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#(i think one of my friends would like to put me in this category but i would like to remind her that i am not That Bad)
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I have a big google doc thing where I keep track of media and stuff (putting everything in loosely ranked categories), which is mostly just for my own reference so I know what tv shows I've already seen before, etc. and I never really look back through it, typically just a quick "okay, watched two movie in the past 8 months, need to quickly slap them somewhere in the lists. okay. done. save document. exit". But today I was actually reading through some of the old notes and there are like... MULTIPLE places where my comment is basically "It would have been good if it were about elves" or "I wish there was a fantasy show made in this same style" or "It's well made, but I just keep thinking about how I would like it more if everyone was an elf or was in old 1700s costumes" or etc like...... lol.... Most biased media ranking system on earth blatantly made by someone with an extremely hyperspecific range of narrow interests. It'd be like if a food reviewer only had 5 foods they actually liked, so they'd just go to a pizza place and be like "eh, the pizza was okay, but I just think it would be better if it was cereal instead. :/ ...2 out of 10"
#Which.. I mean... I am allowed to be biased because literally it's just for my own personal reference (or occasionall#y to send to friends or something if we're discussing the topic) so like.. nowhere am I saying 'I am the god of perfect taste and these#rankings are objectively the absolute truth and everyone should have my same opinion' or anything#BUT still.. it's funny to me sometimes#'Succession would be 100x better if it had the same cast/character quirks and shaky camera style and#acting choices/weird dialogue and general concept etc. EXCEPT it takes place within an elven noble family or something#managing the family business and everyone is in fantasy costumes now'' like.....okay...... but it's NOT that way..soo... thats not the show#''I like the acting style/general tone of Fleabag but i don't care for any of the characters or any of the subject matter and I wish it was#set in the 1800s and had vampires and was about magic instead'' okay..... again... you are making up an entirely new show in that case lol#OR my other beloved typical complaint ''The concept is good but theres too much plot and action and not enough people just sitting#around doing nothing and exposition dumping world and character lore'' ''this needs more goofy sideplots and filler episodes''#''this Drama was too dramatic I think it should be more lighthearted & people need to sit around doing nothing just being weird more often'#''the Action Movie was ok except for the action scenes - which I skipped through all of- but I liked the costumes and worldbuilding'' etc.#ERM sorry your plot has too much plot. also elves have to be included somehow. bye#BUT SERIOUSLY!!!!!! I literally genuinely believe that any show I like (or even dislike) could ALWAYS be improved greatly by#putting people in fantasy or historical costume/setting/etc... why the FUNK would I want to see bland jeans and cars and cell phones#when I could see elaborate velvet cloaks and fantastical landscapes and interior design and innovative takes on historical or#magical technology or etc. etc. etc. I LIVE in the modern day. I see it all the time!!! BORING! stinky!! boo!!!#ANYWAY... another social divide for me.. People love to bond by discussing media. which is hard when I'm like#'I literally will not watch something at all unless it fits into one of these 10 extremely specific categories which are all i care about i#the entire world''.. I say this and yet I still dislike most fantasy or historical things I've watched lol. ok TWO main criteria then!!#it must 1. be in a different world or time period. 2. be goofy silly. Nothing ever has BOTH. It's always overly serious boring drama action#fantasy/history stuff OR it's comedic lighthearted but with modern day characters... WHY.. anguish and woe and so on..#ANYWAY jhjnk... at least I can make that divide. Some people seem to project their own personal preferences and get really emotionally#defensive if you say you didn't like something - as if the fact that they DO like it is some Objective Truth or something rather than just#opinion/preference based. I can still easily say ''this is well made/well written/acted/good in a technical sense/has a lot of#points of appeal that most people would be drawn to/etc'' and admit that it's a GOOD show probably. I just PERSONALLY think its#bad because my tastes are very narrow. Some things ARE actually made badly but. things are not bad INHERENTLY just bc they dont suit ME lol#Better to recognize/accept whats odd about you and be peacefully aware of it than just being mad at everyone all the time for not fully#agreeing with you even when you're the one with the Weird opinion in that case lol.. I am right though :3 but.. lol... still. i get it
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bilbao-song · 8 months
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woke up to a jeff lynne fan talking crap about bob dylan on one of my posts
not even in a satire way
then looked at their blog and found that they know basically absolutely nothing about elo except surface level things
so it was a swift block from me
this has been a morning. that’s for sure
that’s illegal!!!!!! where’s the post
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mostbrilliantidiot · 3 months
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Listen. Modern AU RDR2 may not be my cup of tea but I need all y'all who do enjoy it to get one thing right:
Not one single member of that gang would be a good or safe driver. Not one. No, not even the one you're thinking might be a reasonable person behind the wheel.
They wouldn't.
There would be speeding, reckless driving, lack of seat belts, distracted driving, road rage, no turn signal, etc.
Absolute nightmares on the road.
Would some be better than others?
Sure.
But that wouldn't make them a good driver overall.
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yuridovewing · 10 months
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Feel like one of the best ways you can convince someone that no, villains with compelling motives that have sad backstories are not terrible writing compared to straight up born evil villains who just want to kill everyone and be done with it, is to tell them that Warrior Cats writes born evil villains constantly while literally preaching “That’s how evil works, you can’t CHANGE, you’re either touched by demons at birth or you aren’t!” and it blows chunks
#brokenstar tigerstar hawkfrost darktail one eye etc etc would all be so much more interesting if they werent so one note#and just had ‘’born evil’’ slapped on as their explanation for being evil#‘’ew why are you woobifying tigerstar’’ because i think a villain who feels emotion besides ‘’evil’’ and ‘’angry’’ and actually does care#about his clanmates but is also a bigot that deserves to be beaten down is more interesting than canon#to get like real world political here… abusive people and bigots like. are not one note born evil demons#they have loved ones and reasons for turning out the way they did. and im not saying that to go ‘’so you need to give them grace!’’#im saying that because the line of thinking that every bad person is a super obvious mustache twirling villain with no soul#makes it so that people justify abuse and crimes from REAL people. like ‘’oh my friend says some racist things but he isnt BAD! he loves me!#would an abusive person be nice to his wife in public? of course not!’’#and its rhetoric like that that lets abuse and bigotry thrive. if you put the world in categories of born evil and born good#then you will dismiss all the ‘’good’’ people in your life who have done horrible things with ‘’but she donated to charity once’’#i mean. hell this LITERALLY happens in wc where the ‘’born good’’ characters are abusive and murderously xenophobic#where characters like clear sky and blackstar just get a sticker like ‘’oh you cant be TOO mad at them! theyre good at heart!’’#‘’ignore all the times they killed vulnerable people for the crime of being born somewhere they didnt like! they were nice to a kid once!’’#the message there is literally ‘’bad people cant REALLY be bad if theyre nice to people sometimes’’#like. im not even mad at clear sky being motivated by witnessing his loved ones starve to death for why hes such an abusive control freak#thats an interesting reason to become a villain especially since the change happened when he was put in a position of power#the problem is not him having a sad backstory. the problem is the erins think his sad backstory means he was never that bad#and anyone who’s upset at him can go eat shit and die cause he looked sad#like. i get this line of thinking often comes from writers doing this for abuse apologism and just wanting to see abusers be held accountabl#accountable#but how exactly does it help victims of abuse to portray abusers and bigots in a christian ‘’touched by the devil’’ light
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oatbugs · 1 year
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AUGHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
#waiting for smn is soooo#idk#idk how to feel what to think#anyway asked my friends for advice on it#they were all like u should have a convo abt it. bc like#emotional support is important in a relationship and receiving none of it is bad#like how come we r both having a tough time and yet so far i was like aw theyre having a horrible time theyre dealing w#depression thats why they cant support me :(( like.#im also having a tough time dealing w depression and ive been there 4 them consistently !!! and im sorry but like when i was horribly#depressed like 10x worse than this yrs ago i remember i still did my best to be there for whoever i was dating at the time#but rn its so one sided like im excusing a complete lack of emotional support under the category of mental health stuff#and even tho i told myself it was an explanation not an excuse it was in fact both. it was def an excuse#depression can make it hard for u to be there for others but when theyre ur partner and ur best friend and u cant even respond#to them stating how they feel properly that is bad !! viewing them telling u their current emotion or feeling bc thats what the topic is#as ~putting stuff on you randomly~ is bad!!#like fr whenever i feel sad i have to eat up my feelings and cry on my.own bc im afraid theyre not going to respond well to me telling them#that. its not like i vent or anything either (w/o asking. but i dont even do that) its just#UGHHH IDK#anyway ive been avoiding this convo w them for a while bc i have been trying to be patient and just. wait for them to get better#and maybe someday they would be there for me!! maybe my friends r all the emotional support i need if i feel so bad that i cant keep it in!#but its just not fair on me i think. ive been feeling shit too!!! i forgot that i existed#until i finally told my friends abt it and they were like. relationships r a two way street etc etc#anyway yh#idk how this will go x#taking some time away to collect my thoughts n so are they so
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thebibliosphere · 9 months
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I was already on a hair trigger today trying not to snap at a mutual for reblogging a "fuck authors who use Amazon" post, but, like, this shit is why some authors can only afford to use Amazon.
They don't have the $75+ to distribute through Ingram Spark. They don't have the $25 it takes to change your files if you need to update them after they've been accepted. They can't afford to take the cost of printing hit to their sales. They can't afford to lose an additional 40% of their income to retailer discounts.
And just so we're clear, Ingram isn't a vanity publisher. They're one of the largest print monopolies in the world. They're used by most mainstream traditional publishers and indie and self-pub authors alike. Amazon uses them when their print demand is too high.
My friend, whose work is published by Gollancz, is printed through Ingram, the same as mine. The difference is their publisher takes the hit for them. In theory. We won't get into dwindling advances here or how publishers are increasingly putting the onus of marketing and sales onto their authors or the fact that their editors can't afford rent or food while the executives get richer and richer.
So what do you do when the mainstream doesn't want you? What do you do when you're told if you can't keep up with the rat race, that you don't deserve to have your work published? What do you do if all you have is the ability to tell stories for a living, and no one wants you?
Well, you could die of starvation. I'm sure there are several people on here who'd be happy if that happened to me. (I know. Because they tell me. Often.) Or, you can shake hands with the devil, knowing it's a bum deal, knowing everything is fucked, but also knowing that every other aspect of this fucking industry is just as fucking bad.
There's no escape. It's relentless.
And you've got people out there posting things like, "Actually, I think authors who charge for their books are part of the problem."
And yeah, in an ideal world, I'd be making art for art's sake.
But we're not in that world. We're in the bad place, and you're actively making it worse. You're encouraging people to steal from people who are struggling just like you and calling it activism against billionaires or putting them in the same moral category as said billionaires as though we're not trapped in this system, same as you. Some of you are fellow fucking authors. And, like, my mind boggles at what it would take to stab a fellow creative in the back like that, but here we are.
Hell world.
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bitchlessdino · 3 months
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Reckless (m)
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Pairing: adult actor!mingyu x pervert afab!reader Genre: smut Word count: 4.8k tags: camboy!mingyu, established friendship, banter, brat!reader, glass toys, invasion of privacy, rough play, anal, double penetration, degradation (pervert, slut), choking, spanking, spitting, oral (giving and receiving), swallowing, hair pulling, deep throating Summary: Mingyu is a camboy and proud of it, as he should. Finally, he's getting the applause he deserves for his work and will be attending one of the biggest adult industry events to date. He just needs you to watch over while his house while he's gone. Easy enough, right? Unbeknownst to him, you happened to be a fan. A big one. One so big that you cant help but take advantage what Mingyu fans have only ever dreamed of. author note: finally the awaited winner, camboy!mingyu! still so crazy he won over multiple reverse harems on the poll. tagging my wife @wongyuseokie because it's her birthday and deserves to wake up with some NASTY mingyu smut. thank you @highvern for beta-reading to better this fic and like both of us are saying, mingyu is a fucking freakkk in this so enjoy my babies.
Tag: @shiningstar-byulxx @misssugarlips @tommolex @hoeforhao @dkakapizzaboy @junhui-recs @svtup @buffhoshi @meowmeowminnie @caratochan @lovebot4han @camisun93 @emmmui @toruro @jeonride @novalpha @nvmrljk @feat-sun @tinkerbell460 @aaniag @tacosandbitch @cottoncheol @embrace-themagic @onlymingyus
You have only seen the room in passing personally, but countless times over video. You’re not even shocked by the dozens of expensive toys he’s put in those glass displays, so used to seeing them enter a human orifice one way or the other. The burly man bashfully guides you away from the scandalous room, skillfully diverting your attention to the lush foliage he's entrusted you to tend to, a gentle blush adorning his warm-toned cheeks.
How you keep the fact that you have been secretly watching your friend’s cam shows–including the charity stream of him doing push ups in a singular pair of skintight briefs–was a mystery, even to you. 
It’s not like you meant to get addicted to porn. But Mingyu, unapologetic about his line of work, practically served it up on a silver platter for you. He says he could use all the help he could get, but frankly, he couldn’t have it more easy. 
With that body, that hair, that face, that smile, there’s no doubt in your mind he’d be a fan favorite and you were right. He’s now one of the rising adult content creators in his line of work, heavily acclaimed in the cam category and recently in independent film. That’s what his trip is about, awarding him for his hard work that he never thought he’d accomplish.
It fills you with pride, yet piques your curiosity; fusing platonic and sensual feelings that blur the lines between friendship and desire for Mingyu, actualizing this full fledged crush. But you’d never let him find that out. Not unless it was against your will.
“And that’s pretty much it. Everything else is pretty self-explanatory. I’ll be back on Tuesday.”
“Tuesday, hmm?” Your eyebrows bounce in place suggestively. “Thinking of pursuing personal projects while working?”
He shrugs like a timid schoolboy, cheekbones pigmented and perky like bright ripe cherries. “No promises—Now, repeat back to me everything I’ve told you to do.”
You playfully roll your eyes, offended he had the gall to doubt you. “Water each green buddy once a day; keep crumbs off tables, counters, furniture, etc; put everything back where it should be; and,” you start to grin, “no sex parties, even though this is the perfect place for it.”
“Okay, that last one was obviously a joke but very much serious. Although tempting, under any circumstances, do not fuck anyone in this house while I’m gone.”
“So circumstances would be different if you were home?”
Getting a shade brighter in red, he points a demanding finger at you like a stern mother, “I mean it.”
“Yes, mom,” sarcasm coating your tongue.
“Good.”
