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therecordconnection · 5 months

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Some Thoughts Regarding James Somerton

I know I'm rather late to the conversation and some of these points may have already been talked about in some form elsewhere on the site, but if you don't mind, I have some thoughts of my own regarding the subject of hbomberguy's latest video and I would like to take time to voice. This blog is normally dedicated to music and music writing, not posts about disgraced Youtubers, so I apologize for the detour in regularly scheduled programming.

First, I think it's important to make the distinction that Somerton isn't just a case of "problematic Youtube guy got owned... twice" but rather a genuine case of academic dishonesty, which is several grades above youtuber drama. This isn't something like Tati Westbrook getting angry at James Charles for sucking dick and cock at a birthday dinner. This isn't Ethan Klein and Trisha Paytas or whomever having beef. It's not Charlie Critikal talking about some stupid drama of the day or someone just using Youtube videos to say a bunch of gross and problematic stuff. No. This is a fucking grifter who not only lied, cheated, and stole his way to the top, but also did it by using a vulnerable community that has long had their voices snuffed out and their history completely rewritten or wiped from existence altogether. What history he didn't plagiarize, he twisted and outright lied about. He just made shit up to suit his own gross agenda.

A lot of things about James Somerton left me absolutely livid, and I admit that I didn't even know who he was until hbomberguy's video. I think what makes me the most mad is that I went to undergrad and grad school with a number of jackoffs that were just like him. People that didn't give a shit about the art of writing and research and just treated academia and the pursuit of knowledge and how to critically engage with art and media into a stupid game that only chumps take seriously. Somerton pisses me off because I AM a writer. When I write the Ranting and Raving series of posts on here, that stuff doesn't just fly out of my ass. I have to sit with a song, study it, research it, and make sure I know what I'm talking about so I don't look like a clown. I also have to make sure that I link and credit where I'm getting information from. It's not just important for my own satisfaction, but it's important for anyone who stumbles upon a post on this blog and takes time out of their day to read it and/or reblog it.

I think that's the part that makes me the most mad. That he and Nick Hergott have so little respect for the work that goes into researching and writing about a topic that other people are really passionate about. Spending time with something, studying it, and figuring out an interesting and unique perspective on it is a great feeling. Sharing what you find or how you see something with others and having them either like or reblog your work is an even greater feeling. That's my writing that somebody enjoyed and thought was worth sharing with others. Fuck fuck fuck Somerton for thinking you can take a million little shortcuts to get to that result.

While I'm on the topic, I don't think Hergott gets a pass for Somerton's actions. I've seen some people make the argument that he isn't complicit and there's a chance that he genuinely had no clue that Somerton was doing this... but I don't buy it. There's no way he didn't know and wasn't in on it in some capacity. Even if he wasn't, as Todd in the Shadows pointed out in his video on this situation, Nick is, whether you like it or not, an accomplice to Somerton's lies and he is complicit in the blame, due to his name being included in the "Written By" credit of a lot of those videos with Somerton. The way I see it, I find it hard to believe that he couldn't have known. I imagine part of Hergott's signing on with Somerton was that in the event that shit hits the fan, Hergott would be used as a fall guy to help deflect accusations of plagiarism.

To return to Somerton, in a way, he's almost worse than AI/Chat-GPT because, really, an AI has no morals. It can only do what someone punches in and tells it to do. Somerton is a guy who does have genuinely insidious ambitions and knows fully what he's doing. That shit about "only the boring gays who didn't mess around in the eighties survived the aids crisis" is the wildest and grossest accusation I've seen about gay people in some time. The wild takes about the Nazis (especially all the wrong things he said about fitness relating to Nazis) should also raise a lot of red flags. I'll say this though, I don't blame anybody in the slightest for not fully realizing Somerton was saying shit like that or doing all of what he was doing until hbomberguy and Todd presented it a certain way and made it all very clear. It's easy to not notice it when Somerton buries it by ripping stuff off from other, better writers. So, if you were someone who was a big fan and was genuinely shocked by the things Todd had to fact-check and debunk and worried that you're a bad person for having not caught any of them, trust me, you're not. Nobody should blame you for not catching it. <3

While I'm ranting about this, I want to say that Somerton's patreon grift was really gross to see exposed as well (through Dan Olson's really great thread, which can be read here). I understand the allure of wanting to buy expensive gear and thinking that's somehow needed in order to make Good Content™️, but there's a stark difference between someone saying "I think I need to shell out a little money in order to get something of higher quality" and "I need to have the appearance of looking like my stuff is being made with high quality stuff." As someone who has been experimenting with trying to turn his writing into video, I did some audio tests this weekend and realized that maybe (just maybe) the old Turtle Beach microphone my brother left behind when he moved out isn't going to cut it. If I want to record something I can be happy with, I'm gonna have to bite it and look at getting something decent, but somewhat affordable from a Best Buy or something. You don't need the best tech in order to make something great, but you can't use copper tools forever if you have the means to be able to enjoy using iron ones, you know?

Somerton's grift reminded me of guys like Onision and Spoony. Grifters who looked to Patreon and other creator donation sites for an easy pay day and would bitch and cry and complain that it's your fault when they don't get it. Somerton making poor financial choices ON TOP of it being money that he scammed from a community of people that were looking to invest in a voice that they genuinely thought was speaking for them in a meaningful way, only makes the grift more disgusting and foul. Even if he's just "some Youtuber," Somerton still had a responsibility to his audience to present queer topics in an ACCURATE manner. He didn't and we all have the right to be angry with him about it. This isn't just silly youtuber controversy, this is academic dishonesty in it's purest form and if it gets you expelled from any college program, it should get you expelled from being able to show your face on Youtube as well, which is how Somerton's story will end.

I've been on the internet for many years. I've seen some of the worst, most problematic creators of all time find a way to bounce back from all kinds of controversy and find some kind of success again. I don't think that will happen for Somerton. Not one bit. What he's done is something you can never come back from, no matter how much you try to reform. If two different youtubers can make two completely different videos about why you suck, I don't think there's any recovery. What happened this weekend is a now classic episode of World's Most One Sided Fist Fights Caught on Film.

This post has gone on for a while, so let me wrap it up. I mean this without hyperbole and without exaggeration: James Somerton is a disgrace to both media criticism and the art of video creation. I genuinely hope he remains propped up as a cautionary tale of what can happen when you fully decide you have absolutely no respect for the Humanities and decide that lying, cheating, and stealing your way to the top, all while scamming and being incredibly shitty towards a community that has long suffered and is STILL suffering greatly to this day, is better than any kind of academic honesty. I understand that Somerton is just "some youtube fraud" to some people, but the problem lies more in what Somerton's actions and motivations represent. I really think hbomberguy's video on plagiarism is going to do a lot of good. It's going to help a lot of people avoid doing it as well as help people become more aware of what it really looks like and all the damage it can do.

Thank you for your time.

P.S. It doesn't really need to be said at this point, but make sure you support the queer voices and writers that did the work Somerton thought was good enough to just copy and paste into a video. They're the ones that suffered the most through all of this and my heart goes out to them, from one writer to another. <3

#original post #plagarism and you(tube)#james somerton #hbomberguy #todd in the shadows

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f1nalboys · 1 year

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Come Inside - Chad Meeks-Martin

Chad Meeks-Martin x Fem!AFAB!Reader

hi guys. this is the fic that was giving me a massive amount of brain rot today!!! i dreamt this (yeah im lucky i know thank you) and havent been able to stop thinking about it since <3 shout out to tatianna (@castieltrash1) for reading it and doing some editing for me, she is the loml and u all need to follow her NEOW! (in fact, she has a charlie from scream 4 fic in the works and its DELICIOUS.) anyways hope u all enjoy this :3

WORD COUNT: 5384 (I KNOW TRUST ME)

WARNINGS: nsfw, first time sex, dub-con except not really?, chad begs to fuck the reader, male manipulator core, 'just the tip' turns into the full thing, unprotected sex, oral (afab and amab recieving,) dirty talk, praise, slight body worship, slight corruption, slight convincing so again, dub con to be safe, high/drunk sex, reader is more high than chad but neither are drunk but they drank if that makes sense, friends to lovers, im just in love with him you guys! reader wears a dress, chad calls reader good girl and pretty girl. actually proofread bc tati is a saving grace angel lady. <3

You feel him before you hear him. You’re at the bar, nursing your first drink of the night, trying to ignore the dull thud the music was giving you when suddenly there’s a large hand placed on the small of your back. “Can I get another beer?” Chad asks the bartender and you feel yourself relax at the sound of his voice, goosebumps rising on the exposed flesh of your arms as his thumb absentmindedly runs up and down. “Hey.” He tilts his head at you a bit. “Nice earrings.”

“Hi. I could say the same to you.” You look up at him and grin, matching his own wide and easy smile. Chad’s standing right beside you, toned body pressed against yours and you don’t know if it’s on purpose or just due to the crowd. “You having fun?” you ask as the bartender hands him the beer bottle. Chad takes a sip from it, looking down at you, grinning against the glass when he notices you watching the way his lips curve against the opening.

It was no secret in the group that you had a crush on Chad. It was hard not to have one on him; he was kind, funny, handsome as hell, and he always seemed to know just the right thing to say. “Now I am,” he teases and you roll your eyes, turning away from him to hide your grin. Just like that. “I’m getting fuckin’ bored though. Too many people. How about you? You find any lucky guys, Y/N?”

“Lucky guys?”

“You know, to take home?” He wiggles his eyebrows for added effect when you look back up at him. “I’m trying to ask if you’re gonna fuck someone tonight.” You nearly choke on your drink and he laughs, deep in his chest, and his hand which was still on your back begins to rub soothing circles. His hands are rough and calloused from his time playing football and they’re so big, with long thick fingers, and suddenly you’re shaking your head in an attempt to get the image of him using them on you, wherever he sees fit, out of your mind. “I take that as a no, then?”

You snort, shaking your head. “Yeah, no, not fucking anyone tonight,” you say, taking another sip of your drink and sighing. “And now my drink’s empty, the music here is too god damn loud, and you’re right, there’s too many fucking people here!” Shaking your head, you dig into the small clutch you had with you, fishing out a few dollar bills and placing them on the bar counter. “I think I’m gonna head out.”

“Can I walk you home?” Chad asks, finally removing his hand from your back as you slide out of the bar stool. Your eyebrows narrow in confusion. You had one drink, were the furthest from being drunk you had been in your entire college career, in fact, and you only lived five minutes down the road. “C’mon,” he says, shrugging his broad shoulders and flashing you that fucking smile that always made your knees weak. “It’s late, I just wanna make sure you get home alright.”

You pretend to think on it, letting out a small ‘hmm’ noise as you tap a finger to your chin. “Fine, but you have to come inside and sober up a bit before you leave.” Chad’s smile doesn’t go away at your request. In fact, it seems to grow. He takes out his wallet and places a few bills beside yours, grabbing the bartender's attention and letting them know you both had paid off your tabs before holding his arm out for you to grab. You do so with a shy smile, trying to ignore the feeling of him under your fingertips, or how close you were to him, or how he kept looking down at you with a smile, or even how his eyes kept darting to your lips. Everything he did seemed to be a deliberate attempt to get you worked up and it always fucking worked.

He leads you out of the club with ease and before you know it you’re out on the New York street. “Which way?” he asks and you nod to the right, following beside him at a slow pace. It was a nice night, a cool breeze helping to offset the hot air that had permeated the city during the day, and the lights and noises of the city still awake helped set you at ease. “You really weren’t having fun in there, were you?”

“Why do you ask?”

“Because we got out here and you relaxed like you had just gotten out of a fight or flight situation.” He laughs and you smile at the sound. Chad was always grinning, always smiling, but he had been through some tough shit. You used to wonder how he was able to keep this positive attitude but then decided to let it go and try not to dwell on it too much.

“It was just… too much, you know? Lots of people, lights, that music-”

“I just think you’re old.” You elbow him in the side and he grins. “You are! You sound like my mom.” Chad sniffles and places his free hand on his back, slowing down to an almost complete stop, speaking with a crotchety old-lady voice. “Back in my day, we went to the sock hop! We were pulled by a horse and buggy, not these cars! Your music is too loud, Chady-kins, turn it down!”

You both fall into a fit of laughter, picking back up the original pace you had set. “Chady-kins? Oh, I’m so stealing that.” He shakes his head at you and you giggle, leaning further into his grip. “I mean it! And I’m telling your mom you called her old.”

