight up disrespectful, when you know damn well the guy would've hated you if he knew who you'd become. Just doing this because it's 2Pac, because you can and not even asking for permission of Pac's people is crazy. Glad the shit was taken down anyways.
The 8 Mile "Airing Out Your Dirty Laundry"-Trick before the big battle does NOT invalidate future claims on you diddling kids. No. Not even if 2Pac says it first. Nah.
His Damage Control Effort in post to make it seem like/make us believe that he's in control, when Kendrick has been bodying him is hilariously embarrassing. Anyone can claim the mole was fake "all along" after it happened.
Making fun of Kendrick for his verse on Taylor Swift's Bad Blood is just stupid. Look at all the features Drake does. Rihanna, BadBunny, DJ Khaled, Future, PartyNextDoor, Lil Wayne, Diddy, Nicki Minaj, Wizkid, ..... the list is so fucking long (I'm just picking at random songs at this point, cause I do not want my browser/spotify history to be associated with Drake's music. I don't wanna go out of my way to say he NEEDS these people to stay relevant but let's face it: His discography and his success would be different if it weren't for them
Acting like he's so great for "finally making Kendrick rap again" - Sir, you don't write your shit on your own, stfu. You don't invest time and effort into your vapid albums. YOU should be thankful for Kendrick destryoing you, giving us the best few lines out of you in a long time.
Not addressing important shit. We been over the allegations, I will not repeat them in this post cause this is already long enough. BUT y'all on the same page as me, aight? Instead of addressing EVERYTHING, he just responds with diss tracks that aren't terrible but really not THAT good, yk? Not going into the shit that we want to se addressed.
Acting like disstracks need replay value. Idk if this is a Drake or a fanbase problem, but people really act like Drake's tracks were better, bc you can listen to them more casually. "Kendrick basically made a whole song about Drake" - THIS IS WHAT A DISS TRACK SHOULD BE! Notice how we don't call every song containing a diss immediately a "diss track"? That's why. Diss tracks were meant to hit your opponent in the stomach with witty bars, double entendres, nice delivery and good production. Diss tracks weren't meant to be club bangers - bonus if they do end up being some though, looking at you, Like That and Not Like Us.
Not reading into stuff properly or just not listening. This is a small one, but ngl I hate the fact they got the Mother I Sober reference wrong (The song is NOT about Kendrick being abused, BUT about Kendrick not being abused and his Mom NOT believing him and passing her sa trauma onto him, even though he didn't experience that). Also Kendrick explicitly says "DOT, the money, power, respect / The last one is better" on Like That and Drakes response (again) is "Huh, I have way more money than you and in the industry, I'm way more powerful than you. Also, you so short tihhihi." BITCH he SAID respect was the most important of the three and you disrespect him, not by calling him out by his wrong doings but by picking on physical features the man cannot change like a 5th grade bully.
Anyways. phew. If you made it this far... wow. I'm impressed. I'll keep updating this. Thanks for coming to my beef talk.
EDIT: Thank y'all for the positive reactions on this post. If you seek more info/ want me to further explain stuff/ have even more dirt on Drake, let me know and we can work something out. -Frankie out
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norrisleclercf1 · 4 months
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This might be real late but I was rewatching the Vegas gp. So if you are up for it, could you do a poly lestapen and reader where Charles gets annoyed about the first lap incident
A/N: It's been so long since I've watched that race, so excuse me if anything is wrong with this, also I've missed my babies lestappen
"Charles, just talk to me," You roll your eyes, knowing that Charles for the past 3 hours has refused to talk to Max since they finished their press conferences. Max had apologized to Charles for pushing him off the track, and you and everyone else thought Charles was perfectly okay, clearly that wasn't true.
The moment the cameras were off them, Charles wasn't saying a word and would only speak to you. The three of you were back from partying and now, Charles was trying to shower while Max was with you in the bathroom whining. "Charlie....please," Max whispers, hating this. You wanted to get involved but, when it came to their racing, you stayed out of it.
Charles gets out, wrapping a towel around his waist and kisses your cheek going to his suitcase to grab some underwear to sleep in. Max stands up quickly and storms into the bedroom and you follow knowing this wasn't to end well.
"If you're so angry with me, why date me? You knew this would happen, especially with us, you said you were fine, why did you lie? To hurt me, because if that was your goal, you've succeeded Charles. You've hurt me more than anyone else I know," Max turns and stalks into the bathroom, slamming the door making it and the wall rattle.
Charles just blinks and sighs, his shoulders deflating and turns facing you. "You've done wrong Charles, he didn't mean to do that. Has he ever apologized to you before? On live TV? Charles, he felt horrible, all he talked about was how bad he felt with what he did. You accepted his apology and made him think everything was okay only for you to ignore him the last 3 hours, that's just cruel." Charles doesn't say anything as you turn and climb into bed, turning your back to him.
"I made the mistake of reviewing the tape with the team, and they were all furious, and I guess....a small part was still angry and, I was being childish." You sit up quick and glare at him. "Don't say it to me, jackass, say it to the one you've actually hurt," You voice holds no heat which has Charles nod his head and move to the bathroom but stops when the door is ripped open by Max.
"I love you," Charles blurts, Max stuttering to a stop and staring at Charles like he grew a second head. "I know that Charl, but you still hurt my feelings," Max whispers and moves around Charles but, Charles grabs his waist and turns him around. "I'm a dick, and deserve to sleep on the couch. But, I'll never use what happens on the track affect the love I have for you and Y/n." Max sighs and moves hugging Charles, melting into his boyfriends hold.
"I love you too, please don't ever ignore me again," Max pleads, squeezing Charles close who sighs leading them to the bed. You make room for them as they lay with you between them. "You two ever argue again about racing, kicking you out of the bed," "Deal," they both agree.
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Oh GOD, breeding kink with Ghost but he's actually determined to get his darling pregnant because after everything they've been through together, how much he loves her and vice versa? I could go on but it's just something to think about. I also strongly believe he'd be that kind of girl dad heheh
Couldn't Love You More (Ghost x F!Reader)
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Left pic credit: @ vhenan_virabelasan on IG
Word count: 3.7 k
Tags/warnings: Tooth-rotting FLUFF. Mild, soft smut 🔞, crying (from joy), breeding kink (obv), comfort no hurt. All the softness and love.
A/N: Excuse me, more soft!Ghost coming through! I hope you like this take anon 💕
"I'm tired of using those things."
Simon rarely whispers, hardly ever murmurs, and never coos. But this time, his voice is deliberately soft. 
You sigh and put the condom package down on the table. This evening had been a nice change, a pampering for your poor, stressed-out nerves. He had done his best to take your mind off work ever since he got home: he took you out for a 3-course dinner – which reminded you of the early days of your dating – and it was all supposed to end in a good stress relief of a fuck.
You'd sent him suggestive texts all morning, knowing he was coming home today. Those messages were extra naughty because you happened to be ovulating, and juicy, and horny as hell.
And you know he has waited for this moment as well. Which is why you can't get your head around why he wants to raise the subject of using other methods of contraception right before you're about to have sex. 
Why would he suddenly start complaining when both of you are already naked – practically seconds before you're about to roll down the condom for him?
"You know I've tried, Simon," you sigh again – you don't even bother to disguise the annoyance in your voice. After all, you've tried basically everything to make it more pleasurable for you to make love without the risk of getting knocked up. You hate the rubber between the two of you just as much as he does, if not more. Apparently you need to remind him how the last attempt with the pill went.
"I become a bloated monster," you say, realizing you're pouting only when he laughs.
You absolutely love it when he does: it's a rare thing, even with you. Even after all these years of love and dedication, the warm, husky chuckle at the back of his throat makes your heart flutter and your head feel dizzy.
"That's not what I meant."
"Then what did you mean…?"
The man has a tiny twinkle in his eyes, and the flutter in your heart turns into something heavier, more serious. He looks you up and down as if to weigh whether you're ready to take in what he's about to say.
"How about we just ditch the bloody things?"
Your heart is truly getting it today: it skips a beat or two from what he says. From what he implies.
"But you…” you whisper, still unsure if you're truly discussing the same thing here. “You said that kids are a bad idea." 
"They are." 
The twinkle in those eyes turns into an amused gleam, the corner of his mouth lifts up a bit from seeing you so shocked. 
And Simon never said he didn't want children.
It's just that he has avoided the subject like it's a seasonal flu he doesn't want to catch. 
He would make the perfect father: you just know it. Sad to say, but it was one of the main reasons you fell for this man. It's stupid, but it's true: women look for these things. They can tell if a guy would be a good choice for a father. They notice safety, security, the willingness to support and provide.
Biology and instincts be damned, you simply can't deny that Simon is the first man who made you think about what it would be like to have children. And of course the perfect candidate for a father thought that kids were a bad idea…
It seemed like a cruel joke, the way he brushed you off when you first approached him with your shy request. You pussyfooted around the subject, were as delicate as one can be, knowing it might make him uncomfortable. 
And it did. It more than just did.
He freaked the fuck out, went to work, and worked himself nearly to death – literally almost got himself killed, and you understood that this was serious. His childhood, his past, the dangers of his work – of course he thought himself unfit for the role.
Infuriatingly, it only made you more convinced that he was the perfect choice. The man was just so fricking responsible.
You barred your mouth shut after that. Instinct told you Simon might just leave if you continued the talk about having kids. Not because he couldn't take it, but because he would want to give you a chance to find someone to raise a family with before it was too late. 
It was his view of unconditional love: he was ready to let you go if need be. He would set you free if he suspected it would make you happy.
But then you saw him look at tiny kids – usually the ones that had just learned to walk – with a fleeting longing in his stare. It always turned into a withdrawn sulk, the gaze of a man who has accepted his fate.
He seemed to have the softest spot for little girls, especially when they were laughing and giggling or being unruly rascals, and sometimes flinched when a baby started to cry in the store. He looked a bit distressed for a second, and not because of the noise – but because he couldn't locate the immediate source and go and calm the baby. 
That's when you realized he actually wanted kids. The biological clock on this man was ticking just as furiously as yours. 
Years passed, and you silently buried your dreams of raising a little family together. He was enough for you, more than enough: you would not break up because of this. No man could ever replace Simon. 
But it still hurt. It was like a wound that never healed.
Until this night…
This night, it seemed he would not only cure it but heal it so well it wouldn’t even leave a scar. 
You suddenly find yourself under him – his moves are so quick that it's almost like you're teleported there. He sometimes does that: lets you play with him for a while, have your fun on top before reminding you who is in control here.
And this time, he won't even let you play.
"Simon, what are you doing," you sigh with barely concealed exhilaration. 
As if you didn't know exactly what he is about to do. 
He looks at you with that possessive look he sometimes has when you two have been apart for far too long. And there's something more behind that stare. It tells you that this is serious; this means business. The package you placed on the nightstand remains unopened and, apparently, will be the witness to his mission tonight. 
Serves the damn thing right…
You take in the absolute beef of this man: the bulk of pecs above you, the wide, solid middle that nearly swallows you every time you're under him.
You almost disappear between him and the mattress when you two are doing missionary, and it's one of the best feelings in the world. You've wanted to sink your teeth in to those huge, solid shoulders for god knows how many times. Once or twice, you actually did give him a little bite, only a nib, really, during a good pounding – and giggled at the breathless grunt of "Hey" that followed.
The trail of hair, darker in tone compared to the hair on his head, spreads over his abs which rest under a thin layer of fat. The happy trail, as you call it, runs down until it meets the heavy cock that always makes your mouth water like it's your favorite meal.
His hand is weighty, adoring when it comes to rest on your waist – the callous of his palms feels just the right kind of rough as he gives you the softest squeeze and a caress.
And he must know from the wanton looks you gave him all evening that he can just walk right in. Probably knew from those texts already that you've been wet all day long.
You try to spread your legs wider than they can go as he grabs himself to be positioned to your entrance. The fat tip of him feels heavy on your folds as he lazily slides himself up and down your slit, teasing the opening but not going in. It feels heavenly to sense him, all of him, with nothing there between you. There's no lifeless rubber: just his thick velvet meeting your wetness and silk.
The darned man won't even answer your question… Probably knows it's not really a question, just an astonished sigh of love.
"It's…not safe," your head falls back as he pushes the first few inches in – teasing you still by not giving you the full length and thick of him.
"Tired of safe, too," he rumbles softly above you, feeds more of himself in, and you tighten around his cock: receive him with fierce love and yearning. He groans at the sensation – it must feel divine for him, too. It must feel like it's meant to be this way. Now and forever.
You sigh as he starts to move, slow and intense, just the way he knows you like it when there's been too much stress and life has been a bitch. He always makes you feel better, always makes you melt in his arms when you run to him from the unfair, fucked up world. 