Mingyu, armed with a suitcase containing all his essentials, casually waves you off. There's a playful authority in the final point of his finger, a silent reminder to behave before he disappears behind the imposing door.
You promise him you’ll do your due diligence in taking care of his home, and that would be an easy enough task, the real problem stems from the temptation of one specific room. Mingyu’s cam room.
Distinct from the usual rooms such as the bathroom, Mingyu's kitchen, and his primary bedroom, this space stands alone, akin to an office. Mingyu himself has shared its origin story: starting from the sweetest of riddances of a god-awful roommate, followed by many desperate nights to cover the remaining monthly rent, ultimately giving birth to this room that many of his fans like to call ‘Sinner’s Safehaven.’ So rightfully acclaimed.
You’re a fan of yourself, able to outline the bedroom from memory and recollect every toy from every live stream he’s ever posted. Unable to resist the temptation, your feet instinctively embark on a self-guided tour. Your eyes are bewitched by the intricacies of every weapon of pleasure, every scent of his array of miscellaneous liquids, every phallic-shaped object that stands tall and mighty like a national monument.
It’d be a lie to say you weren’t tempted to take advantage of the opportunity, maybe just to get the sick idea out of the way. Your hands manage to find a mind of their own, reaching over to unlock one of the glass displays, wrapping your hand around the object’s girth, and taking it out from its confinement for a closer view.
A stunning crystal toy that reflects off the lights of the room, looking in pristine condition as if fresh from packaging. If Mingyu is good at one thing it’s maintaining his tools, and he does not let anyone forget.
Ever since he showcased it on screen, you've desired to covet one just like it, inducing a late-night web surf to discover the outrageous out-of-reach prices for a product of such exceptional quality and aesthetic appeal. It does not look to be in the cards for you to own one, but borrowing wouldn’t be a problem. He did say everything only needed to be put back in place and what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.
Following the devilish voice whispering in your ear, you slip into something more comfortable, letting the well-conditioned air blow a draft against your bare legs. You hold the toy excitedly before dipping your weight in the bed, the silk sheets and pillowy cushion embracing you at all sides.
The knowledge that the infamous crystal dildo is in your hand makes your heart pound and pussy throb. You can count all the videos of it being featured with one hand, and despite it all, you know it had to be Mingyu's favorite. 
One particular video comes to mind as you hold the tip against your inner thigh, moving it identical to the way Mingyu held it against him, realizing they are coincidentally the same length, same girth, and same tantalizing presence. You practically dreamed of having him and this toy inside of you for months after that show and now half of that dream would be possible.
Your fingers didn’t have to be inside you to know you’re wet, practically soaked through your panties the moment you laid eyes of Mingyu and his sex room. Fuck, if you aren’t so damn ashamed of the truth of your feelings, you’d never let him out of your sight. 
A long note of your moan exhales as you insert the tip between your wet folds, introducing the strangest yet arousing thing to be done to you. It’s certainly big as you expect it to be, maybe even more as you plunge it in deeper. Affirmations exit your lips in short bursts, your other hand up your shirt as they tease your nipples through your bra.
Your legs crutch in reaction to its ridged shape massaging your walls, then the cool hard surface finds that familiar hotspot, unfortunately only halfway down its length. Your cheeks flush imagining Mingyu’s face, imagining the words to come out of those lips if it were his cock.
‘Already? I haven’t even put it all in yet.’
It fuels your determination, deadset in taking all of it—all of him.
‘You can do it, can't you? You can take my cock for me?’
Somewhere, lost in the contagious air of sex and starvation, your mind runs rampant. Your hips buck into the crystal, letting it settle inside you all the way before you thrust it harder. You hiss at its size, expelling a moan once you no longer feel its shaft around your fingers and just take it, take it as if it a canine smile were on the other end.
‘So good…so good at taking all of my cock.’
“I am being good,” you mumble under your breath. “So good...”
Your whimpers go unnoticed by you, only worried of the dildo carrying on its mission. Sensation running down your legs and arms, and your hips hover over the mattress. Your back arches and you spell his name out in the only way the body fully intends you to: in longing breaths, “Mingyu…please…”
‘What? What is it?’
You groan at the image of his smile. “Let me cum please…”
‘Do you deserve it?’
“Yes, Gyu, please…” You thrust faster. “Oh my god—“
‘Yes, that’s it. That pretty pussy should cum all over my hard fucking cock.’
“Yes, yes!” Your arousal seeps all around you, a visible stain beneath your thighs and you don’t care. “God, right there! Right there—“
“What do you think you’re doing?”
Then it becomes no longer your imagination. The voice you’ve created in your mind had an echo, lingering in the depths of your filth rotted head, but the one you just heard had to be the original.
You scramble to hide under the sheets, eyes as big as saucers as the man of your fantasy stands clear in your reality at the foot of his bedroom. “M-Mingyu. The train.”
“I forgot some things. Couldn’t leave without them, so I told the driver to turn back.” He peers over your situation, intrigued by your legs folded on top of one another beneath the covers, the proof trepidation of your forehead, and your lips swollen from instinctive biting. “What do we have here?”
You laugh nervously, unprepared for the shitshow soon to arise. “I see how this looks—“
“Looks like you’ve had a bit of fun.” He huffs with his arms crossed as he approaches, the human made stain plain in sight on his bed sheets which you’ve fail to cover up. “Too much maybe. And all by yourself.”
“Well, you see—“
“And the mess you made.” His hand pushes against the mattress, leaning over to your side and drinking in your view. “All over my bed. All over my Crystal dildo.”
You avoid his gaze, wishing to disappear in a cloud of smoke right about now. “Okay. You can understand how this would bother you.”
“Oh I’m not bothered by it—not in the slightest—but…you could’ve at least waited until I came back.”
Mingyu pulls the sheets off of you and he exposes your guilt, seeing it in its raw, glistening glory. His eyes scan over you, swallowing at that scent revealed, and a fire lights up in his stomach. “Dirty little pervert can’t stop saying my name while using my toy, hmm? Don’t you know better to touch things that don’t belong to you?”
“I…I…I’m sorry,” You squeak.
“Well, I can’t just let this go now, can I?”
You shake your head, breathing through your nose. You’re scared of him hearing how fast your heart has decided to pound, how wet you’ve become well after your orgasm, and how dry your throat is after you heard him call you a pervert. 
Wordlessly, he takes the glass dildo from your fingertips, claiming what’s rightfully his, and plunging between his lips halfway down its shaft. Your eyes capture it in full color, reveling in the moan that slips past his lips. Your chest rises and falls watching him take it deeper almost effortlessly as his slack cladded knees dip into the mattress. 
“Mmh…who knew a pervert’s pussy could taste so sweet,” he mumbles, smiling into the toy. It leaves his mouth with a pop before it aims back at you. “Taste it. Taste how sweet your dirty pussy is all over my cock.”
Your stomach coils, reluctantly obliging to crack open your mouth. Mingyu hums, content with what he sees as he eases the toy towards your mouth. “Don’t be shy. Take my crystal cock, perv.”
Your lips wrap around the head, tasting the salty, faintly sweet, flavor lingering on the glass before it travels past your lips.You look back at him, almost as if waiting for his instruction, and receive a stroke on the back of your head as a response. 
“That’s it. Let it go deep down your throat. Have to make up for ruining my bed, right?”
You nod, unable to speak as you bob down, licking up what you can and collecting every inch of the toy. His eyes become a dark pit that stares back at you, dominance taking over his entire presence. He doesn’t speak, only watches and for what feels like forever, pushing the toy in and out of your mouth.
Your muffle around its girth, tears starting to brim your eyes as it hits the back of your throat, but it doesn’t falter Mingyu in the slightest.
"You're crying. Does it hurt?" Mingyu asks in a domineering tone, to which you nod. "Do you want me to stop?" he inquires, to which you shake your head.
His lips graze your ear, and you sense his charming smile whispering against your skin as he replaces the imaginary devilish voice with his very real and alluring one. “Then deep throat it like you mean it, you fucking slut.”
Your lips parted wider, a shattered moan aches out, only to have the toy stuck down your throat long enough for your tears to sting. Gasping for air, Mingyu finally shows mercy and unplug your airways. Coughing uncontrollably, salvia dribbles down your chin as you retrieve your stolen oxygen. His hand tenderly caresses at the back of your head, threading through the tangles of your hair.
“Good job,” he says in a hushed voice, picking your face up by your chin. “Now. Do you think that was an appropriate punishment?”
He tucks your hair behind your ear, lethally silent as he anticipates your response.
It takes you a moment to realize where you are, who you're with, and what this all meant for you. Mingyu’s cam persona has haunted your inner thoughts, degrading you as if you were scum, tossing your body like a rag doll, marking and bruising your skin only he would find, and you relished in every earth-shattering, mind-blowing orgasm it’s caused. You’d be a fool to say otherwise.
“N-no. It’s not enough.”
“Is that so,” He questions amused. Slowly, his hand travels from your hair to your face, tracing your jaw in a languid movement and coming across your neck to size it in his large hand. “What will be enough for you exactly?”
The pad of his fingers presses the slightest amount of pressure on the column of your neck, emerging a gasp so soft Mingyu almost doesn't register it. He grins, hot breath fanning your face as he watches your legs squirm. It comes as a surprise to you when he single-handedly pins your body against the bed frame, leveraging you against it before he comes down and faces your pussy drowning its own cum. 
“I should at least have compensation done for the damage you’ve made, don’t you think?”
He grips your neck a fraction tighter before you feel his mouth make contact with your core. Physically vibrating, you feel the sensation of his tongue flicking at your clit, and visibly melt before he explores down. “You’re so fucking wet,” he chuckles condescendingly through your arousal. “If I knew any better I’d think you’re wet because of me, as if the screaming of my name wasn’t proof enough.”
“Mingyu...” you whine through your ceased breath.
“And you sound so pretty when you say my name too,” He groans as inhales your scent that blurs his surroundings, devouring you inside and out. “Fucking tease…taste so damn good.”
Mingyu’s chokehold loosens to cascade down your body, fingers moving like ribbons tracing your shape and memorizing every bump and curve through the thin layer of your shirt. Your voice gives out, clenching your fists as he explores you in swirls, moisture seeping out of your cunt but never ending and leaving you in an endless loop of pleasure.
He holds you up by your legs, your thighs crushing either side of his face as he buries himself in your insatiable pussy while its dripping down his chin and neck. He groans inside you, mustering every impish sound possible as he eats you clean, not minding how you’re at the end of your wits locking his head in place.
“G-gyu, shit,” you sputter. “I’m c-close.”
He simply scoffs, “Good,” plunging his tongue deeper, nose pushing against your swollen clit. Words stay lodged down your throat, trapped from escaping as you writhe in his grip and he swallows the taste of you succumbing to his control. You aren’t aware of the eyes watching every second of you give in, how they beam with pride and greed as he goes for more. The notes of fruit and musk only makes Mingyu’s craving intensify, unwilling to surrender the sweet nectar once he’s gotten his taste. 
With a yelp, he drops your legs and tugs you toward him, rendering you defenseless as he's clamped either of your side. You drink in his body towering over you as he swiftly pulls his shirt over his head and off his body, bestowing you a deific image that you never grow tired of.
“Shall I help you undress?” He offers, kindly for once.
You drop your head in a reluctant nod and your heart swells at the sight of his smile before they capture your lips, tasting yourself on his tongue.
Mingyu’s movement isn’t needy, it’s efficient and effective. Salty peppermint kisses and hands that move gingerly with ease culminate proof of a man that has countless amounts of partners and endless experience. Almost as if he’s ready for any and every given opportunity and you more than believe it.
Seeing as he knows how to handle himself, undoubtedly that meant he’d know how to handle you. That rouses you, anticipation resonating in the pit of your stomach, and like that, you’ve embraced your nudity just as Mingyu has in the safety of his firm arms.
He manages to kick off his pants, freeing him of the restraint of fabric and his hips dip into yours. And again and again. And again and again. Just to show you what you’ve created in your messy experiment. 
If you weren’t already hot under his touch, you swear the room was hotter than any vast desert. Perspiration sprayed against your back, your forehead, your chest, but strangely you’re obsessed with his and the incidentally salty taste of his skin as you kiss. “You feel huge,” you mutter in a flustered breath. 
His cock pulsates through his briefs against your thigh, screaming to join the party and make himself known in ways he hasn’t shown yet. Not yet with you. He smiles against your lips, grasping your hips more firmly. More definitely. “It’s too soon to be saying that.”
“Then…” Your fingers, tantalized by the appearance of his styled hair, didn’t resist the urge to comb through it, pleasantly surprised with the silky, pliable sensation. “I hope I get to soon.”
“Pervert,” he repeats with a grin. His hand wraps around your wrist, pulling it away from his head and landing on the hem of his underwear. Mingyu is good at getting back on track as he immediately pulls his waistband away from torso, springing his cock that stands in your direction in determination. A familiar yet foreign sight that you never expected to be on the other end of. “By the way, don’t forget. You’re making it up to me. Not the other way around.”
Naturally, your hand finds the ridged texture of his shaft. “Yes, of course.” You feel it twitch under his touch, growing as a nail trails up a singular vein. “But I never said I’d make that easy.”
“Really? A sentence where ‘you’ and ‘easy’ just seems to fit.”
You sneer at him, calming down after seeing an amicable jab you’re used to. “You’re one to talk.”
“And I won’t be done talking. On your knees,” He demands.
“Or what?”
Mingyu isn’t new to your taunting but he can't help the steam coming out of his ears this time around. Gathering your weight, he swiftly turns you on your stomach and props you up as his cock settles between the cheeks of your ass. “I’ll do things like that. I’m patient until I’m not. Not when it comes to perverted brats like you.”
You voluntarily moan as you back into him, allowing the cock to slide up and down. “I’d like to see it. Unless you’re all talk.”
A familiar coolness of glass finds itself home in your sopping cunt. You mewl at the sensation, rolling your eyes to the back of your head. The side of your head braces for the bed and letting the toy suction your pussy, buzzing . “Fuck…”
“Spoke to soon, didn’t you?”
“Have—fuck—mercy…” Your words speak like pleads but your body could not be more delightful in taking every inch, adjusting from the backside in record time.
“See? Look at you take all that cock,” he spits in the smack center, rubbing around your rim and pussy thoroughly. “And knowing you and our conversations, I know you can take it well somewhere else. Isn’t that right?”
“Y-you wouldn’t…”
“I can. Unless…that’s not what you want. Unless you want me to leave this room without putting my cock in you and not fuck you like the dirty fucking slut you are.”