You stop walking, finally outside of your apartment building. “Too far,” he says, his smile dropping ever so slightly when you let go of his arm in favor of typing in your door code. “Am I still invited in?” he asks and you look over at him. He’s leaning against the old brick building, the lights of the restaurant across the street bouncing off of his skin and his smile and his eyes and you’re nodding, face burning hot. “Yeah?” His voice is deeper than it was just a moment before and it makes you swallow heavily.

All you can do is nod.

“Good. M’glad. You know I’m not drunk though, right?” he says as you two walk into your apartment building. He lets you go first, leading the way, but you can feel his eyes on your ass each time you move. You not-so-subtly sway your hips as you walk and you swear you hear him suck in a breath. “Only had a beer and a half before we left, so, no real need to sober up.”

“I’m not drunk either. You can still hang out for a bit, though, if you want?” He hums in agreement and then you’re at your apartment, digging through your purse for your keys. “It’s a little messy in here,” you say sheepishly as you open the door, revealing the mess you had left behind in your attempt at getting ready to go out. Chad just laughs, kicking his shoes off at the door and locking it behind him. “I couldn’t figure out what to wear.”

Your heels are finally off and you hurry around, picking up the pile of clothes you had left on your bed and floor, shoving them in your closet and hamper. “Well I’d say you landed on something good,” Chad says from the kitchen, his voice muffled as he bends down and peers into your fridge. “Because you look fucking hot.” You squeak out a thank you and busy yourself at your desk, fixing up the few items you had left out and trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach.

“What are you doing?” you ask, poking your head over and seeing Chad in the living room. He turns around and holds up the ashtray you had left on your coffee table, an unsmoked blunt still on it. “You wanna smoke?” you ask and he nods. “Go ahead. You want something to drink?”

“Water’s fine. You’re not gonna smoke with me?”

“I don’t know,” you say, passing by him as you head into the kitchen to grab two water bottles for the both of you. “I get sorta… weird when I smoke.”

“Weird? Weird how?” Chad asks and you hear the sound of your lighter sparking as he sits back on your small couch with a groan. “Do you, like, talk about conspiracies or some shit? Because I’ve smoked with Mindy before and it’s either that or her talking about whatever girl she’s in love with that day.” You chuckle, face heating up as you turn around and see him on the couch. He’s sitting with his legs spread and you realize instantly how well-fitted his jeans are, tight around his thighs. His head is back on the couch looking up, eyes closed as he takes another hit. Smoke plumes around him in a lazy rolling fog.

You nudge him with the bottle and he takes it with a thank you. Sitting down beside him, you tuck your legs up, knees pressed against his thigh. God, his thigh. You look away from them, opening up your own bottle of water and taking a few slow sips, the image of you riding his thigh, his hands on your hips, building in your mind.

“So? How weird is weird?” Chad questions, holding the blunt out to you. You consider it for a second, eyes flicking between it and his face which was turned towards you. You couldn’t tell Chad that the ‘weird’ you got was different from what he was imagining. You didn’t spout off conspiracies about the government, or get paranoid. You got horny, and being around him would only make that ‘weirdness’ worse. The days alone when you would smoke, you’d find yourself in bed, hand between your legs, moaning his name. “C’mon.”

It’s all the encouragement you need and you pluck it from his fingers and settle back into the faux leather of your couch. “There you go,” he says, taking the time to let his eyes drag down your body while you’re taking a hit.

The dress you wore fit you great, tight against your body, the color complimenting your skin tone. He hadn’t been able to take his eyes off of you since he saw you tonight from across the bar, nursing his drink for ten minutes before Mindy had shoved him towards you, telling him that if he didn’t make a move on you she would on his behalf. And now here he was, smoking with you, so close on the couch that he could practically feel your pulse under his skin. He wanted you so badly and everything that came with it, the good and the bad.

The two of you pass the blunt back and forth a few times, talking about nothing in between, but you were being affected far more than Chad was. “Are you even inhaling?” you ask with a giggle, passing it back to Chad. He rolls his eyes, taking a large hit in order to prove that he was. “Alright, alright. Show off,” you mutter, blinking heavily. “How come it’s hitting me harder than you?” you whine, shaking your head when he offers the blunt back to you. “I can barely even think straight. M’all… fuzzy.”

“I’m cooler than you, duh,” Chad says with ease, taking a hit and waiting for your laughter to die down before blowing the smoke into your face. You let him, blinking, pupils wide. He thinks you look pretty normally, but he thinks you look beautiful like this. He leans over and places the roach onto the ashtray, sighing as he leans back, his left hand resting on your thigh. You swallow heavily, your vision fuzzy. Your dress had ridden up quite a bit now and his hand was so warm against your flesh. He’s looking at you with such an intense look it has you squirming, face hot when he laughs at you. “I wanna kiss you.”

You blink, sure you misheard him. “What?”

“I wanna kiss you. Like,” he laughs, shaking his head slightly. His brown eyes seemed to sparkle in the lamplight, the whites of his eyes red, pupils blown out. “So fucking bad.” His other hand, the one that had been resting on his thigh, comes up and he places it on your cheek. His thumb runs along your cheek, catching the corner of your mouth. His touch is gentle but everything is so intense still, your skin feeling like it’s on fire, burning against his own. “Can I? Please?”

You nod, closing your eyes when he grins and leans in. The kiss is slow, each movement of his lips done with a purpose. His hand drags from your cheek to the base of your neck, pushing you into his kiss, his touch, just a bit more. You follow his lead with ease, mind too hazy to try and take over.

He pulls away for a moment to catch his breath, staring into your eyes. “Fuck,” he mutters and he’s kissing you again, harder this time, sloppy. His tongue is slipping inside your mouth and you let out a soft moan, his hand on your thigh dragging upwards, pushing past the fabric. “So fucking hot,” He mutters against your lips, and then you can feel the top of his fingers brush against your underwear, right over your hips, and you’re pushing his hand away gently. “What? You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m… I’m okay.” He’s still looking at you, hands dropping to his sides, and he looks worried. You can tell he’s wracking his brain for what he did, if he had gone too far somehow. “I’m a virgin.” You blurt it out and squeeze your eyes shut, embarrassed. When you had felt his fingers up your skirt it had hit you that if it continued he’d be touching you, that you want him to touch you, but that you weren’t sure if he’d want to.

“So?” Your eyes pop open. Chad is staring at you with a kind smile, dimple evident on his cheek, and you feel your face heat up. “I mean, I’m okay with it if you are, you know?” His hand’s on your leg again, fingers dragging up and down your thigh slowly. “Are you nervous about it?”

“I didn’t know if you’d be alright with it.”

“Well, I am. Besides, wouldn’t it be good to lose it to me?”

“What do you mean?”

Chad’s smile grows and he leans in, lips close to yours. You close your eyes, waiting for him to kiss you. “You know me, right?” You hum. You want him to kiss you again. “You trust me too, right?” Another hum and this time you're leaning in a little bit, a whine stuck in your throat when he pulls away. “Then you should know that I’d make you feel good. I’d take my time when I touch you,” His hand is up your dress again and your body jerks involuntarily into his touch. “That I’d take good care of you and your virgin pussy.”

He brushes his fingers up your inner thigh and your legs spread instantly, giving him room. He grins at the sight of you, eyes closed, disheveled, breathing hard, legs spread and hand gripping his forearm. “Please?” you ask and then he’s kissing you, finally, and his fingers are brushing against your clothed clit. You keen into his touch, whining into his lips, but he doesn’t stop.

His fingers begin to rub slow circles against you, a good amount of pressure, and it feels so different from when you touch yourself thinking of him. Maybe it’s the weed, maybe it’s the fact that this is happening, but everything is almost too much. You’re surrounded by him in every way possible, his very being filling your own body, replacing your own needs. All you want is for him to feel good, for him to moan, for him to gasp at each press of your hand against him, for him to be begging for more without even realizing he’s doing it.

You want to make him feel as good as he’s making you feel.

“More?” Chad asks, parroting your own words back to you with a smile, taking his lips away from your own, his fingers speeding up. His nose is brushing against your neck before he’s kissing it, biting down against your pulse gently, soothing it with his tongue. “Bet you’re close aren’t you, Y/N?” His voice is right there in your ear, breath hot against your skin, but you can barely focus on that. “C’mon, be good for me and cum, okay? Please? Fuck, need you to cum so bad, baby.”

“Gonna-” Is all you get out before he’s biting down onto your neck again and pressing down hard onto your clit and then you’re cumming, nails digging into his arm, a moan stuck in your throat. “F-fuck, Chad, shit!” His fingers don’t slow down for a second but he’s moving off of you, pushing your dress up your body and pulling your underwear down in one fell swoop.

He shoves your legs apart and you take a second to catch your breath, looking down at him as he slides down the length of the couch. His eyes are glued to your pussy, fingers swiping through your folds and popping them into his mouth with a groan. “Taste so fucking good, so sweet,” he says, prodding at your hole with his middle finger, looking up at you. “Can I taste you?”

You nod, heart hammering out of your chest, and watch as he leans in, breathing in deep, eyes fluttering closed. As his tongue flicks over your clit he pushes his finger inside you slowly, just to the first knuckle, and your hip bucks at the intrusion, forcing his thick finger deeper inside you.

“Relax, it’s okay,” he soothes, watching your eyes squeeze at the feeling. His fingers were thick, stretching you out with just one, and his tongue kept moving, swirling around your clit and sending shockwaves up your body. You try to focus on relaxing your body and when he feels you do so he pushes his finger in all the way. “There you go, good girl,” he coos, spitting onto his finger as he begins to pump it inside you.

Chad is moving slowly, finger pumping in and out at a snail's pace, tongue moving even slower somehow. It almost hurts how slow he’s going and you know it’s to prepare you, to make you want him more than you already did. He wanted you drunk on his touch. “Faster,” you gasp and you can feel him laugh against you. “More, please, Chad?” You feel another finger press at your hole and you could cry, your body begging for more.

The stretch is only a little painful, his tongue helping to soothe the ache. You can feel the knot in your stomach growing with each quickening pump of his finger, each swirl of his tongue, and you swear you see stars when he scissors his fingers inside you. One of your hands grabs onto his head, pulling his head in closer to your cunt, hips rocking up to meet his fingers and tongue, grinding against him.

You cum without warning, your cry caught in your throat when he pushes in a third finger. It was too much. Your brain was still fuzzy from smoking and everything he was doing to you was heightened. You could feel every taste bud on his tongue as he flicked it against your clit, every groove in his fingers as they pumped inside you.

“Ok, ok, too much,” you get out and he stops, finally pulling away from you. His fingers are coated in your cum and you watch through heavy-lidded eyes as he sucks on one of his fingers, groaning at the taste of you, before holding his other two fingers out for you. They press against your lips and your mouth parts, tongue sticking out, and you wrap your lips around them as he pushes them inside.

“Don’t you taste good?” he asks with a grin, leaning over you, his free hand resting on the arm of the couch beside your head. You hum, swirling your tongue around his digits. Your hands begin to fiddle with his belt, tugging at it, and he grins. “Wanna suck my cock, that it?” You nod, his fingers still inside your mouth, pressing down on your tongue. “Yeah, I bet you do. Bet you’ve thought all about my cock inside your pretty mouth haven’t you? Fuck, you’re so pretty, you know that?”

You grin, running your hand down his face, mimicking what he had done to you earlier, thumb brushing against the corner of his lips.“You’re pretty,” you say, compliment muffled by his fingers in your mouth, and he gives you a soft laugh, his head falling to hide his grin. He finally pulls his fingers out of your mouth, a small string of saliva connecting them to your lips. “Wanna touch you,” you whine, going back to working on his belt.

“Whatever you want, baby,” he says, leaning back and shoving his jeans down. He leans backward on the couch, jeans tossed onto the floor, his cock straining against his underwear. You’re practically salivating by the time you are leaning over him, placing soft kisses over the fabric of his underwear, looking up at him through your lashes. “Hey, I didn’t tease you,” he says with a sigh, eyelids heavy with lust at the feeling. He had been hard since he kissed you and the taste of you was still lingering on his tongue and he swears it‘s fucking him up more than the weed did.

You finally tug at his underwear, pulling them down just enough to pull his cock out. He grabs your wrist, turning your hand palm up and spitting in it, giving you a wink before leaning back, arms behind his head as he enjoys the show. “I’ve never…” you say, suddenly nervous. It was clear to you that Chad had experience in this regard with how easily he had made you cum and you were beginning to worry that you were in over your head, too nervous and inexperienced and high to make sure you did alright.

