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chrollohearttags · 3 months

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window shopping • connie springer + ryomen sukuna x black fem reader

your two favorite fellow mall employees have a bit of a competition to see who can bag you first. Little did they know, you don’t want to choose.

word count: 3.7K

content + themes: crossover au, jeweler connie, foot locker manager sukuna (they’re both afro-latino coded in this idc), threesome tings (too many smutty things to list) car sex, heavy squirting, oral to name a few (.2 seconds of rimming), lots of humor, weed mentions, they call reader mami, miss and baby, she calls them both papi, crack ass post if I’ve ever written one.

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interesting. The one word you’d use to describe your work days at Center Pointe Mall. Although a gross understatement, it was still interesting..mainly due in part to what and who, rather..you encountered on a daily basis. Sure, the influx of customers and unfamiliar faces you saw during your employment at Sephora were most certainly wild cards. From the college girls who always mismatched their foundation to the business woman who needed that perfect skin care package to get rid of her crow’s feet..neither of them held a candle to those two..

“Good morning, miss. You look good today..like that hair on you.”

“Aye, good morning, ma. What’s that perfume you got on..’smell real good.”

it was like clockwork. Every day, as you entered for your shift, there they were. Stationed in front of their respective stores, ready to greet you. Flashing those beaming smiles, oftentimes with gold slugs in their mouth and with the same, sweet charm lacing their words. Ryomen Sukuna, who headed up the Foot Locker and Connie Springer, managing the jewelry shop which both just so happened to be conveniently placed on either side of your store. It made for fun times, for sure! When you’d have a slow day and you’d stand outside the doorway, vibing to the music they’d play because the top forty’s pop crap they recycled on repeat was driving you insane. Connie would talk to you from across the way as he waited for potential customers. Ryo, who was the manager, had other employees manning the store. He would come and interrupt the party none other than for the reason of chatting you up and getting on Connie’s nerves. Which made for quite the entertainment.

“Aw, hell. Here he go..Ryo, ain’t nobody talking to you, bruh. Gon’ somewhere.”

“Stay out of grown folks' business, Mr. Clean. I came to see my girl. What’s up with you, miss?”

which was so much more hilarious, considering the fact that the two of them? They were literally best friends! Dating back as far as middle school. Ryo was a couple years older but they were from the same neighborhood and were attached at the hip. Both exceptional basketball players and gifted artists. Drawing amazing artwork and a number of the tattoos they had on their bodies. Brilliant young men with wonderful personalities..how could you not adore them?! Regardless, all three of you would congregate outside of those doors and talk until customers came in and would even take your lunch breaks together. It was never a dull moment with those two, that’s for sure. Especially when it comes to vying for your attention. Buying your food, pulling your chair out and everything. They were perfect gentlemen despite their constant flirtation. Connie would use humor as a means to try and win your heart. Always spewing out corny jokes and making you laugh. Ryo was definitely the charmer of the pair..attempting to sweet talk you at every turn. One day, you were sitting next to Ryo in the food court with Connie in front of you as you grabbed the pink haired gentleman’s chin.

“You got such a pretty smile, Ryo.” And Connie was not having it. Immediately snorting as he sipped his drink, the chaos would ensue. “Yeah, cause he went and got them big ass veneers. Them extra large teef’…” prompting you to nearly spit out your drink and forcing your head down. You couldn’t take them anywhere! “..bet you eat corn on the cob whole. Chewing them muhfuckas like candy.” Knowing he was opening up a can of worms he wasn’t ready for.

“Worry ‘bout pedaling them fake ass chains, ConMan. Bubblegum machine ass necklace. Look at the diamonds, shit’s standing still..” And they’d go on forever, taking shots and licks at each other all day, putting you in the middle of it. “(Y/N), miss. Tell this baldheaded ass lil’ boy to leave you alone. We can go get a tester and put his ass outta business right now .” “Tell jumbo teeth to mind his business. Tight ass shirt on..bout to rip.” And you’d have to feign off their nonsense with laughter. “Y’all too much. I gotta go. I’ll see you boys later.” And both of them would instantly fluster at the sight of you waving goodbye. It was all but impossible when they’d watch those thirty inches of jet black hair and ass swaying simultaneously. Those plump, gloss covered lips; wearing your signature brown liner and beautiful features. A single nose piercing on the side of your left nostril..you were gorgeous. They couldn’t help but to admire. But soon, that innocuous affection turned to actual lust. Lust that was shared on all sides and unbeknownst to your bumbling boys..you wanted a piece of them both. They’d continue flirting, pining for your affection and even making a little wager without your knowledge to see who could bag you first..

but it was one night after work, when you were all seated in Ryo’s car. You in the passenger’s seat of his spacious, blacked out Trackhawk. He is in the driver’s seat and Connie was right behind you. Stationed in an empty lot not too far from the mall itself, the three of you would do as you had done several times:

“Here, your turn, (y/n).”

passing around a blunt and blowing smoke as you hotboxed..leaving a large cloud to fog up the already tinted windows. After four puffs, you were already beginning to feel the effects. Your eyes narrowed and began to glow red from the euphoria. But alas, your high was only about to increase tenfold when you’d drop quite a bombshell on them. They’d continue with their usual antics and alas, the question would arise again: who do you like more? And from there, they’d just go on and on, swearing that one or the other was the ideal choice. Ryo, with his deep raspy tone, would incite the behavior with the glide of a finger underneath your chin and that smooth talking. If it truly was a competition, you wouldn’t know how to pick. Granted, they were both so silly but there was a quality about each of them that you couldn’t resist. Ryo, with his overall sex appeal..this man was so charming and knew exactly what to say to get EXACTLY what he wanted.

“C’mon now, lil’ bro. I mean, I’d hate to hurt your feelings but don’t make the lady choose. It’s not even a question. Ain’t that right, miss?” Flashing you a wink in return.

but there was also Connie, who was a literal sweetheart. He had a more tactful approach to doing things. Despite all of the tattoos, chains and golds in his mouth, he had sort of this shyness about him. But in the same turn, you knew deep down, if given the chance, he’d show you that he wasn’t for play. “Don’t even play yourself like that, bruh. You know she would pick me everytime. Tell ‘em, mami. You just don’t wanna be rude..” Again though, you had no interest in making only one selection and rather..

“…who said I wanted to pick at all?”

leaving them both stunned and stopped dead in their tracks. At first, they were both a little taken aback. Completely misunderstanding what it was that you were saying. They figured that you meant that neither of them were on your radar and that you had no interest in being anything besides their friend. But once again, they were both wrong! With the look of shock still fresh on their faces, you’d waste no time in elaborating..starting with a kiss along Ryo’s jawline and whispering in his ear. . “I mean…why would I when you could both have me?” And it was then that their faces began to turn beet red! Illuminated with complete bashfulness. They knew that they had been pining after you something serious. Even making a few sexual innuendos here and there but never would they have guessed that you’d been down for something of this caliber.. “..you telling me y’all never thought about it? Because I have..all the time.” Uttering the confession with your tongue scaling the sides of his neck; flicking it over his tattoo. Meanwhile, your hand would snake to the backseat to massage Connie’s crotch. This silly little game was a moot point. What was the point of competition when they could simply work together to give you what you wanted?! Taking heed to your advances and obvious demand, they wasted no time in shifting gears.

“Well damn..if that’s the type shit you was on, all you had to do was let us know.”

Ryo, who was already groping your big, round tits, shoved his tongue between your lips and began to engage in a full blown make out session. Exchanging sloppy wet kisses, as you had been downing water in between your passes. Meanwhile, Connie would watch from the backseat, sort of aroused by the idea of spectating. He’d listen to your soft whimpers, the dirty words uttered into your ear and even how Ryo clasped your throat in his ink laden hands and immediately began to feel a pulse through the confines of his boxers. He’d discreetly cup the bulge and just slowly rub it as your ass jiggled from being folded over the console. Faint traces of saliva seeped from your mouths each time you both pulled away; only to find yourselves with one less article of clothing. Your hand had slipped into his black joggers and began tousling that growing erect around. You knew it was big by the visible print alone and could only imagine what it looked like. But before you could unveil the mystery and have too much fun, he’d stop and usher you to the backseat so you could both join Connie. “Climb back there..”

and they didn’t have to tell you what to do because the second you sat down in the middle, Connie would tap in. Bringing your face towards him and kissing you with such passion. Immediately wrapping his fingers around your neck and twirling his tongue around between your jaws. His hands worked to unclasp your jeans and once he did, that left hand would find its way into the seat of your panties..rubbing that clit whilst you stroked that cock in your hand. Running those fingers up and down that shaft; letting those duckbill shaped nails graze his tip. He was such an attentive and great kisser, you felt yourself growing wetter by the moment. Heating up on his very fingers..meanwhile, Ryo had joined the fray as well. Readjusting himself only for a split second to step out of the drivers into the seat behind him. Once he was with you both, it was up from there.

“Can’t let him have all the fun..c’mere, baby.” It was then that he’d shuffle his pants back down to his waist and allow you to stroke him as well. They had full fledged confidence that you knew what to do..going back and forth, exchanging kisses and gentle strokes..pumping each of them in your enclosed fists. Meanwhile, they’d take great joy in fondling your body. Ryo’s wide grasp encompassed both of your tits as he peeled your shirt away. Connie’s fingers were still tending to your sensitive cunt. Slick surrounding his digits as he worked them in and out..even massaging that thumb pad over your clit. In a matter of moments, they’d have you squirming in the seat and begging for more. Soon, Ryo’s lips latched on to your neck, suckling on the nape of it with a wild eyed expression. His raspy laugh ringing in your ear as he reached for your throat. Meanwhile, your palms were still clasped around their cocks, pumping the shafts with delicate strokes..without breaking stride, they’d use their free hands to rid you of those bottoms; shoving them down to your ankles where you’d kick them off. The same followed for your shirt, which Ryo tore open with minimal effort. Having long since discarded your bra, you were left with nothing more than a paper thin thong that was tugged to the side, along with your shoes that soon followed the rest. With you rendered completely nude, there wasn’t a thing holding them back..during the entire ordeal, they’d alternate between the different parts of your body; having their fill and taking their pick of what they wanted to indulge in next. As well as piling your head with compliments and salacious comments about what they wanted to do with you. Ryo not holding back a single detail of how many times he wanted you to come for him, even at the expense of his interior. Carefully examining that tight cunt spasming on his best friend’s digits. He had the utmost confidence that you could take the dick, regardless of their sizes. Luckily, the second and third row seating were laid back so you’d have ample room. Connie on the other hand, who had been honing in on getting you prepped..aware of how tight you were..couldn’t stop telling you how badly he wanted to use your throat. He’d often dreamt of seeing those pretty lips stretched around his cock..watching you gag, slurp and spit on it as it so carefully glided in and out of your mouth. And all you could do was whimper, thrashing yourself around on those knuckles to reach an inevitable orgasm and you were so damn close.

“Aye, Ryo. You think she’s ready, bruh? Feels like she is…what do you think?”

“I think so too, lil’ bro..say, love..you think you can handle both of us? We don’t wanna hurt you now..”

but they were both in for quite the surprise. You were far from the bashful type and you were about to give them something they’d never forget. Chuckling with your head suspended back, you’d chew lightly at your bottom lip before answering either of them.

“Handle it? Y’all better the fuck the shit out of me. I don’t like all that talking without action.” And with that, both Ryo and Connie were full and well aware of what they had to do if they wanted to keep you around! Ushering you onto all fours first, everybody got into position. You with your ass up in the air and back arched as Ryo saddles behind you. Connie sprawled out on the back passenger door as your head lowered into his lap. All you wanted was for them to use your body as they saw fit..fuck you until your legs gave out and a mess covered this backseat. “C’mere, mama. Lemme have that pussy..” with tattooed hands and fingernails digging into your hair, Ryo pushed you face down as he aligned that swollen cock head with your very sensitive slit. He couldn’t help but to be enamored with the plumpness of that pretty ass. That cute little asshole was already fluttering and that cunt dripping for him, preparing to stretch you open. Meanwhile, Connie was brushing that beautiful hair to the side so that he could line up with your mouth.

“Yeaah, there we go, mami. Eat this dick up..know you been waiting to..” and he was correct. Hence why it wasn’t a full five minutes before you’d find yourself stuffed full at each end. Deep groans released from each males’ mouths when the initial sensation of your holes hit. They couldn’t believe how silky and warm both of them felt. Letting out a simultaneous ‘fuck’, along with a laugh..they’d make haste in moving. You were more than well lubricated so they slipped in and out with ease. You’d bob your head slowly, up and down on Connie’s shaft whilst Ryo’s hands rested at the small of your back, slowly pressing those thumbs into those adorable dimples..sounds of clapping flesh and slurping began to emit throughout the vehicle and before long, all three of you were letting loose.

“Shit! Pussy’s so goddamn tight, baby..how you keep this from me all this time?”

“Fuuuck, mami. chupas esa mierda tan bien…” whimpering in a high pitched moan, he’d toss his head back and continue letting you work your magic. Those plump lips wrapped around that thick shaft as globs of saliva drenched down to his swollen balls. Without so much as a single gag. You took him nearly five inches down your throat before withdrawing and jerking him off. Even though he filled your esophagus. Leaving quite the sloppy mess in your wake. All while a sheath of creamy lather began to form as those thick cheeks collided with Ryo’s pelvis. You’d begin to whimper and beg each of them for more. “Yeah, mama..let us hear that shit. How much you love being fucked like a lil’ slut..” teasing before leaning down to lick up the curvature of your spine. “Mmph! Fuuuck..please, don’t stop.” And he had no intentions of doing so, especially when he’d reach underneath and curl his hand underneath and massage your clit. Making you twitch on that cock..but Connie wasn’t one to be neglected either. Because once you put your mouth back on him, he was done for. Lowering your head again, an entire sheath of saliva came spilling onto that shaft as you spat and continued pumping in your hand. Where you kept your focus, however, were on those round, full balls of his. Practically aching to the touch..apparent by the way his body trembled and those diamonds kept swinging and refracting against the star covered ceiling.

“Yeah, right there, baby. Suck that muhfuck—“ but just as quickly as he gave the command, he’d be halted in his tracks and his eyes would trail to the back of his head. “Fuuuuck! Oh fuck, do that again, baby. That feels so good.” Nearly catapulting out of his seat from the sensation of your tongue swirling around his balls and momentarily gliding over his entrance. He knew he’d probably never experienced something so salacious before. Talk all he might but Connie was a lover boy and most likely, incredibly vanilla. He preferred making love over rough fucking. Meanwhile, Ryo preferred his women to be freaky. The kind that would top him off and kiss him afterwards or let him put a foot on her head! He could only let out a hearty laugh as he watched his lil’ bro get bitched up!

“You a nasty lil’ bitch. I love it. Knew you was gon’ be a problem but damn…aye, Connie..you good, bruh?” Only receiving a loud whine back..knowing that you had damn near sucked the soul out of this man!

“C’mon, baby. Let’s switch.” And truth be told, he too needed a breather because if he persisted, you were going to be on maternity leave messing with him! Reluctantly withdrawing, he’d pull out and lay his erect across your back, spurting a trail of his precum across your skin. You all would maneuver around until the two of them had switched positions and you were flat on your back. Dangling your head, Ryo took hold of it as he leaned against the door and Connie spread you open. Pinning your legs back, he’d tap himself against your slick ridden, fucked out little hole..eliciting a high pitched whimper. One that hummed and vibrated against Ryo’s cock. It was such a euphoric feeling for all three of you. Especially with the sensation of that weed coursing through your veins. That thong dangled around your ankles and his wristwatch glistened under the lights as his hands clasped your ankle. Placing soft kisses around your calf. “Pussy’s so fucking wet, mami..damn.” Ryo was on the opposite end, thrusting into your mouth slowly with a gentle hand cupped around your throat. They were using you as they saw fit and you couldn’t get enough. They’d persist until they drummed out what would be the first of many orgasms. Which came not a moment too soon when Connie was pressing down into the center of your belly and pumping you full of cock. That’s when you felt it!…

“Damn! Let it out, baby..squirt on that dick, just like that.” Sending you into convulsions as he tapped himself against you after you all but pushed you out. But you were too busy having your mouth used as a sleeve to release any moans. But Ryo was aware of the way you hummed against him. Connie wasn’t going to be the only one having his fill. He wanted you to take his nut inside regardless of where it ended up. Tugging himself momentarily and seemingly premature, he’d hold you in place as he prompted you to stick your tongue out. Which you did with a wide smile on your face. “There we go.” Rewarding you with a long glob of spit afterwards. “Mmm, thank you, papi.” Showing your gratitude to them both. The two men would continue on their crusade to bring you to ultimate pleasure. Taking turns pounding in various positions..and entrances until finally..

