#I think I’m hungry lmfaooo

[thunderheadfred]

My mom found out I love Ethiopian food and sent me a video on how to make injera, recommended by one of her Ethiopian co-workers, and it starts out with “now, this can be tricky even for Ethiopian cooks” and I’m like ok great cool can’t wait to try it at home

(Calls nearest Ethiopian restaurant)

[ellecdc]

hi! this is my first request but i was wondering if you could do poly!marauders or any characters with reader who’s in a wheelchair? i saw your mute!reader and loved it so much! i’m a wheelchair user myself with limited mobility in my hands and i never see readers that resonate with me. if you can’t, that’s totally understandable though!

side note; but i can literally picture sirius and james trying to push the wheelchair and popping wheelies or even racing LMFAOOO

this is so cute! thanks so much for the request, I hope I did it justice! & the second part is absolutely not based off of a frequent scenario when me and my friend who is a wheelchair user go to restaurants 😅

poly!marauders x fem!reader who is a wheelchair user

CW: fluff, simping marauders, Remus advocating heavily for reader's independence, James just wanting to spoil reader, Sirius being the master of deduction, subtle/casual ableism

“Do you want a break, dove?” Remus asked pointedly; mostly making a statement to James and less concerned that you weren’t speaking up for yourself. 

“I don’t mind a break.” You said easily as you smiled up at James above you.

“Yes, but dove, do you want a break?” Remus asked again, moving to stand in front of you so you were forced to stop and look at him.

“My arms are a little tired, and this street does seem to have a bit of an incline. I’m happy to have James push me for a bit, Rem.” You assured him, though you hoped that your gratitude for his staunch defense of your independence shone through. 

“She knows I just like spoiling her.” James gloated as he bent overtop of you, pressing a ‘spiderman kiss’ to your lips before straightening up and speeding up the street. 

“It’s less that you like to spoil her and more that you like trying new tricks.” Sirius commented as he fell into step with Remus.

“It can be both!” James argued; laughing as you squealed when he ‘popped a wheelie’.

“Prongs, if you break her wheelchair I swear to God.” Remus threatened.

“I’m not gonna break it!” James argued before bending down to murmur into your ear. “I’m not gonna break it, am I?”

You chuckled as you leaned to press the side of your face to his cheek. “No you’re okay; just don’t get too rowdy.”

“Yes ma’am.” He agreed readily. 

“God I’m starved.” Sirius grumbled then. “Are you lot hungry?”

“I could eat!” James offered.

“It’d be nice to sit down for a bit; are you hungry, dove?” Remus asked. You looked up and down the street; happy to notice that even in this older part of town, there were plenty of wheelchair ramps. 

“Yeah, I think that should be fine.” You offered; though Sirius seemed to sniff out your hesitation as he quickly rushed over to plant his face against the window of a nearby establishment. 

“Not to worry, doll; this one looks good!” Sirius’ shout was muffled from where he was pressed up against the glass of a restaurant he deemed worthy of the four of you.

“They’re likely not going to allow us entrance with a hellian like you.” You teased half-heartedly - feeling really quite thankful for his easy deduction and thoughtfulness that not everyone put into finding accessible venues - as you took over guiding your chair and James relinquished his hold on your handles. 

“Why not? I thought they had to allow service dogs?” James taunted, causing Sirius to scoff indignantly and launch himself at James which quickly turned into a playful brawl right outside of the restaurant. 

“Good lord, we really can’t take them anywhere, can we?” Remus muttered as he came over and rested his hip against you, watching with a look of ill-hidden admiration for your two somewhat chaotic boyfriends.

“Oi!” You shouted, causing the two of them to split apart hastily, not unlike naughty school children caught scuffling on school grounds. “I thought I was being promised food?”

“Sorry angel!” James called at the same time Sirius said “and food you will get, princess.” 

The four of you headed towards the restaurant; James running up to hold the door for you all and Sirius patting his arse on his way by, followed by you and then Remus. 

Sirius, in all his casual panache, sauntered up to the hostess desk to ask for a table for four.

“Sounds great!” The hostess chirped back, visibly excited for the attention of a very attractive man. “Would you like a table or a booth?”

All three boys slowly turned to face you; Sirius fighting the urge to shake his head in second-hand embarrassment, James looking at you with a sort of frustrated bemusement, and Remus who shared a knowing smirk with you as they all allowed you to field the question.

“Erm, I think perhaps a table would be best, if you didn’t mind?” You asked the hostess with a smile, trying to bite back a chuckle at the way the blood seemed to drain from her face.

“Oh! Yes! Of course; terribly sorry, I- erm, right this way!” She sputtered, turning on her heel and walking - quite briskly - towards whichever table she deigned to seat you lot at as if she were hoping to quickly rid herself of this awkward situation. 

Remus, tapping your shoulder first to ask permission, took over driving for you so as to keep up with the rest of your party.

You felt a little bit bad for the hostess who kept turning to offer you apologetic smiles as you and Remus tried not to laugh at her expense. It wasn’t really her fault; she was simply reciting a script she likely had to ask nearly 100 times a day. 

But the way you saw it; if you had to deal with society’s subtle ableism, you were entitled to a few chuckles at their expense. 

You made sure to thank the hostess as she removed the fourth chair from your table before she left.

“I love watching people squirm like that.” Sirius commented as he sat down.

“Don’t be mean.” You admonished. “She didn’t know.”

“Well she ought to know.” James grumbled then. 

“I’m not that fussed; it’s kind of funny.” You said then as you reached for a glass of water; James quickly leaning forward to grab it for you.

“She can grab herself a glass of water, bubs.” Remus chided tiredly then, shooting you an apologetic look. 

“Yes but she shouldn’t have to, Rem. Don't act like I don't do the same for you when your joints are acting up.” James responded as he handed your drink to you carefully before pressing a smacking kiss to your cheek.

You winked sympathetically at Remus as his face flushed in embarrassment. 

“The only difference is that she gets the princess treatment 24/7.” Sirius added with a wink as he pulled Remus roughly into his side. 

And though you’d likely never admit it out loud, you couldn’t deny that you sort of loved the princess treatment.

[vintagepresley]

Mhm, I approve. I think you already knew that though. I had the feeling I was John approved. Just intuition I guess.

Oh stop. Poor Walter probably thought he did something wrong. She was just hungry. Babies are unpredictable sometimes. She’s like me when I’m hungry, I get hangry.

- Surae

Caroline literally is a mini Surae. Omg stop why can I see her trying to argue with Walter the way Surae and Walter argue 😭 lmfaooo

[kissingrhi]

brat reader…. op u are so speaking my language right now

NOTES 🩷🌟💐🦢

- I LOVE!!! the trio of farleigh, oliver, and reader solely because i know they clash SO BAD LMFAOOO

- “Farleigh isn't the only one in the house who can wrap people around his little finger; he isn't the only one in the house who can get the Princess to kneel.” this????? oh wow. it eases my soul to know writers this good exist

- okay fucking modern day shakespeare

- "Was a nasty thing you did to me tonight.” womp womp! (i’d let him ruin my life)

- oh reader is MEAN and biting and i LOVE IT!!!! op, you did not skimp out on the BRAT of brat reader and i thank you forever

- “They might have been right. You might be the devil.” mmhm debauched and lustful i love this

- the moonlight peeking in too this immersion is downright sacred

- “Then, in the furious silence that followed, you grinned sharply at the roof, still not bothering to look at him, "try harder." the not bothering to look at him is such a good detail omg

- "The fuck? Did you just kick me?" "Yeah, and?" He can almost hear you rolling your eyes, "what did you think it was, the wind? Ghost of Grandma Catton?" IM CRYING

- “Propped up on your elbows, you give a grin that's all teeth, "wanted to show us who has the real power, that you can get us back for the stunt we pulled after dinner," you sat up further, intense, hungry amusement in your eyes that drew Oliver in to you, leaning in, his hands coming to rest on your thighs as you were almost nose to nose.” the thing i really enjoy about this, speaking so generally here (because i WILL go into detail), is that you add CHARACTER to the reader.. they’re a spectacle of their own. it makes such a difference and creates for such an intriguing effect — it REALLY feels more like watching the movie

- WHEN FARLEIGH WALKED IN I STARTED GIGGGLINGGGGG oh this is so fucking good and Haute

- "Okay, your fucking highness," Farleigh's voice is low and dangerous, full of warning, and Oliver sees you take a sharp breath in, gaze fixed on Farleigh's, "you don't get shit from either of us if you can't keep your dirty mouth closed." just imagining this in his night time rasp ANDDD the detail of him being fully clothed in such nice material while the reader’s nude… i’m clawing at my walls.

- “This, however, quickly turns smug and mean as Farleigh leans in, nose to nose with Oliver and his building frustration with them both; "you know how to eat pussy, right?" this TENSION OH FUCKKK

- i want two boyfriends and i want the boyfriends to be boyfriends 💖

- "Weren't you listening to Farleigh, princess?" Oliver asks, and there's something so deliciously satisfying about the look of flustered surprise on your face in this moment.” ohhh oh wow oh ok okhxhiskdf. i just KNOW oliver would eat this up too, that freak LOVES competition

- "Farleigh!" You exclaim with utter frustration, right leg lashing out to kick him, but he grabs your ankle and holds it tightly.” the way he was expectant… i’m SCREAMING

- “This is overkill, I'll be good," you pouted, twisting to lay your head on his thigh, looking up at him with as pleading eyes as you could manage.” wow reader is a MINX!! i love this i love readers with some SPICE! not all that whiny, shy shit give me more OF THIS! it tickles me PINK 🍽️ exquisite fine dining

- "you want me to touch you like I mean it, then keep your legs spread like you actually fucking want it," from oliver and then farleigh’s ACTUAL surprise got me because it’s just so magnificently in character

- “You gasp, as if betrayed, before remembering for yourself, actually whining, "you guys fucking suck," you whimper petulantly.” LMAOOOO

- "You're all talk, Farleigh.” oh???? my?????????? THE COMPETITION BETWEEN THEM

- "I think you're edging each other with psychosexual, power-play, bullshit-banter that's doing fucking nothing for me," you snap behind your hands, "and I'm gonna start kicking people again very soon," you warned.” i love how even though through being flustered the reader is STILLL KEEPING THIS UP! so good and so testy

- omg

- the entire fingering scene

- i

- oh wow

- “he says pointedly, not that you seem to notice; your eyes are closed, and Farleigh's thumb is on your clit while the fingers he has inside of you curl lovingly into your sweet spot, "manages to escape every pair of padded handcuffs either of us have ever bought," LMAOOOOO

- “Hear that?" Farleigh murmurs with a vindictive little smile, hand uncovering your mouth, moving to hold your chin, your mouth falling open in a moan as his nails scratch up your thighs.” OH?????? THAT’S 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

- the way that farleigh and oliver sort of come together just for the sole purpose of picking you apart… yeah i’m sick.

- “You're whimpering and moaning in his ear, straining against your handcuffs, arching, writhing, but Oliver's holding your thighs still and secure and Farleigh is captivated by how enthusiastically he's going down on you, how its shining on his cheeks, his nose - he reaches out, cards his fingers through Oliver's hair. Oliver looks up through his lashes, a fucking gorgeous sight that you're too lost to appreciate. Just for Farleigh.” and if i say that this paragraph changed my life??? this dynamic is so fucking good, op you NAILED IT

- FARLEIGH CARESSING OLIVER’S HAIR WHILE HE GOES DOWN ON THE READER. 💖💖💖💖💖💖😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

- “Farleigh's hand in his hair, was almost enough to send you over the edge, "tell him what I mean." jaw dropped down to hell. so Haute

- “reaching out, he presses the fingers against Farleigh's lips, your cum coating them like syrup. Farleigh is more than happy to lick them clean, tongue dancing lewdly around Oliver's digits, all kinds of inuendo and promise in his eyes.” OH IH UDIRJFJWKD IM SCREAMINGGGG

- “He spits in your mouth, sudden sneer curling his lip, blue eyes ice cold and demeaning; "and it's thank you, Oliver Quick." the switch up… like he was going soft… like he was putting on an act — JUST LIKE IN THE MOVIE?????

op… where do i even start? genuinely? your characterization is genuinely sublime and you have an actual gift for writing. if you haven’t thought about pursuing it, in some form, i say do it — you will make BANK! you capture their characters perfectly: the battle of wits but also the lasting attraction? not to mention the way you perfectly squeeze the reader in between the two of them. this is so reread worthy i can’t stress it enough. trust, i’ll pick this apart more, i’m sort of in shock at how damn good it is right now!

baby, put your back into it {Farleigh Start/Reader/Oliver Quick}

1/2: i'm gonna talk you through it [SMUT]

Summary: You're the daughter of one of Henrys, and known to be a snobby, entitled Princess of a woman; neither Venetia nor Felix seems to like you. Farleigh, however, claims that you and he have an ongoing arrangement. Felix says that arrangement is that you and Farleigh bitch together, then fuck like wild animals every time you hang out. Turns out you're even bitchier in person, and after a cruel joke played on Oliver by you and Farleigh at the Henrys dinner, he decides to take a bit of power back. Not that it goes as intended... nor that it goes completely wrong.

Need to Know: She/Her. AFAB!Reader. Established FWB Brat!Reader/Brat Tamer!Farleigh

Warnings: PWP!! smut; fingering, oral (F receiving), dirty talk, lots of arguing, reader is very very bratty, demeaning talk, bondage & restraints, explicit discussions around safewords (it does happen a little bit into the action but before anything major), pet name used for the reader "princess"

A/N: 4730 words. okay turns out i can write pwp. i cut out like 1.5k of background and you get the gist of it in the summary. there will be a part 2 thats heavy on the smut, but this trio takes a while to set anything up because they can't stop arguing. hints of farleigh/oliver. this was a lot of fun but again i can't stress how long its been since ive written full, proper smut, so id really appreciate feedback. <3 unedited, i love you.

TAGLIST IN COMMENTS!! // TAGLIST ALWAYS OPEN ! (just message or comment to be added)

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Fucking Farleigh Start. Oliver feels the fury as it burns and bubbles inside of him, stalking quietly through the halls of Saltburn. There, at the end of the hall, Farleigh's bedroom door, quiet and unassuming, and right next to it, Oliver's target; your door. Farleigh isn't the only one in the house who can wrap people around his little finger; he isn't the only one in the house who can get the Princess to kneel.

Trying the handle, he finds it unlocked, and eases the old, wooden door open.

"Farleigh was right," upon hearing your voice, bright, amused, and very much awake in the dark, Oliver jumps, "you're an A-plus lurker, I didn't even hear you come in."