“That’s alright,” he says, giving you a soft smile, one that instantly quells your anxiety. “Just take your time with it, okay? There’s plenty of time for me to teach you, okay, pretty girl?” You nod, wrapping your spit-slick hand around his cock and he hisses, head tilting back as you begin to stroke him. You start off slow, tightening your grip at the base of his cock and loosening it when you get to the top, swiping your thumb over the tip. “Fu-uck,” he says, tripping over his words with a laugh and a thick swallow. “You sure you’ve never done this before? Feels fucking amazing, Y/N.”

Leaning down, you keep your eyes on him as you lick over the tip of his cock, collecting the bead of precum there and swallowing it. He groans and you can feel him throb under your hand. You flatten your tongue and lick from the base of his cock up to the tip, following the prominent vein he had, and his hips buck at the feeling. This is exactly how you wanted him; his eyebrows scrunched together, eyes struggling to stay open at the feeling of you, him fucking into your fist with an eagerness he couldn’t control. You were making him feel good and fuck, it went straight to your cunt.

You don’t try to take all of him in your mouth. It was like he said; there would be plenty of time for him to train your throat, just like he had always dreamt of. You keep your hand on him, moving at the same pace, and you take the tip of his cock in your mouth, swallowing around it. He was big, bigger than any toy you had used before at the very least, and when you take him a bit further down he bucks his hips, plunging his cock down your throat. You gag and pull off of him and he’s apologizing.

“Sh-shit, sorry! Sorry, Y/N, just, fuck, your throat felt so good, couldn’t help it. C’mere.” He pulls you in for a kiss and you know he’s sorry but even if he wasn’t you wouldn’t care. It hits you then, while his tongue is down your throat and his hand is cupping your cheek, that you’d let him do anything to you and that you’d thank him for it. “Can I fuck you?” he asks, pulling away from your lips and resting his forehead on yours.

“I don’t know…” you start, chewing on your bottom lip. “You’re big… it’s gonna hurt.”

“How about just the tip, then? If you want more we’ll keep going, if not, that’s fine.” You ponder the offer for a second. He told you he’d take care of you, that he’d take his time, make sure it felt good for you. “Don’t you trust me, baby?” You do trust him. You know him, just like he said. You nod and he smiles. “Good girl. Okay, let's go to the bed, yeah? I’ll get you out of this sexy fucking dress and I’ll make sure you feel good, alright baby?”

He helps you stand and keeps kissing you, unzipping your dress as he moves you through the apartment, pulling your straps down. The dress is pulled off of you a second before your knees hit the back of the bed and you’re both falling onto it, giggling. “Hi,” you say, hands on his shoulders. He grins.

“Hi.” Chad stands, pulling his shirt off and tugging his underwear off, tossing both somewhere behind him. You both take a moment to stare at the other, nervous giggles leaving your lips. You had dreamt of this moment dozens of times before, had cum to it just as often, and now it was happening and it was somehow better than what you had ever thought up. “Look at you,” he says, hands dragging up your legs to your chest and back down again. He’s slotted in between your legs and you whine, wrapping one leg around him and pulling him in closer. “Use your words.”

It’s the first time he was really telling you to do something and you swallow heavily. “Please, Chad, can you?”

“Can I what?”

“Can you fuck me? Please? I want you to take my virginity so badly, I need it, please? I’ve thought about it so much, wanted it for so long.” You’re whining now, begging, and you swear you can feel the tears begin to fill your eyes. He’s smiling down at you and his eyes are so dark you’re not sure how much of his iris is left. Your legs spread for him when he nods and you watch with bated breath as he grabs ahold of his cock, spitting on it, before swiping up your slit.

He groans at the feeling. “So wet, baby. Bet your pussy will let me just slide right in.” He pushes the head of his cock in slowly and you gasp, tears filling your eyes at the stretch. It felt good but it hurt and you can feel him rocking his hips ever so slightly, pulling out and pushing back in, never going too far inside you. His hands are on your thighs, digging into your flesh, and you’re overwhelmed again.

The two of you stay like this a moment, the head of his cock pushed inside, your cunt clenching around him desperately. When he leans down over you, resting his forearms beside your head, he pushes in just a bit more and you whimper at the feeling. Chad wipes a stray tear off of your cheek and kisses you, short soft kisses in an effort to distract you from the pain and him from the overwhelming urge to push all the way in.

“Can I move more?” he whispers against your lips and you shake your head a little, too fuzzy to really think about it. “Please?” he whines, nuzzling into your neck. “Don’t I feel good, baby? Doesn’t my cock feel good inside you?”

“It does-”

“It’ll feel even better all the way inside.” His voice sounds so desperate and now he’s rocking his hips further, plunging another inch inside you and you moan because he’s right, it does feel good. The burn and pain of the stretch have gone away, giving way to pleasure. You want more, you want him, you just don’t know how to say it. “Please, baby, fuck. Your cunt feels so good, so fucking tight and wet and fuckin’ perfect for me. Let me fuck you, god, I need it so bad. Don’t you trust me? You know I’ll take care of you, right?”

You nod, babble out some response close to ‘yes, please, more,’ and then he’s pushing all the way inside, hips snapping forwards. You yelp at the intrusion, caught off guard by how full you feel, and then he’s thanking you over and over and over again as he sets a brutal pace. Chad’s weight is fully on you, his arms wrapping around you to pull you even closer to him. He can’t get enough of your skin against his, of the noises you make, of the way your pussy clenches around him and pulls him in closer, milking his cock.

“Thank you, oh fuck, thank you, Y/N. Christ, so tight.” His voice is cracking, raising an octave as he begins to lose himself in the feeling of you around him. The pain of his thrusts is quickly overtaken by the pleasure and you’re moaning, wrapping your legs around his hips, driving him deeper inside you. You both could die happy like this. “So close, fuck, how am I so close already?” He’s talking more to himself than you at this point and that’s okay because you’re too focused on the building pleasure in your gut to care.

The position you’re in has his pelvis grinding against your clit with each thrust and you swear your mind melts just a little bit more each time he fucks into you. “Please, please, please,” you say and you’re not sure what you’re pleading for but all you know is you don’t want him to fucking stop. You’re right there on the edge, can feel it through your entire body, and then Chad is moaning your name loudly and you feel him cum inside you, hips flush against yours.

You cum at the feeling of him filling you and he whines, hips rocking as you pulse around him. He’s sensitive, his head swimming, and the two of you stay like that for a moment, his head in your neck and your arms and legs wrapped around him. “So good,” he finally says, pulling his head back to look at you, his eyebrows stitching together. “You okay? M’sorry, I got carried away, I didn’t even ask-”

“It’s alright,” you say, running your hands up and down his back. You can feel him shiver underneath your touch. “I liked it.”

“Yeah?” he teases, kissing you on the lips a few times, biting down on your bottom lip as he pulls back. “Wanna do it again?”

You gasp as his hips begin to move again, the squelch of your cunt and his cum being fucked back into you filling the room. “Y-you wanna go again? Already?” He nods, hand snaking down in between you two, pressing against your sensitive clit and grinning when you whine. “If you can handle it.” You nod despite not knowing if you could; he grins. “My good girl, right? Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you cum till you’re stupid. You’ll look so pretty when you’re dumb on my cock, won’t you?”

#f1nalboys masterlist #f1nalboys writing #f1nalboys works #scream #scream 5 #scream 6 #chad meeks martin #chad meeks martin x reader #chad meeks x reader #chad meeks martin x you #chad meeks martin x y/n #slashers #slasher fic #scream fic

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lover-222 · 9 months

Text

Always Dreaming of You (Frenkie De Jong)

...

"figure your shit out frenkie, i'm serious this time. i'm done playing your games. either you want me or you don't" y/n said as she slammed the house door leaving the blonde boy inside.

y/n hit the studio, she had to meet up with her best friend who was also her producer and helped her write her songs as well. y/n and tatiana had been friends since elementary school, they saw each other grow and went through phases together.

the best friends: y/n and tatiana (tati)

"okay i'm back tati let's get this done" y/n sighed as she sat down on the couch that was in the studio.

"someone looks defeated, what's wrong?" tatiana asked y/n.

y/n she sat up, "frenkie, he's being weird like he can't make up his mind about whatever this is. i like him a lot and he does too, or so i believe. although there's days where he's distant and others when he's clingy. i decided we should take a break because i couldn't do it anymore".

"well you know what to do baby, sing it out" she passed y/n her headphones and started a new recording set.

and that's how it went for a couple of days, y/n had recorded sad songs; she was good, amazing even but her new album had to have a little bit of everything.

"that one was good right!?!" y/n smiled at tati who was behind the glass.

tati gave her a thumbs up and signaled her to come back to where she was. y/n placed her headphones down, and approached tati.

"look babe, i know you're going through it and the songs you've written are amazing don't get me wrong but we also have to records the love songs for the album. you've already promoted them and the fans are excited to hear them" tatiana explained to the black haired girl.

y/n nodded as tati handed her some lyrics, "i wrote this one, you can add or take things away however you're feeling".

she placed the lyrics infront of her and began to sing. y/n felt off, she hit the notes but the energy wasn't there. y/n felt it and tatiana could see it.

"y/n you're not feeling the song or any of the love songs you've written" her best friend said as she stopped the recording.

"stop tati i do love them i really do" the girl said.

"well it doesn't look like it, you miss him" tatiana replied.

y/n sighed and played with her ring, "what does that have to do with any of this??"

"everything y/n everything. most of your songs are love songs, and who do you think about when you sing them?" tatiana looked at her waiting for y/n to answer.

"frenkie." y/n said.

tatiana nodded, "there you go, how about you take the lyrics home and read them over, find your place get grounded; you know what you have to do. you're amazing y/n, i love you with all my heart you're my best friend. you got this".

y/n hugged her best friend and went back home. as soon as she got there she took of her shoes and went straight to her small alcohol bar. she pulled out her favorite wine and poured herself a glass.

she then walked to her bathroom and had gotten ready to take a bath. the bubbles covered the top of the warm water as well as the scent of roses. she had taken the lyrics with her since most of her ideas came to her when she was relaxed.

y/n summerged her body in the warm water, she breathed in and out. she closed her eyes for a minute, letting her muscles relax and her mind rest. she reached out for her glass of wine and took a sip.

she looked over the lyrics and hummed the melody, as well as singing the lyrics. as she sang the lyrics over and over again, it stuck with her. she related too much with the words, it reminded her of him.

Late at night when all the world is sleeping I stay up and think of you And I wish on a star That somewhere you are thinking of me too

reality was that she missed frenkie so much. she wondered what he was doing at every time of the day. was he thinking of her? did he finally make up his mind? was he figuring out what he wanted? she craved his touch and his voice, a couple of days have passed since they saw each other and it was weird not having him around. she wondered if he missed her as much as she missed him.

Cause I'm dreaming of you tonight Til tomorrow I'll be holding you tight And there's nowhere in the world I'd rather be Than here in my room Dreaming about you and me

y/n really did miss him to the point where she dreamt of him. great, not even in her sleep she could rest. he looked so pretty in her dreams, his blonde hair perfectly combed back and his fair skin glowed in the sunlight.

she dreamt of them having fun on those late barcelona nights. although once she woke up and he wasn't next to her, she'd slam her hand on the empty bedside. instead of sleeping with the blonde boy, she would end up cuddling with the bear frenkie had gifted her for her birthday.

Wonder if you ever see me, and I wonder if you know I'm there (am I there? am I?)

he thought about her all day and night, it was hard for him to focus on his football matches. little things that reminded frenkie of y/n would be all over his house.

her left over hair ties, hoodies and clothes she had left, even a pair of lipsticks and makeup she had left inside his bathroom cabinet as well as her toothbrush. he would lay his head on the grass, letting the sun soak him up. he made up his mind, he was done playing games; she was the one for him.

If you looked in my eyes Would you see what's inside? Would you even care?

frenkie loved her eyes, the way he'd look into them and he'd get mesmerized. he had a different mentality, he knew he had messed up many times. he frankly thought that he didn't deserve y/n. he felt terrible for making her cry, to say the least seeing her shed tears from her pretty eyes broke him even more.

I just wanna hold you close But so far All I have are dreams of you

a couple of minutes away from the blonde boys' house was his girlfriend, dreaming and craving him to come to her. although she wanted to prove herself and to make him understand that he couldn't play around with her feelings.

there were times where she missed his cuddles and his scent, especially at night. his aura was just so bright that he could immediately make her smile and his laugh was very contagious. she'd make fun of him and say how much he resembled the sun and a golden retriever.

