moondustlings

[moondustlings]

Show me how unwell you are by telling me what your top song of 2025 is so far

[moondustlings]

i will be going on a mini hiatus

some personal things have popped up with members of my family and my house is not my own for a bit. i will write and draft when i can, but it won't be enough to post so i'm just going to pause things for a bit (hopefully a week or two). i will be around on other platforms for chatting and plotting otherwise!

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i saw the movie, so bring all david c. opps and david c./rachel b. ships to the front.

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home home home! i'll be writing in the coming days and adding to my queue.

i had planned to pad my queue for my vacation but as always, i got distracted and that didn't happen. so i'm not vacant just not at home!

[moondustlings]

i had planned to pad my queue for my vacation but as always, i got distracted and that didn't happen. so i'm not vacant just not at home!

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while she loved his declarations of love and devotion, she found these more raunchy, desperate words he said while they were in the throes of passion just as desirable. the way he touched her, kissed and nipped at every bit of skin that he could reach. so easily he made her feel like a goddess and it was something she had quickly grown addicted to when their relationship turned physical. her lips molded to his while her body moved in a steady rhythm. her hips rocked back and forth, no real rush to her actions, just the pure pleasure that was making love. because as cliché of a saying it was, daphne fully believed that's what they did. yes, like he said, they were fucking, but there was so much more there, so much more depth to their relationship. still, it did feel good to fuck, which she felt she morphed into as her movements changed from rocking to bouncing. their antics were the reason why he had had to purchase a top of the line, industrial-like chair that could withstand their antics. it still creaked as she moved but she didn't fear that it would crack at any given moment. breaking away from his lips, she steadied herself with her hands on his shoulders as she threw her head back, reveling in the feeling of being so full of his cock. "so good, baby. god, you feel amazing."

"You're even more amazing," Mateo hummed eagerly returning her kiss as his hands grazed over her body. Everything about this woman was exactly what he wanted for himself and more. In response to her question he nodded enthusiastically, giving her his best puppy dog eyes to signal he was desperate to do whatever she asked to get what he wanted. An excited grin came over his face as she pushed him back into the chair. As she reached for his pants, he licked his lips in anticipation before kissing her again. Without thinking he did as she instructed, groaning softly at her touch. There was no time to think as she lowered herself onto him. Mateo's breaths were deep and heavy as he held onto her hips. "Never get tired of it baby," he whispered allowing his gaze to roam over her body leaning in to kiss her chest and breasts. "I want to fuck you forever. Could never get sick of you," he breathed before leaning in kissing her deeply groaning at how good she felt.

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her eyes look at him for just a moment before she answers, just appreciating his beauty. pretty boy was what she had called him when they first started dating, before the other pet names had come into play, and right now that's all she can think about. just how damn pretty he is and how it isn't fair. not only is he attractive, but he's kind when he needs to be and not so kind when it's important. just like now, despite her reassurances, he removes himself from his game just to make sure she's okay. part of her wants to answer yes because she loves afternoons where she cockwarms, just sits on his lap while he does mundane tasks like gaming or working or anything else that's most definitely not sex. but as his lips brush against hers, she knows she can't lie. "no," she replied, once again fidgeting. "i ... i want to be but—" without movement from him, she whines, this one more exasperated than anything. "i need you, baby." even though she knows his mic is flipped up, she doesn't care if his friends hear how desperate she was; it wouldn't be the first time and she doubted it would be the last with how she often got. "god, i need you so bad." her cheeks burn pink and she presses her face against his skin. "tell me you need me too, daddy. i need to hear i'm not the only one who's so needy."

"mmm, i am completely without fault here. you're so right, princess," he chuckles. there's a shit-eating grin on his face when all his friends start protesting in his ear, listing all the ways he had fucked up that last game. "no, no, no, guys. you heard her," niko cuts them off, pausing to give paloma a quick kiss. "it's all your fault," he tells the guys. this was one of the reasons he actually loved gaming while his girlfriend sat on his cock—she always managed to stir up some sort of trouble by merely supporting him. even as the guys are hooting and hollering when paloma whines again, he can't keep his eyes off of her. fuck, how was he supposed to get back into a game when she was being so tempting? it had been easier at the start of the last game—she had been asleep, more or less. but even as she gets settled on his chest again, niko finds himself somewhat distracted. with one hand, he reaches to flip the microphone arm on his headset so it's up by his ear, before reaching to take paloma's chin between his thumb and forefinger. "hey," he says quietly, tilting her head up so he can press a soft kiss to her lips. "you promise you're good?"