“Fuck! On your knees, baby..just like that.”

“Suck that fucking cum out, mama..”

they’d instruct you to grasp both of their shafts and jerk them off until you milked them of every remnant of their cum. And it didn’t take long before you found your face splattered in both men’s semen and them rolling their heads back on their shoulders and crying out your name, along with a string of expletives. Needless to say, you all were good and spent. And very much satisfied with this little rendezvous! Even so, the gentlemen still couldn’t help but to question who was the better of the two. But if you hadn’t already made yourself clear, you’d iterate it one more time:

“Like I said, I don’t have to choose..I’m just window shopping.”

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coeurify · 1 year

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i cant find this req for some reason but here is a ss i took of it.. enjoy ! 18+

Abby was the best roommate. Really. She was kind, always cleaned up after herself, was respectful, and just so quiet.

Abby would likely say the same thing about you, a slight grin on her face as she spoke to one of her friends about how lucky she had gotten with you, and how her friend agreeing to move in with her had been just an oh so perfect decision. How sweet and lovely you were to live with. Her pink lips wet as her tongue licked over them, quieter confessions about how attractive she found you usually followed. Not that she would ever admit that to you, however.

Nor would you divulge the information of just how many times you had shoved your face into a friend’s pillow as you rattled on about how good Abby looked when she came home from the gym, how badly you wanted to be the one she was always leaving the apartment to go see.

Neither of you minded the soft touches when you passed each other, the quiet breaths on your shared couch that always came when one of you pressed a little too close during movie night. In fact, Abby would even go out on a thin tree limb to say you both enjoyed toeing the line between platonic roommate activity and something more.

Most everything about this living situation was just perfect. Except for a tiny problem.

The painted white walls always held a certain hum to them. Whether it be music you tried your best to keep low.. or Abby watching a movie. It always sunk between the foundation between your rooms, echoing the covered walls in a way that had become clear very soon into moving in with your friend. The walls were so incredibly thin, but you thought you had adapted.

Abby always disappeared into her room early most nights, unless you asked otherwise. By midnight on most days, the walls fell utterly silent, aside from a few creaks of Abby’s bed. The night had become your saving grace, the only time you didn’t have to worry about your roommate hearing anything.

Usually.. she didn’t. Tonight, however, the story was completely different.

It didn’t really matter how you had ended up here. Maybe Abby came home with a little extra confidence after the gym today, smiling and leaning over you at the table, questioning what book you had your nose dug into, large arm on full display for you. Maybe Abby sat a little too close during the movie you watched, and stared at you a little too hard during certain scenes.

By this point, you couldn’t even remember what had gotten you to this current place. Your door cracked open, letting in the breeze that came from the air conditioner in the living room, the only solace to your sticky hot skin. Your thighs draped lazily around your favorite pillow, clenching around the soft pink cloth as you ground down into it. The pretty black lace of your panties acting as an added friction for your heated core as you moved your hips against the material. Your mouth gaped open, panting as you let out the softest moans you could muster, sweat shining in the furrowed space between your brows.

On any other day, you would have gone undetected. But tonight, of all nights, Abby found herself in a long battle with sleep.

She had tried every method known to mankind to rest, the early morning ahead a perfect candidate for why she should be squeezing her eyes closed the moment the clock on her bedside flashed the numbers “2:35 am” on the digital screen.

But now? Now Abby was thankful for three things, despite this sleepless frustration.

One, she was happy she wasn’t tired suddenly. Two, she was so fucking delighted the walls of this apartment were thin. And three? Abby was just purely ecstatic that you didn’t know at all how to keep quiet.

Abby tried to be a kind roommate at first. She pressed further away from the wall when she heard the first few soft grunts on the other side of the wall. Hell, Abby even put on headphones and began scrolling through her playlists to find a good set of songs so she didn’t invade your privacy like that.

But the moment she found her finger hovering over the blue-lit screen to begin a song, she heard it.

The softest, whiny calling of her name she had ever heard. It rang straight through the white paint, right over the posters plastered there, and settled sweetly in her ear.

You were moaning her name.

Though she couldn’t see it, her imagination could only assume what you may be doing. What her sweet roommate was doing to herself thinking of her.

If she could see it, your quivering lip, open and panting Abby’s name, again, Abby may have died on the spot. If the blonde could bear witness to the wet spot that dripped through the fabric of your panties and onto the plush pillow... Well, she would have taken you right there.

All Abby had, however, was her imagination, just as you did. Though neither knew the fantasies that plagued both of your minds muddled together just a bit too much.

“Abby,” you whine into the quiet air, a mouth full of saliva— causing another choked sound as you swallow it down, hips pressing further into your pillow. You imagined it was her hands on your hips, leading all of your rushed and messy movements against the fabric.

You squeezed your eyes shut and did your best to paint the picture of the pillow being the blonde’s thigh, that your trembling hands were actually gripping the flesh of Abby’s shoulders as she urged you to keep going. You could almost pick out her tone of voice perfectly, a tape om loop in your mind of her urging you to keep going, ‘c’mon sweetheart... there you go, angel,’ she would whisper against you, lips pressing to your skin just so softly. If you held your breath long enough, you could almost hear it.

Abby, on the other side of the wall, did her very best not to stand straight up out of bed and let her feet find your door. This proved itself a difficult request for both her mind and body when your sounds sped up, growing louder and louder against her very honed in eardrums.

The blonde rubbed her eyes, hands aching to grab something very different. Maybe the fat of your thigh as she pressed them open, leaving you all out in the open for her to admire. Maybe the palm of her hand slapped over your mouth as she pulled you closer to her, humming near your cheek that you needed to, ‘Be quiet for me, doll. You know how thin these walls are, don’t want our neighbors to hear, right?’ She even imagined them pressed impossibly far between your legs, fingers so deep into your aching cunt that one curl would have you gushing around her digits.

Though that night, neither of your nighttime fantasies came to fruition. You had climbed off your poor pillow one mindblowing orgasm later, thighs shaking as you made quick work of cleaning your mess.

Abby stayed silent as possible until you fell asleep, and dug her own hands down into her pants— someone, and some noises specifically in mind.

(random cut off sorry uhh p2?)

#rins reqs ❀.#abby anderson #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x you #abby anderson x y/n #abby anderson x fem reader #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson smut #roommate!abby anderson

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saturnville · 1 day

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bite, l. hamilton

pairing: he (lewis hamilton) x black best friend oc (anvika dawson) content: in which two friends cross a line people have been waiting for them to cross. warning: 18+ content song: bite by njzoma an: y'all know I don't write smut fr, so ntm. but I hope y'all enjoy it. wc: 2,498 tags: the girlies who were hyping me up to post this @boujiestpoet @mauvecherie-writes @saintslewis @greedyjudge2 @vile-harlot @emjayewrites

“Just because we’re attracted to one another doesn’t mean we need to sleep together. I’m off that. Plus, we’re friends.”

Anvika prided herself on being a woman of self-control and discipline. Though it did not come easy, years of abstinence grew dreary and at times, very lonely, her hard work was not something she was willing to risk. Her decision to step into abstinence wasn’t one she took lightly, nor was it one that she planned, but once Anvika began the journey of healing from a heartbreak, intimacy with another man wasn’t the priority. Though that had been over four years ago and she was well over the situation, she could admit that while it was difficult to maintain her self-control, not having to worry about anyone’s snot-nosed son brought more peace than she could ever imagine.

“Even more of a reason to let it happen. Everything happens better when you have a solid foundation first. Everybody thinks you two are together anyways. He truly cares for you, in more ways than one.”

Anvika hummed and rolled her eyes as she brought the slender champagne fluke to her full lips. The liquid went smooth down her throat. She shrugged. “Then let them think that. Lewis is a good man, a good and attractive man, but…”

Her friend, Onyx, sighed and downed her drink with a wave of her hand. “I don’t know how you do it! I would’ve lost my mind by now. I commend you.” Onyx bowed playfully which pulled a light laugh from Anvika. Though she was joking, she couldn’t help but sense the truth behind her words.

Though swearing off men and intimacy had become a more common practice among women, many people found it taboo and unrealistic. She soon began to ponder--what if she’d never find anyone that could give her what she wanted because of how she chose to navigate her dating life? She shook it off internally. That would be a problem, but none that would be hers.

Before she got the chance to respond, her phone rang against the glass table that held their expensive lunch on it’s back. LH flashed across the screen. She smiled softly which caught the attention of Onyx, who gave a teasing smirk. For someone who was insistant on keeping a strong boundary between herself and her closest friend, she surely smiled like a fool whenever he called.

“I told you I have a lunch date with Onyx today,” she reminded the racer lowly, using her index finger to draw doodles in the condensation her water glass sweat off on the table. “Everything alright?”

“Everything’s fine, angel,” he spoke smoothly. “Just wanted to make sure you were still wanting to join me for the event on Friday.” Anvika hummed and nodded as though he could see her. He was attending a gala in London and of course, offered his plus-one to Anvika, as he had done since their friendship had begun years prior. What was his, was hers, including access to rooms and events that would grant her opportunities to further her career as a branding and marketing consultant.

“Yes,” she replied excitedly. “I still haven’t found a dress. What color are you wearing?”

There was shuffling in the background before he spoke again. “Blue. Don’t worry about it, I’ll handle it.” Her heart fluttered. “Enjoy your lunch. Tell Onyx I said hello and call me later, alright?”

Anvika’s teeth trapped her bottom lip. “Alright. Talk soon.”

“Bye, love.”

Anvika turned her phone on its face and looked up, catching Onyx’s playful eyes. Her thick eyebrow touched her forehead. “Friends, right?” Anvika gave her a look. Onyx raised her hands in defense, “My bad, my bad.”

Lewis Hamilton was a gentleman. Sure, this was universal knowledge, but something about him being gentlemanly with her made her heart flutter and her stomach clench with desire. And it almost made her question Onyx’s point, “he truly cares for you; in more ways than one.” It’d typically be something she’d deny, but as she stood in front of the mirror with her hair done by a hairstylist he arranged to come, her nails done by a nail technician he’d flown out, and a dress he arranged to be custom-made to suit her body, how could she deny it any longer?

“Don’t think too deeply into it,” she scolded herself, slipping out of her robe. She walked toward her dress, pulled it off the hanger, and carefully slipped into it. “You’re friends. Close friends who care for one another. That’s it, that’s all.”

They met at the paddock six years prior. She was invited to her first Formula One race through her consultant agency, which took her team on an all-expense paid trip for their hard work. She wasn’t aware of Formula One, just of familiar names. Then, at the end of the match, she had the chance to put a face to the infamous name of Lewis Hamilton.

“You raced well,” Anvika noted, taking in the slightly disheveled appearance of the raceman. “I’ve never been to a Formula One race; good job on giving me a reason to come back one day.”

The man’s eyebrow raised in interest. He crossed his arms over his chest, his muscular build on display. “Is that so?”

Anvika nodded.

“We can make that happen whenever you want.”

It was Anvika’s turn to raise an eyebrow. A smirk played on her lips. “Is that so? Tryna be my friend, Lewis?”

He shrugged his shoulders. Friends wasn’t too bad. Anything to get to know her. “Any man would be a fool to refuse that opportunity, Anvika.”

That marked the beginning of an inseparable union.

Anvika continued to mumble and grumble, doing whatever she could to keep her mind eased. Her self-conversations were halted by a knock on her door. Lewis. “Coming!” Holding her dress to her chest. She turned the doorknob, and the familiar scent of his cologne filled her nose. “Are you…oh. Oh.”

Closing the door behind him, Lewis’ eyes were trained on her, the most beautiful woman he’d laid eyes on. The dress, complementary to his suit, was perfectly designed and tailored to her. She was a fan of long-sleeved dresses, so that’s what she got. It was constructed with a heavy, luxurious velvet material and it hugged every riff, edge, and curve on her body. The neckline showed the swell of her breasts and her beautiful collarbone. The mermaid-like tail further accentuated her shape.

Her hair was parted to the side and curled to perfection. The makeup complimented her features--thick eyebrows, full lips, and a round nose. And her scent, goodness, it suffocated him. The jasmine and almond notes filled his nostrils and he wanted to nuzzle his face in her neck and inhale like she was the air he needed to breathe.

“You look beautiful,” Lewis managed to speak. His voice was so low that she almost didn’t hear his compliment. With a bashful smile, she thanked him and led him to her room where she wandered toward the bathroom, which had a series of jewels across the counter. “Help me pick a necklace?”

Anvika turned to face the jewelry and fought hard to ignore the heat that radiated from Lewis’ body as he moved to stand behind her. From over her shoulder, his eyes followed the line of jewels the stylists brought. His eyes landed on a silver necklace; a thin chain with a multi-carat teardrop diamond. “This one.”

Lewis took the necklace in his hands and placed it around her neck. Anvika lifted her hair to grant him easy access and shivered as his cool fingertips brushed against her skin. She inhaled deeply. “Stunning.” His breath was warm against her neck. They locked eyes in the mirror ahead of them. The tension was thick. Suffocating. His brown eyes, usually so full of love and warmth, were filled with something she couldn’t quite identify, but it made her body heat like wildfire.

“I’m ready,” she announced, careful not to let her voice waver. She turned, purposefully ignoring the groan he released when she brushed against him. Her lips quivered as she tried to give a steady smile. What the hell was happening between them? Anvika placed her hands on his chest and soothed the non-existent wrinkles on his suit jacket. He was so handsome. “You look great, darling.”

“Thank you…” his words came out as a whisper. He was too distracted by her. Six years of friendship and what he felt from the time he met her at the paddock all those years ago had reached a breaking point. He’d boiled over.

Anvika tried to smile as she pressed a kiss against his cheek, but with how he reacted, her lips landed at the corner of his lips. She took a step back. “Let’s get ready to go, yeah?”

Lewis swallowed thickly. He held his arm out for her, which she grabbed instinctively, and together, they were out the door with a million and one thoughts swimming between them.

“And that beauty you’ve brought?” an older man questioned Lewis, who had his eyes on Anvika as she danced through the siloes of people in the room. The gala was nothing short of a popularity function, a random event on a random weekend for the host to flaunt their money and connections, Truthfully, his desire to attend dwindled once he saw her in that dress. She was the only thing on his mind.

“Anvika Dawson,” Lewis said, nodding in her direction. “One of the best branding and marketing consultants in the industry. She’s amazing at everything she does. You’ve got a business, don’t you?” And that’s why he was a good friend, Anvika noted as she began to walk over, hearing him advocate for her in front of the man.

“You flatter me,” she said with a smile as she took a position under Lewis’ arm, which slid around her waist. “Anvika Dawson, nice to meet you.”

The older man, who had went by the nam Eli, shook her hand firmly and nodded in interest. “Well, pardon me, but the two of you would make a wonderful couple.” The young adult chuckled lightly; the comment was nothing new to them, but it seemed to bring them both discomfort given the fact that they had a very intimate moment just an hour before their arrival. Before Lewis could speak up, Anvika thanked the man sweetly then they were whisked in another direction.

They were joined together at the hip for the remainder of the evening. And, on the rare occasion that they were apart, they stole glances from across the room like teenagers in a romantic sitcom. Soon, the event wrapped up and they were in the backseat of the car, sitting in a thick silence.

Anvika sat at the right of the car, her knees turned inward and her legs crossed. With every bump in the road and swerve of the car, the tip of her heel brushed against Lewis’ leg. His breath hitched. She said nothing.

The car came to an abrupt stop and the doors were opened for them. Before her foot could touch the ground, Lewis’ hand was awaiting. “Thank you,” Anvika said softly, and allowed him to guide her into the hotel.

