collar and tie

3 Chains O’ Gold

Released August 16, 1994

If you haven’t seen 3 Chains O Gold, I’m going to need you to seek it out immediately because it is one of Prince’s most glorious accomplishments. Released in 1994, it expands on the Love Symbol album and attempts to give us Mayte’s back story, I guess? Either way it’s a real treat, so lets get right to my attempt to break down what’s going in this beautiful mess.

Opening Credits
First of all, I wanted to make this not too terribly long and include only events relevant to the plot, but it’s worth noting that the “Warner Reprise Video” is arguably the MOST DATED LOGO IN HISTORY. If this doesn’t scream 1994 at you, I guess you weren’t alive then. If anyone from the future is like “what were the 90s like?” just show them this 10 second clip.

We open with the credits over several clips of what I’m confident is a show on the Paisley Park soundstage, with Prince in a glorious halter top backless jumpsuit, but that’s not important right now - we cut to Princess Mayte in Egypt doing her thing, which I guess is skinny dipping with four nameless women who call her Mai Tai? Either way, full nudity right out of the gate, interspersed with clips of who we find out is her father being stabbed. She holds him as he dies of one stab wound, which I guess you would if no doctor was called. Oh well, dead forever, so she grabs her title 3 Chains O Gold from a vault and we go from Cairo, Egypt, to Minneapolis, Minnesota! Unclear where Mayte is now staying, but it appears to be a small barren room with only candles and a small tv, which is playing Kirstie Alley reporting on a riot in the same alley where conveniently half of Graffiti Bridge takes place.

My Name is Prince
The chain hat is here! As is an extended rap from Tony M, while Prince dances atop several cars in an inexplicably damp alley. He’s so stompy! Mayte has apparently seen this on the news and made her way through the crowd to hand him a bedazzled VHS case containing what is revealed to be the actual tape of her performance on That’s Incredible AS AN 8 YEAR OLD. This is problematic at best, but he’s interrupted by Tony M’s insistence that they have a car party to attend to.

Originally posted by ripopgodazippa


Sexy MF
The car party turns out to be the members of the NPG playing cards in the smoke filled garage of Paisley Park, and their involvement is that Prince shows up, demands 3 women leave with himself, Tony M and Kirky J, and then ridicules the rest of his band for a little bit. Kind of an asshole, but also… have you seen him in this?? Looking like a real snack. Forgiven. Moving on. My favorite thing about all Prince stories is that it’s like, Prince wants the girl, Prince gets the girl, and this is no different. Prince and his gold gun microphone want Troy Beyer in her pearl cage dress (can you call that a dress?) as they make out in various hotel hallways.  They go to the movies and make out for a bit and engage in some heavy petting, but Troy knows something is up and that there’s someone else (spoiler alert, it’s Mayte), and he responds with a very intent Purple Rain-esque moody stare.

Originally posted by snazzyskeletor

Originally posted by snazzyskeletor


Love 2 the 9s
Mayte gets a card slipped under her hotel room door with audition times for the NPG, so I guess Love 2 the 9s is her audition?? But wait, some of the NPG guys are in jail slash Prince’s office at Paisley. This is like… the Hard Times, if the Hard Times had a budget? Anyway it would appear that the audition is a photoshoot, with Prince in the highest of high waisted red pants and an open lace bolero top. Again, he looks DECADENT. I digress. Tony M proceeds to interview Mayte with some inane questions, until she is is finally permitted to make the booty boom. Thank god. Sidebar: her makeup!!!!! So perfectly 90s, complete with a brown lip and thin eyebrows. Perfection.

Morning Papers
Cut to the zoo! Why?? I DON’T KNOW. Here’s P and Mayte walking through the zoo hand in hand, being real sweet paired with a song that makes the whole thing problematic, but again, choosing to overlook the whole “why is age more than a number” with a shot of Mayte riding on a carousel. YIKES. Cut to Paisley Park where P is dressed in white pants, white heels, a floor length white trench coat, and a SLEEVELESS PLAID FLANNEL SHIRT unbuttoned all the way down to his waist. This is a GOOD. LOOK. Someone has been working out, and he is eager to show it off. Ugh back to the carousel for some kind of trippy sequence involving Mayte whispering into a mirror in a Blossom hat.

The Max
Dramatic cut to footage of what I’m pretty sure is one of the 1993 Radio City Music Hall shows from the Love Symbol tour mixed with some backstage footage and whatever was shot at Paisley. Prince’s ability to create euphamisms and use them like literally anyone else in the world would ever even bother never fails to amuse me. He’d like to “shuffle the cards in that stack!” …. okay. Before or after you drive me/us/Mayte to Tennessee? Anyway I guess this is to show she did indeed get the job? Here’s a picture from one of the Radio City shows because one I can’t get a good screen cap, and two it’s important for…. reasons.

Blue Light
I’m not sure whose bedroom we are in, but Prince is sitting there I guess waiting for Kirstie Alley to call so he can hang up on her. You can tell this video was shot later than most of the other footage as his typhoon is really out of control here and reached peak mushroom, but it’s fine since it’s mostly face close ups of him and Mayte as they roll around on a bed while she rejects his advances. Girl. Get your shit together. Also he’s wearing light pink silk pajamas. Or it could just be a regular suit he wears on stage, jury still out, either way it looks comfy af and I’d like one.

I Wanna Melt With U
Aw man. Mayte falls asleep, while Prince packs a suitcase with all his essentials for a tour (chains, a chain hat, and one shirt) and sneaks out. This is my favorite thing, omg. So Mayte has fallen into a fitful sleep and is currently having a sexual nightmare about her flirtatious encounter with P that involves a lot of naked ladies distorted in funhouse mirrors and Prince wearing maybe boxer shorts?? Umbros??, a black and white vertical striped robe, and ROLLER SKATES. Not only roller skates, but knee pads as well because even when you are haunting someones dreams in a sexual way, safety first. Oh also flashbacks to dad. There is SO MUCH GOING ON HERE, my god. I would pay good money to be haunted by Prince on roller skates and safety pads in my dreams, I tell you what.

Sweet Baby
Mayte wakes up from her nightmare to realize P has left her with a note that says only “Sweet baby don’t cry.” Wait I thought she was in the band, but he went on tour without her? From Minneapolis, to Japan, by train? Unclear. Anyway she packs her bags and stands despondent, weeping on some train tracks for the duration of the song until she hops on a plane back to Egypt to be a princess again.

The Continental
Prince arrives by train in Tokyo, where he is visibly distraught and his band starts talking shit about him as they have a pre-show gambling sesh? The Ghost of Mayte shows up to haunt him during soundcheck where he is again very Purple Rain levels of pensive and moody, but NOT IN THE SHOW! The Continental is 3 Chain’s O Gold’s Darling Nikki - overtly sexual, many thrusts incorporated into the dancing, lots of face touching with finger flutters, proving he doesn’t require his main love interests attention, he can get it from anyone anywhere, and they’ll thank him for it. Ok so here we have two seemingly concurrent events happening I think? One is Mayte dancing in Egypt, while Prince gets some in his chain hat. This is legit a porn at this point, wait why does he have a sword??? Anyway so again with the making out and the heavy petting, but right as it gets started, Mayte has been overcome with… I don’t know, but she collapses, and Prince is simultaneously unable to perform sexually. I think to show they are spiritually connected??? Do I GET Prince’s visions now?????? I am so proud.