So I wait for the day and the courage to say How much I love you, yes I do!

frenkie had waited too long, his love for y/n was a burden inside of his chest. he had to tell her, he missed her deeply. there was nobody like her. her wit, charm, and beautiful energy was missed by him every day. he was done partying and playing around, he wanted to be with y/n and love her only her.

...

he decided to go to her house, he had to do what was right. frenkie knocked on her door, y/n opened it looking beautiful as ever.

"hi, can i talk to you?" frenkie said.

"yeah sure" she said then let him into her house.

the couple sat down on the couch, she was eager to hear what he had to say.

frenkie played with his ring, "look i'm done, i noticed these past days that we were separated; i need you. you're the one i need, i've missed you so much i couldn't sleep at night. i know i'm not worthy of your love but if you give me a chance i'll make it right. will you be my girlfriend...again?"

she smiled then playfully rolled her eyes, "yes frenkie i will, i missed you too. i'm glad you came to talk to me because i couldn't sleep either and i wasn't feeling my songs".

"can you sing me the song?" he eagerly said, and how could she say no if he looked so pretty in the light.

y/n nodded and sang her recent piece, he sat there astonished. he loved listening to her song, didn't matter if it was in one of her concerts he'd attend or in the shower, or when she'd be in the kitchen cooking.

"wow that was amazing as always though, you have a beautiful voice my love" he said as he caressed her hand.

"thank you, that's why i needed you i feel like my love songs were hard to sing since i wasn't in that mood" she explained.

"you think of me when you sing?" he asked her.

"of course i do, i always think of you frenkie" y/n admitted.

"good because i'm always always thinking about you too" he replied then gave her a kiss.

frenkiedejong

liked by jkeey4, pablotorree, alejandrobalde, and 728, 308 others

frenkiedejong: my favorite artist who is also my girlfriend i love youu 🫶🏼

view 3,506 comments

fcbarcelona: golden couple ❤️

y/n.l/n: te amo mi amor <;3 ↳ frenkiedejong: i love you more!!

jordialbaofficial: she's an amazing singer !!

pablogavi: my favorites 😎

pedri: she has to perfom in the classico ↳ y/n.l/n: se vienen cositas 🤭 ↳ frenkiedejong: 👀👀👀👀

...

y/n.l/n

liked by harrystyles, karolg, diego_lainez, and 367,038 others

y/n.l/n: always dreaming of youu ☁️

view 4,260 comments

frenkiedejong: cause i'm dreaming of you tonight till tomorrow i'll be holding you tight 🤍 ↳ y/n.l/n: i love you!!!

fan1: OMFGG IS THIS FROM THE NEW ALBUM!!??!?! ↳ y/n'sbiggestfan: I THINK SOO AAA AND FRENKIE REPLIED WITH MORE LYRICS 😭

karolg: super emocionada para el nuevo álbum reina!!! 🫶🏼 ↳ y/n.l/n: gracias bebe luego nos vemos para festejar!!!

(so excited for the new album queen/ thank you baby we'll see each other soon to celebrate)

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─── a/n: LONGGG FRENKIE ONESHOTTTT hope y'all enjoy reading it !!

d <3

#football imagine #football oneshot #fc barcelona #frenkie de jong #frenkie de jong imagine #frenkie de jong x reader #frenkie de jong x y/n #frenkie de jong oneshot #fc barca oneshot #frenkie de jong blurb #Spotify

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lollytea · 1 year

Note

Also we've all written essays about how good Zeno's voice acting for Hunter is, because it's great, BUT CAN WE TALK ABOUT TATI GABRIELLE AS WILLOW THIS EPISODE??? THE FUCKING RANGE AND DEPTH OF EMOTION SHE PORTRAYED HERE!!! The effortless return to anxious s1 willow's voice but this time more raw and vulnerable bc this is a willow who isn't as used to the fear and self-hatred as she used to be and it's scary for her!! The heartbreaking voice crack when she says "I can't do this". Tati's done such a good job subtly making willow sound older as s2 progressed, and then plays with it so well here I just. AUGH! RAGRAGHRSGH BITING AND CLAWING SHE WAS SO GOOD!!!!

I LOVE TATI GABRIELLE'S WILLOW VOICE. I've always found it so distinct and adorable and cartoonishly plucky yet authentic and full of heart. I love that it's a little scratchy, a little crackly. I love that it's so high pitched that it sometimes cracks or squeaks when she gets emotional. I've got a pretty high pitched voice too and it does that occasionally, so I love to see it.

Her line delivery has always been so funny. It being so cutesy and silly sounding really adds to the comedy. ("Not if I never look down :)") However, it took a while before Tati was fully allowed to go bonkers in the booth. Nothing too crazy. Quirky best friend stuff. I mean they eventually let her loose on Inner Willow and she fucking snapped!!! So the amazing emotional range that she was capable of was always THERE, waiting to be utilized. But then they kinda had to set her aside for the rest of the season and a chunk of next one.

But she's gotten so many golden moments since then. Humor and this bright optimistic determination and uncertainty and passive aggressiveness and devastation and sweetness and ANGER. Some of my fave s2 line reads from her that have so much personality include:

"The real Emperor was society all along..."

"I can do this! .....right?" (Turns out this shit was foreshadowing, wow.)

"Still think we're pathetic? :)"

"I....thought I could be good at this..."

"I didn't want to draw attention to Luz and Eda.... :/"

"I don't WANT your protection!!! I want you to see who I really am!!!!"

"Thanks, Hunter..." (I remember somebody saying after LR aired that if huntlow isn't canon then somebody needs to inform Tati Gabrielle because why does she say his name Like That?)

"There's always a way to help. You just have to look for the right opportunity <3"

But GOD YEAH!!! She's so good in FTF!!!! I love that she brings such a broad range of emotions. Tenderness and tenacity!!! One minute she's cooing over grass and the next she's threatening to punch Belos through the face!!!! I love her!!!!

That bright chipper tone of hers that gradually begins to fall apart as she's hit with blow after blow.

The quiet warmth of the photograph scene, following by how her voice quakes with hurt and humiliation and her transparent attempts to play it off like it's fine. Her angry outburst at Boscha. The whoooooooole vine scene. Everything about it!!! She's so good!!!!

(I especially love the quivering "Hello...?" when she realizes that Hunter and Gus aren't with her anymore. It really does emphasize her feelings of isolation and terror at the belief that said isolation is HER OWN FAULT. UGGHH!!!)

TATI GABRIELLE!!!!!!!!

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brokehorrorfan · 1 year

Photo

Batman: The Doom That Came to Gotham will be released on 4K Ultra HD, Blu-ray, and Digital on March 28 via Warner Bros. The all-new animated DC animated movie is based on the 2000 comic miniseries by Mike Mignola, Richard Pace, and Troy Nixey.

Christopher Berkeley (Young Justice) and Sam Liu (Batman: The Killing Joke) co-direct from a script by Jase Ricci (Teen Titans Go! & DC Super Hero Girls: Mayhem in the Multiverse).

It stars David Giuntoli as Batman, Tati Gabrielle as Kai Li Cain, Christopher Gorham as Oliver Queen, Patrick Fabian as Harvey Dent, John DiMaggio as James Gordon, and David Dastmalchian as Grendon.

The voice cast also includes Gideon Adlon as Oracle, Karan Brar as Sanjay Tawde, Jeffrey Combs as Kirk Langstrom, Darin De Paul as Thomas Wayne, Brian George as Alfred, Jason Marsden as Dick Grayson & Young Bruce Wayne, Navid Negahban as Ra’s al Ghul, Emily O’Brien as Talia al Ghul & Martha Wayne, Tim Russ as Lucius Fox, William Salyers as Cobbelpot & Professor Manfurd, and Matthew Waterson as Jason Blood/Etrigan.

Read on for the special features, trailer, and synopsis.

youtube

Special features:

Audio commentary by director Sam Liu, writer Jase Ricci, and more

Batman: Shadows of Gotham featurette

Batman: The Doom That Came To Gotham is a 1920s-based tale that finds explorer Bruce Wayne accidentally unleashing an ancient evil, expediting his return to Gotham City after a two-decade hiatus. The logic/science-driven Batman must battle Lovecraftian supernatural forces threatening the sheer existence of Gotham, along the way being aided and confronted by reimagined versions of his well-known allies and enemies, including Green Arrow, Ra’s al Ghul, Mr. Freeze, Killer Croc, Two-Face, James Gordon and Bruce’s beloved wards. Prepare for a mystical, often terrifying Batman adventure unlike any other.

Pre-order Batman: The Doom That Came to Gotham.

#batman #the doom that came to gotham #david guintoli #dc comics #mike mignola #dvd #gift #jeffrey combs #david dastmalchian #tati gabrielle #gideon adlon #christopher gorham #patrick fabian #john dimaggio #jason marsden

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dontforgetoctober3rd · 7 months

Text

Life Eternal (chapter 2)

This is an HOTD fanfic based off *another* fanfic, Second Sons by @avengingangelfanfic

Read the beginning here: Chapter 1

Rating: T for language, mentions of violence, alcohol consumption, mentions of arranged marriage (nothing else I think warrants a legit warning other that my writing is corny af. Like, I'm not being self-deprecating here. You might roll your eyes right out of your head lmaoooo)

Word count: 2900

Author's Note: Yes, I shoehorned even more videogame references in this one..... One of the names Jacaerys is called I pulled from Fallout: New Vegas and Catelyn's previously unnamed dragon is also from Skyrim, like her brother's.

Disclaimer: The events in this fic are NOT canon to the canon events of AvengingAngel's story! It was just an idea bouncing around and I asked for permission, which was graciously given (thank youuuu), to put it in words. Gif credits for any gifs used will be in the images themselves. With that in mind, thank you for reading.

Faceclaims:

Daemon Targaryen- Aemond as portrayed by Ewan Mitchell, except without the missing eye and his hair in a single ponytail

Royce Baratheon- King Edward from The Last Kingdom, as portrayed by Timothy Innes

Alphonse Baratheon- Osferth from The Last Kingdom, as portrayed by Ewan Mitchell

Catelyn Baratheon- Gemma Ward, circa 2023

King Jacaerys Targaryen- Aragorn as portrayed by Viggo Mortensen (Just imagine him with slightly grayer hair after the timeskip in this chapter lmao)

Daenerys Targaryen, granddaughter of Jacaerys- Marienne Bellamy as portrayed by Tati Gabrielle in season 4 of You (She literally has the perfect hair for this imo)

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

18 YEARS AGO…

The dragon pit buzzed with the huge crowd, everyone gathered to hear the new King speak on what the next step would be. War, surely.

Jacaerys felt like a boy of fifteen again, his fear causing a bitter taste in his mouth, making his chest thump with anxiety. His face remained blank, but inside, he was screaming and scared. How pathetic, he thought. He was King now and he was afraid, so very afraid.

It had been a fortnight since the loss of his mother and Daemon. Since his entire world had collapsed and the Crown Prince had made way for the King he apparently now was. Days of investigating and hearing all of King’s Landing grow more rage filled by the hour. Only five days since the funeral. King Wait-and-see, they had begun calling him. Others whispered the cruel moniker “King Craven”. Or so he had heard. The people were angry, that much he was certain of (Mostly due to the fact that no news had yet been relayed as to what the Crown planned on doing to avenge Queen Rhaenyra and her Lord Hand’s deaths), but Jacaerys wondered…how angry were they with him? A truly distraught son would be chomping at the bit for revenge, he thought bitterly. Instead of lingering about, doing what felt like nothing.

It was his queen who soothed him, quelling his dragon fire. Baela reassured him that only a few loud voices were the ones branding him with disrespectful names, that the majority of the smallfolk supported their new ruler and were just anxious for an answer concerning what was to come.

Well, they would have their answer now, Jacaerys thought.

Still, he hesitated.

Would they really fight for him? Would they love him as much as his mother and Daemon? He felt such a heavy weight in his heart despite Baela’s fiercely reiterated beliefs over these last few days that the people of Westeros would follow their King to the seven hells, if need be. “I certainly would.” She had said, clenching his face and holding his gaze with those blazing eyes he loved oh so dearly.

The crowd continued their murmuring. Jacaerys let himself gaze over them for a moment. His mother always seemed to know just what to say, what to do, in any situation. How could he possibly measure up to her? To Daemon? More than anything, he wished he could ask them for advice, but they were no longer here to give it.