He still hadn’t said much. The walk to the elevator was quiet, yet, he hadn’t let go of her hand. What was he thinking about? If it was the sudden shift in their interactions, it didn’t go unnoticed by her either.

The elevator doors peeled open and Lewis guided her in. He pressed the button, 10, that would send them to the floor their rooms were on. The elevator ride seemed slow as each ding indicated they’d entered another floor.

Anvika cleared her throat and decided to speak up, “I enjoyed tonight. And again, you looked great. I love blue on you.”

He couldn’t remember what happened between her compliment, her back against the elevator wall, and his lips on hers. The only thing that forced him to key in was her hands pressing against his abdomen and his name falling from her lips. “Lewis…” What he’d heard time and time again in his dreams had finally become a reality. His stomach churned; could he get her to say it again? “What are you…” She cut herself off when she fell victim to the wonderful feeling of his lips against her jaw.

“I just…” Lewis settled his face in her neck. “One night, Vi. Let me have one night with you…” Her heart pounded in her ears. What the hell was happening?

“Lewis…” Her hand slipped and fell just above his belt. She extended her arm just slightly. “We can’t do this. I-I don’t want to mess up our friendship and you know I’m not going all the way with anyone--”

Lewis hummed. His eyes sat low as he looked at her. She looked completely worn out as if he’d done to her what he truly wanted. Her forehead glistened with sweat, her lipstick was smeared, and her chest heaved. “Nothing will change for the worse, angel. And I don’t want to go there with you, just want to make you feel good…always have.” His left arm circled around her waist and his large hand palmed her backside. She whimpered. “Can I?”

“Someone might see...”

He ignored her. “Can I make you feel good?” His tone was stern as he repeated his question. Suddenly, the gala was out of her mind and the only thing that clouded her thoughts was him. Him and him only. Lewis Hamilton had infiltrated her mind and she finally stopped fighting it.

The elevator dinged. “Yes…”

“Should I…?” her hands reached for the necklace that shone beneath the dim lights of the hotel suite. Lewis shook his head and peeled his jacket off his shoulders, revealing a crisp white wife beater. He shed that too. Anvika’s breath hitched. “Keep it on. Lay back for me, angel.”

Anvika looked like an angel surrounded by the comforter. Her undergarments were long discarded, save for her underwear which he kept in the pocket of his pants. The pure white of the sheets were a stark contrast to the richness of her complexion. Her hair was sprawled against the pillow with a few strands covering her face lazily. The look on her face was one of comfort, relief in one way or another.

She welcomed Lewis’ body between her legs as he crawled on the bed and his lips against hers as he hovered above her. For the first time that night, Anvika’s hands didn’t tremble when she touched him. She welcomed the feeling of every ridge of muscle, every raised scar, and every mature tattoo.

Their hands moved frantically over each other’s body, and it felt amazing. She hadn’t realized how touch deprived she was until she heard his chuckle in her ear. Her face warmed. She felt like a teenager. “It’s okay…” his lips ghosted against the shell of her ear. “Make all the noise you want.”

Anvika didn’t respond--her mouth wouldn’t allow her to. As Lewis moved down her body, she sat on her elbows, watching and waiting. God, he was so handsome like this. His head was dipped between her thighs and his tattooed glistened under the dim lights. Slowly, he lips created an intentional trail from her belly down to the treasure just centimeters away from his mouth.

Her fingers clawed at the bedsheets as the anticipation rose. She was becoming impatient. He was giving attention to every other place except where he wanted her. She huffed. “Lewis…”

He hummed, clearly unbothered by her frustration. He glanced at her, “Yes?” She whimpered. “Talk to me.” He was amused, very amused. She was desperate for him. It was evident by the way her arousal seeped onto the bed. He gathered some on his fingers, using it as a lubricant as he finally began to touch her.

Anvika gasped. His movements were slow and meticulated but they were enough to set her over the edge. He brought his lips to hers again, which she accepted sloppily. Her jaw fell slack as he continued to work her to her first release of the night. It came quickly, quicker than she would have liked. When his fingers hit that spot within her, her hips jerked and she squeaked his name.

Lewis chuckled, “That’s it?” He prodded that spot again. “Right there?” Anvika nodded. He removed his fingers. She groaned in frustration, “Lewis, please!”

“Please what?” He brought his fingers to his lips and moaned at the taste of her on his tongue. If this was just the beginning, he couldn’t imagine how mad he’d go in the coming moments. “Tell me what you want.”

She clocked it. He wanted her to beg. Anvika wasn’t the begging type. She may have been far removed from having sex, but she always got her way, especially with Lewis. Her hands trailed down the muscular planes of his stomach. Her fingers hooked in his belt and pulled him forward. Her fingers curled around his neck and her nails toyed with the faded hair there. She brought her smeared lips to his ear, her tongue dancing against the shell of it. He shudder. “I want you to make my legs shake and rock my world. Can you do that, Lewis?”

Her voice. The way her voice dropped in octave but increased in seduction had his head spinning. There were a few moments of silence as he fought hard to gather himself and the more she spurred him on, the most difficult it became. But then, she heard it, “Yes…”

“Right there, right there! Oh my…” He was a lover of music. Being in a studio, creating melodies to go with lyrics, was his favorite pastime. But this took the cake. She created her a song better than he could have ever imagined, and was it addicting.

Her moans, cries, and screams were melodic and his name was the only lyric she knew. He hated repetition in music, but loved hearing hers. So addicting. So well created. So beautiful.

Her legs trembled around his head and her hands were buried in his braids. He fought the urge to bend her over when she whispered out the faintest, “Baby, please…” She’d used terms of endearment before, but in this context, it was different. “I’m close!”

Her body, damp with sweat and covered in bruises created by his mouth, jumped and jolted as she grew closer to her peak. Lewis sat up, replacing his tongue with his highly skilled fingers. He used his arm to stabilize his body as he hovered over her. What a sight.

Her hair was completely sweated out, pooped and frizzy at the roots. Her makeup stained the pillows and her lips were swollen from her biting and his intense kisses. Her neck was dark with love bites. Her eyelids were hooded but he could see the fire behind her eyes. If only he could capture her and keep the picture in his pocket forever.

“Doing so well for me,” he whispered, kissing against her cheek and jaw. His fingers made quick work of the huddle of nerves between her legs. “Taking it like a good girl.” Her moans grew louder, higher in pitch, and full of air. It was becoming too much—her hands pushed against his arm, trying to run. “Don’t run now. Isn’t this what you wanted?”

“Lewis, I’m—“ she cut herself off with a high pitched scream that seemed to ring on forever. Lewis chuckled lightly and worked her through her orgasm. “That’s it, baby.” Her body shook as she tried to come down calmly.

He spent a few minutes between her legs, caressing her gently as an act of comfort. Her loud noises had diminished to soft whimpers as she came down from cloud nine. When she finally opened her eyes again, he asked, “You okay?”

She was better than okay. Though they didn’t cross all the lines, Anvika had gotten the best orgasm she’d received in her life from a man’s mouth and hands. She’d deal with the consequences later, but in that moment, she felt amazing.

She nodded and smiled lazily. “I’m okay. Are you…do you want me to…?” Her eyes fell to the evident bulge that strained against his pants. He shook his head.

“I’m okay. Let’s get you cleaned up…”

What was supposed to be a shower to clean her up resulted in her on her knees giving him the most intense release he’d experienced in months. It left him panting, shaking, and whimpering like it was his first time all over again.

Once again, she looked angelic with her now curly hair flat against her back and big brown eyes staring at him as she worked him like the expert she was. He came in her with with a groan, his fingers in her hair. She stood to her feet, smiling innocently as she showed him there was no remnant of him left in her mouth.

“You’re nasty,” he announced, grabbing her jaw to place a sloppy kids on her lips.

“Mhmmm, just the way I like it.”

They migrated to her bed shortly after, laying together in a comfortable silence. Anvika’s head was against his bare chest and herfingers traced the tattoos on his body. Lewis’ arm was around her waist and his hand massaged her plump bottom.

They were tired, exhausted even. But, they fought sleep like children, internally afraid of what the morning would bring. All actions had consequences whether good or bad. It was a mutual hope that what they’d done wouldn’t bring on the latter.

“Lewis?” Anvika called after some time.

“Yes, angel?”

“Are we gonna be okay?” Her voice trembled slightly. They’d crossed a line--a big one. She had wobbled on her boundaries. There was a lot to discuss and a lot to consider. It was an amazing experience, she couldn’t like, but her biggest fear was that she’d lose him as an important person in her life if reality didn’t set in the way they intended.

Lewis gave her a squeeze and brought his lips to her forehead. Sensing her worry, he reassured, “We’ll always be okay.” And she believed it.

#saturnville #black!reader #black reader #original writing #lewis hamilton fic #lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton x black!reader #lewis hamilton x black reader #lewis hamilton fanfic #f1 x black!reader #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #formula one #formula 1

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whiskersz · 3 months

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Angel and reader who’s also into fem fashion/drag so they keep stealing each others stuff to use

“is that my lipstick?”

“Is that my dress?”

“…touché”

This is pretty short, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless!

Warning for Valentino ment /neg...he's not there though, be not afraid.

-ˏˋ♥̩͙♥̩̩̥͙♥̩̥̩ ⑅ -ˏˋ♥̩͙♥̩̩̥͙♥̩̥̩ ⑅ -ˏˋ♥̩͙♥̩̩̥͙♥̩̥̩ ⑅

Late! Late, late, late, late!

You were supposed to meet up with your friends half an hour ago, and yet here you are still hanging around in your PJs.

You swing your closet open; this looks too boring, this is certainly way too tacky, it’s morning after all...ah, perfect! You haven’t worn this outfit in a while, and you remember receiving lots of compliments when you did. Your friends will surely appreciate it too.

You practically throw yourself at your desk, dangerously risking a fall from your chair; time for makeup!

A bit of moisturizer, some primer to help your makeup apply smoothly, foundation to cover up any stray blemish...you do everything in a bit of a hurry, so the time to apply lipstick comes fairly soon. You gaze at your whole collection, but nothing seems to be matching with what you’re wearing...except for one of them.

SUPER late!

If Angel doesn’t leave the Hotel right this instant, Valentino is not going to be pleased about his arrival.

Luckily his light makeup from yesterday is still somehow intact, so he only has to touch it up a bit before basically flying to his closet to choose the most appropriate fit for the day. There’s supposed to be a shooting today after all, so he needs to look his best.

Despite his wide collection of outfits, nothing particularly catches his eye this morning, which is not ideal since he can already hear the limousine supposed to pick him up pulling up in the driveway.

Come on, there has to be something...his room is a mess right now, maybe something he carelessly threw on his bed could work?

As if Heaven was listening, the first thing he lays his eyes upon happens to be the perfect dress for what he needs to do today.

It’s not exactly his...but hey, desperate times call for desperate measures.

You and Angel exit your rooms almost simultaneously, yours being a bit back into the hallway allows the two of you to meet as he leaves his;

“You’re late!” you point out as he’s busy locking his door.

“So are ya!” turning around, his eyes immediately travel to your lips; “Hey, is that my...?”

You nod, refraining from kissing his lips while wearing his own lipstick; another thing Valentino would not be happy about.

“Yep, and that is my dress.”

“Don’t blame me babes, it’s perfect for the occasion!”

You endearingly shake your head. Letting your boyfriend leave the Hotel first, you call out to him before he can open the front door.

“Angel, I’ll see you tonight, mhm?”

“Will do.” He sighs a bit, flashing you a smile nonetheless; “Have fun with your friends, yeah?”

Nodding, you let him go, already planning to stop by a couple shops to look for a little present for him – and to proudly point out to all of your friends that the lipstick you’re wearing is your boyfriend’s, in case any of them decides to compliment it.

#hazbin hotel x reader #angel dust x reader #x reader #angel dust hazbin hotel #hazbin x reader #angel dust

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matan4il · 1 year

Text

Buddie 616 meta

Maybe I’ll start with Eddie confirming something I’d already discussed in my meta posts more than once before, most recently in my 614 meta, which is that he married Shannon because she got pregnant. He heavily insinuated this to Bobby back in 217, but now he said it explicitly, to everyone, and without the same kind of weight which we saw from him in the past. I think this change is indicative of how he IS healing from the trauma of how badly his marriage failed and how guilty he’s felt over it, now that he’s capable of talking about it more lightly than he did before. I love that for our boy. ~~

Speaking of these men actually being boys, moron husbands, partners in dumbness, we got Buck and Eddie sharing one brain cell and NOT putting it to good use. Even though in the overall scheme of 911 things, that might not seem that significant, I have to say I just love seeing them like that. It’s FUN seeing them being morons who support each other in the way they try to deal with Chim thinking that just popping the question to Maddie is enough, or in Eddie supporting Buck’s dumbass suggestion of a flash mob, or just being pressed together in the fire truck ‘coz they never have any personal boundaries with each other and they don’t understand why those would even be needed (seriously, don’t think too long about how all of a sudden five people had to squeeze in the back instead of four, and OF COURSE it would be Buck and Eddie rubbing thighs together, because no other pair out of the whole team is as comfortable with each other’s bodies). This may not be the deepest part of their bond, but it IS a part of it, a consistent one, the daily partnership that’s the foundation for the big, important, profound parts. ~~

Once again, we get a demonstration of how the way Buck and Eddie are with each other is different to how they act with their other friends. Even when Eddie is exasperated with Buck, he never actually gets upset, he just tries to get Buck to focus, like we saw him in 516. But with Ravi, Eddie does kinda snap.

Buck as well, when he hears some unpleasant truths about Madney from Hen, there’s no fondness underlining their talk, as much as we know that they DO love each other and have a sibling-like relationship. But compare that to how insufferably affectionate the glances that Buddie exchanged in 504 were as Eddie did essentially the same thing for Buck. ~~

And then of course, we see how Hen has Chimney’s back in this ep, putting his well being first, but she does end up hurting him. They talk it over, and within the same ep she apologizes, he forgives her, everything is resolved, and they move. It’s lovely, but think about the difference in intensity between this and what Buddie went through back in s3. Buck files the lawsuit that would stop him from seeing Eddie in 304. Then the very reserved Eddie has a public meltdown, in the middle of a store, and right in front of his colleagues, because he can’t deal with Buck not being in his life. In fact, that’s the final straw that makes Eddie turn to street fighting. Not only that, because the intensity of his feelings overwhelms him, he doesn’t even directly express his hurt, he uses Chris to convey how much Eddie himself is missing Buck. When Buck realizes just how much pain he unintentionally caused, he wants to apologize, but Eddie is too hurt to be able to hear him out right away. It’s only in 306 that they finally talk, Eddie forgives Buck and then we get the beauty of their hug. But this is STILL not the final piece, no. The show will get back to this in the kitchen scene in 309, where Buck shows Eddie he’s worth apologizing to a second time (even though he’s not even asking Buck to), and the final shot of this is the domestic image of Buddifer on the couch, playing video games together. This is when we know that all is TRULY forgiven, when we get to see them once more as a family unit. Because that’s what they are on top of being best friends, like Hen and Chimney. ~~

I’ll point out that Madney and Buddie paralleling is not new. This has been an ongoing theme since Buck and Chim’s new love interests were both introduced in 201, and since Madney got their onset in 206. The very fact that Maddie thinking Chim’s cute is revealed through a dialogue between the Buckley siblings that also indicates Buck sees Eddie in the same light says it all. I have also gone on about how Buck and Maddie served as truth tellers, voicing their sibling’s crush back to them, I have talked about how Madney were friends first, incredibly domestic friends with their own intertwined routine, before they became explicitly romantic, I wrote a whole meta post about the parallels between Madney and Buddie in 512, and now I can add to this. Because Madney easily fell into the comfort of domestic life, Chim told us this week that got in the way of them stopping to make their commitment official. That’s in a sense Buddie’s story, too. They’ve been building their lives and family unit together without even clocking that they can and should stop to figure out what this thing between them is, and commit to it.

~~ (my weekly meta posts) (my Buddie gifs) (all of my content)

~~ ~~ My tag list will follow in the reblog, please let me know if you wanna be added/removed here.

~~ I’m so thankful to the amazing @whosoldherout for the meta gifs she does each week! They’re always challenging, and you always manage to knock it out of the park!

