#I have a feeling they did that on purpose

[muwapsturniolo]

✯𝐅𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐇𝐨𝐞✯

IN WHICH…Chris films a TikTok with his best friend to his favorite song, and things take a turn.

WARNINGS: NSFW CONTENT AHEAD!! Drinking, twerking, choking, making out, unprotected sex, cream pie, squirting, slapping, Nick freaking the fuck out.

THIS WAS A REQUEST!!!!

Chris was beyond bored.

He was currently sitting on the couch of his Boston home alone. Everyone had decided to go out (including Trevor), and Chris stayed home. He began to regret it once the boredom took over.

He huffs as he opens the wrapper around the sucker, shoving the cherry-flavored stick in his mouth.

Suddenly his phone rings, a smile taking over his face seeing the familiar name on the screen.

Y/n

She was a very close friend of the triplets and Nate. They considered her to be family based on her actions as a friend. She always made sure the boys stayed out of trouble and prospered in their YouTube career, never letting them quit and damn near beating anyone up that hurt them.

“Hey, you guys busy?” Her voice rings out. he could hear shuffling and the clinking of keys. Chris shakes his head and takes the sucker out his mouth, “Nah, everyone went out and I stayed home…You want to come over? I’m bored out of my mind and need entertainment.”

“On my way Topher! Is it ok if I crash there? I want to drink tonight.”

Chris rolls his eyes hearing that godforsaken nickname, “Stop calling me that ugly ass name. And you know you don’t have to ask.”

Y/n blows a raspberry before telling Chris she’s on her way.

Not even a full twenty minutes later, Y/n is strolling into the home as if it’s her own.

“Topher I missed you!” She wraps her arms around Chris and squeezes him tightly. “Didn’t I tell you to stop calling me that?” He questions looking down at her.

“Well unless you make me stop, it’s still being said.” He rolls his eyes but can’t help but feel some kind of way about her words.

It was known to everyone who knew Y/n that she was a bit of a flirt. It was natural for her to flirt with everyone, boys and girls. Sometimes it was on purpose, other times it was on accident.

Chris could never tell if she was doing it on purpose with him. He always received mixed signals from her.

“What drinks did you bring?” He asks as he sits back at the island. She hops onto the marble slab and pulls out a bottle of Casamigos, and some form of vodka.

“My personal favorite, casa-freak-hoe!” He snorts at her play-on-words and walks over to the fridge, grabbing a few chasers.

The two adults begin to drink, taking shot after shot as they catch up with each other. It’s not long before the liquor takes over and glosses their minds.

“Let’s do something fun!” Y/n giggles setting her shot glass down.

“Like what?”

“Ooo let’s film TikTok’s!”

Soon the two are making a fool of themselves, dancing and lip-syncing to multiple audios.

A few of them were posted, fans rushing to comment on the infamous duo finally being back together.

“Ooo let's do one to freak hoe!” Y/n urges in excitement.

“Why freak hoe?” Chris asks as he clicks on the sound.

“Because I’m a freak hoe off the Casamigos!”

Chris cackles before pressing the record button.

“Imma throw this money like a free throw-“ he lip syncs before setting the phone down. He backs up and turns to Y/n, clapping his hands to the beat before doing his little dance.

Not thinking straight due to the liquor in her system, Y/n bends over and begins throwing it back on Chris. The boy immediately becomes entranced by the way her ass moves, watching as the soft skin recoils and shakes. He’s amazed at the control of her lower body, it’s almost as if it has a mind of its own.

His hands move before he can even register his own actions, grasping her hips firmly and pulling her into him even more. He groans softly as her ass grinds against his growing tent.

Y/n feels the tent against her ass and stands up straight, whining her hips.

That’s enough to make Chris snap.

He wraps his hand around her neck and pulls her body flush against his, he pulls her head back and firmly presses his lips against hers.

The two begin to sloppily make out, teeth clashing and tongues dancing with each other. With their lips still connected, Y/n turns her body so they are chest to chest. She moans into the kiss as Chris grips her ass firmly before slapping it. She trails one of her hands down to his pants and begins palming him.

He pulls away from the kiss and rests his forehead against hers, groaning softly.

“It only took you four years,” she teases softly.

It’s true, Y/n has been trying for four years to get Chris to make a move on her, but the boy seemed to be oblivious to her advances. She knew she was flirty and he probably brushed it off but she always amped it up around him.

“Shut the fuck up-“ he grunts before planting his lips back to hers.

The two stand in the kitchen, making out for what seems like decades before Chris finally picks her up and takes her to Nick's room.

He knew Nick would be pissed but he didn’t care, he’d deal with it later.

He slams the door before moving to the bed and laying her down. It’s not long before his hands snake down to her shorts, rubbing over her through the grey material.

The erotic sounds of her wetness moving through her folds make the both of them moan.

“Already wet?”

“S’casamigos.” She admits before bucking her hips. Chris chuckles and takes the initiative to snake his hands down her shorts.

He glides his fingers through her folds before toying with her clit. “Fuck-Chris!” She whimpers throwing her head back. His fingers felt heavenly, but unfortunately she would have to experience them at a different time.

She wasn’t lying when she told Chris she’s a freak hoe off the Casamigos. She was as wet as a waterpark and she needed to be fucked hard and rough, immediately.

“Forget the foreplay Chris and fuck me!” She demands. Chris doesn’t have to be told twice, quickly stripping them both of their clothes.

He yanks her closer by her thighs, rubbing his cock between her folds. Y/n quickly becomes irritated, “Chris I swear to god if you do-Shit!” She throws her head back when he slams into her.

There’s no waiting for her to adjust, there’s no soaking in the moment, it's just Chris continuously thrusting harshly like his life depended on it.

Her legs are being held wide open as he ruts into her, his thighs ricocheting off the back of hers. His grunts and her moans bounce off the walls along with the headboard, their melodic noises filling up the empty house.

Chris presses down on her stomach and uses his thumb to rub her clit.

“Oh shit! Oh my god!” Her back arches as she feels her orgasm quickly approaching. She clenches her eyes shut only to snap them open when she feels a sting on her cheek.

“Eyes open baby, wanna see you when you cum.”

He pushes her legs back further before jack hammering into her.

“FUCK FUCK FU-“ her eyes roll back as her body withers under him, her juices coating his abdomen. “Holy shit-“ seeing her squirt was enough for Chris to stall deep inside of her, throwing his head back as he lets go.

He collapses on top of her, breathing harshly. Much to his surprise he doesn’t get to relax for long, Y/n flipping them other. She crawls on top of him and rocks back and forth, whimpering as his cock stimulates her clit.

Chris grunts and tries to stop her movements, “Jesus Christ give me a minute.”

“Stop being a fucking pussy Chris and let me ride you!”

“You’re going to be the death of me,” he mutters before letting her do what she wants. Y/n sinks down on him and immediately begins to bounce up and down.

Chris grips her hips tightly, watching her breasts bounce with low and lustful eyes. He bites his lip and trails his hand upward, tweaking and pulling at her nipples.

“Shit princess, you look so good being on top.”

He looks down between them and groans at the unholy site.

A thick white cream sits on the base of his cock, some of the cream even on the inside of her thighs as well. He watches as it spreads around each time her thighs land against his, the thunderous slapping sounds also sounding wet and sticky.

He throws his head back and closes his eyes, the feeling of his orgasm hitting him hard.

He snaps his eyes open and looks at a smirking y/n, shocked that she slapped him.

“Eyes open baby, I want to see you when you cum.”

She taunts him with his own words. He growls and snaps his hips upward, the girl yelping and falling forward. Chris wraps his hand around her throat and pushes her back up.

Y/n’s eyes roll back as Chris continues to thrust upward meeting her bouncing. “take it baby, you can handle it.”

Incoherent noises tumble from her mouth as she holds on to his wrist. “Gonna cum with me?” He pants.

“Y-yes!” She rasps out, her eyes rolling back.

He lets go of her throat and holds on to her hips once again. Y/n leans back, using one arm to support herself as she uses the other to quickly swipe back and forth against her clit.

She lets out a loud drawn out mewl as she squirts once again. Her juices land all over the bed, along with his chest. “Fuck!” She shouts at the overstimulation coming from Chris’s thrusting.

Chris grips her hips excruciatingly tight as he cums once again, holding her down in place.

“Holy shit-” He pants out. Y/n giggles tiredly as she slowly climbs off of him. Chris stops her, watching as the thick semen pools out of her and onto his now soft cock.

He doesn’t have much time to relish at the site due to the door being swung open, “Chris were home! Is Y/n he-OH MY GOD!” Nick quickly turns around at the site of his brother and their best friend naked in his bed.

“I'M ACTUALLY GOING TO KILL THE BOTH OF YOU! WHY ARE YOU HAVING SEX IN MY ROOM!? MY ROOM!” Nick slams the bedroom door, his shouting still being heard.

The two adults quickly attempt to get dressed, their intoxicated minds making them giggle at the whole ordeal. Suddenly the door is opened once again and a bottle of Lysol is thrown, hitting Chris in the head.

A paper towel roll is thrown as well and hits Y/n in the chest, “Jesus Christ Nick what the fuck!?”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP! BOTH OF YOU ARE CLEANING MY ROOM AND YOU ARE SLEEPING IN HERE TONIGHT WHILE I SLEEP IN YOUR BED CHRIS! YOU TWO ARE DISGUSTING!”

The door slams shut for the last time before footsteps are heard stomping up the stairs.

Chris rolls his eyes and goes to put his shirt on but is stopped by Y/n,

“Want to go again?”

“You weren’t lying when you said you’re a freak hoe off the Casamigos.”

He pushes her down on the bed with a smile on his face before dropping to his knees in between her legs.

I HOPE YALL ENJOYED IT!!!!🍑

TAGLIST 🍑

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[hausbabylon]

soul bounds disentwined

Wanda Maximoff x Fem Reader

Word count: 5,546

Warnings: A little angsty, I guess? And ofc Reader having a crush on Billy's mom not knowing if it's reciprocated.

A/N: This is inspired in Halsey's music video "Colors", if you have watched it, you can see where this is gonna go...

A/N: For plot purposes, let’s suppose Infinity War and subsequent events never happened, and instead, after the Civil War, Wanda decided to quit her life as a superhero. Part II coming soon!

Wanda Maximoff hired you -a photographer who urgently needed a fresh start- to capture the dishes that would be featured in her second cookbook. Her son, Billy Maximoff, interfered with what you two could have developed. He had feelings for you, and well, you had feelings for his mother.

According to Forbes (2023), Wanda Maximoff secured the third position among the wealthiest chefs worldwide. She is a living proof that we are all capable of rewriting our own story, even after a lifetime shaped by external influences.

Simone Carlisle (Culinary Arts Teacher): Ah, Wanda Maximoff… (pauses) let me tell you, no one prepares you for that feeling, where you find out that you contributed your seed to the plants of successes that one of your students planted in the garden of her life.

Wanda Maximoff (Chef, restaurant chain owner, and television presenter): For as long as I can remember, my decisions were a cycle of revenge and redemption... don't get me wrong, I don't regret beating the shit out of some idiots (laughs), but, with the busy life I led, the only moment I could pause my life was while I was hiding in Scotland with my ex-boyfriend Vision. I had no one expecting anything from me, no one telling me what to do, where to go, it was like a puppy without an owner.

Vision (Avenger, Wanda Maximoff’s ex-partner): Dear, was it a journey. First, I remember that she watched YouTube videos to learn guitar. As soon as she woke up, she grabbed the instrument, and she wasn't satisfied until her fingers got numb. In a very short time, she caught the hang of it, and played for the first time in a small bar. No one knew who she was, and if they did, they probably didn't care. She was just a talented player keeping them entertained. Afterwards, band members fought over who would give her their contact first to join them. I thought that would be the beginning of a very successful music career, because from what I've read, international artists started that way.

Wanda Maximoff: I said, “Vision, I’m never doing this again”.

Vision: She kept practicing, playing in the solitude of her room, of course. It was a hobby-kind-of-passion, not the type of passion she would like to dedicate most of her life to. She went through many of those to realize that her main passion was under her nose all along.

Wanda Maximoff: The courage to join in culinary classes arose from desperation (chuckles), I used to prepare recipes at home, and I needed someone else's approval… it couldn't come from someone who didn't even eat in the first place! And so the beginning of my trayectory was paved by this amazing teacher, Simone Carlisle.

Simone Carlisle: The shy girl who during the intensive course kept her head down, sitting on the back corner, nervously playing with her rings while ignoring whispers and glances from other students, is now in a big framed picture, placed in the most visible spot so that everyone who enters my academy knows that I taught this legend. She made my small business a huge deal now (laughs).

Wanda Maximoff: I never imagined that I would have my own cookbook, television program, or chain of restaurants, let alone all three at the same time! At first, I was content with cooking in a restaurant and earning a decent living, but later, I thought about the possibility of creating a YouTube channel, which subsequently permitted me to finance the publication of my book. Building on the success of my book, the opportunity of my show emerged, which in turn allowed me to open my first restaurant, and ultimately expand it into a chain of restaurants. What I want to convey is that you must trust that the love for what you do is a powerful tool. Success is subjective, so pursue your own concept of it.

Amy Lee (Evanescence’s lead singer and songwriter): It was a hard day of work. I didn’t feel like cooking but I was looking for the homiest, most comforting food possible, and Wanda Maximoff made it a reality with her restaurant located just a few blocks near me. I told my bandmate, Emma, about this amazing food restaurant, she replied, "Oh, the owner has a YouTube channel and a show, you should watch it so that you don't overcook the spaghetti" (laughs). It has been a great help to me ever since, for those are creative but accessible recipes. Plus, it’s a nice touch that she uses her magic to manipulate ingredients and utensils, while making you laugh with her witty jokes. The best way to put it is; she makes you feel like it's a close and sweet friend who is teaching you. Her human and warm approach felt and still feels like a pat on the back.

Wanda Maximoff: My favorite singer since adolescence, Amy Lee, has said something about me that fills me with happiness every time I remember it. She helped me cope, I helped her cook. We're even now.

Vision: You see, Wanda's powers went from being a source of fear in the world to being the main reason why said fear stopped as well. An impressive understanding in her abilities, still doesn't make her an expert, as she can't prevent unexpected situations.

Wanda Maximoff: I was six months pregnant. In the blink of an eye… literally.

The latest legacy of the Maximoff family, twins Billy and Tommy, were effortlessly admitted to Princeton University. The dean was left speechless, for their admission exam grades exceeded expectations.

Tony Stark (Avenger, Stark Industries): With Wanda, our initial connection was through business, the Avengers, you know? It wasn't until she asked me if I could offer her kids an internship at Stark Industries that we developed a closer bond, and man, were those kids geniuses!

Wanda Maximoff: Those kids... one day, they'll outgrow me (laughs). They were so eager to rush through life stages, and I thought, "You don't realize I would give everything to relive those joyful years," but I know better than to project my own frustrations on my sons.

Virginia "Pepper" Potts (Stark Industries): One day, I said goodbye to two fourteen-year-old boys. The next day, Happy informed me that some tall adults with raspy voices, claiming to be Billy and Tommy, wanted to come in. I immediately phoned Wanda, and she casually responded, "Oh, yeah, they can do that," as if maturing into college students overnight was a typical Tuesday occurrence for any teenager.

Thomas Maximoff, (Student at Princeton, son of Wanda Maximoff): What can I say? (chuckles) school didn't present any intellectual challenges for us, and, yes, they do admit child prodigies for... PhDs even! But, we wanted to blend in, to share the same age as our classmates.

Wanda Maximoff: I always considered it a priority to spend time with my boys, so I put a lot of my work on hold, including my second cookbook project. Now that they're focusing on college and their internship, I've had too much time, and by that I mean too much time to finish that unfinished work.

Wanda Maximoff had completed her second cookbook, in response to numerous requests from her loyal fans. Another book that promised to aid all those who seeked a different, quick, and above all, delicious meal at any time of the day. There was no doubt that it would become a global bestseller, just like her previous one.

All that was left were the illustrative photographs for the book, and the studio where you worked at was in charge of this task.

You meticulously made the first dish she cooked appear as exquisite as in real life. You employed several tools like lighting, background elements, and cutlery placement, but you never altered the food in any way, it didn't even cross your mind to do so. This didn't sit well with your boss, but it certainly pleased the redhead.

(Y/N) (Y/L/N) (Photographer): I remember my boss suggested that I add components to the food to make it look more appealing. I responded that that was the equivalent of encouraging unattainable stereotypes of beauty... in food (chuckles).