He's got some bad days too, and that’s when you ruffle his hair, scrub his back in the shower, give him a sloppy little blowjob, or make him his favorite dish, anything to make the tension in those mountains of shoulders disappear. 
You two worship each other; there’s no question about that. 
"Simon–ah… Truly, are you serious…?" 
"Hell yeah."
The idea of him cumming inside you is thrilling enough, but it's not just about that. 
You're ovulating, and he's a man in his absolute prime. He reminds you of mountain lions and snow leopards, living their life in harsh conditions and in wandering solitude until… Until the perfect companion comes along. He's simply the most virile male there is; broad, wide, and heavy, always ready when you are.
A man like Simon just cannot be infertile.
His eyes are half-lidded already, and those pale eyelashes make you bite your lip and grab his butt like it would be a life or death situation if he chose to withdraw.
And you know he loves it when you grope his ass and try to assist him with the thrusts. 
His little helper, indeed…
"Bloody fucking hell, you feel good…"
His head rolls back, exposing the tendons on his neck, thick, like the rest of him. Everything in this man is thick and broad and good – and fuck – he glides in and out like a dream. Somehow the extra layer of rubber has taken the brunt of his thickness away, but you feel it now, all of it, and it's something you could die for.
He grunts and thrusts, then halts for a while, chuckles all breathless…
"It's gonna be one hell of a show, sweetheart."
He's talking about what comes after. How it will be when there's a new addition and not a crew of two anymore. It brings tears to your eyes to see how he's already thinking about the future – and how he does it with a smile and a pleased chuckle.
"I'm used to sleepless nights," he reminds you softly. "You're not."
Ugh – he's thinking about your well-being when it would only make you the happiest woman on earth to take care of his children. Your children.
"I'll manage," you whisper.
"I know you will."
The tears are so close now; he’s simply the one and only person in this world for whom your love is boundless. It’s endless, overflowing.
He pulls back a little, raises your legs to rest on his shoulders, then crawls forward – he’s about to go deep, and the indecent but insanely sweet position makes you quail from him at first. It’s just too much all of a sudden.
"Wait–"
"The boys said this'll do the trick," he explains, waits until you adjust under and around him.
"The–the boys?"
He had been discussing this with his workmates…? 
Discussing which position is the best to help conceive?
"Yeah. Wanna do this properly."
This man might actually be serious… He just might be serious about this, and you still have difficulty grasping it.
"I can't believe you want this," you whisper, still trying to catch your breath on what's happening.
"Believe it or not, it's gonna happen now."
The smallest tear escapes, and you purse your lips, shut them tight to prevent a tiny little bawl from erupting. 
"I've always wanted you, Simon," you breathe into the air between you as he starts to make love to you, fill you with intent. "Just you, all these years…"
He rarely whispers, but this time, his voice is the softest hush.
"Right back at ya, darling."
"I–I want to give you… want your kids," you whimper, tears coating your voice as he continues the torture while the sweet, tight love surrounds you both.
"I want a family, Simon," you pant weakly, almost distressed. So urgent, desperate, like the wound is yet to be healed. You've never said those words to him before because you were afraid he might leave. 
"Love… fuckin' hell."
He has to stop to catch his breath, to catch the truth. Of course he has known it all along without you telling him, because he simply has those instincts of a wild animal. 
But words are powerful… They are magic. And this magic wants itself spelled out.
"I'll give them to you," he promises. "All of it. I swear."
Your eyes drift closed from the full wave of his vow. This mission is a crucial one, then, one of his most important ones. The man loves challenges; he loves when you up the stakes. Perhaps that's what this is about: he doesn't want to be a coward about the thing you both want. 
The skulls, the brass and death that always surround him can't take away the fact that he's a lifegiver. No matter what anyone says, men can give life, too. He has already given you so much, and now he's going to give you children.
A few more tears push through, and it's one of the sweetest things in your life: to get fucked by him so good while you're crying from joy.
"Luv. You trust me?"
You open your eyes again, and the sight of him is crystallized through tears. It's the most beautiful thing. 
"I trust you," you answer with a shaky breath.
Your trust is even more drugging to him than the tightness of your cunt, it seems. The corner of his eye twitches once, his brows knit together, and a pained look passes in his stare: but it's the sweet kind of pain, just like yours is.
"Feels so good," you whisper, looking up at him with devout love. "So, so good…"
"You're damn right," he sighs, panting with strained, short breaths. "Never felt this good."
He rocks you like you're under the sea, at the bottom of the ocean where the waves are mellow and the seabed is made of the softest sand. You're squeezed between his arms, tightly; he pins you to the bed with his body. The flutter of those pale lashes with every thrust is illegally sweet.
Your lips are bolted shut from the raw sensation, the swelling waves, but when a noise finally erupts, it does so with force. 
You know it makes him wild whenever you cry and plead under him. You know it sends him straight to the edge, too: when you moan and tighten around his cock, spread yourself for him to plunder while you're clawing at his back. You were so embarrassed the first time you noticed the red marks on his skin after your little sessions, but he was only pleased and said you should never apologize for that. His body is full of past pain and torture, and still, still, he allows, even wants you to destroy it even more.
"Faster, Simon, please…" 
"Yeah, that's it. Beg... Beg for me, love… "
And damn right, he's eating up your wrecked state like it's time for Christmas dinner, and the table is brimming with his favorite food. You're close, so close it would be torture, devastation if he stopped. 
"Ya want me to give it to you?" His voice is more rough, more commanding. God, he's close too.
"Yes–give it to me, please–"
Just don't stop, whatever you do, don't stop…
You beg some more, but it's incoherent. Just the way he likes. 
Simon–fuck…
There's no reason to it, just ah's and fuck's and love's, all knit together in a sweet, heady mess as you come– 
Fuck–!
…the orgasm is so intense it points your toes, makes you wrap around his middle with what little strength you have in your arms and fingers and those tiny little claws. Your nails sink in, somewhere between his shoulder blades: he's so wide you can't quite reach to hug him, but you latch onto him like a drowning person nonetheless.
"Oh–oh fucking god…!" 
He comes, right after, buries himself so deep that it stings a little, but you would never, ever complain. He pumps you full, doesn't even move, only arches his back to go even deeper, although he's already buried there to the hilt.
And never has he in all your years together sounded so vulnerable. He usually just grunts and huffs when he comes, but now you get a whole string of words and a fragile, broken pitch. He sounds as if he's near the point of breaking into tears. 
It must feel divine to cum inside you instead of a condom, and what's even more, with the intent to fulfill a mission with that shot. Give life.
If you don't get pregnant from this, well… you doubt you ever will.
He's lying on top of you in a heavy, panting heap, sounding like he's just done ten deadlift PRs in a row. You can't help but laugh, breathless, too, and caress him as he comes down from his sex high.
"You can let me go now," you ghost your fingertips up and down his back when he still doesn't move. It's not that you want him to release you, but he's simply too heavy to be lying all over you like this for long periods of time.
"Nah not yet. Gotta make sure..."
He thinks you want him to pull out, and you giggle some more.
"You're crushing me," you laugh. "And we can do this all weekend, silly. If you want to make sure."
His middle contracts with a silent laugh, too.
"Got a fair point there, love."
Finally, he lets you out of the spread. He pulls out, too – that's not necessarily what you wanted, but when he takes you in his arms, you don't complain.
"That was… so nice," you say, suddenly shy. As if this was the first time he wrapped himself around you in a post-coital embrace.
"That was the best."
He's so warm, and the arm around you is heavy, even when lax. Especially when lax. You feel soft and sweet in his hold made of pure strength.
"I'd be surprised if not. You were very determined."
"You think that did it..?"
He's suddenly shy, too. You could swear he has never asked such a fragile question during or after a mission.
"No half-assing with my sweetheart."
One could say he really used his whole ass on this. You know it, because you're the one who spurred him on with weak but eager hands.
"...but I think it would be best to try again tomorrow. Just in case," he suggests, and you can hear the smile. God, that you love him.
"I wouldn't say no to that."
You imagine him waking up to your baby's cry with a sigh and a jaw-dislocating yawn, hushing you back to sleep by telling you it's his turn to go. He would finally locate the source of crying and make it his mission to cradle the little breadcrumb back to sleep, too. You just know Simon would sometimes fall asleep on the sofa while the baby is still in his arms, sound asleep just like their dad.
And you also know the child would make him laugh more. He would have the greatest time hearing all the silly (not to talk about the clever!) things the kid comes up with once it started talking. Simon would listen with a straight face, at first – out of respect – but then he would come to you with an unrestrained smile and a comment: "Did'ya hear what that little thing just said? Unbelievable..."
Whenever the kid had a tricky question, you would send them to Simon. It's decided already. You imagine him explaining things to the child with his steady and calm briefing voice while you're trying to keep your giggle in.
And when the little one was big enough to run around and poke things off the shelves, Simon would embrace you from behind while you're pouring some morning tea and say: "Should we make another one, hmm?"
After all, your little troublemaker would also need a friend to play with...
There's a gigantic, peaceful smile on your face, and Simon should be snoring by now… But he's still awake, and the arm around you draws you closer. He even tucks his hand partly between your body and the mattress. It's the sweetest prison from which you never want to escape.
"What if… What if I get grumpy when I'm pregnant?" You start to chit-chat nonsense while he holds you against a solid chest. You know he will fall asleep soon, and you wish to voice some fragile concerns before he does.
"I'll bring you ice cream to keep you nice and calm," he mutters in the back of your neck, sounding drowsy already.
"What if ice cream won't help?"
"I'll bring you chocolate."
You smile at him having a solution to every problem, no matter how minor. 
"You're really not afraid…?"
"Of you being grumpy? Nah I don't think so."
"No," you laugh at him joking around. "Of… changes."
"After all that we've been through? No." He brushes his lips over your neck, and you turn a little to look at him.
"Simon... What made you change your mind?"
He thinks on the answer for a good ten seconds. You know that inward look, which is both a gaze to the past and a shaky, hopeful glimpse to the future.
"Don't wanna die without knowing how our kid would look like. What they would be like."
You swallow past sorrow – it's such a beautiful thing to say that you have to catch your breath for a moment. Then you put your hand over his arm, the one keeping you close to him.
"Guess I got tired of living in fear," he sums up the change of heart, and you have to blink back more tears.
"I'm tired of living in fear, too," you whisper, and he entwines your fingers together. The kiss that follows is like a seal to your change of plans. It's pure hope.
"Could you... Could you say that we'll be fine?" You speak on his lips as softly as you can. You sometimes worry that he's annoyed by your constant need for reassurance, but he sounds as solid as a soldier can be.
"We'll be fine like always. Promise you that."
He doesn't seem to mind: if anything, you could swear that giving you encouragement only makes his chest puff up a little. The man gets satisfaction from you needing him in your life like this.
"Don't worry. I'll take care of us."
You ease fully into his embrace. He has said he'll take care of you many times before, but now your world is changing. It has changed already; you just know it. There's no more you and him, a team of two. 
There will be a tiny little breadcrumb too.
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bonny-kookoo · 8 months
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Jungkook
𝐇𝐨𝐭 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐝 🔞 | Oneshot
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"Does he even pay you?"
Tags/Warnings: Idol!Jungkook, fuckboy!Jungkook, friends with benefits situation, major angst, mentions of sex work, smoking, smut, god so much filth, Dom!Jungkook, big dick JK but what's new, did I mention angst?, protected sex, multiple rounds, multiple positions, a brief thighjob, so many feelings
Length: 7k+ words
There is no taglist for this fic. This is a Oneshot.
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"How does it feel to be a celebrity and ending up with me?" You wonder at him over the music, making him frown before he shakes his head, pulling you in by your hands he's holding.
"What're you talking about babe?" He argues softly, letting go of your hands to hold your waist now. "I've got the prettiest girl at my side, in my opinion. Can't complain whatsoever." He tells you into your ear, voice raised a bit and slightly raspy from his last smoking break.
You just shrug, enjoying the music when some people approach you, talking to Jungkook about something you don't listen in on, even though he's still holding you close. It's none of your business, you really don't want to get too involved with his work and everything around it, but it's clear that he likes to do exactly that.
Jungkook wants you around all the time. Doesn't matter if it fits the scene and situation, if he can invite you or bring you along, he will.
Fans don't know your connection to him. They constantly battle it out in comment sections that you're just a translator, nothing else, that you're staff so of course you have to travel alongside him. And just how they can seem to connect everything to dating if it fits their 'ship' they've got inside their minds, they're also talented in finding thousands of (sometimes frankly ridiculous) reasons as to why it cannot possibly be true either.
