#those of you who have seen the leaks will tell me NOTHING

[novelist-becca]

If and when Eda meets Camila,

I hope Camila goes in for a hug to thank her, similar to how Luz went in for a hug in season 1 instead of shaking Eda’s hand.

[princesssmars]

i'd love just about anyone, so why was it you?

a victoria neuman x reader

your talent for singing is finally starting to take you places in the city of lights. so why did it have to introduce you to a woman who might ruin it all?

wc : 10.248

contains : fxf relationship. readers hair and skin aren't described. fluff. angst.nsfw including sex and language. the french. barely proof-read.

a/n : i cant believe there are no fics for this fine ass woman yet but i am nothing but a pioneer idk. in my daydreams this was like mafia au victoria but i literally never write or dream of those so i opted out lmao. go watch gen v. everyone always talks about how good the cover is but nonante-cinq by angele is a beautiful album so i recommend listening to that for french vibes. enjoy <3

it was the most stereotypical and overplayed song ever, but damn did you love la vie en rose.

just the concept of the song was romantic to you. to live every day like it would be magnificent, like you could know a day would be your last and look back at it and not regret a single thing. it meant looking at the world with a positivity that these days was mostly faked or artificial.

after the life you've lived, the things you've seen firsthand, you need that positive light in your life more than anything else. especially right now, as your manager is hounding you over the phone about your next gig.

now you loved your manager, nancy, you really did. she took you in and was honest when no one else would be, stood by you when no one else wanted to give you a real chance. but sometimes it felt like she didn't really believe in you. obviously, she believed you had talent, or else she would have 'left you in the dust for the rats to pick apart,' in her own words. it was almost like she couldn't fathom that what you had was real, like you didn't truly deserve all the things that were coming to you.

but as long as you were paying her, she didn't bother to speak up on it.

you were listening to her drone on and on into the speaker from your phone, holding the object up to your ear with one hand as you hold a menu to order something from the cafe waitress who's waiting beside you.

"ill have an uhhhh... le marie antoinette, and a coffee with sugar and cream please," you hand the menu to the waitress after she writes down your order, heading back into the cafe with a smile. this cafe was one of your favorites, nestled below an apartment building in one of the inner city arrondissements so you could sit outside beneath an umbrella and admire the city before you. "nancy, i don't see why i can't just...politely turn it down? it sounds like it's a glorified pin-up girl gig, le bellevilloise is offering for me to sing there exclusively for three months-"

"no, that's what im trying to tell you if you'd let me finish." you can hear nancy's telltale sigh through the phone. she had a short temper when she was stressed, something you sadly had in common, and you could hear her clicking a pen through the receiver. "this is an international gala slash fundraiser, attended by the one percent of the one percent. billionaires, senators, diplomats, everything. the event organizer asked for you specifically, so turning it down is a bad look. aka, you're doing it. go out and get a pretty dress. ill send you more details later."

the phone shut off and you let out a huff of air, crossing your right leg over your left beneath the table. once you have your meal and bite into your pastry you can't help but close your eyes at how good it tastes; the combination of the crunch of the macarons, the near-overwhelming sweetness of the cream, and the savory juice that leaks from the raspberries never gets old.

you don't know how you feel about this whole gala thing. sure its a great way to make connections and earn a fat stack of cash that will probably last you few weeks, but you've learned before that the people that you most admire, celebrities, politicians, even superheroes, can't be trusted. and being in a room full of them to perform wasn't at the top of your christmas wish list.

but like everyone else in the world, you were finding money hard to pass up on. just by the lowball nancy told you, you'd be able to comfortably pay the next month's rent and fix up your electric scooter, maybe even enough to save up for that beautiful flat you saw online with the grand windows and nice floor plan.

it'd only be a few hours of singing and kissing up to a bunch of snobs and you'd be done. easy peasy.

finding a dress wasn't to hard. your modeling connections from before you started to focus on singing gave you access to a few, good quality clearance pieces for your picking. you figure that the people you were performing for would prefer something classy and elegant, so you picked out a sleeveless black dress with black opera gloves, accessorized by a diamond necklace and earrings. one of your stylist friends, alex, who you asked to help do up your hair told you 'you're definitely gonna shag a rich man looking like this, just ask them if they have any friends for me!' and after a quick 'please don't wish that upon me' and a spritz of perfume you were ready.

the hours before you got on stage were nothing short of both nerve-racking but exhilarating. you rode in a standard taxi, your slight jitters noticed by the slightly balding man in the front. he eyes you pretty oddly when you got in the car before using you if you were a model, telling you that his daughter would like an autograph if you were. you felt slightly flustered when you had to tell him you weren't, but gave him some tips to tell his daughter if she wanted to pursue it. after around twenty minutes of driving through the city the car stops and you're escorted by a crew member into a grand building, those types you pass by and dream of getting the chance just to step into.

after that its a rush of meeting the event planner who gives you another run down of the evening and then meeting with the band members, a nice group of jazz players who you had heard about on the news for their blends of old and new methods of performing music. they played you a piece on their instruments in their dressing room, and it felt like hanging out with old friends listening to tunes as one twirled you around and the others laughed and the air felt warm and fuzzy.

later its time for your set, where you'll sing as the guests come in and take occasional breaks to save your breath and let whoever is hosting this talk. so you get up on your mini stage, make sure you look alright and you're in tune with the band, and then you do what you do best.

you've never felt better than how you do while you sing. every time you do so you tell a story, tales of success and tragedy and love and heartache. while you sing your favorite thing to do is to admire the crowd. when you were younger it gave you horrible stage fright, but as you grew up and saw just how much people loved your voice it made you confident, if not the tiniest bit narcissistic.

as you look out at the guests of tonight you see what's expected. important and powerful men donned in suits, their wives standing on their arms in glamourous gowns, you swear that you even see some fairly famous celebs in the mix, and they were all listening intently to you and your voice.

and that's when you saw her. near the back of the room with a glass of red wine in her hand, dark hair flowing over her shoulders, and darker eyes trained on you. in this profession you get used to people staring at you for hours on end, but something about this woman unnerves you slightly.

a short while later your set is over and after a round of applause the organizer tells you to enjoy yourselves, and that you're free to indulge in whatever food is left. after a brief touch-up in the dressing room and making sure you look presentable, you head out to get yourself something to eat. you keep getting stopped by people telling you how beautiful your performance was, how they'd love to get in contact with your agent to book you for future events, and your regular dose of creepy old guys hitting on you. but besides that things were going pretty well.

some servers were waking around with trays of champagne, but you figured since everything was complimentary you would treat yourself to something stronger. you head to the bar and order yourself a strong cocktail, and as soon as you finish your order a figure sits on the stool next to yours.

"get me a scotch on the rocks, thanks."

you glance at them from the corner of your eye and feel your heart beat faster when you see

it's the woman from before. from this close distance, you can admire her entirely, and god is she gorgeous. she looks so put together, not a hair out of place, and wearing a perfectly tailored suit that makes you guess she's some kind of wealthy businesswoman.

after not so secretly checking her out, she turns her body towards you and looks at you with a smile.

"im sure you already know, but you have an enchanting voice."

you look down bashfully, thinking the same about her. she speaks like she's so sure of what she's saying like there's no room for debate or argument.

"thank you. no matter if i know or not, it doesn't take much to make me a little nervous every time i perform."

the bartender brings over both of your drinks and she tilts hers to you.

"trust me, theres no need. you're nothing but a natural, one of the best singers i've ever heard."

"ah, now you're exaggerating. is there a reason you're complimenting me like you're being paid to do so?"

she shakes her head, setting down her glass of liquor with a clink. "not anything nefarious, if that's what you're thinking. just glad i get to talk to a beautifully talented woman."

jeez, she was laying it on thick. normally this was coming from some fifty-year-old man with greasy skin and weird teeth, but it felt nice coming from her. she was obviously gorgeous, leaving her body language open in case you wanted to decline and she would walk away in a moment's notice.

"im glad i get to talk to you too, miss?"

"victoria. its a pleasure to talk to you, miss y/n."

for around an hour or two the both of you sat at that bar, blocking out the fake laughs of investors and boisterous noises of people who got a little too friendly with the free champagne. she was so attentive to you. asking about what got you into singing and what brought you to paris by your non-native accent. you normally kept the finer details of your past a close-guarded secret, but you figured there couldn't come any harm from telling this attractive stranger a few things about yourself before never seeing her again.

"you're telling me at only sixteen years old, you flew to paris by yourself and made a living for yourself? you've got balls on you, sister."

"yeah yeah, but im nothing special. i just got tired of all the bullshit in the u.s., y'know? the greed, the cynicism, the-"

"superhero bullshit?"

you giggled while she smirked, observing your smile and how it made your eyes squinch.

"well i wouldn't put it like that but...superheros? really? its just, they make it so american, in a really really annoying way. i just couldn't deal with that being a reality. and where better than paris? it seems like voughts all but forgotten about it recently, thank god.”

"i understand. and i know we just met, but it does suit you. 'beautiful runaway finds passion, life, and love in the city of lights'. best cliche there is."

"and what a damn good cliche it is to be. although i haven't been that lucky on the love front."

her eyebrow raises and her nail traces around the rim of her glass.

"im sorry but i simply cant believe that. someone like you would have people lining up for a chance to talk to you, let alone date you."

you dryly chuckle before taking another long swig of your glass of champagne, dancing just on the edge of being intoxicated. you understood why everyone else was drinking this, it was sweet but strong.

"people have tried, of course. but sadly most of my escapades end in tragedy. very melodramatically. but enough about me, I'm guessing this isn't gonna go my way and you have someone waiting for you at home?"

"im offended you still think so low of me. but no, there was someone but it didn't work out. now its just me and my daughter."

god, she was a milf. if there was a god you prayed he would let you get lucky tonight.

"well, im sorry to hear it didnt work out."

"are you really?"

she looks at you with a smirk on her face.

"no, im not."

that was all she needed to ask you to come back with her to her hotel.

and not just any hotel, she was rich enough to be spending two weeks in the damn ritz. asking again what she did for a living didn't get you very far, the only hint you got being that it helped her change the world. ominous but whatever. it had to be legitimate if she was invited to that gala.

the cautious and common sense side of you is snuffed out for the night the moment she set her hand over the covered skin of your thigh in the car, the feeling of her hand on your lower back leading you through the pristine lobby of the hotel, that same hand helping you take off your dress and take you apart slowly over the rest of the night.

when you wake up the sun is peeking through the curtains, the softness of the sheets your laying on calling you back to sleep before you get up and look around.

you only got a few seconds to admire the room last night before victoria was on you, and now in the light of day you could truly take everything in. you find a note left by the woman, letting you know she had to leave temporarily for an important job thing and that she'd be back my lunch, inviting you to call up room service and enjoy the room intil then.

you were expecting for her to tell you to pack your shit up and go, so despite the oddness this was a nice surprise. besides, there was no way you were gonna pass up on ordering a five-star breakfast you didnt have to pay for.

after indulging in a meal brought by room service and finding ways to pass the time, you text your manager after she happily lets you know that your night was a success and that your payment should be cleared shortly. while you're in the middle of wondering if you should answer her query about the host wondering where you wandered off to last night, the sound of a door opening makes your head jerk towards the small entry area, victoria coming in through the doorway dressed in a tan suit and carrying a large black briefcase on her arm.

"ah, youre still here!,” she sets her bag on a glass table near the door and strides into the room, eyes connected with yours the whole time. you weren’t feeling nervous before, but under her gaze you wonder if maybe you should have taken that free meal along with some tiny soaps from the bathroom and headed back home.

“yeah, figured i’d stick around for whatever. besides, i had to stay and blame you for my manager thinking i got kidnapped.”

“i’ll make sure to apologize and send her an edible arrangement. besides, i hope to take up more of your time in the future.”

your eyes bulge so hard you’re sure you look like a moron. you cover it up by getting up to get yourself another cup of coffe from the tray the food came in on.

“well i should’ve guessed this was more than a one night stand when you allowed me to order up breakfast. but now i have to admit i’m slightly scared you’re actually plotting to traffick me.”

"trust me, that wouldn't be good for business. id just like to see you some more, if that would be alright with you.

was that an actual question? after the night you had and the way she’s been treating you, you didn’t see much of a choice except to say yes.

she tells you that a few hours later she has a flight back to america, but that she wouldn't mind spending the day with you if you're free. you agree to get a little bite to eat and it turns into a whirlwind day of showing her around the city you call your home. she has to wear giant sunglasses the whole time and have a mysterious security detail not too far behind, but you wouldn't change anything about it.

at the end of it all, she bids you goodbye in front of your taxi, admiring the cute outfit she bought for you so you wouldn't have to go home in your dress from the night prior, promising that she'll keep in touch with you once she gets settled in back a new york, jokingly telling you she'll send you a postcard. as you sit in the back of the taxi, your heart inflates a little as you take in the events of the last day. you never liked to mix business with pleasure in this way, partly because most of those business people were gross perverts and also that it could damage your career beyond repair, but with victoria you can't help but think that it was worth it.

eventually, a few days pass by, and the only calls you've gotten are from friends congratulating on what they heard was another great performance. and as nice as all the praise and the new gigs you started to get felt, the longer you heard no word back from victoria, it started to eat away at you inside.

back at your favorite cafe you sit with two of your oldest friends, jamie and chloe, as they ramble about the details of their changing lives and jobs. you don't know when you zoned out but eventually, chloe's manicured finger lightly pokes at your cheek, giggling when you make a playful motion to bite it.

"where'd you go just now? take me with you before jamie keeps talking about his new lover."

"hey!" jamie pouts, "you're just jealous because i've been regularly having passionate sex allll night long while you're still vying over your boss." you hear a shocked gasp behind him and you all turn to see an elderly couple looking at jamie like he's said the most blasphemous thing they've ever heard.

"really classy, james." you snort.

"what the hell! you're supposed to be on my side! everyone has noticed how you've been in a better mood since that gala. alex told us how they checked up on you afterwise and you showed up a day later with a new outfit and a hickey on your neck."

"that is- god, that’s so intrusive and so like them,” you rolled your eyes. you knew as soon as alex saw you that morning that they’d be gossiping to everyone about the state they saw you in. “and i don’t kiss and tell like that. at least not in public like this.”

“ok, so we’ll stop by your place tonight with some wine and talk all about it tonight. agree?”

“what? no-”

“agree!” chloe beams and shakes hands with jamie across the table, blowing you kisses before leaving her share of the bill on the table and leaving with some excuse of having to be somewhere. you glare at jamie as a warning before he gives you a kiss on the cheek and does the same. you grumble before biting into your muffin.

a few hours later you’re sitting on your soft sofa with jamie’s head in your lap and chloe on the other side, talking and laughing about old stories from your jobs. you take a sip of merlot right before jamie brings up what you were hoping they’d forgotten about by now.

“ok ok, enough chatter. seriously, chlo, you cackle like a seagull. y/n, when are you going to tell us about this mystery lover of yours? do you need another glass of wine to start talking?”

“don’t even think about pouring me another glass. look, there’s not much to say, ok? i was singing, she was staring at me from across the bar, we flirted a little, that was it!”

they stared.

“you want more?”

“how could we not? we haven’t seen you like this with anyone! not since we took you on that tourist tour on the seine!”

that…that took you for a spin. you remembered it clear as day, them tugging you along when they’d heard since you came to paris you’d been focusing on building up your image and working. it was more a joke, but the lights of the boat, the sky and the lights made you feel like you were in the most perfect moment of your life. hearing them compare that to how you looked now had a nervous feeling building in your gut.