Wanda Maximoff: By offering unrealistic references, people would be discouraged to notice that their result was not the same as mine, not knowing that those references have hours of strategy to make it look 'aesthetic'. I prefer to show it as it is (pauses) I think that's why I liked this girl, I didn't have to say a word and she understood everything.

Your boss was the typical man who didn't let newcomers like you progress. Although you had been working in the studio for about six months, he never allowed you to touch a camera, which was contradictory because that was the job you applied for.

You did the work he didn't want to do, like transporting, positioning and removing the equipment, and setting up the scenery. That idiot just did the angles and clicked the top right button, and then took all the credit and praise. It annoyed you, yes, but unlike him, you didn't need praise from anyone to fill your ego, you just wanted to be acknowledged for your own efforts and not to be another person’s side kick.

In the meantime, it was enough satisfaction to know that none of the praise he gets would be possible without you, and he knew it…

… and Wanda knew it.

"What do you think, Miss Maximoff?" Your boss showed Wanda the array of photographs he took of the latest dish. He proudly displayed them, awaiting for a compliment from the redhead.

"Wow, (Y/N), placing the sautéed potatoes in a separate bowl instead of alongside the food within the same dish... you were right, it gives them their own protagonism and importance as a side dish," was the first thing she said, eliciting a small blush from you. "Great work!"

"Thank you, Miss Maximoff," after hearing her words, you experimented a feeling that was somewhat unfamiliar to you. It made you feel visible, truly seen and acknowledged in a workplace that often overlooked such things. And the fact that it came from her, made it all even more so profound.

"It's just Wanda," she corrected you, as if her previous actions weren't enough, she gave you the green light to address her in a more intimate manner. Along with that, your boss was already frustrated enough at not being the center of attention for two and a half hours. It was all a dream!

"(Y/N), we're done here, remove the equipment and take it to my car. I'll be waiting for you for just five minutes," your boss ordered you. Not even a ‘please’, nothing. In his gaze was evident that desperate attempt to look intimidating, which only made him look like a tantruming child. However, when his gaze turned to the older woman, he held an incredible admiration and appreciation, almost as if they were two different people in the same body. "Miss Maximoff, it was a pleasure working with you, truly an honor. We could continue next week...”

"Do you have equipment of your own, (Y/N)?" She interrupted him in mid-sentence, and you hesitated briefly.

"Uh... yes, of course, Miss... I mean, Wanda," you replied.

You worked as a freelance photographer in your spare time, capturing people or events here and there. It was something relatively stable, but it could not be your main income, so you felt the need to work on a studio.

"Perfect... I'll be contacting only you so we can work on the rest of the illustrations for the book," she stated.

(Y/N) (Y/L/N): I couldn't believe what I heard! The first thing I did was begging to whatever force there is that this wasn't a dream. It was overwhelming, the feeling of fear and ecstasy… Wanda wanted ME to work with her.

She recognized something in you within three and a half hours that others failed to see in six months. This was it. This was the big break you had been waiting for, the opportunity to show your skills and make your mark.

That being said, you never saw your boss, or stepped foot in that studio after that.

In the days that followed, you poured your heart and soul into preparing for the upcoming shoots.

You studied Wanda's previous cookbooks, familiarizing yourself with her style, her preferences. You even watched her program and her interviews, initially with the excuse of seeing those mesmerizing eyes and delighting yourself with her beauty, but you actually learned a lot of cooking techniques that you were excited to cook when it was such an annoying task for you to do.

When the day of the shoot finally arrived, you were ready. You set up your equipment with a confidence you had never felt before. You positioned the reflectors so that the natural light would bounce where you needed it, and set the scene to make the food appealing and motivating. Wanda watched you work, her eyes filled with admiration and respect.

You smiled at her as you turned on your camera, “So, what do you do with all this food after I photograph it?” You questioned curiously.

"I pack it, multiply it with my powers, and give it to the homeless," she explained. "It's something I often do, in fact, but I prefer to keep good deeds a secret, and not brag about it," she added. “I would appreciate it if you don’t say anything.”

"I figured that about you," you smiled sympathetically.

"You figured?"

“You have always used your skills to help," you elaborated, and noticed she slightly scrunched her nose, as a way of disagreeing. "Yes, even when you were working for Hydra, Tony Stark was destroying territories left and right, and you were seeking justice, doing what you felt was right," you added, noticing how her face showed an expression of realization. "And now, you focus on helping people who struggle with thinking of a simple but good meal in the midst of a hectic routine, and not so much on showing off how good you are at cooking exotic dishes. So yes, I assumed you would also help those who can't even afford a meal, too.”

Wanda's gaze was lost in the white marble of her kitchen floor, and you knew you gave her a new perspective on the wrongs she had done in her past. She meant well all along, and ultimately, that's what mattered. She was a great person in the present, and that's what mattered.

"So, you're the photographer in question," a tall, curly-haired guy stepped into the kitchen doorway, interrupting the train of thought of the woman in front of you.

You laughed at the expression on her face as reality hit her again.

"Oh, yes. Sweetheart, this is (Y/N)," she introduced you to who you already knew was her son. "And (Y/N), this is my son Billy."

"Nice to meet you, Billy," you replied, approaching him to offer your hand to shake.

"The pleasure is all mine," he emphasized the last words, as he accepted your hand. "My mom didn't mention that you were so beautiful."

Wanda cleared her throat, and proceeded to look at him with surprise in her eyes. In a I-can’t-believe-you-said-that way.

You couldn't help but laugh again at how expressive she was without noticing it.

But in their perspective, from how you looked the other direction and chuckled softly, you seemed to snicker at Billy's flattery, which couldn't be further from the truth. He was corny and predictable, but most importantly, he was not Wanda Maximoff.

"Oh, forgive him, he still doesn't know how to control those sky-high hormones," Wanda said, grabbing Billy's shoulders from behind to guide him out of the kitchen.

You noticed that she was already shorter than her son by a few centimetres. This was nostalgic for any mother, but how must Wanda have felt watching it happen overnight? You were curious.

"No problem," you replied, and headed for the counter to begin photographing.

Billy entered the kitchen again, standing next to you, but not close enough to invade your space, which you thanked internally.

"Do you mind if I watch you work, (Y/N)?" Billy requested, and you smiled politely.

"Billy! Don't you have an internship to go to?" Wanda interfered before you could answer.

"Pepper and Tony organized a party at the tower," he replied victoriously.

"College homework?"

"Piece of cake. I finished it an hour ago."

“How about you enjoy your free time and go bowling with your brother?”

“He’s busy playing Fortnite online,” he shrugged.

Wanda rolled her eyes, "Behave yourself. That's the only condition."

"It's okay, Wanda," you reassured her. Each stage in a child's life is gradual, and parents usually have many years to learn about what each stage entails. It was understandable that Wanda didn't know what to do now that her children were suddenly old enough to drink and get into adult trouble.

"So, (Y/N), how long ago did you start this whole photography gig?" The taller guy spoke up, once you took your first picture.

"I've been doing it since I was thirteen," you replied, still capturing the image in before you at different angles. "Dedicating myself to this? As soon as I turned eighteen. I had a decent portfolio."

"I don't doubt it," he agreed.

You gave him a slight thankful smile, and walked over to Wanda, who was setting up the second dish to be photographed.

"What do you think?"You asked her, and it wasn't until she turned to look at the camera that you noticed that this is the closest you've ever been to her. You could smell her fragrance and hear her breathing. Your mind was screaming at you to move away, for you had no right to display such trust yet, on the contrary, your body needed to be as close as possible... to feel her.

You had never touched her, not even when she greeted you this afternoon. She simply opened her door and let you enter.

"Excellent. The blueberries next to the gluten-free blueberry pancakes are wet,” she commented. “Did you do it to provide a sense of freshness?" She inquired, looking into your eyes this time, and... the charm of her green eyes was incomparable.

Throughout life, you've seen different shades of green, but hers were unique. They seemed to have a whole story to tell, as if she gave them that power. Her eyes glowed with an emerald hue that mesmerized anyone who met her gaze, and you were no exception.

“Exactly, that’s what I did,” you confirmed, and you felt your cheeks burning, which you immediately hid by looking down and walking back to the counter.

The only interactions you had with Wanda were to get her to approve your photographs, since her son didn’t allow you both a second to talk. He didn’t cease to ask you all sorts of questions, and to keep the conversation going, you responded with brief 'and you?'s so that he still felt heard and had the space to reveal details about himself.

It was all natural for you. Your work was also based on creating a liveliness in the environment where you performed, plus you got more genuine reactions from people if you made them laugh and feel comfortable. However, you always ended up talking with whoever was willing to, even if you were not there to capture them.

In fact, you were enjoying the conversation with such a charismatic guy. At first, it felt overwhelming, but just by letting the topics flow, you ended up laughing and feeling more at ease with him. In any case, you would be meeting him more than once in the eight weeks that remained before the project was completed.

Once you had finished photographing the ten dishes for the week, you turned off your camera and put it back in its case.

You were too happy with the results. This was all done by you alone, and you would be recognized for it. Never again would your boss's name appear under the pictures that were all your doing. The moment Wanda sends your photographs to the publisher, your name would appear in the book credits, and so a new story would begin.

And Wanda... oh, Wanda made it so clear that she loved your work, and paid so much attention to detail. Not only did she praise you, but she made it a point to let you know that she had indeed noticed the details that to the average eye would go unnoticed. You didn't know if you were really developing a crush, or if it was just the fact that she was an older woman that satisfied that need for attention that you rarely got... or it could be both.

When you were working on your own, you didn't feel exhausted and drained despite the long working hours, unlike when you were in the studio. You were very grateful that Wanda had given you another opportunity like that, and you were confident that it could become a regular thing.

"Wow, seeing all these dishes without having eaten lunch has really made me hungry," you laughed, proceeding to remove the reflectors from the kitchen’s window. The sky was still clear. You started at a perfect timing to take advantage of natural light.

"You haven't eaten? Look at the time! I thought you had eaten before you came!" She exclaimed. The redhead actually looked concerned. "Do you have any idea of the damage you're doing to your body? You need energy for this kind of work."

"Hey, I wanted to make a joke and you ruined it with your lecture," you protested.

Wanda sighed, and shook her head disapprovingly, which made your heart crumble a little.

“I… I’ll get some food on the way home,” you corrected yourself.

"How about you stay for dinner? I was going to make it, Tommy won't be long before he comes back to the real world and notices he's hungry," she offered kindly.

"Oh! Or I can take you out for dinner somewhere nice!" Billy proposed, smiling at you with anticipation.

To be brutally honest, you wanted to throw yourself at him and choke him so no other words would come out of his mouth. You knew Billy was just a guy with a silly crush, excited to show you how interested he was in you. He wasn't trying to do any harm. But, hell, wasn't it enough for him to be the center of your attention all afternoon?

"I'm really looking forward to trying something made by your mom," you declined in the politest way possible. "Many people would kill for that honor!"

Wanda let out a laugh, and her expression also seemed to change as she heard your decision to stay.

But, oh, Billy, Billy, Billy... as persevering as his mother.

"Awww! Next week she'll cook you something, right mom?" he insisted, and even though the redhead tried hard to keep her smile, her eyes changed.

"Sure, I'll cook whatever you want," Wanda sighed. "Go with Billy, and continue your conversation... alone," the way she said that last word was as if she had felt like the third wheel all afternoon, as if she was a hindrance to whatever was starting between you and Billy.

"You owe me," you said to Wanda, letting her know implicitly that you were looking forward to your meeting next week, not this dinner with Billy.

Billy led you to the garage of his house, and opened the passenger door of a black car. You thanked him politely and got in, allowing him to close the door for you. The car was completely spotless, and had a new car smell, but not because it was new, maybe because that was the fragrance he asked for at the car wash. For yours, you always opted for lavender… which made you wonder, what fragance did Wanda like for her car?

"Any preferences?" Billy asked once he hoped in the driver’s seat, pointing towards the car radio. It was noticeable he was doing his best to make this comfortable for you.

"A little bit of everything, how about rock like... Evanescence?" you proposed.

"Ah, my mom loves them," he commented, and your eyes lit up at that statement.

"You're kidding..."

"Yeah, since her teenage years," he confirmed. "Evanescence, In This Moment, Epica, Lacuna Coil..." he listed, trying to remember them all.

You made a mental note to put on that music on your next meeting with Wanda. It wouldn't be hard, as you loved all the bands he mentioned, which was wonderful.

You couldn't wait to show her the latest bands, ask her her favorite songs, and have a topic of conversation that would allow you to bound...

"So, ready?" he spoke, noticing that you were lost in thought.

"Yeah, sure," you nodded, putting on your seatbelt.

The dinner was... better than you expected. In fact, it was amazing.

You didn't really have anything in common with Billy, but the way you both listened to each other, and always found a middle ground despite going your separate ways, made the experience with him extremely pleasant.

The only difference was that, as you each went home, he thought about seeing you again, and you thought about seeing his mother again.

And so, after a week, you found yourself in front of the door of Wanda's house, with your camera hanging from your neck, your equipment already waiting on the pavement next to your parked car, and as a bonus, a speaker you brought along to play music while you worked.

Alone, at last...

When the door opened, you found the redhead wearing a casual outfit consisting of dark blue jeans and a black half-tucked in blouse. Oh, and her face, how you missed that face.

"Hey..." You greeted her, with palpable enthusiasm.

"Hi," she replied, and noticed the speaker in your hand, arching her eyebrow. "I found out last week that you and I have a lot of bands in common."

Wanda let out a gasp of surprise, "Oh, please do come in!"

You laughed briefly, and as you were about to enter your equipment to take it towards the kitchen, Wanda snapped her fingers, and it disappeared.

"Wanda, what the hell?" You exclaimed, looking at her with your widened eyes, had she just disappeared all your belongings?

"Relax, they're in the kitchen."

"That skill of yours would’ve come in handy last week too," you commented, walking into her house.

"It was fun watching you run in and out," she shrugged. "But today you earned it, because of the music."

"I see, I have to earn it?!" You exclaimed, feigning indignation. Really, she could have pulverized your expensive equipment in front of you, and you'd still thank her.

Once both of you entered the kitchen, your reflectors were already in the same position as always. And on the other side, the ten dishes were already hot and ready to be photographed.

"And what would I possibly have to do next week to earn that help from you?" you asked, resuming the topic you had discussed earlier.

"Mmmm..." she muttered, in a way that almost made you weak in the knees. She watched you from head to toe making you feel exposed to her as if she had ripped your clothes to shreds and left you standing there, naked and at her mercy. But you were still completely covered. "... I think you've earned it,” your reaction alone was enough reward to her.

“Thanks, I guess,” you cleared your throat.

You picked up the speaker, and turned it on, placing it in a place in the kitchen where it would not interfere. Your hands were shaking, and you could have sworn that Wanda was watching you with amusement, while you avoided her gaze at all costs.

You grabbed your phone, and played the playlist you had prepared for this moment. "A Star-Crossed Wasteland" by In This Moment was the first to come on.

"Oh, I love that song like you have no idea," Wanda exclaimed, closing her eyes and frowning as she passionately listened to that intro. "That album, in general..."

"It's in my top three," you commented.

"Hell yeah! Now we're talking!" She exclaimed, raising her hand offering you a high-five.

"I'm not that old school," you shook your head, chuckling.

Wanda rolled her eyes, and took your wrist, giving herself a high five with your hand.

"Good girl," she praised you, and you swallowed dryly. At the words, and at the fact that this was the first time you'd ever touched her. "What's your top three?" she asked, acting so nonchalantly after flustering the hell out of you.

“Tell me yours first,” you proposed. You couldn’t even think of your favorite three albums of one of your favorite bands.

"Black Widow, GODMODE, and A Star-Crossed Wasteland, she answered, almost without thinking. It amused you to imagine she'd spent her whole life for someone to ask her that question. "And yours?"

"Black Widow is my favorite, too," you agreed. "Blood, and A Star-Crossed Wasteland."

"Oh, two in common and in the same position," she pointed out, smiling. "If the new album hadn't been so good, it would agree with Blood, too…”

For the rest of the evening, the focus was on your favorite bands, as they played in the background.

You finished faster than last week, as Wanda was willing to use her powers for you to just arrange the background and take the pictures, instead of searching in every corner of the kitchen - you only had to ask, and it appeared.

“Alright, we're done...” she concluded, excited. “Now, let me pack this food and put it in the fridge,” and with a snap of her fingers, it was already packed and subsequently perfectly placed inside the fridge.