While before, someone wearing the same jewelry as Jungkook was a confirmation of a relationship, with you its just pure coincidence. You're an adult woman, you can choose whatever necklace or ring you want, that doesn't mean you're dating him. You're wearing the same t-shirt he wore just a day ago? Maybe you just own the same, or he was nice enough to lend it to you for one reason or the other. Seen near his hotel room? Well of course, you're staff!
The truth is, that you're not even staff at all- but you're also not dating him.
Jungkook has become awfully… comfortable in his trust that fans will brush off every rumor floating around. It's why he's shamelessly grabbing your tits from behind right now just for the fun of it, lips kissing your neck as you slap them off to hold your waist instead. "They'll call it AI-generated or something." He laughs, but you can't shake off the feeling of doubt about that. "And there's no one here filming anyways. It's a private VIP zone, so relax baby." He chuckles, swaying you with him to the beat.
He's right that this is a secluded zone- but that's never stopped anything ever before, did it. One random Instagram live where you're both seen in the background and it's over. For both of you.
"Let's go back to the hotel though. I'm horny as fuck." He laughs, making you roll your eyes with red cheeks to go with.
Jungkook is a shameless person- he doesn't see anything wrong with the things he says or does if they're not hurting anybody. He's got his own opinions and he stands by them, only ever shifting his stance if there's undeniable evidence of him being wrong shown to him. And he also enjoys the more physical aspects of love.
Jungkook enjoys sex to its fullest.
He used to sleep around quite often, his charm and also wealth and status enough to make the act of finding someone willing fairly easy. Most wouldn't be believed anyways if they openly said he'd slept with them- he made sure they never took pictures or god forbid videos, and he also never stayed the night, most of the time preferred the security of his own home where he could politely tell them to leave after the deed was done, his reasoning always having to do something with his work.
'I'm sorry, I got called up to the studio.'
'Fuck I forgot I had a flight early morning tomorrow.'
'I'm really sorry, ah this is awkward, but my manager just told me to a live now, and I can't have you being seen.'
You knew he did this. You were staff at some point, after all, even if not hired by his company but rather outsourced during a particularly demanding schedule and many other employees sick due to a viral infection going around in the office building.
You'd been just another victim of his. But somehow, he ended up biting down too hard- making him taste blood, Primal hunger awakened at the mind-blowing experience he'd had, an odd need to keep you just for himself having blossomed from it all. You were a keeper, you still are- and while it's not really love, it's good enough for him. Close enough.
He reminds you, regularly, that it's not love, with how he never claims to love you, avoids the topic altogether, always tells others you're just very close even when it's obvious just like tonight that you're a little too close to just be something casual. But he enjoys your presence nonetheless. Like a dear friend, just with some deeper layers to it.
Some staff call you his personal prostitute. And in a way, you do sometimes feel like that.
Jungkook is that kind of man who could have sex first thing in the morning. Doesn't even have to wake up fully- if you touch him just a bit, he'll come to life in an instant, if he's not sporting a boner already. He enjoys the exhaustion he feels afterwards, always pushes you past your first and second O, keeps his own saved up for the very last stretch all the time. He draws it out to high heavens, has trouble calling it quits.
Shower sex he's mastered, knows exactly where to step and what position to get into to make it as safe as possible. He loves having you on his large sofa, leather easy to clean after you're both done. Sixty-nine is his favorite dinner for two, though he has to admit that lately, he's been enjoying the more closer positions a lot more. Spooning from behind, lotus, you name it- you've become more than just an outlet for him.
He doesn't know what they call you behind his back. What your unofficial status is. They'd never admit that to him, because why would they? No one wants to get on his bad side if they don't have to.
He's on his phone, free hand on your thigh as you both sit in the back of the car that's driving him back to his hotel. He's gonna get out first, make his way inside, while you'll get in later from the back entrance to not raise any suspicion. It's normal. Routine. You've mastered it by now.
"I'll see you in ten." He winks before he makes his way out the car, rushing past some fans who've found out his location, bodyguards already there to guide him inside the lobby.
"Does he pay you?" The driver chuckles, and you shake your head. "Damn." The elderly man clicks his tongue. "Go find yourself an actual man, dear." He tells you as he parks behind the hotel, watching you move, your phone vibrating in your pocket, before it stops suddenly. "You know what they call you, right?"
"I know." You admit quietly.
"And you're okay with that? You're too sweet to let yourself be used like that. Have some self-worth." The man tells you with a kind tone. "I've seen you around long enough to know that you're kind, and a nice person. Trust me, you can and will find a proper man to love you right. But this?" He shakes his head. "You know he just wants you because you've become routine."
"I know." You repeat again, sighing a little.
"You're not what they say you are. You're just a little soft at heart, hm?" The old guy smiles over his shoulder, watching you unbundled your seatbelt. "Trust me, he won't be sad if you call it quits. I've worked for guys like this for more than thirty years- they'll just jump to the next." He explains, and you smile to yourself, before you nod towards the man. "Never mess with entertainers, sweetheart. They'll always break your heart." he offers.
"I know." You say once more, before you exit the car, and get on your way to Jungkook's hotel room.
You don't officially share one, but he still keeps you around for most of the night. You leave whenever he has to do a livestream or if he wants to go to bed, and you come back if he wants you to- but most nights you sleep alone, because he deems it too intimate for you to stay.
Apparently, sleeping in the same bed is more intimate than spitting on your cunt. Interesting.
When you knock on the door, Jungkook opens. Something's off, you notice it right away, but you don't dwell on it, don't answer. It's none of your business, and he won't tell you anyways, so what's the point in just further inducing his bad mood.
It's quiet as he moves around, since he doesn't talk to you, and you don't know what to say. You wait for him to make his move, and when he doesn't, you get up to grab your sweater you forgot in his room earlier, just to have him stand behind you, hands on your hips. "I didn't forget about you." He chuckles, and you let the fabric slip out of your fingers and back onto the floor as he kisses the crook of your neck.
Maybe jungkook is indeed using you. But you've started to use him just as much, if only to even out the odds, and make yourself feel more than just cheap company.
He slips out of his shirt. You raise your arms to help him take off yours, your naked skin at this point almost a requirement for him every time he takes you. He used to be satisfied with just fucking you somewhere quiet quick and simple to quench his thirst, but over the course of time now nearing an entire year, he's become more and more hungry. Like he wants to crawl underneath your skin at some point, the Idol constantly pushes himself more and more inside your body, not just in a sexual sense. He buys you clothes he thinks will look good on you, has a playlist just for when you're at his place filled with somber lovesongs more about heartbreak than anything else. He claims he didn't look up the lyrics, but you know he's lying. He knows a lot more english than he admits, just so he can pull the 'I don't understand' card whenever he's asked a question he doesn't want to answer.
He lets you wear his clothes without much comment by now, has gifted you jewelry he's worn and liked, laughs any mention of that being 'such a sweet gesture' off if anyone around him mentions it. He's not your boyfriend, but he surely is starting to act like it- maybe the lines are blurring for him just as much as they do for you?
People around you have started betting. On when he's gonna have another one, when you'll be 'swapped out' for something else, or at what point he's gonna make it official that you're indeed more than just nightly company. You don't await that day. It's never gonna come anyways.
"Turn around." He commands, and you do, because that's the easiest way to get where you want to be down the line. Head empty, no thoughts left, fucked stupid by a man who keeps you around for just your body and the familiarity you provide. You don't really mind any longer, long having stopped caring about emotions that are fruitless, bound to rot and die because Jungkook won't ever nurture anything you'd try and plant in his heart. He doesn't want it, and doesn't need it either- if he wants to feel loved, he just has to show his face to his millions of fans always on edge for more content. That's where he gets his love from. Maybe you're just there to feed other desires he can't have fulfilled like that.
He licks his lips as he gazes over your naked upper body, bra long undone by his hands on your back, fingers trained in the routine by now. You remember the surprise he'd shown you when you'd worn one with the clasp up front, face so soft and round for just a second that it felt like you'd just slipped into a dream- but his hunger had quickly returned, because Jungkook is a beast never satisfied. He craves more and more, constantly aims for absolute euphoria, never soft, never gentle.
Jungkook bites. He claims, grips, holds and pushes- he's aware over the physical strength he holds over you, and plays around with the fact almost every night. From tugging on your leg to pushing your head down whenever you decide to please him with your mouth instead for once. Something about the way you swallow around him and swirl your tongue always makes him feral, thighs trembling as the muscles spasm beneath the skin from the force of his orgasm. Maybe that's why he keeps you around. Because you can keep up.
His own shirt is shed, and his hands make quick work of his belt before he helps you out of your pants as well. He'd told you he didn't want to use the bed tonight, because asking for new sheets is always awkward, but he does it anyways- picks you up just to let you fall onto the bed, crawling over you. "What do you want?" You ask out of breath, but he just tilts his head in familiar habit, until it shakes no.
"Don't know yet." He answers. This is new.
Usually he always has a fixed scene set out, knows how he wants to take you right away, but this time he visibly seems unsure where to start. Almost like the first time.
He spits in his hand, doesn't bother taking off the rings, fingers working you up like it's second nature. He knows where to place them, how to move and what patterns to choose- and you don't bother thinking about the possible reason for it. Probably to get you wet and ready quick so he can get to the actual act itself, or maybe he just finds some sort of personal satisfaction from it. You're not sure- and neither do you really want to ask.
You're a little cold, but he'll warm you up soon. Hopefully you won't get sick like last time. Will he find someone else to fuck if you're unavailable?
Who knows. He surely has a lot to choose from, if he so much as asked.
He's got a question on his mind, but visibly contemplates on asking it. His teeth clamp down on his bottom lip, tongue playing with the twin piercings placed there for a second, before he leans in, kisses you. This is one of those things he does that are just outright cruel to you. His kisses full of fever and want feel so burning hot that you're sure you're marked by them for life. Like a signature he's inked underneath your skin almost he claims you again and again like this, with his tongue teasing yours, mouths open and ready to steal each other's breath.
He surely takes yours hostage, every time- and that's probably the smallest crime he commits.
"Have you eaten today?" He asks, and it catches you off guard, eyes opening again, painfully tugged back into reality where he lets his sticky hand run over your abdomen, just to settle on your hipbone. "Your stomach keeps growling." He teases, and you come crashing down. Of course. He'd never actually remember to ask that out of the blue if it wasn't for something reminding him about it.
"Not really." You respond, adjusting your position a little bit, legs trying to pull him closer. "Doesn't matter." You say, and he hums, leaning down again to mouth at your neck- probably marking his territory again, a joke made on a constant whenever you turn up with the blooming bruises on your skin, their origin more than obvious.
"Hm." He hums, almost dissatisfied, but you don't bother to think about it. He moves to lean off the side of the bed, pulling his suitcase closer to get himself a condom, opening the package easily before he rolls it over his length. He seems oddly soft tonight, in more ways than one. Is he still exhausted from the shooting? Could be. He never wants to admit himself that he has to take breaks, thinks that his body can just magically manifest strength from nothing but pure thought, and it used to irritate you, because you felt responsible, in a way. But that was when you still saw more in this than there actually was- nowadays, it's his business, not yours. He's got nutritionists and personal trainers who get paid for taking care of him. It's not your job.
What is your job, really?
Well, you're most certainly not working under his company any longer, and neither have you returned to your original agency either- simply because Jungkook's management deemed you too much of a danger in your position, after the idol had let it slip that you two were having sex on a regular basis. So you just signed an NDA, got paid for your silence, now earning a living by writing books. Modern fantasy novels, where the daydreams you once had can actually become reality, and your hopes and wishes can be dreamed of by other people who have the same.
It's good money. A hobby you cherish.
Jungkook has never asked you what you work as nowadays. He doesn't even visit your apartment, has never seen it before, and he doesn't know if you have family either. He just takes you as his, lets you live alongside him and entertains you whenever he's in the mood for it. And you let him, because these days, he's all you've got. There's not much else you can do than write all day at home or accompany him on his overseas schedules.
You're not sure why he always drags you along, when back home, he won't even call you for days. Maybe he doesn't have to? Maybe his bed at home is always warm. But if that's the case, why not take them on a trip once in a while? Does he have designated women for specific occasions?
Then who will the woman be he chooses to show to the public one day? Number three in his harem?
You can't even truly blame him. As someone he grew up in this industry, his view on the world is warped, shifted, not the same colors as yours. He doesn't feel the same worth in a simple banknote that you do, he can't understand the struggle of missing the bus or having to face an empty fridge.
"Sit up, baby." He tells you, chuckles when you struggle a little to do so- compared to him, flying around all the time actually does take a toll on you. And the petname doesn't make it any better in this moment, as his hands reach out to hold you steady, helping your legs over his thighs, before he guides the head of his cock into you. He wants you close tonight it seems like. Hopefully he keeps holding you, because you're not very energetic this time. "I've got you." He says, and you nod, resting your arms around his neck, hands faintly touching the skin of his back. "Are you cold?" He wonders.