"Was a nasty thing you did to me tonight," Oliver tries to regain some of his composure, some of the ire he'd built up on the way here.

"So you've snuck into my room, I assume you assumed I was asleep, to- what, wake me up and berate me?" There's something smug and biting in your voice, something that fuels the fury coiling deep in his gut, "that doesn't sound like enough for someone like you, tricksie, little, pauper boy." When you start to move from where you've been sitting up in bed, crawling to the end to sit on your knees as the moonlight streaks through your window and finally paints you in sharp relief, he sees you're already nude.

But even your stunning body in the moonlight cannot compare to the look on your face, the sharp, hungry, mean amusement he's never seen a person wear so well.

"Go on then, shout," your eyes shine dangerously in the moonlight; "don't you want Farleigh to hear?" They might have been right. You might be the devil. Your smile gets wider, and Oliver can only watch, rather transfixed, as you start rolling your hips with purpose, "or do you want him to hear something else?" He hears, quietly at first, a soft tap, getting louder as you keep insistently thrusting against the air, against the mattress, the sound of the bedframe hitting the wall behind it, the wall that you shared with Farleigh on the other side.

Then, all at once, you stopped. A loud, mean laugh is pulled from you as you pitch yourself back on the bed, kicking your legs out in front of you to hang off the edge, completely relaxed, completely exposed. You give a loud, amused sigh, looking up at the canopy of the four poster bed.

"God, you're such a little bitch, Oliver, Farleigh was so right," you snorted, "I was the one who actually saw you eating Venetia like your life depended on it, on the lawn of all places," you shook your head, "I don't know what you told Felix to get out of that one but I know what I saw," clicking your tongue, you raised your leg, pointing a foot at him, not even bothering to look at him, "now you won't even touch me in my own bedroom when I'm practically begging for it. I'm choosing to be offended about that; you've offended me, Oliver."

Slowly, your leg lowers, and you kick your heels idly against the end of the bed in the silence.

"Where do you get all your attitude from?" Oliver finally speaks, tone turning scornful as he approached you.

"The money," you fire back with ease, "which is why you always seem to have none." Then, in the furious silence that followed, you grinned sharply at the roof, still not bothering to look at him, "try harder."

When he touches your knee, his fingers gentle against your skin, you kick him hard in the thigh with your other foot -

"The fuck? Did you just kick me?"

"Yeah, and?" He can almost hear you rolling your eyes, "what did you think it was, the wind? Ghost of Grandma Catton?"

"Do you fuckin' want me or not?" He's still standing within kicking range, he learns too late. All the while you've never even looked at him, always looking at the ceiling, hands comfortably, casually behind your head. There's a smug grin on your lips now, something teasing and once more mean.

"Do you want me?" You respond, legs gliding open, an open invitation to your slick, moon-drenched cunt, "I thought you wanted to use me to get back at Farleigh," you said mockingly, finally looking up and meeting his deep, furious gaze. Propped up on your elbows, you give a grin that's all teeth, "wanted to show us who has the real power, that you can get us back for the stunt we pulled after dinner," you sat up further, intense, hungry amusement in your eyes that drew Oliver in to you, leaning in, his hands coming to rest on your thighs as you were almost nose to nose. Your voice lowers, gaze on his lips as your voice turns to almost a moan, "wanted to show Farleigh that you could take anything he thought was his; even me," and you start fake moaning, softly at first, but getting exponentially louder as you leaned back again, against the bed, arching and writhing from nothing, putting on a show that ended with you shouting - "Oliver's a fucking bitch!" At the top of your lungs, and cackling with glee.

Rage exploded within Oliver, and for a moment, overcome with a strange sense of betrayal at your demonstration, he smacks at your inner thigh with all the might he can muster. He can tell it stings, your laughter stops for just a moment, leg flinching up for just a second, but then you're laughing harder if possible.

"Your first mistake - of many - was letting her talk at all," Farleigh's voice from the door is frankly annoyed. You, however, gasp with delight, sitting directly up and looking at Farleigh with absolute glee.

"That's not his fault, I wasn't going to tell him," you pointed out, before looking down at your thighs, and Oliver's hands still on them, and the part of you that must have still stung from the slap, "why is your grip so soft?" You looked up at him with a derisive expression, and immediately Oliver's grip on you goes tight, nails digging into your skin; you're fucking laughing at him again, still, "awe, you're getting there -"

"Could you stop that already?" Oliver leans in, scowling at you. Eyebrows raising in mock surprise, you grinned with devilish intent.

"Stop what?"

"All that fuckin' talking you're doing."

"I don't know, can I -?" But then out of seemingly nowhere, Farleigh sits himself down at the end of the bed next to you, flush against your side. He's still in his crisp, white shirt, and black slacks, looking so put together next to your brash nudity. When his hand comes up to your jaw, barely two fingers beneath your chin to guide you, to have you looking him in the eyes, you have to bite your lip to keep yourself quiet. Both he and Oliver can see how badly you want to laugh, to make any kind of sound, but you hold yourself back.

"Okay, your fucking highness," Farleigh's voice is low and dangerous, full of warning, and Oliver sees you take a sharp breath in, gaze fixed on Farleigh's, "you don't get shit from either of us if you can't keep your dirty mouth closed." Though you nod adamantly, you puff out your cheeks, amusement in your eyes as you're clearly desperate to say something; "what?" Farleigh frowns.

"I have really bad news for you about what I have to do to suck dick," you point out, trying to keep your composure. It's not working, giggles are escaping you at a rapid rate.

"You are testing nerves I didn't even know I had," Oliver admits, desperately trying to sink his nails into you as hard as he could. If he could draw blood, perhaps that would be enough penance for having to endure your infuriating company.

However, it's Farleigh who speaks, lip curling with frustration as he smacks Oliver's hand away from the thigh closest to him. With a solid grip on that thigh, he pulls you leg close to him, forcing your legs wider, exposing you further.

"Then do something about it," he practically orders, and something about the tone sparks a kind of indignation in his chest, "you need me to talk you through it?" He snaps. This, however, quickly turns smug and mean as Farleigh leans in, nose to nose with Oliver and his building frustration with them both; "you know how to eat pussy, right?"

"You should both be very careful what you wish for," Oliver's eyes flash with a dangerous confidence as he sank down on his knees between your legs. You, thrilled and delighted by how the situation was no unfolding, lay yourself back on the bed with contented laughter, hands coming to rest confidently behind your head once more.

Farleigh watches Oliver with intense scrutiny, and for reasons he's not quite sure of, Oliver meets his gaze, refuses to break eye contact. His hand moves first, no longer holding your left thigh, he digs his elbow into your soft inner thigh, bracing his arm against you, forcing your leg further open and keeping it that way, letting him comfortably rest his hand with his thumb on your clit.

"Smart boy," you hum appreciatively, shifting your hips back and forth a little as his thumb is rubbing circles against your clit, "knows where the start button is." He takes his thumb off of you, much to your confusion. His gaze is still locked with Farleigh's. "Fucking hell, are you tired already -?" You sat up on your elbows, scowling at him, but Oliver looks sharply to you.

"Weren't you listening to Farleigh, princess?" Oliver asks, and there's something so deliciously satisfying about the look of flustered surprise on your face in this moment. Beside you, Farleigh huffs a laugh to himself and stands, pulling off his tie. Oliver's full attention, however, is still trained on your. Slowly, as he speaks, he again begins to rub circles against your clit, teasing, never enough proper pressure to be satisfying.

"I -" you started, but he immediately stopped again; out of the corner of his eyes, Oliver sees Farleigh's approving nod. Something about this all has his blood rushing in his fucking ears. You press your lips together, giving him a now expectant look, as if here, I've done what you've asked.

You're so wet, so wanting, ready and waiting, right thigh inching closer, leg curling around him, heel pressing insistently into his back. God you look so fucking good, he wants nothing more than to eat you like a man starving, tasting every inch of you -

"Give me your belt," Farleigh interrupts, and Oliver pauses, mouth literally an inch from your cunt, looking up at Farleigh like he can't quite believe him right now.

"Farleigh!" You exclaim with utter frustration, right leg lashing out to kick him, but he grabs your ankle and holds it tightly. With his free hand he makes an expectant, grabby hand at Oliver.

"Belt, now please." He practically orders.

"Use your own belt, Farleigh," Oliver nods to the belt Farleigh had just tossed to the side of the room, and Farleigh gives him a thin, unamused smile.

"Mine's nicer, and I don't want your cum on it," he explained with a mean, humourless smile. Oliver sat back for a long, furious moment, undoing his belt. The minute his hands were off of you, you tried to whine, but Farleigh, now just in his boxers, sat further up the bed beside you.

"This is overkill, I'll be good," you pouted, twisting to lay your head on his thigh, looking up at him with as pleading eyes as you could manage.

"You're not even being good right now," he pointed out; "both your thighs are over Oliver's fucking shoulders, and you haven't gone thirty seconds without saying something," but clearly you're pleased and flustered at being called out. Farleigh says your name more insistently, and you try and play innocent before he practically orders, "get your fucking legs off of him!" Like he can't quite believe you're still trying these tricks, even though you both seem comfortable in this dynamic.

"Oliver~" Farleigh then practically sings like a warning, gaze turning much colder as it falls back on Oliver himself, "where are we with that belt?"

"What's it for anyways?" Oliver finally pulls his belt free, awkwardly half throwing it to Farleigh, who does actually thank him, before his attention is back on you, bare and warm and wet and - "princess," he says suddenly before Farleigh can even answer his initial question, looking up, and you make a noise of acknowledgement, "you want me to touch you like I mean it, then keep your legs spread like you actually fucking want it," voice going low and sharp, immediately you widen your legs as best you can.

"Oh, he's good," Farleigh says, surprisingly appreciatively, watching as Oliver makes a meal of you.

Finally, finally, Oliver's mouth is on you, tongue gliding playfully along your slit, his nose continually bumping his thumb as it continues to work your clit, firmer this time. You hips wriggle and roll with him, desperate for more, growing frustrated with his teasing lightness.

"The belt can be for several things," Farleigh began, matter-of-factly as he began to loop the belt through itself, focusing on his task at hand, "if she insists on closing her legs, I'm not above using both belts to make sure she keeps them open - this bedframe's especially good for that -" a hot spike of desire passes through Oliver all at once, picturing you bound and open and begging -

"Oh, don't joke about that Farleigh, come on, you know I love that -" you actually whimpered, but Oliver, still keeping in mind the earlier warning, once more stops entirely. You gasp, as if betrayed, before remembering for yourself, actually whining, "you guys fucking suck," you whimper petulantly. For a moment, Oliver wonders if he really aught to be here, if this strange, psychosexual encounter was really worth it.

"You're fucking loving this," Farleigh countered without a moment of hesitation, saying it with such confidence that it almost surprised Oliver, "you just hate that you can't shut the fuck up for any amount of time, and that Oliver isn't actually as much of a little bitch as you thought," clearing his throat, Farleigh cast an evaluative look, before trying to shrug it off nonchalantly, "as either of us thought, I guess."

A moment of quiet stillness passes, and Oliver looks to you, face scrunched up with embarrassment, as all of Farleigh's words apparently rang true.

"Are you hourly, Oliver?" Farleigh then scowls, much to Oliver's confusion. Farleigh looks at him like he's a downright idiot, "the princess is actually being quiet, which means..." he trailed off pointedly. Oliver sat back on his heels, frowning at Farleigh for a long moment, his hands coming to rest on your knees. You, yet again growing incredibly unsatisfied, groaned into your hands.

"Not if you're gonna talk to me like that," Oliver takes a deep breath, sitting tall, gaze unflinching as he meets Farleigh's sneering gaze.

"Then fuck off, Little Orphan Ollie, we don't need you," he spits, "you should really feel lucky that you even got this far -"

"You're all talk, Farleigh," Oliver, with a newfound confidence, and his hands on you, rubbing small, gentle circles against your inner thighs with his thumbs. Farleigh's eyes narrow, but Oliver's smile turns knowing, "I know you can throw her around, and tie her up, and give her orders, clearly," he tips his head ever so slightly to the side, gaze slipping to you, to where you've still got your face covered by your hands, "but we both know no-one can speak for her, but her."

The faint, frustrated whimpering that had been escaping you this entire time goes dead silent. Oliver feels the way you go very still. Farleigh, realising what Oliver meant, also turned to look at you properly.

"'s your bedroom, princess," Oliver leans in, presses a kiss to your inner thigh, murmuring softly against your skin, "what do you think?"

"I think you're edging each other with psychosexual, power-play, bullshit-banter that's doing fucking nothing for me," you snap behind your hands, "and I'm gonna start kicking people again very soon," you warned. Farleigh rolled his eyes.

"Sit up," he sighed.

"No."

"Make a choice," Oliver told you, tone firmer this time.

"Also no." Your voice was sounding particularly petulant, and you even brought your knees together, closing yourself off in front of Oliver. After a long, vaguely irate silence, Farleigh takes a deep breath.

"Is something wrong? Are we at a yellow light? Red light?" He asks, tone far gentler, he leans over, fingers gentle against your hairline by your fingertips.

"Light... colours?" Oliver asks with genuine confusion. Farleigh is far less patient when he turns on Oliver, like he's frustrated to even be explaining this.

"Like a traffic light; instead of a safety word like pineapple, we have green - go, yellow - slow down, red - stop," said like he wanted to include duh, obviously on the end, but refrained, turning back to you.

"And... they're for her?" Intrigued and surprisingly endeared by the concept, Oliver leans forward with a little smile, resting his chin on one of your knees, looking between yourself and Farleigh. He watches you sigh, even with your hands over your face.

"How do you not know how safe words work? What kind of sex have you been having?" Farleigh's judgemental tone hits Oliver square in the chest, but before he can even answer, you finally sit up, expression wide and overwhelmed with frustration.

"Farleigh look at him; he's like if they made repression a person! He's been having the most boring, vanilla sex known to man - if any - and getting off in his spare time to things that would make God cry. Look him in the eyes and tell me I'm wrong -" Farleigh's gaze flicked to Oliver, who suddenly felt himself begin to flush scarlet, and had to sit back again, frowning at his hands. There was something about the shame at being so concisely called out that was... thrilling. Something about how clearly you could see through him, through his persona to the raw want at his very core, it was freeing. You sat up further, with purpose, grabbing Oliver's chin so roughly it shocked him, forcing him to look in your eyes for a long moment.

"You came in here with purpose thinking I was asleep; creepy, hot, deranged; I'm into it," you told him sternly, "I literally could not care less about you otherwise, you're nothing to me the rest of the time. You came here to put me in my place, I don't want you here if you can't do that." Fucking hell, Oliver can feel his heartbeat racing as you shove his face away, your expression almost bordering on disgust.