“Fuck…you…” The glass vanished through you, reappearing at Mingyu's will, muffling your protests, and swallowing the glass dildo satisfyingly from your cunt. The bedsheets become balls in your hand, wrinkled and worn, just as you planned to be after Mingyu is through with you.
“That’s not an answer.” He teases, thrusting faster.
“Shit…fuck…Yes please fuck, I want it. I want more. Please…”
“Excited are you, pervert?” He inquires, managing to grab the lube from a nearby drawer and squirt it on the ring of your hole. The bite of the cool gel stings in a way that’s familiar, but does not grow any easier as it physically and mentally preparing you.
“You…suck…Kim Mingyu…”
“I’ve already done that already, perv.”
Taking the crystal dildo out of your pussy, he carefully sets it aside, prepping your untouched hole for entry and feeling you clenched around his fingers. “So tight. What? Did you lie and you’re actually an anal virgin.”
“I’m not,” you moan in defense, hearing the erotic squelching burns your ears and makes your already hot skin scorching to the touch. His fingers are tolerable, but still bigger you’re used to and it’s more apparent as he inserts another finger. “I just never had anything that big. Nothing your size.”
“I’m honored.”
You hope that his cock could fuck you the way his fingers does, if not then better, already buzzing at the pace they move inside you, stretching you wider and wider.
“F-fuck off.”
“Not yet. It’s coming.” You feel the head of the dildo perk up your rim as it eases in you, the drip of lube between your cheeks drowning your hole and all the moisture it could ask for. Still, Mingyu is careful to adjust to your preference, opening you up and seeing how the toy slowly destroys you inside and out.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Your hands slam against the bed, allowing the gradual introduction to take over all your senses. 
“You’re taking the cock so well up your ass, fuck. I haven’t seen anyone do that yet. Remember you talking about it, made curious if you actually could.”
“I don’t lie…about stuff…like that…” you spread your ass, offering the perfectly lewd view for Mingyu, practically dripping all for him.
“Shit, I need to be inside you.”
He rolls a condom on his length, tossing the wrapper where he doesn’t see it and teases your slit moist in your cum. In the midst of it, you feel the tip of his cock rubbing your clit, and your whine ensue as you wait for more, not properly being used to the full advantage. Mingyu laughs to himself, seeing how desperate you look, reveling in the sounds that leave your body as it fuels his cock before he plunges inside you.It's an indescribable sensation, almost sacrilegious in its intensity, yet it leaves you convinced that Heaven must reside wherever Mingyu is.
You thought you knew the meaning of being spit open until it’s Mingyu reintroducing the idea. His cock and toy planted  so deep inside you, fucking both of your holes until you’re rendered into like what he calls you, a perverted little slut. You don't mind in the slightest; in fact, when the thoughts swirling through your mind are nothing but incoherent, you're utterly indifferent to anything else. Your state of matter was to be fucked, double fucked, and fucked to ruin until you’ve come over and over again.
“Stupid slut…stupid…perverted…fucking slut…Look at you…you like getting fucked in the pussy and ass, hmm?”
“Yes god yes,” you confirm, devoid of words otherwise.
He smacks you full against the cheek, groaning into the sex thicken air as he melts into your body like butter. “Yeah? How does it make you feel?”
“Full…”
“You like that?” Another smack to your ass. “Fucking pervert likes being fucked full. Big fucking surprise.”
His thrusts grow rough, already annoyed by the toy in his hands when he’s eager to plant both on your body and fill the full extent of your body. “God you’re hot,” he mumbles, “Why does a pervert like you get to be so hot, hmm?” He rams into you, feeling you jump back against him.
“Makes me want to fucking drain my cock in you, but no, I have—“ he slams again, a burst of ache living your lips, “—Work! God, I fucking needed this. I needed you and every inch before I needed to leave.”
You’d respond if you weren’t so occupied. He drowns your thoughts out every second he’s inside you, to the point nothing else exists.
“Shit, I have work,” Mingyu repeats as if dawning the thought for the first time. He lets go of the toy and manages to direct it with his thrusts, moving him and the toy into you at the same pace. You scream at him, shattered breaths taking over you, and his name is the only consistent, as you spread yourself wider to take it, left with only the base of the toy and the end of Mingyu’s shaft.
“I’m coming, I’m coming,” you whine incessantly, shaking and bucking into him until you cum all over his cock, undoubtedly flooding and dripping down the side of your legs.
But Mingyu takes his time and it tastes sweet than any candy, fucking your pussy and ass deeper, harder until his mind as gone as yours is. “Shit, shit, shit. Turn around and look at me.”
You do as told, dildo still in the pocket of your ass, as his cock is aimed at your lips, the condom abandoned just like its wrapper. His hands run in your hair, gripping from the root and he pushes you over the head of his cock, groaning as more pretty souvenir images for him to look back on. “Look at you. Good at taking cock there too?”
You nod, mumbling a confirmation before Mingyu penetrates deeper, noticing him lodged in you throat before bucking his hips in your mouth. “Then take it. Take all of my cum. Can’t leave another mess behind.”
Wide eyes of mischief look back at him, holding him by the back of his cock as you bob against him. He grips tighter to the back of his head, pulling and tugging as your hair become the size of his fists and you feel him hit the back of your throat. He now sees the white of your eyes, the flare of your nostrils, the quiver of jaw before it overwhelms him.
“Fuck, take it.” The load builds up to its full intensity, intoxicating him until theirs tears even in his eyes, the kind that supersedes one of joy. 
You hold his hips with both spreadhands, welcoming his release with closed eyes. You mouth gets flooded, blown up so full you’re close to choking, gagging from the contents dispersed in you.
“Take it,” Mingyu says fatigued. “You don’t have to swallow it, but take it.”
But you do swallow it, what you could anyway, and it’s inevitable that you’re a coughing mess when you unlatch from him, dribbling in a concoction of your bodily fluids and cum running along your torso, cunt, and legs.
“Okay,” Mingyu pants, “Now I really need to get to that train.”
You’re catching your breath as he cleans himself off with wet paper towels he had on hands, cleaning off the work of his cock but leaving the rest of him untouched. It’s fine, however, seeing as he glows with an air of lust, making him more charismatic than he normally did, and you’re brimming with pride knowing you’ve caused it. “I’m surprised you have that much energy off camera.”
“It helps, that it’s you.” He timidly admits, raising the temperature in your body. “And who said we’re off camera.” He points to the security camera at the corner of his room, reminding you too late that he’s used to using more than one camera to capture any and all angles. “I even forgot about it for a second.”
“Oh.”
“I can delete it if you want.”
“No it’s okay, but um….Send me a copy.”
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slasherbvnnie · 1 year
Text
Until We Found You
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Hello! This is my first time ever posting onto here, so please excuse any mistakes or any tags that may be missing. I wanted to write about a poly!ghostface au and age up all the characters and place them into college. I hope this gets at least a few reads!
Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI Part VII Part VIII Part IX
Context: Modern Day College Scream AU, Obsessed AFAB!Reader, Eventual Poly!Ghostface x reader, Eventual NSFW, All characters 18+
You bit down on the tip of your pencil, chewing the metal part of it as you spaced out for the hundredth time today. A few days ago news broke of one of your best friends being killed, Casey Becker, and like every day since that fateful night, news reporters were swarming the campus. Woodsboro University was famous overnight for it, a crazed killer on the loose in the town and no one knew why Casey and her boyfriend Steve were the victims. What made it truly unnerving was that no one knew if they were going to be the only ones.
It didn’t make you scared, not really at least, you were more intrigued than worried if you were going to be the next person to get a mysterious phone call. No, you spent the next morning with Randy and learned all about what happened. How Steve was found bound to the chair, duct tape and blood practically branded onto him, and how the Beckers found Casey. She was one of your best friends, you couldn’t deny you felt like you needed some therapy for not crying for more than maybe an hour over her, but something in you was more interested in who did it.
That was what was on your mind for the hundredth time today, any of Casey’s boyfriends all the way to fucking pre-k could be a suspect, maybe her family, or maybe it was some random stranger who decided to take their anger out on an unsuspecting teenage girl. Randy and you talked all first period about your suspicions on who it could be, even accusing each other of being the killer, it did fit after all, the two horror buffs who knew every goddamn easter egg in every horror movie there was, it seemed perfect.
“Sidney, can you please tell your friend the answer to at least make it seem like she was listening?” Ms. Crane asked, Sidney nudging you and whispering the answer as the class laughed. “ah, um, phosphorus gas.” You answered, looking at Sidney with wide eyes after you answered. “Phosphine, but I will take that. You guys can pack up, let me take role before you all leave.” Ms. Crane said with a sigh.
“What’s up with you? Are you totally sure you don’t want to go to the grief counselor after school? I mean even Tate went-“ “Sid, I’m fine, seriously. I just, it’s freaky is all. I mean not knowing who did it? What if they have a thing for college chicks, I think we fit into that category very well and-“ “And we will be fine, it was probably just a one-time thing…I mean it's more likely that it is, right?” Sidney asked as she packed her bag, putting a comforting hand on your shoulder. “Don’t sweat it, if you want you can stay at my place for the week, my dad’s on a trip and I would kinda enjoy the company,” she offered, smiling at you reassuringly. You gave a nod, “yeah, let me just at least spend tonight at my place, my mom will kill me if I miss dinner tonight and take off for a week out of the blue.” “Are you sure you’re really 19 and not 9?” Sidney asked jokingly, earning a laugh from you.
After dinner you had taken a shower, your parents had gone out for the night to take a late-night date- which you theorized was them renting a motel to not risk traumatizing you. You brushed out your hair as you sat down on your vanity chair, putting it into a braid before you went to bed. Your cat was sitting peacefully on your bed, moving every now and then to change her position before darting out of your room. “Irena!” You called after her, scoffing when she didn’t come back to the room. You put your hairbrush down onto your vanity, taking a look in the mirror before getting up from your seat. “I hope you don’t think you are eating even more food, missy, you got fed so much while I was at class today,” you said, acting as if Irena could really understand you. You made your way to your door, nearly walking out before noticing a paper had fallen onto the ground near your desk. You picked it up, reading the headline, Casey Becker and Steve Orth- funerals to be held on Friday the 27th at 9-11 AM. You sighed and set it down on the other papers stacked on your desk.
You walked out of your room, heading downstairs “Irena! Come on, I wanna go to bed,” you whined out, calling the cat to your room. You found her in the living room, hiding under the couch and refusing to come to you. “Fine, I’ll leave you a blanket out and don’t you dare come scratching at my door at 3 AM,” you told her, going to the hallway closet to get a blanket out for her. Once you had gotten one, you spread it out across the couch for her and said goodnight.
You were about halfway to your room when your phone began to buzz, digging it out of your pocket and seeing your mom's number you quickly answered. “Hey, what's up? You guys heading back already,” You asked, continuing up to your room.
“Heading back? Who said I ever left?” A strange voice asked on the other line, making you pause for a moment as you moved to make sure it was your mom. “Listen asshole, I don’t have more than 15 dollars in my bank account so have fun with whatever hot cheetos and mountain dew you can get with that,” you said before hanging up on them, putting your phone back into your pocket. You were up the stairs now, deciding to use the bathroom before you went to bed for the night but before you could open the door your phone rang again. “Didn’t I already say I don’t have money? What the fuck do you want?” You asked angrily, “Irena, right? Like Irena Dubrovna? Who did you prefer, Simone or Natassja?” The same voice asked you, making you look down the stairs. Irena hadn’t moved yet and no one was around her, or at least from what you could see. “If you hurt my fucking cat I will personally cut off your balls and feed them to he-“ A laugh from the caller cut you off, “I don’t have fun with animals. I’m not Bundy or Dahmer, I like to see my victims, human victims…struggle.” You heard your parent's bedroom door open, letting out a scream before running into your room and slamming the door shut, locking it quickly before the person began to bang on it. You looked around, going to your window and trying to lift it open.
The door cracked, it was like the scene from the shining, except this killer bore a white mask, you recognized it from the Halloween store- father death. You struggled with the window again, before giving up and grabbing the lamp from your bedside table and throwing it at them. The killer moved out of the way before they were hit, pushing their body against the door once more and climbing in through the opening. You could see them fiddle with their knife as if they had held it in their hands a hundred times already and were skilled at fidgeting with it.
You grabbed a glass organizer from your desk, taking the scissors from it before chucking the holder at them. The papers you had stacked before scattered from the throw as they fell down. You rushed to the window as they struggled to get up but never heard them stand. When your head whipped around to check if they were behind you, you instead saw them looking at the papers around them.
Masked killer, Casey and Steve headlines, Maureen Prescott, Cotton Weary trials, even the cutouts you had of Sidney from court. You were obsessed. There were drawings, suspects lists, hell all these needed were red kiss marks and ‘please fuck me mr ghostface!’ written in pink glitter pen ink.
You stared wide-eyed at them when you saw their gaze now on you, their head cocked to the side as a laugh sounded from behind the mask. Just then you heard the sound of gravel being crushed around from the driveway, your parent's car was pulling in, you saw them getting out from your window. When you turned back you noticed the person was gone, you ran downstairs and met your parents at the door, crying and beginning to blubber on about what nearly happened. 
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ms-demeanor · 4 months
Note
This is regarding your post involving making friends. I have had a spectacular amount of failures in meetup groups, particularly involving men from multiple meetup groups trying to take advantage of me or using me. In addition to that, the other members of the groups tend are often quite rude. Also, many meetups in my area tend to fall into one of the following categories: professional seminar, mommy & me, or the other members are double my age or older. What would you advise?
Volunteering - find something you care about and see if there is a local volunteer opportunity; you might want to look into food banks or mutual aid projects.
Crafting - this will likely be an older crew, but making friends with older people is cool honestly.
Sports - see if there's a kickball league or some other variety of low-key sport that you can sign up for.
Get super into the local music scene. Go to bar shows, go to basement shows, go to backyard shows. If you go to places where they have local music and hang out a bunch you will get to know local music people eventually, which includes both people in bands and people interested in bands.
Become a regular at your local library. Go once a week at the same time of day and you'll start to get to know people.
Become a regular at something else local. If you go to the same coffee shop three times a week for a few months and are polite to the employees you will probably eventually have friends among the people there; even if you do this by walking around the neighborhood park at the same time of day you will start getting to know the park regulars people love habits and if you can become a chill part of their daily scenery they will eventually want to investigate further.