"A bit." You respond. He's probably noticed your icy fingertips.
"I'll warm you up." He purrs, and you nod. You know he will. He always does- always hot hearted in everything he does, even in this. He holds you close, hands on your behind helping you move, your hips rolling a bit too slow for his liking, but he overlooks it for once. You're not sure what's up with him tonight. This isn't him. "You tired, baby?" He wonders, and you nod.
"Sorry." You tell him, but he shakes his head, moves to lay you down, knees pressed into the soft hotel bed mattress as he thrusts his hips forwards.
"It's alright." He brushes it off. "Flight was long as hell." He muses, lazily moving himself. You're enjoying this, even if it's odd for him to behave this way. "Wanna come over for breakfast tomorrow morning?" He asks, and you shake your head.
"Can't." You sigh, arms now moving to lay above your head, eyes closed in bliss. "I fly out back home at 8 tomorrow." You remind him, and you can't see the way his brows lower, face darkening as he realizes he didn't know that. You usually fly back after him. Why are you going home sooner this time?
"Why?" He huffs out, hands grabbing your legs as he pulls your thighs over his, pushing himself deeper now. "You always fly after me." He almost growls.
"I dunno.." You slur. "Management said." You just respond. Why does he seem so irritated by this? It's not a huge deal at all if you fly back sooner or later. He's not gonna call you up back home anyways, so why does it bother him so much.
"Management can go fuck themselves." He argues. "You fly after me. I'll book the flight myself if I have to." he demands practically, slight irritation causing him to have his energy boil up, position adjusted as he becomes more restless, balls smacking loudly against you cunt, pace a lot more ruthless now.
You're finally reaching it. Your head becomes fuzzy.
You don't notice Jungkook becoming almost.. satisfied from that sight of your tension finally leaving. You're nothing but whimpers of pleasure as he slips out of you, hands tugging and pushing your legs and body to have you on your side, the taller Idol now laying down on his side behind you to spoon you, dragging the head of his length through your soaked and slicked up folds. one hand holds up your thigh, helps in opening you up, though you're pretty much gaping from his girth stretching you out moments prior. His lips find your shoulder, your neck, as he pushes himself back inside with the help of your hands-
who suddenly do something new as well, tugging the condom from his cock, making him gasp out in sensitivity. "What're you doing?" He grows.
"IUD." You tell him. "Please-" You beg, and yet again he moves as if awakened from slumber, pushing you halfway on your stomach as he pushes the now bare head of his cock back inside you. This is most certainly new, and he knows for a fact, that he's never going back again.
"Fuck.." He almost laughs, leaning over you now, body covering yours as he just pushes himself in for a good moment, humming a sound of pleasure into your neck as he lets himself relish in the new sensation. "Ah-" He sighs out, before he clenches his jaw, thrusting hard as if to make sure your body will remember him for days to come.
It will. Sadly.
"God, fuck-!" He groans out, holding onto your body now, having turned you onto your side, hand reaching out adjust your arm so he can see your face. Your lips are parted, eyes closed in bliss, and he can't help but have his hand smack down onto your behind that's moving in a way that's way too inviting. He does it a second time, slap clearly heard as he smirks at the way you clench around his cock currently rearranging your insides. He moves your leg to rest over his shoulder, reaching even deeper, hand underneath your belly button pressing where he can faintly feel himself move.
No one can blame him for being absolutely obsessed with your body.
He can feel the way you begin to tighten, thighs shaking a little as you come undone, his hands moving your legs again to close them once more, holding them up, slipping out of your clenching cunt to push his cock right between your soft and wet thighs. it's enough for a moment, though you reach out to touch the tip poking through almost teasingly, making him laugh as he suddenly sighs out, groaning as he spills over your stomach and up your chest. You're breathing heavily, and don't notice you start to shiver, as he parts from you to turn on the light in the bathroom to clean up.
Aftercare is not really his thing- and you've come to accept that.
When you sit up, you stretch your arms in front of you, muscles slowly regaining strength as you wait for Jungkook to finish up, toilet flushing before he emerges again, shamelessly walking without underwear, gaze following you as you walk past him to use the bathroom yourself.
The moment you re-emerge to grab your clothes, he's sitting on the edge of the bed with his boxers back on, phone in his hand. "I booked the flight for you. Tomorrow at 12:30." He tells you as you slip back into your underwear, not bothering with the bra as you search for where he'd thrown your shirt. "Here." He offers- and you slip the garment on with a thanks, only noticing afterwards that that's not yours at all, oversized fabric reaching almost to your knees. "Cute." He comments way too quiet to be meant to be heard, so you don't mention it at all.
"Why is the flight-thing so important?" You wonder, slipping into your socks as he moves around to find the hotel room service menu.
"Because you always fly back after me." He repeats again, clearing his throat.
"…you already said that." You mumble to yourself, but he clearly hears you.
"Fuck alright, god damnit!" He whines in complaint, rolling his eyes. "If you were to fly back earlier, you'll run right into all the paparazzi and shit waiting for me. That's why you're meant to fly back later- so they're gone by the time you arrive." He explains, and you're stunned in the spot you're standing, watching him a bit confused.
So that's the reason?
"It's not like they know." You say, unsure why he's so adamant about it.
"Doesn't matter." He shakes his head. "I'm not having them jump you for whatever reason they might have." He denies, before he sits down in the seat near the window which blinds are shut. "Now what do you wanna eat?" He asks, and you shake your head.
"I'll eat something tomorrow morning." You deny, and he slumps back in his seat, eyes closed and tongue pushed against his cheek.
"What do you want to fucking eat, babe." He repeats, making sure to pronounce the petname before he looks at you with frustration.
"Nothing." You respond. "Are we done?" You ask him, and he shakes his head, setting the menu down before he crosses his arms.
"No." He denies. "What to they call you?" He asks, and you're not sure what he's getting at, shaking your head with brows furrowed in confusion.
"What're you talking about?" You ask, sitting down on the edge of the bed.
"What do they call you?" He repeats. "I heard what you talked about in the car when I left."
"How?" You ask baffled.
"Telepathy." He jokes without humor, before he scoffs to himself. "I called you to actually ask you if you wanted to eat something- but you must've accidentally accepted the call without looking, because I clearly listened in on a convo I wasn't supposed to hear." He explains. "Either way, I want an answer. What. Do. They. Call. You." He demands, and you sigh.
"Why does it matter?" You argue, searching for your leggings in the room- finding them over the armrest of the chair he's currently sitting in. "I'm your personal prostitute, just without the pay." You tell him, and it takes him a second to realize that that's your answer.
Suddenly, he wants you out the room.
Not because he doesn't want you here any longer, but because the guilt is eating him alive with ever second he has to look at you. Because the more he think about it, the more it becomes obvious to him that this really must look like just that to everyone. After all, he's just taking you with him apparently for sex, and he's become so comfortable in it that he didn't think about it any longer. It's what you want too, right?
Jungkook has never really learned how to convey his emotions properly. He doesn't know what it's like to fall in love, has no idea what to look out for. He likes spending time with you, and enjoys the sex to the point that he's been monogamous with only you for the past year or so. It's nice to be in a relationship, even though he knows this one isn't normal. It's still okay, because down the line, you understand each other. He likes you, he just doesn't want people to use that against him or you at some point- so he keeps your status to himself. No one needs to know you're a couple. Only you and him. Because.. you know that, right?
"You know that's not what you are to me, right?" He asks, and you shrug.
"Does it matter?" You ask. "It's none of my business who I am to you, or whoever you screw apart from me." You say.
"What?" He asks, crossed arms unraveling. "I'm not fucking anyone but you." He says.
"Cool." You say.
"Cool? That's it?" He argues. "How can you be so calm about everyone else telling you I'm apparently cheating on you?" He worries, and you're yet again confused.
"What're you talking about?" You ask. "That's got nothing to do with cheating." You say.
"No no no no whoa there. Stop for a second." He holds his hands out as if to soothe a raging crowd of people, looking at the carpet. "You- you do know we're in a relationship, right?" He asks you, and your face tells him everything he needs to know. "Oh my fucking god are you kidding me…" He complains into his hands, covering his face in frustration.
"How the hell was I supposed to know?" You say, now with your own arms crossed. "Jungkook, you rarely even talk to me when we're back home. You only take me with you when you've got something up overseas, you constantly tell people we're just friends, you've never even asked me out in the first place!" You argue.
"We've been fucking each other for almost a year, I thought it was obvious I liked you?!" He whines, looking at you with what you realize are tears brimming on his waterline. Why is he so emotional now? "Have you- did you see anyone other than me?" He asks quietly, and you shake your head.
"No." You deny.
"Okay. Fuck- okay." He takes a deep breath, swallows down his panic. "I like you. I don't- I've got no clue if it's love or not because I don't know, alright? But I like you, a lot, to the point where I want us to be something permanent." He tries to explain. "Just us. You and me." He underlines, and you shrug.
"Jungkook, it's not that easy." You sigh. "If this has been what you think a relationship is like, then we won't work out."
"Alright, then what do you need me to do?" He argues, not letting go. "God- fuck, tell me what do I have to do to make you stay?" He asks, voice cracking.
"Jungkook, calm down-" You start, but he shakes his head, swallows thickly, bottom lip quivering for just a second before he licks over it, pulls it in between his teeth.
"I can't-! Not when it sounds like you're gonna leave me-" He worries.
"I'm not, don't worry. I'll stay. Just.. breathe for a second, alright?" You ask, getting up to walk closer, pushing his shoulders back to force him out of his slumped over position. "Hey- okay?" You ask, and he instead pulls you closer, sits you onto his lap, before he clings onto you, resting his forehead in your shoulder. "Why do you never reach out to me when we're home? You're confusing me." You gently tell him, and he shrugs.
"I'm scared they'll see you." He sniffles. "If they do- they'll tear you apart." He sighs. "When we're out here, like this- I can just.. claim you're staff, whatever. But at home- I can't.. I don't know how to protect you." He shakes his head.
"You should've told me." You sigh, leaning into him. "I was hurt, you know?" You tell him.
"I'm sorry. Fuck, I'm so sorry." He apologizes, pulls you just a bit closer. "I don't know what to do." He whines.
"What if you just visit me instead?" You offer. "They don't know where I live. And my windows are all mirrored so no one can look inside." You tell him.
"…since when?" he asks, leaning away from you a little so that you can finally see his face again, eyes red, a stray tear escaping him that you wipe off.
"Since a few months ago? Jungkook you don't even know my apartment in the first place. You've never visited me at all, ever!" You laugh, and he sighs.
"I know, and I.. always wanted to, you know, visit you.. spend time with you but.." He runs a hand over his face.
"You're okay. We talked about it now." You nod, an action he copies. "I'll come back tomorrow morning and we can have breakfast together, okay?" You ask, but he shakes his head.
"No, you gotta stay." He denies. "I don't care if you don't like that, but I need you close tonight." He says.
"Never said I don't." You say. "You just seemed uncomfortable with it." You wonder.
"Because I snore!" He whines, throwing his head back. "I snore, I move a lot, I might cling to you at night or I sweat, or whatever the fuck- I'm not as perfect as I'm made out to be." He complains.
"Jungkook sorry, but what the fuck." You laugh, and he can't help but smile at the sight and sound of you happy. "You can fart and burp like whatever, and I'd still stay. You're human, I'm not perfect either!" You explain, but he shakes his head, leaning forwards to kiss your already blossoming bruises on your neck.
"No, you are." He says. "You're absolutely perfect." He argues.
"Not really." You deny.
"Stop arguing." He complains, squeezes your waist a bit.
"What're you gonna do about it?" You tease, and he looks up at you with a heated gaze.
"Get me nice n' hard and I'll show you." He responds, making you giggle with eyes rolling, as you lean back to tug him out of his underwear, a hiss leaving him. "Fuck, baby your hands are icy!" He laughs, leaning back to hold your legs so you don't slip off of his thighs.
"That's cause it's cold in here!" You joke back, warming your hands up on his already heated length, skin already flushed and swelling as the blood rushes back. His hands travel beneath the shirt you wear, softly grabbing at the flesh of your chest, making you get up to shed your underwear and get back onto his lap.
"Think you can ride me on this thing?" He asks, talking about the seat he's sitting in. "Kinda tired right now, won't lie."
"Huh, making me do all the work now?" You raise your brows. "And here I thought you wanted to take us seriously.." You sigh, attempting to joke- but he clearly doesn't take it as such, face becoming serious again.
"Lift your hips a little." He demands, and you do so- unsure what he's trying to do, before he spits into his hand once more, feeling you up between your legs to check if you're ready. You are- quickly slicking up at the thought of him, and he guides his length inside of you again, stretching you out once more, but this time, it's not just sex.