Aemond, newly made Hand of the King, along with the rest of the Targaryens, stayed behind at the Red Keep and conferred with the war council, seeing to it that Jacaery’s orders were followed. Only Baela came with Jacaerys to the dragon pit.

It helped his crippling feelings of inadequacy, to have her here with him. No other could possibly know, could see him as the terrified man he currently was. Especially not his own son, Aemon, now first in line for the throne.

Raising a hand to silence the crowd, King Jacaerys Targaryen stood for a few minutes until the murmuring and whispers died down to nothing. Then he spoke.

---------- STORM'S END, PRESENT DAY----------

Every member of the royal family was making their way to the Red Keep for the nameday celebrations of Aegon the Elder’s twins. Daenerys, Aemon’s daughter by his sister-wife Daella, had stopped by Storm’s End the first week Daemon had been there (she was returning from Dorne). In that week, dinners had been full of laughter and jokes.

Daemon felt lighter and happier than he had in months.

“Your mother cheated whenever she trained with your father.” Daenerys had told him over dinner one night.

“No!” Daemon cried. He was just recovering from laughing at the story of everyone spying on Aemond while he asked for Lyanna’s hand. “What happened to the ‘ absolute paragon of honor’ that I kept reading about in every damned history?!”

“Your mother was as honorable as they come, but the cheating in the training yard?” Royce said, ever so slightly drunk. “Oh, she resorted to that every chance she got. I would too, to be honest BUT she was an honorable lady, I promise you!”

“Hmm, certainly wasn’t very honorable of her to toss a book at our Lord of Driftmark and give him a black eye.” Daenerys added, slicing into her lamb. Royce spit his wine laughing.

“WHAT?!” Daemon cried.

“Grandsire told me. When Lyanna carried your sister Catelyn, she was rather quick to burn.” Daenerys said with a sly grin. “Oh, our Aemond had to take her dagger and sword away.”

“Whatever happened to that dagger?” Daemon asked. He silently pondered for a moment, the boisterous humor in the atmosphere having been immediately replaced with a relaxed nature as desserts were brought to the table. No one was uncomfortable at this. They were family, after all.

“Alphonse has it.” Daenerys looked to Daemon.

Daemon was frozen. No…Alphonse would have told him so! Wouldn’t he? Then again, he had never thought to ask of it himself. How could he fault his nephew for his own inaction?

Daenerys continued “Of course, if grandsire had not decreed to leave you alone concerning stories of your parents, I’m sure he would have told you. Alphonse is the type to have informed you the moment he himself knew.”

Oh…oh, of course. The decree.

“If you will both excuse me, I think the ale did not agree with me. I will retire for the night. Daella, will you join us hunting pheasant tomorrow?” Royce said, swaying as he stood but still somehow in possession of enough of his faculties to speak coherently.

“I am Daenerys, my lord.” came the response, with a chuckle.

“Oh! So you are. My apologies!” Royce burped and quickly begged their pardons. An attendant hurried to his side to escort him to his chambers.

“Unfortunately, though, I must away to King’s Landing tomorrow.” Daenerys said, as Royce was led away. “Pressing matters to do with my works in Dorne. I fear my horse might run away without me if I stay longer, she is not fond of storms.”

“Oh, very well!” Royce called from down the hall he was led in. “I shall see you at the nameday hunt in a few weeks time! Daemon, I shall see you tomorrow!”

“You knew all this time, that Alphonse had my mother’s dagger?!” Daemon accused, once Royce had gone. “Why on earth would he tell you about it? It doesn’t seem like information that is of much use to you.” Annoyed, he jabbed at his slice of sweet cake.

Daenerys raised an eyebrow. “Why are you irritated with me? I’m not the one in possession of it!”

The dagger was not the main issue, Daemon thought. The fact that Daenerys knew his nephew had it…not many knew that, he was sure. Why in the seven hells would a dagger, even one belonging to his mother, be a regular topic of conversation? A great deal of time would have to be spent together for the subject to even come up casually. And why had she come to Storm’s End before King’s Landing? She did not answer to orders from Lord Royce and she was not particularly close to him. Nor had she known Daemon would be there…

Daemon rolled his eyes and continued to eat his cake. The two Targaryens slipped into a comfortable silence but Daemon’s mind was restless. He had learned so much of his parents these past few days. Their courtship made him want to tear his hair out. How could they not have seen it for so long? It was maddening…and somehow, it was happening again.

Alphonse and Daenerys pined for each other. He was sure of it. Yet, both refused to give voice to their desires and become officially betrothed.

Before, Daemon had been content to leave them be, confident that they would eventually sort it out themselves. He had confronted Alphonse about it several times long ago and each time his nephew had insisted he would resolve the issue himself.

Daemon had never confronted Dany about it, he’d sooner fight his dragon naked. Others did not know who the object of Alphonse’s affection was and simply took this to mean Alphonse was nervous around maidens.

“Do you…are you fond of men?” Daemon had asked him once, before he understood the situation. Alphonse had buried his face in his hands.

“No! If I were, I am certain I would not have the issue I do now.”

And so Daemon had listened as Alphonse poured out his heart, lamenting the fact that Daenerys would never be with him because she had vowed she would never marry again after the death of her husband.

Daemon contemplated his plan of attack on the matter as Dany excused herself from the table to go to sleep.

Everyone was approaching this all wrong, he thought. They were hounding Alphonse to find a bride but since no one but they three knew he was in love with Daenerys, none of them had even approached her to make a move. It was clear what the solution was: the prospective bride herself would have to ask for the hand of Alphonse Baratheon. Propriety be damned.

Daemon made the decision then: when he would leave in a few weeks, he was determined to go straight to Daenerys and inform her that she must ask his nephew to marry her. To do so here in his good brother’s home, Alphonse’s own father, would be terrible manners. They’d already be stomping on tradition enough as it was, no need to add to it. He suspected Catelyn would foam at the mouth with rage that her son wasn’t the one doing the asking, but that did not matter. What mattered was love. Real, true love. Like the one his parents had shared. No one, not kings or lords or ladies or thousands of years of precedence, should stand in the way of that.

----------KING'S LANDING, ONE MONTH LATER----------

The mostly empty dragonpit upper chamber echoed with the rumbles of Caraxes and Alduin, Catelyn’s fearsome jet black dragon, stomping off to the caverns below.

Jacaerys stood a ways near the entrance doors, smiling at his cousins’ arrival.

It had been a month since Daemon had gone to Storm’s End. He would return in time for Jahaerys and Jahaera’s nameday celebration in one week, Catelyn and Alphonse choosing to go directly to King’s Landing to save themselves a trip and to deliver results of their negotiations in Braavos.

“Your Grace! I am famished for a genuine Westerosi lemon cake!” Catelyn declared, marching over, already undoing her braid. Alphonse followed beside her, laughing. “Our Braavosi allies, seven help them, do not have the slightest clue as to the proper ratio of sweetness to tanginess that a well made lemon cake should have,” Catelyn complained. “I almost fumbled our trade deals, having to suffer eating such bland pastries.”

“I appreciate what you have endured to gain good prices for our people, cousin.” Jacaerys joked, accepting Alphonse into a hug and then Catelyn. “Aegon will certainly appreciate it, I know. He is having the time of his life, planning this upcoming hunt. Claims it will rival the one for his second nameday!”

“How would he know how lavish it was?” Alphonse asked.

“I certainly don’t remember my own second nameday. Perhaps he should plan my wedding, when I have it. Please ask him for me, cousin.” The three made their way out of the large building, guards waiting outside with an open, topless carriage.

“Firstly, records of such events exist. Secondly, Aegon is like to have an apoplexy if Jacaerys asks that of him.” Catelyn said, climbing in first with the help of a guard. “Being Master of Revels here is his true calling. Far too many Lords and Ladies to host for him to go gallivanting off elsewhere to plan a wedding.”

“Mother, you only say that because you have had my wedding planned since the day I was born and do not wish to be usurped from further preparations.” Alphonse grumbled.

“Hmm..” Jacaerys looked to the skies, Catelyn and Alphonse stopping their bickering for a moment, looking in the same direction. A swift, vibrant white dragon was flying towards the open nesting grounds a little ways south of the city. Daemon had come.

Jacaerys climbed into the wagon next, sitting in front of Catelyn.

“Has he written?” Alphonse asked, finally climbing in last and seating himself next to his mother, looking to Jacaerys as the wagon began to move. Guards on horses flanked both sides, trotting in pace with it. Catelyn continued to look at Parthurnaax fading into the distance.

“Not one raven, but Lord Royce has. He assures me the talks were pleasant..mostly. Daemon was eager to know many things. They went for a great many walks and had countless dinners running late into the night.”

“No doubt Royce will follow soon after on horseback.” Catelyn said, giving a small wave and smile to the people. Many had now noticed the wagon containing the King driving by. “My husband never was fond of traveling on dragonback. The war was the only time he mounted Alduin with me. I fear it may have ruined his experience with flying.”

Jacaerys nodded with a smile. He knew Catelyn was avoiding it, talking of Daemon and the questions he would have of Aemond and Lyanna for all of them when he got to the keep. No matter. He would not force things.

“Now father is coming, perhaps you and him can see to the matter of arranging a marriage for me at-” Alphonse began, before abruptly being cut off by Catelyn. She held up a stiff finger in his face. Her own parents had been a love match and she was determined that each of her boys would have the same fate. Her youngest, Orys, had already married. Her other two sons were currently courting twin daughters in Dorne, grandchildren of Prince Doran.

“You are four and twenty. You will find your bride to be on your own. How can you expect to be Lord of Storm’s End one day if you cannot even do this?” Catelyn scolded. “If we choose one for you, she might be the wrong fit. The Stormlands would suffer if their Lord is too busy preoccupied with the conflict of a sour marriage. No, you will do this yourself, Alphonse.”

“Mother, but I need-”

“Alphonse, Orys chose Margaery Tyrell himself, despite other maidens flocking around him. I suspect he will become a father before the year is out. You will make your own match. This matter is closed.”

“But Aemon had his marriage arranged! So did Lady Rhaena with Lord Lucerys! I don’t see why-”

“I do believe the Lady has spoken, Alphonse.” Jacaerys said, in a now stern tone. Alphonse looked to him pleadingly.

“Cousin, please. You could-”

“Each Lord’s and Lady’s habits are their own.” Jacaerys said, cutting him off. “I trust each of them to run my kingdom well and I will not interfere unless it is to avert disaster or right egregious wrongs, as is my duty. You being too nervous to approach a prospective future wife hardly qualifies as a matter that needs my attention.” Jacaerys shrugged and waved to the smallfolk lining the streets. “Especially when you have three brothers who could take up the mantle of Lord…should you fail in your responsibilities to marry and sire heirs.”

That final admonishment had its effect and Alphonse nodded in a defeated manner. Jacaerys acknowledged his response, continuing his waves to the people of King’s Landing.

It never ended, this guiding of the younger generation, Jacaerys thought. At 15, he could barely make his own brothers behave. Much yelling had been used at the time. Now at 60, he seldom saw the need to raise his voice in court or around family. He corralled and kept his loved ones in line with such an ease he was sure his late stepfather would have been impressed.

As the wagon slowed coming into the Red Keep, Catelyn hopped off immediately, irritated. Jacaerys bade Alphonse to stay a moment. “You are a handsome man, able with the sword and skilled with the bow.” He began in a low voice, only for them two. “You ride Caraxes. You are kind and quick to make a joke. Whatever could you possibly think is counting against you in finding a bride?” he asked, a hand on Alphonse’s shoulder.

Alphonse mumbled something Jacaerys couldn’t quite hear.

“Come again?”

“...I said…the fact she does not wish to marry, for one…” Alphonse managed to say, barely loud enough to hear. He was still looking anywhere but in the eyes of his King.

Jacaerys paled. Alphonse could only be speaking of one person. His only granddaughter by Aemon, Daenerys…the complete opposite of her namesake in attitude, who declared every chance she could get that she would never marry again, no one would make her. Already widowed at eight and twenty, with no dragon and no children…Gods be good…

“Oh, does he know now?” came the voice from the gates. Jacaerys and Alphonse snapped to attention of the speaker. There stood Daemon Targaryen, windswept and grinning ear to ear.

“Uncle!” Alphonse cried, leaping from the wagon. Jacaerys smiled at the two reuniting, still in quite a shock at the recent development. Why on earth Alphonse thought springing a betrothal on Daenerys through him would work…It was beyond all sense…

The upcoming hunt was sure to be interesting.