Start your own club of some kind. Maybe start a book club for a particular genre of book that you like, or start a movie group where you meet up to see a movie together twice a month. You can post things like this on meetup websites or facebook, but you can also make fliers to put up in places that you think people you might find interesting would hang out.
Join a gym and go regularly. Sometimes a random person you see all the time in a gym can go from being a reliable on-the-spot spotter to a good friend.
Take a class locally. See if your town has a community center that offers cooking classes or computer classes or any kind of classes even things you already know. I keep making jokes about improv but improv people are great; see if you can take an impov class. See if your local music store offers music classes (I made weirdly good friends with the folks at the music store where I took vocal lessons; this was a pleasant surprise!)
When you try any of these places make friendly smalltalk with the people you encounter and express interest in them. If you are speaking to employees, make sure you're giving them lots of conversational outs because attempting to befriend people who are working can feel like you're cornering them, I'd actually say don't try to befriend the employees at a business unless you go there and they attempt to befriend you, however as someone who worked in coffee shops for ten years if someone randomly started showing up for six hours a week I would almost certainly have gotten to a friendly shoot-the-shit level with them within a month; if you go out among people who are sociable and are around them enough sometimes the sociable people go "aha! new friend sighted!" and do the hard work for you, but you do have to go to places to let yourself be found by the sociable ones.)
I do not, generally speaking, use meetup groups as a generic thing as much as I look into what groups exist locally that I am interested in. If a local game store is running a weekly Magic tournament, that's a better place to meet people in my opinion than a one-time bowling event.
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fairydustblossom · 8 months
Text
encroaching promises
azriel x reader
summary: based on this request "I would love if you wrote something where Azriel was a dick and he has to GROVEL. (Angst feeds my soul) please and thank you."
category: angst (i just rly love it)
word count: 4.8k
warnings: slightly nsfw in some parts, emotional (not physical) disloyalty ?? maybe ?? kinda ??
notes: umm this was so fun to write! it came to me so fast like I didn't even have to edit it?? hopefully it's good lmao anways i hope you enjoy this @liddyr03, thank you for sending in a request!!
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Something had shifted between you and Azriel. It had been a gradual shift, one you had felt coming on for some time- but you could have never expected the reason for the growing distance between you and your mate.
He had been working longer hours, waking up earlier, barely spending any free time with you and you knew the middle Archeron sister had a part in it. You had tried to ignore it, their growing closer. Azriel had taken a liking to her. At first, your heart had warmed at Azriel’s willingness to help. There had not been many opportunities in his life where he could help someone directly, not just in a battlefield or in an interrogation room. You witnessed the impact it had on him, you could feel his inner peace, the way he viewed himself, his self worth improving- and you were proud of him. You really were happy that Azriel was finally seeing himself in a way you had always seen him. You believed in kindness, in helping others, in going above and beyond for someone in need, you had always preached it to Azriel. It had been one of the things that had drawn him to you, seeing in you traits he wanted to possess. But now, it had gone too far. 
You had noticed Elain and Azriel growing closer and closer. You had pushed your wariness aside, opting to be kind to her, hoping to help her in the way Azriel was doing so. Maybe she could be a good friend to you both, you thought. But Elain had not been as welcoming to your helping hand. Instead, she had treated you as she had treated all other fae, like you were a monster, personally responsible for her family's misfortune.
You tried time and time again to be graceful, to brush off her rudeness. You chose to be understanding, to put yourself in her shoes. But still, she treated you poorly. When you would join Azriel in visiting her, you noticed the difference in treatment. How she would look at him, and how she would look at you, like you had something she wanted. 
Eventually, you stopped joining Azriel in his visits, finding it hard to control your feelings of jealousy and not wanting to come across as an irrational possessive mate. He was only helping her get better, you told yourself.
After you stopped going together, you noticed how his visits grew longer and longer. The longer he would be there, the more you would question it. What are they doing? Why is she keeping him there? Is it him that wants to stay longer?
The questions would run through your head until the moment he would walk into your shared chambers. You would lay your eyes upon your tired mate, but you would catch the gleam in his eyes, happy with himself for doing some good for once, and you would push aside all jealousy. How could you ever doubt your mate? The very same male that had worshiped you for years, that had vowed his undying love to you, who was bound to your soul. And so you would welcome him home with open arms, letting him fall to bed, little words spoken of his day.
It kept on like this, for months, till a whole year had passed and you no longer recognized your relationship with Azriel. You barely spoke anymore, going through your established routines around each other in silence. What had once brought you so much comfort, now left you fretting that something had irrevocably changed. You knew next to nothing about what Azriel was thinking, of where he spent his days, although you had a good idea of who he spent them with. You who had once been his closest confidant, wrapped in his arms till late hours of the night, whispering every thought that crossed through your minds to each other. You were barely having any sex. What used to be almost a daily activity, was now a hurried fuck in the dark, taking no time to explore one another's bodies, only looking for a quick release. You hadn’t actually seen your mate’s body in months. Had Azriel finally had enough of yours after all this time?
Elain’s smell had practically been imprinted on him. You never smelled any sex, no, and you thought, no you hoped, that Azriel would never do that. But it hurt all the same when you could smell her on his clothing, for that only happened when a fae was around all the time. 
You had decided to take matters into your own hands. You were waiting for Azriel to come home, wearing his favorite silk slip that you had surprised him with on the night of your mating ceremony. Determination drove you- you would not let him go to bed without first feeling satiated. 
And so you waited, your belly fluttering with parts equal nerves and excitement. You were excited because you knew your mate would melt at the sight of you, and love on you like you were accustomed to. You felt maybe all you and Azriel needed was one night to destress, to reconnect and everything would be back to normal. 
When Azrile came home, his eyes immediately darkened at the sight of you, he recognized the slip you were wearing, images of your mating ceremony flashing through his mind. He was overcome with need for you and it only took a matter of minutes before you were pressed up against the wall, lost in a hungry kiss. You sent all your excitement down the bond and he groaned into the kiss, sending his desire right back. You were elated, nothing pleased you more than the feeling of Azriel against you and feeling the bond thrumming with need.
Azriel was quick to pick you up and carry you to your shared bedroom, tossing you on the bed. You sat up on your knees, wrapping your arms around his neck, wanting to slow this down a bit. You could feel how badly he wanted you, not only through the bond but by the bulge pressing into your flushed bodies. The mother knew you wanted him just as badly, and any other time you would have given into your needs in a desperate attempt to chase the release you were craving. But you wanted to take him in, wanting to drag this out as long as possible, to drink in the sight of his glorious body that your eyes had been deprived of. 
You pressed your forehead against his, willing your breath to calm down. Azriel pulled his head back a bit, brows furrowing slightly and a look of confusion overtaking his eyes, “You alright, love?” a wave of worry flowed down the bond, his hands roamed your body, bringing you comfort and spreading warmth all over. 
You flushed slightly, butterflies erupting in your belly at hearing the pet name. Your ears perked, not having heard the endearment in so many months. Gods, you had missed him. You smiled shyly at him, and gave him a slight nod. Azriel felt his knees buck, so many years later and a single look from you could make him feel like the inexperienced younglin he used to be back at the camps. You looked so so lovely in that slip, the shy look you gave him, eyes shining with love, and the pink tint on your cheeks he had elicited all warmed his heart. He brought a hand up to your face, moving a stray piece of hair behind your ear, resting his hand at the base of your jaw all while staring intently into your eyes. When he saw your cheeks flush a darker red, he gave you a charming grin, amused and delighted by the sudden shyness in you. He loved that he still had that effect on you, as if you were meeting for the first time.
“I’m alright Az, just taking you in” you murmured, your voice sounding like honey to his ears. 
“You can take me in all you want Y/N, I’m all yours to look at” he murmured back, dipping down to place warm loving kisses on your neck. You were delighted by his words, breathing him in deeply, relishing in the smell of his arousal. You felt delirious and giddy all at once, yes, you thought, all mine. Wishing to remind him, you sent the possessiveness you were feeling down the bond, making Azriel growl and nip at your neck more feverishly, marking you as his. He loved when you claimed him just as much as claiming you, feeling lucky to have someone in his life that wanted him as badly as he had always wanted.
The feeling of Azriel’s nipping and sucking your neck urged you on to keep undressing him. Undoing all the clasps you had started unfurling downstairs, you removed the tight fitting top of his leathers. You ran your hands along his arms, taking pleasure in the warmth of his bare skin against your fingertips. Your mouth watered at the sight of him, trailing your gaze up his tattooed arms, to his chest, hands sliding along- when your eyes snagged on something just below his pec and you halted all your movements. Azriel buried in your neck still, stopped as well, feeling you tense up. You pulled back, taking a good look at what your eyes had seen. It was a tattoo. One you hadn’t seen before. 
Your heart sank, hurt overpowering any feeling of desire you had been feeling. The unexpectedness of the moment had left you vulnerable, leaving your side of the bond wide open for Azriel to feel the sudden shift in your emotions. He froze, suddenly panicked at why you were hurting and he pulled back, grasping your arms and holding you at arms length. He tried meeting your eyes, noticing they were locked in on his torso. When he looked down he saw what you were staring at. 
You couldn’t tear your eyes away from the rose shaped tattoo resting on his right rib. You didn't know what it meant, but you had a feeling you knew what, or rather who, had been the cause of it. You thought of Elain and her precious garden. You thought of Elain and her treasured white roses. You couldn’t fight the tears that lined your eyes and you moved out of Azriel’s grasp to the other side of the room, wanting to be as far away from him as possible. 
Azriel felt his heart sink at the way you fled his touch, as if he had burned you. He saw the look in your eyes and felt his that his world was crashing down.
“What is that Azriel?” you asked, struggling to conceal the wobble in your voice, not actually wanting to hear the truth you already knew.
He swallowed the lump in his throat, looking down at the tattoo your gaze hadn’t drifted from and then looked back up at you. Forcing himself to look at you, even if it made him feel like the biggest dickhead.
“It’s… It’s a promise” he said, wishing he didn’t have to tell you and see the betrayal in your eyes. He had been avoiding this conversation, feeling disgusted at himself for having made the promise in a lapse of judgment.
He saw the fire ignite in your eyes, anger rising at his answer. You already knew it was a promise, and he was aware you wanted more of an explanation. He only hoped you could forgive him, for he did not know if he could forgive you if it were the other way around. Shame creeped up his spine and he mustered up the courage to confess his mistake. He had barely been able to look at himself since the tattoo had seared itself onto his skin and he had opted to ignore it all together- to pretend it wasn’t there. Azriel had done so much pretending, that the tattoo had been fully forgotten moments earlier when he had welcomed and encouraged you to look upon him.
At your lack of response, he cleared his throat and carried on, praying to the mother in his head, for he knew he was about to hurt you and he would hate himself for having caused you pain, “I made a promise. I-I made a promise to Elain.”
You looked up at him then, and the pain he saw in your eyes made him feel sick to his stomach, knowing he has caused it. “Y/N, I swear I didn’t mean to-”
You cut him off, your voice terrifyingly low “What did you promise her Azriel?” 
His cheeks were red and his body felt hot with shame as he replied, “I promised I would always be there to protect her.” 
His words, uttered barely above a whisper, felt like daggers to your heart. You flinched, unable to conceal the effect they had on you. The tears broke free, you managed to hold in your sobs by biting the inside of your cheeks, but you couldn’t hold back the tears. You were biting so hard you tasted blood, and the world felt like it was spinning. You couldn’t find any words, there was nothing to say. He had promised her something he was supposed to only ever promise you.
“I fucked up. I know I did, I’ve been working out a way to undo it.” He started to plead, taking a few steps to close the distance between you. You stepped away, not letting him get near, barely hearing his words over the rushing sound in your ears. “Rhys and Feyre have been helping me find a way to break it. We actually know how, the same way they broke their deal from under the mountain, we just need Elain to-”
You were done listening to him, his words only adding to the hurt you were feeling. Rhys and Feyre knew your mate had promised his protection to another? Did everyone know? Why hadn’t he told you? 
“Leave” you hissed at him. You didn’t care to hear his excuses, you were done. Never would you have ever spent so much time with another male, never would you have ever made such an intimate promise. 
“What?” he asked. He had been expecting you to react this way, for months he had been mentally preparing himself. But to hear you actually say it still caught him off guard. “Y/N, please, I can expl-”
“Leave” you said again, your voice strengthening with conviction. “Get out of my home, Azriel.” You felt if Azriel stayed any longer you would go mad, and you meant your words. This was not a home anymore, not with him in it. He had bound his soul to another, and kept it from you. If he remained here any longer, you don’t know what you would do. You could feel your power thrumming in your veins, begging for release. 
Azrile looked heartbroken, like a man that had lost everything he cared about in this world. He pleaded with his eyes, pushing everything he was feeling down the bond, hoping you would take back his words. When you only looked away as a response, he knew he had to respect your wishes. It pained him unlike anything else to leave you alone after the damage he had caused but he understood there was nothing he could do at that moment to make it better. He steeled himself, calling all his shadows to him, fighting with the ones that were wrapped around you trying to comfort you, and then he vanished.
You broke down when Azriel left, letting the pain of your failed relationship consume you. The image of the rose tattoo was all you could see behind your eyes and you ran to the bathroom to release the bile that had risen up your throat. You sat there on the floor, picturing all the interactions you had witnessed between Azriel and Elain. You could have prevented this, you couldn’t help but think, if you had only stepped in sooner. If you had only kept that girl away from your mate. If you had only shown her anything other than kindness. You had in a sense, lost your mate to another woman. For how could he spend his days with you when he promised to protect another for the rest of her days?
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Azriel knew he had to fix this. He honestly had already been trying to, he wanted nothing more than to be rid of the promise he had made Elain. A promise that she had coerced him into. But to be rid of it, she had to be in agreement. Rhys and Feyre had helped him contact Helion and that is what he had told them. The High Lord of day had also told them it would cause great pain, which Elain had grasped onto in her refusal to break the promise. She argued she had been through enough in the past years to willingly put herself through more pain.
Azriel blamed himself, really. For letting Elain get so close to him, for having been there at her beck and call to the point she expected, no demanded, that treatment from him all the time. He had spent the last few months attempting to convince Elain to go through with breaking the promise. He was doing everything he could for her, hoping if he did enough she would come to her senses and consent to Helion’s spell. 
He kept telling himself she was only holding on to this because she had lost everything else in her life, it made her feel that she was finally in control of something- that she didn’t mean his beloved any harm. But Azriel had come to the realization that whether Elain meant to hurt others or not with her actions- she was being selfish with them. He was devoted to you and he would not let Elain cost him what he prized so dearly in his life. His mate, he kept thinking, he would not lose his mate.