He refuses to move. He just helps you settle on his lap, but holds onto your hips, keeping you from moving. "Jungkook-" You whine, but he shakes his head, and pulls your face closer to kiss you.
"No, I wanna stay like this for a bit." He denies.
"But I thought we wanted to eat something later?" You ask, making him roll his eyes.
"I'm trying to be romantic here." He complains.
"By putting your dick inside me?" You ask.
"Well I don't know what else to do!" He whines. "I.. I don't really know how else to properly express.." He falls deep into thought for a second or two, before he finally says it. "I don't know how else to make sure you can.."
"..feel how much I love you."
You're quiet for a good while, watching how he rather looks at your neck than at you in particular, avoiding eye contact as he continues to move his hands back to your sides underneath your shirt. "Jungkook…" You mumble, and he cringes.
"Don't-" He sighs, clicks his tongue in irritation. "-don't pity me or something-" He begins.
"No no no I'm not pitying you I just-" You cut him off, now your hands holding his cheeks to force him to look at you. Because you just realized something in the things he's said earlier. "Remember how you said.. you want me to fly back after you?" You ask, and he nods.
"Yeah." He answers, his way warmer palms now taking yours from his face, holding them in his. "Of course."
"That's.. something that also shows that you care about me." You say. "Because, you didn't say that you were worried about someone spotting me and putting your career on the line- but that you were worried about me being in danger." You remind him, and he nods. "Or how you noticed my stomach growling, and wondered if I ate today." You giggle.
"I already wondered if you didn't- cause I didn't see you eat anything." He shrugs.
"See?" You hum towards him, running your hand through his hair. "That shows you care, too." You say.
"But I want you to feel it." He complains stubbornly. "I want you to.. feel the same as I do when I'm around you." He offers.
"Horny?" You ask, and he rolls his eyes, throwing his head back.
"That too-" He laughs. "But mostly.. just, I don't know." He takes a deep breath. "It's hard to explain. It's like chest constricts when I'm not around you. Whenever I'm home, I miss you so bad that I sometimes go to sleep early just to avoid giving in and calling you. I have to distract myself just to not think about you- and yet I still do, almost all the time." He sighs, tucking your hair behind your ears. "When I wake up.." He hums, hands moving to your shoulders. "When I do my morning routine.." He explains, letting his fingers travel over the length of your arms. "When I work out.." He continues. "When I go to bed. It doesn't matter at all." He shakes his head.
"You know you don't have to make up something just to make me stay, right?" You ask him, and at that, his eyes immediately snap back up to you, panic returning.
"I'm not." He denies instantly. "I'm really not-" he urges. "-how can I prove it?" He worries.
"You.. listen, it's not something that you can just clear up in a moment." You sigh. "It's gonna take time. We're basically starting from scratch here." You explain, and he nods.
"Do you.. should we stop then?" He asks, glancing between your bodies for a second. "Until you believe me?" He wonders, and you shrug, before you shake your head.
"No." You deny. "I'd miss you too much-" You tell him, before you adjust your legs, arms around his neck. "-And you'd probably go insane without sex." You tease.
"Not without sex." He denies, watching how you begin to move your hips, letting him slip out until just the very tip remains inside you. "But without you." He clarifies. "It's not sex I want- that's a… I don't know. It's the closeness I feel, you know?" He sighs when you sink back down. "I just like touching you.. being inside you.." He hums, eyes fluttering closed as he leans back into the seat while your hands settle on his shoulders to keep you balanced, pace slow but fast enough to intensify the pleasure you both feel. "Just like that.." He sighs out in bliss.
"I have a really nice couch, you know?" You hum towards him, making him smile while his hands find your waist. "My bed is really big too.." You tell him, and he opens his eyes a little at that.
"Big enough for two?" He wonders, and you shrug.
"Guess we have to find out." You tease, and he nods, hands moving from your waist to your hips before one of them finds your heat between your legs where he can see his cock disappearing inside you.
"Is the couch sturdy?" He wonders, fingers playing with your clit now, making the muscles in your thighs twitch.
"Ah- yes!" You whine, picking up your pace.
"Hm, gonna fuck you on it then." He chuckles. "Stress-test it." He jokes, and you whimper as you come undone, your slick now coating his own legs, strings of the sticky fluid keeping you both connected, wet sounds echoing off the walls of the hotel room. "Break it." He growls, heels on the ground helping him in shifting his hips upwards into you, catching you off guard, your orgasm washing over you in a wave threatening to drown you.
You're shaking, but you still move, needing to feel him reach his high as well, and he does find his own release, spilling whatever he's got left to give, holding you close, kissing whatever skin he can reach from how you're hugging him now, breathing slowly easing again.
And he keeps you like this, uncaring of the food since it's by now too late to order any roomservice anyways.
And for the first time, he actually sleeps next to you, in the same bed-
promising himself to do everything he can to keep you this close, for now and as long as you'll have him.
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copperbadge · 9 months
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As someone who's very conscious of individual fundraising, between my job and my work with Radio Free Monday, I'm seeing an uptick lately in something that I want to talk about. But it's sensitive, so I'm asking you all to read this in the spirit of help, and understand that any negative tone you take away from this is not my intention.
We live in communities: neighborhood, friends groups, workplaces, fandoms. Part of the point of community is that we help others in that community. But there's an aversion to the idea of non-reciprocal aid, of accepting financial help that won't be repaid. And on the one hand I understand; nobody wants to be perceived as a freeloader. But I don't think we can move past the idea of transactive relationships, an ultimately capitalist idea of how we relate to others, until we stop stigmatizing it, even when we're the beneficiaries of it.
I see a lot of "normally I would never ask for help" and "I hate to ask for money" and "I'd rather die than accept charity but" and I'm sure that's true. But...you don't need to say it.
If someone is inclined to give, it doesn't matter. If someone isn't inclined to give, it doesn't help. Charitable giving on the individual level is not a sales situation. There is no magic combination of words that will induce someone to give if they weren't going to. And the more we protest that normally we wouldn't accept, the more we loudly imply that there is shame in asking, the longer it will take us to achieve a compassionate and supportive society.
And also, frankly, you're making other people feel like shit for asking too. Which I know is not something anyone wants.
If you need to ask for money that sucks and I'm sorry. I've been there and it's a real bind to be in. But I also know that in those situations energy is short, and this is one less thing to expend energy on -- instead of protesting your aversion to asking, put that energy into doing one thing to make it easier for folks to give -- make your payment app username a hyperlink or a QR code, or make a carrd with your giving options and link that.
Instead of "I would never ask for money normally" say "I know there are many kind people out there who will see this." Instead of "I hate to make this post" say "You all understand how difficult life can get." The nonprofit world has done a lot of studying of what makes people give, and positivity is a huge aspect of it. Opening with a negative, particularly a negative that people see constantly in other solicitations, is more likely to hurt your chances than to help.
Don't follow a script that continues to debase and abuse you. Mainly because it's not actually helping; there's no upside to prostrating yourself before an imaginary combative donor. Talk to the people who are actually likely to give, who recognize themselves in your words when you talk about kindness and compassion and who don't need you to shame yourself in order to be worthy of support. This is not to scold or shame anyone further, but to offer an alternative that is kinder to you and more helpful to the people who want to help.
Do yourselves and your fellow sufferers the kindness of dignity; lord knows you've had enough unkindness already.
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ms-demeanor · 7 months
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Also I have to say "but bands are using AI art for their album covers" is not a winning argument.
That band wasn't going to pay you. That band was going to beg somebody's artist brother for a freebie or they were going to have the people in the band who can kind of draw draw something or they were going to use a moody photo someone took with their cellphone. Best possible scenario is "they were going to trade for something from someone in the scene," and this is still the most likely scenario for bands that *give a shit* about that kind of thing.
And I've been the one doing freebie artwork for my musician friends; I've made album covers and done promo shoots, I've drawn logos and I've got a standing offer to make buttons for the cost of materials for every band I've ever played a show with. The people who give a shit in the scene are already doing this because everybody knows that everybody's broke.
I'm certain that there's not *zero* overlap between "bands that can afford to pay artists and photographers to create album artwork" and "bands that are using AI art for their album covers" but if you think "indie musician" is a demographic that has money to spare on commissioned artwork, I'm pretty sure you're mistaken.
Like. Okay, I mean my *big* argument is that AI image generation is fair use, full stop.
But the secondary argument that I've got is that I'm not sure there's a market to have the bottom fall out of.
The person making shitty covers for their amazon romance novel was not going to pay you. They were going to pay someone on fiverr eight dollars *at best* and that's only if they couldn't find a way to DIY.
That band that's trying desperately to sell ten tickets so they can play a show at the cool venue was not going to pay you to do their cover art. Their last fifty bucks just went to covering those tickets because their friends aren't even coming to their free shows. They were going to stage a photoshoot with a cellphone and a timer and someone's sister's selfie stick.
That person who made an AI avatar was not going to pay you for a custom avatar they were going to take a screenshot of your work and use that.
The people who are able to afford to pay artists and who are interested in paying artists are not the people who are replacing artists with AI. The t-shirt dropshippers, the shitty book cover designers, the bland corporate artists, and the art reposting instagram pages were the ones who undercut your market.
If you're concerned that someone is going to use AI to make art that is materially similar to yours and sell it, you're just concerned that someone is going to make art that is materially similar to yours to sell. The concerns about AI doing it are functionally exactly the same as what happens when someone says "wow, I want that on a t-shirt" under your drawing. If someone were to draw a character similar to but distinct from yours with words similar to but distinct from yours and put a link to that on a reblog of your post, that person is not actually infringing on you. They're a shithead, but that's not actually art theft. If they used your character and your words, or if they directly copy the image, that's art theft and you can try to get their post taken down. It's the exact same thing with AI.
The people who care about art and can afford to pay for it are always going to pay for it. Your problem isn't with AI, your problem is with the fact that people don't value art and that's as true now as it was a decade ago.
You are trying to sell a complicated, crocheted sundress made with 100% hand-dyed alpaca wool on Etsy and are complaining that the loose knit acrylic sundress from walmart is undercutting your market. Some people are always going to make the effort to save up and pay for your work because they value the craftsmanship, but those people didn't want to shop at WalMart in the first place. And the ones who value your craftsmanship but just plain can't afford it were going to dig through the bins at a thrift store until they found a crocheted swim cover from the seventies that they could pass off as a dress with a few alterations.
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fairyhaos · 1 year
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✰ seventeen as boyfriends: seungcheol edition
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event taglist (send ask to be added): @rubywonu @cinnamoroxie @belladaises @wheeboo @minhui896 @slytherinshua @kokoiinuts @jun-of-love
pairing: seungcheol x gn!reader
genre: fuff, headcanon, mini scenario
word count: 538 (gonna try n make them all around the 500 mark)
warnings: one curse word
notes: seungcheol edn. for the 500 event
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quite possibly the most chivalrous boyfriend to ever exist, actually
holds your bag for you while you're walking, moves you to the inside of the pavement so you're not walking next to cars, always opens the door and lets you walk in first
is practically all melty eyed and adoring as he watches you do Anything at all
looks at you like you’re the sun, all wide-eyed and soft with that little half-smile on his face that becomes wider as he descends into giggles when you say or do something that he finds utterly endearing
pls this man is the most whipped when he's in love
also oscillates WILDLY between being the cockiest lil shit ever and the shyest most flustered person you've met whenever he's trying to compliment you
"Cheol, how do I look?"
"You look—oh wow, uh, it's—you look… great? Like, um, nice."
"Seriously?"
"Okay, you look absolutely gorgeous and I don't think I've ever felt more in love with you than I do right now."
"I—"
insists that you text him to tell him you've gotten home safely after every date. panicked and called everyone you knew when one time you forgot and accidentally fell asleep
puts so much effort into planning things for date milestones and birthdays and celebrations even if you tell him you're content with just a quiet day w him, bc he loves to spoil you and he knows that your eyes will light up so wonderfully when you see the new and incredible thing he's planned for you this time
treats you as if you're his entire world, listens to you so intently, holds you like you're something so precious and at the same time like he never wants to let you go. 
because he never does, you know. you really are his world. 
when seungcheol loves, he loves with his whole heart. 
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"Cheol?"
Seungcheol hums, looking up at you from the sofa. He opens his arms, and you immediately fall into them, head against his chest. "What is it, baby?"
"Why do you love me?”
He's a little taken aback by the sudden question, but there's something quiet and unsure in your voice, so he softens and smiles. 
"Well..." he begins thoughtfully, "I love you because you're you."
You sniff, disappointed. "That's such a terrible answer."
Seungcheol laughs. "But it's true. I love you because you laugh at my stupid jokes, and you make me laugh at yours. I love you because you've helped me get through life and be where I am now, and I've helped you too. I love you because you've done all these things, and so much more."