"So you're..." Farleigh, as if frustrated by this little tirade you saw fit to go on, was unimpressed as he once more checked in.

"Green light, obviously," you threw your hands into the air in exasperation, "it's like you've never met me before -" but before you can slump back against the bed like you so clearly wanted to, Farleigh catches you, shifts behind you to prop you up.

"You're a brat," Oliver says, finally finding the words for the dynamic, and rather charmed by it all. Still, Farleigh has to get a word in edgewise.

"How long 'd it take you to figure that out?" He muttered sarcastically, doing something behind your back while you made a show of struggling and wiggling, refusing to keep your left arm with whatever he was doing.

"So," Oliver clarified, testing out the code, "green light?" You grinned at him, giving a pleased nod. Farleigh, finally having caught your left hand seemingly for good, reiterates the statement distractedly. Then, with a sense of triumph and relief, he pulls the belt, and his makeshift handcuffs, tight.

"Why are you still dressed?" You ask Oliver sharply. You may have had a point, but the game was back on. With your hands secured, Farleigh sat back behind you on the bed, pulling you flush to him, arms secured and pressed between the two of you that was just edging on uncomfortable.

"Why are you still talking?" He mutters into your ear, and he rests his chin on your shoulder, one hand coming to wrap over your mouth, while his other curled around your middle, pulling your legs apart, wasting no time in dipping two long, elegant fingers into you. Your eyes light up, gasping against his hand as the two of you watch with lust in your eyes as Oliver begins to undress.

"The belt," Farleigh's voice has that lazy kind of smugness that Oliver usually hated, but now kind of makes his head fuzzy and kind of like he wants to sink his teeth into him, "is to keep the princess in her place, because someone," he says pointedly, not that you seem to notice; your eyes are closed, and Farleigh's thumb is on your clit while the fingers he has inside of you curl lovingly into your sweet spot, "manages to escape every pair of padded handcuffs either of us have ever bought," he explains, turning his attention back to Oliver, "and she complains about metal handcuffs, and zip ties, has undone every rope knot I've ever tied, and ruined every single tie I've ever tried to tie her up with."

"I bought you new ones," your voice is faint, half a moan muffled behind Farleigh's hand, and Oliver, still unsure of how to respond to any of that, finally turns back to the two of you on the bed. There's something desperate about the way you're arching against Farleigh's firm hold on you, legs having fallen open as your hips rolled in time with his fingers, lewd and needy. But Farleigh's eyes are only on Oliver, watching him with hunger in his eyes, pupils blown wide, gaze roaming over Oliver's physique.

At the sound of your voice, Farleigh's gaze meets Oliver's his smile widening just a touch before he stops entirely. A desperate keening is pulled from you, hips shifting for friction, for anything, as Farleigh rests his hand on your thigh, fingers slick, practically dripping with you.

"No, I'll be good," you whimper, eyes fluttering, half closed, "I'll be -" you were already breathing heavy, "so so good."

"Hear that?" Farleigh murmurs with a vindictive little smile, hand uncovering your mouth, moving to hold your chin, your mouth falling open in a moan as his nails scratch up your thighs. Oliver advances on you both, entranced by the sight of you both, desperate to have a taste, to play along.

"Think she even knows how to be good?" Oliver teases, once more between your thighs. Still, instead of giving you the same kind of proper relief that Farleigh had been offering, he starts out gentle once more.

"Oliver, you're so cruel," you whimper. Farleigh's hand moves from your jaw to wrap around your middle, holding you secure, while the hand that had sat on your thigh moves to your open mouth, Oliver watches, rapt, as he slides both slick digits past your lips, but it shuts you up well enough, lips closing on his fingers as you diligently lap up your own taste from him.

"See, can't trust a word she says," Farleigh purrs. You bite gently on his fingers as you moan, Oliver finally deciding to do more than just tease you. Oliver's fingers are shorter than Farleigh's, but damn if they can't still hit the same high notes. Curling and pressing in a steady rhythm, he alternates dipping his tongue in as much as he can, and circling your clit. Farleigh's hand has moved from your mouth, spit slicked fingers pinching at your nipples, lightly dragging his nails across your skin, while he's started rolling his hips against your back, cock unbearably hard and still confined to his boxers, pressed against you.

You're whimpering and moaning in his ear, straining against your handcuffs, arching, writhing, but Oliver's holding your thighs still and secure and Farleigh is captivated by how enthusiastically he's going down on you, how its shining on his cheeks, his nose - he reaches out, cards his fingers through Oliver's hair. Oliver looks up through his lashes, a fucking gorgeous sight that you're too lost to appreciate. Just for Farleigh.

God he could say something snide, something about sloppy seconds or something about this being the most expensive meal he'll ever have, but he doesn't. He gives a sly, approving smile, and his grip on Oliver's hair tightens.

"Teeth and tongue," he tells Oliver quietly. Oliver doesn't seem to get it at first, but you choke out a whine, arching further into Farleigh, tipping your head against his.

"That's cheating," you gasped, but Farleigh kept running his fingers through Oliver's hair, whose mouth had never left your cunt, nor his eyes Farleigh's face, "you're helping him cheat; you want me to cum this early?"

"You know what's cheating?" Farleigh once more grabbed your chin, angling your head so you could watch Oliver working hard to get you off, "look at him," Farleigh murmurs in your ear, "eyes open, on his," the commanding tone was hard to refuse, and your eyes fluttered open; the fucking sight of him, a mess between your legs, Farleigh's hand in his hair, was almost enough to send you over the edge, "tell him what I mean."

"Gentle- uh, gentle teeth on me- on my-" you desperately tried to string two words together as Oliver began to get more of an idea. Farleigh's hand on his head becoming more insistent, firmer, nose pressed firm against your skin when he finally took the hint, focusing on your clit, sucking and lapping at it, teeth gently teasing as you completely lost the ability to speak. The rhythm of his fingers was consistent and firm throughout it all, pressing just right -

"Keep your fucking eyes on him," Farleigh ordered, almost snarling it into your ear, "I want you to watch Oliver Quick make you cum." But Oliver had eyes only for him, feeling you clench around his fingers, thighs pressing desperately against his shoulder and the hand that had kept them apart, he could feel Farleigh's nails on his scalp and see the heady, smug pride in his eyes.

As you start to come down, breathing hard and heavy and leaning all your weight against Farleigh, you giggle with out of breath contentment.

"Princess's got not manners," Oliver shook his head with an air of disappointment, and Farleigh smirked, brushing some hair from Oliver's forehead before he reached up and tapped your cheek gently.

"Say thank you, Oliver."

"Thank you, Oliver," you grinned, tone surprisingly sincere, as Oliver crawled up onto the bed beside you both. But there's something dark and hungry in his eyes as he watched you both; reaching out, he presses the fingers against Farleigh's lips, your cum coating them like syrup. Farleigh is more than happy to lick them clean, tongue dancing lewdly around Oliver's digits, all kinds of inuendo and promise in his eyes.

Then, Oliver's attention turns on you something dark, hungry, almost deranged in his eyes. He takes your face in hand.

"And you, princess," he says derisively, not even respecting you enough to look you in the eyes in this moment, "this is not your place that I am putting you in," god it almost sounds like a threat, but you're already squirming with want and anticipation, "but we'll get there," he squeezes your cheeks and your mouth opens on command, tongue as pink and wet and desperate as your cunt had been. He spits in your mouth, sudden sneer curling his lip, blue eyes ice cold and demeaning; "and it's thank you, Oliver Quick."

You feel fucking filthy, can taste yourself in his spit.

You want him to do it again.

"Thank you, Oliver Quick."

[miekasa]

mie.. i’m going into another eren phase.. so can you pls tell me your fav boyfie eren hcs…

Yeah, why not. I have so many random ones because he is my boyfriend <333 so here you gp

sfw

Eren doesn't actually work out all that often. He’s always been athletic, so his exercise comes in the form of playing sports, but he doesn’t really go to the gym outside of playing/practice.

Loves cake pops, more often than not “treats himself” to one after an exam or assignment, or whenever he feels like it lmfao. He basically eats it all in one bite, keeps the stick in his mouth to fidget with until he finds a trashcan. 

Likes seeing you in his hoodies because, well, it’s his hoodie on you; but mostly because of the size of the actual hood on you. He thinks it’s so funny but also pretty cute how the hood alone swallows you up. 

Grocery shopping with you is one of his favorite activities. He rarely goes by himself—if not with you, then with Mikasa or Armin—and all he really does is follow you around the store and occasionally put some stuff in the cart, but he still loves it. He likes running and then jumping on the cart like it’s a scooter. 

No matter how many makeup tutorials he watches, or how many times he watches you do your own makeup, he doesn’t really understand how it works lmfao. He likes watching it, and he thinks you look pretty if wearing makeup is your thing, but he baffles him how a little tube of concealer brightens your under eye.

Speaking of which, he sits criss cross applesauce either on your bed or on the toilet if you’re in the bathroom, while he watches you do your makeup. Counts the steps in his head, always confuses the contour and bronzer. It’s okay, he’s learning. 

He both likes and dislikes FaceTime. He likes the convenience of it (and will abuse it by calling you even tho you’ve just barely left his house), but he would much rather just go and see you; so he does. Unless there’s something keeping you apart, Eren will make the effort and the trip to go and see you, even if it’s late at night. 

He gets warm very easily, but always has some sort of coat/outerwear on him, even if it’s just a light windbreaker. He usually ends up hanging it over your shoulders or telling you to wear it because you “look cold” when he wants to take it off. 

He walks just like a half step behind you; technically still by your side, but trailing you by the tiniest amount. That way he gets to be with you and watch you, and also steer you away from anything/anyone else he sees ahead while you’re walking. 

If he notices your shoelaces are untied, he gently pokes your shoulder to get you to stop, then bends down and ties them for you. 

His phone case is brown leather, and has your initials engraved at the very bottom in a very tiny, dark green font. 

Likes walking around with you at night so congrats on having your own personal guard dog for Safety lmfaoo. Sometimes you guys don’t even talk; he just wants to hold your hand and wander around, and just be with you for a little bit. 

He is the one putting hair ties on YOUR gear shift and around YOUR wrist. Marking his territory lmfaooo

Learns to like coffee in college, and learns your Starbucks order pretty quickly. He’s got a very small addiction, but he always buys you a cup when he gets his own, so at least it’s beneficial for you. He doesn’t usually have much an extreme sweet tooth, but he takes his coffee with quite a few pumps of syrup and/or sweetener. 

Eren loves hugs, and once he starts getting them, he refuses to go with out them. Back hugs are his favorite, whether it be you hugging him from behind, or him doing it to you; either works for him, both feel like heaven. 

You know when it’s time to head home after a party/hanging with your friends because Eren will drape himself over you and gradually apply more of his body weight the more tired/drunk he gets. Regardless of whether or not he’s sloshed, he’ll still press very light and innocent kisses onto your neck and ears. 

Turns out he really likes getting kisses on his cheeks. It always takes him by surprise; his eyes widen and his eyebrows raise just a bit, but he usually evens out his expression before you pull back, so you don’t see. What you do see is the sorta glazed over, happy look in his eyes, and if you look closely, you might see his pupils dilate, too. 

He actually doesn’t mind reading, he just never thinks to read in his free time. When he does remember, and what he’s reading is interesting to him, he finishes the book pretty quickly—a few days, maybe a week at most—it’s kind of impressive. Then he goes on to not look at another book for a good five months lmfao. 

Asked you what detergent and fabric softener you used on your sheets, then bought the exact same products to do his laundry with. 

He picks you up pretty often. It’s not always tossing you over his shoulder, or carrying you bridal style, but if he needs to get to something behind you in the kitchen he’ll just. Just pick you up, turn, plop you down, get what he needs, pick you up, turn around again, and plop you right back into place. Like a doll. 

Actually very good and very meticulous when it comes to cleaning. Not a single hard water stain in sight on your dishes. Sparkling countertops and tables, your oven has never looked shinier than when he’s done with it. 

Doodles on his notes when he’s bored in class. Doodles on your notes if he’s bored in class and you’re there, too. 

He claims to not get jealous easily, but he definitely does. His methods of dealing with it are either to (a) pout (usually only happens when he gets jealous of someone you’re telling him about), (b) find an excuse to pull you away from this other person, (c) be extremely cold to this other person, (d) pretend to be sick/tired/hungry as an excuse for you to be concerned about him/dote on him in front of this other person (this is his favorite method). 

Will push your phone down/into your face if you’re laying down using it or just scrolling through your feeds. Thinks it’s peak comedy, always runs away with a little shit grin on his mouth. 

He’s always tuned into you, and sometimes physically turned to you, even in a larger conversation with other people around. Finds a way to pull you into the convo if you’ve been on the quieter side, nudges at your side under the table to bother you when you’re distracted, frequently looks at you even if someone else is talking. 

nsfw/suggestive

Eren really likes lazy sex, and it’s arguably one of his favorites; and for someone who’s not a morning person, he sure does like morning sex. He does this thing where he wakes up at like eight in the morning, starts feeling up on you, and eventually very lazily fucks you before you even have the chance to say good morning, then crashes and sleeps for another two hours. Sometimes he doesn’t pull out. 

Always gets hard when you do try on hauls of the new clothes you’ve bought; whether it be via FaceTime or in person. You could be showing him your new sweatpants, and he’ll still find it sexy. 

Can and will find time to grope you whenever possible. Getting water from the kitchen means you’re getting your ass smacked while you open the fridge. Putting on your shoes also means you’re getting your ass smacked when you bend over. Standing around debating on what to wear for the day means he’s coming up behind you to put his hands on your boobs. Doing your skincare routine in the bathroom means he’s got his hands on your hips squeezing at your skin. 

Likes being bitten. Will tell you to bite him; he’ll lean down while he’s fucking you, smile wickedly when you grab and claw at his back, and you’re gasping against his shoulder, “Wanna hurt me? Go ahead, baby, do your worst.” 

He loves making out with you, even if it doesn’t lead to sex; actually, sometimes, he prefers it that way. You make his head spin just by kissing him, and there’s a special kind of bliss of just rutting against each other without fucking that he loves. 

Lovesssss taking mirror selfie’s with you on his lap and your back to the mirror, especially right after sex. Your head resting on his shoulder and he just barely murmurs, “Stay right there, don’t move.” Might start a collection of pics like that.

Tugging on his ear acts as encouragement, but somewhat surprisingly, that sole action doesn’t necessarily turn him on; it doesn’t turn him off, and he likes it, but it’s more... soothing? than sexual to him. What you should do instead is put your hand on the back of his neck/touch the hair near his nape. 