Damn U
Back in Egypt, an old man tells Mayte she looks like a girl he used to bang. Okay. Prince has returned to Paisley Park where he is performing a one man show for a dinner party in the sound stage, I think. Again, a real treat. Black jumpsuit with a white collared shirt & white tie, yes this is a good look. Oh Tommy Barbarella must have gone on a cruise to the Bahamas on the way back, he has some hair wraps and braids now. Ugh that baritone. Damn U, damn me, this song is so good. Here’s a screen shot that could double as his Bar Mitvah photo.

Mayte has received a letter!! It’s the lyrics to Damn U. Her reaction is to go to her dress maker to get a fancy coin dress, and then hop on the next flight to LA, where they will be shooting the 7 music video, but not before there is a 5 minute segment with members of the NPG talking shit about Mayte. No, really. First up is Tony M and his date, who is Mayte? Where did she come from, what did she do? The rest of the NPG is in the gym, also talking shit about her??!! WHY IS THIS INCLUDED. I guess to show he loves her in spite of his entire band hating her? Michael Bland wants to know “What is her purpose, what does she do?” Honestly. What is this doing here. And it goes on for SO LONG!!!

7
Maybe my favorite Prince music video??? So we see past versions of Prince trapped in a time traveling cryogenic tube… The Continental yellow suit is here, the chain hat, the Morning Papers Sleeveless Grunge Shirt, some insane bolero top with a cowboy hat that unfortunately is not seen in its full glory.. each of them is electrocuted to show that he has no past, he has sown all his oats and he is ready to be faithful to Mayte and maybe now she will reciprocate his sexual advances. Also there are seven pairs of TINY CHILDREN PRINCE AND MAYTES WIELDING SWORDS AND COIN DRESSES IT IS VERY ADORABLE!!!! God he’s so intense. Oh and the “one day all 7 will die” is in reference to the 7 men that killed her father, whom he has casually assassinated by his bodyguards as he and Mayte waltz off into the sunset/another smoke filled room at Paisley Park.

Originally posted by princessmayte

Originally posted by ripopgodazippa


End Credits
Mayte calls Kirstie Alley to finally grant her long sought after interview with him, which was clearly written by him. Most of her responses are “oh.” I think this is the letter he wrote as her as his press release for why he changed his name? Again, UNCLEAR. Anyway, we’re left with shots of Prince making some kind of business deal in a smoky conference room, and then he ends up signing a contract written in Japanese with the Love Symbol. Dramatic cut to a cemetery, where we see a shallow grave containing the chain hat and the 3 chains o gold.

THAT’S IT! That’s all! Really! Any questions? I HAVE SEVERAL.

Sugar Baby Education 101: 7 Etiquette Habits

It is a big part of sugar baby’s lifestyle to be comfortable go out on dates with their SDs to high-end restaurants, opening galleries, charities, fundraisers, and balls. What most newbies do not know/lack is the proper etiquette habits. 

For those men who surround themselves with successful people 24/7, would be a big turn off to be with a young lady who does not know how to behave and know the unspoken rules in the public. It is important for all sugar babies to know how to act classy and elegant, take your time, don’t be in a rush, be sophisticated and be a mystery for your SD. 

When you are dating a millionaire, the right manners and ways of conducting yourself assume an even a greater importance since they indicate grooming and class – qualities which are important in the upper classes.

Here are a few tips on dating etiquette if you are seeing someone rich and successful and wish to come off as his/her ideal partner.

#1 How to Communicate

  • Not every thought that comes into your head should come out of your mouth. Vet your thoughts. Speaking your mind does not mean sharing every thought. Some thoughts are not appropriate and could cause irreparable damage to your relationships.
  • Never gossip. Most gossip is bad, negative and damages relationships.
  • Look everyone in the eye for no more than 5 seconds at a time, then divert your glance for another 5 seconds. Practice will turn this into a habit. 
  • Make eye contact with people you speak with.
  • Never criticize, condemn or complain about anyone to another relationship. It’s a giant red flag. People will assume that you are bad mouthing them and will try to stay away from forming any strong relationships with you.

#2 Focus on your partner

When dating a rich man , it is important to let them know you value the time and effort your partner is spending on you. And one of the best ways to do this is by being attentive to your date. Maintain steady eye contact with him and listen actively to what he has to say. Smile often and present a positive body language. Also avoid fiddling with our phone (do not take pictures of the food, take snapchat of yourself, etc. do not present yourself as immature girl.). Unless you’re on call at a high-pressure job, you have no excuse for frequently checking your PDA. Flashing expensive technology makes you look self-absorbed and immature. If you must take a call or check a text, apologize for being rude, and tell your date why it’s necessary.

#3 Eating Etiquette

Believe it or not, most people don’t know how to eat. In the adult world of the successful, you need to know how to eat at social settings. Let’s go down the list:

  • As soon as you sit in your chair take the napkin off the table and drape it over your lap.
  • Never begin eating until everyone has their meal.
  • Never chew with your mouth opened.
  • Never talk while you’re chewing your food.
  • Never dip any food you’re eating into a sauce everyone is using.
  • Don’t wolf down your food. Eat at the same pace as everyone else at the table.
  • Never hold a spoon, fork or knife with your fist.
  • Outside fork is for salads, inside fork for the meal.
  • Never make gestures while your utensils are in your hands.
  • Never reach for anything like salt and pepper. Always ask someone to pass things like that.
  • Don’t slouch at the table. Sit straight up.
  • After the meal, excuse yourself and go to the bathroom and make sure you don’t have any food in your teeth. Carry a toothpick or something similar in your wallet or purse wherever you go.
  • If your date orders, compliment his choices, whether it is his choice of dessert or the wine. At the end of the dinner, thank your partner for inviting you out and don’t leave it for the next day.Focus

#4 Dress Etiquette

When dating a millionaire, it is crucial to turn out in a classy and elegant manner. Adopt a personal style which highlights your best features and above all, get the basics of grooming right. Even though you may not be able to afford a Louis Vuitton handbag or a Cartier watch, ensure that whatever you are wearing is suits you and is appropriate for the occasion.

  • Work and Job Interviews – Some professions have special purpose clothing like construction, roadwork, electricians etc. If you work in an office, dress like your boss or your boss’s boss. In some offices it’s business casual, in others, it’s a suit and tie for men. For women its slacks, or skirts with open collars, heels or no heels are ok.
  • Weddings, Wakes, Funerals –  In most cases, this will be suit and tie for men. For women, it’s the same as work clothes but many women like to wear more formal gowns or a more stylish cocktail dress, usually worn with heels. Some cultures have special dress codes you need to be aware of.
  • Formals – Usually formals are black tie optional, black tie or white tie for men. Optional usually means a dark suit, tie or black bow tie, dark shoes. Black tie means black tuxedo, dark shoes, white tie means black tailcoat, white wing-collar shirt, white bow tie, black shoes for men. For women, it’s a long formal gown or short cocktail dress or dressy long skirt and top, usually worn with heels. White ties are very rare.

#5 Introducing Yourself

In life, you will be forced into situations where you will meet new people. This is an opportunity to develop valuable relationships.