He presses a kiss to your forehead. "I love you because it's you who's done all these things with me, and for me. Not anyone else, but you. I love you for loving me."
You're not looking at him, more focused on playing with his fingers on the armrest, but he smiles down at you anyway, and he knows the fondness is tangible in his gaze. 
"I love you, Y/N. Always."
That makes you smile, looking up at him finally, and your eyes are sparkling and he really, really does love you. "I love you too."
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matrixbearer2024 · 3 months
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I Hate Mondays
Vox x CollegeStudent!Reader
A/N: This interlude was probably WAAAAAY overdue- but here it is! I was thinking of how to continue though eventually decided to let Vox kind of just deal with the whiplash of his chill downtime with you and his chaotic somewhat unhealthy workplace. I didn't want to really include conflict, just him again dealing with things he has come to realize but not entirely accept- it's Vox, when will he actually genuinely accept that he'd fallen fast and fallen hard for someone because they treated him like a decent human being? Either way, it's mostly fluffy stuff for now before I add your interlude idea requests into the story soon :)
A/N: I've also seen people sometimes write Vox with a little bit of an impostor syndrome, so a lot of his doubts and anxieties will kind of be reflected in this interlude. It'll all be okay though I promise! Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy and happy reading!
There's a saying that everyone hates Mondays.
Manic mondays, monday blues, monday's monster, etc.
And for Vox, after the weekend he's had with you?
That saying couldn't have been more true.
From a relaxed and chill two days, back into an insanely stressful and borderline chaotic work environment.
And as he stared at the stack of documents in front of him-
He didn't even want to begin.
The overlord would've repeatedly hit his head against the table if it didn't risk cracking his screen.
The last thing he needed was to worry you because of something stupid.
"VOX! I NEED YOUR HELP WITH THIS!"
"VOX! I NEED YOU TO DO THAT!"
"VOX! GIVE ME THIS THING!"
"VOX!"
"VOX!"
"VOX!"
Left, right and center-
His colleagues were definitely not short of any demands.
And it was slowly driving him insane from frustration.
They could be asking quite literally anybody else, but no.
They just had to bother him.
And the overlord was just in no mood to deal with the chaos right now.
With his packed schedule full of broadcasts and meetings-
Vox's patience was really running thin.
It got to the point where simply chose to ignore the other Vees after a while.
Not responding to their calls or texts as he holed himself up in his monitor room.
Was his daily life really this crazy?
It's such a jarring change from how he felt like during that weekend with you-
So much so that he was really having trouble believing it.
Still, he threw himself into work.
As the king of technology in pentagram city often would-
And he completely lost track of time.
So after a while just staring and tabulating some analytics on the many screens in front of him-
The last thing he expected to see was a notification from your chat to pop up.
"Hey, how you feeling? You seemed kinda off on your broadcast earlier."
Vox wasn't thinking of replying to you, he only noticed what he'd done after a reply was sent anyway.
"Color me surprised, I didn't think anyone would notice!"
He really had to stop reacting to you first and just think about it.
Still, his fingers were already flying across the keyboard before he could stop them.
"Vox, it's me. Of course I would notice. Did something happen?"
"Nothing out of the ordinary doll, just getting used to the grind again."
He cringed slightly reading that message over, did he really just send that to you?
You could be laughing at his poor attempt of using new slang for all he knew.
"That is how you use that word right?"
"Yeah it is lol. Can you drop by the hotel later when you're free? I know you're busy so it's okay whenever."
That made his heart skip a beat, something the overlord slightly berated himself for.
Sure, he'd come to the realization that he did in fact love you to some degree.
But it's not without clear hesitation.
He could very well be mistaken anyway.
You were just... friendly like that.
Yeah. Friendly.
"Why'd you ask? Miss me already dollface?"
"Don't be an idiot. I just wanna hang out with you."
Vox found himself needing to read your message over a few times after you sent that.
He still couldn't quite understand why you liked spending so much time with him.
Time was valuable and time was money.
At least in the literal sense when it came to his occupation.
And still you just wanted to spend yours with him.
Him.
No wonder Alastor made a jab at you having a bad taste in companions.
He was... not really the best in hindsight.
Not that he'd ever admit that fact, his pride wouldn't allow it.
But in regards to you?
You definitely deserved better than what you got.
"Besides, you need to take breaks from your work every now and then. Vel's been texting me nonstop that you already look like shit."
The overlord couldn't help but chuckle from the irony of that statement.
Velvette, though not as much as a certain moth, still contributed to his stressful day.
But it was still nowhere near as bad.
Vox dreaded having to go out and deal with the irate pimp again.
Another tantrum, maybe a screaming fest even?
His mood was souring even more just thinking about it.
"Actually, did you eat anything at all today? Or do you just skip your meals you workaholic TV demon?"
"That's pretty rude dollface."
"Am I wrong though? Anyway, answer the question Samsung."
Now how should he answer this?
It took one glance at his internal clock to confirm he'd actually skipped both breakfast and lunch.
Well, he didn't think you'd count just drinking coffee a good breakfast.
Would you really get upset enough to storm Vee tower if he replied honestly?
Actually you would- Vox wouldn't put it against your chaotic nature-
Hm... maybe he could lie to you just this once.
"I'm fine doll, seriously. Don't worry about it."
The overlord tiredly sighed.
He had another broadcast in a few minutes, whether or not he felt up to it.
It didn't help that there was this... heavy feeling in his gut that wasn't there earlier.
Was he feeling guilty...?
For lying to you?
And it wasn't even really a lie, just- an omission of some details.
A hand flew up to cover his screen, kind of like a facepalm.
You really have changed him, and he didn't catch it until too late.
"Vox, I worry about you regardless. When you throw your job into it as well, then all the more I'm concerned that you're not taking good care of yourself. I know what it's like to get lost in responsibilities, just... be more mindful of yourself okay?"
For someone who wasn't supposed to care, wasn't supposed to get close to anyone unless it had advantages-
The overlord couldn't help but feel genuinely touched reading your message.
Sure, you'd sent similar things before and even told him outright at times-
But it always had the same effect.
You cared about him, probably to the extent he unknowingly did for you.
Whether it was intentional or not, he found himself just a little bit happier because of it.
Most of the world he'd built up around himself was fake anyway, smiles and all.
So this little shot of genuine care...
Really struck him.
Though just as that train of thought went and left the station-
Vox just as quickly put a stop to it.
That fuzzy feeling in his chest had bloomed once again and he wanted none of it.
Well, more like he couldn't bring himself to continue entertaining it.
It was probably fine when the both of you were simply oblivious.
But now he felt like he needed to make a conscious effort to stop falling for you more.
Lest he risk wrecking everything just because he'd guessed wrong.
What would you see in a guy like him anyway?
"I will, thanks dollface. Anyway, I have a broadcast in a few minutes so I'm afraid I'll have to cut this short."
"It's fine go and do what you need to do, just drop by any time you need to okay? I'll be here."
Your flatscreen companion couldn't help but smile from your words.
Again, the way you treated him was just so... different from everything he was used to.
His tech empire, his company, his power and status-
It didn't matter to you.
Not at all when you were alive, and it clearly even carried over now that you were here.
How you could be so nonchalant about everything, Vox wouldn't ever understand.
Nor would he probably be able to comprehend.
But that wasn't really much of an issue compared to other things he felt towards you.
"I will. Thanks doll."
With that reply, the overlord went and got ready for his final broadcast of the day.
And it went as one would've expected.
Totally sideways off the rails and into a burning trash heap.
Fucking Mondays.
The broadcast itself would seem fine to the viewers, but behind the cameras?
It was practically a shitfest cranked up to eleven.
The cameras were rolling as usual and Vox was playing up his typical telecaster charm-
When Valentino decided to show up and throw a hissy fit then and there.
Sure, the viewers saw none of the chaos or madness-
But you knew something was up with your TV headed companion when his smile looked a little bit too strained on air.
It's not something everyone else would notice, but you would.
You always did.
And you were proven right when you heard some knocking on glass.
Ah.
There he was.
Vox was somehow sitting on one of the many ledges and railings that encompassed the hotel, it just so happens that this one was close to your room.
Didn't his broadcast just air?
You quickly shook off the surprise and confusion to open the window.
"Vox? What are you-"
"It's been a long day, wasn't in the mood to see the others. Just you."
"Then get in here, wanna talk about it?"
When your companion shook his head, that's when you knew his day was probably upside down when it came to anything going right.
Not to mention that for once, he actually dropped by and looked quite as bad as he felt.
His bow tie was undone, his shirt was untucked and messy-
Plus his coat and striped vest were nowhere to be seen.
Probably left at the tower you'd guess.
"Dude, you look like shit."
Vox rolled his eyes at you with a chuckle, moving to sit down on the floor while leaning back against the edge of your bed.
You would've told him to just sit on the mattress itself- but he probably wanted to lean on something so you just joined him.
"I've been told, almost nothing went right today."
"Guess that's why they call it a manic Monday huh?"
You both shared an odd look before laughing.
Of course it would be the stupid joke to lighten the mood.
But that was always how you both broke the ice, and if it works- it works.
"Perhaps, but I don't think it was ever this tiring before."
You simply shrugged, leaning your head on his shoulder and staring out in front of you.
Vox subconsciously moved an arm around you when he did.
He was way too tired to really care or stop himself though.
"Maybe it never was, or maybe you just got used to it. Vel did tell me that you never really took a break before you met me."
"Seriously? What else does she spill about me then?"
"Nothing too important, just that you're a whole lot different from how you were two years ago."
When your companion let out a thoughtful hum, that's when you knew he agreed.
Funnily enough, Vox wouldn't say much of anything when he was actually giving something a lot of thought.
So the fact he wasn't really talking as much as usual also spoke volumes to you about his state of mind.
Because as annoying as his comments and charming jokes could be sometimes-
It was fundamentally what made Vox well- Vox.
Which made him just shooting short replies and sentences a little bit more concerning.
"Hey, can I give you a hug?"
"What? Why would you need to ask that? You've already hugged me before."
"I know, but this time it genuinely looks like you really need a hug. This is different from the ones when we just joke around."
You almost wanted to smack your overlord companion when he just gave you a confused look.
Granted, this was hell so what the both of you shared was no short of peculiar.
But the point still stands-
Had no one ever given this idiot an actual hug before?
"Look, just tell me if something feels wrong okay?"
Vox didn't really know how to respond to any of your words.
What made your hugs from before so different from now?
Though when he'd suddenly found you straddling his lap, the overlord bit back a surprised noise.
What the fuck were you doing?!
He found himself tensing a little when you laid your head on his chest, your arms encircling behind him as well.
Oh what the hell was this-
"Just relax you weirdo, I don't bite."
You calmly laid there and listened to his pulse, it was a little faster than you'd hoped for but didn't mind.
The gentle hum of his circuits reminded you of a working desktop computer, which you found a little silly considering he was supposed to have a TV for a head.
Again with the bionic biology- you were getting more than curious-
Eventually though, Vox did calm down enough to actually live in the moment.
The smell of your shampoo, how warm and soft you were-
His arms moved of their own accord and reciprocated your hug.
His posture slackened and the overlord found himself properly relaxing with you.
It was just so... calm right now.
And he was so so tired.
What he would give to just be like this with you every day.
The next time you looked up to check on Vox, you saw his screen dimmed and a screensaver of his company logo just bouncing around the edges of his face.
Ah, so that's where he got it from.
You wondered what it was ever since he slapped it onto your laptop-
You couldn't help but smile when the reality finally hit that the tech overlord had fallen asleep during your cuddle session.
Sure, he was probably really tired-
But he trusted you enough to just let go and relax.
That made your heart swell with joy.
He didn't need to say anything about his day for you to know he needed comfort.
After all, he could tell you about it when he was ready to.
You did wonder why emotional comfort was such an odd concept to Vox-
But it was something you were more than willing to teach him.
Besides, you both had eternity down here in hell.
So you had all the time to spend giving your flatscreen companion the care he deserved.
Your pleasant thought bubble popped when you heard a weird noise from the overlord though.
When it happened again, you didn't take more than a second to connect the dots.
Especially given how late it was into the evening.
Did this idiot even eat anything today?!
No wonder he dodged your question earlier!
You'd let him sleep a little longer but you would wake him for dinner.
Seems like you were totally right to worry about this habits.
Stupid workaholic TV.
He was lucky you liked him.
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tan1shere · 7 months
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Slumber Party
Ellie williams x fem reader!