He could have done all the work, but will still wrap you in his arms and kiss your head and tell you how good you are, how good you were to him. He really does think you fucked him 9/10 times and takes pride in it too lmaooo

Holds your jaw open with one hand, presses the index and middle fingers of his other hand against your tongue, and watches your spit pool around him. He exhales slowly at the sight, moving his fingers around to coat them evenly before pulling them out of your mouth and separating them; watches a thin line of spit connect them and groans. 

Holds you jaw a lot, actually: when you’re kissing, when you’re blowing him, when he’s on top and fucking you, when he’s fucking you from behind, he’ll pull you up with one hand, use two fingers and turn your head to the side so he can kiss you. 

It’s him that kinda loses it first most of the time; that gets that fucked out, hazy look in his eyes, that makes everything feel like too much so his head drops to your shoulder and he resorts to biting at your neck to further stimulate you. 

Likes sucking on your tongue when you kiss. Falls in love with you all over again on the spot when you do it back to him. 

You could just barely put your hands on him and Eren will groan, mutter about how you’re so sexy and how badly he wants to fuck you. Could just lay back with your chest heaving from kissing him and he’s got hearts in his eyes and his dick is hard. 

[circuscl0wn]

Some of my thoughts while watching Kinnporsche episode 11

1. Honestly if I was Pete, Vegas would’ve most definitely killed me. Cuz how are you beating my ass and then your DADDY comes and beats your ass in front of me. LIKE ARE YOU NOT EMBARRASSED??? I would’ve been laughing in his face 😭 HOW PATHETIC, he woulda been FED UP with me.

2. When vegas said “good boy, good boy” I almost barked😋😌😩 YES SIR

3. I lowkey wanted to stomp a hole through Porsche’s chest each time he kept telling kinn to not think to much about Pete. 😭😭 LIKE PLEASE GET INQUISITIVE!! Kinn KNEW it was weird for Pete to not call😭

4. Porsche looked like a child being scolded when he was brought in to talk to kinns dad about kinn loving him. It was hilarious💀 also the dude that was making up dialogue was hilarious. “My heart belongs to my boss only” LMFAOOO

5. I thought the safe house would look like some shack…but it was a MANSION WITH A LAKE VIEW???

6. WHO THE FUCK LET PORSCHE CHOOSE BODYGUARDS. He was barely good himself😭but I understand, he’s trying to make sure his man doesn’t leave him for another bodyguard.

7. That scene with porsche in the pool talking to Porschay…APO fucking ATE that scene, he was too good in that scene. It was sentimental but not over the top. Love it.

8. You could tell Pete was fucking terrified right before vegas started beating his ass. He IMMEDIATELY started making excuses about why he didn’t eat the salad when he saw vegas take off his belt. Talking bout some “well I don’t like it, I’m not hungry”, you could TELL this man was scared. He even flinched.

Me watching kinn and porsche enjoy each other’s presence while knowing my baby Pete is being tortured:

I know they don’t know…but like😭✋🏾

[waitintheelevator]

To say that I’m impressed is an understatement, blown away is underplaying it, shocked is an under reaction. Your work over exceeds my expectations every single time. I think to myself “How can Mays writing get any better?” I don’t know how! It’s crazy! Mind twisting! I was hungry for an age gap relationship and you hand fed it to me with a golden spoon. I’ve climbed the highest mountains, tip-toed over quicksand, killed five women to find an age gap story as good as this one. Where did this begin? Where did this desire for old men to love me sprout from? This desire for a wise man to guide me has sprouted out of control. This story is a watering can that is watering overgrown weeds and turning it into a lush summer sunflower. My feelings and desire have grown exponentially since I read this story. I feel new again. Healed. I look at these old men in a different light. They aren’t just sex objects, they have feelings too. There is a seed planted in me that has brought empathy and wisdom. These old men have stories. Not only are they sex objects, but they are also damaged. I’ve gotten no better taste of this damage than from Victor Layne himself. You started off this story with his age, 17, about the same age we are now. Victor is a ripe banana waiting to collect dirt and mush. His father certainly has a way of doing that. My baby Victor was abused? Immediately I thought “this is a man who needs saving” I formed a sort of protection over him…Almost like a mother…BUT WAIT! HE HAS A MOTHER! Where is she? Oh….she left him……25!!! 25….what a time to be alive! I was wondering when a female love interest would be introduced. Now that it’s happened, I wish it didn’t. I hate this bitch cunt she’s so stupid and I’m jealous of her! Maybe she reads poetry and maybe shes gorgeous but she will never be able to satisfy him. I never knew a story could bring such anger to my heart, such passion for a man that isn’t real. 28 years old! He’s marrying someone else! Okay! “Partners for life, through thick and thin, through sickness and in health….” Part of me hopes the sickness overrules their marriage! 31 years old …She’s dead 🎉🎉🎉🎉 If I’m being honest, I already knew about her death, but that didn’t make the news any less sweet. That bitch had it coming. She gave him a lighter as a gift…is that not promoting his drug usage or what???? She needs to stay 6ft underground while Victor Layne is 6 ft deep in me!!!!! 35 years old.. I should feel bad for him and his spiraling and guilt, but the more damaged the better. He’s leaving london and coming home to mama🤷‍♀️ 38 years old… IN A SMALL TOWN IN OKLAHOMA LMFAOOO. TULSA BABY!!!!! T-TOWN!!!! I wish he was real like I actually need a man so badly I’d do anything to see that guy again 😞 trying to imagine what life would be like if I never saw him. We wouldn’t have this story! I love the detail of the salt and peppered hair. This is my type in a man exactly and the way you describe him is superb. I have to admit something…I have accidentally been picturing Matty Healy this entire time and i literally feel sick to my stomach about it. He’s just on the brain…ANYWAYS 38 years old….and he already wants us….if this were real life I literally would never linger after class and talk to him but this is why I LOVE stories like this. It shows the real possibilities of the world. I know a love like this exists out there, and I will swim through shark infested waters to find it. Still 38, and ready to JUMP HIS BONES! Kidding…he found himself grunting as he was pushing into my walls..I MEAN he was grunting as he pushed open the doors to the lecture hall😅 Your description of him really does bring me back to reality. I forget that he’s an old man who aches and breaks, I want him even more. This is kind of our first look at a playful banter between them, well he’s trying to banter. The idea of handing in a paper and touches lingering is CRAZY! WHO KNEW VICTOR STILL HAD THAT DOG IM HIM😹? Picturing him teaching psychology with a button down and arm muscles is literally a dream. I need this to be my life (pt. 1)

Ummmmm white man

“You shouldn’t be here… I’m fucked up, I can’t fuck you up too.” “Who else gonna take care of you on nights like this, Mr. Layne?”

—————————————

17. Seventeen. Seventeen years old and enduring torture.

The smell of of smoke filled his lungs, mixing with the crisp, London air. Curled up on the seat on the balcony, he took a deep breath. Wind blew his loose, dark curls around as his father’s voice pierces Victor’s ears.

“You’re a fucking pansy, a cunt just like your whore bag of a mother-” Victor’s fingers shook, attempting to tune out his father’s abuse. What did a seventeen year old do to deserve this mistreatment? “You’re stupid, and you’re disgusting and worthless! You can’t even get a job, why else are you still alive?” Before the boy could flinch, a blazing hand struck him on the cheek, burning tears from his eyes.

He snapped, standing up, “What the fuck is wrong with you? Are you mentally challenged? Why do you have to be such a dick?” Victor’s voice cracked slightly, over the abuse. Years of torment by his dad fucked him up. His mom left after his dad put his hands on her, and his drinking only got worse. He would take it out on Victor, seeing his mother’s radiant life in his son.

His dad stayed quiet, a look of anger and a twinge of guilt in his eyes. “You don’t have to worry about me anymore.” He stormed inside, his dad stomping in behind him.

“You’re not gonna do anything you little bitch! You haven’t got half the balls your mother did, fag-” His words slurred, taking another sip of whatever battery acid was mixed in his cup. Victor didn’t talk back, simply shoving random clothes in a briefcase.

—————————————

25. Twenty- five. Twenty- five years old and working as a librarian in a town far from his childhood.

A beautiful lady walked up to the checkout counter.

“You like poetry?” Victor’s hand brushed up against the woman’s, their eyes locking.

“I do, I’m researching and looking for inspiration for my next book. I’m looking for a psychological yet spiritual-” Victor tuned her out stared at her, in awe of her beauty and passion for whatever she was going on about. He scanned the book, scanning her library card after. “Sorry, I ramble.” She shook her head embarrassed and red.

“Don’t be, I like your passion. I have a book you’d like. I could give it to you, if you’d let me of course.” Victor took his chance shamelessly, yet swooned the young woman. She obliged and made a plan to meet that Friday for drinks and books.

“I’m Angelica.” She held her hand out and Victor grabbed it.

“Victor.”

—————————————

28. Twenty- eight. Twenty- eight and marrying the love of his life, Angelica.

“I do.”

“I do!”

“You may kiss the bride.”

His arms wrapped around her corset- covered waist as he leaned her over for a kiss, a kiss he was specifically waiting for. Their first kiss as a married couple. Their first kiss as life long soul mates. Partners for life, through thick and thin, through sickness and health, for the rest of eternity, right?

“I got you a present, V.” She confessed, pulling out a stainless steel lighter in pristine condition.

“I’ve never met someone like you before.” Victor confessed while his head was buried in her neck while their bodies are tangled together, a thin blanket covering their bare bodies.

“Baby,” she giggled into the top of his head, wrapping her arms around him.

“I’m serious. Where would I be without you? I love you. I was lost when you found me.”

“Go to sleep, sappy boy. You’re drunk.” He smiled warmly cozying into her deeper, with not a worry in the world.

—————————————

31. Thirty- one. Thirty- one and numb at his soulmate’s funeral.

The casket was closed. It hurt him even more, not being able to see his best friend one more time. He didn’t get to say goodbye, their last words exchanged being “fuck you”. They were arguing the night before she died. Angelica hastily got in her car, driving away from him for some space. She was in an accident.

He blamed himself. It was all his fault. At least that’s what he thought. He blamed himself for everything, his mother, his father, his wife. He would never forgive himself for this.

—————————————

35. Thirty- five. Thirty- five and drunk on the side of the road.

Four years later and he still can’t forgive himself. He’s only spiraled. He couldn’t go on like this. Everything reminded him of her. The apartment with remnants of her existence, but no life to be found. It angered him, infuriated him that she didn’t have more time. Everything he touched broke, shattered and was destroyed. He couldn’t do it anymore. He needed a change. A change of scenery, a change of mind, a change of heart. He was leaving.

He left the country and went to the land of the free with nothing but a briefcase filled with cash, liquor and his gifted lighter. He was ready to leave it all behind, and he did. Except he couldn’t, he couldn’t leave behind her memory, the baggage going with him anyway.

—————————————

38. Thirty- eight. Thirty- eight and living in a small town in Oklahoma, teaching at the local college as a psychologist professor.

He was tired. He was tired and greying, salt sprinkled in his hair as a sign of aging and stress. He had a passion for psychology, but no interest in teaching it to unmotivated, newly turned adults. Unamused, he showed up to class everyday. He was bored, he was so uninterested until he saw you. After leaving behind his past life and coming here, he never interacted with people much. He never socialized in fear of what else he would destroy. He figured if he kept to himself, no one would care. That was enough for him.

Again, that was until you appeared in his class. After classes, you would linger for a moment, asking if he was alright.

“Mr. Layne, you seem tired. Long night?” You would joke, hinting at a hangover.

With not a hint of emotion on his face, he would always give a return. “Something like that.”

You always smiled at him before leaving, saying something along the lines of, you should smile more, or take a day off.

He would wonder if he was taking your interactions out of context, twisting them into something deeper, more taboo. But those thoughts would quickly leave his mind as he reprimanded himself.

—————————————

Still 38, he found himself grunting as he struggled to push open the large, heavy doors to his lecture hall. The ache in his shoulder presented nothing but a testament to his apparent aging.

8:30 A.M MONDAY, read the digital clock glowing red on the wall behind his desk. Huffing and puffing, Mr. Layne threw down his tattered, patch-covered briefcase onto his desk. He slumped himself into the chair, resting his head in his hands as he rubbed his face up and down.

His tired mind questioned him, wondering why he didn’t just quit his job to become a male stripper. Making himself chuckle dryly, he looked up at the seemingly never ending rows of seats and then back at the door as someone to have walked in. It was you.

“You’re here early. We’ve got over half an hour.” He questioned, with a faint touch of concern in his tone.

“Woke up early ‘cause of a headache, couldn’t go back to bed.” You replied with a half-assed smile, rubbing your left temple. He nodded in acknowledgement, before going to tend to whatever papers were on his desk. You glanced over at him before picking a seat in the second row up. You sat down, your eyes on Mr. Layne. Studying him, your eyes narrowed and your hands automatically supported your head up.

You wouldn’t lie, Mr. Layne looked great for his age, not that he was super old, but he exactly young either. Perfectly aged, like red wine. Pale skin implied he didn’t go outside often. His hair presented in dark, loose ringlets, yet sprinkled with white all over. They lay in a messy pattern, though it looked like he tried to tame it by combing it back. Not that it worked. His eyes seemed black with creases, with no shine or sparkle to them, it made him mysterious, made him alluring. It made you want to learn more about this inexplicable man. His nose was sharp, a light scar over the bridge, hinting to a rowdy past. He had an overgrown shave, not too thick or thin, his skin peeking through the white and auburn hair. He was attractive, sexy even.

To put a bow on it, his personality brought it together. He wouldn’t stand for nonsense, but he reciprocated jokes and light-hearted conversation to the best of his abilities. He was a great guy, but something about him was missing, that much you could tell. He didn’t seem to enjoy normal people activities, he would tell you how he doesn’t do much on the weekends and how he doesn’t go on vacations. You were determined to find out more.

“What’d you do this weekend, Mr. Layne?” You questioned, tilting your head and smiling as he looked up at you.

He thought for a moment to make it seem like he did something, even though he didn’t. “Nothing fun or important. I guess I learned a new dish.” He tried his best to give you a satisfying answer, even though he didn’t care much.

Your brows raised in amusement. “You cook?” He nodded. “Do you cook for dinner dates? Who’s the lucky girl, Victor?” You interrogated in a playful yet mischievous tone, hoping to exude some laughter from him. Even though deep down, you truly wanted to know if he had his sights on another woman.

He paused for a moment, looking down for a split second and then back up at you. “That’s Mr. Layne to you, miss. And no, no lucky woman,” He had a soft smile, a soft smile that you deemed superficial.