“Impressive,” you exclaimed, not ceasing to show your admiration, just like every time she used her powers. If you didn't look so cute, Wanda would have grown irritated at you a long time ago.

“Now, I owe you a dinner,” she said. She never told you, but she was so eager to finish quickly because that way, when her sons returned from the internship, you and her would have spent a significant time together.

The food Wanda made for you was... you didn’t even believe that the accurate word to describe it even existed.

The sensations you experimented had you mindlessly closing your eyes, trying to memorize this magnificent meal, absorbing it all in. You had tried a lot of different restaurants and foods, but none like this, oh they wished they were even close to what you tasted.

This was more than just eating. It was a demonstration of peak exquisite cuisine. This was about more than just sating hunger. It was about the delight of tasting food prepared with passion.

And... just as Wanda was leading you out of the door, you noticed that it opened, and you met who you knew was Tommy.

"Oh, finally I have the pleasure to meet the famous (Y/N)," was the first thing he said. So Wanda... "Billy hasn't shut up about you."

You forced a smile, "That's... nice," you hesitated. "I have a feeling he's going to be a great friend, and I hope you are too."

Tommy noted the intent of your response but decided to reply, "Of course," with a small chuckle. "In fact, you should come play tennis with us next Saturday."

"Oh, I don't know how to..."

"I'll teach you," Wanda quickly interjected, and that hope in her eyes made your decision easier in an instant.

"Well... will you send me the address?" I asked.

"Rest assured."

When you said goodbye to Wanda and Tommy, Billy was climbing the steps to the doorway, and he smiled broadly at you.

"Hi, (Y/N)!" He exclaimed happily. "Have you eaten yet? If not, we can go eat something and catch up."

Oh, how kind he was...

"Thank you, your mom and I already had dinner."

It was Saturday, and you were walking around the room in your apartment. Your best friend, Kate, was already starting to get dizzy.

"Kate! It's a country club!" You exclaimed, for probably the twentieth time. "People there probably eat pizza with silverware, and know the use of all ten thousand kinds of forks. I won't fit in..."

"It's just a tennis game! I'd understand if it was golf, but tennis?! You'll be fine!" She groaned.

"I look ridiculous..." you shook your head, looking at yourself in the mirror. "I mean, what is this cap? And why all white? Am I getting baptized or something?"

"Hey! Do you want to fit in? This is the outfit," she countered. "You look hot, surely Wanda will drool over you when she sees those legs," she cheered you up

"Surely it will be Billy," you sighed, disappointed.

"Wanda too, from what you've told me..."

"No, this is one of the situations where I'm misinterpreting a hint of validation from an older, beautiful woman," you quickly denied. "And as always, my best friend is encouraging my delusions."

"Really? Name one situation."

"That Italian woman who I photographed with her family for several Christmas sessions?"

"Ha! She looked at you funny."

"Yeah, that's why she turned down my invitation to dinner when I finally found the courage, saying I knew she had a husband and kids."

"Uhm... she refused just because she had a husband and kids, not because she didn't like you!" She quickly justified, and you couldn't help but laugh, forgetting for a moment the nerves that were eating at you.

[sokkastyles]

Whenever I see antis saying that Zuko was rude or selfish to confront Katara about her anger towards him, I always have to roll my eyes at the attempt to make a big deal out of a conflict that was already solved in canon, and there's a lot to be said about how Zuko is actually the only one to care enough about Katara's emotional state to recognize that she needs help, and that's something the show literally spells out by having the others just sit there confused (even though they were there when Katara told them about how she felt about Zuko and his betrayal in Ba Sing Se, so it's odd that none of them seem to understand what's going on when it's quite obvious to the viewers.)

But another aspect of this is that Katara's behavior is explicitly a cry for help. A lot of her angry and dramatic reactions towards Zuko are extremely over-the-top, not to characterize Katara as unreasonable, but to show that Katara's bitterness towards Zuko is masking the hurt she felt towards him. In "The Western Air Temple," she spells this out to the gaang, telling them that she felt like he was really confused and hurt, and that she felt sorry for him, but then states that he was just pretending to be a real human being. Of course, Katara does not really believe that Zuko is not a real person with feelings, and her confrontation with him later in the episode reveals that her anger at him actually stems from knowing that he's actually all too human. Because she knows now that he's capable of making mistakes, even when his intentions are good.

The fact that Katara chooses to confront Zuko alone at the end of this episode also makes Zuko confronting her at the beginning of "The Southern Raiders" a circular part of their arc. What's that about yin and yang always circling each other?

But what's more, is that Katara continues to have these exaggerated reactions to Zuko, often going out of her way to needle him. This is not the behavior of someone who wants nothing to do with another person. It could be behavior indicative that Katara wants to hurt Zuko because he hurt her, but then you have situations like her asking to hear his tea joke, which she wouldn't do if all she wanted was for him to stay away from Aang.

Then, when Zuko saves Katara from falling rocks at the beginning of "The Southern Raiders," her reaction is immediate and accusatory at him landing on top of her. It's a very obviously romantically coded scene, and a large part of the humor is derived from Katara acting like Zuko is doing it on purpose, which of course he is not. There's no way Katara would really think that, right? So why does she accuse him of it?

I would argue that she did it for the same reason she confronted him alone in "The Western Air Temple," the same reason she makes exaggerated statements about his lack of humanity, the same reason she is constantly needling him.

Katara wants Zuko's attention. She wants him to know how she feels, all the anger, hurt, and betrayal, and thus, all the things she did feel under Ba Sing Se, when she thought it was possible that he was someone she had connected with. And she wants to know if he feels the same way, and is angry if he doesn't, or angry if he does, because that makes the betrayal even worse.

So when Katara makes another needling comment towards Zuko before stalking off, while everyone but Zuko continues to sit and puzzle over what could possibly be wrong, I'm pretty sure that some part of Katara wanted Zuko to follow her, to ask her what was wrong, to care.

The fact that she forgives him at the end of the episode is confirmation of this. Zuko is not admonished by the narrative or told that he should mind his own business, or forced to learn a lesson about how it was selfish of him to ask for forgiveness. The focus is on Zuko trying to figure out what Katara needs, recognizing that she needs something from him, and even being able to admit that he doesn't specifically know how to give it to her but letting her figure it out for herself.

[alwaysalir]

Let’s talk about why Colin Bridgerton is THE BEST Male Lead.

He actually went Pen less then an episode after he realizes he’s in love with her. IMO while the kiss did make him reevaluate his feelings, the fact he is actually in love with her does not click for him until that ball at the end of episode 3. We literally see the moment in clicks. He talking to the other debutant about his hero moment and he catches Pen’s eye and he realizes the reason he was able to have the courage to save the day is because it was Pen in danger and he would do anything for her. He then goes to Violet for advice and when she tells him he needs to have the courage to ask he walks towards Pen with purpose. Yes he let self out get in his way for a minute, but still before the end of episode 4 he has gone full unhinged to get the girl. It was a really BOLD move to interrupt an expected proposal but he did not care. He was a man on a mission and he delivered.

Colin literally said fuck societal norms. That man’s entire arc is about him feeling uncomfortable with the role of a typical man in that era. Yes he does play along for a while but that’s speech to those annoying dudes after he’s unable to do what society expect him to do in a brothel was so refreshing for a male lead in a regency Romance. Colin is still super young but he’s already over the Cavalier Way men regard sex. He wants love. He wants connection. He wants his sexual encounters to matter.

That man is literally the king of consent. Not only does he wait for her to consent to them moving from kissing to more he also gives her the space to reject him after his confession. And let’s talk about the confession. I’ve seen this talked about and a lot of places, but it’s still so amazing and so true… the reason that confession is so good is because it’s not the declaration made out of anger like we’ve seen in the previous seasons. Newts managed to make the confession so soft yet screaming with passion and desperation. 

I’ve seen a lot of complaints about how Colin did not yearn enough, but I feel like what people don’t realize is Colin has been a yearning for this for seasons. No he didn’t realize that Penelope could give him what he was yearning for, but that boy has always been yearning for love acceptance and connection and he’s finally realized that Penelope is the one that can give him all of those things. It’s literally the most beautiful climax that has been seasons in the making

[pixiesndberries]

LABYRINTH

— "social media lowkey" F2 driver was seen together with a famous F1 driver? are they together? PART 01

⑅ pairings : Lando Norris & Fem!F2Driver Reader.

— faceclaim : no specific face claim for the reader, joão felix, and magui corceiro (PART 02 !).

⑅ warnings : reader is kind of an introvert?

⑅ note : NONE OF THESE ARE REAL! tweets do not exist in real life and all fictional, photos are not mine and i am not claiming it as mine. None of these happened in real life, like I said this is all fictional ᯓ★ it's been long pookies, i hope you enjoy this one!

MEETING LANDO NORRIS, what could go wrong right? well, that's what she thought at least — she never met this man in her life before, though she is familiar because obviously he's one of the famous F1 drivers and to be honest she's been waiting for this since she's a reserve driver for Mclaren. She never knew she would feel this way, what way? she never have felt this pleasant in her life this quick before — pleasant? comfy? warm? whatever you call it.

despite the cold weather talking to him was thawing the cold feeling inside her, this quick? yes.

"Lando Norris, just Lando." he laughs with his eyes squinting and those wrinkles building up under his eyes, for a moment she doesn't know what to do because she's really bad at socializing despite getting surrounded by many people almost everyday.

"y/n l/n, it's very nice to meet you." she says with a nod and a small grin, the man sticks out his hand offering a hand shake which she quickly accepted — his warm hands having contact with hers, a cold one.

why am i so nervous? she gulps.

"well, how are we doing y/n?" he chuckles still having that such smile plastered on his face which made her get in with the vibe, her fave moving itself to give him her nicest smile as she spoke "doing just fine, never expected to meet you." she laughs.

"that's good."

"what about you?"

usually conversation ends with that's good whenever someone asks her, but suddenly her mouth uttered those words — in the corner of her eyes she can see suzie throwing a hold up look on both of them yet with a smile.

even me, i would throw that reaction.

and well, after those words she spoke their conversation have gotten far almost telling everything about herself and how did she managed to enter this situation where she drives for PREMA and the only woman in F2 as of now — how did how are we doing went to,

"that's interesting, yeah?"

"yes, well actually —"

"he followed me on Instagram."

"who?" says by her friend who threw her a confused look thinking who is this girl talking about, she never really cared about her social media after her and that you know who broke up.

"lando, lando norris."

her friend quickly stood up from her seat, her phone slipping from her hands as she stood up — she quickly jump next to y/n checking her phone which made her have this icky reaction.

"girl seriously? have you seen what your fans says on twitter."

"..no?"

"fuck, let me see." her friends says as she grabbed her phone quickly than a snatcher which made her sigh.

as she was looking through her phone, y/n sat there thinking still about their interaction — she never told everyone what she felt that time except for her friend, that's why she reacted like this. y/n never really took her feelings seriously, maybe she's just infatuated by his looks and kindness and nothing else serious.

I guess, hopefully?

"girl you like him right? you should post shit omg."

"no? what, i never said i like him?"

"you know, i feel something when i met lando." her friend mocked her with the same stern yet genuine tone she had whenever she's talking, "tell me you didn't like him."

"that doesn't mean it's romantic?"

"it is, soon."

y/n scratches her hair as her response, it's nothing and it's weird to fall in love with someone that quick.

not long enough, expect the expected they started to hang out for PR purposes only but who thought both of them could enjoy it — it's not like she's an antisocial or something but she never really had close friends in F2 or in the past, unless from her non-celebrity friends who grew up with her.

even behind cameras they hangout a lot, they sometimes would play video games together or basically just do recreational activities together outdoor and indoor — they got close pretty quickly and it's only been three months since they met.

having Lando with her feels nice especially when they just talk, just them alone — i mean no meaning behind it but the intimacy, it feels comfortable like no judgement, no negative shit, and it's literally just them talking about the things they love and for her communication is something she lacked and this make everything feels better.

"can i see?" lando chuckles as he peaks through her phone leaning a little more on her side so he can see the pictures of her cats.

"here." she smiles proudly showing the photos of her cats, there are three of them.

"oh they need to be here, i need to see them they look adorable as hell." lando laughs pointing at the chubby baby cats in her phone.

"should i?"

"if you wouldn't mind."

"sure, why not."

UH OH, IM FALLING IN LOVE.

〇 landonorris 53s ago.

viewed by carlossainz55 and 43, 988 others.

six months, it's been six freaking months of them being friends.

she understand, why she's feeling like this.

feeling like what?

she doesn't know either but whenever he's around that smile on her face appears like he's rainbow showing up in the darkest clouds of her life after storms — she felt more inspired to be better not only as a person but to be better in the things she does.

"why are you not posting much in your account? sorry if the question was personal just curious." lando sags but then feeling embarrassed after his question because it might a little personal for you, who knows.

for a moment she thought about what to say thinking if she would pull the savory answer or the real answer — him and lando might be friends but she's not so sure yet, wether to tell him.

he might judge me

why would he?

uh i don't know.

he's gone through break-up as well why would he not understand?

she's basically debating with herself.

"i just don't want to be active in social media after my uh" for a moment she was breathing heavily as she plays with her fingers.

"it's okay you don't have to."

"after me and dami��n broke up i don't feel really like it and it's okay."

it's true after what damièn have done to their relationship she doesn't want to do anything else but to drive.

"im sorry to hear that." he says as he puts his hands on her shoulder, caressing it with his thumb showing a sympathy.

"it's alright and i already moved on." she says with a nod and a smile making lando smile as well.

"i think you should post more, your fans are going crazy in twitter." he laughs "no pressure."

"really? never been on twitter a lot so."

〇 y/n.instagram

♫ Desperado — Rihanna

y/n.instragam | 🏎️

liked by kimi.antonelli, landonorris and 698,332 others.

mclaren 🫣

liked by creator.

landonorris kudos to the person who did the camera work 🫡

↳ y/n.instagram credits to you 😒

↳ flowersandlilysfor.y/n the voices inside my head is telling me that they're something.

↳ landonowinssmh23 ayo

zak.osullivan wowwwww

liked by creator.

racerbia babe wake up, y/n posted ☝️

↳ y/n.instagram 🫂

lilymhe i miss you! 🥹

↳ y/n.instagram i miss u too!

lewishamilton 🙌🏾

liked by the creator.

embutidoseller22 SHE'S BACK OMG

oscar_pastry0 TELL A FRIEND OF A FRIEND THAT SHE'S BACKKKKKK

luis.png DID SHE REMEMBER HER PASSWORD NOW

user263726 lmao the f2 boys liking

whatdaheel_55 stay away from lando

user136739 instead of posting can you actually practice more lol?

landooo.borris SHE POSTED GUYS THE QUEEN IS BACK

damiii_fan32 did she already moved on?

user463659 LANDO COMMENTED OMG

y/nflowers.99 lando pulled her? LUCKY MAN

↳ whatdaheel_55 no they're not together

juststeve7 absolutely gorgeous 🤤

iloebpearljam WE NEED MORE YOU AND LANDO PLS 🙏

load more comments...

OH NO, IM FALLING IN LOVE.

9 months and still going, Lando is someone that she never expected to come in her life that she would be needing — the amount of comfort he provides her was everything she could ask for, their friendship was really something for both of their lives.

"hey, thank you for coming." he says wiping his lips using the soft tissue that was placed in the table, "i know you're pretty busy." he added as he threw the used tissue away.

"it's alright, the pasta made everything worth it." she chuckles sipping on the cold glass of water lando gave her.

"i know im no chef but thank you." he laughs

"what? you literally cook the best." she insists

he went silent for a moment giving her the glare like at this moment she was the only one who matters — she gulps then places the water back into the table, the sound making lando snapped back.

"thank you again, you don't know how much im so thankful for you." he says with that soft endearing tone.

why is he saying this? right now that- whatever.

it's making her heart flutter and she doesn't even know what to say, the way he looks at her and talks to her — she doesn't know what to feel at that moment, it's like her whole body was raising and she couldn't bring herself to speak.

".. you know i always got you right?" she smiles

"yeah." he nodded "and i could say the same thing." he smiles.

his smile, that damn smile — ever since from the start that what absolutely caught her attention, the way he smile was everything. It's making her feel something, special? she's fully aware that they're friends but something inside her that she couldn't describe keeps knocking out of her heart.

do i love him?

of course you do, you're friends.

no i mean like, i love him like he's the only that matters.