Rhys and Feyre were curled against one another in the living room when Azriel winnowed in, looking distraught, wings drooped, and frantic shadows dispersing around the room- swallowing all light. He dropped down to his knees, tears lining his eyes as he looked up at his High Lord and High Lady. They were instantly alarmed, Rhys dropping to the floor to join his brother while Feyra went to Azriel’s side. Rhys grabbed Azriel’s face in his hands, quickly assessing him for any injuries, he tried peeking into Azriel’s mind and only saw your pained expression. Azriel dropped his head on his brother's shoulder, looking like a fallen angel, and he cried. “Please help me. Please, brother”.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
For the next few weeks, you had isolated yourself- putting wards around the house to prevent any of your family from winnowing in. You had felt each of them attempt to come in, to console you, but you refused to let them in.
You couldn’t forgive them, at least not anytime soon, for having kept this from you. You felt embarrassed. You didn’t know how long ago the promise had been made, you didn’t know how long they had known- all the interactions you had with your family since the time Elain came were now painted in a different light in your mind. Had they all thought you a fool? To let your mate get so close to another female, when Elains affections for Azriel had so clearly been written on her face? You couldn’t bear to face them, knowing they had kept this from you. 
You had also distanced yourself because you weren’t sure of what you would do if you came across Elain. Your territorial feelings had only been enhanced and you were scared of what you would do to your High Lady’s older sister if you saw her.
Azriel had tried almost everyday to talk to you, but you remained firm in your decision, refusing to yield to his pleas. You had received countless notes from Rhys, the only one who could get past your wards, and had burned them all. Until the latest one. You had been reading when a note appeared on the page you were on. Unlike the other ones, this one did not come to you unfolded so you had no option but to read the words they said.  “It is done. Azriel is recovering in the infirmary.” The note raised your heartbeat and caused dozens of questions to rise within you. Suddenly Azriel’s absence the past few days made sense. He had been resolute everyday since you had kicked him out in gaining your forgiveness, staying outside the door to your home waiting for the day you would let him back in. He hadn’t pushed or attempted to break through your wards, and you knew he could, he was the spymaster after all; instead, he had patiently waited, accepting his punishment. Every night, for weeks he had waited, until a few days ago, when he had disappeared and hadn’t come back. You figured he had gotten tired, or given up- you were still too hurt to find out why he had left. 
Now, worry filled you. Was he okay? What did Rhys mean by “recovering”? You recalled the time Rhys and Feyre had faked breaking their bond, fooling everyone by breaking the promise they had made instead- you remembered their shouts of pain, and that was the High Lord and the High Lady, the two most powerful fae in all of Prythian. 
You quickly stood up, pacing around the room, trying to decide what to do. Deep down you knew even if you didn’t go right now, adamant in your stubbornness, worry would eat you and thoughts of Azriel would consume you. Acknowledging you wouldn’t be able to go an hour without knowing, you made your decision and winnowed to the infirmary.
When you arrived, the sight of Azriel made you gasp. He looked awful. You could see the stark dark circles under his eyes, his ruffled hair, the pain expression etched on his face even as he slept. He looked thinner too, as if he hadn’t been eating well- he hadn’t, you learned later on, too sick at his own actions to feel any appetite at all.
You rushed to his side, grasping one of his hands, they felt cold, almost lifeless, and you reached deep within to the bond that tethered your soul to his, the bond you had buried deep down within you and ignored for weeks. You sighed with relief when you found it and tugged on it. He was still there you could feel, but the bond was dulled, as if life had been sucked out of it. 
You burst into tears, never having imagined that the beautiful bond you cherished would ever be in such a weak state. This feeling you had feared, the feeling of Azriel fighting for his life, of barely being there overwhelmed you.
You cried for him, for your love, for everything that had happened until your throat felt hoarse and the tears wouldn’t come anymore. You had sat there by his side for hours, squeezing his hand and murmuring his name over and over, tugging at the bleak bond, willing it to go back to normal. 
All night you spent by his side, the sun was now rising over the mountains of Velaris when you felt a hand land on your shoulder. It was firm and gentle- Rhys. You didn’t look up at him, your head pressed against Azriel’s hand, cradled within your own. When your tears had dried you had resorted to praying to the mother, you were convinced if you prayed enough he would be okay and you wouldn’t let anything interrupt the prayers that tumbled out of you. 
“Y/N” Rhys mumbled, sitting down next to you, arm now wrapped around you. “He’s going to be okay.” 
When he realized you would not acknowledge him until you felt satisfied with your orison, Rhys pulled you into a hug, waiting for you to finish. He does not know how long he sat there next to you, only that the sun was now high up in the sky. You slumped against him, still not letting go of Azriel's hand and started crying again. “You knew” he heard you say, and he felt a pang in his chest. He realized now that not only had you been hurt by Azriel, but he had hurt you as well. 
He nodded, “I’m sorry for keeping it from you.” He said “I was only doing what I thought best. I will let Azriel explain everything when he wakes up, I want you to hear it all from him. But just know I am sorry” 
He felt your body shake more violently at the mention of Azriel. “What if he doesn’t wake up?” you asked, voice small and filled with agony. 
“He will, Y/N. He will.” He pulled you away to look in your eyes, making sure you were taking in his words. “Madja and Helion have both guaranteed that he will wake up, his body just needs to heal.” 
You nodded, calming down slightly at his words. “How long has he been here?”
At this, he looked down, embarrassed to tell you he had kept yet another thing from you in hopes that Azriel could go to you himself and tell you he had gotten rid of the promise. “He has been here a few days, I-I didn’t take it would take long for him to wake up. I wanted him to be able to tell you.”
You only nodded, having already guessed as much, piecing together Azriel’s absence outside your door with his unconscious body. Later, you would give Rhys hell for keeping it from you, but currently you had no energy to fight. You leaned into his hug further, needing the comfort he provided and resigned yourself to waiting. 
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
It took three more days for Azriel to wake up, Rhys had briefly explained that the impact had been greater than it should have been because they had manipulated Elain into consenting to break the promise instead of her going willingly into it. You could feel the anger Rhys felt towards his sister in law as he explained- making sure you understood they had coerced her in a way not too unlike how she had done to Azriel when he made the promise. Your anger towards Azriel had diminished, you still wanted to hear what he had to say, but you were ready to forgive him. All you wanted was for him to wake up.
You were sitting next to Azriel, head nodding off in sleep. After almost four days of little to no  sleep, you were struggling to fight it off. Your eyes had fully shut and you could feel yourself drifting when you felt the hand you were holding twitch.
Immediately you gasped and sat up, watching with wide eyes as Azriel’s eyebrows furrowed. He seemed to battle with himself to wake up and once he finally did you stood up grabbing a cup of water for him. He looked at you with daze eyes and croaked out, “I’m sorry”
Your heart melted, his voice was barely there and you shushed him, raising the cup to his lips, urging him to drink some water. He gulped down the water you offered, pulling back to catch his breath, then he looked at you again, eyes filled with sorrow before he whispered again “I’m so sorry, my love”
You only nodded, too overwhelmed with emotion to form any words. Instead, you pushed everything you were feeling down the bond and in return Azriel poured all of his love. You could feel how sorry he was, his love for you, his sadness. His eyes watered at feeling the bond thrumming again, he had been convinced he would never feel it again and he thanked the mother for blessing him with such an amazing mate.
 “I’m sorry, I’m sorry” he kept mumbling, groggy from his week-long slumber and unable to form any other coherent sentences. 
You shushed him and cradled his face to your body, peppering his face with kisses wanting to convey how grateful you were for your mate. You stayed there, curled up against him the rest of the night, letting him know how much you loved him, your mate, who had risked his life to make things right. 
“I would do it again, for you, I would do anything” he murmured, head tucked in the crook of your neck, before drifting off into sleep again.
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onegirlatelier · 2 months
Text
April, 2024 | Shetland lace shawl
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Hi there! It’s been a while. I’ve been kept busy by all my university work…and this shawl.
The shawl is knitted to celebrate the wedding of my friend (now friends, I should say). A wedding is really the perfect excuse for all the heritage crafts and heirloom projects that might seem too serious to gift in other occasions. I did ask the recipient beforehand if she would like it, though, and I was so, so honoured that I got an enthusiastic ‘yes’. I’m sure this sentiment is shared by many makers, whatever gift they are making.
Shetland fine openwork, a knitted lace, seems to have emerged with the beginning of the reign of Queen Victoria, who championed and popularised the craft. It was probably spread from the Isle of Unst to other parts of Shetland. What surprised me the most when I first read about it was that Shetland shawls and other lace pieces were largely exported as luxury items and rarely worn by islanders themselves. Women bought yarn from spinners and knitted mostly in their homes. They then took them to local merchants and exchange the finished objects for goods or (commonly after the 1880s) money to supplement the household income. The ‘supplement’ nature of this work probably means it was not compensated as much as a job outside the home would be for the same hours and skills. Besides, it was not always easy to spin an even 1-ply yarn at 1600 metres per 100 grams. For a piece of knitting with a large ‘plain’ area (i.e. only knit stitches), the unevenness was impossible to hide but could only be discovered after the area was worked. Then the maker had to either frog (unravel) the area or continue with the risk of the whole piece not being able to sell.
Whilst it is very reasonable to point out that Shetland ladies did not usually wear this type of lace (I’ve been to the Scottish Highlands once, in summer, and it was not fine lace weather), I imagine that at least for some, it wasn’t just about making money. Some sort of fulfilment must have been from the satisfaction of having a piece ‘properly done’ by continuing and adapting a traditional pattern, technique or material. I think this sort of satisfaction is also why many modern knitters are willing to spend hundreds of hours on lacework.
Intricate handknitted lace items can still be bought today (a quick search on Etsy would show many are form eastern European countries with a long and prominent craft tradition), but many are knitted for friends or family members. It always makes me so happy to see people share the gifts they have made, whether big or small, simple or complex. I joke with my online craft friends that no handmade fibre project can claim to be so unless they have a hair or two woven into it. It is the proof of existence for the maker, who tries to go against the irregular nature of handicrafts and, at the same time, accepts it. It is about wrapping up hours, weeks or months in one’s life, along with the songs they have listened to and the perfume they have worn and the memories they have made, and putting it squarely in someone else’s hands and saying: ‘All this, for you.’
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A Wedding Shawl
I have not read anything about there being a standard form of ‘wedding shawl’ in the Shetland tradition. However, there is definitely a category of square shawls with similar sizes and a few construction methods. The samples I’ve seen mostly measure 1.5-2m on one side and have three parts: a central panel, four borders and a strip of edging. It is worked flat in garter lace from centre out.
Neither is there a standardised yarn weight. A widely available yarn is the Shetland Supreme Lace Weight 1-ply by Jamieson and Smith, which weighs at 400m/25g. The Queen Ring Shawl examined by Sharon Miller used a yarn at 700m/25g. From my experience, if you want the shawl to be a true ring shawl (i.e. you want to be able to pull the shawl through a ring) at the size of the Queen Ring Shawl (210cm on the side), go for 700m/25g or finer.
I chose a rectangular shawl because I had very limited time, but I did enlarge it because for me, an abundance of fabric does mean an abundance of cozy happiness.
Pattern
Shell Grid and Spider Webs Puzzle, pattern No.19 in the book Shetland Knitting Lace by Toshiyuki Shimada.
The names of the motifs are confusing. One motif (or two highly similar motifs) might just have two different names if they are produced in two different regions. Names do not mean everything, but I’ve had fun trying to match the motifs with names according to this article by Carol Christiansen at the Shetland Museum.
The double yarnovers (YO's) in the diamonds were called Cat's Eye, but perhaps the 'Spider Web' in the pattern name is referring to the three rows of double YO's in the centre panel. It has a really simple but effective edging.
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Yarn
Mermaid Lace, in colourway #naturel, sold by Great British Wool in the Netherlands. This yarn is 75% merino and 25% sea algae silk. ‘Sea algae silk’ seems to be a semi-synthetic plant fibre like viscose, with algae involved as part of the raw material. (At this price point I don’t think it has anything to do with sea silk, which is fibre produced by actual shells.) The brand name for the most popular product of its type is probably Seacell.
I bought the yarn, because I had never worked with this fibre before and was curious. What I like: it was a little cheaper than a wool/silk blend and has blocked very well. The whole skein was continuous so I didn’t have to deal with a single yarn joint. What I do not like: it lacks the sheen and smoothness of real silk and doesn’t feel as strong, although it doesn’t shed. In conclusion, I’d rather use a traditional Shetland 1-ply or another natural fibre yarn.
It's also worth mentioning that whilst I prefer to support small businesses, it was disappointing to have received a 93-gram skein when I had ordered 100 grams. It was one of those days between Christmas and the New Year and I somehow did not contact the customer service, but I really should have.
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Needle
2.5mm 80cm circular needles. See modification below.
Modification
This Japanese knitting book follows Japanese sizing for knitting needles. The suggested size was no. 1=2.4mm. I figured that I could use a 2.5mm since I knitted on the tighter side, and in any case it was probably okay to make the lacework a little more open by going up a needle size.
I am not going to give out the pattern, but it is probably necessary to explain the structure of this shawl. The centre is knitted first, and then an edging is knitted onto it by picking up either live stitches or the vertical edge of the centre as you go (see schematic below). The four ‘corners’ of the edging have short-row shaping to help it lay flat. I know that traditionally people can achieve this by other methods, but I haven’t tried any of those yet.
I enlarged the pattern by increasing both the width and the length. I casted on 133 stitches instead of 101 for the centre panel and knitted Part B 8.5 times instead of 5.5. The spider web pattern in Part B requires the stitch count to be (something dividable by four) plus two, so I made one central increase before the spider web to get 134 and a central decrease after it to get it back to 133. Due to the openness of the lace, the change of one stitch is not visible.
The enlargement meant I had to recalculate the edging as well, because the number of stitches available for pick-up changed. Originally, at each corner you do two repeats with four short-row shaping each. I did 1.5 repeats following the original placement of short-row shaping in order to make the total number of repeats fit the number of edge stitches on the centre panel.
The pattern says to Kitchener-stitch the last row of the edging to the provisional cast-on. It just didn’t make sense because that would be two rows too much (the Kitchener stitch row plus the provisional cast-on row). To make the number perfectly fit, I knitted only ten rows of the last repeat (there were usually twelve in each repeat). Then I Kitchener-stitched the end to the provisional cast-on, following the lace pattern. I am quite proud of this solution because it is completely invisible.