~~ Thank you to anyone supporting these meta posts. I could never express enough how grateful I am and that they continue to exist thanks to you!

#buddie #911meta #buddie meta #911 meta #9-1-1 #evan buckley #eddie diaz #911 #buddieedit #911edit #madney #911 spoilers #wm #buddie gifs #buddie edit #911 on abc #911abc #911 abc

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mrs5sn0w · 5 months

Text

Serenade of Shadows

I : A Dance of Shadows -> II : Whisper of Deceit -> III : A Symphony of Heartbreak -> IV: Fractured Reflections -> V : Shadows of Allegiance -> VI : Echoes of Decent

Series Masterlist

Young!Coriolanus Snow x Fem!reader

warnings: Arranged marriage, MILD ANGST, unrequited love, friends to enemies, enemies to lovers

Reader's surname : Flare

Time frame: Before, during and after tbosbas

Synopsis: In the events of Panem's political dynamics and the 10th annual Hunger Games, Coriolanus Snow and her find themselves entwined. Standing at the brink of an enforced union, 6 years later, their mutual trust unravels amidst a damaging misinterpretation, prompting Coriolanus to believe the wrong. As the glacial barriers guarding his emotions begin to melt, a revelation of profound feelings unfolds, initiating a sprint against time for redemption.

Coriolanus Snow, his mind a tempest of resentment and frustration, watched her retreat from the balcony. The air in the room hung heavy with the aftermath of their verbal clash, a battlefield of emotions where neither emerged unscathed.

As the door closed behind her, the room became a chamber of solitude, echoing with the haunting melodies of a loveless marriage. Snow's inner monologue, a symphony of bitterness, played out in the recesses of his thoughts.

"How did it come to this? A marriage that was supposed to be a strategic alliance has become a suffocating tangle of emotions. She is a woman I married for power, now challenges the very foundations of my carefully constructed existence."

The vivid memory of their confrontation at the balcony gnawed at him. His indifference, a fortress he had cultivated for survival, had been pierced by her words. Yet, the bitter taste of resentment lingered, refusing to be washed away by the Capitol's opulence.

"Lucy Gray Baird, a name I buried deep within, resurrected by her audacious tongue. The mere mention of Lucy Gray unleashes a storm of memories, a Pandora's box of emotions I long thought sealed."

In the privacy of his thoughts, Snow grappled with the ghosts of his past. Lucy Gray, the girl from the 10th Annual Hunger Games, had been a spark of humanity in a world that demanded heartlessness. Mrs Snow, or rather Ms Flare as he calls her, however, was a different challenge—an embodiment of Capitol expectations, a living reminder of the sacrifices demanded by power.

“She challenges me, questions the very essence of what I've become. The Capitol expects conformity, but she refuses to play the obedient wife. Her words sting, and yet, a part of me wonders if I am the monster she paints me to be."

The recollection of an incident, a pivotal moment that almost tipped the scales towards irreversible darkness, flashed in his mind—a rebel attack during a public speech. The President, had shielded his wife whom he hates most from a threat that sought to extinguish his existence.

The rebel attack had shattered the illusion of control, and chaos reigned as panic rippled through the crowd. In the midst of the mayhem, Coriolanus Snow's mind worked with a calculated precision, seizing the opportunity to manipulate the narrative to his advantage.

As the glass hurtled through the air towards the First Lady, Snow's eyes widened, not in shock, but in a calculated realisation. In that split second, he saw an opportunity—an opportunity to position himself as the saviour, the protector, and to ensure that she remained alive, at least until he could extract the full potential of her family's power of railroad business.

“Coryo ?" Her voice trembled, the fear in her eyes reflecting the disarray that had befallen the once-controlled environment, calling him by his nickname out of fear.

In response, Snow, a cunning puppeteer manipulating the strings of the situation, took decisive action.

“Get down!"

His command carried an authority that transcended their strained relationship. It was a directive, a calculated move to both protect her and reinforce his image as the authoritative figure in the face of rebellion.

As she hesitated, caught in the crossfire of rebellion, the glass sailed towards her. Snow, swift and deliberate, stepped forward, positioning himself between her and the imminent threat. The trajectory of the glass changed, its intended victim now obscured by the President himself.

The glass collided with Snow, and a shard found its mark, leaving him with a light but visible injury. Yet, the pain, though physical, was a small price to pay for the strategic advantage he gained.

"Sir, we need to evacuate! There might be more attacks!"

A voice from his security detail shouted amidst the confusion.

Snow, gritting his teeth against the pain, nodded, his eyes never leaving her.

"Get her to safety."

His order was concise, the words carrying a weight that hinted at a complexity beyond the immediate threat.

As she was ushered away by the security detail, her gaze locked with Snow's.

"Are you alright ?"

Her words held a genuine concern, a question that demanded a response beyond the physical injury.

Snow, his mind already spinning the narrative in his favour, managed a curt nod.

"I'll be fine. Just ensure your safety."

His words, though seemingly selfless, were laced with a subtle reminder of the debt owed.

"We can't let these rebels disrupt our way of life, sir. We need to show strength against such threats." Another member of the security detail chimed in, the sentiment aligning with Snow's own agenda.

"We'll make an example of those who dare challenge the Capitol. But first, tend to the wounded." Snow's tone was authoritative, his gaze still fixed on her as she was led away.

The rebel attack, though quelled, had left its mark. Snow, now nursing his injury, knew that this incident could be melded into a powerful narrative—a tale of sacrifice, resilience, and strength against dissent.

As they retreated from the grand hall, the echoes of the rebellion still lingering, Snow's mind was already at work, weaving the incident into the grand tapestry of Capitol politics. The rebel attack had been repelled, but in its wake, Snow had gained not only a strategic advantage but a hold on the fragile threads of her fate. It was a victory, not just against the rebels, but in the silent, shadowed game of power that played out behind the dazzling facade of the Capitol.

The air was thick with tension as security personnel rushed to secure the area and attend to the wounded. Coriolanus Snow, nursing his injury, moved with a calculated grace as he made his way to a more private space, away from the prying eyes of the Capitol.

His wife, guided by a concerned security detail, followed closely. The gravity of the situation hung heavy between them, the unspoken acknowledgment of a debt owed and a connection forged in the face of rebellion.

In a secluded room, she took charge. The grandeur of Capitol politics faded, revealing the vulnerability beneath the carefully constructed facade. Snow, despite his usual air of authority, allowed her to tend to his injury.

"Coryo?" Her voice, a whisper in the hushed aftermath, carried a note of concern. She dared to address him by the nickname, a gesture that hinted at a shift in the dynamics between them.

Snow, though still stoic, acknowledged her presence with a subtle nod. His eyes, usually guarded, betrayed a flicker of vulnerability as she inspected the wound. The shard had left a superficial but visible cut on his shoulder.

"You should've let me die,"

He remarked, the words heavy with the weight of disdain for the woman who held the potential key to his aspirations.

The first lady, focused on her task, responded without hesitation.

"I won't let you die."

Her hands worked swiftly, cleaning and dressing the wound. The air was thick with tension,

"Why?" Snow's question, uttered with a hint of curiosity, hung in the air. The complexity of the moment bore down on them, the rebel attack a mere backdrop to the intricate dance of power and vulnerability.

With her gaze steady, she met his eyes.

"Because I'm not like you. Despite everything, I can't just stand by and watch someone I care about suffer." Her words, though tinged with the pain of their strained relationship, held a conviction that made Snow pause.

"You could have let me die and taken advantage of the chaos," Snow mused, his tone a mixture of contemplation and resentment.

"Taken advantage how and why exactly ?"

She finished the dressing then locking eyes with him, discontinuing her question, she then added

"Besides, that's the difference between us, Snow. No matter how much you've hurt me, I can't turn my back on someone I once cared about. I won't let them strip away my humanity."

The conversation lingered in the air, a testament to the fractures in their relationship. The rebel attack, though thwarted, had exposed the vulnerabilities beneath their Capitol personas.

As they exited the room, the unspoken tension between them trailed like a shadow, a reminder of a connection strained by power and the remnants of a once-deep bond. The rebel attack, a mere catalyst, had unraveled a complex web of emotions, leaving them to grapple with the aftermath in the corridors of Capitol authority.

The incident, a turning point in their entangled narrative, injected a dose of ambivalence into his feelings. Hatred and gratitude danced a precarious waltz within him.

The Capitol's demands grew more stringent, and her defiance became a thorn in the carefully cultivated image of President Snow. The public appearances, the forced smiles, and the facade of unity clashed with the internal turmoil.

"The Capitol revels in the illusion of perfection. Our loveless marriage is a spectacle, a tragic play that demands flawless performances. Yet, her refusal to conform threatens the very script I've authored for our lives."

In the quiet moments of introspection, Snow found himself grappling with a question that refused to be silenced

"Could it have been different if Lucy Gray stood in Flare's shoes? Would the Capitol's expectations have been met more effortlessly with the girl from District 12 by my side?"

The answer, elusive and shrouded in the complexities of his own psyche, haunted his contemplations.

"Lucy Gray, the one who saw through me, the one I couldn't control. Ms Flare, the one who challenges me, who refuses to be a puppet. Each a reflection of a different truth, a truth that makes the walls of my carefully constructed world crumble."

As the days turned into weeks, the cracks in their marriage deepened. The refusal to share a bed, the bitter exchanges, and the persistent defiance painted a portrait of a union hanging by a fragile thread.

He had fully forgotten who took care of his injury.

Amid the ruins of their marriage, Snow found himself haunted by a realization. She, for all her defiance, was a constant presence he couldn't escape.

"She challenges me, defies the Capitol, and yet, she remains. A thorn in my side, a reminder of the compromises demanded by power. The Capitol may revel in perfection, but our imperfect dance continues, a discordant melody in the grand symphony of Panem."

In the quiet stillness of the night, Coriolanus Snow stood at the threshold of their bedroom, watching her sleep on the solitary refuge of the sofa. The grand bed, adorned with memories now tainted by bitterness, seemed to mock him with its empty expanse.

As moonlight cast a delicate glow upon her features, Snow couldn't help but be captivated by the peaceful slumber that graced her. The tumultuous lines of defiance, etched upon her face in waking hours, faded away, leaving behind a serene vulnerability that was impossible to deny.

A pang of guilt crept within Snow's thoughts as he observed her in the soft embrace of sleep. She was a constant presence he couldn't escape, even in the solitude of their shared residence. The realization haunted him—a thorn in his side, a reminder of the compromises entwined with the pursuit of power.

As the Capitol slept in the deceptive allure of its opulence, Snow found himself wrestling with conflicting emotions. She challenged him, defied the Capitol, and yet, she remained—an indelible presence that lingered in the shadows of his contemplations.

Snow, restless in his thoughts, couldn't escape the haunting image of her. There she was, on the sofa, shivering in the cold embrace of the room. Her beauty, undeniable even in the vulnerability of sleep, tugged at something buried deep within him.

A twinge of remorse settled in his chest for relegating her to the sofa while he occupied the grand bed. The inappropriateness of their positions mirrored the fractures within their marriage, a reflection of the sacrifices demanded by the Capitol's unforgiving expectations. He questioned the decisions that had led them to this point, the choices made in the pursuit of power and control.

Unable to ignore the stirring within him, Snow rose from the bed. His steps were quiet, deliberate, as he approached her. The soft glow of the moonlight outlined her features, and for a moment, he saw beyond the politics, beyond the manipulations.

Gently, he lifted her figure, cradling her with a care that seemed at odds with the ruthlessness he exhibited in the daylight. The weight of her in his arms felt both burdensome and strangely comforting. He carried her to the bed, laying her down with a tenderness that contradicted the harsh realities of their world.

The duvet, a luxurious fabric that spoke of Capitol excess, was drawn over her. He paused for a moment, watching her sleep with a sense of guilt and obligation. It was a quiet repayment, an acknowledgment of the debt owed when she tended to his injury during the rebel attack.

As he stood by the bedside, a wave of conflicting emotions washed over him. The Capitol demanded sacrifices, but in the stillness of the night, he grappled with the notion that perhaps some sacrifices were too steep.

His thoughts, however, were interrupted as she stirred in her sleep. Confusion clouded her waking eyes, momentarily disoriented by the change in surroundings. Snow, ever the master of composed demeanor, waited in the shadows, his mind racing with unspoken questions.

She blinked, adjusting to the dim light, and the confusion in her eyes gradually gave way to recognition. Yet, instead of questioning her altered surroundings, she shrugged it off with a nonchalant dismissal. It was a testament to the resilience she carried, a defiance against the oppressive weight of their world.

In that moment, as she settled back into a peaceful slumber, Snow found himself questioning the narratives that had shaped his perception of her.

Was she truly the one who had betrayed him to Dean Casca Highbottom during the 10th Annual Hunger Games, or were there layers to her that defied the simplicity of his assumptions ?

He couldn’t escape the thoughts of her family, the influential figures in the railroad business, their wealth intricately tied to the veins of Panem’s transportation. The clinking of metal against metal echoed in his mind, a symbolic resonance of their family’s vast empire, built on the tracks that connected districts.

His contemplations lingered in the shadows, torn between the duty to power and the unspoken complexities of a connection that refused to be silenced.

The room, once again cloaked in silence, held the answers to questions he hesitated to ask. Love, power, and the enigmatic dance between duty and vulnerability continued to weave their intricate patterns in the quiet hours of the night. As Snow retreated to his thoughts, the moon casting its glow on a world steeped in complexity, the Capitol slept on, unaware of the turmoil playing out behind the facades of opulence and control.

The fractured reflections of his emotions mirrored the complexities of the world he navigated. Love, power, and the price paid for conformity converged in a tumultuous dance, each step revealing the intricate patterns of a life entangled in the expectations of Panem.

The weeks unfolded like a series of calculated movements on a chessboard. Her role as the First Lady demanded appearances at public events, alongside Snow, where their carefully orchestrated display of unity clashed with the underlying tensions. The Capitol's eyes were always watchful, scrutinizing every gesture, every smile, seeking flaws in the flawless facade.

As they attended meetings, her decisions sparked silent discontent in Snow. She navigated the political landscape with a subtle authority, making choices that reflected her individual agency. The unspoken resentment simmered beneath the surface, an undercurrent that threatened to pull them further apart.

During one pivotal meeting, she proposed a policy that diverged from Snow's expectations. The exchange that followed became a community of their strained partnership

"do you think it wise to make decisions without consulting me first ?"

"Coriolanus, my role as the First Lady extends beyond decorative appearances. I have a voice, and I intend to use it for the betterment of Panem."

The tension in the room mirrored the growing distance between them. Snow's control over the narrative of their union was slipping, and he felt the weight of his vulnerability.

"She challenges not only my authority but the very foundation of Capitol norms. Is this rebellion or naivety? Regardless, her decisions amplify the fractures in our marriage, exposing the delicate balance we precariously maintain."

Yet, amidst the clashes, there were moments when their shared history surfaced—a glimmer of the connection that had once been more than a political alliance.

One evening, after a particularly grueling day of Capitol duties, they found themselves alone in the residence. The silence hung between them, heavy with unspoken words and unresolved tensions.

"Coriolanus, we can't keep living like this. Our marriage, our partnership, it's unraveling."

"Perhaps it was never meant to be more than a facade, a marriage of convenience."

"But we were more than that once. There was a time when our dreams defied the Capitol's constraints."

Her words, a plea for acknowledgment, echoed through the room. Snow's gaze softened momentarily, the hardened exterior revealing a glimpse of the man he used to be.

"The Capitol changes people. It demands conformity, and we, too, have succumbed to its influence."

The admission hung in the air, a confession of the price they paid for power. In that vulnerable moment, the invisible threads that bound them tightened.

"Can we reclaim what was lost, or are we forever tangled in the web of Capitol expectations? her plea lingers in my thoughts, a haunting reminder that beneath the layers of bitterness, there remains a shared history—a history that refuses to be erased."

Days turned into a relentless cycle of public appearances, meetings, and forced smiles. The masquerade of their union continued, leaving them both entangled in the performance of a lifetime. The Capitol's grip tightened, and Snow found himself increasingly isolated, grappling with the conflicting emotions that surged within.