Your mind wandered, truly confused that a man this attractive, smart, funny, and talented is single. You jumped to the most simple and basic conclusions, he’s either divorced or deemed himself too worthy for anyone. I could change that, you thought.

The silence once again filled the room as more people began spilling into the room, just in time for lecture. As he went on to teach, you would find your eyes stray on him and not the board. You would watch him as he paced back and forth, watched the way his buttoned shirt clung tightly in some areas, like his arms. Occasionally, you would lock eyes with him, just as any professor would make eye contact with his students. But this wasn’t normal, this was longer. This was playful, at least to you. When he would look up at you, you would look him up or down, or bite the top of your pen, or put on chapstick, slowly.

He tried to keep composed, but you could see his brow twitch slightly before furrowing. He knew it was wrong and he shouldn’t give in. But it wouldn’t hurt to wonder, he thought. In his defense, he hadn’t held anyone in years.

Interactions like this would go on, hot and heavy. Sensual glances and a second-too-long hand touches while handing in papers. Once, you even stayed after class, attempting to ask him for help. Basking in the thought he would maintain solidity, he agreed. It was all innocent play at first. Arm touches and swats, flirty yet disguisable compliments. Arm touches turned into thigh caresses, and undercover compliments into blatant flirting, surprisingly from both sides. But he stopped himself before he had done something he regretted. These kind of days drove him crazy. It would make him stay up till 2 A.M, causing him to sip on his drink way past happy hour. It would make his cock twitch at 3 A.M, the thought of you shamefully turning him on in the best most taboo way. He couldn’t handle these contrasting emotions anymore, it was wrecking him.

—

That red glowing clock shone the numbers, 3:56 P.M. FRIDAY Mr. Layne strode around the front of the room, closing up the book in his hands. Sweat trickled down the side of his head and slipped down into the collar of his shirt, leaving its journey down his probably toned body up to your imagination.

His gruff voice snapped you out of your day dream as he spoke, “That’s all for today. Just read the last chapter in your textbook for homework over the weekend. You. Stay after class.” He looked straight at you with a large finger directing at you. He was duller than usual today. Dark half circles pulled at the bottom of his eyes. You gulped any last ounce of anxiety before nodding and picking up your bag to make your way over to his desk. He simultaneously walked to his desk at the same time as you, staring dead at you as you did. He stared at you, not looking away while everyone left the class. His expression was unreadable, just like every other time, except this time, his eyebrows were scrunched. Your heart thumped a bit harder than usual. You looked up at him through your lashes, still subconsciously attempting to seduce him, accidentally of course.

He glanced over to the side, making sure everyone has left. The second the last person left, he turned to you immediately, getting closer. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

You tilted your head, getting an idea of what he was talking about but decided to find out more. “What’re you talking about, Mr. Layne?” your face contorted into a façade of confusion, looking up at him.

“Just stop, stop. The looks, the conversations, all of it. It’s not right.” He huffed, now closer than ever. Even in his moment of anger, you couldn’t help but notice how good he looks with a bead of sweat collecting on his temple. His accent did a number on you as well.

“It doesn’t necessarily feel… wrong.” You shrugged, biting the inside of your cheek, holding back a smirk. You could tell you had an effect on him. What kind of effect? You couldn’t tell. His breathing matched yours, if not heavier than yours. He licked his lips unknowingly, still angry. He suddenly shook his head, as if he just snapped out of it.

He chuckled in disbelief at himself as he took a step back and turned around, in shock he would even think things like this.

“What are you afraid of? You can’t just sit here and blame me after you felt it too-” You ask, in hopes of a solid answer. This conversation had made you wonder if you just had created all the other interactions up in your mind, if you were just delusional and convinced yourself he wanted you.

He just shook his head with his eyes closed. “No. I’m gonna- no!” He stopped himself. “You need to go, I cannot deal with this. It’s my wife’s anniversary and I have places to be-” He stopped himself as the word of his wife slipped out of his mouth. If you recalled right, he had told you he didn’t have one. That gave you all the solidity you needed about him and you.

“You told me you didn’t have a wife. That proves me right, you lied about being single, why else would you lie?”

“Please just go.” He cut you off, turning back around. You both stared at each other, your mouth slightly agape. Huffing, you stomped out, rightfully embarrassed. It was humiliating, you thought you had misinterpreted everything and ended up looking stupid. You went home in shame. Mr. Layne however, began his descent to the local bar downtown.

His wife’s anniversary, he called it, wasn’t what you thought. He wasn’t celebrating their wedding, it was her death date. And every year on this day, he would get absolutely shitfaced in replacement of visiting her grave and mourning her death appropriately. Subconsciously, he had hoped that one day, he would get so wasted that he would hit his head and forget it all, all of it, from his dad to his deceased wife. He didn’t even know if he loved her the same, all the years of drinking corroded his brain and scrambled his feelings. But he liked to drink in her memory, out of respect of course. Because no matter how he decided to feel about her, whether that be love or no feelings at all, they both had a life together at some point and he owed her that recognition.

And so that led him here, in the local bar running on a couple glasses of whiskey with no intention to stop anytime soon. He had intended to get absolutely drunk. A song play softly in the background, something about romance and spewing love letters. It sort of made him sick to his stomach. He took a swig of his current drink and sputtered in anger, “Can we change the fucking song?” He didn’t even know what he was doing, it was like his body had a mind of its own.

The barkeep replied, cleaning a glass, “No, sorry sir. The songs are played randomly, it isn’t in my hands.” The boy-ish bartender shrugged with a crooked smile, hoping that the drunk man in front of him would not make a scene. He went up to piss, grabbing his belt and adjusting as he did. On his way there, he bumped into a blonde man holding a tray of beers. They bumped shoulders which caused the man to spill the drinks.

“The fuck man? Watch where you’re going!” the blonde spoke in a booming voice, but not enough to be considered yelling.

Feeling a bit tipsy, Victor didn’t even know what he was saying. “What’re you gonna do about it?” If he wasn’t irritated and in a haze of emotions, he would never act like this, he was a good man at heart.

The blonde pushed Mr. Layne, causing him to stumble backwards into a table. In a bitter, vengeful manner, he punched the man. That punch caused all hell to break loose. The other man began to punch him back and they started to brawl in the middle of this busy bar. The blonde man ended up jabbing him right in the nose and managed to cut him across his face, a single long cut splaying out across his cheek to his lip. In retaliation to that, Victor punched him right in the cheek, spit flying from the mans mouth with blood coupled along with it. He could’ve sworn he heard a tooth chip. They both got hits in before ending up on the floor shamelessly. Victor got on top of him ,straddling the man on his stomach while punching him. It wasn’t long before a couple workers and the owner of the bar showed up to break them apart. They peeled them apart as their limbs still flailed in a pathetic attempt to break free to hit once more.

“Are you fucking kidding me? Get out!” The owner yelled, practically throwing Victor out of the bar. The blonde man ended up right beside him. “Don’t come back!”

“Your bar fucking sucks anyway!” Mr. Layne yelled back as the owner shut the door. They both sat on the floor panting heavily as people turned their heads, peering at the spectacle. “Cunt.” Victor muttered out as he pulled out a pack of smoked from his pocket. He placed one between his lips before giving one to the bruised man sitting next to him. Pulling out the old, scuffed stainless steel lighter, he lit up his own cig and then he man’s. He got up, then held out a hand to the blonde man to help him up. And then he walked away and that was the end of that. He had hoped to never see him again. Nights like these messed with his head. He wasn’t himself. It was very out of character for him.

He didn’t know what to do, he didn’t want to go home but he was too tired and kind of in pain to go to another bar.

So he just walked downtown. He took a drag, pain taking over his bruised ribs as he inhaled and exhaled. He coughed while he exhaled the smoke, his whole torso throbbing. He sat down on some bench under a street light that was next to a club and just smoked. The muffled music filled his ears and his brain felt like it pulsed to the beat of the music. He could feel tiny drops of blood tricking down his body and his face but he just did not care.

Unbothered, he sat there, smoking. Until he heard a familiar voice from down the side walk. “Mr. Layne?” It was you. You jogged up to him, concerning swarming over your face as you see the beat up state he was in with crimson pooling at the corner of his mouth and the cuts and bruises. “What the hell happened to you?”

He wasn’t sure if he was hallucinating or not. It was like an angel was sent from heaven for him, as if the god’s knew he needed help. He looked up at you like a lost little boy who finally found his mother.

“Are you really here?” His hands reached out to grasp you, double checking your existence. You couldn’t help but chuckle a bit, seeing him in this state like a child. You took a seat next to him and you both faced each other.

“What did you do to your face?”

“Some idiot at the bar. Got him back though-” he spat, wiping off blood from his cheek. “Why are you here?”

“It’s Friday night. I’m obviously gonna be out-” you rolled your eyes somewhat playfully and you couldn’t help but notice his weight shift, like he was loosening up. But then you remembered the incident that happened only a couple hours ago. He didn’t seem to remember, it was the least of his worries. You both just sat there for a moment, thoughts ran through your head. You obviously couldn’t leave him here. “Um, are you gonna get home okay? Where’s your wife?” You ask, leaning your head down to look him in the eyes. When he heard you ask about his wife, he just ignored it. Odd.

He paused and nodded, imagining slugging himself alone once more. “I guess. Yeah I’m all good.” the cigarette butt fell under his foot and became squashed with a shimmy of his foot.

You thought for a moment, deciding he needed someone to clean him up. “No, can I help get you home? At least clean you up a little.” you questioned very quietly. Secretly, this was your attempt to see his home, but it would also be you helping him. Win-win.

He also thought for a moment, his brows scrunching up in an expression you couldn’t read. “Okay,” was all he said before you both got up. “We can walk from here.”

“Fine by me.”

And now you both were here, walking side by side in silence, yet surrounded with chatter from civilians on the street, yet the silence was still unbearably loud.

“What was the fight over?” you asked, in hope of an answer and also to rid of the silence.

“It’s so idiotic.” He chuckled dryly, shaking his head and looking down at his feet with his hands in his pocket.

Your eyes peeked over at him, noticing he was still in the same outfit he was in when you guys shared that moment. The top couple buttons were loose while his tie hung around his neck un-tied. Disheveled black and silver hair lay against his sweat ridden forehead. “I’m sure it was very… cut worthy?” You joked with an amused smile.

That earned you a light laugh. He pulled out another smoke from his pocket and placed it between his lips while he brought out his lighter. He spoke through his teeth with the cig still in his mouth. “Trust me, it was not.” You grinned.

Innocently, you looked over at him as he lit his up with that same old lighter. “Can I have one?”

He peered at you. “They’re bad for you, don’t you know that?” He asked, an almost non-existent smirk splaying onto his face.

You shrugged. “’S fine. Makes me feel good.” He raised a brow, an idea jumping into his head. He took one out and handed it to you and watched intently as you put it between your faded red lips. You both stopped walking so he could light yours up, he brought it up to the tip of it, the heat of fire radiating onto your face.

You took a drag. “Thank you Mr. Layne.” You smiled, once again very innocently. It was like a game.

The walk went on, hands ghosting against each other and silly peeks and peers. It was playful. But before you knew it, you both were at the doorstep of his apartment. The street light hummed softly as he unlocked the door and stepped in with you right behind him.

Immediately, the first thing you noticed was the smell. There was a faint scent of cologne swirled with smoke. He turned on the lights, a yellow-orange light lit up the living room. He had a corduroy sofa with an ashtray on the coffee table. He kind of stood there, it was an awkward moment before you decided to break the deafening silence. But then you looked around for evidence of a woman living here.

“Why aren’t you with your wife? I thought it was your anniversary?” You questioned. Once again no answer. In hopes of an answer, you asked him for his first aid kit. He pointed to a cabinet in the kitchen and you followed behind him. There was a small breakfast table in the corner and he took a seat there while you grabbed the kit and pulled up a chair in front of him.

You placed it on the table and opened it up, grabbing stuff to clean his face up.

“I’m fine really,” He sighed, rubbing his temples. Shaking your head, you pulled out a sterilizing pad to clean his wounds. You ripped it open with your teeth and tossed the wrapper on the table.

“You’re kidding right? You’ve got a black eye and gash from your cheek to your lip. And you’re probably bruising god-knows-where.” You brought it up to his eyebrow, wiping the little wound. He sucked in a sharp breath, shutting his eyes. “It’ll only hurt worse.” You continued to clean his face, but grabbed a new one after it got soiled. In the downtime, you could feel his burning gaze on your skin, heat rising to the top. You looked up, eyes catching his. You both looked at each other. It wasn’t awkward, but his face showed… guilt?

He took in a breath before he spoke, “This is wrong.” He shook his head “This is inappropriate.” You knew he wasn’t talking about cleaning his wounds, but the fact that you, his student, was in his home past hours, touching his face.

Face flat, you responded, “Listen, I’m not gonna sit here and convince you, but you just can’t deny that you didn’t feel.. something, anything. Because that would be a lie, not to me, but yourself. Victor you’re lying to yourself. But it’s fine, You’re right. I know it’s wrong now, you’re married and-”

He cut you off. “She’s dead.”

You paused and looked him in the eyes, which only made him look down. “Huh?”

“My wife, she’s dead.” You were confused.

Huh.. I thought he said…?

“I thought-”

“Well I didn’t say she was alive.” He closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. “I said it was her anniversary, her death anniversary.”

You were shocked. “Oh, I’m sorry.”

He brushed it off as nonchalantly as he could, shrugging it off. “Nah, it’s okay, I’m okay.”

“You don’t look okay. Is it a coincidence that you got messy on her anniversary?”

“If I’m being honest, no.” You shook your head, expecting that answer. It went silent again. It seemed silence was a reoccurring instance between you two. But this time, the absence of sound was more mournful, more comforting, for him at least.

“You shouldn’t be here… I’m fucked up, I can’t fuck you up too.” He was lying to himself and you could see right through him. He wouldn’t stop you if anything happened…

“Who else gonna take care of you on nights like this, Mr. Layne?” You looked up at him through your eyelashes like you always do, fluttering your eyes and slightly wetting your lips. “You deserve care and love too.”

In all seriousness, you knew this was wrong. Seducing your professor on a day special to him? Crazy. But could anyone blame you? How could anyone resist the husky, beat up man who’s grunting and panting?

His eyes locked with yours as his tongue swiped against the corner of his mouth, swiping the somewhat dried blood away. Neither of you knew what happened, but an unknown force took over both of you. Something unnatural took over you, causing both of you to lean forward, lips touching.

It was absolutely electric. Shocking. Painful, for him at least. So wrong but so fucking good at the same time. The fact that it was so inappropriate made it feel even better. You deepened the kiss, testing the waters by pushing your tongue against his lips. Reluctantly, he obliged. From there on it only got better.