There are 5 basic rules to making introductions:

  • Smile
  • Firm Handshake
  • Make Eye Contact
  • In one sentence explain who you are, why you’re there and who you know at the event
  • Ask Questions About the Person You are Introducing Yourself to.

#6 Basic Manners

  • Yes
  • Please
  • Thank you
  • Be punctual (Being punctual is especially important when dating the rich since for them time is money, and as soon as they find you tardy, they will see you as a waste of time.)
  • Excuse me when interrupting or entering a conversation
  • Don’t interrupt someone while they are talking
  • Don’t roll your eyes when someone says something you disagree with
  • Don’t look away when someone is talking to you
  • Never check your cell phone when talking to someone
  • Stay positive and keep criticisms and negative comments to yourself
  • Compliment, compliment, compliment
  • Thank anyone hosting an event, dinner etc.
  • Never curse or use inappropriate language during social events
  • Never be rude

#7 Learn to handle embarrassing moments

No one is born with perfect manners and it is all a matter of practice. So while dating your SD if you realize that you have committed a faux pas, make as little of it as possible. Ignore whatever you did or didn’t do and force your mind onto something else. Go on smoothly as if nothing happened and very soon people around you will do the same.

6

Sailor Stars Kaiteiban (1997) | Le Mouvement Final (2017)

— off limits | 04 (m)

pairing— kim seokjin x reader
genre/warnings— smut, dom! Jin, dare I say fluff…? followed by an ‘oh shit’ moment
words— 12,051

:: summary— you’ve been lusting after your brother’s best friend for a while now, ever since you met him at a house party, flirting it up a storm as you failed to realise who the other was. That was months ago now and things are still awkward, but you can’t ignore the sexual tension that’s simmers between the two of you…and it keeps getting worse…

» 01 :: 02 :: 03 :: 04 :: 05 :: 06 ::

Keep reading

2

I’m late to the party due to Vancon, but oh, lookie –

13x03 Dean is wearing the exact same outfit from 9x06 - solid blue and black shirt/layers. Black = grief, sadness, depression; Blue = (in relation to Dean) Cas.

The one significant difference: Dean’s jacket. It’s trenchcoat Cas-coded (Dean channeling Cas via clothes - a recurring pattern on the show i.e. his 12x18 suit, Cas-coded tie, collared plaid after sleeping with a Cas-replacement waitress for the very last time). 


Also 

  • Berens penned both 9x06 and 13x03.
  • Jody and Missouri are present in 13x03
  • possible psychic readings (Dean as querent - exposition of his feelings/bargaining-depression-acceptance stages via tarot cards)
  • A Dean and Jody scene was filmed at a Gas n Sip.

What am I trying to say here? 

They’re using the past narrative to reinforce the present (bring subtext to text) aka building blocks!

9x06 was Destiel-infused – Pine tree air fresheners, “Big O”, Sun logo = Cas, the romantic dating tropes, the Buffy and Tony Manero/Annette parallels, the fanfiction gap, Misha acting like a jilted lover = Dean overall pining and taking Cas on a date because he missed him post-Bunker kick out. 

Well, I hope the audience gets some sort of explicit visual/vocal acknowledgement from Dean or an EXPOSITION regarding Dean’s feelings (remember the number 3? “Big reveal” pattern) where a comparison between 9x06 and 13x03 is made. 

9x06: Cas wasn’t dead but human vs. 13x03: Cas is perma-dead. In both episodes, Cas’ absence (profoundly) affects Dean.

@thetwistedwillow and I suggested – what if the Gas n Sip cashier reminds Dean of Cas? Perhaps Dean actually buys something, then his grief induces overlapping 9x06 flashbacks of Cas behind the counter. What if we observe him sifting through his 9x06 memories? What if Dean and Jody have an expositional talk? 

Ah, the possibilities!

I’m not saying they WILL do these things, but considering the matching outfits, environment, and circumstances, there’s a chance we’ll see a 9x06 reference when 13x03 airs.

*flails*

@sactownbrowns3 @amwritingmeta @tinkdw @weathergirl83 @magnificent-winged-beast @daughter-of-the-rain-and-snow

Potion No. 9

pairing: daveed x reader

requests: could you do Daveed X younger reader, where reader is like 18-20 and they start dating and the reader’s parents get really weirded out over the age difference?

summary: it’s time for daveed to meet reader’s parents. that’s it that’s really all i’ve got.

warnings: swearing, smut, semi-public/public sex, D/s, daddy kink, light bondage, praise kink

word count: 4,320

a/n: title is part of title of a sandra bullock movie but i used it as lyrics from lotus flower bomb by wale, which i recommend u start to play during the sexy time at the end ok. i know it’s barely still valentine’s day but I WROTE THIS all in one day it’s been a wild ride. i wanted to get this up ASAP but i’m messy and wanted to write one more sex scene i’m sorry buds but i hope you enjoy it anyway!!!!!!!!!!


“Are you ready, babe?” You peer into the mirror, adjusting the clasp on your necklace. The small heart-shaped garnet glints in the light and your heart flutters, remembering Daveed gifting it to you just this morning.

“Just a second,” he shouts from his bedroom. “I can’t get this fucking tie on straight!”

You snicker, tucking your lipstick into your small clutch. “Come out here and I’ll do it for you.”

Daveed grunts and shuffles out into the living room with his suit jacket draped over one arm and a sour look on his face.

“Why are you pouting?” You ask, fingers deftly untying the crooked knot and starting over again.

“I’m too old to not know how to tie my own tie,” he huffs, shoving one hand into the pockets of his dress pants.

Keep reading

sometimes i catch myself staring into the distance and i’m sure i look super cool and pensive but i’m actually just thinking about how frederick is clearly wearing a collared shirt and tie under his armour

what the fuck, frederick. why did you wear a full suit and tie to war. did you think you were going to have to officiate chrom’s wedding in the middle of a battle? actually that’s pretty plausible

Adam is still in bed on Sunday morning after a now rare night spent at St Agnes and he’s watching as Ronan dresses for mass. It’s really the most inappropriate time and place for him to be focusing on the way the dark ink on Ronan’s toned back and wide shoulders can be seen through the thin fabric of his white button up shirt. He’ll cover it up with the black jacket, matching the neat black slacks he packed in an overnight bag, in a minute, so Adam can’t be blamed for his staring. And the warm and almost pressing feeling in his gut that wants him to reach out and touch, just to have this beautiful boy up against him, to have his hands on Ronan’s body, almost on his skin-

“Like what you see, Parrish?” 

Adam hadn’t realized that Ronan was watching him too. He gives in, letting himself have this, and sits up to beckon Ronan over. He motions to Ronan’s collar where his tie hangs undone.

“Come ‘ere and let me fix this for you.” 

Ronan walks onto the low bed on his knees until he’s just next to Adam and Adam can put his hands on him. He fixes the tie neatly, just like he does his uniform every day, and smoothes it down Ronan’s chest, letting his palms take in the warmth and solidity of Ronan beneath them.

He looks up at Ronan then, and the tenderness in his look is almost overwhelming just then. It goes quickly, eyes closing in anticipation of a kiss, but Adam knows; he saw and he felt it.