"Isolation, a consequence of power. The higher I climb, the lonelier it becomes. Her presence, both a comfort and a source of conflict, underscores the delicate balance between love and duty.

TAGLIST : @cookielovesbook-akie @rosewine-5 @princessloveweird @randomgurl2326

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circusmania · 4 months

Note

Can i request some fluff with platonic yandere SCP 2662 who see reader who is also immortal but doesn't really know about it that is uneffected by SCP 2662 anomalous effect as a friends?

Both of them playing animal crossing

(Platonic) Yandere!SCP-2662 x GN!Reader ──────────────────────── Notes: Tysm for requesting this. I had so much reading about SCP-2662 and writing this request! I hope you enjoy ♡. Muah Muah ✮

───────────────────────

SCP-2662, a Keter class anomaly, is a humanoid who's actually (surprisingly) pretty chill. Also known as Cthulhu f'UCK OFF! (we'll just call him Cthulhu here), has a pretty humanoid(ish) appearance, along with fully functional cephalopod limbs attached to his back. He possesses the ability to manipulate and put false information into humans' dreams. Although his "followers" view him as all high and mighty, Cthulhu has no intentions of being their god. Rather, he prefers to sit in his containment cell and go about his day. Be it reading his daily newspaper or playing his many video games.

Tossing the introduction aside, You, an immortal being, had landed in the hands of the SCP Foundation. Be it intentional or not, you're stuck in your cell whether you like it or not. It ain't all that bad though, you're pretty cooperative and kind to those assigned to you, earning you a lot of rewards.

Once the Foundation found out that you're unaffected by various anomalous effects, new doors opened for you. One of those doors was he, himself, Cthulhu. A kind but massive beast, you two hit it off well.

At first, Cthulhu had thought you were another of his "devoted" followers.

You found him sitting at his table, a newspaper in hand and a coffee in the other.

"Oh, Saint Alagadda... what show are you going to put on now!? Hello?! Task Force!! Another one got in!!"

You stared at him, dumbfounded.

"Excuse me?"

You cringed, and he stopped yelling once he realized you weren't stripping or yelling insanities.

"You're not going to smear your blood and/or fluids on my walls…?" He asked, warily.

"WHAT!?? No?? What made you think that??"

He narrowed his beady eyes.

"Well, can't rule you out yet... You might just be faking it..."

"Right..."

"Trust issues much…" (He glared at you).

"In the meantime, you can stay...mm... over there." He pointed to the furthest corner from him possible.

You obeyed and sat in the corner, not making your case any better, since obeying him made it look like you were following his commands as your “god”.

Whenever you were pushed into these experiments, the researchers never gave you any information on the anomaly. Normally you don't care, but you would've appreciated some info on this one. By far, this one has made it to the top of your list of "Top Ten Weirdest first impressions."

You remained in the corner for hours a day to maximize as much exposure as possible (occasionally you got breaks and check-ups from the personnel). At the 2-month mark, Cthulhu had become pretty fond of you. He was very relieved that you showed no signs of wanting to perform rituals for him.

He allowed you to join him at his table and provided you with your very own cup of coffee! (If coffee isn't up to your taste, he's more than happy to supply you with anything else. Well, anything that the Foundation will allow).

Your relationship with Cthulhu got stronger as he invited you to join him in his many video games. Be it horror, indie, action, survival, or RPG, he's happy to be able to play with someone who views him only as a friend.

"You know, I'm happy you're different. It's nice that I can finally interact with someone without them flashing their cloaca at me."

"... Do I even want to know?"

As time passed, you two got to know more and more about each other. It took Cthulhu some time to open up after the "Massy's Big Chance" incident. You found out that Cthulhu had run away from home when his dad wouldn't stop projecting his sex cult on him. Yikes. You comforted him the best you could.

However, when he really started to like you (platonically) was the time when his worshippers broke into his cell again, and he found out that you weren't just a regular human.

This time, he was in the shower, and you were the unfortunate one to fall victim.

Cue in 3 naked, sex-crazed humans.

"What the actual fuck... How did you three get in here??" You had a newspaper in your hands and were sitting at his place at the table.

They spared you no less than a glance and made their way toward the bathroom.

"Uh, the hell? You can't go in th-"

You made the mistake of grabbing onto one of the humans' arms, and they quickly pulled out a knife and stabbed your arm.

You shrieked, alerting Cthulhu. Although being immortal, you could still feel pain, and god did this hurt like a bitch.

Cthulhu came rushing out, grabbing his follower's attention.

"Oh, great one! We've come to liberate you!"

He paid no mind to them, his focus was on you and your bleeding arm. Which didn't look well in his follower's eyes.

"Oh, sweet Alagadda! Are you oka-" He started to make his way towards you when one of his followers jumped in front of him.

"But first, we'll start with a sacrifice!"

"This one will do!"

One of the humans grabbed a fistful of your hair and pulled your head back. He raised his knife, and before he could reach your neck, he got sucker punched into a wall by Cthulhu. Really unexpected considering Cthulhu's nature.

He scooped you up in his arms, not letting anyone touch you till the Task Force arrived with medics.

"Don't worry... I just so happen to be immortal…" Your voice strained and weak as you tried not to pass out from the blood loss.

"WHAT??"

You ended up fainting anyways.

Fast-forward...

"Never thought you could actually hit someone."

You sat on the floor, leaning against Cthulhu's shoulder. Your arm was tightly bandaged, despite your protests.

He sighed. "Neither did I... Must've been the adrenaline."

Cthulhu was still annoyed that you hadn't told him earlier about your immortality.

"To be fair, you never asked."

He rolled his eyes. "I'm just glad you're safe."

He smiled in his own unique way and you returned the gesture. You two spent the afternoon playing Animal Crossing together and blabbering about anything that crossed your minds.

That day, Cthulhu promised himself to protect you at all costs. Perhaps, one day, when he's "older" you two will live together in a house. Playing all the video games possible and away from anyone that could tear you two apart. ──────────────────────── Cites: “SCP-2662 - SCP Foundation.” The SCP Foundation, 15 March 2023, https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/scp-2662. (Official info on SCP-2662)

“SCP-2662 | Heroes Wiki | Fandom.” Heroes Wiki, https://hero.fandom.com/wiki/SCP-2662. (Additional info on SCP-2662)

Bierman, Ed. “Skeeve Online - SCP Foundation.” The SCP Foundation, 15 December 2022, https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/skeeve-online. (Massy's Big Chance incident)

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sydsaint · 1 month

Text

Love Of My Life <3

Summary: The reader shows up to her hotel room late in the morning after a particularly interesting night out. Upon arriving back to her hotel room, she is confronted by her best friend regarding her whereabouts.

It's around 10 o'clock in the morning when you finally make it back to yours and Mia's hotel room. You turn the knob slowly with your free hand, clutching your jacket and purse in the other. You pray that Mia has already gotten up and is at the gym, which will spare you the embarrassment of explaining where you've been.

"YN LN!" Mia screams at you as soon as the door creeks open.

"Hey, Mia." You slip into the room with a sheepish smile. "You're here late. Skipping the gym today?" You joke with her.

Mia moves across the room at lightening speed toward you. You wince as she stops just inches in front of you with a worried and annoyed look on her face.

"Where in the world have you been?" Mia confronts you, setting her hands on your shoulders. "I've been worried sick!" She scolds you.

"Okay, mom." You giggle. "Sorry, my phone died so I couldn't text to and let you know I wasn't coming back last night." You explain.

Mia lets you go and you head over to your bed so you can set your stuff down. You walk over to your bed and plop down onto the mattress with a sigh. Mia eyes you curiously, catching a glimpse of what appears to be some hickeys littering your chest and neck but skillfully hidden by your shirt for the moment.

"Oh my gosh!" Mia walks over to your bed. "You were with someone last night?" She points to your neck.

"What? Pfft, no." You lie. "That's a bruise from my curling iron." You insist.

Mia doesn't believe a word coming out of your mouth as you lie to her. But she backs off for a moment to give you some space. You rest for a moment before you get back up and head for the bathroom. Mia follows after you and watches you walk like you're legs are bothering you.

"YN, girl." Mia trails after you. "The hickies? The sore legs? Who dicked you down last night, girl?" She asks you.

"I'll never tell." You giggle and turn on the shower. "As eager as you sound, you might try and steal him from me." You joke.

Mia laughs and twirls the ring on her finger. "Right." She rolls her eyes at lets you shower.

Later into the day, you and Mia head down to the arena for Smackdown. The two of you head for the locker rooms and get changed for the tag match that you've got against the Kabuki Warriors later.

"Damn, YN." Mia catches another glimpse of the various hickies and love-bites on your neck and chest while you're changing. "I hope that you brought extra foundation." She jokes. "Unless you want the whole world to know you were getting freaky last night with someone."

You laugh and pull out a brand new bottle of foundation from your makeup bag. "I've got that covered, thanks." You assure her.

"YN." Mia whines and scoots up next to you. "Come on! Tell me who it was!" She begs.

"Nope." You shake your head. "You can guess. But I'm not giving you any hints besides the fact that it's someone we work with." You insist.

Mia groans and you flash an amused smile as you watch the wheels in her head turn. Mia sits in silence for a while lost in thought while you apply your makeup.

"Come up with an answer yet, Mia?" You ask her once you're makeup is done.

"Austin Theory? Or Grayson Waller? Or both?" Mia asks you.

You burst out laughing and shake your head. "Mia!" You giggle. "No! Neither of them."

Mia groans again and the two of you head out to catch your match. You arrive down at the ramp a bit early so you hang out and watch LA Knight finish up a match against Santos Escobar.

You watch the tv monitor intently, soaking up Knight's charisma through the screen. Mia notices you're staring and ponders on whether or not you've just accidently given yourself away in regards to who you where with last night.

Knight's match ends and he heads backstage. You and Mia pass him on your way out and you lock eyes with the Megastar for a moment.

"YN." Knight nods to you as you pass him. "Why the throwback outfit?" He asks you slyly. "Hiding something?"

You smile to yourself and roll your eyes at Knight's comment. You and Mia head down to the ring and Mia is pestering you with questions the moment you're in the ring.

"LA Knight?" Mia confronts you. "Oh, YN, girl. You have got to give me details later." She pleads with you.

"Mia! No!" You laugh.

You and Mia pick up a lucky win against the Kabuki Warriors and head backstage again. Mia is quick to start pestering you again once you're back in the locker room.

"YN come on!" Mia insists. "Did you see how you looked when you came back to the hotel this morning?" She asks you. "Because I did. He gave it to you good, girl. And I need details!"

"No, Mia. Not happening." You laugh.

Mia hovers at your side, unrelenting in her quest for the intimate details of your night. "Come on! Just some small details!" She asks again. "Is he kinky? I bet he's kinky. What position? Doggy? No! Cowgirl? He kinds seems like a cowgirl type of man to me."

"Mia Yim!" You burst out laughing and shake your head. "You are married!" You remind her. "Do i need to call your husband and let him know that you're pestering me about my sex life?" You threaten her jokingly.

"Bold of you to assume he cares." Mia giggles.

You and Mia both laugh and get packed up to head out. You are in the middle of packing away your boots carefully into your bag when someone knocks on the door. Mia answers and you see her step out into the hall before you can see who's at the door.

You don't pay much attention to Mia's absence until you hear a familiar hearty chuckle out in the hall. Your eyes widen as you realize whos out in the hall with Mia and sprint to the door.

"Mia!" You stumble out into the hall and find Mia leaned up against the doorframe and chatting with LA Knight. "Go! Out! Now!" You grab her shoulder and pull her back into the locker room.

"YN, darlin'." Knight chuckles as you shove Mia back into the locker room. "You're friend here is quite the curious little lamb." He teases.

You turn around and glare at Mia before turning back to Knight. "I am so sorry about her." You apologize.

"Don't be!" Knight waves his hand dismissively. "I ain't shy, darlin', you know that." He reminds you. "Happy to share some fun details with a mutual friend." He winks at Mia behind you. "Anyway, we still on for tonight?" He turns his attention back to you.

"Yeah yeah." You nod. "Just give me a minute to grab my bags and beat my best friend." You turn back to Mia.

Knight chuckles again as you shove Mia back into the locker room. He hears you and Mia laughing and playfully arguing for a moment before you pop back into the hall with your bags in hand.

#la knight #la knight x reader #wrestling #wrestling fanfiction #wrestling fanfic #wrestling fic #wwe fanfiction #wwe fanfic #wwe fic #wwe #wwe x reader #syd's wrestling fics

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dinums · 1 month

Text

The Unexpected Visit

Thomas Shelby x Reader.

Summary: A Filipina woman accidentally travelled back in time. There, she began to work for the Shelbys

Part 2

"Hurry up! We're going to be late for your birthday celebration!" My best friend, Ava, shouted down the hall, prompting me to respond in the same hurried tone.

"Alright! Just give me a moment!"

I looked at myself in the mirror, feeling a sense of satisfaction as I admired my appearance. I was wearing a stylish black and white dress that fell just below my knees, with a white bow tie adorning my hair. My makeup was flawlessly done, accentuating my features.

"Shit, ang ganda ko," I murmured to myself. After securing a job as an animator and starting a new life in the United States, I was finally able to enjoy the fruits of my labor. This was where I would find happiness. Despite missing my home country, the Philippines, the familiar places there held too many painful memories that I preferred to leave behind.

Everything was supposed to go smoothly, until it didn't. From the far corner of my room, I caught a glimpse of someone—a dark figure—watching me. A chill ran down my spine, and my body instinctively went into fight-or-flight mode. Without a second thought, I fled from my room, convinced that the figure was pursuing me. It emitted a sinister laugh, filling the air with an eerie presence. Was this what my mother had warned me about?

---

"Puta... tangina, tangina! Ava, where's Ava?" These thoughts raced through (Y/N)'s mind as she ran, desperately searching for her friend while panic consumed her. As she neared the stairs, she could swear that the figure was still chasing her. In her haste, she stumbled and began to fall, but just as she was about to hit the ground, a blinding light engulfed everything.

---

On a quiet evening in the streets of Watery Lane, Birmingham, Thomas Shelby lay in his bed, lost in thought, cigarette in hand. Suddenly, the drawers started opening, and the air seemed to thin. The entire house shook, as if an earthquake were rocking the foundations. Thomas swiftly grabbed his gun, prepared to confront any potential enemy lurking in the darkness of the night. It felt as if the very earth were tearing apart at the seams. He was about to call for his family when a brilliant flash of white light blinded him, causing him to shield his eyes and turn away.

A loud crash followed, accompanied by the sound of a woman's voice. Thomas, now disoriented, cautiously approached the source of the disturbance, gun still aimed at the woman who had appeared in his home. She seemed panicked, her eyes darting around as she struggled to get to her feet, wincing in pain. It appeared that she had injured her leg, possibly a sprain, which forced her to remain seated on the floor.

Their eyes met, and the woman's breath seemed to catch in her throat. Tears welled up in her eyes as she stared at the gun pointed at her. With trembling hands raised in self-defense, she stammered, "Who the hell are you, eh?" Thomas questioned her, raising an eyebrow in curiosity. This woman was unlike any he had encountered before.

"M-me? (Y/N), my name... (Y/N). Please, can you... I don't... the..." Her words faltered as Thomas took a step closer, the gun still pointed at her. Overwhelmed, she broke down, crouching on the floor, averting her gaze. If she were to die, she would rather not see it coming.

As the door opened, she looked up and saw a woman and two other men entering. When her eyes met theirs and then returned to Thomas, the woman spoke up, moving to disarm him.

---

"Jesus, Tom! What are you doing to this poor lady?!" I heard the woman exclaim after the gun was taken away from him. I let out a sigh of relief. Tom, as the man was called, pinched the bridge of his nose, exasperated. The two other men seemed to be stifling their laughter, although it was difficult to discern as everything started to blur, as if the room were spinning.

When I regained consciousness, I found myself in bed, still in the same room as before—at least from what I could remember. As I surveyed my surroundings, I realized I was still wearing the dress, although the bows in my hair were gone. When I attempted to get up, the door opened, revealing the woman from earlier. In her right hand, she carried a tray with tea.