Your hands found your way into his unkept hair, tugging softly as your teeth clashed and your tongues fought for dominance. Your chairs ended up scooting closer together and your knees were touching, but it didn’t stay like that for long. Hands still in his hair, you both raised up and you ended up against his wall with a knee between your legs.

He was panting you were scrunching your legs together. He looked so good like this, sweaty with his shirt half done and his belt ready to come undone. You could feel it between your legs, feel him.

“Tell me to stop.” He broke away from you, a roguish twinkle in his eyes appearing. “Tell me to stop, please. If I keep going, I’m gonna do something I’ll regret.” Your response to him was to grab his face and place your lips where they belong, on top of his.

He couldn’t even think straight anymore. He couldn’t even think about the magnitude of his actions, how much it would affect him the next morning, but none of that mattered at the moment. None of that mattered when he had a beautiful young woman ready to be putty in his hands.

Your hips rolled against his knee, subliminally yearning for some sort of friction. Your action didn’t go unnoticed by him. You could hear him mutter under his breath, something along the lines of, so needy.

It was almost as if he was scared to touch you. Scared that something would happen. He didn’t know why. It might have been the underlying guilt.

“I won’t break,” your words came out a soft pant, looking up at him.

A tiny smile snuck onto his face and you noticed.

He had guided you to his room, articles of clothing littering your bee line there. His tie, your shirt and his. You were flat on his bed and was on top of you, his face buried in your neck as he sucked and nibbled.

It has been practically forever since he got some, but he stayed just as skillful as he was in his 20′s. Thank god for that. You were seeing stars just with him leaving purple marks on your neck. He got up for a moment, eyes scanning all the way down. His chest was heaving up and down and just like always, sweat dripped down his temple. His eyes drooped low, you couldn’t tell if he was drunk off alcohol or you. His burning gaze made you feel small. It was almost predatorial, the age gap didn’t help. You felt controlled, but it turned you on. He wouldn’t lie and say he wasn’t turned on either, but he couldn’t help but feel a small twinge of guilt.

Eyes locked with yours, his hands found his way to the hem of your bottoms, ripping them off to reveal your white panties. His fingers fumbled with the edge of them, eventually pulling them down and exploring his way around your heat. His fingers teased, ghosting touches against your thighs just like you would tease him in class. The sight of him above you drove you wild. And your imagination was right, he was fit.

“Remember all those times you would tease me during class and get away with it?” A pathetic mewl left your mouth in response to his condescending tone, back arching in hopes of his fingers to touch you. God his accent was so hot. Everyday you thanked God for British people.

“Please..” the way he had you begging before he even touched you was filthy.

A scoff left his mouth, a finger softly caressing right above your clit. You couldn’t take anymore. He mercifully started to rub your bud softly, watching your face intently as he did. Gasps filled his ears as he picked up the pace. You could feel your skin burning as he slid in a finger, earning a sweet whine from your cherry stained lips.

“Shit, faster.” According to your request, he added another finger and pumped faster, his hand rhythmically rubbing your clit simultaneously. Everything about him was perfect and everything you learned about him only proved you right. He was hot, can cook, teaches, respectful, AND good with his hands? It only made you wonder what his dick could do. It only made you want to cum on his hand faster.

Praises fell from his mouth as he watched your face scrunch, he could tell your getting closer.  You squeezed around his finger. “C’mon baby, let it go now.” it only pushed you over the edge as you coated his fingers. You pulsed around him and he groaned. His cock strained through his jeans, hardened against his thigh. You whimpered softly as he pulled his fingers out, and you still clenched around nothing. He wasted no time, hands going straight to his belt.

He ripped it off and swung it across the room like a cowboy, letting his pants down and his cock spring free. You sat up on your elbows and watched him while he was perched between your legs, pumping himself.

The sight just made you salivate. His cock in his hands while he watches you writhe beneath him,  succumbing to submission. Who knew sleeping with your professor would be the best decision you make all year.

Your back arched, shamelessly begging for him. He knew what you were asking for and if he wasn’t so ready, he would’ve made you work for it. But he was willing to be nice. He positioned himself perfectly, and pushed himself in right when you least expected it. It made you yelp. His thrusts were perfectly, periodically timed.

Your legs wrapped around him as his head found its place in your neck, once again nibbling. He was big you wouldn’t lie, it made tears prick at your eyes. Loud whimpers and groans filled the room as well as the creaking of the bed.

“Fuck, Victor-” You panted out, head cloudy.

His pace slowed down dramatically and you, once again, whimpered pathetically.

“Mr. Layne.” Props to him for keeping it professional.

“ ‘M sorry, Mr. Layne, move please.” You pleaded, how could he say no to such a face? But it wouldn’t hurt to tease.

“God, always so fucking disrespectful, calling your teacher by his first name… do you really deserve it?” He made a domineering face, a fake puppy dog expression.

“Please, I’m sorry, please fucking move,” he enjoyed watching you squirm on his dick, he was a filthy man. You had no idea someone like him could be like this.

So he began moving, faster than last time. Vulgar noises of skin slapping grew louder as he snaked his hand down your body, toying at your clit. His grunts became groans and your whimpers became moans as you both creeped closer and closer. The noises were obscene. The room was filled with wet, slapping noises and breathless moans. The knot in your stomach churned and twisted tighter as his fingers rubbed merciless circles on your clit. You could feel him hit your sweet spot, harder and deeper every time.

“Fuck, so good s’ good,” he repeated his praises and breathed out your name like a mantra. One last rub of his fingers and thrust of his hips had you seeing white and your back arched higher than you thought it could reach. You pulsed and fluttered around his dick and that only pushed him over the edge. He pulled out and came on your stomach, spurting hot ropes over you.

Mutters of oh my god, and fuck came from both of you, still not sure of who said what. Your name fell from his lips like it was the last thing he’d ever say. He flopped down on the bed beside you and sleep hit you like a truck. Your eye lids pulled immediately, your body very obviously tired from fucking. You had thought to get up to use the bathroom, but you fell asleep.

Mr. Layne however, could not fall asleep at all. He got a rag to clean your stomach while you slept, it only soothed you into deeper sleep. After that, however, he didn’t know what to do.

He felt sick, psychically ill and guilty. Regret and shame flooded his mind as he slipped on a pair pajama pants made his way to the balcony in his bedroom, grabbing a smoke. The whole scene took him back, him sitting on a balcony on a windy night while the stench of alcohol and cigarettes filled his nose, like the night he left when he was 17. He looked over at you through the glass, body covered with his blanket and your hair all messy, yet still so pretty.

He hated it, he hated how he did this. He felt like a bad person. He took a drag and blew it out and rested his face in his hands.

“Fuck.” He didn’t know what he would do tomorrow morning. He wanted to tell you to leave and that this was a mistake, have you transferred out of his class. But subconsciously, another part of him wanted to stick his dick in your mouth first thing tomorrow morning. He would cross that bridge of shame when he got to it.

[taylorkellyreporting]

live-blogging is apparently something i’ll never stop doing no matter how hard i try lmfao

this right here means everything to me i don’t even care that he’s in love with claire right now if i can survive young and hungry i can survive anything

claire’s little rose cake is so cute

MY PEOPLE

e.t in a wig? 😭

“the whole thing takes place inside a closet” PLS

he saved her LIFE they’re endgame idc idc i’m believing it until it’s physically impossible

her little smile while thinking about her feelings for grant oh she’s got it bad

his little smile too? and the closed door? i know this scene probably isn’t going to be what i’m expecting but a girl can (and will) dream

“yikes! grant asked chelsea for a favor” aaand the slow burn is back on lmao

“you go first” sorry but if that were me and the thing i had to say was that i have feelings for the person i’m talking to, you bet your ass i’m going first.

ohhh the devastating realization on her face i hate it here i forgot how painful slow burns are

y’all better be writing au’s for this scene i want fics where that closed door leads to something else

“i told marley he was a little bitch, you know, flirting to get things flowing” skfjfjckcks

“easy tiger! i don’t wanna have to hose down the sofa” 😭

“the tops need bottoms, the bottoms need tops!” “they should try switching, works for me” WOAH 😭 jayden being a switch was not something i needed confirmed but good for him! good for him

they both have daddy issues lmfaooo

“oink, oink, baby!” i’m sorry???😭😭💀

chelsea and her little smile while talking about grant oh she likes him so much

yeah…

“claire is a wonderful, sweet person who deserves love” SO! DO! YOU!

“you really think i should?” oh her face i’m sick

never thought a hug between them would cause me so much pain

“and how’s your crush on grant?” i audibly gasped

solana is right, chelsea really should be single for right now. as much as i want her and grant together, she should really just go out there and have fun for a bit before committing to a relationship with anyone.

grant’s future love confession to chelsea is gonna hit so hard

there are no winners here

hoping that claire turned him down because she has feelings for someone else not because she’s scared

grant and chelsea in their pining eras except grant’s pining for claire! :) smiling :) through :) the :) pain :)

when we get a future scene where grant acts like an idiot in love with chelsea i will know peace

“thank you glaad co-chair” 😭😭

if grant ends up on the same dating app and matches with chelsea literally nothing will convince me that they aren’t endgame sorry

well. forgot that he’s a hot guy with people lined up to date him lmao

“on the one hand, kinda boho. on the other, kinda homo.” help 😭

pause! tapping into the delusional shipper side of me for a moment. did grant seem…idk. not too thrilled when chelsea was telling him about the guy she was talking to? like his facial expression’s were a bit off…

“you’re supposed to be straight-bait, not conversion therapy” the laugh i just let out please 😭

“my sister and i will each have a gin & tonic. in one glass. with two straws” oh what in the f.r.i.e.n.d.s. is going on here?

the twirl 😭😭

“houston, we have a homo” jayden really is the funniest bitch on this show argue with the wall

that “wtf?” look chelsea and grant just shared lmfao

oh i hope this continues to work out for jayden he deserves it truly

awww shit. she does have feelings for grant

kay she says one thing but her face says another. hoping this dave dude helps her move on cos they could be so cute together

just date each other

“goodnight, grant.” “goodnight, chelsea.” sjfjfjfnjd mutually pining era coming soon????

i know grant feels something for her, i know he does. his facial expressions say everything without him ever actually having to say anything

oh this opening scene means everything to me

oh jayden definitely had a glow up

their drinking game is something i’d totally play

chelsea is terrible at this 😭

chelsea immediately caving and saying she’ll play the game all because grant put his hand on her back and said it’d mean so much to him if she played??? oh she’s weak for him she’s down so bad and who can blame her

“you’ve been talking about her all day” HA!

oh his face after saying he’s just excited for chelsea to join in…my man had a feelings realization huh?

so most of this episode is going to be them running around looking for cody mail? i know it’s gonna be hilarious

his gnome? 😭

i too would break the law if grant walked up to me like that

“ramona and i were roommates but to me she was…so much more” the chelsgrant of it all

anyone: *talks*

me: how can i make this about chelsgrant?

THE GLANCE GRANT THREW AT CHELSEA AFTER CODY SAID HE FELL IN LOVE WITH RAMONA??? ENDGAME BITCHES

i hope they’re right about ramona cos i don’t think cody is gonna handle the broken heart well

YOU’RE ONE OF MY FAVORITE PEOPLE

i am on such a high right now

his mother?? 😭💀

that dance scene is comedy gold

oh that scene between jayden and jasmine was everything!! i hope the writers continue to grow their relationship throughout the series

chelsea working out with grant i’m gonna love this

not solana gaslighting jayden and claire 😭

knew she wasn’t in a cult but solana practicing law again was not something that i was expecting

her real name is alison. okay.

I COULD JUST KISS YOU RIGHT NOW

just took the sharpest intake of breath

SHUT THE FUCK UP

the writers are sick. just sick.

that opening scene made my heart stop and for what

ohhhhhhhh this hurts

my guy got rejected by both sisters i just know he’s sick

awww grant and clair had a meet cute 🥺

she most likely still has feeling for him and i’m most likely going to fling myself off a building 😃

“he’s not dead like we were hoping” fngjfjdks

“and we’re back, baby, hell yes!” why is this grandpa literally me

“this is all such a mess” you have no idea

“if i sit here any longer, i’m gonna kiss you” do it! do it! i am begging you to do it!

ohhh my girl’s so happy why does it have to end 😩

WHAT. THE. FUCKKKK!!!??!?!?!?!

well that cliffhanger is going to be all i think about for the coming future 🙃 not losing hope. like i said earlier, it’s about the slow burn. we’ll get there eventually! chelsea and grant’s dynamic and chemistry is too good to do nothing with. it’s the long con.

this show is hilarious and i truly hope it comes back for a season two bc it deserves it.

[90sbokuto]

— “ how the boys deal w / jealousy ”  

including: ushijima, iwaizumi and tsukki

genre: angst

tags: angst and violence 

warning: slight violence and language 

— ushijima wakatoshi

-    not very confrontational , since his presence intimidates many anyway 

-    you came to one of his games and after it was over , you went to the vending machine to get snacks 

-    he’d be coming that way for the locker room anyway , so not only could you see your favorite ace but share a lil snack together 🥺

-    some guy comes up to you and begins to ask if he can have your number ..

-    you say no and ignore him and then he tries to put his arm around you 

-    “ well it doesn’t seem like you have a boyfriend or anything , so why not sweetheart.. “

-    ushi sees this AND sees you trying to get away from the dude

-    he literally walked out the gym to see you trying to get away from a guy that has his arm around you

-    but this mans blood is boiling now .. he do be mad tho 😗

-    extra points if they lost the game before ... it would NOT end great

-    “ is there an issue here ? “ ushi asks

-     the guy stops for a moment and you get away from the guys grasp

-     “ no .. who are you anyway ?” the guy spits out , thinking he’ll go toe to toe with him 

-      the ANGER in ushijima’s eyes literally became more intense , it even scared you a little bit

-     “ i’m her boyfriend .. so who are you ?” 

-      the guys face flushes as the mood changed , and he begins to stutter before profusely apologizing and leaving the two of you alone

-      “ thanks baby ”

-       “ you’re welcome.. are you okay ”

-       you nod and open the bag of chips you got to share 

— iwaizumi hajime

-    the two of you went to a carnival together !

-    ferris wheel , cotton candy , all that fun stuff :)

-    after a while though , you guys got hungry and iwaizumi offered to get food

-    while he was going to get food , you found a little table to sit at and a guy came up to you as you were on twitter

-    “ so what’s a pretty girl like you doing , sitting here alone ? ”

-    “ oh uh , i’m just waiting for my boyfriend to come back with some food .. ” you said , not even looking up at this guy 

-     and then he sat next to you and you scooted away awkwardly

-     “ well let’s see if you’re boyfriend is actually around then , princess ” the guy said snarkily

-      little did this guy know , heard this incident unfold as he was walking toward the table

-      “ how many times does she have to say she’s not interested ?” 