“we spent the night together. and it was…good. really good. she let me stay while she went out, bought me a new outfit then said she’d be in touch.”

your friends are silent. way too silent. you’re afraid they’re about to laugh and judge you before they’re squealing and tackling you, pulling back when you groan after you almost spill your wine on your clothes.

"god, why are you always the lucky one? this isn't fair! at all!" chloe groans while dramatically resting her head on your shoulder, jamie still giggling as the wine clearly starts to take an effect on him. "please, please tell us what happens next before i scream."

"no thats- i mean, thats it. so far. for now." you stutter along your words as your friends' faces go blank yet again, except this time without a hint of a chuckle or smile.

"what the hell do you mean 'that's it.'? she ghosted you?" jamie gasps.

"no, she didnt ghost me-"

"sweetheart, im sorry to say this but you have been ghosted. in a really dickhead way."

"its not like that! she's a busy person with a serious job and a kid and responsibilities!"

you briefly hear chloe snicker "milf?" before you roll your eyes.

"she's gonna contact me. and even if she doesn't, maybe it was just a nice one-time thing! everyone knows I'm great at those."

jamie snickers before chloe smacks his shoulder in a second.

"why? why did you laugh?"

they share a look before she smacks his shoulder again.

"would you stop? i have pains, you know this. but y/n, we know you. we love you. but your latest stints haven't been...the most successful. or left you in the best headspaces."

"he's right, honey. remember the last girl, hannah? one of the worst situationships i've ever seen. you told us you would be alright when she broke it off and then we found you at that lousy bar at eleven in the morning..."

you start biting at your lip. there was nothing you hated more than when they told you the truth about how you could act. it wasn't your fault that all the time your relationships got messy, or that you got attached a little quickly. people didn't understand but a life like yours could be lonely. standing up on a stage and performing for people who want you to do just that and only that: sing and look like a glamourous pin-up doll. most of the time its the other performers who even bother to ask if your throat is alright after singing for hours.

so yes, sometimes you rushed into relationships. and you might have done it again in the dumbest way possible.

"i just...she let me stay after, y'know? and she came back and brought me with her again. why go through that effort just to leave me behind like trash?" your friends pouted before closing in to comfort you, rubbing your back and giving you small affirmations.

for a month you go into a rut. unless it's performing or going to the dentist for a checkup you don't leave your house. you become pretty good acquaintances with the grocery delivery boy, benny, who started panicking when he realized he forgot one of your items until you assured him it was fine. it wasn't the first time you'd grown so oddly attached to a romantic prospect, and it wasn't the first time you'd gotten hurt by it. you spend your time moping on your couch and binge-watching your favorite show for the third time when your phone buzzes from beside you.

nancy schmancy : call me.

you rolled your eyes. she could have just called you in the first place, but no. she had to be extra about it. you press the call button and don't have to wait even five seconds for her voice to ring in your ear.

"do you want to know what mister barbier just emailed me?"

"i think you already have that answer for me."

"he said, and i quote, 'tell y/n i send my best wishes. her performance last night was hauntingly beautiful, and i'm hoping it was one of her greatest acts yet.'"

"if you ask me, it sounds like i did a pretty good job."

"it sounds like he thought you were singing your damn suicide note!" she groaned, and you could hear her face scrunching from over the phone. "i don't know what is going on with you recently, and i don't want to sound insensitive, but if you can't manage to keep your work and personal life separate, even i can't help you make it far in this business. clients may say they want you to be expressive but they only mean so far. unhappy music means unhappy customers, capeche?"

"i understand, nancy. ill send a personal apology to mister barbier."

"good. ill call you soon to let you know about any new gigs. take care of yourself. seriously."

the line clicks and you toss your phone onto the couch and take another sip of sauvignon blanc from your rose-shaped wine glass. it pained you to admit it, but nancy had a point. if you kept letting yourself mope in your feelings you'd run out of people who wanted you to sing, and if the point came where you were out of gigs...you didn't even want to think about it. if you weren't singing you weren't living.

only a few hours after that call you manage to get back to normal. you go out and get your own groceries, deciding to indulge yourself and buy the ingredients for some recipe you saw online months ago. one of your clients cries at your performance, ecstatically telling you they'll be in talks with your manager to set up a stable contract. things really start to look up. two weeks later you even manage to get the number of a cute girl, elise, a tall woman with dyed hair who reached for the same vintage music box as you at an open market.

you're smiling as you look down at the messy ink on a slip of paper, the numbers and tiny smily face distracting you as you enter the hallway to your apartment. so distracted that you nearly trip over a object on the floor, looking down to see...a bouquet?

a really gorgeous bouquet you notice as you bend over to pick it up. its a collage of dusty blues and off-colored ivories, and when you brought it closer to your nose for a whiff you felt a sense of bliss. you bring it into your apartment with a skip in your step before you spot a piece of paper among the flowers, plucking it from the collection and reading it over.

upon closer inspection, you can see its a postcard, the cover a flattering shot of the statue of liberty with text that reads "love from new york city!". you try to calm your heart down at the location and the 'love' part, but you've already gotten your hopes up when you turn the card around to read the message:

xxx-xxx-xxxx

sorry for the wait. i'll make it up to you, angel.

you'd never felt so conflicted as you did in the past five seconds. half of you was vindicated that yes, this attractive woman didnt leave you high and dry and did actually have a deeper interest in you, but the other part was angry. and embarrassed that you were angry, because again, you spent less than a day with this woman, she didn't owe you anything. but also yes the hell she did.

before you could get yourself together you were harshly tapping the number into your cell, biting at your lip as the phone slowly rings.

"y/n, is that you?" echoes from the line, victorias voice sounding and running over your head like soft silk. no, no, stop it. focus.

"howd you know it was me? im sure you have other people who'd be calling you this late."

"certainly not anyone with a phone number from paris. besides, i was hoping it'd be you."

"well, i would have been flattered two weeks ago but unfortunately i dont think your words could phase me right now."

she sighs and the line goes silent. you feel bad for being catty for a few seconds before you brush it off. she's the one who played with your emotions and promised to call you but never did. she had this coming.

"im sorry, really i am. i've been busy with things at work and my daughter-"

damn it, she pulled the kid card again.

"i just...dont like being lied to. or led on. maybe its my fault for beeing too clingy-"

"no, no. dont apologize. if it means anything youve been on my mind for weeks now."

"yeah, same here. except my thoughts havent been all that nice." you laugh.

"deserved. and id like to make it up to you."

"oh yeah? let me guess, this time we'll spend two nights together?"

"close. how about two weeks. in new york."

you don't know if you should laugh. you feel like you should, so you do. but she isn't.

"you...you're being serious."

"im being serious."

what do you even say? what do you even do? of course, whatever higher power there is would make your life stable and steady for the past few months then throw this in to shake you up. you really should have been expecting it, considering...

you shake yourself back to the present. victoria is still waiting on the other line, unwilling to rush you into a decision, apparently. you'd applaud her for her chivalry if you weren't so stunned.

"victoria, come on. we've only met once, and while it was nice it was brief. now you want me to upend my life and career to jet off to america? it sounds crazy."

"you make me a bit crazy, honestly. besides, you were telling me in bed you haven't been in the states since you left, i have a feeling you miss it more than you let on."

you shuffle in your spot, reminded that you're standing in your cold-ass kitchen and you haven't changed out of the outfit you wore out today. but half of your uncomfortableness is from a feeling gnawing at your chest because she's right. at this point you can barely remember the night you left your childhood home, but you know it was rushed. you wanted to forget everything.

"i think you're also forgetting that i have a blossoming career here. are you gonna pay my definitely going to be pissed off manager her wages? plus i was supposed to be first pick for this really good gig-"

"i'll pay for everything, i promise. dont forget that i have connections. in two weeks they''ll be singing you praises across the globe."

you close your eyes and take in a breath.

"can you make my ticket first class?"

-

one thing you didnt miss about america? just how...much everything was, all the time.

your flight was quiet. victoria didnt hesitate to book you an expensive ticket, almost taking offense to your request for a nice one and scheduling you for business class, sending you a text to get lots of rest in the ultra-luxe beds on the plane. it was probably one of the best nights sleeps you'd had in months.

when you got off the plane there were two tall escorts holding a sign with your last name on it, taking the suitcases from your hands before you could say anything and leading you into a sleek black car. a voice in the back of your head starts screaming but you ignore it. for now.

the men in the car give you some basic rundowns, how they'll constantly be hovering over you during your stay for your "protection", and that they'll be taking you to settle into a hotel until victoria makes contact, and the little voice starts freaking out again and telling you that you've slept with and are fraternizing with a mob boss. at least it's more exciting than your last few flings.

the car goes silent after that, and you put in your earbuds as you watch the city go by. you weren't from new york, but you loved watching movies set in the bustling cityscape. the buildings really are humongous, and you see so many different types of people it sets your brain on a whirlwind.

you look back down at your phone after the fifth 'the seven' advertisement in one block.

yet again you're led into a clearly extremely expensive hotel, breezing through reception before you are led to a luxuriant hotel room, the bodyguards ignoring you as you giggle and flop onto the bed, waving them off when they tell you they'll be posted outside.

the sheets feel heavenly on your skin, and with the soft sunshine from the window beaming down on you and the gentle hustle and bustle of new york outside, you think you could fall asleep in a minute. but, begrudgingly, you peel yourself form the bed and open your suitcase to start putting your clothes away before taking a quick shower in the giant bathtub.

just as you exit the shower and wrap your body in a towel, your phone starts ringing and as soon as you read the 'v' in the contact name you push answer and bring it to your ear.

"hello? vic?"

"hey, hon. eager to talk to me?"

"you called me. and 'hon'? really? we've moved to petnames already?"

"figured id start making up for those weeks with no contact. and id like to do so again tonight. i wanna bring you somewhere."

your mouth quirks up in a smile as you re-adjust the towel around your body, the phone nearly slipping from its quick placement between your phone and ear, "id really like that. i hope its out to dinner, i didnt care to eat any of the plane food."

“yes, it’s to dinner. but its up to you if you want it to be fancy or casual. i know its tacky but there’s this pretty cute french place near where i live...”

“that vaguely sounds like an invitation to your place, but ill let it slide. are you gonna pick me up or are your special agents going to escort me everywhere for the next few weeks?”

“special agents? what agents?”

a bead of water drips from your neck down your back and it feels like the tip of a knife. a pressure builds in the back of your throat and your fingers grip the fabric of your towel. “what…that’s a joke, right?”

her laughter rings in your ear and you are seconds away from hanging up the call.

“sorry, sorry. i sometimes have a weird sense of humor. you'll get used to it.”

“i doubt it.”

“and i'm hopeful. i'll let you go so you can get ready, i'll be by in under an hour.”

you hang up after a sweet goodbye and gently sit on the toilet. your brain is rushing to catch up after the conversation like your body goes on autopilot when you hear victoria's voice. its terrifying and its thrilling. and you don't know why a part of you likes the feeling.

after you brush your teeth, do some quick skincare, debate over shaving just in case, and spend twenty minutes picking out a cute outfit, you finally hear the gentle knocking on the door while you're double-checking over the content of your purse.

rushing to open the door, you're greeted with the sight of a smiling victoria, her hands tucked into the pants of her clearly expensive pinstriped pantsuit. you're admiring the look of her hair tucked back into a ponytail when she's reaching forward and pressing a soft kiss to your cheek.

"you look perfect. come on, i made us a reservation."

and it turned out to be a perfect night. she did end up taking you to the french place, allowing you to order whatever you wanted. that place was weirdly empty, only a handful of other patrons inside. you were pleased to see that the waitress was french herself, having a small chat about the customs and foods she missed while she praised the authenticity of the food at the restaurant.

only a day and you had already forgotten how forward the people back home could be, because the waitress throws a subtle look at victoria and compliments you on finding such an attractive woman. when she leaves vic just smiles.

“ok, id say at this point we’re doing pretty good with the communication thing, right?” you ask, taking a sip of the pricey wine your date ordered.

“yeah, id say that.”

you finger the rim of your glass, the nerves getting to you before you ask your question. "i want you to tell me what your job is. your actual job, not some vague ass title. you have security following gus around, so i feel like i should know."

"no, no, you're right. i just didnt wanna scare you off. or have you think differently of me once i told you." she sighs, thumbing the napkins on the table. "i work in the government. i'm a congresswoman, to be exact."

you don't doubt she's a politician for a second, because she shows no hint of nervousness at your lack of emotion.

"are you...a good congresswoman?"

"i don't really know how to answer that." she laughs.

"i'm sorry. i knew you were important enough to be at that gala, but a politician is...tricky."

she reaches across the table and lays her hand palm up, smiling when you rest yours on top of it. "look, i get it. i should have told you sooner but please understand why i didn't. i wanted to get to know you as normally as possible, without all of the press and politics in the way."

"normally as possible, huh? that includes sleeping together on the first night?"

you're trying to show your acceptance of the situation with your humor, but you can tell victoria can sense your uneasiness at the situation. here you were thinking you had found some under-the-radar millionaire to dote on you and instead, you'd roped in someone whose job was entirely in the public eye that could be put in danger at the flip of a switch.

"how about we finish up and take this back to my place? i'll tell you everything that you wanna know about me. no matter how personal."

you stare into her eyes for a few seconds and decide that she looks genuine, getting confirmation that her daughter is staying with a friend before ending your meal and following her to her place.

for the amount of money she's ready to spend on you, you're surprised to see that victoria lives in a chic but quaint townhome only a twenty-minute walk from the restaurant. she gently takes off your coat and instructs you to sit with her on the couch, pressing on a remote to turn on her fireplace.

after a few hours and two more glasses of wine, victoria had opened up to you about nearly everything in her life. the mysterious death of her birth family, being adopted by a man who helped pushed her to go into a political career, her polite but loveless marriage with her ex. she even shows you a picture of zoe that she has in her wallet, taking the chance to gush over her daughter. she seems like such a sweet girl.

maybe it's the wine or maybe it's the way vic is opening up to you so freely, but you decide to tell her more about your past. how you always wondered why you barely stuggled moving to another continent at such a young age, or the fact that you dont even remeber why you had the drive to leave your parents home in the first place. you didnt even remember the last words you said to each other.

and throughout it all she's nothing if not attentive, she doesnt ask questions unless you give her permission too, keeping her eyes on you and gently placing her hand over yours.

you feel a turning in your stomach when she moves a stray hand of hair behind your ear. you told yourself to try taking things slow this time, but your body is starting to feel fuzzy and shes looking at you like she wants to devour you.

she decides to indulge you and gently brushes her lips against yours, smiling at the way your breath staggers. your head moves forwards to finaly get her to kiss you but she jerks her head back.

"i want you to tell me what to do."

god, your stomach feels hot. this is new, but a really arousing style of new. the last time you both slept together she had taken a careful but unwavering charge, unraveling you with a steady hand a sweet smile.

"cmon just...please?"

"no. tell me what you want me to do."

you sigh and bite at your lip. "i want you to lay me down and fuck me. right now."

so she laid you down and she did. there were no words to describe how much you enjoyed that night on her couch, the way she could read your body like a book and brought you to ecstasy again and again and again...

and when you wake up a soft blanket is draped over your body, a brekfast of coffee and some crepes set in front of you.

the days after are a whirlwind. discreetly as possible victoria takes you on a tour of new york city, to more expensive restaurants and hidden jewels that most tourists skipped over.

youre lounging in your hotel room when you decide to inform your friends of how your trip is going. while slightly hesitant they seemed more than happy that you were enjoying yourself with someone who took a genuine interest in you.

until you told them her job.