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bits of their conversation from the bar play in maisie’s mind at random moments. the sight of him as he appeared out of nowhere, a literal hand offered to guide her through the chaos that was the upper echelon of the new york elite. how easy it was to talk to him about anything and everything. his beauty… honestly, she tried to not think about that last bit too hard because if one thing had been apparent when they parted, he wasn’t interested in her like that. he was kind, friendly, but she had thought it was more out of pity versus attraction. if friendship was the only avenue she’d have to explore with him, she’d take it. finding genuine people had been hard to come by and she wasn’t going to abandon the only person who actually seemed to enjoy her company.

and it was honestly so nice to see him when she did. one thing she enjoyed about amir was his dedication to his studies. given his money — and boy was there a lot; she had google’d him after their first meeting and read up about his family — and status in life, he could have coasted, did the bare minimum asked of him and rode on the coattails of the ones before him. yet he didn’t want that and she respected it. it made him quite a busy man, so the small snippets of him she got when he had a moment of free time was cherished. the little stolen moments as they talked about their day with coffee he bought for them. when she saw him on campus, she waved and he didn’t hesitate to wave back, even if there wasn’t a chance to stop and talk. yet every time he was nice, she found herself craving more. he would be perfect for her, or at least a perfect distraction, but it was like he always kept just enough distance between them as a reminder that this was just a friendship. nothing more, nothing less. she got it but it didn’t mean she liked it.

so when she got the party invite, she didn’t hesitate — she jumped at the chance. the asker in question was someone she was aware of but she hadn’t really talked to before. but that didn’t matter for a date, right? it had been so long and she wanted to feel wanted and desired again. she picked an outfit that was casual but showed she tried — a backless silk camisole that was delicate and expensive looking, held together by slim satin ties; a designer miniskirt; vintage kitten heels; accessories to match including statement earrings and a pearl-chained purse. it wasn’t what she’d wear to a party back home, but she felt different and special. when her date showed up, he looked a mixture of bored and impressed and maisie decided to focus on the latter as she excitedly exited her apartment on his arm. though the conversation between the two left a lot to be desired, she learned a little about him before the car pulled up to the scene of the party. her phone buzzes and she sees the messages from amir, but the sight that was on the other side of the car window put a knot in the pit of her stomach. her friends... the same group that had been there the night she met amir all stood casually outside. like they were waiting for her.

and when she got out, she learned that they were and it had all been a setup. the car sped off once she was out and standing alone on the sidewalk. she tried to be nice, pretending like she wasn’t just ditched as they circled around her. snide comments were thrown her way: "think you’re too good to talk to us now?" "look at her. it looks like she raided her mommy’s closet and thinks it’s couture." she feels a hand come to her shoulder and before she can move, she feels the cool night air hit her bare skin. there’s a flash before she brings her hands up to pull back up her blouse. cold liquid then splashes against her thigh and stains her skirt. the pressure of someone stepping on the back of her ankle causes her to cry out and as she takes a step, she can feel the strap of her heel is now busted. though she’s hurt in more ways than one, she doesn’t dare cry. humiliation causes her cheeks to burn bright red and still holding her top, she turns and walks away. they’re still throwing taunts her way but they don’t follow. their goal has been reached and she knows before the night’s over her body will be shared by everyone she knows.