#fanfic based on fanfic #hotd fanfic #second sons by avengingangel #hotd ocs #avengingangelfanfic #fanfiction #honest to god i did NOT plan on this going beyond that first little drabble i wrote!#but the thoughts would not stop #i had to get them out hahaha #look if the only way to improve my writing is to embarrass myself on this hellsite then SO BE IT

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agapintheskin · 1 year

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This goes to some of you. If I'm not talking to you just move on and don't start a discussion.

I'm a very sex positive person. I do not go around yelling "fetishism" and "sexualisation" all day, okay? I think anything consensual is good and I mean that. Any fantasies you have, have them. Go at it.

Here's the thing tho. I can read your replies, tags, additions to posts. If you write down your little fanfictions and fantasies ON MY POST I will see them. And I did in fact not consent to seeing your sexual fantasies.

I don't mind if you smash the keys or get a little rowdy, don't get me wrong, but I don't want to read about cocks and sucking and fucking while I'm sitting on the couch checking tumblr drinking my morning coffee (read this in the Tati voice I dare u). Please, there's platforms for that, go to your gc, your ao3s, if you have to write it in your god damn diarys and notes apps.

Like some of you either don't realise I see it, or, and that's worse, you KNOW that I can see it and do it anyway, which honestly, is kinda harassment if you ask me. Like you make me feel a lil uneasy at times.

No offense, really, you do you boo, but maybe try and keep some things to the people that actually want to read and know about it. Thank you.

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kopw · 1 year

Note

nick.

1 there's this like site-wide consensus on the bucks can i call it fanon it sounds a bit silly when i put it like that but you know. anyway i've come to realize that a lot of the time i just don't agree with that. like i will come on here and read posts and i'll go tati westbrook voice oh my god

2 ties into the first point but more specifically if you're one of those people who only likes nick as an accessory to matt...

#surprisingly no bingo

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pbandjesse · 10 months

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I'm back in my hammock. I love my hammock. I miss being next to my James but I am happy right now. For the most part today was really nice. It was a good day.

I slept alright. I remember falling asleep and it was a solid night's rest. I woke up before my alarm. And would get out of bed a few minutes early. James came and made the bed while I got dressed. I really liked my outfit today. I felt pretty. I felt good.

James would walk out with me. And I decided to stop for breakfast even though I really didn't want to eat. I knew I needed too. I decided to get orange juice instead of soda but that was like $3 for some reason. And while it was fine oj, I don't think I'll do that again.

I had a nice drive to camp. I found a new band, called Hot Mulligan, and I've been enjoying them a lot. They have like the perfect 2006 emo sound. It's great. Very nostalgic.

I was a little frustrated when I got to camp. My outlets got overused last night when they tried to play a movie. But they didn't actually fix them. Which is whatever, I was able to fix them. But my issue really was that they unplugged my cord that goes to my fridge!! Rude. Thankfully it was fine but it makes me annoyed when people unplug things and don't put them back.

I went to the office to voice my displeasure. Elizabeth agreed it was very rude and she apologized on behalf of whoever did that. And I decided I would take a walk to calm down.

I went and ate berries. I love wine berries. They are my favorite berry. I enjoyed my walk. And I went to pet Quakers the duck and the goats. Who yelled at me when I walked away. But I was happy to pet them for a while.

I went back to the art building and laid in my outside hammock until Tati got there. I would finish my book today and got started on the new one. Which made me really happy. I had more time to read today and that felt good.

Tati was very helpful today, and she made some fun art with found objects. I have to hold myself back when I was to be weird about supplies. Because she's not wasting things, she's using them and that is fine but I am just feeling possessive for no reason so I am trying to let it go. I'm glad she's making art. That is what I shall focus on even if my brain is like. Fear!! Loss!! Control!! Its unnecessary, everything is fine.

And she was a big help. I was able to just focus on what was happening in the building and did my machine sewing and things were very good. Even if both my morning groups were 15 minutes late, everyone finished their little bad and it made me very happy.

I had my breakfast sandwich for lunch and hung in my hammock. Eventually Trista came to use a hammock. And Ty would join us too. We all chatted for a while. And eventually, sadly, it was time for our groups.

I would have a kid doing tipi wakan today and I felt bad I didn't have as much stuff for him to help with. But the things he helped with were excellent. He did sorting and folding fabric and just those little things that I haven't been doing but needed to be done. And when we had day camp groups he was a big help with the finishing work and putting on buttons and it was nice to have the help. So it wasn't all on Tati.

I would read during my break. And I felt excited to do the metal casting with the boys. I am for sure going to need more metal if I'm gonna do this another week. I am going to go and try to have a conversation about that tomorrow with the office. But once the boys got started they did so good. Like it was so fun. No everyone's worked exactly right, but we are getting the hang of it. Coined shapes work best, and we were able to make some fun little pieces. I love when the boys make things for their girlfriends. It's so cute. But it was just a lot of fun. And everyone did a good job.

After the last day camp group I had my tipi wakan kid work on a shield painting while I went and read my book for a half hour. And then we would finish the day with the horse girls.

I taught a few of them how to widdle and use a knife. So I was able to sign off on their knife skills portion of their tipi wakan paper. And all the girls did really good. Celia would come and join us and we shared photos of the mushroom I found this morning. When I found it it was so round but when she came by later it was all tall and flat!! So strange!

Dinner was pretty good. I was so happy we had vegetable spring rolls and I could have them!! Me and Ty would help with hand out seconds. I had two scoopers for rice and was having fun handing it out.

We got cookies for dessert. I wanted an ice cream but it's fine. I got my cookie and came up here to lay in the dark because my head hurt.

And my eyes still hurts. But it's fine. Ty came up and we talked for a long time and he filled me in on gossip and things going on around camp that I didn't know. He's a sweet boy and I don't like that there has been stuff that's bothered him. He's going to make a proposal to the office about expanding the bird enclosure so that Rocky, the turkey, can be with the other birds. I hope they go for it.

Now I am laying in my hammock. And I am very much ready to sleep. Ty just came by to get his apples he forgot on my table. But now is time for sleep.

I hope tomorrow is good. Maybe I'll get to swim before it starts storming again. It's supposed to start tomorrow night and basically storm all Friday. We'll see what happens. I just hope it's fun.

Sleep well everyone. I hope you are taking care of yourself!!

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artificialqueens · 2 years

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Galactica, Chapter 100 (Group Fic) - TheDane/Veronica

A/N: Click here if you’re looking for previous chapters (or here if you’d rather read on AO3). Hello everyone! This is chapter 100. 1-0-0! That's absolutely insane, and we're so thankful you as a reader is still here. Thank you for reading along, and for enjoying the story Veronica and I have written. We hope you'll continue to love reading it as much as we love writing it. 💫

Previously: Raven ran her mouth about how much she hates Courtney—at a Marie Claire photo shoot where Bianca happened to overhear the worst of it.

This Chapter: Bianca makes good on her threat. Shit hits the fan. The usual.

***

“Get off. My set.” Bianca’s voice was low, probably would have been very scary and intimidating to anyone else.

But Raven wasn’t some fresh-faced ingenue, and the idea of actually being kicked off a set was laughable. Especially considering that Courtney was still well out of earshot, chattering with her model friend on the other side of the studio. “Very funny, Bibi.”

“Do I look like I’m kidding?” she turned to the tiny PA from earlier, saying. “Go get her things. Now.”

The girl took a few steps backward, then turned and practically ran towards the greenroom.

“Look, if it bothers you that much, I’ll stop talking about your precious little darling. Didn’t think you were so thin-skinned, or one for censorship, but…”

Bianca narrowed her eyes, walked away a few paces, and whipped out her phone.

“What are you doing?” Raven asked. Amy had stepped back, and the hair person had also stopped working. Raven looked at both of them crossly, ordering, “Well, keep going.”

Amy swallowed, frozen, and Raven let out a scoff of disbelief. Did they actually think Bianca was serious?

“Hi, Jonathan, it’s Bianca,” Bianca said into the phone. “We’re in the middle of the makeup editorial and I just had to fire someone. Can you have another girl here within 40 minutes? The brunette we considered, with the- Yes, exactly. Wonderful.”

Raven groaned, an unsettled feeling growing in her stomach, but she refused to believe this was anything other than Bianca being dramatic. Regardless, it was getting embarrassing. Alyssa Edwards had caught wind of the situation and now seemed to be watching it all unfold while sipping her Red Bull.

“Bianca, stop it. I’m sorry I insulted your little bimbo, alright? But-”

Bianca let out an incredulous noise, turning on her heel, towards the PA who hurried over, her arms full of Raven’s coat and weekender bag, the items making her seem even smaller.

“Thank you, Emily. Can you please make sure that Ms. Petruschin gets into a town car safely?”

“Um…” the girl nodded, terrified.

“Bianca!” Raven snapped, now thoroughly irritated. “This is my career!”

Bianca turned slowly and stepped back up to Raven, her voice still low, and said, “If I were you, I would leave now, quietly, without saying another fucking word.”

Raven’s stomach dropped, realizing how real this situation was, how utterly humiliating. She stood up, carefully avoiding the many pairs of eyes on her, took her coat and bag, and stormed from the studio.

“What was that?!” Tati exclaimed, as she and Courtney watched Raven marching from the room.

“I…I don’t know,” Courtney answered.

Bianca was in a huddle with Alaska, Alyssa and the photographer, and most of the crew looked a little shell-shocked, moving at about half the speed they were before. The models, especially Tati’s roommates, looked terrified. What had happened?

“I’m gonna go find out! But you…you look so great, and I know your meeting is gonna be awesome.” Tati leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her cheek.

“You too! Break a leg today, you look incredible!” Courtney exclaimed.

“Look at us, living the dream!” Tati giggled, and Courtney squeezed her hands, letting out a little squeal. “Bye, babe, knock ‘em dead.”

“Thanks.” Courtney let go of Tati’s hands and then cautiously approached the monitor where Bianca stood. She hung back, not wanting to interrupt.

“As long as you’re taking the heat,” Alyssa was saying, “Since I value my job.”

“Of course I will,” Bianca replied. “Don’t worry about that.”

“Well, we’re gonna worry. That’s Raja’s fiancée!” Alaska said, brow furrowed. “Not to mention that she’s been the face of the company for so many-”

“I know, I know,” Bianca said. “Look, guys, I promise that they won’t blame either one of you, okay? This is a Marie Claire shoot, it was my call. And we’ll have another girl here soon. Are you good to start with some of the smaller set-ups first?” Bianca asked, turning to the photographer.

“Yes ma’am,” he replied. “Schedule is fine, as far as I’m concerned.”

“Well, okay then!” Bianca slapped her hands together. “Let’s just all move on, okay? Pretend this shit never happened.”

Alyssa nodded. “But…who’s gonna tell-”

“I’ll go call Sutan, okay? Let him break the news to Raja.”

“You’re evil!” Alaska exclaimed.

“No, she’s smart. He’s the one person Raja won’t kill,” Alyssa said.

“Exactly.” Bianca winked and then broke away from the group, her grin growing when she saw Courtney. “Hi, angel. Did you get a chance to talk to Tatianna?”

“Um, yeah. What was that all about, though? Did you-”

“Don’t worry about it.” Bianca pressed a kiss to her upturned cheek. “Come on, let’s grab a cup of coffee before you have to go.”

“Okay, but did it-”

“She was being a cunt. End of story. I know it might be hard to imagine, but…”

Courtney let out a dry chuckle as Bianca rolled her eyes.

“But it’s over now,” Bianca continued.

Courtney still had questions, but it seemed like it would be better to put everything out of her mind, at least until her meeting was over.

“Okay.”

***

Raven practically slammed Sutan’s door open, her ears ringing as she stormed into his office.

“Sutan!” The entire ride over, Raven’s stomach had been a volcano about to erupt, anger whirling around her body, “We are NOT going to take-”

She was cut off as Sutan held up a hand, Raven noticing for the first time that he was on the phone, holding it between his shoulder and ear. He was only half visible, sitting on the fire escape, a lit cigarette in his other hand.

“And then what? No, no Gigi, I promise you’re not in trouble. Thank you for telling me…Yes. Yes. Good…Yes we can talk tomorrow…Thanks again. You did exactly what you were supposed to today…Right. Goodbye.” Sutan hung up, putting out his cigarette and stuffing his phone in his pocket as he crawled back in through the window. “Fuck, Raven, I swear to god-”

"Tan, I wasn't doing anything wrong!” Raven dumped her handbag on Sutan’s desk, “Just chatting about her prosti-tot girlfriend-"

"I’m going to stop you right there,” Sutan crossed his arms, an exasperated sigh leaving him. “What exactly did you think I meant when I explicitly told you to be on your best behavior today?"