OfficeWorker!Jimin (Dope!AU)

Originally posted by absivthe

Pairing: Reader x OfficeWorker!Jimin 

Warnings: Smut (office sex, unprotected sex)

Words: 2k

Summary: Jimin is a cute guy that works in your office. The two of you are always amusing the other. What happens when the two of you are the only ones left in the office overnight?

It was another late night at the office. You had a mountain of work to do and if you wanted any hope of finishing it without your roommates distracting you, you had to stay late tonight.

Almost everyone had gone home. It was just you and Jimin. His desk was on the opposite side of the large room. You could see him now that there weren’t loads of people sat at the desks in between you. When you looked over at him, he would pull a stupid face at you every now and then.

You were glad he was still here, it gave you some form of entertainment to stop you from slipping into a coma of utter boredom.

You didn’t really know much about Jimin, you never really talked much. The two of you simply had an unspoken game, whereby you make the other laugh. 

It was an odd kind of  friendship, but it made coming to work a little more fun. Sometimes you saw him in the break room and would make small talk with him but more often than not you just made each other laugh with stupid dances.

-

You turned your attention back to your computer, you didn’t intend to stay at the office all night and that meant that you actually had to do this work and not stare at Jimin the entire time. 

That was difficult because whenever he walked into a room all eyes were on him. That red hair and cute smile attracted everyone’s attention. He sometimes wore glasses but you weren’t sure that he actually needed them. Nevertheless they succeeded in making him even more attractive. He was the talk of the office most days and he knew it.

Jimin was sat at his desk.  In all honesty he didn’t need to be at the office this evening but when he realised you were staying late he decided to keep you company. He didn’t have plans this evening anyway and he wanted to make sure you made it home alright because he knew you walked to and from the office.

You finally managed to focus on your work now that no one was around. 

You were staring at your screen intently when you felt something hit your forehead. You were startled out of your concentration. You look down on your desk to see a paper plane, the tip bent from where it had hit you.

You look up, focusing your gaze on Jimin. You notice the small trail of paper planes that litter the floor. You couldn’t help but laugh at his failed attempts. He smirks at you.

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elithien.tumblr.com
elithien.tumblr.com/post/161749986846/carasstarwarsmusings-clockwork-cameo
carasstarwarsmusings: “ clockwork-cameo: “ michellestarswept: “ darcyfitz: “ elithien: “Okay so when I was suggested to illustrate something that involved Rey at a space ball (because Vanity Fair...

This was originally meant to be a one shot based off of @elithien‘s lovely illustration. But it’s definitely got another chapter in it still to be written ;)

This is for @elithien and @michellestarswept :)

————————————

It was a lavish event.

Diplomats from multiple systems were there, as Chandrila hedged its bets looking for new alliances after the destruction of the Republic. Supreme Leader had sent him and Hux to represent the Order and to be sure the Chandrilians realized where it was their best interest to ally. A core world like them could not be overlooked, between their credits, resources, and influence over smaller systems.

He had protested, to no avail, that he had no business being involved with diplomacy. Such things were best left to people such as His. Just as meting out death was best left for those like him.

His mother may had been a princess, but he was no prince.

Yet here he was at the diplomatic ball,decked out in the finery of the First Order dress uniform. Black silk shirt with a high collar and ruffled black stock tie. The long, finely woven black coat, marked with red piping, came down past his knees. The black of the uniform contrasted to the white gloves of soft leather he wore on his hands.

And of course, no mask. He was open, vulnerable, to everyone in the room. And Gods he hated it. He had slunk to a corner of the room, leaning against the wall and glowering and drinking Corellian brandy.

Hux, on the other hand was peacocking around, chatting pleasantly as he preened himself among the affluent and powerful. Once the little pissant had come over and attempted to scold him for being “improper” and “antisocial”, insisting he come “mingle” with the other guests. He didn’t dignify the redhead with a verbal response, just glared at him in a way that said better than words what he would do if the man back the kriff off.

Draining his glass he looked around for the a server circling with trays of drinks. He was still far too sober to get through this ordeal. Scowling as he found no one nearby, he took a breath and ventured out into the crowd to find another drink. He was grabbing another brandy when he caught a few words of someone’s voice among the din, “…General Organa…”

He froze in place, closing his eyes tightly. She was here, of course she would be here. The Resistance would love to keep Chandrila among their allies. They had their own political cards to play. Holding his breath, he turned slowly and his eyes found the small woman talking to the vice-chancellor of Chandrila. So elegant, as she always had been, still royalty, still the Princess of Alderaan. Older, but still holding herself with a proud, commanding authority of a soldier and a General.

How long had it been since he had physically in the presence of his mother? His uncle had visited her once with him during the ten years he shadowed him like a dog, only a few years after she’d sent him away. He had been fifteen? Sixteen?

Did it even matter? He had been a boy still, the last time he’d been in the same room with his mother. The last time he heard her voice, they hadn’t talked over a com either since then. They had written, there was that, though he had written far more than she wrote back. Dutiful son and Jedi padawan that he had been, he wrote faithfully. She wrote back when she found the time, which, as it always had been with finding time for her family, had been rarely.

Hux swept his way towards the group surrounding the vice-chancellor, puffing himself out. He had seen Organa, he was sure. His motives for joining whatever conversations were taking place was certainly to kriff with her. It was what the little prick did best.

Why was he even still standing here? He needed to move, needed to get out of sight. If she looked over at Hux as he approached them, she would surely catch sight of him. Surely, there was nothing good that could come from her knowing he was here. Taking a step back, he began to turn when another figure stepped next to his mother.

Her. The girl. The scavenger.

He turned back, his eyes fixed on her. Her face was a bit fuller and her body had filled out, now that she no longer scrounged for meals, but still undeniably her. She was wearing a black dress, form fitting, showing off her freckled skin that had yet to lose the sun kissed tan of the desert. Her hair was full and tied up in an elaborate braid and a gold necklace hung around her neck. His mother’s– he was fairly sure he recognized it.

The last time he had seen her he had been half-dead by her hand, staring over an abyss at her as she disengaged her saber and ran. His hand reached up and traced down the scar that ran across his face. The mark she had given him.

As if acting on their own, his legs carried him over towards her. Stepping next to Hux who looked at him, a startled expression flickering across his face before he regained control. He heard his mother draw in a breath of shock, but his eyes were on the girl as her startled eyes flicked up to meet his.

He felt as lost in them as he had when he had first looked into them on Takadona.

“Vice-Chancellor, may I introduce to you Kylo Ren, Master of the Knights of Ren. So glad you joined us, Ren,” Hux’s voice oozed smoothly next to him.

He flicked his eyes away from the girl’s to shoot the man a warning look before turning and bowing slightly to the Vice-Chancellor, most of the bend in his neck. The etiquette that had been drilled into him during his youth surfacing as if it hadn’t been nearly two decades since he’d had use for such things,  “It is a pleasure to meet you, sir. We are honored to be your guests.”

The Vice-Chancellor beamed before giving a matching bow, “So few people respect proper formalities these days. We are honored to have you as our guests, and to share with you the splendor that we are able to provide.” The man turned to Organa and the girl, “General Hux, Kylo Ren, may I introduce another two of our guests, General Organa…”

Hux gave no more than a curt nod as he glared at the woman, who glanced at him with a cold glare. The Vice-Chancellor flicked his eyes over the man in disapproval.