when she’s far enough away, she hails a cab and manages to give them the address before she finally succumbs to the humiliation and she cries. silent sobs shake her body as she curls into the door of the cab, the lights making pretty designs on the floor that she sees through blurry eyes. if the driver knows she’s crying, they say nothing until they stop at her destination. quietly, she pays and exits the car, limping her way to the door. luckily, she had been here with amir a couple times, once on a tour and another for a quick visit, and the doorman let her through without question. or maybe he feels sorry for her in her current state. she makes eye contact with no one as she gets in the elevator and heads up to his floor. every ding of the elevator has her second guessing her choice to come here. it’s enough he’s rescued her once; now she just seems like a masochist for pain. but she doesn’t want to go home alone, and she has no other real friends. he’s the one person she knows she can count on.

at his door, her fist hesitates before she knocks twice. part of her hopes he’s not home. yet the door opens and she lets out a choked sob. “i didn’t know where else to go,” she said. “you’re my only friend.”

Respect, huh?

"Oh, that's demanded, baby," said with the curve of his mouth stretching so fondly that the light started to catch on his one visible white canine. Nevertheless, he understood her plight, as it was something he'd even watched Tahlia end up going through------------ the reason for her always having to resort to such extremes, Amir believed. Whereas Amir could rely on his size, frame, and smoldering death-glare that came ever so naturally to him... Tahlia was forced to learn to punish others early and often just to keep them in line and terrified of ever betraying her. Thus, making up for the physique or sinister calm that Amir possessed and she lacked (although, blatant sadism also probably had something to do with Tahlia consistently wanting to see others squirm in her presence... but Amir wouldn't deny his own sadism, just that it expressed itself in different measures than hers. Tahlia toyed with weak, stupid minds; Amir found no pleasure in controlling those he deemed lesser.)

Maisie could have that respect she was craving... or, or she might have to settle for their fear, jealousy, and disdain. A corrupted form of respect unwillingly given.

And Amir could teach her how to seize it.

But he won't breathe a word of it until she feels she's ready.

Allowing her to go on ended up with him very much lost in the dulcet haze of her voice------------- and he's silently thankful that he can't see himself right now, the smitten warmth darkening within his eyes like heat, like hunger. Deep down, the big man already knows that Maisie's something fierce, and entirely unlike any other woman he's ever experienced, it's just that... it's a truth he'll have to cut apart and bury for as long as possible after this (because he's never fallen before and who knows what he might become if he did?)

Lips press together to stop himself early from debating her on the best of the best authentic Mexican spots, gaze squinting playfully in her direction. Honestly, he's never heard anyone (let alone a woman her age) describe herself the way that Maisie just did... and it positively catches him off guard, flickering sparks all across his thoughts.

And now it's his move.

In his younger years, he might've used his family's wealth, career, or EngD goals as a crutch, but Maisie just gave him raw, honest details about her life----------- nothing too emotionally heavy but Amir could tell there was real heart to her answers. The least that Amir could do was offer the same, his image stripped of pretense. "I'm just a man who knows what he wants and goes after it. That tends to bother people, especially the ones who think I should want them by default. ...But I don't move for anyone's expectations. I never have."

"Respect isn't optional around me. I don't chase attention. And patience?" Gives a deliciously soft hum of a chuckle, lifting his glass yet not drinking. "Not my strong suit." His lashes lower, gaze sliding from Maisie to the sparkling edge of his glass as he's thinking carefully. "I've had to be hard in most places; it's the only way I knew how to make it through."

"Sometimes, though... I wonder if I could learn to be soft. If I'd ever let myself go that far for another person."

----

Throughout the weeks that followed, Amir made sure to carve out time between his long hours at the lab, writing endless technical reports, and prepping for presentations just to pop in and out of Maisie's schedule whenever he could-------------- just enough to show that he'd been serious about the whole entire friend thing. Age gap aside, Maisie had her own special way of drawing Amir to her. Normally, petty things like bullying would have earned Amir's cold indifference or scornful glare, but with Maisie? There was no sense of liability, only a quiet anticipation for their late-night texts and unexpected run-ins across campus. Every now and then, he'd even buy her lunch or swing by her go-to study spots with coffee and pastries in hand, before he was yet again forced back into his own additional responsibilities... (like fucking teaching undergrads, ugh.)