"anyway, you ready for some ice cream?"

"yeah, of course, ive been waiting for you to ask that."

OH, IM FALLING IN LOVE ..

ᯓ★ pixiesndberries 2024 ! i don't allow my work to be share in any platforms without my permission — REBLOGS, LIKES, AND FOLLOW WOULD BE APPRECIATED !

[chuuyasheaven]

Lovely wife on the surface, freak under the sheets !! (Fyodor, Dazai, Chuuya)

TAGS. F. Dostoevsky, D. Osamu, C. Nakahara (separately) / Wife! Fem! Reader, p in v, oral sex, Fyodor’s might not be as spicy as the other two, masturbating (Fyodor), teasing, pet names, slight praise and degrading, slight brat taming (Fyodor, Chuuya), breeding kink (Chuuya), mentions of getting prego (Chuuya), might have grammar errors, etc.

NOTES. First two finals were good, yesterday in the english one, there was a task of writing a story and guess what I did? I wrote a cringy angsty soukoku fan fic 😭 but yeah small Drabble to feed y’all pookies!!!

F. DOSTOEVSKY

Everyone thinks you and Fyodor are a good match, because look at you! His pretty little wife who does everything she’s told, never thinking of saying ‘no’ to her husband.

But sometimes, you like being a little disobedient just to get punished by him. So that’s why you probably were fingering yourself, the cold wedding ring adding more to the pleasure. When Fyodor caught you, your legs were spread and your wet cunt was on display for him, so he obviously knew that you let yourself get caught on purpose.

“Such a naughty little wife, hm?”, Fyodor hummed as he slowly let his finger drag across your wet folds, picking up your wetness. “My, my, look at how wet you are, darling. Couldn’t even wait for me to come back, no? You know your fingers aren’t good as mine.”, he was right, his pale, long slender fingers could reach spots you never could on your own. “I know, but you took so long!!”, you whined, “Please help me out, Fedya.”, Fyodor chuckled, two fingers, going around your dripping cunt to avoid it. “I don’t know, a naughty wife who doesn’t follow her husbands orders shouldn’t get the pleasure they crave.”, wasn’t he right though? He specifically told you not to pleasure yourself when he wasn’t around, didn’t he?

“C’mon, Fedya, please!”, you begged him, moving around to get his fingers to touch your cunt at least once. “So desperate, aren’t we?”, he teased, a smirk making it on his face. “I’ll never do it again, promise. . You were gone for too long and I just missed you! Please, please, please, Fedya! Need your fingers in me.”, aw that’s cute, maybe he should give in to your pleas? “Do you think you deserve it, my dear?”, you better not lie and say something he didn’t wanna hear. “No but I’ll make it up to you! I will earn it.”, Fyodor really didn’t think of this answer, but went with it either way. “You’re gonna earn it?”, you nodded and sat up. “Promise.”, He was satisfied with that.

“Then come and earn it, love.”

D. OSAMU

Dazai wasn’t the possessive type, but when it came to you, his wife, then he might be. Especially when a man was flirting with you, even though you clearly have a ring on your finger! Luckily for you, Dazai was with you when this happened earlier. All that happened because of the dress you had on, a dress which was hugging your figure nicely, hell, if he didn’t know any better he would be flirting with you too!

Well, bless the heavens and the above for catching you before anyone else did, because you feel way too good than you should, he also had the privilege of ripping the very same dress of off you.

“You look way too sexier than you should, ‘donna.”, Dazai was working his tongue on your cunt, sending light vibrations to it by talking to you. You just nodded, being a little spent because this was going on for two rounds straight. “Oh, so you agree?”, he asks you, his hot breath moving further away from your cunt. “No, Dazai— don’t stop!”, you whined, but Dazai just chuckled deeply. “I gotta disagree with you on this one, sweetheart. . I think you’re rather divine, your taste especially.”, this teasing asshole, why was he asking you questions instead of making you cum for a third time. “My beautiful wife, thinking she isn’t sexy. . Maybe I need to convince her?”, Dazai was standing up, giving you the illusion of depriving you of your— much deserved in your opinion —orgasm. But no, he was far from done with you.

The amount of bliss you felt when he pushed his cock in you, nearly screaming of how sudden it was to you. “I think I already know how to.”, his hips started moving against yours while his hands were holding onto yours. Your moans were pulled from you again, you grabbed the sheets in the amount of pleasure he made you feel.

“Gonna make you feel so good, baby. . Just keep being such a good wife for me, ‘kay?”

C. NAKAHARA

Before your husband, Chuuya, came through the door, you were backing him a small cake. Just like a good wife should, also wearing a cute apron with the saying “Kiss the chef”. All went well so far and Chuuya walked through the door, not to greet you, that is.

You are a good wife, but sometimes you can be a little deceiving. A prime example being those photos you sent Chuuya at least a hour before his work ended, photos which included you in his favorite lace lingerie with the caption “miss you”. And what was your reason? Just to tease him a little, maybe a little motivation to work faster to get home earlier.

He was impatient, he’s been waiting for a hour to get home to you, just to not even get to the bedroom. That’s right, he was gonna take you right at the kitchen counter. Chuuya took off your shirt to see you were still wearing the set, a smirk was curving up on his lips. “You’re still wearing this, doll?”, he asked you, since you were bent over the counter he couldn’t see your smile on your face, but he could hear your giggle. “Yeah, just for you.”, you admitted in a teasing tone. “Just for me? Well then allow me. .”, he replied, pulling your lace panties to the side.

Chuuya wasn’t going slow at it, he was basically going so fast and hard that the counter legit started to shake slightly. His hips slapping against your ass, your moans filling the kitchen along side by his groans and breathy cursing. “Couldn’t wait for me to— mhm, fuck —to come home, hm? Sendin’ me photos of you looking so perfect sayin’ you miss me.”, he groaned, all you replied with was a moan. “Such a little slut, you jus’ wanted to get fucked, didn’t you? Teasin’ me at work just for a good fuck.”, Chuuya could feel his orgasm approaching, your cunt clenching around him only sped up the process.

“Ch–chuuya— ngh!”, you moaned out his name in bliss, Chuuya sped up the pace. “Want me to cum inside you, baby? Want me to fill you up so fuckin’ good?”, he asked in a low mocking tone, waiting for a response from you. “Y–yes! Ah— please!”, his cock twitched when you gave him the permission. “Yeah? Gonna fill you up so much you’ll be leakin’. . ‘till you might get pregnant.”, he didn’t really mean it, did he? It was all in the heat of the moment, right? Nonetheless, it turned you on with the way he said it. A deep chuckle was heard from him as he felt you clench down again. “You like that, doll? You wanna get pregnant with our child— oh fuck —you’re squeezin’ me so tight. . You sure you want it?”, you repeatedly moaned a yes, making him smirk. “C–cumming!”, you almost screamed, the amount of pleasure being a bit overwhelming.

“Yeah, just like that. . Take it like a good girl, baby. Hm— keep clenchin’ like that so nothin’ spills, understood?”

Hi again 😋 hope y’all are well fed now :3

[yinyuedijun]

🍉 – fics for gaza

hi all, I am currently accepting wip sponsorships as part of the @ficsforgaza initiative! this summer is quite busy for me, so I only have a few wips available for sponsorship for the time being. when things slow down, I’ll add requests and/or update the wip sponsorships available, so please look forward to that!

🍉 – sponsor a wip for gaza

rate: $1 per 100 words – e.g. $10 for 1k words

how it works: please make a donation to a verified fundraiser and send me an ask with a screenshot with proof of donation (with your personal information censored) + a link to the fundraiser + the name of the wip you want to sponsor. for every 1USD you donate I'll write one hundred words for the wip you've chosen! the asks will not be published. I will update a separate post with the donated fundraiser + date to let you know that your request has gone through.

wips available for sponsorship:

✧ another man’s treasure – aventurine x afab!reader (fem presentation) – deranged casino pwp

Aventurine wins you in a game of poker. He decides to cash out his prize right then and there—to take you on the card table, laid out among all the chips and cards. There’s usually a feeling of emptiness after the rush of a win, but when he gets to enjoy you as part of his prize, all he feels is bliss.

– words sponsored: 1,000/1,000

– words written: 0/1,000

✧ night flower – omega!aventurine x gn!alpha!reader – omegaverse fic

Sometimes he wishes that he could have more with you—that he could be more than a defective product, a Sigonian slave. That he might someday feel your lips on his neck, that your teeth could tear through the commodity code on his nape, that you could replace his brand with a mating bite.

But Aventurine knows that you would never want him—and he knows that he could never stay with you, even if you did.

– words sponsored: 1,000/4,000

– words written: 0/1,000

✧ art of the bedchamber – dan heng il x gn!reader – dual cultivation pwp, part 1 here

Dan Heng dreads the thought of outliving you and will do anything to help you achieve immortality. If that means fucking you in his dragon form, then so be it.

– words sponsored: 0/2,000

– words written: 0/0

✧ paradise lost – sunday x gn!reader – tragedy, concept here

“Abashed the devil stood and felt how awful goodness is and saw Virtue in her shape how lovely: and pined his loss.” — John Milton, Paradise Lost

(Or: When the Aeon of Philosophy peers into Ena’s Dream, HE sees your greatest wish and understands what HE has lost.)

– words sponsored: 3,000/3,000

– words written: 0/3,000

🍉 – request a fic for gaza

(coming in august!)

‼️– please DO NOT send me any donation funds directly for this event. for the purposes of fundraising, I will only accept proof of donation (screenshots) to write any fics!

[rrei1]

❥# — 𝘐𝘯𝘧𝘰 fluff, softie!bakugo, cursing

☆ — 𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺 he shows you his soft side ☹️

❣︎ — 𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘦 I got this idea from listening to a song ☹️ I’m so lonely that i had to write this because I need comfort in my life. it’s bad. anyways enjoy!

the song in question

“ 𝗌𝗈𝖿𝗍𝗂𝖾 “ － 𝖪𝖠𝖳𝖲𝖴𝖪𝖨 𝖡𝖠𝖪𝖴𝖦𝖮 𝗈𝗇𝖾𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗍

weird as it is, katsuki had a habit of showing you his soft side. one being he can’t keep his hands off you. he’s clingy, real clingy. It was shocking of how much he would touch you, and on top of that he was protective too. overprotective you would say. whenever you guys were doing practice missions and one of the guys (kaminari or mineta) would look at you with heart eyes, he would always stand behind you glaring at them. by the aura that flamed around him, they would end up getting scared or nervously laughing looking away from you. sighing with your eyebrows frowning, you turn around to spot katsuki looking away with a scoff, “don’t look at me like that.” you raised a brow placing a hand on your hip not even willing to argue with him, only shaking your head with a smile walking up to him. “you need to stop.” pecking his cheek as he grinned with a shrug. “not my fault. those damn idiots keep staring at you.” l you shake your head watching him walk past you with a chuckle but gasp feeling him pull you by your waist as he did.

what else is weird that ever since he started to have that change in his attitude, he’s been showing affection with hou around everyone but it would be minor things. like holding your hand, whenever you guys are watching a movie or sitting on the couch he or you would put his arm over your shoulder, or whenever it’s just you two out in the dorms he would always back hug you enjoying the comfort he got from your warmth, giggling each time. “kat, what’s goin on?.” he would hum holding you tighter, “shut up loser..I just had a long day.” smiling everytime using your hand to ruffle his hair. he would do this so everyone knows who you’re with, thought he didn’t like the constant teasing mina and kirishima did he still does it so no one gets any smart ideas with you. you even knew he did it to remind everyone that you’re dating him, but in reality.. he only makes that excuse so he can hold you 🤫.

he also loves touching you. like really much. though it was not a common thing he would tell everyone, touching is his love language. you thought it was cute teasing him everytime but he thought it was stupid pushing you away each time, but couldn’t help but have that cute grin on his face. the relationship was cheesy— according to kaminari and mineta probably due to jealously that bakugo out of all people got to pull you, but in reality it was cute and everyone thinks you guys look adorable together. bakugo would always yell at them feeling flustered but you would always laugh saying thank you to everyone, “awww look at them!.” mina cooed as she saw you both on the couch, katsuki’s arm wrapped around you as you were cuddled to his side eating. “they look like a married couple.” kirishima added on with a smile but his smile dropped eyes going wide as he saw bakugo’s eyes on them glaring at em both. mina and kirishima looked away from them pretending they were doing something as you heard katsuki scoff. “what’s wrong?.” you asked taking another bite from your plate looking up at him who looked at you with a frown, “pinky and shitty hair fan girling again.” he rolled his eyes as you laughed shaking your head. “let em. there’s nothing wrong with that.” you muttered, leaning up to peck his lips hearing them “awww!!” again giggling pulling back. katsuki groaned glaring at you as you laughed, “you did that on purpose didn’t you?!.” you poked your tongue out shrugging, “I don’t know..did I?.” before you knew it, he pushed you off the couch with a smug grin feeling your glare on him. “I’ll kill you!.” — “If you can catch me nerd!”

“they’re so cute together.”

“couldn’t agree more.”

[obsessedduh]

genre: smutty with a plotty.

cw: implied fem reader and sub simon. reader is a bit mean dumification, sexism (reader mocks simon for being a man and being 'weak') masochism (simon), sadism (reader), simon is a crybaby. loads of f-bombs. bit of a long one and may be loads of spelling mistakes, but bare with me, y'all 😭🙏🏾

side note: i'm such a shit writer that it makes me want to cry. ughhh, like i've some people smuts, and i'm so jealous, like, i'm so shit at writing it burns 😭😭

MDNI – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

dorky!gamerboy!simon with a slutty, popular, mean roommate.

he finds her so annoying, walking around in your dorm with those stupidly tight booty shorts that show the bottom half of your ass and those annoyingly tight tank tops that you wear that has your nipples poking through the fabric of them.

it's so aggravating because you get him hard in the matter of seconds and then you make him stumble of his words or make him blush like a fucking idiot.

and ohhh, don't even get him started when you bring guys over. it's so fucking irritating trying to study or play video games with a boner and having to listen to you stupid pornagraphic moans, it's so fucking distracting!

and on top of that, when he finishes studying and thinks he can finally go to bed in peace. wrong. the familiar buzzing noise he hears through the thin walls, and your moans are enough to make him go insane. he thinks his poor cock is on its last leg because of how many times he's had to jerk off.

he bets you're doing it on purpose at this point! trying to get him all riled up. trying to drive him nuts! i mean, what other reason is there?

also, your attitude is so bad. he could be telling you to do something, and you're already telling him to piss off. then it leads to an argument and blah blah blah.

you're honestly so fucking bitchy and it gets on his nerves.

today was no different! he was playing video games as per usual until you bursted into his room. you obviously startled him but he doesn't pay attention to you. just taking off his headset and letting it rest around his neck and still continuing to play his game, "don't you know how to fucking knock!?"

"whatever. get off your stupid game, it's your turn to do the dishes."

he groans and shifts around in his chair, so it spins to look at you, "i did them yester-..." as soon as he manages to look at you straight away, his eyes widen. you're stading in his doorway wearing a red lacey bra and a matching lacey red thong.

what kind of woman does this!? standing in front of her guy roommate, half-naked!? his eyes trace all over your body, your figure, and he can't help the blood rushing down south. he gulps and shifts his hands to block the serious boner he was having right now.

"why the fuck are you staring at me like that?"

"n-nothing..."

"whatever, you gonna wash the dishes or what?"

"s-sure... j-just give me a m-moment."

"aight cool. just hurry the fuck up, dork."

you leave him be and close the door and as soon as he hears the door click. his hands are already pulling down his sweatpants and fisting his aching hard cock, moving his hand up and down at an uneven pace, so desperate to cum. your name falling out his lips and filthy images of you clouded his mind.

meanwhile you were getting annoyed because he was taking way to long. you opened the door, "why the fu-..."

your eyes shoot open. he clearly didn't hear the door open or your voice. you grin as you watch him toy with himself, moaning your name. gosh, you never knew a man's moans could be so... addicting. you could already feel heat building in your core.

you watch simon fist his cock a couple more times before his cum drenches his hand and the chair under him. you grin and decide this is the time to speak up, "you enjoy yourself?"

simon felt his heart drop and he turned to look at you. his soft cock now going hard again by the sight of you. he let out a fit of sorry's and of course the dumbest like any man could say, 'it isn't what it looks like'.