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A/n: Hello my lovelies, first post on here (more active on wattpad) but thought I'd occasionally post here when I'm bored. If you have any requests at all they're definitely open! Also this is kinda short but I don't plan on making the next part as short. Enjoyyyy ☆°•
My masterlist
Summary: like the song slumber party. Ellie thinks she can treat you better then your shitty girlfriend
Warnings: smut, (not in this chapter) read at your own risk (mdni) Dom but soft, protective, ellie! Reader is quite innocent, is very soft also. Cunnilingus (duh- also not in this chapter) your girlfriend in this is an asshole. Abuse, somewhat angst, crying. Lmk if there was anything else!
Pt 2 here! ~ pt 3 here!
Ellie hated Isabel, your girlfriend. She treated you horribly, and Ellie really hated when you'd bawl your eyes out over the phone to her whenever Isabel would storm out of your shared apartment. She hated the fact anyone would make you cry. She never liked seeing you unhappy. Isabel shared this hatred. She never liked you hanging around Ellie, even if you have known Ellie almost all your life. She would scold you after everytime you and her would hang out. You'd come back to the apartment smiling. "What're you smiling about?" You just smile more happy to tell. "Ellie she makes the funniest jo-" "I don't like you being round her Y/n." You would always stare blankly at her, struggling to find the words, leaving your mouth open while you ponder.
Today was not off to a great start. Ellie had just been over, you two were having such a great time. "I should probably get going squirt." She would flash her smile at you, ruffling your hair slightly, as she stood to go to the door. Ellie was a bit older then you, and come to think of it so was Isabel. Let's just say you had a thing for older ladies. (Only by like 6 years) You also stand up, seeing her out and saying goodbye. But as you open the door you're met woth those dark brown eyes. Isabel had just arrived back from work. She glares at the auburn haired girl, making her way inside. "Well hi to you too." Ellie scoffs then looks at you. "Text you when im home." You give her a small nod and a smile before she leaves to her car. You turn around to be faced with a stern Isabel. "You know how I feel about her being in our home. Especially when I'm not here." You never really talk back to Isabel you always apologize and go into the kitchen to make food. She was truly a bitch and she started showing her true colors the moment you two moved in together. You never understood what you would do so wrong. You made every dinner. Every lil food she'd want. The laundry. Just to please her. And although it'd work, it'd never last. "I'm sorry Iz.. She just really wanted to show me this art she was working on and in person. Nothing more I swear." She let's out a scoff. "Why should I believe you it's almost every day you spend with her. It's sickening and pathetic." You stare at her as she says that. She would always make you feel stupid. When in fact you were quite smart you knew what most things meant. Maybe not so much bedroom stuff. But you were book smart nonetheless. Speaking of bedroom. You were basically a virgin. You've kissed Isabel many times done a lil something here and there but it was definitely not much. So you were certainly not confident on that subject. Although Ellie would tell you all sorts of stories about the girls she's been with. It fascinated you to learn all these new terms and what everything was. "I promise to talk to you before hand next time-" She instantly cuts you off. "Why are you still standing here. Cook, I've been working all day." She spits going to your guys shared bedroom. You sigh doing so. And that was your life.
It was maybe a couple weeks after, you had felt like you were coming down with something so you decided that bed rest was the best thing. It was now 3 in the afternoon. You were sleeping in your bed when the door busted open. "What the fuck are you still doing in bed it's almost 4!" Isabel was home and not happy. You sit up a bit. "Yes I know I'm sorry bu-" She drops her bags. "This place is a mess, there's dishes out. Foods not even ready. Laundry is still in the hamper. What fucking else." You look at her softening your look. "Iz, I'm sorry- I woke up feeling horrid so I decided to stay in bed." She shakes her head. "Even when I have the worst headache known to man I still get my ass up and work. You know all that sweet money, I work for that. And you work here that is your job." This was one of the moments were you'd feel bad for yourself. Weak. Weaker right now considering you're sick. You look down at the sheets. "Are you even listening to me? You spoiled brat." She doesn't do what she does next often but when she does you know you're in the shit. She hits you. Hard. "Wonder why I have a headache all the time. It's you and your whiney voice. Look at how pathetic you are." She glares down at your drowsy figure. You feel tears finally sting as you had held them in. Refusing to let yourself be so weak, but you give in. Feeling overwhelmed with emotions right now. "What the fuck are you gunna be like when I go away in a few weeks huh? You better keep this place spotless you know about the cameras. I'll be watching you." Yes. The oh so lovely cameras. They're only in the kitchen, living room and laundry. The only places you slave away at. "I will iz I promise." She hums. "I'll believe it when i see it. I needa go out and grab some stuff. Make sure dinners ready when I get back." She says before getting her keys and leaving. You then sob. Letting it all out as you shakily grab your phone going to the only person who knows how to comfort you. Ellie.
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When she arrives not long after, giving a honk. You go outside and get in the passenger seat. "Off anywhere?" You shake your head. "No that's alright. I don't want to get yelled at.." Ellie sighs. "Bub, you can't keep letting her treat you like this-" "if I left I'd have nowhere to go Els.." She keeps looking at you. "Yes you do. Mine." You let out a small breath looking down at your hands. "Everythings so messy." She nods, even if you can't see. "I know angel but my offer still and will forever stand. I think you should take it." You just wipe the small tears forming at your eyes. "How was your day?" She hates how you change the subject. She always has. She wants to talk about it with you more. Comfort you more. "Pretty easy going. Do you want a hug love?" You shake your head. "Its best if you don't come near me right now-" "I promise it's not gunna affect me if you cry. You know that." You nod. "I know, but I'm sick- thats why she yelled at me.." She furrows her brows. "She got mad at you because you weren't feeling well? What a fucking bitch." You sigh, in the midst of a slight cough. "Angel you should go back in and rest. Let me help-" You immediately shake your head. "She'd know you were there. I- I couldn't risk that." You always felt awful. Not because you got yelled at but because she would want to pick a fight with Ellie too. Ellie was older then Iz too, more mature. Never bought into her crap. "I'll make sure she doesn't yell at you, you really need rest you work your ass off-" You stop her talking. "I don't want her to try anything with you Els." She shakes her head. "She won't. I promise just let me make you some soup and tuck you in. Please, just that." You contemplate whether or not you should but you nod regardless.
She was making the soup trying to be as speedy in hopes she wouldn't bump into Isabel. "Here you go. Say you made it for yourself. I also cleaned a lil." She sends you a wink. And when she says a lil she means the whole lot. "Els, you seriously didn't have to." She smiles gently. "No but I wanted to. I also made something else. Knowing grump would be hungry when she gets back." You look at her so thankful. "You have no idea how much I appreciate you." She gives you a kiss on the head. "Call if you need anything else. I love you." She says while looking in your eyes. "I love you too Els." You respond sweetly. Oh how stupid you were to realize how INlove she was with you. But she plans to show you sooner or later. As she's the one you should truly, be with.
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easy-there-leftovers · 8 months
Note
Hiii can I just say I’m OBSESSED with ISY,D!! Amazing work truly the best ❤️
I saw asks are open so I thought I’d slip in a little prompt 👀
Astarion and Tav have a bit of a spat at camp. Tav is trying to convince Astarion that ascending would make him just as bad as Cazador, but Astarion craves the power and the freedom. Tav, upset and frustrated, ends up leaving for a walk through the late night streets of the gate to clear their head. One of the vampire spawn out looking for their next prey find Tav, recognizing them immediately as Astarion’s love (and one true weakness) and kidnaps them to bring to Cazador. Cazador, being the sick fuck he is, locks Tav away and sends a note to Astarion that he finds the next morning, saying that he had Tav and that if Astarion wants them back he has to surrender to Cazador and go through with the ceremony. Astarion loses his mind and races to the castle with the gang in tow, praying that Tav is unharmed. Will he be there just in time to save Tav? Or will he be too late, will Cazador have already turned them by the time he gets there?
Sorry for the paragraph but this has been in my mind for DAYS and I would cry if you could make this story come to fruition ❤️
-🌸
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Hello 🌸anon!! Thank you so much for liking the series, I'm glad that it's something that you enjoy reading! Also, I've decided to include @simp-4-astarion's request as they were rather similar in nature!! Thank you so much for liking my work :,DDD
In addition!! Just a heads up for people who'd like to request or send an idea in, I don't just write for Astarion! Feel free to include your favorite romanceable pcs (and non romanceable npcs lol) into the mix!!
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That night at camp had been fraught with tension, like a fraying rope ready to snap. The campfire crackled, the tongues of the flame dancing and flickering about, mirroring the storm within the heated pair.
Your voice, something that he's come to find solace in as of late, quivered with frustration unlike any he's heard directed at him before as you tried to reason with him.
"I don't relish it. but my," He pauses, wondering what he should call them. "--Siblings lured thousands of people to their death over the years. I doubt Baldur's Gate would miss any of them." He seems rather taken with the idea, and you worry about what this could mean for him.
"But we don't even know if it's possible, Astarion. You're hypothesizing that you become the Vampire Ascended at the expense of eradicating the other spawn." Whether or not they had done things as horrendous as your,-- gods you don't even know what you are,-- as the ex-magistrate, they did not deserve to be subjected to such a ritual.
He paces around you, ascertaining your reactions, and making quick work to think about how he could convince you
"And so what? I've obviously thought about it. If I completed the ritual, this evocation, I'd have insurmountable power. And--" He nears himself to you, practically whispering the following words into the skin of you neck. As if anything he said would etch its way into your skin and carve you anew.
"I could walk in the sun without fear of becoming a mindflayer. Don't you want that for me, darling? For us?" The question instills an indescribable fear in you. Not the same fear that's been riddling you as you wonder if you'd perish in one of your many battles, but the fear you'd witness when you lost something dear to you.
It's as if he's giving you an out.
Agree with him, and you seal his fate as the Vampire Ascendant with a sure place at his side.
Or disagree, allowing all those spawn the same chance he had been given all those tendays ago, and snuff out whatever growing relationship you had between you.
He senses your uncertainty. And he feels lost. He figured that you would be so sure to keep him at your side. Doing anything it takes to make sure it stays that way, but now you're getting cold feet with his blatant proposal of companionship because of what?
These monsters he's hunted with?
These damned spawn that represent everything you've seeked to correct about the world?
"Astarion, please, give them a chance. They were just like you once, give them that much."
At any other time, he would've admired your efforts to help them. But in this moment, he thinks you a fool who could never truly understand what it means to be a slave and to want for power.
"You did not know them. And you do not know me as well as you may think, my dear, if you think they deserve a chance more than I do."
He doesn't know why it all happened the way it did. The way that his thoughts came tumbling out of his mouth and only allowing the worst of things to escape him.
All he knows was that it had surely hurt you and that he doesn't think he's ever seen your retreating form look as small as it did as you walked towards somewhere in the city.
And that he wished he had remembered where they were. So near to where his consanguines and he used to hunt.
So when he and the others are greeted with a letter smelling of undeath, telling them that they had their precious leader imprisoned in Cazadaor's manor, he knows not to tell them about the little argument you two had.
Knows not to tell them anything to dampen their mood as they search for you.
Knows not to tell them that the likelihood he kept you alive was slim to none, now that he has Astarion's attention.
Once they had been alerted of your whereabouts, a clear ploy to lure him back to his master, there would be no use for you anymore. They don't know Cazador like he did, and he was sure that by the time they reached their destination, you would be no more.
Stil, he's willing to take any chance he can get to get you back. No use in proclaiming you dead if he hasn't seen you, and he'd be damned if he let Cazador take any more from him.
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Text
What did you just say? Pt. 2.
Aegon x FEM reader.
Aegon confronts his mother, the truth leaves his mouth as the fire leaves the snout of his dragon. To his surprise you don't share the same desires of being with him anymore.
Warning: maybe it wasn't as good as the first part lol. Grammatical and spelling errors, maybe a Dark obsessed Aegon at the end but nothing very serious.
Credits of these gifs to whoever they belong to
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(...) The goblet In his hand flew to the other side of the room, tension filled the room, silence was uncomfortable, then, Aegon simply asked.
- What did you just say?
Poor servant, avoiding Aegon's look, he simply muttered and kneeled down.
- I... Said lady y/n is pregnant... please Forgive me my king, I beg for your pardon.
Aegon didn't understand why the servant was apologizing, he only rolled his eyes, he was furious, fire was running through his body.
- Get up and leave. ALL OF YOU, LEAVE! I need to talk with my mother. NOW!
Everybody left the room in an instant, Alicent was in the same place, she didn't move but was also avoiding to see her son.
- Look at me and tell me you didn't know about this, mother.
She looked at him but was speechless, there were no words.
- TELL ME YOU DIDN'T!
She felt fear, she was always behind him, she was always the one who reprimanded him, but right now, she's feeling like a little kid In trouble.
- Aegon, you have to understand...
- Understand what? Is it not enough that we're all dragged into this unhappy family, full of hypocrisy and sadness for all your decisions? Your decisions had taken us to misery, my sister is right, if you weren't so blind and full of hate against Rhaenyra our story would be different.