On one particular evening, he'd opted out of attending a Columbia party just to give himself the chance at unwinding after a mentally exhausting week. Sitting all nice and cozy up in his Upper East Side penthouse with a copy of the MIT Technology Review in his lap, a mug of peppermint tea in hand----------- it then hit him that Maisie would be at the evening affair instead. Possibly with a date... but that wasn't any of his business. Sooner or later, he'd be out tracking for his next fix, too. Anything to make him feel a little more intense and alive again outside of the dramatic pressure of academia.

Still, on pure impulse, he has to shoot a text Maisie's way. She was always somewhere in the back of his mind, no matter how aggressively he'd fight to pretend otherwise.

[ Dallas ⟶ ✉︎ ] Feels weird when I don't see you for the day. [ Dallas ⟶ ✉︎ ] How's the party going?

He waits, and he waits, and...

Maybe she fell asleep?

[moondustlings]

damn. she hated that he was right. even if nothing happened tonight — and considering the very delicate relationship she had with his father, it was probably for the best — he could consider it a win that he took her to lunch and would have her on his arm for the gala tonight. "you're funny." when the waiter returned with their drinks, the pair put in their order and were left alone again. she squeezed a lemon into her water and took a sip, letting out a soft sigh. "what happens when the challenge is over? do you lose interest?" while she still had very little intentions to give in to his charm fully, a part of her wondered if he was only after the chase and would quickly give up once he had gotten his prize. the affair she had going on with his dad was just that — an affair. the closest thing she had to a date was accompanying him on lunch meetings and staying after the clients had left. being out in the open with gavin was completely different, as well as being the one chased. it was a nice change of pace.

gavin was obviously happy when she had agreed to go to dinner with him as well, a smile just staying ever present on his features. he couldn’t exactly describe why he was hoping she’d want to spend more time with him, but he was happy that it was working in his favor. he’d let her suggest the place for lunch, and it was one that he would have chosen himself as well, happy that they appeared to be thinking on the same page. there was no telling just how the gala tonight would go, usually gavin had found himself bored to bits, so he was hopeful that having her there would mean he could enjoy himself, even if she claimed that she was going for work. it wasn’t until they were sat down and she was speaking once more that he had to chuckle. ❝ i don’t know, i guess you just seem to be worth the challenge. ❞ he’d been relentless, though gavin knew that if she had ever seriously meant for him to stay away that he would, not wanting to make her feel uncomfortable. ❝ it’s working for me though, clearly. ❞ he spoke, motioning to the table, the two of them were sat at after a quick shopping trip. ❝ it’ll only take a little bit longer for you to realize that you’re in love with me, and the rest will be history. ❞ 

[moondustlings]

First look at Corey and Sofia in My Oxford Year

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Kiara & Caitlyn ↳ Motorheads, 1x09 | 1x08

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@harshlxve / @evrthtremor

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arms crossed in front of her chest, sharp exhales of breath exiting her nose, and the sour expression marring her features; astrid was the epitome of a petulant, spoiled daughter who was told no. in this instance, the word wasn't said explicitly but rather in actions. how he had found her — thanks technology — and dragged her out to his car. the way he talked to her, reminded her that the guy she was seeing was no good and she was so much better than who she was associating with. it was all so infuriating. "well i sure don't want to talk to you." her cheeks were still stained pink with embarrassment but she hated how hearing his voice caused her to soften just a little, because she had never been able to stay mad at him for long. "you didn't have to do that. i ... i would have come out eventually." even though she pretended she actually liked the guy that he had rescued her from, it was all a façade. every guy she had dated for as long as she could remember had all been out of her league in a negative sense. too old, too emotionally stunted, too much like him. it was her way of acting out, and tonight was finally a night that he had reacted. but her anger was still present because it wasn't like she was going to get what she truly wanted from him. "you could have just stayed home, dad. saved yourself the gas." she looked over at him, features still blank. "i didn't ask you to come and save me."