"my love, are you insane? a politician?"

"an american politician?" chloe gasps, continuing off of jamies shock.

"hey, im american too dont forget!"

"of course you are, but please, you understand why this is not good, no?"

"you know how fishy they are, especially with all the supe business going on. that place is getting more dangerous by the day, and i dont think you should be seeing someone whos contirbuting to that."

it pained you to admit it but jamie had a point. the three of you would always laugh in amused horror at how badly things were going on in your birth country, and the politics...it was less than pleasant.

not to mention the supe business. every corner of the world had to deal with the annoyance that was vought and their "products", even france. but so far you'd just had to deal with a few perverted looks from traveling supers and talks of some stupid theme park a few miles out of the city. meanwhile, it seemed like every day a new superhero was being introduced to the American public. it unnerved you.

"i understand. i appreciate both of you looking out for me. trust me, i'll be on my guard for now on." you mumble, picking at the material of your sleeve.

"of course, songbird. we'll call again soon."

the call ends and drop your phone on the nightstand. you look at the eiffel tower cutout in your phone case and your heart aches.

the next morning you're eating a a breakfast of coffee and fruit crepes when your phone rings, dragging your atttention away from the trashy dating show you were watching on the bedroom's tv. when you see nancy's name you hesitantly answer the call.

"nance? is everything alright?"

"everything is great. i'm just here to check in about your next gig."

"my next- nance, im on vacation. please tell you didnt forget and booked me for a job when im across the ocean."

"no, im not that stupid, hon." she sighs. "i didnt even arrange this job, victoria did. im just the messenger."

you blink once. then twice. you remember vic saying something about helping you with a job but you honestly just thought that was bullshit to get her to come stay with you.

(or get in your pants. but you don’t think you’d be too upset about that now.)

“ok. thank you, nancy. tell me the details.”

it’s a lot more extravagant than you expected. victorias friend, an actual senator, was holding a fundraising event for some government program he and vic were both involved in. nancy wasn’t told what the program was, but that you would have to go through a security debrief before being told you'd be given a team to help you prepare. and picking from a selected closet of dresses. fun.

you ignore the feeling of nervousness that’s building up in your gut. because while all of your gigs were important, they were never this important. you push it down as you call victoria and thank her endlessly, when you tell your friends the minimum amount that you can tell them, and when victoria picks you up from outside your hotel twelve hours before the event even starts.

she pressed a small kiss to your hand, laughing at the grumpy and tired mumble you let out when you sit in the car seat. it only passes once she gives you a coffee she picked up, the caffeine waking you up and putting a smile on your face.

the content feeling turns into shock when you enter victorias' place and see zoe, vic throwing a short explanation of “busy babysitter” over her shoulder as she heads into the kitchen.

its a bit awkward at first, sitting on one couch as she plays on a black nintendo switch on the other. it helps when you ask her about whatever she’s playing, the girl diving into a rant about the farm game she’s playing and how she’s trying to catch a certain type of fish.

victoria comes back with a tray of breakfast for the three of you before asking her daughter how school is going, how her friends are, etc. its nice to get a glimpse into victories private life during the morning, the close bond she has with her daughter. you notice some tension but decide not to bring it up.

the morning goes by too quickly, zoe being picked up to be dropped off at a friend's house after giving you a sweet goodbye and you getting rushed upstairs as the team comes to the townhome to help you prepare. its a nice change, having other people doll you up instead of having to worry about trying to do everything correctly and by yourself. and its a perk you don't have to spend your own money to do it.

the team members are nice but punctual, finishing your hair and makeup in record time with not a second wasted. you barely get time to notice yourself in the mirror before you're ushered into a gorgeous gown, soft fabrics and a chic and elegant style.

when your finished you’re finally allowed to observe yourself while your transportation and is prepared, and it feels like you’re looking at a dream version of yourself.

as you admire yourself in the mirror vic comes up next to you, clearly enjoying herself as her eyes slowly drift up and down your body.

“you look…ethereal.” she whispers, pressing a small kiss to your cheek after you turn to smile at her.

“only because of you. i don’t know how i could ever make this up to you, vic. this is just…”

“trust me, you’ve already done enough.”

while you knew there would be some press at the event, you didn't expect over two dozen paparazzi to quickly start flashing their cameras in your direction as soon as you got out of your ride. questions about who you were wearing, the relationship you had with vic, etcetera etcetera. you would've buckled from the sudden pressure if it weren't for victoria’s steady hand on your waist, the press of her arm through her red pantsuit.

the venue is downright insane, so grand you start to wonder if you're in one of those gilded age mansions you used to read about in new york magazines. climbing pillars and art on the ceiling of the main hall, which you don't get to admire since you’re yet again whisked away to get ready.

after a few more touch ups you aren’t afforded a minute to prepare, guided to the edge of the performance area. the sinking feeling is back in your stomach. the biggest moment of your life and you feel like you’re going to be sick.

the lights dim and you glide onto the stage, able to see the shadows of the guests faces from the flickering table lights. it’s eerie, the amount of them staring up at you with eyes you can’t even see.

you were given a set list a few days prior, only a couple of songs for the payment you would apparently receive after this. the songs piqued your interest, a collection of classical melancholic pieces from around the fifties. vic told you her friend was a vintage nut, but you didn't know why he chose these for you to perform when the event seemed to have an uplifting aura.

either way it felt…different, singing this time. the spotlight was on you and you’ve never felt as beautiful as you did in this moment. everyone was watching you, so hooked on the melodies escaping your body that you could see the emotions brining some people to the edge of their seats.

you don’t let it show but you grow a bit anxious at the sight of supers in their uniforms in the crowd. you don’t see anyone from the seven, but you do notice a woman you recognized from some commercial about climate change and earth preservation, the green of her dress and the nature motifs in her outfit give you a clue as to what her power was.

just when you feel yourself about to slip, dangerously close to hitting a note at a weird pitch, you see victoria, getting deja vu at the sight of her staring at you from the bar like the first night you met. she's looking at you like she's never doubted you for a second, like you're an angel sent from above that's blessed her life.

you hold her gaze when you sing. noticing the soft smile on her face when you sing a lyric about how the feelings in your heart feel so intense you fear you're going insane.

when the first song ends the lights come back on and you're met with a polite yet thunderous applause, the smile on your face so wide your cheeks start to hurt. the presenter comes back on stage, praising your performance with a swipe at his eyes before telling the guests that the host would be on shortly, and after he gives a short speech you'd be back to sing some more. with a gentle nod and wave, you step off the stage.

you feel like you're walking on air, with no doubt that was one of your best performances yet. your emotions got a little intense there but nothing you couldn't manage, and everyone seemed to like it anyway.

you're able to send a quick text and a picture to jamie and chloe before you hear the sound of the door to your quaint dressing room open, not able to turn around before you feel hands around your waist and plush lips on the side of your neck, the sight of victoria wrapped around you in the mirror making butterflies swarm in your stomach.

"i take it you liked my singing?"

"like doesn't even begin to cover it," she mumbles into your neck, raising her head slightly to be able to hold eye contact through the mirror. "i'm so lucky i found you, y'know that?"

you playfully brush her off, telling her you have to freshen up for some mingling before you get back on stage. she gladly helps you with your makeup, and while you weren't expecting her to be so touchy tonight you definitely aren't complaining, especially when her hand starts to drift closer to the space between your legs. it takes an embarrassing amount of mental strength to deny her, promising you'll continue once you go back to her place.

once you're finished getting ready she leads you back out to the hall, introducing you to numerous business people, politicians, celebrities, etc. you try not to fangirl when you meet a singer whose songs you've been obsessed with lately and when she asks you to perform at her cousins wedding. victoria just smirks when she leads you away and you let out a tiny squeal under your breath.

once the networking is done you're able to take the time to sit down and eat some of the catered food, almost moaning at the tastes of the food. you sometimes forget just how good food could be in the states, and these rich people pulled out all the stops. you try not to eat too quickly or impolitely as victoria talks with her tablemates, some people from her job apparently. after the first introductions and praises they gave you you mentally tapped out of the situation. she luckily covers for you when they question your mood, laughing when she tells them you've had a long day of being treated like a singing barbie doll.

everyone in the room quiets down when the hos taakes the stage and starts his speech. he introduces himself as robert stendham, and you feel a little embarrassed that this man gave you the chance to sing here and you didn't even know his name. you're thinking about how odd it is that you weren't introduced before this when he mentions something about the program and you perk up.

"...extend a personal thank you to general jameson for finding the time to escape his duties to fly in and be here with us tonight, and a special thanks to director neuman for helping me with this project and finding the beautifully talented y/n to perform for us tonight."

there was a brief few seconds of applause, victoria looking around and giving out smiles while you wondered what the hell she was the director of.

"as you can see, we have a few supers with us tonight. people like hazelwood, whose efforts against climate change have lead to over a dozen organizations plating millions of trees and clearing millions of pounds of trash for the ocean. because that's what supers are supposed to do-protect us. not act like degenerates who get to do what they want because of their abilities."

your eyebrow twitches, sensing the slight anti-supe propaganda from the end of his speech. well, not anti every supe, just the ones who act like gods among men, which you could understand. but you still felt an uneasy feeling rising in your stomach. you feel vic's palm rest over the top of your hand under the table.

"which is why im incredibly honored that director and congresswoman neuman has extended a hand to me to invest in the federal bureau of superhuman affairs, and to further extend that hand to you to help participate in this monumental institution..."

everything is a fog and your brain taps out once he starts talking about what this burerua does, how they closely monitor supes and jail the ones who've caused public harm. your head feels hot and your chest feels cold, and you can't stop your body from going on auto-pilot and excusing yourself to the bathroom before finding some balcony on the higher floor.

the cold air of new york shocks your body back into normalcy, but the pounding in your head persists. it feels like a panic attack ut so much worse, like your fight or flight has been activated without anything even happening. had you rushed into all of this? chasing a girl and a dream like you were a teenager again?

yet again the door opens behind you and someone comes to stand next to you, able to tell who it is by the scent of brown sugar and the glimpse of dark hair blowing with the slight breeze.

"you alright? mr. brandon from the tech startup was asking about you, tried to make me invest in some room light plant grower hybrid-"

"why did you bring me here?"

you cut her off and the air is quiet, save for the sounds of cars and the city and the wind. it's weird, standing in a tense silence like this with her.

"how are you feeling?" she whispers .

"are you- " you turn, nearly giving yourself whiplash with the speed at which you turn to look at her. the look on her face, like she's just observing you and how you're reacting. it only upsets you more. "are you being serious?"

"yes, i am. tell me."

"no, answer my question first. why are you avoiding it?"

she sighs, brushing a few strands of hair away from her face before reaching to grab your hand, which you hesitantly let her hold.

"as you heard, im part of a buereau that monitors supherhumans, keeping track of them, making sure they cant use their powers for harm. so far we've only had to deal with supes here in the states. until one day, this couple comes in that believe their daughter has used her powers on them."

she reaches for something in her pocket and your grip tightens. she pulls out a polaroid and holds the picture up for you to see. you feel like you're going to vomit when you see you, smiling, standing with your parents in a backyard.

"what...what is this? how'd you get this?"

"the couple gave me this picture, and told me how weird the least few years have been. friends and family asking where their daughter went, how she was doing, a daughter they didnt even remeber having."

you bring a hand up to your head, hopelessly trying to dissipate the splitting headache that's forming.

"but then they said the memories started coming back. glimpses of a child running in the grass, birthday parties, graduations, talent shows-"

"stop, please just stop." you gasp, hunching over as good as you can with the restrictions of your gown. it doesn't even feel like the world is just spinning, it feels like its being played in some celestial game of pool. "so what, you're saying...you're saying i did that? to my parents?"

"yes," she reaches for the side of your face, guiding you to look up at her. "and you can do so much more. you already have."

this can't be happening.

"why do you think people react so emotionally to your singing? you think its just because you're amazing? that's not even half of it."

your breathing is picking up again.

flashes of memories start appearing in your vision. so many happy times with your parents that you forgot, friends that you left behind. how your parents didn't support your half-thought-out plan to become a singer, how you made them forget. made yourself forget.

"i don't want you to think i did all of this just for what i want. i didn't. i care about you, and i want you to help me. but you need to trust me."

the blood is rushing back and from your head, and you think about how weird her eyes look against the backdrop of the city before you pass out.

finally. FINALLY. ong i wrote like 1k in the past day because i said just get this shit over with but its done! 5 months later! hope you enjoyed :)

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA if

i had a falling out with this friend of mine, who is also a tumblr user. there have been a lot of reasons for that, and one of the many-many reasons were her political views, that are generally considered questionable by people around here. people usually wanna know if the person they're interacting with is that type of a person. disclaimer: she's not like. A Bigot. or something. it's just that a lot of people are uncomfortable interacting with someone who holds those views.

she's like, not exactly open about them but reblogs a ton from people who are and made a couple posts that make them obvious.

however, she likes interacting with all kinds of people despite their DNIs and stuff, because she thinks there's no harm as long as they don't know, even if it's all on her blog.

now, to the aita part. we don't follow each other anymore but tumblr recommends her posts to me a lot, perhaps because we used to be mutuals/i have some of her posts liked and i cba to go through all my likes to unlike them. no, i don't wanna block her because i don't block people. as a matter of principle. i tried filtering her username out but i end up always clicking on the post anyway. i'm one nosy bitch, what can i say?

sometimes, she posts about my hyperfixation. something that is very dear and important to me. i don't know the reason why she's doing it because she knows nothing about it and doesn't care about it, but sometimes she makes throwaway comments "based on what she heard" (so, based on what I told her while we were still friends).

and for every time she does so that i end up seeing (happened like 5ish times now), i send one of her mutuals who would be uncomfortable interacting with her had they known about her views an anonymous ask about it. i don't leak anything personal that she'd told me or anything of the sort, i just link the accounts of people she reblogs from and some of her posts on the topic like "hey, take a look at that". each time, it results in the person blocking her and thanking me for telling them in a separate post.

on one hand, i'm technically doing the right thing, since these people hate interacting with people like her, and they just didn't browse her blog enough to know that that's the kind of person she is, even though it's all open source. they're grateful i told them, too.

on the other, i'm doing it for incredibly childish and selfish reasons. had i not seen her bring my hyperfixation up, i wouldn't have done that because i'm not mother theresa like that. but for that reason, it brings me immense satisfaction to do so. especially when she posts stuff like "omg, (name) blocked me... why" and has no clue why. in my mind, it's punishment for touching something that i consider My Thing. i kind of want her to someday understand what's going on, even if it's stupid and territorial of me. like that's what's gonna continue happening if you continue touching My Thing, not giving it the respect it deserves at that too. as i've said, she only regurgitates the stuff i told her because she doesn't care about it. i have a suspicion she's only doing it to piss me off in case i still visit her blog. no idea but it does piss me off. and doing what i described really calms me down.

so, aita?