"cut the bullshit, simon. you were jerking off, moaning my name. the fuck is it meant to look like?"

he looked away in shame and embarrassment. "and you know what makes it worse?"

he looks up at you, noticing the digested expression on your face. "your cock is getting hard again. you fucking pervert."

"i-i'm s-sor-... a-ah!!"

his eyes widened when your hand wraps around his cock. he let's out a groan when you pull the uncut foreskin down to see his angry leaking tip. "fucking disgusting. you're getting off by this!?"

blood rushes to simon's face and he let's out a croaky moan when your thumb traces across his tip, collecting his pre-cum. you slip your thumb into your mouth, the salty flavour lingering on your tongue. he watched you carefully, his breathy unsteady and his cock twitched a bit. "you're such a fucking pervert. you enjoying this, letting your roommate, your bully, play with your cock like this?"

he avoids your gaze causing you to dig your pretty, manicured nails into thigh, "answer me simon."

he lets out a pained groan and nods, "y-yes.."

you move hand to wrap his cock again and you begin jerking off his cock, his previous orgasm presenting as lube to help you guide your hand up and down his length. you watch as his head rolls back onto the of his gaming chair and his face contort into pleasure. you kiss your lips against his tip and he tenses up.

you grin, and you slip the head of his cock into your mouth and swirl your tongue around it and watch as simon's eyes close from the pleasure. you tongue teases the slit of his cock, taking pleasure in the salty taste of his pre-cum.

he groans and starts blabbering about how he's gonna cum. he opens his eyes to see your pretty half lidded eyes looking up at him through your lashes. you slip your mouth off his tip and pump his cock a lot quicker, hoping for more of his creamy white. instead you were met with loud groans and tiny droplets of cum. you look up at him again to see how breathy he was and you immediately start bursting out laughing.

"fuck me! you're so out of breathe and you only gave me, what, two, three fucking drops of cum? how embarrassing."

your laughter was humiliating enough, but now a whole sentence about it? he felt the heat rush up to his face in embarrassment, but what was then embarrassment was now lust.

he whines and watches as your tongue swirl around his tip again. tears building up his eyes from the sensitivity, and you slowly start taking him deeper into your mouth, and that's when waterworks come out. he wasn't fully crying, just a couple of tears from the painful pleasure, that's all.

you hear sniffles and sobs and you look up to see simon crying and you never felt so turned on in your life. how fucking cute. you take your mouth off of his cock and you give him the most smug grin ever. "are you fucking serious?! you're crying? oh my fucking god."

a full-blown laugh erupts from your lips. not again. he watches you slowly call down and stop laughing, and he notices something different about your expression. sure, lust was still there, but there was a tint of sadism there now. fuck. are you getting turned on by this!?

he doesn't even get the chance to say or think about it before you're already deepthroating him. he let's out a loud groan, tears leaking out of his eyes now. he can't help it, it feels so painfully good and the pleasures to much. you nose was nuzzled against his pubes and bop your head up and down and you are delighted to hear his pornagraphic moans and groabs and again as he cums. you were delivered with the same tiny droplets of cum.

you take your mouth off of his cock again, "fuck. the same orgasm from before how pathetic."

he couldn't even pay attention, too, out of this world to say or do anything. he was taking deep breaths, trying to calm himself down but he let out a strained and choked moan to feel your wetness engulfing his cock. his eyes open and he looks down to see your pretty lacey red panties pushed to the side. he watches as your wet cunt slips his onto his cock with greed.

he groans at the feeling and he can't help the tears anymore. he doesn't care, he gives up, letting himself cry. his tears blur up his vision and he focuses on the feeling of your gorgeous warmth sucking his cock in until it was kissing your cervix. you slowly start bouncing on his cock and he's gone at this point.

eyes rolled to the back of his head and his head again resting against the head of his chair again. the chair creaks as you ride him. your moans being music to his ears. you place kisses all over his neck, smothering it in love bites and hickeys.

you feel his hands wrap around your waist, and you watch the state he's in. messy hair, eyes rolled to the back of his head, hickeys all over his neck. it's so fucking cute. "you're so fucking weak, what kind of man are you? a weak one at that. you're such a fucking crybaby."

you feel his cock twitch slightly at your words and you mouth shifts into a sadistic smirk, "you like that, getting called weak? a crybaby? a fucking man whore?"

you feel his cock twitch again, "f-fuck... you do... a-ah~... you do like that."

you feel your orgasm approaching and you pick up the speed. soon enough, you both have each other screaming each other's names. you squirting and simon finally delivering you that delicious creamy white you were so desperate for. you slowly slip off of his cock, your mixed orgasm now leaking onto the chair them the floor.

at this point, simon was so drained. his cock slowly going limp. his eyes start going droopy, tired from you two's sessions. his eyes closed and all his can remember is your soft lips against his then you saying,

"goodnight simon."

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･*

extra side note: may or may not have gotten carried away 😔. um, please tell me if this was good because i feel as if i waffled way to hard😰 and that it's shit. i know it's probably gonna get barely any like as most of my post now but whatever. at least i tried 😛😛 also took me 2-3 fucking hours to do and it may not look like it but oh well, yolo. 😽

wanna know more about me —> here

masterlist —> here

[mrinafria]

And I’d choose you; in a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality, I’d find you and I’d choose you. (CoS)

[contains spoilers; tw: blood]

When they ask me about the purest love story out there, I'd show them these two.

It's not the sacrifice per se that makes it great for me, it's the way they feel about each other, about the love they give and receive. Even in their last/worst moments, they somehow find the courage because the other one is safe? Im Sol is scared out of her mind handling this traumatic ordeal on her own so she seeks help from the detectives. Her only peace of mind is that at least Seon Jae is safe. Then she learns about his phone call and doesn't spare a second to run. The same girl who was so scared a while back throws all caution out of the window the moment Seon Jae is in danger, because she'd risk her life than Seon Jae's. Can you imagine the trauma seeing him dying for the third time, and her actually witnessing it this time around? If I were Im Sol, I would do anything to not have to go through that too. Even if it meant losing the person so they were never my person to begin with.

And Seon Jae. Boy is dying. Dying. You can see it in his eyes that he's aware of it too and yet, he is so grateful? So at peace with himself and with life? Like he has no regrets about any unfinished business, unlived years, unattained dreams, unspoken words to his loved ones. He already told Im Sol he loved her, and she reciprocated. That was enough. For him, that was good enough.

I go back to this scene like a masochist because THE DETAILS. By the time Im Sol arrives, you know Seon Jae is beyond saving. He knows it too. He's not even trying to escape or save himself. It looks like he's been holding on on his own for a while. His face has turned ashen, breathing uneven, hands slightly shaking. He's barely holding it together. Barely there.

However, he is not trying to push that guy away or take that knife out.

Instead, he's holding that guy's hand.

Let that sink in for a moment.

He is holding on to that hand. JUST SO HE CAN HOLD ON TO THE GUY.

Since the taxi driver is at an advantage here, and Seon Jae knows he cannot fight back anymore, so he is using whatever he can as a last resort to keep the guy occupied with him, and keep him from going after Im Sol. Seon Jae could perhaps guess Im Sol would arrive any time since the cliff was where he'd found her earlier, sitting in shock. But even if she didn't make it, you can bet he'd have spent his last breaths trying to fall off the cliff taking the guy down with him. THIS SCENE. The resolution is so clearly etched on his face.

And then he sees her. And the detectives. She is safe. She is saved. He did it. He saved her. And it's the Im Sol who knows him, who recognizes him, who loves him. She is safe, and that's all that matters. He saved the person he loves more than his life, literally.

His job is done. The choice he made gave him the outcome he wanted and desperately fought for.

And he is exhausted. All that resolve took a lot out of him. So we see his body finally giving up, him finally letting go. He resigns to his fate, but also not in a resentful way. He knew this was his fate all along (because no matter what choice Im Sol made, he'd choose to run toward her any day), it just happened earlier than expected. But he knew it, and he still made that choice. He doesn't regret it because he'd be making the same choice in every timeline (as he has been). He is able to see his Im Sol for one last time before his eyes close, with memories of their time together and Im Sol's voice echoing in his ears, his soul.

Sometimes you know the consequences, but make the same choice anyway. Because you like it.

The faint smile on his face in his final moments before he falls off the cliff? You'd think the boy won a gold medal for swimming or something. It's like he's achieved the biggest purpose there was in his life besides loving Im Sol. True to his words, he is grateful Im Sol exists in the world. That he got the chance to love her because she exists in this world. And he is thankful he gets to leave the world knowing Im Sol still exists in the world, his gift from the heavens.

One is jumping through space and time, living the same nightmare, constantly, over and over again, and yet going out of her way to save her love. Even if it means carrying the trauma and heartbreak and pain and loneliness and longing of three, four, multiple timelines, for the same guy. The other is making the choice to love her through all the storm, all the warnings, all the odds of time and space and fate stacked against him. How could you be so brave when fate is both so very kind and yet so extremely cruel to you no matter what you do? How do you choose to persevere? How do you get to have a love so pure?

Should I be ready to die if I want to be with you? - Ryu Seon Jae

[sirfrogsworth]

Destin has been bothering me for a while now. He tries to cast himself as this neutral, apolitical figure who is only concerned with the best ideas winning the day. He is an excellent science communicator and I really enjoy his videos. His recent eclipse videos were really well done.

It's clear he leaned right, but I could never really tell how far. And I think I just got my answer.

This article full of "disinformation" was a discussion of Ronald Reagan.

Destin was so miffed by the comments he left this in the thread.

And then he posted this follow up tweet.

Oh, he doesn't just *like* Ronald Reagan... he "I visited his shitty library on purpose" likes Ronald Reagan.

And I was curious what horribly misrepresentative things people might be saying about his idol and bastion of American leadership.

Oh no, look at this horrible disinformation accurate analysis.

This leaves out all of the systemic racism and differing sentences for crack and powder cocaine, but seems accurate to me.

Where is all of this disinformation, Destin? How has Reddit been "compromised"?

I still haven't seen the main reason I hate Reagan. Let's scroll a bit farther down.

There it is.

I'm not surprised by this Reagan worship, but I have to add it to the long list of things that bother me. It always feels worse when you really like the person and believe in their mission. Science communication is so important and Destin is one of the best modern science educators. I felt like he took up the space left by Bill Nye.

And there were some acts of progressivism that gave me a little hope. He once did a video with a trans scientist. He seemed unbothered by her and excited to collaborate.

But he also did a video with Ivanka Trump, justifying it because she was advocating for computer science in schools.

Anyway, Reagan sucked.

And that is not disinformation.

Just valid and justified criticism.

[wholoveseggs]

Hi there!! I been reading your works and I love your writing. This my first request ever.

I had this idea, and I was thinking about a gothic vampire reader with the personality and the looks of Morticia Addams, and the love for the macabre. And Elijah catches her attention and she catches his attention. Of course, they meet at a gala, a opera etc. And for weeks, they have been getting to know each other. Until one day, he comes over to her house, they are having a good time then the visit turns steamy and smutty, it is passionate and feral. And maybe with blood sharing between the two.

But of course, if you don’t want to then you don’t have to and you can ignore this.

Decadence

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

Elijah meets an intriguing woman at the opera, leading to an evening of music, wine and vampiric indulgences.

♡♡ Thanks for the request @thealienartist!! Absolutely obsessed with this idea, I LOVE gothic romance & horror!!! This was an absolute dream to write. Can Elijah please be the Gomez to my Morticia heart? ♡♡

5.9k words - Warnings: smut, oral sex, blood drinking, I was self-projecting hard with this one... {I just want to be her}, black cats, chocolate cake, vintage wine, a love letter, Victorian gothic everything... I listened to Totentanz on repeat while writing this... {its a vibe}

Elijah had always enjoyed the arts, whether that be in music or literature or even painting and live performances. He found that the arts were one of the only things that made him feel truly alive. Even with his undead heart beating within his chest.

Around the turn of the century, Elijah discovered his love for horror. It amused him to see how humans depicted the supernatural, their interpretations of his kind were rather off. Vampires living in run down castles, with no regard for the world around them, their main purpose to drain the blood of the innocent. It was almost laughable, though some of his kind did enjoy that lifestyle.

It was during this time that he fell in love with opera, something his siblings didn't exactly agree with. Rebekah found it to be dull, Klaus found it to be pretentious and Kol didn't care either way.

They just didn't get it, the music, the drama, the costumes, had him completely enraptured.

So, when he heard that La bohème was being performed, he immediately made plans to go. He had seen it many times, but never got tired of the performance. He just wished that he could have somebody to go with, but none of his family wanted to attend.

He put on his favorite four piece suit, combed his hair, grabbed his black trench coat and made his way to the opera house.

As the lights dimmed and the stage lit up, Elijah couldn't help but feel a little sad, wishing he had someone to share this interest with, but he was content watching alone.

He watched as the curtains parted and the actors began their first scene, he immediately fell into a trance as he took in the performance.

Intermission was announced and he went outside for some fresh air, he was surprised to see a woman, who looked like she was plucked straight out of the past, standing on the balcony.

She was smoking a cigarette, the long stick held elegantly in her fingers. Her nails were red talons and her dark hair cascaded down her back, stopping at her hips. She was dressed in a all black Victorian style dress, which complimented her pale skin, making it look almost ghostly.

She tilted her head at him in acknowledgement, then went back to staring out into the night.

Elijah usually wasn't the one to approach women, he preferred for them to make the first move. But something about this one intrigued him, he was curious about her.

He stepped onto the balcony and approached her slowly. Watching the wisps of smoke rise into the air.

She looked up at him and smiled.

"Elijah Mikaelson, I presume?" Her voice was deep, but still feminine, her eyes darker than his own. She was strikingly beautiful, there was no doubt about that.

"You know who I am?" Elijah raised his eyebrows.

She chuckled, gracefully flicking her cigarette butt away.

"Who doesn't? The infamous Mikaelson's, who rule the streets of New Orleans with blood and fear... I'm a big fan," she said.

He smiled and shook his head, "We do not rule the city, we simply protect it from our enemies."

She hummed, a smirk gracing her ruby red lips.

"You do have a reputation," she replied.

Elijah nodded and stepped forward.

"What is your name, darling?"

She chuckled and leaned against the railing, gazing up at him with a smirk. "Y/n," she said, extending her hand out to him.

He grasped her hand gently, his lips brushing against her knuckles, her eyes sparkled as she watched his lips.

"Hmm, they don't make them like you anymore," she mused, her eyes traveling up and down his body. "You are so very old-fashioned," she added with a sly smile.

"Well I am quite old," he jested, matching her smile.

They stood and stared at each other for a moment before Elijah broke the silence. "What do you think of this performance?" He asked, gesturing towards the theater.

She shrugged, "I've seen worse, I've seen better," she replied.

Elijah found himself smirking at her response, not really knowing why. Maybe because he had found himself feeling the same.

"May I ask what brings you here?" He wondered why she was attending an opera alone.

"I was bored, looking for someone to eat," she stated. Her eyes roaming over his body once more.

Elijah let out a chuckle and ran a hand through his hair. There was only a handful of times in his long life that a woman actually made him nervous, this being one of those times.

She reached forward and placed her hand on his chest, leaning closer towards him, her lips ghosting against his ear, her scent surrounded him, it was intoxicating and Elijah found himself leaning into her.

"I'll see you around Mr. Mikaelson," she whispered and gently pulled away from him, giving him a wink before going back inside. Elijah watched her go, letting out a sigh as he shook his head, not being able to wipe the smile off of his face.

You considered yourself a solitary creature. Even in your human life, you tended to keep people at a distance. You felt misunderstood, even a bit judged by your peers, you didn't really like being around people.

After you were turned, things hadn't really changed that much, you still found it difficult to connect with others, but now you were mostly untethered and unburdened by society's rules.

The freedom of being a vampire was nice, to be able to go and do whatever you pleased, whenever you pleased and live however you saw fit.

You spent most of your years traveling, seeking out new places, experiencing new cultures and meeting people along the way. And with all this knowledge you learned exactly who you are and what you like.

New Orleans was one of your favorite places, full of vibrancy and life. It was an aesthetic heaven for you, a place that celebrated death, promoted the macabre, had strong connections to magic. Not to mention their appreciation for the arts.

For the last few decades, you had taken up residence in an old Victorian home. You compelled the local historical society to allow you to paint the exterior completely black. Planted dark red roses along the windows and hung little chandeliers made of animal bones along the porch.

You had spent quite a bit of time decorating the interior, making it a space that you could feel truly comfortable in. Something that made your home feel like it truly reflected your personality.