💗 — open for f muses connection: daughter/step-daughter

the interior of his ford mustang was warm, the radio playing softly a patsy cline song he loved. it was all in direct opposition with the storm steadily brewing within him, something he couldn't quite control or understand without accepting facts that felt like they tore at him. could have lectured her the whole ride home if he wanted to, he certainly had the right. stellan had warned her time and time again about the boy and his reputation. he wasn't good enough for her. maybe she'd thought his words some paternal, automated thing. no boy is good enough for my daughter. perhaps had convinced herself of it, as they continued to dance around the thick tension between them over the last few months. infrequent instances that stuck out in his mind, sweet moments tainted with a lust that seemed to come from nowhere, hearing her through the wall during private moments, scantily clad outfits worn to the table every time they shared a meal. stellan clenched his jaw, staring straight ahead at the road as they drove. "are you intending to pout for the whole car ride?" stern question was asked with one glance spared her way and his hands tightening on the steering wheel. "drove all this way to pick you up and not even a thank you, daddy. you just sulk like a child over some boy that wasn't worth your time."

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someone please give me a plot with a frat boy who’s like every normal frat boy. he drinks too much, he parties, and he sleeps with random girls but everything changes when he’s around the girl from back home. the girl that really matters to him. he doesn’t want to admit that he likes her a lot but, that’s what it comes down to when one of the guys in his frat house wants to hook up with her and she’s perfectly willing.

[moondustlings]

JENNIFER'S BODY // (2009) — dir. karyn kusama

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bitch she might be, soraya never extended that same attitude towards the staff. so when beatrice had greeted her, she smiled and said hello in return. "enlightening," she answered with a grin as she looked over at camden. her mother had taught her very young the importance of treating any hired help well, both monetarily and with actions. one never knew when they might need a little help disposing of nasty secrets or another eye on a wandering spouse.

her eyebrows knit in confusion when he asked how she was, wondering when he suddenly started caring for another human. before she could make a clever quip, beatrice was responding and it all became crystal clear. the younger sinclair and, once upon a time, camden's shadow. from a distance, soraya always thought they were kind of adorable but the idea of a younger sister trailing after her annoyed her to no end, even in a hypothetical sense. the two seemed thick as thieves until the attempted kidnapping incident, and then celeste didn't come around much anymore. part of her always wondered, but the thought of actually talking to camden willingly prevented her from satiating her curiosity.

the mention of a package instantly catches her attention and the knowing glance she exchanges with him lets her know he's thinking the same thing. "what if it's a bomb?" she asks as beatrice goes to retrieve the package. it's outlandish but if the sender is who they think it is, it's not necessarily out of the question. when the box is brought to him, she instinctively takes a step back as he unwraps it, ready to bolt if something pops out. instead, there's a card and the single letter confirms her suspicion: thalia. soraya winces but the contents of the gift confuses her.

it was a sex fiend's ideal birthday gift, with enough toys to fuel a week long adventure. one hand cradled the box while the other explored its contents, picking up the handcuffs with an expression that read excuse me? "first off: rude. that's no way to talk to your future wife." she put the box on the counter, tucking in the flaps for good measure because they did not need to expose poor beatrice to that if she came back into the room. she picked up the card and pointed to the 'T', just in case he missed the very important clue. "want to clue me in on why thalia," again she whispers the name, "is sending you a box of sex toys and saying to use them while thinking of her? have you fucked her or something?" she doesn't mean for her tone to come out as accusatory but if he's holding back on information, she's really going to blow a gasket.

just when it feels like a puzzle one section closer to competing, another part is revealed and she feels like she's in an event worse position than before. "look, i need to know everything, okay? i promise, i won't judge your taste if you did hook up with her." despite her words, soraya's lip curls a little in disgust. "i never asked, but did you break her heart or give her some sort of disease and that's why she fucked with celeste as badly as she did?" it all kinda made sense; thalia never really needed a reason to be an über bitch, but if given one, she became a mega über bitch. cam being cam and fucking around with her gave more than enough incentive for her to not only mess with him but his family. poor celeste if she got dragged into it because her brother didn't know how to keep it in his pants or call a girl back.

Not this she-demon (Soraya's mom) giving him the side-eye from hell.

Like mother like daughter, huh?