[poppy-metal]

the boys not men……. thinking….. having the most traumatic break up of your life and deciding you have to reconnect with nature so you go to stay with your relative who owns a ranch out in the country. art works there as a farmhand, your uncles right hand man. worked there since he was a boy, grew into a man. a real fine man with a long strong body accustomed to hard labour, made by it and for it. he don’t think nothing of you when you first come in. city girl, spoiled, precious. hair too nice, nails too pretty. he don’t think much of city girls. you’re pretty. very. but pretty won’t pay the bills, and he’s not risking his lively hood on you. you’re miserable. inconsolable. you thought your ex was the love of your life. you don’t speak to anyone for the first few days, your uncle just happy to have you around, so art only catches glimpses of you off the veranda, wrapped in a shawl, looking forlorn like a lady in the old black and white pictures they play at the drive in. each time you lock eyes you turn with a flourish and go inside, like you were always a figment of his imagination and you were never really there. just a pretty ghost. as the days go by your uncle introduces the two of you, telling art to show you the ropes of what he does. good to keep busy he says. art holds out his long hand for you to shake, and you take it gingerly, but his fingers grip your hand tight enough that you grip his back and really shake. an electric chill runs through you. over the next few days, art tries to teach you things but you periodically break down, over something in some convoluted way relating back to your ex. arts surprisingly good at comforting you, but that’s not what he really wants to do. he wants to show you that men, real men, don’t make girls like you cry. from sadness at least.

RAHHHHHHH need country art on his knees eating my cunt the way none of those city boys do - long laps to your pussy like he's truly enjoying himself down there and he is - broad shoulders holding your legs apart on either side of him - he makes you watch the way his lips seal around your pussy - can fit the whole thing in his mouth - lips and all - makes you leak into mouth an embarrassing amount, but he just sucks it down. languidly and lazy like he has all the time in the world to spend between your legs - eating you until you're all puffy and swollen and your little clit is damn near ready to fall off she's so sore from his tongue running circles over her again and again -

you think you're done when he's made you cum twice down his throat - when the tears staining your cheeks aren't from your dumb ex back home but from how good art donaldsons mouth is - but he tells you that's just the beginning, sweetheart. licks you off his lips like you're honey and kisses your tremblin' thigh.

"nowhere near done with you," is what he says, dragging your legs off his work bench, until your ass is hanging off the edge. forces you to wrap them around his trim waist as he reaches down to unbuckle his belt. the heat in his eyes enough to melt your body right to liquid. "got something else this little pussy needs." and you've never been impressed by a cock until you'd seen his. flushed and hard in his hand - pink tipped and swollen. you think he had it about right, you do need him - how is it that he knows what you need better than you ever could? is that what makes him a man?

regardless - you're biting your lip and watching him feed himself inside you - your tender cunt sensitive but greedy to pull him in - "just like that." he groans when the head slips in, slick and easy - "look at you take it - you ever wanted a dick this much?"

and you have to be honest. you haven't. and so you shake your head and he groans - and you whine when he rocks even deeper - sinks more inside. the spread of him so thick inside you. fuller than you've ever been before. makes your toes curl right up.

"and you won't again." art tells you. "cause whenever you need it, you come to me. understand?"

this pussy is his to take care of from now on, he says, and you can do nothing but nod and let widen your legs to allow him even deeper inside yourself - ready to give him whatever he wants of you, if it means he'll keep making you feel this fucking good.

[lpixo]

Rosemary // (oneshot) <3 [Recording sexy times with Soldier boy!!] x Male reader. Nsfw!!

Dni if you’re a proshipper, identify as a woman, are underaged, or just want to hate.

However, criticism is welcome and encouraged, as so are request. Thank you!!

Notes: There is a surprising lack of male reader fics for soldier boy and I intend to increase the amount. Word count is 2047.

Summary and warnings: It’s the year 1981 and you’ve landed a job for public relations at Vought for non other than Americas favorite hero, Soldier Boy!! You’re only a few months in when you begin having sexual relations with your client.

or

Having sex with soldier boy through the eyes of a camera.

Please be wary of this containing sexual content in which will include failed orgasms, semi-public sex, taping sex, sexual assault, and an employee x employer relationship. Thank you!!

All photos are from Pinterest, all ideas are original.

The camera started facing the floor, stained tile taking up the scenery.

There’s chatter in the background, those who are speaking non visible.

Eventually, the cameras picked up, incorrectly spun to face the carrier, who licks their thumb to rub on the glass, not doing anything to aid in cleanliness.

“Don’t do that, you’ll mess it up,” someone mutters, a bed squeaking and the cameras being rubbed by a fist, correctly being cleaned. Not that matters as the quality is truly shit.

“I’ve never understood these things, too new age for me,” another voice comes, grunting as they position the camera, again incorrectly, to their face.

After taking a while to adjust, Soldier Boy is shown on screen, his brows are flexed together as he attempts to move the camera proportionally to his face. “You gotta turn it around,” the person from before sighs, Soldier Boy looking back with a confused frown.

The camera spun around, taking a while to adjust before making itself seen onto a naked body, clothes visibly thrown without care to the side.

“There we go,” Soldier Boy smirked, facing the camera towards you, bringing a hand down to your stomach. “Should put you infront of the big screen sweetheart.”

The camera gets up close to the side of your face as the camera man leans down to kiss you, nothing short of wet and filthy.

Three weeks ago, Soldier Boy had done it for the first time, although it was way less romantic, if you could call it that. There was high doubt he wanted anything more than a sexual relationship with you.

You’d had to berate him for leaving a guest appearance on a talk show to which he’d claimed was boring.

Trying to be stern was failing, however, as he’d been leisurely stroking his cock the entire time, never looking away from your eyes, except for when he was dragging his down your body.

“Bonus on getting to see you now, too, gorgeous.” He’d been dragging his foreskin back along his dick as he said this to you.

Of course, you had upmost respect for the man, so you attempted not to look, but it got sooo hard when he’d started saying your name in repeat, telling you to look.

Losing your job was so worth it but you couldn’t afford housing, let alone a meal without it, so you’d turned to leave. Ben had rose to his feet, grabbing your arm and bringing your hand to his cock, whispering about how much he wanted to feel your mouth around him. How excited it got him thinking about you every time he came down some bitches throat.

So when he’d kissed you, slow but sloppy, you’d sunk to your knees for him without much debate.

He leans back, camera still in hand, and tilts it back to reveal his lack of clothing, cock hard and leaking. He’d said you had that effect on him, last Thursday when he was humping your hand while you tried to explain why NDA’s were important to follow.

It’s held and slapped against your stomach, Soldier Boy joining you on the mattress, pulling you down as it sinks from his weight.

Your legs are spread and the camera brought to your hole, clearly already prepped, but still Soldier Boy slides a finger inside, testing its capabilities. You bite your lip, knowing the imprint of your teeth will surely be left there.

The cameras sideways now, showing both his fingering and the way your hand comes down to wrap a hand around both your cocks, eliciting a groan from Ben. Frotting was a personal favorite of his.

Its hard to see from the position but from the groans on the other man’s end, it’s clear your prioritizing his pleasure over yours, eventually letting your cock fall back on your stomach to focus on stroking him. Your other hand gathers clear fluid off camera, most likely spit, and brings your pointer and ring finger to stimulate his tip, rubbing in circular strokes.

Ben lets out a broken moan, his finger sliding out with a pop, hand coming up to stop you from continuing. He shuffles the cameras worn out strap off his knuckles, positioning it more towards your sweaty body than his.

“I wanna cum inside you, okay? Fill you up nice,” Soldier Boy pushes his hips back to position himself between your cheeks, one hand on your stomach right above your belly button and the other pressing your leg above your head. “Just how you like it, alright?”

You hum in response, slightly dazed, bringing your hand down to touch your cock in which he didn’t seem to mind. Soldier Boy squeezes his own, firmly gripping it and rubbing around your opening with his tip.

“Tell me how much you want it,” He groans, leaning down to lick at your lips, getting them wet. Your hands come to his shoulders, gripping them tight.

“So badly,” You whined, letting your eyes flutter shut.

When you’d left your office for the day, planing on doing nothing more than reading from afternoon to midnight, Ben had grabbed you. If you were being truthful, all he did was crook his fingers towards his direction to you, in which you willingly followed, but the moment you were in his reach, he threw you into bed, telling you to strip down.

He would be out of state for a few months, and he needed something to keep him sated. It wasn’t as if he wasn’t gonna fuck other people over there, but there wasn’t a hole as tight and wet as yours.

You just fit him so perfectly. He needed a recording.

Ben chuckled heavy, pouring a generous amount of lube on his cock, holding tight onto you and sliding home, grunting the whole way through.

When he finally bottomed out, he had no hesitation in beginning to thrust rapidly into you, ignoring your yelps and stops, to just wait a second for you to adjust. Even with prep it was still difficult to take all off him.

He’d only started being so aggressive a week ago, at first it was so kind and gentle, like he wanted you wholeheartedly. Now it was like you were a glory hole he occasionally saw as human.

Nevertheless, it felt so good to have something so big and long inside, never failing to hit your prostate and after a few seconds it’d stopped aching, so you laid your head down to enjoy.

He was consistent, rolling his hips in and out, never slowing to tease or catch his breath, yet he panted like an animal. Raged noises coming from his throat, wet plops in and out of your body.

For the next couple of minutes you stayed there and took it, the hand that had been so eager to touch yourself now being used to glue yourself to him, holding him close.

You’d curse yourself out for being desperate later, but right now he had pulled out, and you had to figure out why.

“Is something wrong?” Soldier Boy fucked his fist for a second, looking at your hole. He picked the camera back up, covering his face with it.

“Fucking gaping, just asking for more,” He’d growled, grabbing you harshly and flipping you onto your stomach, your brain barely having time to register the action before he was sliding into you again.

He continued his pace, speeding up slightly as he chased an orgasm.

Being on your back gave a nice friction to your dick against the satin, but it hurt when he forced you upwards, ass in the air.

His hand was trailing down your back, making its way upwards towards your hair, and you were sure he would have tugged on it if it weren’t for the telephone beside him ringing. He threw the camera to the side.

He stayed inside you, thrusting a little slower, dragging your body a little as he picked it up, “probably a noise complaint with how loud you’re being,” he grumbled, slapping your cheek, to which you whined, burying your face further into the sheets.

“Jesus Christ,” you heard him mutter, moving closer to the phone wirer, dragging you upwards. The voice on the other side was chipper, and you had no doubt it was gunpowder.

“I bet it is,” he replied, shutting the voice on the other line up for a while. Ben looked down at you, pulling on the skin of your asshole, snapping it back to put you down flat.

He moved the mouthpiece down, kissing alongside your neck, lovingly almost, you would say if you didn’t know the guy.

Gunpowder was still rambling on the other line, and you attempted to tune his voice out. Wasn’t exactly too sexy to hear a teenager talk while you’re being fucked.

Soldier Boy leaned back, plopping himself out of you. When you cried out, looking back to see what happened, he shushed you, running his finger alongside your bottom lip.

He rested himself against you, your back to his chest. After positioning the camera lower, he grabbed his cock, penetrating you again.

Enough pre began to gather on your tip, and you knew you were close, tasting the sheets as you lolled your tongue out, so close.

Soldier Boy began his quick thrust again, and fuck, it reminded you how strong this man was, how close you two were and how close you were to cumming.

With a long groan, Soldier Boy stalled inside you, throwing the phone onto the desk, Gunpowder still speaking, to grab the camera.

Three groans, three more thrust before he pulled out, showing the camera your ruined hole. You shivered as he brought a finger to scoop cum out, turning you back over and bringing it your lips.

You immediately wrapped your lips around his finger, feeling hot as we watched you suck, almost embarrassed as if you weren’t fully naked with his cock that was previously inside you centimeters away.

“Gonna make you cum now, okay?”

You nodded enthusiastically, opening your legs back up to him.

The slide in was slicker, and he fucked himself in faster than before, his previous load making slick sounds as he went in and out.

Resting the camera on your tummy, he moved to pick the phone back up, the sound of his balls slapping almost obnoxiously loud.

“Is someone there?” You heard gunpowder ask, not putting too much importance on him any more when fuckk you were so close.

“No one important,” Soldier Boy said as he looked you in the eye, his face not shifting a bit.

It hurt a little, but you pushed it to the side as it was expected.

You continued to make eye contact with him, licking and pouting to see if he’d get the memo.

He grinned and leaned down, but all so suddenly he snapped back up, his cock hitting your prostate perfectly, and you were cumming, moaning loudly.

“Really?” Ben asks, forgetting the task at hand, his rapid thrust becoming inconsistent due to his lack of care. He continues to talk as an orgasm rips through you, body shaking.

Ben feels the cum squirting out of your tip, becoming consious of what he had been doing. “Know what, I’ll call you back,” he says returning to you.

“What the fuck, man?” You squeal, orgasm continuing on, no friction in or either part of you.

“Shit, sorry,” he moaned, attempting to push out of your tightness. He bent down to kiss your stomach, then bringing his head up to your face to place a chaste kiss on your cheek.

“Next time, I’ll make it better for you, okay?” He says without explanation, retracing off camera back to where the video had begun, not allowing you to protest even a second.

For around twenty seconds you laid there, breathing heavily as to come down from what was a partial high. Your arm was moved behind the camera, and it faded to black with two beeps as it was turned off.

[readychilledwine]

Praise

✨️Kink Education with Elizabeth✨️

Be good for me and read this first. So pretty when you listen. You're always so good for me.

If that made you feel a little tingly, you may have a praise kink. A praise kink, or the positive affirmation kink, is characterized by, typically, a sub who finds sexual pleasure in positive phrases and words of affirmation. In this kink, phrase like "such a dirty whore," will be replaced with a softer one like, "such a good whore for me."

This is often seen as a gentler side if the BDSM community because it does still typically come with some form of a power exchange dynamic with what some people may call a soft dom and/or a pleasure dom with a sub who typically has some form of an insecurity that this type of play works well with. It is more about safety and comfort, not power and known dominance.

I will say, I had 7 requests for a variety of characters with this spot and ultimately picked Eris because I wanted to write him in a vulnerable position. However, I also think Cassian, Azriel, Tamlin, or Lucien would have made WONDERFUL subs for this as well. It is not one of my favorite kinks to write, so I hope I did this one justice.

As always, NSFW below the cut.

💕Peep the Valentines Day Bingo List Here💕

Eris Vanserra x Reader

Warnings - sub and dom dynamics, soft smut, oral *female receiving*, reader is a sex worker, this one is unedited by an outside source (dying like a boss bitch today), so I'm sure I'll find errors when I re-read it.

Eris whimpered, face burying deeper into your cunt as he lapped at your center.

“Such a good boy,” you moaned breathlessly. Your fingers began threading through his soft hair. “Keep going, baby. Just like that.”

Eris moaned against you, looking up at you with those desperate eyes. He'd had a shitty day. He'd spent hours being ridiculed and attacked verbally by Beron until there was almost nothing left of the heir emotionally.

Hence his presence in your pleasure halls, in your room specifically. On days like this, Eris craved nothing more than to be a whimpering mess below someone, and you were his someone. He just had to earn it first.

You smiled, head thrown back, grinding your cunt against his face, so close to the edge you could practically taste it. “Doing so good baby,” you panted and moaned his name as his tongue circled your clit. “Almost there. You want to be a good boy right? Want to make me cum?”

He whined against you, eyes hazy in submission and lust. He nodded slightly, eyes peering up from his beautiful long lashes. “Gods, you are so beautiful and all mine tonight, aren't you?” He hummed a soft blush creeping his cheeks.

A few more flicks of his tongue had you moaning his name, pulling his hair as you did. You rode his face through the High, mind lost in the once bit of pleasure you Were allowing yourself before it became about him and only him.