Somewhere in the pattern it said to purl (looking from the right side). It seemed strange because the rest of the lace was entirely garter. I knitted those stitches and so far I haven’t sensed a ‘mistake’.
The pattern originally calls for 45 grams of yarn. I estimated (based on the increase of stitches in the centre panel) to need about 80 grams. I ended up using 86 grams. Besides the inaccuracies in my estimation, it was probably also because I knitted much more loosely than expected as it was difficult to tension the yarn tightly at such a weight. Like I've point out in the Yarn section above, I was lucky not to have needed more than 93 grams.
The original finished size is 53*118cm. I ended up with approximately 70*170cm.
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Conclusion
This shawl took about three months of my craft time i.e. one full day every week for three months and many mornings before I had to leave for university. Knitting outside my room just didn’t work because I was a) engaged in some other activities that made it difficult to steady my hands, and b) worried about putting a white shawl on any public surface.
The pattern itself is relatively straightforward. The first difficulty was, of course, to understand the instruction written in Japanese. Google translate was horrible so I had to rely on my knitting experience. Fortunately, much of the text description was also found in graphs and charts. Then I had to get my hands used to the tiny yarn. After that, it was only fiddly when I did the edging, because I had to turn about every twelve stitches, and by that time I was handling a giant cloud of stitches on my lap. It did give me a lot of time to go over my favourite documentaries and films, and the last bit of edging was surprisingly quick!
Traditionally, Shetland shawls could be sent back to the maker for maintenance. I think it only fair for me to offer that too because I don’t want a gift to become a trouble (same as how you do not use non-machine-washable yarn for baby knits).
In general, I am very pleased with this shawl. It does pass the ring test, despite not being a traditional wedding shawl size or thickness. I do have a whole lot of actual Shetland 1-ply in my stash, so I am really looking forward to taking my Queen Ring Shawl project out of hibernation in the near future.
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Reference list for Introduction
Christiansen, Carol. Shetland fine lace knitting: Recreating patterns from the past. Marlborough: Crowood, 2024.
Mann, Joanna. 'Knitting the Archive: Shetland Lace and Ecologies of Skilled Practice'. Cultural Geographies 25, no. 1 (January 28, 2017): 91–106. https://doi.org/10.1177/1474474016688911.
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targaryenluvs · 7 months
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Hi, how are you? Could you make a request for Anthony Bridgerton 🙈 please.
I was thinking something along the lines of Penelope and Colin. When Colin says he would never court Penelope. But in this case Anthony tells Benedict that he would never court reader. And Benedict tells him that he will be the one to woo her. Sad ending or happy ending. I leave it in your hands 🤗✨.
Have a good week ✨ thank you.
i love this, and benedict bridgerton <3
nothing better
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pairing: benedict bridgerton x fem!reader, anthony bridgerton x fem!reader (platonic)
summary: benedict has loved you for so long, but he always assumed you’d want anthony and he wanted you. but when the opportunity presents itself to be with you he dives headfirst.
warnings: swearing, kisses??
a/n: hope you like itttt, it might be a little short but quality over quantity???: i love benedict ugh can’t wait for his season
the party was insufferable.
benedict wanted nothing more than to be at home, drawing, you specifically.
the day you learned of his talent you’d praised him every day for it. and you’d been pestering him for oh so long to draw your portrait but he always politely declined. believing a professional to be more accurate than himself but he honestly believed that he, nor any other, could incorporate all of your beauty in one sketch.
and he was scared of messing it up, and he also wondered what his brother would think.
anthony. smart, handsome, eligible, viscount anthony bridgerton.
the one you’d marry.
or so it seemed to everyone as the two of you danced hand in hand. everyone’s eyes were on the two of you as you practically glided across the floor. as the music slowed and the couples dispersed he found himself holding his breath as you came towards him.
“anthony is terrible to dance with, he keeps blaming me for stepping on his feet but he moves so slow at times, he’s always looking off into the distance.” you laughed as benedict smiled, “i promise you y/n, a dance with me will leave you more than well satisfied.” benedict teased as you gasped, “benedict bridgerton! the scandalous man you are.” as you laughed he couldn’t help but admire you. your hair was up with only two strands in the front, curled. a sweet tiara in the middle of your head, a gorgeous baby pink dress and and equally gorgeous owner.
“you look-”
“like a cake? a biscuit? a rose perhaps?” you joked.
“i was going to say breathtaking. you look, breathtaking, y/n. no one else here can compare.” he spoke in awe.
your eyes flickered to his, god he looked amazing. but he was probably only saying this to be nice right? his sisters friend, daphnes other half. nothing more, he grew up with you, saw you as a sister.
he wondered if you’d return the compliment, or thank him, or just smile and nod. god he said wanted more than a nod. you looked untouchable. and the way you looked at him, benedict was lost. not only in your eyes but in his head and heart. he sees you dance and talk to numerous respectable men every day. you smile and laugh, completely polite. but then you look at him, with those beautiful brown eyes and he looses all trains of thought. and as respectful as those other men are, he could never put himself in the same category as them.
because the thoughts that he didn’t loose, were truly inappropriate.
the heavy footsteps from behind you snapped the two of you out of the trance as anthony approached. “brother, lady y/n.” he smiled as you smiled back. “i’ll leave you two be.”
“are you alright brother?”
he didn’t mean to snap. the words just spilled out.
“are you going to court her or not?”
anthony’s brows furrowed as he was taken aback by his brothers direct manner, all sense of the usual playfulness was lost. “who? y/n? no of course not. i would never dream of courting y/n l/n. she’s like a sister to me.”
“then why do you dance with her so? take her out so often, promenade with her? for what? my god everyone thinks the two you are courting.” anthony released a breath he didn’t know he was holding.
he’d only been having fun with a friend. it was so refreshing to be able to talk to someone who didn’t wonder what the viscount was up to, who he was with, when he was going to marry. y/n eased his tensions and she the best friend he’d never had, she made him feel like a young boy again, which anthony had all but forgotten the feeling of.
“benedict, it was not my intention this i promise you brother. i know how much you love and if i led you or anyone else to believe our relationship was anything besides familial love and companionship than i truly apologise. you need to let her know before it’s too late.”
benedict felt his heart lurch at the idea of finally being with you. and with anthony’s blessing and urging him along he was off to find you.
the air was cold, but anything was better than that stuffy ballroom inside. gods you couldn’t wait for the season to be over. it was only your first, same as the diamond of the season, also known as your best friend daphne bridgerton but all the cakes, gossip, drama and fake smiles? you’d had enough to last forever. the only problem with the season being over was that you’d most likely be travelling to your country estate. which meant that you’d be spending time with your extended family rather than the family besides your own that you wanted to be with.
the person you wanted to be with.
“y/n! there you are.” benedict shouted as he bent over, catching his breath. even slightly sweaty and disheveled benedict was a god in your eyes, no one inside could even come close.
“ben, come sit!” you patted the swing next to you as he gladly sat down, the air was a refreshing after the long night he’d had, and your smiling face was enough for his heart to race again.
“y/n, as much as i’d like to sit and swing with you i have to tell you something, it’s urgent.” he spoke softly. the moon was bright, the air cold and benedict had a soft glow of light on his right side. his voice could so easily lull you to sleep out here as it had done so many times before but his eyes were alert, so you smiled again and nodded, “continue.”
“y/n, i’ve known you for so long. and i’ve- i’ve never been able to tell you how i truly feel about you. i always thought anthony had your eye and”
“anthony?!” you screeched as benedict hushed you with a hand over your mouth. “sweetheart you can’t be so loud out here, wouldn’t want someone to come across us now would we?” he joked as his eyes crinkled at the edges, now there’s the benedict you knew. “ben, i’ve never had romantic feelings for anthony, hes always been a brother to me. besides i’ve had my eye on another bridgerton for a long time.”
“oh? and who could that be?” benedict was praying to every god he could conjure in his head. me. me. me. let it be me please.
“you.”
he couldn’t help himself as he kissed you, he’d waited far too long for it.
and it was so worth it.
everything he couldn’t even begin to express with words, he put into the kiss, your first of many. “i love you. i love you y/n l/n and i can only pray you love me a quarter as much. you are everything i’ve ever wanted, and i have you now. you were family before but now? youre officially a bridgerton, we should throw a parade.” benedict laughed as you smacked his arm, “finally! my plan to marry daphne has been thrown into motion!”
“excuse me?” daphne shouted as yourself and benedict leaned into eachother, laughing up a storm.
there was nothing that could compare to the man infront of you.
nothing better.
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hua-fei-hua · 2 years
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Hey hey just wanted to let u know. Cause I saw ur post and figured u should get a reminder. Your writing is genuinely wonderful and funny. You've made at least one person very happy with ur fics! And I really appreciate you putting them out there for the world to see!
aww thank you!! this is genuinely such a touching and heartwarming ask to receive, it's like trying to stare at the sun hahaha
#Anonymous#asks#i meant to reply to this as soon as i got it but then a string of things happened and now it is hours later hahaha#anyway my ao3 inbox is pretty quiet these days bc a) not publishing often and b) recent works all anonymous#(so i assume you came here from my j/jk work obligatory token apologies for gnshn brainrot)#and i think as a result i've gotten a lot better at separating my writing quality or w/e from numbers n stats#n i also read a lot more fic than i did a few years ago so i see many more samples of excellent fic writing#and obvs as i've gotten older my quality cutoff standards for fic i'm willing to read has gone up so mostly i read recs#it's pretty easy to forget how good my writing is compared to average when i fail to even think of the chaff#when other fics i like in that same pairing/trope/category come to mind hahaha#thinking of applying to a zine this summer... i usually chicken out of applications bc. well before my writing didn't get much attn#so it was like 'oh i'm not a big name fan i don't stand a chance' but then jjk was kind of an ego boost#so a few months ago i mentioned always wanting to be in a zine but never applying bc i didn't think my writing was 'zine quality'#to a reader friend who then proceeded to hype me up n be like 'bro it's beeeeen zine quality' and ahaha that was good thanks kango#very proud to be able to say i'm very in love with a lot of my own writing these days!!! all the love n deliberation put into each word#when i was fourteen n first publishing fic i remember thinking 'as long as one person is reading i'll keep writing'#how nice it is to sit atop the mountain peak of your own making! the view you so admired as a child just as fresh and beautiful#as you dreamed it would be all those years ago~
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angelnthsnow · 4 months
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The Party & The After Party
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pairing: toto wolff x f!driver!reader
summary: after winning your first formula one race in your first year in the category, you don't think the day can get any better. fortunately, your boss has other plans for the night.
word count: 3.9k
warnings: age gap? it's never mentioned but it's there obvi, boss x employee, use of y/n, cursing.
author's note: i must say my friends have gotten me into formula one, but it's kinda hard paying attention to the cars when this man exists. i wrote this nonstop in the middle of the night, it's shorter than usual but i couldn't get the idea out of my head, so enjoy! i promise i'll post smth nfl related soon lol k bye!!
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In your first year as the first female F1 driver, you had done the impossible. Standing on the 1st place of the Monaco Grand Prix podium, adrenaline pumping through your veins, you looked down at everyone who had ever doubted you. Years of resisting attacks, sexist remarks and the constant need to prove yourself, you felt like you could finally breathe. By your side, stood two of the greatest drivers the sport had ever seen, Lewis Hamilton, your teammate, in P2, and Max Verstappen, in P3.
Your eyes wandered through the vast crowd that chanted your name from below, searching for the man who had made it all possible, your boss, Torger Wolff, the first person who took you seriously. Being a woman with hopes of getting into Formula One was exhaustingly hard, but everything started to change when you won the F3 Championship, a few years ago.
Paul, your teammate at the time, had told you that a certain team principal would come to the race that day, and although you kept telling yourself to not get your hopes up, every single attempt to do so went downhill when you saw the Mercedes team principal walking through the paddock like he owned the place.
To you, Mercedes was everything. Besides being one of the most modern teams, you also realized soon enough that Toto was probably the most open-minded out of all the other TPs on the grid. It was sad, of course, having such a little percentage of people who would be happy to see a woman in a position that was so dominated by men, but still, it lit up a flame in your chest, a string of hope you clung onto whenever you felt like giving up your dream.
That day, with him on the bleachers as you drove fearlessly around Spa-Francorchamps, you won the F3 championship, putting you on a watchlist of drivers that could get into F2.
Ever since that day, the austrian had kept an eye on you.
He saw how fiercely you fought to have a place, to have a voice and to be heard in a space ever so dominated by the opposite sex, and it didn't scare him, not one bit, he admired it. When you stood on that podium earlier, he didn't even bother hiding a smile, taking pictures and videos and chanting your name with the rest of the team as Lewis and Max sprayed the ridiculously expensive champagne on your back as you laughed.
That's why today, hours after winning your first ever F1 race on your first year in the category, he still couldn't get off the high he was on. He had finally gotten the confirmation he so desperately needed, not because he didn't believe you could do it, but because he was eager to prove everyone else wrong, to rip the smugness out of every single man who told you you didn't belong there.
At least that's what he had told you earlier through the radio before the lights went out, prove them wrong. He just didn't know you fought to reprimand a sob as you tried to concentrate in the lights that stood just above the Albert 1st Boulevard.
Now, Toto's eyes scanned every single corner of Jimmy'z searching for you, only to find you on the dance floor, pornstar martini in hand as you swayed to the beats of Empire of The Sun's We Are The People.
You had a smile on your face that could lit up a whole room, and he couldn't be prouder. Soon enough, your eyes met his and you chuckled, making a peace sign to point at your eyes and then at his as the line got lost in your eyes blasted through the club's speakers.
Even at distance, you could see him rolling his eyes and chuckling at your playful gesture, but still, he came closer, until the only thing in his field of vision was the visibly drunk version of you.
"You look happy." he leans down and forward to yell in your ear, making himself heard even if though the loud music made it hard to.
You squirm at the proximity, but brush it off by taking another sip of your drink. "I'm on top of the world, Toto. I don't think I've ever been happier." You yell back and he resists the urge to fight back a smile, presenting you with his pearly whites.
As one of the neon lights hit your face, he's forced to take in all of you. The version of you you'd put up whenever he'd tell you he had an important meeting he needed you to attend, or whenever you were needed to put up a show, like today.