The house fit you perfectly; outside looking like something from a B-horror film, but the interior was homely and feminine, decorated with macabre pieces, gothic furniture, tapestries adorned the walls and candles were scattered everywhere.

You never really acclimated to modern society, you were turned in the 1800s and preferred to live according to the time. You liked old things, dark antiques, things that held a certain kind of energy within them.

So when you met Elijah Mikaelson at the opera house, you knew you had to add him to your collection.

You had heard about the Mikaelson family for a long time, whispers of them among the vampires. You had become intrigued, they were the oldest of your kind, the knowledge they possessed fascinated you.

You couldn't help the smirk that had stretched across your lips when you finally came face to face with Elijah, he was exactly how you imagined him. Tall, dark and handsome, dressed to perfection, emanating wealth and power. Finding him at the opera added to your attraction, knowing that his interests matched your own made it all that more charming.

Elijah Mikaelson was the fine wine of men and you wanted to bathe yourself in it. Wanted to drink up every drop of it, savoring the taste of it on your lips.

You sat in your living room, your cat on your lap, purring contently as you ran your fingers through his fur. You were dressed in a large silk robe, your hair tied up in a bun, dark wine colored lipstick on your lips. A mug filled with blood sat on the table beside you.

You were writing out a letter to him, with ink and parchment, your favorite fountain pen adding a certain flourish to your lettering. Your cat jumped off of your lap and you grabbed an envelope to place the letter inside. You folded the parchment and stuck it in the envelope, sealing it with wax and writing Elijah's name onto the paper.

You hoped he would like the gesture, you knew he was an old fashioned man, so sending him a letter with a gift was bound to catch his attention. It had been a long, long time since you felt nervous, and it had been at least a hundred years since you had a crush like this.

You grabbed the parcel with his gift in it and walked over to your front door, slipping on your heels, you headed out of the house and down your side walk, plucking a rose along the way.

The postman was close to leaving, just as you approached his mail van.

"Hello," you greeted, and watched as he turned and jumped, clearly startled by your sudden appearance.

"Jesus lady, I didn't hear you coming," he stammered, looking you up and down, a nervous smile on his face.

"I'm sorry, I just wanted to catch you before you left."

He shook his head and smiled, waving away your concern.

"I have a parcel for you to deliver," you said.

He nodded and held out his hand for the letter.

"What's the address?" He asked, staring down at the envelope, taking note of your fine penmanship.

"The Abattoir, in the French Quarter. For Elijah Mikaelson," you told him, running your fingertips along the thorns of your rose.

The postman nodded his head and placed the letter in his van.

"Have a nice day," he said as he walked away.

You watched him climb into his vehicle and drive away, a smirk playing on your lips, hoping your letter would get the attention you desired.

Elijah was spending the day lazing about, enjoying a rare day of peace and quiet, catching up on his reading. He wasn't expecting any visitors, but a knock sounded at the front door, which was a highly unusual occurrence.

He wandered downstairs, a nervous looking postman was waiting at the gate, looking around the old compound with fascination and hesitation.

"Elijah Mikaelson?" He asked timidly.

"Yes?" Elijah looked at him in bewilderment, it had been a long time since he had received anything in the mail, it wasn't like he had a registered address.

"This is for you," he said, handing him the envelope and a small package, wrapped in crimson coloured paper and tied with a black ribbon.

Elijah thanked him and made his way back into his home, he wondered who could have sent him a letter, the handwriting was immaculate, a skill that wasn't common in today's world.

He realized who it was from instantly when he saw the initials, y/n. A smile graced his lips, feeling like a giddy schoolboy instead of a thousand year old vampire.

He quickly undid the black ribbon and opened the paper, revealing a beautiful piece of art, depicting a flying demon eating a young woman's heart. The detail was incredibly fine, and he realized after a quick sniff, that the red of the painting was not paint. It was blood.

A thought crossed his mind, he wondered if it was a piece of your art, he found your work to be truly frightening, beautiful and enchanting, reminding him of the piece Nighthawks, though darker and macabre.

Opening the letter, he read it carefully,

Dearest Mr. Mikaelson, I hope this letter finds you well, if not please pardon my forwardness. I never understood the flirting etiquette of the modern woman. I find myself longing for the company of a man with your refined tastes, such a delicate palette. I was intrigued from the moment we met, our meeting felt fortuitous. I must confess that I have not felt this way in centuries, being in your presence awakened something within me that I wasn't aware still existed. I find myself completely enamored. Perhaps my feelings are returned? If not, then please accept this gift in hopes of extending our friendship. Though I do wish you share in my hopes of something a little more. I will be home tonight, perhaps you would do me the honor of joining me for a drink? Until then I remain Your Admirer, y/n.

Elijah couldn't wipe the smile off his face as he gently folded the parchment and placed it on his desk. He immediately went to check himself in the mirror, fixing his hair, combing it neatly to the side. He found himself anxiously changing his tie, nothing matched what he was wearing, but he wanted everything to be perfect.

He found a pair of ruby cufflinks, feeling that they complimented the letter and would perhaps set the mood.

Grabbing his black wool jacket and adjusting his tie, he made his way outside before stopping and running back inside, he couldn't possibly come empty handed and he knew just the thing to bring you.

You waited nervously inside your house, you had decided to wear a simple black slip dress, your hair flowing over your shoulders in waves, your black winged eyeliner perfectly defining your eyes.

You needed a way to quell your anxiety, so you decided to play a tune on your organ, something to fill the silence, create a soundtrack to go along with the nerves that bounced around inside your mind and heart.

If he didn't show, you would understand. It had been quite a while since you've expressed your affections to anyone. It had been a lifetime since you were courted.

Your fingers idly drifted over the ivory keys, producing a somber yet melodic tune. Your nails were filed into sharp talons, painted a deep crimson, matching the lipstick on your lips.

The melody flowed through the house, the tune reverberating against the walls, seeping through the floorboards. Your cat jumped up and settled in your lap, the soft vibrations from the organ lulling him into a purring trance.

A soft knock broke the melody and you felt your heart stutter. Placing your cat on the seat you walked over to your door. Taking a steadying breath, you grabbed the handle and opened the door.

Men usually didn't have you so utterly flustered, but with Elijah, it seemed like even your centuries old blood could grow warm.

"Good evening, I received your letter and gift, thank you."

He greeted you with a genuine smile, an excited glint in his eyes. You let your eyes wander over him, taking in his appearance, he was dressed to perfection, like always, obviously following along with your old fashioned aesthetic. You liked that you didn't have to ask him, he just got it.

"Please, come in," you stepped to the side to make room for him, you shut the door as he walked inside.

"Quite a lovely home you have here," he said, admiring the interior of the house.

You took his coat and led him into the sitting room, pointing to one of the antique sofas.

"Please, take a seat."

He sat and placed the bottle of wine he had brought on the table.

You took the bottle and marveled at the label, your interest peaked, feeling slightly taken back, it was one of the rarest reds, bottles of this were difficult to come by, most of them now lying at the bottom of the sea.

You knew it was not a simple gesture, this was the kind of thing you save for very special occasions. Knowing that he considered this date that special made your stomach flutter.

"Now how did you manage to get your hands on this?" You asked, placing the bottle beside the two glasses you had set out earlier.

"My brother was the culprit behind a number of shipwrecks, during the golden era of piracy," Elijah responded, a smirk gracing his lips.

You chuckled as you grabbed the corkscrew. "That is no surprise," you replied as you popped the cork out.

You grabbed the glasses and walked over to him, passing him one of the glasses before sitting across from him.

You both raised your glasses and clinked them together, taking a drink, closing your eyes and savoring the taste.

"I heard you playing as I approached the house, you have a lovely talent," Elijah said.

You smiled and nodded your head, looking down at your wine.

"That was very sweet of you to say," you looked up at him through your lashes, admiring his handsome features.

You took another sip and watched him over the rim of your glass, his eyes watching you as well.

"What were you playing? Totentanz?" He asked.

"Indeed, it’s one of my favorites," you said, tilting your glass in his direction, "and it felt appropriate," you jested.

A beautiful smile stretched across Elijah's face as he let out a chuckle. His smile made your lips curl up, mirroring his expression.

"So tell me," he began, "What made you decide to come to New Orleans?"

You shrugged and crossed your legs, the sliver of skin left exposed as the fabric cascaded over your thighs, capturing his attention.

"I love it here, the culture, the art, blood tastes sweeter here," you said, letting a sly smile grace your face. "I like the way this city weaves death and beauty," you paused and took a sip, "it just feels like home to me."

Elijah nodded his head in understanding, he appreciated what you had said. "Yes, there is a certain allure about this city,"

"Your family helped build it back in the 1800s, no?" You asked, running your finger along the lip of your glass.

He nodded, "yes we did, from swamps and brothels to one of the wealthiest cities."

You chuckled and shook your head, "yet the swamps and brothels remain," you mused.

"But not nearly as much," he joked.

You both sat and talked for hours, getting to know each other, laughing and drinking. Elijah was surprised to find that you didn't mind listening to him talk about his travels and life, in fact you hung onto his every word. To him, you were utterly enchanting, the way your eyes lit up as you talked, your laugh, the way you looked at him.

At one point he got up and sat closer to you, his hand gently grazing your thigh, leaning in close as you spoke, his eyes locked on yours. Your lips parted and you felt his breath ghosting across your mouth, his eyes flicking down to your lips. He was such a gentleman, waiting for you to initiate the kiss, but you wanted to do one last thing before you tasted his lips.

"I made something for us, if you would like to try it," you whispered.

He leaned back and tilted his head, his eyes curious.

You smirked and placed your wine glass down, slowly standing up.

"Follow me," you told him.

Elijah trailed after you into your dining room, a large wooden table in the center of the room, filled with silver platters and a centerpiece of black and white roses.

You had made a decadent chocolate cake using human blood, the dark rich blood mixing with the cocoa, making a sinfully dark and delicious dessert.

You pulled out a chair for him and motioned for him to sit.

"This looks delicious, did you make this?" Elijah asked.

You nodded and cut a slice for him, placing it on a plate.

"Yes, I made it from scratch," you said, a small smirk playing on your lips. "Gathered all the ingredients from local suppliers."

Elijah hummed, taking his first bite, his eyes widened and he let out a soft groan.

"This is divine," he exclaimed, the veins around his eyes darkening.

You sat and watched him eat the entire slice, his eyes were blown out, the bloodlust apparent in his expression. You bit your lip, trying to hold in your excitement.

You pushed your plate towards him, a wicked grin on your lips. "Would you like another slice?"

His eyes flicked up to meet yours, the bloodlust making him look feral, his eyes completely black.

"I would prefer to taste something else," he said.

Your lips curled into a smile as he stood, pushing his chair back and pulling you out of yours.

His arms snaked around your waist, his hand coming up to tangle in your hair, pulling you flush against him. You ran your hand up his chest and wrapped it around his neck, your lips meeting his.

He tasted like red wine, chocolate and just a hint of blood, his mouth soft and pliant, his tongue brushing against your lips. You nipped at his bottom lip and he growled, pushing his hips against yours, walking you backwards, pinning you against the wall.

"Where did you come from?" He marveled, his hands grabbing your ass.

You laughed and ran your hand through his hair, giving it a light tug.

"Does it matter?" You whispered, pressing your lips against his again, kissing him hungrily.

"You've been in my city for so long, yet I only just met you, how very unfortunate," his voice was gruff as he spoke, his hips rolling against yours.

"I guess we will have to make up for lost time," you said, your voice dripping with lust.

Elijah picked you up and flashed up the stairs, his hands cupping your ass, his lips attached to your neck. He walked you into the bedroom, tossing you on the bed.

You laid there, propped up on your elbows, staring up at him, a teasing smirk on your lips, your dark hair fanning out on the pillow.

He looked at you in awe, your red lips were swollen from his kiss and the hem of your slip had risen up your thighs. He climbed onto the bed and crawled towards you, hovering over your body, his mouth finding yours again, his hands running up to the hem of your stockings, his fingers teasing the skin under the material.

You wrapped your legs around his waist and flipped him, straddling his hips. Your hands ran over his chest, undoing the buttons of his shirt, revealing his toned chest.

His hands roamed over your body, slipping the straps of your slip off your shoulders, revealing your black corset, his hands trailing over the boning, the lace covering your breasts, the garters that held up your stockings, and the panties that were already ruined.

"I miss when women would dress this way," he sighed, his eyes drinking in the sight of you, a look of hunger in his eyes.

You chuckled, bending down to nip at his bottom lip, your lips moving along his jaw.

"Happy to keep the tradition alive," you whispered, nuzzling your nose against his neck, your fangs running along the artery, feeling his pulse against the tip of your fangs.

Elijah flipped you over and pressed his body against yours, his hand wrapping around your throat, squeezing the sides, his thumb tilting your head back. His other hand found the ties inn the front of your corset, slowly undoing the knots, the ribbon sliding through the eyelets, the corset loosening with each pull.

You watched his eyes flicker over your breasts, his fangs extending, his breathing heavy. He looked up and met your gaze, his face shifting, his veins spreading underneath his eyes.

He bent down, his fangs sinking into your chest, your blood filling his mouth, dripping down his chin. Your eyes rolled back as he fed from you, his hand squeezing your breast, his fingers pinching and twisting your nipple.

The pain of his fangs and the pleasure of his hands were overwhelming, you felt drunk, you felt euphoric.

You grabbed a fistful of his hair and pulled his head back, your mouth colliding with his, tasting yourself on his lips. He groaned into your mouth and rolled his hips against yours, his bulge pressing against your core.

You both frantically began to undress, his pants and belt tossed aside, your dress and corset ripped off, thrown onto the floor. You laid back, wearing nothing but your stockings and panties, his boxer briefs the only piece of clothing left on his body.

He grabbed your hips and pulled you back underneath him, his lips finding yours, his hand running up your leg, hooking his finger into the thin strap of your panties, tearing them off.

"That was entirely ungentlemanly," you said, a teasing glint in your eye.

Elijah smirked, kissing his way down your stomach, stopping at your pelvis, his fangs lightly scraping the skin above your pussy.

"You don't seem to mind," he mused, his hand pushing your thighs open, his lips wrapping around your clit, his tongue flicking over the sensitive bundle of nerves.

Your hips bucked and your hand grabbed a fistful of his hair, tugging it, urging him on. You appreciated his enthusiasm as he indulged in pleasuring you.

His tongue felt deliciously warm against your skin, your eyes shut, your breath ragged. It had been so long since you had a man between your legs, and Elijah was no ordinary lover, his skill level matched his age.

You moaned and writhed beneath him, his thumb pressed against your clit, your wetness covering his chin.

"Fucking hell," you panted, your body starting to tense.

Your hands gripped the bedsheets, your body a ball of pent up tension, with one final stroke of his tongue, your orgasm broke through the last sliver of control.

You shook and gasped as your climax took over, your whole body erupting in pleasure. Elijah lifted his head, watching you, his lips curling into a sly smile.

"That's a sight," he praised, sitting up and wiping his chin with the back of his hand.

You slowly opened your eyes, a blissful smile plastered on your face.

"Indeed it is," you replied, your breathing uneven.

"But you should watch your language, I thought you were a lady," he teased, his eyebrow raised, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards.

You narrowed your eyes and smirked, leaning forward, grabbing his shoulders and rolling him onto his back. Your bodies were slotted together, your faces close to each other.

"When have I ever claimed to be a lady?" You asked, kissing along his jawline, nipping the soft skin at the end of his neck.

Your hands trailed down his body, running over his chest, letting your nails run down his torso, breaking the skin, long bloody tracks appearing.

You kissed your way down his chest, licking the blood up, your fangs scraping against his abdomen. You looked up and caught his hungry gaze, his body tensing under you, his erection straining against the fabric of his boxers.

Smirking, you kissed the fabric that separated you from his cock, your hands reaching up and tugging at the waistband, pulling them down slowly.

Your lips wrapped around the tip of his cock, licking the pre-cum. His eyes fluttered shut and he hissed in pleasure, his hands tangling in your hair.

"Mr. Mikaelson," you said as you slowly descended on his cock. "I may look like a lady," you popped off him and kissed the head. "but I fuck like a dirty, filthy whore."

Elijah groaned at your words, the hands in your hair tightening, gripping your strands, guiding you back down, taking in more of him.

You bobbed your head along his shaft, sucking and lapping at the vein along the underside, one of your hands pumping the part you couldn't fit in your mouth, the other gently cupping his balls, squeezing and massaging them.