You let go of his hair, motioning for him to come up to you. You put one hand on his face, thumb stroking his freckled cheekbone. “Did so good, Eris,” he smiled and leaned into your hand.

His whole body had relaxed significantly, showing signs of comfort and trust. He was so beautiful, bare before you, scars littering his muscled body like paint helplessly thrown to a canvas. "May I have a kiss?" His voice was low, leaking the smallest hint of desperation.

"Such pretty manners," you licked his lips, forcing him back on to the bed. "How can I say no when you ask so nicely?"

You crawled on top of him, soaking core brushing his cock, as you went up to kiss him. His hands settled in your hips while yours rested on his chest. The kiss was deep and slow, leaking with the passion only lust could bring. His shoulders relaxed further, muscles becoming soft below you as he found his center.

He would never tell you, but you were his beacon in the darkness. A breeze on a summer day. You were water to his fire.

He didn't love you. The relationship wasn't about that and never would be. But Gods did he desire you. He needed you.

Eris gasped as you ground against his length, soaking him as you did to prepare him. You pulled off his lips, forehead resting against his. "Look at you," you purred, sitting up and grabbing his cock. He bucked into your grasp, eyes squeezing shut. "Is my pet about to beg?"

He whined, back arching as he did. "Please," need coated his tone like honey, leaking into every letter spoken. "Mistress, please. I need it. I'll be so good."

You kissed him again, sinking on to him at a slow, torturing pace. "Always so good for me, honey." You pushed down on his chest. "Relax and let me take care of you."

He nodded, mouth hung open in a silent moan. You raised yourself slightly and then lowered back down, testing his obedient behavior. He moaned again, hands staying on your hips until you gave him permission to explore.

You began riding and rocking on him, head falling back as you found the angle you wanted and needed. "So fucking good, baby," you moaned breathlessly, toes curling as you felt the head of him brush the spot you needed. "Gods, you are perfect. Fill me so well, Eris."

And he did. It was as if his cock for sculpted perfectly for you. It was the perfect length, the perfect thickness, and had ridges in all the right places. You could become lost in him if time allowed it, if the heir had allowed it.

But he had you for his pleasure. He paid for his needs.

You ignored the need to cum the best you could, watching his face contort in bliss. His back arching off the bed. You took one of his hands, bringing it to your tits and leaving it to explore those curves. You then took the other, bringing it to you clit.

You didn't have to even say anything. Eris had been so well trained as your sub he knew. He began to gently circle and rub that bundle of nerves. "Yes," you threw your head back, feeling him twitch inside of you. "Just like that, Eris. So good. So fucking good. You feel incredible, honey."

The heir moaned loudly below you, his hand on your breast tweaking your left nipple while the other played to match the speed of your bounces.

"I love the way you touch me, how you feel," you were panting, a silent prayer going to the Mother wishing this would never end. "I'm going to cum if you keep doing that."

It was the encouragement he needed to press a little harder, both of you moaning each other's names. "How did I get so fucking lucky?" You moved a hand to his throat, holding it lightly. "I have such a beautiful male below me who always knows just what I need."

Eris's eyes squeezed shut again, the amber color almost completely blown out with lust. "May I cum?" His voice was a whimper of pleasure. "Mistress, please, I need to cum."

"You've done so well. Go ahead, baby. Cum for me." The moan Eris released was heavenly. The feeling of his hot cum triggered your own orgasm, but you couldn't help to praise him through his high. Moaning how good it was, how well he did, how perfect his body felt.

You panted once you two came down from that peak. "You look so beautiful begging below me. I will never get tired of the slight of it."

Eris smiled widely, arrogance returning to him. "Eventually, we will switch roles," his hands ran to your breasts, squeezing them. "And when we do, I will make sure to tell you how beautiful you look when you're cock drunk for me."

You leaned down, kissing him deeply. "I look forward to it, my lord."

General Taglist:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanager @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho

@mariahoedt @rinalouu

Valentines Day Taglist:

@sfhsgrad-blog @amara-moonlight @eternallyelvish @novaksangel @teenageeggscissorslawyer @thisblogisaboutabook @amygdtjhddzvb

[woodspr1te]

possessive!miles quaritch headcanons

summary: miles quaritch often makes his claim on you known… not that you really mind

warning: (poorly done) nsfw content ahead. also written with x afab!reader in mind, and includes several afab terms. vague? angst for like 3 seconds.

this man has lost everything, so when it comes to you??? he’s not taking any chances

constantly says something about you being his, even in the most normal of conversations....

lyle’s bothering you? he’s promptly told off with a “wainfleet. leave my woman alone.” 

AND GOD FORBID ANYONE EVER MAKES A COMMENT TOWARDS YOU 

the immediate eyebrow crease when he hears it. his ears tilt down, and flatten against his head. he grips the person’s shoulder as tight as possible, practically crushing it. his smile is almost lethal by itself with the amount of fang it shows, as he leans closer to them. “say another word about my girl again, and i’ll make sure any na’vi arrows are the least of your worries” 

keeps you basically pressed against him at all times. hands on your waist, gripping your ass, entangling your fingers in his... this list is endless

his favorite thing to do of all time is to press himself against you whenever you’re doing something. burying his face into your neck and nuzzling as close as he can while he breathes in your scent

he also enjoys grinding his hips against you while he presses gentle kisses to the back of your neck, hoping to get some attention

needy needy NEEDY man. i said what i said

he’s so desperate 24/7 honestly this man is a slut for you

the amount of times you’ve come back to your home with miles’s pants on the floor and him fucking his fist is unreal

you’ll watch from the doorway as he fists his cock, his tip an angry purple hue with precum leaking out

he’s already panting, making full eye contact as he mumbles out “get your ass over here so i can cum on those pretty tits, baby”

he has a thing for marking you with his cum

you’re lucky if you leave the room without smelling like sex for the next year, body aching from the number he does on you

has a thing for scenting you too. literally will rub his head and neck all over your body to cover you in his scent so others know you’re spoken for.

his recom body goes through heat? even worse. you’re literally unable to be seen for a week, and he’s constantly pumping you full of his cum

he won’t let you get up for a while after you both finish. his arms are caging you in tight as he presses butterfly kisses to your shoulder, sucking your skin lightly and nipping so it’ll bruise

he marks you UPPPPPPP like to the max

nothing can ever cover them up. and if you wear na’vi clothing? good luck.

your hips have faint fingertip marks all the time. it’s practically part of your skin now from how hard he grips them when bouncing you on his dick

HICKEYS. he has the mind of a teenage boy sometimes okay and all he cares about is everyone seeing how good you let him make you feel

bite marks. miles puts those teeth to use, okay. they litter the inside of your thighs and hip bones. he enjoys watching you squirm as he marks you up, especially when he’s taking his time eating you out

you cum on his fingers once when he bites your hip? he’ll do it every time from then on

prides himself on how good he makes you feel. when he’s fucking you from the back and you’re crying out for him, he’ll pull you up against his chest, wrapping his arm around you. then, he’ll make you tell him how good it feels or you don’t get to cum

you comply?? he’ll make you do it over and over. “who’s my good little slut?” “you like the way i make you feel? tell me how good this dick is.” “such a good girl, my good girl.” “nobody else is ever gonna give you this. only i can fuck you like this, right princess?”

YOU’RE A BRAT??? good luck. he will make you beg and then overstim you to eywa and back. “only good girls get to finish. you think you’ve been my good girl?” “tell me you’re mine and i’ll think about letting you cum.” “who does this pussy belong to? that’s fucking right. me. say it.”

fucks you in front of mirrors so you can see how well he fits inside you. loves to fuck you with your hands pressed against the glass as he grips your throat and murmurs “you see that sloppy little cunt? look at how perfect it fits around me. look at how good you take my cum”

has a big thing for cockwarming and aftercare cuz he really loves you. runs his hands up and down your body, kissing your head as he mumbles how proud you made him and how you’re his sweet girl. makes sure to press all of his cum back into you, and presses a little bit down on your clit every time he does just to be a fucking tease.

he just wants to know you’ll love him for the rest of time and that he’s yours. as much as he loves hearing you say you’re his, he needs to know he belongs to you as well

you even jokingly tell him he’s your big, strong mate? he’s literally purring, tail swishing back and forth with happiness.

has such a strong urge to protect you. places his body in front of yours when there’s a suspicious noise. won’t let you out of his sight for a second.

miles LOVESSSSS when you seem like you need him. can’t sleep and you wake him up for comfort?

at first, he seems a little grumpy, but the moment he realizes it’s you his voice turns soft. “sweetheart… baby, what’s wrong? c’mere, i’ve got you. nothing’s gonna touch my girl, not while i’m here”

he’s not possessive in a “jealous of every man” kind of way. although he wouldn’t like the way some people look at you, it’s about you choosing to leave him/abandoning him more than anything

he’s lost so much already. his human self, his dignity, his son, the war…. but losing you would truly break him

ESPECIALLY if you are na’vi. not even recom. he doesn’t want your clan to steal you back, can’t let you betray him

it would terrify him if you both fought and you brought up leaving. perhaps it would be about the actions of specops or the rda’s actions. regardless, your cry of “i can’t fucking do this anymore, miles” stops him dead in his tracks

his throat feels like it’s closing. he has barely breathed in 10 seconds, and the silence between you both is deafening

you shook your head, turning away from him. “miles… i love you, but i can’t-”

“don’t fucking go. you promised you’re mine.” he interrupts you almost immediately, and he’s a lot closer than you remembered. he sounds broken, almost wounded

you swallow, looking down as you take his hands in yours. “my miles…”

he interrupts you again, pressing his forehead against yours. “you love me? then stay, please. we can figure it out, baby. we’re mates, right? m’not stupid, i know what it did when we made tsaheylu. i chose you forever, so choose me.”

he’s whipped, mkay. literally would rather saw his own tail off then hear you say you’re leaving him

lowkey freaks out if you ever get injured. he keeps a very calm facade, and perhaps even scolds you with a light “c’mon baby, what the hell were you thinking” but he’s secretly so happy you’re gonna be okay

shows you off at ANY AND EVERY possible chance

you walk in a room? “there she is! been looking all over for you, baby.”

hyper-aware of your reactions. he notices you’ve favoring one kind of fruit more, and all the suddenly he’s gathered 20 of them for your consumption

prides himself on being the best mate possible for you, and he’s going to make sure you know it too

[ausssbutlershortstories]

Hi, hello, how you doing? You can call me drac, I'm not new to Austin's fandom but I am new to sharing and expressing my opinion about his career and relationship.

I've seen everyone's side. Looked at both arguments. Looked at the relationship myself. And I honestly believe Austin and Kaia are in a pr relationship.

Now before the shippers jump on me with their attacks... I don't hate Kaia. I don't speak hate about her. I don't tear down her talents, or as some say lack of, I don't even comment on her personally. That's how little she matters to me. Without Austin I wouldn't have even known who she was. I barely knew who her mother was.

That being said, I don't think she is what she claims to be. Her personality, from what I've seen in trying to get to know her, changed based on those she surrounded with. When she was with Pete Davidson she was putting on a front of being the wild girl. And now with Austin she's trying to match his shy, humble, intellectual personality. I wanna know who she is behind the mask. I wanna know what her personality really is like. Not what she thinks she needs to be.

As for her and Austin... Nothing really makes sense. In the few years they've been together he's barely mentioned her in interviews unless put on the spot. Ive only seen her at one of his family functions and that was the birthday party for Ashley's daughter. I haven't seen her hang out with his friends, family, or co stars. Haven't seen him with her co stars. When he's with her every picture seems like they are just walking quietly and wish they were somewhere else.

And please explain how this man goes all over the world and hardly gets papped or fans leak photos, but we get multiple pictures of them doing stuff. He went on a whole ass road trip with friends and no one spotted him but he goes to a private resort with her family and he's papped every day there, including in their private pool?

And if we wanna ignore that then tell me why he has no problem being happy and present with everyone he comes across. Interviewers, fans, other celebs but we don't get that level of connection with her. Why can he smile and laugh and hug his co stars, look like he's in love with every man and woman he talks to, but looks like he's fighting with her and giving her the silent treatment?

Before it was confirmed that Dua and Callum were together she walked the red carpet for the mota premiere. He actively looked for her at the baftas when on the red carpet. If Kaia is as important to Austin as the shippers claim why wasn't she invited to any of his events to walk with him. Not be in the background or let in after those that were important get let in. No, why didn't he take the woman he loves to stand at his side at awards and premiers? He did it with Vanessa. Why when he's clearly on break but she has events does he not go with her? He did with Vanessa. He says his love language is touch and words of affirmation... So why does he barely hold her hand, kiss her, hug her, show he wants and loves her? He did with Vanessa.

You cannot tell me that he completely changed how he is in a relationship to go from openly showing love and affection to his partner to cold and detached to his next. Even if he didn't mention Vanessa by name he still talked about his girlfriend or his partner when speaking in interviews but now he doesn't.

Whether they want to admit it or not, something is off about this relationship. How did they meet, how did they start dating? Who introduced them? He went from making out in the street with Lilly rose depp to in a committed relationship pretty quick. Btw, how does he show that level of horniess with Lilly but can't even show an ounce of attraction to his girlfriend?

Now my question to shippers and those who feel the need to go to war... Why? What do you get out of it? Why do you seek out people who differ from your opinion to attack and argue? Aren't you exhausted? If tomorrow you were exposed for the hate and venom you spew, if it was sent to every person you love and care about including Kaia and Austin, would you stand proud and claim it? If every person you send anonymous hate to was to turn off the feature would you still send it? Doesn't the constant fights and arguments and back and forth weigh on your mental health? Are you incapable of a civil conversation, incapable of agree to disagree situations?

I remember the phrase, curate your online experience, everyday when I see stuff I don't like or agree with. I don't seek it out but sometimes it crosses my dash. Now maybe it's cause I'm older, I've been through the crazy hormonal stages already that I can do this and move on with my day, but I block what I don't want to see. I block the blog or filter the tags. Now I'm gonna admit that I'm not a huge t.swift fan. She just doesn't do anything for me. But I follow a lot of people who do like her. I'd say 15% of their content is t swift related. Instead of fighting with them, or sending anonymous messages I filter the tags they commonly use for her content so I don't have to see it.

Sorry for the long post and the rant, it probably doesn't make sense, but I wanted to share. Thank you. I hope you and all others that read this have a good day.

Oh wow I really like this take ! You said some great things and very unbiased and civil.

I think shippers like I said seek out blogs like mine and others because they to know something is low key off with this relationship. I think they to some degree see what some of us on this side see A lot of them also live through Kaia…so pointing out weird shit in this relationship offends them as if they were her & the one dating Austin. That’s why they go to way so badly.

I find it strange that Austin barely mentions Kaia but has told the blue christmas story more than once and mentioned vanessa multiple times over the course of them being broken up. He even spoke about their trip to Italy in a podcast…but with Kaia…nothing. With Vanessa no one has to put him on the spot he brings up her himself.

I wish most of the shippers like you. I made a post about how their a small handful I have met who know how I feel but do not harass and bitch about my opinion. If they see something off being said about Kaia they keep it moving and let people be.

The relationship is off and I know it isn’t me and others just thinking this because we aren’t fans of Kaia. Even if I was a shipper I would still think shit is fucking weird.

[creadigol]

I wanted to write a civilian story and this is what came out of my brain. I hope y’all like!