"Don't. You'll hurt yourself," she cautioned, pointing at my ankle. I nodded, and asked, "Can you tell me where I am...? Can I go home? Please..."

"You're in Small Heath. Thomas said you appeared out of thin air. How did that happen?" she responded.

"What year is it?"

"1919."

Small Heath, in 1919? That was far away from home, possibly evenin a different era altogether. It seemed impossible for me to have traveled there in the blink of an eye, let alone through time itself. Sensing my confusion, the woman tried to reassure me. She set the tray of tea on the bedside table and introduced herself as Polly Gray. I nodded in acknowledgment and placed the cup of tea on my lap.

"You're not from around here, are you?" Polly asked, her gaze lingering on the tea leaves in my cup.

"No, I'm not," I replied. She clicked her tongue, taking the cup from me and placing it back on the tray.

"Are you a Gypsy?" she inquired.

"No, I'm not," I repeated. I was starting to feel a glimmer of hope that Polly might be able to help me find my way back home. However, instead of directly answering my question, she posed one of her own.

"Can you read? Are you good with numbers?"

"I can read and do math. Why?"

"If you're going to stay here, you might as well work for us," Polly suggested, her tone implying that she had more to say on the matter.

"Why do you want to help me?" I asked but only got silence in return. The unexpected turn of events had left me bewildered, but I knew I had to gather my wits and adapt to this new reality. Working for Polly and her associates seemed like the only option available to me at the moment. Maybe, just maybe, they could provide me with the answers I sought and help me find a way back home.

"I'll work for you"

"Good."

////

It had been precisely one month and four days since I had become a part of the Shelby family. Despite initial reservations and a sense of distrust, Polly graciously took me under her wing. The other members of the family had an unspoken understanding not to pry into certain events that were yet to happen in their lives, acknowledging that I possessed knowledge of the future. However, that didn't stop some of them, particularly Finn, from asking what it was like. It was a joy to share stories with the young boy, and I was grateful that they kept my arrival in Small Heath a secret, creating a story on how I got up here, to not make the townsfolk ask questions, but then again who would ask the Shelby family questions?

In the present moment, I found myself inside the bustling betting shop, surrounded by a lively crowd. My responsibilities included tallying numbers, verifying receipts, and handling money and the transactions that came with it. The work was demanding, but it provided me with a sense of purpose, a distraction.

Across the room, John stood by the blackboard, inscribing odds while announcing them loudly for all to hear. Meanwhile, Arthur and Thomas had stepped out for a while, leaving Polly and me to manage the shop, with Ada looking after Finn.

"Mas maganda siguro kung animator nalang ako... or if I had a calculator here," I mused to myself, finishing up the last part of my work and giggling at the thought.

"A calculator? What's that?" I heard John's familiar voice as he approached me, a toothpick dangling from his mouth.

"It's- er, a device that helps you with calculations—counting, subtracting, multiplying, and even dividing numbers," I explained.

"Even the big ones?" John asked, curiosity evident in his eyes.

"Even the big ones," I confirmed, a hint of amusement in my voice.

Our conversation was abruptly interrupted when a bloodied Arthur burst into the shop, sending panic through the air. Everyone was ordered to leave, and Polly swiftly took charge, guiding Arthur to the house connected to the betting shop. Ada and John exchanged concerned glances, and I hurriedly joined them, mindful of my sprained ankle. I grabbed a clean cloth to help with Arthur's wounds, while Ada rushed to fetch a bucket of water.

Word seemed to spread quickly, and soon Thomas barged into the house, a bottle of alcohol in hand. He took the cloth from me, and I sat there, observing the scene. Conversations and typical sibling banter filled the air as Arthur and Ada exchanged words, while John and I simply watched them. Arthur began to explain how Inspector Campbell had asked him to assist with a robbery, recounting the encounter. Lost in my own thoughts, I couldn't help but voice my concerns.

"Will you help him? I mean, I wouldn't want to even think of helping a man who beat and bruised me... but..." I trailed off, realizing that all eyes were on me.

"Sorry, please continue," I quickly added.

"We don't help coppers," John stated firmly beside me.

Arthur continued, "He knew all about our war record... said we were patriots like him. I told him we'd take a family meeting and vote."

Knowing this was turning into Family business, I quietly saw myself out, going back to the betting shop to try and do extra work to keep myself busy. Despite the trust I had gained from the family, I understood that certain matters were their own to handle. It was their business, and I respected their boundaries.

///

My mind couldn't seem to shake off the lingering thoughts from our conversation. It had been a good thirty minutes, yet I couldn't help but wonder if the Shelby family would truly help that man with the robbery. After all, how could they trust someone who had beaten one of their own? The situation seemed precarious at best.

"Sana talaga bumalik na ako. Mas masaya siguro ako kung animator na lang ako... please, Lord, babait na ako kung ibabalik niyo lang ako..." I quietly murmured to myself, longing for the familiarity of my previous life.

"What are you blabbering about, eh?" a gruff voice interrupted my thoughts. I looked up to find Thomas standing before me, a quizzical expression on his face. I raised an eyebrow at him, which seemed to amuse him.

"You haven't apologized since the first time we met," I said, a hint of amusement in my voice.

"And you haven't told me what you said," he replied, curiosity piqued.

"It was a curse. I was cursing you to make a bad decision for pointing a gun at me," I snickered.

A moment of silence passed between us before we both chuckled. "So maybe it isn’t a curse... I was actually wishing to go back home. I even asked the Lord. I told Him that if He took me back, I would be nicer. I just think it would be nice if I could work as an animator. After all, I studied to become one after everything," I confessed, grateful for the Shelby family for taking me in and caring for me in their own ways.

To my surprise, Arthur and I discovered a shared love for drawing. It became apparent when he noticed me doodling one day, and he revealed that he used to love drawing horses. We began to draw together from time to time, he even thought me a few things or so.

Thomas, on the other hand, was more reserved. We didn't have much in common, but whenever I spoke in my native language, he would ask questions about its meaning. He also showed patience when I acted differently, allowing me to talk to him in a more casual manner over time.

John, being closer to my age, was a friendly presence. He had a boisterous personality, and I appreciated having someone to distract me from the noises in my head, a breath of fresh air in this intense environment.

Ada was easy to get along with. She lent me some of her clothing and was always open to conversation. She reminded me of my friends back home, particularly Ava.

Polly and I had a relationship reminiscent of the one I shared with my mother. At first, it felt like walking on thin air, but as I diligently carried out my duties and refrained from meddling in their affairs, she began to open up. She treated me like her own, and when I mentioned the similarities between her tea leaf reading and the practices of lbularyos or witch doctors, she encouraged me to share more.

And now, here I sat with Thomas Shelby himself. Thomas, who stayed quiet for most parts. His presence made me feel like I should continue talking.

"You lot can speak a different language too, right? Maybe you can teach me so that when I go back, I can make an impression, hm?" I suggested, which made him quirk a brow

"Then you'll have to teach me yours too, so it'll be fair, eh?" he replied with a smile and a shake of his head. Jackpot.

"Sure. Speaking of learning, do you know how I got good with numbers?" I asked, looking at him intently. It was just the two of us in the betting shop now, giving me the freedom to share. He then sat down next to me. Taking his gesture as an invitation to keep talking, I continued.

"When I was seven years old, my parents enrolled me in a program, a math center. It took me eight years to complete the whole program!" I explained, shivering at the memories.

"You didn't go to school?" he inquired.

"Oh, I did. I attended school while also studying math at that center. By the time I was sixteen, I was juggling school subjects like statistics, probabilities, and calculus, along with history lessons about my country... all that stuff. Later on, I learned animation, which gave me something to do, something I enjoyed."

"What do you do in animation?" Thomas asked, my face seemed to look very excited as i moved my chair closer to him, as if it wod be easy for him to be absorbing the knowledge I was about to share.

"Well," I began, a smile playing on my lips, "I draw illustrations, frame by frame. Basically, you see this?" I gestured, moving my hand as if I'm waving. He nodded in response as If my gesture wasn't obvious. "I draw something like that, people in motion, you know, like those pictures Ada goes to see. But Instead of people, its drawings. That was my job."

"And you can't do that now?" Thomas questioned, curiosity evident in his voice.

"Well...its easier to do it digitally," I explained, trying to find the right words to describe the concept, I used my hands, waving them in the air as if it would help the situation. Seeing his puzzled expression, I sighed and admitted defeat. "You know... its like this technology. It's hard to explain, to be honest. It's giving me a headache just thinking about it."

Thomas nodded, tilting his head slightly to indicate that he had listened to my explanation. After awhile more, we both stood up

"I've go to go, somewhere I need to be"

"Oh? Did my curse work? You're off to make a bad decision?" I joked which earned me another smile and a shake of his head.

"Maybe tomorrow, Do you drink?"

"That depends, is there an occasion?" I asked,walking over to the window, there I realised it was already dark, we've talked throughout the afternoon.

"Just come, eh?"

"Ask me again next time and I'll agree, if we spend too much time your ears might bleed."

"Next time then."

///

She stayed in Thomas' room during her stay, a decision made by the family. As she headed upstairs, she spotted Polly taking care of Finn. Pausing in her task, Polly spoke up.

"Need any help?"

"No, just check on Ada for me, thank you, love," she replied, and I agreed to do so.

"Alright, goodnight, Pol."

"Goodnight, love."

Making my way upstairs, I found Ada in her room.

"Are you going to sleep? Pol asked me to check up on you," I asked, and she yawned and nodded, pushing me towards Thomas' room.

"Yeah, off to bed. You too. I can manage myself. Goodnight, (Y/N)!"

"Oh, goodnight Ada," I said before she shut the door, leaving me confused, what are you up to Ada? I walked to the bed and crawled under the covers, ready to sleep.

As I drifted off, I couldn't help but utter a quiet gratitude, "Thank you, po," to no one in particular.

---

"Pol, do you know anyone who might know a way for me to get back? I think I'm losing hope already," I asked Polly, seeking some answers. It had been quite a hectic week word of mouth saying Thomas shooting someone, Mr. Campbell raiding homes of communists, Ada's pregnancy, and Thomas picking a fight with the Lee family.

"Oh, love. Just a little longer, hm? You'll go back. I'm sure of it," Polly said, her words providing temporary comfort. I had grown attached to the Shelby family, and the thought of leaving without knowing their fate weighed heavily on my mind.

"You know, Poll, I'm scared. If I do leave, then what about you guys? I won't ever get to see you all again... I won't know how you guys are doing unless I can read it from history books. I won't know how to help," I confessed, my voice filled with concern.

She took my hand in hers, offering reassurance. "Don't worry, love. Just give us a proper goodbye, and we'll be fine, alright?"

"I'll miss you if I do go," I admitted, a touch of sadness in my voice.

"We'll miss you too," she replied, understanding my worries.

---

That night, I decided to stay up late. I sat in the kitchen, working on a few doodles on a piece of paper. I drew frogs, horses, Polly, Ada, and Finn. The door swung open, revealing a drenched Thomas holding a bottle of whiskey.

"Woah," I exclaimed, surprised by his sudden entrance.

"A drink?" he offered, though his tone felt more like an order than an invitation. Remembering my promise, I grabbed two glasses and placed them on the table as he poured a drink for both of us.

"So, rough day? What happened this time?" I asked, curious to hear the events that had happened, though by the looks of it, thos wasn't a good one.

"I shot a horse," he replied. My eyes widened, my mouth agape, silently urging him to continue.

"It looked at me the wrong way, so I..." he trailed off, the weight of his actions evident in his voice.

"I look at you the wrong way most of the time. Maybe you should've done the same to me," I mumbled, moving my chair closer to him. He sighed, taking a swig of his drink.

"Back in France, I got used to seeing men die, but I never got used to seeing horses die," he confessed, his tone filled with remorse.

I nodded, taking small sips of my whiskey. "Horses, or any animals in general, they aren't like us. When we kill, it can be for so many reasons, but they do it to survive and protect. So, it's good that you feel bad about it. It makes you human. It proves you're not what you think you are."

"What do you think I am?" he questioned, curiosity lacing his words.

"You're not that far off. You're not as cold as anyone, or even yourself, perceives you to be, and that's a good thing. So, let it all out today," I encouraged, understanding the weight of his burdens.

We fell into a comfortable silence, interrupted only by the clinking of glasses as he poured himself more whiskey. After a while, I nudged him with my glass.

"I don't drink much," I confessed, offering him my glass. He took it and drank, and eventually, he began to talk again.

"Is that Polly?" he asked, pointing at the doodle I had made of her. I nodded, pointing out the other family members as well.

"I drew the people I talked to today. I guess I should draw you too, huh?" I suggested, feeling a sense of warmth in our conversation. He shrugged, turning his chair to fully face me.

"Should I stay still, then, eh?" he asked playfully.

"Nope! I've already memorized your face by now," I replied without much thought, not realizing the subtle smirk that graced his lips as I began to sketch him.

"You know, I'm glad that it was your house I accidentally traveled to. Even though it was scary at first," I shared, stealing quick glances at his drenched face to capture the details in my sketch. "Anyways, you'll catch a cold if you stay like that. When I was a kid, my parents used to throw their slippers at me from inside while I played in the rain."

"What? Would you do that to me?" he asked, a hint of amusement in his voice.

Imagining the scenario, I burst into laughter. The image of me throwing slippers at Thomas in the rain seemed quite comical.

"I will if you let me."

"Maybe someday"

When I finished the sketch, I looked at it with satisfaction.

"Pogi," I murmured, using a Filipino term that meant "handsome." Though he didn't need to know that

"Pogi?" he repeated, looking at me curiously. I shook my head, realizing I had slipped into a different language.

"I said I was done," I clarified, handing him the paper with a smile. He took it, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"Thank you," he whispered, barely above a breath. We both knew that those two words held multiple meanings, and despite everything, he meant them sincerely.

#cillian murphy #peaky blinders #thomas shelby x fem!reader #x reader #cillian murphy characters #thomas shelby #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby fanfic #tommy shelby imagine

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spiritusloci · 1 year

Text

The Flash Files: Folder 04

Brought to you by The Flash Gordon Archive of Howard C. Rushbourne in collaboration with Midjourney AI & The Friends of Flash Foundation.

Jonathan Drake as Prince Barin (1994)

“The Temptation of Flash Gordon”, fan art by Salvador Dali (1946)

Behind the scenes of “Flash Gordon and the Enemy Within (1951)

Joan Crawford, guest starring as Queen Galaxia in “Flash Gordon and the Happening on Planet Mongo” (1968)

Jason Williams as Scout Gordon, (1994)

Rocketship schematic (2002)

The ill-conceived “Ice Capades Presents: Flash on Ice!” (1996)

Lizard Men comparison: 1930s, 1960s & 2020s

Janet Whitman as Dale Arden wearing the Excitmatron, "Flash Gordon versus The Moonmen” (1939)

Publicity still for “Flash Gordon versus The Flying Saucers” (1936)

#the flash files #midjourney 5 #the howard c. rushbourne archive #the friends of flash foundation #flash gordon #parody

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just-another-josh · 6 months

Text

Money

Samantha Danvers was working in her office at the Lena Luthor Foundation when the company’s namesake abruptly stormed in.

“Alright, talk.”

Sam, clearly unfazed, didn’t bother looking up from her laptop. “Hello to you too.”

Lena huffed and rolled her eyes. “Hello, Sam,” she said impatiently.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” Sam tapped a few keys, her eyes still fixed on the screen.

Lena stood rigidly with her thumbs in her suit-pant pockets, fingers beating an annoyed rhythm. “I want to know about the bet.”

Sam paused her typing; her jaw set tightly as she forced herself not to look at her boss. “What bet are you referring to?”

Lena scoffed, “Oh please, Samantha. Don’t insult my intelligence.”

Sam huffed out a defeated breath and turned to face Lena. “What did you hear?”

Lena stepped closer and placed her hands on Sam’s desk. “Since you, Kara, J’onn, and M’gann were off doing the hero thing last night, Alex, Nia, Brainy, and I went to Al’s. Halfway through the evening, Nia was updating us on the status of their house hunting and complaining about the home prices being exponentially higher the closer they got to the city. Brainy then made a very off-hand comment along the lines of ‘…if only we had won the wager…’, but before he could finish, Nia elbowed him in the ribs while your wife kicked him under the table. The rest of the night, they changed the subject anytime I brought it up.” Lena leaned in and eyed Sam with a laser-sharp gaze. “So, tell me, what were all of you wagering on and what does it have to do with me and Kara?”