Elijah slowly began to rock his hips, matching your rhythm, his breathing heavy and rapid, his voice hoarse as he murmured your name.

Pulling his cock out of your mouth, you looked up at him, tilting your head, "yes?" You smirked, blowing air onto the tip.

Elijah pulled you up and kissed you, flipping you over and once again pinning you underneath him. He pulled your thigh up to hook around his waist, gripping your ass, letting his cock rub along your slit. He pulled on the hem of your stocking, letting it snap back against your skin.

"Gorgeous, intoxicating thing," he cooed, slowly sinking into you.

You threw your head back and let out a moan, your leg hiked up to allow him deeper access. He placed one hand under your thigh, holding your leg in place, while the other found your neck, his thumb grazing your windpipe, applying the perfect amount of pressure. The hand under your leg holding you firmly. You knew that a part of him wanted to give into the bloodlust, the animalistic side of him that was desperate to sink his fangs into your neck. His gentleness mixed with his aggressiveness drove you wild.

You felt every inch of his cock as he slowly rolled his hips, pulling out of you almost fully before entering you again. He leaned down and kissed you deeply, his tongue dancing along yours. It was intense and overwhelming, the way he had all your senses tied up in his touch, his mouth, his taste, the sound of his breathing, his movements.

You struggled to hold it together, your pleasure building with each stroke, and he knew, he loved seeing you come undone.

He began to pick up his pace, his hips snapping against yours. It was like the perfect dance, his hips moving so smoothly and perfectly in time with yours, both of you chasing the inevitable crash.

Your eyes met, and everything else seemed to fall away as you lost yourself in his gaze, everything slowing down. He kissed you softly, tenderly, making you melt in his hands.

You brought one hand down to rest on his cheek, holding his face against yours, kissing him back just as tenderly. You ran your index finger along his jaw line, your sharp nail drawing blood, dipping your finger between your lips. He tasted so much better than you imagined, like pure power and divine lust.

Elijah groaned at the sight of your blood stained lips and he sped up, his lips on your neck, his fangs running over your skin.

You tugged on his hair, urging him to bite you, to drink his fill, you wanted nothing more than to give yourself over completely.

His fangs sank into your neck, your blood spilling into his mouth, some of it dripping onto your chest, his teeth slicing into your skin.

The sensation pushed you over the edge, your orgasm ripping through you, your hands grabbing at his shoulders, a strangled cry of his name leaving your lips.

He didn't stop, just as he was reaching his peak, he sank his teeth in deeper. He growled, his hips losing their rhythm as his climax hit him. You were both a gasping, moaning mess, clinging to one another, your fingers digging into each other's skin.

The two of you collapsed in a sweaty heap, tangled in the sheets, your skin glistening, breathing heavy.

You felt light headed and euphoric. His gaze was piercing and loving, his fingers brushing across your neck, softly wiping the blood off. His mouth gently caressed yours, his hands cupping your face.

He brushed your hair behind your ears, pulling you into his embrace, his fingers tracing your skin. It was hard to believe that you had only known him for a night, it felt like a lifetime.

A long overdue release of tension and you were happy to be the object of his affections. He was by far the most interesting man you had ever met.

You melted into him, his hands wrapping around you, holding you close. Everything felt perfect, the dim lights, the sound of rain in the background, the weight of him beside you.

The slow creak of your bedroom door opening, cut through the stillness of the night. The soft mew of your cat greeted the both of you, followed by the sound of him jumping onto your bed. The comforting feeling of his paws walking along the sheets as he came to investigate the disturbance in his home.

He walked along Elijah's body, bumping his head against Elijah's outstretched hand, purring happily.

"And who might you be?" Elijah asked.

"Erebus," you responded, stroking Erebus' fur. "It means darkness."

Elijah nodded, the corner of his mouth turning up in a smirk.

"An appropriate name," he mused, watching the black cat turn around on his chest, finding a comfortable spot to settle.

Erebus yawned and curled into a ball, closing his eyes.

You smiled and snuggled in closer to Elijah, your head resting on his shoulder.

"I guess Erebus wants me to stay," He chuckled.

You laughed and reached over him, scratching the cat behind the ears.

"It does seem that way," you teased. "And I have no intention of kicking you out."

Elijah smiled, kissing the top of your head.

"Good," he said. "Because I intend on staying right here."

You looked up at him and smiled, your heart skipping a beat. You had never met anyone who could make you feel so special and desirable.

Elijah's face was gentle, his eyes crinkled, his mouth curled into a smile. He kissed you again, a sweet, chaste kiss, and then he turned his attention back to Erebus, who was now fast asleep on his chest.

"Did you know that Erebus fathered Eros, the god of love and desire?" He asked.

"I did," you chucked, watching your little cats chest rise and fall.

"There is a play house not far from here, they are putting on a performance about it, the play is called Sweet Eros. Would you like to go see it? It's quite twisted, it seems like something you would enjoy."

You nodded and kissed him, a grin on your face.

"Mr. Mikaelson, I think this is the start of something beautiful," you teased, your fingers tracing his collarbone.

"Oh my darling," he said, his lips brushing against yours. "It already is."

♡♡ Tag-List ♡♡

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♡ @meeom ♡ @damienmorton ♡ @wickedmuse ♡ @sunkissedebony97 ♡ @idk00sblog ♡ @savannaounana♡ @cs-please ♡ complicatedandconfusing-25 ♡ @hamiltimes ♡ @akala6670229 ♡ @yeaiamme2 ♡ @itsjulzandmydiamonds ♡ @spideysbabe ♡ @witch-of-letters ♡ @elijahmikaelsonsboy ♡ @rosecentury ♡ @sekaishell ♡ @ziayamikaelson ♡ @amanda08319 ♡ @starshipcookie

[mynameismckenziemae]

All of Me

Part 6

(previous part here, next part here)

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x You

Summary: A fun day at the beach and even more once you get home.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI! Smut, teasing, orgasm delay/denial, getting aroused in public, femdom kind of?, mutual masturbation, use of ‘good boy’, use of ‘yes ma’am’, idk probably more. Lmk if I missed anything

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>

“Do you guys know each other?” Bradley asks, nodding to Jake as the teams finish divvying up.

“Kind of. We’ve met in passing on base,” you lie.

“He’s single, good looking-What? I have eyes,” Bradley scoffs when you give him a look. “He met Drew at a boys' night and was really good with him. He’s a little young for you, Grandma, but that’s never stopped you before.”

“Oh, whatever,” you laugh, but consider his words. One of the biggest reasons you were hesitant to date was Drew and he’s already fond of Jake.

You don’t dwell on it as the game begins.

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>

The Southern California sun is hot and your coverup is stripped off 15 minutes into the game.

Even though his gaze is hidden by his aviators, you can feel Jake’s eyes raking over your exposed skin and the same modest top you had on earlier. He turns his head away when fix your strap with a snap.

“I’ve got Roo!” Drew calls before the final play. “Jake, cover my mom. She’s pretty good for a girl.”

He giggles when you narrow your eyes at him.

Bradley gives you a nod before you take off running when he yells hike.

Jake’s hot on your heels until you take a sharp left as Bradley throws the ball.

“Shit,” is all you from behind you as catch it and take off.

You turn around right before the end zone to face him. “That’s a tie,” you grin as you step back over the line.

Jake just gives you a smile as he bends at the waist to catch his breath.

“I told you she’s good,” Drew pants as catches up and slaps Jake on the back. “No worries.”

“Thanks, bud,” Jake laughs as he straightens and looks at you when he says, “Yeah, she is good.”

“Roo said to let you know the food is ready and that I should hurry back or he’ll drink the only grape soda!” Drew says hurriedly, already running back towards Penny’s where the rest of the group is already inside.

Bradley doesn’t even like grape soda. The wannabe matchmaker did this on purpose.

“I think I’m gonna take a dip in the water first,” Jake says with a sigh .

“But it’s freezing,” you say, turning to look at him. His eyes are on your ass where your shorts have ridden up from your run.

“Exactly,” he replies with a grimace looking down at his obvious erection. “I feel like a teenager again. I was okay until you took your shirt off and started running around.”

“I’m sorry,” you say, not sorry at all.

“No you’re not,” he laughs.

“No, I’m not,” you bite your lip as you look him over, wanting nothing more to jump his bones.

“Fuck, you’re just making it worse,” he groans, looking over your shoulder at the house before giving you a quick kiss. “I’ll meet you inside.”

You make your way back, laughing when you hear him curse at the frigid water.

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>

Another round of football, swimming, and s’mores by the fire has the time passing quickly.

“Can I go watch a movie with Elsie?” Drew asks, stifling a yawn after finishing his second s’more.

“Sure, as long as Pen says it’s okay,” you tell him, brushing his hair off his forehead.

He looks so much like Andy that it hurts.

“She did, I asked her first,” he says, eyes searching for someone. “Jake, do you wanna come with me? Bob’s in there too.”

“Oh bud, he-“ you start but Jake’s already standing.

“Sure,” he gives you a wink as follows Drew inside.

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>

You plan to check on Jake but get distracted talking to Nat and Callie.

“She’s not the only one who fell asleep,” Bob smiles at you when he brings a sleeping Elsie outside 45 minutes later.

“That doesn’t surprise me with all the fresh air he got today,” you reply, stifling a yawn of your own. “Have a good night.”

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>

“I’m gonna head out, guess Drew’s already asleep,” you find Bradley before heading in the house.

“Me too. I put his bag in your car already,” he replies, hugging you.

“Thanks again Roo,” you say, squeezing him before pulling back. “For everything.”

“Any time,” he gives you a smile as he heads to the Bronco.

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>

You head inside quietly after saying goodbye to everyone else.

The sight you walk in on has you stopping in your tracks.

They’re both asleep; Drew against Jake’s shoulder and Jake’s head resting on his.

You quietly pull your phone from your pocket and capture the moment but the shutter sound of your camera has Jake’s eyes blinking open.

You can feel a crack forming in the solid fortress constructed around your heart when he smiles down at Drew’s sweet, sleeping face.

You are fucked.

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>

Drew doesn’t rouse as Jake carries him to your car nor when he gets him buckled in.

“Thanks,” you murmur as he closes the door softly. “He’s getting too big for me to carry.”

“No problem,” his eyes flick to your lips like he wants to kiss you, but he hesitates, looking to the backseat.

“Let me walk you to your truck,” you giggle, taking his hand; he’s parked next to you.

You pull him around the tailgate and press him up against the rear driver’s doors; glancing to make sure you and Jake’s hidden from Drew’s line of sight. Then you kiss him.

A low rumble leaves his throat at the touch of your lips. It gets hot and heavy fast; he can’t think to do more than anchor himself to your hips in a tight grip as one of your hands pushes into his hair, the other sliding down his chest to palm him over the thin fabric of his swim trunks.

You swallow his needy groans as you move your hand slowly up and down, going faster the more desperate he sounds.

“Reese,” he gasps, pulling from your lips. “Slow-ah, I’m getting close.”

“Not until I say so,” you remind him, your hand keeping the unrelenting pace.

A strangled noise leaves him and his fingers grip your hips even tighter as his head falls back against his truck window at your words.

“I-I’m not gonna be able to stop if you keep going like that,” he rasps.

You keep going, reveling at the tortured look on his face before leaning in to whisper, “You can cu-“

“Mom?” The sound of Drew opening his door has you jumping apart. “Where are you?”

“I’m coming,” you reply, trying to keep your voice steady. “Just saying goodnight to Jake.”

“Okay,” you can hear him yawn. “Night Jake.”

“Night bud.”

You let out the breath you’re holding when the door clicks shut.

“Goodnight Jake,” you whisper, pressing a quick kiss to his lips before stepping away. “Text me when you get home.”

“I will,” he nods, giving you a smile through the pain.

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>

Getting a sleepy Drew into the house is a process, but after a few tears and a trip to the bathroom, he’s down for the night.

Jake’s texted you by the time you crawl into bed.

Jake: I made it home.

Reese: Us too.

Jake: Drew fall back asleep?

Reese: Yeah. I made him go to the bathroom and brush his teeth. He wasn’t too happy with me 😂 I’m not sure if he was even fully awake.

Jake: God, he’s cute. Fell asleep halfway through telling me about last night's boys' night.

Reese: What’d they get up to?

Jake: …you know I can’t tell you that. I already betrayed their trust by telling you about the Padres game.

Reese: 🙄

Reese: I was gonna FaceTime you while I masturbate but now I don’t know.

Jake: Fuck.

Jake: Fuckkkkkkk.

Jake: Still can’t do it. Sorry.

You laugh as you open your bedside drawer to find your vibrator before pressing the FaceTime button.

“Hey,” his flushed face greets you almost immediately.

“Hi,” you smile. “How are you doing?”

“I’m miserable,” he admits and his breath hitches when your hand holding the toy comes into view. “I’ve been hard since you left.”

“Poor thing,” you coo as you set your phone up on the nightstand so he can see more of you. “I guess you can touch yourself while you watch. But I want to see you.”

He releases the breath he was holding as he scrambles to set up his phone too.

As he does that, you slip the oversized t-shirt you’re wearing off, leaving you naked.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs as he pushes down the sheet, fisting himself with a grunt. His cock is an angry red and already dripping precum.

“So are you.” You turn on the vibrator and trail it over your nipples, gasping at the echoing sensation it causes between your legs. “Go slow,” you warn him softly. “I haven’t decided if you can cum yet.”

His eyes fall close as his body shudders but he obeys and slows his strokes.

As much as you want to drag this out, your arousal is already coating your thighs as you bring the toy down your body and you press it straight to your clit with a gasp.

“Fuck,” he rasps as he watches with rapt attention.

“Fuck,” you agree as you turn up the speed, already feeling the tells of an orgasm approaching. “I’m already close. You’ve had me worked up all day.”

“Really?” He asks, surprised. “Never would’ve guessed. You’re so composed.”

“I’m g-good at hiding it,” you explain, eyes falling close and gasping as welcome your first orgasm.

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>

Jake’s eyes are shut tight when you’re able to open yours. He’s breathing heavily and has a tight grip on the base of his cock as he fights his own release.

“Good boy,” you whisper, smiling at the way he jerks. “Watch me again and I’ll you cum with me after this one.”

He groans as if he’s in pain but his eyes flicker open.

Just a hair-trigger away from spilling, he doesn’t release the tight grip on himself; a punched out sound leaves him as he watches you gasp and writhe through another.

“Okay, okay,” you pant as you come down. “I want you to cum with me this time.”

“Yes ma’am,” he breathes, hesitantly releasing himself with an already fucked-out expression.

“Oh, I like that,” you moan, clenching at his words as you tease the vibe over your swollen clit again.

“I’ll remember that,” he says breathlessly. “God, you’re perfect.”

You just smile.

“Reese, baby, I-I’m close,” he rasps, fully fucking his fist now. “I’m gonna-“

“Cum for me,” you rush out as you toe the edge. “Now.”

“Fuck! Reese,” he groans, hips jerking as rope after rope of cum coats his fist.

You’re unable to suppress the cry that leaves you when fall over the edge too.

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>

“Wow,” Jake chuckles.

“Yeah,” you smile as you lift your pleasure-heavy lids. “Wow.”

You prop your head on your fist, sleepy as you watch him wipe his hand and chest with tissues, wishing you were there to instead lick it up.

You talk for a few minutes and make a plan to have lunch in your office come Monday-to help his iatrophobia.

That’s what you tell yourself at least.

“Night Reese,” he murmurs, smiling at your slow blinks. “Sweet dreams.”

“Night,” you say whisper as sleep pulls you under.

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>

A/N: 🥹 me while writing Drew and Jake snuggling. Reese can deny it all she wants but she’s falling for him. Also, Jake reacting to be called a good boy? 🥵

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[dazzlingjaeyun]

𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐩𝐞 - 𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐦𝐮𝐫𝐚 𝐫𝐢𝐤𝐢

best friend!riki x fem!reader

genre: fluff & comfort

warnings: angst, crying, (sort of undressing but i swear it's pure!!), mentions of (not) eating

word count: 1.1k

↝ dazzlingjaeyun's bookshelf

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

ring ring ring.

your phone's ringtone startled you. you sat up in your bed, wiping away your tears and grabbed your phone to look at the screen.

you sighed and tossed your phone back on your bed, before slowly standing up and heading to the bathroom to wash your red, tear-stained face.

back in your room, you decided to call back, not wanting to worry your friend.

the call connected as quickly as never before, revealing the right half of the black haired boy's face.

the complaints he was ready to throw at you for not answering any of his texts for several hours got stock in his throat the moment he saw your face - your eyes still red and puffy, despite your attempt to wash it all away.