-      the guy turned around and jolted a bit

-      there iwaizumi was with two plates of food

-      “ and i’m the boyfriend , only i call her princess .. ”

-      “ my bad bro , ” the guy began as iwa put the food down on the table

-      “ you’re just lucky you get to hit that ..” he finished , putting his hand on iwa’s shoulder before walking away

-       you had never seen a sucker punch so SWIFT

-       AND THIS MANS ARMS WHEWWWW

-       long story short , they brawled before you were able to break it up but thank god a lot of people weren’t around that area

-        iwa did have to walk around with hello kitty bandaids on his knuckles though lmfaooo , but best believe he wasn’t going to let someone degrade you like that 

— tsukkishima kei 

-    look , he’s already semi-annoyed 24/7 so can you imagine .. if he’s gotta deal with someone trying to bother his s/o

-     ESPECIALLY ON A DATE 

-     so on your two year anniversary , he took you to a restaurant

-     and at first he thought the waiter was just being friendly to the both of you

-     until he called you "beautiful” and then tsukki and you started laughing super uncomfortably

-     you were VISIBLY uneasy and tsukki picked up on this super fast

-     you know that simpsons meme that’s like “i’m in danger” ; yeah that was how the waiter should’ve felt when his demeanor changed

-      the waiter still didn’t take the HINT

-      “ so what can we get you tonight sir? ” he asked tsukki

-      tsukki reluctantly placed his order and then the waiter asked you what you would like 

-     “ and what about you , my lady ”

-     feral tsukki???

-     this literally made him want to flip the table and burn this man to an absolute crisp

-     but it’s tsukki , and his remark was cold , blunt and got through to the guy

-     he chuckled a little before , 

-     “ i mean it IS kinda funny , cause she’s on a date with her boyfriend of two years , but go ahead sweetie , what do you want for dinner ” 

-     he smirked and his voiced had gone deeper dear god 

-     the waiter (thankfully) took the hint 

-     but you were NOT about to stop clowning him for intimidating the poor guy when you got home

[hxnmantii]

Aight, ima hit you with random numbers now.

9, 15, 30, 31, and 43

You love me🥺

9. what do you think your first impression of them would be?

“Damn he’s cute and he eats a lot......I wonder if I could beat him in an eating contest..” (—spoiler I have a bird’s appetite so no I can not beat him in an eating contest😭)

15. who gets more embarrassed by physical affection?

Are you kidding me?? Do you know who he?? He’s the king of PDA lmfaooo and I’m clingy and crave physical contact 25/8 so neither of us

In fact we’re like the couple that makes you cringe because neither one one lacks shame when it comes to physical affection.

31. who would prefer cooking? cleaning? baking? none of the above?

For cooking- him. We would have to get a bigger kitchen but he loves to cook and knows how to make a recipe his (I know how to cook but I’m nowhere as good as him) there’s a reason why restaurants beg him to come taste their food and people hang off of every criticism he says

Cleaning- this is neither, I don’t particularly care for cleaning and neither does he but every Sunday, once that music start playing, we both know what time it is

Baking- that’s all me baby. I have a huge sweet tooth not to mention my moms a baker so naturally I got her skills

43. who would probably get sick more often? who would baby the other when sick? who acts like they’re dying when they get a stuffy nose?

Mmmm that’s a tuff question since I don’t normally get sick and neither does he.,,,,but when he does get sick he is the most over dramatic big baby😭 be clinging on to my waist so I won’t go anywhere but then complains about being hungry😭 (it’s always a bit more concerning when he gets sick because even with a stuffy nose, he deflates significantly)

“Darlin’ please I’m dyin....just put me out of my misery.”

“If you would let me go lovebug, I could make you some soup”

“Can’t you do it from here”🥺

“Tai.....we’re in the bedroom”

[aurltas]

author interview tag (!)

aaAAAA ty to @backcountry-deltora for tagging me!!! much loveee <333 i haven’t been looped into a tag game for so so long and this is making me feel 10000% better about the fact that i have not written a single fic related thing in MONTHS o)-( but i love to talk about writing and myself so here we go,,

Name: i went by crystal silvera on ffn and here for the longest time so a lot of ppl know me as crystal but my Real(TM) name is dani and my ao3 name is auritas so like take ur pick haha

Fandoms: currently in mxtx hell (im a mdzs main, to the shock of no one) but my og fandoms that i am still very much attached to are deltora quest (the OG og), young wizards, the raven cycle, and yuri on ice

Where you post: ao3 alllll the way babey (but i originated from ffn and still have some stuff up there.......it’s Not Good tho)

Most popular one-shot: oh boy i knew this was gonna be a popular one bc i only wrote like?? rambly reflective thematic pieces(?) before this, my First Attempt At Fluff lmao. even then, But we’re alive (because we bleed) still exceeded my expectations by far in terms of reception, probs bc mdzs was such an up and coming fandom at the time and i posted it right on the crest of that cql wave

Most popular multi-chapter fic: obviously where the light goes, also known as my beloved CHILD !!!! i don’t write multichaps anymore but this is 2 long ass chapters so ig that’s Technically a multichap haha,,, yeah i knew this one was gonna be popular for the same reasons as the previous one + the very intentional tipping of the scale i did here with the balance of fluff and other things. like this is just pure distilled sugar it’s so so fluffy

Favourite story you’ve written so far: oh mannnn i gotta say where the light goes. especially that first chapter, just,, damn. what was i ON ?? its so good!! what the heck!!! quite proud of my metaphor work there, even if balancing prose/poetry feel is very stilted at times . in terms of that balance i think i did a Really good job with and neither did the both of us bc i went back and reread where the light goes for inspiration and i was like “oh god this is DROWNING in metaphors i need to lighten it up a little”

Fic you were nervous to post: i was nervous about where the light goes bc i had such high expectations going in, like i Knew people were craving what i had but i was like, did i do it right?? will this be my breakthrough in the mdzs fandom??? and it sort of was and sort of wasn’t, which,, fair. also SUPER nervous for astriferous bc i had written it all in like, one (1) day and it was for an exchange LMFAOOO (and you can really tell it was all written in one go......it was only when i hit the end that it got Good)

How you choose your titles: when i write fic i’m often scrapbooking a TON of different things together so titles are often just whatever it is i’m already drawing from. there are a few exceptions, like here, then, begins the mending, or and i need nothing more where a phrase popped into my head during the writing/drafting/brainstorming process and i was like OH THAT’S REALLY GOOD. TITLE IT IS

Do you outline?: usually only if it’s plot-driven, like my (incomplete for . Reasons) (ok i was being pestered bc i took it as a prompt and my promptee was. hm) YW multichap equilibrium, for which i outlined EVERYTHING. it was so annoying but i also lowkey liked it because these were MY messy outline notes and i could go as ham as i’d like

Complete: everything that’s posted !! except equilibrium ofc . that’s gonna stay where it is unless by some miracle of nature i get my momentum back for it

In progress: i am working on another jaslief oneshot!!! and for my mdzs folks i have been working on a rly long lesbian songxiao oneshot for a Very long time and it’s . mwah (i showed it to one of my friends and she lost her mind so i think i can say that with confidence)

Coming soon: probably nothing until i’m released from ochem/thesis hell hahahahahahahaaa but if anything were to come out this year it would be the songxiao most likely !

Do you accept prompts?: not after what happened last time !!!! ;o; until i’m done with school altogether, i really need writing to remain something For Me

Upcoming story you’re the most excited to write?: i wanna finish my jaslief SOOOO bad oh my god . i put in so much self-indulgence in there and used what i learned from where the light goes to make it REALLY good n thematic. like don’t get me wrong i am also so excited for my songxiao but i wrote it with some uhhhhh Influence from things i was going through irl and it feels weighty now?? idk i’ll work it out eventually,, i’ve also had oubing fic brewing in my head for literally a year and i REALLY wanna write some pynch in the barns/cabeswater content. let me write about dreamthings and nATURE

Upcoming story you’re most excited about?: bold of u to assume i read multichapters anymore HAHAHA i rotate through the same library of 100 one-shots i have bookmarked now......but back when i did read multichaps i was REALLY into the work of iruutciv + orchids_and_fictional_cities team from yoi, they were absolute LEGENDS and their fic and miles to go before i sleep changed me as a person lmao (i also did read part of their ongoing but monsters are always hungry, darling and i’m actually still in their discord for it but it is SO so intricately crafted and i fell out of the loop and didn’t rly get back in) . currently i follow megafaunatic aka etymologyplayground’s work the most closely for my mxtx fix (my fav from them currently is probably you, asleep and dreaming)

tagging: @lenawin4 and uhhhhhhh anyone else who feels like doing this?? for my life i cannot recall any other writers off the top of my head rn o)-(

[bitchiha]

I seen your head canons for Sasukes music taste and Im just curious as to what Lana songs you like the most?? like a top 5 or something

HAHHAHAHA YESSSS BITCHH IM GLAD YOU BROUGHT THIS UP BC IVE BEEN DYING TO TALK ABOUT IT FOR A HOT MINUTE NOW

I’m gonna describe my fucking emotions and thoughts when I listen to these songs and I’m gonna ramble my ass off bc you got me hyped asf

1) Say Yes To Heaven - unreleased

It’s so fucking good like shit, it fucks me uupppp everytime she says I’ve got my eye on you like.. uh sis.. I feel like a little angel when I listen to it. Honestly the whole song reminds me of running around Paris or London or something and just being infatuated w someone.. like this song is the embodiment of summer in a foreign place. It reminds me of all those really random crushes you get on people you see once in your life when you walk past them on the street or in a grocery store or something and then you think about them for a good month after that. Also, uhh it reminds me of Sasuke for some reason 😌✨ like some little forbidden love w Sasuke. It also makes me feel like a fairy lol

2) 1949 - unreleased

Ok so when I was little younger — like from when I was 8-15 ish-years old my family would always go to America for the summer. Like we would always do some kind of roadtrip and this song takes me back to all the drives and little towns we passed through. I was very pissy about my own identity in this phase of my life and always wanted to be American LMFAOOO, probably because I listened to her all the time and she always ends up singing about something in America or very American. It’s such a good summer roadtrip song though, (considering she does talk about a roadtrip across the USA in it.) Just brings back little moments in like Cape Cod or Tennessee. Omgggg It gives me such strong Tennessee vibes.

3) Meet Me In The Pale Moonlight - unreleased

K so I know a lot of my favs are unreleased, but they’re so fucking good. Like this song reminds me of train rides home on the subway late on a Friday night. Like coming back home from a downtown trip. Just city girl thingz amirite ✨ no but yeah, I know it’s a song about a boy and you know.. like she’s thirsting for that man.. but uhm, it just gives me good memories with my friends fucking around downtown. But that one part where she’s like hello-o-o-o you are looking so fine, so fine fantasy about yous like a gold mine, gold mine... omg it makes me feel some type of way.. you have to listen to the song to feel it. So listen to it now!! Don’t be shy <3 it also reminds me of London.

4) West Coast - Ultraviolence

So.. this song just makes me feel like a bad bitch.. but a bad bitch who’s in love w a bad bitch *insert sparkles* I can see my baby swinging, his parliaments on fire and his hands are up, on the balcony and I’m singing, oh baby oh baby I’m in love. It’s so hot. This song literally fucking turns me on. Also it reminds me of this crush when I got my first part time job. He was such a baddie <3 shout out to him. Does it also remind me of Sasuke? YOU BET YOUR CUTE ASS IT DOES

5) Cinnamon Girl - NFR

CINNAMON IN MY TEETH 😭😭😭😭✨✨ BITCH UGH that song feeds me. If I’m ever hungry I’ll listen to that song. Also it’s so sad, like what I get when I listen to it is that the person she’s singing about is toxic and she has so much confusion and strong emotions for him?? I’m pretty sure that’s what it is about and it’s so good and like fragile?? Idk I swear I’m good at analysis and shit but I’m writing this at like 1 am and I’m not about to go full essay mode. This song also makes me feel like a fairy.. but a hurt fairy.. bye lol

[boybandsim]

leafeana replied to your post: 

WAIT i was just scrolling through your blog cause im hungry for content and saw this again and realized you asked what version i was playing? which i dont remember answering whoops

im playing it on pc! which is great bc then i get to mess around with mods (like the one that gives cindy some real clothing lol) but its also got its downsides since my computer is definitely not a gaming computer, which means graphics take a serious hit and lagging isnt uncommon

im...not sure if its royal edition?? I think windows edition has all the features of royal edition, although im not completely sure. I think luna has a cutscene in Insomnia thats only in royal edition, so once im there ill be able to tell. technically im in Insomnia now but ive time traveled back and it might be a while before i push on to the finale. after dealing with Altissia --> the start of Insomnia linearly i wanted some time to chill with the bros and pretend

everything is fine for a while. it has been a WILD ride for sure and yeah I haven't even started up any of the dlc yet! theres so much content!! ive been practicing playing as the other bros during medium-hard combat which has kept it feeling really fresh too. also its hilarious just blasting bad guys with a bazooka while the other people are in there swinging around swords and knives. and i haven't done any of the crossover quests yet, which seem big and exciting!

ill be forever sad that i missed the assassins festival but theres definitely plenty to do that I'm excited for. and im getting really into the fishing!! charmed is definitely the right word like..its not perfect at all but this game is so genuinely endearing with its characters personalites and development and its themes and music as well and it really does some things SO well.

god okay this is a lot of words. sorry for rambling and for the late reply! no one i know plays this game or has much interest in it so youre getting all my bottled up enthusiasm

PLEASE DO NOT EVER APOLOGISE FOR RAMBLING SEND ME AS MUCH AS I LOVE WORDS AND THOUGHTS AND TALKING ABOUT FFXV DUDE <3333 also literally no worries about late replies or replying at all im forever shit at them myself i get it bro nw nw nw

hell yeah pc is royal edition with a bunch of other shit and the dlcs (bar ardyn) incorporated, dont worry, also i would die for that one cindy in a decent outfit mod i know the exact one youre on about LOL (also i can recommend you some other mods if u like!!)