"But she was wearing sequins in the daytime-"

"I don't give a fuck what she was wearing!” he bellowed. “This isn't about her!”

Raven shrank, Sutan never ever raising his voice, especially not at her. Raven knew she was whining, she just couldn’t help it. Sure, Sutan had told her not to rock the boat, but everything was so extremely unfair.

“This is about the fact that Bianca was your boss today, and you pissed her off, and that's totally unacceptable!"

“Sutan, this whole thing is ridiculous, you need to-”

“I need to?” Sutan cut her off, his eyes narrowed, his tone icy cold. “Oh no. You’re the one who needs to. Sit down,” He snapped, pointing at a chair, “right now, so I can explain the very basics of how a modeling agency works, because you, my dear, have obviously forgotten.”

“But-” Raven swallowed, only just realizing that she had sat down when Sutan had told her to, her body acting on its own. “You can’t take her side over mine!”

“Her side? Your side? I don’t care about your petty argument,” Sutan sat down at the edge of his desk, his legs practically touching Raven’s knees, the man towering over her. “I’m taking my side, I’m taking Elite’s side. You know why?”

Raven didn’t do anything, couldn’t do anything, a lump in her throat.

“Because that side is the people who employ you, who get you work, who make sure both of us have an income. Do you know how big of a commission you lost Elite today? ”

“Bianca should still pay-” Raven protested, hurt and anger crashing together in her chest, not a trace of her friend or even her soon to be brother-in-law in front of her, Sutan a company man through and through.

“She’s not going to, and I’m not going to fight her. This is Marie Claire we’re talking about Raven, one of the biggest magazines in America, and in the world. Do you have any idea how much money they spend on Elite girls a year? The only reason we’re not in unfathomable shit right now, is that Bianca thankfully has enough respect for me,” Sutan tapped his own chest, “not to run her mouth.”

“This isn’t fair-”

“Fair? You think this is about fair? You’re not a child, hell you’re not even a teen. You’re turning 29 in a few months, which means you’re almost 30. Do you know why anyone books models pushing 30?”

Raven pressed her lips together as Sutan continued to rant at her.

“Let me tell you. It’s because of recognition,” Sutan counted on his fingers, “reputation, a good work relationship, respect, professionalism, and what you did today was beyond unprofessional. I don’t care how you feel about Courtney, I don’t care what goes on in your personal life! When you’re at work, you’re at work, and if word about this behavior gets out, I’d say you can wave goodbye to editorial work and especially to commercial work.”

Raven swallowed, her stomach hurting. What Sutan was saying couldn’t be true, though he never lied to her.

“Do you know what happens if work dries up?”

“Yes,” Raven felt like a child, felt like she was lower than low.

“If this ever, and I mean ever, happens again, you’re done.”

“What?” Raven’s eyes widened. “You can’t say that, I still have a great-”

“A great what? Reputation? Work record? You have a fair record Raven. You’re petulant, you’re moody and you’re spoiled, hell, I’ve spoiled you.” Sutan sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Usually, it’s not a problem, because you’re also a good fucking model who knows her shit and delivers results, but you’re not a kid anymore. If I wanted to, I could find someone younger, easier and cheaper to take any spot you have in five minutes. Just like Jonathan did. The girl he sent to replace you? Barely 20 years old. Do you understand that? You’re replaceable.”

“Yes,” Raven swallowed, holding back tears.

“Modeling,” Sutan explained, his voice taking on a patronizing tone as his initial anger faded, “is not like other professions. Your value doesn’t increase with age and experience. You hit a peak, and then it’s downhill. Do you think you’ve hit that peak?”

“I…I don’t know.”

“I guess we’ll see. But if I were you,” Sutan stood up, walking around his desk. “I’d spend some serious time considering my next career move.”

“What?” Raven felt her jaw drop, her eyes betraying her as she felt tears run down her cheeks, destroying her makeup.

“I’ll talk to Bianca again. Make sure she’s holding tight.” Sutan sat down at his desk, sighing heavily. “You can go, I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Right.” Raven got up, all the fire completely gone.

“Oh, and Raven?”

“Mmh?” Raven turned around, to see Sutan holding her bag out to her, two fingers on the strap.

“Don’t start another handbag line. There’s enough of those already.”

***

“Miss Fame’s office,” Nicky announced, clicking on her headset.

“Yeah. Hi. Is Raja there? Ivy said she’s there,” said a man.

“Who’s calling?”

“Sutan. Sutan Amrull. I need to talk to her.”

Nicky knew that Sutan was on the approved list, but Miss Fame had been very clear about having zero interruptions during their meeting, as they finalized the running order for next week’s show.

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Amrull, but Raja is with Miss Fame in a closed-door meeting. I can-“ Nicky’s voice was cut off as Violet snatched up the receiver on her own desk, gesturing aggressively for her to hang up.

Nicky stifled her slightly annoyed sigh as she clicked off her headset. For the most part, she was feeling quite confident in her new job, but despite the binders and binders of information she’d basically memorized, there were still always a few mysterious things that Violet refused to fill her in on—sometimes out of what seemed like a misguided need to protect her. Other times it was just because she was a vault, ‘none of your business’ apparently one of Violet’s mottos in life.

Nicky supposed that once Violet returned to design, she’d learn these things on her own.

She watched Violet curiously, trying to glean what little she could from her end of the conversation.

“Sutan? Yes. Yes it’s me. What’s wrong?” Violet asked, and Nicky cocked her head, unable to hide her surprise.

One thing she’d learned very quickly was how incredibly formal Violet was—a lot of “yes ma’am” and “no sir,” and addressing everyone as Mr. So and So or Ms. Whatever. At Tory Burch, she’d been instructed to call everyone by their first names unless requested otherwise, but at Galactica, or specifically Miss Fame’s office, it seemed that business formal was the law of the land. So hearing Violet speak so casually, her tone so familiar, with this senior agent from Elite, was very strange indeed.

“They’re in a meeting, but-” Violet had switched to her own headset and was now pacing around the office. “If you’re aware, then why-” Violet bit her lip, stopping in her tracks. “Shit.”

Nicky’s eyes widened. What on earth was going on today?

Violet looked at Miss Fame’s closed door. “Yeah. Yeah. I can interrupt, but- Okay. Just make sure I look pretty at the funeral,” she said, ending the call with a dry, joyless chuckle, adding, “I will.”

She put the line on hold and then pulled off her headset, taking a deep breath.

“Violet, what-” Nicky stopped talking immediately when Violet flashed her a dangerous look, pressing her lips together.

Violet turned back to the door, swallowed, and then stepped up to knock.

“I guess I’m just not sure if I enjoy this,” Fame sighed, leaning back on the couch, resting her head on her hand, her elbow digging into the armrest. The printed photo in her hands was one of many from the styling session Raja had all day yesterday at the showroom. She dropped it in her lap with a sigh.

They had decided to pull them out to take a break from finalizing the model placements, but it hadn’t been the mood lifter Fame had hoped for.

“The way they’re using the belt, it’s-“

“Fame,” Raja cut her off gently. They had been at it for a while, the other woman right next to her on the couch. She was wearing a blue suit, her hair in a high braid, golden bangles on her wrists. “You have to accept that celebrities have their own style.”

“These aren’t celebrities,” Fame grumbled. She knew Raja had done an amazing job, working with a curated selection of influencers, models and other industry people to make sure that the Galactica brand would be well represented on the street style level too. “All I’m saying is-“

Fame was cut off, as a succession of quick knocks hit the door, Violet not even giving her time to respond before she had opened it and stepped inside Fame’s office.

“Violet!” Fame huffed. “What on earth are you doing? You know better than to interrupt-“

“I have Sutan on Line 1-” Violet gestured to the guest phone, the yellow light blinking, but Fame barely gave it a glance before turning back to Violet, annoyed.

“Well, tell him I’ll call back when I’m finished,” Fame snapped, wondering why, after all this time, she needed to give Violet a lecture on boundaries. A “closed-door meeting” meant a closed-door meeting, even if she was dating the man who had called.

“He’s on for Raja.”

“What?” Raja sat up straight, her eyes widening, and Fame’s annoyance immediately disappeared. Raja dove into her bag, pulling it up from underneath the table and rummaging around for her cell. When she pulled it out, Fame’s heart sank as she saw several missed calls from Sutan.

“Fuck!” Raja shot off the couch, nearly knocking into the coffee table to snatch up the receiver from the guest phone, Fame’s heart in her throat. The last time Sutan had been this insistent in reaching his sister right away, their mom had suffered a heat stroke while playing badminton at her local club.

The twins tried to play it off, tried to pretend that they were okay, but their father’s death had left open wounds in both of them, Raja still clearly blaming herself for the fact that they had been abroad when he collapsed the first time.

Raja pressed the phone to her ear, instantly launching off in Indonesian, Fame barely even noticing how Violet had already left the office and shut the door behind her, giving them the illusion of privacy.

“Is everything-“ Fame was on the edge of her seat, but Raja simply held her hand up, looking so much like her brother as she listened to him on the phone, her eyes closed.

Fame saw it happen, Raja’s shoulder sagging, a huge sigh of relief leaving her as she turned to Fame. “She’s okay.”

“Oh thank god,” Fame put her hands together in a praying position, thanking the universe that Murni was okay. “Then why-”

“Right,” Raja returned to the phone, and switched back to Indonesian, Fame biting back a smile as she caught words like ‘fuck,’ Raja clearly annoyed with her brother. Fame had almost turned her attention back to the photos, when she heard Raven’s name mentioned, Raja’s eyes widening. “Bianca what?!”

“What?” Fame sat up straight, even contemplating getting up from the couch. “Raja, what-”

“That fucking cow!” Raja groaned, rubbing a hand over her face. “I’m gonna-fine, what? Tell me exactly what happened!” Raja was practically making a hole in the carpet, walking in a tight circle, and Fame had to sit on her hands, watching her friend’s face as she talked to her brother, Raja switching between anger, annoyance, and even embarrassment for a brief second, something almost like sorrow settling on her features.

Fame heard her name, and she couldn’t take it anymore.

“Raja-” Fame got up, walking over. She never usually minded when the twins flip flopped between Indonesian and English, but right now it was setting her nerves on fire. “Please-”

“Yes, yes, yes, I love you too.” Raja hung up, a deep sigh leaving her.

Fame reached out, tugging on Raja’s elbow, her fingers digging into the material of her suit. “What happened?”

“Bianca fired Raven today, from the makeup editorial.”

“What?!”

“Yeah. Apparently she overheard Raven talking some shit about Courtney.”

Fame opened her mouth, her head shaking in disbelief, before saying, “So once again, she’s prioritizing that little bimbo over us. All of us.” She couldn’t believe how close she’d been to caving, to reaching out, after talking to Juju. Well, not after this.

“Seems that way, yeah,” Raja sighed.

“What are you gonna do? Or say? I assume something, right?”

“Well…Tan made me promise not to.”

“Why?! He’s not taking her side, is he? Because-”

“No no no no, nothing like that. He’s just being pragmatic, you know.” Raja rolled her eyes. “Elite gets a lot of business from Marie Claire, blah blah blah.”

“Right.” Fame folded her hands, muttering, “What a bitch.”

“Tell me about it!” Raja grumbled.

***

“Alright, so,” Latrice put her latte down at the little cafe table and sat down, Courtney perching on a chair across from her with a green smoothie that looked absolutely horrible, but maybe explained why she was about 4 pounds soaking wet. “I think that went well. How do you feel?”

Courtney gazed at her with that heart-eyed expression that she’d seen in too many young performers over the years, who were sadly unused to having someone in their corner, advocating for them.

“You’re amazing,” she breathed.

“I know, I know,” Latrice said with a laugh.

“Um…” Courtney bit her lip, clearing her throat. She picked off a tiny piece of muffin, but then dropped it to the plate instead of eating it.

“Are you alright? What’s on your mind?” Latrice asked. She was an intuitive person, but even a complete idiot would be able to see that Courtney was worried about something.

“It’s just that…I think…I mean, do you think you’d be willing to work with me long term?” she asked softly.

They’d made an agreement when they first spoke, that Latrice would negotiate Courtney’s contract with Island Records for a flat fee. She already had a pretty full roster, and didn’t like to offer anything she couldn’t deliver at 110%. More importantly, she didn’t know anything about Courtney’s potential. She’d heard a few snippets from her demo, but she’d never seen her on stage.