"what happened?", he asked instead. although the tone of his voice was soft and filled with worry, he couldn't hide a hint of anger peeking through.

instead of replying, you just averted his face on your screen for a second. but you didn't need to say anything. riki knew you well enough to understand you without words, especially after the countless times he had already found you in that exact state.

"did you argue again?"

you just nodded.

riki really didn't want the anger to get the best of him, but he couldn't help clenching his jaw seeing you in that condition. again. he was angry that after everything that you had already went through, you still ended up forgiving your boyfriend every time. he was more angry at him, though. how could someone treat your beautiful soul like that?

you swore you could hear him mutter something under his breath, but seeing the annoyance on his face, you kept your curiosity to yourself.

"do you want to talk about it?"

still not speaking, you shook your head, instantly regretting the action as you felt your head pounding and spinning.

"alright... do you want me to come over?", he asked, still trying to hide his anger from you.

you sniffled and for the first time that night gave him the gift of two words; "yes, please"

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡

less than 10 minutes later, you heard a dull knock on your window. riki had purposely chosen the window instead of the front door, certainly not wanting to be confronted by your parents as to why he paid you a visit at this hour.

you were quick to open it to let him climb through the window and inside your room. without a word, he pulled you in for a hug, resting his chin on your head, your face buried in his chest. the embrace let tears pool in your eyes again as the feelings you tried so hard to surpress hit you another time.

riki let one of his hands wander from your waist to the back of your head, pulling you a little closer into his warm chest and carefully stroking your hair.

no longer able to control the tears, you just bursted out, clinging onto the fabric of his zip hoodie tightly, almost desperate. riki was sure that you were close enough to him to hear his heart shattering to pieces at the sound of your sobs.

after some minutes, you caught your breath and slowly let go of your best friend, looking down to the floor. even though he had seen you in this condition before, you felt embarrassed this time, never having cried so bad in front of him until then.

riki placed his hands on each cheek of yours, slowly bringing your face to look up at him and wiping away the tears under your eyes with his thumbs.

"have you eaten dinner?", he asked, half out of worry, half out of the want to change the topic. he never forced you to talk about anything that troubled you, he never dug too deep with questions - but at the same time, always listened whenever you were ready to speak.

you slowly shook your head and riki forced himself to smile softly, very obviously not liking the idea of his best friend skipping meals.

"let's go to the convenience store around the corner?", he suggested. "but first, let's change you out of that hoodie of his"

he had noticed that you were wearing your boyfriend's hoodie only shortly before he said it. trying to ignore the sting in his heart, he grabbed the seam of the hoodie, waiting for your consent and slowly pulled it up after you nodded. normally, you would have felt embarrassed to stand in front of your best friend with only your bra covering your chest, but riki did not take his eyes off your face, not even one split second. instead, he dropped the hoodie to the floor and quickly took off the zip hoodie he wore on top of a t-shirt, helping you inside and zipping it up - still looking nowhere but your eyes.

when he was done, his lips curled up into a smile and he brushed a strand of hair behind your ear, trying very hard to play it cool when in reality his heart was jumping out of excitement at the sight of you in his clothes.

the two of you silently climbed out of the window and made your way to the convenience store. you got all the things you liked and sat down on a bench in front of the store, sharing your food with each other.

riki couldn't help but smile at your sweater paws and the way not only your hands but practically your entire body would disappear in his hoodie. you looked up at him and just cluelessly reciprocated his smile.

"there you go", he broke the silence. there was nothing that he wanted more than to see you, his best friend, happy and smiling. bonus point if he was the reason for that. he liked to spent time with you and to make you smile. and once or maybe twice he was asking himself if he maybe liked you a little more than he should, but he usually shoved those thoughts aside, just being grateful for the friendship he had with you.

"thank you, riki", you said quietly, leaning closer to him and letting your head sink to his shoulder. he slowly put his arm around your waist, pulling you a bit closer so you could rest on him more comfortably. of course, he liked having you close to him, but this wasn't for his own convenience but solely for the sake of comforting you, being there for you, and hopefully making you feel better.

"anything for you", he replied as he leaned his head against yours.

you smiled to yourself.

"you really are my sweet escape", you said, drawing a chuckle from riki.

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

thank you so much for reading up until here. it means the entire world to me and i hope you guys enjoyed it. please do not copy. ❤︎︎

feel free to leave feedback & interact!

- dazzlingjaeyun

[miserycanary]

MISSION: LOVE KILL  ᡣ𐭩 [trailer]

pairings: Simon 'Ghost' Riley & fem!reader

synopsis: the trailer to my very first full-length series set in a soulmate AU. 

pairings: (applies to future parts) angst, smut, fluff, mutual pining, misunderstandings, rivals to lovers to rivals, featuring Ghost's inability to communicate, graphic mentions of violence, might hint to sexual violence, BARELY PUT TOGETHER, torture, one bed trope, i-will-wait-for-you trope, loving-you-is-like-breathing trope, slowburn (unless I get bored and rush this), poor poor attempt in crack, will add more as we go on

The subtle searing pain on the back of his neck is enough reason for Ghost to hate the idea of soulmates existing. It wasn’t just the fact that he has lived up to his 30s feeling like a fire wasp is buzzing under his skin, it was that the government fully developed their system with pairs in mind. You mean to tell him that he has to have found his partner—who’s probably cities or even continents away—just so that he could fucking own property? Utter fucking bullshit, he calls it. 

‘Nutjobs! The lot of them’

It was also the fact he had to watch his mum’s so-called soulmate almost beat them up to death each day. How could someone whose single purpose in life is to torment them be his mother’s soulmate? Fate either has a weird take on the concept of love and the whole shenanigan or it’s fucking wicked. Either way, the S-word has left a bad taste in his mouth—and memory. He would rather die, not having property—or anything really—to his name if it means that he wouldn’t comply to the fucking standards of pairs. 

Or so he thought because, once again, life is fucking wicked like that. 

When he first broke the news that he would be retiring from the army, he expected his future days ahead full of smooth-sailing lounging. Maybe a cup of tea in hand or even some biscuits if he was feeling fancy. Imagine his shocked face when he inquired with a real-estate agent to finally have something to call home, no longer needing to stay by some cheap hotel with what his little pay could afford, that he cannot fucking do that! 

“Yeah, this would be good. Really nice stuff here,” Ghost gruffs. “Yeah? Well, let’s get started then. Um, here are the paperworks that you need to fill out. Uhh, you just need to input your government code and your partner’s. It is policy that you bring your pair in with you when it comes to legal documents, but I’m sure that we could make an exception for our veteran here,” the agent smiles; one that Ghost did not reciprocate. “I ain’t got a missus with me. Haven’t found them yet.” 

It was a simple explanation, not wanting to dwell too much on his reasons. Before he could even take the papers in his hand, the man retracts. Confusion etched on Ghost’s face while pity is on the man’s. “Oh, I am really sorry but you are legally required to have a partner before you could own property—or anything for that matter.” Ghost looked this agent for a good few minutes, anticipating the ‘sike’ that he desperately wishes to hear but only dead silence echoes. “Surely you could, say, make an except for a veteran?” he nervously chuckles out, trying to weasel his way into a fucking home. Nothing. Dead fucking silence that’s heavy with pity. Ghost loathes it.

Without even saying a word, he turns his back and starts walking towards the car he rented today, because you can’t even own a car in this government! He should have flagged it as weird when the lady in the car shop insists that he should rent first before buying something. So, now he sits in the dingy bar that Soap has dragged him into after he informed the force that he would not be settling anytime soon. After explaining his circumstance, he expected them to react like he did before, but no. They all replied like they knew this. Even saying stuff like, “you didn’t know?” Of course he didn’t! It wasn’t like Ghost was invested in property or anything for that matter while he was serving. All he cared about was surviving each day, and that is it. 

“Aye, cheer up, lad. Life ain’ that bad. Ya’ just gotta get them lassie, and all yer problems would go away,” the Scot on his right drunkenly offers advice—a shit one at that. Did he really think Ghost hasn’t stepped foot on every land they got deployed with heavy hopes that he’ll find whoever he needs to find there? He fucking hates it here. He should have not retired this early if he knew this would happen. Now he needs to go around the world and search for the lassie whose presence—or her lack thereof—is the root of all his problems. 

If finding a needle in a haystack is hard, imagine finding a lady that’s probably moving countries as he speaks with Soap. “Yeah, like that’s fucking easy,” he scoffs, rolling his eyes before lifting his mask just enough to down his shot of whiskey. The fiery burn of the alcohol down his throat is nothing compared to the one on his neck. He would rather have it cut at this point than to go on about this miserable lifetime any longer.

“Should I just cut and peel it off?” he mumbles to no one in particular; probably to Fate if that shit is listening. Seeing that no one else in the rundown bar is really paying attention to him, Soap takes the honour in replying to him instead. “According tae what I’ve seen , jobby pain is hee haw compared tae th' pain ye will feel in yer heart. Doctors say that th' pain goes tae th' heart instead while tripling”. Unprompted, Ghost curses like a fucking sailor. Saying stuff that will probably get him on the government's watchlist if he wasn’t part of the military serving this goddamn country. He risks his life daily and this is what he gets? Ungrateful bastards.

With a slam of the glass on the mahogany table, he stands up with a new profound determination. “Fuck it, I’m finding that missus if it’s the last thing that I do”. “Eyy, that’s the spirit, matie,” Soap drunkenly encourages him, which should have been the first red flag on this idea. Any idea supported by Soap is an immediate botch.

Well, what could go wrong? He’s retired anyway. 

Turns out, many could go wrong. Well, here’s to the fucking shit-show of his life.

꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱: please give this love!!

dividers by @cafekitsune

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check out my other works in the masterlist: ୭!

[violetasteracademic]

On Being a Published Writer: Without a Degree

This is a bit of a vulnerable share today, and I am writing it after a sleepless night, the monster of anxiety and shame weighing heavily on my chest. However, I have come far in life and undergone an incredible amount of healing, and refuse to be ashamed of my past. I hope sharing this can help even one person like me remember that when it comes to craft, when it comes to art, the only thing stopping you from being worthy is you.

This year, I became a published writer. After years of hard work and dedication to my craft, I finally felt good enough to begin submitting my work to literary magazines. I'm proud of that accomplishment. It's a little tag I get to add to my bio now as I submit work that helps make me feel *valid.* But that quickly, all it takes is for someone to remind me that I did not have access to a degree, that I did not learn from the best, and I will spend the rest of my life without a formal education behind my writing, and they achieve the goal they set out: to make me feel less than for not having their background.

In America, the education system is for profit and public school system inconsistent. There are many factors that can contribute to whether or not a person gets through it successfully, and it often has little to do with intelligence, work ethic, or strength of character and drive before the age of 18.

So here is my story:

I graduated high school with a 2.1 GPA.

My first hospitalization (out of the 17 I would have in my life) for edometriomas happened at age 15. I spent the majority of high school struggling with chronic pain, stage four endometriosis and the accompanying endometriomas cysts, and illness. By age 16, social services was threatened by my school to be called on my home for suspected neglect and abuse. I moved out of my house that year, and was given temporary guardianship by a friends family.

By the end of my senior year, I continued to bounce around between friends houses, sometimes sleeping in my car, and struggled to keep on top of my coursework. I was enrolled in the work study program designed for students who had to keep a job during their high school years, and earned school credits for staying employed.

Despite all of this, I still maintained high grades in Advance Placement literature and language, proceeded to get 5's on my AP tests (a perfect score, and a rare accomplishment) as well as near perfect scores on my ACT's. I spent every spare second reading and writing from the moment I learned how. My intelligence and comprehension were not the issue. My health and my home life were.

The only reason I got into college at all was because I decided to audition for a school play freshman year. Much to my surprise, I was cast in the lead role, and thus the course of my life was set. I poured everything I had into acting, I finally had a purpose and something to keep me out of having to go home after school. Still, applying for colleges was one of the most stressful and shame inducing experiences of my life. I got into many top performance programs in the country, then would not get into the university itself with my GPA. The conservatories that did not look into school performance did not provide the financial assistance required for me to attend.

There was one university that offered limited talent admissions that would allow the university admission requirements to be overlooked for students that had displayed exceptional talent in their specialized field of study. I had to put together a request for the school board, complete with letters from my high school teachers providing context for my low GPA paired with high test scores, character assessments on my likely ability to maintain the minimum required GPA in college, as well as a letter from the head of the performing arts department of the university stating that I was worthy of this talent exception. The wait was unbearable. But I was accepted. And I was approved for the work study program that allowed me to gain employment at the university to help offset the cost.

I felt like my whole life had changed in college. I had gotten in. I had gotten out. I was a new person, no one knowing about my past or the stain of my struggles. I had a fresh start. While I continued to battle my illness throughout college, it was manageable with a consistent bed to sleep in every night, as well as access to physical and mental health services. And although I tested out of being required to take any English classes with AP, I still filled my elective credits with writing classes. Screenwriting, playwriting, poetry, creative writing. Performing became my work, and writing became my joy. I took every class that sounded remotely interesting, often filling my schedule more than required on top of my work and performance load.

I am withholding some of the more personal details of my life, but when I finally moved out to LA, I hit the ground running. I accomplished more in a few years than fellow artists and performers who had been out there for more than a decade. And I valued every person I met. I was in small, independent theatre shows with Juliard grads. I was on professional sets with wildly naturally talented people working to get their GED with no formal education but that undeniable *it* factor. People from all walks of life set out for the Angel City to make it, and I was one of them. I also began writing again, this time short films and audition monologues. I began writing pieces for friends and classmates at their request. I secured my first talent agent with a performance piece that I wrote, along with an offer to renegotiate my contract to include literary representation should I complete a script worth shopping. I began to organize applications for writing fellowships at top studios, when my condition became so severe the only option to move forward with my life was surgery. And then my life completely changed again.

I came out of that surgery with nerve damage that left me unable to walk for six months, as well as developed a new permanent nervous system disorder.

My career and my life never recovered. I was permanently changed. However, during that time, I turned one of my sci-fi short films I had written into a 160k word novel, with outlines for a trilogy. While it was one of the darkest times of my life, writing got me through it. I moved out of Los Angeles to a more affordable city and threw myself into writing. I learned that ivy league schools like Stanford, Harvard, and Yale shared their syllabi for continued study coursework online, including the required textbooks for the courses. Example here. I took myself through the textbooks and coursework of top schools, I took every local workshop possible when it was in budget. Any education on craft that was within my means, I reached for.

I will never be able to change the course of my life. I will likely never be able to go back to school. However, this amazing video by Bandon Sanderson helped me overcome my shame, my lack of access to returning to higher education when my life and career were irrevocably changed: Be Anything But an English Major

I had already done what he had encouraged, pick a subject I was passionate about, fill my college coursework with things I found interesting, and let it inform my writing. While this is not to disrespect or degrade English majors or say successful authors think the degree is worthless, I am simply sharing to say this video helped ME combat against English majors who made me feel worthless for not having access to their diploma.

So to anyone feeling insecure today, you do not need a degree in the arts. Whether you want to be an author, an actor, a painter, a fashion designer, a poet. And I say this as someone whose greatest privilege and joy in life was getting a performing arts degree.

We must continue to prioritize art being accessible, value diverse backgrounds, and wish for it to be open and available to all. We must continue to treat art as subjective, and reject ideals that learning from a certain set of paid individuals makes all other opinions, choices, or ideas invalid.

There is no dollar amount I could give to a piece of paper that would make my mind, my intelligence, and my ability to organize and understand words in an impactful way that would make me more valid than I am today. There is no degree that could replace my work ethic, my empathy, my desire to write stories to do good. To give something to the world and help people survive in the ways that I had needed to survive.

Maybe I'll tell this story again one day, and it will help another young person with my background believe there may be more in life than the cards they were dealt. Maybe this will be the first and last time sharing these words. Maybe I'll never get another piece published, but will continue to write fanfic and poetry and prose pieces to share on the internet for free because I believe in my heart it is valuable. To look at myself, and my work, and deem myself worthy of my efforts and passion.

I am proud to be a member of the community of published writers without a degree.

I am even more proud to be a member of online fandoms full of writers, artists, creators, contributors and more who give their free time and energy towards something that does nothing more than make others happy.

So,

to the people who look at the stars and wish.

to the stars who listen— and the dreams that are answered,

this one is for you.