You wore a black strapless dress, the one you'd seen a few weeks prior to the Grand Prix at Elie Saab's display window while you were on your daily night walk through Monaco. It was mesmerizing, with a shimmery type of fabric that would definitely make sparks fly if a bright light shined over it. You had thought of buying it, for days, really, but decided against it because party dresses were never a much needed piece of clothing in your wardrobe. Well, that until you told Lewis about the dress, and when you arrived at your apartment a few hours after the race, there it was, on a hanger hanging on the curtain rods.
As much as your looks prevented Toto from thinking about anything else, he couldn't help but notice how huge your pupils were, so big that it felt like your iris' were long gone. That and the fact that your sclera had shifted from white to a more reddish color.
He shifted on his feet, unaware of how to proceed. Were you.. high? Was that even a thing between sportspersons? Deciding on it being a matter that shouldn't be handled in front of the city's most congested place as of today, he mutters a "come with me" in your ear, putting a hand on your lower back as he guided you away from the crowd.
When he finally stops, you find yourself in a more private, smaller room with a few sofas and armchairs. He then proceeds to ask you "You've taken something. What is it?"
You laugh at his sudden concern. The answer was clearly a big red yes written in all caps, but part of you couldn't help but feel slightly ashamed at yourself. You had done it, yes, but now you felt sort of guilty, because the last thing you wanted was to damage his or the team's image. You shake your head, trying to to keep those thoughts away. It was just a party, a party for you, with only selected people being allowed in, it wasn't like you'd wake up to your name on the news.
"Come ooon.. don't be such a party pooper!" You slurred.
Toto was shocked by your reaction, part of him wanted you to celebrate as you wished, after all, you had just fulfilled a dream, but the other part, the responsible boss part craved an explanation, he didn't want you to cause any harm to your already fragile media image.
"Are you serious? You're the star of the entire team today! We have thrown a party just for you and you're getting off on drugs?" He says, lowering his voice on the last word as he crosses his arm.
"It's just a blunt, Toto. I swear I'm fine." Your laugh echoes throughout the small room as you grab his big arms, uncrossing them. "Don't get so serious on me." You look up at him through your lashes.
Toto gives you a stern look before a smirk creeps up on his face. The anger and seriousness fades away in an instant as he realizes the situation wasn't that serious. He sighs and looks at you with a sly, yet curious look. "How many? One, right?"
"Just one, sir." You say mischievously, holding your pinky finger up before kissing it to symbolize a promise.
Toto is taken aback as you kiss your pinky finger in a sarcastic manner, although he doesn't say anything. He looks at you with the same sly look as before. "I see... and have you done this before?"
"Who hasn't, duh?" You furrow your brows, flashing him a backward smile.
'He hasn't, of course. That's Torger Wolff we're talking about' you think to yourself as you look up at him. The soreness of your muscles and the pain of being on your feet for so long getting to you.
Sometimes it was kind of annoying having a conversation with your boss due to the fact that you had to look up the entire time, and countless were the times you found yourself with neck pain after hours of chatting. This conversation would surely be added to that imaginary countless list of yours, because even today, with high heels that could make you look six feet tall, he still looked way too big.
Toto chuckles before getting a playful look on his face. "Oh, really? I highly doubt the star of my F1 team has ever smoked a blunt before, although you do seem very knowledgeable about this." He moves closer to you, looking down at you as he speaks, his voice low and husky. You wondered if his neck ever went through the same problem yours did when you two talked, causing you to chuckle.
"I do?" You lift one eyebrow, narrowing your eyes. "Well, I must say.. the star of your precious F1 Team has done a lot, Mr. Wolff." It comes off more flirtatious than you intended, but you pay no mind to it. You try to take a step back, but end up slipping on the hem of your gown, the high getting to you later than ever.
Toto immediately rushes to you and catches you mid-air, wrapping his arms around your torso.
"Is that so?" Toto says, his voice now raspy and face close to yours.
You exhale deeply, relief from not having made an absolute mess out of yourself filling your body. If you had fallen, your dress would probably be completely torn apart and headlines would have a field trip with it.
He is still holding you, his hands burning on your back.
"Yeah.." You close your eyes, getting away from Toto's embrace as you regain balance and straighten yourself.
Toto steps back as you do so, although he does want to reach out to hold you again. Instead, he settles for engaging on more double entendre conversations with you.
His eyes are full of admiration, your body is more visible in this dress than it has ever been, and he makes a mental note to thank Lewis for the gift. He recalls the moment you two shared a few minutes ago, the way you swayed and jumped with the music like you were the only person in that dance floor would never fail to amaze him.
"You truly do look like a notorious celebrity in this dress, don't you?" He finally says, a hint of shyness in his tone, although the look in his face is stern.
"You could thank your other driver for that." You joke, trying to hide the butterflies that swarmed in your stomach.
"I certainly will." he smiles, his gaze softening as his eyes meet yours. They're still red, but it starts to grow on him.
Looking at you like this, completely wasted, happy and carefree, he couldn't help but remember the afternoon you two had met, when he started to be so sure you'd be by his and Lewis' side on a race weekend one day.
Now, there you were, in front of him, with a trophy standing somewhere back in your apartment. "I'm so proud of you." he finally says, not because he thinks you should hear it, but because it's all he wants to say to you after today's events.
You look away from him shyly. You had heard it before, specially from him, but every single time felt like fireworks in your belly. Him being proud of you was capable of putting you on a whole another level, it was just another signal that you had made it, that you had proved you were capable, even to those who were always so sure you definitely were.
You try to hide a smile as you mutter a simple thank you, because in this state, visibly high and drunk, staring at the man who had made it all possible, it's all you manage to say.
He smiles back at you, and your mind almost short circuits when he steps closer, not stopping even when you can feel his breath close to your face. That's when you realize he's about to hug you, and you just let him.
It's genuine, simple yet abnormally meaningful. His big hands rest crossed on your lower back as he pulls you closer, making your cheeks rest on his suit covered chest. You almost feel like crying, because how could you not? You had it all now, a place in the sport you so desperately craved to have since you were a kid, a win, an amazing teammate and an even more amazing boss, who believed in you through your entire career.
"You've done it." He says quietly as if you're a wild animal that would run away at any abrupt movement or sound. "I can't even imagine how you feel."
On cloud nine, that was the most appropriate answer.
"It's like nothing I've ever felt." you say, arms hugging his chest. "Thank you for always believing in me, you have no idea how much you've done for me." you sniff, clearly on the verge of tears.
"It's nothing compared to what you deserve. You're one of the greats, Y/N. The whole world's gonna know you name." he says, causing the tears you so eagerly fought to keep off to fall rapidly on your cheeks. You sniff, opening your eyes to see that a small wet circle had formed on Toto's shirt.
"Shit, sorry." You laugh awkwardly as you take a step back, desperately trying to dry your tears with your fingers before they ruined your makeup too.
"Hey, it's fine." He steps closer again, bringing his thumb to your face as he continues your job of drying the tears you had shed. Once he's done, his hands linger there for a bit longer than they needed to, stroking your cheeks. You thank the Gods for whatever the hell he was on today. "You do look pretty when you cry, though I must say I prefer the way you look on top of a podium, with champagne drenched hair and a first place trophy in hand."
You roll your eyes, as if it was possible to fall even more in love with him. It had become stupid at this point, really. Clearly the two of you had something special, to say the least, going on, but none of you were courageous enough to come clean about this.
"You aren't a bad view from up there as well." You shoot back, earning a smile in return.
The shameless and obvious flirtation to whoever watched from outside continued for a few minutes, until Toto insisted that you should go back to your party, and although at this point you had decided to give up the celebrations to look at him for the rest of night, there he was, once again with his hand on your lower back, guiding you through the crowd back to where he initially had seen you. Doesn't take long for you to get lost in the music, dancing like there was no tomorrow. Toto had excused himself to greet other team members and sponsors, fulfilling the ultimate boss role even at parties, and stealing glances from you every now and then while talking to someone.
A few drinks later, the club was getting more empty by the minute, the clock almost hitting 4:30 a.m. Your makeup was already lightly smudged, your black Louboutins long gone in the corner you once laughed with your friends. As you thanked the remaining people for coming, Toto showed up again, startling you as he came from behind, putting his right hand in your shoulder.
"Seems like the party has reached an end." he says, making you look up at him. His face was fairly red, and by the way he slurred his words, you could tell he was somewhat drunk. His hair was messier than earlier and the tie that was once a fancy bow was now untied, resting around his neck, a nice combination to his slightly unbuttoned shirt.
"Unfortunately. I hope you had fun, though." you reply, turning your attention to shake some of your guests' hands.
"It's always fun with you around." He says as he smiles to the same people shaking your hands.
You crookedly smile, turning around to walk to your table. As you do so, he follows.
"Do you need a ride? I saw you coming in with Bradley, but he already left," He watches you as you walk through the empty club, employees cleaning the floor of what was once the party of a lifetime. "guess parties aren't really his thing." He chuckles.
"I don't wanna make you take me home now, it's late and you're probably very tired."
"Oh, please, it's Monaco. Not like I'm going to be driving for hours." He replies, earning you a laugh. You and Toto lived pretty close to each other, but you'd drive past his building before getting to yours, so you truly didn't want him to make a huge detour just because of you.
"Fine," you smile, grabbing your sparkly clutch. "just please tell me you came with your 300sl roadster." You say and he chortles, rolling his eyes.
The Mercedes 300SL Roadster owned by Toto was probably one of your favorite cars in his collection. Hell, in anyone's collection. It's such an incredibly classy vehicle you couldn't resist its charm.
"I did." He says, and you let out a slightly loud yes! as he grabs your scarpins, laughing at your reaction. The way the smallest things were capable of making you happy always made him smile. Even after closing a multi-millionaire deal with your team, some things would never fail to make you excited, such as being driven home in a car you've always wanted.
The both of you start to walk towards Jimmy'z's exit in a different sort of haze, like the two of you were in your own little world together, laughing and exchanging inside jokes. The dry warm Monaco summer air hits you as soon as you step out, and soon the vallet comes driving Toto's car, opening the door for you to get in.
As the both of you get in, he starts driving, the sound of the car's engine echoing throughout Princesse Grace Avenue. Duke Dumont's Ocean Drive in the radio as your hair flies due to the speed in which Toto's driving. Now and then, he casually glances at you, smiling at the way you still manage to dance even when sitting on the passenger's seat.
Despite being a race weekend, the city seemed awfully quiet and empty at this time. Soon enough, he takes a turn and you're finally in Larvotto, which meant in a few seconds he'd be pulling up at your home. However, before he had the chance to, you saw the sun rising in distance, its warm light gleaming in the sea water.
"Toto, look!" you point to the horizon, and he slows the car down to follow your gaze. "It's so beautiful.."
"Indeed it is.." he says, and you can tell by his tone he's got a change of plans coming. When you realize, he's parking the car in the shore, exiting the vehicle to open the door for you. "Come on, let me give you a real after party."
You smile, because there was no way the day could get any better. You were sure you'd wake up later convincing yourself this had been a dream. Taking your hand, he pulls you out of the car, and after you close the door, he runs towards the sea, fingers intertwined with yours.
In this moment, you force yourself to forget about all of the implications and concerns that could come at you. In this moment, it was just you and Toto, not a Mercedes driver and the Mercedes' Team Principal. To anyone else who'd catch a glimpse of the scene, the both of you looked like stupid, reckless teenagers in love.
Sitting on the sand, you try to catch your breath, stomach hurting due to you not being able to stop laughing. You lay your head on his broad shoulders, hands holding his arm.
Suddenly, he feels the need to confess, "I'm always so happy when I'm around you" with the german accent getting heavier as it always did when he was drunk.
You smile, "Me too."
A beat, and then, "You're the most amazing woman I've ever known."
It comes lower than he intends to, but he's also never felt so nervous around someone as he does now. You thank the heavens for the fact that he's not looking at you, you look like a kid stupidly in love.
"You don't need to say that," you sigh. "you've already told me you're proud of me for today."
"I know. I'm not saying it because I feel the need for it to be said, but because I truly think that." he replies. "Ever since that day in Spa, you've proven to be an extremely fierce, fearless, wonderful driver and an even more amazing woman." You roll your eyes at his compliments. "I mean it, Y/N." He grabs your attention just by saying your name, making it all even more real. "Mercedes is extremely lucky to have you, and so am I." he looks at you, his face closer than ever as yours rest on his shoulder.
"You have me?" You say, looking at him through your lashes.
"I like to think I do. Do I?"
"Utterly." You giggle, your eyes glowing just by looking at him.
His hands go to cup your face, and the last thing you'd expect from him happens. At first, his lips brush over yours lightly, as if he's asking for permission, testing the waters to see if he's allowed to go further. When you don't protest, he deepens the kiss, sweeping you off your feet.
The both of you laugh, and you hide your now completely red face in his chest. "You have no idea how long I've waited for this." you say, feeling his body hairs stand on end.
"You have no idea how long I've waited to do this." he says, and you shed a tear on his partially shirt covered chest. "Are you crying?" He asks, and when he hears you sniff, he takes it as a yes. "Hey, don't cry. Look." he lifts your chin up, making you stare at the scene unfolding in front of your eyes.
The sunrise looked like a piece of art, with pinkish and yellow tones coloring the sky. Toto puts an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer. You could now add having him at your list as well.
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books · 6 months
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Writer Spotlight: Jamie Beck
Jamie Beck is a photographer residing in Provence, France. Her Tumblr blog, From Me To You, became immensely successful shortly after launching in 2009. Soon after, Jamie, along with her partner Kevin Burg, pioneered the use of Cinemagraphs in creative storytelling for brands. Since then, she has produced marketing and advertising campaigns for companies like Google, Samsung, Netflix, Disney, Microsoft, Nike, Volvo, and MTV, and was included in Adweek Magazine’s “Creative 100” among the industry’s top Visual Artists. In 2022, she released her first book, An American in Provence, which became a NYT Bestseller and Amazon #1 book in multiple categories, and featured in publications such as Vogue, goop, Who What Wear, and Forbes. Flowers of Provence is Jamie’s second book.
Can you tell us about how The Flowers of Provence came to be?
I refer to Provence often as ‘The Garden of Eden’ for her harmonious seasons that bring an ever-changing floral bounty through the landscape. My greatest joy in life is telling her story of flowers through photography so that we may all enjoy them, their beauty, their symbolism, and their contribution to the harmony of this land just a bit longer. 
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(Photograph: Jamie Beck)
How do your photography and writing work together? Do you write as part of your practice?