- This, is totally unfair, You have no idea of the sacrifices that were made to put you on that throne.
- A throne I never asked for! This is all your Father wants! You've been so blind, thinking you're doing all this because of the safety of the crown, your family and the kingdom when In fact, it is only that old man's desire, to see his own blood sitting on that stupid chair!
- ENOUGH!.
Aegon's point of view wasn't totally wrong, he always saw his grandfather as a spider knitting its web waiting for its prey, like a moth attracted to the brilliant things, waiting for the right moment to get inside and be around the warm and brightest light, an opportunist, that's how Aegon secretly always described his grandfather. He sighed, clearly annoyed.
-...When did you receive the news of her marriage?
- Months ago, I received a letter when she was betrothed to him... and later another one arrived with the news of her wedding, but I can promise you that I don't know nothing about her pregnancy, I doubt she is pregnant.
Her words are honest but not reassuring enough to calm Aegon.
- Do you see me, mother? Do you see how painful it is for me? This marriage with my own sister, this crown over my head that I never wanted. Your decisions had been brought pain not only for me but for my siblings too. You hate Rhaenyra for all the things you consider wrong and improper , but I've done all of them too, and you hide them and pretend we're the good ones, it's pure hypocrisy. Helaena could be happier if you accepted the proposal of marriage with Jace or even if you married her to Aemond she would be happier, I could be happier if I were married with (y/n) and you wouldn't have your youngest son far from you and his true home, but no... Here we are, with a war knocking on our door, our family crumbling and with my beloved In the arms of that fuckin' wolf In the north!
Alicent approached Aegon, trying to be a loving mother, her hands on Aegon's cheeks, she can see his eyes, there's anger, pain and deception. She's trying to convince him that your marriage can bring good things in his favor.
- Aegon, you cannot see it now, but the marriage of lady (y/n) with Cregan Stark could be useful, she will do anything you asked her, she will ally to us in this war if it's necessary. Your brothers will fight at your side and your wife and children will be there too.
Aegon gave a step back, neglecting with his head, his face only shows how disgusted he feels. He never expected kind words from her but also not this kind of poorly try to calm him down, at this point he feels like he's trapped, he's a little boy trapped in a man's body, he wants to run away from that room, he needs to calm himself before doing something he could regret later.
Suddenly, your voice and the memory of your face, your hands and the affection between you and him filled his mind. You were his safe place years ago and yet, he still thinks about you when he feels lost and suffocated.
He left the room while Alicent was yelling his name, some guards tried to go behind him but he stopped us, he only wanted a person close to him, You.
He arrived at the dragon's pitch, Sunfyre his precious Dragon sensed instantly Aegon's emotions and roared to let Aegon know it was ready to fly away with him.
And that's what they did, Aegon disappeared in the sky, the clouds covered them, it was possible to hear them but to see in what direction they went wasn't that easy.
You were in your chambers resting when one of your ladies appeared, pallid as snow.
- My lady. There's... A... A dragon landed not so far from the castle.
You sit on your bed quickly, it is not possible, you try to calm yourself thinking it can be any dragon.
- A dragon? Which one?
- I'm not sure, it looked like a golden dragon, shined like the sun.
No, no, no. The fear of seeing him after all this time has appeared and grown inside you.
- What do we have to do my lady?
- Bring my coat, we have to welcome our unexpected guest by our own since Cregan is not here.
As soon as you arrived at the hall of the castle, Aegon was already there, waiting.
- My... (You doubted) King. What do we owe the honor of your visit?
- Lady (y/n), I recently found out about your marriage, I merely came to give you my congratulations.
- Thank you, my king, I've been blessed with such a wonderful marriage with a good lord.
- Where's he?
- Hunting, we weren't expecting visitors or he would be here to give you a proper welcome.
- That's fine, lady (y/n) I would like to have a private audience with you.
You looked at your ladies and knights, you didn't say a word but they understood instantly and left you alone with Aegon.
- What are the real motives of your visit... My king?
- there's no need for such formalities (Y/n)...
- Well, tell me Aegon, what are you doing here?
- I came here... To take you with me.
You are in shock, while he is walking to you, getting more and more close.
- Pardon?
- Come with me, we will annul our marriages, now that I'm king, only my word is the law. We can finally marry as it was planned years ago.
You're still surprised, you haven't moved from your place, he doesn't wait and hugs you, you can feel his nose in the crook of your neck, it's just like when you were children, he was always hiding his face in your neck while you were hugging each other, it was innocent and pure. But you two are not children anymore, both are married now, he's father and king now, you're married and soon to be mother, you haven't bled In two moons or more, your breast started to grow and hurt a little, and all your ladies had told you you look different, more beautiful, Cregan said to you that being pregnant with a boy brings more beauty to some women.
You kindly stepped back, you will not leave your husband or your new home just for an old childhood love. Aegon doesn't look surprised by your reaction.
- You don't smell like the roses anymore, now you smell like forest and berries.
- I've changed, you don't smell like cotton and Oak either, you smell like ashes and sea. You've changed too, my king.
- Probably we changed, but I'm sure our feelings are still the same (y/n) please let's go, you don't belong here, your place is at my side... Please.
His pleading eyes are like knives in your heart, but there's no way this works, people will speak, your parents will abandon you, you know a war is coming and you know who your house will support. And there's Cregan, the man of your dreams, the one who took his time to know all about you, the man who patiently won your trust and your heart, he made you a promise under the God's tree, you did too and you will not break it.
- We're adults now, Aegon, those dreams were erased, I'm married and I love him, a wolf grows inside me, I will not leave nothing of this just for an old children's dream, I moved on.
Aegon's eyes are full of tears, you're breaking his heart, but someone needs to be right-minded. You're observing him with sadness and pity while him is remembering what Alicent told him. You would do anything he asked you, maybe his mother is right, if he can't have you as wife, at least he can have you as an ally.
- I understand, you're right, I'm being a fool and I ask you to forgive me.
- It's okay Aegon...
You held his hand and squeezed it, he's contemplating the small interaction and then he looks into your eyes.
- I want to ask you for something else too.
- Go on, tell me.
- People say a war is coming, my question or the favor I want to ask for, is, will your house and the north join me?
You know the answer to that, you know your house and the north decisions are, even you have your own decision. Maybe you can avoid this uncomfortable moment.
- Aegon... I beg for your pardon but I cannot decide the loyalty of my house or my husband's house on my own. If you wish, you can stay and wait, my husband and I will discuss and consider your proposition.
He smiled at you, certainly he's not pleased with your response, he simply whispered in your ear.
- You're a terrible liar, Lady (Y/n), your decision is already taken, isn't it?... Don't worry, I forgive you, but remember this, After I win this war, I'll be back here and I'll take you with me, I will not have the kindness to ask for your permission or opinion, I will be back for you.
He left a kiss in your cheek and your hand, then he left without saying anything else, the roaring of a dragon echoed through the castle, your ladies appeared just in time to catch you, you fainted.
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m1ssunderstanding · 4 months
Text
Understanding Lennon McCartney Rewatch Part 1.2
George: We don't have to keep [an image] up, we just remain ourselves. Don't we, Ringo? Ringo: well, we do, I mean, it's the other two we're worried about. It's a joke about John and Paul being bigheads, but a crazy person – definitely not me – could also see it other ways if they wanted to.
Paul talking about their mutual friend when asked how they met and John telling him not to complicate it. They're so married it's ridiculous. 
Always looking at each other with every single joke. 
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He looks like he's in a lovely enclosure at the petting zoo. I've always been so confused by this footage. Can anyone tell me what the hell is going on?
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I LOVE that we now know Paul was cast as Thisbe and John as Pyramus and then they switched. I'm actually dying to know how and why that happened though. My first instinct was “of course. Paul was scared he'd look too convincing as a woman, so John did it for him.” But no. Paul dressed as a woman at the cavern, wore ladies lingerie in Hamburg, and wanted to do a full drag show on TV in the early seventies. So why not Thisbe?
Why do you as a man randomly bring up the color of your friend's dick while staring lovingly into his eyes?
It must be noted. They had a wonderful time playing star-crossed lovers. 
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The bickering pianos are so cute! And then John (prompting Paul): and John and I . . . Paul: oh I hate this. John: will probably carry on . . . Paul: we'll carry on songwriting . . . You just know Paul didn't hear the end of that one interview answer for a long long time. And it's because John just had to hear it over and over again.
Love the editing so that Paul smacks John's ass right as the symbols crash. 10/10 A+
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This iconic moment. Poor George tally number 4.
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Interviewer brings up marriage and John takes a shot like he wants to forget that the whole concept even exists. Literally poor Cynthia. And not even in an “lol her husband's gay” type of way. Just in a genuine “the way their relationship fell apart actually breaks my heart because she really did love him and in his way he loved her too but they were just so thoroughly incompatible” type of way. 
Paul: makes a stupid dad joke. John: giggles gleefully and kicks his feet
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I have never seen someone so disappointed that they didn't need to lend their friend a pen. Paul had his hand in his pocket before John even asked the interviewer for a pen and when the interviewer gives him one, Paul literally hangs his head like he's just been cut from the school play. I just. The obsession is frankly cartoonish. But also, he just needs to be needed, you know? How many songs does he have which conflate being needed and being loved?
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The juxtaposition of Paul and John elaborately messing with the interviewer (“yes John Lenard, that's me” and “actually it's done by mirrors.”) vs George's “I don't know” and “yeah.” it's actually kind of mean editing but whatever. It is ULM not UH. Someone should make that though.
Again, John. Calm down. He's not that funny. Just look at Jimmy. That's the normal person's reaction to that joke. John is half the reason Paul has such a big head honestly. 
Paul's answer to a question about the Beatles gaining a lot of adult fans is nice. Sometimes he shocks with a bit of wisdom. Sometimes his words don't get messed up at the point they hit his throat as he says. 
What the fuck? Okay so the interviewer asks Paul what he likes in a girl, right? I've always been too distracted by Paul saying he likes a sense of humor and John doing an obnoxious fake laugh in the background because John. It's embarrassing how obvious you are. Stop.
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But I never noticed Paul actually says “people”. The interviewer asks about girls and he says he likes “people - er - girls” to have a sense of humor. Huh. Okay. 
So ULM was actually what made me a serious Beatles fan and this was the first moment where I had to pause it and verify to see if what I'd just read was actually true. It really is a doozy. 
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How to flirt. A guide by Paul McCartney. Step one: get your crush’s attention. This should be extremely easy. Just gesture vaguely at something you're holding. He'll be interested. Step two: do something suggestive to a phallic object. Step three: that's it. You've got him. He'll do whatever you want.
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The editing in this thing truly is brutal. Just the jump cuts from a question about Cynthia to John and Paul making each other laugh to girls screaming to John and Paul unnecessarily touching to girls passed out on the ground to John and Paul desperate for each other's attention to girls waving signs to John and Paul sharing weird eye contact to girls physically mobbing them to John and Paul beaming at each other to a question about Jane. It really does drive home the immense pressure of compulsory heterosexuality back then. 
Then a question that's obviously meant to poke a nerve and start some bad feelings. “Paul. Is John the leader of the Beatles?” Easily rebuffed with “no I'm not” and “there's no real leader”. I know I'm dramatic but really it's like every aspect of that society was against them you know? And they just kind of said "fuck you, we're crazy about each other."
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Question: what do they think about when they're imprisoned in their hotel rooms? John: we don't think about one thing. *Whips head to look at Paul* well, some of us do. Oh and you know that how exactly? What, do you just have a printout of his every thought? Do you keep constant tabs on his dick?
Someone give me the heterosexual explanation of that moment when John very clearly and obviously checks out and appreciates Paul's ass as he and Ringo are pretending to be cowboys. Seriously. I'm at a loss here. 
Poor George tally number six? Seven? They're asked what they'll do if England reinstates the draft. John brings up Southern Ireland. George brings up Germany. Paul and John plan their joint escape to Southern Ireland as if George hadn't even spoken. 
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The choice to play “Another Girl” over that quote of John's being like ‘Paul's actually much meaner than i am’ is great. Because that's seriously such a jerk song. I don't much like Jane, honestly, but fuck, she deserved so much better than Paul. He was such a douche.  
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Literally all the song choices in this are phenomenal. “Hide Your Love Away” over the montage of 60s homophobia moments? It's so genius. Saying everything without saying anything. Letting the Beatles do the talking. 
The laugh track over the cartoon is honestly so sad. Nobody asked them if they were okay with being mocked like that and they never even made a dime off it. What would that have felt like to know that your being “too close” with your best friend was a running joke on TV?
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“It's only love and that is all. Why should I feel the way I do?”
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