Warnings: Mentions of a violent encounter with a pretty creepy bad guy. 

The body floated, bobbed one might say, aimlessly in the expensive botanical garden’s pond. With the amount of algae in the water it was a wonder Civilian had seen the thing at all, let alone recognize the figure. 

But recognize the figure they did… and it made the horrific sight all the more terrifying. 

Civilian bit back a scream as the bloated body floated closer to them. 

Bloated…that meant the body had been in there for at least a day right? At least that’s what all those cop shows said…Civilian was a historian, not a doctor…oh god it was getting closer!

Civilian clutched their messenger bag close to their chest and backed away from the pond. Five minutes…five minutes was all it took to scar them for life. Five minutes to change everything Civilian thought they knew about their gracious hosts at the historic hotel. 

God, they were such a fool. 

They had their suspicions. Of course they did, but when  the opportunity came to stay at the very place they had spent years researching came up…there was no question. They had a sabbatical coming up anyway, where better to have it than on the actual location? 

But now…

The body was face down, but it was no question who it was, and who had done this. Villain had been threatening the Senator for months, it was all over the news. But how did Villain know the Senator was staying in this specific hotel in England? Hell, why was Civilian’s timing so terrible?! 

There was a rustling in the bushes to their right. Civilian whipped their head around hoping against hope that the sound was the normal squirrel or bird one would find in a botanical garden. 

The rustling stopping as soon as Civilian looked over. They caught a glimpse of something metallic reflecting the sun…so, not an animal then.

Oh, god. Oh, god. Oh, god. 

Maybe Civilian could play it off as if they saw nothing? Just glance away and find the path back to the hotel where there was a cell signal and they could call for help. That was good, now they just needed to look away.

 Shit, why were they so frozen? 

They slowly edged backwards towards the tan gravel path. Civilian couldn’t help but keep looking at the bush, waiting for whoever was in there to strike. As soon as they had made it three steps a deep voice rang out from the shrubbery,

“Got somewhere to be? You only just got here.” 

Civilian turned and ran. 

They ran faster than they ever had in their life. Their feet pounded on the gravel with as much force as their heart pounded against their rib cage. In their hast they couldn’t find it in their throat to scream for help. Help from someone, anyone. 

Their running wasn’t fast enough. 

A hand grabbed the back of their messenger bag and yanked them back. Civilian choked on air as their back viciously hit the ground. A knee was on their chest and a hand over their mouth as soon as their body was down. 

“Now, now love. All I need is a little chat about what you just saw. No need to be so on edge.” The man on top of them wore a dark mask and his leather gloves smelled against Civilian’s face. The man’s silver watch periodically glinted the reflection of the sun with each spasm Civilian experienced.

They frantically tried to claw the hand off their mouth, tears already leaking from their eyes, and they kicked their legs out trying to dislodge the attacker. Their struggle, though, quickly stopped as the other hand yanked their head back by their hair at an angle which promised death if they struggled too hard. 

“None of that now,” the low voice said. A voice that Civilian did not recognize. “I don’t want to kill you yet. There’s still some things I need from you.” 

Yet.

Yet. 

The word made new panicked tears come to civilian’s eyes. Their sobs were stifled by the rank leather that gripped tighter around their mouth. 

“That’s a good one. Now, tell me, did you tell anyone where you were headed on this fine morning?” 

Civilian froze. Wide eyes staring at the two eye holes the mask provided. What should they say? What would buy them more time? They could lie and say they had told someone they were going for a walk…but would that put someone else in danger? The moment the attacker knew Civilian was alone with no travel companion they would break their neck or drown them in the pond like the senator, they were sure…

“I can tell you didn’t,” the mask lifted a bit at the edges indicating a smile beneath. “Your eyes say it all. No one knows you’re out here then, hm?” 

Civilian tried once more to push the man off, but his grip only tightened and he leaned more of his weight on his knee. Civilian’s chest ached. 

“That’s a yes. You should never play poker my friend. You have every tell in the book.” 

Civilian only cried more. 

“You and the Senator were getting pretty close last night. Anything he told you that you wish to share?” 

Pretty close? Civilian had only spoken to him for part of the evening about the hotel’s architecture. The senator had found it fascinating that Civilian could tell what year each part of the hotel was built based on the shape of the windows. It was nothing special…but that meant this masked man was at the party last night, watching them. 

Civilian was going to throw up. 

The hand eased a bit off their mouth, now just hovering over. Civilian’s choked sobs immediately sounded. 

“Come on now, just tell me what you know and this will go as smoothly as I can make it. That’s quite nice of me, isn’t it?” 

“I…” Civilian stuttered through the panic, “I…don’t know what you mean.” 

“Of course you do,” The hand gripping their hair pulled even more, causing Civilian to choke on a gasp. “I know you’re a smart one. You’ve seen the news. Did the Senator tell you anything about making a deal?” 

What? What did that even mean? They spoke about windows for fucks sake!

“No…no…we were…” They huffed out a sob that they couldn’t hold back. 

“You were what?” The hand that hovered over their mouth now clamped on their throat. Just tight enough to cause pain. 

“Windows,” Civilian cried. “We were talking about the windows.” 

“Windows?” The man questioned. 

“I…you can tell a lot about a building through its windows…I’m writing about the hotel…” 

The man interrupted them with a laugh. The hand on their hair loosened and Civilain’s head was no longer forced back. 

“Windows,” the man chuckled. “Fucking windows…and here I was worried.” 

The hand started to card through their hair in an oddly intimate gesture. 

“Sorry mate,” said the man with nonchalance. “Wrong place, wrong time I guess. Pity too, you’re sorta cute.” 

The hand on their throat suddenly clasped and Civilain’s eyes blew wide as the man leaned down and placed both hands on their neck to squeeze. 

The man put his weight onto his knee and arms, effectively cutting off all air and making any of Civilian’s struggling pointless. Still, they clawed at the hands and kicked their feet, feeling the blood rush to their head. 

No, they thought at black spots appeared before their eyes. Please, god, no.

“It’ll be over soon, love.” The man’s voice barely registered. 

Civilian felt their hands go numb and their kicking stopped as their energy drained like a bath with the stopper pulled out. 

“Yeah, it will.” 

A slash and the pressure on their neck and chest was gone. Civilian coughed and gasped as air flooded their body. 

From the corner of their eye they could make out two dark shapes struggling beside them, but through the coughing and the tears they couldn’t make out much. 

Suddenly they felt themselves being picked up and thrown over a shoulder. They make a sound of protest, despite their damaged throat. 

“Hang on, mate. I’ll get you somewhere safe.” 

Civilian knew that voice. They knew it, but their battered body could do nothing to protest. 

Civilian could only hang off the broad shoulder as Villain swept them deeper into the garden. 

[spacechild-glitchypix]

A lot of people are making a lot of public statements considering this is a situation that has pretty much nothing to do with them.

Look, I'm usually one to be pretty civil on conversations like this in public because I generally feel like people are less likely to listen when you're angry and shouting but I'm also acutely aware that none of you are really paying any attention. You're glossing over statements, you're intentionally reading Rose's statements and apologies in bad faith. If you aren't going to have the good graces to truly listen to either Kab or Rose then, respectfully, back away. You're not contributing anything positive to the conversation, you're talking in circles about points already being addressed and claiming they aren't because the answer doesn't suit your narrative

You can think Rose's comments made in the privacy of his own server are unprofessional until the cows come home but, frankly, his professionalism isn't any of your concern unless you're employing him. And, as for the biphobia comments, I'll speak as someone who was literally in those discord screenshots.

The stuff said in Marshie's post is true but, on a larger scale, this was a common discussion in this server. It wasn't started by Rose, it certainly didn't end with Rose, this was an entire server of queer people who were just sick of the heteronormative way some people would develop their MCs. And if you took that as a personal attack then I apologise but I can't help you with your own feelings. We never expected this to reach public eyes, none of us would've actually said this to a person's face about their own MCs. We're not bullies, our words were posted in a public setting without our permission, the fact you people seemed to have missed that (or even claimed that we apparently weren't private enough because somehow we were supposed to just know one of our members was leaking screenshots of our conversations which is a stance I have seen at least one person take) is honestly very telling.

No one should be expected to be 100% polite or civil in their own spaces (this also includes Rose's blog, before one of you fires blossoming-attorney's post at me), we're allowed to have areas where we can speak our own grievance with friends and be hyperbolic without having to worry about people taking our works out of that space to be put completely on blast to the public. Have none of you people ever complained about a boss before???

But more importantly than that, I just think the level of tone-policing and dogpiling and harassment being leveled at one of my friends over a racist smear campaign is fucking appalling. I don't care if you do not think this is racist because race wasn't brought up, if this wasn't racism then why is Rose the only person you people have thought to go after. Why is he the only person that was named, why did no one try to find anyone else in those screenshots.

This fandom is, quite frankly, a racist cesspit, the people who started this harassment campaign by publiclly posting this bullshit on a throwaway reddit account are scum, the people who pushed it without any sort of critical thinking should be deeply ashamed of themselves and every major artist in the community making a statement as to their stance on this whole ordeal needs to back off

This community has destroyed an incredibly important space where me and many others made a number of good friends for nearly a year over the adrenaline rush of jumping on a bandwagon. You've hurt one of my good friends and tried to get him fired from his job to further a racist smear campaign because you didn't like that he's an outspoken black person.

I hope you're fucking proud of yourselves

[bibibbon]

MHA 412 leaks (rant)

Iam not a fan of the leaks I really am not because wtf is going on?!?!?!

1) THIS !!! THIS WAS ONE OF THE WORST THINGS TO COME OUT OF THE FLIPPING MANGA. What the actual hell like there is no izuku introspection and also I get the idea that's being displayed here but it was done horribly in my opinion. It also doesn't make sense on applying this ideology to shigaraki considering that he literally told shigaraki he could never forgive him because of what he did to Eraserhead.

Look not giving up on the idea of people being able to change could be a good thing and idea that could be explained through midoriyas character and making him a symbol of hope. However, that doesn't excuse the horrible stuff going on between bakugo and izukus dynamic. Izuku has clearly been shown having negative feelings towards bakugo (as he should) and we should of seen those negative feelings explored this to me feels like an utter BS of an excuse to be like no izuku is just naturally a living saint which IS ALSO UTTER BS. We have seen izuku get mad and fight like a lunatic a whole bunch and now Iam supposed to believe that izuku can never feel a bad or negative emotion towards anyone because of this?!?!!?!?! The bakugo redemption fails due to many things but the main thing is the lack of izukus thought. about it.

Here is the thing YOU CAN FEEL NEGATIVE EMOTIONS AND HATE SOMEONE BUT STILL HAVE HOPE THAT THEY CAN CHANGE AND BECOME A BETTER PERSON but horikoshi does this to make bakugo look better?!?!? Why?!?!

2) ALSO THIS?!?!?!!

Wdym izuku has to give up the thing that he had to gain so he can win?!?! How is he gonna win is horikoshi going to make this a vestiges fighting eachother type of bs whole izuku defends himself quirkless somehow ??!?!??!??! Also why is it that he is THE ONLY CHARACTER WHO IS GETTING CONCEQUENCES?!?! Like you have tokoyami and hawks who lost their quirks but gained it back because AFO died so why not ( NO CONCEQUENCES) and then you have bakugo who LITERALLY CAME BACK FROM THE DEAD (no concequences) the only real concequences there were are some injuries then and there but that's it nothing big for the major and fan loved characters happend they're all alive and fighting.

If the point was that izuku could of become a hero with no quirk then shouldn't if he just become a quirkless hero instead of suffering getting a Quirk more suffering more suffering losing a quirk and more suffering!?!?

3) Also don't even get me started on how dirty shigarakis character is being done this guy wants to destroy stuff for fun not because he believes that the only way to rebuild a society suitable for him and his friends is by destruction or another ideology no he is just a psycho who wants revenge against THE WRONG PERSON!!!!!

4) wasted potential. IZUKUS LACK OF INTROSPECTION AND POV MADE THIS HORRIBLE. like it could of been good but it fell off horribly due to the fact that he didn't have any development and he is just jumping to ideologies. I think this ideology suits him but in theory he hasn't developed enough for him to have it in the first place. Also the lack of pov also makes us DOWNPLAY HIS BATTLE Strategy AND THE THINGS HE IS DOING. LIKE YALL AREN'T DEEPING THAT HE CANT BREATHE THIS GUY MAY DIE OR GET SEVERE BRAIN DAMAGE BUT IS STILL FIGHTING LIKE A MADMAN and I don't see people talking about it all Iam seeing is "oh bakugo parallel hehe bs". Horikoshi then goes on to show us panels of izuku training and you can tell there isn't a lot because NO ACADEMIA ARC AND BAD PACING OF STORY. The idea of him destroying society's pain rug could of been cool but again not enough pov or introspection or anything

5) WHY IS STAR AND STRIPES HERE?!?!?!! Like did shigaraki steal her quirk because I forgot and if he did then why hasn't he killed izuku using her quirk that's so stupid. Horikoshi has told us and shown us that shigaraki wants death and destruction. He ruined shigaraki and is he now downplaying his intelligence or something or is this some plot hole because why is she here and why isn't her quirk being utilised also what happend to shigaraki using danger sense?!?!! Like I swear that stuff was active last chapter so what happend now can the vestiges just deny and not give him access or something but if that's the thing he can freely use ragdolls quirk.

ALSO SHIG AND IZUKU ARENT THAT WELL DEVELOPED AND ONLY HAVE PARALLELS THROWN AROUND WITH NO INTERACTIONS SO HOW IS THIS GONNA WORK

[jess-the-vampire]

Guys, I Think The Leaks Are Fakes Made By The Owl House Crew

yes yes i know, right now that might be a WILD ass claim to make but i want those who are reading this to hear me out and read this whole post, because I've been chatting with friends since these leaks happened and i think there’s reason to suspect we might be getting punked here.

And i say this fully accepting there is a chance i could be entirely wrong about this and they could be real, but I think there’s some reason to doubt the episode actually was leaked to the internet.

Now to get those who need it up to speed, the first of the three specials for toh s3 “Thanks to Them” is airing this Saturday on the 15th, it’s a big 45 minute episode that takes place on earth in Luz’s town of Gravesfield. There was a comic con panel about it a few days ago were some fans got to see some sneak peaks, it was all over the internet and everything.

But the day after, some images floated around, 6 of them mainly, claiming to be spoilers from this episode and everyone went WILD with anger, rightfully so, this huge ass episode got leaked to the internet and spoiled for everyone? Man what a way to ruin a week huh?

Well i thought the same for awhile too, but i’ve had some time to cool down and talk to others and guys....something isn’t right about this whole situation.

Below i’m gonna explain why this whole situation feels REALLY off and why I think there might be a chance that not only did the episode NOT leak, but the leaks were fabricated by the crew itself.

And just to be safe, i will do so without showing said leaks, nor will i tell you exactly what’s in them.

Those who saw them will understand, but for those lucky enough to avoid them, i’ll give you an idea of what about them makes me and others suspect something isn’t right.

Now i’ve had episode leaks before in fandoms, it’s nothing new, they can happen to any fanbase due to issues with scheduling, or mishandling, or episodes being put up online and some people get to it fast.

So the idea of this happening isn’t odd.

However, i raise you this, because i found this to be REALLY Strange.

How come it’s only these 6 images?

Remember when ST and EE were shown privately to the TOH discord by crew members as a treat before they aired? Remember how afterwards there was a ton of images about lumity blushing and amity’s parents?