I constantly write small notations, which usually occur when I am alone in nature with the intention of creating a photograph or in my studio working alone on a still life. I write as I think in my head, so I have made it a very strict practice that when a thought or idea comes up, I stop and quickly write the text in the notes app on my phone or in a pocket journal I keep with me most of the time. If I don’t stop and write it down at that moment, I find it is gone forever. It is also the same practice for shooting flowers, especially in a place as seasonal as Provence. If I see something, I must capture it right away because it could be gone tomorrow. 
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(Photograph: Jamie Beck)
You got your start in commercial photography. What’s something you learned in those fields that has served you well in your current creative direction?
I think my understanding of bridging art and commerce came from my commercial photography background. I can make beautiful photographs of flowers all day long, but how to make a living off your art is a completely different skill that I am fortunate enough to have learned by working with so many different creative brands and products in the past. 
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(Photograph: Jamie Beck)
Do you remember your first photograph?
Absolutely! I was 13 years old. My mother gave me her old Pentax 35mm film camera to play with. When I looked through the viewfinder, it was as if the imaginary world in my head could finally come to life! I gave my best friend a makeover, put her in an evening gown in the backyard of my parents’ house in Texas, and made my first photograph, which I thought was so glamorous! So Vogue!
You situate your photographic work with an introduction that charts the seasons in Provence through flowers. Are there any authors from the fields of nature writing and writing place that inspire you?
I absolutely adore Monty Don! His writing, his shoes, and his ease with nature and flowers—that’s a world in which I want to live. I also love Floret Flowers, especially on social media, as a way to learn the science behind flowers and how to grow them. 
How did you decide on the order of the images within The Flowers of Provence?
Something I didn’t anticipate with a book deal is that I would actually be the one doing the layouts! I assumed I would hand over a folder of images, and an art director would decide the order. At first, it was overwhelming to sort through it all because the work is so personal, and I’m so visual. But in the end, it had to be me. It had to be my story and flow to be truly authentic. I tried to move through the seasons and colors of the landscape in a harmonious way that felt a bit magical, just as discovering Provence has felt to me. 
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(Photograph: Jamie Beck)
How do you practice self-care when juggling work and life commitments alongside the creative process?
The creative process is typically a result that comes out of taking time for self-care. I get some of my best ideas for photographic projects or writing when I am in a bath or shower or go for a long (and restorative) walk in nature. Doing things for myself, such as how I dress or do my hair and makeup, is another form of creative expression that is satisfying. 
What’s a place or motif you’d like to photograph that you haven’t had a chance to yet?
I am really interested in discovering more formal gardens in France. I like the idea of garden portraiture, trying to really capture the essence and spirit of places where man and nature intertwine. 
Which artists do you return to for inspiration?
I’m absolutely obsessed with Édouard Manet—his color pallet and subject matter. 
What are three things you can’t live without as an artist?
My camera, the French light, and flowers, of course. 
What’s your favorite flower to photograph, and why?
I love roses. They remind me of my grandmother, who always grew roses and was my first teacher of nature. The perfume of roses and the vast variety of colors, names, and styles all make me totally crazy. I just love them. They simply bring me joy the same way seeing a rainbow in the sky does. 
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(Photograph: Jamie Beck)
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httpsryu · 3 months
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b.f.s (best friend's sister) pt. 1
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pairing: mo jihye x fem!reader
summary: it was always a thing, noticing your best friend's older sister. ever since you were a young girl.
category: strangers-to-friends-to-lovers au
genre: fluff, slight angst (?)
warnings: JEALOUSY
a/n: thanks for the anon who requested this! i had so much fun writing this :)
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'it's only a year in the name of love'; you tell yourself as you cannot help but to look at your best friend's older sister, jihye who walks past you two and into the kitchen to grab a quick snack.
sure, you know jihye would never return your feelings back (hell, she doesn't even know about them) but it never hurts to dream a little bit over the beyond, right?
"earth to y/n~" your best friend, mo maya hits your head with her pen to grab your attention.
HUH??
"was i zoning out again?" you ask with a grin, already knowing you were in fact daydreaming about mo jihye.
maya nods with her signature upside down smile. "if you keep zoning out, we'll never get done with this science homework."
why is sophomore year so hard? especially, with the dreadful chemistry homework the teacher is constantly assigning.
"you two alright over there?" jihye comes out from the kitchen, her hand holding a bowl full of strawberries. "do you need help?"
maya groans, shaking her head as she grips on the pen. "i want to try to do this myself."
"suit yourself." jihye shrugs, turning to you. "y/n, do you need any help?"
locking eyes with THE mo jihye has got to be one of the best dreams come true, yet alone, this moment of her talking to you is also another dream come true. you cannot help but to nod at the older, scooting over to make room for the other to sit besides you.
jihye lets out a small smile, placing her bowl on the table next to your books before sitting down on the floor.
"hmm, let's see." she leans just a bit closer to you, however, you could smell the florals and a slight sandalwood scent exhibiting from her. "ahh, i remember how to do this."
jihye opens her hand out, waiting for you to drop your pen in.
"huh?" you let out, about to put your own hand in.
the other girl can't help but to laugh at your cuteness. "silly, i meant your pen."
'fuck my life' you curse to yourself mentally, handing the pen to her while feeling heat rush upon your face.
jihye smiles at you, giggling a little bit at how adorable you looked.
'cute.' she can't help but to think to herself, looking at you with adoration. (like a little sister, of course)
maya groans again, constantly erasing the blank line which at this point, is no longer existing. "i need a small snack break, do you want anything, y/n?"
you look up at your best friend, shaking your head at her. "thank you though."
"anytime darling." maya sticks her tongue out, running off into their kitchen.
jihye scoots her bowl of strawberries to you. "your favorite strawberries! here, have some."
"oh. i'm okay, thank you unnie." you smile at the girl besides you.
the older nods, trying to ignore the slight sadness of you rejecting her strawberries by looking back down at the question. "okay, for this one, all you have to do is balance the redox reaction by..."
you blank out, zoning out as you look at the older girl's delicate yet strong features. from her dark yet stunning eyes, her precious moles, her delicate but very standing cheekbones and how her lips always had the pretty shine to them.
it's no fair for the entire universe because mo jihye simply exists.
"do you understand it now?"
HUH? OH-
you take a few seconds to process the fact that you just zoned out again. daydreaming about jihye in front of her! how embarrassing is that?
"ohh, i see!" you lie, hoping she would not question you about it further.
putting the pen down, jihye proudly grins. "great! if you need extra help on anything else, let me know. you already know where my room is so just knock and i'll be here."
"thanks unnie." you shyly say, looking down at your homework.
jihye can't pinpoint how you feel about her. do you not like her? she's always have tried becoming closer to you, ever since she met you while she was 8 and you were 7. now, you guys are 17 and 16.
surely, she would think that you two would've been closer by now, however, you seem to be a bit distance and precautious around her.
"oh. of-of course." jihye manages to say without sounding a bit too upset. "i'll see you around, y/n."
you watch as the love of your life descended up the stairs, letting out a dreamy sigh afterwards. "jihye unnie is so pretty."
however, each moment cannot go unwasted without another one of maya's groan.
"why is there never any ice cream left?" maya exclaims, shutting the freezer with a slam before coming out the kitchen with oreos and pretzels.
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you wait, in the usual place where you'll see jihye past by ONCE daily throughout the whole school.
"can we just go now?" kyujin whines, begging to leave for lunch already.
you turn to her with a glare, prompting her to sigh and sit down on the stairs.
"let y/n get her daily one glimpse of jihye." eunchae defends you, scanning the halls for any sign of maya.
maya doesn't know, she never noticed at all. even when you two were children. and she never will know. liking mo jihye is a secret from maya because you know maya won't tolerate it.
but then again; love makes you crazy, right?
at least that's what eunchae argues.
"in 5,4,3,2,1..i see her!" you exclaim, watching from the end of the hallway of jihye walking out with some friends.
kyujin and eunchae looks at how smitten you are, giggling at the way your eyes fall in love with jihye.
"she looks amazing." you barely manage to let out, noticing the way her hair is tied up into a high ponytail, the uniform she wore today compliments her complexion, and the light gloss on her lips always sealed the day for you.
eunchae reaches to tap on your shoulder, exclaiming. "maya's coming over here."
you really don't want to keep this a secret from maya, but having a liking towards her older sister is something you know maya will never let go of.
"act normal, act normal." kyujin clears her throat, taking out her portable mirror to fix her bangs.
your best friend spots you from across the hall, waving at you as her eyes lit up with love.
"you guys know you don't have to wait for me every day, right?"
you shrug, grabbing her arm to hook with yours. "why wouldn't we?"
okay; maybe you were here to see jihye but waiting for maya is also a plus. killing two birds with one stone, right?
"okay, i am starving!" kyujin whines even more, stomping her feet.
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jihye comes back from school, expecting to see both you and maya sprawled out in the living room as usual. however, upon opening the door, jihye is met with just her sister.
"oh? no y/n?" jihye asks, taking off her shoes.
the younger sister makes a weird incoherent noise (no surprise there). "a girl asked her out today."
stopping in her tracks of untying her laces, jihye looks up. "a girl?"
maya raises one of her brows up, brushing off the weird reaction from her sister. "yeahh..? she's new, i'm sure it's for help around the library since she works there with y/n now."
"oh. cool."
"yep! anyways, wanna hang out and go for some ice cream?" the younger turns off the t.v, hoping her sister would want to spend time with her today.
jihye contemplates, for a second, she wanted to say no and lock herself in her room to figure out who this new girl is but she ultimately nods. "just let me change out of the uniform and we can head out."
"awesome!" maya smiles excitedly, jumping off from where she was sitting earlier and rushing over to put her shoes on. "we can go to the new shop y/n keeps raving about."
y/n.
jihye does not understand why but her heart has a weird ting at the sound of your name. she wishes you were here to go out and enjoy ice cream with them. she wants you to acknowledge her, to get rid of that awkward weird air around you two.
but, she can't figure out how.
"you're paying, right sis?" the small glint in maya's eyes leads jihye to exclaim a loud laugh.
jihye pats the younger's head. "yes, my treat."
"awesome, i did NOT have any money to my name."
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"why did miss. lee gave us so many boxes to sort through?" you grumble to haerin, stretching out your arms after sitting down for a long period of time. "she normally gives us two boxes MAX."
haerin makes a noise in agreement, however her eyes are focusing on you and only you. she loves when you wear that pink bow in your hair, it looks really pretty on you.
"how are you adjusting to school?" you curiously ask, getting up from the chair as you start to tidy up the back room of the library.
the raven-haired girl sighs, folding the boxes flat so it would be easy to recycle. "it's nice, it's just hard making friends."
"that's because you're a shy, quiet, pretty girl." you respond, returning to the middle table to pick up the new books to stack at the back. "i had to introduce myself to you first."
haerin feels her heartbeat racing again, very loudly too. "you think i'm pretty?"
"uh huh! you're cute too! maybe that's why people are intimated to come up to you, i get it though." you giggle, looking back at your friend. "you know, my friends have been telling me about how they've been wanting to become closer to you."
"i don't know about that..y/n.." haerin comes over to you, handing you another stack of new books. "it's just crowded, you know?"
haerin is a really introverted girl, you understand her.
"the vibes is getting depressing in here, haha." haerin giggles, looking at the time on her phone. "we finished pretty early, do you wanna go grab some ice cream? my treat."
at the sound of ice cream, you could've sworn you heard birds chirping a beautiful tune. "um yes!! there's this new shop that my brother and i go to often!"
"well, looks like we're going there." haerin smiles softly at the way you look excited, she can't help but to continue staring.
you laugh, scanning the room as fast as you could before grabbing your backpack. "everything looks good here! front desk looks good too."
"guess the ice cream is calling us." the raven-haired female slings her backpack around, waiting for you to link your arm with hers. "let's go."
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jihye blinks. once. twice. and once more.
WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE WITH A GIRL?
"oo, looks like haerin is finally making her moves." maya giggles behind her hand, looking afar from the entrance of the ice cream shop. "aww, wait, they're kinda cute."
haerin. cute? moves?
jihye doesn't like the sound of this at all.
how old is this haerin girl anyways? is she senior or some college freshie? why is she even allowed to make moves on you?
why has maya not said anything about this haerin girl to her until now? you're like a younger sister to jihye too!
"so..this haerin girl in your grade or something?" jihye asks, pulling out her wallet as she scans the ice cream options.
cookies and cream. you love cookies and cream.
"yeah, she's really quiet." maya replies, her eyes onto both haerin and you. "but, y/n tells us that haerin actually talks and laughs a lot."
you do have that effect on people. jihye just wishes you were more like that with her. is it because she's maya's OLDER sister? jihye doesn't think the one-year age difference isn't the cause of it but could it?
"can i have on scoop of cookies and cream and one scoop of dark chocolate?" jihye gets her card out of her wallet, trying to not think too much of you.
maya giggles, seeing the way haerin's eyes are melting with adoration for you. "look at her! she's basically in love!"
"woah! you guys are too young for love." jihye says with a slight weirdness in her tone, handing the card to the cashier. "besides, you should be focusing on trying to pass chemistry."
maya groans in response. "UGHH, you're only a year older than us."
"besides, i don't think y/n's the type to like someone at the moment." jihye is telling herself a lie, she doesn't even know if you are or aren't interested in all that romance stuff so why does she get to say that about you?
the younger nods, agreeing with her sister. "true. but, haerin can change that hehe."
"oh please." jihye rolls her eyes, handing the scoop of dark chocolate to maya before returning to the worker. "thank you!"
maya scans where to sit, contemplating on scoping in on the date or giving you two privacy since she knows how haerin is as a person.
"let's leave those two alone." maya is about to walk off into a different direction before jihye grabs her wrist.
"wait, let's sit kind of far from them but enough to check out what's going on over there." the brunette haired squints her eyes at how haerin is offering a spoonful of her ice cream to you.
maya raises one of her brows up, AGAIN! why is her sister acting so weird right now?
"i think we should just sit somewhere us..." maya trails off, not wanting to make her sister upset.
the older one ignores the younger, already making her way to a seat that's close enough yet far to spy on both you and haerin. (jihye is just being an overprotective older sister, right? RIGHT?)
upon sitting down, jihye watches as you accepted the spoonful of ice cream from haerin.
"NO!" jihye screams, afraid of you perhaps getting sick from the shared germs.
maya sighs, facepalming herself as she tries to hide her face from you.
you hear a specific voice; well known voice to you, perhaps, your favorite voice. "jihye unnie?"
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ehehehe; not me stopping on a cliffhanger :P
march 23rd, 2024; publishing date
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