On the other hand, she’d been extremely impressed with what she had seen. The kid was obviously smart—the questions she asked about her contract had been insightful and savvy (especially considering her lack of experience), and Olivia had only good things to say about her.

Plus, from a purely cynical business perspective…her face alone could take her pretty far, even if she ended up being a lost cause in the recording world.

“Well…I’ve never seen you perform,” Latrice told her, “So that makes it a little hard to commit to developing your career-”

“Right, of course,” Courtney said, blush creeping into her cheeks. “I’m sorry for putting you on the spot, I just-”

“But,” she continued, and Courtney’s mouth immediately snapped closed. “I do like you, which is half the battle. So why don’t you tell me more about what you want to do. What are your professional goals? In a perfect world, what would your career look like?”

“Well…” Courtney took a deep breath, a dreamy smile on her face, “Recording this album is a dream come true. I’d really like to become a true pop star, you know? Like, full tours with dancers and sets and true production value. But I also think it would be great to act, like Broadway or even on screen, like it would be so fun to work in Hollywood. And maybe writing or producing my own material? Or directing? I think I’d be good at doing interviews too, kind of like Oprah-esque, and I love the way her career looks, with the whole book club thing, I would love something like that. Also I definitely want to stand up for social justice issues, so I want to make sure my career has an activism side, and that I’m involved in philanthropy-”

“Alright, alright,” Latrice cut her off with a chuckle. “You want to do everything. I get it. Good thing you’re young.”

Courtney giggled, offering a cute little shrug. “You said a perfect world.”

“I did, that’s true. Glad you have such a big imagination.” Latrice smiled. “Listen, I may not be ready to turn you into the next Lady Gaga slash Barbra Streisand slash Oprah slash Angelina Jolie just yet, but-”

Courtney lowered her eyes slightly, the pink in her cheeks brightening.

“But what would you say to a trial period? Let’s say, six months? And after that, we can re-evaluate and decide if it makes sense to continue working together?”

“Yes!” she cried, nearly jumping out of her chair. “Or…I mean, yes. Thanks.”

“Alright then.” Latrice reached across the table, taking her hand and giving it a firm shake. “Welcome to the LRI family.”

“Thank you so much,” Courtney said, beaming.

“Just out of curiosity,” Latrice asked, “have you ever considered reality television?”

Courtney shook her head slowly. “No, not really. But…I’m open to anything!”

***

Bianca sighed. It had been a long-ass fucking day. She was still pretty pissed at Raven, and only grateful that Courtney hadn’t heard her nasty rant. At the same time, she had an ache in the pit of her stomach, knowing that she wouldn’t be able to protect Courtney forever.

Now, the shoot had finally wrapped, and it seemed that, in spite of all the drama, the whole team was happy with the results. She looked through a pile of promo items that Joslyn had laid out on her coffee table, seeing if there was anything that she could bring home to Courtney. She selected a set of Swarovski tennis bracelets, a pair of Gucci cat-eye sunglasses, cute Givenchy ankle boots, some Morphe eyeshadow palettes filled with bright, glittery colors and a set of matching pink brushes.

She was picking up a little Valentino clutch bag in soft aqua leather, trying to decide if she should give it to Courtney straightaway, or first keep it to pair with one of her own Fashion Week looks, when the intercom buzzed.

“Charlie Hides for you,” Joslyn chirped, and Bianca turned to pick up her phone.

“Hi Char, how are you?”

Charlie skipped the pleasantries and got straight to the point as usual—one of the things Bianca had always liked the most about her. “Are you aware that your girlfriend’s manager is negotiating against you?”

“What do you mean?” Bianca asked, examining her nails, noting that she needed to squeeze in a manicure before Monday.

“She’s just asked us to double the marketing budget,” Charlie explained.

“Oh. Well…was the marketing budget too low?” Bianca asked.

“I mean, it was…on the lower side of standard,” Charlie said.

Bianca smirked to herself. Good for her, and lucky that she had Latrice in her corner now to catch this stuff. “Sounds like she’s making the right demands to me. Give her what she wants.”

“Uh…okay, boss. Whatever you say. We’ll send a new budget by tomorrow morning.”

“Fabulous, thanks.” Bianca put the purse with the other items she was bringing home for Courtney. She didn’t need it—and besides, this color would bring out her eyes.

***

“I’m honestly so, so glad that Tati didn’t hear Raven talking shit,” Symone said, sorting through her huge mound of laundry to find the last of the dark colors. “She’s so ride or die, she probably would have tried to fight her!”

“Omigod!” Gigi’s eyes widened, her breath catching in her throat and she pulled out the whites. “You really think so?”

“Totally!” Symone tossed the armful of clothes she’d gathered into the machine with Gigi’s and began to load in the quarters. “Would you have backed her up?”

“Me? Never!” Being in the room during the fight between Raven and Bianca had been absolutely horrible, the entire thing so uncomfortable and cringe. “I was practically under my chair as it was! Sutan calling me was more than enough drama.”

Gigi’s heart had nearly fallen out her butt when she saw Sutan’s name light up on her screen, but thankfully her agent only wanted Gigi to go through what had happened from her perspective. Gigi had told the truth, hadn’t dared to do anything else, but she had felt bad for Raven.

Raven was one of those models that had always been around, that Gigi had seen in magazines and on runways her entire life. She had been so excited to work with her, Raven even prettier in real life, and she had been working up the courage to go say hi, since they were now under the same management and all, when hell had broken loose on set.

“Me too.” Symone laughed, the sound like a soothing balm on her anxious soul. She returned to the table, quickly pulling the whites out, adding them to Gigi’s pile. Gigi hesitated, frowning when she came to a navy and white striped top.

“What do we do about stripes?” Gigi asked, brow furrowed with concern.

“No idea,” Symone giggled, tossing a huge armful of whites into the machine before adding the soap, spilling a little on the floor in the process. “Oops.”

“Shit,” Gigi said. The two of them had discovered only recently that neither of them knew how to do laundry, the piles of dirty clothes in their closet getting dangerously high. But Gigi was tired of shame-buying new underwear, so she was determined to figure it out.

“Do you want to call your mom one more time?”

“Maybe…” Gigi chewed her lip. It had felt childish to FaceTime her mom to ask questions about laundry, but Bimini was no help, since she sent everything to fluff and fold. And she was too embarrassed to ask Tati after her cluelessness in the kitchen, barely able to chop parsley without explicit instructions. Besides that, Gigi wanted to prove herself, had to prove that she wasn’t just some confused kid. “Nah. We can figure it out. We’re grownups.”

“Oh?” Symone inserted the last of the quarters and turned on the machine, a smirk playing on her lips. “You’re all grown?”

“Mmhmm,” Gigi replied, a blush rising to her cheeks at the way Symone’s dark eyes stayed locked on hers.

Symone had been so patient…infinitely patient with her so far, but she knew that her girlfriend wanted more, and was overcome with a sudden urge to please her. She moved forward, hooking her fingers into Symone’s belt loops, leaning close enough to smell cocoa butter and Marc Jacobs Daisy perfume, the dizzying combination setting off the butterflies in the abdomen

Symone lifted one of her hands to Gigi’s cheek, touching her softly. “You’re so beautiful,” she murmured.

Gigi said nothing, simply pressed a kiss to her lips, letting herself relax into it as it deepened, as Symone’s arms tightened around her shoulders.

It was nice, actually. More than nice. For a few moments, Gigi forgot why she’d been so anxious about this in the first place. But then, Symone took a step forward, pressing her against the washer, and she let out a gasp.

“Are you okay?” Symone asked, stopping immediately.

“Yeah, I just…the machine…it’s…”

“You don’t like it?” Symone asked.

“Well…I didn’t say that,” Gigi admitted. The machine was warm, and Gigi could feel the vibrating movement of it resonating through her body.

Symone laughed, brushing a light kiss against her cheek, and Gigi pulled her closer.

“I mean, I don’t not like it,” Gigi added.

“Well, in that case,” Symone teased, pressing her harder against the vibrating machine and going in for another kiss.

Gigi went with it, her heart hammering in her chest, knowing that they were still basically in a public space, so things couldn’t go too far. She hummed, pulling Symone even closer, trying her best to enjoy the feeling of her gorgeous girlfriend against her.

***

“Sutan?”

Sutan looked up from his desk, and over at Violet who was standing at the door. He never really used his home office, but this whole thing with Raven had moved straight into shitville territory, which meant he needed his entire desk for damage control.

Tamisha had torn him a new one—she’d already been annoyed about Raven refusing to do swimwear and Sutan not making as much money on her as he could, the men’s magazines often their most lucrative clients, so this had apparently been the last straw.

She had chewed him up and spit him out, promising that she’d personally make sure he’d be punished accordingly if they lost Marie Claire.

It was never a good time when the CEO of the company came to yell at you, but at least it had been Tamisha herself, Sutan too senior and valuable for anyone else to tear him into shreds.

They wouldn’t lose Marie Claire, Sutan almost done with his damage control. He had sent Bianca a bottle of her favorite wine to her office as well as her home, and while he hadn’t been able to go over her head, he had reaffirmed Elite’s position with every influential staff member he could, his March calendar stuffed to the brim with cocktail appointments, lunches and coffee dates that he was already dreading.

“Yes, lovely eyes?” Sutan tried to force a smile on his lips, but he was honestly just tired, his back aching from being bent over his computer, his eyes burning behind his glasses.

He still had work left to do, the necessity of his New York Fashion Week schedule being exactly right suddenly extremely important. He needed to shake hands and be seen, preferably photographed, with the correct people, getting that done before rumors that he couldn’t control his girls spread essential to the future of his career.

“I just, I know you’re busy, but-” Violet took a step forward, Sutan only now noticing that she was holding a plate, a piece of chocolate cake on it, a raspberry delicately placed on it in a drop of ganache. “I thought, if you’re staying up-”

“Did you get me dessert?”

He had heard Violet tell him she was going for a walk during dinner, but he had been so preoccupied with his own thoughts that he hadn’t really registered it.

He suddenly felt bad, only now realizing how much he had ignored Violet that evening. She had texted and asked if he’d like to be alone after he had talked to Raja, but he had told her to come over, the knowledge that he’d get to climb into bed and hold her tight at the end of his shit show day beyond comforting.

“Mmh,” Violet nodded, putting the cake down on his desk. “I know you love chocolate. I wasn’t sure if I could use your machine correctly, so there’s no coffee, but-”

“Violet,” Sutan reached out, putting his arms around Violet’s waist, and pulling her down into his lap, squeezing her tight. “Thank you.” He pressed a kiss to her cheek. “Truly.”

***

“Wait, how have you never seen Golden Girls?!” Alaska cried, sitting up in bed. After the drama that morning, not to mention the actual shoot that had taken all day, she was in need of an extremely lazy night in. She’d invited Adore over on a whim, who’d arrived with two pizzas and a pack of Coronas. Now, they were relaxing in bed, chatting, while Alaska aimlessly flipped through the TV. As tired as she was, Alaska was happy to have Adore there—she was a breath of fresh air after such a stressful work day.

“Well…I think I’ve probably seen it. I’ve just never watched it,” Adore explained.

“But why? It’s so good! Like honestly one of the best shows of all time.”

“I’m 24,” Adore offered with a grin. “Where would I have seen it, TV Land?”

Alaska flopped back down onto the pillows with a dramatic groan. “You know, I didn’t think our age difference was gonna be a problem, but now I might-”

She cut herself off with a shallow gasp as Adore’s fingers traveled up her thigh.

“What were you saying?” Adore murmured, hot breath tickling her neck.

“I was…I don’t…I don’t remember…” Alaska said, biting back a whimper as a thumb grazed her clit.

“So…you wanna keep talking about sitcoms and generation gaps, or…?”

Alaska shook her head vigorously.

“Because I really kind of wanted to eat your pussy,” Adore continued, voice light and lilting. “But if you’ve got other things on your mind-”

“Adore-” Alaska choked out, grabbing a fistful of her hair as her head moved downwards. “Please…”

“Mmm?”

“Don’t stop…” she breathed, eyes fluttering closed.

“Mmmhmm…”

Alaska moaned, body arching up into the heat of her mouth. “Fuck!”

“What a good girl you are…” Adore cooed. “So wet and delicious…”

All Alaska could manage to that was a strangled whimper, her fists grasping Adore’s hair tighter, eyes rolling back.

Yes—this was exactly the right way to end such a stressful day.

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