He stepped towards his mother, woman looking up at him in surprise as he extended his hand with another short bow, “General Organa and I are acquainted,” he said. She stared at his hand, looking shocked for half a minute before slowly raising her hand to meet his. Once again following the formal etiquette for such introductions, he brought his other hand to clasp gently around the top of hers, bowing as he brought her hand up for his lips to brush a kiss across the knuckles. Feeling her hand shake in his hand at the contact. He straightened from his bow, releasing his hands for her to pull hers back. Their eyes met, hers were filled with conflict and pain. He wondered what she saw in his?

She bowed her neck to him, her voice rasped as she spoke, “Yes, we are acquainted.” Her voice broke slightly and she paused before continuing, voice smooth and under control, “Your manners are to be admired, as the Vice-Chancellor said, such formalities are ignored by many these days.”

“My mother raised me to respect such things.” He spoke matter-of-factly, no hint of vitriol in his voice, but she winced at his words anyway. Next to him Hux blew out an amused huff of air and he resisted the urge to punch him squarely in his smug, smarmy face. Not that resisting the urge to punch Hux wasn’t a daily occurrence, but it was especially strong this time.

The girl was glaring at him. He knew without even looking, he could feel them. It seemed like he could feel her anger as well. She thought he was speaking with the purpose of hurting Organa and her emotions were rising, anger flickering on the edge of rage. He had seen her rage before, as she harnessed it to rain down blows on him in unbridled fury, and it was something that was more beautiful than he could describe.

He raised his own eyes, hopefully with his own emotions calm and controlled, to meet her hazel ones. If the Vice-Chancellor was aware of the tension of emotions surrounding him, he ignored it, continuing with his introductions. “And this young lady, Miss Rey…” The Vice-Chancellor paused, clearing his throat.

“Just Rey, Vice-Chancellor,” her voice spoke politely, maybe even a little shyly. She shifted and he was suddenly sure that as well as she hid it, she was very uncomfortable. Uncomfortable in these clothes, uncomfortable surrounded by these people. She felt out of place and on display and hated every moment of it.

How exactly he knew it, he wasn’t sure. But there was no doubt in his mind, any more than there had been about her anger.

“Just Rey, yes, well,” the Vice-Chancellor nodded. “General Hux, Kylo Ren, this is Miss Rey, apprentice to Jedi Master Luke Skywalker, who was unable to join us on Chandrila.”

“Skywalker?!” Hux hissed next to him.

Apprentice… to… Skywalker. Apprentice to SKYWALKER. Apprentice to Luke Skywalker. The words echoed in his head as his mind refused to acknowledge him. The girl, this girl, the scavenger who had defeated him, who had denied his own offer to teach her, was now training under his uncle.

His uncle.

How he did not simply explode with the fury that surged through him, he would never know. The girl flinched and shrank back, as if she could sense the intensity rage that was now directed at her, though no one else around him seemed to know. He took a deep breath, forcing his emotions back under control, stepping forward to extend his hand and bowing as he had for his mother, “Forgive me for correcting you, Vice-Chancellor, but the correct term is Padawan, not Apprentice. It is a pleasure to meet you Miss Rey.” The girl just stared at him a moment before glancing at Organa who nodded briefly towards his extended hand, encouraging the girl to take it.

Slowly she extended her hand to his, and he brought his other hand over to cover it. There were callouses built across her palm and fingertips. Callouses built up from years of harsh labor. Somehow even with them her hand seemed amazingly soft to him as he bowed deeper, bringing the hand to his lips. Where he had merely brushed his lips against his mother’s hand, here he planted a true kiss across her knuckles, allowing himself to taste her skin. He could feel a vibration jolt through her as he did so, and he resisted the urge to smirk as he straightened himself and released her hand. His eyes lingering on hers, taking in the confused emotional storm within the green and brown.

Slowly she bowed her neck, mimicking his mother’s response to him. When she spoke her voice was soft and fast, unable to control the fact she would rather not be speaking the words at all, “It is nice to meet you, sir.”

He gave a small smile and nod, before leaving his eyes resting on the girl as the Vice-Chancellor led them in idle conversation. She shifted uncomfortably in his gaze, her eyes flicking over to him before darting away. After five minutes or so she excused herself, casting one last uncomfortable glance in his direction.

Draining his glass, he politely excused himself, bowing to both the Vice-Chancellor and to Organa, before slipping away. He set his empty glass on a cocktail table and tracked down another before he wandered among the crowd until he finally found her again. Hanging back and keeping his distance, he kept her in view, following her as she wandered among the wealthy and politically connected attendees, keeping to herself. Isolated while surrounded by people.

Oh, she did hate such an ordeal, hated it as much as he did.

Another thing they had in common. How was it that they could have so much in common? Was she still lonely? Did she still lay in bed at night, praying for sleep to finally take her?  Had she found comfort now under the tutelage of his uncle? Unlikely.

Did she know how much he understood her?

Asking questions like this was so unlike him, he didn’t know if it was the alcohol or the simple effect of her presence. Maybe a combination of both? She did have such an effect on him… one that he really didn’t entirely understand.

She moved about the room and he followed. It didn’t take her long to notice him, always there, always not far away. Her eyes would find him, and he could see a growing alarm at his constant presence. There eyes would meet and he would smirk, unable to help himself.

He turned to get another drink and looked up to find her gone. The little minx must had been waiting for an opportunity to bolt. Oh no, he wasn’t about to let her slip away that easily. Moving about the large ballroom, he scanned for her but she had vanished. Finishing his drink in frustration he slammed the glass down and turned to a slightly startled server to snatch another. As he did, he noticed a set of doors on the outside wall, not quite closed. His eyes fixed on them and he moved closer… a balcony perhaps?

Yes, he was certain she was out there. It was a strange thing to be certain of, there was nothing to indicate that she would be, but he was sure she was nonetheless. Walking across the room paused and grabbed a glass of Chandrilan wine with his free hand before making his way to the door, opening it quietly and slipping out silently onto the balcony and grinning as he saw her.

She was leaning against the railing, looking out on the ocean, a breeze lightly ruffling her dress. His eyes tracing down the bare skin of her arms and back, then pausing to appreciate the way her dress defined the quite lovely shape of her ass. Did she have any idea how beautiful she really was? He didn’t think so. He’d been in her mind, and beauty was not something she associated with herself.

Every muscle in her body tensed suddenly and she spun to face him, her right hand slipping into her dress to her hip. Even slightly inebriated, his eyes caught that odd motion and narrowed a moment before he grinned in realization. She saw him and snarled, “Why are you watching me?”

“You’re pleasant to watch,” he said, lightly, moving slightly closer, keeping a careful watch on where her right hand had slipped under her dress. “Are you going to pull that saber on me? That would be such a scandal, they’d talk about it in the upper echelons of Chandrilian elite for years.”

Scowling, she shook her head, slowly withdrawing her hand back into the open, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Of course not. You don’t have lightsaber in a concealed holster on your hip,” his eyes traced down her hip to her upper thigh, “or your thigh… where the skirt starts to flair? Yes… that’s where it would be if you had one, which I’m sure you absolutely do not.” He chuckled and winked at her, holding out the glass of wine to her.

She looked at the glass, and then at him, eyes narrowing.

“Do you have to assume everything has an ulterior motive?”