It all makes so much sense now-----------

But before Camden could properly stare her down, as he'd faced many an evil witch and no longer knew fear except for when Tahlia was on her usual unstable bullshit, he was being hissed back at by the tinier she-demon, and then yanked along by the wrist. His terrible choices? Well, sorry that he didn't want to exhibit the behaviors of an elder cat lady in his goddamn 20s. Actually, he's not sorry, he just wants to have his fun before his father shackles him to a boring as hell desk job in executive corporate, all in the name of passing down the great 'family legacy'. He didn't give a shit about his dad's company, and it bled through in every hedonistic act and behavior; Camden was meant for the explosive and pleasure-driven, forever craving debauchery over boredom.

He didn't expect Soraya, the future cat lady, to get it.

Inside the car, he glanced back-and-forth between his wrist and her with a single blond brow risen expectantly (as if he couldn't just... snatch it away himself.) And when he was finally free, his features pinched with derision, elegant digits tucking into his sleeve to yank his cuff back over his glittering Audemars Piguet watch. The next time she touched him? He'd deliver the mean, biting reaction she actually deserved.

He informed the driver of where they were headed to, back to his family's penthouse sprawling with classic grandeur with the most stunning view of Central Park, and then dropped his head back against the headrest of the seat, eyes rolling towards the ceiling in almost agony that Tahlia's name was even being mentioned out loud. While doing reconnaissance made sense, the MacIntyres were notoriously private-------------- exactly why Tahlia playing socialite was such a fucking constant migraine for them. They'd no doubt greased every palm necessary just to keep anymore information about her from leaking out by now. And Amir? Well, he sure as hell wasn't speaking to Cam or Soraya, and Soraya did seem like sorta his type? Pretty, petite...

Ew.

Abruptly feeling her eyes on him, Cam slightly turned his lulled back head in her direction, the look in his eyes completely done before he turned on the surprisingly reassuring tones. "No one's going to figure out what we did." They were in this together, for better or for worse.

At his penthouse, they rushed out of the elevator and into the warm wash of vanilla lighting, and Beatrice, the housekeeper, quickly approached in her usual flutter of greetings and grace. "Happy afternoon, Mr. Camden and Miss Navarre. How was tea?" An utterly ordinary sight as Cam and his little sister, Celeste, had been raised by an endless rotation of maids and housekeepers throughout the years... who had all been more present than their parents. Hence why Camden, truly, didn't listen to his mom and dad's exhaustive lectures about how he needed to take more responsibility as a man or whatever. They weren't around enough to honestly gather what made Cam or Celeste happy anyway.

"Tea was... tea. How is she?" Camden nods towards the grand staircase, watching with growing concern as Beatrice's thin brows pinch closer.

"Miss Celeste hasn't come down for breakfast or lunch. I think she just wants to lock herself in her room for the whole day. And, a package came for you earlier..."

Instinctively, Cam darts his gaze towards Soraya, because they both knew what they meant, and braced themselves accordingly as Beatrice materialized a medium-sized package wrapped in shimmering silver paper plucked from the foyer's polished stand. "There's a card that came with it, Mr. Camden." And Cam sees the card tucked underneath a thin white ribbon and snatches it free, flipping it open and silently allowing Soraya to lean in beside him so that she could read the inside in the same moment he does.

I missed you. But more importantly, I remembered everything. Think of me when you use these.

-T

"The fuck?" Cam muttered, ripping open the rest of the package with growing irritation-------------- only to find what could only be described as a deluxe kink starter kit. Inside were, of course: fuzzy pink handcuffs, a satin blindfold, a pair of silicone restraints, a leather paddle, a vibrating plug in matte black, nipple clamps that looked way too professional, a silk rope coiled like it meant business, and a bottle of suspiciously expensive champagne nestled dead center like a trophy. Of course. Classic fucking Tahlia. Lightwork for her, but exactly the kind of thing that would send his sister into a full-blown spiral. Cam exhaled brusquely through his nose, shoving the entire box at Soraya instead of looking any further.

"Here. You need this more than I do. Go find some poor bastard to make you a little less boring."