We were told the ENTIRE EPISODE was not only LEAKED, but put ONLINE. 

And yet all i and anyone else have seen are these images and people claiming they’re real, and nothing else.

There were gifs, clips, dozens of frames from willow’s dad’s holding hop pop books to the “That’s rough buddy”. There was so much about these episodes the moment the internet found them.

So let me get this straight? Those episodes the moment the fandom gets them get dozens of gifs, clips, drives to watch them, screenshots, memes, and fanart.....meanwhile this HUGE 45 MINUTE EPISODE has nothing but these specific 6 images?

I’ve never seen anything besides these images floating around when it comes to the the claim the episode was put out, there are no clips, no audio, no gifs, no dialogue being mentioned, nothing.

Is that not strange? 

Don’t you guys think if the entire episode was leaked we’d see more then these specific images? Don’t you think we’d see MORE then these shots?

 Like this is a big episode, and there is nothing else worth spoiling? Nothing about the wittebanes? lumity? Huntlow? any other big reveals? You’d think if the episode was revealed those would be leaked too right? 

Isn’t it so odd that these are the only leaks out there? if there’s video, why doesn’t it seem to be posted anywhere? Heck, where is the video that shows off what’s happening in the leaks with the biggest spoilers?

it’s also strange how this got “Leaked” over a week before the episode comes out, because how in the heck would someone get access to the full episode THAT early? When episodes usually leak, if they aren’t shown privately, it’s either the day before or because of a scheduling error. 

So that also seems odd.

There’s also this to consider, the content of the images themselves.

I won’t go into detail obviously, but you know what i found so off-putting? That the images in question proved a specific theory, proved a few theories and predictions people were floating around the fanbase...theories that aren’t something that’s strongly supported by any current evidence or even liked by quite a few people.

The last images are so....out of nowhere too. They’re sequential enough that they could tell a story of what happened without context and some of them are DEFINTENLY SHOCKING.

But the first two, they have nothing to do with the context of those last 4, so why did they get leaked? they reveal nothing, they’re also things we get to see in the promos that just were released.

Except, if you consider they were “Leaked” to make these leaks seem more real.

Don’t you think it’s odd two of the leaks are things that ended up in the promo that showed up later that day? i mean, what are the CHANCES? 

But if you were on the crew, and you wanted the fans to buy into the leaks, you WOULD pair up the fakes with real ass images the fans would see later that day wouldn’t you?

It’s so oddly deliberate.

You would also make leaks that would support big theories and have shock value so people were bound to spread them more. Which is EXACTLY what these ones are.

And if you’re on the crew, you know what the characters are wearing, so even easier to make them look real, because no matter what clips are shown in any disney promos or commercials they will appear to line up with the leaks.

There’s also other off stuff, like how one image is VERY oddly cropped compared to the others, or some character inconsistencies, some even seemingly off model.

“But the 6 minutes in HD are a thing-”

yeah and if someone wanted to fool the fanbase into thinking these leaks were real they WOULD release the 6 minutes alongside it to claim the episode had to be out.

The thing is, the 6 minutes have already been leaked to the fanbase from the nycc panel to the entire fanbase the moment it ended, it’s not as if putting the hd version out there will spoil anything because everyone already basically saw it.

And again, if the episode is OUT, why is that the ONLY footage that appears to have been posted anywhere? The footage we the fans already know about and saw?

And i wanna send off the rest of the suspicious details about these leaks by talking about the crew.

The crew, has been DEAD SILENT about these leaks, they have not said a word about these specific ones, not even to warn fans about them or how upset they are or anything. 

So....

Which is not what they usually do, they have warned fans before, so why not warn us about these supposed BIG leaks about a big episode?

And ok, maybe they don’t wanna make a fuss about them, fair enough, but there’s something else.

Rebecca Rose, who works on this show, liked this tweet just recently.

Now for those who don’t know, Alex Hirsh (Voice of King and Hooty) is the creator of Gravity Falls, another Disney Cartoon. That cartoon is infamous for it’s mysteries and secrets, and Alex, actually made a fake leak about a major spoiler to troll the entire fanbase.

He made this tweet after it successfully tricked the fans.

Now not only does he work on this show too, but you wanna know where these “Leaks” started out? 4chan and reddit.

Same place his did.

What are the chances?

What are the chances a crew members likes this old tweet about his stunt NOW of all times? When the episode has supposedly been leaked?

Now would it suck to assume the entire fanbase got fooled into thinking the episode was leaked and all the posts made about shaming the leakers were completely for nothing?

Oh yeah.

For the crew to pull this stunt and make us all look like doofuses would be insane.

But i think there’s reason to find this whole situation off and i hope this post makes you all reconsider some details you might not of considered before. Maybe we were leaked, maybe this is all a huge coincidence.

But if you ask me.

This is all too fishy for my liking.

[infinite-orangepeel]

✨STEDDIE FICLET: BOYS WILL BE BOYS

!! masturbation, general horny energy/vibe (lol), discovering sexuality !!

steve and eddie arguing over who has the bigger dick. they’re just friends. they’ve never seen each other naked.

steve and eddie getting out the ruler to compare dick sizes.

it’s a game. it’s something to play. it’s something to pass the time.

boys will be boys.

steve and eddie, joking around, fumbling to get their pants around their thighs, excited by the competitive air between them. quipping. ruffling each others feathers. making light in the dead of winter.

steve and eddie falling silent.

steve’s breath hitching.

eddie’s eyes widening.

flushed red of arousal rushing to their cheeks as everything becomes a bit too real.

steve gulping.

eddie watching the pitiful up and down movement of his adam’s apple. bobbing beautifully under all those pretty moles on his decadent throat.

eddie hardening. stiffening up rapidly because steve’s standing there—so close—squirming around and whimpering like a slut.

“it happens,” steve says as if it really does, “ ‘s nothing to be ashamed of. c’mon. i’ll measure you, if you measure me.”

eddie nodding, barking a laugh, choking on something heavy.

tonguing the sharp edge of his teeth to counteract and distract from the thrumming pleasure—the threat his hips pose to buck up into the warm grasp of steve’s hand circling around his leaking tip.

steve and eddie lining up their cocks, because it’s ‘easier to tell.’

numbers are too difficult.

numbers are useless.

why use numbers when they have four hands between them to compare and stroke over their lengths?

gentle fingers to dip down and cup each others balls like something precious to behold. tickling. smiling.

careful not to make eye contact. careful not to make it real.

steve and eddie groaning like untamed beasts when they press their aching dicks together. skin to skin.

wet. slippery. burning up with forbidden fever. the urge to close every existing gap is palpable.

so easy to break.

so easy to shatter.

“guess we’re about the same size. funny. who would’ve thought?”

eddie plays the fool. plays the whole thing off as a joke. tears his eyes away but doesn’t miss the opportunity to rub a flat palm over both of their cockheads before retreating like the coward he believes himself to be.

bashful. ashamed. terrified of the truth. terrified of the monster he is. vicious and destructive in all matters of the self.

speeding car on a dead end path.

“g-guess so. yeah. funny.”

steve’s voice is distant, murky, undone, and empty. brows furrowed. lips bitten.

he’s beautiful and strange. colored all shades of pink. hairy thighs. soft heart. golden boy.

steve and eddie zipping themselves back into their jeans. making separate excuses about this and that.

“gotta get going—”

“me too—”

“band practice—”

“dinner with robin—”

“see ya later—”

“yeah—”

steve and eddie touching themselves, alone in their rooms—later that night.

moon high. beds cold. moans hidden behind clenched fists.

steve humping his pillow.

faster, harder than he’s done in a long time. eddie’s rings and silver tongue on his mind. he’s drunk on it. dizzy and loose.

eddie fucking himself open with a toy. legs spread wide. tongue between teeth. hand on his stomach to feel the bulge where he dreams steve’s pretty cock might some day be, if he’s lucky.

steve and eddie cumming at the same time, across town, and reaching for the phone at the exact same instant.

“i need you—”

“i miss you—”

“come over—”

“i’m already on my way.”

taglist (message me to be added or removed at any time <3): @estrellami-1 @disastardly @ilovecupcakesandtea @the-redthread @asbealthgn @bestofbucky @vampireinthesun @carlyv @shrimply-a-menace @lordrrascal @jjoesjonas @malachitedevil @anxiouseds @gay-little-bitch @jhrc666 @pinkdaisies1998 @mcneen @perseus-notjackson @eiddets @corroded-coffin-groupie @three-possums-playing-human @stevesbipanic @plutoshelm @arkenstoned @indiearr @they-reap-what-we-sow @gleek4twd @bunnyweasley23 @livingoutload @a-little-unsteddie @novelnovella @rugbertgoeshome @neverlandwaitingforme @anglhrts @swiss-cheeze

[eepyuii]

frostbite — pt. 6

pairing ; childe x gender neutral!reader

content ; childhood friends to “rivals” to lovers, slowburn-ish

cw ; fighting and mentions of injuries, but nothing specific tho

notes ; happy holidays, fellow childe enjoyers!! hope you’re all having a wonderful time. this chapter feels close up-y if that makes sense but i promise there’s MUCH more to come >:3

previous | next | masterlist

you see childe as faceted.

he’s childe, he’s tartaglia and he’s ajax- all at once and one at a time. he’s childe, the ruthless maniacal warrior who prioritizes strength and triumph above all else- a weapon of war. he’s tartaglia, the calculating, fake smile wearing, connection-making debt collector- a fatui harbinger. but then, he’s also ajax, a warm, family loving, hug providing and dream protecting big brother- your best friend.

you see all three of those people in him. though… the latter, not so often. he was ajax when he was at home, seeing his family and playing around with teucer, that you know, but you hadn’t seen him in morepesok in more than half a decade. no, the last time you saw him be ajax was when you were fourteen- you called him ajax for the last time when you were fourteen.

ever since then, he’s been childe.

you’ve never made the mistake to call him otherwise, because there was no mistake to be made at all. when you were in zapolyarny palace, he was childe. when you were dining in liyue, he was childe. even when you first sparred and eventually fought in the golden house, he was childe.

so why is it now when you’re faced with an entirely new being, biology indecipherable yet identity indistinguishable, that you call him ajax?

perhaps you’d like to blame it on exhaustion- you’d been fighting incessantly for whoever knows how long, fingers sore from gripping your weapon so tight and legs shaking to merely stand. or perhaps it’s the sheer confusion and inability to truly comprehend the sight before you, there’s no plausible explanation within your grasp as to why he’s even able to transform into that after all. or maybe… maybe you see too many people in him that aren’t ajax anymore.

and you’re desperate to see ajax again.

and the worst part is that you can’t even name the being before you, you can’t come up with what or who it could be within childe’s facets. the mental gymnastics happening in your brain render you frozen, limbs heavy and heart erratic- leaving you to fall motionlessly when the creature stabs his weapon into the ground and promptly shatters it. the falling rubble reveals a whole new lower floor of the golden house, one that your downturned gaze can’t help but stare into as you’re falling. as the ground seems to get closer, you shut your eyes and brace for the impact, hoping it’ll at most break just your ankles.

but the impact never arrives.

instead, you feel a tug to your sleeve that breaks the violent pull of gravity you were experiencing- it results in your feet making the gentlest contact with the ground. you assume it was paimon pulling you just in time as she floats down along the two of you, because the second you open your eyes she’s flying over to the traveler to check on her.

the sight takes away any notice of the purple flash that passes through you in the very same moment.

after a brief recovery, the two of square up for a third time as you spot a purple spark from across the settling dust of the debris. it’s centered and tall, telling you the glow is coming directly from the singular eye of the creature.

“you got to the gnosis before me, didn’t you?!” a deep, distorted, growling voice yells out, yet you can still hear a bit of childe’s own voice within it.

“did you simply move faster? or… did you leak the information regarding the golden house to me on purpose? was it you, y/n? have you been working with them from the start?!” he swings at you expertly, electro trailing after the weapon’s path while surges of water shoot up towards you at the same time.

“no matter. hand over the gnosis, now! don’t make me take it from you…”

“w-we didn’t take it!” paimon defends.

“do you hear yourself right now?! none of us could’ve taken it, it’s not here!” you add coarsely.

he doesn’t seem to hear you as he incessantly strikes and blinks away from your attacks, sending his own long ranged lightning strikes instead. both of you take several heavy hits from the creature and after some time, you feel like you’re about to collapse. you don’t have anymore energy to heal yourself, much less the traveler- yet you still push yourself to sustain her as much as you can. you think you’ve reached hallucinatory levels of exhaustion when you see… it.

an impossibly large elemental whale that surges from the ground.

it flies upward with a deafening vocalization and slams back down with waves of water. you back up as far as possible as the whale takes up the entire floor, even if you doubt that what you see is real. that very doubt is soon dispelled when you watch the traveler fall to the ground where the whale just landed, soaked in water. you panic and rush to aid her but before you even get to the traveler’s side, the creature’s large blade comes down right in front of you- it was so close that were you even an inch forward, it would’ve sliced your face clean off. the traveler gestures for you not worry about her as she get struggles to stand up and eyes the creature, who’s currently preparing a charging surge of electro and hydro, while you’re cornered.

the seconds before he strikes seem to slow down while your heart pumps inhumanely fast- your mind scatters for what to do until you look down took your feet, noticing the way the excess water ripples with your steps. your hand twitches with cryo energy and a wall of ice shoots up the next moment, extending all the way to where the traveler is still getting up. the unexpected defense catches the creature off-guard and he staggers for a moment, giving you the chance to sprint all the way out and behind him, where his starry cape floats endlessly into nothingness. you almost land your sneak attack when he suddenly seems to sense your presence and turns around just in time to retaliate.

“all you do is run!” he growls.

when he slashes his electro-charged weapon this time, you manage to catch it with the pole of your own spear, holding it away from you with all the might you’re still able to muster. movement from your peripheral vision catches your attention.

“now!” you yell.

the traveler understands perfectly and jumps to hit the creature from the back while he’s still busy pushing back against your polearm. the strike seems to be final, as the creature drops his weapon from yours and steps back, falling to his knees. another flash of purple light emits from him and suddenly, childe is in the creature’s stead once more.

he heaves weakly, head turned down defeatedly.

“ngh… well then, time to cool off.”

childe is practically spitting out the words with how much force he has to put into getting them out. “it seems the burden of the foul legacy transformation was too great on my body. i lacked the opportunity to think this through…”

foul legacy… well there’s its name. seeing childe in front of you again makes the entirety of the last few minutes seem unreal, like you woke up from a nightmare where childe was… that. like it never happened- though the sheer amount of injuries that all three of you bear prove otherwise.

“…you had no connection to the gnosis, no matter where it’d been taken.”

“that’s what we’ve been trying to tell you! we didn’t take it!” paimon urges, hands on her hips.

childe struggles to get to his feet, as if his limbs have turned to lead, once he finally gets to it, he’s still panting coarsely.

“this battle has already left me satisfied. anyone who strives as i do to grow stronger shall be called a friend, even if our friendship can only be shown in battle against one another.” with the next sentence, childe eyes you momentarily, when you try to catch his gaze back, it’s already gone- as if he’s too ashamed to actually meet your eyes in return.

“pretty sure that’s not the normal way to make friends.”

you snort. “you’re still expecting anything normal after all this?”

“unfortunately, i mus bring this amiable conversation to an end. my quest still beckons. given that the gnosis wasn’t taken by anyone, we must look to the beginning- it was never in the exuvia to begin with. in fact, it might be that the exuvia was just a diversion of sorts.”