Slowly she reached out and took the glass from his hand before backing up and setting it down on the wide railing next to her. Her eyes following him as he walked to a bench along the wall and sat down, taking a sip of his brandy.

“You clean up well, little scavenger. Not to say you weren’t lovely in your desert rags, but you’re especially lovely tonight.”

Her eyes narrowed at him, when she spoke her voice was flat, “You’re drunk.”

He hummed thoughtfully a moment before he decided he was indeed past just being buzzed, “A little.” Raising his glass he bowed his head slightly to her, “I recommend it. It makes being at something like this more tolerable to people like us.” He nodded to the glass of wine, “Are you just afraid to drink anything I gave you or did uncle Luke force you to follow some ridiculous code of Jedi purity?”

“No. And my master forces nothing on me,” she snapped, picking the glass up and taking a small sip before setting it down again.

“Hmmm… who was it who forced you to come to this?”

She stared at him a moment, breaking eye contact before speaking, “No one forced me. They asked.”

He grinned, cocking his head, “Ah, so not forced but strongly encouraged. And it was my uncle and my mother.”

“Don’t call her that!” she snapped, her hands clenching into fists. Such beauty in that anger. “You have no right to refer to any of them as if they’re still family.”

“Just because you’ve endeared yourself to my family, scavenger, doesn’t make them less mine.” He waved his hand, draining his brandy, “You’ll find them disappointing you in time, if they hadn’t started already. Skywalker is too stubborn to change, and his ways will be as wrong for you as they were for me.”

There was no response, she rested her hands on the balcony railing and leaned back, refusing to look at him, “You know nothing about me.”

“I know you hate this. Hate being surrounded by these people, you feel like you don’t belong among them. And you’re right of course…” He smirked, “You hate that dress, which is a pity because you wear it so well. Hate those shoes, your feet are killing you in those heels and you feel like they hinder your mobility if you needed to protect yourself.” Her eyes turned to rest on him, expression falling flat, “You hate feeling like you have to behave yourself and watch what you say. That there are all these hidden rules of formality that you don’t know and you’re afraid you’re going to break.”

He got to his feet and walked towards her. She stood her ground, glaring at him, “You hate that you let them pressure you to come here. That you’re here just to be paraded around as a token bit of proof that Skywalker is alive and working with the Resistance.” She bit her bottom lip, he leaned forward, slipping his hands over hers on the railing, hunching to bring his face in front of hers, “You hate that you’re enjoying my company.”

She took a shaky breath, “You’re wrong.”

“Am I?” he asked, amused,

“And arrogant.”

“Oh, that one I’ll admit.”

Pulling her hands out from under his, she gave him a sharp push, forcing him a few steps back away from her, “You’re a monster who betrayed your fellow padawans and your master. Who was complicit in the murders of billions. Who slaughtered your own father in cold blood.”

Rage flickered through him and he pulled himself up tall, looking down at the girl, “You know nothing about these things.”

“Don’t I? I watched the last one with my own eyes,” her own rage began to fill her face at the memory. “He was my friend.”

He shook his head with a snort, “You knew him for a kriffing day. I had my entire lifetime to know what a pathetic failure he was as a father, husband, and even as a person. He would have disappointed you in the end. You should thank me for sparing you from that by killing him.”

The speed at which she moved startled him. One moment she was still against the railing, the next her hand was cracking across his cheek forcefully, rocking his head back. He looked down at her face, contorted in rage as she pointed a finger at him, “Don’t you dare speak to me again. Don’t you dare follow me anymore. I don’t care about making a scene, if you don’t leave me the kriff alone I’ll carve the other side of your face to give you a matching scar.”

Despite the sting of her blow, he grinned, “You’re so beautiful when you cloak yourself in anger. So un-Jedi-like. Your master would be disappointed in you, little padawan.”

She hissed and whirled to leave, but he snatched her arm above the elbow and spun her back towards him forcefully. His grip holding firm as she tried to pull herself free. With a sharp jerk he pulled her against him, slamming her into his chest. Her eyes flashed dangerously and she bared her teeth in a fierce snarl. Leaning forward, grazing his mouth against her ear as he spoke softly, “Your fool of a master would disapprove, but not I. I recognize power for what it is; I do not pretend it is some sort of weakness.”

He release her and she jerked away from him. Backing cautiously as her eyes flashed at him dangerously. “Stay away from me,” she said, the breathy tone of her voice giving away the raging storm of emotion within.

With a sharp turn she stormed away, going back inside. His eyes drifting down to watch her ass as she went.

Sighing, he sat back down on the bench, letting her go for now. She needed some time to cool off. He would give her a little… just a little.

He glanced down at his lap, where the bulge of his half-erect cock was effectively hidden by the long coat of his dress uniform. Snorting in amusement, he shook his head,it seemed he needed a little time to cool off too.

Chuckling, he leaned back, resting his head against the wall. He wondered if that silly girl really thought they were done yet?

They weren’t nearly done yet.

The Adventures of Todd and Granny

(Alternatively: “I Saw Granny Ethel with the Devil”)

Part I | Part II | Part III


Grocery Store



Todd the demon is a he, now, if only because Granny Ethel insists upon using copious ‘Dear boy, keep trying and ‘Atta boy!’ critiques to varying degrees depending on how well his needlework, crochet, and knitting attempts progress.

Gender isn’t a concept the demon concerned himself with before. If Todd had been, say, a girl named Tonya, he supposes he’d be a she instead. If Todd had been gender-neutral and properly communicated with his grandmother, he supposes she would call him they or child, appropriately. Granny Ethel isn’t one to discriminate. Even when she properly wears her glasses and sees his obviously un-Todd-like appearance, only shaking her head and smiling with a good-natured “kids these days” on her lips. But he wouldn’t mind if Granny Ethel called him boy, girl, thing, or abomination, so long as she stayed happy.

Granny Ethel is a patient woman. Todd simply can’t understand why or how she’d become the black sheep of her family, especially after a full week of living with her hospitality. Through the constant baked goods and the modest but satisfying three-meals-a-day; the careful (oh-so-careful) dusting of trinkets and bookshelves with tiny cloths and feather dusters not fit for large claws, which he insists upon doing while she looks on in worry before brewing more coffee; the midday television re-run breaks spent sealing cash donations into envelopes and discussing human rights issues instead of watching old shows, he simply can’t think of her as anything but a paragon of her kind.

It’s a problem with them, he concludes. Not her.

It isn’t a decision he makes lightly.

Spending such a brief time with her, he’s already learned so much more about humans than he ever would have cared to know, beyond perceiving them as vessels or a means to an end. There is much suffering in the world—sometimes even more than that in Hell—but there is also kindness.

He’s known that, but he witnesses it first hand during their first trip outside of Granny Ethel’s home.

“Come, now, Todd, we have much shopping to do. I’m afraid my pantry isn’t stocked appropriately for the upcoming food donation drive and I can’t just skip it this month.”

Todd remembers addressing an envelope to the local food bank—most people would stop there, figuring their good deed was done.

“I also have to stock up on this week’s groceries. Feel free to buy whatever you want, dear. I can cook anything, you know! At least, I try. I suppose you’d like some snacks, too. But I am so glad you’re here; think of all the bags we can carry between the two of us!”