Sam took on a mock-offended posture, an indignant huff pushing out of her nose. “Awfully presumptive. What makes you think…and this is not an admission…that the bet was about you and Kara?”

“Process of elimination,” Lena said, feeling insulted. “C’mon, Sam. Did you forget I am first and foremost a scientist? I asked Kara when I got home last night if she knew anything, and she said she didn’t-”

“How do you know she’s not lying?” Sam interupted, trying her damndest to hide her grin.

Lena looked at Sam in disbelief. “Because secret identity aside, when it comes to me, my girlfriend is a shit liar.”

Sam nodded. “Point conceded. Continue.”

Lena flashed Sam a smug grin. “This morning, I ran into J’onn and M’gann at the DEO and asked them about it. They suddenly remembered they had to go grocery shopping and flew out of the balcony before I could get another word in.” Sam began nervously rubbing the back of her neck. “So, add J’onn and M’gann to you and the other three idiots, with Kara and I being the only two not in on it, it stands to reason that the bet has to do with us,” Lena finished arrogantly.

Sam’s face twisted into a look of indignation. “Hey! What makes you think I’m part of this…this…conspiracy?”

A look of complete bewilderment fell over Lena’s face. Resigned, she shook her head. “If your wife’s in on it, that guarantees you’re complicit.” Lena’s stare drilled into Sam for emphasis.

The CFO deflated and shook her head. “Coluan asshat. I should throw him into the sun.” Lena’s lips twisted into a cocky smile. Sam looked at her watch and saw that it was just past four o’clock. “Fuck it. It’s five o’clock somewhere,” Sam mumbled as she motioned towards the brown couch behind Lena. “Have a seat, I’ll get the drinks.”

Lena headed towards the couch, dropping her clutch on the coffee table and unbuttoning her coat. She had no sooner sat down before a tumbler filled with scotch was in her hand courtesy of Sam and her super-speed. Sam, taking a sip from her glass, had already settled on the other side.

Lena allowed her friend to indulge in a few sips silently before throwing an expectant look at her CFO. “Waiting.”

Sam took a long draw from her drink and rolled her neck, an audible crack resulted. She let out a long breath and sank further into the couch. “The bet had to do with when you and Kara were going to hook-up.”

“Hook-up, hook-up or start dating?”

“It wasn’t specified, but we all assumed since Kara is a complete Pollyanna, the two would run parallel to each other.” Sam took a drink to hide a knowing grin.

Lena chose to ignore Sam’s veiled implication that she was more morally flexible than her girlfriend, the look on her face instead remained banal. “What were the terms.”

Sam cleared her throat and shifted into executive mode. “The over/under was six months. No minimum buy-in and you could add additional money to the pot at any point, but you couldn’t change the time period you originally bet on. The pot would be split evenly amongst the winners. People were allowed to subtly try and influence the two of you but were not allowed to blatantly interfere.”

Lena tapped her finger on her chin. “Six months…when did the bet begin?”

“At me and Alex’s wedding reception.”

Lena quickly did the math in her head; she and Kara had announced that they were a couple four months after the wedding. Lena hummed to herself but remained stone faced. “Whose idea was it?”

“Winn.” Sam said without hesitation, not feeling an ounce of remorse for throwing him under the proverbial bus. “Apparently, he watched you two have ‘an emotionally charged moment’ that convinced him your relationship was heading in the direction of more than platonic.”

“For god’s sake. We were crying and hugging. There was nothing remotely romantic about it,” Lena grumbled.

Sam raised her hands in mock surrender. “Hey, me and Alex were about to take off for Argo. I’m just quoting what he said.” Lena clenched her jaw but didn’t respond. “Whatever Winn saw encouraged him to make a beeline for Nia and Brainy and…well…the rest is history.”

Lena took a sip of her scotch before resting her elbow on the back of the couch, placing her head lightly on her fist. “So, what did the pot get up to?”

“Thirty-six grand,” Sam quietly said.

Lena abruptly sat up; her eyebrows comically raised. “Holy shit! How many people were in on this?”

Sam seemed to shrink into her seat. “A lot?” she said with a sheepish look on her face.

“Names, Samantha. I want names,” Lena ordered in a playful variation of her boardroom voice.

“Okay,” Sam grumbled in defeat. With a burst of super-speed, Sam was back on the couch with her laptop, furiously typing away.

Lena chuckled. “Of course they put you in charge of the bookkeeping.”

“Well, I am the only corporate accountant in our circle of friends…so…duh.” Sam shook her head in faux disgust. Lena remained silent while Sam tapped away at her keyboard, opting instead to take a few more sips of her drink. Before Lena had time to enjoy the satisfying burn, Sam indicated she was finished. “Ok, so, you already know about me, Alex, J’onn, M’gann, Brainy, Nia, Winn…there was Lois and Clark-”

“What?” Lena interrupted. “They don’t even like me.”

“Actually, Clark likes you a lot. He says Lois still has trust issues with you, but he suspects she has a bit of a gambling problem, so…”

Lena arched her eyebrow. “Good to know.”

Sam shrugged. “Eliza, Alura and Zor-El-”.

“Really? That seems very un-Kryptonian.” Lena interjected.

“Alex and I said the same thing when Eliza told us they were onboard, but I guess Alura jumped at the chance to throw in after Eliza broke it down for her during their weekly call.”

“Hold on, Eliza and Alura talk every week?” Lena said, a hint of trepidation in her voice.

“Yup,” Sam said with a pop. She smiled diabolically. “Good luck with that.”

Lena gave an imperceptible nod as she started fidgeting with her glass; distracted by the implications of a weekly discussion between Kara’s “moms”.

“Where was I?” Sam mumbled as she scanned for where she left off. “Ah, there we are. Jess, Cat Grant, Andre-”.

“That zrhykhig!” Lena blurted out. “That’s why she’s been throwing herself at me like a bitch in heat since the wedding.” Her anger continued to swell as pieces of the puzzle fell into place. “She took the over, didn’t she? Of course, she did. I don’t even know why I’m asking. I’m sure she thought the best way to keep me and Kara apart was to con me into fucking her.” Waves of violet energy began cascading over Lena’s hands. “Swear to Rao I’m going to find a spell that’ll undo the nose job she got for her sweet-sixteen.”

Sam looked up from her laptop nervously. “Whoa, slow down there, Elphaba. There’s no need to mutilate her face.” Sam fixed Lena with a disapproving glare that seemed to calm her down; the magic arcing over her hands dissipated. “To answer your question, yes, she took the over. Now, are you going to stop interrupting me so I can get through this list?”

“No, I’m not,” Lena said defiantly.

“Worth a shot,” Sam mumbled to herself. “Next, we have Barry and Iris West-Allen-” Sam shot a hand up to stop Lena before she interrupted. “Yes, I know you just met them a month ago at his birthday party. Just a heads up, the rest of this list is comprised of people you first met at said party, but please bear in mind they’ve all known Kara for years.”

Lena closed her mouth and mimicked zipping her lips shut.

“Thank you.” Sam nodded, momentarily relieved. “As I was saying, Barry and Iris, Ray and Nora Palmer, Sara and Ava Lance-”.

“Wait, Sara Lance?” Lena threw a knowing smile at her friend.

“Yes.”

“White Canary?”

“Yes.”

“Wasn’t she the one that…”

“Yes.”

“With Alex…”

“Yes.”

“The one you threatened to…”

“Yes! Can we please stop talking about the woman my wife had a one-night stand with?”

Lena snorted several times as she tried to contain her laughter.

Sam, fuming, returned her attention to the list. “Cisco Ramon, Caitlin Snow, Mick Rory-”

“The big guy that sat in the corner, finished off two cases of beer, and spent the entire night grunting at everyone?” Lena asked with a puzzled look on her face.

“That’s the one.” Sam perked up. “And finally…Kate Kane.”

Sam swore she heard Lena growl. “The short-haired brunette that was all sauced up and kept getting handsy with Kara?”

“Yes. Most people just call her Kate…or Batwoman.” Sam could see a vein beginning to protrude from Lena’s forehead. “For the sake of context, she started flirting with Kara after placing her wager. I think she was pulling the same move as Andrea.” Sam reached across the couch and patted Lena’s knee reassuringly. “So, maybe don’t go all Jigsaw on her?” Sam appealed.

Lena’s posture softened, but she seemed to somehow look both perplexed and astonished at the same time. “I just don’t understand how all these people, that I’ve spent a grand total of less than two hours with, felt confident enough to wager on when Kara and I would get together.”

“Pretty simple, really. They spent more than five minutes in the same room with you two,” Sam plainly stated.

Lena leveled Sam with a look of utter confusion. “What is that supposed to mean?”

Sam’s mouth fell agape, absolutely stunned. “Oh, honey. You two were the paragons of sexual tension. Anyone with eyes could see it plain as day. You should have seen all the confused looks I got from people when I told them you two weren’t dating.”

I light dusting of pink spread across Lena’s face, and she fondly smiled. “Paragons of sexual tension?” After a moment of consideration, she conceded, “Accurate.”

Sam let Lena stew in her embarrassment a few moments longer, taking great pleasure in watching her oldest friend squirm. Using her super-speed, she refilled their drinks, and, clearly out of patience, burst out, “So are you going to ask me, or what?” Lena titled her head questioningly. Sam sighed out of sheer frustration. “Don’t you want to know who won?!?”

Lena startled and nodded emphatically. “Yes, of course, yes. Please, tell me.”

“There were only three winners. Eliza, Jess, and…me.” Sam smiled pompously while doing a celebratory jig.

Lena, looking completely unsurprised, grinned warmly. “Eliza…no shock there. That woman can read her daughters like an open book. Jess…well I guess you could say she had a front row seat from day one.” She paused as she reminisced. A tender smile spread across her face; she focused on Sam with a curious glint in her eyes. “So, how did you know?”

Sam, pretending to take offense, gasped. “Aside from years of watching you two longingly eye-fuck each other?”

Lena snorted into her glass as she tried to take a drink, inadvertently causing some of the liquid to splash on her face. A deep blush settled over her cheeks as she wiped at her now damp face. “Yes, aside from that,” she said through a coughing chuckle.

Sam’s grin at Lena’s antics was slowly replaced by a look of melancholy. She methodically swirled the contents of her tumbler, seemingly transfixed by it. “Honestly, everything came into focus while you two were fighting.” Lena abruptly stopped her efforts to dry her face, instead focusing on Sam with a forlorn look on her face. “That year you spent apart…I watched you both flounder; you were both just going through the motions…lost. Neither one of you was whole. As cliché as it sounds, you two really are stronger together; El Mayarah in the flesh.” Sam paused to take a drink. Lena’s eyes became glassy, a slight tremor in her hands barely visible. “When it happened, I remember thinking about everything you two had accomplished together: you sent the Daxamites packing, beat Reign and saved me, stopped Lex and Red Daughter from basically taking control of the country…and handled all the other little disasters in-between. When you two finally reconciled you were able to prevent Leviathan from taking over the world and then stopped Lex from killing two-thirds of the population on Earth; and that was before you two had had a chance to work through your shit.” Sam grew more passionate as she continued, “To this day, I firmly believe that if we would’ve beat your fuckhead brother before he trapped Kara in the Phantom Zone, you two would’ve been married by now.” Lena tilted her head and lightly shrugged, silently recognizing the possibility. “I felt the same way when we got her back from that hellhole, but then Nyxly was there and threw a wrench into everything; Lex rearing his ugly bald head again was just the cherry on top.”

Lena let out a frustrated sigh as she reflected on that tumultuous time in their lives. A modicum of tears rolled down her cheeks as her body reacted viscerally to the unpleasant memories.

“Shit, I’m sorry…I didn’t mean to upset you…I promise there is a point to this walk down nightmare lane,” Sam said as she reached across the couch and placed her hand over Lena’s to reassure her; Lena lightly patted the top of Sam’s hand in acknowledgement of the tender gesture. “What I’m trying to point out is that the reason you two didn’t get together after you reconciled was not by choice. It wasn’t about missed opportunities; it was the fact that you two never got a chance to breathe long enough to explore how you felt about each other. I knew with absolute certainty that once things died down, you two would end up getting that opportunity. So, when Nyxly and Lex fucked-off to the Phantom Zone, I had the utmost faith that you two would be swapping spit, and other bodily fluids, in very short order,” Sam flashed a brilliant, mischievous smile. “Hence, why I took the under.”

Lena grinned through her tears, and squeezing Sam’s hand she quietly said, “Thank you for never losing faith in me…in us.”

Sam scooped Lena into a tight hug, her chin rested over Lena’s shoulder. “Oh, sweetie. I love you and Kara so much. All I’ve ever wanted for you two is to be happy…well, together, and happy.”

They squeezed each other tighter, giggling into each other’s shoulders.

“I think we need to switch to a lighter topic,” Sam said through a choked-up laugh.

They broke up their hug, both futilely trying to save their mascara as they wiped the tears from their eyes. “I totally agree. Did you have something in mind?” Lena managed to sniffle out.

“Actually, I do.” There was a hint of nervousness in Sam’s voice. Lena picked up on it and noticed that her friend was fidgeting with her hands.

Lena scoffed, “Oh, Christ. Now what?”

Sam anxiously cleared her throat. “Weeelll, there might be one more wager that hasn’t been settled yet.” Sam did her best to avoid looking at Lena, instead focusing on her suddenly very interesting hands.

Lena’s eyebrow rose ever-so-slightly. “This should be good,” she deadpanned.

“So, after it was confirmed you two were officially dating, a second bet was made on who made the first move,” Sam said hesitantly.

Lena was a picture of stoicism. “I see. And what’s the pot on this one?”

“Forty-five thousand.”

Lena’s eyebrows shot up. “For fuck’s sake, Sam. It’s been a week since we told everyone!”

Sam embarrassedly smiled. “Yeah, a lot of people are trying to recoup their losses.”

“I feel like there’s a teachable moment regarding the evils of gambling somewhere in there, but…,” Lena drifted off, clearly indifferent to their plight. She leveled an inquisitive look at Sam. “So, Mrs. Danvers, which pony did you back?”

Sam slammed back the remainder of her drink and placed the empty tumbler on the coffee table. She timidly met Lena’s eyes and weakly smiled. “Kara.”

Lena’s brows furrowed at Sam’s admission. She let her CFO suffer through a dramatically awkward silence before responding, “Et tu, Brute?”

Sam shrugged. “Lena, I mean this with all due respect, but you are the very definition of ‘useless lesbian’.”

“Useless bisexual,” Lena quickly corrected.

“Oh, please. Jack and James were total beards!” Sam cackled.

Lena’s eyes narrowed as she glared at Sam in reproach. “No comment,” she said sternly.

Sam was now laughing so hard her side hurt. Lena took a heavy swallow of her drink and regarded her friend with an icy stare.

Her impatience building, Lena opted to change the subject. “Speaking of James, I noticed he wasn’t on the list of participants.”

Sam took a minute to regain her composure and even out her breathing. “He felt it would be inappropriate to wager on when his ‘ex-girlfriends’ would hook-up.”

“What does he mean, ‘ex-girlfriends’? Kara never even went on a date with him. They kissed twice…the first time he was being controlled by Myriad.” Lena was clearly appalled.

A look of shock climbed across Sam’s face. “Shut the fuck up! I never knew that…oh my god, Alex doesn’t even know about that!”

“I can’t believe I slept with that narcissistic prick.” Lena snorted angrily at the memory.

Sam loudly clapped her hands, breaking Lena’s reverie. “Well, I’m glad we could clear that up. Now, fess up. Who jumped first?”

Lena remained silent and studied Sam for a moment, the CFO was practically bouncing in her seat in anticipation. After what seemed like an eternity (to Sam at least), Lena slammed back the remainder of her scotch and set the empty tumbler on the coffee table. A devious grin on her lips, Lena stood and began fastening the buttons on her jacket. “Thank you for the drink and for the conversation. It was rather stimulating.” Lena retrieved her discarded clutch from the table and moved to exit Sam’s office.