“hm… i wonder who called that way beforehand.”

“what? so you mean that…” paimon trails off and the traveler finishes.

“…rex lapis is alive?”

you nod. “it would appear so.”

“it seems that the guardian deity of the capital of commerce is also well-versed in little maneuvers beyond the boundaries of contracts. as such, we must now look to our backup plan.”

your heart sinks.

with all the commotion, you’d nearly forgotten what you went to the golden house for to begin with. to deter childe from summoning osial. suddenly, all the tension and uneasiness from the fight creeps back into your spine and the traveler notices instantly, visibly becoming concerned herself.

“childe…” you warn.

paimon, on the other hand, remains clueless. “backup plan?”

“i had hoped it would never come to this… for the weak to be swept away in the process. the truth is, the world belongs to those who pursue strength- i seldom willingly involve myself with the weak. unfortunately, we cannot be picky about our methods as fatui harbingers, children must all learn to eat their vegetables sometimes.”

his choice of words and childish expression seems to only pour more salt into the wound- famously something you heard his mother nag him about when you were younger, which in turn you’d hear him complain about to you in private. seems like he’s more than learned to eat his vegetables and only the gods may know how much you wish he didn’t.

“so what’re you planning to do?”

“i will awaken the god that lies dormant beneath guyun stone forest.”

“a god?!” paimon exclaims.

you sigh, shamefully averting your gaze to the ground. “osial, overlord of the vortex… he was defeated by rex lapis in the archon war. he’s remained pinned beneath the geo archon’s spears in guyun stone forest ever since.”

“if such an ancient god were to be unleashed upon liyue harbor, defenseless without the protection of its deity…”

your fists are shut so tightly that your nails start digging into your palms.

“he means to draw out rex lapis with a threat to his people.”

childe nods smugly. “do you truly think the cunning rex lapis would just stand aloof and watch the ensuing destruction?”

paimon’s gaze scatters around nervously. “but… the archon war ended two thousand years ago! how could an ancient god appear in a world now overseen by the seven?”

“simple. i’ve already prepared the means to awaken it.”

an amber aura suddenly surrounds childe and within another flash, sigils of permission start orbiting him.

“hey! those are sigils of permission!”

“the fatui have been researching them and… well- duplicating them.” you might as well assist in the exposition of the plan, no point in standing helplessly aside while childe prepares to drown an entire city. any chance of stopping him forcibly was also out the window, on account of how physically worn you were- standing on your shaking legs at all was already a challenge.

soon enough, thunders can be heard outside the golden house- it’s already done. you only don’t feel completely and utterly hopeless at how the next moments might turn out because, after seeing the traveler’s abilities in action, a sliver of faith festers in your chest. now it’s up to her and the adepti to deliver.

“hahaha! let’s see… will the nation that lost its deity be swallowed up by an ancient malice once more? if you wish to drown together with the people of liyue, you’re free to stay and enjoy the show!”

as childe laughs evilly, he’s swallowed by a vortex of water that floats up into the ceiling of the house and disappears without a trace and the three of you that remain rush out to catch up to him. unsurprisingly, there’s no clue as to where he might’ve gone and as the traveler and paimon prepare to head to the harbor and face again straight osial, they stop to look at you expectantly. you tell them that as much as you’d like to aid in the fight, you should go look for childe.

—

“heh… here to finish the job while i’m still weak?”

for someone so crafty, childe is not exactly hard to find. in fact, he’s in the first place you even think of looking- the mountaintop where you first sparred, sat against the trunk of one of the outer ginkgo trees in the area. his position displays a perfect view of the catastrophe you caused, the jade chamber floating before the seas where osial emerges from. childe doesn’t even turn to look over his shoulder when you arrive silently but he knows it’s you, almost as if he was waiting for you to show up.

“depends on how this conversation goes, really- and trust me when i say we have plenty to talk about.”

the harbinger remains silent, only turning his head to watch you sit neatly beside him against the next tree over and waiting for you to keep going.

“first of all… what the fuck was that in the golden house?”

he laughs, boyishly this time.

“a lot happened back there so that’s not very specific, but i’ll assume you’re referring to foul legacy. i guess i do owe you this explanation.” childe averts his gaze and sighs deeply, like he’s preparing to admit something difficult. the very start of his sentence justifies that.

“when i disappeared that day, i… fell. not like tripping on the ground or anything, i literally fell through the earth.”

you feel your entire being sink at the mention of that day. as painful as it is, you recall the exact moment he’s talking about- the very second the disappeared from your sight in the snow, at least now there’s some clarity as to what happened. unfortunately, that clarity doesn’t make anything any more comprehensible.

your eyebrows furrow in confusion. “w-what?”

“even after all these years, i myself don’t exactly know what happened. i just remember lying there in the snow, the wolves getting closer and closer and then- suddenly, a crevice opens and i fall straight through the ground. and i end up in the abyss.”

the abyss… you haven’t heard much about the abyss. it’s never come up as something of relevance or even interest to you. it’s always felt like such a distant topic to you, like i’d never truly be important enough for you to involve yourself in- turns out you’ve been sitting right next to it. snapping yourself from your brief thoughts, you turn to see childe with a tense expression, as though recalling is physically taxing to him.

“childe… you don’t need to tell me this if you’re-“

“ajax.”

“what?”

“call me ajax, please. i heard you say it back there and it’s been so long since you’ve called me that.” he asks, almost breathlessly.

so he did hear you before. dammit. the desperation for the name present in his voice sends you into reminiscence- about your time as children- how happy you were, how free you were, how careless you were. it seemed just like yesterday you were still fourteen and laughing with ajax as you played in his childhood bedroom. how did it all end up like this? with the two of you sitting in a mountaintop- pathetic, injured and tired as you watch an entire fucking catastrophe happen to a nation from far away.

ajax goes on to tell you about his time in the abyss, where he met a woman named skirk, where he was taught all he knows about combat, including but not limited to the foul legacy form, and where he became the killing machine that he is.

“then… can i ask- the day you came back,” you start off and the memory already brings stinging tears to your eyes. the scar on your neck, the one you still have from ajax’s sword, seems to start burning as well.

“why-… why did you react like that? was it the shock from all you went through?”

ajax’s expression turns to that of a kicked puppy- well in this case, he would be the one to kick the puppy and feel endlessly guilty about it. he eyes your neck and spots the small slit of scarred tissue, flinching at his own doing.

“i-i would say so, yes. if i’m being entirely honest, i don’t even remember that day very well. i guess i was still in a state or fight or flight… well, heh, in my case only fight.” he chuckles sheepishly and you return it.

“i’m… i’m really sorry for hurting you, y/n. i know i’m not exactly in the place to say that after fighting you twice in a day but- i promise i never intended to back then.”

you nod in understanding, you’re too spent to even try to be mad at him right now. looking back towards the fight, you watch osial take a heavy hit from the defenders of liyue just in time. at this point you’re not even worried that they might not win.

“i’m tired of fighting, ajax. as annoying as you can be sometimes and in need of a bicker, i’m tired of being… on edge whenever we talk. we’re clearly having a nice talk right now so, tell you what- what about a truce? let’s not make each other’s lives harder than they already are.”

ajax seems to physically light up at your proposition, like it’s all he’s ever wanted. he nods fervently and flashes a giddy smile that infects your own face subconsciously. you reach into one of your pockets with an idea, pulling out a small object that you present to him on an open palm.

“here. a symbol of our truce.”

you offer him one of the origami stars you made before, it’s not like you have any use for the hundreds of them that you made. ajax takes it into his own hands with the gentlest of holds.

“since when do you know how to make these?”

“since earlier today. i was astronomically bored waiting for the millelith to show up.”

ajax snorts out a laugh, then a second passes by and he bursts into full hearty laughter and for the third time, you can’t help but to join in on him.

“wait! does this mean we can still spar every once in awhile?”

“don’t push it, harbinger.”

taglist ; @kentply @osaemu @rain-and-a-nice-nap

[snowblack-charcoalwhite]

I truly believe the latest leaks to be true because it's something these writers would write and goes well with the mess we've seen so far. And yes, Aemond is apparently the worst man who ever lived, he burns villages, executes kingsguards, punishes smallfolk, taunts his dying brother... All of this could have made perfect sense if they had developed his character well in s2 and with an actual respect of the narrative coherence, but we all know this wasn't the case. It saddens me to see the photo of him and Aegon knowing it's almost certainly a taunting scene, or the ones with Alicent (for a similar reason). I know this might be an unpopular opinion in the green fandom right now, but it seems to me that Aemond and Alicent got an even worse treatment than Aegon by the showrunners and writers. And those two were the ones who brought me to the green side in the first place. Idk, it seems there's nothing left for me in this stupid show.

Anyway, I always enjoy reading your analysis on hotd and would like to hear opinion on this. Thanks!

Hi! Thank you for your ask and for the compliment🙏🙂

Well, preach!

I, for one, do not have a problem with Aemond comitting acts of cruelty per se (executing the traitors (or even supposed traitors), burning villages and the like). I do have a problem with him turning on Aegon the way he did in the show - but even this, as you said, would not look and feel that bad if the writing had led Aemond to that point in a logical and comprehensive way instead of just going "well, he wants the throne because he believes his brother to be a dumbass (that he kind of is in the show) and because he's been bullied by him". Yes, Aegon is not the best ruler possible, he might do stupid things (he's at least partially driven to do them by rage and pain but still); yes, he was unkind and even cruel to his brother - but IMO we still haven't been shown enough to justify Aemond becoming - script-wise, at least - a full-on Disney villain.

A side note: as for Aemong&Aegon scene the sneak peek of which we got in the preview - as of now I do believe it is indeed a part of Aegon's hallucinations. Naturally, I can be wrong - and we'll know if I am soon enough.

And, whether it is an unpopular opinion or not, I also agree with you on the point of Aemond and Alicent having been treated way worse than Aegon (both in season 2 and in the story (season 1 + season 2) overall). The thing is, I believe that every character in HotD is being treated by HBO, writers, showrunners merely as a tool for pushing the agenda they informed the show with (I talked about it here). And, well, the characters within every story do serve to tell the readers/viewers something, to deliver the author's ideas to them. What doesn't sit right with me about HotD is the exploitative, disrespectful and amateurish way in which it is being done.

As one who loves Aemond, probablly the most of all the HotD characters - and although my second fave is Aegon as opposed to you naming Alicent, I do love her too - I share your feelings about the lot they've been dealt in season 2. And yet, as I feel it, the glimpse of light in the dark still remains - in the form of Ewan and Olivia's acting and screen presence .

[mrs-monaghan]

Since we're going by the logic of Jikook are not seen in public together = they have broken up, then my sister's relationship with her husband, who she has a literal child with, is FAKE, because I never see them in public!!!!!! They don't go out! So fake! Outrageous! How ABSURD it is for a long-term couple to want PRIVACY!!!! How dare my sister go out with me/be seen with me in public and not her boyfriend! How dare she have other people in her life!

How even more FLABBERGASTING that a worldwide famous long-term couple living in a homophobic country want to hang out in a totally safe and private way for them! It doesn't matter that their career could end and they could even be arrested, and it doesn't matter that photos of them on white day were leaked, exposing them in an intimate moment, and it doesn't matter that their names were on Dispatch's list, together with other couples that admitted they were together.

HOW DARE Jungkook and Jimin not make out in front of the cameras for us???? How dare Jungkook and Jimin try to protect their privacy after so many leaked pictures and all the stalking?

That's how stupid y'all wishy washy Jikookers and taekookers sound. Babes do you REALLY think Jungkook and Jimin always tell us truth? Do you really think they tell us EVERYTHING that goes on in their lives?

Shouldn't y'all take Taennie as an example? They were going out for God knows how long and they were NEVER spotted. Sure, leaked pictures here and there, which Jikook also have, but they've never seen in public together, either.

It's time y'all use the brains god gave you. Don't be scared of it, yeah? USE IT.

Do you really think they tell us EVERYTHING?

I wanna talk about this. This goes out to the holier than though Jikookers out there who judge us other Jikookers who still believe that the JM on JK's hand is for Jimin.

Anon I agree with you 1013%. Please allow me to hijack your post an address this topic.

Okay so JK went live and said the J stands for Jungkook. Right. I ended up in report pages for saying this on twitter but I will say it again. How many people do you know that tattoo their own names on themselves? No seriously. How many? I said even the most narcissistic person wouldn't do this and I got blocked and reported. But it's true. JK is not a narcissist, far from it even. He has a big heart and loves those around him and loves us Army even when we don't deserve it. That man did not tattoo his name on himself. That's point number 1.

Point 2. Who tf calls him J? He calls himself JK, members call him JK. Everyone calls him JK. The only member we've heard tell us to call him J was Jhope and I think that was "Jay"

Point 3 and what I wanna talk about. No, I'm not calling JK a liar. I am calling him an omiter. He ommited the truth. The point of him explaining the tattoos I believe was to debunk the V/A. Which he did, thank God. But I digress.

Being a Jikooker is based on deducing and analysing. Listening to them, watching them and concluding they're together. They have never outright told us. Alright?

Jimin said, he bit JK.

Jikookers said it was a hickey. Because its right by the mole. Because it didn't fade. Because there were no teeth marks. Okay. Fine. But why do we believe the J stands for Jungkook, but we won't believe when Jimin said he bit JK and no shenanigans were involved?

Jungkook said he goes to Jimin's hotel room because its closer.

Jikookers said it was a lie. He goes because he wants to spend time with Jimin. And he doesn't just sit there for hours and do nothing. He was lying. So why do we believe the J stands for Jungkook, but we won't believe he went to Jimin's room out of convenience?

Jungkook said Jimin wasn't the main model of GCF.

Jikookers said that can't possibly be true because JK highlights Jimin in all the videos and Jimin always gets the most screentime. Okay. So why do we believe the J stands for Jungkook, but we won't believe when he said Jimin wasn't his main model?

JK said he always sleeps in Jihope's room because his bed is uncomfortable.

Jikookers said nah, JK just likes sleeping with Jimin. JK sleeps in that room because he's dating Jimin. They had enough money to get JK a better mattress, so that was clearly just an excuse. So why do we believe the J is for Jungkook, but we didn't believe when he said his own bed was uncomfortable?

JK said he's always recording Jimin because Jimin is always around

Jikookers said that wasn't true because anytime JK has a camera, more often than not he's pointing it at Jimin. Even when sometimes Jimin doesn't notice. So clearly JK was lying. Right? So why do we believe the J is for Jungkook, but we didn't believe JK's reason for why he's always filming Jimin?

Have i made my point yet???

"The J stands for Jungkook, JK said so."

Be quiet.

If you believe that then you might as well stop believing in Jikook rn because these mofos have never told us they were gay for eo. We concluded that after mountains of suspicious moments and unexplainable sexual tension. We concluded. They didn't tell us.

And if you wanna still believe in Jikook then get off your fucking high horse where you nitpick what to buy and judge those of us who wanna believe in the JM tattoo or Jikook numbers or Jikook dropping eo off at the airport. There are clearly levels of Jikookery but everyone needs to stay in their lane and stop judging. You just come off looking like a fucking hypocrite. We don't all have to think or see things the same way.

The JM stands for Jimin. Otherwise he would have left his tattoos like this.

Rant over. I'm done. But I needed to get that off my chest. Anyway, Jikook is real. Amen.

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