There is no car in Granny Ethel’s driveway, or a garage to store it. He wonders how they’re going to make it to the grocery store as he waits for her to lock the door behind them, as she hobbles down the two small concrete steps with her cane in hand.

It isn’t until she’s halfway down the sidewalk that he realizes they’re walking. In public.

An old crone in black and a demon at her side, wearing a handmade shawl so lovingly stitched with various, terrifying occult symbols.

He isn’t the only one who sees a problem with this—the neighbor’s dog, a small, bug-eyed thing, yaps indignantly at them from the front lawn as it bounces around the dewy grass at its owner’s feet, soon erupting in warning yowls and howls, before falling silent mid-yip when Todd locks eyes with it. The neighbor—Maurice, if he remembers Granny Ethel’s gossip correctly—stands frozen, watering can dangling limp from his hand as he overwaters the begonias at his feet, mouth hanging open in undignified disbelief.

“Good morning, Maurice!” Granny Ethel calls with unmitigated cheer, and a hint of pride. “Nice morning, isn’t it? Oh! Have you met my wonderful grandson Todd? He finally came to visit! We’re going shopping now. Will you watch my house?”

Maurice simply stares, dumb with shock.

Halfway down the block, another neighbor’s car brakes with a squeal before they make it out of the driveway and they stick their head out of the window to gape.

Shutters crack open. Curtains are shoved aside.

Before Todd knows it, they are the cul-de-sac’s center of attention.

Granny Ethel doesn’t pay it any mind and continues obliviously on, waving to each face in turn as those faces pale, yet hers remains rosy.

“My, such a busy day today. I haven’t seen everyone out like this since the Fourth of July block party. Oh, if you’re still here during summer, Todd, we should definitely take part. Maybe we should start knitting an American flag for the occasion. What do you think?”

He can only nod.




They make it to the grocery store without incident—aside from the broken fire hydrant caused by a distracted driver and the one, single person who ran away screaming, and the handful that crossed themselves, and the one person bold enough to snap a picture with their phone before Todd grabbed it from their hands and threw it while Granny Ethel wasn’t looking, too distracted with how well the city’s roadside flowers were blooming—and Todd, ever the gentledemon, takes a small shopping cart from its line and trails behind Granny Ethel as she consults the list taken from her purse.

As expected, those within the store stop and stare. Even the calming elevator music jolts to a pause.

A young man in an employee vest, who looks high, shoots Todd the demon-horn hand sign and smiles before swaggering away to the frozen food aisle, and the manager meekly approaches them, skirting around a fresh fruit display.

“Ma’am, is there—is there something I can—do you need help?” he asks, sweating from his receding hairline to his neck as he tugs at his collar and straightens his frumpy tie.

“Oh! I’m so glad you asked. I didn’t see any sales circulars by the door—what kind of specials are on right now? Particularly on things like pizzas and cereals and whatever else young men like to eat.” Granny Ethel leans in close to the man, close enough to loudly whisper, “See, my grandson here is a quiet, shy boy despite his appearance, and I don’t think he’d ask me himself, but I bet he’d love to get some junk food to snack on between meals.”

The manager’s eyes widen, blood-shot, as he looks to Todd, who only smiles—which comes off as terrifying, he’s certain, with all the sharp teeth and red eyes involved.

“S-SURE! Junk food. Right. Um—uh, w-well, I think there’s a BOGO—buy one get one free—deal on the frozen pizzas. Uh…most cereals are marked down right now…th-there’s a sale on potato chips…hot dogs…” His voice trails off, too burdened with trembles and fear as he continues to hold Todd’s gaze. “And—you know, I’m sure some other employee can help you, ma’am. I’m not one anymore as of this moment. I QUIT.” That said, he yanks the flimsy plastic nametag from his shirt and runs for the door, followed by half of the shoppers who abandon their carts and drop their baskets, scattering groceries everywhere.

Granny Ethel watches him go, then sighs. “He must have been overworked and stressed. I almost walked out on a job a long time ago for the same reasons, but I needed it. You be careful of corporate America, Todd.”

He takes her words to heart, and he fully agrees.

Shoppers that remain in the grocery mart avoid them at all costs as they meander through the frozen food section, the bread aisle, the junk food corner—and Granny Ethel pays them no mind, filling the cart to the brim with refills of groceries she needs back at home and treats she thinks Todd needs more of in his life. He supposes he does, if she says he does. Far be it from him to contradict her adolescent-savvy wisdom.

Even so, the single shopping cart is far too small for all of the spoils—halfway through the shopping list, he finds them in need of another. It isn’t an issue. Many are left scattered, abandoned, around almost every corner. By the end of the list, both carts are full to the brim, and Granny Ethel is simply beaming.

The checkout lines are deserted—they have their pick. Although only one station is manned by a clerk, and it greatly narrows their choice.

As Todd wheels the two shopping carts to the register, he recognizes the young employee from before, who once again shoots him the demon-horn hand symbol.

“Love your poncho, dude,” Sam (as his nametag reads) comments with a bit of a tired drawl, and there are dark shadows under his eyes as expected from an overworked youth on minimum wage, but he is otherwise energetic, quickly scanning each of the items set on the conveyor belt, and smiling at demon and old woman in turn. “Did the little lady here knit that for you?”

“Crocheted!” Granny Ethel corrects with a grin, preening like a proud parakeet. “It does suit him, doesn’t it? Of course, I would never make something that didn’t suit my dear grandson. He must always be well-dressed.”

“You seem like a really supportive gramma. That’s cool. When I was in my super hardcore death metal phase, mine just dragged me to church every Sunday.” A digital beep accompanies nearly every word as he skillfully rings up each grocery down the line.

“Oh, I would never do that. Mainly because I no longer belong to a church. And also because Todd seems so averse to discussing Bible passages, so I never force him.”

At this, Todd gives a wry smile. He places the final handful of groceries onto the conveyor belt and sidles around Granny to the other side of the checkout, bagging the groceries that have already been scanned. It seems the official bag boy has fled in fright.

“I can imagine. Never one for religion, myself. Oh, and you’re eligible for the senior citizen’s discount, so let me just…” Sam pauses a moment to key in a code on the register and it dings. “Aaand, there. Your total comes out to $204.56. Stocking up for the winter already? It’s only March.”

“Oh, dear, no. Half of this is for the food drive!” Granny Ethel chuckles good-naturedly as she leans her cane against the counter and digs through her small pocketbook and produces a checkbook, then dives back in to search for her favorite pen.

Sam turns to Todd while awaiting payment. “By the way, dude, that costume is killer. I’ve never seen anything so realistic, with the added bonus that you scared the boss away! Totally made my day. My week, even.”

Todd gives a nod, happy to be of service, even if it isn’t a costume. He can’t exactly say it aloud. Perhaps one day he’ll learn how to speak English coherently, but for now nonverbal cues work just fine.

Finally, Granny Ethel finds her pink, plastic jewel-encrusted ballpoint pen and makes out a check to DeVille-Mart, even going so far as to take one of the heavier paper bags for herself, never one to make Todd carry all of the groceries himself. “You have a wonderful day, young man. Thank you.”

“Y’all have a great day, too, Ma’am.” Sam offers a toothy smile, and it seems sincere enough as he sees them off with a lazy wave “Hope to be seeing you shop here again.”