Sam quickly realized that Lena was going to leave her hanging and sprung to her feet. “Oh, hell no! You’re not flaking out on me now, Luthor!”

Lena didn’t slow her pace. “I’ll see you at Game Night on Friday. Don’t forget, you and Alex are on snack duty this week.”

Sam used her super-speed to position herself between Lena and her office door. “Please, Lena! Just tell me. Alex bet on you, so it doesn’t matter who made the first move, I win either way,” Sam grabbed Lena by the arms. “C’mon Lena, Alex and I could use the money to do that add-on to the house and take the trip to Aruba we’ve been talking about for years.”

“Oh please, you just got back from honeymooning on Argo.”

“Yeah, but that was four months ago…and Argo doesn’t have crystal blue waters…and sandy beaches…and clear, sunny skies…and…and drinks with little umbrellas in them…” Sam was pleading, well, more begging at this point.

Lena gave Sam a piteous smile, cupped Sam’s cheek, leaned in, and placed a chaste kiss on her cheek. “Love you, sweetie.” She separated from Sam’s grip and exited through the office door. Sam helplessly watched as Lena disappeared behind the shutting door.

“Fuck!” she bellowed into the empty office. Sam rushed over to her desk and retrieved her phone, quickly bringing up her wife’s contact.

MyBrownEyedGirl: The jig is up! Boss Lady was just here. She knows everything!

BigRed: Fuck! I knew Brainy shit the bed last night. What did you tell her?

MyBrownEyedGirl: EVERYTHING!!!

BigRed: Oh.

BigRed: Wow.

BigRed: How’d she handle it?

MyBrownEyedGirl: Typical Lena.

BigRed: Shocker.

BigRed: Did you ask about the other thing?

MyBrownEyedGirl: YUP

BigRed: AND???

MyBrownEyedGirl: Typical Luthor.

BigRed: Again, shocker. Plan B: I’ll load Kara up on potstickers, ice cream, and Aldebaran Rum. I guarantee she’ll talk when I’m done with her.

BigRed: Don’t worry, baby. We’re getting that new rec room AND our trip.

MyBrownEyedGirl: Have I ever told you how sexy you are when you throw around all that Big Dick Energy?

BigRed: Yes, but you can remind me again tonight.

MyBrownEyedGirl: With pleasure. Rubes is staying at her friend’s house tonight. I’ll get out the big strap.

BigRed: Fuck, I love you!!!!

MyBrownEyedGirl: Love you too, red.

MyBrownEyedGirl: Oh, one more thing. I need a favor from you.

BigRed: Name it.

MyBrownEyedGirl: Please remind me to call Nia and tell her she needs to find a new baby-daddy, because I’m going to throw Brainy’s dumb-ass into the sun!!!

#supercorp #supercorptober2023 #lena luthor #agentreign #samantha arias #gambling #kara danvers

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seoksgrl · 3 months

Text

rather be dead than cool, 2. : jjk nerd!jungkook x popular!reader college au, dislike to love genderbent she's all that au

tws: rich antics, irene and mina being mean girls, name-calling

m.list prev | next

The address you texted to Jeongguk, after obtaining his mobile number, is in the centre of Gangnam, a street lined with row upon row of stores fit for those who have cash to burn. If you’re going to get Jeon towards your end of the popularity spectrum, it’s imperative that you get him out of whatever baggy, dark outfit he plans to turn up in today. Once the clothes are dealt with, you can work on that shaggy mop of hair before figuring out how to introduce him to your scene.

That will likely be the easier part - once Jeon is seen with you, campus interest will soar.

“How are things going?” Irene coos down the phone, an edge to her tone that often came when the two of you would play these kinds of games. Finding ways to one up the other, whether it be over boys or over money. While Irene is the friend you have known the longest, you can’t say she’s the one you trust. Though, your competitive streaks have always run alongside each other, the perfect match.

You check your appearance in the store window, the first place you’re expecting to visit with Jeongguk. There’s a party this weekend at an old friend’s cabin, and if you’re going to bring Jeongguk, he needs to wear something that will enhance the foundations you managed to spot upon your first meeting. Brushing your hair over your shoulder, you reapply lip balm, using the window as your mirror, “Things are going according to plan. Jeon isn’t anything I can’t handle,”

Irene hums on the other end of the phone, though it’s anything but encouraging, “As long as you don’t plan on throwing in the towel before we’ve even started,”

“Not at all,” You grin at your own reflection, “He’ll be walking into the spring formal with all eyes on him when I’m finished. And I’ll take a ride in the Porsche as a reward,”

You can see it now, Irene’s eyes flashing with annoyance at your confidence. You often wonder if pissing off your best friend should bring you this much joy, but before you can ponder any longer, a familiar dark frame comes into sight down the street, skulking through the people on the sidewalk, and you end the call with Irene as your eyes land on Jeongguk.

He’s dressed in what appears to be his favourite colour, black, paint-stained jeans and an oversized t-shirt. All that covers him from the unpredictable spring weather is a thin, denim jacket - also paint-stained. You wonder if it’s intentional.

He stops in front of you, large frame so imposing you have to take a small step back, your Gucci boots hardly a match for Jeongguk’s height. Your head tilts, eyes meeting his own weary gaze before you flash him your winning smile.

“I’m glad you got here in one piece,” You hadn’t asked if Jeongguk drives, but you assume he must, having walked from the direction of the parking lot behind the row of designer stores, “I hope it was easy for you to find,”

He frowns at that, shuffling from foot to foot and adjusting his backpack a couple times. The wind has already managed to wriggle some fly-away hairs loose from whatever excuse for a ponytail he has, the strands falling around his face and brushing his chin. You cannot wait to get a few inches chopped - the length doesn’t bother you, but you can spot the split ends from here, for goodness sake.

Jeongguk doesn’t reply, and so you press on, still wearing the bright, chirpy grin you save for meeting new people. You always like to make a good first impression, and you remember it being one of the few things your parents instilled in you as a child. Your other habits were picked up from movies, being that you rarely had time to do anything else as a youngster. Father was never home and when mother wasn’t shopping, she was organising charity events for your father and his work colleagues.

You shake away the oddly sombre memory and continue with the task at hand, leading Jeongguk into the first store - Gucci itself.

“We’ll start here,” You say, maintaining control as you lead Jeongguk further into the store, towards where the men’s shirts and slacks are kept, “I have an appointment booked for your hair,”

Out of the corner of your eye, you notice Jeongguk reach up and tug at the strands by his chin, brushing them behind his reddened ear. You continue to talk him through the itinerary for the day, though his pleading eyes continue to drill into the side of your head, and you have no choice but to turn, brow quirked, “What’s wrong?”

“I, ah -” He clears his throat, “I can’t afford anything here,”

You wave away Jeongguk’s worries, exhaling a short laugh, “I can take care of it. I have more than enough money, and plenty of good friendships with the staff. You can use my black card,”

“Black card?” He asks, dark brows furrowing, creating a tiny wrinkle between them, “Is that like store credit?”

You exhale again, but this time you’re not laughing. You realise not everyone pays for their tuition into Yonsei, and you’re just now realising perhaps Jeongguk is there on a scholarship. That would mean he’s very talented, something that intrigues you, though you don’t have time to be intrigued by your science experiment.

“It’s a luxury credit card, Jeon,” You blink, “My family is very wealthy, and like I said,” You flip your hair over your shoulder, “I want to help,”

Not completely the truth, but Jeongguk doesn’t need to know that.

His lips part for a couple moments, before falling shut, and you continue walking with him towards the Oxford shirts. The sales assistant, eager and a little annoying, strolls over, their brows raising a fraction when they spot the tall, out-of-place guy beside you. Their lips part, their welcoming disposition betrayed by the obvious judgement in their gaze before their eyes slide back to you.

“Miss Y/N, so lovely to have you back,” The young girl says, hands clasp in front of her, bright pink nails start against the black of her uniform as her eyes once more stray to Jeongguk, confusion marring her strictly sunny expression, “How can we help you today?”

You step forward, gesturing at Jeongguk with one hand and sliding a thumb across your phone screen with another. You had spent last night brainstorming the optimum stylistic direction to take with Jeongguk, wanting to enhance what good features he has in order to make his transformation believable. He still has to win Spring King, after all, and to do that, he needs to look and act the part. Turning up in head-to-toe designer the day after wearing his paint stained baggy jeans isn’t gonna work.

“My friend is looking for a few staple capsule pieces to add to his wardrobe,” You say, walking further into the store, followed closely by the assistant, and then Jeongguk who lags behind, looking entirely like a fish out of water, “Nothing too flashy, just several timeless pieces to get him started. He’s new to designer,”

The shop assistant makes a noise as if to say yeah, I can tell and you raise your brows expectantly, watching as she stumbles over her words, rushing towards the back of the store where the men’s shirts are displayed neatly, “O-of course, miss. Absolutely,”

When you turn, Jeongguk is watching the whole exchange with curiosity and a little disbelief, his brows are drawn together, eyes impossibly brown and impossibly wide. You pause in your step, raising a manicured eyebrow in response, “Do you have something to say?”

“Does everyone always do as you tell them to?”

You smile, “Yes, now come on,” clicking your fingers, you turn and walk to where the assistant is waiting for you, not bothering to turn to check if Jeongguk is following.

He is.

Irene smacks her lips as she reapplies her lipgloss, using the mirrored wall in the new sushi restaurant, Stix, to see her reflection. You watch her fluff up her hair, wiping at the corner of her mouth, and you decide to check over your own appearance.

As expected, it’s flawless. You always apply a lip tint if you know you’re going to be eating, saving you the time of reapplying. Your mother always told you that was rude, and so the habit has stuck. The urge to make a dig at Irene raises it’s ugly head, but you successfully shut it down. After all, you’d hate to make a fuss, and to embarrass your friend.

“Have you played with your little lab rat yet?” Irene asks, grinning as she turns away from the mirror, putting her lip gloss back in her purse and pulling out her compact. Her makeup is flawless, but you don’t say anything as she begins to touch up her already perfect skin.

“I took him shopping a couple days ago,” Mina snickers, and you shrug, continuing, “I didn’t have a lot to work with, new clothes were imperative if I want to recreate his image,”

Irene giggles, “Sounds like you had fun dressing up your little pet project,”

“It was a means to an end. The shirts were basic, Jeongguk didn’t want to branch out,” In fact, he didn’t take any of your fashion advice beyond pointing out what he would need from around the store. He picked up a few white t-shirts, white button-ups and some black slacks. You had to practically force him to get the shoes you suggested, if only to prevent him from wearing Gucci dress pants with his sneakers.

You can safely say you’ve never met someone so stubborn.

“Are you gonna bring him to Jimin’s party on Saturday?” Mina asks, wiggling her brows as if the mere idea is mischievous, “He could be your date,”

Irene let out a yelp of laughter, and Mina joins in, the pair of them cackling like two evil witches. You watch them with a vague sense of annoyance, a familiar flare of stubbornness coming to life in your chest as you remain stone-faced, waiting for their laughter to die down. When it does, it peters out, their eyes shifting between you and each other as the silence grows.

“Y/N, did you hear Mina’s joke?”

“I did,” You smile, cat-like and confident, “I didn’t get the joke. I mean, Jeongguk’s reputation is about to be improved tenfold. Why not let people think he’s my date?”

Mina gasps and Irene’s plucked brows raise in a look of abject horror, she actually puts a hand on her chest as if she has been scandalised by your question. You can hardly see the problem with it - after all, it was your understanding that in order to ensure you winning the bet, the whole thing would end with you and Jeongguk attending the Spring formal together anyway. It makes sense in your head.

“Y/N, you can’t be serious,” Irene says, snorting, “bringing that loser to Jimin’s party? You two just broke up, Jimin will think you have gone insane,”

You frown, taking a sip of water, “I’m not sure about that. Nobody knows who Jeongguk is, and once I’ve got him styled appropriately, people will just assume he’s a random hot guy I’ve picked up. If Jimin can be a cliche and score a cheerleader, why not be a little mysterious?”

Irene mutters, "I don't know about 'hot',"

You smile, brittle and a little annoyed, "He will be when I'm finished with him. Have some faith, Irene,"

When you glance at Mina, she seems to be grasping where you’re coming from, but as per usual, Irene doesn’t see your side of things, and she rolls her eyes, returning to her useless endeavour to fix problems that don’t exist with her makeup. You smile blandly at Mina, sipping at your water and scrolling through your socials.

taglist: @kyglover @jk97bam

please let me know if you wish to be added to the taglist!

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being-addie · 1 year

Text

Online aesthetics and the effects of social media trends

Let's talk about this.

How it can affect young teenagers

Open Tiktok or Instagram and everything on my For You Page now shows "How to achieve a Clean Girl Aesthetic"', "Old Money Aesthetic Hairstyles", "Cottagecore Hobbies", "How to be a Femme Fatale"

It never ends. Trends keep popping up left and right and it's inescapable.

As a young, impressionable teenager, I was, of course, naturally going to be influenced by these ever-changing trends. I'd constantly change my room aesthetic, buy new clothes, and I was never satisfied with my appearance. Why? Because I didn't look like the girls on screen.

News flash. You're never going to look like them. All that content they produce which gets 100k likes is done with excessive attention to detail, expensive lighting and sound equipment, and top-notch editing software. OF COURSE, you can't look like that. It's completely manufactured. It's heartbreaking to see young girls develop body image issues because of the constant bombarding of these "aesthetics" which are basically different beauty standards and stereotypes all wrapped up in a neat little package that is labelled "personality and style". I don't have anything against the concepts of aesthetics. I love how Dark and Light Academia is centred around learning, and how Cottagecore is all about relaxation and not conforming to being part of a 9-5 and just living life. I like how the Clean Girl is focused on being healthy and productive. What I don't like is how all these healthy things, which normal functioning humans should be doing are now turned into "trends" and you must "choose" between them.

Why it's so harmful

Fashion: Since aesthetics keep changing, you're going to find multiple that appeal to you. What happens when you discover you really like cottagecore, but your closet is filled with dark academia tweed? You turn to fast fashion. It's cheap and stylish. But it's horrible for the environment and that floral dress you're wearing was made by a woman in a sweatshop in Bangladesh, while fashion giants like Shein pocket the money.

Makeup: It's always there. Always. You cannot find a "how-to" post regarding aesthetics and makeup is not included. Its always how much blush to apply, why mascara is your best friend, blah blah blah. You know what I want to see? An aesthetic which promotes a clean, fresh face. I do wear makeup, not saying I'm perfect(yes, I wear lip tint and sometimes eyeliner), but it's the ridiculous notion that there's a specific makeup look for each aesthetic, and they say it's not very heavy, but really is concealer, foundation, blush, mascara and lipgloss light makeup?

Other: Then comes the things you should own, the bags, the shoes, the jewellery, the house decor. Did you notice to achieve the look, we're spending money bit by bit? Then you don't even realise it's made a dent in your savings.

Mentality: I hate this part about aesthetics so much. A while ago, I was really interested in Dark Academia and how it was centred around learning and studying. But everything was gloomy and dark and said I should be tired and bitter to achieve this. I'm not a serious person by nature in the first place, but here were blogs telling me to be "mysterious" and how I should be getting only 4 hours of sleep to be true Dark Academia? What is this dystopia? There's this weird obsession with how someone should behave if they like an aesthetic.

Online trends are all consumerism based. It's all to get you to blow your money on things that don't even benefit you.

There's a reason I never include and never will include tags like #clean girl or #pink pilates princess in my posts because it sort of reduces you to a certain aspect. Why confine yourself to these barriers? Wear what you want. Read what you like. The one "aesthetic" I believe in, is "that girl" which in reality is different for everyone, but boils down to being educated, well-mannered, and considerate. I will make a post on this. Being educated and kind is such a flex, not wearing one flowy white dress and "thinking" you're in a meadow. Break out of the pattern of being influenced by algorithms. Don't restrict your identity because of FOMO and the urge to be trendy. You've got this.

#self care #self improvement #self love #level up #level up journey #self love journey #glow up #college #tips and tricks #it girl #that girl #perfect #life #online aesthetics #online #social media #aesthetics

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