if i can share some knowledge with you right quick cuz i had the same problem and wouldve died to have someone tell me i went from barely 20fps on a good day to being able to run multiple programs with ffxv in the background; specialk is a very quick install and majorly helped with multithreading; otherwise for the in game options are using low resolution texture pack (assets option); shadows look near visually identical on the lowest option compared to the highest; all nvidia effects can be turned off with no significant graphic change; turning off anti aliasing entirely genuinely makes the game look better for me; i can post my full settings if itll help you and ive also read through a few tutorials for modding around lag so i can try and help you with that, i do get pretty major lag spikes though and frequently find it near impossible to stream/record, but i manage to nail that 60fps on average if im solely running ffxv with a few cut corners like those

also dont blame you with altissia, ngl i boiled through the story rollercoaster right quick after exploring most of the open world before even touching altissia and ended up ignoring all postgame content for starting a new save immediately and replaying just to get that hangout time in the open world that wasnt just go-back-in-time-through-magic-dog. but i feel you so hard dude i just want more of them chilling. literally i have 300 hours in this game already and i know half of those have been using the car listening to tunes LMFAO

yeah the crossover quests are funnn the one with terra wars is sweet and the ffxiv one is SO funny its literally hysterical i was roaring with laughter a couple times!!! and good on you practising i didnt touch any of the extended combat until my third save and yeah honestly if you want to do the postgame menaces those skillsll come in useful, its funny because the maingame bosses arent that hard but the postgame is mental. but yeah i love blowing shit up with proms bazooka it fucking rules nerds can keep their swords

ALSO SAME... i wanna play the promptis date so bad!! i wanna play episode duscae so bad!!! wanna play the platinum demo with baby noctis so bad!! knowing theyll never be ported kills meeeeee. sad & upset but as you say theres so much to do and the dlc honestly offer so much im still finding shit i havent done and ive spent a year playing already

honestly so much of this game for me is literally just booting it to go hang with the guys its really relaxing lmfaooo... hiking around with these goofy dudes. sometimes i just wanna chill with the anime boys. YEAH literally its sweet and charming and then fucking heartbreaking and even though the writing is hammy as hell im honestly so willing to forgive it. not only for the clear amount of care and love that went into specifically building the guys relationship (which anyone knows is the best and most realised part of the game) but the details and amount of lore you can uncover if you take a step and interpret a little. maybe thats too generous a statement for what was an executive nightmare and critically underdeveloped but i grew up on ffxiii and knowing the versus 13 lore and that ffxv was part of that extended canon im satisfied with it being another side to that story and running with that. i think supplemented with its additional content years after release ffxv isnt a complete experience but enough of one to leave an impact or at least it did majorly for me! ive been obsessed.

OMG sorry im nerding too its all good lol just genuinely i love this game and its hard to find people talking about it these days but i really had such a good time and still am continuing to and i love it fuck it ball hard

real shit though it has the best fishing minigame of all time hands down nothing has come close fuck the haters

[pigeonfancier]

f💌 when u get this u have to answer with 5 things u like about yourself, publicly. then, send this ask to 10 of ur fav followers (non-negotiable, positivity is cool) 💌

Tagged by @8tea - tumblr is being a bit of a shit, and won’t let me @, but oh well, we all know what a well-functioning website this is.

Tagginggg @rebatrolls, @skegulium, @cumaeansibyl, @byronicproclivities, @zigzaguar, @toushindai, and - I am on the phone and getting mercilessly ragged for hiccuping, so I cannot think of more people right now, but you know, fucking gank it and @ me, I will be delighted to see your positivity!

1. I’m very creative, and I’m good at what I can do! If I see it, I can make it, and if I make it, it generally will look alright on the first two tries. I’m good at crafts, writing, and skilled labour in general, and I’m very cheerily confident in that at this point in my life that if it’s hands-on, I can do it relatively well, if not always with relative ease.

2. I am pretty confident! If I’m up past 11PM, if I’m hungry or I’m sick, I’ll spiral into a tragic ball of sadness and unease, but even then, I know it’s just.. my body reacting to external stresses, and my brain responding to that in a way it knows will get me eating / sleeping / socialising in order to fix it. I love myself a lot, I know myself very well, and I know that I have traits that others value and appreciate to a great deal - and that what matters, ultimately, is that I’m enjoying my life. You’ve only got one!

I decided pretty early on that I wasn’t going to spend it saddled to someone I didn’t like (myself), and that’s probably.. the thing I like most about myself, lmfao, the fact I love me.

3. I’m good with people! I used to play chameleon a lot more in my early twenties, when I had the energy for it, but - I am capable of fitting into almost any social sphere, because I can look at people, know what they want for me, and then figure out a way to work with that, while staying within the bounds of what I will enjoy and like, and I also know.. how to do it with fairly limited expenditures of energy, lmfaooo.

Is it generally worth it, for me? No. Do I still really like the fact I know how to do it? Yes.

4. I am a ~*sheeple*~, and by that, I mean.. I enjoy the fact that I typically throw all-in with people that I like! People are investments, relationships are investments, and you have to put in what you want to get out of them. I am not the most abjectly outgoing person at this stage in my life - I have my peer groups, and I am largely disinclined towards seeking out individuals to add to them - but I just like the fact.. I cultivate and invest heavily into my relationships and friends as a whole, because it feels very satisfying and communal and like there is a mutually beneficial reward for both of us.

I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately, and trying to decide if I like this in myself, or if I need to change it, but nah. I really like the fact my relationships tend to be about being equally yoked, with equal rewards, in all actuality, and it just feels satisfyingly right.

5. I like that I’ll talk about myself for hours on end xoxoxoxo

Less jokingly: I like the fact I throw myself hard into everything, on average, if I care about it. I so frequently say “I’m going to do the thing”, and then it just spirals into something amazing, glorious and big, because I give it my all, and that’s what that produces, and I absolutely adore that in myself, even if it occasionally gets frustrating in terms of - oh no! So much to do, and so little time!

[2edge4u]

I can't sleep so here

1. Who was the last person you held hands with? My gf

2. Are you outgoing or shy? Very shy unless I'm comfortable around them

3. Who are you looking forward to seeing? My gf on Tuesday

4. Are you easy to get along with? I would like to think so

5. If you were drunk would the person you like take care of you? Mallory

6. What kind of people are you attracted to? Mmmnm girls typically kind and sweet ones

7. Do you think you’ll be in a relationship two months from now? Most def

8. Who from the opposite gender is on your mind? Lmao no

9. Does talking about sex make you uncomfortable? Depends on who I'm talking to

10. Who was the last person you had a deep conversation with? My gf Mallory

11. What does the most recent text that you sent say? Good night babe 😙

12. What are your 5 favorite songs right now? If I can't have you, poetry by dead men, dura remix, bilingue, please me

13. Do you like it when people play with your hair? God yes and my gf does it all the damn time

14. Do you believe in luck and miracles? Idk it would be nice but sometimes it just kinda feels like were all just going through the motions and stuff like that just eases the pain and hopelessness

15. What good thing happened this summer? I lost a shit ton of weight

16. Would you kiss the last person you kissed again? A million times

17. Do you think there is life on other planets? It would be naive to believe that there isn't the universe is fucking huge

18. Do you still talk to your first crush? Lmfaooo no

19. Do you like bubble baths? Yeah but I gotta shower first. The idea of sitting in body soup makes me queasy.

20. Do you like your neighbors? Fuck no they're horrible people but my rent is cheap 🤷‍♀️

21. What are you bad habits? Over thinking and second guessing are at the top of the list

22. Where would you like to travel? Sooooo many places Florida is the worst get me out

23. Do you have trust issues? Yeah I guess so but I will trust those who treat me right

24. Favorite part of your daily routine? Going the fuck to sleep

25. What part of your body are you most uncomfortable with? My thighs

26. What do you do when you wake up? Say good morning to Mallory then go pee

27. Do you wish your skin was lighter or darker? This is a kinda fucked up question but I mean I guess I don't like being this pale but I also like being inside so

28. Who are you most comfortable around? My gf and my mom

29. Have any of your ex’s told you they regret breaking up? Yes and I blocked that bitch 🤷‍♀️

30. Do you ever want to get married? Yep

31. If your hair long enough for a pony tail? Lmao no I'm too butch to have long hair anymore but I'm still pretty soft

32. Which celebrities would you have a threesome with? I tried a threesome once in college and it was not a good time so no thanks. One girl at a time for me.

33. Spell your name with your chin. U8u7fw nailed it

34. Do you play sports? What sports? I used to play basketball but I'm too lazy so

35. Would you rather live without TV or music? Fuck off that's impossible I'm a millennial

36. Have you ever liked someone and never told them? Oh definitely

37. What do you say during awkward silences? Depends on who it is

38. Describe your dream girl/guy? I'm lucky because I'm already dating her 😍 long hair, blue eyes, working her dream job and super passionate about it, the epitome of sweet and kind, very good kisser, great listener, my little spoon, so fucking smart, knows the difference between your and you're, holds me when I need it, fixes my headaches, and she loves me back.

39. What are your favorite stores to shop in? Publix and target

40. What do you want to do after high school? Bitch I graduated in 2005 I've already changed careers once and I'm about to do it again

41. Do you believe everyone deserves a second chance? Yeah unless they diddle kids or hurt women

42. If your being extremely quiet what does it mean? I'm angy or sad

43. Do you smile at strangers? You know that white person passing you in the hallway smile

44. Trip to outer space or bottom of the ocean? Fuck the ocean honestly so many things can bite or sting me

45. What makes you get out of bed in the morning? Making money and seeing my gf

46. What are you paranoid about? Hahahaha so much

47. Have you ever been high? Yeah long time ago

48. Have you ever been drunk? Mhm

49. Have you done anything recently that you hope nobody finds out about? Not really

50. What was the colour of the last hoodie you wore? I literally only wear black and grey everything

51. Ever wished you were someone else? Oh definitely

52. One thing you wish you could change about yourself? Smaller boobs

53. Favourite makeup brand? Lmao I haven't worn makeup since college

54. Favourite store? Bitch I already answered this

55. Favourite blog? Hmmmm I can't choose y'all bitches are funny

56. Favourite colour? Grey

57. Favourite food? Hmmm salad and mashed potatoes. I also love Mexican food.

58. Last thing you ate? Caprese salad

59. First thing you ate this morning? Pussy, next question

60. Ever won a competition? For what? Lmao a lot of music competitions and also water skiing

61. Been suspended/expelled? For what? Lmao no I'm too scared to get in trouble

62. Been arrested? For what? I've never even been pulled over so no

63. Ever been in love? Yep

64. Tell us the story of your first kiss? It was behind the big tire on the playground so no one would see. Lasted .5 seconds and we never talked again.

65. Are you hungry right now? Nah

66. Do you like your tumblr friends more than your real friends? Yeah

67. Facebook or Twitter? Neither

68. Twitter or Tumblr? Tumblr

69. Are you watching tv right now? Always

70. Names of your bestfriends? Mallory, Chris and Kjersten

71. Craving something? What? Reeses with the pieces inside that shit slaps

72. What colour are your towels? Grey

72. How many pillows do you sleep with? One for my head and one for in between my legs

73. Do you sleep with stuffed animals? Nope

74. How many stuffed animals do you think you have? None

75. Favourite animal? Puppies and kitties

76. What colour is your underwear? Grey and blue

77. Chocolate or Vanilla? Chocolate

78. Favourite ice cream flavour? Chocolate covered cherry

79. What colour shirt are you wearing? I'm not wearing a shirt

80. What colour pants? No pants either just boxers and a sports bra

81. Favourite tv show? Fuck you I can't choose

82. Favourite movie? Texas chainsaw

83. Mean Girls or Mean Girls 2? Why would you even ask me this the original obviously

84. Mean Girls or 21 Jump Street? Mean girls

85. Favourite character from Mean Girls? Gretchen wieners

86. Favourite character from Finding Nemo? Dory

87. First person you talked to today? Mallory

88. Last person you talked to today? Mallory

89. Name a person you hate? My boss and the majority of my colleagues

90. Name a person you love? My gf

91. Is there anyone you want to punch in the face right now? Nah I don't really like punching ppl

92. In a fight with someone? No

93. How many sweatpants do you have? I'm a lesbian so a lot

94. How many sweaters/hoodies do you have? Idk like 10ish?

95. Last movie you watched? Rocky horror

96. Favourite actress? So many

97. Favourite actor? Why tf do some people still separate this by gender

98. Do you tan a lot? Lmao no

105. Ever been to a bonfire party? Yeah I live in the south

99. Have any pets? Yep a dog and 2 cats

100. How are you feeling? Slept literally all day so I can't sleep but my headache is finally gone 🙌

101. Do you type fast? Yeah

102. Do you regret anything from your past? Mhm

103. Can you spell well? I would like to think so

104. Do you miss anyone from your past? My grandparents

[kakujis]

i had a dream that i was dating whitney and we had gone out with our(his) friends. i stopped into a boba/bakery shop earlier that day and met someone very kind (i legit cnnot remember if it was sydney or someone else but for self indulgence reasons im gonna go with sydney)

he wrote my name on the drinks with a heart and i even asked him to write whitney’s name for me with a heart too (i am his gf :/) and he hesitated so i was like “oh i can do it for u!” and tried to grab the pen and then we brushed fingers and FRIENDS I AM DYING??? butterflies butterflies

continuing on. he writes it for me and i bring it to whitney, who mentions how he was about to call me for takin so long. before we leave though, i feel compelled to walk back into the shop and i can hear whitney’s friends saying “wtf”

i go back in and sydney is gone into the back!!! so i feel a bit disappointed and pretend to look at a few pastries before i notice whitney glaring at me outside, so i leave, but not before i notice sydneys coworkers trying to get him to come back out T^T…

anyways, whitney has a bruising grip on my waist and i’m wearing a miniskirt with a slit LMFAO, but it’s slightly cold so whitney was kind enough to let me wear a turtleneck sweater … anyways, it’s around 5:30am at this point and they were hungry. they start trying to open the restaurants doors to my horror at the workers inside look confused. (they open at 6).

i choose to sit down away from everyone and think about sydney. whitney comes over and says some obscene shit to me which makes me embarrassed since there’s people nearby (who tf is out at 5:30 am in WINTER?????) and i decide to walk off.

whitney doesn’t follow at first so i walk leisurely, i’m definitely going back to the bakery!!! i dont wven like whitney!! syndey PLZ DATE ME!!!

but i hear footsteps behind me and its whit following me now, smiling. i speed up and he runs up to catch me. asking me where i was going and why i didnt tell him.

i scream and break free, running now like literal full sprint. people are confused but they arent gonna do anything lmfaooo. so i run and almost make it to the bakery before whit grabs me and says something along the lines of:

“i fucking knew it, u have a crush on that fucker inside”

and then proceeds to tell me he knew because when i brought him the drink, my brow was furrowed LMFAO???

anyways then i woke up. does whitney put me in my place? yea probs. if u made it this far thanks for reading LMFAO.