Todd isn’t so sure they’ll ever return once upper management hears about this visit, but it’s nice to know they are accepted by at least one individual.

“Now, Todd, let’s get to the food bank. We have such a long day ahead of us. But there’s a reward at the end of it—I bought ingredients specifically for chocolate turtle brownies!”

If the visit to the food bank is in any way similar to this excursion—and it will be, he decides, as yet another gawking driver’s car slow-collides with the corner vending machine when they pass through the automatic doors—they have a long day ahead of them, indeed.

Simon Imagine - The meeting (mentions of Joe Sugg, Dan and Phil, etc)

REQUESTED:  “Hi!! I have a quite different imagine request but one where y/n is a beauty you tuber who lives in america and has a beauty release or something like that “think zoella” and her and Simon have been dating for a while and he surprises her at her product launch party”

The minute I entered the room a giant smile erupted over my face. Everything looked beautiful. The polished wooden floors were sprinkled entirely with glitter, sparkles and confetti, leaving my heels completely covered in a coating of shine. Over every wall were photos, polaroids, all from the several shoots I’d done in the past few years building up to this very moment. Pastels and neons, metallics and glitters, the entire room screamed colour, and it was very reflective of the way I felt in this very moment. I could not believe the job that had been done, and as I thanked everyone I was ecstatic; nobody could have done a better job of promoting the launch of my first ever beauty range.

It wasn’t long before people started arriving. I stood at the door for a while, welcoming those I had not yet met, admiring the clean city streets of London whilst I did so. The entire atmosphere was worlds apart from what I was used to back in LA, and I couldn’t help but feel like I knew which one I preferred. London was smaller, more comforting, less dramatic - there was a definite home vibe to it, and it was massively enjoyable.

“You must be Y/n, right? This event is incredible congratulations!” 

I turned around at the mention of my name, and was instantly greeted face to face by Zoe Sugg, the woman who had inspired me most to construct this event. I felt the blood rush from my face.

“Oh my gosh, Zoe! Thank you so much!”

“Aw it’s okay! Come on, let’s go inside, you shouldn’t be missing out on all the fun!”

I complied politely, taking her arm and walking through the hallway towards where my event was taking place. Inside everybody had arrived. There were youtubers everywhere, taking photos, vlogging, testing out the products lined up along the stands and tables. Zoe turned her head towards me.

“Have you tried anything from the sweet table yet?”

“There’s a sweet table?” I asked, astonished. Her face softened into a humoured smile and I couldn’t help but feel envious of her beauty.

“Yeah, I thought I as much. I know when you’re planning these things it’s hard to actually experience them. Let’s go get food!”

She tugged on my arm slightly, taking me in the direction of where three tables stood consecutively. Each one was decorated in different types of confectionery; jars of brightly coloured sweets, plates of cupcakes, bowls of marshmallows and chocolates. I picked up a mason jar of pink lemonade as Zoe pulled me over to her group of friends.

“Y/n, I want you to meet Alfie, Joe, Louise, Dan and Phil. Guys this is Y/n, the creator of this event and it’s products.” 

I was greeted with a chain of hellos and hugs, and it occurred to me how attractive the British vloggers truly were. I sipped on my straw to suppress my nerves as I made small conversation. I had met so many lovely new people tonight, and yet still there was one left; Simon Minter. I had met him over twitter, and skype, and facetime and Snapchat and every other social media currently existing, however face to face was still yet to happen. Despite our lack of actual human interaction I felt hugely attracted to the boy, something that was no secret to my fans and followers, who had been tweeting me since sunrise asking if today would be the day of our meeting. Secretly I had been hoping for months that it would - I was desperate to see him, hear his voice without the robotic alterations, touch him for the first time. Even my managers were keen, set on the fact that the presence of someone with that large of a following would do nothing but good for the sales of my products. However, realistically, a place as pink and glorified as this would be no place for a fifa youtuber. I tried to shake this thought in order to keep up my high spirits.

“So Y/n, what made you decide to host your event in London, why not LA?” Dan asked with genuine interest. 

“It’s where most of my following is,” I smiled. “And I’ve always wanted to visit anyway, so it seemed to make sense.”

“Ah. Yeah it’s a decent area!”

“Does that desire to visit correlate in anyway with a certain Fifa youtuber? Someone who’s name perhaps rhymes with Dimon?”

I blushed as everybody laughed at Joe’s comment. “There is that, I suppose. May I ask how you know of mine and Simon’s interactions? Big fan of my Q&A’s?”

“Well of course Y/n!” Joe laughed, a flirt of light hearted mockery laced in his voice. “Although it definitely helps that I’ve been blessed with the privilege of playing cards against humanity with the Sidemen, so I’m pretty clued up on the extent of your relationship, actually.”

My face heated as I squirmed. “I won’t ask anymore on that one!”

“Probably for the best.”

The conversation continued for a while. Louise complimented me on my dress, Dan and Phil quizzed me on my life and I tested out some of my scrubs and moisturisers on Joe’s face. As I l talked, my eyes turned to Zoe and Alfie, who were whispering just beside me, Alfie’s eyes down at his phone. I raised an eyebrow as Zoe looked up at me.

“You know what Y/n, I think you and I should go and take some photos in the photobooth.”

“Um, sure..?” Her spontaneity threw me off slightly as she took my arm once again, speed walking me out of the room. There’s a photobooth too now??

“And here we are!”

I admired the golden machine, my name sprawled on the side in large, sparkly letters.

“Wow..” 

“It’s pretty, isn’t it.” She smiled. “And talking of pretty, you look amazing, so get your bum in there first!”

I smiled. Someone like Zoe was impossible to say no to. She watched me eagerly, Alfie not far behind as I pulled back the red curtain..

“Oh my God!”

Sat on the swivelling stool inside was none other but Simon. He looked outstanding, all clad in a black and white suit, his collar opened slightly missing a tie. His hair was still red toned, and it looked surprisingly good as he climbed out of the machine and picked me up off of the ground. 

“Hello Y/n.”

His voice sent shivers down my spine. It was much deeper than what I was used to, although still just as soft and comforting, especially whilst blessing the syllables of my name. My cheeks ached from grinning.

“Simon! I didn’t think you’d be here!” 

“Why would you think that? I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“I didn’t exactly think face masks and bath bombs were your thing, funnily enough.”

“Hey, you don’t know my lifestyle.” He joked, and I smiled.

“Very true, I don’t.” He released me from his arms. “But I’d like to.”

“Well, if ever there was a moment I was more sure of wanting you to find out, I think it’s this one.” My cheeks heated for what seemed to be the tenth time tonight as Simon held me at arms length, his eyes scanning up and down my body, focusing on the curves of my silky red dress. “You look..incredible, Y/n.”

“And you, Simon.”

We stood for a second, just watching eachother. I paid particular attention to his eyes and their deep blue pigment. He looked younger in real life, his face fresher, a lot brighter without the dim of a computer screen in front of it. I felt zoe touch both our arms.

“Right you two love birds, let’s go back to where the party’s at, come on!”

We both grinned as her and Alfie shuffled ahead.

“11 million subs just touched my arm. I’m gassed.” Simon whispered, and I hit his arm playfully.

“Aren’t you used to it? You live with the KSI.” I quizzed him as we walked along.

“Oh trust me Y/n, 15 million subscribers touches you in a very different way.”